Jo Marshall

The long awaited marriage on the USS Gorkon! Beautifully written and absolutely draws you in from the off. Now, to the Reception! ---- ((Former Chapel, Reichsburg Cochem, Earth)) ::It was a small gathering of people in the castle's old chapel. Quinn's father, of course, shepherding Dylan and Amelia. Her elder brother and sister were there too, accompanied by their spouses and the small horde that was her nieces and nephews — including the eldest, Ryan, who had elected to wear his dress uniform to the occasion, much to her sister's dismay. Walter's family was smaller; his mother and step-father, and his indomitable grandmother. ::Petra Bjarnadottir was there as Walter's witness, in a sunny yellow dress that befit the season, her hair tumbling over one shoulder in thick curls. Not a surprising choice, all told. He had a soft spot for the fiery administrative officer, as he did for anyone who could legitimately hold their own against him. The pair had met as members of the infamous Yarahla Nine, and it had been to Walter's ship that Petra had first sought refuge on when her marriage had begun to fall apart. ::On the other side was Jo Marshall, who had only managed to stop smiling within the last five minutes. Her hair down for once, the waves of blonde reached her shoulders and flown down over her tea dress, the cut falling just below her knees. A friend to both, this time there solely for the bride; her commanding officer, and a friend through the trials and tribulations weathered together. Hands clasped in the small of her back, unable to fully leave the officer behind, she glanced over at Petra and shot the woman a quick wink. ::Then of course, there was the bride and groom themselves. Walter wore a navy three-piece suit, waistcoat and tie in dove grey, and he wore it well. Neatly pressed, shoes shined to a mirror polish, he was as perfectly turned out as it was possible to be. Quinn stood beside him, her dress in shades of silver and sky blue, the delicate chiffon embroidered and beaded with flowers. Her hair was swept up and away from her face, but otherwise left to fall in loose waves about her shoulders. ::Leading the ceremony was a local officiant, Miriam Schulte. With a head of short, white curls and a twinkle in her grey eyes, she was clearly a woman who loved her job. With the bride and groom stood in front of her, the guests seated and (more or less, in the case of the younger children) settled, she began.:: Schulte: Family and friends of Walter and Quinn; welcome to their wedding ceremony this afternoon at Reichsburg Cochem. In this place, high above the busy town below, we take ourselves out of the usual routines of daily living to witness a unique moment in their lives. Today they join together in the union of marriage and to all their guests, they are happy to share this moment with you. Because you are the ones who love, support and know them so well, it is only fitting that you are the ones to share this once-in-a-lifetime moment with them. ::Her accent was almost identical to Walter's, though stronger for remaining in the lands of her birth. Warmth exuded from her every word, genuine in her delight.:: Schulte: Walter and Quinn are pleased to have their parents and children in the front row, close by for the ceremony. Quinn thanks Stephen for providing her with opportunity possible and for being the best father anyone could ask for. ::Glancing over her shoulder, Quinn saw her father swallow as he smiled at her, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat.:: Walter appreciates all the love and support Annalise and Daniel have given him over the years. ::Where his temperament had come from his grandmother, it was clear where Walter had got his looks from. His mother had a head of luxurious, pale blonde hair, swept into an elegant chignon for the wedding, and the same piercing blue eyes as her son. Annalise smiled at him, squeezing the hand of the man stood beside her, Walter's step-father Daniel Wolff.:: Schulte: A wedding day is often a day when couples miss those no longer with them. For Quinn and Walter, there are family members whose memories they hold dear. Walter's sister Emilie passed away some years ago; he misses her very much and holds her always in his heart and mind. Quinn would like to take a moment to remember her mother; she wishes Sarah could have met Walter, and knows she would have been happy for them both. And so it is that our couple present themselves to be married; with fond memories to brighten the day, and surrounded by the people they love the most. ::If she was honest, when it came to her mother Quinn wasn't sure of any such things. But she knew that the sentiment was something that would delight her father to hear, and so into the ceremony it had gone.:: Schulte: As our couple prepared for this part of this wedding celebration, they reflected on what brought them together, and what keeps them together. A shared career, shared interests, a shared stubbornness, ::a quiet chuckle rippled through the guests, while the bride and groom shot wry grins at one another,:: and through it all, an implicit acceptance of the other as an individual, as well as a partner. It is this mutual respect and understanding for one another that led them to select "On Marriage" by Kahlil Gibran as the reading for their ceremony, which will be read by Walter's grandmother, Else Brunsig. ::At the mention of her name, a slim, elegant woman stepped up to the lectern. She had a strong jaw, severe blue eyes, ice-white hair and a voice that made everyone sit or stand a little straighter. A formidable woman and a serving judge, Else commanded the attention of the room with ease.:: E. Brunsig: "Love one another, but make not a bond of love: Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls. Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup. Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone, Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music. Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping. For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts. And stand together yet not too near together: For the pillars of the temple stand apart, And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow." ::The sentiment echoed around the former chapel for a few moments, resonating through those in attendance. Else returned to her seat, though first she sent a sly wink in her grandson's direction, and his answer was a wry, crooked smile and a dip of his head.:: Schulte: We come now to the words that take Quinn and Walter across the threshold from being engaged to being married. A marriage, as we here understand it, is a voluntary and full commitment. It is made in the deepest sense to the exclusion of all others, and it is entered into with the desire and hope that it will last for life. Before you declare your vows to one another, I want to hear you confirm that it is indeed your intention to be married today. ::She paused, and smiled first at the bride in blue.:: Quinn, do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Walter in marriage? If so, answer "I do." ::A small grin caught at the corners of Quinn's lips and she glanced up at Walter. Standing there, doing what they were doing, it wasn't something she'd ever really thought would come to pass. And yet, there they were, saying the words and sealing the deal.:: Reynolds: I do. Schulte: Walter, do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Quinn in marriage? If so, answer "I do." Brunsig: I do. ::Quinn's breath caught in her throat, a supernova igniting behind her ribs. There hadn't been a gram of hesitation in his baritone, his answer assured and confident.:: Schulte: Walter and Quinn, having heard that it is your intention to be married to each other, I now ask you to declare your marriage vows. Please face each other and hold hands. ::If there was any part of the ceremony that made her nervous, this was it. Quinn wasn't one for emotional declarations, for putting the fragile parts of her heart in the plain view of others. She turned and reached for his hands, smiling at the warmth of his skin against hers, the light scratch of his calloused fingertips. His thoughts brushed against hers, soft and frictionless, like silk sheets sliding against one another. That sent her mind spiralling, and it was only a gentle tug on her hands that brought her back into the present, a blush on her cheeks and a sly, knowing smile on Walter's lips.:: Reynolds: There are three words that are stronger than I love you. Today I stand in front of you to say "I choose you". I choose you over all others. I choose you to share happiness with. I choose you to care for. I choose you to have a family with. I choose you to grow old with. ::She took a breath.:: Walter Brunsig, I choose you to love for the rest of my days. ::She felt his hands tighten around hers, a faint flush creeping up from under the collar of his white shirt. The effect of her words on him, and the effect of the words he was about to speak.:: Brunsig: Today, Quinn Reynolds, I join my life to yours. From the moment our paths crossed, you’ve fascinated me, challenged me, frustrated me and improved me in ways no person has done before. I have fallen in love with you again and again. I promise to be true to you, to support and encourage you, and to challenge and frustrate you. I know that we're good for each other and that we will continue to grow stronger together. ::Quinns stood there, smiling at him, struck by his vows and the fondness in his gaze as he'd spoken them. Left wordless and quite enraptured, it was a good thing that there was someone there to propel the service along.:: Schulte: Your wedding rings are the outward and visible sign of the inward and invisible bond which already unites you. Petra, please give Quinn's ring to Walter. ::The Icelander stepped forward, pressing the simple ring into his palm with a nod and a smile. After a pat on his elbow, Petra stepped away from the broad-shouldered blond, and the officiant continued, still beaming away, her eyes sparkling.:: Schulte: Walter, place the ring on Quinn's finger and repeat after me— ::He took her hand again, echoing the words while he slipped the gold band onto her finger, next to the glittering diamonds of her heirloom engagement ring.:: Brunsig: With this ring, I marry you; with my loving heart, with my willing body, and the promise of all my tomorrows. Schulte: Jo, now please give Walter's ring to Quinn. ::Stowed in a particular place for safe keeping, Jo retrieved the band from the pocket of her dress and smiled at the woman with a small nod of her head as she handed it over.:: Schulte: Quinn, place the ring on Walter's finger and repeat after me— ::One hand curled around his, Quinn eased the ring onto his finger. Nerves dried her throat and slid a tremulous rasp into her voice. For once, she didn't care.:: Reynolds: With this ring, I marry you; with my loving heart, with my willing body, and the promise of all my tomorrows. Schulte: May the wedding rings you exchanged today remind you always that you are surrounded by enduring love. ::The officiant smiled and clearly elated, she clasped her hands together:: Now, by the power vested in me by the town of Cochem, it is my honour and delight to declare you husband and wife. You may seal this declaration with a kiss. ::Their hands still intertwined, Walter dipped to do just that, and Quinn rose up on her toes to meet him part way. Soft, tender and lingering, he left his forehead resting against hers, just long enough to murmur a few words.:: Brunsig: Wife. Reynolds: Husband. ::She grinned.:: We actually did it. Brunsig: Chilly day in hell. ::He smirked at her, the wry observation making her huff a quiet laugh as they parted. Quinn wasn't the only one laughing, and Miriam Schulte chuckled, gesturing open-armed to the pair.:: Schulte: I am pleased to present the newlyweds! Walter, Quinn — your wedding ceremony is over, and it's time to celebrate! -- Rear Admiral Quinn Reynolds Commanding Officer USS Gorkon T238401QR0 & Captain Walter Brunsig Commanding Officer USS Triumphant

Crazy feels in this for an officer trying to deal with the fallout from a secondment to the KDF. Amazing writing as always from @Sera zh' Aella and @Quinn Reynolds. --- ((Spa - Cochtois Lagoon)) :: Wearing a dark blue shirt and smart black pants, Sera strode purposely through the spa lobby. The attire wasn't weather appropriate, the heat and sunshine would normally have made her uncomfortable in such a dark outfit but right now she wasn't concerned with comfort. She wasn't quite marching like a cadet on the parade ground, but if anyone had paid attention to her they would have seen many similar features. The stern-faced determination and the measured posture with her shoulders back and head held high. Only now she was using the drilled movements as façade to hide her inner emotional turmoil, a crutch to lean on as she tried to perform an act which her heart rebelled against but that her brain knew was absolutely necessary. :: :: Sera's career hadn't exactly been the stuff of legends but she did have a few achievements that she was incredibly proud of. Leading an away team on the Romulan Republic colony of Sikuna and the resulting action on the bridge of the IRW D'delnor was probably her finest achievement. But there were other less dramatic things which she held close to her heart, most importantly she still considered it an honoured to wear the uniform each day. It was an honour she doubted that she deserved, so perhaps it was fitting that she was having this meeting in civilian wear. Maybe the absence of her uniform would make the unpalatable task a little easier.:: :: When Sera approached the Admiral's table she felt a lump in her throat and the urge to turn and run. For a moment she paused in her tracks and considered indulging the thought, but only for the briefest of moments. squashing those feelings deep down inside her, she continued up to the table with renewed determination. When the flag officer noticed her, Sera came to attention despite officially being on shore leave and civilian clothing. Formality would be the only way to get through this.:: zh'Aella: Admiral Reynolds, Sir. Reynolds: Hello Lieutenant. Would you like to take a seat? ::Sera remained standing but took the offer as permission to relax her stance. In contrast to her sombre clothing, the Admiral was wearing a light, draped shirt and capri pants, sandals on her feet. Wherever her combadge was, it had been stowed safely out of sight.:: zh'Aella: Thank you for agreeing to see me, Sir. I won't take up much of your time. Reynolds: It's fine. ::She offered a quick smile.:: What can I do for you? :: From her pants pocket Sera withdrew a PADD and her combadge. She gazed at the iconic symbol for several seconds before putting it and the padd down on the table. She found herself wringing her hands again and placed them both behind her back.:: zh'Aella: Admiral Reynolds, I'm officially offering my resignation. :: It wasn't too often that someone caught the Admiral off-guard, but Sera had achieved it. Her eyebrows shot up, lips parting wordlessly before she caught herself and sat up in her chair.:: Reynolds: I beg your pardon? ::The look on the admiral's face made it harder and Sera felt herself waver slightly.:: zh'Aella: Yes sir, the uniform is too important to me to be disgraced my actions or worse, my potential actions. Reynolds: You're going to have to explain. ::Sera shuffled uneasily, had the Admiral not heard about the incident in the ‘Cargo’ hold? Hadn't the civilian mental health nurse advised her of his preliminary diagnosis?:: zh'Aella: Sir, there probably a report waiting in your queue. I started having… relieving memories when we were receiving our medical assessments on the Yarahla. ::Her hands were back in front of her, trembling at the memory.:: I was so confused that I threw an Orion Security officer to the ground under the belief that I was still serving with the Klingons. Reynolds: Yes, I saw it happen. ::She paused.:: What triggered it? :: Sera’s antennae shuddered in embarrassment at the thought of her Commanding Officer watching her break with reality but she forced herself to continue, an explanation was owed for the outburst.:: zh'Aella: The Gre'Thor found a detention area on an Orion pirate base. It was ugly… I tried to kill the pirate leader and was restrained by two enlisted crewmembers. ::She knew that the admission would be the end of her career, but that was precisely why she'd sought out this meeting. She wasn’t going to stain the end of her career further by lying to someone she respected. But to Sera’s surprise, the Admiral kept her response guarded.:: Reynolds: I see. ::With that unexpected response, Sera felt compelled to continue as she stood under the gaze of her CO.:: zh'Aella: I've been diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I don't want another incident to tarnish the Gorkon and I don't want my friends to get hurt because of my failure. Reynolds: Nothing's tarnished, Lieutenant. You've been hurt. It's a wound, not a failing. ::Was the Admiral serious about that? Sera didn't think the flag officer would sugarcoat anything to spare a junior officer's feelings but her words were difficult to accept. By any means of measurement, Sera considered her actions contemptible.:: zh'Aella: Maybe, Sir. But wouldn't the Gorkon be better off with someone else as the Chief of Security? Someone you could trust? ::The warm breeze picked up for a few moments, and it carried with it the scent of barbeque and sweet fruits. Reynolds absently smoothed down the strands of hair that it caught, and in one smooth movement it became a gesture toward the other chair at her table.:: Reynolds: Are you sure you won't sit down? ::She offered the Andorian a small smile.:: If nothing else, you're doing to give me a crick in my neck. ::Sera relented and sat in the chair opposite her commanding officer. Once seated, Quinn gestured for her to continue.:: zh'Aella: I'm afraid that I'll have another episode and do something which cant be undone with an apology. Reynolds: You've been diagnosed, Sera. Have you started any treatment yet? Counselling, medications..? ::Her face heated at the questions and her antennae shuddered as she realised that she wouldn't be able to give a satisfactory answer.:: zh'Aella: I have a treatment plan which includes medication and therapy. The medication I got on the Yarahla helped alittle. But… :: She stuttered for a moment.:: But, I haven't started therapy yet. Reynolds: ::Gently,:: Are you planning to? :: Pride clashed with the knowledge that she needed to seek help, the conflicting feelings causing her head to spin.:: zh'Aella: I was in the process of booking a session, but I'm not sure how talking about my feelings will help. Resigning seemed like the better option. ::Reynolds didn't answer immediately, and Sera's antennae dropped flat to her head.:: Maybe I choose the easier way out. ::Marching up an Admiral and offering her resignation sure didn't feel easy at the time. But perhaps it was easier than discussing, and attempting to manage, her mental state with people she had to see daily.:: Reynolds: There's nothing easy about any of it. ::She paused, considering her response.:: Take it from someone who's stridently private, and spent half her career fleeing in the opposite direction whenever she saw the ship's counsellor... it helps. It's not just talking. It's learning about yourself, understanding yourself and what you've been through. It's about figuring out the techniques that will help you. :: Sera let out a deep breath and placed her trembling hands on the table. She cupped them in an effort to keep them from trembling, and immediately her right heel began bouncing off the floor causing her leg to shake. It was almost enough to send her into a nervous giggling fit, but only almost.:: zh'Aella: I looked at the symptoms of this... of my, disorder when I got back to my quarters. I haven't experienced many of them yet, but I might in the future. Relieving the flashbacks was bad enough but other symptoms might strike when I'm not expecting them. I don't want to resign, but I honestly don't know if I can do my job while dealing with this. Reynolds: We have a while before the conference ends and we're back on duty. Take that time to think about it. You have to do what's best for you, and if that really *is* resigning your commission, then that's what it is. ::She paused, woodland eyes intent on Sera.:: But give yourself a little time, and take a little help. If the counsellor clears you for duty, that's good enough for me. Talk with her and start your healing, before making any final decisions. :: She sat there with her leg vibrating under the table and hands clenched together so fiercely that Sera's mind began to have thoughts of hanging onto a ladder as she was flipped her head over heels. Fortunately the memories were not so vivid that she forgot where she was, but the increased level of anxiety was undeniable. It felt like people at the other tables were watching her, judging her. Sera closed her eyes, recognising the negative feeling and began breathing slowly and deeply. After a minute she felt slightly calmer.:: zh'Aella: Yes sir. I'll start working on it, on healing and get back to you. :: She collected the PADD and combadge from the table.:: I'll hang on to those for a little while longer. I'm sorry for laying this on you, Admiral. Reynolds: I'm glad that you did. ::She offered a small, kind smile.:: You're not alone in this, Sera. zh'Aella: Thank you sir. Reynolds: Alright. ::She paused, about to say something else, and then changed her mind.:: Try and enjoy your shore leave, in the meantime. And if you *do* need anything, just ask. End -- Lieutenant Sera zh'Aella Chief of Security and Tactical USS Gorkon V239107TZ0 & Rear Admiral Quinn Reynolds Commanding Officer USS Gorkon T238401QR0

Starfleet do provide Medical School for their Doctors - usually four years of Starfleet Academy Officer training, then four years of Starfleet Medical School. It's up to you if your character went to a medical school outside of Starfleet Academy - that's fine too. They'd graduate that first, then go in for Starfleet Officer Training. Out of Character: Everyone goes through the same Academy training with us to prep you for life in the 'Fleet! You'll do your simulated practical exam In Character (which is the week-long training) and graduate with your classmates. There's some more in-depth info here on what we use for reference in Starfleet Academy's Medical program. You might find this useful. - https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=Academy_Majors_and_Minors/Medicine

Simception

Character death can be so hard to do right but @Emilia Krugol nailed it. Well done! ((Deck 3, Transporter Room — USS Njörðr)) ::Flames blazed viciously in the heat of the moment. The transporter room was in ashes, smoke filling the confined space with a noxious cloud of cinders and embers. Raging fires and debris filled the area. Panic shot through her body as frantic voices filled the air. Deiara didn’t need to be an empath to feel the adrenaline rushing through the very room.:: ::The door had malfunctioned, trapping 5 other ops officers in the room with her. Currently it was a battle against time. Above the ops officers was a forcefield containing possibly tonnes of debris from the upper decks, ready to cave in at any given moment and judging from the violent showers of sparks from the emitters, it wouldn’t be long until it gave out. Deiara’s ash covered fingers worked as best as they could with the amount of burns they’d sustained. Currently the others worked on fighting the fires, but to no avail, each flame continued burning like the rage of a bloodthirsty klingon.:: ::Billows of smoke constantly plumed the area, barely giving Deiara space to work between coughs and wheezes. The amount of ash getting into the open circuitry was making it incredibly difficult to restore power to the doors.:: Statton: Petty Officer! Get that door open! ::Deiara’s ears rang like a horn blowing over and over again. Ensign Jennifer Statton, the highest ranking officer in that room as of now was barking orders like there was no tomorrow. It was taking every possible ounce of patience not to knock her out. The blonde’s face was feeling very punchable at this time. However, Deiara turned her head and practically screamed over the franticness of the crew.:: Venn: I’d get it open if you weren’t running your mouth every five seconds! Ensign sit down, or fight the damn fires before we suffocate! Don’t stand there barking orders like your some captain! ::She didn’t speak. Stanton was terrified. Fear coursed through her veins to a point where she was frozen in place. Deiara returned to her work, once again attempting to route power to the door. Nothing.:: ::The effort was becoming more and more desperate with the constant violent hums of the forcefield above. Holding back possibly even an entire deck worth of hardware. Deiara’s fingers stung with every point of contact she made, every wire, every button that was pressed was pure agony to touch. Her body quivered in fear, anxiety reaching it’s peak in her chest. It was hard to breathe, even harder to see what she was doing.:: ::Finally the doors opened, remaining hardly even ajar with the lack of power supplied. Deiara grabbed a piece of metal and jammed it between the two doors, keeping them open for the time being.:: Venn: Go! It’s open! MOVE!!! ::Deiara screamed at the height of her lungs. Ushering and almost shoving people through the gap in the door.:: ::Frantic voices sounded as Deiara moved over to the transporter console. All transport functions were either offline or destroyed. Currently she was attempting to reroute as much power to this decks structural integrity as possible before it comes apart. In her weakened state, her hands glazed over the controls. Uprooting every ounce of possible power in the redundant transporter systems just to keep this deck from coming apart.:: ::The last officer made it through the doors with a laboured limp, right before the opening snapped shut. Deiara stared at the door defeatedly, continuing to do everything she could to keep this bucket of bolts together.:: ::Three violent crackles of electricity shot out from the forcefield emitters before letting out several small explosions in it’s wake. The screeches of metal on metal were the last specs of life she heard. Deiara looked up, tears welling in her eyes as she stood on the doorstep of her fate. Everything, she felt everything, it all came at once like a violent rush of pain in her mind. The deafening cries of agony were silently drowned out by the crashing of debris. Like a tree in a forest, nobody heard it..:: ::The warm crackling of fire silently swayed in the midst of the fallen metal. Softly burning away at the past that was left behind.:: ___________________________ Petty Officer 3rd Grade Deiara Venn - USS Gorkon - Transporter Operator ___________________________ Simmed By _________________________ Lieutenant (JG) Emilia Krugol - USS Gorkon - Security/Tactical officer - G239409EK0 __________________________

@Vel Careno - Love the hair!

Excellent JP, guys. Really well done.

This is an appreciation shout out for the crew of the USS Gorkon! Our last (current) mission saw us in Deep Space, in deep sleep, and about twenty years in the past stuck in a dream. Awakening to a life as a member of a Maquis Resistance Cell on the raider Skarbek , everyone took to it immediately, temporarily redesigning aspects of their character makeup and made it work. It was truly an awesome mission (it's still going on) and there's so much love on the Gorkon for everyone's effort in bringing the Maquis to life in our own special way. Thank you, everyone, and especially @Quinn Reynolds - It's been such a ride! Having said that, you're all insane. Justifiably, as per the below, but nevertheless. Completely bonkers. We're fully aware that trying to explain any of this to anyone would warrant a buckled cuddle jacket and a padded room. Coupled with the fact that this will be completely out of context... Here are some of my favourite bits of the entire escapade pre-wake up call, in chronological order. Enjoy! --- ::The engines of the Cardassian raiders screamed through the night sky, a banshee wail of fire and devastation. The outpost was rapidly being reduced to ruins, buildings collapsed and aflame. The worst of the bombardment was over, paving way for the troops to hit the ground and try to mop up the survivors. Thankfully, the civilians had mostly been evacuated before the Cardassians had reached the planet, leaving only the Maquis fighters still on the ground. ::[Brunsig] was proud to say that they were living up to the name of "resistance fighters". There'd been casualties on both sides, but the number of Cardassian corpses were outnumbered by those of his own people. For now.:: --- Brunsig: You think we do that? To them? Do you think we swoop down on civilian outposts and burn their homes to the ground? ::He had no doubt she'd heard the commotion outside. But seeing it, tasting it, hearing the heat sear her face… he saw her expression shift, horror forming in her hazel eyes, even as she fought to keep her composure.:: Reynolds: I can't. Brunsig: Listen to me, *Cupcake*-- ::He stopped himself, clenching his jaw. Now was not the time, as gratifying as it would be to yell in her face.:: --- Brunsig: =/\= If I have to scrape your corpse up, I'm giving your bike to the kid. =/\= ::She snorted a laugh, her first for the last day, at least. The gruff guy knew just where to jab the painstik to make sure her priorities were in order.:: Marshall: =/\= Scheißhaus. If you do, I'll make telling him your nickname my dying words. Which of us will be worse off? =/\= --- ::The voices up ahead grew louder as she drew unendingly closer, Emilia’s pace increased to a light jog. Her ‘holster’, (aka, a glorified leather satchel) tapped soundly against her thigh, a sensation Emilia had gotten relatively accustomed to over the past several years in DMZ. After abandoning her place in the federation, carrying a weapon almost constantly was the new standard equipment. Having a weapon was one of the few luxuries that help Emilia sleep at night. Life had been a real kick in the backside since leaving her home on Trill, but it was a worthy sacrifice for a cause she believed in. Sure she’d never see her family, but Emilia wasn’t going to stand by as these people suffered at the hands of the Cardassian Union.:: ::A flash of pink entered the corner of Emilia’s vision, a somewhat, but glossy ribbon whipping in the weak wind as it held her hair in a side swept ponytail. That flash of pink was all she had left of home, nothing more and nothing less, but it was a good reminder of what Emilia fought for. The freedom of countless federation citizens, a cause she gave up a utopia for, but it’s not much of a utopia if those who govern it refuse to help their own.:: --- Brunsig: =/\= They're killing us down here, Red. =/\= :: Ayiana smirked. Everyone in the cell had taken on a nickname, always chosen by everyone else, and not always flattering. It was mostly to hide their identities over open communication channels, but over time, everyone had gotten used to the nicknames. It was pretty easy to figure out why people started calling Ayiana “Red.” :: Sevo: =/\= So kill them first. I’d say ten minutes until we’re down there. :: Boom! :: Assuming we’re not blown out of the sky first. =/\= --- ::Tasha gave a shriek of laughter as she grabbed ahold of a nearby access panel and tore it off the wall. In the recessed alcove was a mass of relays. Some would call it messy or unordered, but to Tasha it made perfect sense. She reached in and located the switch buried beneath the relays and flipped it. There was a high pitched whine and Tasha glanced at a nearby console and grinned.:: ::She plunged her arm back in, navigating the mass of relays on memory and instinct. She located a second switch and flipped it too. The whine dropped to a dull drone, and when Tasha flipped a third switch the sound vanished. She extracted her arm and jumped to her feet and raced to the nearest console, hurriedly entering several commands, and grinning as she watched the shield strength increase.:: MacFarlane: =/\= I’ve got more shield strength f’ yeh Red! An’ more speed f’ yeh Sticks! Show those spoonheads what yeh can do laddie!! =/\= --- :: Yiggtissi noticed the phaser that had appeared in Sim’s hand. No doubt it was his trusty sidearm that he almost never left home without. The Saurian patted himself down looking for his own but couldn’t find it. He looked around on the floor. Finally, under the rubble of a table, he saw it. It was a small silver disruptor his oldest brother had given him when he first joined the ragtag group of renegades. He snatched it up and gave it a once over. It was half charged and now covered in a couple of scratches. :: Sim: For luck :: Yiggtissi looked up and saw the infamous flask sitting in the air. It had become sort of a tradition between them both since they first went into battle together. Usually, before the two medics did something extremely stupid, they would take long draws from the flask and head off into the throws of battle or bar fights. Yiggtissi smiled a toothy grin and snatched the flask from his air, taking a long drink before handing it off to the rest. He used his remaining sleeve to wipe the dribble from the corners of his mouth. :: ::Cory declined. He had remembered the last time they had been together and the flask had appeared. It was a bar fight on Penthios IV and it cost Yiggtissi a broken jaw, Stoyer a black eye and Sim a nice cut on his forehead from a broken bottle. Good times, indeed. :: --- ::Ferier “Stick’s” Lanta loved to fly, as a boy all he wanted to do was fly starships. Rejected by the Federation for Starfleet Academy and finding no interest in flying Transporters from Trill and finding a hatred for the “spoonheads” for their actions on Bajor he had drifted in to the Maquis he had been found by Brunsig. After been caught stealing Brunsig had helped him out and quickly gained his trust with a speed that still astounded him. ::So here he found himself flying admittedly a run down Maquis ship. Held together by what Sparks called unicorn power, something he quite firmly believed having seen Sparks find miracle cures for the little ships mechanical woes. Usually, his job was difficult taking the battle to the Cardies. Today it seemed impossible. Fighting off Cardie attack vessels swerving around and between them. :: --- Vondaryan: Don't try anything. Brunsig: That goes both ways. How about you tear your eyeballs off her [...] and earn your keep? --- Marshall: Avoiding is better than a full frontal firefight. We're in no condition to take the fight to them. How's your chair doing on the rubble? Sim: I'm fine, don't worry about me. The old girl's done more miles than you've had replicated meals. --- Krugol: As much as you’re itching to shoot something, I doubt it’d be a good idea to delve headfirst into a bunch of Cardassians that can call for help. Vondaryan: We could try to draw some of them off with a distraction. Then the rest of us could make a run for it. ::He rummaged through the pack.:: I'm sure there's a few disruptor grenades in here somewhere. ::He made it a point not to volunteer to be the distraction himself. He was much too valuable to waste in a potentially lethal way.:: --- Stoyer: Hey Blondie! If this works you gonna talk Red into going out with me when we get out of here? ::Jo's eyes flitted upwards. A fight to the death came second to a dry spell apparently - she didn't expect any different from the charming Engineer. It had been the same on the night they'd met. One bar fight, smashed bottles, his flirtations exchanged for her eye-rolls aplenty. And, now, she was the wingman. Power ballads were written for that kind of friendship.:: Marshall: Sure, Strip. That impending shuttle wreck is exactly what I want on my mind! --- D’fini: Are you alright?::Concerned. She didn't want to rain on his parade. In fact, it was nice. It wasn't a quantum torpedo explosion by any stretch but it was nice and she liked it.:: Smith: Of course it wasn’t my first kiss.... ::She knew that was a lie. However, it might be interesting how to teach this one the fine art of it. She gave a small smile.:: D’fini: Not bad for a first kiss. Not bad at all. ::She watched his face go red. Davine had caught him and she wasn't going to let it go for a moment.:: --- ::Laugh, or cry? Hard to decide. A short, sharp smack with the butt of her rifle also seemed like a valid alternative. Finally, the pair decided to pay attention to the destruction and potential death that surrounded them, but from the direction their weapons were pointing, it looked as though they hadn't realised who was approaching them. Sienelis: It's us. ::She hissed, still not sure if she was amused or annoyed by (or jealous of?) their antics.:: If you've finished trying to mount each other while the world burns, we're leaving. --- Sevo: Computer, run program “Cavalry.” :: The computer acknowledged with a quick chirp. As the ramp lowered, Ayiana heard the opening riff of AC/DC’s “Shoot to Thrill” blasting over the external speakers. Simultaneously, the ship flashed it’s running lights in tune with the beat. Once the ramp was open, Ayiana stepped up to the edge. Grinning widely, she let loose a barrage of phaser energy packets at over two-thousand per minute, straight into the Cardassians on the ground. :: Sevo: :: To ground teams. :: =/\= WAHOO! THE CAVALRY HAS ARRIVED!! =/\= (( OOC: https://youtu.be/4gDch1p4c_M )) --- Yiggs: Almost like that skirmish on Devro. :: He paused. :: I didn't think we were gonna make it this time. ::Genkos thought about the skirmish on Devro. If he remembered rightly, he'd annoyed some rather fierce Klingons whilst under the influence, and Yiggs had to come to his aid. They'd managed to corner the Klingons in an alley, and had to beat them to death with their own bat'leth. Again, fun.:: Sim: ::locking eyes with his friend:: Me neither. I was certain my little stunt was going to get one of us killed. Although it looks like we did okay. That explosion sounded pretty impressive, even if I do say so myself. --- Brunsig: I'll head to the bridge and see if I can get hold of him. ::He paused, eyeing the Starfleet officer, holding out the cuffs to whoever took them first.:: Cuff her again, put her in one of the empty crew cabins and make sure there's a guard on the door. Whoever's left, defend this ramp. Sevo: I got enough power to hold out. Go. ::Emilia nodded to Brunsig eagerly, deciding not to pay any attention to Trellis’ antics.:: Krugol: I’ll stay, and give Red a hand ::She spoke, holder her phaser up.:: Vondaryan: I'll make sure she's nice and safe. Sevo: Yea, that’s not creepy at all. --- Vondaryan: Don't worry, I won't begin any interrogations yet. ::He smirked.:: I'll just let her stew in the cabin for a little longer, contemplating her fate. ::The Maquis Raider was a far cry from the sleek, elegant engineering of the Starfleet vessels she served on. Cramped, dingy and damaged, she couldn't help but feel it echoed the personalities and attitudes of the people who inhabited it. Some Maquis were sympathetic in their struggles, noble warriors fighting a dirty (if misguided) war to protect their homes. The Skarbek's crew, by and large, were not counted among that number.:: Reynolds: ::Quietly,:: Have you ever contemplated yours? Vondaryan: Look, if we can get away from the Cardassians on a regular basis, we can certainly keep ahead of Starfleet. ::He smirked once again, in an underserved show of confidence.:: They haven't caught us yet. You're in this for the long haul. ::Oh, but the Cardassians had caught them, hadn't they? Only it hadn't been the Maquis who had suffered for it, rather the people who had lived and worked in the outpost currently in flames. Now an entire community was homeless in the Demilitarised Zone, left to hope that someone would take them in. Perhaps they'd head back to the Federation, where they'd be safe. She hoped so. ::Quinn answered as the EPS system on the beleaguered raider began to whine, power being pushed hard through the ship's systems. It looked as though they were entering the final stages of their escape from the outpost.:: Reynolds: You'll forgive me if I choose to believe otherwise. --- ::Cory ran over to the warp core and looked over it. He traced his finger to the top and located the injector under the Deuterium tank. It looked a bit out of alinement. Climbing up to reached it, he remembered that his toolkit was back near the shield console. Cursing, he climbed back down, ran over and grabbed it. Slinging it over his shoulder Cory climbed back up and started loosening the brackets that kept the injector alined. ::When they were loosened, Cory used a small rubber mallet to whack the injector a couple of time to see if it would move. Nothing. So Cory hit it harder. Cursing, he hit it with everything he had and it moved slightly. Hitting it again, it seemed to straighten back up and a light came on. Cory dropped the hammer and started tightening the brackets. Climbing down and wiping the sweat off with a rag from his bag he beamed at Tasha as she climbed out of the Jefferies tube.:: MacFarlane: Structural integrity is back, ‘ow goes it in ‘ere? Stoyer: I got the injector repaired. See I did learn a few things from you. --- Lanta: Don’t mind me while I close my eyes and pray. ::Muttering to herself, Jo turned her waning attention back to the console in front of her and the systems screaming for the power she didn't have to give. Whatever was going on in Engineering needed to get fixed fast, otherwise, they were going to be the guest stars at a Cardassian [...]tail party. Forgoing praying to any deity that was listening - because if their luck was any indication, none ever did - Jo concentrated on the image of Walter in a [...]tail dress, providing just enough amusement to see her through to the sticky end.:: --- Brunsig: =/\= Did you get it? =/\= E. Reynolds: =/\= Yes, and you owe me a new liver. I'm *still* hungover from all the bloodwine they made us drink. =/\= ::She wasn't kidding. Her head felt like someone was using it as an alternative to timpani in Beethoven's 9th Symphony, and she hadn't eaten in over 24 hours, still quite convinced that her stomach still wasn't ready for anything solid. The Klingons had found it hilarious just how much the tiny woman had been able to put away, but boy had she regretted it the next day. Which, oddly, had only seemed to endear her a little more to them.:: Brunsig: =/\= Sure thing, Bärchen. But if we're talking about who owes who a new liver— =/\= E. Reynolds: =/\= Fine, fine. But you have to admit, that was *good* gin. =/\= --- Reynolds: But your cause isn't as just as you pretend it is, is it? It's an excuse. A chance to kill and maim people who had nothing to do with the attack on your home. Then they use that as an excuse to hurt more of our people. And so it goes, round and round. ::An eye for an eye, and the whole galaxy goes blind.:: --- ::Suddenly sparks and smoke began sizzling out of an exposed panel under the tactical console.:: Krugol: Dammit, ::Yelling:: Hey Red? Could you possibly break it to Sparks that the motherboard got fried again? Sevo: Nope. Lanta: Don’t look at me I think it’s Emilia’s turn. Krugol: What do you mean ‘No’? I told her last time, it’s only fair that you do it. ::Emilia whined:: Burke: Here I got it. ::Eli said crawling onto the floor.:: Nobody needs to get the Queen of Scotts involved. --- Gwinnett: Come on someone. ::She had used the intercom so many times that she had gotten the answer. 'Don't call us, we will call you'. She had been quiet for hours now, but it was just another minor offense on a service record that was marred with minor offensives.:: ::She sighed and rolled over. Finally she got thin mattress and got on the floor. She got down and started to start her exercise routine. It was something that distract her for a little while. The pushups started in earnest. Slowly at first until she found her rhythm.:: Gwinnett: Three, Four, Five, Six. ::Her body started to transform into a machine, doing the same near prefect motion time and time again.:: ---- Yiggtissi: Here. It’s not much but you will need the protein. Besides the obvious, do you feel alright? Pain? Injured? Vondaryan: I doubt there's anything you can do for her wounded pride. :: Genkos could not read a thing off their prisoner, either through his natural empathic powers or in her body language. She was a slight woman, and it appeared that she was trying to appear smaller. It might be that was from genuine fear, to appease Slick's aggressive attitude, or from another feeling altogether. Pride was funny, and Genkos was pretty sure the only person feeling any level of pride at that moment in time was Slick himself. Genkos was fairly ashamed that they were having to resort to kidnapping a Starfleet officer, he was pretty sure Yiggs felt the same way as the tenderness he was showing their prisoner was touching. Whilst the look Blondie was giving Slick could kill Julius Caesar many times over.:: --- Reynolds: Why does it matter, anyway? ::She smiled, a hollow expression that didn't reach her eyes.:: The intention isn't to let me remain fine, is it? ::The bile rose in Genkos' throat. Clearly this woman believed they were going to torture her, and that was the last thing either of the two doctors wanted. Even without their experiences with Chok, they'd taken an oath to do no harm. Whilst they'd relented on that vow when it came to Cardassians, they still would take care of their own, as well as anybody who was decent and innocent. And whilst the Starfleeter in front of them was probably not innocent, she hadn't proved herself to be indecent.:: Sim: That's unfair and untrue. It's not Brunsig's way, it's not my way, it's certainly not Yiggs' way. --- Thomas: If we consider we can’t find time to bring it offline, what do you think about a few compensatory modifications to ensure that we do get to where we’re going at least? ::Poor Kael. So serious and sensible in his suggestions. It really wasn't fair that Tasha was hooting with laughter almost immediately after he'd asked the question. Valesha shot him a wry look, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. Unhinged as she was, the woman was both good at her work and popular with the crew. All you could do was put up with her… idiosyncrasies.:: MacFarlane: Compensatory modifications...Bahahahahahaha!!!!! ::Tasha doubled over, cackling away.:: Oh, that’s a good one!!! A better way t’ phrase tha’ might be; delay th’ problem until its too late. Sevo: We’re meeting up with the Inayat-Khan. Erin is bringing supplies and some new recruits. I hope we can at least make it a few light-years, Sparks? MacFarlane: Oh aye, ol’ Skarbek will get us where we need t’ go. Won’t yeh ol’ girl? ::Tasha fondly ran her hand along the edge of her console.:: But, she didn’t like jumpin’ in th’ atmosphere, she protested long an’ loud. --- Sim: Isn't that the reason we have law enforcement? To help curtail the worst echelons of the various species of the galaxy? Yiggtissi: I think our esteemed beside manner is useless here brother. Reynolds: I'm not going to voluntarily tell you anything I know. Beyond the fact it's my duty not to, I'm not going to help you kill more people. So let me ask you this; what options does that leave you with? --- Neathler: ::quickly Samira stood up, causing the chair to fall over:: Hey, what did I... :: Samira stopped midsentence, she was yelling at a closed door anyway. She stared at the door, her eyes flashing from one side to the other as if she was trying to read something that was printed on the door. Finally in her mind, a few loose ends came together and she figured it out. She shook her head as she picked up the chair and with a deep sigh she sat down. :: Neathler: :: talking to her self :: I should have known, some friend you are... --- Burke: I don’t know. Somewhere between killing people and letting people get killed. ::Eli responded in a tone acknowledging the entire universes spanning the distance between those two ideals.:: ::Idealism was what got people killed out here. Eli couldn’t afford to be idealistic anymore, for himself or for the people he was protecting. Part of him hurt admitting that, but it was true. And at the same time, the paradox of the issue confronted Eli because determining not to adhere to an ideal in order to save lives was an ideal in itself. So in his efforts not to be idealistic, Eli exercised idealism. If he was going to be idealistic either way shouldn’t he adhere to the ideal his heart, his spirit, told him was most important, the core of the issue? --- ::Emilia felt a strange feeling in the pit of her chest, the uncomfortable feeling as if she was being watched. Emilia’s hands formed into fists tighter than a ferengi, her knuckles going white with irritation and anxiety. As if someone was trying to burn a hole in her skull sheerly by staring, a feeling she despised with a passion. Emilia’s temptation to snap some snarky comment at the gawker was immeasurable, but she held herself back, she didn’t want to cut Eli off.:: Krugol: I see… oO Okay, that’s it. Oo Thumper, give me a second, will you? ::Emilia’s head snapped around in one swift motion, causing an almost visible disturbance in the air. Her narrowed eyes matched with a familiar blue, her body freezing for a second in hesitation. But, like steam through ice, Emilia’s snarky comment flung itself at the trill before her, like an asteroid.:: Need something? Or are you just staring for the hell of it? Try drawing a picture, it’ll last you longer. Lanta: Sorry Princess but no its nothing. Guess I am losing it. --- ::Talara saw a bright flash in the sky through all the haze and smoke. Had somebody really gone to warp in the atmosphere like that? They had to be crazy. ::Then again, this whole operation was crazy. She never should have left the Imperial Guard. What had she been thinking? She'd been thinking of Shral, of course. What was best for him. They would never be safe with any threat of Cardassians impeding upon Federation territory. Who knew how long it would be until the Cardies wanted Andoria, or some other occupied world in the heart of the Federation. The Federation may be willing to sacrifice the DMZ, but she wasn't. It was the principle of the thing. You had to stand up to bullies. The spoonies were some of the biggest bullies in the galaxy. ::With a roar of her own and her antennae pressed flat against her head Talara "Wires" zh'Aldrashi stepped forward to face the onslaught that awaited her. As the Klingons would say, "Today is a good day to die." She would take as many spoonies out with her as she could in the process.:: (Trellis Vondaryan) --- Marshall: Whatever you say, sponge. If you can explain to me where that dent came from in the Mess Hall table, I'll let you out. Gwinnett: I'll take responsibility. I think it was me.::She wasn't sure, but to fall on your sword at this point didn't hurt her.:: Alright so I shouldn't of been drinking. However, I should of been relieved hours ago. Not that a little liquor ever interfered with my aim. One has to wonder how many times....::She went on and on about her concerns. Gwinnett always had steam to blow off and keeping it bottled up was even worst.:: ::Finally the door slid open and Marshall was standing there. Brooks looked up and got up from the floor.:: Marshall: Fancy a trip to Engineering? Gwinnett: I was starting to think that no one cared.::Smiling.:: --- ::Genkos pushed himself closer, and Yiggtissi handed over his tricorder, still linked with the transmitter on Krugol’s neck. It had been constantly recording the various data and storing in the device’s memory. Genkos looked at the readings. They looked perfectly normal, sedate even, for somebody asleep. Glancing upwards, he saw Princess sat on the edge of the biobed. Definitely not asleep. He looked down again at the readings again – her limbic system was acting like it was in deep REM sleep, but she was wide awake.:: oO What the... Oo Sim: So I am reading this right – her brain is asleep, but Princess is awake. I'm not missing anything? --- EMH: You have a very serious disruptor wound, Lieutenant. ::Caedan started to laugh, then groaned at the molten pain the motion sent through his torso. Was it bad enough to kill him? It *felt* bad enough to kill him, but he was certainly the most biased person the assessment.:: Nkai: No kidd— ::his words stuttered in his mouth as he grimaced,:: —dding. EMH: Can you explain what's going on? ---- MacFarlane: Uhhh...All o’ it? I can fix th’ table, hang on. ::Tasha placed her flesh hand on a still flat piece of the table, while she reached underneath with her prosthetic. She easily located the dent, and with a couple of well-aimed and steady thumps she more or less smoothed out the crater.:: Reynolds: ::Sincerely,:: Then my lips are sealed. MacFarlane: Thank yeh, I do nae want m’ friends t’ think I’m mentally unstable. --- Marshall: Take your time. It's probably a byproduct of whatever gas Sparks uses in Engineering. Huff too much of that stuff and you'll be seeing fairies and unicorns. Sevo: I don’t know. This was weird. I mean, weirder than Sparks’ moonshine fumes. I...I think I’d better go to sickbay. Marshall: You gonna be alright going on your own, or...? ::However, the woman was already making her way toward the stairs, full steam ahead.:: Or just go it alone, into the dark, smash your head open on a step, make ME the bad guy... ::Muttering to herself, Jo jogged to catch up with her before she fell down them head first and face planted the floor. Their Maquis Health Insurance wasn't what it used to be.:: --- Brunsig: So to be clear; we're all exhausted and strung out on adrenaline; we've just narrowly escaped from the burning wreckage of Schulman, breathing in deep lungfuls of toxic smoke from an outpost's worth burning buildings and their contents; you're using equipment that was basic and bargain basement when it was new twenty-five years ago; said equipment took a battering along with the rest of the ship when we were being shot at by Cardassians... ::He paused for dramatic effect, sweeping his piercing gaze around the people collected in sickbay,:: Brunsig: ...but you think the *reasonable* conclusion is that we're all lucid sleepwalkers? Including yourselves. Who are diagnosing sleepwalking. In your sleep. ::He scowled.:: Is there such a thing as a common sense transplant? ::He glanced toward Vondaryan.:: What's the going rate on those, these days? --- ::Some of them had seemed quite promising, to start with. Some fury, some violent tendencies, a desperate desire for revenge… but they were all too loyal to (or afraid of) their "captain". It was a frustration that the dream state could only be created with broad brush strokes — goals set, scenario created — with the dreamers filling in the blanks. It led to situations like this, with Starfleet officers putting a captain in charge and following him like the sheep they were.:: Mirovan: Mmm. ::She paused, gesturing at the screen with a milk-pale, slender finger.:: In addition, the joined Trill are proving to a be problem— Lladre: ::Dryly,:: Story of my life. Mirovan: —as they're experiencing corporeal bleed, due to their unique neurophysiology. I can increase the intensity of the field to counteract it, but it does risk permanent brain damage to both symbiont and host. ::Face impassive, Lladre locked her gaze with the Dokkaran woman. Ana was almost monochrome: white hair, anaemic skin… the only splashes of colour were her pale pink lips and translucent blue eyes. She really was very fond of the mild-mannered, desert-witted woman. They had been friends for a very long time, through several hosts, and she was one of the few people Lladre would ever inconvenience herself for.:: Lladre: I fail to see how that's a problem. Mirovan: I thought you might say that. --- ::In an instant, her hungry eyes seized the book’s form, Emilia’s nails jamming in between the marked crevices of the novel. Dramatically and slowly, she freed the printed text from darkness that plagued the pages. The relief of escaping to a world of fantasy upon her once more, as she set her famished eyes on the bold, black letters that sunk deeply into the pages.:: ::It felt rather ironic really, suspecting one of dreaming, but once again indulging in the dreams of another man. Quite odd really? Perhaps it was… but the line between dreams and reality appeared to thicken once again as Emilia occupied her thoughts on the coarse pages. Though, she still couldn’t shake the feelings she had earlier. Each image within her mind, sticking with her like glue. Each recollection, causing a strangely ghostly feeling to reach through the very centre of her chest.:: ::But what could it all mean?:: --- Smith: Me and Davine? Noo...... ::He was lying through the skin of his teeth and it was very obvious, but he knew people would find out quickly. He just needed to be careful about what he said as they weren’t anything, they as Davine said we’re “just having fun” Yiggtissi: This is a small ship Kid. Every time someone passes gas around here, it’s like a major breaking news event. Sim: Although we're not going to tell anyone. ::winking at the Kid:: --- Brunsig: ...but you think the *reasonable* conclusion is that we're all lucid sleepwalkers? Including yourselves. Who are diagnosing sleepwalking. In your sleep. ::He scowled.:: Is there such a thing as a common sense transplant? ::He glanced toward Vondaryan.:: What's the going rate on those, these days? ::Trellis snorted. He tried motioning to say "I told them, they don't believe me," and "I can't just *buy* common sense for them" but wasn't sure how effective he was with a mere shrug and a roll of his eyes.:: --- Johns: Alright, alright. No need to take a chunk out of my tush, I was only asking. Consider my rump roasted. Lanta: What I wouldn’t give for a plate of fresh gagh or some Targ steak right now. Sevo: I don’t know, Soup, you would have made a pretty decent mirror. All we would need to do is just bend you over, and stick your [...] around a corner to look for any surprises --- MacFarlane: =/\= MacFarbles t’ Yiggy. I figged yer equibmint. =/\= Yiggtissi: =/\= Thanks. :: He paused. :: Are you ok Sparks? =/\= MacFarlane: =/\= Wha? I’m line...brine...lime...uhhh...I am completely alrigh’ =/\= Yiggtissi:: =/\= So there was nothing wrong with the devices? Hard to believe but I trust you. =/\= MacFarlane: =/\= Well, then come t’ shikbay an’ sheck it yerselb. Or no! Were are yeh? I can take da shricorbers t’ yeh! =/\= --- ::Erin smiled, tugged forward as Jo slipped her fingers into the belt loops of her trousers. She happily fell into the woman's arms, squeezing back just as tightly as she was swept up into a bear hug. It was good to be home.:: Marshall: Welcome home, sheya. E. Reynolds: I missed you. ::She paused, closing her eyes in a grimace of discomfort and annoyance.:: But, um… for your continued personal hygiene, you should probably put me down. --- ::Quinn hit the deck with a thump, and laid there in a daze for a few moments. The bare metal of the Skarbek's deck was cold against her cheek, and she couldn't tell if she was relieved or disappointed to have woken from the intense dream. Her heart was still pounding, and she could almost swear his scent still lingered on her skin, her lips still tingling from his kiss. Relieved. Surely she was relieved. Walter Brunsig was a traitor and a terrorist, and not a man she wanted running through her thoughts in *any* capacity if she could avoid it. What was her brain even doing, conjuring up a scenario like that? ::With a groan of an entirely different sort, she tried to bury her face in her hands, only to be reminded that she was still in cuffs.:: Bondon: If you're quite finished. ::Quinn began to move, her head turning toward the source of the voice. Caught entirely unawares, she wasn't quick enough, and the toe of a booted foot slammed into her midriff, leaving her in pain while gasping for air.:: Bondon: No, no. Stay down. You and I need to have a conversation. Or rather, you need to talk, and I want to listen. --- Smith: Basically, Yiggs and Kos are convinced were asleep. that this is some sort of collective dream. what if.. :Hesitating for the third time:: what if they're right, what if we don't know each other on.. where ever there is. our friendship means a lot to me. I don't want it to go away. ::He started to tear up, and a singular tear fell down his cheek.:: Or worse what if one of us doesn't exist and is just a part of one of our dreams. I... don't know what to do Dav, it scares me. ::He fell against the wall and slid down it, his knees upright and his arms around them. his head in his lap. he broke down, endless thoughts of what might and might not be real went through his mind, Jang, his parents, old friends, were they real. was he real. he didn't know what to believe anymore, more tears started to fall, quickly he wiped them away trying to avoid anymore embarrassment he had caused himself. Looking up he saw Dav, she started to talk. even just looking at her he felt a tiny bit better. if he wasn't real he was glad to be spending time with her. --- ::While Trellis moved aside some papers Wheels went to a desk drawer and took out a pair of shot glasses. He poured drink into both, took the slug, refilled, and only then handed the other glass to Trellis. He too downed his shot and refilled it. All the while Wheels climbed out of his chair to relax on his bunk before actually looking at Trellis. The pure black Betazoid eyes staring back at him still managed to cause shivers down his spine whenever he looked into them for any amount of time. Tonight was no exception.:: Sim: ::in a mock Austrian accent:: So Mr Vondaryan, tell me about your dreams... Vondaryan: ::He ran a hand through his blond hair, letting out a deep sigh.:: Well, it was a series of images... ::He paused, trying to remember the exact details.:: There were shiny lights. And... and touch screens. And colored collars, I think... --- Lanta: Relax let the music take you, you don’t have to count listen to your heartbeat and feel your way naturally ::Emilia said nothing in return, only resuming her pace in response. Her gaze bridged with Ferier’s, instantly softening the echo against her chest. Emilia drew a shallow breath before quickly continuing her somewhat slow pace in dance. She couldn’t explain it, but the slight taste of fish formed against her taste buds as her feet pattered unendingly against the deck. Following the rhythm of each beat. Emilia moved each body part as if her heart was a metronome.:: Lanta: You dance excellently, Emilia. ::The use of her name sent chills down her spine. Sticks had never called Emilia by name before, and it was strangely familiar. Familiar enough to feel almost illusive, it was a very cold feeling. Amongst her chills, the song finished, and Emilia stood gracefully in her finishing poze, standing under Sticks’ chin. A breath escaped Emilia’s lips, followed by a soft panting. Once everything had finished, it was as if the fatigue finally had a chance to catch up.:: --- E. Reynolds: Quinn! ::Erin sprinted inside, the scent of copper hanging heavy in the air, dropping to her knees in front of the prone form of the Starfleet officer. Her twin was out cold, her face bruised and split, blood matting a patch of her brown hair, dusty boot prints visible on the dark material of her uniform. Her hands were still cuffed, her hands and wrists covered in welts, as though she'd been using them as a shield. The blood rushing in her hears, Erin reached for her sister's throat with a trembling hand, checking for a pulse, while behind her, Jo thumbed the controls of the internal intercom. A breath she didn't realise she'd been holding escaped when she felt that gentle, regular thump under her fingers.:: Marshall: =/\= Doctors, medical emergency in... in Quinn's quarters. Move it. =/\= --- th’Koro: Right, so have you ever heard of the last Thursday theory? Namura: I can't say that I have. ::Her eyebrow angled flawlessly.:: Care to enlighten? :: Excitement coursed through him but he realised that he can easily bore people with all of his weird Science things. He knew far too much about it :: th’Koro: ::Teasingly:: Well I could but it is long. Namura: It's not as though we haven't got the time here, Newbie. You're into the Science. Let's hear it. th’Koro: ::Taking a big breath in:: Basically, it suggests that the whole universe was created Last Thursday...or whatever day takes your fancy. And it is absolutely impossible to disprove. Like if you say, ‘ooh but I know what I was doing last Wednesday,’ I could just say, ‘ You were created with those memories last Thursday.’ See, a little Reductio ad Absurdum. --- Johns: Sweet saints of all that is holy, you scared the crap out of me. ::He lowered his hand with a brief flash of apology on his features and quelled his shallow but rapid breath.:: Can't you wear a bell or something? Sienelis: No. Johns: Look, I've already been tenderised like a cutlet with a beef mallet on Schulman. The Docs had to pull a five-inch stake out of my buttcheek. So, if you’re about to beat me up, know that I’m tired, and I haven’t shaved my legs. ::Her nose wrinkled, just a little, and she regarded him with clear dismay.:: Sienelis: Nothing you just said enriched my life. --- Stoyer: Well, you are a bit intimidating. Again, I have seen you use that frankengun Sparks put together for you. :: Ayiana couldn’t help but giggle. Did she really seem that way to people? :: Sevo: Sorry. I never really intended to come out looking like that. But you have to try that thing; it’s so fun! --- Smith: That was quick. Also you’re wearing my clothes. MacFarlane: Mine wash bein’ too loub. Beshidesh, ish nob all yersh, thish ish shtill my jacket. Smith: Still that’s my... Hang on were are your clothes Tasha? You could’ve just put them back on MacFarlane: Uhhh...I think m’ clothesh are in yer quartersh shomewhere? Maybe I forgetted where I leaved them. --- Brunsig: Why don't you call your union rep and we'll all have a sit down to discuss the unfair working hours of freedom fighters. ::Stoyer's voice started to rise as he continued. For someone who changed partners as often as most people changed their socks, he was surprisingly upset.:: Stoyer: I know you don’t like me, but remember one thing. I am not here for you or your revolution. I have my reasons. ::He shot a quick glance at Jo, then began to step away.:: Also, you might try if it is in your nature to be a bit nicer to your crew. You may just get more out of them. Brunsig: You're right! How could I be so blind. Someone's just beaten Reynolds into a pulp because there wasn't a guard on her door *as I asked*, ::he glared at Sevo,:: but clearly what everyone *really* needs is a cuddle and a round of Kumbaya from Papa Bear. --- ::When Corliss had been sent ahead to the ship, she...well she...wasn't expecting uh...what had happened. What happened was...she wasn't entirely sure? One moment she was in the ship the next...ah, she wasn't sure now that she was being pulled from the dreamland. She knew she was a mix of afraid and nauseous and her head was pounding a bit. She made a noise, her hand sliding up and covering her face.:: Reynolds: Ensign? Fortune, can you hear me? Fortune: ::mumbling:: Boss, shussshhh, I was dreaming.... --- th’Koro: I’ll only do it if money is involved. :: So the Andorian petaQ wanted to get “paid”, huh? Fine. Without warning, Ayiana swung her right fist at Thalas’ face, hitting him hard on the cheek. :: Sevo: There’s your payment! --- MacFarlane: Ah...that doeshn’t sheem wise...hash anybody eber told yeh tha’ yer a really nice shade o’ green? ::She reached out to try and touch him:: Yer a pretty man. :: The Saurian’s brow lifted a bit as his eyes widened at her comment. It was the first time that anyone had paid him such a compliment, besides his mother of course. Living in Boston, he never caught the attention of women. Even his own species seemed to look at him as a traitor for leaving Sauria and deciding to live among the soft skins. He knew it was the lingering effects of the alcohol but he took Tasha’s comment and smiled. :: Yiggtissi: Thanks Sparks. And for a soft skin and someone I consider a sister, you’re not bad yourself. --- Vondaryan: I didn't realize we had contracts. Maybe the Ferengi wrote them without telling us. Lanta: If thats the case we have a whle slew of backpay coming th’Koro: ::Glaring at Red:: That would be nice :: Samira said nothing. If someone had joined the Maquis with the idea to earn a living, they were surely mistaken. Red's reaction said it all. They should be happy to still be alive at the end of the day. :: Sevo: :: Facepalming. :: It’s a figure of speech. Anyway, Slick, Walter wants *you* to lead this investigation, because apparently you’re good at such things. --- Vondaryan: Right, as we observed from Red and Buttons here, we've got an assailant on the loose. Someone, and I'm not naming names, yet, defied Papa Bear's orders not to harm the Brainiac from Starfleet. We've got to figure out who. ::He rounded on the nearest person to him.:: So where were you an hour ago? ::He could smell the discomfort coming off of the rabble. Everyone was a suspect until they weren't. And right now everyone was a suspect. Except him, of course.:: --- Neathler: :: Trying to remain calm. :: Now why would I want to do that? I didn't even know you had a Fleeter on board, where she was kept captive or how she looks like. And even if I knew, you honestly think I would have kept a fleeter alive? :: Samira was furious, she shouldn't have said the latter but it was too late now. :: --- Sevo: I was having dinner with Stripper. In the galley. Tons of witnesses. ::Unfortunately, Tali could attest to that, with nauseating detail.:: th’Koro: Does this ship have cameras or something or any way to see the corridors in front of the quarters. Sevo: Ha! It’s not like this is a shiny Starfleet ship with a security guard on every corner. Namura: We only needed the *one* guard, to be fair. --- Fortune: ::She grinned:: I'd say it's fair to say not every day you see a brightly pink haired woman in normal company. I'm also very good with my words. However. You definitely owe me a party after this. ::She winked playfully, then winced, rubbing at her temple.:: I'm joking. What's the plan? ::Quinn managed a faint smile, having guessed at the joke — her startling pink hair was barely worth a second glance among the incredible diversity of a Starfleet crew. The Gorkon alone counted a huge variety of appearance among the individuals in residence; a purple-haired Antosian, blue-skinned and antennaed Andorians, a green-skinned, lizard-like Saurian, a Romulan, a battle-scarred and aged Klingon, and last but most definitely not least, a Pahkwa-thanh — a talking dinosaur in a Starfleet uniform.:: Reynolds: I'm sure that Lieutenant Nkai would be delighted to indulge your request. Nkai: Any excuse is a good excuse for a party, sir. --- The dream starts to unravel... --- :: They were currently standing in a small cave, with several tunnels leading off in different directions. In the center of the cave was a raised pool with murky, bubbling water. :: Sevo: I...I think this is a Symbiont pool. From Trill. Lanta: I don’t know but isn’t it beautiful --- :: Samira reached out with her right hand and let some of the confetti fall on her glove. The colorful material quickly changed color on touch down into snow white flakes. Yet something didn't feel right. She looked up, the cave was now filled with snowflakes, blurring the view, the seahorses and jellyfish were nowhere to be seen. Confused she looked at her glove, seeing the flakes were acting as a corrosion and started to eat the leather of her glove. In a bit of a panic she shook her hand trying to get rid of the flakes but it was in vain. :: :: Quickly she turned around, dashed out of the cave, back to the others, ran to the pool and quickly dipped her hand into the murky, bubbling water, hoping the water itself wasn't boiling. Shaking the excess of muddy water from her glove, she muttered her first words since she left the bridge. :: --- ::Without warning the lights flicked back on, brighter than ever. Trellis shielded his eyes from the sudden change in lighting. When his eyes had adjusted he noticed, at the end of the corridor, stood what he thought Humans called a "clown." A being with an obviously fake set of fiery-red hair, paint stains on its cheeks, and a fake, giant, red nose. It smiled to reveal a set of razor-sharp teeth that made the entire image unsettling.:: Namura: P-please tell me someone else sees him. Vondaryan: ::He hissed.:: The thing you call a clown? Yeah. And it's in my way. --- :: Lost in a universe of calamity and incalculable odds, the macrocosm had seen fit to join these two lights together in travel. The thought of losing that pained Yiggtissi to his core and if he could cry, there were would be tears staining his jacket as the two shared this moment in time. :: Sim: ::looking deeply into his friend's eyes:: Whatever happens here today, brother, I will always appreciate your friendship, your loyalty, and your alcohol abuse. ::he felt the tears watering at the corners of his eyes:: Now, lift me up on to that bed before I change my mind. Yiggtissi: :: He bent down and lifted him up. :: Whatever happens, we will find each other again my brother. Our travels are not complete yet. --- MacFarlane: We’re in Scotland ::frowning:: ‘ow th’ hell did we get ‘ere? Stoyer: Why are we here? What did you do? MacFarlane: I did nothin’! We came through t’ door an’-- --- Sevo: KID! What the hell are you--! :: The [unicorn] didn’t move, or even tremble. It freely let Kid touch it’s forehead in a bare place between plates of the armor. Carefully, Ayiana moved up as well. She got so close, she could feel the warm air one of them was breathing out its nostrils. She noticed a silver nametag on it, just like the others; the one in front of her said “Serenity.” :: :: Groznin turned back to Ayiana in confusion.:: Smith: Well what do we do? --- Lanta: ::muttering:: I wonder ::Without another word he climbed a rock near to one of the creatures and climbed the rock and then on to the unicorn. It stood patiently as if expecting it and looked round to make sure he was sat firmly. Then it turned and with no run up cleared the gap with one delicate seeming jump:: Smith: Umm.. ::Groznin was in amazement.:: Lanta: Looks like this is the way across guys --- Gravelled Voice: It's up here. We're to grab her kids and bring them up to the bridge. Rasping Voice: Lladre wants a bargaining chip, huh? Gravelled Voice: Something like that. Don't think his— ::there was a momentary pause, as if the owner of the voice was self-correcting,:: —*her* current plan is working out. ::It took Quinn a moment to realise that her phaser was already out of its holster, held in a vice-like grip. On this deck there was only one set of quarters hosting children — her own. The temptation to up the setting on her phaser was near irresistible, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to think straight. Now was not the time to lose her cool, as much as she wanted to charge around the corner and start shooting at the people threatening her son and daughter. --- ::Two guests, clad in plate armor and standing proud before the two humans were a pair of Unicorns. Slowly Tasha approached them and extended her right arm towards them, her flesh and blood arm. One of them, slightly smaller than its friend shook its mane and stepped towards her, lowering its head to sniff at her hand. She carefully petted it, her eyes brimming with tears of joy, the fear of moments ago completely forgotten. With a wide grin she looked over her shoulder at Cory.:: MacFarlane: Cory…look...Unicorns…it’s m’ dreams come true! --- E. Reynolds: I just… ::She kept her voice low, her words for the other woman alone.:: If we wake up and this is all… if *we're* not… ::She trailed off, unable to quite bring herself to say it.:: I just want to say that it doesn't matter. The way I feel about you, that's real. Marshall: ::Quietly,:: I know, sheya. I know. It's real for me too. ::She looked between them, at their laced fingers, and gave them a gentle squeeze.:: It'll be all right. Whatever happens, it'll be all right. ::She tried to smile, but it wouldn't quite come, worry lines running in parallel across her forehead. Swallowing, Erin reached for her partner, cupping her face in her hands and scooting up onto her tiptoes to steal a kiss fraught with fear and desperate affection. Jo pulled her close, arms around her waist, hands splayed on her back. Erin could feel her emotions reflected back at her, the aching sense that this was somehow a goodbye.:: Marshall: Whatever happens, whoever we are, I'm yours. ::Her voice wobbled in a way that made Erin's throat hurt, even more so when Jo tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, her skin tingling in the wake of her touch.:: Time to take a deep breath and face whatever this is together. --- ::He pirouetted his body around, darting forward towards the golden shade. It was an experience not dissimilar to swimming, but there was no water resistance, and it was solely a mental effort. His new body was a construct after all. Still holding Erin's hand, they travelled together towards the golden shade, who looked eerily similar to Erin's, except that she was clearly wearing a Starfleet uniform.:: Sim: It's not me, she is wearing a Starfleet uniform, right? E. Reynolds: She is, yes… Sim: Good. ::clearing his throat:: Quinn Reynolds. --- :: He kicked his knee out frantically and noticed a crack of light come through. He kicked again, causing the crack to become larger. He could hear the excitement from the voices but still, no idea who they were. He pushed out with his elbow and a different crack of light appeared. Yiggtissi began to shuffle his entire body and beams of light began to appear from everywhere. Suddenly, bright light rushed in blinding him once again. His stomach turned a bit as he felt as though someone picked him up and held him in mid-air. The cold air rushing around his body causing him to lose his breath. :: :: The white light began to fade slowly and his vision started to clear. The blurry images began to focus and in his mind, he was shocked. He saw the young face of his mother, who was holding him under his arms, his body dangling in the air. A loving smile streamed across her face as she turned to her husband, who was peering over her shoulder. :: Cairittin: Look at him, Tuk. Isn’t he wonderful? Tukmeeh: He has your eyes, Cairittin. --- :: Samira walked over to one of the cabinets and opened the door. Dozens of yellow rubber ducks fell out of the cabinet, quaking and making other noises. She slammed the door shut, ready to give the door another beating with her fist but stopped. There was no point, she'd only hurt her already fragile fingers. Instead she bent down, took one of the rubber ducks and threw it in the direction of the still dancing isolinear chips on the table, trying to break its formation. A couple of those chips jumped up, letting the duckie pass. The duck bounced from the table to the wall behind it, grew a set of wings and flew out the door into the corridor, quaking loud as if it was laughing at all of them. :: :: She took a few steps back and leaned against the bulkhead next to the doorway, crossing her arms in front of her. :: --- MacFarlane: ‘ow, what, who are yeh? ::The yellow teeth what showed from the smile disconcerted Cory. The beard was impressive Cory thought, as the little dude stroked it.:: Skar: A good question gal. What d’ ya want ta call me? ::He held up a hand before either of them could speak:: Sorry, that was not a very useful answer, I know. Ya can call me Skarbek, but I prefer Skar, but I will let you use whatever is better for ya mon. MacFarlane: Skarbek...yer named after our ship? Skar: Ya ship? Na mon, ya mah crew, I’m not ya ship. Ya didn’t think o’ that did ya gal. --- Reynolds: What the— ::Her gaze landed on Erin, and she scowled.:: You. ::Erin sucked in a sharp breath. Clearly something had happened between the two sisters in that moment.:: Sim: Commander Reynolds - Reynolds: Get out of my head. --- Skar: ::smiling widely:: Ey gal, its no troubal. Once ya undastand tha world ya live in, it is easy ta shape. Now go on, who knows how long that passage will remain open for ya mon. ::Tasha glanced at Cory, then back to Skar. He nodded encouragingly. Still unconvinced she looked to the Unicorns who neighed and pawed at the ground, gesturing with their horns for them to enter. Seeing no other option than to continue roaming the Highlands, Tasha dropped to her hands and knees and began crawling into the hole. It slowly widened, eventually to the point where Tasha could stand.:: ::Looking around Tasha was surprised, they appeared to be back on the Skarbek, in one of its narrow corridors. She looked back over her shoulder and saw Cory behind her, and no sign of the tunnel they had just passed through, only more corridor. Frowning she opened the nearest door and carefully stepped through, into the deflector maintenance bay, which had been her original goal.:: --- :: Ayiana brought up a biological scanning suite, and started scanning the pool of blood. It quickly returned a result; just not the one she was expecting. The top screen had a strange game playing out - a yellow smiley head eating through a row of dots, all leading through a maze to the center with a coin-like object. Four ghost-looking characters were chasing it. :: Sevo: Hmm. Very interesting. Neathler: Yeah very. --- Reynolds: Well, half. ::She didn't even attempt a smile at her own, half-hearted joke.:: My Dad... I think he's relieved too, underneath it all. And my brother and sister. She– ::Whatever Quinn had been about to say, it was lost as the sentence died in her throat. She shook her head and stared out past the shattered walls of sickbay, where a setting sun painted a rippling sea in shades of ruby and bronze. Sister? Singular? Didn't she have *two*?:: Reynolds: I love you, Walter. ::He flushed and stiffened, wanting to take a step backward and yet somehow unable to. What in the flaming hells was this? The words rang familiar in his ears, and feelings began to uncoil in his chest that echoed them. But what about Carys? How could some dream conversation feel more real that the memories of the woman he'd *married*? ::Quinn looked at him, a fragile smile on her face, as though she'd been expecting his reaction, playing out her part in the dream-memory without missing a beat.:: Reynolds: I'm not asking anything of you. I don't expect you to do anything about it. But you should know; you're loved. That's all I came here to say. --- :: Tired of everything Samira brushed away the figure that was still pulling at her hand. The girl fell on her bum in the middle of the table, yet stubbornly stood up, returned to Samira's hand, grabbed her thumb and started pulling again. Samira looked at the others not knowing what to do. Maybe she should just go back to her quarters and get some sleep. What if that was the solution to everything? She looked back at the girl on the table. The girl was now holding some kind of device in front of her mouth and shouted something through it. :: Girl: Follow the yellow brick road. Neathler: What yellow brick road? --- Skar: Ya mon! Ya know what I’m talkin’ about! ::Cory mumbled something vile under his breath and headed to assist Sparks. She grabbed the panel that was over the components they needed to fix and pulled it off. There was a sudden gasp from the little dude. Cory looked over at him.:: Skar: Ey gal! Be gentle! Those are mah insides ya are pullin’ an’ tossin’ around. --- ::Trellis could see the Trill coming out of her stupor, eyes fluttering open. She was still struggling to regain consciousness, let alone understand what was happening. He was fully cognizant of everything and didn't understand.:: Krugol: I-... Vondaryan: Shut it, just relax. ::To the others.:: We've got to get through that door. Thoughts on how to proceed? --- Sienelis: Ri'ran! ::Diverting away from the door, Valesha darted over to the woman and took her hands, trying to pull her to her feet. The woman didn't move, or even acknowledge Valesha's existence, going about her data entry as though there wasn't a full-grown adult tugging at her wrists.:: Johns: What's wrong with her? She's like a- Sienelis: Chris, please, help me! ::She looked at him with wide eyes.:: It's my mother, we can't leave her in here… she's going to— ::There was a dull, clunking sound that echoed through the bay. None of the inhabitants seemed to pay it much mind, barring a few stray glances, having got used to the odd sounds that the ship made around them and having little experience in living aboard a starship. But those who did, recognised it for the dire warning that it was. In response, Valesha pulled every more frantically at her mother's arms, but it was like trying to shift a statue.:: --- ::Cory quickly looked around, but didn’t see any umbrella except the one the little due was holding. Stepping forward he made a grab for it. He missed and the little dude quickly stepped away and just as fast bopped Cory on the head with the umbrella. He had never seen anyone move that fast. Cory growled a bit and tried to grab the umbrella again. And again he was bopped on the head. Cory swung a punch at the little dude. All of his frustration and anger boiling over. Missing and getting bopped again. Cory stepped back. The rain was continuing to fall. His head hurt from the boppings.:: oO All of this over an umbrella. Oo --- Reynolds: We'll take the turbolift. ::She glanced sideways at Nkai.:: Just stay with us a little while longer. ::He nodded, pain lining his ghost-white face and she guessed that was all he was capable of at this point. They shuffled forward, moving as fast as Nkai could manage, lurching toward the turbolift.:: ::Corliss slowly shuffled with him, seeing his pale face. Last time she saw someone that pale, they threw up in her lap at one of the bars her friends had dragged her too. Yuck. She knew this was from pain though, although she couldn't fault the man if he lost his lunch.:: --- ::Again Genkos kept quiet, waiting for Quinn to respond. She was clearly trying to decide what to tell them, if anything.:: Reynolds: Everyone aboard the Skarbek is a actually a Starfleet officer, and we serve aboard the same ship. Right now, someone is trying to steal that ship and I haven't yet figured out what purpose the collective dream has in— ::She stopped, frowning, and Genkos shivered. It seemed her realisation had made him cold:: Sim: What is it? Reynolds: My command codes. ::She shook her head.:: The codes you were after in the dream. They're actually the Gorkon's command codes. --- Sevo: Make...it...stop… *hurk* :: As the loop leveled out, Ayiana saw them heading towards a bright blue nebula. But instead of heading into it, the car looped around and towards a star; far too close for Ayiana’s comfort. She could feel the heat emanating from the cosmic fusion plant. Ayiana closed her eyes, and braced for collision with the dwarf star. When she expected to hit the surface, they instead flew right *through* the star, and back into darkness. Moments later, the car slowed and lurched to a stop. The bars around her retracted, and Ayiana scrambled out as fast as she could. :: Smith: WOHOO! That was fun. Can we do it again red!? Lanta: It was average at best Sevo: :: Heaving. :: ‘L-lemme ‘lone. *Hurk*--! :: Poor Cory. He worked so hard on that stew. :: Neathler: ::Grumbling. :: Leave me alone. Just give me a minute. --- ::Determined burned behind her blue eyes as she stared at the doctor, seized by whatever crackpot idea she'd had. The question was, was it completely crackpot, or only dreamworld crackpot?:: Marshall: Can you induce a hemorrhage? Without beating me to a pulp. ::Completely crackpot, then.:: Brunsig: ::He pinched his nose.:: What fresh new hell is this. --- ::In the distance Tasha heard the loud whistle of a steam locomotive, and, just as the rain around them changed to lumps of falling coal, Skar stepped close to them and the madness vanished. The rain remained, but thankfully it was a liquid once more, although it had taken on a smoky, black taint.:: Skar: See mon. I’m on ya side. I’m tryin’ ta protect ya from, oh hey wow! Another one bites the dust! MacFarlane: Another one bites th’ dust? Stoyer: What are you talking about? Skar: Ya doctor, the Saurian ya call Yiggs. He woke up! --- ::The young one, barely out of childhood by the looks of him, paced back and forth. Bondon kept his eyes down, assessing the situation.:: Smith: Let’s start with your name. What is it? Bondon: ::He snorted.:: Like I'm going to tell you that. Bondon don't tell nobody his name. --- Everyone: Three! Two! One! ::He closed his eyes one more time. The shiny walls were at least not full of desiccated bodies. That was a plus.:: Vondaryan: Where are we now? I- I don't recognize this place. --- Sevo: How rude. Perhaps a fist to your face might loosen your tongue? :: Ayiana raised a balled fist towards Bondon’s face threateningly. :: Bondon: No, I don't think I will. Maybe *you'd* like a punch to the face! :: Before she could react, Bondon somehow freed himself from the ropes, and swung a blade that he had somehow managed to get a hold of. Ayiana jumped back, trying to dodge the knife, but she wasn’t quite fast enough; the knife cut a large hole in her shirt. :: Lanta: Watch out! Sevo: Oy! This is my favorite shirt! --- Lladre: Then that's our cue to leave. Alert the others, we'll meet them aboard our ship. ::There was one last thing to do before they left. As Ana contacted the rest of their team, Lladre shifted the one device they had yet to use to the centre of the bridge, tapping out a few quick commands. Lights flashed into existed on its control panel, flicking on and off in something that looked suspiciously like a countdown.:: Lladre: We're set. Let's go. ::Ana nodded, and three transporter beams materialised on the bridge, stealing away the two thieves and the unique device they'd used to pacify the crew. Through the confinement beam, she could see people starting to stir, and was entirely unable to resist a mischievous wave as she vanished in front of their eyes::

This is a general appreciation for Ensign Corliss Fortune, who has recently joined the Gorkon in the middle of what can only be described as a nightmare (quite literally) and has really taken to it like a duck to water. I look forward to reading your posts; they're engaging and descriptive, with a lot of characterization. Keep it up! --- ((Ready Room, USS Gorkon)) Reynolds: ::Low,:: Nkai, we're going to need to get you back to sickbay. ::Corliss watched them uncertainly, feeling a small chill and shivering a bit.:: Nkai: But , uh… ::He winced.:: We should think about getting our hands on tricorders first. If we know where they are, we can move around the ship safely. Fortune: I agree. If we end up face to face with them all of a sudden, it could end very badly. I don't think we're fit to fight off more than one or two of them, if that. Reynolds: There's a supply locker in the corridor by my quarters. ::Quinn glanced between Nkai and Fortune. Corliss smiled reassuringly, or she hoped it came off that way, and not nervously.:: Ensign, would you check if we're clear to head out, and then lead the way? ::She nodded her head toward the panel that would take them out into the corridor.:: Fortune: Yes, Captain, not a problem. ::Corliss pressed her ear to the panel first, slowly taking the handle and tugging the panel open. She kept her eye to the slit in the panel as it slowly opened wider. No one she could see, so she peeked out more, her head sliding free of the tube as she looked around. She gave them both a thumbs up behind her, no one was there but it didn't mean they didn't have ears around. Corliss shuffled her way through the narrow opening silently, bracing one leg up and vaulting over it, her feet making a creaking noise in her boots as she landed and opening the panel all the way. She nodded.:: Fortune: ::whispering:: Looks clear, Sir. Reynolds: Response Fortune: Yes, sir! ::Corliss made sure the panel was not going to slam on them, looking over her shoulder a few times just in case as she helped the captain out first, then holding her arm elbow out in a crooked angle for Nkai.:: Fortune: Here, I've got good leverage, just hold on if you need to, okay? Nkai: Thanks. ::Corliss held in a grunt as she helped him out, swaying with him for a moment before righting herself, her arm tight to keep him up. She smiled back as he smiled at her, although he still looked tired and worn.:: Fortune: Not a problem! ::She watched as the Captain looked around. One had his mouth half open, as if in mid talk when he fell 'asleep', and she frowned. Their thoughts were completely muffled, or nonexistent, which measured up to being asleep. Jumbled thoughts were fun yet horrible to hear as they made no sense, and some just didn't think, just dreamed. She shook her head. The ones that were meaningful were hers, Nkai's and the Captain's, which she dutifully kept low on listening so as not to seem intrusive. Nothing was too loud so they weren't close...yet.:: Reynolds: All right, ::she spoke quietly:: let's get ourselves equipped and move on as soon as we can. There's a turbolift just at the end of the corridor, we can use that to get to sickbay once we're ready. Fortune: Okay, no problem. ::Corliss opened the locker easily, nudging aside a few things as she got out what they needed. She clipped a phaser on as well, clutching a tricorder as she started it up, eyes on the map before she froze a bit, hearing the sudden voices. Her eyes found the Captain as she sucked in a small breath.:: Gravelled Voice: It's up here. We're to grab her kids and bring them up to the bridge. oO Kids? Oh..oh no... Oo Rasping Voice: Lladre wants a bargaining chip, huh? Gravelled Voice: Something like that. Don't think his— ::there was a momentary pause, as if the owner of the voice was self-correcting,:: —*her* current plan is working out. ::Corliss shivered a bit. That was so cold to hear, that someone would use CHILDREN in a plan. She licked her lips nervously, weighing her weight onto one side in case they decided to sprint for it. She nodded at the Captain, looking over at Nkai nervously before ducking into the alcove, grazing over the thoughts of the two ahead of them. There was no alarm or alertness, so they hadn't heard them..yet.:: Reynolds: ::Low,:: Nkai, get down. Pretend you're asleep. ::Corliss tried to give a reassuring smile at Nkai, resting into the alcove while keeping an eye on where the voices where coming from.:: Fortune: ::Low:: Sir? Reynolds: ::Low,:: My quarters are there, ::she gestured to a set of doors behind them,:: so they'll be coming this way. Make sure your phaser's on stun and take your shot when you're ready. They're not expecting us. ::Rage was still boiling in her belly, incandescent at the thought of anyone so much as daring to touch her children. Violence was usually something she abhorred, but there was a small piece of her that was looking forward to dropping these particularly people to the deck.:: Fortune: ::Low:: Yes sir. ::She double checked her phaser, sliding the tricorder onto the floor slowly, careful to only make the softest of noises. They couldn't afford to mess this up. She curled up onto her side, as if relaxing, her phaser pointed towards the hallway, her eyes flicking back to the Captain before focusing again. She was ready and waiting for whoever-or whatever-appeared in front of them.:: Ensign Corliss Counselor USS Gorkon G239510CF0

((Corridors, The Skarbek)) ::The whole sickbay scene unravelled itself in chaos, Red herself making an entrance, followed by an entourage of The Kid, aka Groznin. Shortly after the commotion gathered steam, Papa Bear himself arrived on scene, delivering a stern order to for lack of better words, “Get some damn rest”. After criticising the current situation on board of course.:: ::The situation itself, was a shamble. After passing out for god knows how long, suddenly, there seemed to be an epidemic of sleepwalking, something that seemed to question the very boundaries of reality as the crew knew it. There was more than enough evidence to note that there was some other force pulling the strings here. The only trouble was… how could they possibly find out? How could a ship filled to the brim with skeptics possibly question the norms of their own reality, when they won’t even accept the facts layed out in front of them?:: ::Emilia was in no state to contemplate the matter of reality, of course, what she needed right now was “some damn rest” as the captain said it. Her boots tapped endlessly down the hallways, her body a sweaty mess and her hair… her hair was the subject of a definite talk with Sticks. Perhaps he required a lesson in hair care, lest he lose his scalp physically, rather than metaphorically.:: ::Emilia made a sharp left turn on her heel, once again travelling down the all too familiar, manky corridor that she called home. The main form of lighting once again flickering under the worn out wiring, highlighting the unfinished wall panels parallel to the scorch mark covered door. The ever prevalent scars left from the countless electrical fires, once again smiling at Emilia as she entered the cozily small room.:: ((Personal Quarters, The Skarbek)) ::Emilia took in a deep breath as an audible ‘whoosh’ signaled the closing of the doors. Promptly her eyes drifted over to the vacant bed. The sheets fitted to perfection and the blankets left as if nobody had slept there for months, just as mother taught her. A single book sat in the centre of the bed, it’s glossy cover highlighting under the pale light, a small piece of velvet lining stuck out of the pages, marking a spot for continuation.:: ::With a small smile, Emilia slipped her boots off with a swift unzipping motion freeing both legs from that cage of worn leather and sweat. Emilia’s feet energetically pounced her body forward, the soft springs of her bed (arguably the most comfortable spot on the ship) cushioning her fall.:: ::In an instant, her hungry eyes seized the book’s form, Emilia’s nails jamming in between the marked crevices of the novel. Dramatically and slowly, she freed the printed text from darkness that plagued the pages. The relief of escaping to a world of fantasy upon her once more, as she set her famished eyes on the bold, black letters that sunk deeply into the pages.:: ::It felt rather ironic really, suspecting one of dreaming, but once again indulging in the dreams of another man. Quite odd really? Perhaps it was… but the line between dreams and reality appeared to thicken once again as Emilia occupied her thoughts on the coarse pages. Though, she still couldn’t shake the feelings she had earlier. Each image within her mind, sticking with her like glue. Each recollection, causing a strangely ghostly feeling to reach through the very centre of her chest.:: ::But what could it all mean?:: _______________________ Emilia “Princess” Krugol -- Maquis Escort -- Skarbek ________________________ Simmed by ________________________ Ensign Emilia Krugol -- Security/Tactical Officer -- USS Gorkon -- G239409EK0 ________________________

((Midnight - Vessine Glade Camping Site, Trill)) ::The evening had worn on. Some had retired to their tents relatively early, while others seemed determined to party until the point of collapse. Unusually, she couldn't see Nkai leading the charge on that one, and she wondered what drunken mishap had befallen the Rodulan to take him out of the running so early. Perhaps something involving Marshall -- his chief conspirator in arms -- given that there was no sign of her, either. ::Her attention was drawn away from the revelries by the approach of a tall, broad blond. Dressed in jeans, a light shirt and sturdy boots, Walter looked perfectly at home in the countryside. He'd been missing for most of the evening, stealing away to the forests for a walk. One hell of a walk, given how long he'd been gone and how dusty his boots were. She didn't resent him the solitude -- she understood his need for it, especially now that he was captain of one of the most cramped ships Starfleet had to offer. Everyone lived in each other's pockets aboard a Defiant, and it was hard for people like them.:: Reynolds: There you are. Good walk? ::He grunted in the affirmative, and took a seat next to her, surveying the scene in front of him. He smelt of the forest, of sweet tree sap and rich, earthy soil, and it was glorious. Oblivious to her appreciation, Walter watched the crowd, snorting in sardonic amusement at the drunken antics unfolding in front of him.:: Brunsig: Tomorrow will be filled with hangovers and regret. Reynolds: ::She chuckled.:: No doubt. ::As they sat there, he reached into his pocket, retrieving a small item and pressing it into her hand. The manoeuvre caught her by surprise, and he clearly anticipated her first question, answering her before the words had been formed in her throat.:: Brunsig: It was Oma Else's. ::Walter's grandmother. Quinn had only met her a few times, and it was quite clear where he had got his temperament from. The woman was as sharp as monofilament knife, in both intellect and tongue. She was a judge, and a skilled cellist, and Quinn had rarely heard anything so beautiful as the melodies she'd played -- except perhaps the duet grandmother and grandson had performed.:: Brunsig: She wants you to have it. Old family heirloom. ::Quinn looked down at the item in question. The small, luxurious box indicated that it was it was a piece of jewellery, though the blush-red of the fabric covering was faded with age, threadbare at the edges of the hinged lid.:: Reynolds: Shouldn't it go to your mum, then? Brunsig: ::He shook her his head, a frown pinching his blond brow together.:: Since she wisely extricated herself from He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, and hitched up someone who actually treats family like human beings instead of punching bags, she's out of the running. ::That made sense, though it wasn't something she'd expected. She knew that Else had kept in touch with Walter's mother, and had supported her throughout the separation and divorce. But divorce meant that Annalise was no longer Else's daughter-in-law, and technically no longer in line to inherit. The thinking seemed a bit antiquated for the woman, but then again, so was the item in question -- perhaps Else was leaning on tradition more strongly for an heirloom than she otherwise would.:: Reynolds: I see. ::She looked down at the box, and began to push the lid open with her thumb when Walter spoke again.:: Brunsig: I asked you a question. ::For a moment, she was off-guard. Had she got lost in her own thoughts? It did happen, but she was quite sure it hadn't just happened. So what in the world was he talking about?:: Reynolds: ...No you didn't. ::He sighed and frowned, impatience mixed with something else that was quite unfamiliar. She resisted the temptation to reach out and touch him, and gain that extra, telepathic insight into his thoughts. It was a cheat, and an invasion, and at best it would annoy him.:: Brunsig: And you said you needed some time to answer it. ::The air got stuck in her lungs as she forgot how to breathe. *That* was what he was talking about? He wasn't wrong, she'd never given him a definitive answer… but then again, the question had been posed years and years ago. It was only when her head began to spin through lack of oxygen that she forced herself to suck in a deep breath, spluttering out her surprise afterwards.:: Reynolds: This-- ::She pointed a finger at the offending box in her palm.:: This is an engagement ring? Brunsig: If you want it to be. It's up to you what finger your wear it on, it's yours either way. I'm under instructions from Oma; "Sie hat dich so lange ertragen, mein Junge. Sie geht nirgendwohin. Sie ist Familie." ::Quinn's German was just about good enough to piece together the meaning. She couldn't imagine being with anyone else -- she didn't *want* to be with anyone else -- and she knew the feeling was mutual. He was hers, and she was his, and together with Dylan and Amelia, they really were a family. A slightly odd and somewhat complicated family, but nonetheless. ::Family. ::Her delay in responding prompted a frown from Walter, and he started to turn away. Impulsive and desperate to avoid causing him any pain, she leaned across, catching his cheek with her hand and pressing her lips against his. Such public displays of affection were usually anathema to them both, but he answered her kiss with the same abandon, caught up in the heat of that unique, curious moment where they were transitioning from devoted lovers to a couple engaged.:: Reynolds: Let's get married. ::She murmured the words against his mouth, and he responded in kind.:: Brunsig: If we must. ::She leaned back and laughed, shaking her head, and he grinned back at her. A flush of pink had caught hold on his pale cheeks, and Quinn was quite sure it was echoed on her own. Their shared blush only deepened when he flicked open the box in her palm, plucking the antique ring from its cradle, taking her left hand in his. ::The diamond cluster glittered in the firelight, flames reflected in the intricate gold band. It was beautiful -- perhaps a little more extravagant than she'd choose for herself -- but she was proud (perhaps a little terrified) to be the new bearer of a Brunsig family heirloom. To her surprise, it slipped onto her ring finger as though it had been made for her.:: Reynolds: It fits. Brunsig: I had it resized. Reynolds: You know my ring size? *I* don't even know my ring size. ::He huffed, rolling his eyes. Despite the show of annoyance, he was still holding her hand, and that shared connection betrayed the amusement and fondness in his heart. Walter didn't say it often, but he loved her, just deeply as she loved him.:: Brunsig: It never ceases to amaze me how someone as capable as you can be so utterly hopeless. Reynolds: It's part of my charm. Brunsig: ::Dryly,:: You keep telling yourself that, Cupcake. ::She grinned at him, and despite his best efforts, he smiled back, sliding his arm around her waist. There was a lot to think about, such as where to hold it, who to invite -- she knew for a fact her father would hunt her down to express his extreme dismay if he didn't get to be there -- and even how they'd marry. But for now she was content to enjoy the moment; the simple pleasure of being close to him and watching the world go by.:: -- Rear Admiral Quinn Reynolds Commanding Officer USS Gorkon T238401QR0

(( Science Lab 22, Biochemistry Lab, Deck 8, USS Gorkon)) ::The lab was silent, ghostly even, the occasional sound of footsteps tapping along the deck plating, or the clanging of glass partially filling the absence of noise:: ::T’Pann’s slender body slouched over a metallic workbench, her dark, hawk like gaze, watching over a see-through petri dish. Accompanied by several analysis devices and a high powered microscope, cluttering the space around her. One hand, T’Pann used to hold the dish still, and another gently holding a tube full of a brightly coloured, yellow fluorescent liquid. T’Pann’s expression continuing it’s stoic dominance over her features. The steel bench was cluttered with PADDs, tricorders and other scientific equipment.:: ::T’Pann’s cold stare was broken ever so suddenly, by the dry sound of the doors sliding open, halting her from completing the next stage of her experiment. Irritation draped T’Pann’s features momentarily as several annoyingly energetic footsteps led to the inevitable breathing down her collar, all seeming to come much too soon. The peaceful silence of the labs, broken by a cheerful whisper, that escalated into a blaring shout.:: Sterling: So! Whatcha doin’? ::T’Pann moved away from the workbench, the tube still in her hand and her ringing like a bell. Only for the half vulcan’s eyes to meet with a familiar Tiburon/Terran hybrid, one who seemed to appear in the science labs far too often for than she really should. Ensign Iriin Sterling, a medical officer, primarily assigned to the ship’s morgue, sometimes referred to as ‘Mortisha’ by the crew, mostly due to her oddly cheerful approach to her profession.:: T’Pann: Rather delicate work, Ensign, I’d prefer it if you were a little more silent, i’m unable to focus when my ears are ringing. ::T’Pann spoke with a hint of sass in her tone, obviously attempting to express her displeasure of Sterling’s unrequired presence.:: Sterling: Sorry! I couldn’t help it! Our shifts ended early, mostly to celebrate being accident free for, get this, a whole 25 hours! :Her excitement bubbled like a steaming pot, bubbles of gigling joy practically secreting from her.:: ::Iriin backed off slowly, her posture easing onto an unoccupied console. T’Pann was oddly surprised at Iriin’s uncharacteristically docile state, much of the time she was described as, to put it lightly “Targ stool crazy.” by the other science staff that worked with her. Often taking to her work much more extreme methods than regulation would allow, often leading expedition teams into her idea of ‘fun’.:: T’Pann: I’m happy for you ::She replied in a sarcastic tone.:: Perhaps next time, a plasma burn may be more opportune. Sterling: Oh please! You love my presence! ::As T’Pann replied, she placed the tube of yellow liquid in a small rack beside the petri dish, before turning back to her salmon tinged crewmate.:: ::Truth be told, T’Pann found it difficult to maintain her stoic, “vulcanness” over her human side, especially around types such as Sterling, or even the more colourful Gorkon crew. The crew lacked harmony amongst their ranks, T’Pann often found herself concerned about the rowdiness demonstrated by the crew.:: Sterling: ::Iriin stepped forward:: So… aren’t you gonna introduce me to your… organisms? ::Iriin gestured to the experiment set up.:: T’Pann: Yes, you may. They’re a newly discovered form of amoeba, our scans detected them while we were in orbit of Sikuna. They replicate in a very odd manner, the amoebas use the remains from their own self combustion to reproduce at the end of their 2-4 minute lifecycle. Which seems to replace a cycle similar to mitosis. We have yet to figure out how this effect is achieved, our scanning equipment is not effective enough to penetrate the membranes of the organisms, let alone, locate the biological factors involved. ::T’Pann picked up a PADD.:: My hypothesis is that the proteins leftover contain the organism’s genetic information, which perhaps may be able to replicate itself, into forming a simplistic life form. Sterling: Interesting… though, i don’t understand why you’re not trying to modify a scanner. T’Pann: We’ve tried, yet our facilities aren’t advanced enough to attempt such an upgrade, though, we have several engineers on task with a tricroder that can scan the membrane. If we were on an Oberth Class, a Nova Class or even on Vulcan however, we’d be able to find a much simpler, and effective way through the membrane. However, since we are not on said starships, or planet, we must adapt using what materials we have. Sterling: That’s one hell of a membrane. Though, i do see your point. Our facilities aren’t as sciencey, or advanced as some other ships. It’d be a very bad idea if you had an Oberth class on the frontlines of the though, they’re science ships. I’d love to see the day when we get one of those Prometheus Class sickbays. I heard that the EMH program has shipwide access. ::T’Pann pouted slightly, turning away from the joyful Tiburon before her, picking up the tube of yellow liquid once again and placing the PADD nearby. T’Pann prepared herself to pour a small amount onto the petri dish, to act as a dye, which would allow her to observe the replicative process more closely. An archaic measure it was, as the countless exo/xenobiologists on board had been unable to scan the organisms more precisely. It appeared the membranes and the proteins were made up of an epidermal material that resisted conventional means, putting this advanced and civilised organisation in a tough space of waiting for an upgrade, or doing what they could in the name of science. T’Pann added several drops of the yellow liquid to the dish, before quickly slotting it onto the stage of the high powered microscope.:: T’Pann: That would be quite convenient. ::T’Pann’s icy, vulcan glare travelled down the eyepiece, observing a whole colony of yellow coloured, shapeless forms, going about their business as usual. Consuming nutrients, and reproducing. T’Pann watched carefully at the process of an organism over indulging, only to ignite itself moments later. In a matter of seconds the burnt remains slowly reconstructed vaguely similar life form, shortly before being interrupted once again by her loudmouthed colleague, but with a somewhat unheard of hushed tone.:: Sterling: So.. T’Pann, Baidan and I were wondering whether or not you’d be interested in filling in a spot at our jazz recital, which we’ve arranged to perform at the awards ceremony. One of our strings people had to pull out last minute, and we were wondering if you’d fill in with your... vulcan harp thingy ::T’Pann turned away from her microscope, turning to the salmon coloured medical officer on the tip of her heel. Her stoic impression, unchanged. The offer mildly peaked her interest, T’Pann had grown quite withdrawn from the instrument she’d been playing for years on end. She wasn’t exactly jumping at the opportunity, but nevertheless, it interested her to see how well a vulcan hard would fit in amongst the band.:: T’Pann: When will I be required to participate. Sterling: Hopefully after your duty shift, we were gonna have a meeting later tonight at 18:00 hours on holodeck 1, and maybe we’ll squeeze in a jam session, so bring your harp!. ::Iriin spoke, finishing her sentence with a ‘jazz hand’:: T’Pann: I will… consider your offer, I will see if I can accommodate your performance into my schedule Sterling: ::Iriin deepened her voice.:: It would be most illogical not to participate. I need another set of strings to go with my fiddle ::T’Pann sighed deeply, replying to Iriin’s vulcan impression with a disappointed glare.:: T’Pann: If you’re attempting to appeal to my human side, it is just as unimpressed as my vulcan side, Ensign Sterling. Sterling: ::S[...]ing.:: Well, it was worth a shot. ::Iriin tapped T’Pann’s shoulder, before shortly retreating to the door.:: See you at the meeting. Don’t be late! ::T’Pann replied with a solid nod, returning to her work of proving her own hypothesis. An oddly potent hum cut through the silence of the lab as data seemed to pour into her PADD, seeming to offer T’Pann a greater deal of focus in her work.:: ___________________________ Crewman 1st Class T’Pann - USS Gorkon - Science Officer ___________________________ Simmed By _________________________ Ensign Emilia Krugol - USS Gorkon - Security/Tactical officer - G239409EK0 __________________________

((Yzieme Beach, Trill)) ::The light was fading from the sky about the same time as the sun began to set in the old man's eyes. ::The blond woman -- who had but this morning been Kudrem Kian -- sat cross-legged on the beach, nestled amongst the pale white sands. She was a stranger to many, barely a footnote on a ship that regarded crew as family. But even those few who knew her, would have been hard-pressed to recognise her. A fire blazed in her eyes, fierce and passionate, transforming her whole body. No more was she the shade stalking the corridors, seeking refuge in oblivion, terrified that everyone would realise that she was a failure. Now she was filled with passion and purpose, straight-backed and determined. ::Kudrem Kian was gone. Lladre had been reborn. ::Laid in front of her, head cradled in her lap, holding her hands as they lay upon his chest, was the man who had offered to help her only a few days earlier. He too was different. With the symbiont removed, his hold on life was fading fast. He was no longer Lladre; Perdut had been his name when he had been born, and that was what it would be when he died. Perdut: You shouldn't have done this. You don't have the time. ::She looked down at him, a fond and gently amused smile on her lips.:: Lladre: You of all people know that I don't like to be told what to do. ::Oh, he did. And how he'd loved it; the rebellion, the freedom, the carefree way that Lladre had lived their lives. The symbiont had offered everything he'd ever wanted, and so much more besides. He was dying now, but it was as a man contented and at peace.:: Perdut: How's Kian? Lladre: In stasis. That's more than it deserves. ::She snorted, and her lip curled in disgust.:: Weak-willed little creature. I would've recycled it with the rest of the garbage, except I think it'll be useful. ::Lladre had nothing but contempt for Kudrem's former symbiont. It had been wasting the life of a talented host, letting her wallow in misery and mediocrity when it could have been guiding her to greatness. They had only been joined a few hours, but already the woman was happier than she ever had been with Kian. ::Perdut smiled in reply, weariness barely lifting the corners of his mouth. He had, after all, heard much worse from the symbiont. They had *done* much worse. And he regretted none of it. Laws and morals were nothing more than the excuses of the weak-willed and passionless.:: Perdut: That's good. You'll need the insurance. Stealing from Starfleet will cause you some trouble. Lladre: For a little while, no doubt. ::She chuckled, smiling down at him again.:: But I have a plan for that. ::He smiled, and it felt like an effort that would move mountains. That didn't escape Lladre's notice, and her expression turned mournful, her hands squeezing his tightly.:: Lladre: I'm going to miss you. ::It was Perdut's turn to chuckle, a quiet, rasping wheeze of a sound. His time was ending.:: Perdut: I'll always be with you. ::He looked away from her, toward the stars glimmering in the sky, breathtaking in their beauty. He'd seen so many of them, experienced wonders that he couldn't even begin to describe. Lladre had taken him from his tiny, miserable life and given him a gift beyond measure. Every memory was a treasure, and he let them flood through his mind, filling his heart and soul with joy.:: Perdut: Thank you. ::He died with a smile on his lips, a solitary tear on his cheek. It was joined by more, falling from Lladre's eyes, as she leaned over to kiss his forehead. The decision to move on from Perdut had been one of the hardest she'd had to make, and his loss was keenly felt.:: Lladre: Thank *you*. ::She sat there for some time, the heat fleeing his body as the night cooled. Then, a quiet chime came from the device in her pocket, reminding her that time ever marched on. With a deep sigh, she untangled herself and stood, leaving him there in the sand, resting forever under the stars.:: -- Rear Admiral Quinn Reynolds Commanding Officer USS Gorkon T238401QR0

((USS Gorkon, Deck 5 5OQ23, Tasi’s Quarters)) ::There was nothing more boring than waiting and after the last mission Tasi needed to talk to a friendly face. On the Gorkon she hadn’t really connected with anyone yet. There were a good number of people she could call on Deep Space 26, but the time difference meant most would be asleep or on the night shift. That’s what she told herself but deep down she knew it was a deflection from the real reason she had chosen to dial up this particular old friend. Finally, the slowly spinning Federation Symbol and ‘connecting’ progress bar were replaced with a familiar face. Tasi’s slack jawed, glazed over expression instantly melted away. She beamed at him with sparkling eyes and a playful smile.:: Tasi: Hello Commander. I hope you’re not too busy for a social call. I thought I’d keep that promise about keeping in touch. Tasi: oO I hope he wasn’t just being polite about that. Oo ::Tasi didn’t usually use rank around her friends - not off duty. She hadn’t seen Shayne since Commander Brell’s promotion to Captain and before that they’d fallen out of touch for some years. His career had prospered while hers had stagnated and she didn’t know how informal she could be with him yet.:: ::The face that appeared on the screen could not have been more welcome. The melancholy that always followed social occasions had weighed down on him since the end of the promotions ceremony. He’d been hoping- vainly, he’d expected- for a pleasant interruption to his musing, and a restoration of the energy that had been drained from his every faculty. Shayne was not a social person, but for a select group, that fact seemed to not apply. Take Tasi, for instance.:: Shayne: ::Feigning irritation.:: Look. If we’re on the bridge, call me commander. If we’re in the presence of an admiral, call me commander. Anything else, please just call me Shayne. ::She was one of the few people he preferred to drop rank around- not because he was a career-minded, bureaucratic paper-pusher obsessed with position and title, but because it simplified so many situations that might otherwise veer in an unpredictable, uncomfortable direction. Besides, Tasi had kept her promise to keep in touch with him, and Shayne was hardly going to punish her by insisting on strict military protocol. For the length of this conversation, “proper” bearing could find an airlock to fly out of. He gave a small grin, which she returned. It felt good to know that they could still have good-natured banter like this without having to worry about the rank barrier.:: Shayne: ::Utterly genuine.:: It’s good to see you. ::He realized he’d been holding his breath, and he released it, hopefully escaping the notice of the perceptive Tasi. Fortunately for him, she was too occupied suppressing signs of her own relief to notice his.:: Tasi: Thank you. It’s wonderful to see you. What’s new with you? ::Before he could stop himself, a putrid wave of resentment and cynicism rolled over him, a mere drop in an ocean of festering negativity. Pond’s disappearance had gnawed at his soul for months now. Though he’d tried to contain it, he suddenly felt utterly exhausted, and the moment he’d spoken, he knew he was making a mistake.:: Shayne: I haven’t died yet, so the usual. ::He bit his lip loathingly, wishing he could take back his words, and the vigorous anger he’d flashed at Tasi. She was so not deserving of his rancor- indeed, she was probably the one that would help him do something about it. Shayne generally despised counselors, and their offices, and their practiced strokes that delved into the psyche. As far as he was concerned, they could keep their intellectual tenderhooks to themselves. But with Tasi, it was different. Deeply different, and he was still at a loss to explain why, exactly. But it didn’t matter. He could not afford to lose her.:: ::Tasi was stunned. She’d had friends and patients lash out in this sudden, unexpected way many times before. Sometimes there were behavioural tells that gave subtle clues that this could be coming. Other times it hit you like a punch in the face. This felt like the latter. She hadn’t seen it coming and didn’t know what had provoked it. This didn’t seem like the Shayne she knew, but then how well could she say she knew someone she’d barely talked to in years. She became aware of her heart pounding harder and faster in her chest and took a slow, deep breath, collecting her thoughts before replying with a measured tone tipped with concern.:: Tasi: It doesn’t take a counsellor to see something’s troubling at you. Would you care to talk about it - friend to friend? ::Counselors! Why did they have to be so infernally perceptive? Of course, it wasn’t like he’d done a good job of hiding his distress. He glanced at her, and for a moment in time, it seemed like she was strained, worried.:: ::Afraid.:: ::And it felt wonderful, inexplicably so, disgustingly so. It felt so utterly etherial to be the one causing concern, instead of the one marinating in his own terrors and doubts and worries and miserable musings. For an instant, he was free.:: ::And then it all came crashing back down. How dare he feel anything positive about his friend’s discomfort. How dare he turn her well meaning, loving concern into a stepping stone for his own emotional strength. How dare he use her, the first friend he’d ever had in the fleet, and nearly the first one ever. He couldn’t have felt more soiled if he’d messed his trousers. He took a shaky, self-hating breath, and began to repair the damage.:: Shayne: I apologize. You, of all people, do not deserve me as you see me. ::Already exhausted, he let it all go, far more easily than he normally did with privileged information of this sort.:: ::He stared at it, at Tasi, at it, back at Tasi.:: Shayne: Pond has vanished. I don’t know where she is, or even if she’s alive. I haven’t spoken with her in months. ::As he said this, he began to pace, and absentmindedly fiddle with his full, lush ponytail. At the word “months”, he twisted, and ripped a sizable wad right out of his head.:: ::He stared at it, at Tasi, at it, back at Tasi.:: Shayne: ::Matter of factly.:: Ow. ::Whoever this Pond was, she clearly meant a lot to him for him to be so worried. It was hard to resist the urge to tell him everything would be okay. It never felt like things would ever be okay again when wrestling with grief and loss. Life moved on though. It was the harsh truth and to say so would be nothing other than callous. His emotions were completely normal though it would come as small comfort. Time was the only thing that could ease his pain, and having channels to vent his emotions. She wasn’t his counsellor - he had options aboard his ship for that, but that didn’t mean she couldn’’t be there for him as a friend.:: Tasi: I am sorry Randal. There’s nothing anyone can say to ease the pain and worry of someone we care about going MIA. I’m sure it comes as small comfort right now, but it’s normal to feel worry and grief. I just want you to know that I’m here for you. Do you want to talk more about it? Shayne: No. Most definitely, assuredly not. ::There was nothing more to say on the matter- certainly nothing Tasi deserved to receive. Maybe a trip to the holodeck would be in order, before he beat someone into a pulp. Or ripped out any more of his usually well-tended locks.:: Shayne: The Gorkon! How is it? Finding your way there? Is it as crazy as I’ve always heard? You know, I always wanted to transfer there, just to see what it was like. ::Through the midst of this loud, forced menagerie of preposterous questions and outright falsehoods, he could feel the disciplined part of himself recoil in horror at his explosive exposition.:: Shayne: oO Shut up, you ragged, impotent fool, shut up! Oo ::His goal had been to cover his despair, but he had failed spectacularly. Tasi knew this was a deflection. He was hurting very badly and didn’t want to talk about it. She wasn’t here to force him to do it. She shifted her weight in her chair and smiled with all the grace of a queen, choosing to pretend Randal wasn’t acting to wildly out of character for him. Instead she chose to focus on the question itself, answering in good humour.:: Tasi: It’s not what I expected, but then is that really a surprise? Things so often seem to go that way where Starfleet is concerned. My first mission has just concluded.. It… could have gone better. ::He listened as if his life depended on it, using her words and her voice as a life preserver. He knew that, from this point on, he could only speak truths, else he give away even more of his distress to the one person he both cared about and was able to protect in this moment.:: Shayne: ::Sensitively.:: What happened? ::She didn’t want to speak ill of the crew, or of the first officer. It wouldn’t be proper to talk of the mission and the diplomatic incidents caused by Commander Sevo, or Doctor Sim. They were good people and it wouldn’t do to spread gossip that might negatively affect their reputation. How many lives had the joined Trill seen? Not enough, clearly. Tasi had thought someone who had lived many lifetimes would be much more diplomatic. Instead, the red-headed woman suffered a short temper. Doctor Sim on the other hand, Tasi wasn’t sure if he was just young and inexperienced or if there was some underlying issue she should be aware of. She would talk to him about what happened in due course, but for now, her friend had her attention and he was awaiting a reply.:: Tasi: I think the important thing is that we did achieve our goal… We just did it in a more round-about fashion than anticipated. We have some downtime now on Trill. ::”Roundabout”. Despite their goals and training, that’s how most of their missions seemed to progress.:: Shayne: I’m just glad you’re alright. Tasi: Thanks, my friend. You know there’s something I’ve always wondered… ::There was a strange shift in the air around him, almost like the calm before the storm. Unconsciously he recognized it, and it frightened him for some reason.:: Shayne: Uh oh. ::It was his customary response to, well, anything really.:: Tasi: Are you made of copper and tellurium? ::He’d been expecting something… unexpected, but this trounced all that. It was such a seeming non-sequitur that his brain actually stopped, locked up, and refused to process it.:: Shayne: ...what? Tasi: Because you're CuTe. ::It was strange. He hadn’t thought it possible for his face to literally feel as if it was sliding off his skull. And yet, Tasi, as she had done many times before, was proving him wrong. Part of him was desperately confused. Never had Tasi given him any reason to think that they were anything more than close friends. That part of him was spiraling out of control, and Shayne had little hope of ever seeing it again. Bye bye, fragment of sanity. The other dominant emotion at the moment was a piercing… pain? Yes, pain. That pun was… astonishing. He felt his brain give up, and fizzle out his ears in a vaguely diarrhetic release of synapses. Compared to the cute romantic overtones Tasi, he just felt… shattered. :: ::Tasi watched his reaction coyly, and Shayne desperately hoped that his face was simply blank. It was a monumental effort to incite any sort of functionality, but he managed to smile, clear his throat and lean forward.:: Shayne: How long? ::”How long have you felt this way” seemed brusque, cruel almost. He’d have to break the news to her, and then try to smooth over the feathers. God, why did people find him handsome, or desirable? Then he wouldn’t be in this well-intentioned mess.:: Tasi: Does it matter? ::Her heart sank. While she hadn’t expected much, her heart still sank to see the expression written plain across his face, and to hear his strained voice. It was as she had always thought. What was she thinking? She held her breath in anticipation of the inevitable rejection.:: Shayne: Tasi… um… I… I really don’t know how to break this to you, so I’m just gonna say it. I have a girlfriend. We’re… we’re nearly engaged. Tasi: oO Nearly? Oo ::He felt his heart fracture a bit at those words, knowing how crippling they’d be to him if their situations were reversed.:: Shayne: oO And “have”? No, that’s not entirely true. Right now, all you have is hopes and memories. But you can’t give up now. She’s out there! Oo ::What could she say? She’d made him feel more awkward. This was supposed to bring a smile to his face how? It all seemed so foolish in hindsight. The corners of her mouth turned down, betraying her true feelings before she forced the most natural smile she could muster. She had learned something more about her enigmatic friend at least. Could things have been different had she been more courageous?:: Tasi: I’m really happy for you Randal. How did you meet? ::Her tone was as genuine as her interest. Regret might fill her thoughts later, but right now she still wanted to be the best friend possible. Maybe talking about his girlfriend would cheer Randal up.:: ::Despite the circumstances, he smiled grimly, recounting their first meeting.:: Shayne: A birth in Sickbay brought us together. An overdose brought us… close. ::He remembered the shifting, waving patterns in his eyes as the pain killer had done its work altogether too well. It had lowered his inhibitions, to the point where the usually silent helmsman had confessed his feelings about Pond’s beauty. One thing lead to another, and they were a couple. It was the fondest memory he’d ever had on a biobed.:: Shayne: And now, she’s gone. ::He hadn’t meant to say that, and he certainly hadn’t meant to say it so casually. But the damage was done. Again.:: Shayne: She was transferred, or lost, and I don’t know where. I don’t know why. And I don’t know when. No answer. But I can’t contact her. It’s driving me insane. ::No wonder he was behaving abnormally. The amount of stress and worry he was under. Tasi’s expression was completely serious and her heart went out to him.:: Tasi: I’m so sorry Randal. That’s truly awful. I can only imagine how difficult that must be for you. ::Someone would know what had happened to her and she was sure Randal would have chased down every avenue to find out what was happening.:: Tasi: No one was able to help you locate her? Shayne: No one wants to. I can’t get a clear answer out of anyone. ::He seethed, and wondered how long this could continue.:: Tasi: I hope you’re able to hear from her soon. Shayne: ::Smiling weakly.:: Thanks. ::The silence was deafening, and Shayne nearly tapped his fingers.:: Shayne: Well! It was… um… great to, you know, talk to you. Tasi: Sure. Goodbye Shayne. Take care. Tasi: oO That was a complete shuttle crash. Oo Shayne: Take care. ::And with that, he slammed his finger onto the off button with such vigor he felt his joint crack. He placed his head down on his desk, and didn’t lift it for a good six hours.:: ::The screen went dark much more suddenly than expected. She got up and flopped onto her bed, letting out a long sigh. That was embarrassing, especially for someone who was supposed to be good at talking to others. In that moment she felt like a fraud.:: Tasi: oO There’s one person I’ll never hear from again. Oo ::Exhaling loudly again, Tasi grabbed a pillow and put it over her head. She remained that way until the computer reminded her of a camping trip she was committed to attending. Reluctantly, she got up and started to get ready for it.:: ------------------------------------------------------------- Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne Ops Officer/Second Officer USS Blackwell NCC 58999 G239202RS0 AND Lieutenant Tasi, Counselor - USS Gorkon Simmed by: Rear Admiral Renos Executive Council & Captain's Council Member A238805EB0 -------------------------------------------------------------

(( Agricultural Administration Building - Ih’aesn - Sikuna )) :: Nugra was caught between feeling surprised by the fact that their situation had gone downhill to realizing that it always went downhill. Yiggtissi's suit had been compromised and the governor of this city was dead. He had two Starfleet officers to protect in case the colonists became a mob. He was not in the mood to kill anyone at present. :: :: Stepping out into the hallway while everyone followed their assignments, Nugra pulled his PADD out of his pocket to quickly get an idea what was going on with the other teams.:: :: There was a strange tickling in Kaji's mind as she neared the compound, like a familiar presence, and she slowed to pinpoint it. She frequently recognized the sounds of people's mental "voices", but not just a sense of presence. Stretching her telepathic senses, she searched for the source, but it seemed far away to the north. A mystery for later, then. :: :: Talia pushed her way through the Admin building's doors, grateful for the shelter. There were only a few military members around, most non-essential personnel having been sent home. A guard scanned her badge, as she was a civilian currently and not in any uniform. She traced her way through the corridors to the governor's office. Atlai had told her to meet the Starfleet team there. But when she turned the corner and looked down the hall, Talia stopped cold. :: :: It felt like her mind had frozen, incapable of actually processing thoughts. The figure at the end of the hall loomed over his surroundings just as he loomed over both her dreams and nightmares. The damn Gorn would just not leave her in peace! Was he to haunt her waking hours as well? Countless nights spent curled up in bed, too afraid to go back to sleep and relive his death yet again wasn't enough? Or the other nights where she wished she COULD get back to sleep to continue a different sort of dream, where they were just together? :: :: It took the mundane action of him checking his PADD to snap Talia out of her stupor. This wasn't a hallucination, it was Nugra. In the flesh. That stupid, beautiful, scaly flesh. :: :: Upon seeing a report that negotiations were not faring well, Nugra let out a grunt of irritation. Hopefully, Sevo was not going to punch a Romulan...again.:: :: The irritated grunt got through the last of Talia's disbelief. :: Kaji: :: striding towards him:: Oh gods, oh gods. Nugra! :: She threw herself at him, probably before he even knew it was her, but she didn't care. Decorum be damned, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. :: :: It was the scent at first that he detected but his brain refused to register it as being true. The PADD had his attention but it was the squeal of her voice and the arms that tried to wrap around his bulk that broke him out of the thought and into shock. He [...]ed his head to see what had gotten a hold of him and was met with a head of curly hair, black eyes, and the happiest grin he had ever seen. :: Nugra: oO Talia! Oo :: A million emotions soared through him in the half a second his mind hesitated. She was on Obsidia Colony and he had been long gone, hidden in the depths of the Gamma Quadrant on the USS Athena. How was it possible that they had met on a Republic world. His mind struggled to form words to speak to the woman he thought he had lost forever. :: :: She couldn't let go, even though her feet were dangling six inches off the floor. She just buried her head in his neck and hoped he couldn’t feel the tears. :: Kaji: How...How are you even alive? :: There were no words. How could he say anything to her right now when his heart felt like it was going to explode. He wrapped his giant hands around her waist, hefted her to eye level and gave her a crushing hug of joy. Only one word got out of this lizard. :: Nugra: ::choked up:: Talia. Kaji: You freaking lizard, you couldn’t even send me a note, like “hey I’m not dead anymore, so you don’t need to keep grieving”-- not that I was grieving your ugly mug, because you’re too stupid to…killing yourself like that to “save everyone” or whatever. :: Talia felt that her points were being undermined by the sobs breaking through and garbling her words. :: Nugra: Starfleet Intelligence…. Kaji: :: freeing one hand to slap the back of his head:: That is an astoundingly terrible excuse. Nugra: I should have sent you a note once I was released but...I didn’t know what to say. Kaji: Anything. Anything would have been good. Nugra: ::sheepishly:: Hi, Talia. I am alive. Kaji: :: mumbling as she buried her face in his neck again.:: [...]. I missed you. Nugra: I missed you too. :: Another voice broke into the conversation that snapped Nugra back. :: N’Lee: ::grinning:: As sweet as this is, Captain, I need my doctor. Please put her down. :: Chagrined, Nugra put Kaji back on her feet and gave his uniform a dutiful but too long tug before straightening back to business. :: Nugra: Of course, Sub-Commander. :: To Talia:: Doctor Kaji. We seem to have an outbreak and one of my crew members may have become infected. Shall we? Kaji: :: with a lightness she hadn’t felt in over a year, she laughed,:: Yes, Sir. :: As Nugra walked past N’Lee, he heard the Romulan whisper to him. :: N’Lee: ::grinning:: Don’t worry, Nuggs. I won’t tell the Admiral you were hugging doctors in a middle of a crisis. JP By… -- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Captain Nugra Taskforce Security Liaison Publicity Facilitator The Archivist '17 Simming Prize Laureate USS Gorkon, NCC-82293 V238008N10 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ & --------------------- Dr Talia Kaji Civilian Medical Doctor Romulan Vessel, Mhr'Vaat E239008TK0 ---------------------