Sal Taybrim

Omega Gloriously Hammy Acting, FTW

A brilliant little passage into the IDIC variety of species in the galaxy:

Courtesy of Prudence Blackwell... words to live by:

When a random idea on Discord becomes an adventure... ((Starbase 118 - IKS Yan – Unlisted Shuttebay 14)) Yael: ::trying to lighten the moment:: Give me a few minutes before you send in the Marines. He took his non-standard phaser, slipped it into his decorated vest, and headed into the vent in search of whatever it was. It was a bit more snug than even a Jeffreys Tube, but he was trim enough that he could manage, and it was wide enough to possibly turn around… maybe. The smell was terrible on the bridge, but was concentrated in the vent. Ashley tried not to think about it too much and just breathed through his nose… he didn’t want the *taste* of whatever it was in his mouth. Crawling, he could barely fit in the vent… there was more space side to side than there was up to down, so he made his way somewhat slowly. It was darker now, and getting darker… he tried not to breathe too deeply, but it was hard not to be a bit claustrophobic in this sort of place… reaching into his pocket on his vest, he produced a small multi-tool and activated the small flashlight. He held it in his mouth as he moved. The smell was worsening, and he shuddered as he turned a slight left corner in the vent. It was *RANCID*... and smelled of death, or disease. His instinct was to stay away, but he needed to clear it. Finally he came upon… something. Another slight left turn in the vent, and there it was. The rotting husk of a targ. He nearly vomited at the sight of it, but kept the contents of his stomach *inside* his stomach, by some matter of willpower. It was probably one of the most *gross* things he’d ever seen. Live targ were gross enough, furry, and dirty animals, with hardly a friendly feature. This one was a starved husk that had partially melted into the grating in the “floor” of the vent. Yael: ::his nose wrinkling in disgust:: Ugh… Pulling the phase pistol from his vest, he checked his settings, made sure it was on a high yield, took aim with both hands while braced on his elbows, and fired a single long shot at the mass. It lit up with the power of the pistol, and over the course of two seconds completely disintegrated. All that was left was the stain on the grate beneath where it had laid down to die. Sighing lightly, Ashley lowered the phaser and his gaze, glad to be rid of one small problem in the line of problems… And then yelped in shock when something grabbed his ankle. Instantly his body jerked in response as he kicked at whatever had hold of him, and his head smacked into the vent above. Grunting, looking quickly down past his body in the vent, he swung the phaser to aim down the length of his legs ready to shoot whatever it was, and found… with his heart in his throat… Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He breathed hard for a solid moment, eyes darting in the low light from the multi-tool that had fallen to the grated floor of the vent, searching for movement or hostile shapes and finding none. Nothing. There was nothing. He had to get out of here. The smell was obviously melting his brain. Tucking the phaser back in his vest, he reached a hand up to rub the back of his head while cringing at the throbbing pain. Yael: Oww… freaking Klingon ship, trying to murder me… Carefully… gauging just how capable he was of doing it first… he turned round in the vent. It took a bit more stretch than he was comfortable with, but he was able to do it. Then he made his way back down the vent. He’d made two slight lefts to get here, so he needed two slight rights to return. Though, in the darkness, he *knew* where he was, his stress level was rising. He didn’t want to end up a desiccated body stuck in an endless array of vents like that poor targ had. The light began to reflect down the shaft as he got closer to his entry point, and then he saw the point of light that would lead him back to the command center of the vessel. As soon as he broke through the vents open hatch he took a deep breath, the air on the bridge far less repulsive than that trapped in the vents. Pushing his upper body free first, then pulling his legs free behind him, he stood and brushed himself off. Yael: ::in a muted tone:: Well, *that* was exciting… ::to the others:: Some poor targ decided to get lost in the vent. Probably a foodstuff left behind when the vessel was taken out of active service. McLaren: ? Yael: Incinerated what was left of it. Hopefully the air begins to clear. ::giving their team leader a smile:: It’ll improve morale, if nothing else. Blackwell/Parvana/Zel: ? ~*~ Ash Rogue Merchant & Opportunist Lieutenant JG Ashley Yael Counselor Starbase 118 Ops C238211TZ0

A wonderful little character study, well done @Ashley Yael! ((Starbase 118 Operations - Counselor Yael’s Quarters)) Ashley set about a few things at a rapid pace after leaving his meeting at the Black Tower. First, he canceled his appointments for the foreseeable future, making certain the other counselors knew to take on his cases. He hated leaving them to take on the brunt of the work, but it was for a mission after all, so it was necessary. Next up, he gave a call to the base petting zoo and arranged for them to take Feazel. He wasn’t sure if that would be permanent, but he certainly couldn’t leave him without care in his quarters for an extended period of time. The Denobulan lemur glanced at him as he said his name… the petting zoo staff agreed to take him in for the time being. He did warn them he wasn’t *quite* domesticated yet… though he wasn’t quite as face-clutchingly clawtastic as he was the day he’d arrived. Next he requisitioned several items from medical… first, a dozen emergency med kits, and a complement of portable medical equipment, including a full bio-bed with a surgical dome and body scanner. One bio-bed was better than nothing, and since it was all portable and not directly integrated into the ship systems, they could excuse the Fleet technology as a black market purchase. He also made a point of having sub-dermal communicators prepared in injectors. They wouldn’t be able to use their normal communicators, but they may need a way to discreetly communicate. Injecting the team could be his first medical duty. He arranged to have all the gear transported directly to the Yan. After that, he set about packing a few things for himself, and replicating some clothing. Off came the uniform, everything that could identify him as an officer or Starfleet was dismissed. He needed to look the part of a semi-successful merchant… but still be functional. After putting some thought into it he finally got the combination he was going for. The only item he didn’t discard was his electro-stabilizing wrist braces. Couldn’t do without those… but they weren’t Fleet-specific technology. Dressing, he pulled on a pair of snug black pants. The material was leather-like but still quite comfortable, with a laced-down pattern running down each side from hip to ankle. Next he pulled on a pair of black boots that appeared simple, but they were made of a luxurious Terellian leather. They gave him an extra inch of height, having a thick, ridged sole. He made sure to add just a little scuff to the boots, to make them look not-quite brand-new. Next he pulled on a black button up collared shirt, which had a bit of formal flair down the chest, and slipped on a decorative red and black vest atop it, buttoning it down. It was embroidered with a classic Denobulan pattern. Finally he buttoned the wrists of his shirt, a double cuff decorated with amethysts that were almost as pale as glass. Ruffling his hair and sweeping it forward somewhat haphazardly, he made certain it was a bit more care-free than his typical well-kept look… he was glad he’d been growing it out. It looked much less “Fleet” this way. Overall, as he took a look… he looked *expensive* and somewhat formal, but not stuffy. The look of a relatively successful merchant with an eye for the finer things, without looking extravagant or overly wealthy. For good measure, he raided his stash of latinum, sliding several strips into the hidden pockets on the inside of his vest. He lifted the last item he’d requisitioned and had replicated. A set of rather pricey looking wire, frameless eyeglasses… which were actually a wireless smart computer. He could interlink with it using pre-set eye movements, or verbal commands, and he could link it with any unprotected computer system. Definitely not standard issue gear… he set them atop his head in his hair, and the slightly iridescent sheen of the screens reflected the color of his hair. It had limited processing power, but it was just the sort of toy a tricky merchant might use for his benefit. Finally, he used an ankle brace to hold a small medical hypo-spray close to his skin and hidden beneath his pant leg… the daily medication he had to take. Not something he could do without, but something he didn’t want to advertise... or lose. Standing, he smoothed down the vest. Overall… he was definitely liking what he saw in the mirror. If he went to work at counseling like this, no one would take him seriously. But for a rogue merchant on a commandeered Bird of Prey? It was random, individualistic, functional… and as far from Fleet as it got. He had one more stop to make… for cosmetic alterations. Making his way from his quarters to the Promenade, he found the tattoo shop and stepped inside, quickly getting the attention of the artist who was unburdened by a client. Yael: I need a few piercings. He pointed to the end of his eyebrow just at the upper arch before his facial ridge began. Yael: One here. Then he lifted a hand to his opposite ear, gently gripping the curve of his inner helix. Yael: And three smaller ones here. All amethyst. The artist eyed him curiously but didn’t ask questions. Thankfully the Human woman was fast at what she did. Four quick stabs of pain later, and tolerating the small touches required to get it done, he had four new piercings. Nothing he couldn’t have healed up when they returned home. For good measure, he had a semi-permanent tattoo done… a thin line of black liner added to just the top of his eyes, adding a touch of glamour, he thought, and completing the almost-ostentatious look he was going for. He was quite pleased with the overall disguise, actually. Now he just had to *act* the part. Paying for the cosmetic service and giving the artist a smile, he walked to the nearest transporter and had himself delivered to the Yan so he could get the lay of the Bird of Prey's, and place the emergency med kits in a variety of vital points. ~*~ Lieutenant JG Ashley Yael Counselor Starbase 118 Ops C238211TZ0

>.>

((I just love the interaction and reactions here ❤️)) Taybrim: Janul alone is not enough to ensure full attendance. But… we can force that hand. ::he paused and offered gravely.:: I am going with him. There was a clatter as a PADD hit the floor, a reaction that was entirely justified as the CO of the station proudly announced they were ready to go careening into the afterlife. DeVeau: I’m sorry...come again? McLaren: The Commodore will be going with Janul. Tatash couldn’t help but chuckle, it was the sheer insanity of the situation, mixed with somehow the total lack of surprise in the Commodores course of action that was actually quite amusing. Tatash: Classic.

what an incredible yet creepy mental picture of an impending conflict:

I just love seeing cross-ship JPs. Lovely sim ladies! <3 ----------------- ((Starbase 118 Ops - Jalana’s Guest Quarters)) Since Alora hadn’t gotten to sleep until past dawn, she had spent the rest of the morning sleeping. After a few hours, however, her body insisted that she get up, far too used to keeping a certain rhythm and schedule. Because it was shore leave, the day offered up opportunities to do some more pleasurable things, such as introduce herself to people she hadn’t had the opportunity to really meet very well other than a quick greeting at the party, if that. One such person that came to mind was a certain Commodore who was visiting the base. As she was wont to do, Alora did not go empty handed. Perusing her vast array of african violets, she chose one from a cluster of recent babies, selecting the one that had at least a couple of blooms, then made her way out. Down the corridor, into the left, back into another corridor, the scientist turned First Officer made her way through, smiling at those whom she met on the way. Eventually, she came to the doors of the intended and pressed the button that would spur the computer to chirp and alert the occupant of her arrival. As soon as the doors opened, she stepped inside, her smile lighting up her face. DeVeau: Hello Commodore Rajel. Jalana had enjoyed the party. Just like many other visitors of the festivities she had gotten to bed late. And what a bed it was. It was not standard like on the ship, but more cozy. Having enjoyed the comfort, she now enjoyed a lengthy breakfast that she luckily didn’t have to cook, replicators were magical inventions for the cooking impaired. Just when she bit into a bread roll the door chime went off and so she rose from the chair and headed to the door. As it opened a woman was revealed that Jalana had seen the night before. A bright smile appeared on the Trill’s face, her green eyes sparkled. Rajel: Alora! Please, Jalana is enough. Formality isn’t necessary. DeVeau: Excellent. Jalana it is then! Like the commodore, Alora had never been big on formality. Oh yes, there was a time and a place for it, but in a situation like this, she was more inclined to drop the titles and rank. She was glad the Trill was of the same mind. Rajel: I am having breakfast, care to join me? ::She gestured for her to step inside if she wished:: Ah breakfast. It was late enough it should really be called lunch, but considering she was likely just breaking her fast, the name was appropriate. At the invitation, Alora’s stomach instantly sent a pang of hunger, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in quite some time. Well, she’d come there to spend some time with the woman and get to know her better, and this afforded a grand opportunity. DeVeau: Why thank you, I’d love to. Drawing further into the room, Alora made her way over to the little table and helped herself to a chair. Before allowing herself to partake of any food, however, she held out the pot which she’d carried all the way from her own quarters. It was of an off weight hue with mottled brown all over the body. The insert was of a more solid brown, coordinating nicely with the base. Settled into that insert, however, was a much more colourful occupant. Bright, crimson petals grew naturally in the shape of a star with a brilliant yellow stamen smack dab in the center, a golden heart to that stellar flower. Broad, smooth-edged leaves of a medium green sported lightly quilted lines and stretched out beneath the flowers like a fuzzy carpet. DeVeau: I brought this for you, if you’d like to have it. I can send you detailed instructions. Jalana followed Alora to the table and looked at the offered plant with surprise in her eyes. She had not expected to receive anything and her whole face lit up. Raising the pot she leans over it to inhale the scent and realized the flowers itself didn’t have one, so all she smelled was the soil, which. A subtle pleasant scent. Rajel: These are beautiful. What are they? DeVeau: It’s called an African Violet, a plant from earth. They’re popular house plants, are easy to care for, and quite beautiful. Keep them happy and they can bloom up to nine or ten months out of a Terran year. Rajel: How wonderful. Thank you so much. They will find a special place on the Conny. DeVeau: Not a problem. I’ll have those instructions sent to you by this evening. With a smile she took another look at the flowers, and set the pot aside on the table carefully. She loved color and that would add some to her quarters. She would make sure to look at the instructions and if necessary ask Sherana for first aid. Or call Alora. She gestured to the chair and took one herself. Rajel: Please feel at home. ::She chuckles:: It is more yours than mine anyway. Just take what you like. Alora peered over at the food that was available. Did the woman replicate all that, or have a place deliver it? Either way, she had a little bit of meat and a lot of carbs. Plucking a bagel from the tray, she took a knife and spread a thick layer of cream cheese over one half. Rajel: So how do I get the honor of a visit? DeVeau: I have a habit of doing this, actually. I like meeting new people, and since you aren’t posted at ops and I’ve never had the privilege of serving anywhere with you, I thought I’d come say hello. I hope that’s not a problem. Rajel: Not at all. I like getting to know new people and make friends all over the galaxy. ::She grinned:: Have you been on the station before you became First Officer? The Trill reached for her bread roll she had taken a bite from before, some cheese and ham waited for the next bite. A wish she gladly granted. Alora’s eyes twinkled. Yes, making friends all over the galaxy. In that, they were the same. DeVeau: I enjoy making new friends. I was assigned to Ops in the middle of last year. The First Officer thing wasn’t until a couple of weeks ago. No matter how many times people mentioned it, no matter how many times she talked about it, no matter how many times she looked at that red collar, Alora still felt like it was not quite real. Rajel: Oh all fresh then. ::She grinned brightly:: What have you done before? DeVeau: I’m a Science Officer...well, was a science officer. I’d actually just become Chief of Science just a couple of months ago. Nijil’s departure was rather sudden and unexpected, and for some strange reason, Sal picked me. Rajel: Another blue collar, lovely. ::Smiling:: Knowing Sal, he had a good reason. You obviously have made an impression. DeVeau: Either that or I’ve somehow managed to fool him unintentionally. So you’re a scientist as well? Alora laughed softly, then allowed herself a bite of the well slathered bagel. The cream and salt of the cheese just went so perfectly with the dense earthiness of the bread. Savouring it, she studied the redhead across from her. Rajel: I’m a medical Doctor, I know it’s technically teal not blue, but teal is a shade of blue so who cares. ::chuckling:: I never imagined I’d become a Co to be honest. Did you expect or plan finding your way to the First Officer’s seat? DeVeau: No and no. Was never expected, never planned. Sal just sort of sprung it on me. And then immediately tossed a ton of intel into her lap. That had been an interesting day. “Getting her feet wet”, indeed! DeVeau: Honestly, I would have been happy being Chief Science Officer for the rest of my career. That’s where I always saw myself - forever in blue. Not red. Rajel: Ah, quite a surprise then. ::She reached for her cup, the steam of the Jestral tea floating above it as she pulled it close.:: And now that you are in red, any plans on taking your own command? DeVeau: Oh no, I will definitely not ever seek to be a commanding officer. ::She paused a moment as she allowed herself another bite. :: A smile washed over Jalana’s face, it sounded like Alora was quite sure of what she did not want to do. Rajel: Then what are your plans now? ::She finally raised the cup to take a sip:: DeVeau: Maybe I’ll stay First Officer, or maybe I’ll fail dramatically and Sal will take on someone else, but...for the moment, I’m just going to my best to support him and fulfill this role. I just… That sounded good, though of course Jalana wouldn’t be Jalana if she would ignore that last little bit that Alora has interrupted herself. Rajel: You just? Fingers played over the unspread surface of the bread and Alora gazed down at it. DeVeau: I just don’t want to fail Sal. I joked about it, but I really don’t want to let him down. Jalana placed her cup back on the saucer on the table, before she cut a croissant in half. She enjoyed trying out food from all over the Galaxy and this one was quickly becoming a favourite of hers. Rajel: What makes you think that you could let him down? DeVeau: Honestly...I’m just not sure about this role he’s put me into. Since I made the decision to apply to the Academy and join Starfleet, I knew what I was going to do. I was going to be a scientist, and my ultimate goal was to be Chief Science officer. Alora picked a crumb from her bagel and idly popped it in her mouth. All her life, she’d been that way. Confident in what she was going to do. When she saw something she was interested in, she jumped in, both feet first, never afraid to get her head below the surface and immerse herself completely. DeVeau: I reached that goal, then got shuffled around, and finally reached it again here. Then, suddenly, Sal’s telling me Nijil’s leaving and he wants me to be First Officer. I guess it’s just odd. I’ve always chosen what I wanted to do and aimed for it. This time, I wasn’t the one doing the choosing. The Trill spread some butter on the two halves and then added some cheese and jam before placing the halves together again. Rajel: I cannot speak for Sal, nor do I know your skills, but I believe he chose you for a reason. We as COs usually choose who we believe is best for our ship, or station for that matter. ::She looked up to Alora with a warm smile:: that does not change that you are nervous about it of course. DeVeau: It’s weird. I guess I’m just...not used to feeling so uncertain. I mean, I’ve been nervous before, I guess, but never like this. I guess I’m worried that maybe I’m not the right choice, that I’m going to wind up messing everything up. Rajel: ::chuckling:: I still have times when I’m not sure if I am doing the right thing, but this isn’t about me. I can’t tell you what to do, how to do your work, but what I can tell you is, that doing your best and putting your trust in Sal teaching you what you need to know, is a good start. DeVeau: There’s another problem. I feel like he shouldn’t have to teach me. That I should be able to handle things without him putting more work on his plate. Jalana reached across the table to pat Alora’s hand. Rajel: He wasn’t a Commanding Officer from the start either, he knows how it feels to be a new First Officer. You are a team and you will do fine. DeVeau: Thanks for the reassurance. Alora smiled and finished off the half of her bagel which she’d been slowly working on during the conversation. As she chewed, she picked up the second half, slathering an even thicker layer of topping onto it. Yes, she liked a little bagel with her cream cheese. DeVeau: I didn’t know Saveron had become a first officer until we reconnected around Christmas. I imagine he’s an excellent one. Rajel: Oh yes. He was just promoted around Christmas, so you actually got a timely update. He was a temporary FO for me before and he did a really great job, so when my First Officer left, it was just natural to ask him. If anyone would be a natural, it would be Saveron. Vulcans in general were stereotypically calm, cool, and collected. Saveron, however, had something more. Even though he was a Vulcan, there was just something about him that made him stand out, that made him a perfect choice. Although Alora couldn’t exactly say what it was if she were asked, which she was sure a Vulcan would think illogical. DeVeau: Honestly, I think he’s an excellent choice. Rajel: I am a quite emotion- and impulse driven person, his logical and calm demeanor puts our teamwork in balance. For example in one of our missions we were in an outpost that was badly damaged and we found labs that were flooded with some gas. I saw someone unconscious inside and was about to jump inside through one of the broken windows but he held me back because the gas was most likely what knocked the scientist out. We then took the long route and all, but without his quick thinking who knows what would have happened. A smile slid across Alora’s face and she nodded. Yep. That was Saveron. Thing was, it wasn’t just him being logical and calm, it was also him thinking about the other person. Emotions weren’t something he let slip outwardly, but inwardly, there was a deeply caring person. DeVeau: We sound a lot alike. Honestly, it’s one of the reasons I thought we made a great couple. Jalana raised her eyes and a brow rose slightly up, together with a corner of her mouth forming a smirk. Rajel: But dear Alora, usually I don't decide on such matters before we went at least on one date. But you'll have to buy dinner and woo me properly. For a moment, Alora sat there and blinked at the red headed commodore. Then, she erupted in musical laughter, through her head back, then shaking it. DeVeau: No! No! I mean, Sav and me! Sorry, but you’re not my type! She continued to laugh, though it softened down to a giggle which she managed to stifle somewhat with a large bite of the second half of her bagel. The Trill joined in the laughter and shook her head, raising a hand, her green eyes sparkling in amusement. Rajel: That is your loss, dear, I am amazing. ::She grinned and shook her head again.:: No worries, it was a mere joke. I can’t resist a good opening. ::Leaning forward:: So Saveron and you? That piqued her curiosity. DeVeau: Yeah, several years ago, didn’t work out. I’m glad he’s found someone else though. Alora truly was. And while Kalin had been the sort to admit to emotions, there were other aspects of him that were similar to Saveron. Perhaps that was why they had made a great couple. They say that time healed all wounds, but the stab that gutted her then almost took Alora’s breath away. She should have known better. Quickly, she took another bite, lowering her gaze and trying to push her thoughts in a completely different direction before everything spiraled out of control. DeVeau: How long have you been in Command of the Conny? The sudden change of subject did not go unnoticed by Jala, but she wouldn’t go and push a subject on Alora she didn’t want to talk about. Of course she was still curious, but not enough to do that. She took a bite from her croissant and thought about that question. Rajel: It’s been 5… no 6 years this June. ::A chuckle:: Man how time flies. DeVeau: I have to admit, I hope that’s one job I’m never given. Rajel: They usually ask before throwing you in. Granted for me it was right on the bridge presenting the ship and adding a line of ‘if you want it that is’. That is a little hard to decline but I know if I really didn’t want to I could have said that. Alora couldn’t help but giggle. Well now, what would one say to that? No thank you? Well, for Alora, that would have been exactly the answer she would have given. Not her thing. She was quite happy to stay where she was. DeVeau: So, almost six years ago, just sort of threw a ship at you, huh? Rajel: It happened right after I was joined and I guess I got a little adventurous. ::Chuckling:: I also had that little nagging past life voice in my head, telling me that someone will be very unhappy if I do it, so I had to. DeVeau: So a symbiote telling you not to made you do it, is that it? Rajel: One of my past hosts was a Captain in the Trill Private Service, right at the time when Trill joined the Federation and the TPS was integrated into Starfleet. She was not happy about it back then so… ::smirking:: I had to show her that I do what I want. Alora nodded as she took another bite of the bagel. Being joined with a symbiote sounded quite intriguing, but also confusing. To have that voice, and in a sense, multiple voices in one’s head. DeVeau: Does it sometimes seem like the lines between you and your symbiote blur? How do you keep from losing yourself? The question was fair, it was one of those things that was hard to grasp when one wasn’t joined. Despite being trained for it, it had been surprising for Jalana. Rajel: It does, sometimes. You see, it isn’t that you actually talk with the Symbiont just like you don’t talk with your past self from last year. But you share memories. So something may make you remember something from the past, a situation, a smell, a name, all this stuff. So that’s the same for joined Trills, but with a lot more memories. ::She paused briefly:: There are times when I remember something and I forget that they are not my memories, because for the symbiont, they are his memories and emotions and shares them with me. But when I think about it I remember who they belonged to. Munching on he bagel, Alora processed the information that had been shared. It sounded very complex, but she could, she supposed, get a sense of what she meant. Not necessarily by choice. DeVeau: It sounds difficult. It had been for her. Rajel: It’s an active process of reminding myself who I am, something I do every day. It’s something we are trained for before being joined. That’s why that training takes so many years to prepare us for it, and why we get tested until the moment it happens to see if we are suitable. There have been times when a host became overwhelmed and that didn’t end well. Including her own first host, something she had never talked about, and probably wouldn’t for a long time. DeVeau: I see. I have to admit, it’s something that sounds difficult to truly comprehend, not in the same way as actually hosting a symbiote. Well, she was not a Trill, but it was interesting to talk about, interesting to consider. DeVeau: How long have you been joined? Rajel: ::Smiling:: I was joined a week before I received Command. It was quite a gift. She was especially proud of having reached that milestone without the help of that symbiont. It was all her own work and effort. Something that she sometimes had worried about when thinking about being joined, how much of that was actually her and how much was past experiences. But knowing she had gotten there by herself was something she reminded herself of every now and then. DeVeau: What made you decide to pursue joining with a symbiote? Jalana smiled and leaned back, crossing her legs as she recalled. Rajel: I don’t know how familiar you are with the system but only a few people are chosen to become hosts and they undergo rigorous training to assure that they are the best choice for the symbiont. That makes it quite… prestigious. My father is an Ambassador but neither he, nor my mother or brother were suitable hosts. Back then when I applied I was young and still in training to follow my father’s footsteps. And it would have been the pride of the family if accepted and being his successor… Ah, yes, parents were like that. There was something, it seemed, about having children and wanting them to succeed, whether it be in a shared field or in a field where the parents were not successful. For Alora’s mother, it was music and the stage. Her mother had never quite made it on the stage, and she had hoped her daughter would attain that goal. Yet, when Alora had turned to Science instead, she had both conveyed disappointment, but also support for her daughter’s chosen career. It was an interesting juxtaposition between desires, but nonetheless, Grace had never made her daughter feel less simply for taking a different path. DeVeau: Going through the training changed things? Rajel: ::nodding her head:: That is how it started. But after I got accepted, the more I learned the more I wanted to do it for myself and the symbiont. I realized that it was a true honor, and hoped I would be able to give that symbiont I would receive a new experience... One that is worth it. I still hope so. ::She smiled:: DeVeau: Even if the previous host didn’t want you to? Alora grinned, finishing off the last of her bagel. Leaning back, Alora grabbed a napkin to wipe her hands and dab at her mouth. DeVeau: So, I was thinking, if you have time and want to explore some of the base, I could show you around. Rajel: ::chuckling:: Even then. And yes that sounds like a wonderful idea. I have only seen a fraction of a percent during my last visit, I would love to see more. Her whole face lit up and she suddenly felt as if she had some buzzing bees in her rear and got up. Then realized that Alora may have meant another time and hesitated. Rajel: You do mean now, right? Because I’m ready to go. ::grinning:: DeVeau: Oh yes, I meant right now. Rising, Alora’s expression matched that of the Commodores. She had eagerly anticipated spending time with friends, and now she had the opportunity to do so with her newest one. DeVeau: No time like the present. ******** Commodore Jalana Rajel Commanding Officer USS Constitution B Image Team Co-Facilitator A238906JL0 & Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau First Officer Starbase 118 Ops al...@blar.net M239008AD0

Congrats and welcome to the fleet!!

Congratulations and welcome to the fleet!

Beware the stealth-hug

Agreed. Spider Barclay is what sticks in my mind!

I was just coming to post that!

(( Starbase 118 - Commercial Sector - Cabo Breeze )) The party had been going well. Everyone appeared to be enjoying themselves. The Commodore was just stepping down from his speech and recognitions. Sol caught the eye of the band and nodded. The music started to fade and then pick up in to a slightly more upbeat tempo with just the drummer drumming along with occasional hits from the other instruments. Sol started moving just a bit to the beat as she made her way up to the stage. She stepped up to the mic, reaching one hand behind her back to loosen the laces of her ubiquitous corset, loosening it just enough to that she could fully breathe. She was gonna need all the lung power she could muster. McLaren: Well now that all the formalities are out of the way I think its time we really got this party started... we have a lot to celebrate tonight. :: She grinned. :: Sol reached down and picked up her trombone, which had been silently sitting on the stage all night joining in with the group and the music continued to build for a few more moments more before ending in a riff before the rest of the band picked back up at a slightly quicker tempo again. She let her trombone dangle from the crook of her arm, moving with the beat as she stepped back up to the mic. McLaren: Ohhhh... :: She clapped along with the beat, trying to encourage the group to clap along and get moving. :: ...feel like throwin' it up.... ohhhh I feel like throwin' it up... here we go! Sol again stepped back bringing her horn back to her lips joining in with the song, moving along with the beat as she played, her foot stomping with the beat. The funky beat seemed purposefully written for her instrument, letting her blare high notes and utilize every bit of the range it had. After a few minutes of playing she dropped out and let the rest of the band play, again stepping up to the mic. She was again clapping to the beat. McLaren: Uh... I say ah! I feel like throwin' it up. :: beat: I say ah! I feel like throwin' it up. :: beat : I say now ah! I feel like throwin' it up. :: beat :: I say now aHh! I feel like throwin' it up, uh... You feel like throwin' it up, throwin' it up. Throwin' it up, throwin' it up. Blowin' it up, blowin' it up. Blowin' it up blowin-- you feel like throwin' it up, blowin' it up. Blowin' it up, throwin' it up. Throwin' it up, throwin' it up, ooooo. Sol stepped back bringing her horn back up to her lips to finish up the song. The song eventually grew into a crescendo before finishing of with a strong note at the end. She brought her horn down setting it on its stand. It was clear she was breathing heavily. She stepped back, gesturing to the rest of the band before they started back up into more upbeat music in the same style that people could dance to. She started moving to the beat as she came down off the stage, retightening her corset back up. She tied the laces back off, dancing along to the beat, seeing just who else she could dance with. She spied the Commodore, gesturing from him to join her. McLaren: Enjoy yourself, Sal! Taybrim: ? McLaren: Well, I figured theres a lot of things coming down the pipe at us... the crew could use a proper party to cut loose and just have fun. What better way than with soulful music and dancing? Taybrim: ? McLaren: Besides all that... I dont get as much time to play as I used to... so this was a great way to keep my skills sharp. :: She laughed. :: I enjoy entertaining just as much as I enjoy my job... if anything its good to know I could probably fall back on it if Starfleet winds up not working out. :: She laughed again. :: Not that I plan on that. Taybrim: ? (( OOC; Enjoy the party! Have fun! )) ~~~ Lt. Commander Solaris McLaren Director of Intelligence Starbase 118 Ops C239210SM0

He's not the hero we asked for, but the hero we need! <3

Earth-Romulan war. Not only is Balance of Terror an excellent episode, but it really gave viewers a sense that the Earth-Romulan war was a creepy, dramatic, lonely war like old submarine warfare. Lots of ghost stories and crew bonding.

Congratulations and welcome to the fleet!

I love this whole cake fiasco! 🤣

OMGz, I loved this sim. Poor Lazarus! And the one-liner:

what a fantastic description of desserts, especially to an alien species! Way to go @Sheila Bailey!

Well... you know... it was a safe flight?!

Congrats and welcome to the fleet Breanna! And Welcome back Tatash! So thrilled you’re back with us!!

I'll just share our license plate...

Poor guy!