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Jarred Thoran

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Jarred Thoran last won the day on March 13

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About Jarred Thoran

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  • Birthday August 3

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    Cycling, reading, console & PC gaming, Tae Kwon Do, dancing, history, spending time with my daughter

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  1. @Anath G'Renn I especially loved the part where you put Jarred back together ((Navatria, Valcarian Capital, Arndall)) Thoran: I don’t much like the idea of heading to a Valcarian facility. Doctor, do you think he’ll survive long enough for a shuttle to arrive? G’Renn: He’s not going to drop dead right this second, but the longer we sit here debating what to do the closer we get to that point. Thoran: Okay, i’d like you to do what you can for the moment. Ensign Ferentis, see if you can raise Ensign Mandak for an emergency evacuation. Ferentis: Aye, sir. ::While Ferentis worked on arranging a shuttle for them, Anath and Thoran took on the far more challenging task of convincing a Valcarian to trust outsiders.:: Thoran: Your colleague, ::he pointed towards the Valcarian G’Renn had been treating:: our Doctor states he needs surgery to survive. We don’t have the capability here so we’re going to take him back to our ship. It’s a medical vessel. Valcarian Driver: I cannot allow that. I will need authorisation from command. G’Renn: oO Can we all just cut out the mistrust, paranoia, and delays for ten minutes so we can keep that man from bleeding out? Oo ::Nothing about the situation was helping her frustration. The attitude of the Valcarian was not helpful. The fact that by the letter of their orders they weren’t even supposed to be helping them because of their military uniforms went against Anath’s very nature. Everybody’s anger and mistrust were getting to her and she felt like the lives of two beings were not worth any amount of xenophobia and pride.:: Valcarian Driver: I cannot raise them. Something is interfering with the signal. My colleague is not going anywhere with you. ::One moment, everything seemed to be in the right place from her perspective. Then the ground of Arndall began to quake and Anath found herself viewing the entire world as if it were tilted on its side. She had been thrown off her feet, and it seemed as if her teammates and the Valcarians had been similarly thrown about by the tremors as she got back to her feet.:: Ferentis: What... G’Renn: Ensign, Commander? Are you two alright? Thoran: I’ll be fine. ::The ground began to shake again, startling her. The sounds of screams, weapons fire, and the very world being torn apart all rung through the area and assaulted her sensitive ears. For a moment she instinctively covered her ears and tried to block out the horrifying noises. However, she was needed more than ever. After a moment to regain her bearings she looked around for the source of the sounds.:: Ferentis: The Valcarians must be attacking in full. Thoran: Doctor, the third Valcarian may need some assistance ::he gestured towards the figure that lay on the floor.:: Mr Ferentis, any word on that shuttle? G’Renn: Right away! ::Anath approached the Valcarian with the burns, offering a hand to get them back to a sitting position before pulling them onto their feet. They were probably in a lot of pain, but could walk. The man who had been impaled in the vehicle would need a lot more help.:: G’Renn: Our patients should be ready for transport in the shuttle, ::shooting an angry sideways glance at the driver:: assuming we take them with us. Ferentis: ? Thoran: Good work. Both of you. Now we’ll have to sit tight and hope Ensign Mandak doesn’t take too long. ((Timeskip: Several minutes later)) ::In the grand scheme of things, the shuttle didn’t take too long to arrive. It was only a few minutes at most. Unfortunately, time was a relative thing. When she was curled up on one of the loungers in her living room reading a good book a few minutes wasn’t all that long. In the middle of an active warzone each second dragged on forever, heavy with the threat of sudden death from some stray fire from the battle or a miscalculated artillery strike. The familiar sound of a Federation shuttlecraft’s engines immediately drew her attention to the sky.:: Thoran: Cavalry’s here. Let’s move out. Mandak: =/\= Mandak to Ferentis, Ready when you are! =/\= Ferentis: ? ::Finally things were looking up. Looking up until they tried to gather their patients, that is. That’s when the Valcarian driver decided to step in their path and try to stop them.:: Valcarian Driver: I said my..people..stay.. ::he thrust a pointed finger towards the floor.:: here. Thoran: Your people are seriously injured and need medical attention. At the very least, allow us to take you and your colleagues to a Valcarian facility. ::What happened next happened so quickly Anath barely registered what all occurred. Commander Thoran tried to pass by the Valcarian, there was some movement from the driver, and then their security chief sent him to the ground. This was not going well.:: Thoran: You can come with us or you can stay here. Your colleagues will die if they don’t get medical attention very very soon. Valcarian Driver: I shall stay here. And I assure you, I shall be making a full report. ::With that, they collected the two injured Valcarians very carefully and carried them over to where the shuttle had landed a short distance away. Anath helped Ferentis carry the soldier from the backseat of the crash.:: Thoran: Doctor, hopefully you should have everything here to stabilise them long enough for us to reach the Blackwell. Mr Ferentis, see if you can get a lock on the supplies and transport them aboard. G’Renn: They should be able to make it. We definitely shouldn’t wait around any longer than we have to. Ferentis: ? ::Anath helped the two into the shuttle and tried to make them as comfortable as she could. The shuttles weren’t exactly as spacious as an ambulance runabout but there was more than enough room for two patients. Once they were secure she made her way to the front of the shuttle.:: Thoran: Good to see you Ensign. Mandak: To the Blackwell then? Do they know we're coming? Thoran: I’d like you to do a fly over of the city, see if there is a hospital or something. If not, then yes, the Blackwell. Mandak: Anyone else coming? ::Anath wanted to go back and talk, or yell, some sense into the driver. He was being stubborn and letting his pride get in the way of any common sense. Unfortunately that wasn’t the kind of problem that a few Klingon insults could fix. Besides, she had absolutely no authority when it came to “you’re being too stubborn.”:: Thoran: Just us i’m afraid. Mandak: ? ::She found a seat just as the shuttle took off and began to climb into the sky above the city. Anath closed her eyes and tried to banish all the aggressive and unhappy thoughts from her brain. Then all the noises of the shuttle stopped. When she opened her eyes and noticed that the power was off and the shuttle was dark. Even worse, it was beginning to enter a nosedive towards the surface. As she felt the change in acceleration she had only one thought.:: G’Renn: oO So many ways to die in the line of duty, please not like this… Oo Thoran: Report. G’Renn: I think something may have disrupted our power. oO Or someone’s been seriously neglecting this shuttle’s maintenance schedule OO Ferentis/Mandak: ? ::The impact was quick, and sent her flying out of her seat and into the wall of the shuttlecraft with considerable force. She felt metal dragging across her forehead and could immediately tell that it had broken the skin. She knew even before she could feel the green blood pouring down her forehead. Luckily it felt like a light cut. She wasted no time flipping open her medkit, removing a bandage, and adhering it over the site of impact. There would be time to deal with it later once she was sure her friends were unhurt.:: G’Renn: Is anyone seriously injured? Ferentis/Mandak: ? Thoran: ? ::Anath approached the [...]pit and looked down at Thoran’s chest. She couldn’t see very well, but it seemed that something had been lodged in his stomach, and the area immediately around the object was darker than the rest of his uniform.:: G’Renn: Commander, try not to move too much. I’ll do what I can for you, but I need some more light. Either of you have a lamp? Ferentis/Mandak: ? ::After switching on the emergency light source and setting it on the console above them, Anath opened Commander Thoran’s uniform outer jacket and looked closer at the wound. A piece of metal shrapnel was the culprit. She would need to act quickly to get it removed before it caused any more serious bleeding. Anath removed a set of gloves from her medkit as well as her field surgery kit. She broke the sterile seal on the kit and removed a few tools that she would need to remove the shrapnel, as well as loading a hypospray with a light painkiller.:: G’Renn: Deep breaths, Mr. Thoran. This is going to pinch just a bit. ::That was of course a bit of an understatement. Even with a painkiller now moving through his system he would probably still feel it. If she had her way she’d sedate him before removing the object. Unfortunately time was not on their side, and after your shuttle was just possibly shot down was not the time to sedate your security officer. She waited for a few moments after injecting the painkiller before swiftly removing the piece of console and setting it aside.:: Thoran: ? G’Renn: Okay, so maybe a little more than a bit. Just hold still while I close up the wound and the painkiller does its job. ::Charging up the dermal regenerator as she spoke:: Deep breathes, few words. ::For such a small piece of metal, the piece of debris had certainly done quite a bit of damage to the commander. Much like the similarly small and sharp arrowhead that had struck him in the knee during their holodeck exercise. Anath spent about a minute with an autosuture and a dermal regenerator sealing the wound before applying a bandage and backing up to give Thoran some room to breathe. Not a moment after she stood up, she heard what could only be described as an angry shriek from somewhere outside the shuttle. She couldn’t be sure, but it didn’t sound like a normal humanoid race. It sounded insectoid, and made her skin crawl.:: Mandak/Ferentis/Thoran: ? Lieutenant Anath G'Renn Chief Medical Officer, USS Blackwell - Andaris Task Force A239402AG0
  2. ((Holodeck, USS Blackwell, In the Caves)) ::It was all she could do to keep firing. Thankfully, she’d gotten quite a few lucky shots and the ones on the other side didn’t seem to get any. With the thought that she might actually end up hurt or dead in this exercise, she felt a kind of fury well up within. How dare anyone put the crew at risk, especially without telling them that.:: ::Her mind scattered as her body went into autopilot mode. Faster than she could keep track, she fired arrow after arrow making sure to stand between the counselor and the weapons pointed at her. Somewhere nearby, she knew the rogue was fighting just as hard. With hair flying and blood spattering around them, Cayden found herself lost in the moment. It threatened to drag her down to a place she wasn’t sure she wanted to visit. At least not then, and not in the middle of the chaos.:: ::Nevertheless, fury clouded the best intentions and soon she found herself fighting an entirely different fight. Though she was there in the holodeck, fighting the goblins and robed figures, her mind saw the Jem’Hadar. Around them blood was spilt and the warriors of the other side fell. In her mind she saw both sides falling. Friends, comrades, partners in so much more than just a class project.:: ::Cayden was there in the holodeck, but her mind was far away, in the body of Jazra, on the surface of Betazed. And Betazed was just about to fall.:: ((Flashback, Medara Betazed, 2374)) Jaxx: Saraa!!!! ::The blood curdling scream drew her attention regardless of how much she was trying to look at what she was doing. They had been given no warning, no time to prepare, and just like that, Jazra Adyr had absolutely no time to process what was happening.:: Adyr (Jazra): We need to get out of here! ::She grabbed his arm and pulled desperately, and yet he held on to the lifeless body of his betrothed. Looking back later, she knew she couldn’t have blamed him, but in that moment they needed to move. The hulking forms of whatever was bombing them were coming. She could see their shadows dancing in the courtyard below where they stood now.:: ::There were no words to be said. Jazra could see the blood and the gash on her best friend’s head. But there was no time.:: ((End Flashback)) ::Somewhere off to the side of the room, Cayden half expected to see Jaxx, along with the lifeless body of the woman he was to marry. Her own stint on Betazed had been to school there, which had been a high honor. She’d become as much a member of society and of her own little family as possible. Then they came and took it all from her, including her life.:: ((Flashback, Medara Betazed, Not Long After the Invasion)) ::Flickers of light lit the path of the resistance fighters as they moved through the shadows of the nearly abandoned outer neighborhoods. The roads stank of death and burnt flesh that had been left behind by the murderous troops that had been through there. Some of those who had once lived there were mercifully put to death, but others were now prisoners. It was those prisoners that she now lead the small team towards.:: ::The mission was considered to be suicide, but Jazra, who had joined the ranks of a small group of rebels who fought against the Jem’Hadar after the death of her best friend, knew that if they did succeed, they would potentially turn some things in their favor. Though the chances were extremely slim, it was that tiny percent that she held to be the truth. They would win this night; they had to.:: ::In her mind, the face of Jaxx flickered in the firelight of their hideout, the one place where they found respite from the war. It was a safehouse where the rebellion came together to plot and plan, and one that moved often, but it was one that held all of the few good memories that she had left. The days that had followed the initial invasion had been difficult, but even moreso for the man who now led the Medara resistance cell she was a part of. He had lost the girl he was to marry and she had lost her best friend. In the wake of such devastation, the two had clung together to remind themselves just why life was worth fighting for.:: ::The memories of his touch brought an inexplicable smile to her face as her small team moved into position. It was that touch that she longed to feel again, and that touch that would bring her home.:: ::As her eyes rose to meet the imposing building in front of them and the troops standing guard outside of it, she suddenly felt lightheaded. Half of her wanted to run back to that house now, and back to the relative safety of his arms, but her mind held her firmly where she was. A voice whispered in the darkness behind her, having seen the initial reaction.:: ((End Flashback)) ::Her fury only grew and she lashed out on the creatures – every single one of them – with everything that had been stowed away following Jazra’s death. She could feel herself moving faster and harder than she thought she could, and for the moment, she let go of any control and let her adversaries face the hatred of her past.:: ::Somewhere in the back of her mind she could see the creatures dropping until there weren’t many left. And then suddenly, perhaps it was an arrow or maybe the daggers the rogue wielded, all that was left was a puff of acrid smelling smoke where the so-called ringleader used to stand. When Cayden came to, all she could see was a pile of tattered robes and a strange looking claw on top of them.:: ::It took her a long moment to catch her breath, all the while she stood in place.:: Jolara/Mandak: ? ::Standing and putting her bow back on her back, she shrugged.:: Adyr: That was something I don’t necessarily want to do again. Hopefully that’s something important. Jolara/Mandak: ? ::As if they hadn’t already been through enough, the cavern suddenly shone bright like a star had just been born right there in front of them. Blinking and trying to regain her sight, Cayden could feel the energy of something now. Around them, the bodies of the fallen seemed to fade into the dirt itself as a strange wall of dark light, if that made any sense, descended from nowhere right to their feet.:: ::All she could do was look at it strangely.:: Adyr: Well, either somethings coming out of it, or we’re going in it. If I had half a thought I’d say let’s roll. ::Especially considering the re-emergence of thoughts she didn’t want anything to do with.:: Jolara/Mandak: ? TAG/TBC Lieutenant Commander Cayden Adyr Chief Intelligence Officer (Executive Officer) Andaris Task Force R238605KN0
  3. PNPC Ensign Ferentis: Dots

    @Randal Shayne yet another incredible Ferentis post. Such an enjoyable read ------------------------------------- ((Deck 10, Near Holodeck 1, USS Blackwell)) ::For the first time in many years, Ferentis was distracted on the job.:: ::He was a dinosaur with a keen, active mind. Despite his somewhat deliberate, lethargic appearance, beneath the massive dome of leathery skin and scaly hide that roosted upon his broad shoulders, a powerful intellect snapped and explored. Multitasking was often a breeze, with his attention rationed equally on his often delicate engineering tasks and the music he so frequently tuned into, or conversation (something that happened with far less frequency), or on the great mysteries of the universe.:: ::But now, he was kept from focusing on his labors by the nagging task ahead of him.:: ::He squinted and shook his head slightly, the bulbous cranium whipping back and forth. Now it was time for systems diagnostics. Now was not the time for dwelling on what awaited him in his quarters.:: ::A grumbling sigh emerged from his lips as he reexamined the task before him. The holographic systems were suddenly clamoring for more maintenance than usual. In particular, Holodeck 1 had not seen a rest for hours. This wasn’t unusual- holodeck time was a highly prized, highly valuable commodity, especially during a journey of this length. Indeed, oftentimes they received no downtime for days at a stretch. Generally, there was no trouble, but this time around, the strain on the machine was more visible, as was the toll it took on the circuits and relays. Ferentis had been at a loss until he was informed that what seemed like the entire senior staff was in that single holodeck, playing games. “Team building”, the crewman had called it. Team building. Why did they have to use a holodeck to build a team? For that matter, why did they all have to share the same one? One or two or three or four or twenty people in a single simulation could usually be handled without difficulty, so long as they all stayed in one another’s general proximity, and didn’t push the limits of the holodeck’s capabilities. But if the entire senior staff had gone inside, and if the program was detailed enough, and if they’d split up, that might very well stretch the capabilities of the computer. Once he’d heard that information, it made sense. A millisecond after, he realized what it would take to keep the whole confounded thing going perpetually.:: ::Though he was mildly displeased, the real irritation came in the realization that he’d likely have to wait many hours before he could open the letter.:: ::He’d been putting it off for days, letting the icon on the monitor blink its mournful announcement without cessation. He didn’t want to see who it was from, nor read it. In fact, he was utterly convinced that things would have been better were he to have not received it. Much thought had gone into deleting it, and foregoing its examination entirely. But something stopped him. He was caught in limbo.:: ::The icon blinked on…:: ::He was sleeping, his great thick tail wrapped around his body like a cat’s, when the dream came. There was too much to follow- it wasn’t sensible. Ferentis tried to keep up, and had some limited success. If someone had asked him to recount it, he would have been utterly unable to. All he knew is that when he finally awoke to the alarm overhead, he had an overpowering desire to read the letter. It was the kind of gnashing, hungering desire that one was only blessed with on the rarest of occasions, the type that stuck with you until you performed whatever deed the urge demanded. He got to his feet- a remarkable process, to be sure- and was nearly to the console when he realized just how astonishingly late for his duty shift he was. Normally, he’d leap to action, and bolt out the door as soon as he slipped on his regulation duty smock- well, normally, he wouldn’t be late at all; Ferentis just wasn’t that sort of Pakhwa-thanh. And yet, now he stopped, glancing toward his closet and the console that housed the letter. Closet. Console. Closet. Growling low and dangerous-like, he stomped toward his clothes and draped a uniform over his green, semi-awake carcass.:: Ferentis: Later. ::With that he’d left, moving quickly, and preparing the words he’d use to plead his case to the commander of his watch. But the letter never quite left his mind for the whole day.:: ((Timeskip, several agonizing, button-filled hours later, in his quarters)) ::And now he crouched in front of the console that had been haunting his dreams.:: ::Blink.:: ::Blink.:: ::Blink.:: ::In one fluid motion, he pressed the control that would open the letter.:: ::When he soaked in enough courage to open his eyes, he took in as much information as he could.:: ::Dots.:: ::The screen was filled with dots.:: ::Hundreds- no, thousands- no, tens of thousands, littered the screen, in no pattern whatsoever. Ferentis scrolled up and down the document, looking for something further. Nothing.:: ::Was it a code? A symbol? Had the transmission been corrupted? With haste, he checked the address.:: ::”To Thordic Sende Ulthex Ferentis”. Yup, that was him. “From”...:: ::He squinted.:: ::”From the Eyeless”.:: Ferentis: Well, that’s just maddeningly unhelpful. ::On the one hand, his desire to read the message had been relieved. Further, he was glad that it didn’t contain news from old acquaintances- or any news, for that matter, especially any that came from Dupwa-thuv, his homeworld. But the fact that it contained nothing...at all, really, deeply disappointed him. For the next three hours, he ran every sort of analysis he could think of on the array of screen pimples. It was three hours wasted. In frustration, he finally gave a groan, and then a sorry little whimper, and resolved to turn in early. As his tail wrapped around him again, he couldn’t help but notice the symmetry. He’d gone to bed dreaming of the letter. Now he’d go to sleep dreaming of how to read the letter. His heavy eyelids shut, and he was again cast into the ether of unconsciousness… TBC… PNPC Ensign Ferentis Engineer USS Blackwell NCC 58999 =======As simmed by======= Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne Helmsman/Ops Officer/Second Officer USS Blackwell NCC 58999 G239202RS0
  4. (( Prior to Briefing, Just after Check In, USS Blackwell, Deck 12)) ((OOC- Started working on this a while ago, thought I'd finish it up and shine a light on Lae a bit. )) :: It had only been a short while since Lae had checked in aboard her newest assignment. She had spoken with the commandant of the task force to start, getting some pretty simple orders for the time being. Most everyone else were all trying to check in with medical, or psych, or whomever they needed in order to get their particular show on the road. Lae had decided to take a small tour instead. She'd be doing things a bit backwards, wanting to get to her quarters and get her things moved in from the cargo area. She moved off of the deck 12 turbolift right near the Shuttle Flight Control room. She smirked a bit remembering her first commission... The commandeering of the shuttle that took her from academy to Starbase 11, and the pilot who almost soiled himself...:: (( Flashback three years prior, Shuttle Tyderion, Perimeter of Starbase 11)) :: She'd been enroute to her first posting for some time, but finally the shuttle pilot looked over to her. :: Pilot: We'll be arriving shortly ma'am. Mandak: Perfect... It's been a while since we left... Is that... :: She smiled as she leaned forward through the [...]pit area. She found herself instinctively sitting down in the second seat next to the pilot, watching in awe as the Starbase came into view. It wasn't the base that caught her attention though... It was the Constitution, and her massive glory. All 42 decks were calling her name. She felt a rush of energy all at once, knowing that she needed to be on that ship; that her life was about to begin. :: Mandak: We going to the Constitution I hope? Pilot: Well I'd orders to set down on the Starbase ma'am... :: She pulled up the comm stack before letting him talk further. :: Mandak: USS Constitution, this is Shuttle Tyderion, requesting to land... :: she mouthed the words sorry to the shuttle pilot...:: Conny: Tyderion, cleared to bay Two High. Slow approach pattern advised. Mandak: May I? :: looking to the pilot, who was still figuring what to do...:: Pilot: I mean, you basically already are so... :: He sort of put his hands up in desperation, signaling his transfer of control to her. :: :: She Rubbed her hands together, and got her bearings about the control panel. oO You could just be appropriate, just this once... NAH...Oo. Lae wasn't a hotshot by any means, but there was the random occasion where she'd run outside the lines a bit. This was one of those occasions. She took control, and moved the speed indicator up a bit. :: Pilot: I'm pretty sure they advised low speed approach ma'am... Mandak: They did? Hmm... :: They were making their way pretty quickly to the suggested bay, and noted that the door was opening. She moved the speed up even higher, moving quicker and quicker towards the bay. her eyes widened a bit as she waited for the right moment. The proximity alarm began to go off, sending the pilot into a panic. :: Pilot: Ma'am, give ME CONTROL! NOW! Mandak: Live a little will you? :: She punched in a 180 maneuver, turning the shuttle about face as they continued to move backwards at a ridiculous speed for landing. The rear of the shuttle breached the force field, and she threw on the rear maneuvering thrusters, just long enough to stop the shuttle, having her land ever so gingerly on the deck. She looked at the console with a satisfied look, then having forgot about him for a second, over to the pilot, who showed a face made for radio... :: Pilot: Get out... Mandak: Alright, alright... Sorry... :: The rear hatch opened, and she began to step out. :: Pilot: You forgot something... :: he launched her bag out the rear door onto the floor at her feet. :: Mandak: I said Sorry! :: The door closed as the words came out. This was why she typically chose the more reserved moments in life. :: ((End Flashback 1, Back to Deck 12, USS Blackwell, Quarters Mandak)) :: Before she knew it, she'd managed to wander to where the senior officer's quarters began in that section of the deck. She knew the layout of this deck in particular, as she wanted to be able to offload her gear in good time to make for the first briefing. She found the sliding doors to her room, and punched in her access code. That familiar woosh rang out, and she took a few steps into her new abode. For now, things seemed pretty basic. She wasn't much of an accessorizer, so the chances of it remaining basic were pretty good. Just after she'd arrived, the chime rang on the door. Certainly it would be logistics with her things. :: Mandak: Come :: The door opened once again, and in stepped a rather tall yellow clad logistics officer, with a hovercart of belongings. :: Logs Officer: Ma'am... I have in total three bags, and a personal computer. Mandak: Sounds about right. What about the safe... Logs: Safe ma'am? Mandak: You know... the one with all my credits and latinum in it... :: She shot him a serious look now, with her hands on her hips. :: :: The man seemed to squirm for a moment, clearly not seeing the ruse and thinking he'd messed up. :: Mandak: Sorry, just messing with you. Do I need to sign something? :: The man stayed quiet, and handed her the PADD she was holding. She punched in her signature in receipt of her gear, and gave it back to High Tower. He gave her a low smirk, and went to turn. :: Logs: Anything else ma'am? Mandak: That's all for now... Let me know if you find it... :: With that, he turned and left, chuckling to himself. She moved now to her things, plopping the computer on the bed. She'd a lot on her mind as of late, some of which she'd be able to explore on that computer. With Johan's disappearance some time ago, she'd been combing through local news and other personal sources for any leads on his whereabouts. He had always been the reason to keep on pushing. Always was the reason to keep on fighting, through whatever life had to throw at her. But with him gone now, it made things seem so... heavy. She opened the computer, and pulled up the HUD, punching in her command code. She opened her skimmer app, which could be programmed to scan news sources, much like a ticker, built to custom parameters. Nothing popped out at her... She sighed and laid back on the bed, undoing her top, and letting her hair fall. There wasn't much time till briefing, but she was beginning to doze a bit. ((Dreaming, SS Diligent, Area of Rekar III Trade Space, Some time ago )) Johan: Alright my dear... Take your place. It's nearly time. :: The smell of smoke was thick on the deck of the bridge. The operational room was full of cigar smoke. She never understood the terran man in that sense. Of all the things Na'lae knew of the human race, and in particular this human, she never understood the purpose of a cigar. Johan insisted it was to christen the new ship. Lae didn't necessarily think that her vessel needed to be filled with smoke as a send off. Nonetheless, she thought it was quirky. oO That's dad...Oo. She moved about the cabin, touching all the surfaces and controls as Johan moved around as well, smoking his awful treat. :: Mandak: These things are just as I drew them... Johan: I made it a point to use your drawings in the design plans. Had to make sure this ship was special. Mandak: Well you didn't have to. :: She smiled lightly.:: :: Lae had drawn starships for as long she could remember, using them in stories that would take her imagination to the Sol system and back. She never thougth she would be walking in and touching an embodiment of her mind. :: Johan: You know things are different now. No more being told what to do, when to do it. You've grown. I think it's time you were afforded the opportunity to move forward on your journey. Mandak: You know, for once I think I might be able to do that. :: She moved towards the helm, getting ready for pre-departure procedures, when another man came and motioned to the seat she was about to take. :: Excuse me... Johan: Lae... Your chair is here. :: he pointed to the center chair that was hoisted from the ceiling on a control arm, a bucket type seat with systems panels at the sides, almost like a small pod of sorts. The Captain's seat... oO Why's he pointing at that... Oo. Mandak: I don't get it... Johan: Don't you? I didn't just want to build a ship that was inspired by you. I wanted to build a ship that was commanded by you Lae... It's time. Na'Lae Mandak... Take the seat of your first command. And for gods' sake, let that man take his station... :: Lae was... in shock. Not quite sure what to say, she turned to see the helmsman smiling at her, as were a few of the other crew members. She stumbled to the side awkwardly, letting the man take his post. She moved towards Johan, and touched the arm of the chair. She sat inside the control station, and the control panels came to life. Systems subschecks were being performed, and she could see the progress reports being filed by the deck bosses one at a time through the holographic heads up display. She moved her hands in the air in front of the screens, watching them arrange to her liking. She rotated the control arm on the chair, moving her about the radii of the center of the room. She could see all stations, all angles. Centering back now towards the main helm, the computer prompted her on the screen "ma'am... where shall I plot a course?" :: Johan: This ship knows you, Lae. Knows your make up. It is you... Biometrics that are tuned to you, and can learn from the routines you perform. This is quite your ship now. :: Her thoughts were racing, not knowing how or why, or what next. :: (( End flashback )) :: She stood now, snapping back to reality, with the looming feeling of running late. There had been the trailing of a commbadge notification, no doubt the Captain wanting his seniors to assemble. She got herself together, putting her long hair back up, and redressing. She needed to find Johan... Some way... Some how. She just had to. :: TBC -- Ensign Na'Lae Mandak Helm Officer USS Blackwell Andaris Task Force O238901VL0
  5. ((Holodeck 1, Oakenfort Program, USS Blackwell)) Thoran: Excellent idea. Perhaps you would like to volunteer making a copy of the map for the Whitehammers. Avarin: ::Nodding:: I will. ::She found the individual holding the map and took a long moment to study its contents. The task was not a difficult one and once she had the information, she walked about the square, finally settling on an elderly gentleman dressed in long flowing robes noting as she did so, the ink-stained, gnarled fingers just visible at the end of his voluminous sleeves.:: Avarin: o0The attire is illogical given what I surmise to be his profession but then again, I suspect that this simulation was not intended to be historically accurate.0o ::She approached, her footfalls whisper-quiet though that was more due to years of training rather than any abilities assigned by presentation of a card, and came to stand beside the gentleman. His blue eyes were faded, his nose showing signs of badly set break, and his beard hung to the middle of his thin chest. She could see, now that she was closer, crumbs clinging to its knotted, greying length.:: Avarin: Excuse me, Sir. I am in need of paper and writing implements. Scribe: ::Squinting up at her:: Eh? I've only one length of vellum left and not likely to be giving it to you, I have to say. Avarin: ::[...]ing her head slightly to one side:: o0Vellum. Animal skin and as such, unacceptable were this an actual away mission. This is the holodeck and no lifeform would be harmed to assuage any concerns the team might have about my ability to recall accurately.0o Perhaps you might have a few scraps available? I would not need much to complete my task. Scribe: ::Stroking his beard causing crumbs to spinkle down across his sandaled feet:: I might ... thought I'll not be just giving it away. Avarin: It can be reused. When our task is finished, I will return the scrap to you. Scribe: And why should I trust ::looking her up and down:: the likes of you? Avarin: ::Arching one eyebrow:: Why wouldn't you? We are here at the request of your mayor for the benefit of your town. Surely one scrap of vellum of little worth to you as it is, is a small price to pay. Scribe: ::Nodding sourly:: Aye, I agree. One scrap ::wagging one finger, ink-stained with dirt crusted under a long nail:: but no more! Avarin: Ink and a quill will also be needed. :: Scowling, the Scribe walked away, muttering under his breath, and motioned for her to follow. Together, they entered his home where the Scribe lifted scrolls and boxes, finally finding a scrap of vellum of suitable size. Avarin sat at his desk, an act which caused the man to start muttering again, and drew the map from memory. It was a task suited to her training though not within the skill set outlined on the card she had been given. The Scribe hovered over her shoulder, watching her work, and nodding in mute appreciation.:: Avarin: o0I can be only who I am.0o ::Rising:: Thank you, Sir. I will return this scrap when our task is complete. Scribe: ::Waving her off:: That were good work. No need to return it. Avarin: ::[...]ing her head to one side:: o0Illogical. It will disappear when the simulation ends. :: With that done, she returned to the group and wordlessly handed the map over to the Commander.:: ~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~ Ensign Avarin Engineering Officer I Whitehammers USS Blackwell My Writer ID: A239411ZC0
  6. @Randal Shayne I do love a Ferentis sim! Especially one as well crafted as this! ---------------------- ((Corridor on Deck 6, USS Blackwell)) ::The shimmering colors played against his eyes. Robust bronze, golden ochre, electric blues and every shade in between rebounded within the cramped confines of his working area. His eyesight was not quite up to par with most of the other members of the ship, but in such a feast for the cones as this, his visual inadequacy was hardly relevant. It was merely the reflective nature of the metals and their interaction with the light emitted by the transparent plasma conduit above him, but the rustic beauty it provided was undeniable. The tight EPS access, already a squeeze for most humanoids, proved positively stifling to his considerable bulk. Yet he toiled away regardless.:: ::He loved Gamma Shift.:: ::Ferentis knew how the majority of his fellow Gamma Shifters saw their assignment; as punishment. To any sane, social creature, what else could being relegated to the graveyard shift represent? For many, there was a certain, restrained resentment. Ferentis did not join them in this respect.:: ::Where his comrades complained of their isolation, he reveled in it. Being able to move without running aground on some poor ensign’s face was a tremendous relief. Even he, a Pahkwa’thanh- a race famed for their stringent and ubiquitous codes of etiquette- had begun to grow tired of the word “sorry”. You would too if you had to repeat it forty times a day for crashing into people. He fancied himself as graceful, and blamed these collisions on his natural physical bulk. Maybe he needed to consider the option that he was a genuine clutz.:: ::But not now. Now, he would bask in the lack of interaction, and fix things. In this case, an EPS manifold cut-off.:: ::As his massive talons nimbly provided the dexterity required for such a fragile job, his eyes drifted to a particularly vibrant blue hue out of the corner of his eye. Flecks of green appeared as he focused on it, and his mind immediately took him to the one place he was denied.:: ::Home.:: ::Flashes of forested swaths of contenant passed before his eyes. Great azure oceans and standing swamps pooling around tree trunks the size of warp nacelles. He missed the hot sun spilling against his thick hide, missed the hunt, longed for the stench of decaying plant life and fresh soil. He shut his eyes. Not only was that paradise hundreds of lightyears away, but inaccessible to him as a person. It had been months since the word had come in. Somehow, his family- for it could only have been his family- had maneuvered the Ministry to declare him persona non grata. His name, whatever title he may have inadvertently earned, any chance of returning...gone in single claw print.:: ::And why? Ferentis knew his family loathed him. They were a tiny minority on Pahkwa’thanh had always maintained an isolated viewpoint, and when he had first left their planet to explore, and to learn, he knew he was about as good as dead to virtually all of his immediate family, and probably beyond as well. He hadn’t always expected the relationship to be so...finalized. And now, the perpetual misfit- not welcome at home, not built for a starship, not young enough to start again- wondered what to look forward to.:: ::Even for him, a reserved, dignified individual, found that particular question too painful to dwell on. And so he dived back into his work. But after a few minutes of his brain refusing to clear itself of the loneliness, he realized he would need some additional help.:: Ferentis: Computer, recognize voice print. ::the computer bleeped its acknowledgement.:: Give me something good. ::The codeword was accepted, and he was instantly rewarded. A hard piano entry, accompanied by a bass and a resounding brass chorus gently echoed in his ears. Without meaning to, he began to hum along to the words.:: Computer: =/\= Father wears his Sunday best Mother’s tired, she needs a rest The kids are playing up downstairs Sister’s sighing in her sleep Brother’s got a date to keep, he can’t hang around… =/\= ::It was a harmless little program he’d designed to feed his ever-growing addiction to Earth music. His planet had little interest, and even less invention, when it came to music. Ferentis, ever an outsider, couldn’t imagine life without his tunes close at hand. At his command, the computer would lock onto his combadge and have the nearest ceiling speaker play something random from Earth’s past. Any sort of other communication, such as a ship wide message, would overrule the program- he wasn’t there to create problems. But, as the humans said, if he had it, flaunt it. He had the tech know-how to create what he wanted without massive ramifications. What was stopping him?:: ::The unusual nature of his hearing also helped him, allowing him to receive the full musical experience without cranking up the volume. Should anyone human stride up to him as he labored away at his little impromptu worksite, they’d find a dinosaur with his torso in a hole in the wall, jamming to a whisper.:: ::Suddenly he stopped as thoughts pooled into his mind, unbidden. His body froze, leathery skin and taught scales motionless. Images of the last shore leave, and his raktajino-fueled explosion of bad dancing assaulted him. In the moment he’d enjoyed it. In hindsight, the fact that an entire restaurant had seen him flailing about to music made him seriously consider the airlock. Though he was somewhat confident that no Starfleet personnel besides Anath G’Renn had seen him, even that was enough to make him blush hard. His control had been disrupted- a violation that would be difficult to forget.:: ::Now was not the best time for distractions, as was proven by the startling pain in his claw a moment later. A careless movement had left his now tender hand exposed to a breaker of some sort. He gave a quick, brutal roar, and sucked on the stinging, smoking digit hard.:: Crewman: =/\= Harper to Ensign Ferentis. =/\= ::Ferentis rolled his eyes, trying to keep himself under the most rigid control.:: Ferentis: =/\= Ferentis here. =/\= Crewman: =/\=Sir, I have a message here for you, marked personal. =/\= ::That stopped him. Slowly, he extracted his claw from his mouth. Who would send him a personal message? Certainly no one on Pahkwa’thanh. Nor was it likely to originate from someone he knew during his days on the rim. So who could possibly…:: ::Suddenly he realized the crewman was waiting on him.:: Ferentis: =/\= Thank you, Mr. Harper. Please send it to the terminal in my quarters. Ferentis out. =/\= ::The channel closed, and he found himself more preoccupied than ever. As the whirling thoughts and possibilities fought for ground inside his mind, he forced them down. The message could wait, as much as he craved to see who it was. Too often lately he had let his emotions guide him. He was disciplined individual. He would not yield to the cravings of curiosity when there was work to be done.:: ::And speaking of work, it looked like his little accident had disrupted power on Deck 7. He sighed, the music now a parody of his former decent mood. It would take some time to repair the faults.:: ((Some time later, another junction on Deck 7.)) ::His face was placid, but his mood was quickly dissolving. No one would ever know it, though. Years of control came in handy occasionally. He’d been working for hours, and finally, everything was beginning to approach tip-top shape. He flexed his thick neck, trying to relieve the kink that had found its way there as a result of odd angle he’d been holding it in. Once again, he was reminded of why so few of his people ever left their homeworld.:: Thoran: response. ::The voice startled him slightly, but even that minimal movement caused him to smash his head on the edge of the opening he now worked inside. A low groan escaped his lips before he moved to extricate himself.:: Ferentis: Yes, sir. I apologize for the difficulties- I’ve been working to correct them. I hope there have been no other problems? ::He was afraid that something like this would happen. His error was far from deadly- a minor blunder, at best. But he knew of this individual’s reputation for scrutiny, and excellence in his duties. He should have figured the security chief would have noticed.:: Thoran: response ::He caught the sight of his reflection in a shiny piece of bulkhead. His eyes were a little more red than usual. How long had he been going at this?:: Tag/TBC… PNPC Ensign Ferentis Engineer USS Blackwell NCC 58999 =======as simmed by======= Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne Helmsman/Ops Officer/Second Officer USS Blackwell NCC 58999 G239202RS0
  7. ((Ilsam’s Quarters, USS Blackwell)) ::Looking around his quarters, he smiled softly. With his duties having calmed, he had at last been able to unpack. On a tall bookshelf near the sofa sat hard copies of his favorite collected literature works, a bin containing various PADDs, as well as a few unique artifacts he’d collected over the years. Most were reproductions, of course, with their original counterparts sitting in museums across the quadrant. But even the facsimiles offered a measure of connection to the histories behind them. His passion for art covered the walls of his quarters, a reproduction of Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” and many other classics, as well as a couple of his own paintings.:: ::On the desk in the far opposite corner with his monitor sat various images of his parents and his sister as well as one particularly good image of himself, Usatt, and Ilara. It had been taken on their first trip together. Until meeting his partners, he’d never been outside his home province. They’d travelled the world together, mostly for Usatt’s business conferences. Tai had often kept Ilara entertained with various museum visits, both sharing a passion for art and culture.:: ::A nostalgic smile touched his lips as he lifted the image and framed Ilara’s face gently with the edge of his thumb. She’d been so beautiful...so full of life. Even now, he could hear her laughter ringing out like bells as they danced under the clear, starry skies. The three had been seriously discussing conceiving a child when Usatt and Ilara had been killed. Tai had imagined a thousand times over the wife of his heart cradling the child in her arms after its birth, singing a soft melody in that perfect, lyrical voice of hers. His smile faded, replaced by an implacable longing to hold her in his arms again one last time, if only to tell her how much he loved her and how much she meant to him. How much she’d changed his life.:: ::Setting the image aside, he slid into the chair in front of his monitor, his gaze flickering to the image of himself and his sister, Prielle. His work had kept him rather busy, preventing him from contacting his sister for their daily communique. Given that he was on assignment, those calls were, unfortunately, likely to become fewer. He was uncertain how he’d cope with this drastic change in his life. Prielle had been a source of strength for him since he’d made the difficult choice to leave Bactrica and had kept him going when he’d wanted nothing more than to return home. He entered a series of commands into the panel, calling up the screen he was looking for.::
  8. @KriJBa @Randal Shayne you guys, made me have feels
  9. RAdm Renos - Starfleet Parents

    ((USS Blackwell, Deck 1, Bridge)) Renos: We were on our way to investigate some strange signals detected at a nearby debris field. As we approached the helm console malfunctioned and we lost all control. We -literally- smashed our way through pulling off some insane stunt with the deflector dish. We later discovered a virus in the system was the cause and engineers have been running it down and purging our systems ever since. Doing a great job of it too since we’re nearly ready to depart dry dock once again and get underway. Dirsye: Dear Altha, it’s good the ship is still in one piece. I’m good in security systems, if you don’t mind I’d like to see if I can find any traces of bad coding in the computer once we will be on our way and repairs are done. ::The Admiral wasn’t sure whether or not that would be necessary. Engineering and security had already been tasked with ensuring their systems were completely secure from top to bottom, from the tiniest grains of code and beyond. In nir time here viruses, sabotage and systems bugs had plagued nem. Ne couldn’t stand to see that continue to happen, and to plague this crew the same way. It was beginning to feel like some awful curse ne couldn’t shake, illogical as the notion was. Putting childish paranoia back in its place, ne gave the engineer a small sympathetic smile for ne knew there was a lot of work ahead of the young woman. Her contributions were much needed right now and certainly appreciated.:: Renos: I’m sure it’s not how you imagined your first day would bring. Dirsye: Oh my. What I imagined my life will be and what it turned into are fire and ice, Sir. But the wisdom gained from fire is burning stronger and longer. ::Tya smiled and closed her eyes, apparently lost in thought for a moment.:: I learned to appreciate the pain because every joy is better after that. You know the saying after every rain comes the sun. ::Renos hadn’t heard the saying and didn’t believe it. Weather aside, taking things as ne believed she meant it, nir life had been one long storm. If ne was lucky, it stopped raining for awhile. Sometimes, when ne lay in bed at night ne wondered if happiness was a myth - or maybe just something out of reach for deviants.:: ::Of course, ne loved Asana but ne worried constantly about nem coming to harm during events like this. Nir stomach was always knotted and ne felt ill with worry trying to do what ne could to hold things together, knowing duty kept nem apart from nir baby, who really needed nem in moments like that. Ne worried constantly that Asana would grow to love the nannys - even the holographic one better than nem. They were the ones who cared for nem in times of danger, when ne was occupied with nir duty - which was often. Ne tried to make what little time they got special - but was it enough?:: ::Then there was Poppy. How they had hit it off. Asana had been the unexpected result of their passion. Ne hadn’t even known it was possible for J’naii to reproduce naturally any more! They didn’t do it and hadn’t done for centuries, it was considered too painful and dangerous. Ne had never seen or heard or a pregnant J’naii. Renos certainly wasn’t going out of nir way to break every social taboo in nir culture but was nevertheless well on nir way to achieving it.:: Renos: I’ve heard many sayings all with similar notions. I am fond of the one that goes along the lines of, ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. We all have our challenges to overcome. Dirsye: You can’t have everything. I resigned to have a family, I left my babies on Deep Space 26 with a nanny. I know having Family close can make you work better, but their security is more important and I was informed Deep Space 26 is our safe haven after every mission, so I arranged for quarters there. ::Renos could barely imagine how difficult it must be to have a family and then leave them behind. What was strange to nem, was resigning to have a family, and then leaving them behind. Her priorities had taken her away from Starfleet and that was fine but it seemed her priorities had once again shifted. Her family couldn’t be that important to her if she rejoined Starfleet and left them behind in the care of someone else. It wasn’t Renos’s place to judge. Nir baby was aboard and it was a much safer place than Deep Space 26, in nir view. Deep Space 26 was a Chon station. It was alien in design and had a significant Freeworlds presence. They were effectively guests in this region and didn’t yet have significant influence. There were too many people that could be bought, blackmailed or coerced into kidnapping nir child on behalf of deviant hunters who would be every bit as pleased to see nir baby exterminated as to see nem reconditioned - or worse. Asana was definitely safer here. Not to mention Renos couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing nir baby for an extended period. The ship had already been away from Deep Space 26 for many months and would not be returning there for a great many more either.:: Renos: I think you’ve been misinformed. We will not be returning to Deep Space 26 after every mission. It’s a secure station but in a region like this, no place is a safe haven. It’s not for me to tell you what to do but you might want to consider whether you’ve made the best choice for you and your family there. Dirsye: Whatever you say, Sir. I’ll follow your orders, but I have to be honest and say I’d love to see engineering. It’s heart and soul of every vessel and to every engineer dearest place aboard. ::Obviously nir advise as a parent and someone with more experience in Starfleet was not particularly welcome. Maybe ne had touched on a nerve? This new Ensign seemed really nice and there seemed a certainty bubbliness about her personality that was endearing. It as certainly clear she loved her job. Perhaps ne was overthinking things. After all, if ne knew there was a medical emergency going on, ne would want to be in the middle if sickbay mucking in. Dirsye knew the ship was in trouble, so it was natural that her drive to get in there and put things to rights would be at its peak.:: Renos: Of course, I understand. Welcome aboard Ensign. Go ahead and report to Ensign Yesna in engineering. ::The Admiral hoped to catch up with Dirsye again later. Maybe it would be nice for a couple of parents to compare notes about the highs and lows of being a parent in Starfleet. With Brell having been given command of the Atlanis, he and family members Lyldra and Hars had moved on. Ne really missed them but was sure they would stay in touch. He had relied a lot on Lyldra in particular and her experience bringing up twins Renu and Lianu who were a little older than Asana. The kids would certainly miss each other but as the same time ne couldn’t hold back great officers for nir own selfish needs.:: ::Stepping onto the bridge around the same time as the Ensign left it, was Commander Wilmer and Ensign Tu’Peq.:: Wilmer: Admiral Renos, we’re back from the Burellion cultural exchange, ner. We have some interesting findings to report. Renos: That’s wonderful. I’d love to hear all about it. Wilmer/Tu’Peq: Response ::The trio talked about all that had happened, with Renos wishing ne could have been there. Nir own trip to Burellion had been interesting in its own way and hopefully they would get something solid to use from the Consortium from it. Engineering reported the ship’s condition was sufficient to allow them to leave dry dock. It was still take weeks to get to the frontline where the Valcarians were aggressively expanding and they were well behind their targeted arrival date but there was nothing they could do. The ship would be operating on skeleton crews as they travelled the busy trade lane because it was the only rest they would get before an intense mission.:: Rear Admiral Renos - Commanding Officer, Andaris Task Force * Executive Council & Captain's Council Member A238805EB0
  10. I've never had so much fun reading about somebody throwing up! ------------------------------------------ ((Main Engineering, Deck 21, USS Blackwell)) Thoran: Nothing so far Commander. If there is a virus in the system, it’s an elusive little thing. It may be this device is related in some way. Shayne: As much as I hate to simply abandon the computer like this, we have a clear and present danger on the hull of this ship. The Blackwell isn’t getting underway without our collective approval, so the threat of the virus is lessened, as long as we keep an eye on it. Who knows- if it reaches anything more, we might be able to identify it when we return. Something like that can’t hide forever. ::Charlotte regrettably did not know much about computer viruses. That was more her fiancées speed. Once, aboard the Cardassian freighter Razbu, she had helped isolate a particularly nasty recursive line of code which began making all the replicators speak in fluent Romulan. But the malfunction had been the result of bad programming, not an incursive program. Either way, she could add very little to the moment.:: Farnsworth: I suppose I see your point. ::Charlotte turned to notice Yesna’s approach. She could tell that the white haired engineer seemed giddy and excited about something, as was evident from her beaming grin.:: Yesna: I’m Ready!! :: Her smile still ear to ear and her teeth shining white. :: Shayne: Spacewalk. We’ve got to get whatever it is off the hull. And we’re not splitting up- I assume you are cleared for EVA activity? ::Charlotte froze in her tracks, turning ghastly pale white on her skin. She had never anticipated during her application to the engineering department, that she might have to one day operate outside the vessel. Outer space EVA work made her sick…very sick. And yet, how could she say no? She responded with a nervous and stuttered half-hearted smile.:: Farnsworth: Sure…? ::Charlotte began to pray as they headed for the airlock that her mag-boots would not demagnetize and have her spiraling out of control into the deep, deep depths of uncharted space.:: ((Timeskip)) ((Airlock, Deck 13, USS Blackwell)) ::Charlotte had never prayed before, and yet, as the airlock began to depressurize, she quickly found herself in touch with the almighty.:: Farnsworth: oO Keep your eyes on the hull… keep your eyes on the hull… Oo ::Following the leader, Charlotte stuck in tight formation with those around her, using them as a sort of anchoring point, so that she might not concentrate on where she was walking. One misstep in space, and one could find themselves floating free and unceremoniously away.::: Yesna: Don’t worry you’ll be fine. ::Charlotte couldn’t tell if her nauseated state could be so easily seen through the Starfleet issue spacesuit. For a moment, she thought about addressing the statement, until Thoran spoke up instead.:: Thoran: ::Resigned smile.:: I know. Just like to make sure these ::pointing to the boots:: work and aren’t going to suddenly disengage. Especially given the quality of engineers we have on board. ::Charlotte felt somehow at ease with Thoran’s joking statement. She was glad to know she wasn’t the only one with butterflies in her stomach.:: Shayne: Mag boots ready. Oxygen ready. Tools ready. ::The room started to depressurise.:: ::The doors parted to reveal the great void.:: ::Charlotte’s heart began to pump as though she were running a marathon. In the infinite quiet of the internalized world of her own spacesuit, she could hear only her own breathing, the quiet release of marginally warmed oxygen, and deafening beat of her own fearful heart.:: ::If she suffocated in space, her last thoughts would be of Nate, but the sound she would hear was her own heart drumming out anxiety.:: Shayne: Sound off, please. Yesna: Response Thoran: All good here commander. ::Charlotte separated herself from the hull, allowing the great miasma of nothingness to embrace her. Her stomach released from its grounded perch inside her, and did somersaults. Still she did her best to reply.:: Farnsworth: I…am…. ::fighting queasiness.:: …alive… ::She stayed in focus on the backside of Shayne. He would have to be her focal point. To look anywhere else was to invite still more fear and nausea.:: Shayne: Tricorder readings. Yesna: Response ::Time slowed to a crawl with every breath. Charlotte imagined herself in her wedding dress, to try and calm herself. The wedding was not far away now. She had something to live for, she would not die in space.:: Shayne: Very well. Let’s head out. ::Charlotte again responded.:: Farnsworth: Head… ::fighting the tumbling of her ever approaching lunch.:: …heading out…. Thoran: After you. I insist. ::Free floating in space, to Charlotte’s estimation, was not like reentering the womb, as some had so artistically put it. It was more like riding the tilta-whirl cup at Disneyworld, but with no motion suppression system engaged. Charlotte felt woozy, but pressed on.:: Yesna: Response Farnsworth: We’re not…..::she hiccupped, feeling the acrid taste of her own stomach contents in the back of her throat:: …we’re not…far…from it now… ::She was becoming disoriented, unfocused, she didn’t know how much longer she could hold out.:: Shayne: Response ::Charlotte’s eyes focused on the box. However, all her stomach could focus on was emptying its contents.:: Thoran: ::Looking to the group.:: So uh, now we’ve found it, how do we get rid of it? ::Charlotte did not how to respond. She suddenly hated all of her ambitions. She hated that she had volunteered for this mission, hated her space suit, hated this stupid box and its stupid contents. She hated space. She hated the fact that she had Mexican food for lunch.:: Farnsworth: I… uhm…::choking back her nausea:: I… uhhhhhh….. I’m going to be…. ::At once, an explosive cavalcade of partially digested materials projected from her mouth and into the helmet of her spacesuit. The sounds of regurgitation filled the commline, and Charlotte could not help but feel intense embarrassment as no doubt every member of the team knew what was happening.:: ::Lunch had been officially lost.:: ::Her vision now was obscured, as the material and mess free floated in front of her transparent helmet faceplate. She couldn’t see and how no idea how she might get back to the ship, with reduced vision.:: Yesna/ Response Shayne: Response ::Charlotte felt immediate embarrassment. She hoped that Nate would not learn of this fiasco, for he would never let her live it down.:: Farnsworth: Sorry… I’m sorry…. ::Now beginning to feel better:: What should I do? Is there a way to clear this out easily? Or am I just going to have to hope it doesn’t float into my hair and eyes??? ::Charlotte was beyond saving face at this point. There was no aristocratic way to vomit, no stately way to upheave in front of ones coworkers. This was about pure damage control now, in more ways than one.:: Shayne: Response Thoran: Response PNPC Charlotte Farnsworth as simmed by Lt. Cmdr. Nate Wilmer Helm Officer USS Blackwell (NCC-58999) E239107NW0
  11. ((Corridor - Deck 2, USS Blackwell)) ::With their team assembled, it was time to track down the telepathic affliction spreading aboard the Blackwell and drive it away. But before they began, there was a matter of disclosure to take care of. It was better to get it out of the way at the start than after her symptoms chose to resurface.:: G’Renn: Commander ::Turning to look at R’Ven:: It would also be neglectful on my part if I did not mention that the symptoms have begun to affect me as well. R’Ven: I have been told that different individuals have been presenting the illness in different ways. How is your presenting. G’Renn: I have found myself losing discretion over which thoughts I share with others. Counselor Sindrana and I shared unintended telepathic communication multiple times earlier today in sickbay. I also suffered one episode where I temporarily lost consciousness and, “relived” a memory, for want of a better term. ::The vivid recall of Jolash’s birthday had not just been a dream or a reflection. She had been there in her mind. Every last detail, not a single sensory input left out. The slight creak of the floor in her room had been right where it should have been and the cool desert dawn before the sun had risen made her feel homesick. She had been back home that day, somehow. She just couldn’t easily explain it.:: R’Ven: I understand. I thank you for sharing. We will do everything we can to help you. Have you found that it is impacting your ability to work? G’Renn: I… ::momentary pause of reflection:: I do not believe it has impacted my ability to perform research as of yet. Surgery or other sensitive procedures where each millisecond counts might be another matter. ::She looked over at Stennes as he began speaking, wondering what he thought of what all he had seen. Did he still trust her judgement? Did he still find her competent of working with them after the events between her and Sindrana?:: Stennes: My observation of Dr. G’Renn indicated that despite a momentary disorientation during her... episode... she maintained control over her judgment and her faculties throughout. In my opinion, she is fit for duty. ::So, he trusted her for the time being. That was excellent and immediately boosted Anath’s confidence. The momentary rush of confidence was quickly pushed aside when Captain Zaekia arrived behind them, causing Anath to involuntarily straighten up slightly at the sight of their commanding officer.:: R’Ven: ::turning to face Zaekia:: Greetings Captain. I have been discussing with Doctor G’Renn and Counselor Zaekia the effect that this virus has had on Doctor’s G’Renn. ::slight tilt of the head:: You are telepathic. Have you noticed any adverse effects? Zaekia: Response ::As the captain spoke Anath began compiling mental notes of what he said, comparing it to what other telepaths had reported in the interviews with Stennes, Sindrana, and Ilsam. There would be time to write it all down later. For the moment, her brain was just as reliable as any PADD.:: G’Renn: oO Well, my brain’s reliable assuming this… affliction isn’t slowly eating away at it Oo Stennes: We have collected a great deal of data from our current patients. It may take some time to isolate the cause, but I wonder if we could identify some chemical or biological or physiological changes that accompany one of these telepathic episodes. G’Renn: I would like to run some more detailed neural scans in the lab. If possible, for a patient currently expressing symptoms. It could be possible that the biological component is most visible or only enters an active phase when symptoms are active. ::Anath didn’t envy the idea of scanning and testing disoriented, confused, or possibly terrified patients eager only to return to duty or otherwise regain control of their abilities. Were she in the same position she probably wouldn’t enjoy being a lab rat for the medical department either, but if they didn’t run their tests they couldn’t get a cure for their patients any faster.:: Zaekia/R’Ven: Responses Stennes: If we knew what happens in the body when an episode begins, we might be able to predict when one is coming. Then–with all due respect, of course, Captain–the medical computer could monitor whoever is in command, and should that person suffer an episode, it could transfer command codes automatically to the highest ranking officer who is not afflicted. It’s not a cure, but at least it is a backup plan to keep the ship safe. Zaekia/R’Ven: Responses ::Before any safety procedures could be planned out and put in place, they would need to find a way to predict the somewhat episodic symptoms before they struck. As the group neared the turbolift, she began working on the logistics of research aloud.:: G’Renn: We will need to decide on which patients to bring to the research lab from the recovery areas on Deck 20. Perhaps looking over the interviews conducted by our counselors would- ::There was little warning, nothing to indicate any meaningful change. No key to predicting the onset of symptoms. One moment she was there in the real world with the captain, R’Ven, and Stennes. The next moment, she was again swept from the present and taken back through her memories.:: ((Flashback - Outside the First City, Qo’noS - April 2nd, 2382)) ::According to the indicator along the bottom of her datapad, there were only a few pages left in the current chapter of her biology textbook. It was fascinating, moving past the basic building blocks of cells and proteins to the more complex topics of biological systems and specialized tissues. If she could, Anath would have been more than happy to read until it was time for bed. Her uncle O’Trel, however, had very different plans.:: O’Trel: Anath, the front door is this way. There is a Bat’leth tournament being held in the Old Quarter shortly, and we don’t want to be late! ::The sword fight wasn’t something that Anath was particularly eager to see. As a very young doctor in training, all she could think of when she saw such tournaments were all the health risks involved. She never understood what enjoyment anyone could get out of watching them.:: G’Renn: Is there, any way I could remain here father? Bat’leth tournaments are not enjoyable for me, and I find them painful to watch. The casual disregard for safety is terrifying. Did you know that a T’Gha maneuver of sufficient strength could… O’Trel: Listen to her, brother! A true warrior would worry not about the possibility of minor injury. A Klingon instead focuses on honing their skills so they need not worry about being struck by their enemy. You aren’t raising two Klingons. You’re raising a Klingon ::shifting his gaze from Jolash to Anath:: and a Vulcan! T’Shol: Anath may not have the same respect for our culture as- ::No, that was not the answer either. She was Klingon! It was in her blood, in her heart, in all the stories she had heard as a child. She bolted up from the chair she had been reading in and dropped the datapad before retorting.:: G’Renn: But I do respect Klingon culture! I love the poems and operas! I could spend hours working with the artisans in one of the workshops or listening to the songs of great battles of the past. O’Trel: Yes, you can stand our customs like any other alien. You can appreciate the beauty of our arts but you don’t have the heart to embrace the warrior spirit! G’Renn: So I have to embrace senseless violence to be a true Klingon in your eyes! I cannot show my honor through healing and using my mind as warriors use muscle? Go see two sentient beings with so much potential bludgeon each other to near-death with swords for no reason if you want! I will stay here and continue reading so that I can improve myself, and enrich my spirit through healing. ::A silence filled the foyer, as everyone processed what she had said. Anath looked to her father for support, only to see T’Shol looking conflicted. There was no way that he was doubting her, was there? O’Trel on the other hand only scoffed and continued along towards the front door with his back to her. For him the conversation was over.:: O’Trel: Stay here if you wish. ::Pausing in front of the door:: Perhaps when you are a doctor you can remove those forehead ridges. They’re unbecoming on a Vulcan. ((End flashback)) ::She immediately noticed that the group had gotten a few paces ahead while her feet remained rooted to the floor right where they were when the memory struck her. She couldn’t believe it! Again, she was again taking leave of reality to instead wallow in unpleasant memories of the past. As she realized what had just happened she squeezed down on the PADDs in her hand, surprising herself by not breaking the screen of the topmost PADD with the force of her grip.:: R’Ven: Response ::Such a display in front of the captain and her research teammates was the last thing she needed. But it was unavoidable, clearly something had distracted her. Simply lying wouldn’t do her any good, and at least she could take comfort in the fact that this time she had remained upright and not had a second close encounter with the floor.:: G’Renn: I just suffered another temporary lapse into memory. How long was I non-responsive? Zaekia/R’Ven/Stennes: Response(s)? ::While glancing at Zaekia, Anath felt a momentary panic. What about his telepathy? There were so many unknowns in the situation, too many unanswered questions about the specifics of the affliction. How much control did each telepath still have? What were the flashbacks to memories long past? Could other telepaths sense such memories? It made her both somewhat self-conscious, and more importantly much more eager to find whatever was causing all the problems and wipe it out.:: G’Renn: If such lapses continue, we may have a promising candidate for help in tracing a physiological cause for these symptoms. Zaekia/R’Ven/Stennes: Response(s)? Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Anath G'Renn Medical Officer, USS Blackwell - Andaris Task Force A239402AG0
  12. ((Shuttlebay, USS Atlantis)) :: They were checking the code, and at least that put some of their doubts at ease. But they were certainly not a welcoming public, and Olin was a bit frustrated. They openly distrusted his demonstration about the robotic... instinct. Maybe if they were able to run their own experiments with the robots... He looked at the shuttle. There was, of course, their best model. It was technically impressive and totally multipurpose. But a bit too alien for some. :: Olin: Ah, of course. There is a new model I haven't shown you yet. Udro: New model? How does it differ from the ones we have seen? Olin: Not much in the programming, but a lot in structure. This one is multipurpose. Udro: If we may have a quick moment to discuss, we would be happy to see your final product. :: His eyes reduced to a slit, considering whether they had already reached a decision and were just planning how to tell him. But there was little he could do about it either way. :: Olin: Of course, of course. I will get the new model, meanwhile. :: Leaving them to conspire in a small group, Olin went to the shuttle. Labetha was there, playing with something, and Olin doubted for a second. Labetha was an autistic child (well, she was 17, not a child anymore, but anyway). But she was a robotics genius, and had come a great part in designing their current line of robots. Showing her work always had a great impact. But it was a wild card. Let's first show them the base for her work, and then we'll see. :: :: He grabbed a big box and downloaded it from the shuttle. Then two similar ones, and finally a small suitcase, with three spherical components, the size of his fist, together with a PADD for control. Once on the shuttlebay, he opened one of the boxes, which completely retracted. Inside, there was a dense grey mass. It was called Biomechanical Multipurpose Gel. Some company workers called it goo, but the marketing department had made it very clear that nickname had to be kept in private. With it ready, he just waited for the team to approach. :: Udro: What is it? Pond: Wow, that looks cool. Olin: Thanks. I present you the Biomechanical Multipurpose Gel. By itself, it's just a gel with components similar to the ones from the other robots. They have no processors, so don't interpret it as a nanite mass. :: He pulled one of the balls from the suitcase, and showed it to them. :: Olin: Now, this is the processor. You can check the programming later. And with this PADD you can change the basic functions. :: He left the sphere on the gel, and pressed a few commands on the PADD. The ball slowly sank into the gel, and the gel got lit in a brownish pulsating color, looking as a brownish core inside a grey net. After he pressed another command, the gel started to take a humanoid form, one similar to the security robot he had previously showed them. :: Udro: Astounding .. so it could be any of the robots you have shown us? Olin: Correct. Although we do sell this model, most buyers are looking for a particular use. In this case, our other models are more specialized, and cheaper. But we use the multipurpose gel to design them, and then when we see a model we consider practical, we redesign it with more standard pieces. :: He looked at the rest of the group, in case they had further questions. :: Pond: How does it work? Olin: Think of the components of the gel as cells. They can be repurposed on need for specialized functions. So, for example, the ocular components are now working as a receptors, while the external layer has become a hardened surface. Feel free to touch it to check for consistency. Oswald: Interesting, very interesting. Olin: Right now, it has the same programming the security model has. That's the point, using this, you can change the programming in the central processor. :: He pointed at the gel humanoid and entered a few commands. The gel compacted again into a box, and then a small portion of it climbed out in the form of the spiderlike engineering bots. :: Olin: Of course, they are not limited to the current models. And, as this model shows, they are not limited in size. They can walk out leaving part of the element behind. Or several materials can be joined to form a larger one. :: After a few commands, the spider itself walked to the other two boxes, opening them. Then it returned to the central box, which started to crawl towards the other two. Once they were touching each other, the whole mass started to take form. :: Udro: What are the limits of this ability? Olin: Of course, that would depend on your needs. We usually sell one of these boxes, which contains a hundred... litres. A bit over the average volume of a humanoid. :: He struggled for a second trying to remember the right units the Federation used, according to the information he had on them. :: Olin: A single processor can seamlessly control around five hundred litres. We generally don't recommend building robots larger than that, but the programming to do so does exist, and it allows the linking of several processor spheres. Pond: Could we do whatever we want with that gel? Olin: We also sell the tools for limited... reprogramming. That is, to use the gel to design new robots. I am not an expert on that subject, but they basically allow for direct sculpting and programming by assigned body parts. I can ready a demonstration if needed. :: That was the very reason why he took Labetha with him. On that aspect, she was an artist. But maybe they were impressed with what they had seen. :: Udro: Your demonstration thus far speaks for itself. Froid Olin - Taventa Robotics Representative as simmed by Lieutenant E'riQ, son of Lo'PeH - HCO - USS Blackwell, Andaris Task Force PotW facilitator D238701JV0
  13. round 19 Cmdr Brell & Family - Time for talk

    ((Brell’s Quarters, Deck 4, USS Blackwell)) ::Brell moaned, crawling on all fours as Renu and Linalu yelled. He rounded the corner moaning again like a six legged flen beast, Renu and Linalu riding on his back. He had pushed all the the furniture back to ensure there would be nothing to fall on. He had also stacked every pillow in the place around the edges. He would have felt better doing this on the holodeck where child safety protocols could be set to sense a falling toddler and alter the density of the floor to create a softer landing. But the twins were having fun and Blackwell was a giant sickbay so he was not too worried.:: ::Another lap around the room was followed by a fourth and, he knew he needed to stop soon The kids were getting a bit too excited and on top of unintentionally kicking him in his behind a few times, he knew the chance of one of them falling grew the more caught up in their excitement they became. Rounding over to the pillows he had left on the ground for just this purpose he tilted the two off each taking the chance to jump off dad without getting into to trouble with a squeal of glee.:: :: He rolled onto his back and was immediately greeted with Renu bouncing onto his stomach, followed moments later by his sister. The twins had apparently thought now it was the time to jump on his front side like they had on his back.:: Renu: Jumpee jumpee Linalu: Jump jumpee jump ::It was awfully cute but was already beginning to hurt, and the Bolian commander was still sore from his sparring match the other day with Ensign Thoran. He was also still a bit full from his rather excessive meal from the day before that he had enjoyed when dining out with G’Renn and Morin. He sat up causing a howl of disapproval from one of the twins, who seemed fully intent on more rough housing.:: Brell: Come now, let’s read a story. Linalu: Gre-ean fishy GRE-een fishy! Renu: Gree fishh .. gree fish! Brell: Alright, The Green Fish tales it is. ::He reached over to the table that had been pushed up to the couch, and grabbed a large screened PADD. The twins were ready once he had it in his hand snuggled up close to him so they could see the pictures move as he read to them. A few shouts of fishy fishy came as he brought up the collection of tales of the green fish and its adventures in the deep sea. This one was about how the green fish met its friends blue fish and yellow fish. The little ones hung on every word he spoke and animation on the screen, he gave each a fish slightly different voice none sounding overly masculine or feminine in keeping with the spirit of the book. He had the thought of sharing the Bolian series with Renos to read to nir child as so many stories featured gendered characters, ne might appreciate one that did not. He kept on reading as the twins clapped and enjoyed the story.:: ::The three Bolians walked down the hall of the Blackwell still discussing the topic at hand. Morin felt as if his peacekeeping efforts were about to come crashing down. Lyldra and Hars were intent on talking to Brell, and Brell had expressed his wish to hear them even if all they wanted to do was scream at him. They were in fact pass that however the sting of of Brell’s deceit wound linger for sometime, years most likely.:: Lyldra: You will be fine with them for awhile it could be hours. Morin: Yeah, I’ll take them to the arboretum here on Blackwell, then maybe around the public sector a bit. Hars: If they end up getting too sleepy you are voice authorized to enter our dwelling on the station. ::He hoped the youth would have known that already but felt the need to say it aloud.:: We can call you when we are on our way. ::He gave Hars a nod, Brell’s spouses had been close with him and he felt as if he were more than just a part of just their extended family by marriage. Just as Brell was more than his uncle and had been a father to him, Lyldra and Hars had become as close as co-parents to him as well. Lyldra having had lost one of her parents, connected with him on a level most could not. While, Hars had inspired in him a sense of wonder at the life in the seas and of study in general. The strife between the three of them had affected the youth quite a bit, his picture of perfect family obtainable and pure, had been cracked by the harshness of reality.:: Morin: Alright. I’ll keep that in mind. ::He stopped.:: We are here. ::Lyldra reached out and rang the chime. Morin lived here so it felt odd to stand at the door. Brell and the twins being inside and ringing a bell made all three of them feel odd, but it also did not feel right to just barge in.:: ::Brell looked up and frowned, he hated having to split time with the twins between himself and his spouses. He missed seeing them at any time and waking up with his family all around, but he also felt like he deserved the pain of being without them. He deserved whatever they deemed he should suffer. The story had just finished and they had been looking for which to pick next, he knew they would get distracted by the arrival of Lyldra or Hars to not notice the adults being uncomfortable.:: Brell: Enter. ::Lyldra stepped in first, followed by Hars, and Morin. The twins unsteadily stood up and ran over to the door. Seeing them there reading a story book made Lyldra feel a pang of sorrow for what all of this must be doing to Brell as much as she was on another level pleased to see him suffer. That level was small, and now she wanted more to begin to put the pieces of their family trust back together. Doing his part in things Morin dropped to his knees to talk to the twins on their level.:: Morin: Hey there kiddies let's go to the arboretum and play in the grass! Linalu: Areee.bore..et..tum..tum Renu: Tum..tum..tum. ::The cadet corralled the toddlers over to their double seater stroller and saw to getting them into it. Brell stood up with a bit of a grunt and a guilty look on his face. He could not help it, though he was ready to hear what they wanted to tell him. None talked as Morin got Linalu and Renu ready and then out of the door. They all simply looked at eachother for a few long moments. Then Lyldra and Hars moved into embrace their co-husband, like that they stayed for awhile while hurt their love was still there shaken but not broken. When they parted all three needed to wipe their eyes free of tears, and it was Hars that chose to break the silence.:: Hars: We won't be able to trust you implicitly for a long time … I don’t know how long. Brell: I know. Lyldra: We also miss you, and do not wish for the twins to know the pain we feel being apart, and angry. I am ready see you again and share our bed … but we must discuss things a bit more. Hars: I will start with the questions, why after Turisan II when it was just a kiss did you not tell us then? … That was before the human asked you lie to us, so why had we not already heard something? ::Hars had honed in on something that had occurred to Brell during one of the millions of times he had gone over all the ways he could have avoided this situation in his head. Things on the industrial era planet were not simple, the crew of the Darwin had been under considerable stress having to live there disguised as locals. Stennes had been the person he talked to then, as both had trouble sleeping. He would have normally spoken to his spouses about his fears, but at that time they had their own worries brought on from being on that planet and it all seemed bigger than it really was. He did not know what to say, and was pained by the flaring of emotion in his co-husband’s voice.:: Brell: I .. I do not have a good answer. I do not know why I did not then is what I mean. Hars: No taboo had yet been committed, even if you had slept with him. What I can not get over is that is when it was all on you … no human ideals making you keep things to yourselves. Between that kiss and going back to the darwin, to the next time you and the human spoke you did not say anything to us .. for what .. thrill of an illicit affair … fun … shame .. well what was it? ::Brell was on the spot Hars had not spoken to him since the night he told them both about the affair and having kept it secret. He saw why, his co-husband was a scientist and looked at the world around him as such. He had picked apart the whole situation and looked at it logically through a filter of their culture. He had found the timefarme where Brell could not share the blame of his lie with anyone but himself.:: Brell: I was not sure of anything then yet. Things on the surface had been so odd and when we got back everything else moved so fast. Lyldra: Still every night when we all gathered in bed you did not tell us, we heard about everything else, but this part of your life .. ::loudly.:: A area where our concern should be the most important mind you! ::Regaining composure.:: We should have been the ones you talked to. Brell: I know, and I wish I had ..I know I should have and once the lie had begun I felt trapped by it. Hars: ::Mockingly.:: So we should be pleased that you have told us at all. ::Lyldra shot him a look that said that is not helping anything. She did however agree with the comment somewhat. Brell felt horrible, but knew this had to happen if they any hope of returning to how things once were.:: Brell: I can not undo what I did, I can only throw myself on your mercy and beg forgiveness. I felt the pain of keeping this from you both for some time .. it was not better or worse either as I knew I was only making things worse. .. I felt trapped in the lie, and yes shamed by it at the same time. Hars: That I do believe. Now tell us about it all as if we were not being kept in the dark, the good times and this pain of keeping it secret. ::Brell did as he was told and retold the entire tale of events from the first kiss on newgrange eve still disguised as a turisan right up unto how they broke things off for good the last time the counselor was on the Darwin. He told them about the meetups they had shared, on the holodeck a few nights in Stennes’ quarters, of lunches spent flirting and of how it felt to come home and look them in faces afterwards. Of how he had pleaded with Didrik to talk to them and of how when he agreed to do so the human had been recalled to earth making things prolonged once more. Lyldra and Hars told him of how they were made to feel foolish thinking his sometime aloof behavior was due the incident with the borg girl or from when had had been captured and tortured by a rogue consortium goon. How they let those things blind them to his guilt that they should have seen. They then began talking about how to move forward even if it seemed a distant possibility right now.::