Mirra Ezo

((Dominicus VI. Mines “Sickbay”.)) ::The grass was soft and warm beneath his bare feet as he walked, the sun giving off enough warmth to be pleasant but not hot. He smiled to himself as he gazed up at the clear blue sky. Not a cloud to be seen today. He felt her hand take his and his gaze fell to the beautiful smiling face of Xiu. He smiled warmly at her as he squeezed her hand, and the pair of them came to a halt underneath a blossom tree, atop a gentle hill that overlooked the village. His sheathed sword rested heavily against his thigh, and he rested his free right hand upon its hilt. He took a deep breath, Xiu smiling at him again, wondering why he had brought her up here.:: Xiu: What is it my love? ::He removed his sword belt. Xiu gasped. He got onto his knees before her as he placed the sword upon the ground at her feet. It was a traditional gesture. He was offering her his blade, his honour and his life. To take as her own and mould into something new for them both. A home, a family, a- And that is when the alarms began and the fire came from skies…. Tenaka awoke with strangled gasp. Tears flowing freely down his face and into his beard. He looked around, seeing nothing but darkness. His mind caught up with itself and he settled back into his chair slowly.:: Tenaka: oO Nothing but a dream. She is long since turned to dust…. Oo ::Moments later, alarms began to blare and Tenaka felt a pang in his heart. He wanted to close his eyes and return to that wonderful dream. Before the smoke, and the fire. Before the death and destruction. Before Xiu was ripped from life right before his eyes. The last thing he ever saw.:: Tenaka: Little bear? ::Omasi Yarja had been having the dream again. The one where she was trapped in a mine, forced to shove cartfuls of ore for hours on end. Except, it wasn’t a dream at all. That was her life. She couldn’t even escape this place in her sleep. She had joined the geological expedition, set out from Bajor, but their project coordinator was nothing more than a slave trader. He stole their credits and brought them straight into the hands of the Orion Syndicate. She lost count how long it had been, but she’d been the only survivor from her small company. But, it wasn’t the memories, it was the alarms that woke her. These were different, and they scared her. She’d gotten out of her tiny bed, wanting to check on him..:: Omasi: I’m here Master Tenaka. ::He already knew she was there, he could hear her moving about. He could manage perfectly well on his own, but she seemed to take comfort in taking care of him, helping him shuffle around the sickbay and being his guide when he ventured beyond his walls and so from time to time he would ‘accidentally’ drop something or be unable to find his chair. And Goddess love her, she would be there in a flash, to pick up whatever it was or ease him into his seat.:: Tenaka: I am master of none, little bear. Least of all you. ::He reached out and patted her hand gently:: ::He could tell the young boy, Julien was not there. His breathing was panicked and short, but there was nobody here except the two of them. The Marine had gone as well. He shuffled his way across the room, putting some water to boil. He allowed her to huff and fuss and take him back to his chair and sat, staff between his feet, hands atop it and listened intently as she quietly sang to herself. He closed his eyes as he listened out of old habit. It was a bad habit, her calling him Master. He told her stories of his past, and he taught her how to keep the guards and their grabby arms away from her. Once they learned she was his ward, they’d kept their distance. She was forever grateful to him and his kindness. He was all she had in this horrible place. And she vowed to return the favor of his protection in any way she could. She helped guide him through the new tunnels, and where she’d set out his things, after she cleaned them as best she could. He spent his time healing the wounds of the others, and it was important work. Work she couldn’t replicate herself, but she could help facilitate.:: Omasi: Forgive me, Sofu. ::Calling him by his name seemed...so disrespectful. At least to her race. She felt she hadn’t earned the right, so, he told her to call him Sofu. Said it was a nickname. One he liked. He of course never told her it translated to “Grandfather”. But she loved him as if he was, so one day, when she learned the truth, it would still feel right.:: Tenaka: Tell me. Do you miss it? Omasi: Miss what, Sofu? ::He offered a gentle smile as she turned.:: Tenaka: Your home. On Bajor. ::He heard her put down the spoon she was holding, and come across the room. A cup was placed upon the table beside him and he caught the scent of orange tea. He smiled, she was a good girl and looked after him well. He would be sorry to see her go.:: Tenaka: Perhaps you will see it again. Should you choose to return there. ::He took her silence to be contemplative and sipped at his tea as the alarms continued to blare. Taking another sip, he looked up as the speaker on the far wall whined to life.:: Damarkus: =/\=Starfleet, I know you're here. In anticipation of this I have gathered every slave at gunpoint. For every minute you remain in my mines I will slaughter one slave. For every step you advance towards me, I will slaughter one slave. Get out now, or you will die with the blood of countless "innocents" on your hands.=/\= Tenaka: Where is the boy? ::The boy? Oh! The young arrival, who had been beaten brutally. They had taken him. Never letting them stay for long in the care of Master Tenaka. They allowed his administration's because he kept the slave labor alive. Alive, and relatively well. Otherwise, they’d receive heat from their own superiours about the constant need for new replacements.:: Omasi: They came and took him. Bardur and Rell’tham. They took the boy and the soldier to the mines. ::Tenaka nodded slowly to himself, placing the cup onto its saucer with perfect accuracy. He had lived here long enough. He would not be sorry when the end came. He tapped his staff on the floor, rising to his feet with a groan of old age and lingering stiffness from a night slept in his chair.:: Tenaka: Come, little bear. ::We waved his staff at the door:: It is time for us to be on our way. We have much work to do. Much work indeed. ::And with that, like an old warship slowly setting sail, Tenaka made his way from the mines barely functional sickbay for what would be the last time.:: --- Master Tenaka. Healer. Dominicus VI Mines. Simmed by; Lieutenant (JG) Arturo Maxwell. Tactical Officer. Starbase 118 Operations. O239311AM0. And Omasi Yarja. Bajoran Geologist . Simmed by; Lt. Commander Mirra Ezo, MD. Chief Medical Officer. Starbase 118 Ops. C239205ME0.

((Dominicus VI. Mines “Sickbay”.)) ::If there was but a single man in the galaxy that fit the imagery of an “old kung-fu master”, then it was him. He wore his long silvered hair in a topknot with some left loose either side of his head. His long beard was silver, and bound at it’s longest point with beads. His robes were loose, flowing and various shades of brown, as were his tattered old shoes. He wore cream coloured wraps around his calves and down to his ankles, the dirt of the mine staining their lower halves brown also. He wore a black belt with a scabbard where once a blade had rested, although he had not possessed his own for the seventy years he had been here.:: Tenaka: oO Seventy years. But not much longer. Oo ::He was slight of frame and mildly hunched forwards, walking with a shuffle as he leaned upon a staff that was well beyond his own ninety-eight years. He spent most of his time in this place, the closet thing the slaves had to a sickbay. It was more like a butchers shop combined with a torture chamber, the stink of blood and bowels liquefied in fear permeating the air without pause.:: Tenaka: oO I cannot remember fresh air. Oo ::They had stopped trying to prevent him from spending his days here, tending to the spiritual well-being of those slaves and indentured workers that passed through. Every guard had tried in their turn, and every one of them had been carried limply to this very room for treatment. Some had been cast aside to rot where they lay in the tunnels. The frail and blind old man with the staff laying them low with ease, for some reason not one of them had ever dared to shoot him. He did not know why this was. Perhaps it was the Goddess protecting him? After all, despite learning the ways of war and death as a fiery youth, he had never forsaken his vows to Her as a healer. Perhaps his recent dreams were a message?:: Tenaka: oO All of my days I pledge to Her. To seek out the sick, and the lost. The damaged and the broken. To cast light upon their shadows and lift them from suffering. All of my days I pledge to Her. Oo ::His attention had been drawn much earlier to three new arrivals. Two of them sounded like rough, military men and a fight had ensued. There had been a single heavy shot, and Tenaka recognised the sound of Bardur’s heavy slug-throwing pistol followed by a dead weight hitting the ground. The other military man had been soundly beaten and tied, the third man being bound also, despite his panicked cries and sobs.:: Bardur: Quiet! ::The heavy sound of a backhanded slap from an armoured glove.:: ::Tenaka stood slowly, his sightless eyes boring into the hulking guard.:: Tenaka: You will leave the boy unharmed, Bardur. Lest I provide you another lesson in humility. ::He heard the guard alter his stance, the sound of the halberd scraping the floor as it was raised to a fighting stance. Tenaka slowly picked up his walking staff, tapping its end on the floor by his left foot. He knew the mines and its corridors and tunnels better than any of those with their sight intact and this room best of all. He swept around the nearest table, the tip of his staff at Bardur’s windpipe before the huge guard could even blink.:: Tenaka: Leave us. ::The atmosphere changed almost instantly, the guards slow nod and quick retreat a sign that there was at least a sliver of intelligence in the man’s brain. He grounded the butt of his staff once more and spoke without turning.:: Tenaka: And what is your name, young man? Paradi: Julian. Crewman second class, USS Colum- ::Starfleet. Tenaka held a hand up. Pointing with startling accuracy between the other two new arrivals, one beaten, one dead, he offered the boy a smile as he turned.:: Tenaka: I am not your gaoler. Tell me, Julian. Who are they? Paradi: Marines. That’s Private Lockwood in the chair. ::A sniffle:: The other was Private Selkirk. ::Tenaka nodded slowly. Yes, he would not live here much longer. Time passed, perhaps an hour or two when another slave was dragged into the room and slammed into a chair for treatment. The Marine was unconscious, battered and bleeding where he sat bound to his chair. The boy – Julien – had fallen into a fitful sleep. That was good. He would need his strength.:: Tenaka: And what may I do for you young man? Maxwell: Tripped on mah laces an broke my hand. Tenaka: oO That voice! Oo Then let us attend to it. ::Tenaka bound the fingers and set the broken hand as best as he could, which considering his resources was not very well at all. When the boy returned to his ship, it could be healed properly. But Tenaka could do no more for him than prevent the broken bones from setting themselves too far out of line.:: Tenaka: There. Good as new. ::A ghost of a smile played across his lips.:: Your friends will be safe here with me, Arturo Maxwell. ::He didn’t need vision to tell him of the shock and surprise on the young man’s face at the utterance of his name by a complete stranger. The boy was hauled from the seat once more by the guard – which was Rell’tharn judging by the tiny bells tied around his collar – and Tenaka grabbed the prisoners arm fiercly, leaning in to whisper in his ear.:: Tenaka: Fear not young Maxwell. She is coming for you. Maxwell: Wha? Tenaka: A lady of fire and flame. She comes for you. ::Pause:: For all of you. Rell’tham: Move! ::And with that, the boy was manhandled from the room.:: Tenaka: ::Quietly to himself.:: Fear not. She comes. --- Master Tenaka. Healer. Dominicus VI Mines. Simmed by; Lieutenant (JG) Arturo Maxwell. Tactical Officer. Starbase 118 Operations. O239311AM0.

((Somewhere?)) ::He was falling. No wait, he was…. No, he was definitely falling. The sun was shining, and the smell of freshly cut grass lingered in the air. Flowers of all colours danced in the gentle breeze as he walked along the path, his daughters arms around his neck as he carried her along. There were couples and families scattered about here and there enjoying a picnic or just lay in the sun. People on skates or bicycles zipped by every now and then a couple of dogs barked and yapped as they chased each other about, whilst their owners watched as they flirted back and forth. He looked her, giving her a big grin and a kiss on the cheek:: Maxwell: Love you, squidge. Amelia: Love you too, Daddy! ::Her little arms tightening in a hug:: ::They walked over a stone bridge, it’s three arches spanning a sparkling blue river that on their left opened out into a lake where little boats and pleasure craft bobbed about on the tiny waves, and birds circled overhead. He realised she was staring at him, and he smiled questioningly:: Amelia: Daddy, are we dead? ::Before he could answer, an immense pain blossomed just above his heart and he fell, losing his grip on…. On who? There was nobody there? He was lay face down on a threadbare carpet in a grotty room somewhere. He could hear the honking and stop-start of road traffic, and the slashing rain that hammered against the windows. The pain in his chest was still there, and breathing seemed hard. Should breathing be hard? He wasn’t sure… Picking himself slowly from the floor, he looked around the quite frankly disgusting room. There were discarded food wrappers all over the place, and countless little packets, dishes and hypos on a filthy coffee table. There were three sofas arranged in a ‘U’ around it. One sofa had a young couple under a blanket on it, the girl dribbling and the guy muttering some utter gibberish about giant hamsters. He put a hand to his chest in the way people have always done. As if simply touching it would make the pain go away. The occupant of the second sofa was a young woman, totally naked but for a single sock. She held a half-dispensed hypo in one grubby hand and was sprawled out in such a way as to leave no shred of modesty. Maxwell looked away to the third sofa. And his heart skipped a beat.:: Maxwell: oO Karey!? Oo ::Her arms were scored with countless old marks from razor blades and needle pin[...]s. On the sofa by her feet lay an old style manual syringe, a single drop of glossy pinkish liquid beading at its point. He reached out to brush the greasy hair clear of her face, when a second pain exactly like the first exploded square in the middle of his stomach. He doubled up, and dropped to his knees.:: Voice: MAX! ::Opening his eyes, he jumped slightly as he saw… Who? Marla? Mayra? Mirra? That was it! Mirra! She was the…? She was the? It was medical. He thought. Maybe? He looked down at the bridesmaids dress she wore and beamed at her.:: Maxwell: You’ve done the hard bit lass! Erin’s here the now, and you just need tae walk in behind her. ::A smile:: Stop her tripping on that wee dress ae’ hers… ::The blonde woman in the long flowing bridal dress looked on the verge of a meltdown as she stood before him, chewing her bottom lip over and over:: Erin: I can’t do this, Max. It’s too much! Maxwell: Of course you can! He’s in there now, twice as scared as you are! ::He offered her his arm, guiding her to the door of the little church in…? Somewhere? Did it matter? He’d been asked to give her away at the ceremony and he felt truly honoured to do so. He wasn’t sure why her father wasn’t performing this traditional role, but he wasn’t going to be insulting and refuse the part he’d been offered in this wonderful day. They paused at the church door. His stomach and chest hurt, and he wasn’t sure why. He squeezed her hand in a “Ready?” question. Getting a gentle nod in return, in they went. The priest was waiting, and with a grin, clawed at his skin to reveal a familiar blue face and a maniacal laugh. It was only then he noticed he was stood on his own. A group of people he knew but couldn’t place were all bound and being beaten by men with green skin. Orions? Here? He pointed a finger at the blue woman as a third pain blossomed in his shoulder. He cried out in agony. The blue woman laughed. The green men all drew long knives, pulling back the heads of his friends. Blackness engulfed him, and he heard a voice. Voice: Taelon! We could really use those doors to be closed right about now! ::He wondered what the point was? The church was on fire, his friends all lay in motionless heaps, the Orions gloating over them. He couldn’t move, the trio of hurts were too much. His limbs wouldn’t function. Was he being dragged….?:: Maxwell: ::He let out an agonised groan:: Anybody get the number ae that shuttle….? --- Lieutenant (JG) Arturo Maxwell. Tactical Officer. Starbase 118 Operations. O239311AM0.

Congratulations to the both of you! Very well done!!

((Starbase 118, Ensign Maxwell’s Apartment – Thirty-one hours after the Columbia’s return.)) ::His face and neck were itching like mad were Dr Ezo had removed the scarring that belonged to the now discarded persona of Logan Lang. The rest of his body was also sore and aching, but that wasn’t the worst part of how he felt. There was a deep ache in his chest, which some would call a broken heart. No, that wasn’t it. They’d split up for the final time when he was a year into the Academy. She’d breezed back into his – and Milly’s – life like she’d never been away. Maxwell had honestly thought his mother was going to throw her back out of the door. Without opening it first. They’d been back together about three months when she decided to flit off again, and that was the point Maxwell decided enough was enough. For good. Not for him, but for Milly. It wouldn’t be any good for her as she grew up to have some random woman popping in and out of her life on a whim. She hadn’t been near the house – or Maxwell – ever since anyway. He was confused about how he felt. On the one hand, he was utterly crushed. Because somebody he’d been friends with since he was nine, and later in love and had a daughter with had died. Despite their constant on-off relationship, his own feelings had never really changed. And then even when she’d dumped Milly on him and swanned off, he still felt strongly about her. On the other hand, the way she’d destroyed her own life and shown no interest in Milly except when it suited, the way she had insulted his parents amongst other things, he didn’t care that she’d taken a [...]tail of various “highs” and had succumbed to their negative effects. He loved her. He hated her. He missed her. He was glad – in a way – she was gone as it would be less painful for Milly as she grew up. He didn’t really know if he actually knew what he felt. And then that thought hit him. Milly was four. Even though Maxwell and his sister didn’t get along in the slightest – couldn’t stand each other in fact – Milly absolutely adored her. She would eventually begin to wonder why she had her Grandmamma and her Auntie Rosetta, but no Mamma of her own.:: oO How the hell do I explain something like this without breaking her heart when she’s older? Do I explain it at all….? Oo ::He hadn’t even realised he was still playing, as the door chime broke him from his swirling thoughts. He removed the bow from the strings slowly, turning his head to face the door:: Maxwell: A-Aye, who is it? ::Did his voice just crack?:: oO Get a grip man! Oo Erin: Hey Max! It’s only me! ::She sounded chirpy as ever:: Maxwell: Enter ::His voice allowing the door to hiss open:: ::And in she bounced. Even though they’d only known each other as long as they’d been on the station, they’d hit it off the moment they’d met in the lobby. She was without doubt, his best friend. But being fair, he only knew any other people on the station via working at present. At that wasn’t the same. She was still in uniform, and based on the time, had probably finished her shift and come here instead of next door. Knowing that he was back and wanting a chinwag. He replaced the cello on it’s stand, along with the bow, before standing. He walked over and gave her a big hug, before arching a questioning eyebrow at her:: Erin: Why thank you, Max. I would love a drink. ::She smirked at him:: Maxwell: Get yourself sat doon, I’ll get it. ::He went over to the little fridge in the kitchen area, ripping open the small case of Turners. He removed two of the six bottles and cracked off the lids. Closing the fridge again, he wandered back as Erin flopped onto one of the sofas. She grinned as he handed her one of the bottles. He sat in one of the chairs facing her, careful to not sit in his usual knees-apart posture. They chatted for a little while about what they’d both been up to. Eventually, she sat upright, putting the empty bottle on the coffee table:: Erin: Max, what’s the matter? I can tell something is bothering you. ::And so he told her everything. Maxwell wasn’t one for showing a lot of emotions, so the dozen or so tears he shed highlighted to Erin just how bad he was feeling. She stood, walked over and – kneeling beside him – gave him a hug. He returned it, holding on tight as he swallowed everything back. He gently broke the hug off, smiling at her and returning to his padded stool. He picked up the bow and cello, offering her a smile as he began to play one of his favourite pieces.:: Erin: So what are you going to do? About your daughter that is? Maxwell: I’ve two bedrooms. I only need one. So I’m going to speak to the ex-oh about getting Milly out here with me. ::He paused, suddenly feeling a little selfish:: If she wants to that is…. ::Erin offered a smile that said ‘Why wouldn’t she?’ but remained silent, instead sitting back with her eyes closed, listening to the music.:: Maxwell: Anyway! You’ve got plans tonight lassie! Best go get ready for your date wi’ the wee green man… ::She opened one eye, before sitting upright. She fiddled with the think plait that lay across her shoulder before standing up and smoothing down the skirt of her blue-trimmed uniform.:: Erin: ::Laughing:: He’s a Marine, Max. And his name is Carl. ::She poked her tongue out at him:: Maxwell: Marine, sure. A wee green man. ::He said with a wink, and he began to play a romantic piece of music.:: ::She huffed at him, although it was playful, and flounced theatrically to the door:: Erin: Jealousy gets you nowhere, Mr Maxwell! ::She said with a laugh as the door opened.:: Maxwell: He’d best treat you like an Empress! ::He called after her as she disappeared from view:: ::He continued to play, the tune faltering a few moments after the door had closed itself. He began to play a classical nineteenth century piece he’d learnt at the Academy, but after only a couple of bars he stopped again. He closed his eyes briefly before beginning to play a slow, melancholy piece instead.:: Maxwell: Forge on, lad. Forge on. ::Once again his beloved cello found itself back on the stand, and if an inanimate object could look fed up, this cello certainly did as it listed ever so slightly to the side. He went and washed his face, before returning to his desk:: Maxwell: Computer, record and send this message. Computer: Waiting…. Maxwell: Counsellor, I would like to request an appointment with you sometime this week if possible. I could use your…guidance. Ensign Maxwell::He tapped a button on the keypad to end the recording.:: Send to Ensign Reyes. Computer: Message delivered. ::He had the rest of the evening to kill, and he had a great idea about how to spend it. Despite not being on duty, he had still pinned his issue comm-badge to his t-shirt. He grabbed his wallet, stuffing it into the sporran on his kilt, and made for the door. He tapped his badge as the door opened:: Maxwell: =/\= Maxwell to Antraydin. Beer O’Clock big man? =/\= Antraydin? --- Ensign Arturo Maxwell. Tactical Officer. Starbase 118 Operations. O239311AM0.

((Morty's Italian Eaterie - Ashalla Section, StarBase 118 Commercial Sector))(about thirty minutes ago)::It was the dawning calm just before the lunch rush at Morty's Italian Eaterie in the Ashalla District. It was also a beautiful day and the St. Mort family was expecting a fine turnout of customers ready to dine in the simulated sunshine.::Vivain St. Mort: Morty.... Morty... ::She called in a wavering tone while her hands were full of racks of freshly cut pasta:: Come here sweetie.Mortimer St. Mort: What is it sugarcakes? I'm trying to finish the pesto...Vivian: The wine cellar... it's... leaking...Mortimer: Leaking? ::The chopping stopped suddenly:: What do you mean leaking?::The broad shouldered, barrel chested form of Mortimer St. Mort appeared in the archway, his eyes full of careful curiosity at his wife's rather cryptic proclamation.::Vivian: ::She indicated the direction of the cellar floor with a thrust of her elbow:: Look for yourself!::Mortimer gasped. What he found exonerated his wife from being cryptic, but didn't bode well for his wine. A large spreading red stain leaked out from under the doorway. That probably mean something smashed or tipped over - but how? None of the staff were back there...::Mortimer: Who was back there?Vivian: Nobody I could see...::He picked up his big cast iron frying pan and stalked forward, grabbing the door and swinging it open in one mighty heave, baring the intruder to the light of the sun.::Duchess: ::Hiccup::Vivian: What IS that thing?::Mortimer narrowed his eyes. That was a very good question. It was a pig...dog...thing... It rather looked like a targ, but it was tiny and bright pink. And it had chewed open a cask of wine and from the red-stained snout it had been drinking heavily.::Mortimer: It DRANK MY WINE! ::He roared.::::Duchess perked her head up, saw the frypan and sensed danger. In another moment she made a mad dash directly through Mortimer St. Mort's legs and out into the street and towards freedom, leaving only a trail of wine soaked hoof prints behind...::~*~((Jumja Smiles Candy Shop - Ashalla District- StarBase 118 Commercial Center))(about twenty five minutes ago)::Little Sandy Waller loved the Jumja Smiles shop. It wasn't just because her best friend Geno Jinda's family owned the place. It was because it will filled with some of the most colorful, delicious and wonderful candies on the Starbase.She kicked her legs as she and Jinda sat on the picnic table outside the shop giggling about their latest holodeck adventure in the Forest of Imagination when an absolutely adorable little pink doggy wandered up::Sandy: Hello doggy! ::She waved a chubby hand at Duchess::Duchess: ::Gave an adorable little whine and sat down, looking up at the children with big, adorable, begging eyes.::Jinda: It's pink!::Sandy leaned down to pat the mane and Duchess reached forward. She was gentle, but determined to steal the girl's cotton candy::Sandy: Oh! ::She laughed a bit at the melting candy fluff on the targ's snout:: Do you like cotton candy, doggy?::Duchess grunted as if to say 'yes, she liked cotton candy very much.'::Sandy: So cute!::She held her stick downwards, letting Duchess greedily gulp at the fluffy confection.::Jinda: She really likes it! ::Hopping off the picnic table, trying to be oh-so-helpful:: I'll get more!Sandy: Hurry! It's almost gone!::Jinda rushed into the shop, nabbing a massive bag of multi-colored cotton candy from a store room shelf and running back.::Jinda: Here, here! This should keep her busy for a while!::If it kept their cute new pink friend occupied, Jinda would keep on bringing cotton candy until the shop ran out... or her parents noticed...::~*~((Alleyway - Ashalla District - StarBase 118 Ops))(about ten minutes ago)::Fun science fact! A targ's digestive system cannot process sucrose. The common Terran sugar is not present in Klingon habitats and therefore targs never encountered the substance in their natural diets. Sucrose passes directly through the digestive tract in a largely undigested state.::Kimmy: Look, Mommy, Unicorn poop!::Kimmy Kagiso looked up to her mother, waving her hand with delight at the large, fresh pile of rainbow colored dookie.Makena Kagiso stopped dead in her tracks, getting a whiff of the horrendous decomposing scent::Kagiso: Ugh! Kimmy, don't touch that! ::She waved her hand over her nose::Kimmy: But it's magical!Kagiso: Not the kind of magic you want to play with, Kimmy. ::She took a step forward to scoop the little girl up::Kimmy: But, unicorns, Mommy!Kagiso: Kimmy... ::She sighed:: Even the stuff that comes out the bottom end of unicorns isn't something we touch, OK?Kimmy: ::Big wide, innocent eyes:: But unicorns are real, right?Kagiso: Yes, Kimmy ::She sighed, giving in:: Yes they are...~*~((Golden Favor Pawn Shop - Ashalla District - StarBase 118))(five minutes ago)Lenk: Tog, get over here! Check this out!::The lanky young Ferengi nephew of Tog, the owner of the Golden Favor waved his favorite uncle over. Actually, Tog was the only family Lenk had left - his parents had been killed when he was just a child - they had been freighter owners killed on route to Bajor during the Dominion war. Lenk never knew them, but Tog had taught him all the rules of acquisition and how to hear profit in the breeze. And right now Lenk was listening to the silver bells of profit chiming in the wind.::Tog: ::He ambled over to where his nephew was gesticulating:: What? ::Looking down into the small green space behind the shop, he peered at a curiously snoring pink beasty:: Hey, that looks like a tasty dinner!Lenk: Uncle Tog! ::Lenk protested:: Don't you know what that is?Tog: ::Wondering if this was a trick question:: ...Bacon?::Which was quite possibly the best thing to come off of earth. It paired deliciously with beetle paste.::Lenk: ::Sighing:: No, uncle, it's a teacup targ. People pay a fortune for these things...Tog: ::He stopped and his massive ears perked up:: A fortune you say?Lenk: I do say. To the right buyers.Tog: ::Chuckling with good fortune:: Oh, my nephew, I have the right buyers. ::He looked back out into the yard.:: But you, son, you have to get the critter into a cage...::Of course Tog gave him the hard part, but Lenk had always risen to the challenge. He was smart for a Ferengi, and clever for a teenager. He was sure he could figure something out::Lenk: Ok, Uncle... watch this!~*~tbc...~*~Various NPCsCommercial SectorStarBase 118Simmed by: Sal Taybrim

((Conference room - IKS S’Tarahk)) ::Dempok sat, hands gripping the side of his chair as he watched General Crang pick apart the tactical report on one side of the viewscreen. On the other half was an ashen faced looking Romulan carrying out the same task. Toval, that was his name, Admiral of the 9th Republic Fleet and the only one that had offered any sort of communication when the intelligence had been passed on. Captain Taybrim stood behind him, while he'd wanted to change into something smarter than his scorched uniform Dempok had insisted that he hadn't. Both these military hotheads needed to see the toil and hardship with their own eyes, etched into the very fibres he was wearing:: Crang: Arrhimen is dead, the Sienov is destroyed. Good. Toval: Loss of life is always regret... Crang: Don't even try to offer your condolences, Romulan. If it wasn't for your inept security this would never have happened! ::The Romulans visage became the very model of indignant, while Crang spat rage in his usual blowhard manner. It was somehow expected, even with the threat neutralised the stink of blood was in the air:: Toval: We came here under a flag of truce, we will not tolerate such insults. Crang: I still smell Romulan trickery at work. ::Dempok ground his teeth in his mouth, before rising up in his chair:: Dempok: Then don't take it from us, Crang. Take it from him. ::he thumbed towards Sal:: The Federation lost two ships, hundreds of crewmembers trying to protect us both. The Avalon was destroyed, the Albion was destroyed, yet they are not sat here trading insults like petty children! ::There was a pause, a lull in conversation before Toval spoke:: Toval: I would hear the Captain speak, the Republic had nothing to do with this abhorrent set of attacks. ::Sal Taybrim drew in a long breath, taking in the expressions of those speaking. Tempers were high, but not yet flaring and he was trying to balance a diplomatic tone towards Toval with the honesty that was necessary to keep the respect of the Klingon representatives around the table.:: Taybrim: This is the intelligence I know upon the matter. ::he paused and spoke clearly.:: Haz Arrhimen was a Federation criminal and former Starfleet officer. Incited to act by a terrorist act by the Raalaram Ocala on the Federation ship SS Annabelle’s Lament Arrhimen hijacked a Starfleet vessel the USS Stormcrow and announced his plan to release a biological weapon onto the Romulan Valdis colony. The USS Albion, commanded by myself was the response ship. We met with the USS Tribal to engage the Stormcrow. Long story short, the Tribal was badly damaged, the Stormcrow was destroyed and Arrhimen was taken into custody. An unidentified Romulan Warbird decloaked after the Stormcrow was destroyed and the Valdis colony’s safety was ensured as the damaged Albion was leaving the area. No communication nor aggression occurred between the warbird and the Albion, but Haz Arrhimen was beamed directly off the Albion through our badly damaged shielding. ::He paused and let that sink in. The fact that the warbird that arrived did not identify themselves was meaningful. While the Romulans were seen as sneaky by other powers in the quadrant this was largely something that was hung on them by the actions of the minority. A Romulan Military warbird would have hailed and identified itself. Meaning whatever vessel had appeared was almost certainly controlled by the Tal’Shiar instead of the military…:: Crang: So the Romulans kidnapped a confirmed war criminal and what, let him run amuck once more? ::Toval seemed to be drawn to the green PADD handed to him by another officer, scanning through the details:: Toval: It was not a naval ship that took Arrhimen, the reforged Republic has a strong non-aggression treaty with the Federation. Crang: But still, a Warbird took him. Did you try and stop them? ::Crang’s tone had at least changed from purely accusatory to investigative, his ridged brow furrowed as he tried to piece it all together. Dempok knew that behind that ego was a surprisingly shrewd tactician.:: Taybrim: We were in no condition to protest - nor did we have a choice. The warbird re-cloaked and the Albion was allowed to return to Federation space without incident with the remaining survivors of Haz Arrhimen’s crew who remain in Federation custody to this day. There is no further mention of Haz Arrhimen in our intelligence until stardate 239306.14 - over eight months after the destruction of the Stormcrow. Arrhimen attacked the civilian salvage yard on Halgar VII killing seven civilians including the Romulan quartermaster. He stole, with the aid of several Orion Syndicate criminals the Romluan freighter Mohtiri. We believe this is the ship he used to get close enough to board and capture the Sienov. Toval: It was highly likely he was captured by rogue elements looking to facilitate exactly the sort of conflict we’re trying now to prevent. ::Crang snorted derisively:: Crang: ‘Rogue elements’, call them what they are Toval. Once more you’ve failed to keep a leash on the Tal Shiar… ::Another face appeared in the corner of the screen, prompting Dempok to stand up from his chair like someone had delivered an electrical current through the underside of it, the bearded face of the Chancellor regarding everyone with a disapproving glare. Even Toval stayed respectfully silent:: Dempok: ::lowly:: It seems he got my field report. ::It seemed he did. Sal stood as well, mimicking the posture of the others, different and yet respectful all at the same time. When he spoke he offered a single tip of his head.:: Taybrim: Chancellor J’mpok, we are honored by your presence. Crang: Chancellor… this is unexpected. Chacellor J’mpok: Is it? A war brewing on my Empires doorstep wouldn’t draw my attention? I have received your full report Dempok, the matter has been resolved. This continued posturing is achieving nothing. ::he paused:: I have consulted with the Romulan senate regarding these events and we have reached an accord. Dempok: An accord, Chancellor? ::Sal held his breath. This could either be very good news - or very bad news. Judging from J’mpok’s tone and the fact that the Romulan end of the communication hadn’t been suddenly cut he was expecting - or maybe hoping - for good news.:: Chacellor J’mpok: The Senate has agreed to pay reparations for our colonies and provide raw materials for their reconstruction. Considering the hardship they are facing and their already scarce resources, it is an honourable and genuine offer of remorse. Although in return, Crang, you are to assist the Admiral here with flushing out and destroying the last remnants of the blasted and dishonorable Tal Shiar, for both our empires security. ::Dempok fought hard to fight back a grin as the two Military officers on the screen physically balked at the idea, two hotheads being forced to work hand in hand for the betterment of relations.:: Toval: It appears I am being contacted by the Praetor. ::he frowned, someone speaking to him from off screen:: General Crang, it seems we will be working together. I am moving my fleet away from the border to await further instruction. ::Toval dropped from the call leaving Crang biting his tongue hard enough that it looked about ready to fall out of his mouth, smoldering eyes burning into the rest of the conference:: Crang: As you command, Chancellor. We will withdraw. ::He too disappeared from the call, leaving just the large looming face of the leader of the Klingon Empire regarding Sal with a curious gaze:: Chacellor J’mpok: You are the Captain who fought and lost with us? ::Sal turned, facing the Chancellor with an even, open gaze. He had quelled his internal pleasure at watching the fruitful manipulations of two arrogant commanders into doing what was best for both empires.:: Taybrim: I am. ::a nod of assent:: Captain Sal Taybrim of the former USS Albion. Chacellor J’mpok: You fought hard and honourably beside your Klingon allies, and let us deliver a well deserved justice. This is not a debt owed that I nor the council will forget. Taybrim: ::he spoke simply, with an even conviction. The magnitude of this praise was not lost on him, so his words were careful and focused. ::We were proud to fight beside our allies, thank you Chancellor. ::The chancellor left the screen with an approving nod, leaving the bridge even more hushed then usual:: Dempok: Friends in high places indeed, Captain. Taybrim: Indeed, Councilor. ::He nodded, turning slowly towards Dempok.:: I believe this is a most beneficial outcome. ::In fact it was one of the best possible outcomes.:: Dempok: It is. Contrary to how people like Crang and every Warrior that wants to ascend to his place acts, we do not wish war on our people. We will fight it, to the last if provoked, but it is never desired. Taybrim: ::Sal broke his strictly controlled diplomatic stance to offer Dempok a more personal smile. Still formal, but this time there was more of a connection between the remaining speakers.:: On a more personal note, Councilor, thank you. I am glad my crew is still breathing and able to take to the stars once again. And I am honored that this victory came with an ally at our side. ::Dempok paused for a second, reaching into his belt to unsheath the wicked looking D’k tahg from his belt which let out a click as it’s crossguard sprang free. There was a pause, before he turned the dagger hilt-outwards:: Dempok: Take this, Captain. Let it always be a reminder of this battle, more so than the wounds and scars your crew has endured. May it serve you in many more victories to come. ::He accepted without hesitation.:: Taybrim: I am honored, Councilor. I will never forget this battle, the lives lost on both sides and the burning victory forged in sacrifice. May we both live on in honor. ~*~ A JP by: MSNPC Councilor Dempok By Major. Tatash Marine Lead SB118 Operations C239108T10 And Captain Sal Taybrim Commanding Officer StarBase 118 Ops

((Bridge - USS Albion)) ::Power flickered back to the computer console with an electronic groan. Like the battered crew of the Albion, the computer systems were equally unwilling to respond. Fortunately this was a low power profile program; flashing up as a simple text message on the screen. Sal took a step back, standing side by side with Antero and Theo. The three of them together; ready to do the thing a Starfleet captain hopes to never have to do. He glanced at both of them, gave a dry swallow and spoke up.:: Taybrim: Computer, this is Captain Sal Taybrim, requesting security access ::The computer beeped a simple acknowledgement:: Taybrim: Computer… ::He paused feeling the breath in his throat choke a little as he uttered the legendary code. It had changed for newer ships, but the Albion was from a bygone era and her final order retained the classic sequence:: Destruct sequence one. Code one, one A. ::The words flashed up on the screen in simple text. Sal looked towards Theo meaningfully. He could feel the emotions welling up from the engineer as he was set to do the thing that was most anathema to an engineer: destroy the ship that he fought so hard to protect.:: :: Putting aside the conflicting feelings swirling around in his mind, Theo spoke in an even tone. :: Whittaker: Computer this is Lieutenant Commander Theo Whittaker, Executive Office. Destruct sequence two. Code one, one A, two B. ::Again the computer flashed the code up as simple stark text.:: ::Eyes on him, Antero swallowed hard and offered the two men a solemn nod. He placed a hand on a nearby console, a small goodbye. The Albion had been good to them, and to say that he had not grown attached to the old girl would be a lie..:: Flynn: ::His voice hollow:: Computer., This is Lieutenant Antero Flynn, Chief Helm Officer. Destruct sequence three. Code one B, two B, three... ::The computer acknowledged immediately as three little words popped up on the display. Destruct Sequence Engaged.:: Computer: ::The voice was faint, and yet it cut through the darkness with a terrible pitch:: Destruct sequence completed and engaged. Awaiting final code for one minute countdown. ::Sal closed his eyes momentarily and spoke with a deep heavy-hearted confidence:: Taybrim: Code zero… zero… zero… destruct… ::One last breath. There was no going back from here:: ...zero. Computer: Destruct sequence is activated. Whittaker: Well…. there we go. :: looking around the darkened bridge…. What was left of it. :: Goodbye, ship. ::Sal moved towards the command chair and put his hand on the back. There was enough time for a few moments of sentiment, before the transporter beam would whisk them away. He looked up for a few long seconds. If he had to destroy a ship, at least she fell saving thousands of lives, preventing war and saving a quadrant. And at least she was sent off by two of the finest officers Sal ever had the pleasure of serving with.:: Taybrim: I will miss the old girl. ::He offered as the computer started a quiet countdown.:: Flynn: ::His voice calm, solemn.:: She was true to the end, wasn’t she? Taybrim: She was. ::He offered a silent nod of agreement. HIs next words were quiet, hoarse:: Good bye, old girl. Whittaker: :: quietly, looking at Flynn and Taybrim :: I’ll see you on the other side. ((Observation port - S’Tarahk)) ::The transporter took them just as the last goodbye was uttered. There were placed by one of the observation ports, looking out as the seconds ticked down and the Albion was consumed in a controlled explosion, turning from charred steel to brilliantly burning gold.:: Taybrim: I’ll recommend to Starfleet that they honor her name. Maybe someday the Albion-A will fly back to StarBase 118. ::He mused, watching her crumble to ashes in the backdrop of the flaming nebula.:: Flynn: The Albion-A ::He smiled softly at the thought.:: As soon as they’re ready to trust us with another one. Whittaker :: wryly :: If they ever trust us. :: he looked to Taybrim, uncertainty clouding his eyes :: What now? ::A curious question - what ship would Starfleet send them, if any? StarBase 118 still had the Aegis, and there were plenty of ships in the sector that could serve if needed. Would they commission another ship to fill the gap?:: Taybrim: ::With a darkened humor:: With our luck we’ll get a freighter… Whittaker: :: Or a garbage scow. Taybrim: I’ll remember that. ::His buoyant humor faltered and he paused for a moment, saying nothing. He lay a hand on his officer’s shoulders - a silent show of support as the massive Klingon cruiser moved off into the black.:: ::Who knew was the future would bring?:: ~*~ A JP by: Lieutenant Antero Flynn Chief Helm Officer Starbase 118 Ops C239205AF0 And Lieutenant Commander Theo Whittaker Executive Officer Starbase 118 Operations C239203TW0 And Captain Sal Taybrim Commanding Officer StarBase 118 Ops E239010ST0

((USS Albion - Deck 18 - Main Shuttlebay 2)) ::Tyler and Mirra had found a moment of respite from what had been a day from hell. They both knew it was fleeting, as the battle was far from over. It always surprised him how just a few minutes with her could undo hours of stress and hardship and "reset" his mental state. Today, more than most, it was a very necessary thing.:: Kelly: I need to get back in the fight...::He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.:: But I promise, as soon as this is over, I'll find you. ::He paused.:: I love you, Mirra. ::He had gone with the more subtle peck on the cheek, not wanting to embarrass her as she went about her chiefly duties, but Mirra had other plans. She pulled him close and brought him into a longer, more passionate kiss. Like always, it sent waves of contentment and positivity radiating throughout his body.:: Ezo: ::releasing him:: I love you too. And you better come find me. Or I'll hunt you down. ::smirking:: Apparently I am quite scary...::grinning:: ::He leaned in conspiratorially, with a smirk.:: Kelly: Oh, yeah? ::He raised an eyebrow.:: I'll take my chances, I don't mind a little necessary roughness. ::She fixed him a with a [...] scowl and shooed him away playfully.:: Ezo: Yeah, yeah. Point taken. Don't you have a bad guy to hunt or something? ::At first her words brought a smile to his face, but gradually his expression hardened. The brief glimmer of happiness and hope had been a welcome respite from the reality of their situation, but they were still in dire straits.:: Kelly: Yeah, I d- ::His comm badge chirped, cutting him off mid-sentence.:: Taelon: =/\= Commander Kelly? =/\= ::He shrugged his shoulders and pointed at his badge in the universal "Sorry, but I've got to take this call" gesture and moved away.:: Kelly: =/\= Go for Kelly.=/\= ::The voice on the other end of the line sounded excited, maybe a little worried.:: Taelon: =/\= This is Ens - Lieutenant Taelon. I understand you’ve just come back but we need your help in the deck 15 weapons control room as soon as possible - can you make it there? =/\= ::He nodded as he spoke, despite the fact that Taleon couldn't see it. He began moving towards the Deck 15 at a jog.:: Kelly: =/\= I'm on my way. ::Beat:: What's going on?=/\= Taelon: =/\= The plan is to rig several torpedoes with a combination of their antimatter load and tri-cobalt and then detonate them at a careful point in the nebula, which should ignite it. But it seems the control teams are over taxed. Can you supervise? I’ve sent the needed schematics to the team on deck 15. ::He paused.:: We don’t have much time, b-but if you’ve any ideas for improvement on the layout, it’d be appreciated… =/\= ::Tyler's eyes went a bit wide at Taleon's explanation. He had gained extensive experience with conventional explosives throughout his career, he had even managed to become certified in Explosive Ordinace Disposal (E.O.D.), but this sounded anything but conventional. What he was describing would be some kind of anti-matter/nuclear fission hybrid explosion, Tyler could only guess at the magnitude but he knew it would be devastating.:: Kelly: =/\= I.. uh.. ::He stammered a little, flustered by the idea of what they were attempting.:: I'll see what I can do.:: ::He began running faster, wanting to get involved as soon as possible.:: Taelon: =/\= Thank you, Commander. The Captain wants this done as fast as possible...if possible…we’re really no longer than 5 minutes til deployment. =/\= ::Tyler's jaw would've dropped it wasn't huffing and puffing a bit as he ran to the control room at full speed. It was clear that Captain Taybrim wanted the Sienov gone, no matter the cost.:: Kelly:=/\= Understood. Kelly out.=/\= ((USS ALBION - DECK 15 - Torpedo Control Room)) ::Tyler had arrived at the control room, just before they closed the final panels on each of the modified torpedoes. Everyone was in a rush, weapons officers shouted status updates back and forth as the technicians tried frantically to calibrate the final settings on the monstrous weapons. He basically only had time to view Taleon's schematics and confirm that the Torpedoes matched what he was looking at. As he was staring down at one of the monstrously destructive devices, he felt a slight chill run down his spine. He wanted Arrhimen dead. Irrefutably, irrevocably, irrecoverably dead. And these torpedoes looked like they would do the job. The trouble was, even if the wounded Albion turned to limp away at best possible speed after launching, there was an uncomfortably high probability they'd take catastrophic damage as well. Images of the Avalon's frozen corpses came to his mind, of Tatash's destroyed fighter, of the destroyed colonies where Klingon civilians, families, children... had all lived. Arrhimen had killed all of them and would go on to kill countless more. He cleared his throat, fortifying his resolve for what might be the final time. He turned to the lead technician.:: Kelly: All clear, Crewman. ::He pointed to the torpedoes.:: Button them up and get them armed and loaded in the tubes. ::The technicians seemed a bit dazed. They began to slowly carefully lift the torpedo onto the rack. They knew what they were doing would have incredibly destructive results and Tyler could see that they were worried. He decided to offer a few choice words of encouragement.:: Kelly: QUICKLY! ::He smacked one of the torpedoes hard on it's casing resulting in a loud clang.:: As long as you built them right, and you better have, they won't go off accidentally! The Captain ordered us to be ready in five minutes and that was 4.5 minutes ago! ::He helped them heft the last torpedo onto the firing rack.:: See, that wasn't that hard. Taybrim: =/\= Kelly are you reading us? We need a good clean shot into the nebula to ignite it. This is all on you and Diego now...=/\=Beyett: =/\= ? ::A solemn look the weapons crewman nearby.:: Kelly: =/\= Understood. ::He pointed to the weapons officer, and motioned for him to get out of his chair, before planting himself in it.:: We're locked and loaded down here, awaiting your command. ::Tyler quickly tapped out the command that opened a full time two-way comm-link with the bridge.Taybrim: ::He felt the need to give one last reminder. His voice was calm, commanding, like a rock one could lean on.:: =/\=Captain to crew. In less than a minute we will ignite the nebula. There is no way we'll outrun the shockwave. We're in the best position to endure it - but I want you all to secure yourselves for impact. Decks 10-19 have thirty seconds to complete evacuation. Make your preparations.=/\= ::A momentary silence fell over the weapons room. They all knew they were on Deck 15, right in the middle of the decks to be evacuated, but they also knew they had a critical job to do. Tyler, understood exactly why those specific decks were being evacuated. They were going to reduce the shields coverage area to just the saucer. With a smaller coverage area, they could substantially increase the power of the shields. That, of course, meant the rest of the ship, including the deathly silent Torpedo control room on Deck 15 would be completely unshielded. It didn't matter. Arrhimen had to be stopped. The non-standard nature of the cobbled together torpedoes meant that someone had to be here to oversee the launch. Tyler kept his eyes on the display in front of him, ready to work his side of the torpedo launch at any second.:: Kelly: You heard the Captain! Get out of here, now! ::Several of the crewman and weapons officers immediately bolted, wasting no time in saving their own skins. The officer who was supposed to be on duty at the moment, an Andorian Lieutenant whose station Tyler was sitting in now, hesitated a moment. Tyler's eyes drifted up to a small holo-frame sitting on top of the console, showing an image of a female Andorian cradling a tiny antennaed baby with a warm smile on her face. The Lieutenant's voice broke the silence.:: Chiron: I'm... on duty..Sir. Protocol says that I cannot leave without relief.... ::Tyler snatched up the picture frame, and handed it back to Chiron. He glanced back momentarily at the Andorian. A look of surprise played across his face.:: Kelly: You're relieved. Go! ::He grumbled, not loud enough for the man to hear as he made his escape.:: Name your next kid after me or something... ::With Chiron gone, he was completely alone. The seconds stretched into hours as Tyler waited for the order to come through from the bridge. As he sat in the deafening silence of the torpedo room, his thoughts turned to his life. All that he had accomplished and all that he had failed. He thought of his mother, of his friends, and most of all about Mirra. He hoped with all of his heart that she was safely in sickbay, and not still in the shuttlebay with Avalon survivors. Suddenly, without warning, Taybrim's voice came over the open comm line.:: Taybrim: Beyett, Kelly: Fire! ::Tyler felt all of his muscles tense as he waited for Beyett to send the launch command.::Beyett:? ::Quickly, his fingers flew over the control panel. Firing, triggering the reloading procedure, firing again.:: Kelly: Confirmed. Firing. ::The machinery behind him thumped. One Away. ::Another thump.:: Two away. ::A final thump:: Three away. ::He watched on the viewscreen as the torpedoes streaked towards the nebula, trailing burning plasma as they went. He had the unshakable feeling that he was living the end of his story, that the massive flash he was about to see would be the closing image before they rolled the credits on his short and interesting life. From somewhere deep within the nebula, the torpedoes ignited one by one. Together the emitted a massive blinding flash that Tyler knew would have instantly blinded him if it wasn't filtered through the monitor he was viewing. As if on cue, the monitor winked out, apparently overloaded by the massive amount of ultraviolet energy that bombarded it.:: Kelly: oO Well, this is it, and I'm not even in uniform. Oo ::He looked down at the EVA suit he had never changed out of after the Avalon expedition. Instantly, he realized what that meant, and he bolted for the nearest replicator. All he needed was a helmet and... He recalled the pattern for his EVA helmet, and had just retrieved it when the Albion began to shake violently. The lights dimmed, then winked out. Red lights tried to come on, but flickered unsteadily as a sad alarm Klaxxon mewled like a dying cat. He managed to get his helmet on his head and locked in place just in time to be unceremoniously thrown across the room. He crashed into one of the walls of the small room, back first, before being thrown the opposite direction and then finally crumpling to the floor like a discarded ragdoll. The emergency lights flickered and then even they were out. Tyler's shoulder felt odd, and judging by the strange way his arm was hanging, it had been dislocated. Lying on the floor, Tyler groaned audibly to himself as he felt a variety of new and exciting pains across his battered body.:: Kelly: Urrrgh....god damn...Risian fly-boy...can't hold her steady for... uggh.... nothing... ::But as beat up as he felt, he wasn't dead. The explosion had come and gone and it seemed as though the Albion was still mostly intact. A wave of relief washed across him, after being so certain that he a was going to die, he couldn't believe that he'd survived. He began to laugh a little, crazily, for no good reason, each chuckle causing his battered (broken?) ribs to hurt. Then he heard something that stopped his laughter in it's tracks.:: COMPUTER: WARP CORE BREACH IMMINENT! ::KLAXXON:: WARP CORE BREACH IMMINENT! ::The sound was coming from somwhere far away, probably from a section of the deck that still had power. Struggling, Tyler got to his feet and began to do his best approximation of a run. He limped as fast as he could, knowing full well that he couldn't outrun a warp core breach. Still, he passed a dead turbolift and entered the maintenance ladder shaft. He climbed as fast as he could up towards the shielded section with his one good arm, but it was too late. He heard the "THUNK" of the warp core being ejected followed by the horrible metal rending sound of a massive section of the Albion's aft being torn away. Tyler hooked an arm through the ladder and turned to see the bulkhead behind him begin to tear away.:: Kelly: Oh shi- ::A tool box hit him in the back, knocking the wind out of him and cutting him off mid-word. He heard the sound of the Albion's oxygen being sucked past him as the tear in the hull got bigger. His grip on the ladder loosened as all manner of debris flew past him, battering him even further on it's way out into the vacuum beyond. He felt his fingers slipping off the ladder as he leaned quickly out of the way of an oncoming console that had been ripped free from the deck beyond. He risked a quick glance at the tear that had become a massive gaping hole in the secondary hull of the Albion. Then he felt his grip fail and shot out into space like a cork out of a wine bottle.:: TBC ======//////======>LtCmdr. Tyler KellySecurity OfficerSb118 OpsO238811CD0

Congratulations to Flynn and Merrick R'Ven!!!

((Starbase 118 Ops, Operations)) (Day of the Party and Awards Dinner) *OOC: A little long but should be enjoyable none the less.* ::Baylen had been sitting up in Ops watching the reports of the Flight Officer while he had gone to lunch, This was not his normal cup of tea, there was far more that he should be doing. Station traffic was pretty run of the mill but while he running names against the station watch list there was a name that caught his eyes and made him jump straight up. He looked at the screen with a big huge grin for several minutes. While he watched the Runabout approaching the Star Base, a Runabout with Baylen’s best friend from his youth. Standing up and pull a Operations Ensign over to the Flight Ops station. Baylen pointing at the station and the incoming Runabout.:: Anders: Ensign Morgan, that Runabout there, it has VIP docking, it bumps all other incoming ship. ::Looking at Morgan:: Are we clear? Morgan: Aye sir, Shuttle Port 12 fine sir? ::She looked at the runabout in some confusion.:: But sir there are no known VIP’s on that runabout. Anders: There is a VIP on the shuttle make no mistake, a VIP for me, and that will be very good, let the flight officer know I have gone to greet an incoming guest. Morgan: Very well sir. Anders: Too bad I did not know he was coming, I would have had the Statbase 118th Marine Corps Band waiting in the shuttle port. ::Baylen was grinning was he got out of Ashley’s way.:: ::Ashley Morgan took the station as Baylen walked to the Turbolift and departed Main Upper Operations. As he rode the lift down the 200 decks he smiled and thought about all the times sitting on the white sandy beaches and the crystal clear ocean, while they rubbed wax on there boards for hours, while looking at the visitors and talking about how funny some looked and how good some looked and and how out of place others were. All the times the would sneak and place a Horgon next to some stranger and sit back and watch with big grins on their young faces. (( Runabout Bastille - Outside Starbase 118 )) ::Antero sat at the helm, leaning lazily against the wall of the runabout, sure that he would start hitting his head against it at any moment. He had the expression of a zombie and was watching the comm traffic and praying it would all be over soon.:: Honeycutt: ::Laughing:: Well it turns out the plasma coil was wrapped around the isolinear rod in such a way that it was coming through with a negative charge! Oh man, you should have seen the look on his face. ::Sobering:: Hey, are you listening? Flynn: Hm..? Oh, yeah. Of course I am. ::He sat up a little straighter:: That's definitely the most interesting story I have ever heard about isolinear plasma....charges? Honeycutt: ::Smiling:: You know if you paid more attention you might learn something. Flynn: Sorry, what was that? ::He shot the Engineer a wink.:: Honeycutt: Have it your way. ::He looked toward the main viewer at the busy Starbase:: How much longer until we dock? Flynn: Were in the que but they are pretty backed up. ::He leaned forward to check the docking status, tilting his head in confusion at a notification.:: Something about you I should know Honeycutt? Honeycutt: What do you mean? Flynn: They gave us VIP priority. ::His hands went to the controls and he moved them into position at Port 12:: Better let everyone know to grab their gear, won't be long now. ::As Honeycutt moved to the back of the Runabout, Antero wondered silently what their special clearance was about. Whatever the case, he had no objection. He sent proper notification to approach control that the vessel was ready for docking, and confirmation was received almost immediately and the space doors opened. With the system locked on, the vessel had a short trip along the directional array and before long the Risian was slinging his pack over his shoulder, off to complete his final check in.:: ((Starbase 118, Docking Port 12, Deck 44)) The turbolift doors parted and Baylen stepped off the lift and walked right across to the Shuttle Port just as the Runabout set down on PAD Five, Baylen watched as other shuttles came into the large 14 deck tall shuttle hangar bay, others turned and went into docking ports. Baylen walked over to the Port side hatch of the runabout as a few flight deck hands pushed over a set of steps and watched as a few Officers got off the ship, then there was Antero Flynn, stepping off with his bags. Baylen just beamed, Overcome with joy to seeing his old friend.:: Anders: Lt. Antero Flynn, What the hell are you doing in this part of space, much less in that uniform. ::Smiling:: ::The last one out, Antero was surprised to hear his name as he exited the craft. He turned and his eyes went wide, it had been several years, but he recognized the officer instantly. He dropped his bag practically tackled him in a hug before pulling back, hands on his shoulders.:: Flynn: Baylen?! No way! When did you join Starfleet? Anders: I joined the fleet six years ago. Now I am the Mission Specialist of the Station. I did not think anything would drag you away from beaches of Suraya Bay? ::It dawned on Antero that he might not have heard about what happened to his younger brother Aurelio. This was not the time, but he still answered honestly.:: Flynn: Oh you know, had to find that next great adventure. The waves only get so big on Risa. ::He grinned:: Anders: Well that still does answer my question, what brings you to Starbase 118. ::Grinning and throwing an arm around his neck and shoulder and picking up his other bag with his free hand as he walked Antero out of the shuttle port.:: Flynn: I volunteered to transfer a reassigned runabout from the Apollo, my home away from Risa. ::He looked to his old friend, happy to have the person he used to confide in the most.:: I actually have a tiny bit of an ulterior motive. Anders: You an Ulterior Motive? Never… ::Grinning:: Flynn: ::Smiling sheepishly:: It’s not like me but, I sort of fell for a guy on my last assignment. Anders: Oh really, that is great. I have meet someone myself, I really like him a lot. He is such a sweetheart, and very sexy. Flynn: Oh yeah? I’ll be interested in hearing more. ::He shrugged:: Things have hit a bit of a bump for us. Transfers tore us apart and we never really talked about it. I figured it’s time for some resolution, maybe see if there is a way we can keep things going. Anders: ::Smiling:: Cheers to that. Shall we head out of here? ::The two stepped into the turbolift.:: Flynn: You bet, I’ve got some time to kill. Lead the way. Anders: Did you arrange for quarters, I have a guest room, or are you staying? Flynn: I’m all set, thanks. Anders: ::Baylen started to Laugh at random: Sorry I just thought about those Tellarites. Flynn: Tellarites? Anders: You know the four that was skinny dipping in mavgos bay? We snuck out on to the beach and stole their clothing and hid them in the woods. Flynn: ::Laughing:: Oh, man. How could I forget! We definitely knew how to keep ourselves entertained. Anders: ::Smiling:: We watched them all day running around naked looking for there clothes and women running off and screaming. Flynn: It was like staring at the sun, I think i'm still a little scarred from it. Anders: ::making a funny face:: I am too, I have never seen four butt cheeks on anything before. Flynn: ::Chuckling:: Reminds me of the time I took Illona tandem skydiving and we landed in the middle of a nudist colony populated by some Yridian crew. She still can’t look a Yridian in the eye… Anders: That is funny. ::Smiling:: Flynn: ::He paused, suddenly considering:: How did you know I was here anyway? My arrivals don't exactly make the news... Anders: Oh, well I was in Flight Control in Ops and saw your name in the runabout crew and you had a two hour wait, so I thought I would fix that. ::Grinning:: I bumped two Captains for you. Flynn: Good to see you still have my back. ::grinning:: I guess it’s safe to say I have connections in the fleet. Anders: You want to go get a drink, or are you in a hurry to go find this man of yours? ::Antero felt butterflies at the mention of the conversation he had come here for. A couple drinks sounded like the perfect remedy.:: Flynn: Definitely a drink. If i’m not pulling you away from anything…? Anders: Not at all, we are on leave I was just lending a hand up on ops. Flynn: ::Smiling:: Great. So where do all the cool kids go to put their feet up around here? Anders: Well the Promenade has a place I like called Cabo Breeze Flynn: Yeah? Is it any good? Anders: I is a lot like the old Mole Hole back home, very beach resort like but not too overdone. Flynn: Sounds right up our alley! Anders: ::Pressing a button on the lift.:: Promenade Beach section. Flynn: ::Smirking:: The important question, is are they as tolerant of spontaneous tabletop musical numbers? Anders: ::Blushing a little:: Hey I am part of the Command Staff here, I am not so sure I could get away with that here. ::Laughing:: Well maybe after a few Rums I might be talked into doing a musical number. ::Cutting Antero and silly look.:: Flynn: Sounds like we're going to be drinking some rum. ::He winked with a wicked grin:: Assuming they are any good. ::The Turbolift dropped into the clear tube part of the Promenade, you can all five cities and all there highrises. The bay in the middle of them all with branches of water that flow out between the cities with bridges over them. The bay was full of sailboats coming and going. The lift hit the water line and the two went under the water line to the subway like station below the Promenade and the lifts moved and adjusted and came back up and opened up at the beach.:: ((Promenade, Beach Area Cabo Breeze)) http://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php/Cabo_Breeze Anders: ::Pointing:: Cabo Breeze, they have some Rum Punches that are awesome. ::The pilot looked the place over and nodded his approval.:: Flynn: Looks like they did a good job of capturing a nice beach vibe. ::The two started to walk to the bar it was like a Bamboo Hut, with a palm leaf roof. That sat on the edge of the beach and a deck that hung over the water. The two walked up and Baylen sat down some the bags he was carrying on the floor next one of the outside tables. He walked up to bar and picked up two drinks that are in coconut shells with little umbrellas hanging out of them and tons a fresh fruit and walked back and handed one to Antero and took a seat.:: Anders: One of my favorite places off duty, I come here often. ::Smiling:: So tell me about their person you are here to see? Flynn: ::Taking his drink gratefully.:: An officer I met on Columbia. Really a sweetheart, and his hair had magical powers of always looking awesome. Couldnt resist! ::He paused in reflection:: I admit, it’s the first time I ever really connected with someone at that level. Anders: Oh really, I just can't see you chasing after someone. ::Smiling:: What a change, I guess we all do finally grow up, even if we don't want to. ::Baylen took a large drink of his Rum and Fruit juice and smiles:: oO That is cool, Theo was on the Columbia, I wonder he knows him. Oo Flynn: Grow up? ::He took a big drink from his Coconut shell.:: Lets not get hasty. Anders: Ok so not growing up then, but being more open to more than oneself maybe? ::Grinning:: Perfect hair huh? ::Baylen ran his hands through his hair and frowned:: I wish I could say that about mine. ::Laughing.:: Flynn: Hey you do alright, but like me you actually have to put work into maintaining a nice mane. ::He smiled:: So tell me something about this fellow that caught your eye. Anders: Well, I first meet him on the Bridge of the Albion, it was odd because he was glowing, he was so warm and radiated a white light then I noticed he was just standing in front of a light beam on the bridge, but he was so beautiful he almost took my breath away. On top of that he saved my life. He jumped on top of me in the torpedo room and knocked me to the ground and laid on top of me as a plasma fire raged over head. And you remember be telling you my fantasy about something along those those lines. ::Baylen leaned back and took another drink almost lost in the memory.:: So you know me, I flirted while he lay on top of me with the fire over head. ::Smiling:: Flynn: ::Leaning forward, looking amazed:: Wow, sounds like quite a catch. If only we could combine these two gentlemen we might have one hell of a specimen. ::He smiled:: Though I have a feeling you would agree that our own respective individuals are perfect just as they are. ::Baylen smiled and nodded at the Bar Tender and help up his hand with two fingers up. A few seconds later a female in a grass skirt walked over and placed two large drinks on the table and nodded and left.:: Anders: I would say that would be about right. ::Grinning:: Early this morning he saved my little pug from being cooked. ::Smiling:: I would have died if I lost Baxter. ::Taking a big sip.:: How are your Parents doing? I was thinking about Hewitt the other day he was always so much nicer than my dad? Flynn: ::Adopting a look of puzzled amusement:: Don’t they always say that saving a pug is the key to true love? ::He shrugged with a small smile and looked away evasively, not sure he was ready darken their enjoyable reunion.:: They are okay I guess... Anders: ::Baylen could pick up the fact that Antero did not want to talk about family at this moment. Risians has a small amount of Empathic abilities but it was much stronger Risian to Risian.:: Did you say you are on the Apollo? A friend of mine the this Ship's X.O., Alex and I go way back. I went the Academy with her Commanding Officer Kali for that matter. ::He hoped that was a good change of subject.:: Flynn: ::Brightening.:: Oh yeah? I guess I’m more connected than I thought! ::He grinned:: I’ll be sure to do some name dropping as soon as the opportunity presents itself. Anders: I hope it does not land you in the brig. ::Grinning, he picked up the two empty coconut shells and held them up to chest and did a little dance in his chair, with a stupid look on his face as he could feel the rum in his body.:: I have no idea why I just did that. Flynn: ::Laughing:: Oh man, it’s just like old times. It really is great to see you. Thanks for this. Anders: Anytime you are in this area feel free and drop in we can do sleepovers and PJ parties like when we were kids ::Grinning:: Flynn: Count on it. I won’t bother arranging quarters. :: He smirked:: We can even get up early and watch cartoons in our underwear again. Anders: Oh my that is really going back. The “Risian Dress Whites.” : : But sounds awesome… As long as we don't have to eat those nasty eggs with green sauce on them. ::Making a funny face.:: Hey!!! I got an invite from the Station Commander for a big function tonight in the Command Holodeck, we are doing winter sports and such with dinner and award. I would love it if you can come? I can introduce you to guy I have been talking about. Flynn: I do have some paperwork to file over this vessel reassignment. ::He paused and then smiled:: But what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t stop in at least to say hello. Anders: That would be most awesome. ::Baylen looked up at the artificial sun light beaming down on him and Antero.:: To bad we don't have our swim trunks, we could go Surfing. They have some awesome waves that break beautiful out there. There is also some great caves and reefs down there I love to explore while Scuba Diving. Flynn: Oh man, it’s been too long since I had even a taste of ocean. ::He looked at his childhood friend with resolution:: Next time i’m on the base, nothing stops this from happening. Anders: Agreed, we can make a full weekend of it, I can use a friend of mines sailboat and we can camp on the boat all weekend, take tanks out with us and catch our food, there are lots of lobsters out there with our name all over them. Then grill them and drink on the deck of the boat. This time I will sail it though. Last time I went sailing with you we were off the coast of Suraya Bay in the Gaxlin divide on my dad's boat and you wanted to see how fast the boat would go, Next thing I remember was the stren coming up and the bow going down and the Gaxlin ocean hitting my face as we flipped four times. ::Smiling:: And we had to swim back home, a five hour swim I might add. ::Baylen stood up and walked over to the bar and handed the bartender his Federation Credit Disk. He waited to make sure it was all good and then walked back over to Antero and tossed him a t-shirt.:: Anders: I got you a shirt to remember the day. ::Smiling and tossing it to Antero.:: I guess I will let you go get your paperwork done. But I look forward to seeing you in a few hours at holodeck 4. ::Baylen walked away quickly before he got sucked into having another drink and showing up to the awards dinner drunk. But as he walked from the bar he was very happy at seeing his oldest friend, and being able to catch up a little with him.:: Anders: oO It will be fun getting to introduce him to Theo tonight. So long as Antero does not try and put the moves on him with those cunning way of his. How many dates have I lost to Antero now, too many to count. Oo ::Smiling ::Baylen smiled and walked to the Turbolift and made his way back to Ops. He walked out and nodded at a few people and then made his way into his office and laid down on the sofa to let the Rum settle for a moment. Before he had to get ready for the Awards Dinner.:: * To Be Continued............ */Wishing you Fair Winds and following Seas.../* *Lt. Commander Baylen M. Anders* Mission Specialist Fleet Operations 118th Fleet *Star Base 118* http://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php/Anders,_Baylen ID: R238606GH0 */~The two most powerful warriors are patience and time.~/* AND * **Lt. JG Antero Flynn* Helm Officer USS Apollo - A C239205AF0

Mirra sat in the semi empty shuttle compartment with her hands folded in her lap. She rested her head against the window and looked out to the to the stars. She was enjoying the quiet. She expected it would be a much different environment once she reached the Starbase. Her last shuttle ride was a bit more intense. The very angry Klingon in the seat across from her was broadcasting like a long range radio tower and although she had experience with what she called "Open book broadcasters" and plenty of Betazoid training to tune out background thoughts, Even a low level telepath would be on edge. Mirra tucked a errant strand of her auburn hair behind her ear and smoothed a non existent wrinkle out of her shirt. She thought back on what brought her here. Her childhood friend, Melora. Her best friend on Betazoid. They were born two minutes apart and that was the longest they were ever separated. But that all changed when Melora turned 10 and started having daily headaches. Everyone assumed it was just an early onset of her telepathic abilities, then the coughing, shortness of breath, and fatigue came. It wasn't long before she saw her best friend slip away. Darnay's disease. Terminal, and devastating. The loss of her friend still stung, but the helplessness she felt at the time awoke in her a new purpose. She was going to become a doctor, she would help people, she would do everything in her power to heal. The gentle bump of the shuttle docking brought her back to the present. She was eager to begin her new assignment.