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Sal Taybrim

Executive Council member
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Everything posted by Sal Taybrim

  1. ((Ishnag Education Center – Main Hall)) Maxwell: =/\= Maxwell tae Malko. We've got incoming. You are tae hold your position around the shuttle and remain undetected for now. Tell MacMahon that's an order! =/\= :: The hail from Lieutenant Commander Maxwell was not news to Malko. Only seconds before a Starfleet officer was being carried into the triage area and the whole camp around the shuttle had gone into high alert. The medical team led by Nurse Gau was lining up tables and electron scanners in a fury of medical feng shui. Malko was about to reply when he noticed the injured officer had dropped his tricorder coming through the path behind the landing zone... :: Poq: ? Jesseth: We have 14,678 gornlings on this planet in two areas – this one is the larger with 8000, and then eighteen quadrosecs away there is another building with the remaining younglings. We have put in emergency measures and all our younglings and staff are in shelters, with the majority being in this building. Maxwell: What defensive systems do you have? ::Turning.:: Is there anything you need, Dr? Poq: ? Jesseth: Yes, there is a medical facility on the second level. We also have meteor shields if all evacuated staff and younglings are below ground level. Maxwell: Then I would respectfully suggest you do so, Administrator. Poq: ? Jesseth: Yes I will - ::He cut off as the shield that protected the building sizzled:: A hit on our reflective shields. They have come. Maxwell: Are there any weapons on site? Anything at all? Poq/Jesseth: ? Maxwell: I appreciate that, Administrator, but you must have something? Poq/Jesseth: ? Maxwell: Bows, aye? Poq/Jesseth: ? :: Behind Malko, the Marines were creating a perimeter around the shuttle, weapons raised, ready to protect the injured at any cost. Following Maxwell's orders, they were keeping the landed unit as clandestine as possible. Malko stepped over the thick roots in the swampy brush. If the Klingons heard this pinging Starfleet tricorder that was dropped out here, they would be on their trail. :: Malko: =/\= Malko to Maxwell, MacMahon is behaving. I will keep you updated on our situation. Have you and the Doctor found a... :: Just then Malko realized why the tricorder was pinging... - Lifeform detected - Malko drew his phaser just as a well-worn disruptor poked its way through the foliage. A female Klingon in pastel coloured vestments tilted her head to the side. Both were surprised to see each other. The Klingon stared at Malko down the ironsights of the disruptor as he held the phaser at his hip and stood slowly. He gritted his teeth and hoped she could not see the tremble of his hand. :: Maxwell: ? Poq/Jesseth: ? :: He did not think it would be smart to respond. The Klingon overheard the radio chatter, and knew where they were keeping the Ambassador. Malko was painfully aware he could not let this Klingon leave his sights and share that with the rest of the cult. He was also aware he could not call for the marines and give away the position of the shuttle hidden behind him with all their injured were being treated. A stalemate had been reached. They had a Terran stand-off on their hands. If either of them were going to shoot, they would have done it by now. That meant this Klingon was at least somewhat interested in self-preservation. Good - he could work with that. Malko remembered he had never actually touched his commbadge to close the channel... :: =/\= Malko: ::slowly:: ... My name is Malko... I belong to Starfleet... I am a medical and diplomatic officer, not a soldier. As, I'm sure, you can tell. You are with Molor? What is your name? Klingon: *low grumble* ::looking around:: Malko: I won't call for backup if you don't. It's just me and you. What is your name? Klingon: *lower grumble*... Askade. Malko: Askade. =/\= Maxwell: ? Poq/Jesseth: ? =/\= Malko: Askade, why do you fight for Molor? Askade: Ha. For the pride of our people. For a glorious life. ::she smiled and bared her serrated teeth :: Why do you fight for the Gorn? Malko: Starfleet believes all races are their people. Our houses are not defined by bloodline but by creed. When my people are threatened, I fight to protect my people. Just as I would fight to protect you, Askade, if a threat came to your home and darkened your doorstep. Askade: ...LIES. :: stepping forward into the clearing to close the distance, flexing her vascular musculature. :: Malko: ::sternly:: You are not my enemy, Askade. If we were here to wage war, we would have opened fire without care for either race's casualties. We... No - I am here to protect. I have sworn this as my life's duty, and as a Klingon I'm damn sure you can respect that. ::his eyes watered:: =/\= Maxwell: ? Poq/Jesseth: ?
  2. Me, the player: Cardassians Sal Taybrim: Vulcans Shar'Wyn Foster: Klingons
  3. Did you know the lovely StarBase 118 herself dresses up for the big event?
  4. Wyn has one thing to wear at awards ceremonies (mostly because I only have one photoshopped image of a blue guy!)
  5. This is the place for everyone to post how amazing they are looking for the upcoming ceremony! Sal's a little nervous, but that's only because someone told him the "best Pastry on Sb118" award is going away this year!
  6. Sal suddenly heard that the beloved "best pastry on StarBase 118 award" was going to be retired this year...
  7. ((Athens, Greece - 2000 B.C. [Main Engineering])) ::Ah, Athens! Greek's people lucky enough to not be stuck in the middle of nowhere or stranded on an island or in a labyrinth were, for the most part, gathered here in Athena's neck of the woods. Hermes didn't necessarily like Athena, but he didn't hate her either. Though she was technically his sister by patronage, he didn't call on her often. Then again, almost every God in Olympus was related, in some fashion or another. Today he had reason, however. So along the clouds he dashed, gracefully riding the mist of the morning toward the place named for Athena. He grunted irritably as he thought of her. No one ever named a city after him. But he shook his annoyance with Greece off of him like the feather of a bird, and found himself atop Athens’ temple to the namesake Goddess. Unseen by the people milling below, he wandered around the roof, watching the masses.:: Athena: Why are you here? ::A sky grin came across Hermes’ face as the voice sounded from behind him. He knew it wouldn't take long for her to show up.:: Hermes: ‘Thena, how's tricks? Athena: I did not invite you into my city. State your business or I will skin your insides. Hermes: You'd have to catch me first. ::He yawned lazily, and then turned to face her with a half grin hitched on his lips.:: We have a problem. ::Athena was elegant as always in a snow white gown that flowed to the ground, not showing much skin at all, which by Hermes’ standards was blasphemy. He himself wore a subligaria he'd ripped off from the Romans that covered his family jewels, and not much else. Giving Hermes a scowl of loathing, Athena didn't say anything. Instead, she waited for Hermes to explain. He sighed, wishing she'd at least play along, but gave in.:: Hermes: Things have been happening in Olympus. Indeed, all around Greece. I'm sure you've noticed by now. Athena: I've noted odd happenings. I assumed it was you, or Aries, causing mayhem for the amusement. Hermes: I wish I could say that was true, ‘Thena. But ::he sighed:: they are not of Olympian origin. ::Athena studied him with pursed lips and a doubtful gaze.:: Athena: If not from a God, then from where are these machinations appearing? I recently witnessed no less than twelve dragons fighting in my skies. What else but a God has the power to create such things? Hermes: Only one thing Zeus can think of. Athena: ::Her eyes widened, and then her scowl returned with ferocity.:: No. Its secure. Cronus himself knows not its location. Hermes: Well, it's been moved, for our own safety. With so many strange sightings, Zeus has determined that we are under attack by beings from another realm. None can have access to...it. Athena: If it is secure, why do you come here? ::Hermes gave another sly grin.:: Hermes: Well, I need a favor. I have been appointed as the master of defense in this trying time, and I need some...minions...to assist me. Athena: I do not keep monsters in my city. Go find them elsewhere. Hermes: Come on ‘Thena, I know you don't have anything here….but you do know where I can find what I seek. ::Athena gave Hermes a gaze of scrutiny, thinking on his words.:: Athena: Fine. I'll give you the information you seek. ::Hermes grinned broadly. Together, they vanished, in order to prepare the defenses of Olympus.:: ((Timeskip - A Few Hours Later)) ::Everything was in place. Well, at least he thought so. Hermes had finally convinced his new beastie friend to play along, and now it was in place, he needed to search for the source of the intruders. Greece was a large place, and so knowing just where to look was quite difficult. He started in Athens, and then, leaving the city scoured the countryside of Attika, and found nothing. Through Kephallonia and Thermopylai he searched, and found nothing. It wasn't until he decided to search a bit closer to home, and maybe bring Artemis’ lazy ass into the hunt, that something strange finally happened. Three people talking in hushed words caught his eye. This wasn't anything so odd, three people talking was as common as Zeus’ extra-marital escapades. What was really odd was their appearance. One was normal enough. The second was mostly normal, except for a few subtle spots on her head and neck. The last one was monstrous. His skin was ugly and gray, he had weird ridges on his face and the odd look of someone who just fell out of bed.:: Maxwell/Poq/Rohan: ? ::He listened from his hiding spot, not understanding at all what they were talking about. This was annoying. As a God of Olympus, he felt insulted that he couldn't decipher the strange words they used. It wasn't a language barrier, it was their vocabulary. They talked about...holo-somethings, and main enginwhoosits. Gah! Annoying! Deciding it was time to do something, Hermes revealed himself. His barely clothed form sparkled in the marvelous sun, his skin carved from marbles his hair the color of a sea of wheat. His excellence would surely astound these newcomers.:: Hermes: Welcome, friends from afar! Maxwell/Poq/Rohan: ? Hermes: I am Hermes, Messenger of the Gods, God of trade, thieves, travelers, sports, athletes, border crossings, and guide to the Underworld! Who might you be? Maxwell/Poq/Rohan: ? Hermes: Smartass, I see. Well I don't know what you seek. But perhaps I can help you find it. ::He kept his voice benevolent, as if he only wanted to help them. Of course, he'd soon enough get what information he needed, and lead them to his beastie friend...:: Maxwell/Poq/Rohan: ? ~*~ Hermes Messenger of the Gods & Athena Goddess of Wisdom As simmed by ~*~ Ensign Evelyn Rós Science Officer StarBase 118 Ops O239512ER0
  8. Note to self: do not ask Nijil to start writing motivational posters... 😂
  9. I say security, but that's only because the command staff is lumped into one. I think the FO is the riskiest job since the CO usually stays back and masterminds things but your FO's always on the front lines!
  10. ((Hidden Temple of Molor)) ::K’Nubis sat over a dusty tome, running his fingers lightly through the flame of a candle - slowly enough that he could feel the fire bite at him. It flickered weakly in the ancient hall, but held bright illumination against the void of darkness encompassing the room. The words and lore were a constant reminder of his path, his purpose, his calling. He took in the words of Molor and savored them, for they were his truth and he was their voice. The true path of the Klingons had been lost with the traitor Kahless, and had plunged the Klingon Empire into weakness and complacency. He stood slowly, his expression almost vacant as he walked the length of the hall, his robes dragging through the dust of the ruin behind him. Exiting the sacred place, two acolytes took up position behind him as he walked. Not a whisper was spoken. Their armor was accented with a dark maroon cape and was adorned with the symbol of Molor, a ceremonial Mek’Leth strapped to their waists. He entered a similarly dark chapel and walked the central path between a gathering of his followers who dared not speak in his presence. The edges of the room were lined with candelabrum and a small stone alter stained with blood stood at its head. He took his place before it and silently regarded those before him as the two acolytes that had followed him took up positions at opposite sides of the room. K’Nubis: Children of Molor, I stand before you as the humble servant of our great father. ::His voice was calm and soft but almost hollow as though void of any emotion.:: I come to you this day with grave news, for one of our own dear brothers has failed in his duty to our cause. ::He looked out over the assembled. A rag tag group of Klingons and a number of other species - all brought together in search of something greater than themselves. His eyes stopped on a fellow Klingon - one who’s stoicism was betrayed by the sweat upon his brow and the trembling of his hand.:: K’Nubis: I call forward Trok son of Kurod. Present yourself to the judgement of Molor and state your transgression. ::The man stepped forward with a brave face and set his ceremonial Mek’Leth upon the small alter.:: Trok: I present myself to the mercy of Molor that he may allow atonement for my weakness. ::He held his head high, but the faint tremble in his voice betrayed his confidence.:: I sent an encrypted transmission to my sister in the hope of alleviating her concerns for my safety. ::A deafening silence stifled the air as he paused before continuing.:: This was foolish, and forbidden. I seek correction and alignment. K’Nubis: I hear this plea and grant reformation. ::His voice hollow and unwavering.:: May your purification through pain be an enlightenment to us all. ::The man took a knee and braced himself for what may come. Two acolytes approached from the back of the room carrying an urn and placed it on the altar before Trok.:: K’Nubis: We can all count ourselves blessed for this reminder. That those that follow Molor are the only true family worth value. Through our true brothers and sisters we find strength, and in all others we are compelled to actions of selfish compassion and weakness. This is not the true way. ::K’Nubis took the urn and knelt calmly before Trok, offering it out to him. Its contents a swarm of small creatures known far and wide for the ability to cause excruciating agony in all that came in contact with them. Roughly translated from their Lethean homeworld - Hornet Eels. Trok looked to the dark opening - his breathing becoming more rapid until he pulled in all the breath he had and held it, plunging his hand into the urn and all of the anguish that awaited him. There was the slightest moment when all was quiet, but any hope of an aversion to punishment was quickly dismissed when his teeth barred and his body tensed with a heavy groan as he grit his teeth. His pride kept his mouth shut as his warrior spirit compelled him to remain strong - but only for so long. He howled in agony and attempted to pull his hand back but K’Nubis was ready. He grabbed the tortured man's arm firmly and forced it down. His calm expression breaking only with a small curl of his lip - enough to hint at a quiet rage as he asserted his dominance and authority. Finally - Trok collapsed to the ground, his body no longer able to endure the punishment. K’Nubis extracted the damaged hand and set the url calmly back upon the altar and composed himself.:: K’Nubis: Let us all celebrate the blessing that has enlightened us through our brother. Today he has been made stronger, and his faith and duty bolstered. Never again will he commit such a misguided blunder, for he has been purified by pain. It will forever be a reminder of his mistake, and will help guide him on the true path. The path to a stronger Klingon Empire - One that is not weakened by the frailty of personal agendas and the follies of ambition. Unity is the only path to dominance, and self interest is the enemy of unity. ::His sermon was short - his lesson over. The display had sent the intended message. Dismissed, the assembled dispersed. Trok still lay passed out before the altar, sweat pouring down his face and his hand covered in painful welts and discolorations. K’nubis stepped over him as two acolytes once again took their place at his side as he departed the room. It was time to get back to business - there was much to be done, and there was no more room for mistakes.::
  11. important things to worry about when beaming into dangerous situations: targ farts! 😂
  12. I could watch an entire series of nothing but Spock and Bones.
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