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Toni

Executive Council member
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Toni last won the day on September 25

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About Toni

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    Rear Admiral, Let's Roll!
  • Birthday June 5

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    Duronis II Embassy
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    Commanding Officer

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    Deep South USA
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    Female
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    Writing and Graphics

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    http://www.angelfire.com/my/lost

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  1. Congratulations Captain Jalana Rajel & Captain Sal Taybrim on winning the Last Top Sim contest! Well done!
  2. Why did you apply to join our community?

    We're really glad you were "swayed." Hope you enjoy the group as much as I do.
  3. Why did you apply to join our community?

    I can assure you, Rev'ya , you will be in good company. Welcome to the group!
  4. (( Tar’rec, Conference Room)) :: A few hours had passed since the leader of the TFM had contacted him. It had been the first time that he had personally spoken with her and the woman had irritated him slightly. There was something in her voice that had not fitted and the irony of their words had not passed him entirely. D’Nal had decided to see how things shaped up with the TFM and then adjust his plans if necessary. Another point of interest was that the Warbird tracing the second federation ship had managed to scan the Thunder while passing. She was obviously in a critical stage of her repairs and so vulnerable that Merek’s hands itched. A potential target of that caliber was hard to ignore however an open attack on a federation vessel was not an option and other paths had to be followed. The experienced officer gazed out of the window contemplating methods to reach his goal. A success at this point would help secure his position and while Admiral Turner had proven to be an accomplished opponent so far, the loss of another ship in orbit of the same planet currently struggling through yet another crisis would hardly improve her standing with her superiors. Federation citizens got so touchy when loved ones were killed and D’Nal was aware this was especially the case when it happened twice in similar circumstances. What he needed here was either official backing making an assault legitimate, or a more subtle approach which had many far more positive aspects. Then again there was always ... . His watch chimed a reminder and he turned back to the large table and took a seat at its head where he continued to look over the data pads before him. Three other officers silently entered the room and made themselves comfortable and waited until Merek deigned to notice them. :: Merek: :: looking at his flag officers :: Gentlemen the current situation on Duronis provides the empire with an opportunity to strike. The movement against the governing body of the Laudean people is no longer growing but thriving, unfortunately however once again the Federation has chosen the wrong party to side with. It is time to act. The Thunder is incapacitated, their second ship, the Bronwyn has teeth but is no match for our vessels while there is a reasonable chance that a third federation ship is in the vicinity. :: He let his words sink in, aware that the two captains were no doubt intrigued why he was speaking to them rather than just giving orders to attack. Over the years Cr’air had slowly grown used to the fact that his Riov preferred listening before acting, and now he himself wanted to know what the two latest additions to his commanding staff thought about, well thinking. That is voicing and defending an opinion rather than just backing an idea because it came from their superior. The two men at least had the poise not to look at each other or to Cr’air for help before answering. :: Virinsus: Riov, the fleet stands behind you as do I. I ascertain that you do not wish an open conflict with Starfleet? Merek: ::shrugging:: Why use a hammer when a feather can have the same effect? Our tactical position is strong and an attack would likely be successful, however we do not have the resources to occupy Til’ahn, the TFM have not yet gained the full support of the population and the Laudeans have the regrettable tendency to be unreliable partners. Virinsus: And the Federation would no doubt send ships to ‘investigate’ any losses. Jechrohk: If a direct assault will only net a temporary gain, then I suggest we use our allies instead. Let them strike into the heart of the federation forces and we will pick up the pieces. Virinsus: Indeed and if the assaults fail then nothing would point at us. Merely a regrettable incident. Merek: ::waving a hand irritably:: Yes, yes. We are already supporting the TFM as much as we can without openly showing ourselves. Other means need to be employed to cripple the Thunder and if possible destroy the Bronwyn in both cases without our direct involvement. With most of their counter arguments burning in orbit of the planet the Federation will have no choice but to vacate the Embassy. :: There was general agreement over the fact. :: Merek: Of course if and when the TFM succeeds we will dissuade their further influence and steer the populace towards our own goals. ::smiling ::, ‘erhwi u’mnhei mhivoi na nneikha’! (divide and rule for the empire!). :: The Romulan commander had no difficulties in speaking cursively. :: Jechrohk: Mhivoi na nneikha! Merek: Then I wish reports on how we go about achieving our goal. How do we get the TFM to remove our strongest enemy? Reports within the hour. :: The men nodded in his direction and rose to leave. Merek found himself contemplating Cr’air who had remained silent, a trait he would normal welcome. This looked different. While he pondered this he looked spoke up again without looking to his captains. :: Merek: Oh, that reminds me. I was informed that two of our vessels were spotted and knowledge of our presence is compromised. The D’Entin with her older cloaking abilities will continue shadowing her target. As the Federation will no doubt begin scanning for cloaked vessels she will be no doubt found soon enough, however they are hardly in a position to object to the D’Entin’s presence. We in the meantime will remain in the shadows of the sand bar where their eyes can not find us. Jechrohk: That may hinder our indirect support of the Laudeans. Merek: Maybe, however we will continue as I have ordered. If we need be in closer proximity of the planer then the Tar’rec and Deuxis will do so under the cover of our superior cloaks which the Federation have yet to counter. You both will only join us if we openly attack. Jolan tru. :: After the two officers had left D’Nal turned his attention to his aide once more. The younger man had been attentive and was even now alert, his silence no doubt had a reason. :: Merek: Your thoughts Cr’air? Cr’air: Riov, the Thunder may be an easy target. Especially as it is clear that they are replacing a large part of their hull and armor and truly are defenseless. The Bronwyn however is far better armed than the Laudeans ships and I have no doubt that Starfleet intelligence is far away. :: Yes that Chang never seemed to be far whenever the Laudeans had a crisis on their hands. D’Nal ignored the urge to clench his fists at her mention. Anger was not the best ally when planning the downfall of others. :: Merek: I agree. We should use caution. The Thunder’s demise is possible so we should try and achieve that at least. Everything is a bonus. I suppose you have an idea? Cr’air: But you just ordered Virinsus… Merek: ::raising a hand:: They will no doubt come up with something. Maybe it will work maybe it won’t. As I said the Thunder is possible with the right tactic at the right time and I know you have an idea. Cr’air: If the Federation scan for our ships they will no doubt employ tachyon technology and subsequently find our vessels. As said vessels are not doing anything illegal, the Laudeans have no cloaking technology and a Klingon fleet is also not present then we should react accordingly. :: Merek liked the way Cr’air thought most of the time, but the man could be trying at times even for an amicable commanding officer. :: Merek: I can follow you thus far and would approve if you made your point. Cr’air: I was thinking that we could flood the system with static and other things deemed nasty by their sensors. They will no doubt react and a disagreement will ensue, raising of shields powering of weapons, the D’Entin repositioning herself at the Thunder’s location. I believe the terrans call it sabre rattling. Merek: So now we have one blind and invalid Thunder, still protected by their Bronwyn and no doubt that b**** Chang and many sabres being rattled, pray continue. :: Merek liked where this was heading, though he had to admit not much intelligence was needed to paint the picture. :: Cr’air: We have one ship very susceptible to an antimatter warhead cloaked with the superior cloaking technology that the Tar’rec utilizes. ::smiling :: Her guards are not likely to leave her side and they will not see us strike. One blow and three targets. Merek: ::smiling distantly:: By using the correct materials they will not even be able to ascertain where the explosion came from even after the attack. Cr’air: Indeed. As such they will not be able to lay the blame on us. With the D’Entin close by and her also sustaining damage… well sabre rattling… antimatter explosions it is understandable that a captain opens fire on enemy vessels after such an unprovoked attack and only justifiable that our other vessels rush to her aid. Merek: Very impressive. I see your time spent out here is not being wasted. Too many possibilities to be able to clearly point the finger at us. Very regrettable incident … loss of life… strongly condemn this 3rd party attack … :: chuckles :: See to it, Cr’air a report within an hour. Tag! Commander D’Nal Merek Romulan 3rd Task Force Duronis Sector Simmed By Jaxon Mc Ghee Civilian Advisor Duronis II Embassy Writer ID: E238801JM0
  5. ooc-I'm back. RL had to take priority, but I wanted to read what everyone posted. RL is still a but fuddled, but getting better. Thankfully our CO is wonderful and understanding. This is just a post bringing Ceilidh up to speed. Hope it's okay. (( Embassy Beach Area)) Riverview...life in recent review ::Ceilidh sat at the edge where the grass turns into sand and stared at the water. The slow ebb and flow of the waves as they touched the shore and then retreated held her captive. Time here at the Embassy seemed to be a fickle thing, never really keeping a predictable rhythm. At times, moments passed by as quickly as one blinked, while at others, they seemed to take hours for a single nanosecond of time to pass. The only constant seemed to be the patterns of the waves as they washed up against shore. It was this that kept Ceilidh feeling in sync with the world she now inhabited. The people here also kept her attention, as she tried to understand each one. Coming from a large family, people always assumed that she was quite at ease in large crowds, but the truth be told, she was anything but. Ceilidh appreciated her time alone, her imagination her true source of comfort and confidence. Perhaps that is why she always seemed to just...what was it? Drop from reality as often as she did. Now, sitting here close to the shore with people interacting on the beach, she questioned if perhaps her own comfort within her imagination was truly a blessing of Kerlia, or a curse. Whether curse or blessing, Ceilidh’s mind drifted with the breeze deep within her and tried to fit various pieces of information with the faces and names she was beginning to become familiar with. Your crew was to be your family she remembered some commander muttering one day while she was a cadet in the academy. She never really fully understood that, nor did she want to. She had a family, it was back on Kerelia where it was supposed to be. Those on the ship she would work with would simply be her crew mates, not family. Oh how she had kept that rational of thinking all this time, even up until now. The idea that her shipmates would become her family was an uncomfortable notion for her. Her family was constant, whereas her assignments were not. The idea of constantly starting a new family over and over again was unbearable. Every day Ceilidh was forced to acknowledge and live with the reality that part of her family had been taken from her, and that no amount of wanting them back would ever make it happen. She mourned for the other two who she never got to know. Was retreating into her imagination a way to conjure up what they might have been like? Frazier Stelin T’Lea These were individuals she had gotten to know since she had arrived on the Embassy, but could she call them family? Wasn’t family something that was comfortable, familiar? She had worked with them, even interacted with them off duty in a social setting, but that was it. Would she invite them over to just ‘relax’ and talk together the way she used to back home with her brothers and sisters? Toni Waltas These two flustered Ceilidh and how opposite at times they seemed to be, then the next in perfect sync. They reminded her of the winds just before a storm would hit shore back home. One moment a north wind would swoop in bringing cold air, the next, a western wind would dash in from just off the coast and clash against the north. Moments later, they would seemingly become one and create magnificent fierce storms. But when they got out of unison, heaven beware, for the depths of their emotions were unbridled and fiercely opposing each other. Her new commanding officer and spouse reminded her of those winds. She wasn’t certain if she should be frightened of them, wary, or simply accept the current situation. She had seen them both socially - at their wedding - and then on duty when things got haywire. One a loving parent who provided the best examples of what to remember in life; while the other was split in two, each child at the opposing ends, yet it was easy to see they truly were one before life forced them to grow up. Glancing momentarily from the waves to the prints in the sand at the edge of the water, Ceilidh had to ask herself if she was comfortable referring to them as her family? After all, wouldn’t the commanding officer typically be seen as the head of the family? If so, was this the type of family Ceilidh was comfortable having? Her own parents always seemed to be in such harmony, even when at opposite sides. Could she ever get to a point of comfort where she would refer to them as family? Irena Ceilidh’s aunt was a woman renowned for her passion and joy of life and her temper. She didn’t hesitate to enjoy life and include those around her in experiencing life with her, no matter how embarrassing it might be. Yet, cross her path or her family, and there was no shadow you could hide in where she wouldn’t track you down. If Ceilidh had to call anyone family at the Embassy, it would be Irena. She reminded her of her aunt, and to her, it was a comforting thought, and one she doubted her Aunt Maude would actually mind. This small thought produced a small spark in Ceilidhs memory, as if a wick was finally being lit after such a long time dormant and unused. The warm winds slowly dying down brought Ceilidh out of her thoughts and back into the present. Looking around, she noticed that in the span of 5 minutes the beach had filled up with much of the crew and that people were starting to drift to the left to form some type of assembly. Standing up, Ceilidh dusted off the sand from the crinkles of her clothes and joined the group. There were still so many faces she didn’t recognize, but hopefully over the course of the next while she would become familiar with them. Perhaps it was time to take her eldest brothers’ advice and create her own family where she was, and to not be afraid that if she created a new one that her original family would be forgotten or ignored. It was what their parents had hoped for, that as they got older, they would create their own lives and live them to the fullest. It wasn’t until recently that Ceilidh was starting to understand this. Sure, she had moved away from home, but family had always been there, just back on Kerelia. Yet this had left her lonely, and a sense of emptiness that never seemed to be filled. With understanding comes new challenges...this time to think in new terms of what the term family meant. Ceilidh desperately needed family...heck, everyone did. Turning to face her commanding officer, she hushed as the crowd was addressed. Apparently this was to be a celebration of awards, ribbons and promotions being handed out amongs the crew. Each was fitting, especially the promotions. It was nice to see the crew being recognized by Star Fleet command for their service to the Federation. When her own name was called, not once, but twice, Ceilidh blushed, and honestly didn’t feel that she deserved either of the Ribbons she received. Back in her small spot, she looked over the two and felt the material between her fingers. The ribbons were small, and the material was smooth underneath and course on the front. The Explorer’s ribbon with its hues of blue and yellows, and it’s capital E in the middle, reminded her of her time on the Invicta and those she had served with. The War of Shadows Blockbuster ribbon with it’s brilliant emerald green and single star held her gaze much longer. Emeralds reminded her of home, and perhaps it was fitting that she was now receiving here, on her new home, with her new family. As the presentation ended and the music and food were served up, the introvert within tried to rear it’s head once again. But Ceilidh wasn’t having any of that this time. If this was to be her new family...and she desperately needed one, then she would have to work through her uncomfortable and awkward silence and interact with others...for longer than 2 minutes. Talk about a challenge.:: En. Ceilidh Riverview Diplomatic AttachéDuronis II Embassy - USS Thunder-A ID number: C239209CR0
  6. Lt. Aria Oddas: Vulcan Calvary (( USS Bronwyn, Bridge )) oO You? Great, some sort of ship is out there stalking them. Oo :: It seemed the feeling of unease was justified. :: T’Mihn: Thank you for the sensor adjustments. =/\= Thunder, Egon Spangler found a class five floating canine phantasm. =/\= oO What the heck was all of that about? That can't be an actual sentence. Oo Turner: =/\=Do what? :: pause ::Say Again! =/\= Tiran: If it is the Tal Shiar, the speed is a rational choice. They are traveling at a lower warp speed to avoid detection. If we hadn’t made the sensor refinements, they’d be on top of us without us noticing at all. T’Mihn: Question is, what or whom is their target ,and were they aware of the other vessels demise. I'm guessing they are aware and they weren't theirs or they'd be here weapons shooting in revenge. :: The Commander looked towards the Romulans as if they were going to give some more information. :: Bridge: Response :: The Romulans looked uncomfortable and Aria understood it to a point. There were Bajoran separatists after all and it was never pleasant to talk about them with outsiders. Bajor, of course, had its own history with the Romulans from the Dominion war. It wasn't always pretty but it wasn't as hostile as it appeared to be from some people on the bridge. :: T'Mihn: If Til'ahn is their target, we give them a new one. Oddas: Commander, if I may, our previous plan with the Tachyon scan is still queued up and ready to go. If we were to focus that on the cloaked ships, not only should it knock their weapons offline it should blind their sensors. We maybe able to deploy sensor buoys and make it appear that there are several other craft in formation with us. Bridge: Response T'Mihn: An idea to increase our numbers. Oddas: That's the idea, if the plan succeeds we'd have several minutes before they can cut through the sensor confusion and we'd be able to maneuver and attack at will. Bridge: Response :: The bridge erupted in more alerts and sounds, most of them tactical from the sound of it, as if they needed more tactical news to deal with. For not the first time this mission Aria wondered if she should have become something other than an Engineer, something other than the one responsible for just putting the ship back together when everything went to heck. She leaned on her station and looked at the screen someone had changed to focus on the new source of the new alerts. She saw a ship that was vaguely familiar, the way something out of an ancient text or history text was familiar. She couldn't quite Oddas: What in the name of the prophets is that? :: she blushed a bit when she realized she was speaking speaking out loud. Most humans, and other members of the Federation for that matter, spoke well of being accepting of various religious beliefs, but she had found they preferred it when you kept it to yourself. :: Bridge: Response oO Since when do Vulcans maintain their own warships? Isn't their official government position one of pacifism? Oo Oddas: I'm guessing they are on our side? Three to five is a bit better odds than two to five, especially if that thing is armed the way I imagine .... :: There was a a logic in not sending out a craft like that if you weren't going to arm it to the teeth. Perverse logic, but logic. Oddas had met quite a few Vulcans in her academy classes, it was probably why she was so surprised by the Vulcans she kept running into at the Embassy. The Vulcans drawn to Engineering seemed to be drawn to the logic of machines and the way they fit together to form a working system. Vulcans seemed to view machinery as a puzzle that could be solved, much as Aria did. Of course, they seemed to differ a lot to when Aria would mash unrelated things together to get something brand new or unexpected, even her logical instructors were sometimes caught off guard during training exercises when they found themselves admitting her way would work, even if it wasn't what they had expected. She had liked her Vulcan peers and instructors, they often forced her to calm down and remember that she was in a position to do things right and the people around her were not there to make her like harder. Indeed they had often reminded her that the people around her wanted her to succeed. She knew this new Vulcan ship would be out there and it would be loaded for to help the Bronwyn accomplish its mission, that would be its logical, driven, purpose. :: Bridge: Response Oddas: If we can coordinate our plan with the Vulcan cruiser we potentially have the ability to knock out most of the warbirds, especially if they stay in the sensor shadows. We can help make sure the rescue team has as clean a getaway as possible. Bridge: Response TAG, TBC Lieutenant Oddas Aria Chief Engineering Officer Duronis II Embassy - USS Thunder-A - 70605-A ID number: E239305OA0
  7. Why did you apply to join our community?

    Nice to meet you too, Yasmine. And I can assure you, that you will learn a great deal about Star Trek here. I knew very little about it when I started writing here, and the longer I stayed the more I learned.
  8. Why did you apply to join our community?

    Welcome aboard, Patrick!
  9. ((Beach-Duronis II)) :: The two men met on the beach before the twin suns announced dawn. Inside the Embassy, only the night watch was awake, guarding over its sleeping occupants. Each man was a study of flesh and bone, finely honed muscle and sinew. They were warriors, one human, one Andorian. As they approached each other in the dark, pre-dawn coolness, the Andorian could not see the human smile. He was looking forward to this meeting. He had learned much from Tel-ar when they served together, such as dealing with his rage to become a more disciplined, and more deadly fighter. Hannibal had further sharpened his skills over the years, and, like the Andorian on the beach, Hannibal loved a good fight. :: :: Tal enjoyed the cool breeze coming in off of the ocean. It ruffled his short white hair which was still damp from his swim and carried the scent of the salt water to his antenna. The cool wet sand felt nice under his bare feet and the occasional wave that washed over them had a gentle touch. It suited his mood, the stars fading from sight as the new day approached, just as the young human marine walked towards him. Tal had agreed to this meeting, even looked forward to it. It still had not stopped him from spending the last 3 hours alternating between swimming in the ocean and running along the beach. Even as he walked closer to him Tal could feel that expectation, the need to test himself awaken deep down inside him. :: :: Hannibal was shirtless and barefoot, wearing only a pair of SFMC olive green shorts, Tal wore only a swimsuit the color of midnight. The two men stopped a respectable distance from each other, the roar of the ocean in their ears. It was then Hannibal spoke to his chosen opponent. :: Parker: Good morning, Commander…. Tel-ar: :: Tal waited a few moments before he replied, a faint tinge of light was now barely visible on the horizon and it bleached the sky an interesting tint of red even as he finally replied. :: It is Major. Parker: What’s your pleasure? We’ve got all day if you have the time for it…. :: Hannibal was fresh and was more than willing to be wrestling and fighting with his former First Officer as long as he wanted. It would be a great test of will, strength, and endurance. :: :: The evident eagerness of the man caused a brief hint of a smile to drift across Tal’s face. To be so young, so eager to test one’s abilities. It reminded him of his own past, some of his own struggles even as he replied. :: Tel-ar: Why not just keep it simple and use any and all of the skills we have. After all I am sure that you have some that you want to trot out and test against me. :: Tel-ar was right...Hannibal had learned a few things since they were assigned together, and yes, he wanted to try them out. One thing Hannibal had also learned was to not be baited so easily as he had been in the past. :: Parker: Sounds good to me, Commander...shall we begin? :: Tal took a deep breath, enjoying the way the cool ocean air felt even as he settled himself into a defensive posture. His steel gray eyes watched closely as the marine did the same. :: :: Hannibal watched the Andorian take up the standard defense posture, one which would allow him to spring into any defensive move he chose. Hannibal shadowed him and for a moment, the two men held their positions, frozen in time, neither one ready to give the game away. Each man looked for an opening, a seconds' in attention, none were forthcoming. Hannibal’s breath was even and quiet, the two dancing in the sand, the only sound was that of the rushing waves. It was time for a little good-natured taunting. :: Parker: Well, Commander...are you waiting for an invitation? Tel-ar: Victory is often to the swift but not the reckless Major. I may be many things, reckless is not one of them. :: Even as he spoke Tal shifted his weight, angling his body so that he had more options in regards to both defensive and offensive possibilities even as he lowered his center of mass slightly. :: :: Hannibal was still watching him, not interested in making the first move...at least not yet. Hannibal moved with him, keeping himself squarely in front of him, keeping himself low and balanced. :: Parker: I'm sure Commander...you have heard the term of playing possum... Tel-ar: Some would say that was a clever illusion, others a weakness to be exploited. :: Tal moved suddenly, using his greater height and speed to close the distance suddenly even as he struck with a combination of punches aimed towards the head. He followed this up with a side kick to the man’s abdomen. All of it was designed to force the man to back up, even as Tal prepared for the real attack. :: :: Hannibal saw the rush coming too late, and he was pummelled, driving him backwards. He managed to block several hits directed at him, but Tel-ar landed a solid blow to his nose, and Hannibal could hear the cartilage crunch. The side kick was more of the same, a solid blow. Feeling the trickle of blood running down his nose, and tasting it in his mouth, Hannibal smiled. :: Parker:: nodding:: Game time..... :: This time, it was Hannibal who launched low, sweeping the Andorians' legs out from under him, then spinning in the sand, locking Tel-ar's legs in a murderous leg lock, a position which if Hannibal chose, could painfully dislocate Tel-ar's hip. :: :: Tal recognised the maneuver even as he controlled his fall, the sand cushioning his landing even as he wondered in the man would try for the follow up leg lock. When he did Tal allowed a slight smile to form on his face. Parker had improved. :: :: Releasing it, Hannibal spun away from him, then put some distance between the two...:: :: Even as the marine was releasing the hold and spinning away across the sand Tal was in motion, lifting his legs and rolling back onto his shoulders before he rolled back to flip up onto his feet. :: :: Part of him had wished that Parker had tried for the disabling follow up move, it would have given him a chance to display the futility of trying it against any Andorian, his musculature and the numerous cartilage plates concealed under his skin to protect all of his body’s weak points meant that it would have taken a Vulcan or someone from a species with the same kind of strength advantage to pull it off. :: Parker: You are quick, Commander.... Tel-ar: My unexpected speed has often been an advantage. :: Tal replied calmly, his breathing slow and relaxed. :: Parker: I am a little quicker than you remember.....I've been practicing.....you still kick like a mule.... Tel-ar: Practicing and learning Major are two never ending tasks. :: The Andorian was never quick to give out compliments. Acknowledgement was the best he could hope for, and from him, that was enough. The two men moved at the same instant, each catching each other at the same time with devastating right hands which both found their mark. Hannibal stayed close, pounding the Andorians' rib cage with left and right combinations, then grabbing the Andorian in a crushing bear hug before head butting him and pushing him off. :: :: Tal felt the blows to his rib cage but ignored them, the cartilage plates under his skin and his superb training and musculature allowed him to absorb the blows with no real damage. Tal merely wrapped his long arms around him and squeezed even as Parker did the same but Tal placed his feet and used his strength to lift him off the ground even as Parker slammed his head forward into Tal’s face. :: :: Instinct warned Tal just in time to raise his jaw so that he took the blow on his chin. Parker took advantage of this to slip his arms inside of Tal’s grip and push. This combined with his size, weight and strength forced Tal to release him, however as he pushed off Tal grabbed onto his wrists, lifted one foot up to plant it firmly onto his abdomen even as he threw his body backwards. :: :: As his shoulders hit the sand Tal brought the other leg up to join the first one, then as he continued the roll backwards he pushed out with both legs and released his grip on Parker’s wrists at the same time. :: :: The result was for the marine to fly through the air even as Tal continued the move backwards to land on his feet. As soon as he was upright and on his feet Tal spun, as he turned he could see that Parker had tried to flip in the air and land on his feet. :: :: The sudden ungainly contact with the sand threw up a small cloud, one that failed to hide his contact with the sand. :: :: Hannibal had felt the move, but the Andorian was lightning fast, and as Hannibal spun himself through the air, he caught himself, but not fully as he turned to face his friend. :: Tel-ar: You have spent too much time sparing with humans Major. :: Tal said as he waited patiently for him to recover from the landing. :: :: That much was true. Hannibal was too good and too strong for most of his opponents, and he was light years in skill above them. What he could have used was Tel-ar's drones to train with. :: Parker: Why do you say that? Tel-ar: You forgot that Andorians have cartilage plates woven into the outer layers of muscle over all of their vital organs and major joints. :: Even as he said that Tal could feel something dropping onto his chest and a quick glance down showed it was blood, his blood. :: :: Tel-ar had a very valid point. One must always consider how to attack an opponent where they were weak. Andorians changed the game considerably. Still, Hannibal was pleased that at least, they were both bloodied. :: Parker: Looks like you're leaking..... Tel-ar: You probably did more damage to your hands than to me. :: Tal replied even as he reached up and checked his chin, felt the gash and was able to confirm that was the source of the blood. :: :: Looking down at his fists, the knuckles were indeed raked raw, each streaked with blood. :: Parker: Relatively minor damage.... Tel-ar: Andorian’s, Vulcan’s, Caitians and a number of other species have a denser muscle mass than humans. :: Tal said as he returned to a defensive stance even as Parker walked closer. :: :: Hannibal closed to a discreet distance, just out of reach of the long-armed Andorian. :: Parker: Remember and attack an opponents' weaknesses, not his strengths... Tel-ar: Correct Major. :: Tal replied as he noticed that the distant sky was slowly turning purple and orange as one of the planets twin suns continued its slow climb into the sky. :: Also remember that if faced by an opponent with superior strength, use that strength against them. :: Hannibal watched the sky as well, knowing the Marines would be up soon and headed for PT. He had already told Captain Martinez that should they see he and Tel-ar on the beach, they were not to interfere, as Tel-ar was a "friendly". Neither did Hannibal want an audience, he was here to train, to learn, to sharpen his skills. To do so required a worthy opponent, the willingness to sacrifice pride, to endure pain...and to listen. :: Parker: Understood....which tactic would you consider best? Tel-ar: Aikido is one, the Vulcan art of Shun-wa is another. :: Hannibal was excellent at Aikido, and he knew only a little of Shun-wa. The choice was easy. Painful it would be, but that would be how one learned a new art. :: Parker: My Shun-wa is embarrassing. I take it yours is better... :: Very few would ever hear Hannibal say there was something he was not proficient in, but he remembered his purpose here as the twin suns slowly rose higher. :: Tel-ar: That would be correct Major. :: Tal replied simply. He was not bragging, he spent many hours in training, had spent even more time learning how to fight. He had mastered a wide range and number of different styles, was even rated as an instructor in most of them. :: :: The same could be said of his knowledge and understanding of primitive weapons. Most of this he had mastered long before he had first met Parker. Back before he had gotten married to Lt. Cmdr. Elina Rose Kincaide. :: :: At the sight of Parker nodding in understanding the memories of his disastrous marriage were banished from his thoughts before they could truly form, even as the more pleasant diversion of the day resumed. :: Parker: Let the lessons begin..... Tel-ar: As you wish. :: Tal moved forward ready, even eager….. :: ((Time Jump – Mid day)) :: Tal was covered in sweet smelling floral scented sweat, another unusual aspect of his Andorian heritage. His left eye was swollen, the cut on his chin was bigger, it now constantly dripped blood onto his chest which was streaked with it and matted with sand that had mixed with both the blood and the sweat. :: :: He was not sure but he though his cheek bone was cracked. He knew without looking that he was covered in bruises. He would be feeling this fight for the next few days at least and he was impressed. :: :: Major Parker had indeed improved. The fact that he was still standing was proof of that although neither of them had truly been trying to do the other any real or permanent damage. :: :: Hannibal was drenched in sweat as the twin suns were now high overhead. He had a cut on his forehead, his nose hurt, and every inch of his body was feeling the pummelling he had absorbed.. that was the nature of learning a martial art at nearly full speed. Hannibal had given out his share of punishment and the discomfort and pain he felt only helped him to focus, and he learned his lessons well. It was not pain, in a sense...it was euphoric, the kind of high long distance runners experienced. It was honest, brutal, and beautiful. :: :: Everybody who had ever served knew there were no secrets in the military, and Starfleet was no different. The crowd had started to gather right around reveille, and continued to grow throughout the morning. Only absently did Hannibal know the crowd was growing, but Hannah had done her job in keeping everyone off the beach and out of their way. :: :: It had obviously been, at least for Tal merely a great way to start the day and get reacquainted with someone from his past. Unfortunately they had drawn rather a large crowd, many of them members of Star Fleet but there were also a number of civilians and members of the local military and city police. :: :: This was not the only reason that he was prepared to call it quits for the day. Parker was standing but Tal felt it was more a show of will power than anything else. His breathing was laboured and if anything he was even more drenched in sweat. :: Tel-ar: I think we should call it a day Major. What do you think? :: Hannibal would have continued until he could no longer stand, until his body finally betrayed him. The adrenaline which fueled him earlier was now gone, replaced with grim resolve and pure guts. Tel-ar knew Hannibal would never quit, never surrender, it was his way, and there was no dishonor in retiring after over eight hours of intense, personal combat training. Nodding his head and smiling, Hannibal spoke. :: Parker: I am fine...but I know your transport will be leaving soon...and we have done quite a bit of excellent work today.... :: Tal walked forward towards him even as he spotted a few people push their way out of the crowd and rush forward. He recognized one of them as Parkers wife. As for the other 3 it was obvious that they were medics, however only two of them wore Starfleet uniforms. The 3rd seemed to be either off duty or a local willing to pitch in and help. :: Tel-ar: Your wife is fast approaching on your left. :: He said in a low tone so as to warn Parker without tipping the man’s wife off that he had done so. The last thing he wanted was to get the man into any trouble with his spouse. :: :: Hannibal looked up and saw the blond curly hair of his wife bobbing towards him, leading the pack of others who were coming to render aid, all of which he would refuse outright.:: Parker:: Quietly:: I see her. I'm surprised she stayed up there this long.... :: Tal closed the gap, since Parker seemed more intent on keeping the image up that he was perfectly fine. Tal was unsure if that was for his benefit, his wife’s or the marines that were standing close by and had been watching the last couple hours intently. :: :: Hannibal knew he had to stand tall before his Marines and his wife, no matter how much he hurt. The pain did feel good in a perverse way, a way only understood by men like Hannibal and Tel-ar. There were true warriors, proud even in distress, showing no pain towards either his opponent or those watching. His body knew a completely different, but wonderful story. :: Tel-ar: I enjoyed that rather more than I had expected Major. :: Tal said as he reached out to shake the man’s hand. Tal felt it was the least that he could do since he had given Tal the first real enjoyment of this entire trip. :: Parker:: Smiling as he shook the Andorians' hand.:: It was frakking wonderful, Commander.... :: Just then his wife arrived and threw her arms around him, hugging him briefly as he winced from the contact, then she let go and reached up to touch his face, turning it towards her so that she could look him in the eye. As she did Tal spoke to her. :: Tel-ar: You should be proud of your husband Mrs. Parker. :: Kamela looked at her battered, bleeding husband, and then looked at his face...he was happy. Thrilled, it seemed. Her husband was indeed a unique man, something she did not always appreciate. It was days like this she knew she the warrior she married was by no means domesticated in the least. Looking over at the Andorian, Kamela smiled. :: Allison: I am, Commander..... :: Just then the medics arrived and as expected they interrupted the conversation to fire off 100 and 1 questions at both men. For a short time they did not have the opportunity to speak to each other. Not until the medical staff were finished with their examinations and prognosis. :: Doctor: =/\= This is Dr. Darlene Jones. Beam myself, Major Parker, his wife and Cmdr. Tel-ar directly to sickbay. =/\= ((Short time jump)) :: Tal sat on a bio bed being looked after by a nurse while Major Parker lay on the bed beside him, his wife hovering over him and the doctor and a nurse looking after his various injuries. :: :: Hannibal lay on his bio bed under the rather stern looks of his wife, Kamela. Every time he tried to rise up to sit, her withering look forced him back down. Once the doctor ran down the laundry list of damage both men inflicted on each other, it was quite apparent to the medical staff that the two "friendly" combatants were either crazy or needed more help than they could give them. Once the nurse had finished with Tal, she left to give the three some privacy...but Hannibal knew the Medical Center would be swelled with curious onlookers outside in the waiting room. :: Tel-ar: Major Parker. Parker: Commander..... Tel-ar: Thank you for an enjoyable morning. Parker: That it was, Commander :: Tal reached up and gently touched his cheek. As he had thought the bone had been cracked, the medical staff had told him that even with the treatment they had administered that it would be a couple weeks before it was 100%. As he finished checking it himself Parker spoke again. :: Parker: When does your transport leave? Tel-ar: The Embassy maintenance staff have informed me that my shuttle will be ready for departure by 0930 tomorrow morning. :: That gave Hannibal an idea. :: Parker: Well, that's good. You know, we can practice some more, perhaps after sundown once they let us out of here... :: That was when Kamela laid down the law to both men. :: Allison: That's quite enough, you two! The only thing the two of you are going to do is rest and TALK! No more beating each other up for fun. :: smiling at least for now. :: Turning to Tal :: Commander, I'm not a bad cook, but it would be a pleasure to make you something for your long trip back. Something real and not replicated... :: Tal considered the offer. Under normal situations he avoided any social activities, regardless of the situation. :: Tel-ar: I would not want to impose. :: Tal replied calmly. :: Parker: She is a very good cook, Commander.... :: It seemed even her husband thought it would be a good idea for him to join them and for some reason he did not understand he was inclined to accept. Considering the punishment that her husband had taken at his hands it might be wise to ensure that there were no lingering resentments between the two of them as a result of it. :: Tel-ar: Very well. :: Tal replied as he looked back and forth between the two of them. :: I will accept. :: Hannibal, despite his wife’s protestations, sat up. There were times when a man needed to look another man in the eye. It was a matter of respect and honor to do so. It was not the most comfortable thing he had done all day, but it had to be done. Smiling at the Andorian on the bed next to him, Hannibal spoke. :: Parker: It would be an honor and a pleasure, to fight by your side, Commander... :: It was amazing that although they both served together on board the USS Challenger-A together, they had never fought together. The commander was at his administrative hearing after Hannibal rescued Maya Gemini but killed several Remans in the process. Hannibal was cleared, but he never gave Hannibal a clear answer about if the same had happened to him, what would he have done. Hannibal suspected it all along it would have been the same thing. :: :: Tal considered Parker’s simple but obviously heart felt statement. Given what he knew about him it was not unexpected or out of character. Still, even with that there were times when Tal took risks that bordered on the insane and seeing the two of them together he knew that he could never ask him to do the same. :: Tel-ar: The feeling is mutual Major. :: And in his own way it was. There were not that many people who Tal would want to guard his back in a truly desperate situation. Major Parker had proven himself to be one of them. :: :: Hannibal nodded. :: Parker: You ever need me, Commander, for whatever reason, I will be there.... Tel-ar: I will keep that in mind Major, however I believe that your wife, your family should be your first priority. Take it from someone who failed to remember that and lost it all. :: Even after all this time he had regrets, not that he would have done anything differently, he was who and what he was. Still he often wondered what it would be like to still have his ex-wife in his life. Then again all things considered it was probably best that she had taken the kids and removed them from danger. After all he seemed to attract it like a magnet. The sound of Parkers wife speaking banished these morbid thoughts. :: :: It was Kamela again who spoke. :: Allison: You two warhorses need to get some rest and Commander...our home is open to you whenever you wish... :: Hannibal laughed. :: Parker: You heard the lady, Commander. Our home is open whenever you wish to drop by... Tel-ar: I will keep that in mind Major, :: Tal turned and faced his wife as he finished speaking. :: Thank you for the offer. :: It was then Doctor Jones pulled back the curtain and scowled at both men. :: Jones: You two lie down and rest. Now. :: Shaking her head. :: Sparring for eight hours. Who the hell do you think you are? :: As they both reluctantly followed the doctors' instructions, Tel-ar spoke. :: Tel-ar: I believe we labour under the delusion that we are Starfleet officers Doctor, ones who understand that we need to be ready and trained for any possible danger. :: It was an apt response, to which Hannibal replied. :: Parker: We are indeed... ************************************ Major Hannibal Tiberious Parker Marine CO Acting Chief Of Security USS Thunder-A/ Duronis II Embassy C238703HP0 & Cmdr. Tal Tel-ar Chief Tactical Officer USS Doyle-A, NCC-80221-A darylpeacock@hotmail.com Daryl.Peacock@ontario.ca Tal Tel-ar’s Writer’s ID: T237708TT0
  10. (( Laudean Resistance Vessel, enroute Duronis II )) :: Although the Starfleet ship he was watching approach was the biggest starship he had ever seen, he knew another, more dangerous ship three times her size was currently away. The initial plan was to strike when both vessels were away, ensuring that his fleet would support the ground forces and annihilate the Federation embassy and everyone in it. The thought pleased him, and the vision of a burning embassy and dead Starfleet personnell tickled his fancy. When he hailed the Federation starship, his confidence was sky high...until he saw who was staring back at him...a massive human with eyes as cold and hard as space...blinking once and keeping his composure, Kallaga spoke.:: Kallaga:=/\= This is Fleet Leader Taurik Kallaga of the Naturalist Party. Surrender your vessel. You are outnumbered and outgunned. We will escort you back to Til'ahn where you will remove all Starfleet and Federation personnel from our world. Failure to comply will doom you to the same fate as your other Starfleet brethren. you have fifteen of your seconds before we open fire.=/\= :: Never changing his countenance, he stared at the viewscreen...he had thirty nine ships, more than enough to smash one starship. His first thought would be how glorious it would be to accept the surrender of this USS Bronwyn...and he had been told the starship had been sabotaged by sympathetic Laudeans who had worked side by side with those dogs, unaware that some of their friends had been preparing for this day, right under their noses. The reply he got back only buoyed his mood.:: Parker: =/\= This is Major Hannibal Tiberious Parker commanding the USS Bronwyn. You are ordered to eject your weapons coils and come to full stop. Failure to do so will force me to open fire. This is your one and only warning.=/\= :: Kallaga had expected such defiance from one of the heroes of Bondi. He had heard the stories of the Marine, and this attack was timed when he was supposed to be off world, on Earth. The man seemed impossible to kill, but now, he would have the honor of finally vanquishing the strongest of Vail Daysas' lapdogs.:: Kallaga: =/\= Prepare to die, Starfleet. Once we are finished with you, we will remove your alien remnants from our world. All of you will die.=/\= :: Kallega saw something in the massive humans' eyes, and a cold chill ran up his spine. In his eyes, he saw death. His death, at the hands of the outworlder. He had something in his mouth, something called a ...cigar. He had no appreciation of how large this Hannibal Parker was until he stood up and looked directly into the video pickup, and he reflexively moved back in his chair as the human spoke..:: Parker: =/\= Kallaga....Heghlu'meH QaQ DaHjaj=/\= :: Kallaga had heard the language before...it was Klingon, but he did not know what it meant. It was rumored the massive human was part Klingon, part augmented human, which explained his knack of killing anything in his path. Another reason to eject such hybrid scum from their once pristine world, a world they were going to create once more. Chandra had promised such, and it was Gaev who had delivered them the ships and weapons needed to ensure that future..:: :: Shaking off his sudden chill, Kallaga ordered his ships to arm their weapons and raise shields, Kallaga's fleet closed the distance to the doomed Federation starship. An alarm, a shouted warning, and Taurik watch as the Federation starship opened fire..:: :: The resulting barrage of torpedoes detonated close to his fleet, but the effects were devastating. Alarms were sounding all over the bridge, and shouted voices pierced the air. Panels sparked as Kallaga barked for a report. Several ships were destroyed, and there was a report of another ship which had opened fire...one they had not previously detected. Another explosion close aboard caused his ship to heel hard to starboard. There was only one way out of this, one way to complete the mission before the two starships cut them to pieces...fight.:: :: Trying desperately to rally his surviving captains, Kallaga tried to hail them, but his only response was white noise...they were jamming him. Not only was the Marine fully capable of ground combat, he was also an able and treacherous commander is space. Turning his battered vessel on the Bronwyn, several other fighters joined him in strafing the larger vessel. Several others were firing wildly, trying desperately to hit the other starship which was mercilessly laying waste to his fleet. Unlike the Bronwyn, whose shields were down and taking hit after hit, the other vessel was seemingly spitting fire from the black of space itself, only becoming visible as its phasers fired. The ghost ships' profile was strikingly similar to the Bronwyn, but completely different. Gouts of flame erupted from the Bronwyn from each pass Kallaga made, but to his surprise, the starship was still there, the sabotage supposedly done by the Laudean yard crew was insufficient to completely take the Bronwyn out of the fight.:: :: Kallaga realized too late he was on the end of a losing fight. The ships he had gotten from the gangster Gaev were insufficient for prolonged combat,coupled with the limited training they had received, left him ill prepared for what he was dealing with. The ships packed with the new explosive Gaev had procured on Starbase 118, which were going to be used to pummel the Federation Embassy to dust had been all but destroyed. A surprise starship had proceeded to help the Bronwyn cut his fleet to pieces. He had been buoyed by Naturalist Party leader Chandra Ahismas' words of bringing Til'ahn back to a more natural state of life. Bitterly, he knew the dream was dead. A console exploded to his left, killing his tactical officer. On his viewscreen, another fighter exploded into a ball of duranium and plasma, the Bronwyn flying through it like a vision of hell.:: :: Kallaga was beaten, but he still had a chance to stake his claim for immortality. If he could get out of this battle, he could make a run for Til'ahn, and fullfill his mission...destroying the embassy of the hated Federation. Ordering his helmsman to break off the fight, Kallega headed straight for the Sand Bar...he knew if the Starfleet vessels followed him, they could not fire in the environment of swirling volatile gasses. He didn't know how many ships he had left, but he hoped they saw him making a run for it. His sensors (if they were reliable) told him there were three other ships other than his. Hoping they saw him heading for their homeworld, Kallaga made his move.:: :: His ship shuddering around him, Kallaga was grim faced. His tactical officer was dead, his helmsman was injured, but still performing his duty. Another alarm, another problem...his ships' engines were overheating, and beginning to vent plasma. Despite the warnings from his helmsman, Kallaga dared not slacken his speed. Even as it was, the Bronwyn was pursuing him, and the growing bulk on the screen told him she was gaining on them. Sensors showed the Bronwyn was still without weapons or shields, and he wondered what sort of trickery the toothless starship and its treacherous commander had in mind. His four ships were running full out, one abreast of him and two astern, closest to the Bronwyn. Trying desperately to reestablishing communications with the remnants of his fleet, he watched as the Miranda Class starship moved menacingly closer as they broke out of the Sand Bar and out into space, the blue green of Til'ahn just ahead. His homeworld beckoned him onward, but the hated Federation Embassy was now on the far side of the planet. Ordering his ship to change course, his ship began to make its circuit of the planet to prepare for the death dive into the embassy.:: :: It was then the Federation treachery struck. Kallaga watched his two aft fighters begin to tumble, then slam into each other, erupting into a ball of fire. The battle was long over, but he still had a chance to strike a blow for the Naturalists. Willing his plasma-bleeding engines to hang on a little bit longer, he continued to orbit his world one last time.:: :: The Federation starship had changed course, entering orbit at a much lower altitude than Kallaga. Too late, he saw the strategy. With the starship almost hugging the atmosphere, he was flying a much tighter circle than he was...which also meant the human was gaining on them that much quicker. Doing the calculations with his helmsman, they both knew it would be very close, but they had no choice..they would have to ccross the bow of the Federation starship, one which had no weapons except a tractor beam. He didn't know the range, but he was out of time. They had one mission left, and they were going to complete it. With the Bronwyn bearing down on them, Kallaga began his final dive.:: :: As Kallega started his dive, the bridge began to fill with smoke. An alert tone caught his ear, and to his horror, he knew what that meant. Somehow, the Federation starship had regained its weapons, and launched two torpedoes. It was over. In that moment, he realized the insurgency was doomed to fail, the fiery words of Ahisma Chandra ringing hollow in his head, the dream of alien interference and a more natural way of life gone. Kallaga watched the viewscreen as the torpedo drew closer..to him, it seemed as it were mocking him, teasing him like a child on playground. He resisted the temptation to close his eyes...his promise of becoming the Defense Minisiter over a new world shattered. A quiet peace settled over Kallaga, his fate sealed as the torpedo detonated against the hull of his ship.:: MSPNPC Taurik Kallaga ( Deceased) Resistance Fleet Leader Naturalist Party As simmed by: Major Hannibal Tiberious Parker Marine CO USS Thunder-A/ Duronis II Embassy C238703HP0
  11. PART I (Underground Location - Lokesh City) ::The courier from one of the camps had just given her a piece of news she had been waiting for a choice target. A blue woman, the one from the Federation that had just been on the news feeds had been spotted boarding a hover transport leaving the embassy grounds by the streets they were taking the likely destination the press complex in the cities center. She knew time would be short but this was the right moment the right time to strike first blood. The population was starting to calm down but could be railed back up at the slightest provocation. She was going to light the fire of conflict and violent opposition to the aliens and to the regime of their puppet Vail Daysa. After what she had endured being extradited from the federation prison on starbase 118 and given over to brutal Tal’shair who had experimented on her pushing her feilding to the limit for hours on end until the day the facility had been liberated in the uprisings that followed the destruction of Romulans when her people rightfully expelled the Aliens from their world. Only to invite the federation to replace them and instead of open oppression they were doomed to the slow underhanded manipulation of the Federation whose goal is to integrate all under their flag. Forming a plan she darted into the next room a small number of soldiers were always around her.:: Rena: Who here is the best runner? ::Several of her sworn protectors raised their hands. She looked to the three that did not raise theirs.:: Rena: You three which of them is the true fastest runner? ::There three men all pointed to Lorikson a lanky young man with light green coloration on his face. She waved the boy over to her.:: Rena: You have just been chosen to be a martyr my fine man. You are to be the first to strike a blow at the heart of our enemy the federation! Take these. ::She held up two glowing devices roughly the size of a guyver fruit.:: Lorikson: ::His eyes went wide at the grenades his leader had just placed in his hands.:: What am i to do with them? Rena: Throw them at the blue alien woman and at her vehicle then shout Til’ahn for Laudeans again and again until the police arrive then run. Run and never come back to this city go as far as you can and after a years time you can contact a cell to return to us. ::She knew the boy would likely to be gunned down by police or captured.:: If you are captured take this you know what it will do. ::She tucked a pill into a tiny pocket sewn into the inside collar of her soldiers uniforms. She took a handful of blits out of her side pouch and slipped them into his hand as well:: This is for your journey if you can escape. Go now, carry my spirit in your step and may your aim be true. ::The young man tucked the grenades into his vest and bolted out of the room into the catacombs of the lokesh underground. She turned to the others.:: Rena: Send word to my Lieutenants and have them come here we will wait for news of the attack and plan our next moves. I will be awaiting them in my chambers. ::The men in the room looked at her some with awe some with fear at what she had just set in motion other looked eager to start the fight.:: Rena: Today is a great day for the history of our people. The first day of what one day I hope they will call our second revolution! TBC/TAG (Rena’s Lieutenants) PNPC Rena Leader of Til’ahn For Laudeans Lokesh City Cell As Simmed By Brell HCO officer USS Thunder-A Embassy to Duronis II PART II ((Lokesh City Press Complex)) ::Lorikson stood and waited the white colored transport with the federation logo emblazoned on its side was visible ahead nearing the vehicle check point to access the roundabout roadway in front of the press complex building. Those on foot had no such checkpoint to worry about he crossed the street and headed towards one of the stone pillars arranged around the upper curve of the entry way. He cupped one of the grenades in each hand keeping them tucked in his pockets. He watched as the vehicle pulled into drive it came to a halt at the upper center and it’s side door slid open, he had already stood and moved in about twenty feet away at the base of a pillar he stopped and called out at the top of his lungs just as he saw a blue leg emerge.:: Lorikson: TIL’AHN FOR LAUDEANS! TIL’AHN FOR LAUDEANS! ::The sound of a screaming man drew Lyldra’s attention immediately as he got to her feet she could hear the driver’s door opening on the other side of the transport. The screaming man seem to throw something and she heard a thud the sound of something hitting the ground she saw it under the transport and jumped away from the vehicle. He looked back to the Man still shouting. Crewman McKele jumped back into the transport and closed his door. He hailed the embassy.:: Crewman McKele: =/\= This is McKele we could be under attack, returning as soon as i can get everyone back in the transport. =/\= Lorikson: TIL’AHN FOR LAUDEANS! TIL’AHN FOR LAUDEANS! :: He threw the second grenade right at the blue woman, it landed right in front of her, he had held it a moment after pulling the pin. With glee he shouted louder.:: TIL’AHN FOR LAUDEANS! TIL’AHN FOR LAUDEANS! ::Her eyes went wide at her feet was another rapidly flashing bomb that man had thrown it. Thrown it at her. Fear stricken he did the only thing that came to mind she quickly bent down and picked up the grenade and threw it back towards the shouting man, it hit him on his left shin and it bounced behind him right between the man and the stone pillar.:: Lorikson: TIL’AHN F.. ::His cheers interrupted by the unexpected impact.:: What the…… ::She stood there frozen in fear eyes wide and staring at the man who was looking down for the source of what had hit him. She had no clue where the Major was or the young crewman that had driven them here, It was as if the world around her had disappeared. A second later both of the devices exploded. The laudean man was at the center of the blast and so was the base of the twenty foot high pillar behind him, the base was fractured spraying stone debris in all direction and the rest of the pillar came crashing down toppling to one side. Glass in ground floor of the press building shattered to the floor in blast wave. Screams rang out from inside and from the surrounding area. At the same time the hover transport was thrown into the air and landed upside down a few feet away Lyldra was knocked to the ground hard from the blast coming from beneath it. It felt as if a force had just twisted her legs from under her and she landed hard on her head, her blue blood flowed out from a gash at the impact site and her vision went blurry. All she could see ahead was flames and rubble from the collapsed pillar. She struggled to stay awake, and slowly lifted her head and put her hand to the wound. She looked around and could not see Crewman McKele anywhere. She could see the fiery hulk of what was their transport but she could not make out any details it was beginning to hurt to keep hers eyes open.:: Lyldra: Crewman McKele! Major Pavlova! ::No answer came from the crewman. The sounds of sirens could be heard growing closer.:: Pavlova::Picking Lyldra up as though she weighed nothing:: : Time to go babe. ::With that, Irina started the car and completely ignoring her own injury or the crowd, she accelerated hard and made a fast line to the embassy.PNPC Lyldra FDC Attache Embassy to Duronis II & MPNPC Lorikson Til’ahn For Laudeans Lokesh City Cell As simmed by Ensign Brell HCO Officer Uss Thunder-A
  12. I love to Sim at UFOP: Starbase 118!

  13. Ambassador Della Vetri - Extreme Babysitting ((ZSC Supreme Vigilance, Turbolift)) :: Having left the bridge, Della was using the ride in the turbolift to indulge in what were by this point probably at least fourth thoughts about what she was about to do. Her comment about her mental shielding hadn't been an idle one, and now here she was about to shove herself head-first into what promised to be the emotional equivalent of a fusion reactor.:: :: Not, all in all, one of the things she would have put on her list of "things I'd love to do today".:: :: On the other hand, she wasn't doing it for her *own* sake, and if there was one thing she was reasonably sure of, it was that a horde of children, fresh from whatever nightmare experience they'd just been living, were going to need someone around that quite plainly *wasn't* involved in the business of hurting people.:: :: She had no doubt that at least some of the marines they had around would be utterly brilliant when dealing with kids - it was just not the time to start experimenting along those lines.:: :: The lift doors opened, and she took a deep breath to try and steady herself, shoving every ounce of mental effort she could summon into shoring up the barriers between her psionic senses and the outside world as she started heading down the corridor the short distance needed to reach the lounge.:: :: It didn't help as much as she might have liked.:: :: Even before she'd reached the door, she could feel the emotional blaze on the other side, and it took a concerted effort of will to force herself through. What greeted her on the other side of the door was about what she'd expected, though in far more luxurious surroundings than she might have counted on. It seemed senior Suzerainty officers got to enjoy quite a bit of the high life when off duty...:: :: Far more important than that, though, was the fact that there were quite plainly two groups of people here. Near the door, trying to look as unthreatening as possible, were a pair of Starfleet marines who gave the impression that they'd much rather be a lot of other places. Occupying a large portion of the rest of the room was a, well, horde of Zalkonian children of various ages, giving off an almost living aura of fear, distrust, and perhaps more tellingly, almost totally hopeless resignation.:: :: Another thing that struck her was the fact that apart from the sounds of breathing and the occasional rustle of movement, the room was utterly silent.:: :: Time to bite the bullet...:: Vetri: Okay, first thing I need to ask - is anyone hurt? :: She kept her tone brisk and businesslike, with none of the exaggerated cheer or cuteness that people often put on when talking to children. The merest glance was enough to tell anyone with half a brain cell that these kids had seen too much of the dren life could throw out to be impressed by such a tack.:: :: There was no answer from anyone, but it was impossible to miss the way attention shifted to focus on her even more than it already had. being on the receiving end of that much scrutiny was... uncomfortable, but she pressed on.:: Vetri: No? Good. In that case, we can try and skip forward to the nicer bits. :: She made a deliberate show of shooing the two marines into a corner, away from the kids and hopefully making the point that the guys with guns were not the ones in charge around here. Somehow, and she had *no* idea how it happened, what resulted was an odd little pantomime that had both of the marines sloping off into the corner looking sheepish and for all the world like they were being sent to sit on the naughty step. For that matter, the Caitian one of the pair managed to make his eras and tail droop in a truly spectacular display of fake dejection. :: :: Given the flare of amusement - grim as it was - she sensed from a couple of the kids, the fact the pair of them were playing along without any sort of hesitation at all was definitely helping.:: Vetri: Right, you two sit there, be quiet, and behave yourselves. ::turning back to the children:: Just so you all know, my name is Della, and I'm here to make sure that you are all as comfortable and looked after as we can get. I'll apologise straight away for the fact that things are a little... unsettled, right now, but we're working on fixing that. :: No response at all, which she pretty much expected. At least they seemed to be *listening* to her, though.:: Vetri: Somewhere in this room, I know we have one of these... ::pointing at the commbadge pinned to her jacket:: ...that one of you was given. Now, I'm not wanting it back, I'd just like to know where it is - my friend Hella would probably like it back eventually. :: A subtle shift in the group drew her eye, and she was a little disappointed to see that it was a few of the kids pulling away slightly from one of their number. The reason for it was easy enough to spot, though, glinting in the child's hand. Just as easy to see was the rather disturbing fact that apart from the commbadge the only thing the little girl had was a Starfleet uniform jacket wrapped tightly around her - one she strongly suspected had been donated by one of the Marines, given the colouring.:: :: Any thought at all as to *why* such a donation might have been necessary ws ruthlessly shoved aside, and Della made her tone stay casual as she addressed the little female.:: Vetri: You have it? Great. Keep hold of it for me, would you? You've kept it safe so far, so I think we can trust you to keep doing it. ::looking around:: Also, I think I should say thank you for taking such good care of it. After all, if you hadn't kept hold of it, I wouldn't have been able to scoop you all up and get you here. :: This time, when she looked around the room, she made a bit of a show of just how tacky she thought the overblown decoration really was.:: Vetri: And just as soon as I can, I think I'll see about getting the bits together for you to redecorate in here. I know *my* girls love doing it... especially the littlest. ::smiling at the smallest of the children she could see:: She's about your age, actually. Child: What are you going to do with us. :: Outwardly, Della just glanced at the boy, one of the eldest in the group, as she listened to his question. Inside, however, she practically jumped for joy at the fact that his challenging demand for answers was coming her way at all.:: Vetri: You got a name, kid? Doesn't matter much if you don't want to give it to me, just thought I'd ask. :: With a stubborn set to his jaw, he stayed silent, and Della just shrugged amiably once again.:: Vetri: Probably wouldn't answer that myself, if I were you. No worries, was just being curious. To answer your question, though... ::she pointed at the replicator on the wall:: I'm declaring open season on that thing, just don't make yourselves sick. I'm also going to see about getting some stuff in here to make it a little more homey, so if there's anything you want then let me know and I'll see what I can do. We're not planning to be on this ship for long, though, so I apologise in advance if I can get everything done for you. :: There was some quiet muttering among the group, and Della waited for a minute or so before speaking up again.:: Vetri: I *am* going to need to start getting names soon, I'm afraid. *But*, that's so I can arrange something else for you. You know how grown-ups always seem to be the ones in charge? Well, *this* time, it's the other way around - we have a cargo bay full of adults, and I would *very* much like to be able to find some kids they belong to. That way, I can put them in the care of people who have a decent grip on what the next little while is supposed to be about for you guys. Child: Which is what? :: Somewhere along the line, either she'd gotten used to it or the emotional pressure around her had actually eased. Either way, Della felt a lot less buffeted than she had been when she walked in, and that in turn let the laugh that came out of her mouth sound smooth and easy as she wandered over to the replicator.:: Vetri: You tell me, kiddo. I'm just here to make sure you stay safe. :: Calling up the menu listing on the replicator, she browsed it for a moment, then looked over her shoulder at the children.:: Vetri: Could someone tell me what the heck Vethaberry caramel pie is, and whether it's as tooth-rottingly cakey as it sounds? Girl: It's really nice... but we never get anything more than boring plastic dinners. :: With a sly grin, Della pointed at the young girl and beckoned her over. With obvious reluctance, she obeyed, looking more than a little nervous about what opening her mouth had let her in for. As a matter of fact, that turned out to be far less daunting than she might have feared.:: Vetri: You just volunteered to be in charge of cakes. Go nuts. ::to the rest:: Okay, ladies and gentlemen, we need to at least *pretend* to be organised around here, or this is going to get horribly messy. ::pausing, and pretending to think about it:: Actually, who cares about the mess. Turner: =/\= Turner to Vetri, is everything alright?=/\= :: At the sound of the voice over the comm, everything went still again, apart from Della, who tapped her commbadge to respond.:: Vetri: =/\= That depends. We seem to be trying to decide whether we should work the replicator into a meltdown. =/\= Turner: =/\= We will be leaving soon to rendezvous with the Thunder. =/\= Vetri: =/\= Good. The sooner we're not here, the happier I'll be. I didn't go to all the time and trouble of arranging a planet for these guys to take over just because I was bored. The sooner we get them on their way there, the sooner they can get to the serious business of being *kids*. =/\= :: And the mention of the planet had been quite deliberate. A whole other kind of stillness settled over the children as the import of what she'd said started to sink in, and she could only imagine what the response of the *adults* was going to be.:: Turner: =/\= Do you think you can go organize the adults soon? =/\= Vetri: =/\= Hell no, I'm staying here. Get someone else to organise the grown-ups. I'm staying with the important people. ::pausing for a beat as she gave the children a thoroughly cheeky grin:: They have cake. =/\= :: Or at least they would do if she could get them to actually start raiding the replicator. She'd given them enough hints that it was fine to do so, but so far there had been little sign they really trusted her enough to follow through.:: :: Hardly surprising, really.:: Vetri: =/\= Oh, speaking of cake. If you could arrange for a medic to show their face at some point, that'd be nice. *Someone* is going to make themselves sick, probably me, so having a little help on hand when that happens would be appreciated. =/\= :: And, whilst they were at it, maybe that medic could take a few moments to discretely check the kids for any problems that would need attention...:: :: Actually, that thought triggered another one - one that made use of some very large blunt instruments to get her attention. Given just how raggedy and malnourished these kids looked, what she'd been trying to get them to do was probably a truly idiotic idea. Possibly the very *worst* thing she could do to a bunch of kids so drastically underfed was put rich food into them.:: Vetri: ::muttering:: Crap... Turner: =/\= I'll send the Marine medic. He should be able to take care of them until we can get them to the Thunder's sickbay. =/\= Vetri: =/\= Something just occurred to me. Look, I need to try and figure out what needs doing around here. If you'll excuse the method, I'll just give you a peek at why... =/\= :: Closing her eyes, she concentrated, filtering her way past the various auras the clouded her sense of the ship around her until she locked in on the one she was after. Carefully, she reached out to it in a particular special way, and slipped an image of the children as she'd first seen them into Toni's awareness.:: ::Toni soon envisioned the images of hollow-eyed terror, gastric distension, lethargy, and malnourished and bruised bodies. Tears blurred her eyes, and her medical training kicked in.:: Turner:=/\= Yes, stay with them, but take cake off the menu. Start them on a nourishing broth. It will be easier for them to tolerate food better. I'll be down to check them as soon as the teams are beamed aboard. =/\= Tag Ambassador Della Vetri Diplomatic Officer Embassy of Duronis II
  14. ((Embassy, Ship Yard, USS Akaper)) :: Someone had paid him a favor. An Ambassador had pulled a few strings and arranged for his departure from prison, and the release of his ship from impound.:: :: Why? Was it someone he knew? Someone he owed a favor too? Someone he’d cheated, robbed, or pummeled?:: :: The nine foot tall brute of an alien finished securing the flight station on the bridge, and reached down with his large three-fingered hands to gather his suitcase. Somehow, despite that naturally-occurring lack of appendages within the Shrakian species, he managed to manipulate the fine leather-bound handles between the three huge stumps that were attached to his hands, and then lift the bag with feather-like ease.:: :: As the delicate fabric of the bag bulged more under the weight of the contents, the beautiful flowers sewn into the silken material seemed to stretch out of shape.:: :: Ducking under the low overhang in the doorways, the mammoth creature turned and sealed the bridge one last time. He didn’t know what he was doing on Til’ahn, but he figured it wouldn’t involve transporting cargo, unless it did, and then he’d be happy.:: :: That was usually the extent of his deep thoughts. He was mostly made of muscle, and hide so thick a phaser tickled.:: :: A cold metal hatch of the bridge hissed as it set in place, followed by a “thunk” sound as the heavy lock slipped into its groove.:: :: With a heavy sigh, the pale blue skinned Shrakkian and his giant, flat elephant feet stomped their way through the grates of the deck and toward the exit hatch of the ship.:: :: He may have been sprung from prison, but the work release program was no ticket to freedom, especially with the ankle bracelet strapped to his finger. Why the finger? It was the only limb small enough the device would fit on the ogre beast. He had considered cutting off the finger, but it was difficult enough at times to operate the finer things in life with only three fingers on each hand – two would just make him a klutz.:: :: Speaking of finer things, he lifted his feminine embroidered bag and sniffed the flowers that were hand-stitched into the weave.:: Ceedel: Ahhh… tweely blossoms... :: His voice was baritone and gravely.:: :: And considering that he only took a bath once every two months said a lot about how sensitive his sense of smell *wasn’t*. On a good day the Shrakkian… *all* Shrakkians smelled like foot fungus. Pungent, and ripe with sweat it was natures repellent musk – a natural deterrent to insects, (and most humanoids with a nose).:: :: Those sweet tweely blossoms actually stunk like something rotting on the roadside. He liked it.:: :: Reaching the exit hatch, he rolled it back manually with the strength of one arm, which was astounding considering how much metal screeched in resistance from the weight. The hydraulics to the door had broken a while ago, and the Shrakkian had found that the impossible heft of the outer door was a cheap security system.:: :: Outside of his ship a green skinned beauty was waiting for him. She was armed, Orion, and Ceedel was instantly in love. Or course, he frequently fell in love with every female he laid eyes on.:: :: He smoothed a hand over his big, mostly bald, head, feeling the thick course sprigs of hair prickle under his rough palm, and then he ran a finger along one of the two sharp tusks protruding from his jaw as if that would win the woman’s heart over.:: :: Big, pointy tusks where the pride of all Shrakkians.:: Ceedel: Hello there green goddess. Are you here for me? :: He hoped.:: :: He smiled and his mouthful of latinum capped molars gleamed in the lights. Sadly, she did not seem to be suitably awestruck. Instead, she just looked him over before pointing to the ground a couple of meters in front of her.:: Corsetto: Out. :: As he stepped down from the ship, his sheer mass made the solid ground vibrated a little. One could only imagine what it felt, and sounded like when he ran.:: Ceedel: Happy to do whatever you want. One question… who’s the Ambassador and why am I here? :: It was two questions. He was dumb like that sometimes. He reached back and with a tug from his thick muscled arm, he hulked the hatch closed with a loud clap of metal.:: :: As she watched, Delvia considered whether or not the Ambassador had taken leave of her senses. She could understand the reasons for what the Trill had set in motion, but that didn't mean she thought it was a good idea... and she was even less certain now that she had a good eyefull - and smell - of the result of the Ambassador's machinations.:: Corsetto: She's the reason you're not in lockup. She's sent me here to make sure you don't get... lost. And Ceedel? Ceedel: The Ambassador is a she? She as in female? Mmmm… :: That was the kind of “Mmmm…” that usually accompanied a tasty dish of food that he would soon devour, and dribble down his chin.:: Corsetto: If you try "flirting" with her like you just did with me, she will skin you alive. ::smiling evilly:: And then T'Lea will get to play with what is left. :: The reaction to that name was just plain funny. It was blatantly obvious that of all the things the Shrakkian might have expected, *that* had not been anywhere on the list. And it was a nice little handle for her to play with...:: :: At the name drop, the flat of his feet came to a stuttering stop for a moment, before double-timing it to catch up to the green goddess.:: Ceedel: The Butcheress is here? At the Embassy? Ooo, this may not be so bad after all. Who is this Ambassador female? Will the Butcheress be there? Is this a “job” job? It must be if T’Lea is involved. Is- Corsetto: Perhaps you should stop talking. Answers will come your way faster if you follow me and keep your mouth shut. Ceedel: Heh-heh. I like you, green goddess. And I like watching you from behind. :: He kept his big black eyes on her lovely rear-end, ogling her the entire way.:: :: With a curt gesture, she motioned him to take the lead. She also made no pretence of the fact one hand was resting on her sidearm. Just, you know, casually.:: ((Ambassador's Office)) Corsetto: Your delivery has arrived. :: Behind the desk, the Trill looked up from her console screen and studied Ceedel in silence. He was just as subtle a sight as expected, but she'd known that before he arrived. Sitting back in her seat, she waved him toward the chairs. Not that she expected him to fit into any of them, but the invitation might help him get a little more comfortable.:: :: That was a feeling he was going to need by the time she was done with him.:: :: He wasn’t used to clean rooms unless he was standing in some warden’s office, so it took him a moment to get used to the fancy furniture and decorations. Once his eyes landed on the gorgeous woman with spots it didn’t matter where he was standing, all he could think about was *her*. And then he quickly shook his big horned face free of any naughty thoughts when he remembered the Butcheress was nearby.:: :: He glanced around as if T’Lea would suddenly appear and pull out his tusks for even thinking a single dirty thought about the Ambassador.:: :: After he saw that he was out of danger, he relaxed his big shoulders, and let his frilly bag hang from his fingertips.:: :: Voice all gravel and gruff he spoke.:: Ceedel: Where’s the Butcheress? What do you want from me? Why did you bring me here? Vetri: That's simple enough to answer. You owe T'Lea. :: The Kol-Ma-Ra. It was a promise to T’Lea. It was also his religion to protect and die for the person that had saved his life. And that is exactly what T’Lea had done, knowing full-well what she would get in return. Of course, she didn’t let him know that.:: Ceedel: Yeah… I do. What does that have to do with you? :: He was being aggressive, trying to see if he could rattle the Trill any.:: Vetri: Consider that debt being called in. ::Smiling tightly:: And you may even want to consider what you owe *me* for getting you out of jail. Ceedel: Then where is she? I should be speaking to her, not you, Sprinkles. :: He was referring to her delicious little spots.:: :: Trying to intimidate the Ambassador, he stomped toward her desk, and leaned one of his large fists on the top of the table to lean down toward her. His breathing sounded like a rhino about to charge.:: :: With a shake of her head, she found herself intrigued by the way he was reacting. Owing her, he would cheerfully ignore. Owing T'Lea...?:: Vetri: She's busy. She also doesn't know you are here yet. *I* made the arrangements, and *I* did it for a reason. T'Lea's family needed someone to watch over it, and you... ::smiling slightly again:: You are a criminal, a thug, and a not particularly successful smuggler. You are, however, useful to my fiancée, and I am giving you a chance to earn a little more freedom than you actually have right now. :: Most of what Sprinkles had said didn’t register. After doing so much Peresian crystal dust in his youth, sometimes it took a while for things to get processed in his brain… what was left of it.:: Ceedel: GOFF! You insult me and mine? I could stomp you into the ground and walk out of here with only a stain on my big toe. I am free, tiny little Trill thing. You freed me. That is your mistake. I owe you nothing. Vetri: No, you are out of *jail*. Your ass belongs to me right now, Ceedel. I can have you tossed right back in again if I don't like your attitude. ::her smile turned a lot sharper:: I also hold the rights to that ship of yours, and it's going nowhere at all unless I say so. Just in case you felt the urge to do a little wandering around. Any questions? Ceedel: Wait. What did you say…? :: He had a brainfart – literally if he thought too hard or fast, it caused him to pass gas, which sounded like a dog’s squeaky toy. Something Della could happily live without... and longer, by the smell of it.:: :: This was really not striking her as being as great a plan as she'd thought.:: :: Ceedel dragged his knuckles off the Ambassador’s desk, but the squeaky sound came from elsewhere.:: Ceedel: You and the Butcheress…? You’re doing it? That’s hot! I mean, that’s great. ::he slanted his head:: You are her hoopa then? :: Hoopa was not a flattering term in the Shrakkian language. It meant something along the lines of, “server of pleasure”... Something that Della was aware of thanks to some of the memories she'd carried around on T'Lea's behalf. She might not totally agree with his description... but if it got the idea across to him, without straining that little brain of his too much, then she was willing to go along with it.:: :: For now.:: Vetri: You might say that. Ceedel: Why didn’t you say so! Ha-ha-ha. That changes everything, Sprinkles! We are practically family! :: He walked around the desk to give her a hug and only just stopped short when she pushed her chair back enough to free up some space, one wrist twisting to drop what lay up her sleeve into her hand... and made it abundantly obvious to Ceedel that he now had a small but powerful holdout phaser levelled at his manhood. And above all, she did it with a polite smile.:: Ceedel: Right. No touching the Butcheress’s merchandise. ::he backed off a little frightened:: *Ever*. :: Getting more comfortable with the situation now, he sat his delicately embroidered, stinky, bag on Della’s desk with a loud thump as it’s heavy contents settled inside, and then he sat on the corner of the furniture making it groan under his weight.:: :: Della considered pointing out that she was liable to boot that backside right off of her desk, not to mention the bag that she judged too girly for even T'Sara to want to be anywhere near, but it was obvious that her guest was thinking. This was probably going to take a while.:: Ceedel: Now we can get down to business. What’s the job? Corruption, bribery, blackmail, smuggling, stealing, politics, Oooo… I’m very good at forceful mind-changing applications? :: He balled his fist into the palm of his other hand and cracked is lug-nut knuckles.:: Vetri: Follow me. :: With that, she rose smoothly out of her seat, slipping her holdout back into it's hidden holster, and headed for the office door. Just as smoothly, Corsetto moved to flank her and Ceedel - though she had to wait until the Shrakkian caught up with what was happening.:: :: Off the desk he shot, and grabbed his flowery bag, hugging it to his chest. Clomping his large feet behind Vetri, he ducked under the doorway, and stayed crouched down until he reached the large living area.:: :: Over by the couch was a little girl with blonde hair, pointy-ears and spots. She looked up at all 9-feet of him, and he looked down at all two feet of her. They stared at each other like it was a contest, and then Ceedel blinked and T’Sara laughed.:: Ceedel: Ahh… I get it. Kidnapping. So what’s her ransom? :: Shaking her head, Della shared a look with T'Sara that wondered just how long it was going to take for Ceedel to work out what was actually going on. Images flickered back and forth between them, and she had to fight back a smile at what she was getting from her daughter. Amongst other things, it turned out she was right about the girl's opinion of the bag.:: Vetri: No, Ceedel. Not kidnapping. :: Something squeaked from behind Ceedel again as another fast moving thought finally processed in his brain.:: Ceedel: That’s outrageous!! ::he stomped and faced off with Vetri:: That’s *my* ship! I own it, not you. How do you expect me to provide for my twenty six children without my ship? :: Yeah, it was just now hitting him that Della was the proprietor of his smelly space craft.:: Vetri: *Do* try and keep up, would you? I'm offering you a chance to do just that, Ceedel, without needing to run around the galaxy dodging the law. Are you willing to listen, or do I simply ship you right back where I found you? T’Sara: She go slow, so you follow. :: Della sent T'Sara a quick little frown, appreciating the sentiment but not necessarily the timing. What she got back was a flicker of a tongue being stuck out at her, but nothing more.:: :: There was an audible growl deep in the Shrakkian’s chest, one that was frustrated and confused.:: Ceedel: I don’t understand. If you don’t need me to break any laws or jaws then what else is there? Despite my fine taste in tapestries ::he hugged his flowery bag:: I have a limited skill set, Sprinkles. Vetri: The job is protection. Not running a racket, but actual safeguarding. You will be paid for your time, with bonuses commensurate to events if things don't stay quiet. Interested? Ceedel: Comensu-- ? :: He wagged his head like the word hurt his brain, and then he paused in thought. This time no squeaky noises were heard. Instead it looked like he had simply stopped working. Like the idea of doing something honest had broken him.:: :: His bare chest rose and fell. His black eyes stared into nothingness. His large arms hugged his floral bag like a soft binky. Finally, his lower jaw moved and so did the tusks that were attached to them.:: Ceedel: Hmm… Hrm… mm-yeah, I don’t know what a comensirate is, but bonuses sound good. Who would be my detail? You? I can *do* you, Sprinkles. :: The laugh that came after the innuendo was suddenly cut short.:: :: Della just nodded toward T'Sara, who looked up at him with a considering expression. It was clear she had no real problem with the Shrakkian, even with the smell, and she *certainly* didn't feel threatened in any way by the giant.:: T'Sara: T'Lea my mommy. She want me looked after. Ceedel: ::flat:: Oh. ::three, two, one:: No. :: Now he was getting it. Now it was sinking in. He was to be a babysitter.:: Vetri: And I think you can do the job. T'Lea should be down soon, and should you wish to turn down my offer, then you are welcome to explain that to her. ::smiling tightly:: I'm sure she'll understand. Ceedel: ::flatter:: Oh. ::three, two, one:: No. :: Suddenly he was a man of few words, and even fewer thoughts.:: :: Della just gave a careless little shrug, then glanced toward the stairs just before the sound of footsteps began working it's way down. Raising her voice enough to be clear to the descending woman, Della let some of her amusement colour her tone.:: Vetri: I've got to head out, meet Toni and see what's going on. T'Lea: What are you doing down there? It smells like a diaper! :: She called down from the staircase.:: Vetri: I've just been interviewing a new babysitter. T’Lea: No, I mean it really stinks. Like something crawled out of the sewer—son of a… :: She saw him.:: Ceedel: Butcheress! :: Ceedel opened his arms wide to encapsulate the woman in a hug as she marched toward him, but he was met with a glare that instantly shrunk him backward a step or two, then three, six, twelve before T’Lea caught his retreat by the back of his pants.:: :: He dropped his flowery bag in pain as T’Lea jerked the waist of his trousers up so high they nearly split him in two. The yowl that emerged from his throat was pathetic, like an animal caught in a bear trap howling in agony.:: :: Out the front door he went with T’Lea man-handling him onto the patio deck where she let go of him by the edge of the pool. She didn’t give him any time to turn around before lifting her foot to kick him into the water.:: :: The splash that occurred was tsunami sized, and even though T’Lea did end up catching some of the spray, she still maintained a glare that could peel the blue-gray skin right off his hide.:: T’Lea: What did I say about thinking too hard in my house, Ceedel? :: He flailed in the water until he found the shallow end, and then he stood there soaking wet like a very bad doggy.:: T’Lea: If you want to *think*, go outside. Not in my house, understand? Ceedel: ::nodding shamefully:: Sorry. :: T’Lea glanced to her side as T’Sara and Vetri emerged. T’Sara was looking at T’Lea rather awe-struck and proud.:: T’Lea: Good. ::at Della:: I think this will work out nicely. Thanks. Was it too much trouble? Vetri: Less than you might think, actually. ::studying Ceedel for a moment:: Good call. I was wonderign how to handle that part of the deal... Okay, I need to head off. Call me if anything comes up? And I'll see you both later. :: As Della headed off, after a quik hug for both of her girls, T’Lea pulled T’Sara over by her leg, and rested a very protective hand on her shoulder. T’Sara was mimicking her mother’s very terrifying demeanor.:: T’Lea: Ground rules. You’re going to take a bath every day, and use deodorant, cologne, something to cover up that smell. Ceedel: But it’s my signature scent. It’s what makes me stand out in a crowd. :: He started to climb out of the pool, but the finger she pointed at him said otherwise. And T’Sara pointed one of her own.:: T’Lea: Stay. Wash it off. Ceedel: Fine. I’ll take a… b-bath. See, I’m washing. :: He lifted his armpit and splashed water into it.:: :: Glancing up at her mother, T’Sara made an uncertain face.:: T’Sara: I don’t thinks I wanna swim in there no mores. T’Lea: The Kol-Ma-Ra you owe me. You don’t any more. :: Bubbles emerged from behind Ceedel in the water. He was thinking hard again, and not following what the Butcheress was saying.:: T’Sara: Yup. Not playing in there no more. :: T’Lea placed a hand on T’Sara’s head.:: T’Lea: The life you are bound to protect has passed on – into her. She’s my offspring, and it’s written in your Holy Shrakar Scrolls that a debt of life can be given to the direct descendant owed. You guard her now, and you do whatever your religion dictates to fulfill that debt. :: Ceedel’s shoulders slumped like a heavy weight had been placed on them.:: T’Lea: What? What’s the problem? :: He waded over to the edge of the pool, and looked from T’Sara to T’Lea. The wave that followed him rose over the edge and onto the patio deck.:: Ceedel: I don’t know how. T’Sara: I teach you. T’Lea: Don’t know how to what? Get out of the pool? :: Apparently T’Sara was one step ahead of her mother on this one.:: Ceedel: I don’t know how to protect a child. I’ve never been around one that I wasn’t kidnapping. T’Lea: What are you talking about, you have twenty-four. T’Sara: Twenny-six. Ceedel: Actually, I don’t have any. I made it up so you’d go easy on me. T’Lea: You stupid son of – :: She moved to kick him in the face for lying to her, but the yank on her arm that T’Sara gave her stopped the assault. The little girl actually kinda felt bad for the big ogre, and since she owned Ceedel now, she didn’t want him to get beat up yet.:: T’Sara: I said I teach him. He watches me, and I watch him. It simple logicals. :: T’Lea looked between Ceedel and T’Sara, worried that this was going to be a huge mistake, given the Shrakkian’s lack of parenting experience. Then again, he didn’t have to a paternal stand-in, he just needed to keep T’Sara safe. *That* she knew he could do.:: T’Lea: All right. We will give it a trial run for a week. ::reaching down she grabbed his chin tusk and pulled him closer:: So help me if you frak this up, I promise I’ll kill you more than once. :: She knew how to do that now. Restart a heart, kill it, restart it, and kill it again and again. All that medical training was good for something other than "good" things.:: :: The wet Shrakkian nodded and glanced at T’Sara.:: Ceedel: I think I’m better off with you anyway. T’Sara: Yup. T’Lea: ::relaxing somewhat:: Get dried off. There’s an apartment for you within walking distance of here. Corsetto can take you there. You start in an hour. And Ceedel… :: As he exited the pool his hulking figure amassed a small pond under his feet.:: T’Lea: Don’t flirt with my bondmate again. :: She hadn't heard him do it, but she didn't need to. He flirted with every adult female.:: :: With a firm nod he fetched his bag and lumbered away to find his new home.:: T’Sara: ::smiling:: He’s funny. I like him. TBC --------------- PNPC Freighter Captain CeedelImport/ExportsUSS Akapersimmed by T’Lea & Ambassador Della Vetri Diplomatic Officer Embassy of Duronis II http://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=Vetri,_Della & Lieutenant Commander T’Lea Chief Science Officer Embassy Duronis II - USS Thunder NCC - 70605-A
  15. (( I'Vortau Bar, Lokesh City )) ::Propping the bar up, the hybrid knocked back a dram of Skagaran whiskey and sucked it from his teeth. It was hard stuff. He remembered last having it on Chertan Prime, a relatively unknown planet where drinking was as traditional as having breakfast. A mining colony lived on liquor and it had been a good money maker for the Ferengi conducting the smugglers run. The bartender slinked over, pouring another into the Marine’s glass and leaving the bottle beside it.:: ::Half of the hybrid couldn’t believe the Kerelian was now back on the planet, let alone still breathing at all. There was a whole host of other problems that this was going to drag up, not least of which the very real memory Dade had of blasting said Major’s body out into the ether of space. It would take a lot of red taped bureaucracy to convince him that Toni’s ex-husband was a living, breathing, blood-flowing member of the meat bag club again.:: ::Knocking back the next dram, he remembered the last time they’d met one another alive.:: (( Flashback – Chertan Prime, Beta Quadrant )) ::He balled his fist, pointing at the Kerelian mess in front of him. He fumed. No, that wasn’t the right word. He was on fire. After everything, all the second chances, saved by the skin of his teeth countless times, dragged back from the edge of the abyss here he was, messing it up again.:: Adarnis: You don’t get to be the White Knight, riding in on your fracking horse to save the day again. You gave up that right the last time you left. West: Don’t be so quick to be sanctimonious, Dade. ::he spoke slowly:: Calm down before you do something you regret. ::The point was made. He was seething. His muscles flared with adrenaline. The green jacket attached to the Kerelian was wrapped around his hand in a second. His fist clenched and he couldn’t stop it from slamming into Heath’s face. Blood spurted as his lip split. Dade didn’t care. Heath wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He didn’t retaliate.:: Adarnis: How many more excuses are you gonna give before you give it up, huh? ::His fist landed in his friend’s face again, causing his knuckles to crack as it found bone.:: Adarnis: She was your goddamn wife, you stupid… ::he drew out the word:: …stupid son of a bitch! ::He grabbed Heath by the front of the Marine uniform and drove his forehead home into the Kerelian’s nose. Claret and crimson gushed. Heath staggered back, dazed, while Dade steadied himself. Anger was boiling in his stomach, acid rising. Inside his chest his heart was pounding, his hands were trembling, everything was collapsing.:: Adarnis: You abandoned her, when she needed you the most! When all she wanted was you, you thoughtless bastard… She trusted you! She gave you EVERYTHING… She… She can’t… ::He stopped, stammering out the last few words. In the depths of his heart, he knew it was all aimed at him; the King of his own catastrophe. Every last bitter word of it was another nail in the thumping coffin inside his ribcage. He stumbled on his feet, comprehension striking home, his jaw tightening until stabs of hot tears started at the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them spill over. This wasn’t right.:: ::Heath stood, panting, blood and bruised, watching the pain on his friend’s face with the understanding and the sympathy only a close companion could have. The suffering he’d kept bottled up for so long bubbled to the surface. Walls of that ivory tower were being torn down as the hybrid’s core melted into disarray and he finally accepted what had been feasting on him from the inside out.:: West: You let these… ::he searched for the word:: …Admiral cowards control your life. Do you think they care who they send out there? ::he spat a wad of red on the ground:: They push and threaten and chip away at you until there’s nothing left, then they’ll pick the next one out of the Academy, promise him the world and take it all away. ::The Kerelian touched the short hair of the hybrid’s head, then his shoulder. Words would not come easy between them in that moment and there was no reason to force them. Frayed and sore, Heath slid himself onto the ground beside his friend, an unspoken bond of everlasting brotherhood between them, relaying the words neither of them could say.:: ::Heath looked to the ground, wincing as he touched his throbbing nose, smelling only copper. It hurt, though there was no trace of hatred or malice on his face; only understanding. After a few moments of silence had passed between them, he spoke.:: West: Sometimes I wonder if we’ll ever walk away. ::he sniffed hard:: You know, settle down, get a proper life away from all this. ::Toni and his children flashed through his mind. They were always there; the reason behind every action he made. He could see his princess, looking up at him with sad eyes, knowing that his promises were hollow. He wondered how smart she was getting. He’d messed it up, burned it all to the ground and one day Garth would despise him as much as he did his own father.:: ::And Toni… His heart constricted. How can one life contain so many mistakes? So many regrets? Would Toni ever know how much he loved her? He dreamt in her voice, anchored himself to the memory of her heart beating. No one had ever looked at him the way she had; as though she stripped back every layer he’d ever erected.:: ::Dade squinted up at the sun, resting his wrists on his raised knees.:: Adarnis: This is the only life I know. ::He’d been so angry at Heath for taking up his Marine regs again and furious when he let them take him back out to the front lines of the Delta Quadrant. The fights they’d had when Heath tried to go home… He shook his head, remembering punching him in the mouth a few times for Toni and the kids. He felt like his guts had been ripped out when Toni had got to him first on Tiberius IV. She wasn’t supposed to. He was supposed to lift him out before she found him.:: ::None of this was supposed to happen. Heath should be dead. Dade looked at his friend’s painful smile. It still looked broken. Heath chuckled, sniffing up copper and wet again, trying to clear his nostrils to breathe. It wasn’t the only thing he knew, but it was the only life he had.:: Adarnis: Disagree? ::he shrugged:: Feel free. You’ll find a bloody army in there who feel the same. ::Silence lay between them again. In all the bedlam they’d suffered through together, finding moments to realign themselves in the uncertain world they lived in was rare. Dade spoke first.:: Adarnis: I keep telling myself that it’s one more drop. One more. Then the next one, it’s one more. I don’t know how many I’ve got left in me. ::he exhaled deeply:: There’s a plasma grenade somewhere with my name on it. West: Always makes me nervous when you say that. ::It was true, though. Maybe that was why it hit home.:: ::The hybrid shrugged.:: Adarnis: Knowing my luck, it would probably miss anyway. ::A Kerelian eyebrow raised amused.:: West: What makes you so sure? Adarnis: ‘Cause I’m a cocky pri- ::Heath cut him short.:: West: That’s a nice façade you’ve got there. Cultivate it all by yourself? ::The sun was already setting on the horizon. Heath looked out over the bay, trying to remember when they had spent time together like this, without laying into each other. It was good to feel normal, even if it wouldn’t last. In another life, they were two friends, relaxing in the warm sun, after a barbecue on the beach with their family and friends, talking about the Kino-Net game.:: Adarnis: It’s not what it was before. I’ve fought hard to give this galaxy a bit of peace… And ground my boots in while Rome burned. ::He’d walked through the scene in his mind a million times. He would’ve stayed, told her everything, and took on the world, defying it to tear them apart. In those moments, he had trouble believing that he was the mess she had chosen to be so defenceless with, when a hurricane met an earthquake, had opened her heart to and watched him burn it all to ashes.:: ::Forgetting wasn’t possible. Every time her hands had touched him, lips had kissed him, pushed him, scratched him, baited him, loved him, screamed at him, created that addictive connective spark that had buried itself in his memory, reminding him why he fought so hard to keep her safe. If he could have turned back the years, the anguish and the heartache, the pain and the fear, he would’ve never let her go. The galaxy could’ve exploded all around them, but he wouldn’t give a toss.:: ::Looking at his friend, Heath wondered why they’d clung to one another in the storm. He looked lost, in his own world, behind locked doors that he didn’t let anyone see. The ivory tower had been rebuilt. There had been a change in him. Ever the self-assured jarhead, he was hurt, fragmented. The Kerelian spoke, rousing Dade from his reverie.:: West: I don’t think I’ve ever seen you give up before. ::Now, she was too far away, in every sense. He looked up to the sun, closed his eyes and smiled slightly.:: Adarnis: Would be nice though, wouldn’t it? Find somewhere away from all this dren. (( Present - I'Vortau Bar, Lokesh City )) ::He took hold of the bottle and poured another shot into the glass, knocking it back with delicate ease until it burned his gullet on the way down. He wanted to erase those memories; those fake memories, the visions of how his life was going to be, buried underneath piles of ash and bone, another forgotten Marine with a name plaque on the Memorial Wall back at Starfleet HQ.:: ::That couldn’t happen. It wouldn’t happen. He’d fought too hard and too long for his corner of the galaxy to be free and peaceful. No, in the morning he would run and fight and jump and crawl, and train the next line of defence against an ever modulating enemy that would not stop until it had enslaved every section of humanoid it could get its nanite hands on.:: ::A shoulder crashed into his from behind, a laugh and his whiskey spilled onto the bar, the bottle sent shattering onto the floor. The hybrid rounded, violet eyes flashing angrily.:: Adarnis: Can you not frelling see – ::He couldn’t finish the question as a fist connected with the side of his face with delicate precision that could only have come from a well-trained Starfleet Officer. It sent him backward into the bar, but without hesitation he pushed himself back off and landed a punch of his own in a very large nose. The bar erupted. The hybrid was almost laughing in the ensuing chaos.:: TBC Major Dade Adarnis Marine Officer USS Thunder-A Embassy, Duronis II
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