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Jarred Thoran

Captains Council observer
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Jarred Thoran last won the day on July 3

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About Jarred Thoran

  • Rank
    StarBase 118 Groupie
  • Birthday August 3

Fleet information

  • Current Vessel
    USS Atlantis
  • Current Post
    Commanding Officer

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  • Location
    Germany
  • Gender
    Male
  • Interests
    Cycling, reading, console & PC gaming, Tae Kwon Do, dancing, history, spending time with my daughter

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  1. A wonderful reunion - truly a joy to read from @Sal Taybrim & @Theo Whittaker ((Ready Room - Deck One - USS Columbia)) ((Time Index: Two days after Columbia leaves the Spiral Nebula)) ::From the porthole in his ready room, Theo watched the Columbia slipping into orbit of Delta Vega I, slowly gently rolling into place until the orb of the red-brown planet appeared as a slim crescent across the bottom of the narrow window. He sipped his chamomile tea as he felt the tension of the past day evaporating from his body. Kaironn was in custody, the ancient Tkon relics were back in the hands of those who would not abuse them (although the question of where they would be studied- aboard Columbia or on Dehner Base) remained ‘up in the air’) and he had reached an understanding with Professor Sellards- albeit a tenuous one. Yet he had not been able to relax until that moment.:: ::He could, in short, rest easy again.:: Pran: =/\= Bridge to Captain Whittaker. We have entered orbit of Delta Vega I.=/\= ::came the voice of the Security Officer. =/\=And I also have Fleet Captain Taybrim on subspace.=/\= ::That brought a warm smile to Theo’s face and he turned from the porthole and set the tea cup down on his desk. Word had reached him courtesy of a subspace data burst from Starfleet Command that his former Captain, mentor and close friend had recieved a well deserved (and much overdue, in Theo’s eyes) promotion to Fleet Captain. Even after a year, Theo missed the Betazoid commanding officer of StarBase 118. Given Columbia’s distant assignment, the chances for the two of them to talk were limited. But this was one conversation that he would have moved heaven and earth to have.:: Whittaker: =/\= Thank you, Lieutenant. =/\= ::he replied, sinking in to the comfortable, high backed chair behind the desk. =/\= Transfer the Fleet Captain through to my ready room.=/\= Pran: =/\= Aye sir. =/\= :: she closed the channel at the same time that his desktop monitor activated, the symbol of Starfleet’s Communications Research Division displayed up on it.:: ::The symbol was very quickly replaced by the smiling visage, ginger hair and twinkling black eyes of a man that Theo respected as one of the fleet’s greatest captains and loved like a brother. His smile, already wide, transformed into a proud grin as his eyes fell on the thin gold bar below the four rank pips attached to the red collar of his uniform.:: Whittaker: Hello Sal! ::he said, his joy and pride drenching his every word.:: Congratulations! Taybrim: =/\= Hello Theo! =/\= ::Sal has that same open, warm smile that Theo remembered:: Whittaker: ::with a snicker, he could not help but add:: Does this mean Mirra can punch you in the face now? ::Two years before Mirra- never one to hold back with her opinion- had struck Commodore Allan Kinney, the corrupt Sector Commander who had been spreading disinformation against the crew of StarBase 118. He had been in the pocket of the resurgent Orion Syndicate who were attempting to gain a foothold in the Trinity Sector and once uncovered, Mirra had taken matters into her own hand. It had become something of a local legend in that part of space- not to mention a running joke between Taybrim, Theo and his Diplomatic Officer.:: Taybrim: ::Sal clicked his tongue at Whittaker:: =/\= I’m not a Commodore… yet =/\= ::Dark eyes sparkled, he was amused by that.:: =/\= But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t visit! =/\= Whittaker: If only I could, old friend. Columbia is exploring the very edge of the galaxy and we don’t have a transport ship due to visit Dehner Base for two weeks I’m afraid! We are even too far out to use real-time holo-communication technology. ::he said ruefully, remembering how Captain Brell of the Atlantis had utilised it to great effect for his own promotion party.:: So I’m afraid, good old fashioned subspace communications will have to suffice for now. ::Sal gave a soft smile. He understood the limitations - which was regrettable and yet realistic. Then again he had largely eschewed a party as well. He had attended many ostentatious parties and despite the fact that he was a social butterfly, Sal Taybrim was also not an attention-seeking personality. A small formal affair was enough.:: Taybrim: =/\= Subspace communication works fine. Though I still think you should come back and pay a visit. Not for an occasion, just for old times sake. =/\= ::He smiled gently, light sparkling in his dark eyes.:: Whittaker: I promise that the next time I take shore leave- forced or voluntarily- I will pay you visit on my way to wherever I end up. ::he chuckled.:: How is the station doing these days? Scuttlebutt around the fleet is that you got an invitation to go targ hunting? ::he had a hard time picturing Sal Taybrim hunting the small Klingon beasties.:: Was Admiral Hauke punishing you? ::he added with a smirk.:: Taybrim: =/\= Oh, no. We were targ hunting by invitation. =/\= ::he smiled mysteriously:: =/\= You know all that fancy diplomatic stuff including gagh and bloodwine and targs. It was invigorating!=/\= Whittaker: I’ve seen images of targ hunts in books before and… the smell alone…. ::he said with a mock shiver.:: Maybe I transferred elsewhere at the right time. ::his eyes twinkled with mirth.:: Taybrim: =/\= Well, yes it did take a few sonic showers to get the smell of wet targ out. But with enough bloodwine you start thinking that eau de targ is a good combination!=/\= ::he grinned merrily.:: Whittaker: You know that bloodwine and I do not get along! ::this time the shiver was authentic. StarBase 118 had a Klingon drinking establishment known as The Bat’leth and there had been one rather heavy night there…… he didn’t like to think about it.:: Taybrim: =/\= You know scuttlebutt around the fleet says you are dealing with more pirates…=/\= ::Not just pirates. More pirates.:: ::Theo sat back in his chair and nodded. It had only been a few days since the situation with Kaironn had come to its conclusion and while life aboard Columbia had all but returned to normal, the events of New Years Day were still fresh in everyone’s minds.:: Whittaker: Sometimes, Sal, I fear that my lot in life is to spend my days rounding up marauding criminals. ::beat.:: The scuttlebutt is correct, although there were nowhere near the level of Chennel, thank goodness. They stole some archeological samples from Dehner Base and ambushed us. Took out a fair few of our systems before we could respond. ::That got the ginger Betazoid’s brows perked. Archaeological samples? Who stole Archaeological samples? That was something he thought of as quite the mystery to be solved.:: Taybrim: =/\= What happened after you engaged? =/\= Whittaker: We managed to retrieve the samples after we chased them to a nearby Nebula and we’ve now got their Captain in our brig. ::it felt good to be able to say that.:: All is well that ends well, no? Taybrim: =/\= Hopefully! =/\= ::he said optimistically:: =/\= My curious question would be - why did they want archaeological samples? Whittaker: They were intending to sell them on the local black market, I imagine. ::He worded himself carefully, not entirely sure whether he should divulge the nature of Professor Jev’s relics. He knew that Sal would not go off shouting his mouth about the discovery of several artefacts from one of the galaxy’s most advanced races- but had still yet to hear from Starfleet Command about how they wanted to proceed with them. If they wanted to suppress their true nature (Theo could not blame them given how fearsome Tkon technology had been)- then he did not want to get on their bad side by detailing everything to Sal.:: Taybrim: =/\= Curious, indeed. =/\= ::he nodded, considering the information:: =/\= Maybe I’m paranoid because of that big imposing intel tower in my attic. =/\= ::he took the opportunity to laugh a little at himself. He wasn’t by nature a paranoid person, but he never did trust criminals - especially after Chennel.:: ::He smiled at that, thinking about how Aitas- 118’s current Chief of Intelligence had managed to integrate the Intelligence Tower into the daily life of the station, rather than remaining hidden in shadows. Of course, operational security was a necessity and those not cleared to enter the tower did not gain access but the Tower worked much closer with Ops than ever before.:: Whittaker: Aitas is not that bad. ::he chuckled.:: How is the station? Any big developments? Is Mrs. Anders still prowling about? ::he suppressed a shiver at the memory of the terrifying woman who had almost become his mother-in-law. Taybrim: =/\= Oh, not too much has changed =/\= ::he chuckled:: =/\= Taelon returned to us… after a sticky trip through time. El-Aurians… =/\= ::he shook his head:: ::Theo straightened in his chair at that little morsel of information. He and Taelon had been almost involved prior to his assignment to the Blackwell, although it had ended prematurely- not to mention poorly, as Theo had no idea how to broach the subject.:: Whittaker: Oh... Taybrim: ::Carefully, speaking gently:: =/\= He has a daughter now… =/\= Whittaker: ::he blinked several times before responding.:: Oh… ::he repeated.:: I did not see that coming. ::he shook his head.:: H-How is he….? ::he almost did not want to know.:: Taybrim: =/\=He is OK. Surprisingly good for living on a Klingon ship for a decade.=/\= ::Sal’s tone said there was more to that story, but it was more in the sense that it was likely better said face to face with strong drinks. Which was a luxury that wasn’t always available to Starfleet officers.:: ::A Klingon ship for over a decade. Theo knew there was more to the story that Sal was willing to let on, which made him wonder whether Taelon had been treated well by the Empire… he hoped that he had, but realised that it would not be as cut and dried as that.:: Whittaker: I see.. ::he said slowly.:: Send him my best when you get a moment, would you? I know that I did not treat him well after my departure from the station-, but I want nothing but the best for him and his daughter. ::he meant that- every word.:: ::Sal smiled gently at that:: Taybrim: =/\=I know, and I will tell him=/\= ::he paused and allowed the moment to linger before spekaing:: =/\= How have you been, Theo? How is the Columbia? =/\= Whittaker: There is plenty new with Columbia besides pirates.. ::he said, glad to be moving on from the topic of Taelon.:: Uprated sensors, new laboratories… she’s practically a whole new ship. She’s a testbed for the Nebula-class becoming long range exploration and reconnaissance vessels. ::beat:: No wonder they put me in the big chair, being an engineer. ::he chuckled.:: Taybrim: =/\=I’m so very glad that the Columbia is a leading ship in the fleet again=/\= ::he smiled fondly. They both had good memories of the Columbia, though the ship had always been Theo’s baby.:: Whittaker: As am I, Sal. As am I. I still have to pinch myself whenever I think that Starfleet gave her to me- but I’m sure that will pass. ::he smiled.:: Taybrim: =/\= But, more to the point, how are you, Theo? Personally how are things? How is Mirra treating you?=/\= Whittaker: I don’t think she likes the fact that she’s no longer cleared to tamper with my replicator now she is serving as a diplomat. ::he chortled at that.:: I’m doing well on the whole. I feel more comfortable in the centre seat than I ever have before- even if I could do without Professor Sellards from Dehner Base breathing fire every time we clash. ::that made his smile falter.:: But I am hopeful that we’ve reached some sort of understanding. Taybrim: =/\= Oh, really? =/\= ::he prodded gently for more information.:: ::He sat back in his chair and looked away from the screen for several seconds before he looked back at the ginger haired man on his desktop monitor.:: Whittaker: She doesn’t trust us and she kept some rather crucial information about the archeological samples hidden until one of her colleagues revealed their true nature. ::he hesitated for a moment, wondering whether he should divulge the situation with Sellards- deciding he needed to vent to a neutral party, he pressed on.:: Her uncle was involved in the Pegasus disaster and lost his life. It essentially tore her family apart and she has spent a great deal of time resenting Starfleet. We’ve clashed a number of times over operational concerns, although I’m hopeful that our encounter with the pirates has made her see that Starfleet isn’t just a group of moustache-twirling villains who operate in the shadows. Taybrim: =/\= Starfleet is a very varied organization and you have the chance to show her the very best side of it =/\= ::he said with a smile of encouragement.:: Whittaker: If she will let us. ::despite their acrimonious beginning, Theo remained hopeful that he could prove to her that Starfleet was not the organisation she thought she was. Taybrim: =/\= Of course it will take time. But if she values honestly, and steadfast support she’ll find no better crew than you and yours.=/\= Whittaker: That’s most kind of you to say so, Sal. ::he was about to reply when a message flashed up in the corner of his screen. With a frown and a sigh he realised that he was needed elsewhere and that he would have to end the call with his dear friend.:: Looks like I have a staff meeting I need to oversee. I hate to cut this short, but you know what it’s like at the top. ::he smiled at the Betazoid.:: Next time I’m back in Federation space- I’ll be dropping by to see how the old girl is doing. Take care of yourself, Sal. ::Theo leaned forward and terminated the call. For a second, he thought fondly of the man who had helped to mould him into the Captain he was. How far he had come since Sal Taybrim had lured him to the darkened engine room of the Columbia and asked him to jump off the proverbial cliff! They had been through much together and out of it had blossomed a wonderful, much cherished friendship. Theo was proud for his dear friend. Fleet Captain… nobody deserved it more.:: ::And with that moment passed, Theo got to his feet and headed to his staff meeting, and wondered what misadventures the twinkling black eyes of Sal Taybrim would find themselves in next.:: -- Captain Theo M. Whittaker Commanding Officer USS Columbia NCC 85279 ID: C239203TW0 & Fleet Captain Sal Taybrim Commanding Officer StarBase 118 Operations
  2. A huge congratulations to you both, a truly fantastic achievement
  3. Second this. I couldn't help but smile as I read it. I particularly enjoyed the last part and the introspection. It has also given me ideas.... *insert evil chuckle and hand rubbing*
  4. Bielefeld... interesting. You know i've never met anybody from Bielefeld, and i've never met anybody who has met anybody from Bielefeld. I hear the university there houses a CIA spaceship....
  5. Damn! Right in the feels @Kali Nicholotti & @Randal Shayne ((Sickbay, USS Columbia)) (Time Index: Shortly After Returning from the Planet’s Surface) ::He was haggard, and miserable, and ill, and spaced out to degree he’d not experienced since the night he’d graduated the Academy, but there were duties to attend to. It was this that allowed him to proceed from hour to hour since his most timely return to the ship. A mission as hectic and fraught as the one he’d just undertaken (and failed, by most honest recountings) would have taken the spark out of anyone, and the radiation still had yet to leave his system entirely. But the subspace information packet he’d found in his quarters upon his return made him wonder if hallucinations were joining his growing list of symptoms.:: ::Dear god, he was being transferred.:: ::His focus on the orders was kept to an absolute, so that he might not have the mental freedom to consider their implications for him down the line. He liked it here. A good ship, with a good crew, on a good mission. He trusted these people, worked with them for years in some cases. His best friends were here- and it was that, more than anything, that left him absolutely gutted. But orders were not negotiable, and though it was not a habit conducive to maintaining relationships, Shayne had a habit of going where the fleet needed him, whether he was asked or not.:: ::So, with his gear prepped, he steeled himself for the most crippling part of this effort- saying goodbye.:: ::Quietly, he approached MacKenna’s bed. He’d heard of her actions on the planet below- nothing could quite describe just how painful the thought of not being there to defend her was. With a kind smile that belayed his unhappy news, at least for the moment, he spoke, in a voice just loud enough for them both to hear.:: Shayne: It is so good to see you. How are you feeling? ::Like her normal self, Ash hadn't been paying attention to anything or anyone approaching. When she heard him, she finally looked up with a smile the likes of which hadn't graced her face since, well, she didn't know how long.:: MacKenna: A little lopsided. ::It was a joke, though she was markedly horrible at humor. She rarely shared it with anyone around her, but for whatever reason, he was different. She looked up at him, reaching with her remaining hand, wanting to feel that he was actually there. So much was running through her mind, it was hard to just let it all settle, but when she caught a glimpse of his eyes it instantly faded into the background. There was something there.:: ::But what was it...?:: ::He’d heard of her injury, but had no idea her hand was mechanical before asking about her. It was common knowledge, so he wasn’t violating any level of privacy, but it still felt intrusive. Still, upon hearing that her hand had nearly been torn off, he’d been happy to hear it was a mechanical apparatus, and not a sudden amputation.:: Shayne: Will you be alright? ::It wasn’t a question he originally wanted to ask- for if she wasn’t alright, he’d be compelled by affection and care and decency to do everything he could to alleviate her suffering. But orders wouldn’t permit him to stay long.:: MacKenna: I will be okay. They are already working on a replacement for me. ::She still couldn't really handle looking at what used to be her hand, so she didn't. Instead, she tried to delve deeper into his eyes to figure out what was really going on. And maybe it was nothing, she hoped it was nothing, given her inability to read people. But something in the back of her mind told her it wasn't. No, he had the same look in his eyes then that Radi had given her...:: ::It wasn’t fair to keep the truth from her. If he didn’t tell her now, he’d never get another chance. And from the way she was searching through him, rifling through the files of his mind with her eyes, she knew something was amiss already.:: Shayne: Ash. I’ve… been transferred.:: ::He didn’t think he’d ever referred to her by her first name, and it felt right. But it also filled him with heaviness- when would he get the opportunity to do so again?:: ::There is was. Ash was stunned, but not at the same time. Something deep inside knew that was what was coming, but the majority of her mental capacities were trying desperately to keep it from being thought of. Now that the words spilled out into the distance between them, there was no hiding from it. The worst part of it was that this was the life she had chosen.:: ::Internally, her mind began its own meltdown. She did not give her feelings easily, and she did not grow close to many people. Somehow, this man had found a way in, and quickly. It had taken her by surprise in so many ways, on so many levels, but the current had been so strong, so determined that this was the correct path to take that she’d not been able to fight it for long.:: ::A future she longed for, but would never have, flashed between thoughts of how inadequate she had to be. The universe had to see her as unworthy. Everyone left, and the changes that followed were impossible to deal with. It made her more than uncomfortable, it made her want to scream, cry, throw things, or just hide. She didn’t know how to cope. She didn’t want to cope. Her mind saw only impossibility and loss.:: ::Internally the idea of the looming loneliness festered, the meltdown gathered momentum, her insides screamed with her inability to do anything about this. Behind her pools of emerald green, tears welled up and threatened to unleash a flood. Yet, outwardly, she barely managed to hold it all together.:: ::Barely.:: MacKenna: When? ::She barely managed to get the word out and even then it sounded more like a squeak, like a forced question just to divert his attention away from the fact that she was falling apart.:: ::Shayne quite nearly shattered at that single utterance. It was so filled with hurt, with disappointment and longing and pain that he simply couldn’t process it. His empathetic nature felt like it was dissolving him whole, and there was nothing he could do. His chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself. It took about ten seconds for him to force his lips and voice to provide an answer.:: Shayne: I just found out a few hours ago. I leave today. Soon. ::A million thoughts raced through her head and she fought them all. What was the right thing to say?:: oO Don’t leave. Don’t go. Stay here, stay with me. What about the things you’ve said? The look in your eyes? The feel of your touch? What if I loved you? What if I wanted you? What will I do without you? Oo ::It wasn’t fair. He, more than anyone else, had made this feel like home. She’d not been aboard long, but his words, his actions, they had all made her feel as if she belonged right where she was.:: ::Now that would be gone.:: MacKenna: But…::The fight against her tears turned in favor of the tears. A single one escaped and rolled down her pale face.:: What about…? ::The sight of the single tear unraveled him. If his body followed the example of his mind and his heart, he would have collapsed into a puddle of sorrow and misery. He’d often seen people saying goodbye in films, in holodeck programs, and had wondered why each had been so consistently overacted. Now he knew- they weren’t overacting at all. This is how it felt to leave a soul mate, a partner, a friend. A dream. The will to get over the pain quickly faded, and he let it wash over him, years of repression leaking forth as his own tear began a downward trend.:: ::She couldn’t get the words out. Yet, at the same time, she needed to know. Had they been headed on the path she had been imagining in her mind? What would happen now? She didn’t know about them, but she wasn’t able to just turn off the feelings and the needs and the wants.:: Shayne: I have to. ::He’d wanted to say so much more, but his throat was tightening like he was suffering an allergic reaction. If he had any sort of choice, he wouldn’t be taking off now. He was happy here! Columbia was a home- his home! He knew the crew, knew the ship, saw a future to be sought after within these walls. Now all he saw was dust and broken promises, both of his making, spread eternally before him.:: ::Reaching out, with her remaining hand, she pulled herself up and to the edge of the bed. As soon as she’d gotten his hand in hers she gripped it harder than she probably should have.:: MacKenna: I don’t want to give this up. ::Whatever this was. Oh how hard it was to keep from wrapping herself up in his arms in some grand attempt to physically keep him there. It would be impossible, given her size versus his, but she certainly wanted to try. Her mind was screaming all of the reasons he should stay, but she didn’t dare want to say any of them for fear that he would either take them as her being too much, or in speaking of them they would become real.:: ::And the only other time she’d fallen for anyone, he’d been transferred and killed in combat.:: ::A shiver ran down her spine. It was like history repeating itself, only this time she had been given a small opportunity to say what she felt.:: ::But could she…?:: ::He gave a slight gasp, and he wanted to believe it was the strength of her grasp, but he knew it was the sensation of finally being wanted, and knowing that, in a few hours, he’d likely lose that sensation permanently.:: Shayne: I don’t want to either. ::Truer words had never been spoken. He had touched the face of peace, of hope, of sanity and of kindness, and it was hers, locked behind a curtain of flame red hair, held back by bright, shy eyes. He genuinely didn’t know if he had the strength to go. At this point, it almost seemed like the battle was being lost.:: MacKenna: I think… ::squeezing his hand more tightly, her voice shook enough to show how difficult all of this was for her. Still, she had to get it out.:: I think I’ve fallen for you. You can’t leave. ::As the statement was made her voice trailed off into almost a whisper. Had he heard her? And how would he take it? And where would they go from here…?:: ::Shayne died.:: ::It was as simple as that. One moment, he was a man, a Starfleet officer, a proud cog in the finest machine ever devised, and a lonely, disheartened figure, kept warm by the glow of his love for the Federation. The next moment, that man was replaced. The most important thing in his life was no longer to be found behind the helm of a starship. It was here, on this biobed, clutching his arm like a drowning angel. How could he leave this? For the first time in his entire life, he just didn’t give a damn about orders.:: ::Almost as if he was in a trance, with his free hand, he slowly reached up past his torso, up to his chest. His clammy palm gently caressed the sigil that had defined him for his entire life.:: ::He clenched it.:: ::And with one final, mighty effort, removed it from his chest.:: ::He was free. He was free now, to love this woman the way she deserved, the way they deserved. He’d not wanted to say anything, for fear of jumping the gun. But they were too close not to care for each other, to similarly handicapped to not cling to each other. Orders be damned! The scrawl of some ancient, withered admiral was all that was preventing Shayne from staying, and sharing with MacKenna the care and affection he showed to the people who mattered. The badge was off. For this moment, he was not an officer. Now he could stay with her, happily and joyfully, perhaps as a civilian, watching her increase in rank and supporting her on her journey to greatness, all the while adoring her.:: ::And then the vacuum swallowed him.:: ::Even as he watched MacKenna’s gorgeous, vulnerable, deep green eyes, he felt… wrong. Almost as if he was taking advantage of her. He knew what it was, but didn’t want to admit it. The combadge, still clutched firmly in his hand. It gave him purpose, direction, drive. Without it, he was a shell- hardly the man MacKenna had come to know.:: ::If he stayed now, he’d be a broken man- emptied and spiritless, even with such beauty by his side. Ash deserved better. She deserved someone with life!:: ::Bracing himself, and digging deep for whatever strength he had remaining, Shayne grimaced, and shoved the combadge back on, almost like he was driving a stake through his own soul. Another tear rolled down his contorted features.:: Shayne: I have to. ::He righted himself, and overshadowed her, and placed an adoring, affectionate kiss on her forehead.:: Shayne: Because I love you too. ::He gave a sharp exhale, and prayed that no one was watching them- he’d never been so vulnerable.:: Shayne: This is not the end. I promise you that. ::He could almost feel the universe itself capitulate to his decree, and he wouldn’t have accepted anything less. Now that’d he’d found joy again, nothing short of Judgement Day would keep him from the other part of his spirit.:: ::The sheer ferocity of the emotions struck her deeper than anything ever had before. She could feel it shoot through her like lightning. Words, feelings, nothing was left unsaid. Nothing was left unknown. And when the smoke had cleared it became apparent that even now, even as protocol stole him away, maybe she wasn’t alone in the wide and all encompassing darkness that was.:: ::Knowing that these moments would be all that she would have for the time until they met again, she stood in his shadow and drank it all in, committing each and every detail to memory. The feeling of strength that came from a connection deeper than words could possibly define was not something she would soon forget, or let go of.:: ::No, this would not be the end.:: MacKenna: I refuse to say goodbye. ::Her voice trembled slightly. She would not say it. No. The universe had brought them together once. The distance would only be temporary. It had to be.:: Shayne: We will see one another again. BE with one another again. If I have to swim the Empty myself, then so be it. ::Taking in the warmth of his proximity, the overly shy and normally silent red-head looked up and for a moment lost herself in his gaze. Putting every little bit of resolve behind her next words, Ash knew he would believe her. He’d have to, as she’d never been so sure of anything else in her life.:: MacKenna: I’ll be waiting for you. ::Then, she pulled him closer and kissed him, letting her actions tell him all that her words could not.:: TBC! Lieutenant Commander Ash MacKenna Chief Science Officer USS Columbia And Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne Chief Engineering Officer USS Eagle
  6. Hello and welcome @Esbrun Vardai Once you reach the rank of Lieutenant you're able to submit a request to play a second character on another ship. IC, like all Starfleet officers, that character would have gone through the academy; however you as the player won't, you just join the ship in a similar manner to how you joined the first.
  7. Hello and welcome @Reema Poq, glad to have you with us and i'm excited to see what you come up with
  8. ((OOC: This contains reference to Tatash's damaged psyche, if that is a sensitive subject please beware)) ((Laurel Clark - Atmosphere of the moon)) Duyzer: Either I had inaccurate results on the Columbia, or this magnetic interference has grown. We may be dealing with a magnitude even those pattern enhancers cannot supersede. G’Renn: Let’s hope that they do remain in working order. Tatash: Not to mention the rest of the shuttle, that's one hell of a storm. ::The looming atmosphere in front of him was certainly looking unpleasant. There was flashes of greenery under it, flashes of water, but above it all was the steady churn of a terrible looking storm syste:: Jolara: ? ::To Tatash's surprise, the storm was more bark then it was bite. The swirling masses of grey cloud caused little problems for the agile little vehicle pushing between them. He was no engineer, but there was no whine of struggle, only the sound of rain hitting the side of the Lauren Clark with a dull rumble:: G’Renn: When we arrive I want everyone to stay vigilant and keep an eye on the surroundings. Unfortunately we don’t know anything about what we’re flying into. ::Tatash nodded in response and glanced around everyone's belt, before pointing towards one of the small thumb-locked lockers underneath the couch opposite him:: Tatash: Make sure you're all armed. Something about this just doesn't sit right in my gut. ::He'd learned from early in his career, before his Starfleet one, that when something didn't feel right in that multi chambered meat-processor of his... it was usually for a good reason:: Jolara: ? Duyzer: Will do. G’Renn: Good, if we- ::A flashing light on the co-pilot’s console caught her attention:: The comms just went out. As soon as we land I want to set up the signal beacon. After we have re-established contact we can begin our search. Tatash: I'll keep you covered. ::He nodded towards the beacon. He didn't want to risk breaking what looked like quite a delicate (not to mention amazingly important) piece of equipment:: Jolara: ? ::For a second things were going smoothly, the small group performing as a cohesive unit until the almost predictable fate of a well planned team came to bear. There was a bang. A horrible sounding crash that felt like a giant hand had rapped a knuckle against the side of the craft, almost as if checking if anyone came to the door to answer it. The jolt, the suddenness of it caused his heart to almost explode out of his chest. It felt familiar, like a sickening impact he'd already felt once before. He shouldn't have suggested a shuttle, this was a damned foolish idea.:: Jolara: ? G'Renn: Report! Duyzer: It's because of the magnetic interference, we can't handle the difference in magneticity between the ship and the atmosphere. G'Renn: Does anyone have any suggestions? Duyzer: Uhm... ::he struggled to come up with a quick fix, he would rather pause time and think about this for several hours:: Now would be the time to test my mentor's theory... ::Another thud slapped against them, this time causing the Security chief to whack the back of his head against the bulkhead. His breathing was increasing rapidly, his knuckles clenching almost painfully on the straps holding him in, almost cutting the deliberately tough fabric into his palms:: Jolara: ? G'Renn: What about the warp coils in the nacelles? Couldn’t we pass a current through them like an electromagnet? Duyzer: Yes! ::shouting like it was a eureka-moment:: I'll, uhm... G’Renn: Then let’s hurry, ensign! ::She motioned to the panel next to Ensign Duyzer’s station:: The engineering access panel is right there. ::Tatash watched the Ensign moving at speed towards an access panel with widened eyes. Were they going down? Was the shuttle about to fall like a stone, even it's strong hull would never survive such an impact.Something inside him twisted, something hellish bringing a memory to the forefront. His eyes fixed ahead of him int error, unable to stop himself from bearing witness to a catastrophe:: ((Flashback - The Battle of the USS Avalon)) ::Green lances continued to spear out towards the group of fighters as they dragged them away from the Aramis's nesting place, but too many. They were drones, no question about that, their computer minds pulling maneuvers that would be considered far too risky for anything flesh and bone to be sitting in the pilots seats. Twisting and turning they dodged fire like ballet dancers avoiding the torrents of hellfire being thrown at them:: Tatash: We have to lure them towards the Albion! She can give us fire support. ::A few responses came back, garbled, no doubt those little terrors putting out some sort of ECM systems to jam communications but his intent got through, the battered fighter wing closing up and speeding towards the Albion with their pursuers in tow. Another friendly was tore up, the Peregrine tumbling over and splitting apart in a hail of Romulan energy:: Tatash: oO Come on... get the message... Oo ::Diago was thankfully quick on his trigger, the Albion letting out orange bursts of energy towards the attacking ships that did their best to adapt to the sudden new parameter being thrown at them, several exploding into blossoms of yellow before subduing into frozen shards of gas and metal. One by one their number went down, a few elated cheers coming over the comms as the electronic smokescreen surrounding the fighters started to dissipate along with their numbers. Even Tatash couldn't help but feel himself slightly relax, until that split second of relief bore a heavy price. His Valkyrie spun violently as something tore hard against the port side, what had once been a pristine wing now a twisted piece of metal. He'd been rammed, the drones apparently programmed to take every last risk when it came to ensuring victory against their designated enemy:: Computer: Warning, Port engines destroyed. Compensating. ::Slowly the ship came about, steading herself out as she limped towards the Albions perimeter, but the moment had been enough for one of the drones to deliver a firm volley against her damaged hull. Tatash flailed in his seat, thrown against the side of his [...]pit as alarms wailed on each console:: Computer: Catastrophic damage. Eject. Eject. ::His training took over, clawed hands grasping for the lever under his seat that would throw the entire [...]pit out as a makeshift lifeboat, one tug. Nothing, two tugs. Still nothing:: Computer: Ejection failure. ::His heart was pounding, the blue glow of the Albions shuttlebay painfully close as he fired up the emergency thruster, throwing him forwards towards it as he tapped on the comms system hoping to the pale goddess it still worked:: Tatash: =/\= Tatash to Albion. Mayday, Mayday. ::Nothing, whatever response had come through was distorted static blasting through his ear piece. His [...]pit was cracking, a thin spiderweb slowly erupting over what was once an impossibly strong material:: Tatash: =/\= Mayday... Computer: Warning, landing gear failure. All systems failing. ::All he could do now was hope as he continued to push towards the docking bay at speed, his scaled knuckles almost white as he did his best to assert what limited control he had on the ruined vehicle. The Albions damaged hull rushed past him as he saw the massive catching net erupting from the shuttlebay floor, he could even make out technicians running for cover as time seemed to slow down as the adrenaline pushing through him hit his peak. The nose hit the net with tremendous force, the entire fuselage crumpling down as he was thrown forward, what was a moment of reality pushed into a murky darkness:: ((End Flashback)) ::The voices around him had faded into a dull murmur, his body shook without him occupying it as the Shuttle landed itself on the ground with only a slight amount of discomfort to just about everyone else but him, too busy trapped in his own personal prison. He felt his biological fingers grasping, the fabric between them, his thumbs running over them experimenting and feeling their texture in reality. His metal ones on the other arm were alien to him, once more, but they were real. As he had been told, they were a fragment of that memory that will always remain to remind him it was in the past. Not now, although it felt like now. The bulkhead ahead of him was solid and cold. The chair under him was sturdy. It was soft, supportive, attached. Straps. The straps were tight on him. He flexed his toes, boots. Boots around his feet, grounding him. He was here, on the ground, safe. He took a brief moment to pause, almost mentally rebooting himself:: G’Renn: Is anyone seriously injured? Duyzer: Not me. Jolara: ? ::Tatash counted, slowly up to five. Each time regulating his breathing, every coping mechanism that had been pushed into him almost as a muscle memory by the almost endless counselling sessions triggering automatically as he let out the deepest exhale of all:: Tatash: I'm alright. ::he managed to stutter out, his focus shifting intently to his rifle. His weapon gave him control, it gave him power. Control was good, control was needed. With a well drilled motion he cycled the power, checked the energy cell status despite doing it several times before they had even taken off:: G’Renn: Come on, let’s get this signal beacon working. ::The door opened, and air blasted into the cramped interior almost like it was blowing away the last traces of that almost nightmare memory from his mind. He was focused, ready again. Just a shame that cold air hung heavy with natural fragrances, pleasant ones at that even despite the storm raging overhead. He swept his rifle over the ground ahead of them as the beacon was deployed, the focus down his sights keeping him locked back in the present.:: G’Renn: =/\= Doctor G’Renn to the Columbia, do you read? =/\= Thoran: =/\= Doctor, good to hear your voice. We believe we have detected some kind of artificial field, not too far from your original destination. I’d like you to investigate the area around the coordinates two-two-nine mark five. Please confirm. =/\= ::Tatash took a few steps down the loading ramp, his eyes scanning the horizon. There was nothing, no welcoming committee to meet them. Either there was no one interested in them, or they had landed undetected. Or, more ominously, they were being studied remotely:: G’Renn: =/\= Understood. We almost crashed due to a power loss on the way down, so it’s probably safer to walk if it’s close. We’ll keep you informed. =/\= Thoran: =/\= Stay safe Doctor. Columbia out. =/\= G’Renn: Everybody grab your equipment and get ready for a short hike. Those coordinates would be ::She consulted her tricorder, which could at least display a basic idea of their position. Beyond that it was almost useless.:: that way! Duyzer: Yes, it shouldn't be more than a fifteen minute hike. Tatash: Understood. I'll take point. Jolara: ? Duyzer: This planet is beautiful. ::putting up his Denobulan smile:: ::Tatash grunted at that comment as he walked slowly forward, his steps deliberate as he did his best to focus on every slight hint of motion. Even with his excellent eyesight, it would be far too easy for someone to hide virtually undetected within the foilage. But, he couldn't let the paranoia set in from his earlier incident, he had to remain focused on reality now not past.:: G'Renn/Jolara: ? Duyzer: Yes, of course! ::he quickly glanced down:: Not on sensors yet. I am wondering, a man-made field on a planet ::he pointed to all the nature around them:: this untouched? Tatash: Perfect place to hide, Ensign. Breathable air, self sustainable farming ::he nodded towards the rich ground:: and unexplored by anyone. Who would ever bother you out here? G'Renn/Jolara/Duyzer: ? ::A few more steps forward, before something caught Tatash's eye causing him to throw a hand up motioning to stop. Tricorders were one thing, but sometimes the old methods were the best. Crouching down he ran his fingers over a uniform pattern in the surface of the dirt. Grass was crushed, and again in a patterned line roughly three foot parallel:: Tatash: Tracks. Literally tracks. G'Renn/Jolara/Duyzer: ? Tatash: Whatever it was, it was fairly light. Some sort of tracked vehicle, probably lightly armored, civilian. Judging by the way the grass has been pressed, it's heading towards... whatever we are. G'Renn/Jolara/Duyzer: ? Tatash: Fresh, couple of hours maybe. ::He added, gently testing the spongyness of the grass underfoot:: G'Renn/Jolara/Duyzer: ? --- Lt. Commander Tatash Chief of Security USS Columbia C239108T10
  9. ((Diplomatic Conference Room, USS Columbia)) ::If there was one thing they got right when they redesigned and upgraded the Columbia, it was the diplomatic conference room. Spanning a space large enough for a big meeting, or a small gathering, the room was lined with transparent aluminum windows that gave an unimpeded view of the outside. Meant to provide a sense of awe, and perhaps humility, unto those who would gaze beyond the thin barrier, the view quickly enraptured her.:: ::Silence permeated the very bulkheads in the large room in which she now stood, her boot steps long halted and their echoing footfalls long faded into the chasm of isolation she’d created within. A set of blue crystalline eyes gazed into the dark abyss of space, reaching, wanting…barely touching on the tiny motes of dust that were in actuality stars burning bright millions of miles away. Finding their target, an almost unsettling purplish haze, they settled.:: ::And then her mind wandered.:: ::So still she stood that the long wisps of hair no longer fluttered around her. Draping down her back, past her waist, the obsidian locks seemed almost unreal. Had anyone walked in at that moment, they might have thought themselves approaching a statue. Yet, even as her stillness became a very part of the room she stood in, her mind flew amongst the very stars she ignored.:: ::Much of her thoughts were empty, distant like the burning balls of flame that consumed themselves and eventually became the void that they had once illuminated. They were of her first memories, drifting in space, with everything new and unlearned. Each day had been filled with a kind of wonder, like a child discovering the universe for the first time. And yet, as the days wore on, it became painfully apparent that something was missing. That pain, a deep atramentous divide, never left. Day after day she carried it with her.:: ::Day after day, she suffered.:: ::Memories were, as she’d learned, often taken for granted. As Starfleet medical poked and prodded, she uncovered the true loss. Without friends, without connections, without anyone but herself, Kali had learned how to walk again. Physically she was whole. Physically she had no trouble standing on her own two feet. In her head, however, things were anything but normal.:: ::Now, as she stood on the precipice of the edge of the galaxy, she wondered. The dark beyond was yet unknown. The barrier held within it mystery, and perhaps, something that could help her. Would it work? Would it be worth it? And would their proximity be close enough to matter?:: ::Question after question rattled off as she finally, slowly, closed her eyes.:: ::And that was the first time the image of the blade coming at her appeared. Gasping for air and falling backwards into the nearby table, Kali desperately struggled to grasp what she had just seen…:: TBC Fleet Captain Kalianna Nicholotti Federation Ambassador at Large As simmed by: Lieutenant Commander Ash MacKenna Chief Science Officer USS Columbia R238605KN0
  10. Well done for jumping in! Part of the fun is looking back on your first couple of posts and cringing But if your first post is anything like what you posted in the "Arrival" thread, i'd you're off to a good start. I also know for a fact that at the academy you'll be in capable hands
  11. Welcome aboard StarBase 118 @Lazarus Davis and @Corliss. Good to have you both here and hope you enjoy your time with us.
  12. Another outstanding sim from @Randal Shayne. I also love the exposition you add to your sims! ((Corridors of the Recreation Deck, DS26)) Shayne: It is… improving. Slowly. I… turned down the first officer position a few days ago. I think… I think that may have been a mistake. ::The wind left him with that admission, and he hung, frozen in space, waiting for the smallest breeze to push him one way or the other. He was vulnerable, judged, but he didn’t mind. It came easy. The surrender of control, though brief and frightening, was blissful. Which way would he descend, he wondered? This was a crossroads- an important one. A vital one. Clear of head, dopey of countenance, he waited for path to be chosen.:: ::When it finally arrived, the breeze was not an indistinct, lilting gust as he’d been expecting. It shocked him, and the realm his sleep-deprived mind had created, like an earthquake, gently but firmly reintroducing him to reality. The lightning bolt stunned him from within, and he returned to the present.:: ::He smiled slightly as he felt MacKenna’s urgent yet soft grasp. So here was Zeus.:: MacKenna: I… ::But why was this the result of his revelation? She seemed struck, much as he had been, and not in a way he’d witnessed before. It was not understanding, or surprise. It was a sympathetic vibration that Shayne, for the life of him, could not grasp. He wondered what he’d done, what had triggered this latest surge of feeling that he could not help but feel as well.:: MacKenna: Let’s go somewhere. ::The wistfulness was gone, the fear tran[...]ed into purpose. Shayne could only watch with enraptured fascination as this timid, quiet woman remained quintessentially herself, but now marched, infused with a purpose he was as yet unable to fathom. They were so similar- how could this elude him? What would make him do precisely those actions, feel precisely those things?:: Shayne: Lead on. ::And she did. Winding through corridors, not terribly fast, but with burning need. He could sense it, knew it utterly. And he knew also that however far they walked, their quest had just begun, and would be completed on a different plane then the one they padded down now. The corridors were livid, projected upon by her drive and his adoration, so that the soft green metal glowed with glee in Shayne’s ravenous eyes. Throughout their inspired traipse, not once- not ever- did he worry about where he was going, or where they’d end up. He trusted her, and knew her. Wherever she was… was right.:: MacKenna: I understand how you feel. I’ve been there once. But it gets better. ::How could she not? This level of awkwardness, of fear… its consequences were not unique to him. How many opportunities had MacKenna passed by, just like him? Now he understood the urgency, the need to get him to understand that she’d exhibited. But… the intensity… there was something more. Something Shayne was not gathering.:: Shayne: I trust you. But… does it? They’ll not ask me again- not if they’re in their right minds. ::Where was the vitriol? The pounding, overwhelming self-loathing that had carved itself into his mind over the past few days? Still there, he realized, hidden away, and completely overshadowed by the realization that something good- someone good- was before him. A voice in the wilderness.:: ::How young this science officer was, youthful beauty and aged, tortured reservation wrapped into one astonishing individual. Her eyes were timeless, but the more he looked, the more he desired to know. A lieutenant commander already? Astounding. Even if he did not connect with her on a spiritual level, Shayne realized he was in the presence of someone uncommonly gifted.:: MacKenna: ? ::He stared at her, before quickly diverting his gaze through sheer will. Even in his shock and amazement, her safety and comfort were foremost on his mind. He wasn’t alone. He mulled the foreign concept in his swirling brain, trying to attach it to some semblance of reality. No, not foreign. More like a friend of old, waving from the distant sand dunes that granules of time had blasted smooth.:: ::He wanted to hold her, hug her, be with her. She was perfect. It wasn’t even a product of his masculine handicap- yes, she was a stunning person in every way, but this was a purer calling. A genuine, unconditional love- the sort of love that allows you to realize there’s something worth sticking around in the world for.:: ::Gently- for he still tread carefully upon the glassy lake of her consent- he took her hand in both of his, and raised it to his chest, slowly and smoothly.:: Shayne: From the bottom of my heart, thank you. :: “For helping me. For opening yourself up to me. For sharing. For caring. For daring. For… pairing”. He thought better of voicing these silly things. She’d understand better this way, he hoped. Whatever happened now, she had a friend. And anything else she could possibly desire that was within his power to grant.:: Shayne: oO You need only give a sign. I am here for you. Oo MacKenna: ? Tag/TBC… Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne Ops Officer/ Second Officer USS Blackwell NCC 58999 G239202RS0
  13. ((Enroute to the Engineering Deck, USS Fortwith)) ((OOC - You can fit this into the timeline how ever you'd like folks, just had this fresh in my head, so I wanted to get it out there. )) :: Parsons had been a loyal officer, but perhaps even his mind had been a little warped since the beginning of all this. Mac moved quickly through the corridors that didn't have lift access, making sure to keep eyes out along the way for crew members that would need to be ready for the explosion ahead. He didn't even know if he fully trusted what was about to transpire, but they had no other choices, no other options that would even sound remotely sane or possible. He had to get to the core. oO What has gotten into him? Oo. :: :: He remembered the first time he'd brought the man aboard his ship. He remembered how green he was, and also how he had advanced through the ranks fairly swiftly. He remembered his pinning ceremony to that of a Lieutenant Junior Grade under his tutelage. He held back the smile that so often came to his face. But this time, he held his hand on his pistol, drawing it out in preparation for what was to come. The tone of the man's voice had Mac sniffing out mutiny... :: ((Engineering Section, USS Fortwith)) :: The doors to engineering slid open, squeaking as they did having been clearly damaged in the crash. The power was on, and the place was lit, but there was smoke about, and sparks now and again. Some of the uninkured crewmen were making projects of the sparks and smoke, attempting to clean what they could. He holstered his pistol for now, approaching the command and control station. Jeffrey was there. :: McMillan: I don't think the comms were working correctly Lieutenant... Parsons: No... no they worked just fine :: as he turned to face the man before him. :: McMillan: Listen, they have a plan... One that could get us home. Parsons: And you believe it right? There are Klingons onboard Mac... Klingons... McMillan: And they've proven useful thus far. Why now all of a sudden are you doubting me? Listen if you're not gonna follow orders, then I guess I'll have to do this... :: He was cut off by a punch to the throat. He fell to his knees, grasping at his neck. He looked to Parsons, who then kicked him in the face sending him backwards, striking his head hard on the floor. The man walked over to him, securing his weapon in his hand and stepping back. :: McMillan: :: With a winded, raspy voice. :: What the F*&# are you doing.... Parsons: You've been colluding all along... With the Klingons. You brought us here... You killed us REX... YOU KILLED US ALL THE MINUTE WE ENTERED THIS SYSTEM. McMillan: You don't know what you're talking about. That doesn't even make sense Jeff! Parsons: I do... And I'm not letting it go any further... Right after we attempted to get rid of the Klingon that came to Earth. We ambushed them... but somehow, we made it out alive. Somehow, even though many others gave their lives, good ole Rex made it out alive. And now we're here, with Klingons aboard trying to render aid. You're a traitor... :: He was so confused. He hadn't seen this coming at all, not even a hint of it at all. He stood for now, keeping his distance. :: McMillan: Well. Hmph. :: beat:: I guess you'll just have to take me into custody then right? :: You couldn't even touch the tension with a knife. He glared at the boy... who glared right back at him. He was swollen with pride, that he had everything all figured out. He wouldn't know the error of his ways. :: Parsons: Oh you can count on it... :: he started moving towards Rex :: :: He waited for the man to move within a foot of him while turning to place his hands behind his back. He turned suddenly and dove into the man's midsection, sending him backwards into the console. The pistol went flying to the left. Jeff returned with a series of blows to the back of the head, and a kick to the chest. Mac fell to the floor, head cloudy, face a mess... He turned his head right... oO The pistol... Oo. He lunged with every ounce he had left, grabbed the weapon, and turned it towards Parsons... He pulled the trigger, and a round flew, narrowly missing Parsons, and striking the area of the core. He recognized the green that began to spew from the coupling he'd apparently hit. Parsons was nowhere to be found. There he was again, only this time he wielded a spanner, striking Mac in the shoulder. He returned with a head butt, sending Jeff crashing to the floor. He moved to the console and opened the comm as quickly as he could :: McMillan: =/\=BRIDGE! GET READY!=/\= Bridge Folks: =/\=[Tag]=/\= McMillan: =/\= I don't have a lot of time here... There's... AAHHH.... There's plasma venting into the room! =/\= :: He turned to see the plasma spilling into the room, the coolant lines had gone, and the core was going awol at least per the console. He watched as plasma enveloped Parson, setting him ablaze and sucking the air from the room at the same time as ignition. He felt choked. He heard Jeff screaming, and watched as his skin bubbled like the crackling of a roast pig. It fell away from him and then into nothing but carbon spent along the corridor floor. He felt the heat rising... :: Bridge: [Tag] McMillan: =/\= DON'T YOU DARE RACHEL, THERE's NO TIME! I'M EJECTING the co...... Ugh..... AHHHHH..... =/\= Bridge: [Tag] McMillan =/\= Just make sure this wasn't for nothing..... =/\= He cut the comm :: :: His uniform ignited as the green plasma approached. He could feel the air within him boiling, rushing from his lungs, his legs caught fire, then his back and torso... He took his hand and put in the short code for ejection, just as his consciousness left him... :: :: The room suddenly was quiet, and rushing with wind all at once. The air was sucked from the room as the port side hatch opened, ripping the doors from their posts, sending the warp core flying through. It would eject from the side of the vessel in a smoldering heap of junk, ready to burst at the seams. The decompression seemed efficient enough to send the core some distance. :: TBC/Tags -- MSNPC Captain Rex McMillan Commanding Officer USS Fortwith NX-03 as Simmed by Lieutenant JG Na'Lae Mandak Helm Officer USS Blackwell Andaris Task Force O238901VL0
  14. I always love it when @Randal Shayne is left in charge ----------------- ((Bridge, USS Blackwell)) Whittaker: ::he looked to Shayne and spoke directly.:: Report. ::Shayne felt himself shift out of the role of commander, and into the mindset of a first officer, both relishing the relief that Whittaker’s presence afforded, and trying not to concentrate too admimently on the sudden drop in exhilaration and adrenaline. He hoped his decision to bring Whittaker back to the bridge had not interrupted anything the captain had been doing below, but Merzan’s request, the Klingon ships’ sudden movement toward the anomaly, and the other equally dangerous or problematic features of their situation left Shayne feeling as though no other choice were possible. Some part of him chafed at his cowardice- running for daddy as soon as matters got even slightly over his head. Nevertheless, Whittaker was one of the most competent officer’s he’d ever had the pleasure of working with. If anyone could take care of this, it was him. Succinctly, Shayne broke down there current dilemma.:: Shayne: Commander Walker is preparing to test a solution- I don’t pretend to understand it, but it has something to do with beaming down to the surface and attempting to rescue our people. It’s dangerous, so I figured I’d best get your approval on it. They’re on their way to the transporter room now. ::His mind raced, trying to remember that Whittaker had just arrived, and had not been party to the events of the recent past. What else was important?:: Shayne: The gik’tal has begun to move toward the rift- I’ve got Commander Ezo warning them off. Additionally, Mr. Ramirez reports that the anomaly will be closing again soon, in a matter of three hours or less. However, he believes that focusing anti-particles in to the midst of the rift might stave off that closure for a time. And, intriguingly, Commander Merzan has requested to join Walker on her escapade to the surface. ::His words, especially to an outsider who had not witnessed the exchange, sounded somewhat absurd, and so Shayne did not blame Whittaker for consulting with Jolara. It was at that moment that Shayne realized that he should have done just that. She was the counselor, after all, trained to read emotions and detect falsehoods as a secondary but important side effect of her main work. Whittaker hadn’t been on the bridge ten seconds, and already he was making Shayne feel foolish just by implementing sensible behavior. Whittaker: ::to Jolara:: Do you have any reason to suspect Merzan's motives? Jolara: ? ::Shayne’s own confidence in Merzan, and his own determination to not look like an impotent knob, had likely influenced his decision to not consult any of his other officers. He vowed to learn from his error, while still maintaining confidence in Merzan’s sincerity. He had not met a Klingon yet that lied, and he refused to believe that his first encounter with one would be with a Defense Force starship captain. Nagging doubts lingered, of course, but from what he’d seen of Merzan, and Walker, if anything poor were to happen on their little voyage, he felt it unlikely that it would stem from a betrayal on Merzan’s part.:: Whittaker: Alright. Mr. Shayne- give Commander Walker to go ahead to traverse the rift then take Ensign Ramirez, Lieutenant Mandak and Lieutenant James to deflector control to implement the ensign's idea to delay the decay of the rift. ::Shayne gave a swift nod.:: Shayne: Aye, sir. ::The first order of business was communicating Whittaker’s command to Walker, ostensibly in the transporter room at this point.:: Shayne: =/\= Shayne to Walker. The light is green. You may proceed. =/\= Walker: =/\= Will do Commander. We’ll be back soon. =/\= ::He had faith that Walker’s statement was true, but he couldn’t help but pray all the same. He liked this pink-haired commander, and though he regretted the loss of any Starfleet officer most deeply, it would likely be ever so slightly more painful if Walker were to not return. She had such a spark of life, and a love for the same. And, of course, a pregnant wife complicated the mix greatly. Suddenly, he wondered if he should request to take Walker’s place. Shayne was fairly confident that he could handle Merzan’s brusque brutality. But he certainly didn’t have the technical abilities, despite his status as Operations Officer. This was only proven by the fact that he still did not comprehend entirely her plan.:: ::They all had their assigned duties. His were waiting for him in Deflector Control.:: Shayne: On me, folks. ::Shayne made for the turbolift, and could hear the subtle scuffling as the other three individuals moved to follow him.:: Whittaker: Lieutenant Drass, keep monitoring the situation from up here. Ensign Leath, start scanning for anything that might give us a clue as to who is responsible for the creation of this rift. ::From the beginning, the readings had been strangely… formulaic. Orderly, in a way. The idea that it was an artificial creation had lingered in Shayne’s mind throughout this affair. Whittaker’s words now seemed to confirm that perspective. Whatever they’d found, he hoped it would cast more light on their problems.:: Drass/Leath: ? Mandak: And here we go... ::The turbolift doors shut before him, and the quartet plummeted into the bowels of the Blackwell. :: ((Deflector Control, USS Blackwell)) ::Shayne hated the Blackwell’s bridge, mostly because it was a preposterously small affair, deeply insufficient for the volume of people needed within it. When he’d served aboard the Apollo-A with Nicholotti, he’d be astonished by the sheer size of the Odyssey class control center. A transporter room in the back?! Multi-tiered seating? It looked more like a conference room. In his career, he’s luxuriated in the unnecessarily spacious, and groaned in the unreasonably cramped. Now, as he beheld Deflector Control, and how it was not too much smaller than the bridge he’d just exited, he finally resolved to talk to Whittaker at their next refit stop. Perhaps they might be able to scrounge up a larger bridge module for the Blackwell. It was worth a shot, anyway. He put those thoughts aside as Mandak spoke.:: Mandak: So... What now? ::Once again, he was entering a situation that demanded everything but his expertise, or so it felt. He thought himself rather fluent in engineer-speak, but Walker’s plan, and now Ramirez’s idea, eluded his grasp.:: ::Fortunately for the second officer, help was not long in coming.:: Ramirez: Uhmm… Lt. James, you are an engineer, right? ::A good question. He was aware that James was Walker’s wife, but beyond that (and a fleeting understanding of her skill set) Shayne knew virtually nothing about the pregnant officer.:: James: Yes. That’s right. Ramirez: Good. What I need from you is to configure the Deflector to produce the chroniton anti-particles. :: tapping on a PADD, and passing it to James :: These are the characteristics of the anti-particles we need to produce. Do you think it is possible? ::Shayne raised an eyebrow. The newcomer was already taking charge, and from the sounds of it, most competently.:: James: It is possible. Ramirez: Thank you. Please, let me know when the modifications are complete. I will give you then the information about the energy output and how narrow the beam must be. ::The ensign then turned to the newly promoted Mandak, and… did Shayne catch a whiff of affection? Or infatuation? Either way, the brief look on Ramirez’s face vanished within an instant of its appearance, and business was once again on the forefront of his mind.:: Ramirez: :: clearing his throat :: Lt. Mandak, Can you provide the exact location of the outer and inner rims of the anomaly, please? ::The request was simple, but satisfying it would likely be time consuming. Unlike what Shayne had come to expect from anomalies in his travels, this one stayed fairly consistent in size- another factor leading him to personally believe that it was created by mortal instruments, not by the random authority of chance.:: Mandak: ? Ramirez: Please, patch that information to my console once your calculations are complete… Mandak:? ::There was a controlled excitement in Ramirez’s slightly accented voice, and Shayne almost wanted to share in it. Their newest science officer was clearly looking forward to seeing what would result of his idea, and beyond that, Shayne knew that many science officers held the thrill of discovery above almost everything else. Casually, he looked at Ramirez, who promptly noted the intrusion.:: Shayne: You’re looking pleased. Anything I can do to help? ::Just like Merzan, Shayne despised sitting idle. When others around him were working, thas resentment morphed into an intolerable burden. He actually wanted an ensign to give him instructions- anything to be a part of the team.:: Ramirez: Sorry, sir. :: clearing his throat again :: Hmmm… Can you monitor the anomaly and keep an eye on the rift’s chroniton density, please? :: providing a PADD :: Here you will find instructions about how to do it, sir. Please, that that station :: pointing the a place close to Mandak's :: ::Shayne now raised both eyebrows. Most cadets or brand new ensigns demurred from taking command of any situation if offered the opportunity, and those that didn’t often had an inflated opinion of themselves and their abilities. But Ramirez was proving to be a most pleasant surprise. What a remarkable display of competence.:: Shayne: Aye, ensign. Mandak: ? ::After a short time, during which Shayne was just beginning to wrap his mind around his assigned task, James spoke up.:: James: The modifications are done, Ensign. Ramirez: Response ::There was no doubting the concern in James’ voice as she replied. Indeed, Shayne shared some of that apprehension.:: James: ::as casually as she could manage:: And you’re positive this will work ::The doubt was still present, but Ramirez’s confidence gave Shayne the courage to put some faith into their work.:: Ramirez/ Mandak: ? Shayne: From what little I understand, it’s got a good chance. James: Okay… Ready when you are. ::Shayne consulted his instruments.:: Shayne: Ensign, chroniton density is dropping, slowly but surely. We’ve got to hurry. Ramirez/ Mandak/James: ? ::As the process began, Shayne’s panel lit up with a warning he didn’t immediately recognize. After a moment, though, it came to him.:: Shayne: We’re firing an antiproton beam directly into the center of the anomaly. ::He squinted and looked closer.:: Shayne: Some strange readings over here… Ramirez/ Mandak/James: ? Tag/TBC… Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne Ops Officer/ Second Officer USS Blackwell NCC 58999 G239202RS0
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