Tony, aka VAiru

I just really liked the phrasing here. I knew exactly what this meant (as did Aron) but it's just unusual enough to establish the Va Wreth as alien but with the prerequisite commonalities for a good dialogue. Well done, Mandy!

Harry Ross is just the creepiest. Well done on making me squirm with every line, Emma!

Oh lord, as soon as I saw that sim and I was like OH NO HE'S BAAAAAACK

Greetings and salutations, all! I'm pleased to say that Jess, Rich, and I have thought through things carefully, and we're pleased to announce that the winner of the Design Astrofori I Contest is Alora DeVeau, whose organic design we found especially captivating. Maxwell Traenor is our runner-up, with his excellent submission that showcased his graphics skills. We have banners for both winner and runner-up, which represent the colors of the four major powers aboard the station (UFOP, Romulan Empire, Breen Confederacy, and Kubarey Confederation). Of course, as promised in the contest description, Amanda's design will now become Astrofori One. We'd like to use, with the artist's permission, Lt. Traenor's image as well, in an as-yet-undetermined way that nevertheless will be involved with Astrofori I and its mission. Thanks to both of you, and many congratulations!

Tim Russ was definitely a close second, but it has to go to Nimoy. I do wish we could've seen more of Kirstie Alley, though, especially her take on the Vulcan/Romulan mix.

I do like J-Frakes's style a lot, but in the end it's Nicholas Meyer's directorly belief that starships should be shot like their oceangoing counterparts (or like submarines -- huzzah Mutara Nebula!) that wins me over.

((Lt DeVeau’s Quarters, USS Garuda))::There was a problem with being officially off duty - it meant it was difficult to work out of the eyes of those who had told her to take some time off. While Alora wasn't generally the sort to leave things undone, she also wasn't a workaholic either. Usually she knew how to balance work and pleasure and still participated in activities that would keep her busy. Alora couldn't shake the guilt, especially in light of her recent findings. Upon discovering the Chief of Science working against orders, she'd been ordered, again, back to her quarters, or the holodeck, or somewhere, for rest and away from the work that waited for her. She had spent some time in the holodeck, banging against the piano in fits of frustration with pieces that sounded similar to Stravinky's 'Rite of Spring', though far more cannibalistic in nature. Eventually she'd managed to snap a string on the holographic piano, and while that could have been taken care of easily, she retreated back to her room. An attempt to contact friends had revealed that the two she leaned most heavily on, Raissa and Aron, were not available, so she flopped on the couch and attempted to read a book.::::Her eyes absorbed every word, every syllable, but her mind couldn't rest. Her sleep had been interrupted with countless nightmares, scenes of the vines that the Kindred had controlled wrapping themselves around their unsuspecting prey. Despite the more favourable outcome, the nightmares never ended happily. Every time, she watched as friends and colleagues were crushed and strangled one by one until she was the only one left, her body still captive, the voice of the Mother chuckling low in triumph. Sometimes, it wasn't the vines that were used but her bare hands, fingers pressing into the flesh. Sometimes, the vines expanded into an organism so vast that despite the lack of air in space, they burst from the ship to swallow it whole before continuing to fly through toward some other suspecting victim. The latter had more of a fantastical quality to it and was easier to handle, but the two former were far too realistic in the wake of what had really happened, and resulted in her waking only to huddle in her bed, sniffling.::::Even while awake, images popped into her mind, unbidden, and as she attempted to find some solace in the fantasy of a good book, her brain refused to allow her rest. Fortunately, the chime of the door tugged her out of any downward spiral and she rose even as she called the computer to allow the visitor entry.::::The doors slid back to reveal a tall, slender form, momentarily silhouetted against the brighter corridor. Stepping inside into the dimmer lighting allowed details to resolve; the familiar angular features, grey eyes and dark hair, the flowing Vulcan robes and, over his shoulder, a familiar bulky shape; his harp case.::::As he stepped inside the doors hissed shut behind him. One long-fingered hand rose in the ta'al, the traditional Vulcan salute.::Saveron: Sochya, Alora.::He spoke quietly. It had been nearly a Terran year since they had last been face to face, and although he and his friend kept in contact during his year teaching at the Starfleet Academy on Vulcan and the Vulcan Academy of Science, even he in his Vulcan logic would admit that such communication was lacking.::::He spoke quietly, for Aron had indicated that the past weeks had not been kind to Alora. That if ever there was a time when she needed a friend, it was now.::::At the sight of said visitor, Alora froze. The form that stood before her was one that she had wished, time and time again, would return - especially after her most recent ordeal. The face, stoic and poised had come to mind on many an occasion along with the desire to have hiscomforting presence in person rather than restricted to the screen as it had been since his departure. For a moment, she wondered if, perhaps, wishful thinking had thrust her mind into creating some sort of mirage, though she managed to croak out a soft,::DeVeau: Saveron?Saveron: Affirmative.::He had learned that some species did not always believe the evidence of their own senses, but then most did not have the level of control that his own people did. The tone of Alora's voice suggested more than the expected level of surprise however, there was he thought a note of disbelief.::DeVeau: You're...here.Saveron: That is correct.::And still she did not seem to quite believe him. A Terran might have offered her a hand to grasp in evidence, but no Vulcan made that gesture lightly, with all that it entailed.::Saveron: My shuttle docked this morning. ::He paused, searching for appropriate words for alien sensibilities.:: I trust that I am not interrupting you?::Never before had Alora had to exert so much control. Her first instinct was to run and throw her arms about the neck of the tall man, draw him into a crushing hug. She even went so far as to quickly close the distance between the two of them, but stopped just before him, hands twitching as she realised such contact was not Vulcan and would not be comfortable for him. Despite that, the evidence that she was quite happy to see him was soon evident in the way her mouth spread into a wide smile that, for the first time in days, reflected in her eyes.::::Her expression indicated that she did not find his arrival disagreeable.::DeVeau: You’re back…Saveron: That is the case. ::He agreed. She seemed to have some slight difficulty with the concept.::DeVeau: I didn’t know you were coming back...you didn’t tell me.::In fact, her last correspondence had gone unanswered where Saveron was usually prompt. She had thought that he’d simply been overly busy and would reply as soon as he possibly could. She had not expected to see him at her door.::Saveron: The notification of transfer required immediate action; I did not have time to write initially. ::He admitted.:: On further consideration I thought that you might find the ‘surprise’ agreeable; I understand that Terrans often do.::Unlike his own people who abhorred disorganisation and the unexpected.::Saveron: You… are not displeased?::He would never accuse a member of his own species of emotion, but Alora always seemed quite ready to own her own feelings.::DeVeau: On the contrary ::she admitted::, I’m extremely, extremely pleased. You have no idea how much I wished you were here...especially after…::She trailed off, her smile wiped clean from her face.::::The tall Vulcan cocked his head slightly to one side, grey eyes scanning her youthful features, now suddenly devoid of the previous, pleasant expression.::Saveron: I am here now. ::He said gently.:: Will you tell me what happened?::He knew nothing of recent events save what he had overheard from quiet conversations. Gesturing towards the couch in silent suggestion, he set his harp case gently onto the floor.::::As she opened her mouth, Alora inhaled simply to take a breath with which to speak. Unfortunately, what exited wasn’t a word but a sob. Once it had escaped, it was quickly followed by another. Then another. Suddenly, Alora wasn’t able to formulate a single word but rather covered her face with her hands, body trembling with every sob without even a step toward the couch. How many times had she done that the last few days? Far too many, and she had thought it was out of her system, but with the arrival of a dear friend, she suddenly found herself breaking down far too easily.:: ::An emotional response. Aron had not been incorrect in his summation of Alora’s state. It was disagreeable to witness, not for the emotionality which was a common feature amongst aliens, but for what it implied about his friend’s situation.::::There was a rustle of fabric as Saveron moved quietly past her, a few faint beeps from the replicator, and a moment later a warm mug was pushed into her hands, the scents of milk and chocolate rising in the steam. He remembered that she favoured the drink. There was the faintest, momentary touch on her arm::Saveron: Sit with me.::He spoke gently, moving over to perch on the couch with that familiar, slightly stiff position of one accustomed to sitting on the floor. The scent of the chocolate mingled with the smells of exotic yet familiar herbs and spices that rose from Saveron’s own mug; his usual Theris-masu. They were familiar smells, associated with conversations and music lessons past.:: ::The warmth in her hands cut through the chill that memories brought and downgraded her sobbing to sniffles with an occasional gulp. The mixture of herbs and candied warmth were soothing in their own right. As Saveron settled on the couch, Alora allowed herself a moment more to gather some composure before she joined him, though she didn’t take a sip of the drink he’d offered just yet.:: DeVeau: I’m sorry. ::And how many times had she said that over the last few days as well? Obviously, this was not exactly what Saveron had expected and certainly not how Alora might have imagined their reunion to go.:: Saveron: You have nothing for which to apologise. ::He paused.:: It is disagreeable to see you in distress. ::How else could he put it? The urge to reach out, to have conveyed without words the nature of the problem, as a Vulcan might, was instinctive, but Alora was no Vulcan, and such gestures were used only between those who were close, or in great necessity. He would not presume. Rather he waited patiently.:: DeVeau: It was… ::It was what? Both Raissa and Aron had asked, but words failed when she tried to describe what it was like. The best she could come up with was…:: DeVeau: Horrendous. ::The word brought that thin-lipped look to Saveron’s face, the closest he ever came to looking unhappy. Aron had hinted that something dreadful had happened, and particularly to Alora.:: Saveron: Will you tell me what happened? ::He asked quietly. DeVeau: I’ll try. ::It took several starts and stops, and after the second collapse into sobs, Alora had to put the mug down on the table lest she spill it. Once she wrestled and gained control again, she continued, but at least two more episodes occurred before she was finally able to finish the story. When it was over, she could no longer cry, partially because she’d already shed so many tears, and partially because of how much detail she’d gone into. For some reason, she was able to admit everything to Saveron, to give him even the smaller details that she’d left out with others. She felt safe with him.:: ::The only movement had been a quiet sip of tea as Alora spoke, she had the Vulcan’s undivided attention. He still wore that thin-lipped expression, and as she finished his gaze turned introspective for a moment, thinking carefully, before grey eyes met green.:: Saveron: I do not know what a culturally appropriate response would be. ::He admitted with the same candour.:: The describe such an experience in my own people’s terms seems… insufficient. ::’Disagreeable’, whilst useful for Vulcan responses to experiences, did not encompass the spectrum of reaction through which aliens endured; certainly it did not cover Alora’s reaction.:: Saveron: I appreciate your candour, ::he added at last,:: your trust in me. I would find it preferable if I could assist in some way. ::Yet he was no Counsellor. The extreme nature of Vulcan mental discipline closed that door to him.:: I appreciate that to experience such, to feel such actions as your own and have no volition to prevent such is traumatic. ::For only a fool would ever think that Alora herself would undertake such actions. He would find it preferable if Alora did not seem to attract such trauma. He recalled all too well the aftermath of her and Commander Rahman’s abduction by the Orionese brigand. He recalled too his own experience of such.:: ::Saveron had been the first person she trusted since leaving the Academy to accept her first posting. Distance hadn’t changed that, and if anything, his presence merely solidified that fact. As one hand rubbed at her eyes, she stared down at the mug of chocolate which, by that point, was probably just barely warm.:: DeVeau: I’m glad you’re back. ::She admitted before adding.:: I missed you. I’m glad you’re here and we can talk again. ::For although he couldn’t express himself in a Terran manner, she somehow felt so at ease with him. He just accepted her outburst, her feelings - he just accepted her and had from the beginning.:: Saveron: I also find it preferable that we may speak face to face once more. ::He replied evenly.:: ::It was agreeable to hear more positive tones from Alora, though he could not help but think of what she had been through, and how such things could leave very deep scars. That he understood far too well.:: Saveron: I… understand, perhaps more than most, that which you experienced. I myself have experienced something similar. DeVeau: You did? ::Alora hadn’t realised that. Had Saveron mentioned it and she’d forgotten? Normally she had a fairly good memory - maybe not as good as Saveron’s, but still.:: DeVeau: Do you mind if I ask what happened? Saveron: I would not have spoken of it if I objected. ::Indeed he had anticipated the question.:: The USS Thunder- the ship attached to the Duronis II Embassy - was nearly destroyed when a Pah Wraith resident in an ancient Bajoran possessed a member of the crew and took control of the ship. Another crewmember became possessed by a Prophet, and the two endeavoured to undertake the Reckonning aboard that ship. Several members of the Thunder’smarine contingent were killed by the Pah Wraith, and a member of the senior staff was mentally subjugated in order to attain the appropriate accesses. ::Of course, not every species had the ability to mentally subjugate another.:: ::Even though he spoke of it as if he were merely recounting the details of a report, Alora knew he was one of those crewmembers.:: DeVeau: And you were taken by the….? Saveron: I was possessed by the Pah Wraith. ::He said simply, knowing he did not need to describe the swath of destruction he had cut through the ship, and her crew.:: ::It had happened to him, almost the exact same thing. Different ship, different beings, but the results had been the same - their bodies and minds had been used to hurt and even kill others. Tears stung Alora’s eyes once more and colour drained from her face. Quickly, she looked away to take hold of herself and struggled to find something to say. She wound up asking a silly question, but at least it would get them off the topic.:: DeVeau: What made you decide to come back? ::He accepted the change of topic. It had been his intention to demonstrate a measure of survivability, not to bring forth again the pain that showed on Alora’s face.:: Saveron: It was not my decision to make, nor was my departure. I was transferred back by Starfleet. ::Just as he had been transferred out. Like all of them he moved at the whims of their superiors.:: ::Alora nodded slowly. Regardless, she was glad for the Vulcan’s return and hoped that Starfleet would leave him there permanently, even if it was a selfish desire. :: Saveron: It is agreeable to be aboard the Garudaagain. I shall be working with your department. ::That made Alora pause. Her department? Had something happened?:: DeVeau: Not as a doctor? I thought you preferred that posting... Saveron: Affirmative; I am here as a Xenobiology Specialist, to assist in the investigation of recently encountered species. The Garudahas sufficient medical personal, though I will of course be available to the medical department should additional staff be required. ::But that wasn’t why he’d been transferred back.:: ::Well that made sense, considering his specialty. Still, Alora thought he made a fine doctor, but if that’s what it took to get him on the Garuda, she wouldn’t argue. Her eyes drifted down to the item that he’d brought with him, finally noticing it in the aftermath of her breakdown.:: DeVeau: You brought your harp. Saveron: I considered that you might find it agreeable to continue our lessons. DeVeau: Would you be willing to play for me? ::One of the many things she had missed was their time spent learning together, especially with music.:: Saveron: Affirmative. ::Sometimes music had a soothing quality that words did not. It was a twin case, and Saveron snapped one side open with practiced ease, extracting an old harp, it’s intricate designs polished with use, made of rare woods from the T’ralorian Preserve, which his people had licence to harvest sustainably. With deft movements he tuned it before setting long fingers to the strings and drawing forth a gentle, soothing melody, pleasant tones and easy on the ears.:: ::Alora’s eyes closed and she sighed softly before curling up on the half of the couch she’d claimed for her own. Although it looked as if he’d brought the other, for the moment she was content to simply let him play and allow herself to get lost in the music. The tones of the Vulcan harp curled about her, reminding her of the not so distant past and the pleasant moments spent together. Notes that seemed filled with far too much emotion to truly be Vulcan danced lightly about her, calling her to forget her troubles for the moment. Each note wrapped it’s delicate tendrils about her, the music drew her into its embrace and rocked her gently upon its rolling waves. How long he’d played, she wasn’t sure, but when the peace finally ended and the wisps of the melody release her and faded, she shifted to settle her gaze back upon the Vulcan.:: DeVeau: I’ve missed this too. Saveron: Would you find it agreeable to resume our lessons? DeVeau: I would love to. I’ve been practising in the holodeck...but it’s not the same. ::Holograms could be programmed to act like real people, but they were still just computer generated images. They didn’t possess actual life, usually, and thus lacked a depth that she missed with real people. Even her holographic sensei couldn’t compared to the real one back in Japan - though she agreed it was better than nothing at all.:: Saveron: I would be honoured to continue teaching. ::Dark brows raised slightly as he offered the old and well-cared for instrument to Alora.:: ::Pushing herself upright, Alora accepted the instrument, her smile returning, though pale in comparison to its usual brilliance, and addressed it directly..:: DeVeau: I’ve missed you too. ::Removing the second harp from the case - this one a modern electronic instrument, all gleaming metal and indicator lights - Saveron regarded Alora for a moment. Sometimes Terrans had an odd way of expressing things.:: *************** Lt. Cmdr Saveron Xenobiology Specialist USS Garuda & Lt. Alora DeVeau Chief of Science USS Garuda

((Holodeck 4)) ((Standard Phaser Training Simulation)) ::Raissa frowned at the different types of phasers laid out on the counter in front of her along with the species neutral targets arrayed at varying distances. She was a counselor, not a security officer.:: Moonsong: Why are we here again? :: Evan stood nearby, arms clasped behind his back as he regarded Raissa. :: Delano: One of my responsibilities as the chief of security is to ensure all senior officers maintain proficiency with standard armaments. According to the log, you’re overdue. Moonsong: Running away screaming isn't an option? :: The security raised an eyebrow, a lopsided smile curling his lip. :: Delano: I’m afraid that wouldn't solve anything, Counselor. Don’t worry, I’ll keep the difficulty settings fairly low. ::She frowned fiercely at him, but there was no real weight behind it.:: Moonsong: Do you have a ‘shouldn't-be-allowed-to-touch-weapons’ setting? Delano: That’s what the holodeck safeties are for. :: Evan raised an eyebrow when he realized Raissa wasn't entirely joking. :: Delano: Isn’t basic weapons training required at the Academy? Moonsong: Well…. yeah…. technically…. Delano: So… you didn't do well? :: Evan was trying to be diplomatic. He knew most officers disliked these annual requirements. His approach had been to try to make it more like a game. Sure, target practice wasn’t exactly Velocity, but it could be fun with the right attitude. :: ::Raissa sighed and looked decidedly guilty:: Moonsong: I shot my instructor…. I mean… not on purpose, but he moved as I firing… I managed to beg my way through an admin waiver. I can’t seem to fire a phaser with my eyes open. :: Evan rubbed the back of his neck, looking just a bit uncomfortable. :: Delano: Well, there’s no sense getting worried about it now. If you end up needing some extra work, I’m sure we can figure something out. ::She sighed and crossed her arms.:: Moonsong: My brothers tried to teach me to shoot with antique projectile weapons. I’ve had the problem ever since I fractured my shoulder with a 12 gauge shotgun. :: The security chief gave Moonsong another raised eyebrow. He’d have to ask more about that story later. His stepfather had tried to teach him to use similar weapons a few years before he’d started at the Academy, but Evan had always preferred energy weapons. :: Delano: I don’t think you need to worry about kickback with most Starfleet weapons. Really, to shoot a type two all you need to do is point and click. Though I’ll need to make sure you know how to adjust settings and set your safety. Moonsong: ::sighs:: I assume you mean now… Delano: Well… we are here. ::break:: Look, why don’t you just show me what we’re looking at. We can call it a practice run. ::Raissa picked up one of the type two phasers and looked at it. She knew the basics of the device. She knew how to manage the settings. That part was easy enough. She even managed to not once point it in his direction. She wondered if he’d give her a waiver if she shot him….. accidentally.:: ::With another sigh she turned and faced the targets, holding the phaser with both hands she pointed. She aimed. Just before her finger compressed the trigger, her eyes squeezed shut and the beam missed the target.:: Delano: Hm. :: Evan rubbed his chin with a finger, thinking more about how to offer feedback without making the other officer any more embarrassed. He opted for humor, in the end. :: Delano: Well, at least you managed to make it downrange. Do you want to try it again with your eyes open? ::For a moment she leveled a look at him that promised harm.:: Moonsong: Evan, that’s my problem. ::Raissa tried again. She struggled as hard as she could to keep her eyes as wide open as possible until….. ZAP! Fortunately the floor was the only casualty.:: :: For his first few months on Garuda, he’d thought it strange that the phaser range attached to the ship’s armory went largely unused. Most of the crew opted to use the holodeck for such things, if only because the exercises were more entertaining. As he resisted the urge to duck, he suddenly had a new appreciation for holodeck safety protocols. :: Delano: Well, that was better. Raissa, it’s… almost like you’re afraid of it. Is this because of what happened to you with your brothers? Moonsong: ::she shrugged.:: I don’t know. I don’t like these types of weapons. Ancient or modern. My brothers love guns. They collect them. ::She sighed again and decided to tell him.:: Moonsong: I was twelve. The twins were fifteen. They didn’t tell me about kickback or blowback or whatever you call it. They made it look easy. They helped me hold it and aim it. I pulled the trigger and I swear I flew backward 10 yards, landing on my back with a broken shoulder. ::pause:: Of course at first they thought it was hilarious. Delano: Really? That’s… :: He really had no idea how to finish that sentence, but he tried anyway. :: Delano: … Awful. Moonsong: Siblings are like that. I developed a rapier wit in revenge. Delano: So… what, you have some kind of phobia to ranged weapons? How did you get through those courses at the Academy? Moonsong: I missed. I mean a missed a lot. But I was getting really good grades everywhere else. ::She sighed looking at the phaser in her hand.:: If the target is the size of a barn door, I can hit it. Law of averages they said. That or if I keep perfectly still and the target doesn’t move in the least, I can hit it. :: Evan nodded, though the truth of the matter was that he was a little bothered. His responsibility was to the safety of the ship and crew. That task seemed much more daunting if some of the crew weren’t as capable of defending themselves as he’d believed. He’d need to step up these evaluations, just to make sure he was aware of anyone else with similar issues. :: Delano: Well, I had a few classes like that, I suppose it isn’t that much of a stretch. Still, it’s my job to make sure you’re able to defend yourself in the event of some kind of emergency. ::break:: I don’t know, you’re the counselor. What would you tell a patient to do if she was having a similar problem? Moonsong: Practice, practice, practice until we can keep our eyes open. ::makes a slight face:: Unfortunately our current schedule doesn’t leave us a lot of wiggle room. Besides, unless the ship is boarded we doubt we’ll be allowed on any away missions. ::Pause.:: Now if it comes to throwing things… I’m very accurate. :: Evan noted the odd use of the plural pronoun, but assumed that Raissa was speaking of the two of them. :: Delano: I think we should make the time. Even say… twenty minutes every other day or so. Moonsong: ::sighs:: I suppose we don’t have a choice. We shall add it to our schedule. :: There it was again. :: Delano: Raissa, did you say ‘we’? What do you mean? ::Raissa cursed herself inwardly. On the bright side she didn’t slip up much in counseling sessions, but because she was with a friend she had relaxed. She looked up at the man she did consider a friend. But as chief of security, he did have a need to know.:: Moonsong: Bodhisattva could not remain. The construct was too damaged. A few hundred of the Community requested to remain to continue to observe our… Starfleet operations. ::another pause:: We.. I… agreed to be their host. :: Evan’s immediate instinct was to think about the potential security risks involved, but he held back from voicing it out loud. The question must have still been obvious in his expression. :: Moonsong: We know… we know… You will no doubt be hearing from the Captain and Dr. Skyfire about it… in exhaustive detail if we know CD. :: Evan nodded. :: Delano: It must be a fascinating experience for you. Mei’konda and I entered the Confluence during our first encounter with the Community. To be honest, it was… almost overwhelming. Are you sure you’ll be alright? ::Her smile faded a little.:: Moonsong: If it were a narcotic, I would be addicted. They have learned a great deal. It is like having an audience all the time. They are only observing so I’m fully in control… except for the occasional ‘we’ that slips out. Delano: Don’t worry, Raissa. I trust you enough to know your limits. But… if there’s something I can do to help, don’t hesitate to ask. Moonsong: ::The smile came back:: Trust me. I will. ::pause:: They remember you. :: He looked back to the phaser range and picked up a small type one phaser from the table. :: Delano: I don’t suppose one of those Community intelligences can help with your shooting? ::She went still. The rapid exchange of information. There was a flicker of light behind her irises, perhaps a trick of the light. Perhaps not.:: Moonsong: It it possible. They could act the moment the reflex kicks in. :: Evan held the smaller phaser out to the other lieutenant. :: Delano: Feel like giving it a try? ::There was a faint flicker of light.:: Moonsong: We have given permission to try. ::Raissa closed her eyes a moment and then took the smaller phaser Evan held out to her. She opened her eyes and pointed at the nearest target. As she pressed the trigger her eyes flicked, but they didn't close. It wasn't a perfect shot, but at least she hit the target.:: === Lieutenant Evan Delano Chief of Security/Tactical USS Garuda and Lt. Raissa Moonsong Counselor USS Garuda

Um, so I found this gem of a conversation on Ki Shandres's wiki profile: Um, have I mentioned lately that you guys are just the best?

(( Personal Quarters, USS Garuda)) ::The plants were gone. ::This was, in the great scheme of things, probably something she should be grateful for. The clean-up of the overgrown flora would have been a mammoth job, and not one she would have had the inclination -- or in her present condition, the stamina -- for. Whichever team had swept through her quarters had left them pristine. ::Almost pristine. There were traces, here and there. A small shard of pottery from a pot here, a sliver of glass from a terrarium there. They might as well have been splinters of her heart, the homes of the botanical sign-posts of her life, the living memories that she had cared for and cultivated for years. ::The bougainvillea bonsai she had picked up on Earth to celebrate her graduation from the Academy. ::The peace lily from Asterospolis, acquired shortly after her promotion to Chief Engineer aboard the Triumphant. ::The Martian rose that David had given her at the beginning of their doomed romance on the Independence. ::The fern from Romulus -- priceless, now that the planet was destroyed -- that she had convinced a botanical importer on Starbase 118 to bring in for her. ::The moon flower that Walter had awkwardly presented her with, after the Eagle had visited Risa in time for the lunar festival of Lohlunat. ::The rare orchid she had come by on Vulcan, after her first mission in command of the Drake. ::There were more. And they were all them, gone. ::She was lost, unaware until now of how much her collection had anchored her. Without their colours and scents, it felt like a stranger's room, foreign and sterile. ::A step away from burying herself under the blankets of her bed to mope, panic seized her. With the grace of a beached whale, she dropped to her hands and knees, scrambling underneath for a case she had never yet opened. ::A light film of dust covered the rigid black leather, smeared and wiped clean in winding trails where vines had crept over its surface. A deep crack stretched across its width, almost cleaving the case in half. The clasps were stubborn, a combination of her shaking hands and lack of use, and the lid split cleanly into two as she pushed it open. ::But there it was. Perfectly intact, the warm, rich tones of varnished maple shone in the light. The viola was the work of a craftsman, as beautiful as the music it made. ::She knelt there, staring at it, the ghostly echoes of duets and quartets it had played ringing in her ears. She played her piano on her own these days, and as much as she missed making music with others, it felt like a betrayal to even consider doing so.:: REYNOLDS: ::Quietly,:: I miss you. ::She heaved a sigh, bringing the two halves of the lid down to seal the case again. She'd have to replicate a new one for now, but perhaps she could see if one of the merchants on Deep Space Ten could import a replacement, hand-crafted one. It was the least she could do. ::Heaving herself to her feet, she reverently placed the broken case on the bed, and dragged herself toward the shower, hoping to wash away some of her gloom -- and with a hand on her swollen stomach, that she was done with loss and loneliness, at least for the immediate future.::-- Captain Quinn Reynolds Director of IntelligenceUSS Garuda

As a college instructor, I can say that I know (and have used myself!) this face. Great description!

Greetings, everyone! Want to read the entries from the final Writing Challenge, but don't have time to sit down at your computer? Need a way to take them with you on your tablet or mobile device? Now you have it! Please enjoy this full compilation of the "Love & Betrayal" Writing Challenge from November and December of 2014, our last regular Writing Challenge, available with all the entrants' stories and judges' comments. This is a PDF document with interior hyperlinks to each story for your ease of navigation, so do please read at your leisure. My great thanks to Captain Nugra for putting together this collection while I was unable to access my desktop! Please get yours here!

Hello, everyone -- entrants and readers and judges alike, It's with a heavy heart that I announce that the November & December 2014 round of the Writing Challenge will be the last regular Writing Challenge of the contest as we know it. Going forward, we will hold Writing Challenges only during special events -- for example, during our yearly Writing Improvement Month -- and we will be working to incorporate much of what kept the Writing Challenges going for so long into the Top Sims Contest. The decision to end the Writing Challenges wasn't easy and involved a lot of discussion on the Executive Council, but it's our hope that by ending the Challenge now, we will be able to improve the many forum contests (Top Sims, Featured Bio, and Graphics) that also exist. I know that many of you will be disappointed by this announcement, so I encourage you to remember the Challenges here -- a favorite story or theme, perhaps, if you're a regular writer, or something you learned or enjoyed writing as a result of the Challenge. I look forward to reading your remembrances, and I'll start off with one of my own: In August of 2005, I was a cadet and was just poking around the forums for the first time when I noticed the Writing Challenge that was going on at the time. The theme, "Devil in the Dark," seemed to be encouraging a lot of grimdark, gritty entries, so I decided to write something lighthearted about a Q who went by X. That story, "X Factors," was named the Challenge's winner when I was barely an ensign, and it established my interest in and association with the Writing Challenges from the very first. I look forward to reading about your memories! Help me celebrate the end of this great contest in style!

Thank you to each of our many entrants in this round! The judges were extremely pleased with your efforts, and though we had five judges for ten entries(!), that didn't make deciding upon a winner any easier. But, a few days after the new year, I'm pleased to bring you the results of the last Writing Challenge of 2014, "Love and Betrayal"! Our winner, with his story "The Ties That Bind," is the writer behind Sinda Essen, and our runner-up is "Chocolate," from the writer behind Maxwell Traenor. Congratulations to these writers and to the rest of our fine entrants! I'd like to recognize my fellow judges for this round: the writers behinds Fleet Captain Toni Turner, Lieutenant Commander Sal Taybrim, Lieutenant Ren Rennyn, and special guest Captain Della Vetri. Each of them worked hard to make sure that their reviews were thoughtful and detailed and that their rankings were especially well-considered, given the number of stories. My thanks to them! Unfortunately, I won't have access to my home computer until mid-January and so I won't be able to create the normal story collection in PDF format until then. Please let me know if you would like a collection! *** "Out There"Writer's Character: Irina PavlovaJudge's Character: Sal Taybrim I like how you are exploring and fleshing out your character with every successive story. Focusing on Irina’s Terran past is a great way to make a more believable and empathetic character. I found this was a clean, well written story, but it was a bit underdeveloped. When I read “Stargazer” I though that instead of two companion stories, you could have combined them both to make one story that was better than the sum of its parts. Both stories taken as separate pieces were interesting little tidbits, but left the reader wanting more. If you blend these stories in a dramatic fashion (think of your favorite movie tricks – like split screening or flashbacks or scenes that ‘ping pong’ between two related characters in different situations) you can come up with a cohesive whole that really tells the story of love from both perspectives at once. This feels like an often told tale – one that you have thought about so much that it seems ingrained. The trap of an often told tale is that it can seem stale with multiple retellings. But the opportunity in an often told tale is to the ability to really play around with literary devices and experiment. As I mentioned before, draw from your favorite narrative tricks from the movies and see what happens. What if you wrote a story that flashed between Irina in the future and Dmitri in the past, melding the story so each one’s thoughts and actions seemed to play off the other one’s even though they were decades and light years apart. Or try different focuses. What would the story sound like it written strictly from Katya’s perspective? Or if told from the perspective of Dmitri as a ghost watching Irina and Katya finally come home? Exercises like these will not only help you grow as a writer, but will help you develop an even better understanding of your characters and how they react to things. ***"A Vulcan Scorned"Writer's Character: SivahJudge's Character: Toni Turner "A Vulcan Scorned" is a provocative, but short, story dwelving into the age old question sparked by "He loves me, he loves me not." Only in this case the one scorned, ended up asking, "Why did you not want me?” While it is true that Ensign Sivah painted a perfect picture of Seltuur's arrogance, and the unreasonable demands he wanted to force upon her, he was willing to honor their betrothal, if she so willed it. Both clearly loved someone else, but Seltuur paid the price for his betrayal, especially since Sivah contrived such a vicious fate for him and his true love, while she was set free to marry Angelica. I liked the story because it was different, but in places it seemed a bit choppy and words forced. However, in it's entirety, the composition was quite understandable and well-developed. I like to see new members enter the challenges as they bring new ideas to the front. Well done, Ensign Sivah. *** "Birthdays"Writer's Character: Talia KajiJudge's Character: Cassandra Egan Manno Oh, wow, does this story have a gift for scene-setting! I could easily see the frantic pace and the quick rotation through memory and scene being disruptive and off-putting, but "Birthdays" presents that movement very well. Each flashback begins with an evocative, vivid description to place its reader, always before any dialogue, and each of those descriptions is awash with color, shape, and sensory information. I would've followed this story into another ten scenes if it asked me to -- it was that deft with its movements. Of course, including more scenes would mean risking the story's overall structure, which I wouldn't advise -- but "Birthdays," as written, never does that. Each flashback returns to Marianette in the present, and the repetition of "it was her birthday" never lets the reader forget why. "Birthdays" is ambitious with its descriptions and the overarching story it tells, but it's even more ambitious with the range of emotions it asks its readers to feel -- and that's where it faltered a bit for me. Each of the flashbacks was to such a pivotal, life-changing moment, and each happened so quickly, that I never really felt strongly invested in any of them. I felt more connected to the Marianette in the present, and I think that this may have been the goal: This present Marianette has (albeit only on her birthday!) reviewed these memories so often that she's become a little deadened to them. If that is the case, then I would've liked to have felt a little more of that, because it seemed that every memory was, for her, still sharp and painful. It may be that they were! But if so, then many such memories may have been too much for one short story. My advice for this writer, then, would be to let such emotionally charged flashbacks breathe a little. Give them more space, use your wonderful abilities to illustrate them with sensory information, and trust your readers to feel along with your characters. All things considered, this was a wonderful, strong story from a first-time entrant, and I fully expect to see more of your great writing in the future! *** "Chocolate"Writer's Character: Maxwell TraenorJudge's Character: Cassandra Egan Manno I struggled to find the best word to encapsulate this story, but after another read-through, I think that "delightful" is the way to go. It's as stilted and awkward as I'd expect a first contact between a physicist and an alien over food and drinks to be. What really makes that atmosphere work, though, is that it revels in its minutiae -- the untranslatable "cuisine" and "dessert," the description and delight involved when Maxwell eats that desert. In my experience, it's very difficult to write an awkward story that isn't constantly tripping over itself to prove its awkwardness, but "Chocolate" pulls it off: We've already seen, by the time the dessert arrives, how uncomfortable Maxwell is feeling, so that provides a whole different perspective with which to view his sudden obsession with the dessert. Also, the phrase "bloat with joy" is definitely one I'll be using again. The twist, such as it is, is both funny and oddly touching, as Maxwell's companion protests ignorance and Maxwell himself doesn't ever want to stop eating. "Delightful," in retrospect, is definitely the right word to describe "Chocolate." I'm quite happy with the story as presented, but if I had some advice for its writer, it would be to think more deeply about what's going beyond the first layer of the story. As above, I read here an essential awkwardness that may not have been intended to be present throughout the story, but which I found quite pleasingly present in all of what I read. Could there have been more, though? Perhaps, in the midst of the humor, some subtle comments about the terror of food allergies and unconscious body reactions, or perhaps something about unintended addiction (if Maxwell really couldn't stop eating)? I've found that comedy is often the best medium to express both the terrible and the terrifying, and given what had been built up by the story's end, I would have absolutely followed it into some darker territory. Not every story needs a dozen layers, of course, but given that this story was so strong on its surface, I'd challenge the writer to try for more! All in all, this was an excellent story from a first-time entrant who has some real chops to show off with vivid description and some nice humor. I'll be looking for more great writing from this writer in the future! ***"Betrayal of Love"Writer's Character: NugraJudge's Character: Ren Rennyn Nugra's tale of love and betrayal proves that every theme has an unpredictable amount of variations. The story kept me guessing as to how it would fulfill the contest's theme, but in the end, the overall effect was spot on in making its point. To save Iria from being the monster he has made her, Nugra has to become a monster himself by betraying her.Details that seemed minor at first later proved important. The picturesque monastery was revealed to be part of Nugra's plan. The reason he knew which berries were safe illustrated his premeditated intentions. I enjoyed the teasing out of information about Iria, how the damage done to her by her father becomes more clear as the story progresses. The way this is revealed piece by piece in both images of Iria's actions and information in Nugra's thoughts, makes the story enticing all the way through.The action sequence showing that Iria was at her father's side in battle was told in exciting language that made it fun to read. This part of the story might have been improved by showing Iria's participation in battle, illustrating what is described about her battle tactics in the next section. The imagery of Iria gleefully taking down enemies would be interesting to see in more detail.A number of minor grammatical and spelling errors disrupt the flow of the story, and these could be easily fixed. Nugra's story illustrates that betrayal can be one of the strongest forms of love, if as difficult for the betrayer as for the betrayed. ***"Can I help you?"Writer's Character: Avaris TorrinJudge's Character: Cassandra Egan MannoThe conceit of this story was absolutely fascinating: True to the Challenge guidelines, the story doesn't focus upon canon characters, but Benjamin Sisko and his actions during DS9's series run are integral to "Can I help you?" It's an approach I haven't seen often in the Challenges and was a welcome take on the theme, as it accomplished what, for example, the TNG episode "Lower Decks" did so well: We often see what becomes of the great leaders and their officers, but what about the normal people? There's something quite subversive in the thematic approach of this story, as expressed (or, rather, oppositely expressed) by the bereaved Aelya -- is it inflammatory to care about those who died under great leaders, and to question those qualities that seem to make the leaders great? I did find "Can I help you?" to work better as a story of themes and large concepts, however, and it broke down a little bit when I considered its scenes and individual lines. At that small level, it didn't seem to be a Star Trek story, really, which are characterized for me as both thoughtful and thought-provoking (and I do think there is a difference!), and I would have liked to see more thinking on the page. For example, phrases like "the ultimate sacrifice, doing what was right" are very much in twenty-first century political vogue, but "Can I help you?" doesn't appear to update them or think about what they mean, and that follows for a lot of its rhetoric, too. I found myself frequently distracted by errors in spelling, grammar, and usage -- and while I usually tend to read past such things, misspellings and incorrect grammar kept me from understanding what the story was trying to say in a few places. I would certainly encourage this author to use checkers for spelling and grammar in the future, as well as to think deeply about what makes a Star Trek story -- and why such stories are still important to tell. Overall, though, I did appreciate the large ideas contained herein, and I'd like to see more of this type of thinking in the future! *** "Blunt Forces 2: Debriefing"Writer's Character: Clayas VellJudge's Character: Della Vetri This story was something that we tend not to see all that often: a dip into looking at what happens *after* all the big action that tends to be many writers' focus. It was made especially interesting since the main character of this story, Ellen, is a long way from as experienced as she might wish she was. Indeed, that forms a sizeable part of what is explored during the story, as well as her thoughts and feelings about what she has endured. Whilst it might help to have read what went before, the important details are not only recapped in this one, but it's done in a way that makes them important elements of the story itself instead of simply a quick info dump. In fact, I actually found myself drawn to go read the preceding story just to give this one the extra context - not that it needed it, but it did help. I did find it perhaps a little cumbersome in terms of structure, however, with sentences needing to be broken up a bit more to help the flow. That said, it was still quite readable and engaging, and I had no problem following things. Overall, I can comfortably say I look forward to seeing more of Cadet Cain's adventures in the future. ***"You will not take this, too"Writer's Character: Akeelah D'SenaJudge's Character: Della Vetri An interesting tale of the conflict between family expectation and personal desire, and how the two can come into rather serious conflict. One thing that definitely came across to me was a sense of inevitability, with the ultimate outcome not really in any sort of doubt - but just how we *get* there is the interesting bit. The writer made good use of some very evocative language, doing a great job of setting the scene. This gives the reader a solid basis to build their mental image of what is going on, and also gives them a bit more of a handle on the characters themselves. It's also very easy to get behind the main character of the story, Jalana, and be on her side throughout it all... though that is also, in part, due to how utterly unsympathetic her father comes across. If I have any real issue with how the characters and such are portrayed, it is how black and white things are portrayed. Given the limits of how long these works can be, however, that is quite understandable, and I'd be surprised if more room to work in didn't lead to much more nuanced characterisations. That said, there is no mistaking the agendas of the characters, and that clarity serves the story well. I also liked the little touches here and there, details that hint to the history behind what is going on. For example, the whole deal with the collar shines a quick light on what is obviously a routine the two characters had fallen into a long time before. All in all, a good piece of work, and an interesting read. I'd be happy to see more! ***"Stargazer"Writer's Character: Irina PavlovaJudge's Character: Cassandra Egan Manno In a round of such a large, operatic theme, many of the stories seemed to be like-minded -- and maybe that's why I appreciated "Stargazer" so much. As with many of this author's entries, "Stargazer" was a quiet, personal story. Many times, these entries have felt like one serialized story about Irina Pavlova's background, unfolded and expounded in different ways depending upon the specific Challenge theme, and given that Irina's story is literally one of love across time and space, I was pleased to see that this story focused most intently upon those moments of quiet reflection. In many ways, this story is a call back to the first golden age of science fiction: It's a story that could only be told with such a backdrop, and I appreciate it all the more for the history -- both personal and with respect to the genre -- that "Stargazer" appears to hold closely. I'm very pleased with the story's length, too; any longer and it would have ruined the meditative quality that this entry possesses. However, I would've encouraged some mixing of structural elements for this one: All of the dialogue in this story comes in its second half, which is not incidentally the here and now of the story, and all of the history/reflection/description comes earlier in the story. Given that I think Irina's conversation with Katya follows well from what came earlier, I wouldn't have advocated mixing the two halves necessarily. Rather, I would've liked to see Irina's reflections after that conversation, after they were aboard the shuttle. Would the style that followed be similar to the first half? Would it have been even more personal? I'm not sure, but I would've liked to see?All in all, though, this was a strong entry from this year's Data Artistic Award winner, and I am, as always, glad to read more of Irina's ongoing story! ***"The Ties that Bind"Writer's Character: Sinda EssenJudge's Character: Sal Taybrim Let me start off by saying that this is a well thought out story. I think the plot and the twist was well developed and delivered. The whole idea behind the piece was one of the best of the round. I particularly liked how you sprung the Klingon attack with very little preamble. Marsha was surprised, the audience was surprised, it pushed the action forward in a big burst – a very nice effect! One thing that struck me was that this story looks so polished. The title with the quote is a nice opening. But within the first few paragraphs there are some spacing problems and some sentences that do not read smoothly. I found this was a jarring transition and I had to go back and keep re-reading parts to see if they were grammatically incorrect or just rough to read. I will note that I am a big fan of a ‘well groomed’ story, visually as well as proof-reading wise. I read pauses, breaks and emphasis into the spacing and layout of the page. At the very beginning it looks like there should be more spacing in the second paragraph, but instead it gets all lumped together like a run-on paragraph. Another thing I struggled with in this story was the strength of the plot vs. the strength of the characters. The conversation at the end of the story is well written and powerful, but it did not grip me as it should have. And I realized on a second (and third) read though that was because I had very little reason to care about the characters. Marsha strikes me as a human rebel every-woman, with a father who cares more for his wife than his daughter… why? I know you touched upon this with the whole ‘she’s the one who keeps me sane’ but I didn’t really get to see enough of the father character to feel for either one of them. I wanted you as an author to dig into that mindset and really let me know how a man could be driven to betray his daughter. I am wondering how this story would have read if it was written from the POV of the father. Or, delving into Marsha’s family and past would have also brought a stronger sense of connection. Maybe starting the story with a flashback of their happy family, or giving some personal details to the main characters. Zill gets a stronger personality in the opening scene than Marsha does, so it is difficult to connect with Marsha when it flashes over to such a personal scene in the second half. I think more background – in both characters and setting would have really made this story shine. I found myself wondering things like ‘when is this in the Alliance timeline?’ and on the first read though I stopped and went ‘wait, did I read that right? We’re in the mirror universe?’ I felt like I was just thrown willy-nilly in to a point of time just before the action starts, making it hard for me to ‘get into’ this story and the characters. That is a shame since the plot is very solid and the ending dialogue is a great piece of interaction! The whole story would benefit from more set-up. I think this was well written; it had good language and a great idea that just needed a bit of extra polish to really stand out. I’m glad to be able to read one of your stories!

Sorry for the delay, everyone! We hope to have winners announced by tomorrow, or Saturday at the very latest!

These lines made me laugh. You never know! Maybe the whole thing is a prank. *** Sampson: =/\= Some of the plants are… acting up sir. =/\= :: With a sigh, Evan grabbed his temples with a thumb and forefinger. :: Delano: =/\= Is this some kind of prank? I know I haven’t been chief for very long, but-- =/\=

Thanks to everyone who entered! This Challenge is officially over and the judges are now convening!

I was absolutely thrilled with how it turned out! I couldn't not nominate it, I tell you!

(( Menthar Memories )) DELANO: Why come to me with this? :: The human on the other side of the table was leaning forward, his hands clasped in front of him. Andrew Davenport. Journalist and, apparently, troublemaker. Something about the man had made Evan suspicious of the man the moment he’d sat down at the table. :: :: At Davenport’s request, Evan had come in inconspicuous civilian clothing - a simple button up shirt and dark slacks - to conceal his Starfleet affiliation. Davenport himself wore a dark hooded shirt that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in a few days. :: As the reporter talked, Evan watched for any tell that might betray a lie. :: DAVENPORT: Because you’re the closest thing to a cop I’m willing to trust right now. (lowering his voice) Someone tried to kill me - or have me killed - and I don’t think it was one of these Maquis Reborn. :: Evan looked the man over. He’d done a little digging into the journalist’s background before agreeing to meet with him. The man was not well-liked within Starfleet, and though he did have a following among some political ideologues on Earth, he was virtually unknown outside of the Sol system. In fact, Evan had learned, the man hadn’t so much as left the system in at least seven years. Until he abruptly decided to move to the frontier. He also happened to arrive on DSX the day before a terrorist organization had attacked the station. :: :: Andrew Davenport wasn’t just suspicious. It was clear he was hiding something. Something that Evan intended to know before this conversation was over. Whatever it was, Davenport seemed to think it was dangerous. :: DELANO: What’s wrong with Glinn Zorkal? :: The human looked surprised.:: DAVENPORT: Besides the fact that he’d probably arrest me as a suspected Maquis sympathizer? :: Evan narrowed his eyes. :: DELANO: What makes you think I won’t? DAVENPORT: Because you’re Vulcan. Or at least half-Vulcan. Zorkal seems like a good man, but he’s also the Cardassian chief of security on a station that just lost its Cardassian CO to a terrorist attack. A terrorist attack with Federation - and more importantly, anti-Cardassian roots. I think you’re more likely to be able to see past that and help me figure out what’s going on. :: Evan sighed and picked up his drink. He’d barely touched it. He liked black russians, but he wanted to keep his mind clear. A very large part of him wanted to simply get up and walk away from the table. Maybe send a message to Zorkal, or Calderan, or even Egan Manno. But he could see the logic in the journalist’s explanation. The Cardassian justice system was inconsistent at best. If higher ups were calling for arrests, Evan wasn’t sure he’d put his trust in a Cardassian security officer either. :: :: On the Starfleet side of things, Evan, a lieutenant, could be more discreet than a higher ranking officer like Calderan. Besides, if Davenport’s would-be assassin wasn’t part of the Maquis Reborn, there was a good chance he - or she - was a Federation citizen. Davenport’s background didn’t seem to account for enemies from other jurisdictions. :: :: Evan set his glass down without so much as a sip. :: DELANO: Alright. I can probably look into this. But I’ll still need to talk to Zorkal. :: Davenport looked like he wanted to object, but he held his tongue. That earned him a few points, Evan thought. :: DELANO: I don’t know if the captain will go for it, but I may be able to get you quarters on Garuda. That would put you in our jurisdiction and give me at least some legal authority to start poking around. :: Davenport nodded and remained quiet for a moment. He looked around the bar, then returned his focus to Evan. :: DAVENPORT: I always hated space travel. :: Evan raised an eyebrow. :: DELANO: You’ve come an awfully long way, then. :: The journalist shrugged and downed the last of his own drink. Something orange and with a vague floral scent. He thought it might be Risian, but Evan couldn’t identify it with any certainty. :: DAVENPORT: I have a good reason. I was… I thought it would make for a good story, but after this… :: The human averted his eyes and focused on the single ice cube at the bottom of his glass. :: DELANO: (harshly) I’m through with vagueries, Mr. Davenport. If you want my help, you need to tell me what this is about. Why would someone want you dead? :: Davenport swallowed, once, then looked him in the eye. :: DAVENPORT: (voice low) How closely do you follow Council politics? :: Council? As in the Federation Council? What the hell was this about? :: DELANO: I vote. I read up on the candidates when I do. That’s about it. DAVENPORT: Did you know that they heavily influenced the decision to share this station with the Cardassians? DELANO: And? DAVENPORT: None of that debate was public. I only know about it because… (break) Ugh, that’s not important. Don’t you think it’s a little strange that the Federation Council is making backroom deals with the Cardassian government? DELANO: Not really. We’ve been working with them for decades. Ever since the war, really. DAVENPORT: Exactly! But that cooperation has always been transparent and open. Why keep it behind closed doors now? Why not tell the Starfleet officers in the region until the deal was done? :: Egan Manno had asked him about this very thing while he’d still been Garuda’s Strategic Operations head. He’d never managed to find her a good answer. :: DELANO: I still don’t understand what you’re getting at. :: Davenport leaned even closer. Deep brown eyes locked on his. :: DAVENPORT: Something big - something very big - is about to happen between the Federation and the Cardassian governments. Something that a lot of people aren’t going to like. Something that could even lead to things like… say the rebirth of an anti-Cardassian terrorist group. :: Evan immediately thought of the sabotage he’d found in Ambassador Prianna’s shuttle during Garuda’s encounter with the Kubarey. Of the strange rumblings out of Zeta Equulei regarding the end of the Myr Luuk/Community conflict. Harrison Ross’ not-quite-explained treason. Could there be a common thread? :: :: Now it was Evan’s turn to whisper. :: DELANO: Are you saying that factions within the Federation are actively conspiring against the Council? :: The reporter’s eyes lit up and a mirthless smile curled his lip. :: DAVENPORT: I don’t know for sure, but I can see it in your eyes. It would explain a lot of what’s been going on around here, wouldn’t it? DELANO: Yes, but… :: For centuries now, the Federation believed itself to have moved beyond this kind of petty politics. Yes, the occasional official was removed from office for scandals, but this was way beyond that. It bordered on sedition. The memory of the Dominion War was still fresh for many of its survivors. Yes, the Cardassians had ultimately paid a heavy price for their role in escalating to war, but there were those who had called for greater reparations. Sanctions. Some had even advocated for the complete annexation of Cardassian space. A few of those people were still sitting members of the Council. :: DAVENPORT: You understand, right? The Council is sitting on an old fashioned powder keg. They’ve started the ball rolling towards… something. Only now they’ve realized that some of us - Cardassian and Federation - aren’t ready. So both governments are trying to find a way to resolve this without having it blow up in their faces. DELANO: And you think someone would kill you to keep you from… what, telling others what you know? :: The reporter shook his head. :: DAVENPORT: Probably not for that. But… I know I seem suspicious, and when tensions are high, it isn’t hard to force a connection between one suspicion and another. Maybe some Cardassian gul thought I was an agent for the Council - some kind of shadow representative, perhaps. Maybe some other government caught wind of the deal and is trying to stop it. Who knows. That’s what I need you to find out. DELANO: And what’s in it for you? :: Davenport shrugged, finally leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. :: DAVENPORT: It’ll still make one hell of a story when it’s all over. :: Evan resisted the urge to roll his eyes.:: DELANO: Unless someone kills you first. :: The journalist’s expression quickly soured as Evan stood up to leave. :: DELANO: Don’t worry, I’m not going to let that happen. If I can help it, anyway. I suggest you return to your quarters until I have a chance to talk to the captain about bringing you on board. DAVENPORT: And what should I do in the meantime? :: Now it was Evan’s turn to smile. :: DELANO: Write. Or whatever it is you normally do. You just witnessed the rebirth of one of the most infamous terrorist organizations in the history of the quadrant. Isn’t that enough to keep you busy for a few days? :: The other man nodded, though he seemed reluctant. :: DAVENPORT: You're right, I suppose. :: The reporter sighed and started getting to his feet. :: DAVENPORT: Lieutenant, I really appreciate you helping me out with this., DELANO: Don’t thank me yet. Something tells me this is going to get a lot messier before we're done. === Lieutenant Evan Delano Chief of Security/Tactical USS Garuda Andrew Davenport Freelance Journalist

Congratulations, and welcome to our community!

Congratulations to both of you and welcome to the community!

Try this link! http://www.starbase118.net/members/personnel/forms/award-nomination-panel/?1 The only difference from the official link is the "?1," which will force your browser to reload the page, clear its cache, and display the form correctly.

Congratulations and welcome!

I like to think that this is, generally speaking, Nia's diplomatic philosophy.

What better way to end 2014 than by showcasing a little of the best a character can be -- and a little of the worst? LOVE & BETRAYAL For our final Challenge of the year, the writer behind Nathaniel Wilmer and our previous Challenge's winner asks you to consider a theme as old as writing itself. With clear roots back to the first recorded epics, including The Epic of Gilgamesh -- so famously used by Jean-Luc Picard in the TNG episode "Darmok" -- there's no more mythic or archetypal way to close out 2014! Is what ways will your characters access this theme? Will they be the lovers or the beloved, love unrequitedly or reciprocally, love from far or near; or will they be the betrayer or the betrayed, the watcher or the enactor or the friend? There are endless ways to interpret this theme, and the judges look forward to seeing what your take on it might be. As of today, Sunday, November 2nd, this Challenge is open! We'll ask that all of your submissions come in by Friday, December 26th -- enough time for the judges to convene and to bring you your final winner of 2014 before the new year! As always, please remember:*Your work must be completely original.*You must be the sole author of the work.*Your story must take place in the Star Trek universe, but may not center upon canon characters. *Sign your final draft as you would a post on your ship. Your story need not concern any of your characters (PC or NPC), and your story's style can be anything you might like (and does not need to conform to simming standards).*Your story must be between 300 and 3000 words. For any questions you might have, remember that you can always post questions to this thread or visit the Writing Challenge website. Please also take a look at our new wiki page! And don't forget to get your copy of our mobile collection of the September & October Challenge! Good luck!