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Randal Shayne

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Posts posted by Randal Shayne

  1. ((Main thoroughfare, Atlas Base))


    ((Timestamp: After the awards ceremony.))


    It was inadvisable to be walking alone in uniform, especially a dress uniform, but if anyone could defend themselves,especially while not under arms, it was Lieutenant Artinus Serinus.  The tall, dark, and handsome Magna Roman had been wrestling since age five, was proficient in several other martial arts, and was among the top 10 decorated athletes in Academy history. He hadn't really got to tour the base in any unofficial capacity, and had an overwhelming desire to get the lay of the land.


    In the distance, on the right, was a Klingon child of about 10, probably a girl from their clothing, standing behind a box.  As he got closer, he saw writing on the box in Klingon, that said "Free to good home" He could now hear the cacophony of tiny grunting coming from the box.


    oO Baby Targs?Oo

    He approached the child, a girl he was now certain of it.


    Artinus: Greetings young warrioress, are you giving away targ babies?

    Klingon girl:  Yes, Father says that we can't afford to feed them now that they are weaned.

    Can't afford them? Why wasn't he making her sell them? Perhaps he shouldn't look a gift Targ in the mouth. But he felt sorry for the kid and het family nonetheless. He made a mental note to track down the family and bring some replicated meals.

    He looked down in the box spying three spiky piglets, each with course black and white fur. He leaned down and very gingerly picked one, the runt, up. He gave it a quick look over to access it's health, then checked it's sex. It was a female, which would be ideal. Targs were possibly aggressive enough, without the extra testosterone.


    Serinus: What breed are these?

    Klingon girl: Miniature swordbacks.

    Serinus: I don't know that breed, I assume they are a pet breed?


    After all, why would a hungry family give up a potential meal or three?


    Klingon girl: That is correct. 

    Serinus: This girl ::holding up the targlet:: does she have a name?

    Klingon girl: Father said that we shouldn't name the runt. They die a lot in that breed.

    The horrors of selective breeding. Still, this tiny targlet had survived. Thankfully, he had seen the memo on preapproval for all reasonable pets. He'd bring her aboard tonight, and file the paperwork when he got to his personal P.A.D.D.


    Serinus: ::giving a small smile downwards:: I'll take her. Thank you!

    Klingon girl: Could I say goodbye first?

    Serinus: Sure!


    He handed her carefully to the child, who scratched the targlet's head, and told her to be brave, and good, and then handed her back over.


    Serinus: She'll have a good home, I promise.

    The girl smiled this time.

    Klingon girl: Thank you, sir.


    He cradled his new pet in his left arm, and waved to the girl.


    Serinus: Q'apla!

    Klingon girl: Q'apla!




    Lieutenant Artinus Serinus

    Chief Security Officer

     USS Arrow,  NCC-69829

     Publicity Team/Social Media Team


    • Like 3
  2. (( Hall 1, Deck 16, Starbase 821 ))


    Nakada: Commander, who can I speak to about getting back on board the ship? I’d like to help out with the repairs. I have little other work on board the station anyway.


    Shayne: Good man. I’ll speak to the dock master, but don’t forget- you’ve got enough on your plate already. That paperwork isn’t going to finish itself, and right now, you’re the ranking engineering officer.


    Keneth was a bit confused for a second, before he caught on, mentally facepalming himself. He was being told to submit the engineering reports, which, considering he was the only engineering officer onboard at the moment, made sense. The tactical officer seemed to have come to a similar conclusion


    Serinus: Yes sir, seeing as there are currently no Tactical Officers assigned to the Arrow, at least to my knowledge, is it safe to assume that those responsibilities fall on me, as well?


    Shayne: At least for the time being, yes. I will be reassessing that regularly, but for now, you are our duly notarized Security and Tactical officer. I assume you’re up for it? 

    He didn’t hear the officer’s response, mentally dividing his work. He definitely had It cut out for himself. He was brought back by a curt silence, followed by the realization that the others were watching him.


    Nakada: Sorry. Yes, sir. I’ll get to the report immediately. Should be done well before we launch.


    He nodded and turned away, heading towards the turbolift. It was time to see how the ship was doing.


    (( Main Engineering, Deck 3, USS Arrow ))


    So, update. The ship was doing fantastically, all things considered. It seemed the starbase crew had given up on the existing warp core after it had “emitted puffs of lemon-scented black vapor and spilled its coolant matrix onto the deck” or as the dock master had put it “it threw up so we yanked it”. They had just replaced the entire assembly, which was surprisingly simple, owing to the existing ejection mechanisms. The new core was purring soundly, plus had a minor upgrade so they could actually sustain Warp 5 without sacrificing other systems, such as the secondary medical computer.


    He had helped them with the rest of the deck, which had been completely cleaned up with fresh teal paneling, uncracked displays and a spotless floor to top it off. The modularity was a blessing. Entire consoles were just … removed and replaced. In some ways, the urgency of the situation was an agent as well. He was pretty sure they wouldn’t have gotten unlimited use of the industrial replicators without some pulled strings somewhere.


    There were hidden signs of the expedited timeline though. His audit had revealed that much of the power system had been hastily patched around. While the damaged and destroyed hardware had been cleared, some of the work was … unfavorable. They had had to run nearly all the weapons through just two relays, which was uncomfortably non-redundant, but the remaining lines had been completely trashed and they did not have the time to replace them.


    He had then proceeded to ask where the holodeck was, so that they could take it offline for the time being. This had lead to a half an hour search, after which a crewman had the excellent sense to consult the computer. The computer had cheekily (that might have been in his head) replied that the only recreational facility onboard was a gymnasium. Keneth just shook his head. The ship was quite old and had been built for the war - at least this meant one less power draw on the system.


    He’d finished up his report toward late evening, as the starbase personnel had finally departed, leaving an unrecognizable deck and a lonesome PADfD full of data. His quarters were a deck below, which suited him just fine. It meant that it was less likely somebody would show up at two in the morning with an inane request like “should we light the warp core yellow or blue today” or “Dan caught his beard on a plasma conduit” or “can we have a toilet near the Jefferies tube”. For the billionth time, no, he was not going to ask Commander Shayne for a toilet near … how did they even come up with this?


    In other news, he’d finally trimmed his beard to a less scraggly windswept look, which Crewman Patrick had chided him for. You should look wild!, he’d proclaimed while he stroked his own gigantic face plumes. Keneth told him that any more hair on board and they’d collectively clog the air ducts.


    Overall, when he sat down on the big chair in his room, he was feeling quite satisfied. He was somewhat nervous about what they were heading into though. Those kind of numbers were last seen … Romulus. He suddenly realized what had been irking him. For all the amazing work the crew had done, they had absolutely no idea what kind of horror show they were about to arrive in. They were a small, weakish ship by any reasonable metric.


    Starfleet’s main strength has always been it’s people, he reminded himself. They didn’t really churn out officers like the Klingons. It took years of training, resources and dedication to graduate. Their best hope, like always, was to simply outsmart the enemy. He fidgeted with his hot chocolate, his fourth that day, especially since he discovered they had a caffeinated version.


    There would be more information at the briefing he console himself, as he forced himself to doze off into a fitful sleep. Just outside, the stars burned bright into the void that they would soon be back in.


    • Like 2
  3. @Sal Taybrim I am- and this is true- an absolute cretin. Please accept my apologies. I completely forgot that you were the mind and writer behind Cade Foster. I look forward to writing with you again, either with Cade or Taybrim. And this time, I'll try not to be such a fully-rigged, rate A-1, ocean going pillock. 

    • Like 2
  4. ((OOC: Awesome sim, Ensign @Keneth Nakada!))

    (( Shuttlebay 2, USS Arrow ))

    Nakada: ::whispering:: Commander, those are some very primitive suits.

    Collins: Indeed, Ensign, but maybe we can turn that to our advantage. Scan for any junction points, exposed areas, or weak points in the structure of the suits if you can and as quick as you like, thank you...

    Keneth took a second to steady his hands. He was scared. Really scared. First time, eh? His brain chirped a little too cheerily. Adrenaline kicked in pretty quickly and he fumbled his tricorder open, carefully breaching the dampening field with just the front of the sensors pack. A reassuring stream of data began appearing. Atmospheric pressure, spatial volume … engineering schematic breakdown. The device’s scans showed what appeared to be unibody insulated construction, except for ...

    Nakada: The sides.The tiny black indentations on the sides of the suit appear to be exposed circuitry, maybe to ground it, or externally deactivate the suit. Regardless, I they appear to connect directly to the internal systems.

    Probably. Most of it was just guesswork. It had been a while since he’d read an engineering schematic raw. He was too used to nice holographic representations with simulations.

    Collins: Of course they bloody are. ::He turned to the warrant officer.:: Would shooting those kill them?

    The warrant officer thought for a second.

    Kingsley: It should - or I imagine it might cause an overload in their power systems and cause them some time to reset. Even some time to reset would be helpful.
    Collins: Okay, good. I want to stem any more loss of life if we can avoid it. Here's the play. I am going to get them to expose that area and then you two, being the hip young gunslingers you are, are going to disable them. Hopefully allowing us to ask them a few questions and get up to the Bridge to hopefully kill that ruddy dampening field. Everyone clear?

    He nodded, fighting an impulse to giggle at hip young gunslingers. It was a snort-worthy comment.

    Nakada: Yes, sir.
    Collins: If I told you that, you wouldn't let me do it. Just be ready...

    Keneth watched keenly. Maybe the commander had some further knowledge about them that he could glean from what he did next. Then the commander raised his hands and sprinted comically at the suits. He was torn between calling the commander a fumbling idiot and simply saying it was technically the simplest trick in the book. So simple it would work.

    The warrant officer looked like she wanted to have an aneurysm as she bit her tongue.

    Collins: Heya, boys!

    The suit let out a noise. He sincerely hoped it was a similarly raucous introduction.

    Collins: SAY, this isn't Deep Space 12! Gee, Stellar Cartography isn't what it used to be, is it?

    Keneth had to actively remind himself of what was happening to stay focused. This was hilarious.

    Collins: I tell ya, boys, you think you know a map and then it just spits ya out right where ya least wa-

    In a flash that broke his semi-unfocused state of befuddlement, the creature got over its confusion and grabbed the science officer, lifting him up like a helium carcass. Damn it, the commander couldn’t be hurt now. He had to find out what Skeets was. Just as he began to calculate how to get within range of the creature safely, Kingsley sprinted ahead. He wasn’t completely sure what to do, so he followed, staying to the side.


    See, that was an aberration of Federation Standard. Kingsley raised her phaser and fired straight at the narrow strip of exposure. In a moment of horror Keneth realised he was directly where the creature would fall. Cursing his absentmindedness, he ran around the creature, hoping he was still hidden, though that probably meant very little to the boarder’s sensors.

    Kingsley: That was stun! Increase to full power!

    He could hear faint beeps as the warrant officer adjusted her phaser settings and fired again.


    A small plasma shockwave went through the corridor as the electrical discharge arced outward. The boarder holding Collins dropped to the ground, though he couldn’t see what happened to the commander. He also very quickly realised that the other boarder was very quickly approaching him, raising his arm. Keneth was still dazed from the shockwave and wouldn’t be able to aim and Kingsley’s phaser was probably completely discharged …

    So he did the one thing he had been told never to do. He aimed his phaser at the access hatch across the hallway, closed his eyes and fired. He couldn’t risk announcing it - hopefully the other two would duck.



    The plasma conduit exploded, the remaining superheated gas in it dousing the other creature, ions overcharging their suits. A loud snapping sound came as a pungent odour of burning bulkhead material filled the air, another flash searing his retinas. The remaining boarder had dropped down.

    Nakada: HELLO? Commander? Kingsley? Anyone there?!

    He coughed violently as he steadied himself against the wall, desperately searching for the other two in the haze. He could feel his jovial nature wearing off as the situation settled and he realized what had just happened.

    Collins: Response
    Kingsley: Response
    Nakada: ::coughing:: I can’t, I don’t -

    He wanted to pass out. He was in over his head. He was supposed to tinker with EPS efficiencies and Warp XV drives. This wasn’t fair. It had been twenty four hours. Barely any time to do anything he’d imagined. Time to be a normal officer. He fought his nausea, his head spinning. Well, he thought ironically. He had the opportunity so many dreamed of – to make a difference. His crewmates were depending on him.

    Collins: Response
    Nakada: I don’t know how long we have. They seemed to be able to abs, ads, absorb ::heaving:: a fair amount of energy. We should assume they’ll wake up within fifteen minutes I’d think.

    He dropped to the floor and shook his head clear, fragments of debris falling out of his hair. They’d come so close to being puddles of soup.

    Collins: Response
    Kingsley: Response

    Ensign Keneth Nakada
    USS Juneau, NX-99801

    • Like 2
  5. Many officers approach Starfleet with high hopes and ambitious dreams. In some cases, these dreams include reaching the captain’s chair, or even the admiralty, a noble conclusion to a fine career of service and exploration. However, in some rare cases, Starfleet officers have gone beyond even these remarkable achievements, and have taken up positions in governance and civil service, or, as with Jonathan Archer, the presidency.

    It goes without saying that politics and civilian work do not appeal to all characters in our universe, or people in our world, and that acting as the president of a trillion individuals united under a single banner would be no easy feat. But someone must fill the role, and who better than an officer that has spent their life in the pursuit of the Federation’s ideals?

    How interested would YOUR character be in acting as President of the United Federation of Planets? 

    • Like 2
  6.    The courtroom was a taciturn affair, bland and uninteresting. Indeed, it was room modified by necessity; its purpose had been to hold spare deuterium tanks and spent parts, not to house the practice of law. And yet, the addition of several pennants on the walls- sigils representing Starfleet, the Federation and the starship Quin’lat added a sense of propriety and nobility to the otherwise dingy affair.
       For all its patriotic imagery, the room was taut.
    The seating was packed with people. Beings from across space had packed themselves into the cramped accommodations, rejecting the admiralty’s strategy of limiting the audience by moving the hearing to the Quin’lat from the nearby Starbase 773- the place from which this entire debacle had begun. Merchants, scholars, and- somewhat concerningly- a small contingent of purple-bedecked prylars, had taken up a vigil near the front. It was clear from Admiral T’Lara’s unusually pursed lips that this was already a poor start to what would likely be at best a grueling day, and at worst… one that might well live in infamy.
    Before her and to the left sat the prosecution. Commander Snow carefully addressed his already immaculate work space, smiling peacefully, but all the while bearing heavy eyes. Several feet away, the defense stewed. One of the men, identified by his four-pipped collar of red and his stolid, terrifyingly calm features, was Captain Dolame Reager, commanding officer of the Quin’lat. The other man, similarly human and composed of a softer disposition, was Lieutenant Argyle Mallon. His hands were folded before him, and he bore the confidence of a guaranteed victor.
       The gentle tapping of a bell, three tones of two, brought the quiet rumble of hushed conversations to an end. Admiral T’Lara cast her eyes about the room, and spoke in a clear, melodious voice.
       “This hearing, convened on Stardate 239601.23, is now in session. Commander Snow, you may proceed”.
       Snow stood slowly, spreading a dignified hand over his already smooth uniform. “I would like to call Lieutenant Mallon to the stand”.
       On cue, as though nothing else could have been said, Mallon stood, and airly made his way to the witness stand. He sat comfortably, and eyed Snow with vague curiosity as he extended his hand toward the verifier. A warble of electronic noise heralded the arrival of a man’s condensed accomplishments.
       “Verified. Lieutenant Argyle Mallon” The computer asserted. “Current assignment; USS  Quin’lat. Starfleet Command decoration for valor and gallantry. Beta Serpentis Expedition Medal, Daystrom Institute Commendation for Scientific Advancement…”
       The list continued for some time, each success seemingly more relevant and vast than the others before it. When it concluded some seventy seconds later, Commander Snow smiled.
       “An impressive career, made more extraordinary by your age and experience, lieutenant. A career based in honor and intelligence, but more than that… choices. Would you agree, lieutenant?”
       Mallon considered Snow for a long moment before smiling. “It is… a valid perspective, Commander.”
       “I’m pleased you feel that way, lieutenant”. Snow genuinely did sound glad. There was an unconventional sort of openness about him, well away from the dogged determination that many prosecutors elsewhere might display. “We are, after all, products of choices. Indeed, we are here now as a result of a choice- another fair characterization, lieutenant?”
       This time, Mallon was slower to respond. “Perhaps, sir. The topic of whose choice is still up for much debate.”
       Snow puckered his lips and nodded thoughtfully. “Well stated. Allow me, then, to clarify- and do feel free to interrupt me if I make an error here. On stardate 329512.02, the entire crew of the starship Quin’lat, yourself included, received certain orders from Starfleet Command. These orders, dispatched from Starfleet Medical, included instructions for a new round of inoculating medications to be administered to all hands.”     Snow drew himself out, and tilted his head in confusion. “Mr. Argyle, as I understand it, you refused those orders”.
       Argyle nodded. “Yes, sir. That is correct.”
       “Hmm. And… your reasoning for this action was spiritual in nature, was it not?”
       Argyle again paused. “Technically, sir, yes. My spirituality, however, is far more present in my life than that of most other humanoids. My roots stem from the Ty’bek mountains of Terra Nova.”
       T’Lara was listening intently to the peaceful discourse before her, but out of the corner of her eye, she could not help but notice the expression of quiet fury on the face of Captain Reager.
       “Yes- most present, I gather. Of particular note is your aversion, shall we say, to certain plants and medications?”
       “Yes, sir”.
       “Plants and medications that were present in the new vaccine Starfleet Medical ordered for all hands aboard the Quin’lat?”
       “Yes, sir- precisely.”
       Snow wrapped his hands around his back and began to pace before the witness chair.
       “Are you familiar, Lieutenant Argyle, with the circumstances regarding this order to innoculate?”
       Argyle nodded slowly. “Yes, I believe it was an outbreak of Rigelian Fever”.
       “Rigelian Fever- damned nasty”. Snow paused, swallowed slightly, and continued. “What would you, in your expert opinion, deem as the most dangerous feature of this particular illness?”
       Argyle perked up. “The rapidity with which it reaches the terminal stage. Those with Rigelian Fever either improve drastically or perish approximately twenty-four hours after infection.”
       “Damned nasty indeed.” Snow’s hands were clenched. “And yet… you refused the inoculation all the same”.
       “Yes, sir, I did”. Argyle was placid. Saved. But the upper hand was enjoyable to indulge. “Ingesting those ingredients would certainly see me denied entry to the Holy Resplendence after my death. I chose not to contaminate my body with such pollution. A choice, I might add, granted by the Federation Charter-”.
       “I would advise that you leave the intricacies of Federation law to me, Lieutenant”. Admiral T’Lara’s tone was icy but impartial. Argyle nodded towards her deferentially and returned his gaze to Snow. “That was my reasoning, and my choice.”
       “Then what?”
       Argyle sighed after a moment’s pause. “The situation was brought to the captain’s attention. Soon after, I was charged with disobeying the order of a superior, and sent to the brig. When not here, I am confined there, as I have been for approximately one standard week.”
       “An… unfortunate turn of events, to be sure”, said Snow, his voice filled with regret. “You then decided to challenge the charge?”
       “Yes, sir- and I should like to point out that, in defense of this attempt, I am enjoying the counsel of Captain Reager himself.” Argyle extended a hand to his captain and bowed his head. Reager’s eyes were intensely focused ahead of him.”
       “Most noble of the captain.” Snow nodded respectfully toward the glowering superior. “He protects his own. He has been doing that since he took command. It’s his job. You understand that? You understand that diseases like this kill in days? You understand that if he did anything but lock you away, and insist that everyone take the vaccine, he would be endangering everyone aboard? And everyone the Quin’lat came into contact with?”
       “To a degree.” Mallon leaned forward conversationally. “I’ve researched this disease and many others. Most are completely treatable with our technology today. Yes, a few may die of complications, but we are not immortal, nor are we designed to be. Plants and herbs and things overrule my feelings, my beliefs, all for what you say is the common good. Even if I don’t take it, the rest of the crew will. They will be protected! I don’t interact with many other people besides. Call me whatever you wish- delusional, irresponsible- but I do not deserve to lose my commission, and I do not deserve to be discriminated against in this way!”
       His voice was now high, angry, strained. The sudden attack was as close to real as it needed to be. The prylars near him kept a quiet gaze on Mallon, but murmurings from the crowd again began.
       “The gallery will return to order”, Admiral T’Lara confidently declared, and quickly, it was so. Snow moved toward Mallon suddenly, and the lieutenant nearly recoiled.
       “Argyle. I know you. I’ve known you since the Serpentis Expedition. You are brilliant. You don’t deserve to lose your commission, but least of all over something like this! You must accept that vaccine, for the good of us all! One more sacrifice to be made, but you and your life and those around you are worth it- please, Argyle! A personal favor if nothing else!”
       The tone was strong, and somber. Captain Reager was now standing, his impressive size and aura placing a blanket over any mutterings that may have resumed from behind. “The defense is influencing the witness”.
       “Sustained”, ruled the admiral, raising an eyebrow at the unusual statement. Snow, for his part, looked at Mallon with a genuine sadness before turning to address the audience, and Admiral T’Lara. He opened his hands and spread them to the audience, before lowering them and smiling ruefully.
       “I tried. I really tried. I rest, your honor.”
       Snow returned to his seat, now more disheveled and weakened by his performance. Admiral T’Lara looked to Reager. “Your witness, Captain.”
       Reager stood, and the rage in his eyes was suddenly directed precisely at Mallon. He wasted no time.
       “I declare that Mr. Mallon ought to be allowed to stay in Stafleet without taking the medication. Allow me to explain. Lieutenant. You were a part of the Serpentis Expedition?”
       “Yes, captain, that is correct.”
       “Describe it”. Reager’s reply nearly clipped the end of Mallon’s statement. Mallon, for his part, was ready.
       “Beta Serpentis was a medicinal research colony under the flag of Starfleet. Though the colony was designed to be remote in its construction, over the centuries it became larger and more general, transitioning to an active hospital facility as Federation civilians began to move there.”
       “And what happened there?”
       Here Mallon hesitated slightly, but spoke clearly. “Five years ago- in fact, on this very day- an act of terrorism partially destroyed the Beta Serpentis Medical Complex.”
       “Cost?” Reager’s business-like tone and apparent callousness stirred ire in the crowd behind him. Admiral T’Lara’s gavel again silenced it.
       “One hundred and thirteen dead, three hundred others wounded.”
       “Would you agree that it was a tragedy?”
       Mallon nodded somberly. “Yes, very much so”.
       “I wouldn’t.”
       Now the rage from behind the hearing stage swelled powerfully. The security officers flanking both sets of doors placed hands on their phasers. Admiral T’Lara stood, and gazed at the assembled masses with such insistent vigor that those that noticed advised their more irate comrades to calm themselves.
       “This will stop, or I will hold the next disruptor in contempt”. A muffled cough was the only response. Reager continued unabated.
       “Hundreds dead, yes? A sad thing to be sure. But- and this is merely my opinion on the subject- the casualties that followed were the real tragedy. Would you care to enlighten us to your experiences there?”
        Mallon’s eyes had gone from righteous, to startled, to utterly confused. He shook his head. Reager grinned.
       “Well, allow me. Beta Serpentis is a thriving world, a world with every sort of microbe and bacteria and animal. Thousands of disease samples from across the Federation and beyond were kept in cold storage and studied there, and thanks to the technology designed to maintain it, when the attack struck the hospital, the hazardous material was harmlessly destroyed. But… the illnesses on Beta Serpentis, native to that world and partly responsible for shaping it into the cruel vision of greenery it is today… change. They change quicker than most.”
       Reager moved toward his desk, and picked up a PADD. “In the words of the Head of Starfleet Medical at the time, ‘it is my opinion that the loss of these disease samples and equipment with which to synthesize effective antidotes to that year’s particularly egregious viral season contributed to the otherwise preventable deaths that occurred during that time- a number approaching nearly two million people.’”
       Reager wasn’t even bothering to hide his intensity, and Mallon continued to implore his captain for answers with his eyes.
       “Now… with that all said and done, answer me this, Lieutenant; In your professional opinion, why might someone keep such lethal materials so close at hand?”
       Mallon considered, and then responded. “To study, of course. There exist… certain occasions where maintaining a dangerous item, in order to learn from it and defeat it, is wise.”
       Reager allowed himself another small smile before turning toward Admiral T’Lara, who’s expression told of a dawning understanding.
       “I rest my case, your honor.”


  7. It’s been a staple of the Original Series for its entire run. Visited three times over the seasons, the Galactic Barrier stands as one of the more esoteric and dangerous threats the crew of the Starship Enterprise ever faced. Other vessels had and have attempted to penetrate the enormous purple energy field, usually at great- or absolute- cost. One thing is certain; though dangerous, the secrets it holds are probably vast.

    Starfleet’s mission, one of discovery and protection, would make the Galactic Barrier a tempting target for starship crews across the quadrants. Under what circumstances would you cross or enter the Galactic Barrier?

  8. Recently, the last episode of Picard’s first season was aired, or… added? Anyway, it’s been out for awhile now. Before the first episode was released, we ran a poll asking you what you were looking for in the new show. Most of y’all wanted a juicy story to get involved in. There is plenty of debate regarding whether the show delivered that, but as with any new piece of media, in depth consideration will take some time. We may ask for more thoughtful consideration in the future, but for right now, what did you think of the first season of Picard? Did it satisfy? Did it disappoint? Did it not interest you? Have you not watched it?

    What did you think of Picard? Let us know in the comments below! And please remember- no spoilers! 

  9. You've heard of James Bond, the suave, capable, utterly fearless mysogonist that never fails to get the girl- or get into trouble. Our cultural understanding of a secret agent is often informed by his actions and character. But, naturally, there's so much more potential for a worthy character to follow in his footsteps. Kirk, Picard, Sisko, Janeway and Archer each had noticable, seperate and distinct personalities, and each- generally speaking- managed to get the job done. The question then, is this- which of the captains do you think would make the best secret agent? Whatever you chose, know that there's at least one thing the captains and Bond have in common- Q is never far away. 

    • Like 1
  10. The possibilities that come with Star Trek are virtually endless; the setting, spirit and lore make for countless avenues of exploration. One of these is the fantastic technologies permitted. A sufficiently… shall we say unconventional mind is capable of imagining all sorts of new and weird potential uses for the technology. Sure, you could take the conventional route when it comes to major bodily changes for your health or appearance, but why bother when you could do something inadvisable and ridiculous? With that in mind, would you be willing to use the transporter to purposefully change parts of yourself? Give us your vote and let us know your thoughts in the comments section!

  11. I've been meaning to post this for a full two weeks now. I absolutely loved this- such a fantastic insight into Kettick. Brilliant work @Kettick!

    (( Captain's Private Mess, Deck 2, USS Eagle ))

    In Kettick's admittedly limited experience, an invitation to dinner from the Captain was not something you received everyday, but the Remmilian hadn't been bred for idle speculation. Trusting the reason to become apparent in due time, he had replicated a fresh uniform to replace his utility jumpsuit, read up on dinner customs from the vade-mecum he'd been issued when leaving the homeworld, and replicated a box of Bolian chocolates as the prescribed offering to the host.

    He knocked on the door right on time, and was ushered in, noting that Misters Kano and Collins were already present.

    Kettick: Good evening, Captain, Lieutenants. I hope I am not late.

    The manual had brushed upon being "fashionably" late, pretending that it was considered acceptable, and even likely to project a positive self-image in certain circumstances. Kettick had decided he would have none of it.

    Oddas: Not at all, you're still ahead of the XO.

    Lieutenant Kano gave the remark a controlled laugh - possibly indicating that the Captain's remark was a subtle joke. Kettick opted for a polite smile, just in case.

    Kano: And here I thought the XO was supposed to be the early one.

    Collins: I think First Officer's adhere to the same editch as wizards. "They are never early, nor late. They arrive precisely when they mean to."

    Yet another mysterious koan to ponder over later, and the Engineer couldn't find one on the same theme that could earn him a place in the conversation. He chose to focus his attention on the food presented in front of him; apparently it was a great source of topic changes when the discussion didn't go your way.

    Oddas: Well, if he doesn't get here soon we can either send a search party or get started without him.

    Kano: I vote to get started without him, hasperat that smells this good shouldn't be left.

    Ah. Kettick had been wondering about the source of this particular smell. Apparently it registered as pleasant to Bajorans, and he'd been inspired not to offer his services in checking the air conditioning filters.

    Quentin pointed toward the SEC officer with the neck of his bottle.

    Collins: I have to agree with my colleague there, Captain.

    As they spoke, The Captain nodded behind them and raised her glass, heralding the entrance of their freshly mentioned First Officer.

    Shayne: Evening, all. Captain.

    Kettick offered a silent nod of respect to match the Commander's greetings.

    Kano: Oh, captain I made mapa bread. :: the woman passed over the small package.:: it's a family recipe, my sister is the baker but I tried my best.

    Oddas: Thank you Ensign, I'm afraid I have no cooking ability - I'm counting on others tonight to take care of things.

    She placed the bread on the table, near the center for the group to share. If Kettick's memory served, home-made offerings were assigned a particularly high value, and this one was a traditional Bajoran dish to boot.

    Kettick: I've brought some sweets for after the dessert.

    And the dreaded moment of coffee... he hoped he wouldn't offend, nor ridicule himself in front of his betters.

    Collins: If you don't mind me asking, sir, was it odd giving orders again? After your...momentary brush with being just a lowly Engineer again like these two? ::he said with a wry, knowing smile pointing toward Shayne and Kettick.::

    He'd learnt his lessons from Ryan well - a smirk indicated that the speaker thought the opposite of what they said. Therefore, Collins' words were likely a veiled praise, and Kettick answered it by mirroring his smirk and nodding.

    Shayne: I’ll wager my pips that it would take more than a few days off the job for the captain to forgot how to give an order.

    Oddas: To be fair, I just assumed that by this point Mister Shayne would be getting used to the Captain's seat.

    Another smile. Another joke-lie. He hoped that he could navigate those all evening.

    The mess staff brought the dishes to the table, offering him an escape route once again.

    Shayne: That smells remarkably good.  

    Collins: Way to undersell it, sir. ::He said again with a wry, playful smirk.::

    Kettick had to agree, the dishes were positively mandible-clenching. The soufflé-looking thing that strongly smelled of salt must be the hasperat. Then there was a piece of meat and...

    Kettick: oO Oh. Oo

    Kettick seldom found himself at a loss for words, but the sight of the small, bulbous shaped stems with fractal appendages he knew so well filled him with something akin to reverence. This was a meal fit for a female, nay, a Queen. Either the cook had done his research but skipped on the social differences between sexes, or this was a mark of respect he felt utterly unworthy of. Eating it would almost be blasphemy.
    Then again, not eating something offered by the Captain was firmly into "can't even think about it" territory.

    Oddas: To the Eagle, the Crew, and the cooks of this very fine meal.  Thank you, and don't let me stop you from getting started.

    Kettick raised his glass of water to join in the toast, noting from the corner of his eye that the XO had opened a bottle of something that smelled of fermented fruit. Thankfully not the kind of paint thinner some humans liked to indulge in, but there was definitely some alcohol in there.
    The guests savored their first bite of their food, Kettick letting one of his greens melt in his mouth. He could almost feel the quality of his webbing improving already.

    Shayne: You know, I always heard that our chef makes a mean spiderbird steak, and now I’ve got proof.

    Kettick was about to object, based on his own experience with the taste of cooked hemolymph, when a general bout of restrained laughter stopped him cold. The remark had been, once again, a joke, and he'd nearly made a fool of himself. Again. He offered the table a guarded smile and went back to his plate, firmly decided to talk only if asked to, in order to avoid further embarrassment.

    Collins: Can I just ask, how the hell does one even GET Altirian Spider-Bird eggs? They had to have been a nightmare to try and box up, right?

    Oddas: I hear you have to wait for the mother to leave the nest, snatch them, then run like hell.

    She laughed as she washed down her own bite.  The laugh was shared by her SEC compatriot.

    Shayne: It’s the guy that tried it first that I want to meet, and then promptly incarcerate.

    Kano: I'm sure I saw a few eggs in the cargo bay I guess the chef could whip up a nice omelette if you fancy it?

    Collins: Well, in any case, if I never hear the words "spider" and "bird" in conjunction again, it would be far too bloody soon...

    Oh? Now that was a shame. When cleaning the cobwebs from the Jefferies Tubes, Kettick had noted that they were even lighter and stronger than the ones he could produce, and had considered asking Science to analyze and replicate them for engineering use.
    Oh, well, he could always set up a hatchery with the eggs he hadn't yet disposed of and harvest the webbing the old-fashioned way, he supposed.

    Collins: My immense compliments to the chef.

    Oddas: Indeed.

    Kano: Absolutely.

    Kettick nodded enthusiastically before taking a mouthful of his hasperat. The high salt content instantly made him feel like his mouth had grown a size too small, and he reached for his glass to wash it down. In front of him, others were using various drinks to do the same, so perhaps it was a normal reaction. He certainly hoped so; he was far too aware of the immense kindness the Captain did them by offering her table to offend her.

    Oddas: Just because I'm going to be stuck on the ship doesn't mean you need to be, any plans for doing something fun?

    The other officers looked at one another.

    Shayne: Far too much going on for me to risk it at the moment, captain.
    Kettick: We still need to get our Eagle back into shape, and to welcome a new Chief. But I have several potential improvements to our systems test out. :: Feeling bold once of a sudden, he went for an attempt at a joke. :: The perks of partially dismantling our ship every now and then.

    Collins: I, uh, actually have a Holodeck reserved tomorrow for a...erm...project I've been working on, but what about you, Risha? Any big plans? ::he said with almost a frantic energy::

    The Bajoran seemed taken aback by the direct question.

    Kano: ::She swallowed her mouthful.:: Nothing exciting, although if you're thinking about karaoke again, there's some new arrivals that could enjoy it.

    His interlocutor smiled pleasantly.

    Collins: You know, that's not a bad idea actually. I could force a whole new class of recruits to hear me warble. It could be a killer rite of passage.

    The Lieutenant laughed at the thought of that.

    Kano: I would have thought the rite of passage for the Eagle would be not getting blown up on your first mission.

    Kettick: :: Nodding nodded with a wry smile; he was feeling like he was getting better at it :: It's not that hard. Apparently Starfleet Engineering's defensive design is advanced enough to withstand voluntary warp core destabilization and phaser shots through EPS conduits.
    Oddas/Shayne: Response

    Collins: As long as nobody tries to report to the wrong blonde Bajoran on the Bridge like I did on MY first day, I will be happy.

    Kano: Response

    Collins: Yes, I absolutely did that. The Captain and Commander Shayne can tell you all about it. This rube from Maine comes bumbling onto a Bridge and SALUTES the wrong officer. I thought I was going to evaporate, truly.

    Oddas/Shayne: Response

    He motioned with his bottle in a playful manner.
    Collins: See, they have to say that because I'm not eligible for transfer yet. Once I am though, watch, they are going to ship me away quicksmart, just to save me and themselves from further embarrassment and shame...
    The case of mistaken identity reminded Kettick of a minor event of his first day. Very minor, considering that the ship was otherwise under attack and without power, but still.
    Kettick: On a similar vein, Captain, is there any reason why you insist on "sir"?
    Oddas: Response
    Any: Response
    Kettick: I see. I suppose Betazoids face the same issue, coming from a matriarcal society as well. Or does telepathy make them less prone to social [...] pas?
    Any: Response
    Oddas: Response
    His circulatory liquid was coulourless, but that's all that stopped Kettick from blushing.
    Kettick: Well, if we are to share embarrassing moments from our first day,  I *did* call you "my Queen" on the bridge, if memory serves.

    Ensign Kettick
    Engineering Officer
    USS Eagle
    • Like 2

  12. About two years ago, I had the distinct pleasure to play a game with a number of my friends from the fleet. Though I’d played the game for a number of years, it was the first time I’d actually done it as a group. I had so much fun that it still rings in my mind today, and I long to try it again. The game, as you might have guessed from my oh-so-witty title, was Star Trek Online, a free-to-play MMORG set in a truly chaotic version of our beloved fictional universe. One of the most space combat simulators I’ve come across, STO permits people from around the world to easily find each other, and enjoy some battle together.

    Some of you may have seen the hilarity that ensues when a number of our group participate in a round or two of Bridge Crew, and I’d like to see how viable that idea is in regards to STO. We have a fleet, but because there’s been little success in getting a solid presence in game, it hasn’t made much progress. So! With that in mind, this week’s Poll asks you for your opinion on Star Trek Online! Have you played it and enjoyed it? Never heard of it? Not a fan? Give us your thoughts in the poll here, and don’t forget to leave a comment! 

    • Like 1
  13. Prequels are a sensitive subject in many television and literary communities. While some believe them to be generally interesting, positive ideas, the sudden abundance of stories-before-stories has others taking a more cynical viewpoint. Whatever your stance on this issue, it’s difficult to deny that the Star Trek captains we know and love have had very interesting histories, oftentimes touched on in their respective shows in interesting ways. Kirk’s days at the Academy and his time on the Farragut and Republic had profound effects on his decisions and character years later. Picard’s early command of the Valiant and his background in archaeology have been touched on in novels, and might yield an interesting dive into how he became the man known more commonly to fans. Archer’s time as a test pilot during the race to Warp 5, and the resulting tensions and issues with the Vulcan people, might well be a fascinating examination of how Earth grew and changed from war-ravaged hell to peaceful utopia. This week’s poll asks which captain you’d most like to see a prequel series focus on. Give us your vote here, and don’t forget to leave a comment! 

  14. Across the world, humans recently took various and generally well-meant oaths to improve themselves in some way or another. These resolutions follow an ancient tradition generally attributed to the Babylonian civilization of some four thousand years ago. Since then, countless resolutions have been started, to varying levels of success. 

    Most alien characters in Star Trek follow their people’s teachings, faith and customs to some extent, but given the nondenominational nature of this particular tradition, it doesn’t seem too much of a stretch to think that individuals of any race might find it somewhat appealing. 

    Does your character have a new year’s resolution? Give us your response below, and don’t forget to leave a comment! 

    • Like 1
  15. While many people in the world who celebrate Christmas do so with an active spiritual or religious component, a good number do not. Some have their own traditions, or prefer to approach the holidays from a more familial and traditional standpoint. The only thing more ubiquitous than celebrations on December 25th is the variety of ways in which this is accomplished. 

    This got me thinking; if humans can choose to observe how they observe Christmas, how would alien species feel about the whole affair? More specifically for our purposes, how would your character approach the holiday? Would they be interested in immersing themselves in the festivities? Perhaps they’d be interested in observing from a distance. Maybe they’re simply not interested in it, or prefer not to involve themselves for spiritual reasons. 

    Would your character be interested in celebrating some aspect of Christmas? Give us your vote, and don’t forget to leave a comment! 

  16. Congratulations! You’ve got Beta shift free today. Good thing too- there’s supposed to be a concert aboard. You’re not sure who will be playing, or what they’ll play, but you can hold your hopes high. If you entered the concert hall, and watched the performer(s) of the evening step onto the stage, who would you be most excited for? Would Data and his violin interest you? Perhaps Harry Kim and his clarinet would earn your applause? Maybe Spock and his famous Vulcan lyre would soothe the nerves of a challenging day? Could Uhura’s famous vocals do the job? 

    What Starfleet officer’s concert would you most enjoy attending? Click here to submit your vote, and don’t forget to leave a comment! 

  17. Best Animal to Crossbreed with a Tribble? 


    They’re after you! You duck and dodge through the cave system that is your lair, desperate to get to your lab. Once you’re there, you will be safe. But they’re catching up- those confounded Starfleet security people! Why did they care about what you did? Who were they to tell you that your scientific pursuits were illegal? And what did you care about a broken treaty or two? You are on the cusp of greatness! 

    At last, the neutronium-laced door seals behind you, and you can complete your experimentation intact. You pour the last vial of green, bubbling goop into the vat, wait for the concoction to boil, and then take a single animal of your choice, along with a purring tribble, and throw them in. What comes out is up to you… 

    This week’s question asks you which Terran animal you’d like to see crossed with a tribble! Give us your vote and let us know your choices in the comments below! 

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