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Brell

Captains Council observer
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Brell last won the day on December 23 2016

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About Brell

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    Bolians the other Blue aliens.
  • Birthday 08/09/1985

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    Andaris Task Force
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    First Officer
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    Training Team Member

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    Tucson, Arizona, USA
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    Male

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    Brell2334

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  1. ((On a Royal Navy Ship, Somewhere on the Atlantic)) ::The black and yellow walls of the holodeck disappeared, replaced with large wooden sailing ship, in the same design as a 19th century English naval ship. It had a deck comprised of great wooden planks, with three huge masts protruding from it. Each of the masts was furnished with great off white sails. Above were clear blue skies and below dark blue water. The ship was apparently sailing upon the high seas, gently rolling with the waves:: :: The two starfleet officers now stood at the stern of the ship, with a sweeping view of the ship in front of them, men busying themselves with work. Stood just in front of them, was a grimy looking human male, with ill fitting, ragged clothes and a cloth over his head, currently steering the ship via a giant wheel:: Thoran: Lieutenant Pond, welcome to Her Majesty’s Ship Destiny. She is an old Earth sailing ship, from the 19th Century. :: He tapped the wooden rail nearby.:: She is a thing of beauty. Thoran: ::He turned to face Isabel:: I’d imagine this is not quite what you expected? Pond: ::smiling awkwardly:: Indeed. I usually prefer something better protected against… ::feeling chilly:: the wind, for example. I feel like I’m a little… wrongly dressed? Thoran: Quite. Perhaps, you may wish to change into something more suitable? Pond: That sounds like a good idea. Those clouds over there do not look very friendly. ::As someone mainly concerned with space, the interpretation of clouds and winds was of course far beyond Isabel’s grasp of understanding. However, she had lived on a planet, and whenever dark clouds like these appeared over the sea, it had been time to search for a sturdy shelter.:: Pond: What has the program to offer? Thoran: Well let me see. :: He thought for a minute about the different options he could present to Isabel, which thankfully were not a lot.:: I think you would be best suited with an outfit similar to mine, as i’m not quite sure you’re ready for the lower decks. ::He smiled at the thought of the young trill trying to run the guns amongst the beast like men of the crew:: Computer, create outfit 19th century Royal Navy officer’s attire. ::The integrated replicator circuits of the holodeck produced an uniform quite similar to the one Ensign Thoran was already wearing. However, it was evident from afar that his was of a major quality. The signs of wear alone made it blend into the scenery, very different to the brand new suit in Isabel’s hands.:: Pond: I think I’ll go downstairs to change. Thoran: Very well Isabel, I shall see you shortly. :: As Isabel disappeared, Thoran closed his eyes, feeling the wind upon his face and took a few deep breaths, taking in the smell of gunpowder, wood, grease mixed with the salty scent of the ocean.:: ::Without further ado, the Trill slid down the wooden stairs as she would have done on a Starship. Unfortunately, she wasn’t very much experienced with wood and caught pinpoint an enormous splinter. It was of course not a big problem for a physician, but it still hurt a bit.:: ::On the lower deck, or however it was called in sailor terms, the air was sticky and one had to search for a bit of unused oxygen. No wonder everyone who was able to spent the day on the deck. Like that, she easily found a hidden corner where she could change. She hid her jogging clothes inside a hammock, hoping they would be left behind once they would terminate the program.:: ::Now adequately dressed, she had a look around on this deck. It was a very cluttered sight and she questioned the ability of anyone finding anything in this mess. The only neat thing around were accurately lined up cannons. They all had enough space around to manipulate them and ammunition and powder was ready at hand. This clearly seemed to be a warship.:: ::Continuing further towards the bow, Isabel had to climb over barrels of supplies, hammocks hanging criss and cross and seabags full of stinking clothes. She was indeed relieved when she reached the exit at the other end of the deck. The Trill took the ladder back to the top. With only her head sticking out of the bulkhead and after her eyes had once again adjusted to the light, she looked at the boots of another very heavy sailor.:: Sailor 1: Aye Matey what do we have ‘ere? ::Rather ruggedy, he grabbed her at the collar and pulled her out in one go. Isabel was too astonished about the strength of the character to do anything about it.:: Sailor 1: Mates, look at that, a gal in officer’s attire. ::Within seconds, Isabel was surrounded by a flock of more or less angry looking sailors. She tried to strike an impressive, authority-inducing pose, but it had no effect at all.:: Sailor 2: A cutty indeed. What do we do, lads? Sailor 3: That’s not good… Not good at all. Everyone knows. A shrew on board ain’t no good. ::The sailors drew the circle closer and Isabel learned very quickly how walking the planks must feel like. Actually, she was surprised that no-one handed a wooden board to the mob leader, just to make the feeling a tad more real.:: Pond: Uhm, Thoran, a little help here? ::She couldn’t see the Ensign from her standpoint. Her 5 foot 2 was barely chest high for most of these bears in front of her. Quite agile, she jumped on top of the rail and barely got a hold of a piece of rope, preventing her continuing leap into the ocean. From what she had seen, Thoran’s dress surely made him something quite high ranking on this vessel, he could bring some sense into these men. She hoped.:: :: Thoran had been discussing the ship's supplies with the Purser when he noticed a small gathering at the far end of the ship. He called to the ship’s Master, a heavy set man, with a big thick beard who went by the name Hal.:: Thoran: Hal, sort that ramble out, we have not got time for this nonsense. :: At that moment a figure broke from the gathering, and via a rope leapt into the ocean. Cries of man overboard resounded around the ship. He could not be certain, but that figure who had gone into the sea, looked a lot like Isabel.:: ::”Leaping” Was not exactly how Isabel would have described it. Maybe she would have considered it in more tropical waters, like the ones of her hometown, but this ocean looked dark and scary and very cold.:: ::And unfortunately quite wavy. A specially devious one just had hit the ship from eleven o’clock, sending a gentle but rather unexpected ramble through the ship’s body, making her lose her footing and plunge backwards towards the ocean.:: ::She couldn’t exactly see when the surface was arriving, but it had to come at any moment. The top of the ship grew smaller and smaller, while more and more faces appeared at the edge. Isabel was definitely sure most of them looked amused.:: ::Then the Trill hit the water and it was as cold and uninviting as she had expected it to be. Her extensive clothing instantly dragged her down, but luckily, she had teared down the rope she initially hung onto. Two swimming strokes were enough to once again reach it and she was able to pull herself back to the top. For most of the time, anyway.:: :: Thoran headed to the source of the commotion, where some of the crew were now grabbing poles and holding them over the side for the seaman to grab hold of. As he reached the side, he saw the figure of a very angry Isabel bopping up and down in the water:: Thoran: We’ll have you out in a moment. :: He turned to the Master:: Find out what has happened here, I want a full report, including any charges:: Master Hal:: Aye cap’n. Right you ‘orrible lot, get back t’it or i’ll ‘ave you’ll up on charge. :: He turned to one of the figures stood in the centre of the group:: You there, get yerself below deck NOW, I wanna ‘ave a word wiv ya. ::Isabel then was quickly brought back on board. Everything was cold and she felt quite miserable and considerably angry. The Trill wished she had not changed clothes, the water-soaked uniform must weigh a couple of tons.:: Thoran: :: He passed Isabel a woolen blanket:: Glad to have you back with us. Come, let’s get you dried off and some new clothes. :: He gestured towards his cabin at the far end of the ship:: After you. :: The crew made way for them, giving them a salute as they passed. As they approached the door to the cabin, the marine sentry stood to attention and opened the door. Once inside Thoran gestured to a screen on the right hand side of the room :: You may get changed behind there. :: He turned to a young boy stood in the corner of the room.:: Yeoman, please arrange for some tea.:: Pond: ::grumbling:: Maybe with something extra in it, that would be fine... :: The boy returned carrying a tray with a teapot and two cups, placing it down on a large oak deck in the centre of the room and proceeded to pour two cups. Thoran sat down in one of the chairs adjacent to the table, picking up one of the cups and taking a sip. Isabel emerged from behind the screen, slightly drier than when he had seen her last.:: Thoran: Please, take a seat and have some tea. :: He gestured to the seat opposite his:: And perhaps, you could tell me what happened? Pond: ::calmly upset:: Well, your men were not exactly pleased to see me on board. I wanted to jump unto the fence-thing around the deck to make myself heard, but you see, it didn’t turn out quite as I’ve thought it would. Pond: oO I should have picked up gymnastics instead of dancing. Some somersaults on the beam and nothing could have brought me off that reiling. Oo Thoran: :: Trying to stifle a laugh:: I am sorry about that. The men do tend to get a little :: he paused for a moment, trying to think of the best way to phrase this:: excited when they see a female, especially one in a uniform. Pond: ::seriously not serious:: I feel like… You know, what do sailors do? Keelhaul someone? Thoran: Well I will admit you do slightly resemble someone who has been keelhauled, although you are a lot less ragged than they would be. :: A small smile spread across his face:: it doesn’t seem like we’re getting off to a good start here. If I may ask, what do you prefer I call you? Pond: ::sighing:: I guess we’re past Lieutenant Pond by now. You can call me Isabel when off duty. Thoran: Well it is a pleasure to meet you Isabel. Care to indulge in a spot of pirate hunting? ::Pirate hunting sounded much more violent than the peaceful run through the forest. However, Isabel rarely Pond: I don’t know, I might have seen enough naval daily business. Do you think you can make these characters not throwing me over board a second time or do we have to temporarily change the program before that? :: Thoran leant forward and took another sip of tea. It had been one of things he had missed since leaving his homeworld, real home-brewed tea. It was not often his father was without a cup.:: Thoran: Whilst I cannot guarantee they will not throw you overboard, they can be a lively lot after all, you have my assure the matter has been dealt with. :: Thoran stood up, walking over to a sizeable desk at the rear of the cabin, covered with yellowed parchments. He picked the top one, unfurled and read it, before placing it back down:: Thoran: Now, there have been rumours of pirates attacking merchant ships just north of our current position. Our orders are to find and apprehend them. It should make a good prize for the crew. :: He turned to face Isabel:: Tell me, do you know anything about sailing or warfare? ::Isabel had almost interrupted him with a remark about better going south, as there it is supposedly warmer as in the north. But then she realised that this wasn’t a shuttle and they couldn’t possibly sail far enough within the remaining half hour or so to have thie making a difference.:: Pond: ::shrugging:: I know in which direction the ship’s supposed to go. ::pointing hesitantly:: Thoran: :: He smiled to himself. She at least knew something, more than most fresh faces on board did.:: That is correct. I will warn you, although this is a holo program, it can get quite um messy. Especially when it comes to the fight.:: :: The pair were interrupted by a knock on the door. Thoran called them in. It was young boy, no older than fifteen, with ill fitting clothes and holding a cap in his hand:: Boy: Beg ya pardon Cap’n, ships bin sighted windward offa starboard. Pond: oO Uhoh, Captain, already… Quite ambitious, this young man… Oo :: He thanked and dismissed the boy. He turned to face Isabel with a large grin on his face:: Thoran: Well, it seems we may not have to wait long. Care to join me on the deck? ::The doctors hopes that they would calmly cruise through the water on an unsuccessful search were therefore eliminated. Honestly, that had been to be expected, after all it is a programm designed to entertain and not to bore someone into a coma. As this was all that it was, a program, Isabel decided that if she’s here already, she could also let some of her anger about her own incompetence out on these virtual bad guys.:: Pond: Sure, let’s kick some pirate’s butt… Thoran: Excellent! I like your spirit. After you Miss Isabel. :: The pair left the cabin and headed up to the main deck. The crew was already assembled and waiting for the Captain’s orders. The Trill met some rather strange looks from the crew, she prefered to not know what had happened up here while she was drying off under deck. However, her gaze was soon directed to the horizon, hoping to spot the enemy ship. Isabel was not entirely sure if she was looking at the right spot, even though she knew where starboard was. Still being unsuccessful in her attempts, she looked back to Thoran, expecting some sort of rousing battle speech.:: :: Thoran took the telescope the sailing master handed him and looked in the direction the man was pointing. It seemed they had found their prey and Thoran was looking forward to playing this out with Isabel.:: Thoran: :: He passed the telescope to Isabel:: Just over there, on the horizon. She’s smaller than us, so she will be faster but we have the wind gauge. :: Isabel nodded knowingly, without knowing what that means. He turned to face the crew who had been assembled on the deck.:: Right men, the time is upon us. They have raided several of the King’s ships and we cannot let this continue. As I look upon you, I know you will each do your duty and you are as eager as I to get into the action. If we can take the ship undamaged, she will make a mighty prize.. Now, every man to his station and be quick about it. _______________________________ Ensign Jarred Thoran Security And Tactical Officer Andaris Task Force, USS Blackwell NCC-58999 A239405JT0 And Lt Isabel Pond Medical Officer USS Atlantis D239212IP0
  2. ((Primary Sickbay - Deck 18, USS Blackwell)) G’Renn: Alright crewman, what’s missing? Lee: That crate of fresh medical kits that was brought up some storage earlier today. ::While cleaning up after the mass treatment of plague victims back at Debin VII, Anath had arranged for a crate of supplies no longer needed to be moved down to one of the cargo bays.Unfortunately, another crate just like it of fresh medical kits had been set down next to it at some point in the meantime. Now, the cargo that had just been brought up to sickbay was gone again. It was only a minor irritant, but it was the straw that broke the camel’s back so to speak.:: G’Renn: Computer, who moved the cargo container from Sickbay storage? ::Anath looked at the name that appeared and scowled. As irritated as she had been with all the occurrences of bad luck and inconveniences thus far, no person could really be said to be at fault for causing them. Now she had a name that she could point at as a definitive cause of her stress. The officer likely didn’t deserve any scorn of anger for just trying to be helpful, but he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.:: G’Renn: Computer, locate Ensign Ferentis Computer: Ensign Ferentis is in Cargo Bay 5. G’Renn: Thank you. Don’t worry crewman, I’ll go get those supplies back. ::She stormed out of sickbay towards the nearest turbolift. She was going to get her stuff back.:: ((Timeskip- Arrival in the cargo bay)) ((Cargo Bay 5 - Deck 15, USS Blackwell)) ::The containers he was attempting to move were far too heavy for the average humanoid. Even so, the tractor loader sat unused in one corner of the bay. Ferentis wasn’t above showing off every once in awhile, but this time, utilizing his raw muscle was more therapeutic than entertaining. His normally focused mind broiled with doubts and concerns, a rarity for him. It had been weeks since he’d been banned from his home, and though there had been no news or contact from Dupwa’thuv besides the norm, he had to assume that everything was still relatively status quo. Still, he could see the storm clouds brewing. It was only a matter of time before the status quo was nothing but a memory- one lost in the chaos only a self-destructing people could provide.:: ::He still didn’t know what his family was planning. Pakhwa’thanh were polite to a fault, but there were also inquisitive, and would pursue a question relentlessly. Banishing a member of their own species was legal, but exceedingly rare. To learn that someone with such a noble lineage had been officially cast from his world permanently would raise eyebrows if the fact ever became known, and then the questions would begin. His family was quite high in status- high enough so that a few whispers in the right ears, combined with such an honored reputation and respectable status, would make the banishing possible. Still, there were so many unanswered questions. And though he’d been expecting something like this for years, now that it had happened, everything suddenly became agonizingly real.:: ::A most pleasant thought then occurred to him. Maybe it was possible that his family wasn’t planning anything. That stopped him dead. He placed the cargo container down and pondered, claws gently caressing his leathery face. Perhaps this wasn’t the first step in a brutal and pivotal political upset or coup. Maybe this was the equivalent of cleaning house. It had been accepted for decades that he was effectively banished from Dupwa’thuv, by his family, if no one else- perhaps this was just the official notification. His heart buoyed momentarily, before remembering why he’d left home in the first place. He’d like to believe that nothing was happening. But he’d spent too long in space, and worrying about his clan and species, to grasp at comforting falsehoods.:: G’Renn: Ensign Ferentis! ::He grunted as he lowered the crate, trying not to show his surprise. He was exceptionally polite, and so calm, it was (sometimes) easy to forget he was, in fact, a nine-foot dinosaur. Still, it didn’t mean that he was immune to such feelings, and the loud voice, picked up by his sensitive hearing, and combined with the acoustic attributes of the cargo bay, scared him half to death.:: ::His eyes turned toward the very, very angry Klingon woman marching toward him. Whatever it was she was furious about, he had to admire her. Most people stopped shouting at him when they saw the length of his teeth. This individual apparently had no such fear.:: G’Renn: I would like my crate of medical supplies back. You moved the wrong crate! ::So young. So full of fire! She couldn’t have been more than, what? Twenty-five? Twenty-six? A mere child, compared to his fifty-three years. He couldn’t help but find it amusing that she was telling him off.:: ::But what about this crate business? Was it possible? Yes. Unusual, though. He’d always been known to be neat, precise, and punctual. Such mistakes were incredibly rare. Maybe his emotional baggage was impacting his work more than he’d realized.:: ::However, any attempt at defense, explanation or apology seemed futile at this juncture. The Klingon ensign was far from done lambasting him. This was not a problem. He listened attentively, looking on with curiosity as she progressively dismantled his character.:: G’Renn: Perhaps if you had bothered to check with someone, we wouldn’t have to be having this conversation! But no, you just assumed you had the right crate and just went about on your merry way. So now instead of getting some rest after a fourteen hour work day, I get to sort out your mistake! ::Ah. And now they had reached the root of the problem. It wasn’t his minor error- it was the fact that she was expected to fix it. He could absolutely understand her rage, and did not begrudge her at all. Still, such a...violent breach of etiquette was both entertaining and fascinating. He’d never been privy to such displays back home- emotional outbursts, especially the hostile kind, were all but unheard of.:: G’Renn: Well, if you’re just going to stand there, I’ll just move the crate myself! ((Cargo Bay 5 - Deck 15, USS Blackwell)) ::Every person was different, and if he had thought that performing a certain action would have appeased her more than standing there and listening, he probably would have done it. Then again, he was fairly confident that this poor, overworked individual was reaching the zenith of her explosive decompression. He doubted he could say anything to calm her now.:: ::Anath didn’t remember what piece of equipment she had ordered to be sent back down to the cargo bay, the specifics lost in the busy flow of work in sickbay. However, experimentally testing the weight of the container proved one thing. Whatever was inside was heavy, even for Anath with her above-average Vulcan strength. She tried to brush it off as just a casual inspection of the crate before walking over towards one of the anti-grav units. She paused and looked back at Ferentis, part of her still very unhappy with the engineer. She couldn’t help it, and impulsively opened her mouth once more.:: G’Renn: Or, if you wanted, you could say something like “I’m so sorry for the mix-up. Here, let me help!” ::Of course, were he convinced that using his bountiful social grace would alleviate the situation (and the ensign’s apoplectic state), he would have happily apologized, offered to fix the mistake through any means necessary, and suggested that he pay for his mistake by taking on one of her duty shifts. Such was the Pahkwa’thanh tendency to over exaggerate. But in recent years, he’d begun to realize something he never thought would ever occur to him.:: ::”Polite” was not necessarily “kind”.:: ::Everyone needed to explode once in awhile- even him, though no one would ever see it and live to speak of it. Perhaps what this ensign needed was a punching bag. And he was simply overjoyed to take on that responsibility.:: ::She dropped the anti-grav and started pacing back and forth. She needed to put her anger in check before she said something she might regret. Well, that line had been crossed already, but now she could still walk away and apologize once she managed to get a handle on her anger once again. If only she could know when to leave well-enough alone. This engineer wasn’t even saying anything, yet she kept on fuming! One could only yell for so long about nothing:: G’Renn: Well, do you have anything to say! Anything? ::Ferentis stayed perfectly silent. A slow blink was his only response.:: G’Renn: ::With increased irritation at his silence:: You can talk, can’t you? Ferentis: oO Not with you carrying on like that. Oo ::It was merely an observation, one that held no malice or anger.:: G’Renn: You useless petaQ! ::Ooh! New curse words! Fun! Ferentis felt a bit like a hatchling let loose in a slaughterhouse. All these new experiences that he’d barely ever been treated to on Dupwa’thuv. It was absolutely delightful. Still he stayed perfectly motionless and mute.:: ::The most recent angry outburst to come out of her mouth stunned her, the realization of exactly what was coming out of her mouth hitting her with the same force as a punch to the jaw. Anath slipped into the reserve pool of untranslatable Klingon insults and curses in only two situations. First, if she was among rowdier Klingons like her cousins who considered those words a vital and important part of a person’s daily vocabulary and who wouldn’t react should she kindly request they leave her alone using more polite words. The second and far more common situation was when she’d truly and completely lost her cool and let her temper run away with her. It was a sign that all her usual manners and kind personality had been jettisoned out of the nearest airlock while her more direct and aggressive instincts took over. She turned and walked towards the door to give herself a moment to catch her breath:: G’Renn: I- I’ll be right back… ::Then, and only then, did Ferentis give a single, slow nod- permission, understanding, and friendly intent all wrapped into one simple motion.:: ::As she exited, Ferentis idly wondered if she would, in fact, return. Once someone had fully evacuated themselves of pent-up fury, oftentimes they would be too embarrassed to return, and/or apologize. No apology was necessary, but he again found himself curiously speculating on the (still nameless) ensign’s priorities.:: ::Sitting down on the floor, Anath focused on her breathing. Inhale, hold, exhale. It was a simple pattern, but one that didn’t normally require a great deal of thought. It had definitely felt good to clear all that pent-up range and aggravation on Ensign Ferentis, but it was also completely improper. First of all it was just plain rude! But there could be other consequences for that little outburst of her’s, as her counselor at Starfleet Academy could attest to. When she finally felt that she had gotten comfortable in her new home her temper ran away with her again. She needed to apologize, immediately!:: G’Renn: oO But what do I say… Oo ::It took her around five minutes to fully cool off and work out what her apology should be. At one point she stood up to walk back into the cargo bay without any particular conversation-starter in mind, but that strategy had not been particularly productive earlier. Instead, she paced back and forth, considering just what should be the first words out of her mouth when she went into the room to apologize. Finally, she had a basic apology in mind and stepped back inside the cargo bay.:: G’Renn: ::Meekly:: I’m sorry about that Ensign… it was, unbecoming of me to say those things. ::So she had returned. Impressive. Most Klingons he’d met held pride and honor as the most important things in their existence. To face such a wounding to either took courage, strength, and humility. All good things. And even if the ensign hadn’t displayed such a willingness to apologize, Ferentis was sure he would have taken a liking to her anyway.:: Ferentis: It is quite alright. ::He gave a far deeper nod of forgiveness. For some reason, he spoke almost as much with his head and neck as with his mouth.:: G’Renn: I realize we probably got off on the wrong foot, and was wondering if perhaps a round of drinks on me would help to get things back on track between us? ::She wouldn’t actually be drinking of course given her low tolerance for alcohol, but she had learned that the offer often worked as a very effective cure-all to social situations. As long as it might help patch up the bridge her more aggressive self had just tried to burn Anath was willing to extend the invitation. She might not walk away with physical injuries like her encounter with a giant lizard-man on her cadet cruise, but she certainly was suffering from a class four case of wounded pride.:: Ferentis: ::Smiling kindly, almost like a grandfather.:: I would be delighted. And, I am sorry about the mix-up. END Ensign Anath G'Renn Medical Officer, USS Blackwell - Andaris Task Force A239402AG0 AND Ensign Ferentis Engineer USS Blackwell NCC 58999 G239202RS0
  3. Theo Whittaker promoted to Commander

    Congratulations Commander! Well earned!
  4. New Academy Graduate

    Congratulations and Welcome to the fleet! Very glad to have you here writing with us!
  5. ((USS Blackwell, Deck 4, Brell’s Quarters)) ::The young Bolian sat down his bag as he entered his Uncle’s quarters. The bag though small contained everything he had brought with him to the Blackwell. Three grey and teal tailor made cadets uniforms; plus the one he was wearing, his academy workout clothes, the holoimages of him as a small boy with his mother and father, a small hand carved model of the the Daros’ll homestead resting against its undersea trench walls that had been made for him by his artistic cousin Viau, and a PADD that held his school work. Everything else he had in his dorm room in San Francisco he had sent back to Bolarus before he left to come to the expanse.:: ::He liked to think his parents would be proud of him being out here doing well in his studies and everything else, but they were little more than a memory to him now. The stories of the larger family unit the only thing keeping their faces, their lives and how much they loved him from fading. With his uncle Brell he did not have to wonder, he had been there in person or correspondence to offer his praise and reassurance usually with a bad pun or two along the way. It was why he had requested a room reassignment to live with him. They were Bolian after all and liked to live close to family even out in the depths of space.:: ::He also felt like his uncle needed to know he was here for him during this time of strife in the family. The news of the affair that Brell kept hidden from his spouses was a shock and made him feel for Lyldra and Hars. He felt his own trust slightly shaken but was looking at like a warning of possible side effects when getting close to an alien. Humans were often as repressed as the were enlightened. He knew there was a good deal of anger going toward the human involved though it was odd as they did understand things were complicated. He had never met Didrik Stennes but he had looked him up and didn't see what all the fuss was about other than he was mildly handsome. He felt worse for Lyldra as she had apparently been working side by side with the human while as this was going on.:: ::As much as he cared for his uncle Brell and his spouses, he was a more interested if his own love life would exist out here. He had a girlfriend at the academy but she was two years ahead and broke things off when she got her posting. That had been tough and he had not dated anyone since. Here many were older than he was but not by that much. There were Bolians here and on the starbase but he had always told himself he would never limit himself that way. He didn’t know if he felt that way still with everything that had happened but he had to hope most would be more open minded.:: ::He looked out of the window seeing the planetoid Debin VII below, he knew right now there were teams on the surface and on the freeworlds starship.:: Morin: oO And I’m up here. Oo ::He loved being here on Blackwell and serving his cadet cruise on such a start of the art medical starship. But he often was close, but far away from the action.:: Morin: oO There are a lot of people here that are not on the away missions. … They don’t have to miss out due to having to sit through a lecture though. Oo ::Almost on cue his PADD beeped alerting him he had five minutes to get to a terminal. He took the PADD silencing it and moved over to the desk where he could use the terminal and have workspace. He logged in and was connected to the Academy distance learning class link up. Starfleet had officers and cadets in subspace distance learning curriculums on many remote outposts and starships. Today he along with the other distance medical cadets would be hearing a lecture on variations of endocrine systems of Vulcanoid species by professor T’Vaili. He found her lectures to be enjoyable, which was odd as most of his other professors that had been Vulcans tended to near put him to sleep with their lack of inflections.:: ::The tone that signaled the lecture was about to begin sounded and he screen changed to the live feed from the professors location. Often he had to view these lectures after they occurred by right now there were no problems with the connection to DS26 and then from the starbase Academy facility T’vaili was at. Stylus in hand ready to take notes on his PADD the Vulcan took her podium and began speaking, the images accompanying her presentation displaying on the sides of his screen. He tried to get into the topic and keep his mind and eyes from drifting to looking out the window and thinking about the action he would one day get to be apart of.:: PNPC Cadet Morin, Medical Trainee, Uss Blackwell, NCC-58999 Simmed by, Commander Brell - First Officer Andaris Task Force, USS Blackwell NCC-58999 Academy Deputy Commandant E239109B10
  6. ((Debin-DeepDive5 - Rosette Shaft, Debin VII)) ::It was dark. The lights along the mine shafts had died due to the generators that had shut themselves down, this was due to everyone who had come down with this illness that there was hardly any staff working and those who soldiered on were alone and no one was able to reset them. Luckily for them, there was light at the end of the tunnel as the backup generators had kicked in, the only bad thing was, apart from being ill the generators were required to provide light, and a fresh oxygen supply in and extract all the toxic gases that would build up. Gone were the days where they would bring an exotic bird down and when it stopped singing and was still, it was time to evacuate to the surface.:: ::The Rosette Shaft was as it was named, a new grade of laser that mined the resources, gave a strange shape to the internal structure of the walls and once the supports were in place, from a bird's eye view it would give a rose shape to the caverns that had just been mined, so it was aptly named the Rosette Shaft. This was the shaft that Mihai Bratic and his three best friends were working in. A few hours before, the alarms had begun to blare as an announcement was broadcast warning that all personnel was to report to the medical areas for tests. By the time they received word over the noise of the lasers and other mining equipment the safety doors had closed and sealed them in, once the equipment had died down that's when they then noticed the broadcast. By that time Mihai and his friends were trapped. They attempted to call out for help however as there was a mass quarantine it would take some time to recover them, crews were stretched thin and they weren't the only crews stuck down the shafts. Mihai, Bajic, Petro and Sulim grew up together on the the planet Oscion, which was a planet with many islands and got into the labour of mining under the sea however the four wanted to use their skills and explore a part of the galaxy and the Tinaldax Heavy Industries company offered them that, pay was good, accommodation was great and the holidays granted were not to be sniffed at. They trained together and knew what dangers lay ahead but they did the job and loved it. Mihai made his way to a communication panel and pressed the emergency button these panels acted as a two-way comms with someone at the other end if someone was at the other end which they were but usually asleep. But for once they were awake.:: Mihai: Hello tower, this is Mihai, worker number 5398332, I’m trapped here with Bajic, Petro, and Sulim… we missed the broadcast what has happened, and how long till the doors open? Tower: This is Tower I read you loud and clear that illness that was going about has been ::Cough:: affecting more and more people it has gotten out of hand and the medical teams have declared that all employees are quarantined… ::Mihai, knew this was a standard procedure. The same would happen if there was a gas leak or a cave in teams would declare areas shut down and they would become inactive and special teams of dedicated workers would then go and aid in restoring said areas as quick as they could as not to cost Tinaldax Heavy Industries any losses in profits.:: Mihai: Ok so how long have we got to wait this out till we can get to the surface and join the quarantine… Tower: Sorry guys I don’t have an answer there is a lot of people who are confined to quarters the medical bays are over ::Cough:: flowing with sick people. But I’m on this end and will be here for ages I can’t leave until my relief comes… ::Mihai turned to his friends who were stood listening to the conversation. Bajic was around six foot four and four feet wide he was a powerhouse, he loved to do anything that involved heavy lifting, had begun to feel angry for such a large man he began to feel claustrophobic and pushed Mihai out of the way to get to the panel.:: Bajic: ::In an angry tone:: You listen here I want you to go and get a rescue team to get this hatch open and get us the hell out of here… Tower: I’m sorry I can’t… ::Cough:: There is no rescue team free at the moment, you guys are not the only ones trapped. :This was bad news, every shaft had provisions for each team from first aid kits, blankets water and a week's worth of rations that would be used in such emergencies. There are teams out there they just need to get to them.:: Tower: ::Cough:: News just in… There is a note made on your location and our own Navy is on its way... ::Cough:: Man this must be big especially if the navy is coming… ((Time skip 9 days)) ::The messages stopped and the hours became days. The four friends had sat and played games and shared stories of each other when growing up, laughing at the times they had shared, the rations and water were divided to last a little longer than the week they were intended as situations like this there was no time frame, but at least they would have two more days worth of food left.:: Bajic: ::Cough:: I don’t feel good… Mihai: Hold it together it won't be long how much ::Miahi was the only one who looked normal, his friend's flesh looked pale and almost as if they were malnourished, their hands began to show black fingertips and it almost looked as if their hands had been on a barbecue and extremely burnt. They had lumps that were protruding in their groin, armpits and neck, what they didn’t know was this was their lymph nodes, swollen from fighting off an infection. He looked to the other two who were sat slumped over Sulim was resting against Petro. They had not spoken for a few hours, Miahi, thought they were asleep and left them to it, it was the only time they weren't coughing or spluttering, rest seemed to be the best healer. He moved over slowly and began to study them, something was not right there was no movement at all coming from them. They weren't breathing. In a panic Miahi separated the pair and grabbed a wrist in each hand and checked for a pulse, his hands slide from their wrists due to their skin being all clammy, and parts of their flesh were beginning to rot. Not from they were dead but something was eating at them and decaying their flesh at an alarming rate. He grabbed a shock box and attached it to Petro’s chest and shocked him. The body jerked and stopped moving, no output on the reader, he shocked him again and again and again. A large burnt looking hand touched his shoulder.:: Bajic: I ::Nasty cough:: don’t think you're going to ::Painful cough:: help them, they are gone… Miahi: ::Tearful:: But they… we were… ::Bajic placed his finger to his own lip to silence him.:: Bajic: Come sit with me ::Extremely painful cough:: ::He winced as he sat upright. Miahi, squatted down next to him offering support the best he could to take some pressure from the sore parts that ached.:: Bajic: I feel we ain't going to make it but you're not coughing… Miahi: Your right.. I feel fine why am I not ill??? ::For nine days he had shared the same small confined space, air and company with his three best friends and he was the only one who wasn’t ill. He scratched his head and began to wonder. Bajic tried to drink some water and threw it up all down himself. He coughed violently and beckoned Miahi to come closer:: Bajic: We were there… when... Wamukota found a strange material… ::Cough:: The process… ::winces:: The process of finding a new material was to…. Miahi: Shut down the machines and get the teams in and scan also run tests and… What did he do???? ::Miahi had a bad feeling he already knew what Wamukota did. This was the one-time Wamukota stepped in as Miahi had a slight near miss with an old cavern collapse on him, he was pulled out and sent to the medical centre to be checked over. One day he was out of action and replaced where his team had made a discovery and he wasn’t there to be apart of their achievement.:: Bajic: He took a laser and decided to cut a small chunk off… ::Cough:: I don’t know what he did with it after… after… ::Bajic’s head slowly tilted forward.:: Miahi: Bajic… ::He shook the giants shoulders vigorously, nothing. Miahi knew instantly he was gone with his brothers who lay just a few meters away. He grabbed three blankets and lay the bodies flat on the ground and covered them individually. He was now alone.:: ((Time skip 2 more days)) ::It was dark. The lights along the mine shafts had died due to the backup generators that had shut themselves down. The air was getting thinner and he knew he was breathing in large amounts of carbon dioxide. He felt his breath begin to shorten, He wasn’t getting the adequate oxygen levels in his bloodstream, his blood had more co2 and he was starting to feel drowsy, very drowsy. He closed his eyes and thought of joining his Caraadian brothers in the fields of Azure where they shall be free with the great ones. He felt the ground around him rumble, a small breeze tickled his face.:: Miahi: oO This is what it must feel like to go to the great beyond… Oo ::Voices rang around his head, some he thought he knew and others that he didn’t understand. He felt as if he was a rag doll being tossed about and thought this must be his spirit moving and travelling to his final resting place, every often he would get a glimpse of a bright light then it would disappear.:: ::Two days ago Miahi was rescued by a rescue crew from the Navy. He had been brought to and placed into an Oxygen tank to reverse the effects of carbon dioxide in his system by getting a very high level of oxygen into the blood system in an attempt to get the inert gas out of the system.:: ::Miahi hadn’t joined his brother. After his recovery and a green light from the quarantine team. He now stood looking at the amass piles of bodies that he helped stack in rows on top of crates which were specifically designed to burn. He now stood in front of his three best friends that he called his brothers. A tear ran down his face as he was passed a lit torch. He leant in and began to touch the cloth that surrounded the bodies with the torch. Each part he touched shot up in flames. He stepped back.:: Miahi: Rest easy brothers…::Cough:: MSPNPC Mihai Bratic As simmed by Lieutenant Cook - Chief Medical Officer USS Blackwell NCC-58999 - Andaris Task Force D239206GC0
  7. ((Par’tha Expanse, Beta Quadrant, Kiros, Kirosian Continent)) ::The world came back in slow agonising waves the loud whine in his ears blocked all other sounds even his own voice, he thought it was his voice but try as he might no sound reached his ears. Then he heard it a tiny voice in the distance it had no words or at least none that he could recognise, but it was there and slowly growing louder as the whine began to dim allowing one of his senses to come back to the world. The voice grew and grew getting closer and closer, they had to get with him soon they were so close, he felt his strength starting to return but his throat hurt a raw burning pain that felt as if hands were clutched around his neck squeezing hard:: Achim: BBAAAOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAHHHHH….. ::The world snapped back into focus sharply as the whine in his ears stopped, the tiny voice that he’d heard was his, the raw throat from his own shouting. Pain lanced through his legs it felt like something was crushing them, his hooves could feel a breeze ?, where was he and why was it so hard to think. His right arm hurt as he moved it so he used his left to wipe his face, feeling wetness his light fur matted and slick, Achim looked at his hand..red with blood squeezing his eyes shut the sting of dust clung to them:: ::The dust was everywhere in his lungs and mouth, all over him and no matter where he turned his head the air was thick with it:: Achim oO Why, what happened … Oo ::He didn’t know how long he lay there thoughts refusing to form half sentences put together but then lost in the darkness that surrounded him, then word after word stayed joined becoming a thought that held a few more and a half sentence, still more and finally the sentence finally they held together:: ::It had been this morning or was it, how long he had been here he didn’t know but it had been earlier that he had visited his mother before heading to work, she had trouble walking these days, the lameness that set in among the elderly now sat in both hooves. She had been the head of their herd for many years after his father passed and went to the great pasture, so now it was his turn to look after her. Well not only his there was his sister as well so one went in the morning the other in the afternoon, where was he… oh yes in the morning after seeing to his mother he had headed to work in the office the same one he had been in for the past seven years. It wasn’t a major career but it provided enough, on this morning everything had gone had it had done of all those past days until … until that rumble started. It grew from such a tiny sound to the rear of an angry mountain as everything started moving shaking and swaying as if it had been drinking to many intoxicants the night before, glass panes shattered bricks crumbled and fell concrete fractured and exploded:: ::They had tried to get to the stairs but people scrambled in mass hysteria like a colony of ants; in these long moments that lasted an eternity the world had ceased to abide by the laws of gravity and physics. It was impossible to try to stand still because one second you would be standing there and then the next, chunks of floor would vanish or drop only to vanish moment’s afterword. What had been thought of as a solid floor was no longer but instead became precarious suspension bridge of terror without railings and surrounded a buildings whose structure was failing faster than you could see:: ::He thought he knew fear but at that moment nothing he had ever experienced came close to comprehending what he had felt then or now, from the window he had seen other buildings fail and fall taking all those within them plummeting to the ground. At the sight of not one but many more such buildings fall sent a wave of nausea through his stomach, each chamber spasming feeling the adrenaline pumping through him. Clouds of dust rose up as the city’s skyline crashed earthward, then it happened to them a massive lurch sent them all to the floor the lucky ones that is those that were unlucky disappeared through the holes already rent into the building:: ::Falling..a serene feeling with no pressure upon you if the realization of what was coming wasn’t there then sleep would have been easy, but the dawning outcome shouted loudly as dust rose up and obscured the view of the destruction out of the window. The office building mirroring the collapse and destruction of its neighbours, mirroring the fate of the city as fires erupted as lines that brought light and heat snapped and twisted like thing young shoots pulled out of the ground to eat:: ::Then he awoken he didn’t know how long ago parts of the building trapping him where he lay, unable to move unable to run to his mother’s house or his sisters place of work, no he had to get out to get to them they needed each other he had to. But the debris failed to move un-swayed as it was by ovine personal concerns or anguish, another cry escaped him as he lay there, within the heavy silence other voices joined in:: Achim oO I’m not alone more of us survived Oo ::The thought lifted his spirits if others survived being in this building surely there must be others, there had to be. When would they come, when would the government send help and what had caused it, he knew of earthquake he had seen explanations of them watched programs about them but here, they were nowhere near the region that experienced them:: Achim oO If it wasn’t the planet shaking then what could it be ? Oo ::There were always stories about the warlike A’kir but surely they couldn’t have done this, could they. Lending his voice to those that had survived Achim called for help, help he hoped would come soon, very soon:: MSNPC Achim Office worker Kiros lll As simmed by Ensign Kurt Logan – Security/Tactical Officer USS Atlantis, NCC-74682 E239203KL0
  8. ((Conference Room 1, Level 4 - Deep Space 26)) ::It has been a nice evening full of success for Isabel. She had met some new people, was recognised for her achievements during the last mission with two new ribbons added to her collection and was able to celebrate with others who had received promotions and other accolades.:: ::It appeared to her, that Starfleet parties are always over quite abruptly. It didn’t even need a red alert or other similar emergency. As soon as people start to leave, it was basically a rap for everyone. Right now, their guests from across the galaxy were leaving, from Isabel’s point of view simply by disappearing.:: ::This was bad news, as one of the more important items on her imaginary To-Do-List was not yet checked. She was quite relieved when she saw Commander Traenor still being there, obviously in the last moments of a talk with Commander Thomas.:: ::Isabel smiled, as this pair most certainly brought up some memories. It was the two officers who had led her mockup mission serving as part of the final exams of the Academy. Even though Thomas had been the Commanding Officer, she had always thought of Traenor being her examiner, since they had had to split the team during the mission, leaving her without much time with Thomas.:: ::This bond has been strengthened further on Turisan, where Traenor and Isabel had met again and shared an apartment for a couple of weeks. But unfortunately, he had been assigned to another position and their correspondence had dropped to literally nothing.:: ::Now, it was time to act, as it appeared as if he got ready to leave this place as well. Isabel made a quick exit out of her current conversation which could easily be continued as her counterpart was not disappearing to a place lightyears away.:: ::She rushed over and actually reached him in time. The quick sprint across the room had actually taken her breath a little.:: Pond: oO I have to start exercising again, instead of laying around with Randal on the couch all the time… Oo Pond: Commander! ::trying to find her breath again:: I’ve been trying to get a hold on you the whole evening. Do you have a couple of seconds for your old student? ::smiling:: ::Having mentally prepared to exit the simulation that placed him at the celebration on Deep Space 26, Maxwell Traenor had steeled himself to consider this the last time to see his former colleagues for a long time, if not forever. Therefore, he was quite surprised to be interrupted at the last second by someone he was very fond of, and had not gotten the chance to talk to before this very moment. The smile that erupted on his face was enough to give him facial cramps.:: Traenor: Isabel! None of this rank stuff! We’re former flatmates, after all. ::With all these previous thoughts, Isabel had a bit of a substitute-dad-reunion-vibe going on, which was quite confusing, as she had never actually felt their connection was that strong before.:: ::She somewhat awkwardly extended her arms for an invitation to a hug, until she realised that this surely wouldn’t be inappropriate, leaving her standing like a old scarecrow with arms that had already bent under the weight of the rain soaked coat.:: ::Maxwell saw the momentary hesitation in Isabel’s carriage and doubt on her face, and understood fully. A combination of time apart and rank, conflicting with familiarity and shared history, made for a perfectly reasonable moment of awkwardness between the pair. Whether it was proper or not, the scientist swept in and gave the doctor a warm hug. It was simply the mood he was in.:: Traenor: You look good, Isabel. Happy and content. Everything is going well, then? Pond: ::Happy about how the hug-attempt turned out:: Yes, very! A lot’s going on recently, with Randal and the new ships and everything… Traenor: This is an exciting time for you and all the rest. New ships, new region, new adventures. It’s a great time to have a party, and has been a great chance to catch up with everyone. ::There might have been a trace of wistfulness on his visage, but Maxwell buried it behind an authentic smile. He could live vicariously through the accomplishments of those like Isabel, whom he had seen rise through the ranks and become an accomplished officer and doctor.:: Pond: It is a great party, and really great that they were able to bring you all here! But I see, you’ve changed colours! Blue suits you well, I must say. ::smiling:: How come? Traenor: Thank you! I’ve worn blue for so long, that I just couldn’t give it up for long. ::conspiratorial wink:: Actually, I was given the chance of a lifetime to specialize in my scientific field. It’s not a step back so much as a step sideways. I’ll get the chance to wear a red collar again someday, but for now, I’m happy and healthy, and that’s what truly matters. ::Isabel was relieved to hear that. Seeing her previous mentor drop out of the command path against his will would have been really heartbreaking. Although not entirely sure if that was the entire truth, Isabel decided to stick to the version to not kill the all around good mood.:: Pond: That sounds great. I kind of got a new position as well, as it sometimes gets a bit boring in Sickbay… Whenever there’s a biological question to ask, I guess I am the girl for that on the Atlantis now. ::laughing:: Traenor: I see you and Randal managed to get posted on the same ship in the Task Force, then. I ran into him earlier, he seems pleased as punch to get to pilot an Intrepid class. ::There was an unspoken question that Maxwell left hanging. He knew that Starfleet was launching a dedicated medical ship as part of the Task Force, the USS Blackwell, and he didn’t know if missing out on the opportunity to serve on such a vessel was a bad thing or not. If he knew Isabel at all, though, he was certain that she’d be content to serve wherever she was needed, and if she had Randal at her side, then all the better. Those two were one of the most successful couples he’d ever had the privilege of witnessing.:: Pond: Yes, I am so happy about that! I am quite sure Renos has pulled some strings to make sure of that. I was a bit afraid that Randal felt like being dragged along with me, as the Blackwell surely is bigger than the Atlantis. But if you say he said that, I am quite relieved... Traenor: ::laughing:: Oh, I’d say he is. I mean, if you can put up with that haircut of his, then it must all be good. That probably makes him happy enough. Pond: ::jokingly:: Heey, don’t speak ill of my boyfriend! His hairdo is brilliant! ::The laughter was hearty at that last jab. Glad to be finally in a place where he could joke about and with his former colleagues, Maxwell felt a warmth and happiness that had been muted for a long time. Any doubts that he had about visiting the ceremony had fully dissipated, and he was left with a contentment over all that had transpired during this virtual visit.:: Pond: ::hesitant:: Can I let you in on a secret? Traenor: Of course. I’m all ears and zipped lips. ::It really was a spur-of-the-moment decision to tell, as she hadn’t had the chance to talk about that to anyone. But with him leaving quite soon, there literally was no chance for some ill-informed rumor to spread which could ruin the whole endeavour.:: Pond: I think it might be time for Randal and me to tackle the next step… ::It was such an open-ended statement that Maxwell was left with an unflattering blank expression as his mind reeled through several possibilities. Before his imagination could run roughshod over the truth, he prodded Isabel for more.:: Traenor: Such as… ::Once again, Isabel was hesitating. She hadn’t told anyone and she was not sure if it was a good idea to do so right now.:: Pond: I am thinking about a way to ask him to marry me. ::If the grin that prefaced their fortuitous meeting was grand, then his latest one was simply macabre. There was no way for Traenor to express how overjoyed he was with the state of these two young friends’ union. He couldn’t help himself, he swept Isabel up in another bear hug.:: Traenor: That is the best secret ever! I’m so proud of you, so proud for both of you! There better be an invitation for me that comes across subspace when the date is announced! Pond: ::laughing while being hugged:: Easy! I said I was thinking about it! ::getting out of the hug:: But seriously. I have read that on Earth it is custom for the man to do that and you somehow have to ask the parents? That all doesn’t make much sense to me, do you think that would be a problem? Traenor: Randal doesn’t strike me as an overly traditional type of guy, especially with a custom as archaic as all that. I honestly believe that regardless of who does the asking, he’ll be over the moon. Don’t worry about it one bit. Do what’s right for you and him, and let tradition be damned. Pond: ::playfully grimmly:: Yeah. Screw tradition, I always say that! ::Isabel burst out with laughter. It was good to hear from another individual from the same culture as Randal hailed from that her plans weren’t doomed from the beginning.:: Traenor: ::once his own laughter subsided:: Look, my chronometer is telling me that my time is about up. But this visit wouldn’t have been the same if I hadn’t had the chance to reconnect with you. Thank you so much for tracking me down like this. It made my evening to hear from you. Pond: That’s too bad. But I am glad that I’ve caught you. So, already a new mission on the screens? Traenor: Yep, that’s the life of Starfleet, isn’t it? New life and new civilizations, etcetera. The Marchlands, our new area of operations, has it’s fair share of all that, and I get to chart it all. Pond: Let me know if you make any exciting new discoveries. Send me your papers or something, I have always time to read while waiting for patients. ::Isabel realized that there hadn’t been a big farewell scene the last time they had parted. She wasn’t sure if she had missed it or if there simply wasn’t time for that. It made the whole deal just more awkward as it was already.:: Treanor: The same goes for you. I’m always game for following the career trajectory of my former students and friends, and it’s so much more tasteful when I don’t have to cyberstalk them to get the details. ::wink:: Pond: I guess I’ll let you disappear then. Fair winds and all that… ::quite sad:: ::Before they got too wistful again, Maxwell gave Isabel a friendly wave and moved as if to walk away. But before he did, he leaned in conspiratorially.:: Traenor: I’m serious about that invitation. I better get it! Destination weddings are always nice, say Casperia Prime? ::chuckling:: Pond: Send me a leaflet, I’ll consider it. ::smiling:: ::Maxwell Traenor stepped back once again and disappeared. There was no transporter blur that normally accompanied such an event, it actually made Isabel startle for a second. After he had vanished, Isabel stood there for a moment reminiscing.:: Pond: oO Alright, time to go make plans, then. Oo __________________________________ Lt Isabel Pond Medical Officer USS Atlantis D239212IP0 ~and~ LtCmdr Maxwell Traenor Scientific Specialist, USS Constitution =/\= Top Sims Contest Facilitator =/\= A239111MT0
  9. ((Somewhere on DS 26)) … ((Isabel had promised to not tell anyone where)) ::It had occurred to Isabel that one very rarely saw the ship one was serving on. Isabel very rarely had gotten the chance to fly on shuttles which would approach the Darwin. They would just beam in and out from surfaces or space stations.:: ::It was when she had received the transfer orders from Starfleet, she had felt the need for that visual image once again. Some extensive research, a couple of determined questionings and a few pulled strings later, she actually had found and gotten access to a window where she could see what she wanted to see.:: ::Right bellow her, there was the Darwin, docked to the space station. For the reason mentioned above, Isabel had never grown fond of its unshaped exterior, that space-wise rather inefficient ball at the front and the dark-grey-ish paint job. But still, she had had the most amazing time on that vessel, had seen things she had never dared to imagine and met people that were now more important to her than anyone she had known before.:: ::But a little more to the side, there was laying her new assignment, the USS Atlantis. It was a fitting metaphor for the future, with its sleek, streamlined shape and very light hull. Nitpicking the aesthetics as always, the Trill found some of the proportions of the ship quite odd, but it was definitely much closer to what she imagined, when she entered the Academy.:: ::Isabel would have never thought that a transfer order could cause that much shock. When the guy at the recruitment center had warned her about ever changing postings, she had looked at it as an advantage. She had been adventurous, alone, independent… Who cares for packing the suitcases every once in a while, right? A new assignment would mean new things to learn, new patients to treat, new species to discover, new people to meet…:: ::Never had she thought that her first thought would be to the future of a relationship. Correspondingly relieved she was when Randal had come to her with the same set of fears, only to discover that he had received the same orders as well.:: ::The Trill was quite sure that somebody had actually made sure that this would be the case. However, it was unclear for whom it would be actually beneficial, career-wise. Yes, as a physician, it would have been tempting to go to the hospital ship, where most of the crew were transferred to. But there, there were dozens of Doctors walking around, all of them at least as competent as herself. She actually (and it bothered her quite a bit) still did not know how the personal situation on the Atlantis would look like, but surely it would be a more intimate work climate at least. The first glimpses at the medical facilities at least were more than promising.:: ::For Randal, on the other hand, it could also really be both. To Isabel’s understanding, in a helmsman’s career, the rule was „the bigger, the better“. And the Blackwell was definitely bigger. At the same time, the mission profile of the Atlantis sounded much more interesting if you are interested in high speeds and reckless maneuvers. Isabel decided to bring that issue up on the next opportunity.:: ((USS Atlantis, Pond and Shayne’s Quarters, Later)) ::One of the many things Isabel had never thought recently was how stressful moving from a ship to another was. Of course there was only a little time window to do so, as both ships had to be ready to return to their respective missions as soon as possible. A couple of days were intended, at least to Isabel’s knowledge, but one had always to be ready for an emergency. Therefore, she had crammed everything into the standard Starfleet baggage set, even though the last time it had proven to be a mistake.:: ::But luckily, no fastener malfunction caused a surge of delicates spilling out on the hallway and there was also Security Officer standing ready to embarrass her even further. However, Isabel was even more convinced that the bags where bigger on the inside, when her things (magically, as she later insisted) could now literally been found everywhere in their shared quarters. It was only a question of time until Randal would ask her to restore her usual exterior apparent of orderliness that was vastly contradicted by the inside of every single drawer and cupboard. But for now, both of them where quite busy, so Isabel sincerely hoped that they could spend their first free time together since half an eternity for just a nice, quite dinner in their new home, without thinking about such nuisances.:: ::They had been talking for quite some time about this and that, when the Trill saw the opportunity to bring up what she had been thinking about at her observation spot on DS26.:: Pond: Do you think you got dragged along with me to the Atlantis, when you really could have made much more career progress somewhere else? ::It was kind of an out-of-the-blue question, but Isabel did not think quite much by it. By now, she was convinced that even if he would think so, it wouldn’t really matter, as the more important thing was happening right here, right now. So, she actually wasn’t worried or anything, just interested.:: Shayne: ::Laughing gently.:: Where did that come from? Isabel, if I had to forsake my career to be with you, I'd do it in a heartbeat. You come first, before Starfleet, before anything else. I love you. ::Before she could even react to that answer, the door chime rang.:: Pond: ::mildly annoyed:: Who could that be… Shayne: At a guess? Someone with the worst timing in the world. ::As it was probably best to not show her chaos to every possible visitor, she decided to actually have a look herself and not just order the door to open.:: Pond: Just keep sitting, I’ll have a look. ::She walked over to the door and used the button on the side to open it. When it actually had opened, she faced a glass tank with two glowing fish and a distorted blue face looking through it. Apparently the First Officer himself had come for a visit.:: Brell: I’ve brought you a house warming gift. Pond: ::excited, without any bit of annoyance left:: Commander! How lovely they are! And how thoughtful of you. Please, come inside and try to not look at my stuff lying around… ::… and a bit louder …:: Pond: Randal, we have a high guest! Shayne: Hello! ::Still out of range of Brell's vision.:: Brell: Hello! ::He called out to Shayne. Then looked back to pond at the door.:: How are you both doing this evening? Pond: We’re just having dinner, would you care to join? I would say there were enough for you, too, but I guess there’s always enough coming out of the replicator, am I right? ::smiling:: ::Isabel realised to late that this harmless reference to times when one would cook a pan full of a dish which later had to suffice for everyone at the table could easily be mistaken for an insult on the implied appetite of the Bolian. Fingers crossed he would not notice or interpret it correctly. Brell: ::He chuckled a bit at Ponds unending replicator joke.:: As long as the power flows so does the chow. Sure I’d enjoy joining the two of you for a bite. Shayne: I apologize for the mess, sir. We're still trying to set up. ::The human came into view.:: Please, have a seat. Always room for you here. Can I get you a drink? ________________ Lt Isabel Pond Medical Officer USS Darwin-A D239212IP0
  10. ((USS Darwin-A, Sickbay)) ::Ren had no conscious awareness that he had been moved to the special quarantine aboard Darwin, but some part of him sensed he was caught in a transporter beam, and knew he was placed gently in a reclining position, separated from the shoulder of a captain he didn’t know yet. The puddle of drool he’d left had soaked through the captain’s uniform enough to still be present when they awoke later, but for now, Ren contented himself to curl up where he was left, and continue dreaming, breathing the clean, quarantined Darwin air.:: ((Ren’s Dream)) ::Arnom, that mysteriously unsymbiotic symbiont who served as the master of ceremonies to Ren’s afterlife, or dream, or whatever this happened to be, had already sent Ren through two dreams. In one, he saw what life might have been like if Navin was still alive. In another more nightmarish landscape, he saw what his fate could be if he chose to try again with Sovak.:: ::Now, Ren was deposited into a third and final dream, wandering out of the bright white mist onto a familiar scene. He emerged from a turbolift onto a Starfleet bridge, not one he knew, not even a class of ship that was real, but the whole thing was so Starfleet. In his dream state, he knew he had been there before. This was his ship. This was his crew. This was the future.:: Tarch: Captain on the bridge! ::The crew rose and stood to face him, all smiles. Ren blushed.:: Rennyn: Who, me? Ravenscroft: Welcome back, Captain Ren! We’ve been waiting for you. ::Ren paused in his celebration, and started to look more closely at the faces around him. Why was his ship crewed by dead people? Barbara Tarch stood proudly as his first officer, in her old maroon uniform with the white collar, her jacket buttoned uncomfortably high. Emerson Ravenscroft’s bright auburn hair and warm smile looked impossibly real, but he couldn’t be true. He was long gone now. And Mort Opfer was there. What was a deck chief doing on the bridge? Especially one who was dead?:: Rennyn: Am I dead? Opfer: Not yet, guy. But don’t worry. You’re getting there. ::A warm shimmer of light captured Ren. This dream was taking a dark direction, but suddenly there was blue light, and Ren was taken from the place that was killing him, and deposited somewhere safe. In his dream state, it was a long, protracted process that he observed as an outsider.:: Ravenscroft: Where’d the captain go? Rennyn: You guys, I’m right here. Tarch: Fire all torpedoes! Opfer, scramble all the jets! Launch the megazords! Power up the noisy crickets! Dispatch the battlemech! Call in Mega Maid! Rennyn: Yeah, but, you guys, I’m right h-- Oh! ::He was suddenly not right there. He was, instead, on a planet, alone in a barren, rocky landscape. Alone except for a Gorn who was bearing down on him in his clumsy but powerful way.:: Rennyn: What the--? ::Ren grappled with the Gorn. The Trill’s shirt was artfully ripped open for some reason, exposing one shoulder and part of his chest, heaving now with the effort of fighting off the powerful enemy. The struggle was tough, but Ren felt exhilarated. He knew more now about what it meant to be in command of a starship, and just how much it took, but when he was a kid, this right here was exactly what he thought it would be like!:: ::Just when the powerful Gorn seemed to have the upper hand, something magical happened. Ren was aware of a purple cloud gathering above them. It swooped down and swarmed the Gorn’s face, confusing the lizard and causing him to release his death grip on Ren. The Gorn ran away.:: Rover: It is Rover! ::Ren looked up in delight at the sound of the squeaky, excitable little voice. His friend was back! Rover was his mischievous cloudy self again, and all was right in the universe!:: Rennyn: How is this possible? Rover: Spotted One, you healed Rover with the power of your love! Rennyn: That makes so much sense! ::With Rover finally at his side -- or, suspended somewhere over his shoulder -- again, Ren was finally at peace. He was living his best dream, and he could be exactly what he wanted to be. He could have it all! His shirt torn artfully open, and a proud look on his face, he struck a heroic pose with one leg up on an outcropping and his chest heaving broadly.:: ::It wasn’t about being a captain. It was wasn’t about commanding his own ship. If Ren was second officer for the rest of his life, he would be happy, as long as he got to be the one thing he’d always dreamed of being, lying in a field in Arnmere gazing up at the stars. As long as he got to pull up from the drudgery Starfleet sometimes became, and be just the thing the wanted to be…:: Rennyn: Space hero! ::Rover was part of it, but this was the real dream Arnom was showing him. To prove it, the dream kept on giving.:: ::A storm of troopers in white helmets thundered over the horizon, and only Ren could stop them.:: ::He shot his laser effortlessly, and hit everything he meant to. All the return fire missed.:: Rennyn: Pew! Pew! Pew! ::To the victor went the spoils, and Ren happily accepted a large delivery of pizzas.:: Rover: Rover wishes Rover had a stomach! ::Someone was rubbing Ren’s shoulders, and another was feeding him slices with pepperoni and mushroom. It was the hunky Orion bartender from Outpost Unity, and some kind of sultry cat man. Ren found himself purring.:: Rennyn: Space babes! How YOU doin’? ::A plate appeared in the air before him, and the cat man took it down with one paw. Ren’s eyes went wide in excitement.:: Rennyn: NACHOS! ::Rover was playing electric guitar riffs and the Orion had duplicated himself to massage Ren’s feet. Everything was awesome! Ren leaned back across the cat man’s lap and sighed in deep contentment. His was a charmed life with barely a problem in it. Even the rocky landscape had been replaced with a luxury resort, with lush greenery, no tourists, and bottle service to the hot tub.:: ::Then Ren’s head turned to the side, and his eyes opened slightly, and he almost choked on a pizza-nacho combo bite when he saw that cheap plastic gate again. It was just like the first one he’d stepped through, at Arnom’s insistence. He knew this meant his dreams were coming to an end. Just like the other dreams, he knew this life wasn’t quite right. But it sure did feel good while it lasted.:: ::Ren had been obedient to Arnom throughout this ordeal, following through each gate no matter how difficult it was. This time, the feeling of a warm coat of fur against his cheek and the offer of a blue margarita with a lot of ridiculous umbrellas in it made Ren reconsider. He called out towards the gate.:: Rennyn: Five more minutes, Arnom! Half an hour, tops! ::Ren turned back to the scene at hand, and was pleased to find there was now three of the Orion. This dream was going well.:: Rennyn: Hey Rover. Why don’t you go see if there’s some other kids to play with? ::He hated to chase the little cloud away so soon, but there were six muscular green arms holding slices of pizza, and to be honest, it wouldn’t be fair in front of someone who didn’t have a stomach or taste buds.:: ::The dream faded to PG. No one wanted to see Ren eat that much pizza.:: LtCmdr Ren Rennyn First Officer USS Blackwell, Andaris Task Force A239102RR0
  11. ((USS Darwin / USS Gorkon Subspace Call)) ::It had been a while now since Chythar’s return from hell. The strange sensation of a real bed, the full eight or so hours of sleep per night, the comforting presence of the beagle, and a working replicator still felt a wee bit alien. Not nearly as strange as it had the first night he was back, but still not quite routine just yet. It was a long re-learning curve, and it would take time before it all felt normal again.:: Computer: Subspace call from the Darwin. Lt Commander Icavoc, USS Darwin. ::Chythar blinked and scratched his head curiously as he pulled on a shirt and walked over to his desk. The name sounded familiar, but he could not place it.:: Skyfire: oO Wonder what they want...Oo Skyfire: Onscreen. ::The screen flickered to life and displayed a rather disturbing set of blue eyes, the kind of icy blue that reminded him of Azin. It was disturbing in the amount of resemblances: blue eyes, black hair, and Dokkaran. The two reassuring features that made this the more pleasant were that this one was wearing red and was a lieutenant commander. CD blinked once, but then found his tongue in short order.:: Skyfire: =/\= Commander. To what do I owe the pleasure? =/\= Icavoc: =/\= I would ask you the same thing. I believe you wanted to discuss a matter with me? =/\= ::Nicu Icavoc shifted his weight, his was voice serene and even as ever, but a faint smile and sparkling blue eyes conveyed a sense of friendliness and amusement. He couldn’t really blame Chythar Skyfire for being surprised. He had tried to get in touch some time ago, unsuccessfully. That was the way it was with Starfleet, people were always busy and the last year had been challenging for the Darwin’s crew from start to end. It was only now that they were on leave on Trill awaiting new orders that he finally had free time and was at a loss how to use it.:: ::Had he put in a request for that? Oh yes, now he remembered. Captain Reynolds had mentioned putting him in touch with someone who wasn't Azin but was of that species to aid in his search for comprehension. It made sense now, sort of. In a few hours it might make more sense, but for now it was enough.:: Skyfire: =/\= Right. Sorry, I momentarily forgot. Okay. =/\= ::He paused and took a breath before beginning to explain the basics of what had happened.:: Skyfire: =/\= So, what I'd like to know from you is: is it possible for an ancient memory to cause blindness in your species upon awakening from hibernation? =/\= ::With Dokkaran, each individual was born with all the knowledge they needed to get started in life. No two individuals were blessed with exactly the same knowledge. He had been born with botantical and zoological knowledge, and had a love of science. It was his thirst for knowledge and concern about the threat represented by the Borg that drove him to enlist in Starfleet and learn about the galactic threats beyond his own world so that he might bring back knowledge to his people of how to defend themselves. It took many years but he did achieve that goal and later retrained at Starfleet Academy to take up a career as a scientist. He had walked many paths and it was the knowledge bestowed upon him at birth that started him along it.::::He knew of others who were blessed with the knowledge of their young species history, indeed there were a few individuals from those early days who still lived! They were among the species eldest members and showed no signs of slowing down. No one yet knew the natural lifespan of a Dokkaran as none had died from old age. Disease and disaster had claimed them but not time itself. Nicu looked down and fell silent as he searched his memories. This was one of the most intriguing and unique questions he’d ever been asked. While he was no medic, his background in biology, alongside all the work he’d been doing with Doctor Pond and scientific colleague Merrick R’Ven gave him a considerable understanding of his species.:: Icavoc: =/\= I have never heard of it, nor can I think of any way it would be biologically possible given all I know of my kind. What makes you ask? =/\= ::Difficult question to answer, and to explain it would be just weird. Here’s hoping.:: Skyfire: =/\= My circumstances...I was told long after the incident that I had a predisposition to the genetic mutation for the possibility of becoming telepathic. It wasn't until after I assisted with this...thing...that I became such. One of your people came to me with sensory difficulties of sight and collapsed in my arms. My nervous system became linked with his, and he mentioned my mental resistance was impressive for a human. It took both of us a moment to recover from the inciting incident, but he wished my assistance in combatting a memory of someone named Vehsa. After that second melding, which was actually the one which rewrote my genome, that’s when... =/\= ::He paused and took a very long breath, silent for a few moments as he tried to recall the events which practically killed him the first time.:: Skyfire: =/\= When this link broke, I was...transformed, and the patient’s sight was restored. I received an initial rating of T2/E2, meaning that I was a non-contact telepath and empath with other humans. It wasn’t until later that year my abilities changed again to my current rating of T4/E6 through a different incident not involving one of your people, but the linking of minds with that patient had messed with me in ways I didn’t imagine. =/\= ::It was an incredible tale! One Nicu had to consider very carefully. His people were capable of performing what some had likened to a sort of ‘Vulcan mind meld’ He had melded once or twice with other members of his own race he was chasing or being chased by. It was considered a most intimate act, in fact the most intimate act between individuals. He knew it to be possible to meld with others not of his own species, all he had to do was attune his nervous system to theirs, though he had never done it. One had to be very careful with such things as most minds could be easily overwhelmed by it. He could see a situation in which a meld might occur through unintended or even involuntary means and perhaps that is why it had occurred in this case. It felt like he didn’t yet have all the pieces for the puzzle however and Nicu hoped Skyfire would not be offended by his questions.:: Icavoc: =/\= And you are human? Forgive me but there are so many distinct species who look alike on the surface but are different enough genetically for it to be significant. =/\=Skyfire: =/\= Correct. Full human, born on Earth with no history of reader ancestry, only the predisposition for a telepathic mutation somewhere in my genome which emerged after the...meld. =/\= ::He still wasn’t sure what it was called with Icavoc’s race. It was a bizarre experience he didn’t really know how to explain, but he’d experienced a few melds since. It was different each time.::Icavoc: =/\= Any hybrid DNA? =/\=::Humans were not known for being a species capable to telepathy or empathy and the brain anatomy of those that were had specific biological foundations that made such things possible. Skyfire’s direct parents might both be human, but if there was a telepathic species, maybe a Betazoid somewhere in the family tree above him then perhaps it would account for this genetic predisposition that had been mentioned. His brain might be just slightly different enough to a regular human with no hybrid family history to explain how this was physiologically possible.:: Skyfire: =/\= None that I know of. According to my colleague Dr. Saveron, he couldn’t find any; just the predisposition. =/\= ::Humans were not known for being a species capable to telepathy or empathy and the brain anatomy of those that were had specific biological foundations that made such things possible. Skyfire’s direct parents might both be human, but if there was a telepathic species, maybe a Betazoid somewhere in the family tree above him then perhaps it would account for this genetic predisposition that had been mentioned. His brain might be just slightly different enough to a regular human with no hybrid family history to explain how this was physiologically possible.::::One of the reasons Nicu had joined Starfleet was to learn more about the species his had been modelled on. At the birth of their species they had been granted forms similar in appearance to Lieutenant Evangeline Dell, and Ensign Christian Allanzar - the first individuals to meet The Lady. He was no human or doctor, so while he wasn’t aware humans had any predisposition for this type of thing he had to accept it at face value. He was sure both Skyfire and Saveron had looked into this extensively, so the only insight he could give was about his own kind, which, thankfully was what the human seemed to be after. The answer had filled in a few more gaps, allowing him to analyse the situation. After several more minutes of contemplation he could draw only one conclusion and perhaps this had already been considered too.:: Icavoc: =/\= It is not physiologically possible for telepathic abilities to be ‘passed along’ you might say, in the manner you describe - even with a genetic predisposition and a bad melding - that is to say one that was not deliberately and very carefully and purposefully executed. =/\=::Of this he was quite confident. A bad meld could turn someone into a vegetable and shut down pathways in their mind. He didn’t know the details about the memory concerning Vehsa - it was probably private and possibly traumatic. Knowledge was sacred among his people, he returned to the homeworld whenever he could to link with the lady and share all he had learned from academia and experience. The Lady would then pass that along to other Dokkaran. By communing directly with the lady he had on occasion gained insight direct from her that had first been learned by others among them.:: Icavoc: =/\= There would have to be something else - another, probably unaccounted for, third factor. Perhaps it was also affecting the individual in your arms. =/\=::It seemed most likely that if there was, Skyfire wouldn’t have been aware of it at the time with being caught up in the moment and the mind meld. Such things could take you so far out of your reality that someone could come in, climb on your back and you wouldn’t be aware of it. Of course, with all the time that had passed from the incident it was not something that could be easily checked either. It left him fearing that he could offer little help or closure about how exactly he had gained such fantastic abilities. Hopefully something he had been able to provide was of some use to the man.:: Skyfire: =/\= I’d say it was pretty purposeful and deliberate, given the scenario. I’d asked him the same question, but he neither confirmed nor denied I would be altered by the experience prior to it happening, nor had he seemed to consider the possibility it would be even possible to trigger the existing predisposition of telepathy polymorphing into limited abilities within my own species. The pain overwhelmed me and almost killed me, so whatever the third factor is...I hope you can figure it out and get back to me. =/\= ::Nicu doubted anyone could have known beforehand what the long term consequences would be so the response was hardly surprising to him. Nicu considered what he knew of the case and as much as he wanted to be able to help, the information he had about this case was limited and nothing jumped out at him. If something had been missed when the incident had originally occurred they may never find out what this third factor might be. Skyfire had called with questions about how a Dokkaran mind meld could bring out telepathic and empathic abilities in him and he had responded to the best of his knowledge as a scientist. Nicu did not believe the mind meld was the cause of Skyfire’s emerging telepathy, certainly not on its own as it was physiologically impossible.:: Icavoc: =/\= As much as I would love to help, I also don’t want to fill you with false hope. There is nothing more I can give, based on the information I have. Good luck with your search for the answer. =/\= ::As simplistic as the answer was, it also made Chythar rather sad to hear it. He was the first human he knew of with non-reader ancestry to have an “awakening” caused in this fashion. Since the commander could find no evidence in his species of this being what could only be described as a first time. He kept his expression neutral as he spoke, deciding to wrap this up before writing a log entry.:: Skyfire: =/\= Alright. Thank you for your time, Commander. =/\= Icavoc: =/\= ::Sincerely:: I truly hope you find the answers you are looking for. Good day Chythar Skyfire. =/\= ::Once the line closed, Chythar sat back in the chair and blew a strand of hair from his face. He now had something to report if Flt Captain Reynolds made an inquiry on whether the Dokkaran contact got in touch. Granted, it wasn’t particularly helpful, but it was at least contact. This made him the first case in Dokkaran history to have abilities awaken via such a meld. In any case, it was something to log for his next conversation with Lt. Uzoamaka. With a sigh, he glanced up at the ceiling.:: Skyfire: Computer, begin recording. Today consisted of a conversation with another Dokkaran who wasn’t Azin to discuss my unique abilities. Such an awakening, which is the name I’ve given it, is physiologically impossible. Bad meld or not. So, the third factor will remain a mystery and I’m the first human in the history of their kind to have this happen. End recording. ::CD contemplated going to bug Alex and talk it out, but he had woken up just for this call. So maybe it was easier to go back to sleep instead. He heard the inquisitive “raff” from the bed behind him, so it seemed like the answer was “go back to bed.” He left his desk and returned to the confines of his blanket and the reassuring presence of the beagle, leaving that mystery for another day.:: ::Meanwhile, on the Darwin, Nicu Icavoc stood and paced. Was he mistaken? Was there some detail he had overlooked? For the next three hours, Nicu reviewed all he knew about Dokkaran and human physiology and studied them both more closely, using the most up-to-date materials. The time he spent using advanced models and holoimaging techniques led him to one conclusion. There had been no mistake. Whether this unknown factor was environmental, or biological he could not tell from the information he had and the possibilities for what it might be were almost limitless. It was disappointing that he could not be of more help to the doctor. It would be wonderful to be able to point to something and say, this is it, this is the reason these wondrous abilities emerged. Perhaps one day he would find the answer he was looking for.:: PNPC LtCmdr Icavoc - Chief of Security Fleet Captain Renos - Commanding Officer, USS Darwin NCC-99312-A * Executive Council & Captain's Council Member * Academy Commandant A238805EB0 And Lieutenant Commander Chythar Skyfire Chief Medical Officer USS Gorkon, NCC-82293 O239002CS0
  12. round 3 LtCmd. Traenor, "Barque"

    ((Personal Quarters, Deck 6 - USS Darwin-A)) ::After a long day in the office dealing with personnel files and liaising with departmental heads, Maxwell Traenor was beat. He was used to office work, a career of lab work had prepared him for that, but the bureaucratic finagling was still foreign to him and taxed his acuity. All he wanted to do now was sit at the piano for half an hour to limber his fingers and arms, then flop on the couch with a snifter of brandy and read the latest FNS feeds. A bit of smooth jazz wafting through his quarters would be a nice relaxing addition as well. Then, after a light meal, he'd hit the bunk early.:: ::When he opened the door to his quarters, Maxwell paused for a moment. Though he liked his room fairly dark, at half illumination, it was darker still than that. Puzzled, he walked in and threw the ever-present PADDs in his hand onto the closed piano lid.:: Traenor: Computer, raise lights to half illumination. Eden Taylor: Surprise!! ::A shape sprung out of the darkness, and Maxwell nearly fell flat on his rear, saved ignominiously by clutching at the edge of the piano. He might or might not have screeched in shock, but either way his response to the visitor in his room was not graceful or dignified.:: Traenor: Eden! Darn it, you scared me! What are you doing here?! ::The teenager had fallen on the couch herself, holding her sides and laughing at the reaction she had managed to elicit. Maxwell had half a mind to chuck a PADD at her, but in all honestly he was overjoyed to see her. It had been over a year since he had last been to Earth and seen her in the flesh, and she had grown into a proper woman. At 17, she was pretty much all grown. It was a poignant reminder of the rapid passage of time, as he could remember holding her swaddled form in his arms on the day she was born as if it was just yesterday.:: Taylor: I came here to see you, Mr Starfleet-I'm-Too-Busy-To-Come-And-Visit-My-Niece-Anymore! Traenor: ::drolly:: Somehow I don't see that moniker fitting on my office door plaque. Taylor: Seriously, though, Uncle Gordie. It's been like forever! I was tired of seeing you only via vidchat once every couple months. I had a mid-term break, and I decided to come out here to see you! ::Maxwell marveled; she must have caught some fast transports in order to get out to the Zeta Gelis region and still plan to get back to Earth in time for the spring term. Not that he minded, in fact he was overjoyed, but he wondered how she had managed to convince her mother to let her travel alone to the far reaches of Federation presence. His sister Kirsten was overbearing when it came to family, and it must have taken a LOT of negotiations between the two to allow this trip to happen.:: Traenor: You should have told me! I could have prepared for your arrival, made plans... Taylor: What, and miss that look on your face when I jumped out at you? Nuh-uh. ::wicked grin:: Wouldn't have missed that for the world. ::He tried to shoot his niece a dour frown, but the muscles in his face refused to comply. He was simply too happy to have her here to even pretend to be anything but overjoyed. She jumped up off the couch, and he swept her up in a crushing bear hug.:: Traenor: It's great to see you, kiddo. Whatever the circumstances, I'm glad to have you here. ::Maxwell let her go, and was going to go get them some refreshments from the replicator when he heard a strange muffled sound. He paused for a moment, head tilted, trying to suss out the location and cause of the sound. Eden, seeing him stopped, moved forward with a bit of a blush on her cheeks. She stepped between him and the door to the washroom.:: Traenor: Did you hear something? Taylor: Yes, umm... well, your birthday is coming up within the next several weeks, and I didn't think I'd get the chance to see you before then again, so I kinda got you a gift... ::Maxwell was able to eke out a slight frown this time. Eden was acting strangely, almost as if with a guilty conscience, and her cheeks were continuing to redden. He heard the odd sound yet again, and between his niece's actions and triangulation, he was able to determine that it was coming from the washroom. Confused and consternated, he affixed Eden with an accusatory glare.:: Traenor: What do you mean, a gift? ::The teenager turned and went towards the washroom door. As it swooshed open upon her approach, a small four-legged apparition with floppy ears and a long snout, big dark eyes, and a lolling tongue hanging comically from its mouth. It stopped and gave a squeaking yap.:: Traenor: That - is that - is it what I think it is? Taylor: Uncle Gordie, meet Barque. Barque, meet Uncle Gordie. He's a beagle puppy! ::The furry creature bounded up to Maxwell and jumped up against his leg. It looked up at him with a lopsided grin, and yapped again.:: Traenor: "Bark"? Awfully onomatopoeic for a name. Taylor: Not "bark", as in "woof, woof", silly. "Barque", as in the boat! Huh? Huh? Get it? ::Maxwell groaned in mock distaste at the terrible pun, but in actuality he thought it was quite hilarious and clever. The wide grin of humorous anticipation on Eden's face betrayed that she thought it was a pun so terrible as to be hilarious, as well. The two of them shared the same twisted sense of humor, after all. Charles Darwin, the namesake of the vessel Maxwell called home, made a journey of evolutionary discovery on a sailing barque named "HMS Beagle". A barque named "Beagle", a beagle named "Barque"... Yup. That was definitely shared humor.:: Traenor: Whatever gave you the idea to choose that name, I wonder? Taylor: Easy. I suggested it to Mom, and she thought it was stupid. ::evil grin:: That's when I knew it was perfect! ::Maxwell knew he shouldn't laugh at such a disparaging comment about his sister, but it was so true that he couldn't help himself. The laugh was short-lived, though. There was the elephant in the room to deal with, or more accurately, the Canis familiaris in the room. Maxwell was diametrically opposed to the idea of "pet ownership", considering it barbaric to wield dominance and control over another creature. Yet, here stood Eden, telling him that she had just gave him a dog. He was not pleased.:: Traenor: Eden, you know how I feel about pets. Whatever possessed you to think I would accept a dog? ::She affixed him with a scolding, imperious stare, hands on her hips. Eden might have gotten her humor from her Uncle Gordie, but this gesture was all Kirsten. In fact, in this pose Maxwell could see the striking resemblance between his sister Kirsten and Eden. The more Eden grew, the more she adopted her mother's natural beauty and easy grace. As long as the younger Taylor woman kept her easygoing smile and didn't allow it to morph into the dour frown that seemed to dominate Kirsten's face constantly, then the similarity was not a bad thing.:: Taylor: You only hold that stance because you've never taken more than an analytical thought process to the issue. Use your withered, cold heart to look at that little bundle of joy and tell me that you couldn't love him! Traenor: It has nothing to do with love. It has everything to do with denying a lesser creature its natural instincts, caging and restraining it, forcing subservience onto a living, breathing animal. Taylor: Yes, but Terran dogs are naturally inclined to a subservient relationship with people. Their evolutionary traits have formed synonymous with those of humans. They have an inherent need for companionship and a pack hierarchy, where they look to a dominant figure for guidance, subsistence, and affection. Being a dog owner doesn't pervert their needs, it enhances and fulfills them. It's genetics and evolution, Uncle Gordie, plain and simple. ::Darn, but if she didn't come prepared. She was using science against a scientist, his greatest weakness! Maxwell needed to change tack to try and get himself out of this predicament.:: Traenor: A starship is no place for a pet. It's improper to have a dog in such a confined space. Taylor: On the contrary, Uncle Gordie. Starfleet regulations have no qualms with officers having small pets in their possession while on active duty. As a senior officer, you actually have the luxury of large quarters that make space even less of an issue. The Darwin has a large arboretum for natural space, and the holodecks can create more space to devise any number of engaging environments for training and exercising a dog. Oh! By the way, congratulations on making First Officer! The Security officer that escorted me to your quarters and let me in told me all about it! Never thought you'd be anything but an egghead scientist, if I'm being honest. ::Maxwell sighed, realizing that he had neglected to contact his family yet and tell them the good news. Their return from the Delta Quadrant had heralded a heavy workload, and his own personal commiserations had distracted him from thinking of making the social call.:: Traenor: Thank you, but quit trying to change the subject. What about his health? There's not exactly a veterinary doctor aboard. Taylor: ::looking askance at him:: You trying to tell me that a science ship with a full contingent of xenobiologists and a medical staff trained to deal with hundreds of alien physiologies can't give a little puppy a regular checkup? Besides, ::slyly producing an isolinear chip:: many ships without the Darwin's prolific benefits make do with caring for crewmember's pets. Here is a veterinary subroutine for the holodeck, a program which fully simulates an animal hospital replete with trained and friendly doctors and nurses. Barque will not want for the best care possible. Plus, I've already programmed in the recipes for a dozen nutritional supplements for Barque into your replicator, varying based on the nutritional demands as he grows, several healthy treats for training and spoiling him, and the replimat catalogue has plenty of chew toys. Traenor: ::at a loss:: This all may be true, but having a pet still requires permission from a commanding officer. There's no guarantee that my captain will allow me to keep a pet! Taylor: ::broad grin:: I've already sent a message to Captain Renos on your behalf. Ne has the request. I was very sweet and convincing in it. I expounded on the benefits to your morale and health due to the regular exercise you'll get from walking him. By the way, you have a J'naii captain? That's so cool! I didn't know there were many J'naii in Starfleet! Traenor: ::distracted, exasperated:: There isn't. It's complicated. Never mind that! The most important thing is, you never considered whether I actually want to keep, care for, and train a dog. What if I say no? Are you prepared to take the dog back and keep him yourself? Taylor: You wouldn't. You couldn't. How can you say no to such a cute little face? ::Maxwell looked down at the puppy at his feet, and when the beagle caught him staring at it, it started wiggling it's tail enthusiastically. It let out another little yap.:: Taylor: C'monnnn, Uncle Gordie! You know you wannnt to keep him! You know you wannnt to love him! You're so lonely out here at the fringes of the Federation, and Barque will be the perfect companion. Please? ::Eden clasped her hands in a prayer fashion and skewered Maxwell with puppy dog eyes, affecting a begging whimpering to try and convince him. Barque, skewering him with real puppy dog eyes, affected a sympathetic whimpering in response. Though he tried to look annoyed, Maxwell actually found the both of them to be endearing.:: Traenor: Tsk tsk, Eden. You're not eight anymore. That won't work on me. oO Except that it kinda is... Oo ::Eden tittered in response, and called Barque over to the couch. The puppy, ungainly on his oversized paws, scampered over and jumped up. She proceeded to scratch him behind the ears, which caused the poor thing's eyes to roll back into his head with ecstatic pleasure.:: Traenor: Y'know, with the level of intellect and dedication you've applied to this debate, have you ever considered becoming a scientist? Or a diplomat? Taylor: No way! I'm going to be a pilot. You know that. I've already started flying lessons, in preparation of acing the Starfleet entrance exams next summer. ::Thinking of Eden entering Starfleet was bittersweet for several reasons. First, the fact that she was but a half year away from being eligible to enroll was mind-boggling. Second, a career in Starfleet wasn't without risk, and could be an isolating choice of callings, which was not a palatable thought to an overprotective uncle. However, with both himself and Eden's father being Starfleet officers, it was in no way surprising that Eden would be drawn to the service. Why as a pilot he had no idea, but it was something she had obsessed about for most of her life. Traenor knew she could be most anything, an engineer like her father or a scientist like himself, or even a negotiator, he thought ironically. But, if she wanted to join Starfleet and aspire to be a helmsman, then Maxwell would be honored to sponsor her wish. He moved over to the couch and sat down on the opposite side of the puppy from Eden, and started stroking his back.:: Traenor: Oh, his fur is so soft! Taylor: ::with a knowing smile:: I knew you'd fall in love with him! ::He mock scowled at her, before looking down at the puppy. He was kind of cute. His fur was very soft, softer than he expected. He was so warm, and looked cuddly. His eyes were closed now, possibly napping, as they both continued to pet him. Though it was for all the wrong reasons, Maxwell could appreciate the sentiment behind getting him a puppy. It went against all he had believed in, that owning pets was wrong and borderline evil, but if she was right and it was a mutually beneficial relationship? Would it really be so bad to own a beagle named Barque? He snorted in laughter.:: Traenor: A beagle named Barque. You really are a dork. Taylor: ::quick retort:: Takes one to know one. ::The two laughed, a deep belly laugh that resonated throughout the quarters and roused the puppy from his slumber just long enough to give them a baleful look before slumping back to sleep. This made them laugh anew, and the two settled into a comfortable and animated recollection of their lives during the months they had been absent from each other. All desires for quiet relaxation dissipated as Maxwell cherished the chance to catch up with his beloved niece.:: TBC LtCmdr Maxwell Traenor - First Officer, USS Darwin NCC-99312-A Graphic Contest Taskforce =/\= Characters Guild Co-Facilitator A239111MT0
  13. ((Deep Space 6 - Deck 79, Sickbay Complex)) ::After so long an interminable period of time, Maxwell Traenor could stand it no longer. He knew that his captain and friend Renos had been placed in a medically-induced coma in order to facilitate nir healing, but no other info had been forthcoming since. All he knew was, “no visitors allowed!” But, that just wouldn’t deter the obstinate scientist.:: ::Technically, with his assignment to acting first officer of the Darwin, Maxwell should be wearing the maroon collar of the Command track. Thankfully though, he had some teal Science uniforms still left hanging in his closet, and it was one of these that he had donned. As well, sneaking into the Darwin’s sickbay, he had absconded with both a medical lab coat and a medical tricorder. He made his way onto Deep Space 6, and wearing his (admittedly) weak disguise, he furtively moved through the vast medical complex of the station. Every time a nurse or doctor passed by, he made to stop at a door and look carefully at the label, or lifted a PADD to his face as if studying a chart. Heart thumping with the tension of his pathetic ruse, Maxwell slunk through one twisted hallway after another, with one clear goal in mind. Find his friend.:: ::Todd did a double take as he followed a man along the corridor acting a little strangely. He seemed a bit skittish and kept stopping to check things. With a smirk he realised who it was and what he was up to. Thinking that his farce had seemed to go mostly unnoticed, and finally starting to feel that he might get away with the ruse, Maxwell jumped when he felt a firm hand clasp down on his shoulder. :: Manius: Nice try buddy. Manius: oO If he’d called I’d have given him an update. Oo Traenor: What? Hey, Doc! What’s up? Imagine seeing you here… ::affecting an obviously forced jovial tone:: Manius: You know, if you’d asked I’d have happily told you that Renos is now awake and accepting visitors… Traenor: Oh. Yeah. Well, I knew that… Manius: Of course that’s why you didn’t don a disguise and try to sneak yourself in. :: His tone was flat and totally serious. Part of him couldn’t understand how the man was smart enough to get to Lieutenant Commander and even be given the opportunity to serve as acting first officer - but didn’t have the sense to call in for a status report. He was either too smart for his own good or missing his friend to the point of not thinking too clearly. The other part was amused and impressed that Traenor cared enough about Renos to try and sneak his way in to see nem. :: ::Embarrassed by the obvious lie he had just told someone who could see right through it, Maxwell cleared his throat noisily and shoved the awkwardly held medical tricorder into the pocket of the ill-fitting lab coat.:: Traenor: ::harrumphing:: Well then, is there any chance you can point me towards nir room? ::Led to the door of the private suite where Renos was housed, Traenor found himself pausing just outside. He had heard the stories, the descriptions of the terrible state that ne had been in when they had retrieved nem from the enemy warship. He feared his reaction to what he would find when he lay eyes on his friend for the first time since the debilitating injuries had been incurred. The all-too familiar warring emotions since nir abduction bubbled up within him again, those of abject fear of loss, and also of indescribable rage towards those who would do such a thing to Renos. Both emotions were ones that very seldom reared themselves within the normally jovial, easygoing man, so their presence together at this time were almost paralyzing. Taking a deep breath in a mostly successful attempt to steel himself, Maxwell poked his head in through the doorway.:: Traenor: ::quietly:: Renos, are you awake? ::finally seeing nem alive, in the flesh, his emotions boiled over:: Oh, my gods. My dear friend. :: Renos’s spirits immediately rose to see Gordie and ne gave him a small, goofy grin. Ne’d missed him more than any other while held prisoner on Raikenoff’s ship and worried about never seeing him again. The captain had realised their friendship was the strongest personal connection ne had. :: Renos: Gordie you have no idea how happy I am to see you again… ::Whether it was truly nir state, or a projection of Traenor’s own thoughts as to Renos’s vulnerability, all Maxwell could see was a frail, damaged J’naii in the place of the idealized strong, stoic captain that stood large in his mind. Without thought to propiety or consequence, Maxwell swooped into the room and collected Renos in a large, smothering hug.:: Traenor: ::voice muffled and choked, face pressed against nir shoulder:: Don’t you ever leave me again like that! :: Caught unawares Renos was too slow to wrap nir arms around him and hug him back but ne didn’t realise how much ne needed the hug until ne was wrapped in it. The J’naii really didn’t want it to end. Renos didn’t know what to think but the little spark of hope ne held seemed to grow and burn more fiercely in nir heart.:: ::Letting go and stepping back, Maxwell blinked in shock and modesty for his Freudian slip. Clearing his tear-choked throat unsuccessfully, he nervously smoothed the hospital gown’s shoulders where he had ruffled them and spoke again in a gruff voice.:: Traenor: Us. Don’t you ever leave us again like that. :: The J’naii’s heart beat with excitement and ne suddenly felt uncharacteristically nervous. Just what was ne thinking? Pushing down nir emerging feelings before they had a chance to be recognised or dashed ne replied hastily and bashfully. :: Renos: Yeah, yeah, I’ll try not to make a habit of it. ::Chuckling nervously:: :: The gruff medic smirked at the pair of them and shook his head. He’d taken note of the Captain’s increased heart rate and was interfering early. :: Manius: Okay cuddles back it up. The Captain’s got a heart condition and doesn’t need people throwing themselves at nem. Renos: ::A little irritably:: Watch your mouth Todd, that’s out of line. There’s no need to be so rude. If anyone’s causing a strain on my heart around here its you. Traenor: No, he’s right, Renos. We need you to heal, and come back to us soon. We’ll have time enough to talk later. For now, I’m just happy to see you up and about. ::His words were simple enough, but Maxwell could feel what was left unspoken between the lines. He had admitted a dependency on Renos’s presence more than even he had realized before, a close friendship that bordered on family. No, he amended, just like family. And, he noted with satisfaction that he hadn’t been rebuffed. This wasn’t a conversation to be held in front of Manius anyways, it could wait for a more appropriate time.:: :: Renos let out a long exasperated sigh. Ne wasn’t upset with Gordie for agreeing with Todd, rather ne wished Todd hadn’t spoiled the moment. He’d barely arrived but was set to flee already. It was almost too much to bear. Ne wanted him to stay awhile, to tell him how much he’d been missed and reach out to take his hand but that hardly seemed appropriate. :: Renos: Well thanks for stopping by. Traenor: Any time, my friend, and I’ll be back soon. TBC Captain Renos - Commanding Officer, USS Darwin NCC-99312-A and guest starring PNPC Dr Manius - Medic FWPA 2015 Co-Facilitator =/\= Publicity Team Facilitator A238805EB0 ~and~ LtCmdr Maxwell Traenor - Acting First Officer, USS Darwin NCC-99312-AGraphic Contest Taskforce =/\= Publicity TeamA239111MT0
  14. ((Holodeck 1, USS Darwin-A)) :: Since the last shore leave, Valdivia had been attending to Kaigut classes, taught by Captain Renos nemself. The other attendant had been Rennyn. Renos was in a coma and Rennyn was getting transferred, which left Valdivia a bit alone on that. He wondered whether the Captain would be willing to continue the classes with just one student, once ne recovered. :: :: Until then, however, he was willing to keep practicing, even if there were no classes he still had the holodeck. :: Valdivia: oO Fold, chambering, refold, recovery. Oo :: The problem was, at his current level, practicing could only mean repeating the same series of kicks once and again against an static holographic opponent. :: Valdivia: oO Fold, chambering, refold, recovery. Oo :: Doll would be more accurate, it was completely white with a red line to mark the body and the articulations. :: Valdivia: oO Fold, chambering, refold, recovery. Oo :: There were basically three kicks Valdivia more or less controlled. And then several that he had seen and practiced a few times, but he wasn't sure enough about his level to be practising them. :: Valdivia: oO Fold, chambering, refold, recovery. Fold, chambering, refold, recovery. Oo :: He started alternating the different kicks, creating random patterns on his head. He wasn't even sure he was doing them right, and there was no one there to check. :: Valdivia: oO This is stupid. Oo :: He stopped, took several deep breaths to recover, and started thinking. :: Valdivia: Computer, are there partice programs available for kaigut? Computer: Affirmative. :: Valdivia checked the list the computer offered. :: Valdivia: Run beginner level practice. :: A second doll appeared, and a J'naii uniformed for kaigut, that acted as sensei. Valdivia moved next to nem. :: Hologram: Low kick. :: Valdivia started a series of low kicks, aimed at the knee, following the rithm of the holographic sensei. :: Valdivia: oO Fold, chambering, refold, recovery. Oo :: Counting on the program to tell him to stop, he didn't count the series, but they probably did about sixty, changing side after each ten. :: Hologram: Middle kick. :: That was a bit harder, Valdivia was still struggling with keeping his balance for the recovery. :: Valdivia: oO Fold, chambering, refold, recovery. Oo Hologram: Recovery, try to keep your balance. :: Another attempt. :: Hologram: Recovery, try to keep your balance. Valdivia: oO Shut up. Oo Hologram: Recovery, try to keep your balance. :: It was clear than the program was exactly that, a computer program. He detected one flaw in his kick and repeated the same message. Which became even more frustrating that his own realizing of the flaw. :: Valdivia: oO Fold, chambering, refold, recovery. Oo Hologram: Recovery, try to keep your balance. Valdivia: SHUT UP! Agh, you are not Renos! :: Frustrated, he stormed out of the holodeck, with a new reason for hoping for Renos speedy recovery added to an already long list. :: Valdivia: End program! Lt. John Valdivia - Science Officer - USS Darwin-A D238701JV0
  15. Out of the loop..(Embassy character)

    Great To see you back Barrett!
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