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Ben Garcia

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Everything posted by Ben Garcia

  1. As a HCO officer, I dig procedural sims - it's great to see how the ship ticks over. This post by our talented Chief Engineer @Sirok and mighty marine @Wes Greaves ticks lots of boxes for me. I like the inter-departmental collaboration, the fact that we see a team struggle to get the basics right and two department leads having to figure it out for the benefit of the ship! Nice one! ((Marine Quarterdeck, Deck 9, USS Thor)) The quarterdeck was oddly quiet for being mid-morning on a duty day. Hannibal’s reassignment had been abrupt and equally as shocking to the Marines as the move to the Thor. Despite the ever present need to train, the detachment had gathered to give the Major the proper send off he deserved before his departure. For yet another morning after their last mission, Wes regretted the alcohol related decisions of the previous night. Come to think of it, most of the detachment was probably regretting the choices of the previous night. Wes whistled softly to himself, and immediately stopped as the piercing noise caused a shooting pain in his head. Reading a training report on his padd, he was enjoying the abnormal quiet of the quarterdeck. The Marines were hardly rowdy in the near sacred room, but it was uncommon to be able to hear the dull hum of the engines so clearly. The man was lost in his own thoughts, no longer focused on reading the words on the device, when a notification caused the padd to beep and vibrate softly. Puzzled upon receiving a message from the newly appointed Chief Engineer, Wes opened the communique and read through it quickly. Wes looked up from the padd and gave a mental shrug. Now was as good of a time as any to run such drills. Well maybe not this specific moment, with most of the detachment hung over. Regardless, most of the crew would be in reduced working hours or off ship. The officer looked up across the quarterdeck to the empty office once occupied by Major Parker. The reassignment had been so sudden, no one had spoken to Wes about the change of command. He was reluctant to occupy the office intended for the Detachment Commander until someone told him he was the new boss. Even so, Wes was the ranking Marine aboard the ship now, and as Commander of Troops, it was his call to make. ((Main Engineering, Deck 20, USS Thor)) Sirok was waiting in engineering for Greaves. The activity in the huge chamber seemed to be what it should be. All the repairs had only been completed a few days ago. They had been exhausting. After them, the engineers had had to take mandatory shifts, including the chief engineer, in order to get back to normal, physically and mentally. Once the repairs were completed, the space in the cargo bays where the Azcou and the colonists had been, could also be fully recovered. Therefore, the cargo bay the Marines had assigned themselves had to be shared. At the time Ensign Sirok simply told him that given the small space of a starship it was practically impossible for anyone to be assigned such a large space. For the same reason he had to talk to the captain one day about the bowling alley, it was totally illogical from the point of view of the available space. Sirok: Lieutenant Greaves, welcome. ::Without further preamble or ceremony, the Vulcan turned on his holographic table, displaying a three-dimensional map of the ship.:: Wes smirked as the chief offered a greeting. Greaves: Nice display you’ve got there. Excited to see me? Wes wasn’t surprised that his friend decided to ignore the joke and he listened attentively as the Vulcan dove directly into business. Sirok: To simulate a situation in which your men are deployed, I have chosen a yellow alert situation, which will turn red once the simulation begins. It's practically impossible to know where they might be in a normal situation, some in their quarters, recreational or training areas. So I think it's best to start in a controlled situation. Greaves: A logical decision. Wes studied the holographic layout of the ship. The Vesta class really was large, and the detachment was just a drop in the bucket that was the manpower of the ship. There was no way they could cover even a portion of the vessel’s emergency responsibilities themselves. The moment struck Wes with the weight of the need for teamwork in the bleak hostility of space. Sirok: The engineering team is distributed near the most important locations, shield control, deflectors, weapons controls, thrusters... You can see it on the map. Unless the command officers order otherwise due to circumstances. As you know, security usually sets up teams on different decks, to protect key locations. Greaves: Right. They’ll make sure that no unauthorized personnel are about, and defend the critical ship functions are protected in case of being boarded. Sirok: I do not know the deployment of your men in a situation like this. Reinforcing security work and a strike team on standby in case they have to go after a target? Wes turned inward in thought and crossed his arms as he wracked his memory. Honestly, the precise reactions in the different alert states needed review as they hadn’t been discussed in detail since the Thor was an auxiliary vessel to the Embassy and most the Marines were assigned to the Thunder-A. For not the first time, he missed Major Parker’s expertise and experience. He tried to remember how they did it back on the U.S.S. Hood when he was there. Greaves: If I remember the S.O.P. right, during yellow alert the Marines report to the armory and don combat gear. On red alert, the squad on duty sets up as a quick reaction force on the quarterdeck. They are responsible for repelling boarders or rushing to emergency locations. The other squad reports to main security to reinforce their positions. Sirok: I will set up the teams for the simulation as you say. ::The Vulcan started typing on the console and the marine teams showed up in the yellow alert simulation.:: Greaves: We could rewrite our procedures so our medic reports to sickbay and our combat engineer leads the fighter maintenance personnel as damage control teams. Wes paused as he turned the idea over in his mind more. Greaves: Actually, it might be better to keep the medic with the reaction force as an emergency trauma team. . . Regardless, that’s a discussion to have with our medical department. Our combat engineer is the perfect leader for a damage control party. Sirok: I do not know how many doctors you have but I would keep them distributed near their equipment. Except in an extremely serious situation, the infirmary should be able to proceed very quickly. In many cases your medics should not even give them time to stabilize the patient if the transporter is available. But as you said, it would be better to coordinate with Dr. McKenzie. ::Sirok spoke as he entered the data to place the teams as Wes had said in red alert.:: Sirok: As far as your combat engineer is concerned, their knowledge should be taken very seriously by the teams they are on. Greaves: Agreed. So what were you thinking for drills? It’d probably be smart to start with some classes and demonstrations on the appropriate tools and responses before we dive into some full scale drills. Sirok: It would be convenient. I would start by teaching them the operation of the systems closest to the areas to which they are sent. Security protocols for the most common damages and ways to disconnect that system and to switch it to the secondary if it has not been achieved remotely. Obviously in that process they would be taught how to use the necessary tools and where to find them on the ship. Wes nodded along as Sirok described his plan of attack and made his own mental notes on how best to organize the classes before turning to some live drills. ((Training Holosuite C, Deck 9, USS Thor)) It was a strange feeling to step out of the quarterdeck, walk down the hall, and then step into a holographic representation of the same quarterdeck. Immediately upon starting the simulation Wes determined he did not like it. It was disorienting. How could he even know if he ever left the holodeck if the simulation looked and felt exactly like being aboard the ship. Wes visibly shook his head to clear the thought. Surrounding him and anxiously chatting with each other were seven Marines in full equipment. The lighting of the simulated room was normal, but diodes built into the walls gently flashed yellow indicating the alert status of the ship. This was going to be their first try at a damage control simulation after Sirok’s classes and Wes was sure the chief engineer was going to be putting his Marines through their paces. For their part, the teams talked amongst themselves and watched the officers calmly. At least as long as they thought Sirok wasn't listening to them. Sirok: We are on yellow alert, move on. :: Sirok: It was hard to tell if the Vulcan was saying it in an informative way or half a lecture, because of his monochordly tone. :: At the sound of the Vulcan’s voice, Wes and most of the Marines turned to face the Vulcan. Sirok: For the purposes of this training I will not act as chief engineer, someone must supervise. We can use a more impartial arbiter later, perhaps Commander Teller. Given our current area of operation on the Thor, it simulates a battle with tzenkethi ships. Greaves: Sounds like as good of a plan as any. Let’s get started. Wes turned to the group of Marines and began addressing them. Greaves: Alright, here’s the deal. We just hit yellow alert while in Tzenkethi space. Per the regs, you all were on duty and raced to the quarterdeck, geared up. What happens next is on you, and the simulation. Take Chief Sirok’s classes to heart, and we’ll do just fine. ::motioning to Sirok and himself:: We’ll be monitoring your progress from here. Any questions? Wes looked about the room at the assembled group. Aside from a few glances, and one imperceptible comment in the back, no one made any indication of wanting to speak. Greaves: Very well then. Computer, begin simulation. Immediately the room shook as if the Thor had taken a violent impact and the yellow flashing lights on the walls shifted to an angry red. Wes shot a dirty look toward the Vulcan who designed the training simulation. Greaves: oO He’s not giving us any down time in this sim Oo All the rooms turned red followed by the alarm buzzing indicating that the ship was on red alert. Sirok: Now everyone must go to the designated red alert stations. :: The Vulcan had configured the simulation so that the physical effects of the simulation would not affect him, so that when the ship had a first shock, he stood still, like a column, looking at his padd. He had never looked so much like an artificial being as he did at that moment. :: Another teeth rattling tremor rocked through the room and the Marines looked back and forth between one another, not exactly sure what to do. Sirok looked up from his padd when he noticed that the Marines were not moving. Sirok: If you studied the documents that have been administered, you should be able to know where you have to go. If you have not, think, act logically. But move on. ::He looked at Greaves in case he wanted to add anything else.:: Wes didn’t exactly shout, although his voice was no longer at a conversational volume. His face and body language wasn’t that of a furious man, but he obviously was not relaxed. His words and his posture suggested something else altogether. Something that the assembled group had no desire to discover the true meaning of. Greaves: It’s not play time. You’re Starfleet Marines and your ship is under attack. Do something. It was obvious the group hadn’t studied or prepared for the exercise and cold rage burned within Wes’ chest. He had a certain style of leadership that centered on mutual respect. He treated all of his subordinates like the grown men and women they were, and he expected them to adhere to their responsibilities as such. The obvious lack of preparation was a spit in his face and Wes intended to correct that attitude following the simulation. Fortunately, a few of the group had studied, and they quickly took charge, snapping the trainees out of their stupor and into action. Within a few seconds, the simulated quarterdeck emptied for all but Sirok and Greaves. The Marines broke off into two teams and scattered across the holographic recreation of the ship. Sirok: Both teams are far behind their designated position. They're not taking the optimal route. :: He shook his head slightly, foreseeing what would happen.:: Greaves: :Stroking his chin:: Seems so. It’s pretty obvious they aren’t even remotely ready for this duty yet. ::gazing off into the distance:: Oh, we’re going to play games after this... Sirok raised his eyebrow at Greaves' comment. Sirok: I just think they have decided not to read the protocols properly. Immediately after his comment, a huge impact was felt on the simulation.The Vulcan waved his hand from his padd to one of the walls, where the contents of the padd were projected. In the large projection, a diagram of the Thor could be seen, with colored dots showing the position of the Marine and engineering teams. A yellow area of the ship was shown on Decks 4 and 5, due to the impact of a Tzenkethi weapon. Wes tapped a few buttons on a nearby wall console, and holographic screens appeared to either side of the diagram of the Thor. After a brief pause, the floating screens faded from a dark gray into a video feed of the yellow indicated area. A long corridor stretched off screen, with the camera focused in on an intense blue and yellow jet of flame just outside of a turbolift. From what Wes could gather, his best guess was a ruptured EPS conduit. Greaves: Here comes the first big challenge. Let’s see if they remember how to deal with this. Sirok: At the moment they don't seem to know what to do. ::He touched the padd a couple of times to save that precise moment, for later evaluation.:: The screen showed the damage control team approaching the inferno. Now clad in heat resistant EV suits, the Marines of the ad hoc team attempted to spray flame retardant on the EPS rupture. Sirok: They are only delaying the real problem, they must go to the panel in the next section to make the derivation. Greaves: ::Shaking his head in disappointment:: Yup. They didn’t pay attention at all. The ship took another big jolt, this time the damage was to the secondary hull. Closer to the antimatter containers. Apparently the battle was not going well for the Thor. Sirok: So far the damage would only cause some personnel casualties and damage to secondary systems, but if they don't help contain the problems near the antimatter, the simulation will be over. Greaves: Agreed. They’re not going to put out the fire from that EPS conduit until they redirect the flow anyway. If they don’t start thinking…. Wes trailed off as he watched the pair of video screens. While the left most screen continued to surveil the team battling the raging inferno on deck five, the other monitor clearly showed another Marine damage control team approaching the antimatter storage tanks. The teams approached the danger without hesitation, perhaps because they knew it was a simulation. But there was a sense of improvisation in tackling the problem, rather than knowledge and organization. Greaves: If containment is lost on that storage tank, it’s all over. At least one of the teams is thinking right. Sirok: The antimatter leaves virtually no room for improvisation. The floating diagram hovering in front of Sirok clearly showed angry red indicators surrounding main engineering and the antimatter storage tanks. Multiple EPS conduits spewed jets of plasma into the compartment, flickering brightly in high winds. The environmental controls fought against a small hull breach that hadn’t been sealed by a force field, and the oxygen being pumped into the compartment created a harsh wind as it was sucked out into the simulated vacuum. Greaves: Did you program that or is it a random simulation? Sirok: There are a number of base situations that appear randomly. Depending on how they help control damage, Thor will either improve or worsen her combat performance. If the damage is not controlled, the ship will be destroyed. Greaves: That’s pretty challenging for their first run through the gauntlet. Sirok: The events they faced, for the most part, appeared as examples in the technical documentation given to them. The more complicated ones, but those that will appear less, require using their technical knowledge in an inferential way. Greaves: Fair enough. You’re the chief, and they’ll be working for you if we find ourselves in a situation like this for real. Wes watched as the Marines braced themselves against the wind. One stand out in the group pointed enthusiastically toward the hull breach. Greaves: Seems like with the ruptured conduits, there isn’t enough power for the automatic force fields to engage. Sirok: Cascade failures begin. They can still divert power and get the force field going. Wes watched in surprise. As the pair of officers spoke, the Marines hurried to reroute power in the compartment. Almost as soon as they had mentioned it, the EPS conduits stopped spewing plasma, and power was restored to the compartment, sealing the hull breach. A smile grew on his face, his chest swelling with pride. Greaves: Well, I’ll be… they managed it well. Wes noticed a new indicator on Sirok’s diagram. A long snaking line that ran directly underneath the antimatter storage was now flashing red. Sirok: A plasma fire is reaching the power system of the containers. ::He didn't have to explain to Wes that a failure in the containment field would cause the antimatter to touch the matter in the container itself. Which would result in an uncontrolled release of energy that would destroy the entire ship. Sirok: They have one minute to put out that fire. Wes watched the right most video feed as several of the Marines high fived each other, oblivious to the simulated problem below their feet. On the left screen the damage control team still attempted to suppress the plasma fire on deck 5 with flame retardant to no avail. A silent countdown slowly ticked away the time remaining to containment failure on Sirok’s overlay. Greaves: They’re too busy celebrating their small win to even notice the new problem. Wes watched in silence as one of the Marines near main engineering finally recognized the imminent failure, too late to matter unfortunately. Both screens flashed bright white momentarily. Computer: Simulation Complete. Antimatter containment field failure. USS Thor destroyed. The room in which Sirok and Wes were standing, which had previously been an immaculate representation of the Marine Quarterdeck, was replaced with the black walls and orange grid pattern of a holodeck. In one far corner of the huge room was the damage control team from engineering and in the other corner was the team from deck 5. Wes shook his head in awe. The number of calculations and the sheer processing power it took to allow three groups of people to explore a ship in a single holodeck without bumping into each other, or the walls, was impressive. The two damage control teams took a moment to reorient themselves to the change in the environment before making their way over toward Wes and Sirok. They knew they had failed miserably, and they approached with bowed heads, not wanting to make eye contact with the two officers. Greaves: ::sternly:: It is exceptionally obvious that you all disregarded the classwork and technical reading that Chief Sirok assigned. Your performance was down right awful. At any moment we could be thrust into a combat situation, and one way you’re going to keep the Thor fighting is to make sure it doesn’t explode. Wes paused his lecture to size up the Marines and let his next words sink in. Greaves: Usually I’m proud to serve with each and every one of you, but today I’m overwhelmed with disappointment. Wes let his gaze sweep across each Marine, none of which were willing to return the look. Finally he turned to Sirok. Sirok: The task at hand was not easy. But a lack of knowledge has been noted. Improvisation is useful up to a point, but to use it correctly you need to have enough knowledge. Still, congratulations on solving problems 3A and 6C. ::Sirok used a technique to help sentimental beings accept criticism. Start and end with something positive. It was something he was trying to use with his own crewmen and so far it wasn't giving him bad results.:: Greaves: ::glowering and with a reluctant voice:: Agreed. Sirok: If you have any doubt about the material, or need to practice any particular circumstance do not hesitate to consult. What you are learning will help you to work better with other crew members, not only on the Thor but on any other starship or space station where you are posted. The assembled teams still refused to make eye contact, but seemed to have regained some of their composure at the Vulcan’s reassurances. Greaves: There’s a saying I’m fond of. Amateurs train until they get it right. Professionals train until they can’t get it wrong. ::Looking over the Marines:: We’ve got a long way to go until we can’t screw that up again. Looks like we’re just going to have to keep practicing. End ========================= First Lieutenant Wes Greaves Acting Marine Detachment Commander USS Thor - NCC 82607 E239702WG0 & Ensign Sirok Acting Chief Engineering Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 Fleet Captain A. Kells, Commanding E239702S10
  2. Shore leave is a great time to ... sort out all the paperwork 😛 I always look forward to @Alex Brodie's mission reports at the end of a mission! Maybe I should get more paperwork done, so I can enjoy shore leave haha
  3. The geeky pride I have right now is off the charts. It's only outmatched by my gratitude to the folks that took the time out to put a nomination in Congrats to all the other winners and to my fellow Vikings bringing the shiny trophies home to the Thor! P.s - a huge thank you to @Tony (Kells) for kind words in the presentation too!
  4. Congrats folks! Lovely dedications that reflect the work of our amazing staff members - thanks for all you do behind the scenes
  5. Great to see such talent and commitment recognised across the fleet. Extra big cheers to Vikings bringing trophies back to the Thor!
  6. Congratulations to all those recognised - great to see the hard work and dedication in shiny ribbons Such a great group to write with and to learn from!
  7. First, I'd check to see if we could make do with the doppelgänger ... maybe it's a great time to get the captain house trained? If we're pulling up short with the doppelgänger, then Ben would clock in some annual leave, grab a shuttle and take a few select crew to extract the old, less dysfunctional captain. 😛
  8. Intrepid class. Because then I could look out the porthole and go "it's Janeway! - get the coffee ready". Specs wise, we'd probably toast haha
  9. Tough one between TNG and Voyager. Voyager just wins out. Something epic about it that links to the perseverance of trying to find their way back home.
  10. Hey! You've found a great place to sim 😊 The Academy is really fun (I still remember mine with @Jo Marshall and @Addison MacKenzie - it was great!) Hope your enjoying it so far!
  11. Ben Garcia

    Hello

    *waves* Hope the application is going well :) The Academy will help you get the hang of it, and they're really switched on and helpful. It's a fun process!
  12. The replicator ... imagine having to boil an actual kettle ... 😛
  13. The junior officers hold the founding meeting of the JOPA (Junior Officer Protection Association) in this epic joint point! I like it for three reasons. First, the JOPA is a neat conceit to get newly assigned junior officers together and bond. Second, the joint post itself gets the characters and their backgrounds introduced (super helpful OOC wise). Third, the collaboration and organisation that has gone into making this post happen is neat! ((Kofi Bar Patio, Duronis II)) The 32-year-old man stood next to a large wicker table with seats for eight. The view was gorgeous, overlooking sun-kissed beaches on the waterfront. The sun, low in the sky this late in the afternoon, beamed over the sand, stretching for miles in either direction along the coast. Beachgoers could be seen enjoying themselves in the water just a hundred meters away. The ocean breeze swept across the patio. Wes’ short-sleeved shirt, white with a black grid pattern on it, rippled in the light breeze. He wore it unbuttoned with a tight-fitting dark green T-shirt underneath and beige shorts. The wind brushed at the edges of the loose clothing. Having encouraged the other officers to come relaxed, he had dressed for the warm sunny weather. The scent of the saltwater and the sea was relaxing, and Wes sat down at the table to wait for the rest of the junior officers to arrive. Seeing the first walking through the interior of the half restaurant half club, Wes waved and called out. Greaves: Out here on the patio. The weather is perfect to sit outside! Dar walked out onto the patio and gave Greaves a subtle wave back with a smile. Dar: The weather is almost perfection and thank you for inviting me. Greaves: Of course! The whole point of this shindig is to get all of us together. The filthy senior officers are no match for a cohesive group of us! She grabbed a chair and sat down as the others began to arrive, she was curious as to what this was about. She had chosen to wear a loose-fitting pair of beige slacks and a maroon sleeveless vest with a pair of sandals, she was glad to see she was not overdressed. Wes looked around and didn’t see anyone else approaching yet, so he decided to try and carry on a conversation. He was never great at small talk. Put him in a big group setting, and he could joke and vibe with the best of them. One on one and Wes just stumbled over his words and felt awkward. Greaves: oO No better way to get better with small talk than to do it! Oo So, I know we met once already right before the mission, but it was brief and we all were busy. To try again, I’m Wes Greaves. You seem a little old to be a junior Ensign. Join Starfleet late, or were you prior-enlisted? Dar couldn’t help but chuckle at Greaves candid and very direct approach to his question pertaining to her age and she knew that it was bound to be only a matter of time before someone mentioned it. Dar: Well, yes I am a bit more seasoned than the rest and yes I was enlisted before...a few years back but I returned to Bajor to work with the government. As she spoke she peered up seeing the familiar stoic form of Dr Alieth approached. Alieth arrived at the meeting place neither too early nor too late, but just when she intended to. For the occasion, she had chosen to dress in civilian clothes, something she rarely did since she had joined Starfleet. The young Vulcan wore a high-collared tunic that stretched to the floor, producing a soft rustle with every move. It was a traditional garment of multiple shades of gray and copper, which left only her face and hands exposed, which she was able to conceal within the wide sleeves. Or, that she would do so if it had not been for the tray she carried on her hands. Over it was a steaming teapot and half a dozen minute cups. Alieth: Mister Greaves, Miss Dar. :: She said as a greeting while she placed her load on the table. :: Is everyone here? Wes smiled as the Vulcan appeared on the patio with tea. He had been drinking the stuff Alieth had introduced him to every morning along with his coffee and he had finally begun getting used to the shock of the taste and the caffeine-like energy it gave him. Greaves: Alieth, glad you could make it. And with tea even! Is it the kind of tea I think it is? Alieth: :: Nodding solemnly. :: Indeed, I considered that it might be a suitable method to...:: She remained silent for a second, in search of the proper Terran proverb. :: ... to break the ice. Greaves: Great idea! I could use a pick-me-up. Pour me a cup? Alieth: By all means. The Vulcan took a seat in one of the vacant chairs amidst a flurry of greyish fabric. When she finally settled down on the seat and began to pour a couple of minute cups of the sour-smelling liquid, her outfit had arranged itself around her in such fashion that it seemed as disciplined and stoic as the doctor herself. Alieth pushed one of the cups towards Wes and took another for herself, cradling in between her slender finger to warm her hands. The weather was mild for the first time since they had arrived to the planet, the heat of the twin suns were almost agreeable. The nearby beach was, however, disconcerting to the Vulcan: the combination of the familiar sands with the sight of the massive body of water and the salty smell it produced was alien to her, no matter how many times she experienced it. Dar watched Alieth as she seemed to be agreeing with the current mood that was being set by the table. It was rather relaxing here on the patio, the weather was fine, the sun was warm and the company did seem agreeable. Dar: Anymore to come still? She took a sip of her coffee as she waited for Wes to respond. Greaves: Looks like we’re still missing a couple of the others … :: He paused noticing another Starfleet Officer. :: Oh wait, it looks like … Wilkins just got here too. Tara made her way to the table where she saw two people already sitting down. She knew the Vulcan medical officer, but she recognized Wes from when they had lunch earlier. Tara was holding a bowl of mixed fruit as she sat down with the three of them. She was dressed informally with some form-fitting pants that went down to her ankle and a top that had short sleeves with a dropping neckline. Tara: Thank you for inviting us here Wes, and please call me Tara. We’re off duty now. Greaves: Long time no-see Tara :: Winking. :: Good to see you again. Tara: Thank you for lunch earlier. It was lovely. Greaves: o0 Okay, was she taking that wink out of context? Oo I had a good time too. It’s been nice to have some down time to meet up with people after that mission. Alieth poured a couple more cups, pushing them in front of the other women. Then the Vulcan took care of her own tiny teacup and took a small sip. Alieth: I realize we have not had the opportunity to formally introduce ourselves. :: Turning slightly to face the Trill. :: I'm Doctor Alieth, Ensign Wilkins, I presume? Tara: That’s correct. I think we met briefly when the shuttle went down. Alieth: :: Nodding soberly. :: I have been unable to visit the science tower to retrieve the residual anaesthetic I left on your facility. I hope that I have not caused you any inconvenience. Tara: No inconvenience at all. Honestly, I haven’t been in the science tower myself. I’ve been enjoying my down time instead of working. She gave Wilkins a smile and a slight nod. Dar: Ensign Dar Elandra, I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting yet. At that moment another Vulcan approached the table. Dar: oO How many Vulcan officers are here?Oo Dar offered him a curt but polite smile as she took another sip of her coffee. Greaves: :: Noticing the Vulcan approaching the table. :: And last but not least, here’s Sirok. Sirok joined the group, wearing a long gray Vulcan-style robe, it was a sober and elaborately manufactured garment. The Vulcan engineer was looking out over the beach more than the people around him. The weather seemed suitable for such a meeting. At the academy he used to skip that kind of reunions, always having something to study or practice on. Since he had arrived at the embassy he had always had something to do and was partly there on the recommendation of his superior officer. But also he found it logical to know the officers he was going to work with, and for emotional beings it was useful to create bonds to do their job. As he approached them he saluted by bowing his head slightly. He went over to the table and pulled up a chair to sit down. In a way, Sirok moved as he spoke in a robotic way. His way of suppressing feelings was reflected in everything he did. Greaves: Well looks like we’re all here finally. Let’s get sta.... As Wes announced the arrival of all parties, he was interrupted by a short red-headed waitress who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Sami: Hello everyone, welcome to the Kofi Bar. My name is Sami and I’ll be taking care of you all today. I see that you’ve gotten tea and fruit already. Can I get anyone started with some more drinks or appetizers? At the mention of food, Wes’ stomach growled in protest for the third time that day. Greaves: Getting started can wait, let’s get drinks and some food. :: Half turning in his chair toward the waitress. :: I’d like a Jack and Coke please, and a plate of vegetarian :: winking at Alieth. :: nachos for the table. Wes offered a beaming smile to the waitress and turned toward the rest of the gathered officers to let them order. Alieth bowed her head to the deference the Marine showed to Vulcan food preferences. Sirok was going to try the tea that Alieth brought, but part of the gathering ritual seemed to consist of consuming products from the place where they had gathered. Sirok: Spice tea, if you do not have one, a juice of your choice. Dar: Another cup of coffee, black no sugar and no milk. Tara: A glass of your best white wine, please. Alieth: Plomeek tea :: She tilted her head to the side before adding. :: Black coffee if it is not available. A drink native to the host's home world sounded like a fitting accompaniment to the gathering. Sami arrived shortly after with the first round of orders. The drinks were distributed around the table efficiently, while the woman never blurred the wide smile painted across her face. When all the refreshments had been served in front of the guests, the chirpy Laudean retraced the short journey to the counter and then came back with some appetisers. Alieth blinked with astonishment at what was in front of her. It was a sort of sliced... something... roughly triangular, covered with a thick, green, radioactive-looking sauce. On one side of the plate there was a handful of dark, steaming beans, and on the other a pile of carefully cut vegetables, among which the Vulcan could recognize onions, tomatoes, and various types of peppers. The dish itself did not seem intimidating, but the absence of instruments to consume it was frankly disturbing. Alieth stared at the plate for 5.44 seconds before turning to the waitress. Alieth: Provide me with a set of chopsticks. :: Looking at Sirok. :: Preferably two sets. Sirok nodded, not as a sign of gratitude; that was a feeling. He simply confirmed to Alieth that he wanted a pair of chopsticks, as most Vulcans try not to touch food, so it was a good solution to follow the ritual of sharing food in a group and not having to touch it with your hands. Wes leaned back in his chair. As the waitress departed again to fill everyone’s orders, the warm afternoon sun was beginning to peak under the awning over the patio. In a matter of moments the table was bathed in direct sunlight. Greaves: Okay. :: With emphasis on the word. :: Now let’s get started. The human paused to take a sip of the tea Alieth had brought. Greaves: So, I know I laid it out in the e-mail, but the JOPA is an informal organization for all of us junior officers to get together. The target audience is the first two ranks of officers. Ensigns and Junior Grades for you folks. Second and First Lieutenants for us in the Marines. Really the goal is to share ideas, share professional education amongst each other, let off steam from work, and have fun together to build camaraderie. Wes took another sip of his tea and looked around for the waitress, hoping some food was coming soon. Greaves: Today, I’d like us to get to know each other a little better, decide how formally we’d like to run the JOPA, and then have some fun together. This is as good of a place as any. So to start, let’s introduce ourselves. I’ll start. I’m Wes Greaves. I’m from Seattle Washington on Earth. I joined the Starfleet Marines when I was 18, became a combat engineer as an enlisted man, and eventually decided to become an officer. Not married, no kids, and I’m an only child. Not much family to speak of, but both of my parents are still alive and living happily back on Earth. In my free time, I love to run, read, and I dabble in photography. Mainly nature and landscapes. :: Pausing. ::. And that’s me. Anyone else care to share? Alieth: My name is Alieth, daughter of Saros and N'Keth. I am a native of Chi-ree, in Xial province, in Vulcan :: Probably that would tell little to the non-Vulcans present, after all Xial was the province of the planet least familiar to off-worlders. :: I started my training at the VSA before moving to San Francisco, where I graduated from the Starfleet Medical Academy. Alieth took a second to compile the data that Wes provided before she continued following his example. Alieth: My parents are alive and in a satisfactory state of health. I have an older sister and a younger brother. My current marital status is un-bonded. The Vulcan took another pause, considering what part of her daily activities might be considered as recreational by human standards. Once she found a suitable activity, she resumed her speech. Alieth: Outside the medical centre, I care for lesser beings whose health has been compromised. And I prune plants. :: She added eventually, in the light of the latest developments. :: Dar listened to the introductions as they went around first Wes, then Alieth and now it was her turn. She was quite a bit older than most of them and she was sure that most of them knew about the history of Bajor, it was part of the Starfleet syllabus after all. Dar: My name is Elandra, Dar is my, as you terrans would call it, surname. In Bajoran culture it is always said first then the name anyways I digress. I was born on Bajor in a Cardassian Internment Camp, Batal which was liberated by Bajoran resistance fighters when I was 11. She took a sip of her coffee as she gave the others a few minutes to process what she was telling them. Dar: Long story short I joined the resistance at 16 fought till Cardassia withdrew, joined the Bajoran Military, when the Dominon war started I decided to join Starfleet. :: She paused. :: Well that was a few years back I took a long break after my son was born and returned to Bajor to raise him. Well he’s older now and here I am. She took another long swig of her coffee waiting for the next person to speak. Tara: Hello my name is Tara Wilkins. Wilkins is my family name. If I was joined, which I am not, I would be taking on the symbiont’s name as my last name. I grew up in Gheryzan located on Trill. I studied science at Manev University, which is also located on Trill. I then went to Earth where I was a doctoral student in Xenology at Princeton University. I joined Starfleet when I was twenty-six-years-old. I was placed in the six-week Starfleet Academy Preparatory Program. I joined Starfleet because I wanted to explore the universe. Go where no one has gone before. That type of thing. Tara popped a grape in her mouth. While the others were completing their presentation, Sirok tasted his drink. As he assumed they didn't have the Vulcan drink so they brought him the juice. He didn't know its precedence but it seemed appropriate. And in the time that the others had been presenting themselves Sami had been able to bring the chopsticks and could taste that traditional food. He did not find it so adequate. Sirok: I am Sirok son of S'Vek and T'Lil. I was born in the region of Kyr on the planet Vulcan. :: Unlike Alieth's parents his family was known in certain areas of Vulcan society, especially in the rich region of Kyr. :: I have an older brother and I am un-bonded. Sirok: As a complement to my work activities, I practice suus mahna to maintain my physical condition and I draw by hand mechanical pieces as a method of concentration and memory improvement. Alieth: :: Tilting her head to the left. :: I had the knowledge that Osu S'Vec of Kyr had only one male progeny, his heir Sopeg. Sirok: My parents decided to keep me out of public life. Alieth: A decidedly unusual arrangement. Sirok: My brother is more than enough to take the lead of the family in the future, which has allowed me to develop my career in Starfleet. Alieth nodded at that explanation. It was a logical conclusion, albeit one that did not fully justify why one of Kyr's most prominent families had concealed the existence of one of its members for several decades. However, prying was a decidedly un-Vulcan behaviour, so she refrained from further inquiries. While the group went through introductions Wes grabbed a small plate and began piling some of the Nachos onto it. The Vulcans’ earlier request for chopsticks had been worth a good laugh to Wes, but he kept his amusement to himself. Biting into the first chip, Wes listened as Sirok finished up. He took a sip of his drink before addressing the group again. Greaves: Great! Good to get to know everyone a little better. On to more business. I figure we have two things we should all agree on for the group. First, how do we want to run the JOPA? I’ve seen things be satirically formal, or just an informal gathering. Personally I have my preference, but I won’t taint the conversation. What do you all think? Alieth took the chopsticks that Sami had supplied her with, split them up with the elegance that came with custom, and guided them to the plate in the centre of the table. She tried to catch one of the triangles sunk in the sauce but despite all her skill the edge cracked, leaving her with nothing between the chopsticks but thin air. Before she attempted a second try, she opted to answer the Marine. Alieth: Formal or informal makes no difference for me. :: Looking at her table partners. :: I delegate that decision onto you. With no more to add at this time, she focused again on attempting to catch one of the triangles. After five rounds, her endeavours remained largely fruitless. Dar listened to everyone, placing her now empty coffee cup down on the table before her she stretched a little in her chair. While they spoke she dished a plate of the nachos for herself. She couldn’t recall ever having tasted them before but she definitely smelled something spicy. Sirok: Perhaps a more formal structure will serve to set the ground rules and once established we can act more out of habits. It seemed to Sirok the most logical way to act with emotional beings. If the norm became a habit, it would be easier for them to maintain a basic structure. After talking, he continued to taste the juice that had been brought to him. Tara: I would rather keep it informal myself. Something a little laid back, so we can unwind. Greaves: Well if we do things formally we should identify positions for the group. A senior member as the leader, and set some recurring times for a get together. We could even go so far as to call the group to order, have an agenda and the such. Wes took another bite of the dripping nachos from his plate. He realized his mistake too late however, as he hadn’t finished his thought. There was a brief pause of indecisiveness, and eventually the man just spoke through a mouthful of food. Greaves: Personally, I prefer informal. He swallowed the last of the chip in his mouth and followed it up with a sip of his drink. Greaves: Ultimately, majority rules. Looks like our Vulcan comrades prefer a formal arrangement. :: Playful smirk toward Sirok and Alieth. :: And myself and Tara prefer informal get-togethers. Dar, you’re the tie breaker. What do you think? Dar watched Greaves shovel the nachos and speak through them, trying not to reveal the amused expression that was threatening to break free from her face. Sitting up a little straighter, a silence for a moment before she spoke. She was now regretting not having ordered. Dar: I would have to agree on a more informal structure, too many head chefs can sour the dough. She picked up a fork, forgoing the fingers and chopsticks the others seemed to opt to eat and took a mouth full of the nacho’s, the texture was different but it was nice, surprisingly so. Crunchy and spicy...she paused...a little too spicy. Coughing slightly, she swallowed quickly as the spice from what she could only assume was chillies. Alieth: So this is done. :: The Vulcan sentenced when Dar leaned the election towards one of the options. :: Greaves: :: Nodding. :: So that’s settled then. The next thing are traditions and the character of the JOPA. This is unique to our group and really extends to whatever we come up with and all agree on. What kind of ideas do you all have for things we can do within the JOPA? Traditions, rituals, rights of passage, unique roles within the group, etcetera. It’s all on the table. What do you got? Sirok: If the objective is to help junior officers, any officer who is a junior ensign or lieutenant should be able to join the association. By the same token, anyone who becomes a senior officer would leave the association. Alieth nodded at the other Vulcan's contribution before she spoke. Alieth: Given the private and protective nature of this association in regard with other Junior Officers, it is essential to establish confidentiality of what happens or is shared in these meetings. The minute doctor took a moment to re-word it in a more concise manner. Alieth: The first rule of JOPA is: you do not talk about JOPA. The second rule of JOPA is: you DO NOT talk about what happens in the JOPA. Tara: This is all new to me. I was thinking the main thing about JOPA was for us to share ideas and vent our frustrations. I never thought about it being ritualistic. I guess I was looking at it as being just a relaxing place to unwind and bond with each other. Greaves: In my mind the traditions or little rituals are more of a thing to bond us together, build camaraderie, and whatnot. I was thinking more like little rites of passage as new members join us and the senior members are promoted out of the group. Little jokes to play on each other to break the ice and keep us engaged. The idea is all in good fun. Here’s a thought, as a send-off to officers promoted out of the group, we get together and roast them as the send-off. Tara: I don’t know what you mean by roasting them. Do you plan on cooking them or something? Alieth acquiesced to the Trill's words. Baking one of their peers didn't seem like an optimal methodology for building camaraderie. With a mouthful of whiskey and cola in his mouth, Wes nearly choked on his laughter. It took several seconds for the unpleasant burning sensation of alcohol in his nostrils to subside before he spoke. Greaves: No, no. My apologies. It’s just an idiom. It means we get together and tell funny stories and jokes at their expense in good fun. A way to remember their exploits, contributions. Their successes, but mostly their failures. Tara: That sounds like that would be okay, but I don’t know about joking about someone’s failures that just seems so cruel. Alieth: Highlighting someone's faults and mistakes is an efficient basis for improvement and it is the duty of their peers to point out these deficiencies. I find it a satisfactory arrangement as a farewell ritual for the group. :: She tilted her head to the side. :: Moreover, I have noticed that the pointing out of faults and defects of one’s acquaintances is a sophisticated humoristic skill on Earth. You all could benefit from the advantages of humour in emotional beings. The Vulcan doctor took a sip of her tea and made another attempt to catch one of the green-sauce coated triangles. To her astonishment, this time she succeeded and finally got a taste of that "appetizer". She nibbled it thoroughly for a long minute. The taste was... foreign. Salty. And much more intense than what she was used to. She found it quite palatable. Once she had found the technique to catch the nachos with the chopsticks, Alieth repeated the process a couple more times, efficiently consuming half a dozen triangles in quick succession. Sirok listened carefully, social rituals were not something he was used to. He found the reason for ordering social behaviour, but the fewer of those rituals he had to satisfy, the more time he could spend on things he considered more important. Even though as a Starfleet officer he recognized what Teller was saying, it would help create camaraderie among emotional beings. Therefore the Vulcan did not have much more to add, so Sirok nodded in agreement with his companions, before taking another sip of his juice. Suddenly it seemed, Wes’ plate of nachos was empty and his glass of both tea and Jack and Coke were drained as well. The man blinked in surprise as he reached for another chip, only to find all of his refreshments already eaten. Looking to the larger plate of nachos, Wes was able to catch a glimpse of the final three chips being rapidly devoured by the chopstick wielding Vulcan woman. Wes took a mental snapshot of the moment as he found it wildly humorous. Greaves: Okay, so let me summarize. :: Counting on his fingers. :: One, we will be informal. No titles or rules of discourse. Two, we don’t mention the JOPA to anyone except members and we don’t talk about it openly. Three, all officers in the first two grades are invited to the group, and we kick out anyone who promotes to Lieutenant or Marine Captian. Four, before we kick someone out of the group, we gather to commemorate their accomplishments and failures, preferably in a humorous method. And finally, the purpose of the JOPA is to share professional knowledge, build camaraderie, and decompress as peers. Wes looked about the table, making brief eye contact with each Ensign at the table. Greaves: Well that sounds like a successful meeting of the JOPA. I hereby rule this meeting adjourned! Now, who wants to explore the city and get some drinks? [End Scene.] JP Written By: 2nd Lieutenant Wes Greaves Marine Officer Embassy of Duronis II/USS Thor E239702WG0 Ensign Alieth Medical Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 Author ID number: E239702A10 Ensign Tara Wilkins Science Officer Duronis II Embassy & Support Flotilla E239702TW0 Ensign Dar Elandra Security Officer Duronis II Embassy/USS Thunder-A C237904DE0 Ensign Sirok Engineering Officer Embassy of Duronis II/USS Thor E239702S10
  14. I enjoyed the cinematography. It was nice to see TNG characters, and what they got up to ... and the nice re-aligning of the timelines with the Mars/Romulan/Synth explanation. Oooh - just thinking about it, I did like how they introduced a new synth higher being too. Some clever moments, ace cinematography, nice catch up with the characters - Season 2, let's turn the heat up a notch!
  15. Enjoying it! Plot has picked up paced, some good lines coming from Picard and lovely cinematography. 👌
  16. ((OOC:- Following the Tal Shiar's failed attack on Admiral Turner's yacht, several of the crew's wounded arrive at sickbay before the senior staff briefing. Originally posted as separate sims, I really like how the characters weave together, organically interacting. This is a retrospective JP with several sims stitched together, so the character perspective shifts from one to the other. Massive salute of respect to @Alieth @Quen Deena @Geoffrey Teller)) ((IC:- Embassy Sickbay, immediately post extraction from Talsion Forest shuttle crash site.)) Deena pushed her upper and lower molars against each other. She couldn’t see the tricorder screen as the nurse adjusted the placement of the clunky, blinking machine attached to her right ankle. He paused for a moment and looked over at her, clearly annoyed to no end. It was a hairline fracture, all right - he’d told her as much before giving her a dose of terakine and starting to set the bone. Rumbolt: Ya need to stay off it, Doc. Osteoregeneration’s gonna take- Quen: -one hour, I know. Deena sat up to fiddle with the controls for the protective forcefield the osteoregenerator created. If she could get it set high enough, she could actually use her right foot to walk. That was, until Rumbolt swatted her hand away. Rumbolt: oO The worst patients - every time! Oo Hey - cut it out. Quen: Ethan - I’ve been hopping around a forest working with a broken ankle for the past, oh I don’t know… two hours, say? I’ll be just fine using the mobility settings. There was, perhaps, a bit more snark than necessary in that remark. He gave up with a tired look and made a small note on the PADD with her chart. Rumbolt: Don’t fight me, Doc. I’m not in the mood. Deena waited until he moved away, then immediately adjusted the field to allow her to walk on her damaged leg. She slid off the biobed and gingerly tested her handiwork. The height difference was awkward, but workable. This would be far easier wearing boots. Trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible, Deena strolled across the room to the replicator. Quen: oO One boot - no way I’m getting anything but a sock over this thing. Eh - might as well just get in uniform while I’m at it. Oo Bundle of replicated clothing in hand, she ducked behind a screen to change as another argument unfolded nearby. Alieth: If you persist in moving disorderly, the treatment will take longer than expected. Ben looked at the doctor and forced a smile as he nodded. The Vulcan's voice was conveniently neutral, though the admonition was clear in her utterance. Puss wept through the epidermis and trickled down the side of Ben’s shin. Flecks of burnt skin dropped to the floor as new cells wove together, expunging the old under the pulsing beam of the dermal-regenerator. Ben gripped the bio-bed’s side-rail. The new skin shone a raw, irritable red. Ben exhaled through gritted teeth. A beading of sweat mottled Ben’s hairline. Garcia: :: Through gritted teeth. :: Itches like they’re still on fire. Ben’s torso seized and tensed as he strained not to scratch at the healing skin; Ben’s knuckles tightened white as he held his grip on the bed’s side rail. Alieth: That means you are healing adequately. You should cherish that sensation, Lieutenant. :: The Vulcan kept working on Garcia's upper left thigh. Overall, the skin looked normal and healthy, quite different from the burnt and oozing mess that the human had initially arrived at sickbay with. :: The skin will be tender for a few days, I recommend that you avoid any strenuous activity until the internal tissues have fully healed. Garcia: :: Ben fought hard to keep a tone of warmth in his voice. :: Got it Doc. :: Ben inhaled a hissed breath. :: There’ll be plenty of bed rest once we’ve got the CMO back from the Romulans. Alieth pursed her lips minutely by way of answer, but she refrained from arguing more with the senior officer, instead she turned to the adjacent trolley to resume the treatment. On the trolley, a grey tub was packed with a silky white cream. Poking out the top was a spatula. Alieth: I will apply a layer of dermaline gel. I think you will find its effects comforting, sir. Garcia: Ready. :: Nodding heavily. :: Go for it. The cream enveloped the regenerated skin in a cool calming balm. Ben’s hands relaxed and held on loosely to the side rails. Groggy and disoriented, Geoff Teller awoke to the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling. Consciousness and memory returned slowly as he tried, and failed, to lift his head. Somewhere nearby, voices caught his attention but he couldn't make them out. Garcia: :: Laughing in relief. :: Could’ve smeared the cream on first Doc. Alieth: :: Raising an eyebrow. :: But in that case the treatment would have been inefficient. Ben looked at the Doctor with a confused smile. With Ben’s treatment nearly complete, Alieth opened one of the trolley's drawers and pulled out a small tray she had replicated minutes earlier. Over it were placed the caricatured figures of a powerful terran predator from the Ursidae family dyed in five bright colours. Alieth: :: Offering the gummy bears to Garcia. :: I have been informed that humans found the consumption of sucrose after a medical treatment to be highly comforting. I recommend the red one, it is the most commonly chosen. :: Tilting the head to one side. :: It is also the one I find most palatable. Garcia: :: Ben pursed his lips with a smile and then spoke. :: High praise. :: Ben shrugged. :: Red it is, Doc. Ben raised an eyebrow at the doc: Alieth’s bedside manner was … distinct. Ben sat up and pulled his legs to his chest. The cream had extinguished the itching. Now, apart from the red raw patches, and the singed hairs, the skin was fully restored. Ben collapsed back onto the bed, his muscles relaxing for the first time since the attack on his shuttle in which the helm conduit blew, charring his legs in the ensuing fire. Having seen that Ben was well attended to, Deena looked over at Teller. She hadn’t seen Teller since he’d gone in for surgery. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully for now, though a glance over the PADD slotted at the end of his bed told her that it was more likely a combination of strong analgesics and residual anesthetic. Lights on the osteoregenerators immobilizing his arm and ribs indicated that the bones were around fifty percent healed. A good, strong start to be certain, but still a ways to go. Not wanting to step on the new doctor’s toes, Deena waited until Alieth had moved off to approach and check in on her friend, Ben. She leaned casually against the neighboring biobed as she watched him visibly relax for the first time since he’d come across her in the forest. Ben opened his eyes to find a familiar face obstructing the glare of the ceiling lamps. Quen: :: Playfully. :: So - is red the best flavor? Garcia: Hmmm. :: Ben pointed with his chin. :: Need to distract the Doc and test the others … :: Ben’s eyes narrowed. :: Make an informed judgement. Quen: How you feeling? Ben stretched his legs out. The red raw skin shone under the strip lighting. Garcia: :: Playfully. :: Like a … :: Ben smiled. :: smooth lobster … ? Quen: :: Smiling back. :: I wanted to say thank you. For helping me out back there- Before Ben could reply, a faint voice bled through the conversation. It was Teller, and his call tugged on Deena and Alieth’s Hippocratic strings; the two doctors made straight for the recuperating First Officer. Looking down, Teller could see his uniform had been removed and much of his shoulder and arm was covered in dermaplast trauma pads, and his arm itself was immobilized, small blinking devices sitting every few centimeters. oO At least it's still there. Oo Geoff took a deep breath and found his ribs equally restrained, but at least the pain was gone. He could feel his faculties returning more quickly as he looked around and one thing more than any other was forcing its way to the front of his mind. He was absolutely furious. He'd been shot out of the sky, had half a shuttle land on him, and then to top it all off his good friend had been taken right in front of him, and he'd been unable to do anything about it. With gritted teeth, Teller began forcing himself to sit up. He had to get back on duty. Teller: Doctor...little help please… Sickbay’s most severe patient was struggling to sit up, contravening all medical recommendations, not the greatest move for someone who had suffered a concussion as severe as he had. By now Deena was at Teller’s bed side. Quen: Easy - take it slow…. Give yourself time to adjust. Alieth returned to the conversation with a coolly neutral tone, but highly irritated words. Alieth: Desist from your attempts to incorporate, sir, your condition is still concerning. Ben called over the humdrum. Garcia: :: Conspiratorially. :: Don’t let them keep a good man down, sir. Teller nodded to the man. Teller: Good flying, Mr. Garcia. Top three crash landing for me, easily. And Doctor, I appreciate your concerns but if I'm in no immediate danger, the rest of my injuries can mend themselves on the go. Garcia: :: Laughing. :: Imagine if I’d taken the auto-pilot off. Ben wasn’t helping things for Deena and Alieth, but he jested out of relief - relief he hadn’t killed the First Officer. Quen: You’re not in immediate danger, no - but your body needs time to heal. If you don’t give it that time, you’ll likely wind up back here with an infection or worse. And, you’re still coming off anesthesia. Alieth: This is not how medicine works, sir. We have just performed a major operation on you, sir, you should at least rest for... Turner: =/\= ATTENTIONS ALL SENIOR STAFF MEMBERS. PLEASE MEET ME IN CONFERENCE ROOM 1 AS SOON AS YOU ARRIVE AT THE EMBASSY FOR A BRIEFING. TURNER OUT. =/\= Deena all but rolled her eyes. Impeccable timing, as usual. But on the one hand, a briefing couldn’t be that strenuous of an activity. That was usually reserved for the results of briefings. Teller looked to the ceiling with a raised eyebrow, then began sliding off the biobed onto unsteady legs, supporting himself with his good arm. Alieth lunged forward to grip him around the waist before he had a chance to stumble. Teller was about to start heading to the briefing room when he realized several significant flaws in his plan. The first was that he had no idea where Briefing Room 1 was. The second was that he had no pants. The latter seemed more urgent. Teller: Uh, Doc, you got a replicator around here somewhere? Seems I'm out of uniform. Quen: I’ll grab you one. Speaking of- :: With a nod to Garcia’s now mostly-healed legs. :: Let me wrap those, and you can swap for an uncooked one. Ben froze. His face paled as he held another of Doctor Alieth’s gummy bears millimeters from his mouth. Ben bit his lip, arched an eyebrow at Deena and flicked the gummy bear into his mouth. Ben held a finger against his grinning lips. Deena started applying a fresh set of dressings to Ben’s legs as Alieth and Teller started a new argument. With her back to Ben and Deena, Alieth continued to berate the First Officer, speaking firmly as her eyebrows descended gently on her features, which gave her an even more severe aspect than usual. Alieth: I refuse to allow you to perform such an unreasonable deed, sir. Teller: Look Doctor, I'm going to that briefing with or without your help. Personally, I'd prefer, and I think the rest of the crew would agree, that I show up in uniform and under proper medical supervision. He met eyes with their young Vulcan Doctor and did not blink. He had felt useless when the Romulans had snatched Addison, and he felt useless lying on his back on a comfortable biobed as the crew was called to action. On some level, Teller was entirely aware that he was nearly dead on his feet, but a potent mix of modern medical science and raw anger had given him a second wind. He intended to make the most of it while it lasted. The Doctors expression did not change from the level impassive slate her people were famous for, but Teller saw a small shift around the edge of her eyes. The Vulcan held Teller's gaze for a few long seconds. Technically speaking, the situation unfolding was decidedly Not Funny Not Funny At All. Maybe it was the pain meds kicking in, but Deena found the argument between a completely logical Vulcan doctor and a human man hell-bent on getting out of here one way or another undeniably hilarious. Alieth: :: Gently but firmly leading the commander to the nearest replicator. :: Agreed, but I will keep you under close supervision, sir. Deena looked to Ben with a raise of her eyebrows. Watching the battle of wills play out was far, far more interesting than playing mediator. Ben tilted his head at Deena. A smile crept across Ben’s face as Alieth continued to chastise the First Officer. Alieth: I am going to abstain from supplying you with a sugary treat, sir. You are clearly a troublemaker. Teller pursed his lips for a moment, genuinely chastened. He'd been irritating Doctors since the earliest days of his career but he'd never been admonished for it in quite the same way. After a moment, he barked out a genuine laugh. Geoff could already tell the young woman had the makings of a fine officer - fierce but compassionate. Stern but flexible. Dry sense of humor. When Doctor MacKenzie returned, Teller was confident she'd find a very capable addition to her staff. Ben caught a laugh from escaping and looked at Deena, mouthing “troublemaker” with a cheeky smile. Deena gnawed the inside of her cheek and shook her head as she finished with the dressings and bit back another laugh. The Vulcan deposited a uniform on the stretcher next to the commander with more force than necessary, which resulted in a muffled tuff sound. Almost under the lintel, Alieth stopped, forcing the commander to halt with her. Alieth: Instructions on how to reach Conference Room One would be appreciated. This time, Deena couldn’t hide how humorous she found the image, and let out a laugh. Quen: Hang on, we’re coming with you! Teller: The more the merrier, Doctor Quen. :: He winced as he pulled on his new uniform, draping the tunic over his upper body with his working arm. :: Besides, no one can accuse me of being irresponsible with my health when I've got both of you with me. Speaking of...just how far is this walk? And are the suns still beating down out there? Quen: It’s a bit of a hike - across the grounds in the main building. Are you sure? Teller: No, but if I can't do this then I'm no good to anybody right now and I'll crawl back into that biobed voluntarily. :: He took a deep breath and steeled himself. :: I have to do this, Doctor. Ben caught Alieth’s eye. The Vulcan glanced him back, her features unfazed and stately, yet the young Vulcan radiated a sense of exasperation in all directions. With a pleadinging shrug, Ben spoke: Garcia: Better we get him there under supervision, eh Doc? :: Ben stood and patted down his fresh dressings. :: I’ll help. Deena grabbed a hypospray pre-loaded with a variety of analgesics and pocketed it. Quen: Just in case. If anyone needs it, say something. Teller: Thank you Doctor, but for the moment I'll pass. Garcia: :: Ben’s brows creased. He looked over his shoulder at the silver tray of gummy bears.. :: Sure, I’ll bring the rest of these. Alieth tilted her head slightly to draw the pilot's attention to the dangers of too many sweets in the diet, but she didn't have time to compose the sentence, as she was too busy trying to prevent that the commander's endeavours might aggravate his state. Ben turned a half step and pocketed the remaining gummy bears as he filed into line with the patient convoy. With gritted teeth, Teller slipped his frozen arm through his uniform sleeve. It was an awkward effort and the various bandages and devices connected to him didn't sit comfortably, but for now it would have to do. His comm badge, pitted and scuffed, sat on the table opposite his biobed. Comm badges were tough to break, and the casing was meant to survive extreme conditions without suffering cosmetic damage, but his looked like it had been through hell. At the moment, that seemed entirely appropriate to Teller, and he slapped it back onto his uniform with a grim scowl. Teller: Alright, become I come to my senses - lets go. Don't want to keep the Admiral waiting. End. =============================== Lieutenant Commander Geoffrey Teller Executive Officer Duronis II Embassy & Support Flotilla Rear Admiral Turner, T. Commanding V239509GT0 & Lieutenant Ben Garcia Second Officer/HCO Embassy Duronis II - USS Thor NCC-82607 Author ID number: G239102MR0 & Lieutenant Quen Deena Medical Officer Duronis II Embassy/USS Thor E239602QD0 & Ensign Alieth Medical Officer Embassy Duronis II - USS Thor NCC-82607 Author ID number: E239702A10
  17. @Melody Delri'ise Thanks for the shout out - really kind of you, and very much appreciated! 🤗
  18. This is brill! We recently had Hendon's mum at the Embassy - that was a blast!
  19. Congrats to you both and well done Looking forward to seeing you around.
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