Ayiana Sevo

Quite possibly the worst thing to say in front of a Whovian.

Ayiana has a Trill fenza bird. They are similar in appearance to Earth phoenixes. I haven't simmed from it's point of view, however.

(( Sickbay, USS Gorkon )) :: Precious time had already been lost, the captain left bleeding out for far too long. Her injuries were extensive, penetrating muscle, flesh, and at probably least one vital organ or artery, since the hypercoagulin did nothing to staunch the flow of blood. He didn’t have time to focus on any other patients right now, only the one. Rushing Quinn into surgery was his priority. :: :: He handed over the captain to the waiting operating team, while he scrubbed and changed into something more appropriate for the task ahead. He mulled it over in his mind: Reynolds' anatomy was similar enough to a human that it posed no problem in that regard, though her hybrid physiology could be… unpredictable. The fact that she was a touch-telepath complicated matters just a bit more. He quickly sterilized his hands and gloved up before proceeding. Since their first meeting aboard the Garuda, he hadn’t had occasion to do any major lifesaving on the captain. :: :: When he entered the operating room, she was already prepped and under anesthetic, the monitors in the room beeping and glowing with her vital data, none of which seeded any hope in his heart. The blood they were transfusing was being lost almost as quickly as they could pump it into her, and the surgical biobed's scanners indicated a hemopneumothorax, as well as multiple deep lacerations to the liver and intestines. Not one was an easy injury to treat, further complicated by the fact he had to do them one at a time. CD took a breath as he glanced at the readouts, forcing himself into a state of calm. :: :: Time was a luxury he didn’t have, so he began first with the injuries to her lung, draining the blood from her chest so that her lung could re-inflate. He had to remember to breathe as he steadied his hands. He’d performed heart surgery on Bajorans before, but there was a first time for everything. This was his first stabbing with multiple wounds. As he performed his work, a small wave of doubt began to form in his mind. :: oO What if she dies? Oo oO Not on my watch, she won’t… Oo :: He pushed back the negative thoughts and blanked his mind of such fatalistic talk, focusing only on the task. It was delicate work regenerating the lung tissue and surrounding areas, but in the end he got it repaired. The anabolic protoplaser and autosuture were getting a workout today, as he moved on to the liver. Each second that elapsed started to gradually eat away at his calm, even though she was stable and-- :: Rakujia: She's crashing! :: The surgical nurse's announcement came as the the monitors began to shrill their alarms, the busy traces of her life signs becoming flat lines. More doubt crept into CD’s mind as the alarms went off, and Stripey was quick to shut all the negative talk down. A good thing, too because Chythar could not afford any mistakes. He needed this to work, for the sake of the crew as well as his own sanity. Professional pride be damned, his reputation as a miracle worker was on the line. He may not have been any Dr. Bones McCoy by any means, but he’d worked miracles in the past. This one had to work, or the consequences -- and conversations -- would be his worst nightmare. :: Skyfire: 10 milligrams of cordrazine. Charge the cardiostimulator to 3 millijoules. :: While the anesthetist, Doctor Seung, loaded a hypospray and delivered the cardiac drug directly into Reynolds' veins, Rakujia passed him the cardiostimulator and he pressed it to her chest, delivering the shock that would hopefully restart her heart. :: Rakujia: No response. oO Damn it, Quinn...don’t die on us. Please. Oo Skyfire: Increase to 5 millijoules. Rakujia: No response. oO I was ignorant of so much last time. Don’t let this add to my casualty streak. Oo Skyfire: Again. Rakujia: No-- ::He paused, then his voice was full of relief.:: No, wait! We've got her! :: Once again, the monitors began to pulse with the regular, if weak, rhythms of the captain's life. He gave a sigh of relief, like a great weight being lifted from his shoulders. Holding someone’s life in your hands was one thing. Saving the life in your hands was the greatest feeling in the world. He was still not looking forward to the report, or the log entry. Both of those would be tiring, and he would probably need some coffee before getting started. For all those he couldn’t save in the other universe, this moment was worth every memory he carried. :: :: CD had lost track of the amount of time he had spent already, and wasn’t looking forward to writing up that number, nor the report along with it. Alucard would probably have words with him. Heck, he fully expected Walter to call him up while busy and demand an update, but that was not on his mind at the moment. The life of his patient took precedence. :: :: Hours -- and three more cardiac arrests, each more prolonged than the last -- later, the liver was repaired. A nurse dabbed away beads of sweat from his eyes and continued his work, moving on to the gastrointestinal repairs. The autosuture was now warm to the touch, like a warmed power pack from a phaser in his hand. Fortunately, it was a dulled sensation as he was using his entire focus to do his job. Warm battery packs had nothing on him right now. Out of all the bombs he’d survived, all the research he’d done, there was nothing that could have prepared him for this, except experience he didn’t have. He continued his task and deliberately did not look at the clock. The last thing he wanted to do was screw up because he was wanting to do it fast rather than right, which would go against the oath he took. :: :: Once the last of the surgical procedures was complete and the surgical sites were closed, he ran another series of scans. There was nothing more that could be done in surgery for the time being, and he left Rakujia and Seung to take her to one of the private recovery rooms. He would remain close by as long as he could get away with, primarily to keep an eye and also out of a sense of duty. Despite his best efforts, he didn’t play the odds. A quote from one of his favorite 21st century novels came to mind. :: oO Never tell me the odds! Oo :: While that quote held true, he had a list of phrases prepared. None of which would please Walter, he was sure. None of which pleased CD either. His surgical scrubs coated in blood from his efforts over the last several hours in the surgery, he excused himself to his office for a change of uniform. At the very least, if called upon, he’d look professional, if not completely decked out for diplomacy. Once his teal collar was back on, he put on one of his uniform jackets and zipped it up before dealing with the paperwork. The tone of the conference had gone from diplomatic to grim in the span of… had it been 12 hours? No, it was more than that, CD was sure. He grimaced as he checked the timestamp from paging Nurse Rakujia to the time they clocked out of surgery. Time for the boring part: the report. :: === Lieutenant Commander Chythar Skyfire Chief Medical Officer USS Gorkon, NCC-82293 O239002CS0

http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Duck_blind

They better be the normal ridged Klingons and not the horrible JJVERSE ones.

FOR THE HORDE!!!

!! WYRMREST ACCORD?! That's my server! I'm not in a guild but you are free to friend me. Ayiana#1688

I...don't really have one. Star Trek (and Star Wars) have just always been there. I grew up watching TNG, but I don't remember if it was reruns or premiers. I do remember the night of the last episode (All Good Things...). I almost cried when it was over.

Congratulations and welcome to the fleet!

I'm still putting my latinum on post-ENT, pre-TOS. Earth-Romulan War anyone?

It has design elements reminiscent of Enterprise NX-01, but with a registry number that high, it is probably in the early days of the Federation. My guess would be somewhere around 2200. I agree. Its...awful.

((Day 98 - Bridge, USS Gorkon)) Marshall: ...looks like they're moving off, Captain. ::The relief was hard to describe, and she watched as it washed over the bridge like the tide. People slumped in the chairs, others smiled, others still bowed their heads, and there was even a fist-pump from one young ensign. All eyes were on the viewscreen throughout, watching as the Cardassian fleet wheeled about in a slow, graceful arc and made their way toward the edge of the ship graveyard.:: Reynolds: Keep an eye on them, just in case this is an attempt to lure us out. :It's what she would do. But perhaps they had been convinced enough by their two day search that there was nothing to find. She hoped that was the case, as it had been wretched living on a ship playing possum for this this long.:: Marshall: Understood. Maintaining... ((Day 131 - Abandoned Research Outpost, 83 Leonis II)) ::...as Blair's away team dragged the last of their haul to the upper deck of the research outpost, Quinn found her attention drawn to the vista outside. With all the doom and gloom of this universe, she found the place oddly calming -- at least here, the people were still alive and prosperous, not doomed by the Prime Directive and Cardassian grandstanding. ::Her gaze was drawn away as Larant approached her, and the ensign pressed the isolinear chip into her palm. She'd given the fiery young woman an odd request, to retrieve as much research data as possible from the wiped computers, and this was the fruit of her labours.:: Reynolds: ::Quietly,:: Thank you. ::She looked down at the chip, then stuffed it into her pocket. Those were answers for another time and another place. Now, she had to attend to the business of survival.:: Reynolds: Let's get this beamed up and secured, then we... ((Day 157 - Bridge, USS Gorkon)) ::...blood trickled into her eye as she hauled herself back into her seat, and she wiped it aside, thoughtlessly smearing it across her cheek and temple, where it mingled with the grime and ash clinging to her skin.:: Eerie: Shields at 34 percent. Phasers offline. Torpedos offline. Rosek: Inertial dampeners are failing and the warp engine is offline. ::No surprises there, given how they were being tossed about like ragdolls with every hit and manoeuvre. She squinted through smoke and sparks at the flickering viewscreen, trying to hold in the cough that the acrid air was producing.:: Nkai: Casualty reports coming in from decks 9, 10, 14 through 17, and… ::a frightened pause,:: we're losing antimatter containment. ::For a moment, Quinn swore her heart actually stopped. Was this it? Was this how it was all going to end? In that moment, all she could think of was Dylan and Amelia, and that hurt so much she could barely breathe.:: Sevo: Captain, I have an idea... ((Day 185 - Port Nacelle, USS Gorkon)) ::...Stoyer looked at her, and she could see the concern etching deep lines into his face. He was looking positively haggard these days, even more so after the recent accident in the fusion reactor that had claimed the lives of several of his engineers.:: Reynolds: Do the best you can, Lieutenant. Stoyer: Aye, Skipper. ::They both turned to look at the problem, and it was not a pretty sight. The row of verterium cortenide coils were scorched and bubbled, some entirely stripped of their inner layer. It made maintaining a stable warp field even more difficult than it already was, and added yet another item to their ever-growing list of desperately needed goods. ::While Stoyer stared at the massive job in front of him, Quinn stole another look at her chief engineer. He was dead on his feet, and that was a dangerous thing.:: Reynolds: And get some sleep. ::He opened his mouth to protest, and she held up a hand to silence him. She was reluctant to do what she was about to do, but the Triumphant crew had been aboard for months now. Perhaps it was time to trust some of them with some real responsibility.:: Reynolds: That's an order. Lieutenant Reynolds can hold the fort while... ((Day 199 - Cargo Bay, USS Gorkon)) ::...it wasn't a big crowd, but she wasn't surprised. This was all-too common an event these days, and it was simply too depressing for everyone to attend all of them. She was one of the few who did, because it was her responsibility. *They* were her responsibility. ::Taking a breath, she swallowed to try and wet her dry throat. No tears, though. No tears for people she barely knew. It made her felt guilty, for not knowing them well enough to feel the loss as only friends and family could.:: Reynolds: We are gathered here today to remember and celebrate the lives of Crewman Teesoan th'Ranthi, Crewman Skalvis, Crewman Devu Levon, Crewman Arash Resa, Crewman Miya Ataaxon, Crewman Tyrene, Crewman Sanjay Patel, Crewman Ayumi Ishikawa, Chief Petty Officer Shelen zh'Raasia, Chief Petty Officer Maxwell Alder, Ensign Pak, Ensign T'Mei, Ensign Marruh, Lieutenant Vrida Prex, Lieutenant Ozioma Babatunde... ((Day 207 - Marketplace, New Donetsk)) ::...her ribs sang with pain, but better the rough collision with the floor than the disruptor bolt that had bored a smoking hole in the wall. Hunkered down behind a low wall, chips of stone flying over their heads as the disruptors slammed into their chosen cover, the Russian woman responsible for their current predicament grabbed onto Brunsig's arm with a desperate strength.:: Nazarova: I'm sorry! Erik came here, he took my wife -- he took Lise! He said if I didn't get you here, he would… he would... ::Quinn dropped her head, looking at the floor, unable to find the words. When Brunsig echoed her movements, the raven-haired merchant paled, tears welling up in her eyes.:: Nazarova: N-no. No! He said-- He promised! Brunsig (Alt): ::He shook his head.:: She's gone, Irina. Erik left her for us to find. ::She half-expected some brutal comment about how the woman should have known better than to trust a traitor to keep his word, but if Brunsig was thinking it, he mercifully kept it to himself. Irina released his arm, collapsing to the ground as though her strings had been cut, and began unashamedly weeping. ::The young security ensign that had escorted the away team gestured for Quinn's attention, indicating the street to their right. There was movement, and it looked distinctly like they were being flanked.:: Tyan: Captain, I suggest we... ((Day 219 - Ready Room, USS Gorkon)) ::...it was pathetic. *She* was pathetic. Pathetic and weak and useless. But it had just been one more piece of not even terribly bad news, and something had snapped inside her. So here she was, huddled and hidden behind her desk, completely unable to stop the tears from flowing as every regret and loss of the past few months rushed in to haunt her. Tam: Quinn... ::The nurse's voice was low and soft as he crouched down beside her, and she turned her face away from him. It was bad enough that she had lost control, worse still that someone was present to witness it. ::He put his hand on her shoulder, a gentle and soothing weight that somehow made it all worse. She shook her head and half-heartedly batted him away.:: Reynolds: Just… ::She heaved a sob, unable to string even a couple of words together.:: ...go. ::He didn't. He hand slid around her shoulders and he pulled her close against him, holding her tight. She could hear his heart beating a steady rhythm and she buried her head in his chest, curling up in his arms…:: ((Day 247 - Ready Room, USS Gorkon)) Reynolds: ...how long do they usually take to reply? Brunsig (Alt): Not this long. ::She cast a weary look toward the three men sat around her desk, asking for their opinions without saying a word. Brunsig had barely changed at all over the past eight months, and why would he? This was the same life he'd been living for years.:: Vess: Ah think this is a bust. We canna sit here twiddling our thumbs forever. ::Vess. Oh, Vess. He didn't know it, but he was the cause of so many of her sleepless nights. His family. His children. What kind of life was this for them? Of course, she had made sure that the few children on the ship were not going hungry the way many of the adults were, and there was an ongoing effort by many of the crew that she too participated in, donating some of their replicator rations to make sure the children had toys and clothes. ::Still, it was no way to grow up.:: Blair: I agree, Captain. We have to stay on the move. ::Dear, stalwart Blair. Quinn wondered if he had regretted his decision to accept the post of first officer on the Gorkon, given how things had turned out. But she was glad that he was here, even if he was not. ::She sighed, sinking back in her chair. They were right, of course, but their options had grown increasingly thing, as Erik Jansen had continued to hunt them, growing ever more ruthless in his efforts. The Gorkon was becoming a cursed name in the Corridor, bringing only death and destruction in their wake. Reynolds: Alright, we'll-- ::There was a burst of painfully loud static, the sound that had long since replaced the polite and quiet chirp of an incoming communication. Nobody batted an eyelid -- they were all too used to it by now.:: Nkai: =/\= Captain, we have an incoming message from… ::he paused,:: uh, the IRW Rh'vaurek. =/\= ::Brunsig abruptly straightened in his chair, and the frown that carved its way onto his forehead was one of alarm and concern.:: Brunsig (Alt): That's a warbird. Reynolds: That's unusual? Brunsig (Alt): Yes. Either our luck is turning, or we're about to get blown out of the sky. ::Nothing was an unremarkable decision anymore. Everything was life or death. And she couldn't remember when she had stopped struggling against that miserable fact. ::It wasn't as though they had any choice in the matter, after all. And now, it was time to...:: -- Captain Quinn Reynolds Commanding Officer USS Gorkon T238401QR0

Warp Drive. Because I want to move to Mars.

Congratulations to everyone!

Congratulations to everyone, but especially to Captain Reynolds! Cupcake has been incredibly patient and helpful with me as I start my journey to command. She has fielded my questions without hesitation and given me advice. I had an idea for a simple B-plot for a character of mine, but I wanted to get permission to do it first. She not only accepted it, but thought it was a great idea for the whole crew. That B-plot is now currently being simmed! Of course, I also can't forget Nugra, my first CO! Though the reptilian part of you is now gone, I'm glad to see you are still up and kicking! Congrats to Toni, who oversaw my training two years ago. I also was fortunate to do a Joint Mission with the Embassy on the Victory, simming with her again!

Congratulations to everyone, especially Eerie, Vess, and Skyfire!

Congratulations to everyone! Except for Renos, whom I knew by his Trill Janel Tarna, I don't know anyone here personally, but I'm sure each and every one of them deserve these awards!

Congratulations to you all! I have only ever simmed with Vee from this list, but I can safely assume everyone truly deserves their awards! Vee greatly impressed me, along with the rest of the Gorkon apparently, by his advanced and eloquent simming right from the start. His medical posts showed he clearly had knowledge, or at least did ample research, into the field of medicine. Besides his technical knowledge, his stories in general are excellent. There have been a few times I have found myself practically at the edge of my seat reading a sim or JP.

Well, if I had known your character was a former fashion designer, I would have asked to use Zindara instead of making up a name!

Absolutely! As a scientist, Ayiana finds herself talking technical mumbo-jumbo on a regular basis. Explaining how something works is something I find fun and often put into sims. In real-life, I'm always fascinated by how a sci-fi technology or science might work.

Yes. And the writer (Michael Piller?) had initially intended not to return for season 4. He was like "I've invented an inescapable situation, but its not my problem!" It turns out, he came back for the next season and had to come up with a conclusion to his impossible cliffhanger.

If she weren't trapped in another universe, this is something Ayiana would wear to the gala. She doesn't care too terribly much about fashion, except for high heels; she hates them. This nice, simple dress is from Talarin Van, a prominent Trill fashion designer. It shows off her legs, which for some reason, aliens love seeing.

As a boy playing with legos, action figures and being OUTSIDE, can't say i do.

http://www.startrek.com/article/kirk-spock-uhura-barbie-dolls-coming-soon