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Rustyy_Hael last won the day on February 16

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About Rustyy_Hael

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    I'm not crazy I swaer, I was just born in the wrong time
  • Birthday March 27

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  1. (( CO's Office - StarBase 118 )) :: It had been another uneventful morning in the Operations Tower Hub. That was, until Theo had been alerted to the distress call from the civilian cruise liner Meridia. He had braced himself for an emergency situation, but had pleasantly surprised- and amused- by the fact that the vessel's engines had shut down because of targ urine. He had had to stifle a chuckle, but had allowed himself a grin at the news. Now the Meridia was safely ensconced in the cradle of the station's docking bays, where Rusty Hael's engineering teams were busy repairing the damage. For once, Theo was privately relieved he was no longer an engineer. He did not envy those unfortunate officers who were now draining targ urine from every square inch of the Meridia's warp drive. Theo left it an hour or so before he ascended from lowest level to the door of Captain Taybrim's office. He rang the doorchime and the door opened a moment later. Poking his head around the doorframe. Seated behind his desk was Sal Taybrim, waving him in.:: Taybrim: Theo! Just the person I was hoping to see! :: Whittaker: Have you heard the news? :: with an unabashed grin. :: It was targ urine. How on earth... :: he trailed off into a snicker. :: ::Sal nodded, leaning forward.:: Taybrim: I did just speak with Captain Doreln. She was mortified to find out the cause. I get the feeling that her transition from moving freight around to taking a command where the vast majority of the people onboard are arrogant passengers has been a difficult one. Whittaker: I think I can relate. :: not the first time, he was reminded of the vast difference :: beat :: I hear that the Captain invited us for dinner aboard the Meridia this evening as a show of gratitude? ::Sal nodded an assent.:: Taybrim: I already accepted her invitation. That's where you come in ::his dark eyes sparkled:: I promised her that I wouldn't be the only guest. I need you to wrangle the senior staff - get them to come to dinner tonight. Whittaker: That shouldn't be a problem. Although I hope that this dinner will be better than the last one we attended. :: he made a motion with his fingers indicated himself and Sal, while also recalling the misadventure almost two years before, a relic of which lay cooing quietly in a habitat near the Captain's desk. Taybrim: She told me dress nicely. I'm not quite sure what that means, but it is a fancy dinner on a very impressive cruise liner, so perhaps encourage everyone to wear whatever finery they feel most comfortable in. :: For the first time since Theo stepped foot into Sal's private sanctum, his smile wavered. To many Starfleet officers 'finery' meant dress uniforms, and he was no fan of the white monstrosity that the service made it's officers and enlisted personnel wear. He visibly blanched at the idea. :: Whittaker: :: with a note of despair. :: Dress uniforms? Taybrim: ::He chuckled evenly:: Oh goodness, no! No dress whites. Just... nice dress. :: Relieved, the smile returned to Theo's face. A formal dinner without that hated uniform was an idea that he could get behind. He nodded eagerly. :: Whittaker: I think I can arrange that. Do you have any idea what you will be wearing? :: he asked, as he mentally decided on the ruby red suit he had brought several weeks previously. He had been looking for an excuse to wear it. :: Taybrim: ::He shook his head:: I'm sure you have better fashion sense than I do. ::He leaned forward and spoke in a nearly conspiratorial tone:: I actually like dress whites because I don't have to think about what to wear. Whittaker: :: with a raised eyebrow. :: You are a strange, strange man, Sal Taybrim. :: a chuckle. :: What time is dinner? Taybrim: ? Whittaker: Understood. I'll have everybody dripping with opulence. Taybrim: ? (( Time Jump )) (( Executive Officer's Office - Starbase 118 )) (( Twenty Five Minutes Later )) :: It had not taken Theo long to finish composing the memorandum to the senior staff and nor had he found it particularly taxing. He had had to alter some of the Beta and Gamma Shift duty rosters to ensure that every members of the Operations Tower's senior staff could attend- again not a difficult endeavour. He was sat behind his desk, checking the wording of the message he was about to send out and sipping leisurely from a hot cup of black, gingerbread-flavoured coffee. :: To: Operations Tower Senior Staff From: Commander Theo Whittaker, Executive Officer, Starbase 118 Operations Tower Subject: Formal Dinner This Evening. You are cordially invited to a formal dinner aboard the starliner Meridia this evening at 1900 Hours, Local Station Time. This is a show of gratitude from Captain Doreln for our quick response to her distress call. Attendance is mandatory, although you are not required to wear dress uniforms. Please arrive promptly and dressed appropriately. Any dietary requirements must be passed on to the Meridia's head of catering no later than 1600 Hours. Bring your best smile! :: Smiling at the last comment, he was satisfied he had not missed any important detail and thus, he sent the message. Sitting back in his chair, he hoped the night would pass without a major incident. The last thing he wanted was for a repeat of last year's tribble convention. oO I hope Sal keeps a lock on Moby's habitat. Oo he thought with a snicker. :: (( Time Jump )) (( Meridia's Berth - Starbase 118 Main Hangar Bay )) (( Time Index: 1855 Hours, Local Station Time )) :: Theo caught sight of his reflection in the transparent aluminium window and- not for the first time since donning his suit- checked himself over. The suit fit perfectly and his hair was laid perfectly. A good job since there was enough product in it for five people. He had swept his fringe to one side in a prepatory style. The stubble he had allowed to grow into a quasi-beard had all been shaved away thanks to a last minute trip to a barber shop in the Commercial Sector's San Francisco District. He had gone back and forth about whether to keep the stubble or not, reasoning that without it, he looked like a 16 year old boy- not exactly something he wanted to project given his position in the station's command structure. In the end, however, he could not deny that he looked smarter without it and so he had had it removed. oO I'll just have to look like I'm too young for the academy. Oo. He nodded approvingly at his reflection, touching his hair for good measure. oO I look good! Oo he thought to himself. Turning to the gangway that led from the departure lounge and towards the Meridia, he realised that he was not the first to arrive. A moment later, it dawned on him that they had seen his display of vanity a moment ago. He could feel the heat in his cheeks as they turned red with embarrasment. :: Whittaker: E-evening! Did you see that just now? :: he jerked a thumb to the transparent aluminum. Aitas: It is my job to be observant, sir. Whittaker: I don't do that all the time, I really don't. oO Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP! Oo. Aitas: ::still smiling:: You look good, sir. I find myself feeling as if I didn't have quite enough to properly prepare. -- Commander Theo Whittaker Executive Officer Starbase 118 Operations / USS Columbia C239203TW0
  2. ((Science Department - Deck 506 - Starbase 118)) ((Morning after Bomba’s Arrival)) ::Taelon jogged back up the hall to his office, lip bitten. The days since the briefing hadn’t been good ones, and now that Bomba had arrived, things were...well, they hadn’t unraveled yet, but it felt like everyone was waiting for the pin to drop. Taelon tried to stay focused on his task - unraveling the virus that had all but disabled the station. After a sleepless night, he had the answer. Or so he hoped. He crossed to his desk, reaching for the PADD he needed. It was only when he went to pick it up and movement skittered that he saw the spider sitting on top of it. It was fist-sized, a neon blue and yellow, and very hairy. Taelon squeaked and flicked the PADD, sending the spider tumbling to the deck, where it scrambled away towards….more. There were two others on his desk, one halfway into his empty coffee cup and another inspecting what was left of a piece of chicken. He stared, backing away, and looked up - Seconds later he burst back into the hallway, fist hitting the wall communicator so hard the ‘thunk’ was picked up on the microphone.:: Taelon: PEPPER! ::It wasn’t an angry yell, not exactly. More of a shriek, really. He didn’t have to say anything else - the distant thrum of conversation from the atrium paused, and took on a slightly shriller quality. They all knew what that name being yelled like that meant. People would be checking under their desks and inside drawers for days. Taelon’s breath was slowing when the befreckled Ensign finally approached. He stared at her with slightly wild eyes.:: Taelon: Your, your queen thing is in my air vent. Along with - with - lots of other ones. Everywhere. O’Grady: They’re looking for a nesting place. ::she said brightly.:: Their habitat wasn’t large enough, so they must have thought the air ducts would be more suitable ::she covered her mouth and giggled.:: Silly things, finding such places more hospitable. ::giddily.:: But finally! ::she clapped her hands together.:: We’ve been waiting weeks for this! Taelon: That’s...wonderful, Pepper. ::He restrained a tired sigh.:: Unfortunately my office isn’t - isn’t the best place for a nursery of...of things. O’Grady: The spiders? Taelon: Spiders, right. I - I have a lot of things to do right now - ::He waved the PADD he’d grabbed, realizing as he raised it it has blue spider hair on it:: A-and I need my office more than they do. O’Grady: Do you need it right away? ::she pressed with a hopeful smile.:: Just another day at most - ::Taelon ran a hand over his face, not noticing the man bouncing down the hallway towards them.:: Taelon: I, they need to go, okay? B-back to the lab. And stay there. I’ve got to get this to the Captain - I’ll find someone to help you - ::It was then he saw Bomba over Pepper’s shoulder, and the face meant nothing. He was young and looked enthusiastic; Taelon made a snap judgement, rubbing the spider hair off the PADD.:: Taelon: Um, Ensign - ::He raised a hand to stop Bomba.:: Help O’Grady do...whatever it is she does, will you? I have to take this to the Captain. O’Grady: I’ll be right back - Bomba: Who am I helping and why? ::He didn't want to do... whatever little science ensigns did. probably something smelly. Science was smelly.:: And shouldn't that go to Captain Bomba? Taelon: No, Tayb- ::It was at that point eyes and brain caught up and exchanged notes. Taelon turned red and froze, staring at Bomba like he’d teleported in covered in glitter. Or spiders, as the case might be.:: O’Grady: ::she looked at Taelon.:: Sir, are you alright? Bomba: ::he cleared his throat and took on his 'commanding tone' which was a sharp, harsh tone.:: Ambassador Taybrim doesn't need to see any reports. I'll take that. Captain Storm Bomba, in case you missed it. ::Taelon’s reply was a sound rather like ‘guh’.:: TBC/TAG ______________________ Lieutenant Taelon Chief Science Officer Starbase 118 OPs O239303T10
  3. ((Main Sickbay - StarBase 118 Ops)) ::Mirra had been pacing her office. She'd just received a message from Theo that Captain Bomba had arrived...and was on his way to Sickbay. Her emotions were all over the place and she needed to get centered. She had to smile, and play nice doctor and show the Council's glorified mouthpiece that the rumors about her were entirely false. Well...most of them anyways. It was only a matter of time before her mouth got in the way. If only they could have had more notice, at least one day to absorb the news. She took a few deep breaths, reminding herself to be thankful that they had any warning at all. Her outburst had been mainly contained to the briefing room. There may have been a coffee mug on her desk that met it's end against the back paneling of her wall...but that was entirely coincidental. Sitting in her chair, she stared at the photo on her desk, a picture of Theo, Tatash, Flynn and Mirra, the former Columbia crew mates reunited once again on Ops. Flynn and Mirra were still wearing those ridiculous Hawaiian shirts in the photo. Smiling, she took the picture off her desk and held it in her hands. Almost every one she cared about most in the universe was aboard this station. In that, she was very lucky. Once Flynn returned, they'd have to recreate the photo, this time with Theo's Command pips on display. Her smile widened as she thought back on the briefing, after the news was delivered.:: (((Flashback - Briefing Room 2 - Starbase 118 Operations Tower ))) (( Time Index: Approximately 1130 Hours, Local Station Time )) ::So many changes in such a short span of time. Mirra had been biting hard on her cheek to stem the flow of tears, once she started, she had a strong suspicion she would be unable to stop. She fought hard against them, and won, although her eyes remained glassy. She was so incredibly proud of Theo, but could read it in his face he wasn't celebrating this promotion as he should be. Once she was able, she made a direct line to him and placed both of her hands on his shoulders, looking him directly in the eye.:: Ezo: ::quietly:: Don't. Not for a moment. ::smiling softly:: I know where your head is at, ::smirking:: without telepathy. You deserve this Commander Theo Whittaker. Don't let our current situation taint this. ::she squeezed his shoulders gently:: Now, I have to get to Sickbay as I have patients waiting, so I don't have time for you to try and argue with me. ::grinning:: That, and I'll start crying any moment now, so just take my word for it. Whittaker: Response? (If any) (((End Flashback))) Bomba: Hello? Hello! I'm look for Doctor Ezo! ::he smiled widely at a likely suspect.:: ::Mirra winced, involuntarily. Pulled back to the present and the previous positive mood she'd manage to salvage crumbled as the continued shouts of her her name meant she had a visitor. A rather unwelcome one. oO Time to play nice...I will not punch another member of command, I will not punch another member of command...Oo. Setting back down the picture on her desk, she walked out of her office into the main area.:: Ezo: ::tight smile:: And you have found her. ::dipping her head in greeting.:: Bomba: Ah, yes. Pleased to meet you. I'm Captain Storm Bomba, your new Commanding officer. ::he was so pleased with himself about that. He stepped forward, offering a hand.:: ::She managed to stifle a grimace just in time. How very human of him. Most members of command recognized that most telepaths and empaths tended to shy away from direct contact, unless they themselves offered. Strike one...::Ezo: ::evenly:: Captain Bomba. I trust your journey was well? ::Mirra had accepted his handshake, but was caught off guard as he pulled her forward, almost too forward. oO Didn't think I was supposed to be giving you a dental exam...Strike two...Oo debating if it would be rude to step back a bit, she just powered through. His only saving grace was that he'd at least let go of her hand.::Bomba: I just met with Commander Whittaker. Charming boy, really. He suggested I come straightaway and get my medical exam finished before I head up to the hub and get started with turning this station around!::Her eyes narrowed a fraction. He'd just sailed clear through "Strike three" and was rounding about strike five or six at this point. He'd referred to Theo as "boy", and didn't take a moment to consider how his comment about turning the station around could be taken. If, he had taken a moment to assess the situation, he would have no doubt realized his error. But he didn't. He just kept on going.:: Ezo: ::stiffening slightly:: Ah yes...the station has had a rather...jarring bit of change already. If I may, I suggest a bit of caution in that area. Bomba: Well, I mean, I'm sure everything will be fine in a day or so. Big changes are tough, but think positive! ::He smiled. The smile was genuine. He was utterly convinced that everyone would come around and love him in a few days.:: ::She didn't hit him. Score one for Mirra. She gave him a tight smile and turned quickly, gesturing for him to follow her. It took her a moment to school her features back to polite. He came across as excited, not necessarily arrogant. He wasn't mocking or taunting, he was just...slightly tone deaf. So wrapped up in what she was sure he considered a personal triumph, that he failed to take a moment and appreciate the tense situation he had walked into. She rubbed her temples in slight agitation. Reaching the first available exam room, she held her hand out for him to proceed in front of her.:: Ezo: I certainly don't want to keep you. We'll just get the exam finished....swiftly. Bomba: Yes, well, the medical exam. I have always kept my health check ups up to date. ::He flexed his muscles a little - and truth be told he did have an attractive physique. Though it was rendered less attractive when he tried to call attention to it.:: ::He was flexing for her. Proudly. It took all of her willpower not to slap her forehead and groan. Instead, she fixed him with a brittle "Good for you!" smile reserved for when a toddler ruined the brand new furniture with his masterpiece of fingerpaints.:: Ezo: Well...we can just check that right off the list. ::clearing her throat slightly, professional mode activated:: So, other than the...physical fitness, is there anything you feel I should know about? Allergies? Existing Medical conditions? oO Anything that will provide me a way to declare you unfit for duty...? Oo Bomba: Oh, no. I'm the perfect specimen of health. I'm sure my last medical scan can be uploaded from the Avalon to compare against ::Of course it wouldn't be that easy. He was young and fit, a practical poster boy. The Council had bestowed upon him a job that would make that shiny hair streaked with grey from stress, and he had absolutely no idea. A small part of her heart twinged with sorrow for the man. He clearly had no idea what he was in for.:: Ezo: That is good to know. ::updating some information in the PADD:: As I am sure you are aware, the station just passed through a very major Ion storm. There was a concern about the potential damages of residual radiation, my staff and I have been doing regular sweeps and so far there hasn't been any incidents. Were you provided with the Theta booster prior to your arrival? ::No one could ever accuse her of being bad at her job. She may not like the situation, but she was never going to willingly allow someone to be exposed to potential danger.:: Bomba: Oh, no... it wasn't mentioned. ::He gave her a bit of an upnod as if to say 'good catch.':: Ezo: ::nodding slightly:: Understandable. I'm going to give you the booster just to be extra cautious, ::stepping away for a moment, she returned with a loaded hypo, administering the vaccine in one swift motion.:: I need you to report to me immediately if you experience any sudden intense headaches or nausea. Oh, ::with a "silly me" expression:: And if you began bleeding from your gums, or discover any facial lesions, I want to be the first to know. We've had the intensive care unit refitted to support radiation poisoning. ::They had, three weeks ago. In preparation for the storm. And not a single person got so much as a headache during or after the storm. But, if her slightly embellished warning made that ridiculously buoyant attitude of his slip down a peg, than the little white lie had done it's job. This wasn't a pleasure cruise catapulting him into higher command. And he'd better realize that.:: Bomba: Bleeding from my gums? ::His blue eyes bulged just a little:: Well.. I do so hope you have already cleansed the area. But, I'll... keep watch, just in case. Ezo: ::smiling sweetly, with a slight shrug:: Perils of the job, but I am sure you have nothing to worry about. ::smirking slightly:: Welcome to Starbase 118, Captain. Bomba: Well, I thank you for the welcome and the kind care Miss Ezo. ::He leaned forward again to touch her and looked a bit dismayed when she scooted off.:: Well... I best be heading to the hub, lots to do today! ---------------------------------------------- Lt. Commander Mirra Ezo, MDChief Medical Officer Starbase 118 OpsC239205ME0
  4. ((Little Risa - Mirra and Flynn’s beach house)) ::Something had been bothering Mirra since they returned from the mission. Well, to be fair, after a mission such as that, lots of things would be bothering her. But this wasn’t about the mission. It was about the Captain…she had been well aware of his damaged telepathy, it wasn’t news. But it had been on her mind ever since he reached out to her telepathically in the Thirsty dog. When she took the time to sit down and think about it, she realized it wasn’t an issue with the Captain at all...it was her. She was desperately homesick. Coupled with the offhand, and entirely innocent comment made by Theo in his panicked realization she was onto his crush, it had settled further in. So, that was why, at this very moment, she was in the kitchen of the Little Risa beach house she shared with Flynn, putting the finishing touches on the meal of Raixen, her own mother’s recipe. She’d sent the very informal invitation to dinner, and had been quite pleased when he accepted. Just as soon as she plated the noodles, she heard the telltale sound of footsteps.:: Ezo: ~I’m in the kitchen!~ Taybrim: Hello? ::He stopped, realizing that the voice was in his head and just a tinge of embarrassment followed. He had just gotten so used to speaking all the time that he defaulted to it - even though it wasn’t the way of his people. Well, good thing no one could see him blush - though empathy could certainly feel the flush of embarrassment:: ~Hello! I’m hope I’m not late.~ Ezo ::Turning with a grin, she had both plates in each arm, giving a little head nod in greeting.:: ~Thank you for coming, I hope you’re hungry, my mother’s recipe makes enough for an invading army…~ ::Sal lifted his head and sniffed the air a bit. Ahh, that was a familiar scent. Raixen, if he wasn’t mistaken - though the key aroma was vilne, a savory spice that was a favorite in the lowlands.:: Taybrim: ~As all good Raixen recipes should~ ::She gestured with her head towards the back door, walking with bare feet across the kitchen and carefully sliding the glass door open with her foot before stepping through out on the back patio. The circular fire pit was already lit, casting shadows lazily around the deck furniture:: Ezo ~I thought we’d eat out here, by the fire tonight.~ ::turning her head, she smirked playfully:: ~ although I decided for forgo the dinner chime…~ ::A calm breeze blew through the deck, dancing the flames lightly. Ahh, the blissful late day sun in little Risa. Sal stretched a little, removing his own shoes and letting his arms stretch out in the loose Betazoid robes. If he closed his eyes he could almost pretend he was home for a moment.:: Taybrim: ~That’s OK. I think my own family only used the chime for formal dinners and holidays.~ ::Which was not uncommon among the middle and lower classes - well, those who were descended from such. Wealth hadn’t been a hardship on Betazed for decades if not centuries. But traditions were still passed down.:: Ezo: ::snickering slightly:: ~Pretty sure my family only took it out of its dusty old box when my great aunt came for dinner.~ ::Mirra’s family was unique in the sense they weren’t steeped in tradition. They respected it, honored it, but weren't necessarily concerned with it. Considering she and her brother weren't bound in arranged marriages, they were something of an anomaly.:: Taybrim: ::He offered her a smile, something that blossomed past the expression and into a feeling, a wellspring of empathy:: ~I deeply appreciate the invitation. It has been too long since I have partaken in a traditional sit down meal.~ ::a pause and a hint of humor entered his mind:: ~Lunches at the Illogical Eatery don’t count!~ Ezo: ::smiling softly, she bowed her head slightly.:: ~Of course. To be honest, I am surprised it has taken us this long to share a meal together.~ ::grinning:: ~pastries aside.~ ::Plates now arranged, she held her hands up in a slight “Tada!” Flourish. Gesturing towards the vacant seat beside her, she settled into the slightly overstuffed cushion of the patio lounger.:: Ezo: ~Please, dig in. I hope it is a pleasant reminder of home…::smirking:: and not a reminder of your previous dinner companion.~ ::She of course, was referring to Wannis. That woman was enough to make someone a monk. Praying to the Gods for blindness.:: Taybrim: ::Sal shivered at the thought - both a physical and a mental shiver. He absolutely hated being a judgemental person, but he had found with Wannis that there truly were people in the universe who could make one’s skin crawl.:: ~This is vastly preferably company to my last dinner. And by vastly I mean the difference between a sunbathing holiday on Risa versus one on Rura Penthe.~ ::His dark eyes sparkled with mirth:: ~This washes away the memories of the other in the best way.~ ::With a mouth full of food, she enjoyed the telepathic advantage of “talking” with one’s mouth full.:: Ezo: ~Well, my motives were entirely selfish. I hadn't realized how much I missed...well...this. Not having to “shield up” constantly. Having a casual conversation without the inevitable discomfort over an errant thought I wasn’t even listening to anyways.~ ::sighing heavily:: ~The amount of patients I have fidgeting, worrying that I’ll dig through their minds, being overly paranoid, thus making me overly paranoid. It’s exhausting.~ ::He blinked a little at that, understanding that paranoia. His own experiences had been somewhat muted - whether it was the perception that Betazoid women were more forceful than Betazoid men (which was true for some families) or whether he had washed most of his experiences prior to damaging his telepathy away with old memories was unclear. What Sal did remember keenly was how much his ill-fated betrothed struggled to keep her own shields up and how constantly exhausted she seemed. He had a deep empathy for that.:: Taybrim: ~It is.~ ::He agreed quietly:: ~And frustrating.~ ::Oh yes, he was starting to remember now. Talking to some people was like pulling teeth - especially when one was wearing a teal collar.:: Ezo: ::grinning:: ~That...and you, dear sir, are terribly out of practice.~ ::She nudged him lightly with her leg. Intending to soften the harsh observation. He was, in fact, out of practice. But it was entirely understandable, and not meant as an insult. They both could benefit from a little “homeworld” bonding.:: Taybrim: ::He looked up and shot her an amusedly admonishing glance:: ~I suppose for a long time I had no one to practice with. I can’t pick up any surface thoughts of those who are not either telepathically keen - or Betazed - anymore.~ ::He paused, looking off towards the skyline while contemplating the complex flavors of the meal before adding.:: ~I suppose I might be able to read them if I dug - but no one would want to test that, most of all me.~ Ezo: ::Smiling brightly:: ~You could always make Theo volunteer for it. For the sake of medicinal science.~ ::snickering, she could imagine the look of abject horror on his face should it ever be suggested.:: ~I bet his head is filled with engineering schematics and perfecting cosmopolitan recipes....~ Taybrim: ::He leaned forward again, offering a bit more of an open mind, a quiet calm to allay worry.:: ~Sometimes the world feels quiet. Usually it simply feels placid. Maybe that’s just me putting a positive spin on things.~ Ezo: ::smiling softly. Her heart twinged in mild sorrow. Telepathy was as natural a sense for Betazoid as much as sight:: ~I think that is a brilliant outlook.~ ::It was hard to describe what it was like to have one’s telepathy dampened. Sal supposed it was equally hard to describe to someone who could hear what it would be like to start going deaf. Well, maybe that was a good description.:: Taybrim: ~Have you ever worked with a patient who was blind? Someone who used their other senses to compensate? Perhaps their sense of hearing was sharpened or their sense of touch was refined so they could read with their fingertips? I did that with my empathic senses. I compensate for the loss of one with a sharpening of the other.~ Ezo: ::having finished her meal, she set her fork down, and leaned back, folding her legs beneath her.::~Actually yes, but not with sight. A little girl. I met her during my internship. Got a nasty infection, but didn't get medical attention in time, damage was too severe, lost her hearing as a result. But, she made up for it with her other senses. After time, she became so intune with her sense of touch, she could “hear” basic speech patterns. ::gazing into the fire in marvel:: miraculous thing, the body. Dull one sense, and often, the others will adapt. ::smiling:: and no amount of medicine could replicate that.~ Taybrim: ~How true.~ ::He chewed his last bite in thought before lifting his fork in a salute to the hostess:: ~Life is a miraculous thing. All the better that we have a fantastic doctor to shepherd us~ ::he winked, but the thought was earnest as much as it was flattering.:: Ezo: ::a small amount of red tinged her cheeks:: ~Well, it would certainly be easier if people would stop keeping me on constant alert...blowing off their arms and such~ ::shrugging slightly:: ~Not that it was done purposefully...I hope…~ ::Sal’s brows knit. Oh, the crew and senior staff of StarBase 118 had certainly kept the StarBase 118 medical department - and it’s chief in particular - busy. He felt badly about that. Worry and regret tinged his thoughts like a clinging film.:: Taybrim: ~Agreed, I do not want to see a repeat of some of the dark things our crew had had to endure recently. I am hoping that we will see less and less of the Orion Syndicate from here on out.~ ::He paused and despite him trying to hold it back, one thought - one name still trickled through.:: ~Chennel…~ ::It was the first audible sound she made that night which wasn’t positive. A low growl slipped through her lips. Too late to prevent its escape. That woman. That...woman. She haunted Mirra’s darkest nightmares and fired her blood like no other.:: Ezo: ~Gods curse the day that horrible witch crawled out of the fires of hell. ::clenching her jaw:: I used to believe that evil was an abstract concept. Never once expecting to meet it in the flesh…~ Taybrim: I’m sorry. ::He spoke it. He paused and his neck flushed a deep pink. Not only had the first thought that spurred this torrent of negative emotion come unbidden to his thoughts, but his first reaction was to interact in a way that was uniquely not-Betazed. The backlash was to beat himself gently up for that, silently.:: ~She is truly wicked. And I am sorry. Not just for bringing it up, but that we have not yet apprehended her. It stays in my mind - and on our radar.~ ::Lame, Sal… lame… He trailed off in thought, watching her to gauge the reaction and where to go next.:: ::Releasing her tightly clenched jaw, Mirra cleared her throat awkwardly. The absolute definition of an “over reaction.” Well, wasn’t she about to win host of the year...:: Ezo: ::flushing slightly:: ~No, please. I’m sorry...I...guess...well? We have a bit of a complicated history. ::she grimaced. And shuddered:: ~She had...uh…”plans” for me? I never wished to be a non-telepath more in my entire life.~ ::she shook it off and clasped his hand in both of hers:: ~I know it bothers you. It bothers all of us. Personal history aside, she’s dangerous. Very dangerous.~ ::smiling with encouragement:: ~Never doubt for a second my belief that we will bring her to justice.~ ::He looked up, locking Mirra’s gaze for a moment. His thoughts slowly organized into ideas that were calm and controlled, focused.:: Taybrim: ~She hurt my crew. She hurt you. Theo. Flynn. Tatash. She continued hurting. The team that rescued Lady Shadonna. The team who tried to apprehend her. Half my senior staff or more she had hurt. I do not want to witness her hurting another person, ever again.~ ::He wanted to think ‘I will not’ - but he was the sort of person who did not make promises that he could not keep. Until they located Chennel and acted, everything was still in that frustrating realm of possibility.:: ::Like many times before, Mirra found herself gazing in awe, enraptured in Sal’s determined speech. She knew he meant every single word. Down the the marrow of his bones. This, this was her Captain.:: Ezo: ::beaming:: ~You are a fantastic Captain. Has anyone told you that recently?~ Taybrim: ::He flushed again, this time with a bit of unbidden embarrassment. Which wasn’t something he showed much. Usually the diplomat side of him took everything in stride. Then again there was an art to well timed drinks of water, turns or other stalling tactics to pass the moment and regain perfect composure. Still, his smiled:: ~That’s why they pay me the big salary~ ::he winked - as Starfleet officers there was functionally no salary, just some extra privileges.:: ~But I’m honored that you think so. In my defense, I have a fine crew - I would not ask for better.~ Ezo: ::she laughed heartily, happy for the injected humor to lighten the mood. Big salary indeed.:: ~You are not wrong. This crew is amazing.~ ::sitting up formally, crossing her arms and donning a serious face:: ~And that is my professional opinion.~ ::uncrossing her arms, she grinned:: ~I think it is time for dessert, what do you say to some molten, possibly soon to be sacrificed confections?~ Taybrim: ~Molten confections?~ ::Someone had once told him about a molten cake… Sal had thought that sounded dangerous. He was trying to remember who threatened him with the recipe now.:: ~Are these a traditional sweet…?~ ::Mirra leaned over the side of the wicker lounger, producing a bag of marshmallows. A nod to their bonfire activities on Raskor I, once the now retired Commodore Kinney had finally been removed from the playing board. She held them aloft with a childlike grin.:: Ezo: ~Marshmallows!~ Taybrim: ::Grinning wildly:: ~Oh yes! I’m good at burning those!~ ::a pause, he considered this:: ~They were tasty when crispy.~ Ezo: ::smirking, she reached back and produced two more bags:: ~I am very good at burning them...like, tiny sugary torches.~ ::she was admittedly terrible at this. But, it was ridiculously fun, so she replicated enough to hopefully get a chance to eat a few in the process:: ~I can repair a stripped aortic valve on a rickety escape pod, but apparently a marshmallow is my downfall…~ Taybrim: ~I blame the stick. You know, right tool for the job and all…~ Ezo: ::snickering slightly:: ~Thank you for humoring me. And your vote of ill placed confidence~ ::smiling brightly, and handing him a skewer:: ~Ready?~ Taybrim: ~Well, if it’s ill placed confidence on you, only know that I lack the same confidence in my own skills where marshmallows are concerned.~ ::He winked and stabbed a marshmallow on the spit:: ~I’m ready as I’ll ever be.~ ::Carefully the stick was held out to toast the edges:: ~Maybe if I’m very patient…~ Ezo: ::biting her lip, she watched the little sugar puff as if it were a live grenade:: ~Slowly…~ ::A tiny ‘whoof!’ and the Marshmallow caught flame. He waved it around, which only made the burning catch faster. Finally Sal blew it out, half the marshmallow was a crispy blackened color.:: Taybrim: ~Or maybe I just really, really like them partly black?~ Ezo: ::her skewer and marshmallow lay abandoned beside her as she was currently overcome by a fit of laughter.:: ~Or that.~ ::shrugging her shoulders:: ~Perhaps it’s not a Betazoid thing….? Black eyes and black marshmallows. That is what we shall claim anyhow.~ Taybrim: ~I think that’s a grand idea. It saves … face.~ ::He grinned, and ate the blackened marshmallow anyways.:: Ezo: ::grasping the skewer with renewed determination:: ~My turn…~ ::easing the stick carefully toward the flames, she cautiously scooted the stick closer, only to have it instantly ignite as if soaked in starship fuel. Yanking it back, she blew on the flaming marshmallow in a fruitless attempt of salvage. Glancing up she grinned before popping the blackened confection into her mouth.:: ~Yep. Totally not a Betazoid thing.~ ::he leaned forward, watching the process and chuckling as the final product looked extremely similar to his own.:: Taybrim: ~You know what? That’s a good story and I’m sticking to it.~ ::He grinned towards her:: ~Hey… ::He tapped the bag:: ~at least we have a lot of chances to practice.~ Ezo: ::shoving a second marshmallow to take the place of the destroyed first, she lightly tapped Sal’s skewer with her own in cheers:: ~To practice!~ Taybrim: ::a marshmallow toast:: ~To practice!~ ~*~ A JP by: Lt. Commander Mirra Ezo, MD Chief Medical Officer Starbase 118 Ops C239205ME0 And Captain Sal Taybrim Commanding Officer StarBase 118 Ops E239010ST0
  5. round 24 MSNPC Lazlo - Lost Luggage

    ((Dagorin VI - Underground Bunker)) :: Lazlo sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, and waited impatiently for word from Urian and Gaixor. Their last transmission indicated an encounter with Starfleet, and he was anxious to know if they'd been able to deal with the intruders. :: Peon: Mister Lazlo, sir! :: Lazlo spun his seat around, his face a combination of anger at the interruption and relief for a distraction. He eyed the short human. The man's skin looked pale and clammy, and he held the handle of a large metal case resting on the floor. :: Lazlo: What is it? Peon: Sir, I brought the package you were expecting. :: Lazlo shot out of the chair and hoisted the case easily in one hand. :: oO The delivery didn't even register on sensors. Looks like Brenda did well this time. Oo Peon: ::swaying slightly:: On the way back I was bitten by some kind of weird rabbit thing, sir. :: Lazlo was faintly aware of some kind of buzzing behind him, but his attention was focused on the case. He nodded absently in vague acknowledgement. :: Lazlo: Mm hmm. :: The human looked at the bite marks on his arm, showing angry red with black lines beginning to spider outward. :: Peon: I think it might be infected. Lazlo: Good, good. Peon: I'd like to visit the sick bay, sir. Lazlo: Glad to hear it. :: The man shuffled off unnoticed while Lazlo popped the clasps on the case. His anticipatory smile became a frown when he looked inside. :: ((short timeskip)) Brenda: Totally Legit Business secret lair, how can I...oh, Mister Lazlo! I've been working on my greeting, do you like it? Lazlo: ::scowling into the communications terminal:: Brenda. Brenda: Yes sir? Lazlo: About the clothes you sent me. Brenda: I sent you the warmest looking thing in your office. Is something wrong? :: In response Lazlo silently held the open case up to the screen. :: Brenda: Oh. That's...not what I took from your office. Lazlo: It certainly is not. Where are my clothes, Brenda? Brenda: I, uh...there must have been some kind of mix-up. (( Risa, Taiz Resort, Diva Suite )) :: D'ghash wouldn't normally wear make-up, but tonight was a special case. Tonight the Klingon woman would accompany Lassk, a member of Saurian royalty, to a one-night-only performance of Saurian opera. Lassk, she had come to find, had very specific tastes when it came to his companions, and D'ghash would have to meet his expectations if she hoped to get close enough to carry out her mission. Now she sat on the bench in front of her room's vanity mirror, rolling her eyes as her date pounded on the door for what had to be the tenth time. :: Lassk: Are you almost ready my dear? D'ghash: Almost! You'll just have to be patient! :: She pursed her lips in disgust at the thought of hanging on the lizard man's arm all night. At least this would be the last time she'd ever have to see him. :: Lassk: Hurry, my darling! The anticipation is killing me! D'ghash: ::chuckling:: oO If you only knew. Oo :: Her makeup perfect, she stood from the table and crossed the room to the garment case on her bed. She carefully opened it and frowned in confusion, lifting the clothing up to examine it. This was certainly not what she had requested. She cursed silently. It was too late to find something else to wear, and if Lassk was displeased it could jeopardize the entire operation. Again came the pounding. :: Laask: I simply cannot wait any longer! I'm coming in! :: D'ghash was out of options. She quickly donned the garment from the case. As the door opened she spun to face Laask wearing a heavy dark-green knit sweater with "REPTILIANS DO IT IN COLD BLOOD" emblazoned across the front in white letters. Laask stopped in his tracks and regarded D'ghash with a slack-jawed stare. :: Laask: Oh, my. How.... :: Just as the Klingon started to think the night was ruined, Laask's mouth curled into a lascivious grin. :: Laask: ...provocative! ((Dagorin VI - Underground Bunker)) Brenda: ::smiling cheerfully:: On the bright side, that should keep you nice and warm! Lazlo: Yes. This and my incandescent rage will keep me warm. Brenda: Good! Is there anything else I can help you with? :: Lazlo sat in silence for long seconds, his left eye twitching noticeably. :: Lazlo: No, Brenda. Brenda: Ok, call if you need anything else! :: Lazlo sat perfectly still save for his twitching eye for several minutes after the screen went blank. :: MSNPC Lazlo Orion Syndicate Overseer Lieutenant Jerome Milsap Assistant Chief Medical Officer USS Constitution-B C239208JM01
  6. ((Main Sickbay - USS Constitution-B)) ::The readings were going from 'dead' to 'mostly OK' - this was a good thing. A very good thing. On the other hand, Wyn Foster's body was going from 'fueled by drugs and adrenaline' to 'worst hangover he could remember in a very long time' at warp nine. So when he spoke, it was with a soft lisping drawl that almost made him sound like a true Andorian. Almost.:: Foster: Hey, hey... I think everything's OK. Let's calm down. Everybody good, everybody alive? James: I think he's back with us now...for a while there, Nate, you wuzn't.... ::He fixed his sapphire eyes on Nate, turning serious. Wyn hated playing with life and death. For some reason the miracles of modern medicine seemed to make most people downplay the seriousness of what went on under the biobed monitor.:: Foster: Seven seconds of flatline, Nate. And I've played the game of getting oxygen to the brain before brain damage occurs. I wasn't going to play it again! ::The human smiled, giving a thumbs up, and Wyn couldn't help but smile back. There was something infectious about Nate's cavalier attitude. That and the strange humor gave the little blue medic hope that maybe this time the same person emerged on the other side of death.:: Wilmer: Told you I could do it... James: Oh! You complete [...]! ::She said through smiling exasperation.:: Foster: I would have called him something stronger than that... ::He grumped, staving off an onslaught of nagging. He had expressed concern before this whole debacle happened and it fell on deaf ears. Saying more would only make him look like a dottering mother-in-law; and Nate was too good of a friend for that.:: Wilmer: I'm clear enough to know this isn't my bedroom, Doc. I guess things were that bad, huh? ::He nodded slowly, looking more serious than he wished once again. This was supposed to be a stupid happy fun night of drinking where the worst thing to happen would be some impromptu vomiting and a bad hangover. Not a full on sickbay emergency.:: Foster: I cannot stress how much I don't play around with a patient who has no heartbeat. I'd rather overreact than bury someone. Life support did a bang up job of getting everything regulated again. Wilmer: Doc, please tell me I don't have to spend the entire shore leave in sick bay.... ::Wyn perked a brow and an antennae at Wilmer, debating the answer which he already knew. He wanted to chide Nate and remind him that he had already shot down the engineering repairs before the shock. Oh well.:: Foster: Probably not. But you'll remain here for overnight observation. I want to make sure there's no problem with arrhythmia. James: Yeah, mate, you listen to the Doc proper, yeh? Foster: I'll try to make you as comfy as possible. ::He paused, casting a glace towards James:: Nessa can even stay here if she likes. I have a comfy chair you can sleep in. James/Wilmer: ? ::He bobbed his head in an assent gesturing towards his nearby office.:: Foster: Yeah, I have a non-regulation recliner in my office. It's very, very comfy. But you have to be OK with Triberius sitting on your lap. James/Wilmer: ? ::a hand wave, he was trying to make them feel at ease about staying the night.:: Foster: Triberius is the ::cough:: cat-tribble hybrid Liani made. She said it was for advanced relaxation therapy. ::shrug:: When she left I kept him. He's an irritating ball of fur that loves to sleep on laps. Not sure if I would call that the ultimate in relaxation but he's a decently sweet sort. ::And since Wyn had lost his oldest and most favorite tribble to a soul sucking monster, Triberius was the oldest pet and most constant thing left in his life. He was more attached to the stupid furrball than he would ever admit.:: James/Wilmer: ? Foster: No, I'm not going to be your bodyguard. I'll let the nursing staff handle that. I'm probably going home and nursing one killer hangover. ::A thoughtful pause:: Speaking of, I'll have them treat you guys for hangovers, too. James/Wilmer: ? ::He moved to his office allowing Nessa use of said comfy chair if she desired before taking his leave.:: Foster: I'll see you guys in the morning. James/Wilmer: ? ~*~ ((Foster's Quarters - USS Constitution-B)) ::Wyn Foster dragged himself to his quarters feeling weak, shaky and sick. This was supposed to be a fun night. A relaxing night. A night of teasing and innuendo and drinking. What the hell went wrong? As the door slid open he stumbled inside, looking at the darkness of the big room. It was silent - he couldn't even hear sounds of breathing. That meant Ozameen was out with friends - not unusual. And Mark was... wherever Mark was. And he didn't breathe. God, it was quiet. He walked in like a zombie, letting his oversensitive eyes adjust to the darkness. The cold. It felt good, in stark contrast to the achy sickness in his chest and limbs. The whole conflict of sensation sent unpleasant chills across his skin as he stumbled towards one of the low cushions he called chairs and collapsed down into it. That was when he realized he was shaking. He just couldn't shake it. Could not shake the feeling that every time someone died on his watch, and he brought them back to life that they were never the same person when they woke up again. Could not shake the feeling that something terrible would come of this. Breath caught in his throat as his entire body tensed and he caught himself before he screamed like a mad fool. Instead he made a strangled sound, halfway between a muffled scream and a sob. And in that instant, between soberness and drunkness, between hangover and sleep he opened a slim blue hand and slapped himself across the face to jolt his body into some sort of awareness.:: Foster: Why are you so paranoid?! ::he yelled at himself in an impressively loud tone.:: ::The darkness had no answer.:: ::He cursed. He called out every deity he knew and threw foul words at them. He looked at the stars and called them names that would make his mother blush. Well, probably make her blush - he never knew her. He yelled and screamed at the walls until the reverberations made his antennae hurt. And when all was said and done he didn't feel any better than he had before he started. But his throat was sore. Here he was, over on year after his transfer and not much better healed than the day he set foot on the Apollo.:: Foster: ::Sinking to his knees:: I am stupid. I am so stupid... ::Both antennae perked up. There was footfalls outside. He frowned deeply - the bulkheads were pretty thick, meaning he had to have made a pretty good racket for someone to hear. Maybe they didn't hear. Maybe they were just wandering the halls...in the middle of the night... after a big tiring mission. The chime rang.:: Foster: ::Muttering under his breath:: I really am stupid... ::normal volume:: Who is it? Any: ? Foster: Nope, all fine in here. ::A blatant lie, but hey, it sounded convincing. Less so if one just heard his tirade, but Wyn was a decent actor.:: Any: ? ::He sighed. He had to admit something. Otherwise he seemed like a mad fool:: Foster: I'm a bit too drunk to be thinking straight and far too sober for my own good. Any: ? ::His brain screamed 'do not open the door!' But his heart screamed 'open the door, stupid!' Anyone standing outside a locked door for a conversation this long was someone who deserved a bit of recognition for that fact at the very least, if not an explanation. He sighed, and opened the door. Wyn was not quite as much of a mess as he felt. He was mostly put together. There was some smears on his white shirt from the quick emergency transport, and big dark navy rings under his eyes from a far too high dosage of alcohol inhibitor (which was wearing off..) but otherwise he was looking fairly normal.:: Foster: Hi. Welcome to my humble home. Any: ? ~*~ tags/tbc ~*~ Lt Commander Shar'Wyn Foster Chief Medical Officer USS Constitution-B "Why do we fly? Because we have dreamt of it for so long that we must" ~Julian Beck E239010ST0
  7. round 8 Cpt Jalana Rajel - Fear the Reaper

    ((Bridge)) :: Hell had gotten loose on the Conny and the Bridge had heard about it last, which was a new one for Jalana. She now had to sort through events, make a plan and had asked Engineering to give them a diagram of the ship on the main screen, Dag had tinted in the areas without power, Caesar had added the areas affected of fires and gas leaks. That diagram lit up like a christmas tree. Jalana really hoped that these were the only areas, but that was hope, not knowledge. :: Rajel: Okay. We need to form a couple of teams. We know that the lifts can't reach these decks, so let's get as close as we can, and use the Jeffrey's tube for access. Since the ship own systems can't take care of the fires, we need manual extinguishers. Every team also needs flashlights and phaser on stun. It might be possible that these voices are intruders, though I hope they aren't. For communications we need walkie talkies, because Comm badges do not work. I'll keep one on the bridge to be sure there is a way for contact.Soriano: Are we the only one’s that will be doing the rescuing? Look how small our group is.Thea: Well, the other option is to stand here with our thumbs up our noses. I know which option I'd rather take. Rajel: I am sure that medical is sending people out. It might be worth to latch onto them, to have bundled efficiently. I'd like to have three or four teams to try and put out fires and get people out. Dag, I know you have all your hands full with trying to get things fixed. ::She looked to the guys on the bridge and smiled.:: Thea, Akoni, Caesar, care to have a walk in the dark?Soriano: I’m already on a ship out in the middle of the vastness of space so, ::she shrugged her shoulders:: Why not. Let’s do this!Thea: That's the spirit, Skippy. Let's do this. Hol: Yeah! Let's do this! :: When Caesar suddenly covered his ears, Jalana instinctively took a step forward to check on him, but the Counselor seemed to be already on it. :: Thea: What are you doing? Rajel: Are you alright, Caesar? ::She forced herself to stay back to not step on someone else's toes. :: Soriano: ?Hol: Seriously... You can't hear that.Rajel: Hear what? Soriano: ?Thea: No, that's exactly how they acted before they started running off and yelling.Hol: I've heard it before. Back in my marine days. Ah. Me and my men were attacked by something, we called it the Presence. It drove my men insane.Thea: Wait, whoah... you have heard this before? When? Where?!:: Jalana wondered if that thing could have been following him, but that would not make much sense. If there had been on board the whole time it would have shown any signs of presence before now. Maybe there was a 'Presence' on the Unity? Or something on the Unity tiggered this? :: Soriano/Hol: ?Thea: It could be a lead - but we need sane crew to investigate those leads. Soriano/Hol: ?Rajel: Agreed. So let's get your team ready so you can start getting that crew out of the dark areas. We should have the right tools in the suppy cupboard. ::She gestured in its direction and Thea headed right over to get whatever would be useful for them out of it. :: Thea: Two fire suppressants. Four handlamps, one medical kit, and four phasers. Anything I'm forgetting?:: Jalana wondered why she grabbed four phasers and it appeared that the Counselor assumed that Jalana would go with them. She smiled to herself. How much would she have liked to go with them. Rajel: No sounds good. Keep the fourth as a backup for whoever you find. I will have to remain here. As said you are not alone out there, we have a big ship with many people and I'll call out to form more teams. :: Ezirah walked up to them and handed each of them a walkie-talkie, apparently he had gotten those while the four had talked. :: Rajel: Thank you. Keep those with you and use them for contact while you are on the dark decks, communicators won't work down there. ::With that she turned hers on.:: Soriano/Hol: ?Thea: I ain't afraid of no ghosts... ::She proclaimed, grabbing her equipment and heading for the door.Hol: Who's gonna stay on the bridge? We can't leave the ship unmanned!:: Jalana almost laughed, but suppressed it.:: Rajel: Look around. We have 5 people here, apart from us four, also over 900 more crew members, two of them will come up as soon as you leave to take over your consoles. I would hardly calle that unmanned, Caesar. Don't you worry. We'll be fine. Dismissed.Thea/Soriano/Hol: ?:: She watched the team leave and placed the walkie talkie on the seat next to her own, where the Counselor or Medical Officer or whoever would help out without a console on the bridge would be seated. She raised a hand to brush over her forehead, a few fiery locks got tangled between her fingers. :: Ezirah: Sir, you should see that. :: She looked up to him and he gestured to the screen where she looked at one of the camera images. The person next to the camera wearer raised their arm and shot at Kalos. Well not directly at him, but only a little above at the wall behind him. She blinked. :: Rajel: Which camera is that?Ezirah: Doctor Milsap. :: Jalana's heart beat a little faster. :: Rajel: Who is the shooter?:: Apparently Jerry looked at the teammate. From what Jalana could see he was no Senior Officer, which was difficult with the helmet. So it had to be the security detail. :: Ezirah: Senior Chief Petty Officer Riyao, Security. Commander Fiorr does not appear to be hurt.:: Jalana nodded slightly, relieved to hear that. A cold shiver ran over her back, as if someone had dragged down the thermostat on the bridge. For a brief moment she closed her eyes and exhaled. As she opened them again she stared into the blackness of a non visible face under a black hooded figure staring her right into the face. She yelped and fell backwards onto her chair, seeing that it was not just a black hood but a robe, floor long and tattered. :: Voice: They will be mine. :: The throaty voice rattled like a bunch of marbles in a metal can. Jalana had frozen up on her seat, unable to move and the cold seeped through every cell of her body, making it hard to breath. She did not have to be terran to recognize the Grim Reaper. She tried to speak but all strength had been soaked out of her body at the sight of the one thing she feared more than anything else. :: Ezirah: Ma'am? Ma'am are you alright? :: The El Aurian's voice came through, slowly like through many layers of cotton. She felt a touch and jumped in her seat with a scream. But it caused the image in front of her to change, from the black hooded faceless taker of lives to the worried expression on the quiet Intel Officer, whose curls dropped in front of his shoulders, framing the bronze face. :: Ezirah: Are you alright, Ma'am?:: Jalana looked around, officers from all stations either looked over to her in confusion, or tried very hard to look away. The viewscreen still showed the Unity, the camera image and the ship's diagram. Everything was normal, he was not here any more. :: Rajel: Yea... yeah I'm fine. It's nothing. Ezirah: Are you sure, Ma'am? ::She clearly saw that he doubted that. She lowered her voice so only he could hear it. :: Rajel: Did you see someone in front of me? Tall, black robes... Ezirah: No. Should I call for a Counselor or Medic to check on you? Rajel: They are busy with the trapped crew. But you could give me a medkit from the other panel. :: The Intel officer didn't wait a beat, before he headed right there and came back with the medkit just a moment later and went back to his console, though she felt that he kept checking on her. As she opened it, she saw the vials of drugs, that could easily help her to calm down. Her fingers slightly shook as she forced herself not to use either. It was so tempting, so easy. Just like back then, suppress, calm down, don't think. No she had to keep a clear head. She hoped that he hadn't noticed her hesitation and quickly grabbed the Tricorder to check on herself. :: :: She leaned back and exhaled, her eyes fixed on the tricorder. Raised blood pressure, pulse is too high... ::She furrowed her brow.:: Increased brain activity. Thea had talked about people hearing voices, being spooked, hearing things. Caesar had heard something none of them had. Kalos had spoken of a voice in his head earlier. She had seen and heard the Grim Reaper... :: .oO What is going on here? Oo. TBC-----Captain Jalana RajelCommanding OfficerUSS Constitution BImage Team FacilitatorA238906JL0
  8. round 8 Ensign Chelin Ch'Gabor - Not just yet

    ((Unknown, Unknown)) ::He woke up with a jolt. He expected the bright light of the sickbay, surrounded by worried doctor and nurses, and the smell of the gas. But he didn't. He looked around, he was in a dream, it seemed. The white background started to materialise. It turned into a ship's bridge. He slowly took a step towards one of the consoles. The crew there couldn't see him, apparently. The Human Captain sat on his chair, facing the viewscreen intently. Chelin peered down at the console. He was on the Kyushu. The ship his dad had died on.:: ::There wasn't an Andorian on the bridge. Chelin started to breath heavily and fast walked to the screen. The Borg. Chelin realised, he was at the Battle of Wolf 359. The turbolift behind him opened up, and an Andorian figure stepped out. His hair was straight, eyes were gleaming. It looked as if he got into some trouble before he came here.:: Dad: Hello, Chelin. ::His head spun around, the Andorian knew his name and knew he was there!:: Chelin: H-hello..who are you? ::The Andorian walked over and placed both of his hands on Chelin's.:: Dad: I am your father, Chelin. ::A shot of anxiety and panic riddled Chelin's body. It can't be. He died 25 years ago. Died the same day Chelin was born. This was impossible.:: Chelin: No...it can't be! You died 25 years ago! ::Pain captured his voice, he felt betrayed.:: Dad: I am aware of that...::he let go of his shoulders:: Chelin: Why..only now? ::The question paralysed his father, stopping in his tracks in front of the Captain. He took a moment to take in the question.:: Dad: This was the right time. I hope you know that you are about to die. ::Chelin fell backwards. D-die..? Of falling down a deck and breathing in unknown fumes? Before another word came out, his father spoke first.:: Dad: You joined Starfleet. Chelin: ::Shaking the death thought out:: Yes, I did. ::A blast shook the ship, throwing officers to the floor. Chelin and his father were unfazed. The battle had just begun.:: Dad: Three different divisions in one family. I was in Engineering. Your brother in Command. You in Science. ::Was that necessary?:: Chelin: I am...aware of that. Dad: ::He nodded his head:: Good. ::One more blast shook the bridge, exploding some consoles. It was not real. Nothing in this dream was real. But it felt real.:: Chelin: Where will you be, right now? ::The question was left hanging as the bridge combusted into flames. Consoles were breaking apart, officers were flung out of their seats, the vacuum of space exposed itself. The Captain tried to pilot the ship himself, surviving the blast. It did not last long, until a ray of light enveloped the bridge.:: ::The setting was white again, this time around he was alone.:: Chelin: Anyone there?! ::echo:: ::He squat down to feel the floor. Nothing. Plain, simple floor. Immediately the background materialised. He faced a stage, an Admiral held about 10 pieces of papers. In front of the stage, the banner read 'Battle of Wolf 359 Memoriam".:: ::The birds were chirping, the San Fransisco Bay water soothly crashing against the wall. The Golden Gate Bridge stands like a mighty king. The memoriam appeared to be attended by hundreds and hundreds of grieving civilians. Seats extended all the way to the back. That's when he spotted Andorians among them. Surely, there were other Andorians grieving for their lost ones. But Chelin was sure it was his mother, holding himself, alongside his elder brother.:: ::The Admiral was reading names, of the lost ones to the Borg cube, destroyed by the Enterprise above orbit of Earth. Each name mentioned, sounds of crying and weeping here heard.:: Admiral: Charon Ch'Gabor, Engineering Officer, USS Kyushu. ::A mildly loud cry could be heard, his mother. Chelin himself felt like breaking down. It was like losing another parent, in spite of losing already one. He tried to conceal the tears, failing miserably at it.:: Dad: How do you feel, Chelin? ::He appeared right next to him, as the Admiral read more names.:: Chelin: ::Chocking on his tears:: Dreadful. Sad. Emotionally-scarred. Dad: That was how your mother felt, after losing me. You take from her. ::Soon, the San Fransisco view disappeared and the white background surfaced again. Still crying, Chelin started getting agitated. What was the purpose?!:: Chelin: ::Wanting to shout, but chocking:: What does this mean?!? ::There wasn't any answer. He sat on the empty floor, unsure of his next move.:: Dad: Nobody wants you to die, Chelin. ::Once again, he reappeared.:: Dad: Your mother can't take another loss. Your brother does not have the guts to take care of her, if she gets emotionally scarred again. She will go crazy. Goodbye, son. ::Nothing else. He didn't felt like he was dying. But whatever the fall gave him, it must have hurt himself a lot.:: oO I'm not ready to die, just yet. Oo TBC Ens. Chelin Ch'Gabor Science Officer USS Constitution-B C239212CC0
  9. Round 7 PNPC Mark Two - Spooks

    ((Space - The Final ... oh you know.))::There was a static crackle and a burst of white light just before everything went dark.Very, very dark. It was light all light in the universe had turned off. Dark and silent. No power, no movement, no sound.Mark Two let his jaw loll open feeling a shiver run up his holographic spine. Where was he? He waited a few seconds, straining his ears to listen. Nothing. He expected Doctor Foster to be barking orders by now, or at the very least someone talking about what was going on. Maybe they were all waiting for someone else to speak?He waited... and waited. He drew in a breath that he didn't need, and finally screwed up the courage to speak::Mark Two: Hey... guys?::Silence.A rush of panic hit Mark square in the chest, radiating out to his fingers and toes. Were they hurt? Unconscious? Dead?::Mark Two: Doctor Foster? Doc Milsap? Mr. Nijil? ::he called out, voice wavering:: Are you guys OK?::Nothing.Mark stumbled forward, rushing blindly in the direction he last remembered them, hands out to prevent himself from crashing into anything in his way.But he hit nothing. He waved his hands, searching for the wall he knew was there, the doorframe, the dropped medical supplies.Nothing. He couldn't even feel the floor. How was he standing? He didn't know.::Mark Two: ::With a gasp:: I've gone insubstantial! ::Shouting:: Doctor Foster! Doctor Milsap! Doctor Nijil! Can you hear me?!::Nothing.Pause. A gasp in the darkness.::Mark Two: ::He perked his head up, blue eyes wide. A tiny glimmer of hope welled in his electronic heart:: Hello?! CAN YOU HEAR ME?::Silence.Silence...::Voice: ::Tiny:: help me.::The breath he didn't need caught n his throat - a reaction of memory rather than necessity.::Mark Two: Where are you? Are you OK?Voice: help me.::Mark whirled around, stumbling sideways, trying to get closer to the sound::Mark Two: How do I help you? Who are you?Voice: help me.::No matter which way he went, he couldn't get any closer to it, consistently a whisper on the wind.::Mark Two: Are you injured?Voice: help me.::Mark knit his brows together, thoroughly confused. It was like talking to a broken record. He grit his teeth and tried something different.::Mark Two: The other voice said 'they are coming.' Are they coming for you?Voice: ::There was a pause. no answer.::Mark Two: Are you scared of them?::Another pause, this one felt ominous as the air around him grew cold.::Voice: ::Still tiny:: I am them.::Mark closed his eyes and frozen in place, silently screaming in the impenetrable dark.::~*~tbc...~*~pNPC Mark TwoEmergency Medical Hologram Mark IIUSS Constitution-BSimmed by: Wyn Foster
  10. (( Interrogation Room - Deck 28 - USS Constitution-B )) :: Thomas Prendar loved the initial quiet of the interrogation room. It was a solid gray room, with no windows (as a nearby holo-projector provided security a view in) and there was simply two chairs facing each other. Prendar especially had the table removed so that his next interrogation had nothing between him and the SFI officer to subconsciously hide behind. :: :: The door shifted open and he saw Lieutenant JG Jerome Milsap enter. :: Prendar: Mister Milsap. Please have a seat. :: Jerry stepped uncertainly to the empty chair, taking in the surroundings as he did. It certainly fit the general idea of an interrogation room. He sat down and reached for the banjo slung across his back. :: :: Thomas’ eyebrows slowly went up as he saw the banjo on the man’s back and that he was reaching for it. :: Prendar: oO What...the...hell? Oo Milsap: Don’t mind if I do. :: He waited for the man to sit down, but before he could get situated, Prendar barked out his first question. :: Prendar: So, do you want confess now or give me a hard time and confess later? :: Jerry jumped in his seat, shock written across his face. :: Milsap: All right, all right! I’ll talk! Prendar: Good. Talk! :: Jerry pulled the banjo from his back in cradled it over his knee, hanging his head with a shamed expression. :: :: It took every ounce of control the man had not to burst into laughter. He had thought he saw everything, but this proved him wrong. :: Milsap: I...I snuck a kiss from Charlotte Mason in third grade. ::He looked up earnestly.:: But only once! Prendar: ::chuckling and looking at the PADD. :: You sure? The file says twice. Milsap: You know, I thought it seemed odd for SFI to come all this way just for that. So what is this about? Prendar: It’s about your mission. I need you to explain to me why you violated the Temporal Prime Directive. Milsap: ::nodding:: Now that makes more sense. I imagine you want to make sure we didn’t mess anything up back then. Prendar: Make sure? Oh, I know you screwed things up. I want to find out who is responsible and deal with them. Milsap: Good, that’s why I brought Mariah here. ::He gingerly patted the top of the banjo.:: She’s gonn help me tell you exactly what went on. Now let’s see…I believe I’ll call it “We Shouldn’t Even Be Here”. ::Jerry cleared his throat, picked up the banjo and started strumming a lively bluegrass melody, bobbing his head in time. When the melody cycled through and began again he started in with some lyrics. :: Milsap: Well, the Constitution was a-makin' her rounds, surveyin' Talos, seein' what could be found When she ran into somethin' we'd never seen before (well, most of us anyway). It chewed her up and spat her out at Earth, and though we had our doubts We found ourselves on the eve of the first world war. At first the only thing we knew was that we had to get back through But the first trip darn near broke Ol' Conny's back. Then we learned things down below weren't goin' the way they's supposed to go And someone had to get history back on track. We traveled through a hole in space and wound up back in time And only we know how to set things right, for what it's worth. We shouldn't even be here, but seein' as we are We might as well do what we can to fix things down on Earth. The warp drive doesn't run on dreams so we split the crew up into teams To patch things up before the core was spent. One went to China to find supplies and they managed to do it, to no one's surprise But I wasn't there, so you'd have to ask them how it went. Now, Starfleet says "Don't interfere!" and that's easy to say when you're safe back here But in a situation like ours, well whadda ya do? Can't call for help, no ships to be found, all we could do was either beam folks down Or just orbit the moon for a century or two. Ol' Connys in some dire shape, her life is fadin' fast Her hull is gonna break up and her power's gonna drain. We shouldn't even be here, but seein' as we are Instead of whinin' that she's broke, let's make her run again! :: Jerry stopped his strumming and leaned in toward Prendar. :: Milsap: Now here’s where I come in. :: He winked and picked up the melody again. Milsap: I was nervous as a man can be when Danzia, Rajel, T'Mar and me Beamed down just as the war was set to begin. I never learned what was to blame but somethin' threw off the transporter's aim And we wound up pretty darn far from Berlin. We saw a horseman nearly die, he turned out to be this Princip guy Who played a major part in those events. We knew we had to fix his head and get him in a biobed So up into the ship's sickbay he went. The medics made sure he was stable and sedated him so he wasn't able To recall any details 'bout the place. And it must have worked 'cause last I looked there weren't no mention in the history book Of Princip bein' beamed up into space. Just when we thought we had it made the Kaiser showed up for a parade, We had to make it so he stayed away. We slipped a potion in his food and at the risk of sounding crude It kept him on the crapper all next day. We found a glitch in history that just might stop the Earth Becoming Federation in a couple hundred years. We shouldn't even be here, but seein' as we are We'll fix things up so no one even knows that we were here. :: Jerry thought about the rumors he'd heard on his way to the interview. He'd picked up on the words "Rajel" and "confined" and could pretty much guess the intelligence officers were giving Jalana a raw deal, likely with others not far behind. Now that he was near the end of the story, he scrounged up the indignation he'd been suppressing and channeled it into the song, adding a subtle edge to the final verses. :: Of course we never planned to go, we didn't have much say in it, though And we might wish someone else had fit the bill But let me ask you something brother, wish in one hand and crap in the other And you tell me which one's the first to fill! Goin' back in time? Y'all might forbid it, but the present's whole because we did it And I can't see anything that we did wrong. If Rajel and the crew'd just let things be, you wouldn't be sittin' across from me And I wouldn't be here to pick out this here song! But SFI is puttin' Constitution's crew on trial, Why don't we lay this nonsense inquisition down to rest? We shouldn't even be here, but seein' as we are Let's just agree that everything has worked out for the best. Instead of puttin' Jalana in jail, y'all should thank her for savin' your tail! It's 'cause of her that everything has worked out for the best! :: As the last strains of the banjo and singing faded in the empty, gray colored room. Prendar just stared at the man. Finally, he spoke. :: Prendar: Get out, Mister Milsap. Now. Milsap: ::smiling:: Don’t mind if I do. :: Jerry grabbed his banjo by the neck and sauntered to the door. He didn’t know if his performance actually helped anyone, but he was confident he’d at least done what he could to clear up the situation. :: ~tbc~ Joint Post By…. Commander Thomas Prendar Lead Investigator Starfleet Intelligence As Simmed by… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Colonel Nugra Marine Commanding Officer USS Doyle-A, NCC-980221-B Deputy Commandant Captain's Council Magistrate V238008N10 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ & Lieutenant JG Jerome Milsap Assistant Chief Medical Officer USS Constitution-B C239208JM01
  11. One more weekend of the Haunted Hayride... And i couldn't be happier! Funny how that works :P

  12. It is finally here! My local Haunted House is now open! So happy because I volunteer on the hayride and scare people! Mwahaha... er... Hehe

  13. Why does it take so long to get use to everything? This is crazy. We all should be able to snap our fingers and... Boom! back into the flow of things

  14. Welcome to UFOP: Starbase 118!

  15. official Arrival at StarBase 118 - introduce your character here!

    Rustyy Hael wasn't anything impressive to look at, even for a Human. He stood at 5'5" but had broad shoulders and large forearms. No one knew how built he was because he always wore long sleeves to cover his tattoo on his inner arm. Rustyy was clean cut though, his hair shaved on the sides and across the back. His hair on top was thick brown and combed to one side, made it easy to get ready in the morning. Rustyy was one of seven kids born and raised in old Americas Alaska. He was the oldest one sent out to make a good example for the rest. Not likely though, Rustyy was a problem child, always getting into fights at school. Rustyy was 17 looking at some serious trouble with the law when a local recruiter found him. Gave him a chance of a life time to not see time. Now here he was, four years later,22 years old, he as far from home as he never wanted to be. About to transport over to his new temporary home till he was a signed to a long term assignment. Rusty hated transporters, and hated large groups. Yet he liked action and being in the middle of a fight. *The choices I make...* Rustyy thought as transporter took him away. Next thing he knew he was standing on the transporter pad of the Star base. A portly man stood at the console, the kind of man that doesn't like to move around to much. Rustyy picked up his old american military duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder. The man behind the console gave Rustyy a dirty look dripping with judgment. Rustyy grunted and rolled his eyes. "Hey," Rustyy said getting the mans attention "What level are the training quarters?" The man looked Rustyy up and down, shaking his head, "Level four section three." Rustyy nodded and walked out into the corridor. He had to step back a bit when a group of ensons walked past talking loudly. *To many people already, this is going to be rough.* He turned down the corridor towards the nearest turbo lift, avoiding as many people as possible. When we made it to the door he reached out to press the button, and nothing happened. *Really? Come on!* He pressed the button a few more times before kicking the door in defeat. "Uuuuuhg!" Rustyy groaned out, "You have got to be kidding me." He dropped his bag at his side as a Lt. walked up on him. "Are you lost, cadet?" asked Vulcan female. "Nope, just standing here like an idiot. Question does this lift work?" he asked with his head tilted back and side looking at her. She gave him a blank stair, "No it is in process of being repaired." Rustyy nodded as he threw his bag over his shoulder, "You know, there's nothing wrong with using signs. Not everyone knows what's going on." The Vulcan female gave him a long look before turning on her heel and walking off. Rustyy grunted as he pinched his lips together in annoyance. But he trudged onward down a ways to the next turbo lift. He pressed its button, it opened immediately. *Thank goodness!* Inside the lift there where two Tellerites and another Vulcan. Rustyy grunted once again in defeat, squeezing in next to the Vulcan. *At least he won't start talking to me.* Rustyy kept his head down, listening to the conversation taking place inside the lift. The Tellerites were engineers, they were discussing the work needing done on three of the turbolifts. Rustyy sighed. The lift came to a stop on level four. The Tellerites got off first, now in an argument over where to start and insulting each other. *How do they get anything done?!?* Rustyy shook his head as he disembarked the lift, leaving the Vulcan alone. Rustyy looked around at the intersection, trying to decide which way to go. There were lots of people to the left and straight ahead, and he didn't want to interact with any of them this early upon arrival. So he turned right, and he got lucky. He walked past the next intersection to see 'SECTION THREE' on the wall. Two doors later and he was at his quarters. *About freaking time.* Rustyy had yet to successively deal with large groups while at the academe. At least there he could go off to the small local bars and blow off steam, here he wouldn't have such luxury. Rustyy entered his room and tossed his bag onto the floor next to the bed. He flopped onto the bed on his back, boots still on. He threw his arm over his face, unsure if he was just going to lay there or sleep. Minutes pasted by in utter silence. Suddenly, Rustyy sat up propping himself up on his hands. *Stations have bars, bars has booze. Booze puts me in good mood.* He jumped up, walking into the washroom to check his appearance. Looking into the mirror he saw his hair was slightly disheveled but he shrugged it off. *Good enough.* Rustyy went out of his room and went back down to the working turbo lift, heading towards ten forward.