Ryan King

A great innovative post from my fellow Security/Tactical grunt Ensign @G'var. Great work! Holodeck 2 USS Veritas )) // Security Officer log - Stardate 239511.18 - Ensign G'var, reporting For the last two days Commanders Blake and Kelrod have been running the crew through combat simulations on the holodecks. Lt. Cmdr. Blake has assigned me the task of training the Gamma shift crew in close quarters drills. I have been assigned Security Chief Endilev along with Crewmen Bicondova and Welling. The Team and I have had little rest. We have been working through the alpha shift for their training time. Commander Kelrod's expectations are that we get all crew through the holodecks for close quarters as well as ship to ship combat. Tholians are an unknown when it comes to hand to hand combat, Starfleet's own records are limited. It seems the Tholians don't board ships, so much as capture in them in their webs and flood them with radiation, eliminating the Crew and any need for close quarters combat. Chief Endilev and I have been working with the Medical and Engineering crewmen on techniques for self defense, while Crewmen Bicondova and Welling have been running ship to ship and spatial combat drills. My Team has worked tirelessly and without complaint, each deserves commendation for their work in preparing their shipmates for any coming battles with the Tholians. // ::G'var stretched her arm as she watched Chief Endilev run the last group of engineering specialists through a simulated combat drill against a pair of Tholian soldiers. She smiled inwardly as the engineering team quickly isolated and contained the Tholians. Moving her hand across the control console G'var decided to add an extra Tholian to the encounter. Crossing her arms G'var watch the Crew's reaction as another Tholian ripped its way up through the deck spraying the corridor in debris, raising its weapon it began firing towards them indiscriminately. Tholians used compressed radiation beams, anyone caught in one would not survive, so as her team had been instructing them, the crew moved to the bulkhead seeking as much cover as the corridor provided. Staying calm the crew returned fire, weapons teams had recalibrated the phasers to fire in the upper harmonic frequencies. One of the computer specialists scored a direct hit shattering the upper carpis of the Tholian. Momentarily disoriented it began firing wildly down the corridor trying to kill whatever had wounded it. Again G'var smiled inwardly as the crewmen continued to follow their training, keeping under cover and laying down suppressive fire. A second team approached from the starboard corridor and neutralized the threat. Letting a small smile show G'var knodded in approval of the crews performance, at least the last two days hadn't been for nothing. If the Tholians did board the Veritas the crew would be as ready as possible. ::As the simulation ended G'var made a few notes on her PADD, the crew performed well, perhaps she need to up the threat level for the next crew. The Tholians were not going to be push overs. If they did board the crew needed to able to handle themselves. G'var looked up as Chief Endilev approached, his White hair mated to his scalp with sweat, antennae still twitching, rifle at pointed down at the deck.:: G'var: don't tell me your tired Chief, we still have 5 more Teams to run through drills before the end of shift. Endilev: Not all of the crew are warriors Ensign, we have doctors, explorers, and scientists onboard too. ::G'var raised an eyebrow at the Chiefs comment.:: G'var: I understand that Chief but very soon they will all become warriors. The Tholians do not care whom they are attacking, just look what they did to Astrofori One. Endilev: That's true Ensign, but if the crew is to exhausted to pick up a phaser rifle they won't be any good when the Tholians do arrive, they need a little rest. ::G'var crossed her arms again, what the Chief said wasn't wrong, but the crew needed to know their limits and how to overcome them. If you don't know your limits your as good as dead in a fight and worse you'll get others killed with you. It was their job to get the Crew ready for a fight. The crew got to be tired when the threat was over, not before.:: G'var: Give'm 10 minutes to hydrate and rest then run them through Drill Theta Alpha Seven, got me Chief. Endilev: Aye, Ma'am! ::Chief Endilev nodded curtly and left the room.:: G'var:-oO I hope the Chief's not to upset, but we don't have time to rest, HA! Time, with all that's happened in the last two days time is a luxury we seem not to have. The crew has to be ready to respond, for whatever awaits us, for whatever these TIC Agents have planned. I cannot fail them. Once this is over I'll apologize to the Chief, but for now we have to get everyone ready.Oo ::Cough:: ::G'var spun around to find Crewman Bicondova standing at attention behind her. Standing almost a foot taller than the crewman G'var new she intimidated the young Terran, she could smell her anxiety, but the Crewman steeled herself and showed no sign of fear on her face. A young face, soon those blue eyes would possibly see real combat.:: G'var:-oO was I ever that young and naive? It's good the girl is in control of her fear, she will need that in what's to come.Oo G'var: At ease Crewman, report. Bicondova: Ma'am, Welling and I have completed the last round of ship to ship simulation with the Medical staff. ::Hands G'var a PADD.:: The Average time of survival is 12:15 minutes before the ship is destroyed. At 20 Tholian ships the crew gets overwhelmed . Welling and I feel that we should adjust the simulation to add support from the Montreal as well, it may help the odds a bit more Ma'am. ::G'var studied the PADD for a few moments checking what the Crewmen had reported. A little over 12 minutes before the ship was destroyed, against three hundred ships not to bad. The odds were still long though. Commander del Vedova may be on to something, perhaps a diplomatic solution was the answer, two days of drills had just proved that a direct confrontation with the Tholians only ended in disaster. Mr. Ekal being here proved the future was not set and changes could be made. Kahless always said the greatest victory is the one that came without battle. G'var: Tell Welling to add the Montreal into the next Simulation, but add one more Tholian ship at each 30 second interval, Let's not make it to easy. Bicondova, Aye, Ma'am. > ::The Crewman did a smart about face and quickly headed back to holodeck 1. Studying the PADD for a few more moments, involuntarily flexed her right hand, G'var knew the majority of the Crew had never seen what it was like in hand to hand combat, many had seen ship to ship engagements. However, Spatial combat lakes the intimacy of close quarters combat, seeing the look in another beings eyes, feeling their breath on your skin, hands on flesh, that was an experience few on the ship had. G'var breathed a calming breath, giving a small prayer to Kahless:: G'var:-oO Kahless give us the wisdom to know when to fight and when not to fight, Kahless give us the wisdom to know how to fight this superior foe, Kahless give us the spirit to fight with honor, Kahless, give us the time to prepare for the coming battle.Oo :: Looking at the chronometer it had almost been ten minutes since the last battle drill, strapping on her mek'leth, G'var gripped a rifle from the rack and entered the Holodeck. Nodding to Chief Endilev, she looked around at the engineering team relaxing on the floor.:: G'var:::charging the rifle.:: Alright Third Herd ready for another round! ::looking exhausted the Crew on the floor slowly began to stand:: G'var: Everyone on your feet.::G'var walked down the corridor inspected each crewman and looking each one it the eye.::: I know your all tired and want to go to your bunks. ::beat:: I know each of you is scared of facing over three hundred Tholian ships. ::beat:: To be honest so am I, and if your not afraid then you're either a liar or a Borg. :: beat:: It's what you choose to do in spite of that fear that will make you all warriors. ::The crew nodded in agreement:: G'var: Kahless said that a true warrior wins first then goes to battle. ::beat:: That is what we must to, beat the fear in your heart, then only together can we go into battle and be victorious. ::looking back to the Chief:: Chief spin up the holodeck.-::looking to the rest of the crew::- Alright you Mugatos, lets kick Tholian Carpis! Ensign G'var Security/Tactical Officer USS Veritas V239511G10

An excellent post by Ensign @Geoffrey Teller on board Veritas. Coffee aficionados of the world, unite! ((OOC: During shoreleave, a few days after the awards ceremony)) ::Between the full repair schedule and the personal project Teller had been working on, he hadn't had much time for sleep in the last few days. Exhausted and wiping his hands on his crumpled uniform pants, Teller took a moment to look around the converted conference room that had so occupied his waking hours with a smile. The place didn't look like much yet, but the parts he'd been able to scrounge or build had come together nicely and the crew had been enthusiastic to help. A few empty transport crates stacked two high and three across serving as the bar at the rear of the room, with folding chairs and transport crates covered in spare emergency blankets serving as seating around the room. A large, stylized rendition of the Vertias itself was stenciled on the bulkhead covering the rear wall and, Teller hoped, caught the eye as you walked in. It would distract from the otherwise utilitarian setting, at least until they made their way to the serving station. Teller inspected the converted atmospheric pressure monitoring gear anxiously, making sure the unusual array of tubing and cables still didn't show any signs of leakage or trouble. Content that things were as ready as they could be, Teller headed behind the bar into the small hydroponics bay he'd created out of a disused storage closet. Teller smiled at the small bushes which had already born their first seeds, the very same ones that were rattling through a combination tumbler/roaster he had assembled out of a geological mineral analysier that had been slated to get reclaimed for replication mass. The room smelled of nutrient fluid and the bright lights were well balanced for the needs of growing plants, but Teller could already see he'd need to expand this part of the shop soon or they'd be opening a new arboretum on this deck. The beds themselves were amazing technology and had cut the growing time of the trees to a tiny fraction of what they'd need in soil on a planet, he just hoped it wouldn't affect the flavor badly. As he inspected the readouts on the hydroponic beds the tumbler/roaster chirped successfully and ejected a vacuum sealed canister out one side. Teller looked at it apprehensively. Either this canister would contain the thing he'd been desperate for since he came aboard or it was another failed experiment and he'd have to try again with a completely new batch. Opening the seal gingerly, Teller took a tentative whiff of the freshly roasted beans, judging their color and casing with a practiced eye. Eyes widening in surprise as the heady aroma of the caffeol, Teller smiled widely.:: oO Oh these will do just fine. These smell better than anything the replicator can spit out on its best day.Oo ::Teller took the beans back to the bar in the main room and poured a portion into the grinder he'd assembled. One part modified ore sample processor thanks to a colonist on Havelys Hope, one part molecular analyser lifted from the remains of a tricorder, the grinder automatically calibrated itself to produce a grind perfectly tailored to the bean, not too fine or coarse, or so Teller hoped. He had started this project with nothing much more than the dream of a decent cup of coffee on his mind but, like most projects, this one had sprawled and took on a life of its own as soon as he started building. Tapping the controls on the side, the grinder whirred to life and began crumbling the beans down into a fine powder. While he waited, Teller resealed the precious beans into their storage container and tapped a few buttons on his makeshift pressurized water pump and brought the temp to 91c and the pressure to 58kg.:: oO I'm going to need to train a team of monkeys to run all this for me, or I'm going to need to get to my shift an hour early. I wonder if anybody on this ship knows how to run a bar. Maybe once these poor people have a real cup of coffee, they'll start lining up to do it. Yeah, right.Oo ::The grinder completed its work and dispensed a perfectly formed puck into the waiting filter basket with a chime, smoothly tamping down the edges into what used to be a biological sample collector, now re-purposed. Lifting it away from the grinder and connecting it to the pump, Teller was pleased to see his machining skills hadn't degraded in his time at the academy. The flush connection between the pieces looked perfect and Teller could see no liquid or steam leaking from the seams. Teller went to draw the first shot but then realized he had forgotten something critical.:: oO I didn't make any mugs! Replicator has made me lazy, it always provides the cup and the drink at the same time. Hmm... Oo ::Teller walked to the replicator embedded in the wall and considered his options briefly. The catalog had a wide variety of cups and containers he could choose from already on file and with time, he could design and fabricate his own design from scratch. Looking around the room again with a smile, his sights set on the stylized Veritas behind the bar.:: Teller: Computer, load image file 'Teller theta six one.' Resize and apply it to mug design sixteen, variant c and produce two dozen, half tumbler sized, half full sized. Execute. ::The computer churned on the request for a moment and then materialized a tray of mugs, each bearing the artistic Veritas in silver on the black vaccum flasks. Teller was pleased, these would keep peoples coffee piping hot all day and wouldn't spill on a duty station due to their sealed lids and adhesive base. He hoped the Captain wouldn't mind the bit of artistic license. Lifting the tray, he returned to the bar and stashed the mugs underneath. Setting the pump for a quadruple shot, he placed a small shot glass under the dispenser and hit the switch with crossed fingers. Within moments, the rich aroma of dark brewed coffee began to fill the small space and Tellers smile spread further. Checking the pressure gauge, Teller was pleased that the deeply re-purposed gear was performing as hoped and within 20 seconds, the very first real shot of espresso ever brewed aboard this ship was ready for him:: oO Looks good...got three bands of color from light to dark, a nice crema on the top...nice even blend. Only one thing left to do. Oo ::Teller inhaled the aroma of the shot with a happy sigh, brought it too his lips and took a hesitant sip which quickly turned into a desperate gulp.:: oO Perfection. Absolute heaven in a cup. I haven't had a cup this good since I left the yards. Old Jan would be proud. Oo ::Energized by his success, Teller began drawing additional shots into the newly printed mugs. Teller briefly considered making a cappuccino or a cortado, or even a 'Vulcan Hello,' but stopped himself. He had traded for some 'milk' from the colonists as well but he didn't think he was up to that much experimentation just yet, especially when the coffee itself had come out so perfectly.:: oO Alright, I need to make good on my promise now that I'm relatively sure this won't kill anybody. Oo ::Senses buzzing with the infusion of caffeine, Teller finished making drinks and shut down the apparatus. Putting the pump and grinder into a cleaning cycle so they'd be ready for the next customer, Teller looked around his little contribution to ships morale with a deep sense of satisfaction. Teller decided now was as good a time as any.:: Teller: Computer, where's the Captain? Computer: The Captain is in her quarters. Teller: =/\= Teller to Captain Rahman =/\= Rahman: =/\= Response =/\= Teller: =/\= Sorry to disturb you Captain. Wanted you to be the first to know I've completed the project we discussed at the party and I've got some very promising results I'd like to share. =/\= Rahman: =/\= Response =/\= Teller: =/\= Understood Captain, I'll be right there. Teller out. =/\= ::Teller grabbed two of the sealed mug and the vacuum sealed container of beans, then headed out of the converted conference room.:: oO I really need to think of a name for this place. Maybe...Veritas Brewing? Nah. Core Breach Coffee? Nah. Warp Plasma Roasters? Damn, this was going to be harder than building the place. Oo ::Teller headed to the turbolift at the end of the hall, whistling off key to himself, an extra bounce in his step.:: ((A few minutes later, Outside Captain Rahman's Quarters)) oO Hope she likes strong coffee. This stuff could take the paint of a hullplate but damn if it isn't tasty. Oo ::Teller depressed the call button on the Captains door and was asked inside. The Captain was at her desk working, a cup of replicated coffee cooling at her side. She stopped working on her console long enough to look up at the diminutive Ensign and the items he was cradling. Teller snapped to attention as if in a parade line.:: Teller: Captain, thanks for letting me run with this. I hope you're as happy with the result as I am. ::Teller placed one of the vacuum sealed tumblers on the Captains desk reverently and took a respectful step back.:: Teller: What do you think, Captain? Good enough for the Veritas? Rahman: Response Tags & TBC =============================== Ensign Geoffrey Teller USS Veritas - NCC 95035 Capt. R. Rahman, Commanding V239509GT0

I Spy on the trip back! (Hopefully) And so awesome you used Klingon!

...Inspiration. Mama Mia? Rahman and Blake?

Yas! And... who are you calling little?!

I've been refreshing gmail for this. Bahahahahahaha The idiot line: yes! I'm really starting to conceive him as Steve Martin in "The Jerk." Stretch out the clothes?!?! How dare you!!!! Poor Rune, he's going to be pestering you constantly now...

Hailing frequencies will remain audio-only for the duration of our five year mission

Nothing, Tony. Nothing!

Bahahahahahahahahaha. Ok, I feel empowered now

Perhaps now is not the most opportune time for Ryan to show up with that Horta plush... :/

Oh I laughed so hard. I am in soooo much trouble

::cackle:: ::double cackle::

((First Officer’s Office)) ::There sat . . . lay . . . the Rodulan in his office, face down on his desk lightly snoring. He hadn’t managed to return to his quarters in time before he finally collapsed unconscious on top of the numerous PADDs waiting for him to sign off. He was out of uniform, having decided upon docking to Astrofori One, he was technically off duty. Or as “technically” as being First Officer would allow him to be off duty.:: Officer: =/\= Astrofori One to Commander Core. =/\= ::It roused him, if only barely, the man scrunching his eyebrows, his nose, before finally straightening up with a half-hearted stretch. ::Seven hours sleep. It was better than none, he supposed.:: Core: =/\= Core here. =/\= Officer: =/\= There’s a woman here in docking bay 2B by the name of Venxi asking for you. =/\= ::It was a joke. It had to be. There was no way. Why would a Rodulan ever come out to Astrofori One - there was nothing here for his people, let alone *Yanata*! ::Maybe it was a mistake. A lure to get him away from his desk, his oh so comfy desk.:: Core: =/\= Give me a few minutes. =/\= ::Just the idea of having Yanata within arms reach was too much of an opportunity to miss. He had to see for himself. Maybe it wasn’t her, maybe it was a case of mistaken identity - but he had to be sure before he came to a conclusion. So a quick change of clothes and a spash of water later, and he was off to the docking bay.:: ((Astrofori One docking bay)) ::Yanata Venxi was a dark olive skinned, brown haired, wide-eyed beauty to behold, even if she looked mildly flushed and uncomfortable around other strange looking species and beings Tristam himself had grown accustomed to. Even when standing in a docking bay full of people, Tristam could spot her immediately upon entering - he knew that carefully-planned and executed hair bun a mile away, those judging eyes analysing and criticizing everything around her. Not to mention that she was a comforting void within the buzzing minds of the officers and civilians around him. ::He must have been for her, too, because as soon as he stepped within those doors, her attention went immediately to him. It was easy to identify a Rodulan mentally when faced with about a hundred people’s worth of minds. The Rodulan would be the empty void - a silent buzz, but no sound coming from them.:: ::Tristam almost tripped over running to her.:: Core: I can’t believe you’re here- I don’t even- how did you- Yanata:::scolding:: Broebas Daneil Tristam Core! ::He’d been stunned to silence at the sound of what his full name was when structured within her Krzexxi titling, though he’d snapped immediately back into her heritage custom. As her hands roughly took hold of his cheeks, his own found her shoulders - she was at least a foot shorter than he was and had about thirty years more experience in life, but for the first time since leaving home, he felt as though he finally had a proper equal, someone who would frown at him if he held his utensils wrong, spoke in a slurred and unprofessional tongue (of which lately he’d been doing a lot), to have his manners finally corrected and basotile critiqued. Her eyes bore into his, but not in an unpleasant way. Instead, they displayed her fondness and familiar openness to him, as well as likely judging his scruffiness and rings around his eyes. It felt like a millennia since he’d been able to comfortably achieve this sort of greeting, let alone a form meant only for family. There was only one other woman he’d willing allow to assault his cheeks, after all.:: ::He’d been missing home for so long, and here was home, now brought to him by his sister in basotile.:: Core: You’re really here. On Astrofori One, so far from Rodul! Why didn’t you *call* - I would have been here to- Yanata: If I was capable, trust me, I would have. But it was a last minute thing - and the *technology* is just *unuseable* off world! I do not know how you can possibly stand it at all! ::It takes practice, he mused. The first time he held a PADD, he couldn’t make heads or tails of it. And now, as a components expert, he was considerably better at working with all sorts of tech. Rodulan interfaces were far more simple, and didn’t require learning the meaning of thousands of various numbers and codes to work properly. Then again, Rodulan computers were never designed for space exploration.:: Core: Wha- how’d you even *get* here? Yanata: Cardassian transport system. Part of the political apology was the creation of a transport between Basul Rodul and another spaceport I can’t possibly remember the name of but is within Cardassian space. I think. Honestly, whenever I get off Rodul, it’s just one giant black bowl of pointlessness. ::Tristam blinked. That answered *one* of his questions, he supposed.:: Core: *Why* are you here!? Don’t get me wrong, this is one of the best gifts the Artist has given me in about ten years, but . . . *why*? Yanata: You have so many questions. Didn’t Taywor tell you? Core: The reason you’re here? Yanata: Yes. Core: *No*! No he *didn’t*! ::The woman gave a deep, Rodulan kind of frown Tristam hadn’t seen for too long, shaking her head in what some people would call over-emphasized. In fact, her body movements so far had made her the most conspicuous thing in the bay:: Yanata: Relations with the Cardassians is better. Much better. So we’re having some talks about trade and what not. I am here as one of the representatives - I’m to relay a couple of deals, give responses, that sort of thing. There is a few of us, actually. The Cardies set up travel documents for us. ::Though he cringed as his sister’s use of “Cardies” whilst in public, he had to muse about the situation she’d presented to him. Rodulans and Cardassians working hand in hand. Tristam sincerely hoped that was so they could milk the Cardassians for whatever they had after the whole occupation apology. It hadn’t been in Tristam’s time, but for some Rodulans, it might as well have been yesterday. Not pleasant, but at least they’d been able to move on without forming any Maquis-like ‘retribution’ groups.:: Core: Why Astrofori One? Yanata: Neutral ground. Betreka Nebula seems to be uneasy at the moment - one of your Starfleet ships investigated a “distress call”, or so I heard, so the Defense Force is on high alert because of them, and won’t allow diplomatic meetings until their problems have been sorted. Of course, that could take years, and as per usual, they didn’t want to have Cardassians in their space for too long. They were getting a bit nervous. And we do not really want to be on Cardassia Prime just yet, now do we? ::Made sense.:: Core: Okay, well, uh . . . do you have some place to stay? Yanata: No, I plan on sleeping in a dirty corridor somewhere- of *course* I have accomodation. What’s the matter with you? Did you leave your brain in a bin somewhere? Core: I’m just trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’re actually here! Yanata: Well wrap it quickly. I would like to get out of here and settled as soon as possible. I am hoping you can help me around this place because the design seems like an absolute *nightmare*- ::As she took a step forward, she stumbled, Tristam having to catch her before she ended up on the floor. After a few deep breaths, she straightened up, tugging her shirt down a little as she regained her faculties.:: Yanata: I am fine. It has been a long trip. Core: Long trip worth of space-sickness. Didn’t the Cardassians have doctors aboard? Yanata:::sighing:: I do not need to speak with any doctors of any kind. ::She paused, gripping his arm a little tighter.:: Though this nausea *is* getting worse the more the station rocks. Core: All the more reason to take you to medical. ((Guest quarters, Astrofori One)) ::A trip to medical had Yanata's symptoms of space sickness sorted, she'd retired to her quarters demanding time to settle and some privacy - given her overbearing nature, Tristam bid her a good night and instead returned to his own quarters for a good nights rest, looking forward to giving his sister-in-baso the tour of the station. ::When she answered the door to her guest quarters, Tristam found her cross-legged on the floor, feet bare, eyes concentrated purely on the clay-like substance currently at her hands. ::Basotile. ::He hadn't seen another Rodulan work with basotile since . . . well, since forever. Though basotile was grand in its expression, his family often worked with it in seclusion. Yanata was the only one of the household whom would openly craft. At first it was a quality of hers that he constantly questioned, but now it was something he took comfort in. It felt as though a large weight had been lifted from his shoulders.:: Core: I didn't mean to disturb you. Yanata: I am almost done. I will be with you in a minute. ::Yanata wasn't using tools to mold the clay, instead shaping it with her hands. So far, it was simply a cube, patterns traced within it by her smallest finger. She was currently digging out clay from the top. ::Tristam set himself down at the table, staring at his sister-in-baso in a way Gamighan would have likely called 'rude', but one she was not adverse to. When she finally completed the small sculpture, it had taken form of a strange cup. She removed her hands, leaving the basotile on the table as she got up to wash them, toes stretching as she cleaned the remaining craftments from her fingernails.:: Yanata: I am afraid I won't have time for a tour today. My meeting for the trade agreements has been rescheduled for two hours from now. Core: Did they tell you why? Yanata: Yes, but I couldn't make heads or tails of it. Something about some random Dennermé conflict. That is how you say it, yes? Core: Yes. Dennermé. And they’re not exactly known for their subtlety. Yanata: You have heard of them? Core: Spoken to a few of them, actually. You’d like them - they’re very . . . critical. Yanata: Sounds about right, given the Cardassian’s attitude when I asked. You are speaking two dialects, by the way - it’s getting irritating watching your mouth slug over Krzexxi. Choose one or the other. Core: Sorry. ::Krzexxi often used a precise words, children taught away from using contractions as one of the first three words of a sentence in the Western Gate. Laziness was frowned upon when speaking, and given that Tristam had resorted to using three different languages when he’d had problems talking, he hadn’t broken out of it easily. It was a bad habit.:: Yanata: Do not apologise, just don’t do it. Why are you even in the first place? Core: It’s a long story. No one speaks Rodulan dialects on Invicta because of the universal translator, so no one has noticed. Yanata: Consider me surprised Taywor hasn’t pulled you up on it. Core: We’ve been a bit busy focussing on my actual health. Yanata: Hmm. I suppose the fact that you *can* talk is a blessing. ::She nodded to herself, pulling a mug off the bench and placing it in front of Tristam.:: Yanata: I come baring gifts. Core: You didn’t have to- Yanata: Hush. It was a requirement set by your father. ::And just as quickly as she had sat down, she was up and off again, headed to the couch to pick up a crate, heaving it up and dumping it onto the table in front of him. Tristam stood from the table, Yanata unlocking the mechanism.:: Yanata: These are personal effects Gamighan wanted you to have. ::She pointed to each individually.:: Supply of proper basotile, instead of just the clay import- Core: What’s the matter with my clay stuff? Yanata: I am just the messenger, but he said to tell you that clay likely isn’t giving you the workout you need. And since Starfleet doesn’t have a telepathic psychophysiotherapist . . . ::She simply shrugged. Tristam was trying to work out if “psychophysiotherapist” was even a word or if Yanata was just trying to paraphrase Gamighan’s argument somehow.:: Yanata: It may take more time out of your day, but it’ll be worth it in the long wrong. Moving on, there is a couple of blankets, as well as a new copy of the Ozara Sect of Dikken - Taywor thought you might appreciate that. And, of course, an eye of the Artist . . . ::Gingerly, as though she thought she was going to drop and break it, she handed Tristam a chain and pendant. An Eye of the Artist was essentially just a good luck charm, one associated with the belief that the Artist was watching over all, a stainless steel locket, inside holding materials associated with Dikken. The “eye” was the front of the locket, a patterned circle revealing parts of the glow-in-the-dark blue held in a glass container within. ::Because he’d left Rodul, because he was out of the gaze of the Artist, it had felt necessary to keep one with him. It was one of the few connections to home he’d had during his time in Starfleet. He’d lost his original on the Pioneer, having gone missing when they’d rounded up his personal effects to send back to him while he was recovering from the accident (he hadn’t worn it on duty for reason of protocol), and at the time, he was so wound up in losing what might as well have been a limb, that he hadn’t had the capacity for a crisis of faith. It only hit him when he was half-way through his tenure on Seventeen, but he’d been so lucky in his recovery and everything after that, he hadn’t believed it a loss worthy to dwell over.:: Core: Been a while since I’ve seen one of these. ::As if it’d been his original, he pulled it over his head, the pendant settling against his chest as if it hadn’t been years since he’d last had one on. Yanata was trying to hide a smile, pulling the crate off the table and out of the way.:: Yanata: It’s not all I bring. ::She moved off as Tristam continued examining the eye around his neck, heaving up a much larger crate and all but dumping it in the place the other had been.:: ::One of the problems he’d had whilst being away from home was the constant over-stimulation of flavours. Eating non-replicated meals had been a nightmare, and even then, he’d had to endure the use of nutrient pastes for years on end (the Medical Starbase he’d been a resident of for that brief tenure had many a creative solution to this problem) before he finally got around to programming meals or altering them. To this day, he couldn’t prepare a proper meal for Roshanara without instruction to make it more flavoursome and she couldn’t prepare anything for him lest she accidentally burn his tastebuds off. It was a never ending problem, his Attraxan tongue being too sensitive for it’s own good. He was often stuck with eating fish and unseasoned vegetables, soups or stews, customized replicator pastes (essentially what he’d been living on since boarding the Invicta due to it being a quick meal and lack of time to program anything else), or the worst of the bunch, nutrient and protein shakes, but even then, there was the occasional problem. ::But here he was, peering into this ridiculously large crate that Yanata had somehow managed to get aboard a Cardassian passenger transport with likely few questions asked because it was Yanata Venxi doing it and you better have a damn good reason to not let her do it thank you. All he saw were baking ingredients, fresh food, syrups and more. ::It wasn’t even the only crate. She was back over at the couch moving another one towards him.:: Core: How did- what- *why*!? Yanata: Taywor said you were complaining endlessly. ::Where was he two years ago!?:: Core: The Menthar Corridor doesn’t exactly accommodate for Rodulans far away from home. Yanata: I am painfully aware of this. I have been here one day and already I despise everything I smell. You have been living away from home for *years* - I don’t know how you stand it. Core: You get used to it. Yanata: Well, regardless to what you’ve done to work through the fifth sense pain, here is a temporary solution. This is all fixes for tastes. It is not much in the scope of things, but essence of ytic, strom and selt, extract of det, esir and regayo; I figured you could combine those as much as you like and change things up a bit. Herbs and spices as well. Uh . . . ::she held up a cetbe fruit:: fresh produce, fruit and vegetables, obviously. I also brought some diluted vinegar since you love your fish so much. Sweeteners and syrups, so forth. Oh! I called up your personnel office and asked if these can be programmed into your replicator - they said you shouldn’t have a problem and that if you do, you should talk to operations. I did not bring any flour or thickeners or water or anything of the like but I assume you can find substitutes? Core: I’m sure I’ll find something. Yanata: Oh good, because Gamighan was concerned that I should have brought five crates worth. Core: I don’t think you’d have gotten away with that. And I thought you were in a hurry? How’d you manage to find time to call Starfleet yet not call *me*? Yanata: I had two days to prepare. Completely last minute - this on top of all the reporting I had to finish up, you’re lucky I managed to pull anything together at all. ::Yanata was nothing if not efficient. Tristam couldn’t help but glance back at the crates. They’d be his first legitimately Rodulan meal in *years*. He cracked a smile, huffing a laugh, before finally pulling Yanata into a hug. ::He was hugging his sister-in-baso. He hadn’t hugged her in years, hadn’t heard her voice in person for just as long. But here she was, shoulder warm against his chin. Not only that, but she’d showed up on his doorstep and brought his *culture* back.:: ::He had to take a shaky breath to stop tears from forming.:: Yanata: Tristam, are you alright? ::He only held her tighter.:: Core: You have no idea how much I missed you. Tbc . . . LtCmdr Tristam Core First Officer USS Invicta C238803SB0

I'm rounding the home stretch on catch up (I know I should just jump in but I hate doing that out of respect for all of the amazing writing). A great one from Counselor Walker. I have a great deal of sympathy on this one.

I liked the imagery from our guest simmer: