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Jarred Thoran

Captains Council observer
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Jarred Thoran last won the day on May 15

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About Jarred Thoran

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    Roleplaying Groupie
  • Birthday August 3

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    Andaris Task Force
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    First Officer
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    Training Team Member
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    Germany
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    Male
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    Cycling, reading, console & PC gaming, Tae Kwon Do, dancing, history, spending time with my daughter

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  1. Jarred Thoran

    Unknown - Where We Find Hell

    @Kali Nicholotti This was breathtakingly beautiful!!! ((Space and Time)) ::Trapped within the tendrils of concepts that could only be moderately understood, existed reality. What was and what wasn’t found itself cornered on the edge of an acuminous blade, dancing amid the recitation of facts spoke in mendacity. Statements made to persist would always fall haphazardly on the side of history, while history itself found its place within the ever encroaching Cimmerian shade.:: ::Life, and death, were one and the same, neither surpassing or superior to the other. In the growing darkness, perpetually expanding, life made its futile attempts at gaining footholds, and yet, contrary to its ignorant declarations, it did not endure. All that was, all that endured, was annihilation, as the darkness of the universe closed in and suffocated all that it surrounded.:: ::And in time, all things that were, all things that would be, sought absolution.:: :: But the Terrans, and their allies, were inconversant with the very universe they traversed and professed to understand. Though they could see into the inky blackness, they did not know her, nor could they. They did not recognize the persistent tightening of the noose, nor, in their self-proclaimed enlightenment, did they fathom the nefarious malignance that was inherent within the very absence of all. Nothing was intrinsically auspicious as the creatures believed. And it would be that belief that would guide them all to a decisively premature eradication.:: :: Contrary to the purported cogitations of those same creatures, who, in reality, knew far less than their egotistical minds asserted, space was far from the vacuous vacuity it was postulated to be. No, it was saturated with things and concepts that the fracturable beings could never hope to comprehend. Waves of information traversed vast distances in ways yet to be discovered by the simple minds housed within the metallic structures that carried them, against which those very swells broke as if they had found their way to some cosmic beach. With the compounded force of the universe's lackadaisical stance and the pernicious tendencies of the dark nonexistence, it reverberated through the so-called marvel of Terran engineering at incomprehensible speeds.:: ::Simple minds would never cognize the unbounded knowledge held within the copious darkness, despite their incessant attempts to do just that. The edge of a perpetual ledge would be all that the infinitesimal creatures would ever be able to see, with everything else concealed within the lightlessness of an abyss so immense that only itself knew its bounds.:: ::If there was a hell, it would be found within the obscurity of the nothingness. Shrouded in a treacherous elegance, dotted with a million pin[...]s of white-hot light, death would continue to entice life into its unyielding grasp. And life, incognizant of the indiscriminance of it all, would linger on the very threshold of decimation, seeking to enter into the depths of their own demise.:: ::Eventually, the crepuscular waves would rise to meet those who remained. Then, in contempt of everything that life had cretinously professed, only darkness would remain.:: ::The time was coming, evidenced by the first waves to meet the darkened rock on which multiple timelines would inevitably intersect. As life meddled, so too did the ever constricting helix of desolation. In one solidified moment everything changed.:: ::In one solidified moment, the nothingness once again stole the surface for its own. Life, having just encroached on this beach within the cosmic sea, was once again gone, leaving only emptiness, and two silently floating starships, behind.:: TBC The Abyss of Space As simmed by: Fleet Captain Kalianna Nicholotti Ambassador at Large USS Blackwell Andaris Task Force R238605KN0
  2. @Mirra Ezo @Theo Whittaker Leaving me here, wiping away a tear. ((USS Blackwell - Guest Quarters)) ::Commander Theo Whittaker was not man given over easily to nerves. He had a steel in him that meant he could face most situations head on without hesitation or fear. It was this quality, he supposed, that had led from the engine rooms of starships to their bridges.:: ::Which was why, as he approached the currently occupied guest quarters, it was so unusual for him to feel a sense of trepidation. A little voice in his head began to tell him to turn around and leave. As he reached forward to tap the doorbell, he could feel his body screaming to run. And yet he moved not an inch other than with his elongated finger.:: ::The wait for a response was an eternity all of its own as seconds stretched out into infinities all of their own. He began to wonder if she would ever answer.:: ::And then she did.:: Ezo: ::shakily:: Enter. ::The doors hissed quietly open and Theo stepped into the modestly decorated cabin that smelled fresh and clean, like a room of a hotel somewhere on Rise or Wrigley’s Pleasure Planet. Like every other space aboard the U.S.S Blackwell (that was not a medical facility), the room was rather small and ‘cosy’- which meant Theo’s eyes found Mirra Ezo immediately.:: Ezo: ::stuttered:: H-hello...Commander. ::Once upon a time on a space station a thousand light years away, Theo and Mirra had served together and had been the closest of friends. They had survived murderous tribbles, undercover operations on drug-ravaged worlds, the hidden levels of StarBase 118, scurrilous rumours spread by a disgraced Commodore (whom Mirra may or may not have punched), warmongering renegade starship captains and a sadistic pirate out for vengeance. Whatever the universe threw at them, they swatted them.away like they were Molvanian March Flies.:: ::Then one day, out of the blue- Mirra left that space station a thousand lights from the Par’tha Expanse, with no warning other than she needed to take some time off. Theo had been bewildered and more than a little upset by his closest confidante’s abrupt departure. He had many questions and he turned detective to find her- to no avail. When Mirra Ezo did not want you to find her, then you wouldn't. He had even briefly considered employing the talents of another close friend who worked in Intelligence to find her but decided against it, knowing it would be seen as an inappropriate use of station resources.:: ::Now, here she stood- six months later, aboard his starship. Emotion welled and surged within him, fogging his mindscape, threatening to spring tears from his eyes and causing a lump in his throat. He opened his mouth before shutting it, not knowing what to say.:: ::Mirra Ezo was very rarely at a loss for words. Sometimes at a loss for polite words, but rarely without something to say. But standing in front of her was the one person she ran across galaxies with her proverbial tail tucked to avoid. She’d failed him. She’d failed all of them. Every bit of fire that made up her soul had slowly been burned out till nothing remained but embers. She didn’t ask for help, because she had no idea how. Everything she ever trusted to be true suddenly...wasn’t. She lost her spark, her edge. Dulled by the blade of the fearsome Chennel. She went to therapy, as required, but the physical damage to her shoulder was repaired long before the emotional damage. The one person who could understand and offer solace, she couldn’t turn to. She couldn’t let him know she failed.:: Ezo: ::quietly:: Please say something… ::A bit ironic for a telepath to beg for words, but Mirra never crossed that line intentionally with Theo and had no plans to start now. An errant thought here and there were the exception, especially when he was riled up about something, which was often. She began fidgeting nervously. Overwhelmed by her own mixed sense of elation and terror, she could barely sense his emotional state. But it was clear he was conflicted. Did he hate her? Would he send her as far away as his command would allow? Had he written her off as a moronic ginger haired Pakled with a sass problem?:: ::Should she say something? Attempt to explain the unexplainable? They faced down monsters of every imaginable kind together, survived heartbreaks and hangovers, broken bones and broken spirits...but when she lost her faith in who she was and what she did, she just ran. The most unforgivable of offenses. He stood stoically before her. If he could just say something, even if it was “I hate you.” She fought hard against the pull of once again running away, standing her ground with knees locked, prepared to face her fate. The tears welling up and threatening over as each silent moment stretched on was the only slip of her already shaking composure.:: ::He stepped towards her, hesitating at first. Her reappearance had opened up an old wound he had come to pretend did not exist. How could she simply leave without a parting word? Without telling a soul outside of a promptly filed leave of absence request? When Mirra vanished, he had never felt more isolated and alone- ironic when he served on a station with 300,000 souls aboard.:: ::As he took another step, he realised none of that mattered and before he knew it he had swept her up into a fierce, tight hug, eveloping her in arms. He didn’t ever want to let her go. His best friend, the better half of the coin, his person, his reality check was back in his life. And in that moment- he didn’t want to let her go. Ever.:: Whittaker: ::his voice cracked with emotion as he spoke.:: Hello you. ::He felt a tear on his cheek and he was surprised to find that he was crying.:: ::What little control she had on her emotions bolted right out the nearest airlock when his arms wrapped tightly around her. The tears began flowing like a waterfall as she buried her sopping face in the shoulder of her best friend’s uniform. It took a good few moments before Mirra was capable of intelligible speech:: Ezo: ::muffled:: I-I am s-so sorry Theo! ::mostly unintelligible squeaking:: P-please fo-forgive me. I am s-so happy t-to see you… ::Although one could argue against that considering the veritable rivers falling from her eyes at an alarming rate. Before long, she’d owe her friend a new shirt. That is, if she didn’t accidentally crack a rib from how tightly she was hugging him. Every little broken piece she’d had rattling around inside her for the better part of six months somehow began mending themselves back in their rightful places. No matter how far she’d traveled, Theo Whittaker felt just like home.:: Ezo: ::quietly:: How you must hate me... ::Despite the better angels of his nature, he broke the hug and looked at her with a smile despite his tears. He was not a man given over to overt displays of emotions- one of the lasting lessons his father had imparted- but none of that mattered. He had never been more happy to see another living being in the whole of his life. Mirra Ezo, somebody he was not sure he would ever see again, had fallen in to his world again.:: ::There was nothing but happiness and tears.:: Whittaker: ::he shook his head, wiping the salty tear from his cheek before it rolled into his mouth.:: Not one iota. None of it matters. Not right now. ::he took her hand in his.:: I’m just happy to see you in one piece. ::If something had happened to her on Arndall… whatever was she doing there?... he would never have been able to forgive himself. He would have cracked the whole world in two to avenge her. Caraadians, Valcarians and Kam’Jahtae be damned. He would have hunted those responsible to through space and time with a fury like no other.:: ::He didn’t hate her. Not one bit. He was clearly a far better person than she was. Not that this wasn’t already a known fact, but it still nearly took her breath with shock. Her red, blotchy face and swollen eyes did very little to hide the relief that washed through her.:: Ezo: ::small wry smile:: You’re a commander of a Federation Starship. ::squeezing his hands tightly:: I knew you were destined for greatness. ::He made a tutting sound with his mouth and rolled his eyes in a display of mock annoyance. It was an old and familiar routine, one that they had perfected between them over the course of three years. How quickly, after months apart and seismic changes in both of their lives- both personally and professionally- they slipped back into old habits.:: Whittaker: ::he rolled his eyes for emphasis as he spoke.:: You know how much I loathe you being correct. Ezo: ::grinning broadly:: How many times must I tell you, I am always correct and you should stop doubting me…? ::Suddenly her face fell. She realized that her entire plan over the last few months had been nothing but doubt.:: Theo...I… ::He held up a hand and shook his head. There would, of course, have to be difficult questions answered in the coming days, weeks or maybe even months- about her sudden flight from StarBase 118, about her silence for so many months…- but he did not want to tackle them now. Not when the storm of conflicted emotion had- for him at least- subsided. All he wanted in that moment was to be with his friend.:: Whittaker: Not now, Mirra. Not today. ::despite his interjection, he was smiling warmly at her.:: I just want to be here with you. All the difficult conversations can wait. We all make mistakes. ::And he should know better than anyone. He had taken the assignment to the Blackwell without discussing it first with Taelon, the Chief Science Officer of StarBase 118 with whom he had been in a complicated…. something with. He had effectively ended their burgeoning relationship without warning. All because he had been fleeing from the return of Baylen Anders. Theo might have prided himself on his professionalism as a Starfleet officer, but he could take no such satisfaction from his personal life.:: Ezo: ::raising an eyebrow:: Not that I am not...elated at your forgiveness...I must say I am a bit…::shuddered breath:: I mean... Whittaker: People in glass houses should never throw stones. At least that was what my mother used to say to my father when I was younger. ::he reached out and wiped a tear from Mirra’s cheek. A soft chuckle escaped his lips.:: Come on now, let's not cry anymore. ::he said as his voice threatened to crack under the emotions palpable in the room.::::he nodded, approvingly.:: I'm descended from British aristocracy- we don't do emotion. ::Despite the wellspring of emotion that had engulfed the room, Theo had an idea- one that made him smirk as he looked at the Betazoid.:: Whittaker: But we do one thing very well. ::At that point, the weight of a neutron star smack dab in the middle of her thoracic cavity seemed to lighten significantly. She had been truly terrified. And now…? Well now she was home. In a sense. Something she hadn’t felt in well over 8 months. Forgoing any lingering dignity, she used the shoulder of her ill-fitting uniform to ebb the tide of her sobbing face.:: Ezo: And that would be….? ::His eyes shimmered mischievously as he stepped across the guest quarters towards the replicator. He looked at Mirra with a matching grin before he turned to the invaluable device and spoke.:: Whittaker: Two Manhattan Cosmopolitans with orange peel twists in stemmed martini glasses. ::Mirra nearly felt the tears returning in full force, but instead, she snorted in a failed attempt to stifle her laughter.:: Ezo: ::smirking playfully:: Did the executive council know of your addiction to cosmopolitans before they handed you the reigns of this Starship…? ::The device whirred to life, materialising the classic beverage on the small pad. He lifted the crystal cut glassware by the stem. Returning to Mirra, he handed her one and raised his glass in a traditional gesture. Though she would have to face some difficult questions about her activities on Arndall in time, Theo wanted her to know that he would stay by her side as much as he could for as long as he could. They shared many hardships in the three years they had been friends and they had always come through to the other side and shared a drink together. This would be no different.:: Whittaker: To our friendship, Mirra. May it never, ever end. Ezo: ::raising her glass in return:: And, if it should ever end, may we haunt the ship together! ::grinning::
  3. @Mirra Ezo keeping up diplomatic relations. ((Syrandio - Outside Syrandio Medical Centre )) ::A distraction. No big flashes of light or heavily armed backup. But they had to do something, keep them looking in their direction long enough to let Lieutenant Pran and Lieutenant Pandorn set the charges.:: Ezo: So, what do you have in mind? Open a channel in the guise of negotiating for the injured...? Adyr: Somehow I just don’t see them caring. ::That was unfortunately accurate. In fact, if they brought up the injured, they could just turn them into a liability. No slaver wants broken property.:: Ezo: Well, despite the outfit, I'm not currently Starfleet. Just a civilian. I might make an easier target, so to speak. No one knows to come looking for me? Adyr: I think not, and as a former Starfleet Officer – I assume – you’ll know why. ::So...they would have to make due with staying inside. Just her...a comm...and the angry army in front of them. oO I'm going to get us killed, aren't I...? Oo:: Ezo: I bet I can keep him talking. Long enough for the charges to be set. Adyr: Then lets talk, but we aren’t going outside. ::Mirra approached the front of the vessel at Commander Adyr's gesture. The haze had cleared somewhat, enough to give view to the waiting enemy outside the suddenly thin feeling hull.:: Ezo: ::taking a deep breath:: Keep them talking, right? Adyr: =/\=You're on.=/\= ::And just like that, it was live. Commander Adyr stepped behind her. She wasn't sure if it was as a show of support, or another deversion tactic. It could be the Commander just couldn't stand to look in the beady eyes of their so-called new owners. Not that Mirra blamed her in the least. Ezo: ::clearing her throat politely:: =/\= Hello? Am I speaking with the bu- ::pausing:: man in charge....? =/\= Rsssarkar: =/\=I will not warn you again, primitive creatures. You will not resist and you will comply as property should do.=/\= Ezo: =/\=Ah, yes. About that, you see, I am quite a stickler for protocol, as one must be in this day and age. I'm afraid I can't just turn myself over without substantiating your claim of ownership. Quite a bother, I realize, but I must ask on what authority you are acting under? =/\= ::oO Gods of useless buracracy please protect us...Oo:: Adyr: =/\=Response? =/\= (If any) Rsssarkar: =/\=Everything on this world, including it's primitive mammalian populations are now my property and the property of the Kam'Jahtae Empire. There is no point in resistance. Surrender to the inevitable.=/\= :: Kam'Jahtae? They were a long forgotten, albeit bloody, stain on history. From eons ago. It wasn't possible these were actual Kam'Jahtae...was it? Her wide eyes turned momentarily towards Commander Adyr in shock. Well, whomever they were, she had her mission.:: Ezo: ::confusion colored her tone:: =/\= Kam'Jahtae...? I'm not quite familiar with that particular branch of government. Did you just make that up? You see, I cannot allow myself to become a slave under such...flimsy claims such as that. After all, what would my ancestors think...? Do you have the proper documentation of ownership of this planet and it's inhabitants? Adyr: =/\=Response? =/\= (If any) ::Well, that did something. Previously, he seemed distracted, if not a little put off by the delay. Now, his focus was entirely on her. The jolt of hostility hit her like a scorching beam. She fought against the urge to take a step back in reaction. Instead, she braced herself.:: Rsssarkar :: =/\=Perhaps I will keep you alive until you learn your place. The Kam'Jahtae once ruled an installer concordium the likes of which you have never seen before. All we have lost will be restored.=/\= ::Alright. That wasn't the first, or probably the last time an enemy had suggested she learn her place. Or offered in so many words to put her there. Back on familiar territory. oO Please please don't let me get us killed....Oo:: Ezo: ::clearing her throat again with the utmost politeness:: =/\= My apologies Mr...ah, well, I am afraid I didn't catch your name...? ::silence met her, she was pushing against already borrowed time:: No matter, there will be plenty of time for pleasantries once we get this matter of ownership sorted. Now, back to the beginning, you say you ruled this planet previously? Rsssarkar/Adyr: =/\=Response? =/\= Ezo: =/\= Ah, yes, likes of which I haven't seen, I do remember that part. Can we back up to the organization again? Kamble-Jantey was it? oO By the Great Fire..please let the charges be ready...Oo =/\= Rsssarkar/Adyr: =/\=Response? =/\= Ezo: =/\= Oh! Do forgive me::She turned to Adyr, looking almost shameful, as if she'd just been caught in a cultural [...] Pas. Exaggeratedly gesturing towards her mouth:: It appears it's more of a long "ah" sound, Kam'Jahtae..::turning back:: Did I get it right that time? =/\= Rsssarkar/Adyr: =/\=Response? =/\= Ezo: =/\= Yes I am quite familiar with your terms. I however, would like to make sure I have taken the proper time to become completely informed with my surroundings and situations. You see, my mother always expressed to me the utmost importance of making a proper acquaintance, first impressions being so important. ::Actually, her mother had often told her to smile and keep her mouth shut most of the time. Apparently commenting on the number of chin hairs upon her great aunt's face was considered rude.:: Rsssarkar/Adyr: =/\=Response? =/\= ----------------------------------------- Lt. Commander Mirra Ezo, MD Diplomatic Officer USS Blackwell C239205ME0
  4. @Na'Lae Mandak getting herself into a bit of a situation, all because of a sneeze... (( Somewhere in Navatria, Arndall)) :: There had been an enormous hiccup in the plan thus far. What started as a simple medevac, had turned into far more than a cluster. There were many casualties now, including those of the Revan. Lae was among them. Matthew had been unconscious, Dairro injured as well. The doctor seemed to be one of the more better off folks. The others were worse for wear. Not to mention the actual casevacs they had been sent to retrieve in the first place. For now, they tended to their wounds, and made ready for what lay ahead for them, on the hostile planet. :: :: The crew had been tending to their wounds, and getting their wits about them, when a loud shriek had been heard from outside the downed shuttle. It wasn't terran... But is was organic. Ferentis had instinctively gone on the defensive, wanting to know what it was they were on about now. But he was injured, and worse than what he let on. :: G’Renn: Ferentis, what’s wrong with your arm? Ferentis: It’s nothing at all. I’m fine. Mandak: You should sit... How're are you gonna be any sort of tough guy if you're hurt? :: Lae stood near the man, trying to be supportive, but in reality, she wished he'd take a seat. :: Thoran: Ms Mandak....is right. G’Renn: If you think I’m about to let you go out there without least checking your injuries, you may want to think again. Mandak: Just let her look mate... Ferentis: [Tag] Thoran: Mr Ferentis, …. I insist…. you allow….the doctor….to check….you over. Ferentis: [Tag] :: For now, he seemed to give into the Commander and his physician. Probably a better move than he thought. :: G’Renn: Now, let’s take a look… ::That was when she saw the bone sticking out of his wrist.:: We’ll need to set that bone back in place. Hold still for a moment. :: Lae listened to the snap crackle and pop of the doctor working. It looked to be a bad break of the man's arm. She worked quickly though, setting things straight. Lae had readied her firearm by then, and began to work on getting the comms system in some sort of order, even just to send a distress signal. Letting the Blackwell know what had happened would more than likely be something the Commander wished to do. She wanted to be ready for the order. She quit fiddling with things when the Commander spoke again, amidst his own wounds. :: Thoran: Doctor, what is…. the status of…. the Valcarian patients? G’Renn: I will check on them right away. Thoran: Okay. Let me know…. once you’ve done…. that. Mr Ferentis…. being our resident engineer…. I want you to…. start working on restoring…. power. Ms Mandak... :: Just as she piped up, she could hear whatever it was outside had drawn closer, and had friends. She was awaiting the order... :: Thoran: Ms Mandak…. take Dairro and Matthew….have a quick scout outside..... Assess…. the situation. Keep comlines open. Mandak: Aye sir... :: She nodded to the two, who had armed themselves as well. :: Let's get out there... :: She moved with the small team to the main entry in the rear of the craft, which was slightly open, just enough for them to slip out. There was smoke about... dust. It was tough to see anything really. Lae took up a starting position on her knee in front of the door, while the other two fanned out, but stayed close. There was a well defined trench in which the runabout sat. She could see now the extent of the damage to the Revan. That's when she heard the shriek. She turned her head suddenly to her left, looking straight at... something... The others followed suit. Lae gave a signal to stay low. :: :: It was large... whatever it was... and there were two other smaller things with it. It bore armor... dull and gray... with some sort of headress. Or at least the big one had it. The other two seemed scraggly, seemed to follow the big one about. It was bipedal, and hulking, with large claws, or hands or something. She could see a weapon of some sort as well, but couldn't make it out that well. The dim light of evening was creeping in now, adding to the difficulty in seeing anything at all. :: Mandak: Mandak to Commander Thoran... :: in a low voice. :: Thoran: [tag] Mandak: A small group. One large one. Insectoid. Bipedal. Armed. Thoran: [Tag] Mandak: They're moving away from us for the moment... :: She could see out of the corner of her eye, Matthew was holding in a sneeze... oO No... No no no...Oo The sneeze exited his face... And so did his color. He immediately clamped down on his mouth. She looked to the thing, which had now turned about, and was looking right in their direction. She could see it in full view now. Large, with smaller arms in other places, and a definitely insectoid set of DNA. It was moving towards them quickly now, clearly having spotted them. It let out another shriek, getting the attention of the smaller broodlings that had accompanied it. The thing raised a rifle, and began to fire right at them. :: Mandak: Gotta go... we've got incoming... :: She hit the charging unit on the phase rifle. The comm closed. :: Thoran: [Tag] Mandak: FIRE! :: The phaser blasts flew from Dairro, not so much from Matthew, who sort of slunk down in the dirt. She raised up to a crouch from her knees, and sent phaser pulses down range at the smaller units first, striking one of them square in its toothy maw. It landed hard and slid a good six feet. The second one met a similar fate. The larger one... That was a different story. :: :: She sent pulses in its direction, with the energy striking it's armor, but leaving no real damage save for a singe mark here and there. She couldn't tell if it was shielded, or if it was just the armor plating it wore. Either way, they were going to have to come up with a plan. The thing took up a position near the runabout, and kept the aggression up. :: Mandak: Commander! :: Over her commbadge :: Thoran: [Tag] Mandak: One baddie left... He's shielded. Under fire. Need assistance! Thoran / Anyone: [Tag] TBC/TAG -- Ensign Na'Lae Mandak Helm Officer USS Blackwell Andaris Task Force
  5. @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
  6. ((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
  7. Jarred Thoran

    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
  8. (( 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
  9. ((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
  10. @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
  11. ((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.::
  12. @KriJBa @Randal Shayne you guys, made me have feels
  13. Jarred Thoran

    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
  14. 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
  15. ((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
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