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Salkath

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Posts posted by Salkath

  1. "In The Pale Moonlight" will always be a favorite for me ("It's a faaake!") but I have to throw a shout out to Yar's death in "Skin of Evil". I was still too young to understand character death as a means of contract dispute resolution, so this scene resonated with me for a long time due to its senselessness and discord. 

    • Like 2
  2. 1 hour ago, StarBase 118 Staff said:

    I also keep a lot of emails marked unread, I read it, if I haven’t the time to tend to the task, I mark it unread and move to the tasks and emails I can clear out. I don’t like my inbox having unread emails, so it keeps it fresh for me.

    This is actually a really cool tip, one I might need to adopt in order to motivate me as well! Thanks for the great info and a great interview, Captain! :)

    • Like 1
  3. I've been doing this style of playing for going on 20 years, and nearly all of my characters were escapist - in that they accentuated traits that I did not have in some sense of wish fulfillment or a step away from my actual reality. Traenor was designed to be a challenge in that he is the most faithful recreation of myself in a character. How do I take plain ol' little ol' me and make him an engaging character? I've taken some artistic licenses, of course, but it's been a true joy to take some of my real life traits and personal situations and transpose them into a fictional setting.

    That being said, I do yearn for my favorite of all ST species often enough... the Bajorans. Traenor is a hoot, but he ain't no Bajoran ;)

    • Like 1
  4. Polling closes at 11:59pm Eastern on Saturday, July 30.

    This is a run-off poll, where our general membership (that's you!) chooses which sim, from Set 2 of 2016 (Rounds 7-13), should proceed to the final round of the contest for a chance to be selected as the Top Sim of 2016! These sims below were chosen by a panel of judges (one from each ship) from the sims submitted in Rounds 7-13 of the contest.

    TO START, please read these sims:

     

      NEXT, using the poll above, vote for the sim you like the most. It should be the sim that's the best written, with strong characterization, and evocative or descriptive scene-setting.

      DON'T vote for a sim just because you serve on the same crew as the person who wrote it. Any crew that "stuffs the ballot" (by having everyone on the crew vote for the same sim to ensure that it wins this poll) will be eliminated from the contest and shamed by the rest of the community as terrible, terrible cheaters. That would be awful.

      Good luck to the nominees!

    • HOW VOTING WORKS
      There are two types of voting in this contest: member voting and judges voting.

      • After each round of submissions, all the sims from that round are voted-on by a panel of judges. The winning sim from each round of judges voting then proceeds to a run-off round.
      • Run-off rounds are open to all members for voting. The winning sim from each run-off round proceeds to the final round.
      • The final round is open to all members for voting. For a sim to win the final round, at least 20% of the voters for that sim must be from a ship other than the ship it originated from.

      HOW THE JUDGES PANEL WORKS
      The judges panel is comprised of one member from each ship.

      • Judges are free to resign from the panel at any time or be switched-out but are expected to judge for a full "Set" (see the Contest Calendar).
      • At the end of each Set, Captains will be encouraged to review their ship's judge.
      • A judge's "term" lasts for three sets, after which they must be switched with a new judge from the crew. After a judge's term is over, and a new judge has been selected and served for at least one term, the previous judge is again eligible to begin a new term.
      • Judges can be of any rank, as long as they are able to demonstrate a basic grasp of good simming skills.
      • Each ship's Captain appoints the judge from their ship, but they are free to use whatever method they deem appropriate to select that judge. They can select themselves as the judge.

      Judges use a ranked voting method called Instant Runoff Voting (IRV). For more information about IRV, see the Wikipedia page

      When voting, judges are not permitted to vote in the top slot the sim from their crew. This ensures that judges are not favoring their own crew's sims. They can still choose their ship's sim in the second slot or lower.

    • Welcome to Top Sims Contest of 2016! All announcements for the entire 2016 contest will be posted in this thread.

      The Top Sims contest allows members of our fleet to be recognized by their peers for superior writing ability. Unlike the Writing Challenges, this contest allows only sims that have been used in a current plot to be considered.

       

      SUBMISSION GUIDELINES

      • You can submit ANY sim -- from your ship, or another ship. You can submit your own sims if you wish. All sims are welcome, including staff (Captain, First Officer, etc.) sims.
      • The sim must be written with good spelling, good grammar, and be in the correct format. Poorly structured sims will be disqualified.
      • When a sim is submitted, it must have been created within the current submission period, or the previously lapsed submission period. Put another way: do not sims which are any older than a month.
      • Submitted sims may not have any open dialogue tags. (i.e.: [respond here]) All dialogue in the sim must be filled in. (Just find the responding author's sim and fill in the blanks.)
      • Sims must not include any "canon" characters. (i.e.- no characters who have appeared onscreen.)

      Please find a balance between nominating too many, or too few sims. Don't submit every good sim -- instead, post every great sim!

      Encourage your fellow crew-mates to submit at least a few sims a year. If you want your crew-mates to win more, you have to nominate the best sims, and encourage others to write higher quality sims!

       

      HOW TO SUBMIT A SIM

      First: Click the "Start New Topic" button. The format of the topic title should be as follows: "Character - Sim Title"

      • For example: "LtJG Tristan Wolf - Everywhere you go, there you are"
      • Note: Please do not clutter the topic title with an endless list of NPC or PNPC names or "JP" designations. Instead, simply include the primary character's rank and name. If it's a joint post, just include both rank and names -- no need to include the "JP" in there.

      Second: Choose from the "Topic Prefix" box the correct round number. (To check what round we're currently in, see the contest calendar below.)

      Third: Copy into the message box the complete sim. You don't need to worry about column width.

      Check to make sure that the sim is readable. You can click the "Edit" button to fix any issues, but don't delay -- you'll be barred from editing the post after 60 minutes.

       

      COMMENTING ON A SIM

      Everyone is welcome to comment on submitted sims. If you're going to provide constructive criticism, you are required to employ the "hamburger" criticism method: first, mention something you like; second, something you didn't like; third, something else you liked. If you just want to provide praise, no hamburger method required!

      Commenters who are rude, unfair, or overzealous in their commenting will be barred from future comments in the contest forum, and will have their actions brought to the attention of their CO.

       

      CONTEST CALENDAR

      Set 1, 2016 Contest

      • Round 1, 2016 submissions: Monday, November 2 to Sunday, November 15
      • Round 2, 2016 submissions: Monday, November 16 to Sunday, November 29
      • Round 3, 2016 submissions: Monday, November 30 to Sunday, December 13
      • Round 4, 2016 submissions: Monday, December 14 to Sunday, December 27
      • Round 5, 2016 submissions: Monday, December 28 to Sunday, January 10
      • Round 6, 2016 submissions: Monday, January 11 to Sunday, January 24
      • Run-off Round 1: Monday, February 15 to Sunday, April 3

      Set 2, 2016 Contest

      • Round 7, 2016 submissions: Monday, January 25 to Sunday, February 7
      • Round 8, 2016 submissions: Monday, February 8 to Sunday, February 21
      • Round 9, 2016 submissions: Monday, February 22 to Sunday, March 6
      • Round 10, 2016 submissions: Monday, March 7 to Sunday, March 20
      • Round 11, 2016 submissions: Monday, March 21 to Sunday, April 3
      • Round 12, 2016 submissions: Monday, April 4 to Sunday, April 17
      • Round 13, 2016 submissions: Monday, April 18 to Sunday, May 1
      • Run-off Round 2: Monday, May 2 to Sunday, July 31

      Set 3, 2016 Contest

      • Round 14, 2016 submissions: Monday, May 2 to Sunday, May 15
      • Round 15, 2016 submissions: Monday, May 16 to Sunday, May 29
      • Round 16, 2016 submissions: Monday, May 30 to Sunday, June 12
      • Round 17, 2016 submissions: Monday, June 13 to Sunday, June 26
      • Round 18, 2016 submissions: Monday, June 27 to Sunday, July 10
      • Round 19, 2016 submissions: Monday, July 11 to Sunday, July 24
      • Round 20, 2016 submissions: Monday, July 25 to Sunday, August 7
      • Run-off Round 3: Monday, August 8 to Sunday, October 23

      Set 4, 2016 Contest

      • Round 21, 2016 submission: Monday, August 8 to Sunday, August 21
      • Round 22, 2016 submission: Monday, August 22 to Sunday, September 4
      • Round 23, 2016 submission: Monday, September 5 to Sunday, September 18
      • Round 24, 2016 submission: Monday, September 19 to Sunday, October 2
      • Round 25, 2016 submission: Monday, October 3 to Sunday, October 16
      • Round 26, 2016 submission: Monday, October 17 to Sunday, October 30
      • Run-off Round 4: Monday, October 31 to Sunday, November 27

      FINAL RUN-OFF OF 2015: Monday, November 28 to Sunday, December 25 - this run-off selects the Top Sim of 2016.

      Set 1, 2017 Contest

      • Round 1, 2017 submissions: Monday, October 31 to Sunday, November 13
      • Round 2, 2017 submissions: Monday, November 14 to Sunday, November 27
      • Round 3, 2017 submissions: Monday, November 28 to Sunday, December 11
      • Round 4, 2017 submissions: Monday, December 12 to Sunday, December 25
      • Round 5, 2017 submissions: Monday, December 26 to Sunday, January 8
      • Round 6, 2017 submissions: Monday, January 9 to Sunday, January 22
      • Run-off Round 1: Monday, January 23 to Sunday, February 19

      Many thanks to FltCapt. Renos for putting together the calendar! 

    • The death of newborn Naomi Wildman in VOY - Deadlock. It was a touching scene for me, simply because at the time there was no time for the characters to grieve with all that was happening. Of course, alternate/duplicate Naomi Wildman was returned to the prime crew with Harry Kim, but it didn't lessen the impact of the scene for me.

      • Like 2
    • ((USS Darwin, Deck 10, Group Counseling Room))

       

      ::In anticipation of the captain’s appointment, Didrik had cleared the furniture from the group counseling room, leaving just a few mats and pillows on the floor.  He had dimmed the lights as well, making the room seem even more empty.  By the time the captain arrived, Didrik’s eyes had already adjusted to the dark.::

       

      Stennes:  Come on in, and have a seat.

      ::Renos never knew what to expect when ne had an appointment with Didrik. Did everyone get the experimental treatment or did he employ these more creative techniques because he felt ne might be somewhat resistant to traditional counseling? The atmosphere here was comfortable and relaxed and the furniture was suspicious by its absence. The counselor seemed to have gone to some trouble in preparation for this. Ne didn’t wait for an invitation and took a seat on one of the cushions, finding them reasonably comfortable to sit on.::

       

      Renos: Good day, I see you’ve been busy.

       

      ::Didrik awkwardly sat down, his larger frame not well built for sitting cross-legged on the floor.  Didrik felt a bit clumsy when next to Renos, who appeared to descend down onto a cushion without any apparent struggle to attempt to balance.  He pushed that thought out of his mind, in a method not unlike he was about to teach the captain.::

       

      Stennes:  Last time we spoke, we touched on the subject of fear.  I want to explore that more deeply today.  But first, let’s just focus on breathing.  Getting our bodies and minds clear and present.

       

      ::Fear. Ne wasn’t altogether fond of digging more deeply into that, especially since the latest mission had brought an uncharacteristic amount of anxiety into nir life in the aftermath. It wasn’t even as if ne regretted nir decisions but ne wondered if ne was wrong. Everyone else seemed to feel the decision ne had come to was wrong. Was nir moral compass really set so differently to everyone else’s? With some effort ne concentrated on nir breathing. Seeing that Didrik had closed his eyes ne decided to do likewise even if it felt horribly uncomfortable. A deviant J’naii could scarcely afford to close nir eyes in the presence of others. You could never tell who was going to stab you in the back the minute you weren’t looking.::

       

      ::Didrik wasn’t certain how effective a four-thousand-year-old Earth meditation technique would work on a twenty-fourth century J’naii, but decided to take his own advice and focused on his own breathing.  Hoping to lead by example, he closed his eyes, placed his palms on his knees, breathed slowly in and out, and resisted the temptation to re-open one eye to check if Renos was doing the same.::

       

      Stennes:  Imagine your every action, your every thought, is like tossing a pebble in a lake.  Casting ripples outward beyond where you can see.  When your mind is troubled, it’s like many pebbles being thrown in all at once, creating a rough and rippled lake.

       

      ::This was not an easy exercise for nem exactly because nir mind was so busy. It was hard to get it to come away from fretting and analysing details to concentrate on another task. Slowly an image began to form in nir mind. A large lake surrounded by woodland with tall evergreen trees that hugged the mountains as far as they eye could see. Choppy, dark blue waters and a sandy beach. Ne was barefoot on the cool sand, with brown trouser legs rolled up. A pile of large pebbles by nir side. Ne kept throwing the stones in but the pile never got any smaller.::

      Stennes:  But each ripple is always smaller than the one that came before it.  Eventually the ripples die down, and the lake surface is still again.  Focus on that image of stillness, and create in your own mind a lake undisturbed by the tossing of pebbles.

       

      ::Splosh.::

       

      ::Plop.::
       

      ::Plink…::

      ::Very slowly, the ripples did get smaller. Even the cool wind that whipped nir hair back seemed to still a little. A sense of calm seemed to descend over nem. Ne did not wish to speak and spoil the moment and focused on nir breathing and the imagery before nem. The lake of nir mind was a place Renos had often visited during the holidays as a child. It had been a favourite family vacation spot and ne did miss it. J’naii had a lot of beautiful countryside and as a child ne had dreamed of being a countryside ranger, of studying and caring for the woodlands, conserving the threatened species of flora and fauna. Ne had ended up in a very different line of work indeed.::

       

      ::A few minutes into the exercise, Didrik realized he’d forgotten to cue the music he’d chosen for the session.  He debated whether he should interrupt the flow of things by instructing the computer to play it, but Renos was seeming to get into the meditation exercise in all the right ways, and Didrik didn’t want the sudden jar of a music track to derail nem.::

       

      Stennes:  Look across the lake, and notice that no matter how wide or deep the water may be, the lake can contain it.

       

      ::Didrik hoped the transition he was about to make was strong enough to hold Renos to the exercise, and not snap him out of it.  There was still so much he didn’t know about nem, and maybe this approach would be too radical or too in-one’s-face.  Hopefully, through some careful direction, he would find out, and be able to help.::

       

      Stennes:  Now let’s look inside you.  Remember to breathe, and as you do, I want you to see the fear that lives there.  Find the place within you where that fear lives, and let it come forth.

       

      ::Didrik could feel his own body’s response to the prompt, and he found it difficult to merely facilitate the exercise without being a participant.  Didrik was no stranger to confronting his own fears, and he hoped that his experience would give him the patience and the compassion to help Renos find his.::

       

      Stennes:  As it rises from within you, continue to breathe.  Watch it gather.  Can you see it?

       

      Renos: Yes but it’s not clear.

      ::Renos stared into the now still waters of the lake. Nir reflection replaced by an inky blackness that had no particular form. Ne felt fear grip nem even without fully understanding what it was ne was frightened of. Nir palms grew sweaty and nir heart rate increased even though ne knew logically that there was no threat.::

       

      ::As quietly and unobtrusively as possible, Didrik shifted his weight on the cushion, alternating the way his legs were crossed in an attempt to prevent his foot from falling asleep.  He’d remembered from his own experiences as a patient attempting these exercises that his frame wasn’t exactly purpose built for long periods of contorted sitting.  As the thoughts rolled around in his head, he silently chastised himself for them and pushed them out of his mind, allowing his own mental lake to grow still and quiet again.::

       

      Stennes: As it gathers, what color is it?

       

      Renos: Mainly black, but there is some grey there, a little red too.

       

      Stennes:  Now, just take a moment and look at the fear.  Notice the shade it takes, the shape it forms as it exists before you.  Whether it moves, or changes size.  Perhaps it takes the form of something you might recognize.

       

      ::Both Didrik the counselor and Didrik the human being were curious about how Renos perceived nir fear manifested in front of nem, but he didn’t wish to prod too deeply or force nem to explain.  As he remembered, this was an intensely personal exercise, and sometimes things were discovered that were less than desirable to admit to oneself, let alone others.::

       

      Stennes:  Now see the fear.  Focus your mind and stare into it.  Keep looking into it, breathe, and focus until you can begin to see inside it.  All the tiny components that make up this fear, you can see them all.  You can even name them.


      ::The more the fear took shape the less ne wanted to see it. Dark faceless figures formed in the waters. They were familiar to nem. Ne had defeated them once, many times actually but no matter how many times ne defeated them, there were always more ready and willing to take the place of the vanquished. Ne did not recognise the figures themselves so much as what they represented. Senorn formed in the pool and members of nir own family such as nir family as well but as with the black clad hunters, ne did not fear the individual, ne feared what they could do.::

      Renos: Betrayal. Loss of individuality.

      ::Emboldened, the counselor pushed forth to the next step of the exercise.::

       

      Stennes:  Good.  The act of naming gives relief.  By giving something a name, you begin to control how its identity affects you.  Fear is just a texture of our existence.  And just as you stared through the mass of fear and saw inside of it, you can stare through that texture of fear, and see beyond it.

       

      ::Ne was not convinced of any of this, nevertheless ne tried. As ne tried to stare through it ne merely found the images morphing into something else. More red. This time an image of nemself formed in the pool. ::

       

      Renos:  I’m not sure about this.

       

      ::Didrik felt his own heart rate rising and sweat appear as he continued, and he hoped that this exercise was having a positive effect on the captain.  He knew his own approach toward therapy was unconventional, but having been an unconventional case himself, he knew there was value in them.::

       

      Stennes:  You’re outside of it now, peering in at this mere texture of existence.  

       

      ::Was Didrik going too fast? It wasn’t working. Ne was bound in a bright red straight jacket in a small cell that contained only a mattress.  Nir head had been shaved down to a number 2 and tipped back, looking towards the ceiling above with an expression of anger and anguish. It was one of many ways they stripped away your individuality in a deviant treatment unit. Ne screamed in defiance, realising in a flash as nir eyes flew open, that the sound was probably making Didrik’s ears ring. Ne at once coloured and gave him an apologetic look.::

      Renos: I apologise for the outburst. It is most shameful of me.  I guess I am not as adept as humans as leaving these things behind…
       

      ::Didrik tried not to show his surprise at what had just occurred, but he was almost certainly not doing a very good job.  The relatively tranquil exercise had erupted into Renos’ outburst seemingly out of nowhere, and Didrik feared that he was paying more attention to his own performance rather than whether the captain was benefitting from it at all.

       

      Stennes:  There is no need to feel ashamed.

       

      ::Didrik didn’t know what secrets Renos was keeping, or what had nem so troubled, but he feared he had chosen the wrong exercise.  It was clear to him that the captain was dealing with a deep, existential trauma, that had probably become so deeply a part of nem that simply trying to look through it was not the most helpful of suggestions.::

       

      Stennes:  I think to even consider looking your fear in the eye is an act of remarkable courage.

       

      Renos:  In my head I know this to be true but right now I do not feel it in my heart.

       

      Stennes:  Fear of betrayal is not uncommon.  Especially if someone has experienced it in the past.  Betrayal carries with it intense emotions–guilt, embarrassment, vengefulness–the loss of trust is difficult to live with.

      ::Ne considered his words and his approach. It was reassuring to know that the counselor did not expect nem to suddenly put these concerns aside, like some miraculous breakthrough would make nir fears, anxieties and bad memories vanish. Like ne would transform into a well balanced, well rounded individual who’d suddenly had a mental revolution. These problems ne faced had created deep rooted rust issues that had cost nem many friendships and prevented nem from forming even more still. It led to a sense of loneliness and isolation. If ne was an island then the borders were closed and very well protected. To date only one person had managed to slip ashore and things between them were not all sunshine and smiles.::

       

      Renos:  I’m glad you didn’t tell me I need to ‘get over it’.

       

      Stennes:  I don’t like to use the phrase “getting over” something.  I feel like it implies something that isn’t entirely true.  Our pasts never really go away, we just get better at dealing with them.  Hopefully.

       

      ::Without a desk or a PADD and stylus to hide behind or busy his hands, Didrik himself felt vulnerable sitting across from Renos, who seemed so troubled.  Didrik didn’t know the extent of nir problems, but having lived through his own extended period of inner turmoil, which had only recently settled through disquiet and into calm, he felt for what the captain was going through inside nir own mind.::

       

      Stennes:  Enough breakthroughs for one day, yes?  We still have some time left in this session, but I don’t want to put you through anything further if you’re not up to it.

       

      ::Was ne up to it? Part of nem wanted to press on and vanquish the foe inside. Ne wasn’t afraid of hard self-assessment and did not want to be seen as a coward for wanting to call it a day. A large part of nem did want to call it a day, to say ‘good effort’ and lie down somewhere dark and quiet, pushing away the demons back into their dark places to still nir mind again. To restore the barriers ne had spent years erecting and maintaining.::

       

      Renos: The greater question perhaps is whether anything useful could be gained within the time that is remaining. That was an in-depth and time consuming exercise, do we have time to start over?

      :: Did ne want to feel the pressing need to ‘have a breakthrough’ in whatever time remains so ne could feel ne have not wasted the counselor’s time? No.::

      Stennes:  You’re right.  We can re-engage in that exercise again in the future.  If you like we can continue with a more traditional framework.  Or we can leave things here, and you can take the rest of the session to reflect privately.

      Renos: I think it would be best to leave things here. Thank you for your time.

      ::There was a tinge of regret in nir voice for ne felt disappointed and as though no progress had been made here today. Ne had recognised nir fears and been unable to face them. Ne was spineless. A coward. Ne stood up, nir body language transmitting false pride and confidence. Ne wore a mask well, as ne always did, not wanting to admit nir true feelings to anyone.::
       

      ::Didrik hoped Renos didn’t feel like the entire session was for nought just because they uncovered some turbulence.  He admired Renos for nir openness and willingness to plunge deep into the vastness of nir own fear, his own mistrust.  Having sat for an extended period, Didrik slowly stood back up, hearing his joints crack and pop as he straightened himself.::


      Stennes:  Thank you for yours, Captain.


       

      Fleet Captain Renos - Commanding Officer, USS Darwin NCC-99312-A

      * Executive Council & Captain's Council Member
      * Cadet Steward
      A238805EB0
       
      and
       

      Lt Cmdr Didrik Stennes

      Counselor & Second Officer

      USS Darwin NCC-99312-A

      Justin D238804DS0

      FNS Assistant Facilitator

       

      “Night, field of stars above us, I pick one and name it for you,

      and all who are to come.”

    • ((Planet PR-652, Valley of the Core))
       
      Jorey: Well we won't know what's inside Pandora's box until we don't open it?
       
      ::Pandora’s box was a term that Merrick had heard often enough during his science studies, as certain experiments and avenues of investigations were described with that phrase. In classical Greek mythology, Pandora was the first woman on Earth, created out earth and water. She was endowed by the mythical gods with beauty, musical ability, and speech and she was supposedly given a box or jar that upon being opened released death and many other evils into the world leaving only hope behind::
       
      R'Ven: ::a small smile traced itself across his Rodulan features momentarily:: If memory serves, very little good came from opening that box. ::wiping his hands on his pants after he placed his scanner in his pack.:: And I am sure we could have found and easier to open this door.
       
      Jorey: ::Smirking.:: It's not the most efficient method, but it's mostly silent and a little fun to get your hands dirty.
       
      ::As Merrick helped Jorey brush more of the dirt and debris separating them from the interior of this section of the ship he looked over at Jorey and for a it seemed as if the Commander were hearing something from the other side . . . and for a moment Merrick thought he could hear it too. It sounded strange. Like one voice and many, but also jumbled as if he were hearing a conversation and snatches of words. It was all too mumbled to make it out.::
       
      R’Ven: oO Could it be more of the Nanoprobes? Oo
       
      ::Retrieving his TriPadd Merrick tried to scan the interior but so far he was not getting a clear reading, but something was obviously there. Then Commander Jorey signaled.::
       
      Jorey: There is something strange on the other side. Get it opened and take cover behind the open door. I'll hide out on the other side of the doorway.
       
      ::Looking at the door and then back at Jorey Merrick nodded as he got to the left of the door. With his right hand he held his TriPadd and with the left he reached out to engage the opening mechanism of the door. Even as he heard the door begin to slide open Merrick could not help wondering if this can be likened to Pandora ’s Box, were they now releasing the evils . . . or the hope?
       
      ::As the door opened completely there was an unusual sound coming from inside and was getting closer, it sounded to Merrick like a discordant buzzing noise, although that did not properly describe it.::
       
      Jorey: Any idea what that is?
       
      R'Ven: ::glancing at his scanner and nodding:: Yes, it is  . . .
       
      ::Merrick’s words were taken as a metallic cloud seemed to boil out of the doorway. It looked like a swarm of some sort of miniscule insect. Only the insect was so small that the swarm looked like smoke as it billowed and turned and spun! And it was almost as if Merrick could hear the cloud . . or at least he thought he could.::
       
      R’Ven: oO FREEDOM!! Oo :: It took some time to realize that what he was ‘hearing’ was not through his ears but inside his own head, and it echoed like a klaxon in his mind!::
       
      R’Ven: oO What was that? If there is something to be felt perhaps I can reach out to them? Oo ::Very carefully Merrick reached out with his mind, tentatively trying to touch whatever sentience was there . . . if there was any. What Merrick was unaware of was that while some of the cloud rose skyward a tendril had reached out for him . . . ::
       
      ((Inside Merrick’s head))
       
      ::Merrick suddenly found himself standing in a vast open field. In each direction he turned there were only miles and miles of lush green grass and rolling hills stretching out as far as his eye could see. He could feel warmth shining down on him and looking upwards he saw a sky of the clearest crystal blue, the color was only broken by the sun beaming warmly down onto his dark skin. As Merrick looked around again figures start to appear of various races, some of them human, others Vulcan one even a Rodulan who is immediately familiar.::
       
      ‘Arlisa R'Ven’: ::smiling:: You have freed us!
       
      R’Ven: Mother? ::Even as Merrick spoke, something was telling him that that was not his the Rodulan who had help to raise him.::
       
      ‘Arlisa R'Ven’: ::a sad frown:: We are not your mother.
       
      ::The voice sounded strange, it was his mother’s voice, and yet wrong in some way he could not define. ::
       
      R’Ven: ::getting his barings:: You are the Borg then?
       
      ‘Kali Nicholotti’: We are not the Borg
       
      ::This voice came from his left side this time startling him and he jerked his to look at his old captain from the Apollo, a human woman of Japanese decent. She sounded almost angry, defiant!:: oO Why is she here? And where is mother? Oo ::As Merrick looked around his mother was gone, replaced by what seemed to be an endless sea of people.::
       
      ::Turning back to speak to Nicholotti she was gone too now and he began to spin in place as different people moved around him, and yet all of them seemed . . familiar?::
       
      R’Ven: ::sounding a trifle panicked:: Then who are you?!
       
      ‘Isabel Pond’: ::from behind him:: It's injured
       
      ::As Merrick paused to look at Pond he felt a coolness at his lip. Reaching up with a finger and pulled it back: Blood.:: oO I am bleeding? How? What is happening here? Oo ::As he looked back up at Pond Merrick thought he saw compassion on her face before she disappeared into the crowd of people that surrounded him.::
       
      R’Ven: You are in my head! ::The realization hit him like a sledgehammer! Everyone he saw in the crowd is someone that he had met somewhere in his life. Family, shipmates, people he had not seen since his academy days.:: You are all memories. That is how you are communicating through my memories!
       
      ‘Maxwell Traenor’: We will not be silenced!
       
      R’Ven: Yes, but who would want to silence you. ::He thought he knew the answer to this one::
       
      ‘Luna Walker’: ::The half Romulan engineer Merrick knew from the Apollo:: The Borg wish to recover us to take away our voice
       
      ::Merrick’s head was starting to pound as he fell to his knees, his strength failing suddenly. Telepathy always caused him pain, and now here he was pushing it harder than he ever dared. And he was paying the price.::
       
      R’Ven: We want only to help you! ::He thought he heard a desperate edge to his voice. Maybe he was more injured then he knew.::
       
      ‘Varaan’: Its communication apparatus is destabilizing
       
      ‘Graeme Cook’: We see it. It was not designed for this. It is damaged.
       
      ::Was that pity Merrick saw in [...] Cook’s eyes . . sadness::
       
      ‘Renos’: Fix it
       
      R’Ven: oO What? Fix what? I have . . Oo
       
      ‘Vanik R’Ven’: You shall be free!
       
      R’Ven: Father . . .
       
      ::In a burst of humor Merrick realized they saw his telepathy as a form of communication much like a subspace transmission.:: oO Can they fix it something they do not understand? Oo ::Of course the tall dark eyed Rodulan standing above him was not his father, but he still felt a sense of comfort and compassion nonetheless. The question was, was that from his own memories or was it coming from them . . the nanoprobes who were ‘Not the Borg’::
       
      ::Merrick’s world went black.::
       
      ((Back in the real world))
       
      ::Merrick found himself laying on his back once again, while above him the last of the billowing cloud of nanoprobes moved swiftly upward! He was alone again in his thoughts and for a long moment all Merrick could feel was a sense of profound loneliness and loss.::
       
      Jorey: **unanswered tag**
       
      ::Strength was slowly returning to Merrick. Reaching up to his nose with his index finger, he pulled it back and found dried blood. He wiped it away::
       
      R’Ven: I feel fine.
       
      ::Truth be told he did feel fine. He was tired and he felt like he needed to eat a very large meal, but he felt fine. Even his headache was gone. As he came to his feet Merrick glanced around, not quite sure how he felt when instead of a green field and blue sky he saw only a debris strewn area and a doorway leading into towards the Central Plexus.::
       
      Jorey: **unanswered tag**
       
      R’Ven: I . . . I do not know what happened. I felt a . . . sentience there, it seemed almost call to me and I reached for it and . . . ::Merrick’s words were cut off by the chirp of an opening comline and then Varaan’s voice.::
       
      Varaan: ::tapping his combadge:: =^=Varaan to Jorey and R'Ven. Doctor Cook and I are on the ridge roughly 20 meters from the wreckage. Can you communicate?=^=
       
      Jorey: =/\= I'm always ready for a little tittle-tattle, Commander. =/\= ::He turned to Merrick and whispered.:: You okay?
       
      ::As the call came in Merrick glanced at Jorey and then after a moment exhaled slowly and evenly as he realized that the voice was Varaan’s this time, not something else.::
       
      R’Ven: ::nodding:: They must have completed their recovery of the Borg and are ready to join us? ::Merrick reached down to pick up his pack again and his TriPadd.:: I am fine, really.
       
      Jorey: ::Brayden holstered his weapon.:: What do we have, Lieutenant? 
       
      =/\= =/\= =/\= =/\= =/\= =/\= =/\= =/\= =/\= =/\=  
      LIEUTENANT MERRICK R'VEN
      Science Officer  =/\=   Cybernetics Officer
       USS Darwin-A   =/\=   ID:  A239210MR0
      “Clarity of thought and accuracy of conjecture.”
      =/\= =/\= =/\= =/\= =/\= =/\= =/\= =/\= =/\= =/\=  

    • There are a few studies online about the possibility of real-life synthehol attempts, and this link provides a nice, short, and concise explanation about how alcohol works on the mind and how synthehols could be produced and how they would act. From what I can gather, a synthetic alcohol would work to simulate the dopamine surge to elicit the pleasant mental effects of alcohol without any of the toxic, debilitating symptoms that occur with the breakdown of ethanol. So, pleasant short term buzz without the lasting detrimental effects. Thanks for asking about this, as it caused me to do a bit of research and I can now more competently use synthehol in my sims! :)

      • Like 2
    • ((Iria's Shuttle - Deep Space))

      Tarna: Please don’t get upset. Iria you are a wonderful person and I greatly value our friendship. I’m certain you will find love but it won’t be with me. I’m sorry but I just don’t see that changing.

      ::Was he patronizing him now? The little ember of anger ignited and exploded in her chest at what seemed to be an offhanded remark. She began to squeeze her fists trying to somehow keep her temper intact. The words from her psych eval came tickled the back of her mind. "Iria is a high functioning psychopath with a tendency towards violence". Violence sounded so good right now.::

      Iria: ::angrily:: Excuse me? You saved my life. You sent me PICTURES and you don't love me? 

      ::Janel’s mouth opened and closed a few times as the bewildered Trill struggled to decide what to say next. Things were very rapidly escalating and that made him very nervous indeed. He knew he had to remain calm, speak gently and try to descalate the situation. He did not feel he had led her on and was shocked that she took these two things as a sign of love. He didn’t want to seem callous but when he had saved her life he had just been following order, he had just been doing his job. There had been many people on the radiation flooded deck that needed evacuating and he had saved as many of them as he possibly could, including her. As for the rest, that had been a simple gesture of friendship and nothing more. Now was probably not a good time to correct her and point out that he had actually only sent one picture… Probably this was just an honest sli of the tongue brought about by frustration and the last thing he wanted to do was add to it.::

      Tarna: I saved a lot of lives that day Iria. That’s what doctors do. I sent you the picture as a gesture of friendship. Because I thought you might like something to make your quarters a little more like home… They were two acts of kindness but that does not equate love.

      ::The swirl of anger and hatred began to poke at her mind as the reason for his apparent lack of interest. How could she have been so blind? It had to be that other woman keeping him hostage from her!::

      Iria: It's Rosek, isn't it! She's convinced you to stay with her. That's it, isn't it? :: growling:: I'll KILL her! 

      ::Janel had loved Rosek like no other but the circumstances in which they had met, the things they had endured together and the drugs that had coursed through his system. It had been hard to figure out how much of his emotions had been his own and how many had formed due to the emotion enhancing drugs and dire circumstances. He had been heartbroken when he had been transferred. He had been suspicious that the counselor, thinking their relationship unhealthy, had brought it about to break the two of them up. He couldn’t prove that though and though his heart still ached for her he was getting over her. He definitely wasn’t looking for love right now and just wanted to figure out what to do now that joining was out of the question. In some ways he’d got his life back. He didn’t have to follow a plan set by others, he didn’t have to jump through endless hoops in pursuit of a goal that mattered more to his family than himself. He could do the things he was passionate about and figure out what he wanted from life. He felt panic that Iria would threaten to kill her as she had proven to be dangerous in the past.::

      Tarna: You can’t do that!!! Rosek and I are no longer a couple. She has moved on. She has nothing to do with this at all. 

      ((8 Months Ago - Ensign Lael Rosek's Quarters - USS Victory))

      Rosek: ::laughs:: I meant are we dating or what?

      ::Janel scratched his cheek and considered it. Given everything that had happened he probably should have been avoiding making any commitments. Of course he wasn’t exactly thinking about the fact his decision making processes could be completely skewed right now and dating didn’t sound too bad though. He reasoned that it was hardly as big a commitment as marriage and it spoke to him of the getting to know you stage. That was what he wanted.::

      Tarna: What do you want to do? Dating sounds good to me.

      Rosek: ::brushes her lips against his:: Sounds good to me, too. Oh! ::grabs a PADD from her bedside table:: This is for you.

      Tarna: Oh?

      ::He took the PADD and sat himself more upright so he could get a good look at its contents. He couldn’t imagine what was on here that had her looking so pleased with herself.::

      Rosek: ::grins:: It's a letter to the Symbiosis Committee.

      Tarna: Huh?

      Rosek: I contacted my friend, Alva, when we got back and she agreed to look at your service record and write a letter recommending you for joining.

      ::Janel was totally blown away and found it hard to believe there was anything in his short career of 8 months only that would impress Alva, much less the symbiosis commission. In fact one could almost argue that each mission had gone more badly than the one before. By that logic he needed to hand in his resignation immediately. Furthermore, the Commission were expecting progress on the research project he’d undertaken while in his final year at the Academy, and shamefully he’d made no progress on it due to duty and time constraints. He read the contents of the PADD through several times.::

      Tarna: Wow! Thanks so much, this really means so much to me! 

      Rosek: ::smiles:: I thought it might.

      Tarna: There must be something I can do for you by way of thanks?

      Rosek: Keep yourself out of trouble and that'll be thanks enough.

      ((END FLASHBACK ))

      ::Fear coursed through her mind mixing with the rage that boiled within. He was lying to protect her now? How could she have been so blind not to see that he was only using her! Iria's mind was a mess of conflicting emotions with one side trying to convince her that it was all a big misunderstanding, but drowned out by the scream of the other.::

      Iria: Liar! She's making you say that! I've seen the way she looks at you!

      ::Rosek had been the one to call it off with him. Having a long distance relationship wasn’t fulfilling enough for her and she had needed to be able to move on. Janel could understand that even if it hurt. He was jealous of the fact she had seemed to move on so easily. She had found someone else whereas he was still struggling to move on and find himself. He wished she still looked at him like that because nowadays they barely kept in touch as friends.::

      Tarna: Not any more she doesn’t. Even if she did it wouldn’t change my decision. Can we go back to the outpost now, please?

      :: Through all the noise of her mind and the swirling emotions of devastation and hatred, the through hit her like a icy bolt of clarity. Tarna did not love her. Tears welled up in her eyes as sorrow washed over her. She had made a fool of herself, the man never had any interest in her. Iria arms drooped to her side as he tried to calm her. ::

      Iria: oO He doesn't love me. Oo

      ::It snapped. One could almost say they heard it, but a dark warm feeling flooded through Iria and her eyes grew cold with hatred and despair. A feeling that she had not felt since she fought and killed alongside her father Nugra. The hatred, the rage, that outright despair choked her. She flew forward with a scream of rage and struck him three times in the chest with her fist screeching.::

      Iria: You. WILL. LOVE. ME!!!

      ::He looked stunned and then down at his chest. Iria's eyes followed his and the haze of violent emotion evaporated and the three growing circles of red on his chest. Janel's face blanched white and he stumbled back. Iria looked down at her left wrist and saw that the hidden blade that she always wore there was fully extended and dripping red. The young Myrivan murderess caught him in his arms as he fell sickness sweeping through her. What had she done? What in the name of all things innocent had she done?::

      Iria: ::screeching:: NO! NO! NOOOO!!!

      ::She pressed hard on the wounds trying to force the life blood back in, but her hands quickly became coated in the slick liquid.::

      Iria: ::agony:: NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!  

      ::Filled with the most intense pain he had ever felt Janel could no longer stand, he could hardly form a coherent though. Life was fading from him  fast and he knew his time had come. There was no chance for goodbyes. He was already dead to his family - his mother having told the rest of his friends and family he was dead, told him never to return to Trill or contact any of them again. He had failed. He had failed to earn the love and respect of his family. His mother would surely feel relieved that she no longer had to worry about him coming back to spite her and expose her lies. He’d long imagined that even were he stood right in front her her she would deny his existence, claiming him to be an imposter rather than admit her own son was not fit for joining. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and he was filled with sadness and regret. No one would mourn his loss. He had followed someone else’s dream all these years and now it was over.::

      Tarna: ::Weakly:: I’m sorry.

      ::Iria scooted back from the now lifeless eyes of her love. She clutched her fists to her chest wide eyed in horror. He was gone. Janel Tarna was gone. Stopping as her back came flat with the shuttle hull, she gaped dumbfounded. Iria, Daughter of Nugra, had murdered him.::


      PNPC Iria
      As Simmed By…
      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
      Colonel Nugra
      Marine Commanding Officer
      USS Doyle-A, NCC-80221-B
      Podcast Team Facilitator
      Deputy Commandant
      Captain's Council Magistrate
      V238008N10
      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                         & 


      =/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=
      PNPC Lt Janel Tarna - Outpost Unity Medical Officer
      Simmed by:-
      Fleet Captain Renos
      * Commanding Officer, USS Darwin
      * Executive Council & Captain's Council Member
      * Cadet Steward
      =/\=/\=/\= A238805EB0 =/\=/\=/\=

    • ((Space, just outside the Darwin))

      ::Praxo was flying Talaxian shuttles again, finally! After a month in the clean, advanced but somehow character-less Federation shuttles, he was very glad when he finally returned to Talax II and his own, custom built craft. However, today he was en route with a Dalex type Talaxian shuttle.::

      ::He had left the Darwin after his assignment with mixed feelings. As much as he looked forward to piloting „real“ shuttles again, he most certainly missed the comfort of a Federation ship and the ever-changing routine of exploring the sphere. There of course weren’t many exciting incidents as they had on the very first trip and the further research on the blue space goo turned out unsatisfying, but it was an easy, comfortable life, and easy and comfortable was always good.::

      ::When home, the first thing he did was taking his shuttle to his favorite low altitude race track and soon agreed that it probably had been a bit too much comfortableness during the last month. However, he indeed missed replicators and also, most surprisingly, also his fellow pilot Shayne. It was clear, as soon as there would be a possibility to move to the newly built outpost, he would take it.::

      ::No question, when the Talaxian government contacted him again to participate in a completely new project with Starfleet, he not even bothered to play undecided to rise the rewards. He was supposed to teach Starfleet pilots the quirks of Talaxian shuttles, a task most certainly fitting for a pilot of his calibre.::

      ::Soon after, he was on his way back to the Darwin. Unfortunately not in his own craft. As much as he would have loved to show it off, even he agreed that it was contra productive to learn the art of piloting Talaxian crafts on a one-of-a-kind ship. So he decided to bring the Dalex type instead, a master piece of Talaxian engineering that was as well not to be scoffed at. It was the highest performing ship out of serial production in the size of a shuttle. Of course warp capable, but not suited for long distance trips.::

      ::When the already very familiar shape of the Darwin appeared on his view screen, Praxo hailed them.::

      Praxo: =/\= USS Darwin, this is Talaxian Shuttle DX257, are you receiving me? =/\=

      Traenor: =/\= ::chuckling::  Loud and clear.  Welcome back! =/\=

      Praxo: =/\= This is Talaxian delegate Praxo, request permission to dock.

      Traenor: =/\= Permission granted, Talaxian delegate Praxo.  ::smirk::  =/\=

      Praxo: Thank you very much.

      ::Praxo had no idea if he really counted as a delegate, but whatever. He assumed that anyone in charge would know him anyway. It was almost too easy to pilot a shuttle into the Darwin’s shuttlebay, even if you would come off the required trajectory, there were tractor beams to quickly bull you back on track. He made sure that that would not be necessary, as the two pilots he would soon teach about flying were already waiting there for him, surely judging his entry performance.::


      ((Shuttlebay, Deck eight, USS Darwin-A))

      ::After a landing as on point as it gets, Praxo proudly exited the craft through the hatch at it’s rear. Waiting for him were two Starfleet officers, one of them he knew already.::

      Praxo: Shayne! What a pleasant surprise!

      Shayne: Good to see you, Mr. Praxo. Nice of you to bring your ride here.

      Praxo: I’m glad you will be the first to lay hand on good Talaxian technology. And who we have here? I’m Praxo, first class flight instructor and record holder on not less than fourteen race tracks in this sector alone.

      ::He of course made this titles up as he talked, but they were somewhat truthfully. At the end, who cared that he made up most of these tracks himself for his personal use and that he never was outside of this sector?::

      Manius: Lieutenant Manius, medical doctor and pilot. 

      Praxo: I heard you are here to learn about the art of flying Talaxian shuttle, so should we start right away?

      Shayne: I don't see why not. I'm rearing to go.

      Manius: Then let’s proceed. 

      Praxo: Good, I like your eagerness. I will consider that during your final exam. ::A bit less confident:: Will there be an exam?

      Shayne: Absolutely not!

      Praxo: Alright, no exam then.

      ::The Talaxian took his walking stick, one that he bought solely for an occasion like this one and certainly won’t need, and tucked it under his right arm while starting to walk a few steps back and forth. He thought he must look incredibly cool and super important.:

      Praxo: You’re standing in front of the finest piece of Talaixan engineering. The Dalex type is the newest creation of our skillful technicians. Warp 4, high performance impulse drive, redundant computer core, absolutely no automated flight control aids, what more could you possibly ask for?

      ::Dramatic pause::

      Praxo: The Dalex type has a two seated [...]pit and in the back either a considerable amount of cargo space or two more or less comfortable passenger seats. It comes with a strong double-emitter defensive deflector system and two state of the art laser cannons. Do you have any questions so far?

      ::He was very proud of the delivery of his speech. oO I should definitely consider becoming an entertainer Oo ::

      Shayne: How does she handle?

      Praxo: I hear that some Federation pilots like to refer to their ships as women. That’s cute. But with the Dalex type, it is not only true, it is worse. This one is a diva. Forget your Federation craft flying skills and prepare for the „press a button, wait a few moments and see if it does what you want“-kind of flying. I’m kidding. The computer is sometimes a bit slow, but it will always EXACTLY do what your inputs are, it’s only doubtful that this will be what you want it to do. But enough of talking, let’s take a look inside, shall we?

      ::Praxo pointed with an inviting gestures to the still open hatch.::

      Shayne: ::To Manius.:: Shall we?

      ________________
      MSPNPC Praxo

      simmed by

      Ensign Isabel Pond
      Medical Officer
      USS Darwin-A
      D239212IP0

    • ::She was aware she was conscious when she realized she could hear the soft beeping around her. Her memory was chunky and hazy, but somehow she recognized that the beeps were most likely coming from something mechanical. What exactly, she wasn't sure...yet. Speaking of memory, she decided to give it another try to see what exactly she could remember. Her name? Check. Where she was? Hmmm...no. Frankly, she was having a hard time remembering her last memories. But she did puzzle out that the reason all she saw was blackness was because her eyes were still closed. Why? Could be that the effort to open them meant she had to physically move a part of her body, even as small as her eyelids, and that concept made her feel exhausted. But, she felt that it was something important enough that she should at least try.::


      ::So, she opened her eyes. The light hurt, even though she could tell that it wasn't very bright in here. Must have been because her eyes were used to being closed for so long. How long had it been? No way to tell unless her memory decided to work again. But what was she looking at? A pattern of white squares? Nothing else in her field of vision. She'd have to move her head. Great...more physical exertion! But it had to be done. Information was the most important asset you can have.::


      ::Where did that thought come from? She have to puzzle that out later. But, she agreed with it. So, right now she needed to turn her head. it hurt, much more than opening her eyes, and the fatigue nearly overwhelmed her. But somehow, recognizing what she saw meant that her memory was still functional, if a little disjointed, and it gave her a sense of hope, which counted the pain and fatigue a little. Lots of neutral colours, and cool grey metal. And windows.::


      ::The light was from natural daylight entering through the windows of the room, for now she could see that she was in a room. Outside the windows she could see green trees and grass, blue sky. A beautiful day. Something inside her longed to be out there, rather than cooped up inside. Inside. Inside where? Her longing for the natural world outside her windows made it difficult to look away, but she forced herself to, and a single tear managed to escape from the corner of her eye and trickle down her face. She lacked the strength to wipe it away, so she left it alone.::


      ::What she was looking at reminded her of something...her memory was trying to work again. Funny how she could easily remember things like trees and sky, but had trouble recognizing other things. Wait. The room, it had an odd smell to it as well. It smelled...sterile, clean. But not fresh like outside. Then another sound drew her attention. Her eyes darted to the other side of the room from the windows. A woman wearing some type of clothing that tugged at her memory was entering through a door. The woman stopped when she saw the open eyes, smiled, and spoke softly.::


      Woman: Good. You're awake. I'll go inform the doctor.


      ::She left through the doorway again, but she had left a very important clue. Doctor! The recognition came to her. She was in a medical facility! That woman was a nurse in a nurse's uniform. The neutral colours, beeping machines and sterile smell...she was in a hospital room!::


      ::But why?::


      ::Medicine was for the sick and injured. Was she sick, or injured? Now she realized that she was lying on a hospital bed, and had been staring at the ceiling when she first opened her eyes. But that gave her no clue. Both the sick and injured would be on hospital beds while they were patients. Her great fatigue could be the result of either an illness, or an injury, so that piece of information was irrelevant as well. The door opened and the nurse returned with another woman, most likely the doctor that the nurse had mentioned. They both were smiling the "rest easy, I'm here to help you, not hurt you" smile that medical practitioners spent years trying to perfect. They moved to her bed and began running scans, checking equipment, speaking medical-babble...all of which was too much for her sluggish brain to take in at once.::


      ::Then the door opened again. This time two men entered, and they weren't wearing medical uniforms, but uniforms of some other type. The second man had no expression on his face at all, but the first man was also smiling. However, his smile was different from the doctor's. This man's smile had more...guile? hidden in it. And for some reason, she liked that smile more than the doctor's.::


      Man: ::to her:: How are you feeling?


      Doctor: She's probably still too weak to speak, though I'm sure she can hear you fine.


      Man: ::still to her:: Do you remember anything about what happened?


      ::She just stared up at the man. Did she know him? Should she? Something about him was familiar...but was it his face or his uniform? And in answer to his question...remember what happened about what? And she couldn't move her mouth to answer...she was just too tired. So she did what she could - she stared blankly at the man.::


      Man: ::looking to the doctor:: What is the prognosis?


      Doctor: Well, the fact that she's conscious already is a good sign. It means her body is healing at a normal rate. With injuries like she had sustained, some patients bodies take far longer to heal than they should. ::smiling down to her:: If she keeps resting and healing like this, I'd say she should make a full recovery in a month...maybe less.


      Man: Fine, fine. ::looking back down to her as well:: Because they have returned. And due to your familiarity with the situation and the location, we have decided to place you in charge this time.


      ::The man leaned down a little closer and smiled again. This time, his voice was just above a whisper, but filled with excitement.::


      Man: How would you feel about a promotion...CAPTAIN Yenard?


      ::The memories suddenly came flooding back. This time, she had the strength to smile in response.::


      -TBC (at some point)



      -------------

      MSNPC Yenard, Captain

      Commanding Officer

      Numiri Imperial Worldsphere Recovery Fleet

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