Lance

Welcome to the fleet Ensign!

((Promenade, Starbase 118)) :: Alexander once again found himself wandering the promenade deck alone whilst his wife, Marissa, was away on a botanical mission to Pedarves Three. Her civilian team had been attached to a Starfleet expeditionary force owing to their knowledge and experience in the field of Xenobotany. Under normal circumstances he would have been left with their son John However owing to the fact that Marissa was liable to be away for several months and Alexander was due to rejoin the USS Gemini when it returned from whatever mission it was away on, the happily married couple had made a decision to leave John with his grandparents back at the Tycho City lunar colony. :: Richards: oO Hrmm, the air temperature is off by about 2 degrees Celsius. I must remember to to make a note of it to Lieutenant Toral before I depart. It might be something as simple as a misaligned coil in the environmental control systems or could be something more serious. I’m sure they haven’t worked out all of the kinks from the interior rebuild following the events one year prior. Oo :: Coming to his favorite bench on the station which, as usual sat empty mainly because of what Alexander considered the soothing hum of one of the station’s massive Plasma generators. He pulled up beside it and stretched his arms, yawning loudly as he did so. :: Richards: oO So little time spent on this station yet so many memories both good and bad. Nice to see some stability in the new CO, Commander Page. There is no way that he can make as much of a mess of this station as Captain Rogers did. Oo :: He let out a little chuckle as he mused on a situation where he found himself knocked from his chair after Rogers had managed to smash a giant aquarium in the restaurant of the same name. His laughter stopped abruptly when he remembered that in the confusion, Solok had been pushed over a railing and for all intents and purposes killed by the fall. Very soon however a smile returned to his face as he recalled the moment the senior staff of the USS Drake stood up for he and his wife after she had been accosted by the door staff at the seedy establishment Rogers had chosen for a promotion ceremony. :: Richards: oO What is it with that man and trouble. It seems to follow him wherever he goes. Oo :: Thinking of other memories, Richards found himself saddened that he had not made the time to meet up with colonel Whale whilst he had been here. From the things he had heard, the man with a tough exterior yet heart of gold was working his charges well. He knew the colonel was a no nonsense man and had every faith that he wouldn’t pass any man or woman who was incapable. :: Richards: oO So many people, so little time left. I guess i just got too wrapped up in my own little world. Oo :: That of course was very much the heart of the truth. To an outside that may have seemed selfish but to those who knew him, they would understand. In all honesty the death of Vanessa Driscoll on Rathos had left him feeling empty and drained. There was now an indelible mark in his brain, a constant reminder of his own failure as her department head to protect her from harm. He had vivid memories of the argument at the mission briefing for their trip to Rathos of himself speaking up, saying just how bad an idea it was to place a mobile lab on the surface. A lab that had been brought aboard by the ships then mission specialist without even consulting him. Yes it was a medical research lab but with the Gemini having no CMO at the time, the final call regarding the lab should have been his. :: :: Of course all that was moot. The fact was that with everything that happened on the surface of Rathos, the fact the away team escaped with only one death was nothing short of a miracle. Every time he came back to it, it always boiled down to solitary thought that rode through his mind, that it should have been him. Starfleet regulations and his disability be [...]ed, it should have been him and not Vanessa on the surface of Rathos. It was a mistake he was never liable to make again. If he found himself in a position where he was the most suitable candidate for an away team, his name would always be at the top of the list. No more hiding, he was a Starfleet officer, a job that came with inherent risks. :: :: Marissa of course knew those risks and was fully supportive of her husband. She had practically begged him, along with his mother and father, to stay in Starfleet, since he had considered handing in his resignation soon after departing the Gemini. There may have been a slap involved, a tearful argument with boiling emotions but logic and sense won through, as they always did when his loving wife was involved. :: Richards oO I seem to recall the term ‘you are not a quitter’. Oo :: Looking out across the sea of smiles Alexander sighed once again. Repairs following the ion storm had been swift. Thankfully he had been at Tycho during the whole debacle but he had heard through the grapevine that things had been tough for a little while. Grek, his boss whilst he had been working as a barman following his resignation from Starfleet many years ago had assured him that it would take more than the events of the past few years to cause him to abandon a most profitable endeavor. Alexander took that to mean that the poor little Ferengi had too many black market investments in the sector to walk away unscathed should he shut up shop. :: Richards: oO At least i still have my source for a certain type of Contraband. Oo :: A chirp from the LCARS panel on his chair brought his wandering mind back to the here and now. He had hoped that it was a note saying that the Gemini was on her way to dock but alas that wasn't to be. The message still brought a smile to his face as it was from his wife. Although short it let him know that despite the massive instability going on in the Galaxy at the moment owing to an experiment gone ary that her team had arrived at Pedarves Three safe and sound and were beginning their expedition. :: Richards: oO Well that’s a huge worry taken off my mind. I think she’s going to enjoy it out there. Oo TBC Lieutenant Commander Alexander Richards Sabbatical USS Gemini​

((Engineering Labs, USS Gemini)) :: Harold was relaxing in one of the Engineering labs of the ship. He couldn’t help but feel useless given the current situation. Since he saw this as part of his down time, he had decided to use it wisely by reading one of the many new papers published in the recent months regarding warp drive. It was becoming increasingly obvious to him that he should probably branch out his certification to include these new fangled Quantum Slipstream Drives. :: Konstava: oO As if I needed yet another reminder that I am getting old. Oo :: Sighing to himself and wondering just where the past 40 years had gone, Harold found himself reminiscing on old times both bad and good. He was so wrapped up in his own little world that he failed to notice the distinct hiss of the door as the Transporter Chief walked in. :: Konstava: oO I wonder how Smitty is finding retirement. Hard to believe it’s going on 15 years since he and I were neck deep in broken wreckage fending off Jem’Hadar. Oo Arisu: Uhm.... :: Beat.:: Excuse me? :: The unexpected interruption nearly had Harold jump feet. It took a few moments for the shock to settle before he composed himself enough to respond. :: Konstava: Sorry, I was a million miles away there, in my own world so to speak. What can this lowly Warp Technician do for you today? :: The fellow CPO’s body language spoke volumes and Harold knew this wasn’t going to be like one of his famous jovial chats with his colleagues. He stood up out of his chair and straightened his posture, adjusting his uniform as he rose. If the fellow non-com in front of him wished this to be a formal meeting, he would certainly act the part. :: Arisu: I have a problem. :: She made an audible sigh. :: Apparently a problem that someone only of your skills can solve. :: Konstava was old enough and wise enough to pick out sarcasm when it was presented. Fortunately for the woman who had presented herself to him, that wisdom allowed him to keep his cool in confrontational situations. They may have held the same rank but he was certainly her senior by merit of the fact he had been serving in Starfleet since her parents were probably in diapers. Pulling seniority was something Harold did not have to very often but if push came to shove, he would do so. He shot the CPO a hard glare whilst answering her statement courteously. :: Konstava: Someone of my skills eh? What exactly is the problem? oO I’ll play your little game. Oo :: Harold could be sarcastic as well, not that he liked it. He considered sarcasm both demeaning and arrogant however, when faced with a colleague such as the one in front of him now he could and would make exceptions. If she wanted to play herself up as all high and mighty, he would oblige for as long as he felt the charade was worth keeping up. :: Arisu: Here. :: The CPO threw the PADD at Harold in a haphazard manner. Fortunately for Harold working with warp cores and their various systems and subsystems had granted him excellent hand-eye coordination. He caught the flying device and promptly turned it once settled to begin reading its contents. :: Konstava: Hm, interesting and most curious. :: He scrolled through the information. :: Should be a simple fix. :: Keeping one eye on the obnoxious intruder who was eating into his very valuable time, he continued to read. Had she actually bothered to pay attention to him she would have realized her next statement was entirely redundant. :: Arisu: We appear to be having an issue with transport during warp.. :: She raised her eyebrows. :: Think you have the knowledge to fix it? Konstava: Quite. :: His patience now having evaporated. :: If you had bothered to pay attention to me rather than worrying about this eating up your precious time you would have realized that not only had I gathered that much from the information on this PADD but, that I also had the beginnings of a solution. :: He sat back down in his chair maintaining his posture whilst turning it to face her. :: Of course I am more than surprised that a Transporter Chief doesn’t have a few theories regarding the problem. After all, even for non-coms like ourselves warp theory and annular confinement beams during transport are required reading. Arisu: ::Face beginning to turn red in anger.:: Your time isn't the only time that is precious. ::She folded her arms.:: The manual states that the confinement beam needed to be boosted in power by almost a magnitude to adjust for the fluctuations during warp. :: Harold was laughing inside. Outside, he maintained his stoic expression as he listened to her words with intent. If he didn’t know any better who would have said that the CPO in front of him was rather taken aback by his statement. As much as he disliked the tone and direction of the current discussion, he had to admire her gumption and resolve. In a way it reminded him of what he had been like in his early days. A part of him wanted to go easy on the poor woman since she obviously had no clue that she had just poked the bear inside of him but, this was overruled by both his own pride and his perceived authority in the current situation.:: Konstava: Well of course that didn’t work. With all the various sub systems on this ship, there isn’t enough power to boost the confinement by that much, at least not with the personnel transporters. Arisu: ::Clenching her teeth.:: Instructions that I had on this matter did not mention these limitations. I am the transporter chief, not ::She paused for emphasis.:: the chief engineer. Konstava: You see that’s your problem. Out here on the fringe, we have to often think outside the box and come up with unexpected solutions to what in ordinary circumstances would be benign problems. When you’ve lived as long as I have, completed as many tours as I have you’ll understand this to. :: A broad grin crossed his face. :: At first it may seem like the cargo transporters are entirely unsuitable but, with a little bit of reprogramming they can do exactly what you are trying to accomplish. Time consuming? Of course it is! But it will solve the problem without risking lives or damage to the ship. :: As Harold handed her the PADD he looked her directly in the eye with a look that would cause most to run a mile. He very much felt like he was now in control of the situation whilst serving up plenty of life lessons into the bargain. It wasn’t often that Harold Konstava could be labelled as arrogant yet this was one of those times. It appeared his fellow non-com brought out the worst in him, something he would definitely have to relate to Hannah and Katelynn over a very stiff drink. :: --------- CPO Harold Konstava Warp Specialist USS Gemini As simmed by Lieutenant Commander Alexander Richards Sabbatical USS Gemini

Welcome Ensign Matthews!

Welcome!

Welcome to the Fleet!

Welcome to the fleet guys!

Welcome!

(( Security Office )) Atimen: You've done a god job Smithson. ::break.:: I'll look into it further, see what caused the analysis to come out that way. But for now, enjoy your leave. Smithson: Yes Sir ::she was about to leave when she had a hypothesis, turning around:: Sir, I have just remembered something and now thinking about it, this makes no sense. ::beat:: We find two cloaked probes, initially we thought they were cloaked ships ::beat:: they begin to move away a Tholian ship shows up, they move further away and one explodes. ::beat:: I know Sir that what I done also blinded our sensors for a short time, this would have been more than enough time for the other cloaked probe to be moved out of scanning range. ::beat:: Moreover Sir, what was the Tholian ship doing in Federation space! After all in the past Tholian’s have always played by the rules, theirs ours or both, I think this is the first time they behaved irrationally and not obeyed any form of Protocol. ::beat:: do you think that not strange Sir? ::she asked:: ::Atimen looked at her curiously.:: Atimen: It's in its nature for the status quo to change. ::beat:: Don't worry too much about it, and focus on enjoying your leave. I don't know when we'll get any more of it. Smithson: Very well sir, I shall leave that disturbing supposition with you. ::She left as Atimen turned to head into his office, sighing slightly. He needed this leave badly, but he doubted he'd get to take advantage of much of it.:: (( Chief of Security's Office )) ::Atimen lay crouched over his console, head leaning against his propped up arm as he stared at the screen. He hadn't had time to setup the office like he'd really wanted, with multiple screens and a few holo-emitters, but he'd get there eventually. He was looking at the computer logs, the computer analyzing everything from comm-data to advanced data modifications and displaying anything out of the ordinary.:: oO Could the Grendellai truly create such an advanced virus? Oo ::They weren't known for being good with technology, or advanced enough to even attempt something like this. The nearby One Kingdom was still greatly lagging behind on that aspect, and the Grendellai weren't even organized. Though this attack could be proof that that has changed.:: ::The lists scrolled by, Atimen eyes focusing one as it moved. He paused the analysis, pulling himself fully upright. A communication from Eren to Security while Atimen was on the Gorn vessel. It was tagged due to a slight corruption error on its data header, which the computer saw as a possible fingerprint from the virus. He loaded up the detailed information, which included the message contents.:: Atimen: ::He cursed silently, at the message itself rather than the corruption. He jumped to his feet, muttering as he stormed out of his office.:: That lazy... (( Security Office )) Atimen: MULLER! ::Muller nearly fell out his chair, the console going haywire from his feet skittering over the controls.:: Muller: Sorry Sir! ::He stood up, snapping to attention.:: It won't happen again. Atimen: Oh, I know that. ::Atimen mocked. He tapped his commbadge.:: =/\= Atimen to Johnson, you've been re-assigned to office duty. =/\= ::He turned back to Muller, who stood behind the desk, pale. He hadn't seen Atimen this mad before. Not many people had.:: Muller: Sir...::He began slowly.:: If this is about me putting my feet up... Atimen: You've got far bigger problems than a simple scolding. ::Johnson entered the room, Atimen nodding to him as he turned to enter his office.:: ::Atimen stood behind his desk, his chair pushed against the back wall. Muller entered meekly, standing before the desk, his eyes on the floor. Atimen spun the computer monitor around for Muller to see.:: Atimen: Does this look familiar? ::Muller looked up, gazing at the screen. His stare seemed... detached, like he didn't understand what was happening.:: Muller: It is the log of a communication from Ensign Eren to security. Atimen: It's Lieutenant Eren now, and yes, yes it is. However the contents concern me more, specifically since you responded to that comm. ::Atimen looked Muller straight in the eye, his gaze piercing through the man's soul.:: Now, can you remember what Eren told you? ::Muller couldn't keep the gaze, his head dropping as he looked at the floor.:: Muller: She warned of a saboteur on board... ::He muttered quietly.:: Atimen: And what did you do? ::Atimen interrogated, as Muller remained silent, opening his mouth slightly.:: Muller: Nothing...::beat.:: I did nothing... Atimen: Were you ordered to remain silent? Muller: No... Atimen: Did you simply forget to tell me once I got on board? Muller: No... Atimen: Then why didn't you inform your superior officer about a direct threat to the safety of this vessel? ::Atimen asked, taking a step back from the desk.:: Muller: I didn't think there was a threat... ::Muller whispered.:: This ship is buggy and small... if there was a saboteur on board, we'd know. I just thought engineering was trying to push blame. ::Atimen leaned forward, his hands planted on the desk.:: Atimen: That is not your job to decide, Muller. It's mine. Your job... ::Muller looked up.:: Your job is to follow orders and protocol, something that you seem incapable of doing. You show up to your shifts late, you openly nap or day-dream, you mock other officers including myself, and you're just plain incompetent! No matter how many times I yell at you, no matter how many times I tell you to get your *** in gear, you still keep it up. ::Muller stood there silent, his eyes back on the floor. Why... why was this happening to him?:: Atimen: Luckily, those traits are currently working your favor. ::Muller looked up with a glint of hope in his eye.:: Were there an actual saboteur, you'd be number one on the list of possibles. You're going to be a person of interest in the investigation into how we were infected with that virus to begin with as well. ::beat:: However, as I have no proof other than you neglecting your duties and withholding information, you aren't being arrested... Muller: Is that all, Sir? ::He hoped.:: Atimen: No, not even in the slightest. ::Atimen paused for a moment, thinking deeply.:: As it can be thought of as a simple oversight on your part, unless we can find something linking you to the virus, I doubt you'll have much to worry about coming out of this fiasco. However this does not mean that there will not be direct and immediate consequences. Muller: What kind of consequences...? Atimen: Your shore-leave privileges have been revoked. ::Muller's eyes grew wide.:: oO There we go... Oo Atimen: Oh, it gets worse. You don't get to just spend time with the skeleton crew while everyone's on leave, but instead you get to patrol the station. No socializing, no relaxing, patrolling. ::Muller mouth nearly dropped in shock. Atimen could find no better punishment. He would have to walk by as his friends and co-workers enjoy themselves, unable to join them.:: Atimen: Consider this your warning, Muller. I don't know what is happening out there, but someone wants us hurt badly. ::Pause.:: Badly enough that we may have to openly take up arms, whether in a war or not. I am going to need every single member of my staff ready, and willing, to serve. I cannot risk having you or anyone else slacking off, wasting time, or neglecting their duties, not when there are lives at stake. From the way you act, it's like you want to be discharged. Muller: I'd prefer not to leave the Tiger, Sir. Atimen: Good. Then, like I said, this is your warning. Get your act together, Petty Officer, or there will be worse consequences than just a few days of missed leave. ::Atimen turned slightly, straightening a pile of padds on his desk.:: Atimen: Dismissed. Muller: Thank you, Sir. ::Muller unfroze, spinning around and nearly sprinting out of the office. The door slid closed, Atimen collapsing into his chair. He hated that, so very, very much. He liked things to work, just like they should. People like Muller, people who don't try at all... thinking the status quo will never change; thinking they'll get by just fine with as little effort as possible, they infuriated him. He had talked to Muller before, and he had potential... but at this rate Atimen would have him transferred out before he'd finally grow up.:: ::He needed his staff badly, now more than ever. Muller may be a slacker, but he still knew the Tiger and the crew, and that made him more valuable than a fresh recruit.:: Atimen: ::Muttering:: He'll get his act together... -- Lt. Atimen CoS/CTO USS Tiger

Children of Planet Mistique The birth of life is the beginning of death, what more is there to know? A miracle had been brought upon a woman and a man on planet Mistique one day. The good doctor said that he was impotent and that she could not have children. However, to both their surprise, such a happening did occur and they were happy. They spoke of always treating the child well and no harm could occur to him. Pain receptors are placed throughout the body to distinguish bad stimuli from pleasurable stimuli. However, only being exposed to one could cause warping of the mind. The child was to be named Brye. Growing up was easier for him than most due to the increased wealth of his parents. During school he always received high marks and had many friends, but some of the children said that there was something unusual about the boy. They whispered and talked. There was one who spoke more than the rest. His name was Fayru. Speaking of others can harm or hurt a person in more than one way. Regardless, sticks and stones may break bones, but words destroy the pride. Joy! Exhilaration! Upon Brye reaching high grade, speak arose of new technologies that would lead to travel beyond which has ever been seen before. With these advancements, governments began sending people to places never gone before. Before the sky was mystical and unknown, now research could be done. This left Brye to try for bigger and better things. He wanted to be the first in the new field, and so his mission began. Speed, velocity, and swiftness are all significant words for movement. But is it possible to move too fast? Years went by and then someone new came to see the civilization grow. They were the Federation, bringers of science and medical advancement. Brye yearned to become a member and in a couple of years it was so. Starting on the USS Civility, the child slowly developed into a man. Choose your fate, become who you want. Woe to those who choose incorrectly. While Brye grew in ranks, Fayru had a much harder time. One was optimistic and brave, while the other leaned towards being a pessimistic coward. A Lieutenant was born while the other remained Junior Grade. Names circulated as Fayru became Junior, the nickname he despised. Brye was the enemy now. Go faster, faster! The words are spoken clearly. Little do they know that they are unable to stop. It had finally happened, Brye was a Captain. Many rejoiced and were proud, no more so than his parents. A vessel was commissioned, the USS Last Hope. Its declaration was clear, to go and help those who needed it the most. It was said that Junior Fayru would also be assigned there, for Brye was the only officer who could stand him. Words are a great weapon when used correctly, but beware the consequences. Slowly Junior Fayru grew in ranks again. Starting off as an engineering research assistant, the day came where Lieutenant Fayru was known. Engineering mastermind many said. However, to those who knew him well, said there was something a bit off about him. It was unfortunate that Captain Brye was unaware. Pain, agony, and torture brought upon the wretched. Who will be harmed in the cracking of the fragile mind? The sadness could not be expressed in words to those affected. The USS Last Hope died in space, although the cause could not be traced. The woman and man cried themselves to sleep in loss of their son. Little did they know that a different set just shrugged it off. Fayru was a mistake and caused more trouble than he was worth. Death is required for life to come about, but is it always necessary? Walking to the graveyard, the man and woman were old now. Flowers brought and put upon every grave, except the one they wanted. The USS Last Hope remained in space. The bodies remain, but not rotting. If anyone had cared to look, they would have found something unusual. On every face of every crewman there were expressions of shock and horror, except one. By an engineering console Fayru had a mad smile on his face. It was fitting for the Flying Tomb that lay in the wasteland of space. -Fin

Perfect topic for my idea, I can't wait to implement it.

Just curious, but shouldn't have voting on this ended a while ago?

Sorry, but I can't seem to indent the beginning of each letter in the forums. Guess you will have to read it as is.

Dear Little Stanza, Greetings and wonderful music to your soul. I know as your Leading Tune, I should be helping you grow and develop. However, work continues to pile up faster than notes on a sheet. The Musical Science Institute requires that I stay and do my work here. Remember, I do this work for you and the future. Just think of the possibilities! There will be much to learn and even more to explore! Before I finish this letter, I must ask you how your studies go. You should be a fourth bar this year, correct? Have you finally found new friends? I know that Harmony moving away was a distress to you, but worry not, there are more than enough rhythms to go with a rhyme. How is your mother and father doing? My sister has always been a closed music box, but that doesn't mean that you cannot go out into the world and make a name for yourself, for you are never too young. Now to my deepest sorrow I must end this letter, my conductor is a bit off key if you understand. Don't tell your mother I said that! Awaiting your reply, Leading Tune Cantata Dear Leading Tune Cantata, I miss you! I am sorry about the long delay, but postage costs a few weeks allowance! I want to be selfish and have you here, but I cannot. I want to live up to your expectations as well as mom and dad's. I just don't understand what all of you expect of me, I am just a normal underscore on planet Chord. It will be because of your research that all of us will be able to live happier and more musical lives. Next time you send me a letter can you tell me about your research? I want to see what you are doing being as you are too far away to visit. Which reminds me, I am a fifth bar this year! I can't believe you forgot. Mom and dad are alright, just defensive of me. It isn't very much fun to be the middle underscore, weren't you one Cantata? Big etude Cymbal always beats me up and little drum Chant won't stop bugging me. I know I am supposed to love each of my ensembles, but I will bet that you didn't have it nearly as badly. How did you find out about Harmony? Did mom tell you about it? I was sad at first when she left, but I moved on I promise! I have felt depressed lately, but the sky plays the same notes as the day before and I know that I will always have you Leading Tune Cantata. I look forward to hearing your musical words again! Missing you, Not so little Stanza Dear My Forever Young Stanza, I am sorry to hear about the gloomy sonnets that seem to follow you around. Cheer up, for the world never plays the same song twice. Are you sure that you want to hear about my research? I know that you miss me but finding about my work will help you very little. Due to your insistence though, I know it wont hurt you to know just a little bit of my daily life. My Chief Octave Maestoso has me working on faster than sun sound speed. With this technology completed, everyone on planet Chord will be able to spread their music too all areas of the endless music sheet. This research may not be completed in my lifetime, but you Stanza will be able to experience it all. To my sadness there has been talks of... no, you must not worry about such things Stanza. Behest it to know that I am here and well. I will not reveal who told me about you and Harmony, but suffice it to say that as I said before, I am here to lead you in the everlasting music, even if I cannot be there physically. Now I do remember my fellow ensembles as I grew up, and no, being middle underscore is not the worst thing in the world. You may not want to admit it now, but by being nicer to your ensembles than they are to you will make you a better person in the long run. There are few things that will better teach you be a humble person than a harsh older etude. Your little drum may seem to be annoying now, but have you ever listened to his compositions? Take these lessons and keep them in your soul, for they will treat you well later in your everlasting music. I may not be able to reply to your next letter until you are a seventh bar, my young underscore. With Greatest Love and Music, Leading Tune Cantata Leading Tune Cantata, Why won't you reply Cantata? The everlasting music is even worse than before! All of my friends have abandoned me! My ensembles are worse than ever and know you say that you will not be able to reply for two Symphonies? I... I... I want to be able to talk to you, to hear your words, but I feel as if you have abandoned me. I know tears will be on this letter when it is sent, but I truly appreciate the fact that you told me about your work. It does not improve my situation but I know that you trust me, which is more than I can ask for. Why won't you tell me the whole story? You tell me that something is wrong, but you do not want to worry me? Is this the reason that I must wait more than a Symphony for you to reply? My hand is shaking, the music seems out of tune all the time now. What can I do to have you back? I will do anything, anything! Please... please respond Lading Tune Cantata. Wishing Every Day For Your Reply, Little Stanza for as long as you want Accursed Tune Cantata, I hate you. I hate everything about you. I wish that I had a better Leading Tune than you. Mom and dad are horrible to me and the ensembles will never stop. Tomorrow I will leave my home. I am going to run away from it all. Maybe the other Opera's will treat me better than here. I am moving to Jazz or Blues, I do not ever want to hear from you again and I hope you die. With Hate, Big Stanza Leading Tune Cantata, It has been a while since I sent my last message, but I cannot express my sorrow for my actions. I am now in the middle of sixth bar and I have grown to be a much more mature person. After running away, mom, dad and both of my ensembles were sad. I made them sad, and I never ever want to make them feel that way ever again. Now that I am older, can you tell me more about your work? I realize now that all I want to do is go out to everyone on the endless music sheet. I have been doing well in my studies and my teachers say that one day I could work at the Musical Science Institute! Since the incident, Cymbal has become nicer to me and it turns out that Chant says the most wonderful compositions. Everything is right in the everlasting music and I would not trade it in the world for anything, except to maybe see you once again. With Greatest Apology, A more mature Stanza My Growing Psalm Stanza, I will admit that I was hurt by your words before. For a while, I had to hold back my tears. You have learned your Rhapsody though so I forgive you. For all that you have learned, remember that you don't know everything and cannot expect me or anyone else to know all the answers. Since you do indeed worry about me, I shall tell you more about what is happening here. There has been a break in the duet in the Institute. They have been offering threats for a while, but no one could surmise that they would move to another Opera, especially that of Jazz. We do not know what knowledge has been taken with them, but Jazz may do something to our home Opera. Do not let this worry you too much, for it is just a conjecture. Sadly, my research has ended on faster than sun sound travel. All of my work has been put towards defense from Jazz. I am glad that all is well with your fellow ensembles, I knew that it would all work out in the end. My work must continue, but do promise you will continue to be a good person. Forgiving You, Leading Tune Cantata Leading Tune Cantata, I am sure you already know, but we have been evacuated from our homes. Dad has been called off to be a Requiem in the Solo army. I miss him as much as I miss you! What work could possible cause everyone in a Opera to leave? Leading Tune Cantata, please tell me more. I need to know what is happening with Jazz. I promise to be a good person, if there is nothing that would please me more, it would be to make you and dad happy. Why can't we all be together so that the music sings stronger than ever before? Hoping You Can Reply, Stanza Dear Stanza, They won't do it. I hope they won't do it. They have the Quadrille Destroyer. It will devastate planet Chord if they send it, no one will win. The music will be in pain forever. I cannot lie, but be safe! Protect yourself, protect who you can. Live to sing another day. Yesterday, I revived word about your father's finale. I am sorry, but it will be too late for me when you receive this letter. My Love is Imprinted On Your Soul, Leading Tune Cantata Leading Tune Cantata, It.. it... it... is over. I am writing this inside a mountain in the Piano mountains, or what is left of them. Mom.. mom she died. Little Chant wont stop coughing. Cymbal just sits there, unable to speak, I fear that she will die soon. I know that you will be unable to read this letter. Your premonition was too true. The Musical Science Institute was the first to be hit. I hope you are singing the loudest up there with mom, dad, and maybe all too soon my ensembles. You always spoke to me you did this all for me, but no one else would listen. It was lost under the trumpets of other Opera's that were as selfish as I once was. They were all but underscores, underscores that were too young to carry the weapons that they wielded. What is it that I inherited. Was it the pain of Planet Chord? Was it the fury of Jazz? It is a wasteland out there and I have caught the deadly cough as well. I know you want me to go out and bring hope to the few that is left, but my song is too weak. I Miss You, Stanza

((USS Severn, approaching the Eratis system)) ::The cogenitor was tired. After leaving her last ship, Greekle was a bit sad to see all of her friends go. When she was younger, it took her adoptive mother hours upon hours to calm her down. Now she was off again, her mother was transferred to the USS Tiger.:: oO There isn't anywhere to explore! Oo :: Her mother was on a different part of the vessel, most likely gathering information on where they were headed. Unfortunately, this left a 9 year old child in the middle of a vessel that to it, wasn't very interesting. She began swinging her legs back and forth on the seat, soon interest was lost. All that was around her was a Vulcan, seemingly lost in thought. Greekle frowned.:: oO The last Vulcan I tried to play with kicked me out of her lab! Oo ::Learning from her lesson last time, Greekle tried to avoid bothering the Vulcan. However, it was quite the temptation to ask all sorts of questions. Luckily, before believing she was going to explode, the Vulcan turned to her and began talking.:: Salak: I trust you had an agreeable journey from Starbase 118, Mr Greekle? ::The cogenitor giggled, technically it was neither a Missus or Mister. What it did find funny is that it was referred to as mature person, by a Vulcan to boot!:: Greekle: It was quite boring actually. There isn't many games to play. Ohh, ::Her eyes lighting up.:: do you know where the tah..tah... Tigger ::mispronounced:: is? ::The child temporarily distracted by something outside the window. However, its attention returned when the Vulcan began speaking.:: Salak: The Tiger is currently docked at Deep Space 17; that is where we shall meet it. Greekle: Deep Space Seventeen? oO There are seventeen Deep Spaces? Oo Salak: Yes; first person plural. Lieutenant Commander Salak; Second Officer. Agreeable to make your aquaintance. Greekle: Oh, you are an officer like my mommy! ::The cogenitor quickly remembered its manners that its mother taught him so well.:: Greekle: I am Greekle, Mister Salak. Nice to meet you! Salak: Indeed. ::The cogenitor was pleased, not only was this Vulcan friendly, but he also didn't kick him out of his seat.:: Greekle: So... how long do you think it will take to get to Deep Space? Salak: Estimated time of arrival is in seven minutes, forty-one point eight six three one seconds. ::The cogenitor sighed, to it the time seemed like an eternity.:: Greekle: Thats no fun. I think that if I have to stay here for much longer I will die from boredom. Salak: We won't be staying here for much longer... ::The cogenitor's eyes quickly lit up.:: Greekle: I have an idea, how about we play a game! Salak: A... A game? I fail to see the logic. ::The cogenitor looked at the Vulcan in the eyes and smiled.:: Greekle: Why silly, there is no logic in fun. Salak: I am a Vulcan... I do not have "fun". oO Oh no, I judged him wrong. This pointy ears is just as cranky as the last one. Oo Greekle: If you say so... ::Greekle sat back as the pointy eared one made a call.:: Salak: One moment please... =/\= Deep Space 17, this is the runabout U.S.S. Severn, registry NCC Seven Two Niner Two One, requesting landing clearance. =/\= ::Although cautioned by his mother to never ever eavesdrop, Greekle couldn't help but listen in.:: McLoughlin: =/\= We cannae allow that right now Severn... Station's under quarantine. =/\= oO Quarantine? That means there is a sickness going around! Oo Salak: =/\= Understood. Moving to holding orbit. =/\= ::to Greekle:: Seems we have time for your... game after all. What do you propose? Greekle: Sprouts! Salak: I fail to see what small green vegetables have to do with anything? ::The cogenitor smiled, it didn't look like pointy ears recognized the game.:: Greekle: Its easy to play, let me show you. Salak: Agreeable... ::Going into his "Homepack," a backpack of random items that he carries around, Greekle pulled out a sheet of electronic paper. Pulling out the tray in front of them, he laid out the paper and began drawing a star with approximately thirty dots.:: Greekle: This is how it works, you draw a line connecting two points then draw a dot on the line you just drew. Greekle: Winner is the one who can't draw a line anymore. Simple enough? Salak: Deceptively so... ::The little cogenitor smiled, although the game was simple. Winning it was quite the opposite. Each move had to be thought out before moving to the next. A winner was usually seen with seven or eight turns remaining.:: ::Greekle grabbed a coin with a tribble on one side and a Klingon head on the other from his Hompack.:: Greekle: ::Preparing to flip the coin.:: Heads or Tribble to go first? Salak: ::unfamiliar with coins:: Heads or Tribble? ::Greekle looked at the confused Vulcan, trying his hardest not to laugh.:: Greekle: See, when I throw the coin in the air, It will land either Heads or Tribble. If you guess right, you get to go first! Salak: I am not aware of a Tribble on this craft... ::This time the pressure was too much. The cogenitor giggled.:: Greekle: No no, Silly Salak, its what is on the coin! ::Greekle handed him the coin, showing both sides.:: Salak: I... see... Greekle: ::After getting the coin back.:: So, think you understand everything now? ::Before the Vulcan had a chance to respond, Greekle's stomach began to rumble.:: Salak: A drink before we begin? Greekle: ::Blushing.:: Yes... I should have something I guess. Salak: Any preferences? Greekle: Don't worry, I have something here. ::The Vissian began rummaging through its homepack. Many things including, vials, dolls, and electronic parts fell to the floor. After a few minutes, the cogenitor made a gasp of victory. Putting everything back into it's homepack, Greekle sat back down with what looked to be two juice boxes and some antipasto.:: Salak: Your "something", I assume? Greekle: Mommy always packs something for me when we leave. I have a ::Trying to mimic its mother.:: "notoriously loud stomach." Salak: Indeed... ::Greekle quickly remembered that his mother always told him to share as well.:: Greekle: ::Offering a juice box and some antipasto.:: Do you want some? Salak: I am agreeable... ::remembering his own manners:: Thanks. ::The cogenitor stopped drinking its juice when the Vulcan spoke again.:: Salak: Kal-toh... oO A toe? Oo ::Greekle remembered her old friend Calso. He was a little older than him and tended to get injured easily. Just before leaving her last ship, Cal tripped on one of Greekle's pranks. His bottom still hurt from the spanking his mother gave him after that incident.:: Greekle: ::Stuttering because he thought the Vulcan had found out about the incident.:: W.w.what about Cal's toe? Salak: Are you familiar with the puzzle Kal-toh? oO A puzzle? Oo ::The cogenitor's eyes lit up understanding that Mister Salak was talking about a game.:: Greekle: I love puzzles! ::The cogenitor hadn't expected to play a game that was unfamiliar to it. However, it was either play this Vulcan's game or be bored for the next eternity!.:: Greekle: Well, I have never played this before. Can you explain to me the rules? Salak: We look for the seeds of order, in the chaotic pile of t'an. T'an are the playing rods. ::The Cogenitor silently listened to the rules, its attention rapt.:: Greekle: And how do you find out who wins? Salak: The discord morphs into order. ::Something seemed awfully familiar about this game to Greekle.:: oO Sounds like... Oo Greekle: One sec... Salak: Of course. ::The young vissian quickly began sorting through its homepack again, pulling out a completed Kal-toh.:: Greekle: Do you use a Pookie Ball ::Indicating the Kal-toh.:: for this? Salak: That would be a completed Kal-toh. Greekle: That's what it is called?! Salak: Affirmative. Greekle: I found it in a junk shop all broken, so I fixed it, but then it broke again... Salak: Quite probable. ::The Vissian was glad that it at least knew what the game board looked like at least now.:: Greekle: Well, since I have the board, you can go first! Salak: If you think that logical... ::The game began, and the child was surprised about how much fun it was having. Time dwindled on as the Kal-toh slowly took shape. After a while, the cogenitor gasped. The game was over!:: ::The little cogenitor had won the game. However, it didn't really care about winning, playing the game was reward enough.:: Greekle: Wow, Mister Salak, you are good! Salak: Not good enough, it would seem? Greekle: It was fun! ::The cogenitor began to prepare for another game when Salak's commbadge went off again. Again against his better judgement, Greekle listened in.:: Thelev: =/\= DS17 to USS Severn. =/\= Salak: =/\= Severn here. Agreeable to hear you again Commander Thelev =/\= Thelev: =/\= Good to have you back with us, Commander. Good trip? =/\= Salak: =/\= It has been... unusual. =/\= Thelev: =/\= It sounds like you've got a herd of Grox in there with you. =/\= ::Greekle laughed, a herd of Grox wouldn't fit in here!:: Salak: =/\= I have a nine year old civilian as a passenger. We are... playing games. =/\= Thelev: ::smiling at the thought of the Vulcan coping with an impatient child:: =/\= Oh? I'd imagine that's a barrel of fun. Anyway, the quarrantine isn't officially over yet but we've developed a cure so I'm clearing the Severn to dock on deck 327 - just steer clear of the first promenade for now. Unless, of course, you're happy to stay out there for a while longer? =/\= Salak: ::Almost before Thelev had finished:: =/\= We shall be docking at earliest convenience. =/\= oO Aww, Mr. Vulcan doesn't want to play with me anymore. Oo Thelev: =/\= As you wish, Commander. DS17 out. =/\= Salak: Greekle, can you watch... ::pointing at a part of the console in front of the child:: ...that control there, and tell me if it flashes? oO Is he trying to get rid of me? Oo ::Nodding his head, the cogenitor obeyed and began examining the console.:: Greekle: I can do that. ::Stepping over to the console, he began looking at the lights. After less then a few minutes, the child lost concentration and began looking outside and saw Deep Space 17.:: oO Its so huge! Oo ::Remembering its assignment, Greekle looked back and saw the red light flashing.:: Greekle: Its flashing Mr. Salak! Salak: Cutting thrusters... ::Looking outside the window, Greekle saw that they were docked inside of the space station.:: Greekle: We are here! Salak: A logical deduction. Closing window shutters. Ready to disembark? Greekle Civilian USS Tiger