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Jalana

Captains Council member
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Everything posted by Jalana

  1. Congratulations everyone. You are all so very deserving and make this group the fantastic place it is!
  2. Congratulations everyone. I'm so proud and happy and excited for everyone!
  3. Jalana Rajel isn't too proud of her former hosts work once more. She wears an airy light Zindara Rajel to the Crimson Carpet.
  4. Hiya, thank you for your question! I personally have written to first done the whole becoming an officer thing and later on went through remote training to become a host. That required a mentor close by which was another Trill character who was played by another player. That way I could do both without interferences and include another player in the process as well. The early 20s is a required minimum age, that does not mean it has to happen at that time, so you can become creative with that. Hope that helps!
  5. @Maxwell Traenor just shared this with me. A TNG script written by a predictive algorhythm - and we can't stop laughing, so here it is for you to enjoy as well http://botnik.org/content/tng.html
  6. (( Nugra's Office - USS Gorkon )) :: Anyone that had spent any time around him knew that Nugra preferred everything ordered and in its place. The vacuum cleaner stood proudly in the corner by the potted plant and a 3 foot black triangle case that housed a secret that he was not yet ready to boot up. The Gorn had finally had time to clean up on their voyage back to a place known as Iana Station and also get access to subspace again. :: :: The place he spent more time than his own quarters were filled with screens that either displayed the lazily spinning logo of Starfleet or had the face of a commander or a captain on it. There was even a commodore on the far panel listening quietly to the conversation. :: Stoker: That's pretty much it, Captain Nugra. We've been tracking Orion movements through the northern part of the sector. Starbase 173 picked up a small cluster of cruisers making their way towards the general direction of Khazara. :: A Bolian commander wearing the yellow of a tactical officer ran his hand across his bald head. :: Gresk: And you think that Sicarian ship picked up by the Pakled freighters has nothing to do with it. We can't have the Orions in bed with Sicarius. :: For the first time, Nugra spoke up, his gravely voice silencing everyone. It was not like he did it on purpose, it was just the deep, raspy growl kicked some sort of defensive mechanism in mammalian species. :: Nugra: Sicarian presence in the Tyrellian sector is almost non-existent. The data shows that it is too heavily trafficked for them to want to use as a base. Everything we have found about them shows a tendency to live in outlying systems away from prying eyes. I think the Orion are simply sifting their fleets to handle the Romulan Empire which has been re-gaining their strength in recent years. :: Bother Stoker and Gresk nodded. They were both Chiefs of their respective vessels as as the Taskforce Security Liaison, it had been made his job to coordinate and keep the data flowing. The position was a new idea and the idea was that having such a freeflow of tactical and security minded people could help provide the right data at the right time for anyone functioning in the Tyrellian sector. :: Nugra: Anything else? Stoker: That's it for me. Same time next month? Nugra: Unless something comes up. :: The channels all clicked to the Starfleet symbol and Nugra turned to the Commodore who had remained silent for most of the time. :: Nugra: I hope you are doing well, Commodore Westhaven. :: The human woman with red hair smiled at him and gave him a friendly nod. :: Westhaven: I am Captain. Thank you for the opportunity to listen in. I'm hoping that with the information you provided, Starfleet Sciences & Technologies can consider moving a contingent in to examine and be available in case of an encounter with a hazardous object. :: Starfleet Sciences & Technologies or more commonly referred to as the SST was a special team of Starfleet personnel trained in the retrieval and clean up of powerful and alien technology. They made a name for themselves cleaning up the Borg cube at the Battle of Wolf 359 and saving seven of the wrecked Federation vessels. They had risked their lives to board a breaching ship and use their expertise to save the hull from destruction. :: Nugra: I am glad. I hope to see you here personally one day so I may show you around. Westhaven: I might take you up on that, Nugra. You have a good rest of your evening. :: Nugra remained silent at the use of his name. As a Gorn, to show respect was to use the properly earned title. That was why he had a tendency to use Mister or a persons rank, even though they were friends. Like Alucard Vess. He only called the man by his first name in private or close knit group of friends. He was still referred to as Commander or Mister Vess in front of juniors. It was his appropriately earned title. Now, when it came to his superiors, he forgave it as a sign of respect to their authority. :: :: The chime at his door rang and he turned wondering what was next on his list. He did not expect the buxom but willowy woman who strode in with arms clasped in front of her and a PADD held against her stomach. Her blond hair cascaded down her shoulders which looked strange against her green skin. Her blue eyes were even more striking as Orions were never supposed to have that color. The glittering insignia of a Petty Officer 1st Class. :: Nugra: Petty Officer Shedet. :: She shifted uncomfortably and glanced down at her feet. Shedet was a carefree and happy Orion woman that sometimes made Nugra sick to his stomach. She just moved too much at times. To see her quiet and respectful was not normally her stye. In a way, she seemed older since the last time they spoke. :: Shedet: Permission to enter? Nugra: ::motioning to a chair:: Please. :: She walked in and the Gorn caught a few crewman passing by take a quick peek at her. He had heard Orions could be provocative but that was something outside his understanding. :: Nugra: Mister Shedet. Do you know why you are here? :: Her skinned lightened slightly as she paled from his words. The Gorn did not blame her. The last time he had said something like that did not end well for her. :: (( FLASHBACK - 239202.15 - Ready Room - USS Victory )) Nugra: Enter. :: The door hissed open and Shedet's eyes immediately found the massive lizard that was working behind the mahogany desk. He was busy tapping on the computer. Shedet entered, but remained quiet. :: Nugra: Sit. :: Obeying, she immediate moved over to the chair across from his desk and sat down. For the next five minutes, the room was only filled with the sound of his razor sharp claws tapping away. Nugra finally clicked off the screen and turned to her, hands folded in front of him. :: Nugra: Mr. Shedet. Do you know why you are here? Shedet: I would assume it has to do with the invasion of the Victory while we were in the nebula? :: The Orion was not going to just walk into his waiting claws. There was no escape, but she was going to wiggle as much as possible. :: Nugra: Yes. Your actions, in the long run, saved the ship, but I am extremely angry about your hack of the Victory's computer systems. Only command grade officers are allowed to have the access you decided to give yourself and the intrusion could have weakened the system as a whole. Lieutenant Commander Sharpe's office has wound up having to go through each part of the whole ship's database to make sure there are no other surprises. You have cost this crew quite a number of credits. :: Shedet remained silent. It was standard procedure and there were probably a bunch of programmers cursing her name at the moment. :: Nugra: Furthermore, you threatened a non-commissioned officer and that is unacceptable. :: Shedet's left eyebrow shot up. She threatened somebody?:: Shedet: Sir? Nugra: You threatened Sergeant Major Kildare with your....::reading PADD::...brassier. Shedet: ::snickering:: Oh, yes. :: The cold stare from the Gorn stole any humor from the situation. :: Nugra: Now, it is time to deal with all of your issues, Miss Shedet. oO Ouch, he used my proper title. Oo Nugra: Your actions did save this ship and for that I am grateful. The ends do not justify the means and so I am hereby removing you from the chain of command. Shedet: Excuse me, sir? Nugra: Under Article 15 of the Orders of Court Martial, I am going to offer you the following administrative discipline. In an effort to improve your attitude and standing as a starfleet officer, you are going to be added to a 'Re-education' program of my own. You will temporarily loose all rank and privilege, you will be on 12 hour shifts 6 days a week with 1 day for a planned rest period. You will be assigned whatever job I see fit to improve your understanding on the procedures, and this will last as long as I am sure of your re-integration in to starfleet. Upon your successful graduation, you will be restored as a full lieutenant. oO Where there is a silver lining to this hell. Oo Nugra: Though you must voluntarily accept this discipline, I should advise you that my official action in a court martial will be to send you to a maximum security penal colony for 20 or more years. :: Shedet's heart was in her shoes. She was offered a hell on earth for an unknown amount of time, or a definitive hell in a penal colony for twenty plus years. Standing, Shedet spoke quietly. :: Shedet: I'll accept the article 15, sir. Nugra: Remove your rank. :: Taking off the jacket so she only was wearing her black T-shirt, she distinctively knew what that meant. She wasn't allowed to even wear the uniform till he decided. :: Nugra: Return to your post. Your new regimen starts tomorrow. Dismissed. (( END FLASHBACK )) Shedet: No, sir. I do not know why I'm here. Nugra: Because, Petty Officer. I'd like you to consider a position change. :: That had caught her off guard. He had looked into her history when he heard she was aboard and found that while aboard the USS Darwin-A helping then Captain Renos, she had voluntarily given up her commission to become enlisted. Since they she had a rather storied career with no blemishes. :: Shedet: Sir? Nugra: I'd like you to consider becoming my Aide in the Taskforce Security Liaison position. I need someone to help me with the administrative and someone who can think on their feet. There are some excellent candidates onboard but I want someone I know. Shedet: ::surprised:: I'm...I'm honored, Captain but I don't know with our past.... Nugra: I'm willing to move forward if you are. I was harsh on you and for that I do apologize. :: The apology seemed to be more stunning than the job offer. He was such a hard nosed and arrogant officer so many years before. His experience with the crew of the Hatsheput had taught him a lot. :: Shedet: ::beaming:: Apology accepted, Captain, though you were not out of line. I did hack the Victory's system and if Victoria had found out, I'd be in a hell of a mess. :: Nugra nodded to the triangle box and she glanced over at it. :: Shedet: No...You don't have her... Nugra: That's for another time, Petty Officer. If you want time to think about the position-- Shedet: No, sir. I'll take it. I'm honored you'd ask me. :: She stood and they both shook hands. A very human gesture that the Gorn and Orion had settled on as a way to communicate. She held his clawed hand for a moment and then patted it with the other. :: Shedet: I think she would be very proud of what you have become, Sir. Nugra: ::confused:: Who? Nugra: Talia Kaji. She did ask me to watch out for you if we were ever together. I'll be able to do what I promised. :: Nugra's stomach dropped slightly and then he gave a forlorn smile. His heart ached for a woman that he realized that he loved only after she had left. She was serving on the Obsidian Colony with a grant and from what he could tell, doing it happily. :: Nugra: Dismissed, Shedet...and thank you. :: She turned to leave and he went back to his desk. :: Nugra: Just please...don't strangle anyone with your brassier. I don't want to explain that one to the Admiral. Shedet: ::Grinning: Well, you've got to wear one to use one. :: The dead serious look made Shedet quickly clarify. :: Shedet: It's a joke, sir. I am fully aware of the clothing regulations. :: With that, she left. :: -- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Captain Nugra Taskforce Security Liaison Publicity Facilitator The Archivist USS Gorkon, NCC-82293 V238008N10 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  7. Jalana had her basic training at the Academy, but as a medical doctor, she had not used any of it ever since. So as with everything else "If you don't use it you lose it" she doesn't have any ability left. With a past life of a cop, that sometimes hits her pretty hard. She also freezes up when she has to use a phaser. As a Co she sometimes has to be able to do self-defence or using a phaser, so right now she asked an old friend and her Tactical officer Teryn Vehk to help her re-learning these things. Looking forward to these sims.
  8. Welcome! I'm in Second Life too, have been for a long time Hope you'll have as much fun here, it's a great bunch
  9. Jalana is wearing - just like last year - an original creation by Zindara Rajel, one of her former hosts.
  10. It completely depends on the Character. My first PNPC was one rank below my character when I started simming them (they still are Ensign, just I am not lol). Others were enlisted or Civilian, again others had the same rank when I started playing them. I just usually go with what fits best to them, where I wanna go with them or their whole background story, age and so on.
  11. (( Starbase 104, Promenade )) :: Tad stood in the center of the promenade floor, the eye of a storm of bustle and activity. Now that he was here for shore leave instead of on duty he had a chance to really take in some of the sights. He marveled at the sheer number of beings around him, more species than he'd ever seen assembled in one place, and wondered which ones were up to no good. As soon as the thought occurred to him he shook his head as if to dislodge it from his mind. He was here to relax, and maybe grab something to eat. On a station this large it was even possible he'd be able to track down the one thing that had eluded him since he left New Jersey - a really good cheese steak. His eyes scanned the countless shops, booths and kiosks that stretched from one side of the enormous place to the other and gave a contented sigh. It was time to celebrate the previous day's job well done. Nothing was going to get him down. :: Jordan: Cooper! :: Every muscle in Tad's body clenched at the familiar voice. He squeezed his eyes shut as if the woman would disappear if he did it hard enough. In truth he knew Jordan wouldn't leave until she'd said her piece, so he decided to get it over with quick, like tearing off a bandage. He forced himself to relax and slowly turned. He was greeted by the expected sight of the woman combining a standard Starfleet security uniform with a ten-gallon hat, cowboy boots and her unique star-shaped combadge. When he spoke, he did his best to not sound like he'd rather be anywhere else. :: Cooper: What can I do for you, Deputy? Jordan: A word. Cooper: oO Here we go. Oo Certainly. Jordan: I hear you helped apprehend some suspected terrorists recently. Cooper: That's right. Not just me though, I had some backup. Jordan: It was, what, a 10-28? Cooper: ::A look of surprise crossed his face.:: You know police codes? Jordan: I'm in law enforcement, right? :: Technically all security personnel were in law enforcement, but the only other Starfleet officer he'd met so far who knew police codes was Captain Rajel. And she only knew because one of her symbiont's past hosts was a police officer. :: Cooper: How did you know I was a cop? ::Even through her mirrored shades it was obvious Jordan rolled her eyes. :: Jordan: Please. :: Tad grimaced at the thought of being so transparent. Then again, Jordan had already proven to not be your average security officer. :: Cooper: It turned out to be a 10-28, but I was responding to a 10-26 from some of our engineers. :: Jordan crossed her arms and raised her chin, looking at Tad down her nose. :: Jordan: Ah hah. And I suppose it was a 10-22? Cooper: Well, no, more like a 10-83. Jordan: I see. I was wondering, because you didn't announce your presence to any of my staff. Cooper: I was under the impression that the base requested assistance from our ship. Jordan: We requested engineering help, not security. Cooper: ::defensively:: Now wait a minute. The first time I came on board you told me I could operate here so long as I didn't interfere with base operations. Jordan: Exactly. The first time. That don't give you permission to just come to South End whenever you want and play patrolman. Not on my station and not on my watch. Do I make myself clear? :: A bead of sweat rolled down Tad's temple and he straightened his back involuntarily, as if standing at attention. He hadn't had s dressing down like that since the academy. :: Cooper: Affirmative. :: Seemingly satisfied by his answer, Jordan once again relaxed her stance and stuffed her hands into her uniform pockets. :: Jordan: Good. ::sigh:: Look, you did good work. Truth is my team was stretched thin during the talks, and I do appreciate the help. Just make sure you give me a 10-1 next time or I'll 10-86 you so fast your head'll spin. :: Tad grinned despite himself. :: Cooper: 10-4. And thank you, Deputy. Jordan: Cooper! One more thing. :: Tad had turned to leave, but Jordan's call made him turn back. :: Jordan: 1800. Cooper: ::His brow creased.:: I'm...actually not familiar with that code. Jordan: It's not a code. It's when I get off duty. :: Tad's eyebrows shot upward as if trying to escape his face. :: Cooper: Ah, I'm not sure.... Jordan: Because at 1900 you're takin' me to the Klingon barbecue place on level 7. Cooper: Ah...Klingon...barbecue? Jordan: ::She shrugged without removing her hands from her pockets.:: It ain't cow, but it's close. Besides, it's the least you could do. Cooper: I, ah.... Jordan: ::turning serious again:: The very. Least. :: Tad knew there was no talking his way out of it, so he bit the bullet and gave in. :: Cooper: ::nodding:: 1900, understood. Jordan: Good. ::She spun on her heel and strode away across the promenade, causing the small crowd of curious onlookers that had gathered around them to suddenly remember they had somewhere else to be. She called out once more over her shoulder as she left.:: Don't be late! :: Tad let his head loll back, gazing open-mouthed toward the ceiling, and wondered why he didn't just stay on the ship. :: (( OOC: List of police codes: http://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php/Tad_Cooper/Police_Codes )) PNPC Ensign Tad Cooper Security officer Simmed by Lieutenant JG Jerome Milsap Assistant Chief Medical Officer USS Constitution-B C239208JM01
  12. OMG i know. the "It said so in the manual" part killed me haha
  13. (( Deep Space 26, Level 4, Conference Room 1 )) :: Jalana turned and headed off to find the reptile again. Okay that was not really hard, he was really tall. She knew a couple of reptile species, and she could keep them apart if she cut them open and looked at their organs, but she had the slight suspicion that he wouldn't like that. Once her curiosity was peaked she wouldn't stop though. Jalana headed right for the mass of white fabric and as she stood in front of him, she realized that she really was too small. Either she'd have to look up so far that she'd fall on her butt or he had to bend forward and step on the ... tunic. Yes that was a good word. So Jalana did what Jalana did. She pulled up a chair and climbed on it, being above everyone else for the second time, but at about the same eye level as the reptile. She reached out and tapped his arm, chuckling to herself as she realized that she continued the circle. :: ::With a deep nod and a smile of respect, the fifty-three year old Ferentis turned, sauntering deeper into the party. As he observed officers and crew below him, he wondered if that had been right. If Starfleet was based on anything, it was truth. Truth to oneself, to one’s organization, in all matters, whether they were scientific, or historical, or personal. And though he subscribed to this idealistic… naive… charming… fragile view of the universe, he still told a white lie once in a blue moon. Come, now- what being had six stomachs? But in all seriousness… was he not in error? In his time before Starfleet, for all those years, lying had been a skill, and like all skills, it had required constant practice to maintain. Deep space was a dangerous place. If one didn’t know how to obscure the truth, it was unlikely one could survive. But that past was behind him. Wasn’t it?:: Rajel: Pardon me. ::Several things struck him at once. First and foremost, it wasn’t many people who could sneak up on him, even if he was brooding. Excellent hearing afforded him an advantage few species could match. And yet, the owner of this effeminate voice had managed to do just that.:: ::The second thing that struck him was how she sounded. Specifically, where the sound was coming from. Rather than emanating from somewhere below him, as most noises did, this (rather pleasant) anomaly of noise seemed to be entering his ear directly, almost as if the speaker were at his height level. Highly intrigued, he turned.:: ::To his abject astonishment, he didn’t need to bend down to see who had spoken to him. She- an exceptionally pretty young Trill with hair that would have made the sands of Vulcan look pale- stared into his eyes, instead of craning her neck upwards. This was something he almost never experienced outside the comfort of his home planet. Few other species could compare to the sheer size of Ferentis’ people, and this individual did not appear to be a member of any of those races.:: ::He cleared his throat, and his reply came out in a rich baritone.:: Ferentis: ::Taken aback, but hiding it with the practice and charm of an old gentleman.:: Yes? :: Oh that Bariton. Unless the women on their planet spoke that deep, she assumed it to be a he. :: Rajel: ::Jalana raised a hand and wiggled her fingers as she looked at him with a big smile.:: Hi! I'm Jalana and you are? Ferentis: oO Confused, that’s what I am. Oo ::What was the explanation? Had his spotted superior suffered a particularly egregious growth spurt while a child? Did her culture find value in exceptionally tall heels? Another miserable possibility crossed his mind. Had he begun to sink through the floor? Someone might have laughed at the mention of such a preposterous occurrence, until Ferentis gave them one of his rare, “Do not interfere in the affairs of Pahkwa’thanh, for thou art crunchy and go well with brie” looks.” Because it had happened. As far as he knew, the poor maintenance crew aboard the El Corazon had yet to totally smooth out the warped deck plating from Ferentis’ first steps aboard.:: ::But such a kind face deserved a genuine answer, regardless of intention or position. Ferentis: I am Ensign Ferentis, at your service. ::Bowing humbly.:: Rajel: Such a pleasure. ::She looked at the outfit he was wearing a little more up close now and leaned forward.:: Lovely embroidery. Who made it? ::She just had to bring up the embroidery. She couldn’t have let it go. Not that he was entirely embarrassed about it, but still.:: Ferentis: That would be me, ma’am. ::Taking on a more informal tone.:: What do you think? ::Wizened eyes glittering with contained mirth.:: Rajel: ::She raised her eyes to his.:: Really? A little improvement here and there, but good. ::She paused and blushed.:: I'm so sorry. One of my former hosts was a fashion designer, she liked to poke her head out every now and then. :: Pause :: Actually I wanted to meet you to find out which reptilian species you belong to... that was too direct, wasn't it? :: She smiled apologetic.:: ::Poor Jalana. Ferentis was certain that she meant no offense- the sincere apologies made that clear. But besides their fearsome appearances, and even fiercer appetites, the one thing Pakhwa’thanh were known for was their manners. Even when insulting someone- a rarity in their culture- it was done politely. He used every bit of willpower he had- quite a considerable force- to keep absolutely nothing from showing on his face. His surprise, his mild annoyance, his far more considerable amusement- nothing pierced that rock solid visage.:: Ferentis: oO You could always eat her. ::Pause.:: No, too predictable. Oo Ferentis: ::Smiling kindly.:: It’s quite alright. I am a Pahkwa’thanh, hailing from Dupwa’thuv, Deena Sector, Beta Quadrant. And if I might observe, you are a...Trill? Ferentis: oO Which still doesn’t explain… Oo ::The lizard glanced down, and only then did he realize that the captain was standing upon a chair. He wasn’t sinking, and she wasn’t insanely tall. Just resourceful and quite precocious, in his elderly opinion. He liked her.:: ::He’d put Jalana’s momentary spontaneity behind him. Obviously, she was a vivacious individual, one who took hold of life and apologized rather than ask permission. It was a rather unusual trait for the Pakhwa’thanh, but one that was not entirely unprecedented in his time in space. On Dupwa’thuv, such a mentality might make a person particularly ostracised from the public. He’d lived long enough to learn how to forgive and forget. Most things, at least.:: :: He smiled, or so Jalana thought. Reading reptilian faces was sometimes a challenge. She had been able to practice just a little on the Gorn features of Nugra before his passing. But she had never met one of Ferentis' kind. At least she thought so. :: :: These names tied a knot into her brain in the first moment. But as a doctor, she had heard a lot of difficult words and had memorized them. She'd just have to hear it a few times and she'd be fine. She was also quite sure that she'd never heard about that species and in her long life that was a pleasant surprise. .oO Meeting a new species - Check Oo. A bright smile spread from her lips to her sparkling green eyes. :: Rajel: That is correct. I am a Trill, hailing from Trill, Trill Sector, Alpha Quadrant. ::She just couldn't stop smiling, it was so exciting to meet new people, especially new species in their own Fleet. :: I would just _love_ to learn more about the Pahkwa..uh.. Ferentis: Pakha’thanh. ::He was used to people butchering his name, the name of his species, and the location of his planet. When he’d been younger it had been a cause for great annoyance. Nowadays, he simply accepted it with as much poise and grace as his elderly status afforded.:: Rajel: Yes, thank you Pahkwa'thanh. If you ever have some time and we are not at a party, maybe we can have a chat if you like. And if you want to know anything about Trills we can make an exchange. ::There was that perky grin again.:: What do you think? ::Never before had anyone of so lofty a rank been so...friendly to him. His Academy instructors saw him as another student at best, and a rather terrifying threat at worst. To see a captain of so distinguished a position and so kind a manner was exceptionally new to him. Her green eyes glittered like a thousand emerald gems in the Vulcan sun. Red hair, freckled features...by any standard she was beautiful.:: ::Had he not learned early in life to hide that which he did not want to make public, he would have jolted himself awfully. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. Had he been?...no. But had he? Could he? He was a reptile, for god’s sake! Never before had anything like that happened. Was his absence from his home causing him to feel like this? It had been decades since his return- perhaps this was simply a side effect.:: ::It wasn’t appropriate, by any stretch of the imagination. And he would not allow a simple imbalance of hormones to destroy what was fast becoming a tight friendship.:: Ferentis: I would enjoy that very much indeed. :: She couldn't help but bounce and clap in her hand before she blushed and reminded herself that she wasn't 12. She cleared her throat and put her hands behind her back. :: ::Her reaction could only be described as childish. But not in a bad or demeaning way. It was absolutely adorable to his half-century old eyes. It was something that he had not seen in years. A child’s laughing, cheerful, wondrous eyes. Not to say she was a child- by no means. But she had a life about her that he hadn’t been privy to for years. He cherished it.:: Rajel: Pardon me. What I meant was that I'm looking forward to it. ::She paused, remembering something else.:: Oh and if you are ever looking for a new garb, feel free to send me a holo image, I know two people who would love the challenge. ::He grinned his toothy grin.:: Ferentis: Nothing would please me more. ::Pause:: By chance, who are the people you speak of? Rajel: Well me for one, and Georgio. Our sentient emergency holographic hairdresser, but he also is a fashion diva with some great sewing and .oO What's the right word here? Oo. unique design skills. ::A sentient...holographic...hairdresser. Those words simply didn’t go together often, and Ferentis took a few moments to allow his large brain to chew through their meaning. What poor soul had been so devoid of duty so as to have time to put someone like that together?:: Ferentis: It sounds like there is a story in there somewhere. ::Suddenly, her attention was diverted away from Ferentis for just a brief moment. It was a moment he understood well. It was the sign that things were coming to an end.:: :: Jalana noticed that Maxwell walked away from the group, that was the sign that he'd disconnect the link between Conny and this place very soon. She gave him a quick nod and looked back to Ferentis. :: Rajel: I hate to cut this short, but it is time for me to leave. If you would excuse me, please? It was a real pleasure, Ferentis. ::Despite his happy smile, he felt a rather grievous pain inside. He knew it would be some time before he spoke to this most strange captain again.:: Ferentis: Believe me, captain- the pleasure was entirely mine. :: She grinned at him and with a slight bounce jumped off the chair. :: ::As he watched the excitable captain depart, he wondered what would become of him, he in the service of this idealistic little smattering of planets. The faintest stirring within him told him that the leathery old heart of his was beginning to stir again, despite his intention to keep it otherwise. If a part the heart dies, it’s best to leave it as is. That was his thought process, until now at least. One thing was clear; he would see her again, and he would always care about her.:: ::And he doubted he’d ever forgive her for that.:: ::Smiling a sad little smile to himself, he lumbered off. He needed another drink.:: ::Or twenty.:: ---- PNPC Ensign Ferentis Engineer USS El Corazon NCC 74220 as simmed by Lieutenant Randal Shayne Helmsman USS Atlantis NCC 74682 G239202RS0 & Captain Jalana Rajel Commanding Officer USS Constitution B Image Team Facilitator A238906JL0
  14. ((Traenor's Personal Quarters - USS Constitution)) ::Another sound from beyond the door. Muffled footprints, muffled noises. This was a new room, in a new place, and Barque needed to be alert. Turning his head to the side, he listened closely until the sound disappeared from his senses, then he relaxed from his primary role as defender of his human's domain and focused on his secondary role. Chew the toys.:: ::His human had left again, and again promised that when he returned they would go to the Real-Room. Of course, his human liked to bark in funny yips, and it came out as Arboretum. Barque thought his human would have an easier time calling it Real-Room, since that's what it really was. Real-Room had real grass to roll in, real dirt to dig in, real trees and bushes to mark. His human preferred the Not-Real-Room, and all the Not-Real things behind those heavy doors. The only benefit to the Not-Real-Room was the Not-Real birds and Not-Real squirrels and the Not-Real rabbits, which were really really fun to chase even if they were Not-Real. His human had a funny yip for the Not-Real-Room too, a weird howl that sounded like Holodeck.:: ::Barque vaguely remembered when he was but a pup, there was something like the Not-Real-Room but had all the Real things like the Real-Room did. Real grass to chew, Real water to splash in, Real mice to sniff out. Ever since he had joined his human, he had lived in these metal rooms that were all the same but were not. The humans and not-humans, of which many liked to pet him and skritch his ears, were different in these metal rooms. His human called it Transfer To A New Ship. They had done this a couple times now, and Barque kept hoping they would Transfer To A New Ship with endless Real-Rooms like when he was a pup, but they hadn't yet. It didn't matter, his human needed him to defend his domain and that made Barque very happy.:: ::Barque jumped back up on the couch and looked out the window. He liked looking out the window, even thought it was night. Again. Every Transfer To A New Ship they lived in always was night, but that didn't matter. He liked watching the tiny sunbeams streak by. Although it would be nice to see a bird or a squirrel or a rabbit once in a while.:: ::Properly sated by the view, Barque hopped down from the couch and wandered over to the food bowl. He had gobbled down his breakfast as soon as his human had left, but it never hurt to check and make sure he didn't miss any. He hadn't. So he took a big draught of water from the adjacent bowl and moved off to the bedroom.:: ::His human liked to keep things untidy in here, and Barque appreciated it. He was certain his human did so just so Barque could amuse himself, snuffling through piles of clothes and rolling on his human's bed. Rolling on the sheets was almost as nice as rolling on grass. He longingly spied the chew toys that his human wore on his paws, which were called Boots. He was not allowed to chew on those chew toys, would be in big trouble if he did, which was a shame because Boots were so tasty. Instead, he found his bone and alternated between viciously chewing it and napping in the master's bed.:: ::Now, Barque found himself sitting before the door, waiting patiently and tail thumping against the floor. His instincts knew when his human would come home; he didn't understand how he knew, but he just did. He heard the sounds and sniffed the smells of other humans and not-humans passing beyond the door, but other than being alert against intruders, he was calm. He knew they were not his human, so he didn't jump up or yip or whine at their passing presence. He would save that adoration for his human. Or anyone else who would pat him or skritch his ears. Or give him a Cookie. Cookie was one of his favorite words, second only to Ball. Perhaps his human would bring him Cookies today. With this thought, the steady staccato of a thumping tail filled the Traenor residence again as its brave protector waited for his human to come home.:: Barque the Beagle Erstwhile Protector and Shredder of Shoes ~as simmed by~ LtCmdr Maxwell Traenor Scientific Specialist, USS Constitution
  15. I've just discovered these updated guidelines for Star Trek Fan Films and thought you guys might be interested to read them. http://www.startrek.com/fan-films
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