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Jarred Thoran

Captains Council member
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Jarred Thoran last won the day on November 9

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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. Absolutely love the feigning the character does! Great job @Kiliak Jo ((en route to Deep Space 26, low orbit over Paldor II)) Absentmindedly ignoring the pratter of the jarheads and sacrificial security drones crowding the small shuttle space, Perkins set his finely-tuned wonder of a mind to the task at hand. How was he going to singlehandedly rescue this station and the planet below from imminent disaster? The uncooperative nature of the Atlantis company of misfits only made clear his burden as the lone champion called to serve in this dark hour. He stared out the window and mused, clasping his hands together wisely, bringing the tips of his index fingers together just beneath his nose to indicate his status of deep contemplation. Just as he was gathering together the last details of a perfect plan, he was snapped from this reverie at the mention of weapons fire. Serala: Remember, check your fire this is a high collateral engagement zone. If it's not shooting at you, don't shoot at it. Not without confirmation. Perkins: Yes, please double-check your "trigger happiness." I have many friends here. They soon disembarked the shuttle and boarded the station. At the sight of the familiar Chon architecture, Perkins felt overwhelmed with relief to finally be back home, at last, he had escaped from the clutches of these Atlantean nincompoops. Though it was true that they desperately needed his help, he would not go back if they dragged him kicking and screaming. Solana: Contact, four o'clock. Looks like a dozen all scrambling to get those support craft off the deck. I don't see any Valcarians. oO These idiots can't even keep proper time! It's still morning by the standard Federation clock. Simply unbelievable. Oo Kiax: I wouldn’t be surprised if they were controlling more critical areas of the station. Operations, Engineering, Fusion Cores, Auxiliary Fire Control, Central Damage Control… With direct access to the computer core I can probably get us a significant foothold. Perkins: That can be arranged. I can direct you through some of the more basic processes, get you a username and a password, before we ultimately get to the more complex stuff at which point I will naturally take- Calasio: =/\= Welcome to the newly acquired Imperial Relief Station Alpha-One. =/\= oO Excuse me? Oo Kiax: =/\= You mean the Federation Starbase Deep Space Twenty-Six? =/\= oO Hmpfh. Indeed. Oo Calasio: =/\= I wish to speak to the one in charge of your team. =/\= Perkins: =/\= Yes of course, I am-- =/\= Serala: =/\= This is Lieutenant Commander Serala of the Federation Starship Atlantis. I am in command of this team. =/\= oO Rude! Fine. I'll let her believe she's in charge if its so important to her. Oo Calasio: =/\= This is Commander Yanek Calasio of the Imperial Navy. I am sure you are aware of the situation we all find ourselves in. I wish to make an arrangement. =/\= Serala: =/\= Well, Commander. I’m actually not fully aware of the situation. I know this station is plummeting to the planet below it and unless we can find a way to stop it, everyone onboard, not to mention millions on the planet, will be killed. But I have no idea what has been happening here for the last several months. Without a debriefing, I am afraid I am at a disadvantage in any sort of bargaining or decisions to make agreements. Of course, we did bring a substantial combat force and I would image that some of the Starfleet personnel that didn’t make it off are still here somewhere. I could always fight my way to them, join forces, then retake the station from you. =/\= Calasio: =/\= Now, Commander...you are in no real position to do anything but listen to me. You have just arrived. I have been here for weeks. Do you really think we have not created a battlefield prepared to our advantage? I assure you this is not a fight you want to wage. The station is already falling apart. On top of that, we've rigged bulkheads with explosives, set snares throughout the access tubes, prepared tricks and traps level by level. I've read up on your ship, the Atlantis. I know your Captain Brell is a man of peace. Of discourse. He would listen. I suggest you do the same... =/\= Perkins: =/\= Ha! Brell isn't even- =/\= Serala: =/\= Captain Brell is not here. I am. And I do things my way. I will answer to Captain Brell later, if needs be. If he wanted a peaceful resolution, he should have come himself instead of sending his Chief Security and Tactical Officer. =/\= oO Ahh ha, I see. The Romulan wants to keep my presence here covert, her secret Ace in the Hole. The Ringer. The Showstopper. Got it. All right, okay, I'll play along with your little gambit, Miss Siracha. Oo Serala: =/\= Still, there is something to be said for a peaceful solution. Fighting our way through could be costly. You haven’t held your position as long as you have by being unprepared. So, what is your proposal. =/\= Calasio: =/\= It’s quite simple, really. This station is plummeting to its doom. We have seized control of this station at quite at high cost and have no intention of losing it now. I propose to allow you and your ship to assist with evacuating all non-Valcarian personnel from the station. You can use this landing bay for those purposes. We will also coordinate with Atlantis to find a way to stop the station from hitting the planet below, possibly even relocate away from the planet a distance. Once everyone is cleared out and the station is safe, we will take full control of the station and the space around it. Assuming the station doesn’t get destroyed before then, I estimate you should be able to get everyone off in about 36 hours time. Anyone remaining onboard after that forfeits their life and will become subjects of the Empire. =/\= Perkins mind began to wander. oO Say, where did that infernal marine with the attitude problem get off to? Oo Serala: =/\= A very well thought out request, Commander. I have a request of my own first. I need to speak to the Starfleet Officer in charge here on the station. I need to get a sitrep before I can make any decisions which might affect them. I am sure you can understand that? =/\= Calasio: =/\= Your request is understandable, Commander. However, we have no direct communications established with the Starfleet personnel. In fact, station communications are down, which is why I have had to rig this form of communication for us. Still, I will try to get a message through and have them come down to you. =/\= Siracha spoke quietly into her commset, then pointed now to another marine, the big one who had yelled at the problematic one earlier. Perkins didn't understand why she was pointing. Was his fly unzipped or something? He held up his hands to indicate the ineffectiveness of her communication. She pointed again, more pointedly, as the others gathered behind the marine. Perkins narrowed his eyes. Did she want him to keep an eye on this goon to make sure he didn't shoot any bystanders? Yes, that must be it. Good call. Perkins tailed the big monkey, ready to disarm him in a flash if the day's duties came to that. Serala: =/\= Commander Perkins. You know this station better than anyone here. I want you on lead. Get us to Operations. We’re taking that back one way or another. That might give us a better position to bargain from. =/\= Perkins: =/\= Ah, I see. Of course, of course. I will lead the way. ::pushing himself to the fore of the others:: Company, aa-t-tention! Follow me! And-a march one two hut one two, that's it, lively now! =/\= (( Short timeskip )) oO Wait. No, it's the other way. Oo Hardly his fault. He was only rarely down in these sections. He turned around and doubled back, offering the others his charming smile as they continued to follow his lead. This sublevel was really more of a Lieutenant Junior kind of working environment. And all these corridors look the same anyways. Soon they reached a corner, and Perkins was sure that this time it would lead them into Operations. Birmor: Halt. Who goes there? Serala: Lieutenant Commander Serala, Federation Starship Atlantis. Birmor: Sorry friend. This area is off limits to non Valcarians. Serala: We’re here with permission of Commander Calasio. Birmor: Really? Serala: We have some things to discuss and the form of communication we were using was insufficient. Since we’re here under a truce, perhaps you would be kind enough to escort us to him so we can speak in person? Birmor: Sorry Lieutenant Commander Serala of the Federation Starship Atlantis. Standing orders are to only allow Valcarians past this point. ::She made an obvious effort to look at the group of Starfleet Officers.:: And you don’t much look like Valcarians. Serala: And would he be less pleased if his favorite :: quickly checking her rank :: corporal failed to let us past and it resulted in a full-scale invasion from our ship? Just because of a misunderstanding? Wouldn’t it be better to take us to him and let him decide what to do with us? Birmor: Excuse me a moment. ::he momentarily vanished:: Perkins: Do you want me to talk to him? I'm great with people. Serala: Birmor: Well Lieutenant Commander Serala of the Federation Starship Atlantis, it seems you have been granted passage. oO Hmpfh! Could at least get her name right. I'll let it slide though, in the name of diplomacy. Oo Perkins: Took you long enough. Let's head out, troops. McKnight: Let's move. Serala / Toh’jak: Response Birmor: It was my absolute pleasure. Commander Calasio is down in the Engineering Section on Level 46. As this used to be your station, I’m sure you know the way. Perkins: Er, yes of course. That's, uhm, fastest way is those stairs back there, or...? Serala / Toh’jak: Response Out of nowhere, bolts of blaster fire. One blast struck Perkins right in his good shoulder. He went down, collapsing into a crumpled pile immediately, a tactic to shield himself from possible continued fire as his eyes wetted with sudden tears. McKnight: AMBUSH! oO Is this it? Am I going to die? Here? Just in my moment of liberation? Who will help all these people if I must perish now? Oo Birmor: STAND DOWN! CEASE FIRE. CEASE FIRE. Perkins: It's a trick! I'm hit! They shot me! Ambush! Betrayal! Shoot back, you worthless imbeciles! McKnight: Cease fire! Cease fire! Secure the area! Serala / Toh’jak: Response Clutching his wound, likely a mortal wound, Perkins heard a disembodied voice nearby. His vision was blurry. Was it... his father? The voice of God? McKnight: You alright, Commander? Perkins: I'm so sorry. ::coughing:: I don't know if I'll make it. You must go on... without me... ---------------------------------------------- Lt. Commander Perkins Engineer at Large Deep Space 26 A239509KJ0 ---------------------------------------------- courtesy of ---------------------------------------------- Lieutenant Kiliak Jo Asst. Chief Engineer USS Atlantis A239509KJ0 -----------------------------------------------
  2. Nothing quite like reading about the daily grind of an Operations Officer. Great work @Esa_Darkkdust ((Bridge, Deck 1, USS Atlantis)) ((Final Day of Shore Leave)) Even as the excitement, heartbreak, arguments and joys of Shore Leave began to draw to a close, there was still a reasonable level of ‘holiday buzz’ around the crew, even as they prepared to depart for their impending assignment. Nobody was really any the wiser about what Starfleet had in store for the intrepid crew of Atlantis, except maybe the Intelligence folks, who had probably intercepted every transmission between Starfleet and the Captain by now, despite it being Esa’s job to route incoming signals around the ship. After her conversation with Ishka a few days ago, and no doubt her subsequent conversation with Alex, Esa had found herself posted to the Alpha shift every day for the next month. It was pleasant to not have to constantly swap between the three. Keeping to a routine and forcing her body clock into a normal pattern would certainly do her mental health a world of good. 0700 to 1500 every day, without fail. Esa took pride in the fact that she had been put on the Alpha shift. It made her feel that little bit closer to being chief, without actually holding the title. It also served to keep the cacophony of personalities in her head in check, as the day shift was notoriously busy with so many departments requesting operational support from Esa and the team. She had, much to her dismay, started her day by receiving a request for a janitorial team to make their way to the bathrooms on Deck Ten. The communication had gone something along the lines of a foul stench emanating from one of the pair toward the fore of the ship, just behind the torpedo launch bay. Naturally, this meant a whole world of problems for Esa, who had to report the issue to Engineering, as there was likely going to be fallout in the waste processing and water treatment areas as well. It simply wouldn’t do to have a sewage explosion so close to their departure date. Fortunately, only a mere half-hour later, the janitorial staff had reported that it was simply a blocked lavatory, and that the issue would be fixed as soon as the air purifiers had a chance to work their magic. This would, however, prove to be the most interesting thing that would happen for the next few hours. With many of the ship’s departments working to finalise their prep work before departure, the number of physically actionable requests dwindled steadily toward the middle of the morning, with the majority of requests around this time relating to power management, and system upgrades. The main computer core had to be taken offline for a short while (much to the annoyance of Engineering, as their usually quite responsive secondary engineering core had become bombarded with requests), as Esa had received yet another new LCARS revision from Starfleet. This one was only minor in terms of feature updates, with the bulk of updated material pertaining to bug fixes and UI improvements. Esa was unsure how people on later shifts would react when the layout of their console had changed while they had been sleeping, but it was nothing the seasoned computer engineer couldn’t handle, and the update went by smoothly and quickly. Not only this, but holodeck time requests were still coming in to be allocated amongst the crew, with much of Holodeck 1’s timetable for the day booked up wall to wall; The Marines were using their holodeck down on deck 13 for training scenarios today, so Esa had been unable to assign any overspill from the leisure use decks on deck 6 to it. While all this was happening, Stellar Cartography were fighting it out with Astrometrics over use of the sensor suites, as both were trying to update their star charts and navigational data at the same time; and Evie was asking for yet more power to be routed to Science Lab 01, no doubt to facilitate the development of her AI into the Electronic and Cyberwarfare suites. The proposals that she had looked at seemed to be solid, which wasn’t a surprise, seeing as the woman held four degrees in the subject, but she had advised her to hold off any further integration with the ship until she had had a chance to review the specs with the Captain. Alas, he had been far too busy meeting the other heads of departments to deal with her at the time, so the request had gone unanswered. Esa didn’t mind, but Evie had given her a substantial dressing down for her incompetency and lack of effort. Evie’s words had been quite harsh, but her bark was far worse than her bite, and the threat of having an official complaint written up about Esa had gone unactioned. A few times the mundane routine interactions with the ship had been interrupted by new crewmembers transferring aboard, having finished their meetings with the Captain and XO, now coming straight to Esa for their new quarters assignments. Having never been an enlisted, Esa sometimes wondered what it was like meeting a new roommate for the first time. This was quickly followed by a request to have someone from Logistics help move their belongings from the cargo area on deck 8 up to their new homes. A few departing officers and non-coms were also making several requests of the logistics team, who were obviously in high demand today. Around the middle of the day, mere minutes before Esa had planned to take a quick break to grab some lunch, the quartermaster from the armoury on deck 4 had reported a series of missing explosive charges from one of their storage lockers, and was demanding an explanation. Esa had to explain to them a number of times that they had been taken by the marines for the boarding drill, and were due to be returned at some point later today. Evidently, with the shakeup in the Tactical/Security departments, a few memos had missed their intended recipients. She was still kicking herself for not managing the communications better surrounding the drill, but the thing had happened so quickly that she had little time to inform the right people of the prep work. No doubt Esa would be apologising to Maddi for that one when she got home later tonight. Finally, a good ten minutes of explaining later, Esa managed to flag down a passing colleague to man her post while she grabbed a sandwich. That was the one downside to working the Ops station; The need for it to be constantly manned meant there was very little in the way of flexibility when one needed to take a comfort break. After a quick 30 minute lunch break, Esa was back on the bridge, this time dealing with the request from engineering to divert power away from the main navigational deflector so that they could perform a diagnostic and alignment pass. Naturally, this took priority over the science labs use time, so she had assigned them the secondary deflector while the engineering crews worked. She was met with a less than favourable response to this, as one of the labs had been using it to project a tightly focussed energy beam onto some nearby graviton particles as part of an experiment they were undertaking. Naturally, the need to get the ship ready for departure took priority, and Esa apologised for spoiling their results. She always took the blame for scheduling errors, though most of the time it wasn’t her fault. People liked to have someone to complain to, or about, and as she was the one making the decisions it made sense for it to be her. The remaining two hours of her shift were spent overseeing the delivery of a new spare warp core into the storage tube that ran between decks 10 and 15. The freighter captain had offered no explanation as to why they were receiving a new core, only that a request had come in and his job was to deliver it, not ask questions. Esa had little choice but to agree, instead wondering why the Captain, or Engineering, for that matter, would have put a request in for such a thing. What did their assignment hold in store for them that necessitated such a piece of equipment? Once the delivery and install had been finalised, Esa handed over to Fiorr, who was on the Beta shift for the next few days, and bid him farewell. While on duty, she had managed to slot some R&R time in on Holodeck Two for herself, and planned to spend the rest of the afternoon giving Ishka’s spa recommendations a whirl, before dinner with Maddi. Travelling via her quarters to get dressed, she flopped down on the bed for a moment to deflate, letting her arm hang down to pet Lyra, who was a welcome presence in what had been a rather busy, stressful day. Her small face looked up at Esa, her dark eyes regarding the Trill. She offered a small bark to draw Esa’s attention whose response was to invite her up for a cuddle. Esa: You have no idea what a day I’ve had today. You know, I envy you sometimes, Lyra. Not a care in the world… Lyra let out a small woof in response, seemingly in agreement. Esa laughed slightly and replaced Lyra on the floor so that she could change. Lieutenant Esa Kiax Comm/Ops Officer USS Atlantis – NCC 74682 Community History Team Member A239511ED0
  3. 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
  4. A huge congratulations to you both, a truly fantastic achievement
  5. 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*
  6. 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....
  7. 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
  8. 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.
  9. Hello and welcome @Reema Poq, glad to have you with us and i'm excited to see what you come up with
  10. ((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
  11. ((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
  12. 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
  13. Welcome aboard StarBase 118 @Lazarus Davis and @Corliss. Good to have you both here and hope you enjoy your time with us.
  14. 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
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