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Jarred Thoran

Captains Council member
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Everything posted by Jarred Thoran

  1. Welcome to our little corner of the internet @Jay Lee . Glad to have you with us. Training is an absolute blast and look forward to seeing you on the flippity flip
  2. Absolutely love the feigning the character does! Great job @Kiliak Jo ((en route to Deep Space 26, low orbit over Paldor II)) Absentmindedly ignoring the pratter of the jarheads and sacrificial security drones crowding the small shuttle space, Perkins set his finely-tuned wonder of a mind to the task at hand. How was he going to singlehandedly rescue this station and the planet below from imminent disaster? The uncooperative nature of the Atlantis company of misfits only made clear his burden as the lone champion called to serve in this dark hour. He stared out the window and mused, clasping his hands together wisely, bringing the tips of his index fingers together just beneath his nose to indicate his status of deep contemplation. Just as he was gathering together the last details of a perfect plan, he was snapped from this reverie at the mention of weapons fire. Serala: Remember, check your fire this is a high collateral engagement zone. If it's not shooting at you, don't shoot at it. Not without confirmation. Perkins: Yes, please double-check your "trigger happiness." I have many friends here. They soon disembarked the shuttle and boarded the station. At the sight of the familiar Chon architecture, Perkins felt overwhelmed with relief to finally be back home, at last, he had escaped from the clutches of these Atlantean nincompoops. Though it was true that they desperately needed his help, he would not go back if they dragged him kicking and screaming. Solana: Contact, four o'clock. Looks like a dozen all scrambling to get those support craft off the deck. I don't see any Valcarians. oO These idiots can't even keep proper time! It's still morning by the standard Federation clock. Simply unbelievable. Oo Kiax: I wouldn’t be surprised if they were controlling more critical areas of the station. Operations, Engineering, Fusion Cores, Auxiliary Fire Control, Central Damage Control… With direct access to the computer core I can probably get us a significant foothold. Perkins: That can be arranged. I can direct you through some of the more basic processes, get you a username and a password, before we ultimately get to the more complex stuff at which point I will naturally take- Calasio: =/\= Welcome to the newly acquired Imperial Relief Station Alpha-One. =/\= oO Excuse me? Oo Kiax: =/\= You mean the Federation Starbase Deep Space Twenty-Six? =/\= oO Hmpfh. Indeed. Oo Calasio: =/\= I wish to speak to the one in charge of your team. =/\= Perkins: =/\= Yes of course, I am-- =/\= Serala: =/\= This is Lieutenant Commander Serala of the Federation Starship Atlantis. I am in command of this team. =/\= oO Rude! Fine. I'll let her believe she's in charge if its so important to her. Oo Calasio: =/\= This is Commander Yanek Calasio of the Imperial Navy. I am sure you are aware of the situation we all find ourselves in. I wish to make an arrangement. =/\= Serala: =/\= Well, Commander. I’m actually not fully aware of the situation. I know this station is plummeting to the planet below it and unless we can find a way to stop it, everyone onboard, not to mention millions on the planet, will be killed. But I have no idea what has been happening here for the last several months. Without a debriefing, I am afraid I am at a disadvantage in any sort of bargaining or decisions to make agreements. Of course, we did bring a substantial combat force and I would image that some of the Starfleet personnel that didn’t make it off are still here somewhere. I could always fight my way to them, join forces, then retake the station from you. =/\= Calasio: =/\= Now, Commander...you are in no real position to do anything but listen to me. You have just arrived. I have been here for weeks. Do you really think we have not created a battlefield prepared to our advantage? I assure you this is not a fight you want to wage. The station is already falling apart. On top of that, we've rigged bulkheads with explosives, set snares throughout the access tubes, prepared tricks and traps level by level. I've read up on your ship, the Atlantis. I know your Captain Brell is a man of peace. Of discourse. He would listen. I suggest you do the same... =/\= Perkins: =/\= Ha! Brell isn't even- =/\= Serala: =/\= Captain Brell is not here. I am. And I do things my way. I will answer to Captain Brell later, if needs be. If he wanted a peaceful resolution, he should have come himself instead of sending his Chief Security and Tactical Officer. =/\= oO Ahh ha, I see. The Romulan wants to keep my presence here covert, her secret Ace in the Hole. The Ringer. The Showstopper. Got it. All right, okay, I'll play along with your little gambit, Miss Siracha. Oo Serala: =/\= Still, there is something to be said for a peaceful solution. Fighting our way through could be costly. You haven’t held your position as long as you have by being unprepared. So, what is your proposal. =/\= Calasio: =/\= It’s quite simple, really. This station is plummeting to its doom. We have seized control of this station at quite at high cost and have no intention of losing it now. I propose to allow you and your ship to assist with evacuating all non-Valcarian personnel from the station. You can use this landing bay for those purposes. We will also coordinate with Atlantis to find a way to stop the station from hitting the planet below, possibly even relocate away from the planet a distance. Once everyone is cleared out and the station is safe, we will take full control of the station and the space around it. Assuming the station doesn’t get destroyed before then, I estimate you should be able to get everyone off in about 36 hours time. Anyone remaining onboard after that forfeits their life and will become subjects of the Empire. =/\= Perkins mind began to wander. oO Say, where did that infernal marine with the attitude problem get off to? Oo Serala: =/\= A very well thought out request, Commander. I have a request of my own first. I need to speak to the Starfleet Officer in charge here on the station. I need to get a sitrep before I can make any decisions which might affect them. I am sure you can understand that? =/\= Calasio: =/\= Your request is understandable, Commander. However, we have no direct communications established with the Starfleet personnel. In fact, station communications are down, which is why I have had to rig this form of communication for us. Still, I will try to get a message through and have them come down to you. =/\= Siracha spoke quietly into her commset, then pointed now to another marine, the big one who had yelled at the problematic one earlier. Perkins didn't understand why she was pointing. Was his fly unzipped or something? He held up his hands to indicate the ineffectiveness of her communication. She pointed again, more pointedly, as the others gathered behind the marine. Perkins narrowed his eyes. Did she want him to keep an eye on this goon to make sure he didn't shoot any bystanders? Yes, that must be it. Good call. Perkins tailed the big monkey, ready to disarm him in a flash if the day's duties came to that. Serala: =/\= Commander Perkins. You know this station better than anyone here. I want you on lead. Get us to Operations. We’re taking that back one way or another. That might give us a better position to bargain from. =/\= Perkins: =/\= Ah, I see. Of course, of course. I will lead the way. ::pushing himself to the fore of the others:: Company, aa-t-tention! Follow me! And-a march one two hut one two, that's it, lively now! =/\= (( Short timeskip )) oO Wait. No, it's the other way. Oo Hardly his fault. He was only rarely down in these sections. He turned around and doubled back, offering the others his charming smile as they continued to follow his lead. This sublevel was really more of a Lieutenant Junior kind of working environment. And all these corridors look the same anyways. Soon they reached a corner, and Perkins was sure that this time it would lead them into Operations. Birmor: Halt. Who goes there? Serala: Lieutenant Commander Serala, Federation Starship Atlantis. Birmor: Sorry friend. This area is off limits to non Valcarians. Serala: We’re here with permission of Commander Calasio. Birmor: Really? Serala: We have some things to discuss and the form of communication we were using was insufficient. Since we’re here under a truce, perhaps you would be kind enough to escort us to him so we can speak in person? Birmor: Sorry Lieutenant Commander Serala of the Federation Starship Atlantis. Standing orders are to only allow Valcarians past this point. ::She made an obvious effort to look at the group of Starfleet Officers.:: And you don’t much look like Valcarians. Serala: And would he be less pleased if his favorite :: quickly checking her rank :: corporal failed to let us past and it resulted in a full-scale invasion from our ship? Just because of a misunderstanding? Wouldn’t it be better to take us to him and let him decide what to do with us? Birmor: Excuse me a moment. ::he momentarily vanished:: Perkins: Do you want me to talk to him? I'm great with people. Serala: Birmor: Well Lieutenant Commander Serala of the Federation Starship Atlantis, it seems you have been granted passage. oO Hmpfh! Could at least get her name right. I'll let it slide though, in the name of diplomacy. Oo Perkins: Took you long enough. Let's head out, troops. McKnight: Let's move. Serala / Toh’jak: Response Birmor: It was my absolute pleasure. Commander Calasio is down in the Engineering Section on Level 46. As this used to be your station, I’m sure you know the way. Perkins: Er, yes of course. That's, uhm, fastest way is those stairs back there, or...? Serala / Toh’jak: Response Out of nowhere, bolts of blaster fire. One blast struck Perkins right in his good shoulder. He went down, collapsing into a crumpled pile immediately, a tactic to shield himself from possible continued fire as his eyes wetted with sudden tears. McKnight: AMBUSH! oO Is this it? Am I going to die? Here? Just in my moment of liberation? Who will help all these people if I must perish now? Oo Birmor: STAND DOWN! CEASE FIRE. CEASE FIRE. Perkins: It's a trick! I'm hit! They shot me! Ambush! Betrayal! Shoot back, you worthless imbeciles! McKnight: Cease fire! Cease fire! Secure the area! Serala / Toh’jak: Response Clutching his wound, likely a mortal wound, Perkins heard a disembodied voice nearby. His vision was blurry. Was it... his father? The voice of God? McKnight: You alright, Commander? Perkins: I'm so sorry. ::coughing:: I don't know if I'll make it. You must go on... without me... ---------------------------------------------- Lt. Commander Perkins Engineer at Large Deep Space 26 A239509KJ0 ---------------------------------------------- courtesy of ---------------------------------------------- Lieutenant Kiliak Jo Asst. Chief Engineer USS Atlantis A239509KJ0 -----------------------------------------------
  3. Nothing quite like reading about the daily grind of an Operations Officer. Great work @Esa_Darkkdust ((Bridge, Deck 1, USS Atlantis)) ((Final Day of Shore Leave)) Even as the excitement, heartbreak, arguments and joys of Shore Leave began to draw to a close, there was still a reasonable level of ‘holiday buzz’ around the crew, even as they prepared to depart for their impending assignment. Nobody was really any the wiser about what Starfleet had in store for the intrepid crew of Atlantis, except maybe the Intelligence folks, who had probably intercepted every transmission between Starfleet and the Captain by now, despite it being Esa’s job to route incoming signals around the ship. After her conversation with Ishka a few days ago, and no doubt her subsequent conversation with Alex, Esa had found herself posted to the Alpha shift every day for the next month. It was pleasant to not have to constantly swap between the three. Keeping to a routine and forcing her body clock into a normal pattern would certainly do her mental health a world of good. 0700 to 1500 every day, without fail. Esa took pride in the fact that she had been put on the Alpha shift. It made her feel that little bit closer to being chief, without actually holding the title. It also served to keep the cacophony of personalities in her head in check, as the day shift was notoriously busy with so many departments requesting operational support from Esa and the team. She had, much to her dismay, started her day by receiving a request for a janitorial team to make their way to the bathrooms on Deck Ten. The communication had gone something along the lines of a foul stench emanating from one of the pair toward the fore of the ship, just behind the torpedo launch bay. Naturally, this meant a whole world of problems for Esa, who had to report the issue to Engineering, as there was likely going to be fallout in the waste processing and water treatment areas as well. It simply wouldn’t do to have a sewage explosion so close to their departure date. Fortunately, only a mere half-hour later, the janitorial staff had reported that it was simply a blocked lavatory, and that the issue would be fixed as soon as the air purifiers had a chance to work their magic. This would, however, prove to be the most interesting thing that would happen for the next few hours. With many of the ship’s departments working to finalise their prep work before departure, the number of physically actionable requests dwindled steadily toward the middle of the morning, with the majority of requests around this time relating to power management, and system upgrades. The main computer core had to be taken offline for a short while (much to the annoyance of Engineering, as their usually quite responsive secondary engineering core had become bombarded with requests), as Esa had received yet another new LCARS revision from Starfleet. This one was only minor in terms of feature updates, with the bulk of updated material pertaining to bug fixes and UI improvements. Esa was unsure how people on later shifts would react when the layout of their console had changed while they had been sleeping, but it was nothing the seasoned computer engineer couldn’t handle, and the update went by smoothly and quickly. Not only this, but holodeck time requests were still coming in to be allocated amongst the crew, with much of Holodeck 1’s timetable for the day booked up wall to wall; The Marines were using their holodeck down on deck 13 for training scenarios today, so Esa had been unable to assign any overspill from the leisure use decks on deck 6 to it. While all this was happening, Stellar Cartography were fighting it out with Astrometrics over use of the sensor suites, as both were trying to update their star charts and navigational data at the same time; and Evie was asking for yet more power to be routed to Science Lab 01, no doubt to facilitate the development of her AI into the Electronic and Cyberwarfare suites. The proposals that she had looked at seemed to be solid, which wasn’t a surprise, seeing as the woman held four degrees in the subject, but she had advised her to hold off any further integration with the ship until she had had a chance to review the specs with the Captain. Alas, he had been far too busy meeting the other heads of departments to deal with her at the time, so the request had gone unanswered. Esa didn’t mind, but Evie had given her a substantial dressing down for her incompetency and lack of effort. Evie’s words had been quite harsh, but her bark was far worse than her bite, and the threat of having an official complaint written up about Esa had gone unactioned. A few times the mundane routine interactions with the ship had been interrupted by new crewmembers transferring aboard, having finished their meetings with the Captain and XO, now coming straight to Esa for their new quarters assignments. Having never been an enlisted, Esa sometimes wondered what it was like meeting a new roommate for the first time. This was quickly followed by a request to have someone from Logistics help move their belongings from the cargo area on deck 8 up to their new homes. A few departing officers and non-coms were also making several requests of the logistics team, who were obviously in high demand today. Around the middle of the day, mere minutes before Esa had planned to take a quick break to grab some lunch, the quartermaster from the armoury on deck 4 had reported a series of missing explosive charges from one of their storage lockers, and was demanding an explanation. Esa had to explain to them a number of times that they had been taken by the marines for the boarding drill, and were due to be returned at some point later today. Evidently, with the shakeup in the Tactical/Security departments, a few memos had missed their intended recipients. She was still kicking herself for not managing the communications better surrounding the drill, but the thing had happened so quickly that she had little time to inform the right people of the prep work. No doubt Esa would be apologising to Maddi for that one when she got home later tonight. Finally, a good ten minutes of explaining later, Esa managed to flag down a passing colleague to man her post while she grabbed a sandwich. That was the one downside to working the Ops station; The need for it to be constantly manned meant there was very little in the way of flexibility when one needed to take a comfort break. After a quick 30 minute lunch break, Esa was back on the bridge, this time dealing with the request from engineering to divert power away from the main navigational deflector so that they could perform a diagnostic and alignment pass. Naturally, this took priority over the science labs use time, so she had assigned them the secondary deflector while the engineering crews worked. She was met with a less than favourable response to this, as one of the labs had been using it to project a tightly focussed energy beam onto some nearby graviton particles as part of an experiment they were undertaking. Naturally, the need to get the ship ready for departure took priority, and Esa apologised for spoiling their results. She always took the blame for scheduling errors, though most of the time it wasn’t her fault. People liked to have someone to complain to, or about, and as she was the one making the decisions it made sense for it to be her. The remaining two hours of her shift were spent overseeing the delivery of a new spare warp core into the storage tube that ran between decks 10 and 15. The freighter captain had offered no explanation as to why they were receiving a new core, only that a request had come in and his job was to deliver it, not ask questions. Esa had little choice but to agree, instead wondering why the Captain, or Engineering, for that matter, would have put a request in for such a thing. What did their assignment hold in store for them that necessitated such a piece of equipment? Once the delivery and install had been finalised, Esa handed over to Fiorr, who was on the Beta shift for the next few days, and bid him farewell. While on duty, she had managed to slot some R&R time in on Holodeck Two for herself, and planned to spend the rest of the afternoon giving Ishka’s spa recommendations a whirl, before dinner with Maddi. Travelling via her quarters to get dressed, she flopped down on the bed for a moment to deflate, letting her arm hang down to pet Lyra, who was a welcome presence in what had been a rather busy, stressful day. Her small face looked up at Esa, her dark eyes regarding the Trill. She offered a small bark to draw Esa’s attention whose response was to invite her up for a cuddle. Esa: You have no idea what a day I’ve had today. You know, I envy you sometimes, Lyra. Not a care in the world… Lyra let out a small woof in response, seemingly in agreement. Esa laughed slightly and replaced Lyra on the floor so that she could change. Lieutenant Esa Kiax Comm/Ops Officer USS Atlantis – NCC 74682 Community History Team Member A239511ED0
  4. A wonderful reunion - truly a joy to read from @Sal Taybrim & @Theo Whittaker ((Ready Room - Deck One - USS Columbia)) ((Time Index: Two days after Columbia leaves the Spiral Nebula)) ::From the porthole in his ready room, Theo watched the Columbia slipping into orbit of Delta Vega I, slowly gently rolling into place until the orb of the red-brown planet appeared as a slim crescent across the bottom of the narrow window. He sipped his chamomile tea as he felt the tension of the past day evaporating from his body. Kaironn was in custody, the ancient Tkon relics were back in the hands of those who would not abuse them (although the question of where they would be studied- aboard Columbia or on Dehner Base) remained ‘up in the air’) and he had reached an understanding with Professor Sellards- albeit a tenuous one. Yet he had not been able to relax until that moment.:: ::He could, in short, rest easy again.:: Pran: =/\= Bridge to Captain Whittaker. We have entered orbit of Delta Vega I.=/\= ::came the voice of the Security Officer. =/\=And I also have Fleet Captain Taybrim on subspace.=/\= ::That brought a warm smile to Theo’s face and he turned from the porthole and set the tea cup down on his desk. Word had reached him courtesy of a subspace data burst from Starfleet Command that his former Captain, mentor and close friend had recieved a well deserved (and much overdue, in Theo’s eyes) promotion to Fleet Captain. Even after a year, Theo missed the Betazoid commanding officer of StarBase 118. Given Columbia’s distant assignment, the chances for the two of them to talk were limited. But this was one conversation that he would have moved heaven and earth to have.:: Whittaker: =/\= Thank you, Lieutenant. =/\= ::he replied, sinking in to the comfortable, high backed chair behind the desk. =/\= Transfer the Fleet Captain through to my ready room.=/\= Pran: =/\= Aye sir. =/\= :: she closed the channel at the same time that his desktop monitor activated, the symbol of Starfleet’s Communications Research Division displayed up on it.:: ::The symbol was very quickly replaced by the smiling visage, ginger hair and twinkling black eyes of a man that Theo respected as one of the fleet’s greatest captains and loved like a brother. His smile, already wide, transformed into a proud grin as his eyes fell on the thin gold bar below the four rank pips attached to the red collar of his uniform.:: Whittaker: Hello Sal! ::he said, his joy and pride drenching his every word.:: Congratulations! Taybrim: =/\= Hello Theo! =/\= ::Sal has that same open, warm smile that Theo remembered:: Whittaker: ::with a snicker, he could not help but add:: Does this mean Mirra can punch you in the face now? ::Two years before Mirra- never one to hold back with her opinion- had struck Commodore Allan Kinney, the corrupt Sector Commander who had been spreading disinformation against the crew of StarBase 118. He had been in the pocket of the resurgent Orion Syndicate who were attempting to gain a foothold in the Trinity Sector and once uncovered, Mirra had taken matters into her own hand. It had become something of a local legend in that part of space- not to mention a running joke between Taybrim, Theo and his Diplomatic Officer.:: Taybrim: ::Sal clicked his tongue at Whittaker:: =/\= I’m not a Commodore… yet =/\= ::Dark eyes sparkled, he was amused by that.:: =/\= But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t visit! =/\= Whittaker: If only I could, old friend. Columbia is exploring the very edge of the galaxy and we don’t have a transport ship due to visit Dehner Base for two weeks I’m afraid! We are even too far out to use real-time holo-communication technology. ::he said ruefully, remembering how Captain Brell of the Atlantis had utilised it to great effect for his own promotion party.:: So I’m afraid, good old fashioned subspace communications will have to suffice for now. ::Sal gave a soft smile. He understood the limitations - which was regrettable and yet realistic. Then again he had largely eschewed a party as well. He had attended many ostentatious parties and despite the fact that he was a social butterfly, Sal Taybrim was also not an attention-seeking personality. A small formal affair was enough.:: Taybrim: =/\= Subspace communication works fine. Though I still think you should come back and pay a visit. Not for an occasion, just for old times sake. =/\= ::He smiled gently, light sparkling in his dark eyes.:: Whittaker: I promise that the next time I take shore leave- forced or voluntarily- I will pay you visit on my way to wherever I end up. ::he chuckled.:: How is the station doing these days? Scuttlebutt around the fleet is that you got an invitation to go targ hunting? ::he had a hard time picturing Sal Taybrim hunting the small Klingon beasties.:: Was Admiral Hauke punishing you? ::he added with a smirk.:: Taybrim: =/\= Oh, no. We were targ hunting by invitation. =/\= ::he smiled mysteriously:: =/\= You know all that fancy diplomatic stuff including gagh and bloodwine and targs. It was invigorating!=/\= Whittaker: I’ve seen images of targ hunts in books before and… the smell alone…. ::he said with a mock shiver.:: Maybe I transferred elsewhere at the right time. ::his eyes twinkled with mirth.:: Taybrim: =/\= Well, yes it did take a few sonic showers to get the smell of wet targ out. But with enough bloodwine you start thinking that eau de targ is a good combination!=/\= ::he grinned merrily.:: Whittaker: You know that bloodwine and I do not get along! ::this time the shiver was authentic. StarBase 118 had a Klingon drinking establishment known as The Bat’leth and there had been one rather heavy night there…… he didn’t like to think about it.:: Taybrim: =/\= You know scuttlebutt around the fleet says you are dealing with more pirates…=/\= ::Not just pirates. More pirates.:: ::Theo sat back in his chair and nodded. It had only been a few days since the situation with Kaironn had come to its conclusion and while life aboard Columbia had all but returned to normal, the events of New Years Day were still fresh in everyone’s minds.:: Whittaker: Sometimes, Sal, I fear that my lot in life is to spend my days rounding up marauding criminals. ::beat.:: The scuttlebutt is correct, although there were nowhere near the level of Chennel, thank goodness. They stole some archeological samples from Dehner Base and ambushed us. Took out a fair few of our systems before we could respond. ::That got the ginger Betazoid’s brows perked. Archaeological samples? Who stole Archaeological samples? That was something he thought of as quite the mystery to be solved.:: Taybrim: =/\= What happened after you engaged? =/\= Whittaker: We managed to retrieve the samples after we chased them to a nearby Nebula and we’ve now got their Captain in our brig. ::it felt good to be able to say that.:: All is well that ends well, no? Taybrim: =/\= Hopefully! =/\= ::he said optimistically:: =/\= My curious question would be - why did they want archaeological samples? Whittaker: They were intending to sell them on the local black market, I imagine. ::He worded himself carefully, not entirely sure whether he should divulge the nature of Professor Jev’s relics. He knew that Sal would not go off shouting his mouth about the discovery of several artefacts from one of the galaxy’s most advanced races- but had still yet to hear from Starfleet Command about how they wanted to proceed with them. If they wanted to suppress their true nature (Theo could not blame them given how fearsome Tkon technology had been)- then he did not want to get on their bad side by detailing everything to Sal.:: Taybrim: =/\= Curious, indeed. =/\= ::he nodded, considering the information:: =/\= Maybe I’m paranoid because of that big imposing intel tower in my attic. =/\= ::he took the opportunity to laugh a little at himself. He wasn’t by nature a paranoid person, but he never did trust criminals - especially after Chennel.:: ::He smiled at that, thinking about how Aitas- 118’s current Chief of Intelligence had managed to integrate the Intelligence Tower into the daily life of the station, rather than remaining hidden in shadows. Of course, operational security was a necessity and those not cleared to enter the tower did not gain access but the Tower worked much closer with Ops than ever before.:: Whittaker: Aitas is not that bad. ::he chuckled.:: How is the station? Any big developments? Is Mrs. Anders still prowling about? ::he suppressed a shiver at the memory of the terrifying woman who had almost become his mother-in-law. Taybrim: =/\= Oh, not too much has changed =/\= ::he chuckled:: =/\= Taelon returned to us… after a sticky trip through time. El-Aurians… =/\= ::he shook his head:: ::Theo straightened in his chair at that little morsel of information. He and Taelon had been almost involved prior to his assignment to the Blackwell, although it had ended prematurely- not to mention poorly, as Theo had no idea how to broach the subject.:: Whittaker: Oh... Taybrim: ::Carefully, speaking gently:: =/\= He has a daughter now… =/\= Whittaker: ::he blinked several times before responding.:: Oh… ::he repeated.:: I did not see that coming. ::he shook his head.:: H-How is he….? ::he almost did not want to know.:: Taybrim: =/\=He is OK. Surprisingly good for living on a Klingon ship for a decade.=/\= ::Sal’s tone said there was more to that story, but it was more in the sense that it was likely better said face to face with strong drinks. Which was a luxury that wasn’t always available to Starfleet officers.:: ::A Klingon ship for over a decade. Theo knew there was more to the story that Sal was willing to let on, which made him wonder whether Taelon had been treated well by the Empire… he hoped that he had, but realised that it would not be as cut and dried as that.:: Whittaker: I see.. ::he said slowly.:: Send him my best when you get a moment, would you? I know that I did not treat him well after my departure from the station-, but I want nothing but the best for him and his daughter. ::he meant that- every word.:: ::Sal smiled gently at that:: Taybrim: =/\=I know, and I will tell him=/\= ::he paused and allowed the moment to linger before spekaing:: =/\= How have you been, Theo? How is the Columbia? =/\= Whittaker: There is plenty new with Columbia besides pirates.. ::he said, glad to be moving on from the topic of Taelon.:: Uprated sensors, new laboratories… she’s practically a whole new ship. She’s a testbed for the Nebula-class becoming long range exploration and reconnaissance vessels. ::beat:: No wonder they put me in the big chair, being an engineer. ::he chuckled.:: Taybrim: =/\=I’m so very glad that the Columbia is a leading ship in the fleet again=/\= ::he smiled fondly. They both had good memories of the Columbia, though the ship had always been Theo’s baby.:: Whittaker: As am I, Sal. As am I. I still have to pinch myself whenever I think that Starfleet gave her to me- but I’m sure that will pass. ::he smiled.:: Taybrim: =/\= But, more to the point, how are you, Theo? Personally how are things? How is Mirra treating you?=/\= Whittaker: I don’t think she likes the fact that she’s no longer cleared to tamper with my replicator now she is serving as a diplomat. ::he chortled at that.:: I’m doing well on the whole. I feel more comfortable in the centre seat than I ever have before- even if I could do without Professor Sellards from Dehner Base breathing fire every time we clash. ::that made his smile falter.:: But I am hopeful that we’ve reached some sort of understanding. Taybrim: =/\= Oh, really? =/\= ::he prodded gently for more information.:: ::He sat back in his chair and looked away from the screen for several seconds before he looked back at the ginger haired man on his desktop monitor.:: Whittaker: She doesn’t trust us and she kept some rather crucial information about the archeological samples hidden until one of her colleagues revealed their true nature. ::he hesitated for a moment, wondering whether he should divulge the situation with Sellards- deciding he needed to vent to a neutral party, he pressed on.:: Her uncle was involved in the Pegasus disaster and lost his life. It essentially tore her family apart and she has spent a great deal of time resenting Starfleet. We’ve clashed a number of times over operational concerns, although I’m hopeful that our encounter with the pirates has made her see that Starfleet isn’t just a group of moustache-twirling villains who operate in the shadows. Taybrim: =/\= Starfleet is a very varied organization and you have the chance to show her the very best side of it =/\= ::he said with a smile of encouragement.:: Whittaker: If she will let us. ::despite their acrimonious beginning, Theo remained hopeful that he could prove to her that Starfleet was not the organisation she thought she was. Taybrim: =/\= Of course it will take time. But if she values honestly, and steadfast support she’ll find no better crew than you and yours.=/\= Whittaker: That’s most kind of you to say so, Sal. ::he was about to reply when a message flashed up in the corner of his screen. With a frown and a sigh he realised that he was needed elsewhere and that he would have to end the call with his dear friend.:: Looks like I have a staff meeting I need to oversee. I hate to cut this short, but you know what it’s like at the top. ::he smiled at the Betazoid.:: Next time I’m back in Federation space- I’ll be dropping by to see how the old girl is doing. Take care of yourself, Sal. ::Theo leaned forward and terminated the call. For a second, he thought fondly of the man who had helped to mould him into the Captain he was. How far he had come since Sal Taybrim had lured him to the darkened engine room of the Columbia and asked him to jump off the proverbial cliff! They had been through much together and out of it had blossomed a wonderful, much cherished friendship. Theo was proud for his dear friend. Fleet Captain… nobody deserved it more.:: ::And with that moment passed, Theo got to his feet and headed to his staff meeting, and wondered what misadventures the twinkling black eyes of Sal Taybrim would find themselves in next.:: -- Captain Theo M. Whittaker Commanding Officer USS Columbia NCC 85279 ID: C239203TW0 & Fleet Captain Sal Taybrim Commanding Officer StarBase 118 Operations
  5. A huge congratulations to you both, a truly fantastic achievement
  6. Second this. I couldn't help but smile as I read it. I particularly enjoyed the last part and the introspection. It has also given me ideas.... *insert evil chuckle and hand rubbing*
  7. Bielefeld... interesting. You know i've never met anybody from Bielefeld, and i've never met anybody who has met anybody from Bielefeld. I hear the university there houses a CIA spaceship....
  8. Damn! Right in the feels @Kali Nicholotti & @Randal Shayne ((Sickbay, USS Columbia)) (Time Index: Shortly After Returning from the Planet’s Surface) ::He was haggard, and miserable, and ill, and spaced out to degree he’d not experienced since the night he’d graduated the Academy, but there were duties to attend to. It was this that allowed him to proceed from hour to hour since his most timely return to the ship. A mission as hectic and fraught as the one he’d just undertaken (and failed, by most honest recountings) would have taken the spark out of anyone, and the radiation still had yet to leave his system entirely. But the subspace information packet he’d found in his quarters upon his return made him wonder if hallucinations were joining his growing list of symptoms.:: ::Dear god, he was being transferred.:: ::His focus on the orders was kept to an absolute, so that he might not have the mental freedom to consider their implications for him down the line. He liked it here. A good ship, with a good crew, on a good mission. He trusted these people, worked with them for years in some cases. His best friends were here- and it was that, more than anything, that left him absolutely gutted. But orders were not negotiable, and though it was not a habit conducive to maintaining relationships, Shayne had a habit of going where the fleet needed him, whether he was asked or not.:: ::So, with his gear prepped, he steeled himself for the most crippling part of this effort- saying goodbye.:: ::Quietly, he approached MacKenna’s bed. He’d heard of her actions on the planet below- nothing could quite describe just how painful the thought of not being there to defend her was. With a kind smile that belayed his unhappy news, at least for the moment, he spoke, in a voice just loud enough for them both to hear.:: Shayne: It is so good to see you. How are you feeling? ::Like her normal self, Ash hadn't been paying attention to anything or anyone approaching. When she heard him, she finally looked up with a smile the likes of which hadn't graced her face since, well, she didn't know how long.:: MacKenna: A little lopsided. ::It was a joke, though she was markedly horrible at humor. She rarely shared it with anyone around her, but for whatever reason, he was different. She looked up at him, reaching with her remaining hand, wanting to feel that he was actually there. So much was running through her mind, it was hard to just let it all settle, but when she caught a glimpse of his eyes it instantly faded into the background. There was something there.:: ::But what was it...?:: ::He’d heard of her injury, but had no idea her hand was mechanical before asking about her. It was common knowledge, so he wasn’t violating any level of privacy, but it still felt intrusive. Still, upon hearing that her hand had nearly been torn off, he’d been happy to hear it was a mechanical apparatus, and not a sudden amputation.:: Shayne: Will you be alright? ::It wasn’t a question he originally wanted to ask- for if she wasn’t alright, he’d be compelled by affection and care and decency to do everything he could to alleviate her suffering. But orders wouldn’t permit him to stay long.:: MacKenna: I will be okay. They are already working on a replacement for me. ::She still couldn't really handle looking at what used to be her hand, so she didn't. Instead, she tried to delve deeper into his eyes to figure out what was really going on. And maybe it was nothing, she hoped it was nothing, given her inability to read people. But something in the back of her mind told her it wasn't. No, he had the same look in his eyes then that Radi had given her...:: ::It wasn’t fair to keep the truth from her. If he didn’t tell her now, he’d never get another chance. And from the way she was searching through him, rifling through the files of his mind with her eyes, she knew something was amiss already.:: Shayne: Ash. I’ve… been transferred.:: ::He didn’t think he’d ever referred to her by her first name, and it felt right. But it also filled him with heaviness- when would he get the opportunity to do so again?:: ::There is was. Ash was stunned, but not at the same time. Something deep inside knew that was what was coming, but the majority of her mental capacities were trying desperately to keep it from being thought of. Now that the words spilled out into the distance between them, there was no hiding from it. The worst part of it was that this was the life she had chosen.:: ::Internally, her mind began its own meltdown. She did not give her feelings easily, and she did not grow close to many people. Somehow, this man had found a way in, and quickly. It had taken her by surprise in so many ways, on so many levels, but the current had been so strong, so determined that this was the correct path to take that she’d not been able to fight it for long.:: ::A future she longed for, but would never have, flashed between thoughts of how inadequate she had to be. The universe had to see her as unworthy. Everyone left, and the changes that followed were impossible to deal with. It made her more than uncomfortable, it made her want to scream, cry, throw things, or just hide. She didn’t know how to cope. She didn’t want to cope. Her mind saw only impossibility and loss.:: ::Internally the idea of the looming loneliness festered, the meltdown gathered momentum, her insides screamed with her inability to do anything about this. Behind her pools of emerald green, tears welled up and threatened to unleash a flood. Yet, outwardly, she barely managed to hold it all together.:: ::Barely.:: MacKenna: When? ::She barely managed to get the word out and even then it sounded more like a squeak, like a forced question just to divert his attention away from the fact that she was falling apart.:: ::Shayne quite nearly shattered at that single utterance. It was so filled with hurt, with disappointment and longing and pain that he simply couldn’t process it. His empathetic nature felt like it was dissolving him whole, and there was nothing he could do. His chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself. It took about ten seconds for him to force his lips and voice to provide an answer.:: Shayne: I just found out a few hours ago. I leave today. Soon. ::A million thoughts raced through her head and she fought them all. What was the right thing to say?:: oO Don’t leave. Don’t go. Stay here, stay with me. What about the things you’ve said? The look in your eyes? The feel of your touch? What if I loved you? What if I wanted you? What will I do without you? Oo ::It wasn’t fair. He, more than anyone else, had made this feel like home. She’d not been aboard long, but his words, his actions, they had all made her feel as if she belonged right where she was.:: ::Now that would be gone.:: MacKenna: But…::The fight against her tears turned in favor of the tears. A single one escaped and rolled down her pale face.:: What about…? ::The sight of the single tear unraveled him. If his body followed the example of his mind and his heart, he would have collapsed into a puddle of sorrow and misery. He’d often seen people saying goodbye in films, in holodeck programs, and had wondered why each had been so consistently overacted. Now he knew- they weren’t overacting at all. This is how it felt to leave a soul mate, a partner, a friend. A dream. The will to get over the pain quickly faded, and he let it wash over him, years of repression leaking forth as his own tear began a downward trend.:: ::She couldn’t get the words out. Yet, at the same time, she needed to know. Had they been headed on the path she had been imagining in her mind? What would happen now? She didn’t know about them, but she wasn’t able to just turn off the feelings and the needs and the wants.:: Shayne: I have to. ::He’d wanted to say so much more, but his throat was tightening like he was suffering an allergic reaction. If he had any sort of choice, he wouldn’t be taking off now. He was happy here! Columbia was a home- his home! He knew the crew, knew the ship, saw a future to be sought after within these walls. Now all he saw was dust and broken promises, both of his making, spread eternally before him.:: ::Reaching out, with her remaining hand, she pulled herself up and to the edge of the bed. As soon as she’d gotten his hand in hers she gripped it harder than she probably should have.:: MacKenna: I don’t want to give this up. ::Whatever this was. Oh how hard it was to keep from wrapping herself up in his arms in some grand attempt to physically keep him there. It would be impossible, given her size versus his, but she certainly wanted to try. Her mind was screaming all of the reasons he should stay, but she didn’t dare want to say any of them for fear that he would either take them as her being too much, or in speaking of them they would become real.:: ::And the only other time she’d fallen for anyone, he’d been transferred and killed in combat.:: ::A shiver ran down her spine. It was like history repeating itself, only this time she had been given a small opportunity to say what she felt.:: ::But could she…?:: ::He gave a slight gasp, and he wanted to believe it was the strength of her grasp, but he knew it was the sensation of finally being wanted, and knowing that, in a few hours, he’d likely lose that sensation permanently.:: Shayne: I don’t want to either. ::Truer words had never been spoken. He had touched the face of peace, of hope, of sanity and of kindness, and it was hers, locked behind a curtain of flame red hair, held back by bright, shy eyes. He genuinely didn’t know if he had the strength to go. At this point, it almost seemed like the battle was being lost.:: MacKenna: I think… ::squeezing his hand more tightly, her voice shook enough to show how difficult all of this was for her. Still, she had to get it out.:: I think I’ve fallen for you. You can’t leave. ::As the statement was made her voice trailed off into almost a whisper. Had he heard her? And how would he take it? And where would they go from here…?:: ::Shayne died.:: ::It was as simple as that. One moment, he was a man, a Starfleet officer, a proud cog in the finest machine ever devised, and a lonely, disheartened figure, kept warm by the glow of his love for the Federation. The next moment, that man was replaced. The most important thing in his life was no longer to be found behind the helm of a starship. It was here, on this biobed, clutching his arm like a drowning angel. How could he leave this? For the first time in his entire life, he just didn’t give a damn about orders.:: ::Almost as if he was in a trance, with his free hand, he slowly reached up past his torso, up to his chest. His clammy palm gently caressed the sigil that had defined him for his entire life.:: ::He clenched it.:: ::And with one final, mighty effort, removed it from his chest.:: ::He was free. He was free now, to love this woman the way she deserved, the way they deserved. He’d not wanted to say anything, for fear of jumping the gun. But they were too close not to care for each other, to similarly handicapped to not cling to each other. Orders be damned! The scrawl of some ancient, withered admiral was all that was preventing Shayne from staying, and sharing with MacKenna the care and affection he showed to the people who mattered. The badge was off. For this moment, he was not an officer. Now he could stay with her, happily and joyfully, perhaps as a civilian, watching her increase in rank and supporting her on her journey to greatness, all the while adoring her.:: ::And then the vacuum swallowed him.:: ::Even as he watched MacKenna’s gorgeous, vulnerable, deep green eyes, he felt… wrong. Almost as if he was taking advantage of her. He knew what it was, but didn’t want to admit it. The combadge, still clutched firmly in his hand. It gave him purpose, direction, drive. Without it, he was a shell- hardly the man MacKenna had come to know.:: ::If he stayed now, he’d be a broken man- emptied and spiritless, even with such beauty by his side. Ash deserved better. She deserved someone with life!:: ::Bracing himself, and digging deep for whatever strength he had remaining, Shayne grimaced, and shoved the combadge back on, almost like he was driving a stake through his own soul. Another tear rolled down his contorted features.:: Shayne: I have to. ::He righted himself, and overshadowed her, and placed an adoring, affectionate kiss on her forehead.:: Shayne: Because I love you too. ::He gave a sharp exhale, and prayed that no one was watching them- he’d never been so vulnerable.:: Shayne: This is not the end. I promise you that. ::He could almost feel the universe itself capitulate to his decree, and he wouldn’t have accepted anything less. Now that’d he’d found joy again, nothing short of Judgement Day would keep him from the other part of his spirit.:: ::The sheer ferocity of the emotions struck her deeper than anything ever had before. She could feel it shoot through her like lightning. Words, feelings, nothing was left unsaid. Nothing was left unknown. And when the smoke had cleared it became apparent that even now, even as protocol stole him away, maybe she wasn’t alone in the wide and all encompassing darkness that was.:: ::Knowing that these moments would be all that she would have for the time until they met again, she stood in his shadow and drank it all in, committing each and every detail to memory. The feeling of strength that came from a connection deeper than words could possibly define was not something she would soon forget, or let go of.:: ::No, this would not be the end.:: MacKenna: I refuse to say goodbye. ::Her voice trembled slightly. She would not say it. No. The universe had brought them together once. The distance would only be temporary. It had to be.:: Shayne: We will see one another again. BE with one another again. If I have to swim the Empty myself, then so be it. ::Taking in the warmth of his proximity, the overly shy and normally silent red-head looked up and for a moment lost herself in his gaze. Putting every little bit of resolve behind her next words, Ash knew he would believe her. He’d have to, as she’d never been so sure of anything else in her life.:: MacKenna: I’ll be waiting for you. ::Then, she pulled him closer and kissed him, letting her actions tell him all that her words could not.:: TBC! Lieutenant Commander Ash MacKenna Chief Science Officer USS Columbia And Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne Chief Engineering Officer USS Eagle
  9. Hello and welcome @Esbrun Vardai Once you reach the rank of Lieutenant you're able to submit a request to play a second character on another ship. IC, like all Starfleet officers, that character would have gone through the academy; however you as the player won't, you just join the ship in a similar manner to how you joined the first.
  10. Hello and welcome @Reema Poq, glad to have you with us and i'm excited to see what you come up with
  11. ((OOC: This contains reference to Tatash's damaged psyche, if that is a sensitive subject please beware)) ((Laurel Clark - Atmosphere of the moon)) Duyzer: Either I had inaccurate results on the Columbia, or this magnetic interference has grown. We may be dealing with a magnitude even those pattern enhancers cannot supersede. G’Renn: Let’s hope that they do remain in working order. Tatash: Not to mention the rest of the shuttle, that's one hell of a storm. ::The looming atmosphere in front of him was certainly looking unpleasant. There was flashes of greenery under it, flashes of water, but above it all was the steady churn of a terrible looking storm syste:: Jolara: ? ::To Tatash's surprise, the storm was more bark then it was bite. The swirling masses of grey cloud caused little problems for the agile little vehicle pushing between them. He was no engineer, but there was no whine of struggle, only the sound of rain hitting the side of the Lauren Clark with a dull rumble:: G’Renn: When we arrive I want everyone to stay vigilant and keep an eye on the surroundings. Unfortunately we don’t know anything about what we’re flying into. ::Tatash nodded in response and glanced around everyone's belt, before pointing towards one of the small thumb-locked lockers underneath the couch opposite him:: Tatash: Make sure you're all armed. Something about this just doesn't sit right in my gut. ::He'd learned from early in his career, before his Starfleet one, that when something didn't feel right in that multi chambered meat-processor of his... it was usually for a good reason:: Jolara: ? Duyzer: Will do. G’Renn: Good, if we- ::A flashing light on the co-pilot’s console caught her attention:: The comms just went out. As soon as we land I want to set up the signal beacon. After we have re-established contact we can begin our search. Tatash: I'll keep you covered. ::He nodded towards the beacon. He didn't want to risk breaking what looked like quite a delicate (not to mention amazingly important) piece of equipment:: Jolara: ? ::For a second things were going smoothly, the small group performing as a cohesive unit until the almost predictable fate of a well planned team came to bear. There was a bang. A horrible sounding crash that felt like a giant hand had rapped a knuckle against the side of the craft, almost as if checking if anyone came to the door to answer it. The jolt, the suddenness of it caused his heart to almost explode out of his chest. It felt familiar, like a sickening impact he'd already felt once before. He shouldn't have suggested a shuttle, this was a damned foolish idea.:: Jolara: ? G'Renn: Report! Duyzer: It's because of the magnetic interference, we can't handle the difference in magneticity between the ship and the atmosphere. G'Renn: Does anyone have any suggestions? Duyzer: Uhm... ::he struggled to come up with a quick fix, he would rather pause time and think about this for several hours:: Now would be the time to test my mentor's theory... ::Another thud slapped against them, this time causing the Security chief to whack the back of his head against the bulkhead. His breathing was increasing rapidly, his knuckles clenching almost painfully on the straps holding him in, almost cutting the deliberately tough fabric into his palms:: Jolara: ? G'Renn: What about the warp coils in the nacelles? Couldn’t we pass a current through them like an electromagnet? Duyzer: Yes! ::shouting like it was a eureka-moment:: I'll, uhm... G’Renn: Then let’s hurry, ensign! ::She motioned to the panel next to Ensign Duyzer’s station:: The engineering access panel is right there. ::Tatash watched the Ensign moving at speed towards an access panel with widened eyes. Were they going down? Was the shuttle about to fall like a stone, even it's strong hull would never survive such an impact.Something inside him twisted, something hellish bringing a memory to the forefront. His eyes fixed ahead of him int error, unable to stop himself from bearing witness to a catastrophe:: ((Flashback - The Battle of the USS Avalon)) ::Green lances continued to spear out towards the group of fighters as they dragged them away from the Aramis's nesting place, but too many. They were drones, no question about that, their computer minds pulling maneuvers that would be considered far too risky for anything flesh and bone to be sitting in the pilots seats. Twisting and turning they dodged fire like ballet dancers avoiding the torrents of hellfire being thrown at them:: Tatash: We have to lure them towards the Albion! She can give us fire support. ::A few responses came back, garbled, no doubt those little terrors putting out some sort of ECM systems to jam communications but his intent got through, the battered fighter wing closing up and speeding towards the Albion with their pursuers in tow. Another friendly was tore up, the Peregrine tumbling over and splitting apart in a hail of Romulan energy:: Tatash: oO Come on... get the message... Oo ::Diago was thankfully quick on his trigger, the Albion letting out orange bursts of energy towards the attacking ships that did their best to adapt to the sudden new parameter being thrown at them, several exploding into blossoms of yellow before subduing into frozen shards of gas and metal. One by one their number went down, a few elated cheers coming over the comms as the electronic smokescreen surrounding the fighters started to dissipate along with their numbers. Even Tatash couldn't help but feel himself slightly relax, until that split second of relief bore a heavy price. His Valkyrie spun violently as something tore hard against the port side, what had once been a pristine wing now a twisted piece of metal. He'd been rammed, the drones apparently programmed to take every last risk when it came to ensuring victory against their designated enemy:: Computer: Warning, Port engines destroyed. Compensating. ::Slowly the ship came about, steading herself out as she limped towards the Albions perimeter, but the moment had been enough for one of the drones to deliver a firm volley against her damaged hull. Tatash flailed in his seat, thrown against the side of his [...]pit as alarms wailed on each console:: Computer: Catastrophic damage. Eject. Eject. ::His training took over, clawed hands grasping for the lever under his seat that would throw the entire [...]pit out as a makeshift lifeboat, one tug. Nothing, two tugs. Still nothing:: Computer: Ejection failure. ::His heart was pounding, the blue glow of the Albions shuttlebay painfully close as he fired up the emergency thruster, throwing him forwards towards it as he tapped on the comms system hoping to the pale goddess it still worked:: Tatash: =/\= Tatash to Albion. Mayday, Mayday. ::Nothing, whatever response had come through was distorted static blasting through his ear piece. His [...]pit was cracking, a thin spiderweb slowly erupting over what was once an impossibly strong material:: Tatash: =/\= Mayday... Computer: Warning, landing gear failure. All systems failing. ::All he could do now was hope as he continued to push towards the docking bay at speed, his scaled knuckles almost white as he did his best to assert what limited control he had on the ruined vehicle. The Albions damaged hull rushed past him as he saw the massive catching net erupting from the shuttlebay floor, he could even make out technicians running for cover as time seemed to slow down as the adrenaline pushing through him hit his peak. The nose hit the net with tremendous force, the entire fuselage crumpling down as he was thrown forward, what was a moment of reality pushed into a murky darkness:: ((End Flashback)) ::The voices around him had faded into a dull murmur, his body shook without him occupying it as the Shuttle landed itself on the ground with only a slight amount of discomfort to just about everyone else but him, too busy trapped in his own personal prison. He felt his biological fingers grasping, the fabric between them, his thumbs running over them experimenting and feeling their texture in reality. His metal ones on the other arm were alien to him, once more, but they were real. As he had been told, they were a fragment of that memory that will always remain to remind him it was in the past. Not now, although it felt like now. The bulkhead ahead of him was solid and cold. The chair under him was sturdy. It was soft, supportive, attached. Straps. The straps were tight on him. He flexed his toes, boots. Boots around his feet, grounding him. He was here, on the ground, safe. He took a brief moment to pause, almost mentally rebooting himself:: G’Renn: Is anyone seriously injured? Duyzer: Not me. Jolara: ? ::Tatash counted, slowly up to five. Each time regulating his breathing, every coping mechanism that had been pushed into him almost as a muscle memory by the almost endless counselling sessions triggering automatically as he let out the deepest exhale of all:: Tatash: I'm alright. ::he managed to stutter out, his focus shifting intently to his rifle. His weapon gave him control, it gave him power. Control was good, control was needed. With a well drilled motion he cycled the power, checked the energy cell status despite doing it several times before they had even taken off:: G’Renn: Come on, let’s get this signal beacon working. ::The door opened, and air blasted into the cramped interior almost like it was blowing away the last traces of that almost nightmare memory from his mind. He was focused, ready again. Just a shame that cold air hung heavy with natural fragrances, pleasant ones at that even despite the storm raging overhead. He swept his rifle over the ground ahead of them as the beacon was deployed, the focus down his sights keeping him locked back in the present.:: G’Renn: =/\= Doctor G’Renn to the Columbia, do you read? =/\= Thoran: =/\= Doctor, good to hear your voice. We believe we have detected some kind of artificial field, not too far from your original destination. I’d like you to investigate the area around the coordinates two-two-nine mark five. Please confirm. =/\= ::Tatash took a few steps down the loading ramp, his eyes scanning the horizon. There was nothing, no welcoming committee to meet them. Either there was no one interested in them, or they had landed undetected. Or, more ominously, they were being studied remotely:: G’Renn: =/\= Understood. We almost crashed due to a power loss on the way down, so it’s probably safer to walk if it’s close. We’ll keep you informed. =/\= Thoran: =/\= Stay safe Doctor. Columbia out. =/\= G’Renn: Everybody grab your equipment and get ready for a short hike. Those coordinates would be ::She consulted her tricorder, which could at least display a basic idea of their position. Beyond that it was almost useless.:: that way! Duyzer: Yes, it shouldn't be more than a fifteen minute hike. Tatash: Understood. I'll take point. Jolara: ? Duyzer: This planet is beautiful. ::putting up his Denobulan smile:: ::Tatash grunted at that comment as he walked slowly forward, his steps deliberate as he did his best to focus on every slight hint of motion. Even with his excellent eyesight, it would be far too easy for someone to hide virtually undetected within the foilage. But, he couldn't let the paranoia set in from his earlier incident, he had to remain focused on reality now not past.:: G'Renn/Jolara: ? Duyzer: Yes, of course! ::he quickly glanced down:: Not on sensors yet. I am wondering, a man-made field on a planet ::he pointed to all the nature around them:: this untouched? Tatash: Perfect place to hide, Ensign. Breathable air, self sustainable farming ::he nodded towards the rich ground:: and unexplored by anyone. Who would ever bother you out here? G'Renn/Jolara/Duyzer: ? ::A few more steps forward, before something caught Tatash's eye causing him to throw a hand up motioning to stop. Tricorders were one thing, but sometimes the old methods were the best. Crouching down he ran his fingers over a uniform pattern in the surface of the dirt. Grass was crushed, and again in a patterned line roughly three foot parallel:: Tatash: Tracks. Literally tracks. G'Renn/Jolara/Duyzer: ? Tatash: Whatever it was, it was fairly light. Some sort of tracked vehicle, probably lightly armored, civilian. Judging by the way the grass has been pressed, it's heading towards... whatever we are. G'Renn/Jolara/Duyzer: ? Tatash: Fresh, couple of hours maybe. ::He added, gently testing the spongyness of the grass underfoot:: G'Renn/Jolara/Duyzer: ? --- Lt. Commander Tatash Chief of Security USS Columbia C239108T10
  12. ((Diplomatic Conference Room, USS Columbia)) ::If there was one thing they got right when they redesigned and upgraded the Columbia, it was the diplomatic conference room. Spanning a space large enough for a big meeting, or a small gathering, the room was lined with transparent aluminum windows that gave an unimpeded view of the outside. Meant to provide a sense of awe, and perhaps humility, unto those who would gaze beyond the thin barrier, the view quickly enraptured her.:: ::Silence permeated the very bulkheads in the large room in which she now stood, her boot steps long halted and their echoing footfalls long faded into the chasm of isolation she’d created within. A set of blue crystalline eyes gazed into the dark abyss of space, reaching, wanting…barely touching on the tiny motes of dust that were in actuality stars burning bright millions of miles away. Finding their target, an almost unsettling purplish haze, they settled.:: ::And then her mind wandered.:: ::So still she stood that the long wisps of hair no longer fluttered around her. Draping down her back, past her waist, the obsidian locks seemed almost unreal. Had anyone walked in at that moment, they might have thought themselves approaching a statue. Yet, even as her stillness became a very part of the room she stood in, her mind flew amongst the very stars she ignored.:: ::Much of her thoughts were empty, distant like the burning balls of flame that consumed themselves and eventually became the void that they had once illuminated. They were of her first memories, drifting in space, with everything new and unlearned. Each day had been filled with a kind of wonder, like a child discovering the universe for the first time. And yet, as the days wore on, it became painfully apparent that something was missing. That pain, a deep atramentous divide, never left. Day after day she carried it with her.:: ::Day after day, she suffered.:: ::Memories were, as she’d learned, often taken for granted. As Starfleet medical poked and prodded, she uncovered the true loss. Without friends, without connections, without anyone but herself, Kali had learned how to walk again. Physically she was whole. Physically she had no trouble standing on her own two feet. In her head, however, things were anything but normal.:: ::Now, as she stood on the precipice of the edge of the galaxy, she wondered. The dark beyond was yet unknown. The barrier held within it mystery, and perhaps, something that could help her. Would it work? Would it be worth it? And would their proximity be close enough to matter?:: ::Question after question rattled off as she finally, slowly, closed her eyes.:: ::And that was the first time the image of the blade coming at her appeared. Gasping for air and falling backwards into the nearby table, Kali desperately struggled to grasp what she had just seen…:: TBC Fleet Captain Kalianna Nicholotti Federation Ambassador at Large As simmed by: Lieutenant Commander Ash MacKenna Chief Science Officer USS Columbia R238605KN0
  13. Well done for jumping in! Part of the fun is looking back on your first couple of posts and cringing But if your first post is anything like what you posted in the "Arrival" thread, i'd you're off to a good start. I also know for a fact that at the academy you'll be in capable hands
  14. Welcome aboard StarBase 118 @Lazarus Davis and @Corliss. Good to have you both here and hope you enjoy your time with us.
  15. Another outstanding sim from @Randal Shayne. I also love the exposition you add to your sims! ((Corridors of the Recreation Deck, DS26)) Shayne: It is… improving. Slowly. I… turned down the first officer position a few days ago. I think… I think that may have been a mistake. ::The wind left him with that admission, and he hung, frozen in space, waiting for the smallest breeze to push him one way or the other. He was vulnerable, judged, but he didn’t mind. It came easy. The surrender of control, though brief and frightening, was blissful. Which way would he descend, he wondered? This was a crossroads- an important one. A vital one. Clear of head, dopey of countenance, he waited for path to be chosen.:: ::When it finally arrived, the breeze was not an indistinct, lilting gust as he’d been expecting. It shocked him, and the realm his sleep-deprived mind had created, like an earthquake, gently but firmly reintroducing him to reality. The lightning bolt stunned him from within, and he returned to the present.:: ::He smiled slightly as he felt MacKenna’s urgent yet soft grasp. So here was Zeus.:: MacKenna: I… ::But why was this the result of his revelation? She seemed struck, much as he had been, and not in a way he’d witnessed before. It was not understanding, or surprise. It was a sympathetic vibration that Shayne, for the life of him, could not grasp. He wondered what he’d done, what had triggered this latest surge of feeling that he could not help but feel as well.:: MacKenna: Let’s go somewhere. ::The wistfulness was gone, the fear tran[...]ed into purpose. Shayne could only watch with enraptured fascination as this timid, quiet woman remained quintessentially herself, but now marched, infused with a purpose he was as yet unable to fathom. They were so similar- how could this elude him? What would make him do precisely those actions, feel precisely those things?:: Shayne: Lead on. ::And she did. Winding through corridors, not terribly fast, but with burning need. He could sense it, knew it utterly. And he knew also that however far they walked, their quest had just begun, and would be completed on a different plane then the one they padded down now. The corridors were livid, projected upon by her drive and his adoration, so that the soft green metal glowed with glee in Shayne’s ravenous eyes. Throughout their inspired traipse, not once- not ever- did he worry about where he was going, or where they’d end up. He trusted her, and knew her. Wherever she was… was right.:: MacKenna: I understand how you feel. I’ve been there once. But it gets better. ::How could she not? This level of awkwardness, of fear… its consequences were not unique to him. How many opportunities had MacKenna passed by, just like him? Now he understood the urgency, the need to get him to understand that she’d exhibited. But… the intensity… there was something more. Something Shayne was not gathering.:: Shayne: I trust you. But… does it? They’ll not ask me again- not if they’re in their right minds. ::Where was the vitriol? The pounding, overwhelming self-loathing that had carved itself into his mind over the past few days? Still there, he realized, hidden away, and completely overshadowed by the realization that something good- someone good- was before him. A voice in the wilderness.:: ::How young this science officer was, youthful beauty and aged, tortured reservation wrapped into one astonishing individual. Her eyes were timeless, but the more he looked, the more he desired to know. A lieutenant commander already? Astounding. Even if he did not connect with her on a spiritual level, Shayne realized he was in the presence of someone uncommonly gifted.:: MacKenna: ? ::He stared at her, before quickly diverting his gaze through sheer will. Even in his shock and amazement, her safety and comfort were foremost on his mind. He wasn’t alone. He mulled the foreign concept in his swirling brain, trying to attach it to some semblance of reality. No, not foreign. More like a friend of old, waving from the distant sand dunes that granules of time had blasted smooth.:: ::He wanted to hold her, hug her, be with her. She was perfect. It wasn’t even a product of his masculine handicap- yes, she was a stunning person in every way, but this was a purer calling. A genuine, unconditional love- the sort of love that allows you to realize there’s something worth sticking around in the world for.:: ::Gently- for he still tread carefully upon the glassy lake of her consent- he took her hand in both of his, and raised it to his chest, slowly and smoothly.:: Shayne: From the bottom of my heart, thank you. :: “For helping me. For opening yourself up to me. For sharing. For caring. For daring. For… pairing”. He thought better of voicing these silly things. She’d understand better this way, he hoped. Whatever happened now, she had a friend. And anything else she could possibly desire that was within his power to grant.:: Shayne: oO You need only give a sign. I am here for you. Oo MacKenna: ? Tag/TBC… Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne Ops Officer/ Second Officer USS Blackwell NCC 58999 G239202RS0
  16. ((Enroute to the Engineering Deck, USS Fortwith)) ((OOC - You can fit this into the timeline how ever you'd like folks, just had this fresh in my head, so I wanted to get it out there. )) :: Parsons had been a loyal officer, but perhaps even his mind had been a little warped since the beginning of all this. Mac moved quickly through the corridors that didn't have lift access, making sure to keep eyes out along the way for crew members that would need to be ready for the explosion ahead. He didn't even know if he fully trusted what was about to transpire, but they had no other choices, no other options that would even sound remotely sane or possible. He had to get to the core. oO What has gotten into him? Oo. :: :: He remembered the first time he'd brought the man aboard his ship. He remembered how green he was, and also how he had advanced through the ranks fairly swiftly. He remembered his pinning ceremony to that of a Lieutenant Junior Grade under his tutelage. He held back the smile that so often came to his face. But this time, he held his hand on his pistol, drawing it out in preparation for what was to come. The tone of the man's voice had Mac sniffing out mutiny... :: ((Engineering Section, USS Fortwith)) :: The doors to engineering slid open, squeaking as they did having been clearly damaged in the crash. The power was on, and the place was lit, but there was smoke about, and sparks now and again. Some of the uninkured crewmen were making projects of the sparks and smoke, attempting to clean what they could. He holstered his pistol for now, approaching the command and control station. Jeffrey was there. :: McMillan: I don't think the comms were working correctly Lieutenant... Parsons: No... no they worked just fine :: as he turned to face the man before him. :: McMillan: Listen, they have a plan... One that could get us home. Parsons: And you believe it right? There are Klingons onboard Mac... Klingons... McMillan: And they've proven useful thus far. Why now all of a sudden are you doubting me? Listen if you're not gonna follow orders, then I guess I'll have to do this... :: He was cut off by a punch to the throat. He fell to his knees, grasping at his neck. He looked to Parsons, who then kicked him in the face sending him backwards, striking his head hard on the floor. The man walked over to him, securing his weapon in his hand and stepping back. :: McMillan: :: With a winded, raspy voice. :: What the F*&# are you doing.... Parsons: You've been colluding all along... With the Klingons. You brought us here... You killed us REX... YOU KILLED US ALL THE MINUTE WE ENTERED THIS SYSTEM. McMillan: You don't know what you're talking about. That doesn't even make sense Jeff! Parsons: I do... And I'm not letting it go any further... Right after we attempted to get rid of the Klingon that came to Earth. We ambushed them... but somehow, we made it out alive. Somehow, even though many others gave their lives, good ole Rex made it out alive. And now we're here, with Klingons aboard trying to render aid. You're a traitor... :: He was so confused. He hadn't seen this coming at all, not even a hint of it at all. He stood for now, keeping his distance. :: McMillan: Well. Hmph. :: beat:: I guess you'll just have to take me into custody then right? :: You couldn't even touch the tension with a knife. He glared at the boy... who glared right back at him. He was swollen with pride, that he had everything all figured out. He wouldn't know the error of his ways. :: Parsons: Oh you can count on it... :: he started moving towards Rex :: :: He waited for the man to move within a foot of him while turning to place his hands behind his back. He turned suddenly and dove into the man's midsection, sending him backwards into the console. The pistol went flying to the left. Jeff returned with a series of blows to the back of the head, and a kick to the chest. Mac fell to the floor, head cloudy, face a mess... He turned his head right... oO The pistol... Oo. He lunged with every ounce he had left, grabbed the weapon, and turned it towards Parsons... He pulled the trigger, and a round flew, narrowly missing Parsons, and striking the area of the core. He recognized the green that began to spew from the coupling he'd apparently hit. Parsons was nowhere to be found. There he was again, only this time he wielded a spanner, striking Mac in the shoulder. He returned with a head butt, sending Jeff crashing to the floor. He moved to the console and opened the comm as quickly as he could :: McMillan: =/\=BRIDGE! GET READY!=/\= Bridge Folks: =/\=[Tag]=/\= McMillan: =/\= I don't have a lot of time here... There's... AAHHH.... There's plasma venting into the room! =/\= :: He turned to see the plasma spilling into the room, the coolant lines had gone, and the core was going awol at least per the console. He watched as plasma enveloped Parson, setting him ablaze and sucking the air from the room at the same time as ignition. He felt choked. He heard Jeff screaming, and watched as his skin bubbled like the crackling of a roast pig. It fell away from him and then into nothing but carbon spent along the corridor floor. He felt the heat rising... :: Bridge: [Tag] McMillan: =/\= DON'T YOU DARE RACHEL, THERE's NO TIME! I'M EJECTING the co...... Ugh..... AHHHHH..... =/\= Bridge: [Tag] McMillan =/\= Just make sure this wasn't for nothing..... =/\= He cut the comm :: :: His uniform ignited as the green plasma approached. He could feel the air within him boiling, rushing from his lungs, his legs caught fire, then his back and torso... He took his hand and put in the short code for ejection, just as his consciousness left him... :: :: The room suddenly was quiet, and rushing with wind all at once. The air was sucked from the room as the port side hatch opened, ripping the doors from their posts, sending the warp core flying through. It would eject from the side of the vessel in a smoldering heap of junk, ready to burst at the seams. The decompression seemed efficient enough to send the core some distance. :: TBC/Tags -- MSNPC Captain Rex McMillan Commanding Officer USS Fortwith NX-03 as Simmed by Lieutenant JG Na'Lae Mandak Helm Officer USS Blackwell Andaris Task Force O238901VL0
  17. I always love it when @Randal Shayne is left in charge ----------------- ((Bridge, USS Blackwell)) Whittaker: ::he looked to Shayne and spoke directly.:: Report. ::Shayne felt himself shift out of the role of commander, and into the mindset of a first officer, both relishing the relief that Whittaker’s presence afforded, and trying not to concentrate too admimently on the sudden drop in exhilaration and adrenaline. He hoped his decision to bring Whittaker back to the bridge had not interrupted anything the captain had been doing below, but Merzan’s request, the Klingon ships’ sudden movement toward the anomaly, and the other equally dangerous or problematic features of their situation left Shayne feeling as though no other choice were possible. Some part of him chafed at his cowardice- running for daddy as soon as matters got even slightly over his head. Nevertheless, Whittaker was one of the most competent officer’s he’d ever had the pleasure of working with. If anyone could take care of this, it was him. Succinctly, Shayne broke down there current dilemma.:: Shayne: Commander Walker is preparing to test a solution- I don’t pretend to understand it, but it has something to do with beaming down to the surface and attempting to rescue our people. It’s dangerous, so I figured I’d best get your approval on it. They’re on their way to the transporter room now. ::His mind raced, trying to remember that Whittaker had just arrived, and had not been party to the events of the recent past. What else was important?:: Shayne: The gik’tal has begun to move toward the rift- I’ve got Commander Ezo warning them off. Additionally, Mr. Ramirez reports that the anomaly will be closing again soon, in a matter of three hours or less. However, he believes that focusing anti-particles in to the midst of the rift might stave off that closure for a time. And, intriguingly, Commander Merzan has requested to join Walker on her escapade to the surface. ::His words, especially to an outsider who had not witnessed the exchange, sounded somewhat absurd, and so Shayne did not blame Whittaker for consulting with Jolara. It was at that moment that Shayne realized that he should have done just that. She was the counselor, after all, trained to read emotions and detect falsehoods as a secondary but important side effect of her main work. Whittaker hadn’t been on the bridge ten seconds, and already he was making Shayne feel foolish just by implementing sensible behavior. Whittaker: ::to Jolara:: Do you have any reason to suspect Merzan's motives? Jolara: ? ::Shayne’s own confidence in Merzan, and his own determination to not look like an impotent knob, had likely influenced his decision to not consult any of his other officers. He vowed to learn from his error, while still maintaining confidence in Merzan’s sincerity. He had not met a Klingon yet that lied, and he refused to believe that his first encounter with one would be with a Defense Force starship captain. Nagging doubts lingered, of course, but from what he’d seen of Merzan, and Walker, if anything poor were to happen on their little voyage, he felt it unlikely that it would stem from a betrayal on Merzan’s part.:: Whittaker: Alright. Mr. Shayne- give Commander Walker to go ahead to traverse the rift then take Ensign Ramirez, Lieutenant Mandak and Lieutenant James to deflector control to implement the ensign's idea to delay the decay of the rift. ::Shayne gave a swift nod.:: Shayne: Aye, sir. ::The first order of business was communicating Whittaker’s command to Walker, ostensibly in the transporter room at this point.:: Shayne: =/\= Shayne to Walker. The light is green. You may proceed. =/\= Walker: =/\= Will do Commander. We’ll be back soon. =/\= ::He had faith that Walker’s statement was true, but he couldn’t help but pray all the same. He liked this pink-haired commander, and though he regretted the loss of any Starfleet officer most deeply, it would likely be ever so slightly more painful if Walker were to not return. She had such a spark of life, and a love for the same. And, of course, a pregnant wife complicated the mix greatly. Suddenly, he wondered if he should request to take Walker’s place. Shayne was fairly confident that he could handle Merzan’s brusque brutality. But he certainly didn’t have the technical abilities, despite his status as Operations Officer. This was only proven by the fact that he still did not comprehend entirely her plan.:: ::They all had their assigned duties. His were waiting for him in Deflector Control.:: Shayne: On me, folks. ::Shayne made for the turbolift, and could hear the subtle scuffling as the other three individuals moved to follow him.:: Whittaker: Lieutenant Drass, keep monitoring the situation from up here. Ensign Leath, start scanning for anything that might give us a clue as to who is responsible for the creation of this rift. ::From the beginning, the readings had been strangely… formulaic. Orderly, in a way. The idea that it was an artificial creation had lingered in Shayne’s mind throughout this affair. Whittaker’s words now seemed to confirm that perspective. Whatever they’d found, he hoped it would cast more light on their problems.:: Drass/Leath: ? Mandak: And here we go... ::The turbolift doors shut before him, and the quartet plummeted into the bowels of the Blackwell. :: ((Deflector Control, USS Blackwell)) ::Shayne hated the Blackwell’s bridge, mostly because it was a preposterously small affair, deeply insufficient for the volume of people needed within it. When he’d served aboard the Apollo-A with Nicholotti, he’d be astonished by the sheer size of the Odyssey class control center. A transporter room in the back?! Multi-tiered seating? It looked more like a conference room. In his career, he’s luxuriated in the unnecessarily spacious, and groaned in the unreasonably cramped. Now, as he beheld Deflector Control, and how it was not too much smaller than the bridge he’d just exited, he finally resolved to talk to Whittaker at their next refit stop. Perhaps they might be able to scrounge up a larger bridge module for the Blackwell. It was worth a shot, anyway. He put those thoughts aside as Mandak spoke.:: Mandak: So... What now? ::Once again, he was entering a situation that demanded everything but his expertise, or so it felt. He thought himself rather fluent in engineer-speak, but Walker’s plan, and now Ramirez’s idea, eluded his grasp.:: ::Fortunately for the second officer, help was not long in coming.:: Ramirez: Uhmm… Lt. James, you are an engineer, right? ::A good question. He was aware that James was Walker’s wife, but beyond that (and a fleeting understanding of her skill set) Shayne knew virtually nothing about the pregnant officer.:: James: Yes. That’s right. Ramirez: Good. What I need from you is to configure the Deflector to produce the chroniton anti-particles. :: tapping on a PADD, and passing it to James :: These are the characteristics of the anti-particles we need to produce. Do you think it is possible? ::Shayne raised an eyebrow. The newcomer was already taking charge, and from the sounds of it, most competently.:: James: It is possible. Ramirez: Thank you. Please, let me know when the modifications are complete. I will give you then the information about the energy output and how narrow the beam must be. ::The ensign then turned to the newly promoted Mandak, and… did Shayne catch a whiff of affection? Or infatuation? Either way, the brief look on Ramirez’s face vanished within an instant of its appearance, and business was once again on the forefront of his mind.:: Ramirez: :: clearing his throat :: Lt. Mandak, Can you provide the exact location of the outer and inner rims of the anomaly, please? ::The request was simple, but satisfying it would likely be time consuming. Unlike what Shayne had come to expect from anomalies in his travels, this one stayed fairly consistent in size- another factor leading him to personally believe that it was created by mortal instruments, not by the random authority of chance.:: Mandak: ? Ramirez: Please, patch that information to my console once your calculations are complete… Mandak:? ::There was a controlled excitement in Ramirez’s slightly accented voice, and Shayne almost wanted to share in it. Their newest science officer was clearly looking forward to seeing what would result of his idea, and beyond that, Shayne knew that many science officers held the thrill of discovery above almost everything else. Casually, he looked at Ramirez, who promptly noted the intrusion.:: Shayne: You’re looking pleased. Anything I can do to help? ::Just like Merzan, Shayne despised sitting idle. When others around him were working, thas resentment morphed into an intolerable burden. He actually wanted an ensign to give him instructions- anything to be a part of the team.:: Ramirez: Sorry, sir. :: clearing his throat again :: Hmmm… Can you monitor the anomaly and keep an eye on the rift’s chroniton density, please? :: providing a PADD :: Here you will find instructions about how to do it, sir. Please, that that station :: pointing the a place close to Mandak's :: ::Shayne now raised both eyebrows. Most cadets or brand new ensigns demurred from taking command of any situation if offered the opportunity, and those that didn’t often had an inflated opinion of themselves and their abilities. But Ramirez was proving to be a most pleasant surprise. What a remarkable display of competence.:: Shayne: Aye, ensign. Mandak: ? ::After a short time, during which Shayne was just beginning to wrap his mind around his assigned task, James spoke up.:: James: The modifications are done, Ensign. Ramirez: Response ::There was no doubting the concern in James’ voice as she replied. Indeed, Shayne shared some of that apprehension.:: James: ::as casually as she could manage:: And you’re positive this will work ::The doubt was still present, but Ramirez’s confidence gave Shayne the courage to put some faith into their work.:: Ramirez/ Mandak: ? Shayne: From what little I understand, it’s got a good chance. James: Okay… Ready when you are. ::Shayne consulted his instruments.:: Shayne: Ensign, chroniton density is dropping, slowly but surely. We’ve got to hurry. Ramirez/ Mandak/James: ? ::As the process began, Shayne’s panel lit up with a warning he didn’t immediately recognize. After a moment, though, it came to him.:: Shayne: We’re firing an antiproton beam directly into the center of the anomaly. ::He squinted and looked closer.:: Shayne: Some strange readings over here… Ramirez/ Mandak/James: ? Tag/TBC… Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne Ops Officer/ Second Officer USS Blackwell NCC 58999 G239202RS0
  18. Hello Dane! Welcome aboard. We're glad to have you here and I look forward to seeing you are
  19. ((USS Fortwith, Crashing towards somewhere...)) ((ooc - If there are any audio visual folks in the room, I wrote the first part of this to this song "Song for Bob - by Nick Caves and Warren Ellis")) :: whirring sound, like wind tunnel... darkness...:: :: The last thing he knew they were plummeting towards a planet of some sort... Flores as at the helm while he stood by. Just because she was there, there was no certainty that they'd even make it; even with one of the most experienced flight directors int he fleet. He wasn't ready to die. :: :: The view screen closes down as the power retreats in a shower of sparks. :: :: He braced the back of the chair to the helm position and positioned his feet in a way that 'might' keep him from flying about. But then again, there they were hurtling towards an atmosphere of literal unknowns. This was only his third year in command of anything... oO Short and sweet I guess... Oo. Gravimetrics were offline by now... :: :: whirring is louder now... realizes it's in his head... he looks about the cabin, watching as some others brace as well, and one cries out loud. :: :: He felt the deck plates shaking apart... The heat in the room increased... They had gone through what atmosphere that planet had. What should have been a clean 2 minutes was taking an eternity. He wasn't sure if he was ready to die... or to pick up and start again wherever they were, if that was even an option. He thought of his wife... his children... He thought back to that time they had mistakenly ended up halfway around the world because he booked the wrong pleasure cruise after their honeymoon... He thought of teaching Ella how to ride her first speeder. Or the first time Ryan took to flight professionally. If only he could see them all one more time... :: :: The vessel lurches to the left, sending plasma bursting through the room, and the Captain flying to the floor... There was flame coming into the room now... One of the crewman nearest the hole was sucked through, followed by a large piece of metal that seemed to cover the hole. :: :: He regained his stance, and made for the center chair... He could see Flores yelling to him, bracing... but he couldn't hear her. As were the others... :: :: Whirring is intense... nearly the only noise in the room... growing louder... room becoming overwhelmed with emotion, fear, anger, flame against his face... then... darkness and silence.:: ((USS Fortwith, Sometime later)) :: The room was spinning in a thousand different points of light and darkness. He felt as if he was in five million parts... but then again, he was feeling. He thought for sure that he was dead. That was until he felt the pain... Pain on the left side of his face... He began to scream. A gutteral scream that must've caught some attention. Before he could move... darkness again... :: :: This happened a few times before he finally would awake to a far less painful state. He realized then that he was in his own sickbay... Rex began to sit upright, as the doctor ran to this side to attempt sedation once more. :: McMillan: NO! Doctor: Sir! McMillan: GET AWAY FROM ME... That's an ORDER... :: His face felt stiff... He ran his hand across one side, just to feel hard flesh, and pain. His ear was gone. His mouth was stretched to one side. He realized he'd been burned... badly. He didn't care though... He was alive... and with a massive pit in his stomach. :: McMillan: I'm sorry... I... What the frack is going on? Doctor: Sir, we've been crashed on this rock for a few hours now... Lieutenant Flores has been in command... McMillan: Where is she... I need to know what's happened. :: He began to stand, and felt pain shooting through his right side. He didn't care... :: Doctor: Bridge sir... :: He didn't even acknowledge him, but he heard. He turned and immediately made for the bridge... :: ((Fortwith Bridge)) :: The trip took so long... The damage to the vessel was unspeakable... there were bodies in the halls... there were just as many seemingly trying to make something out of nothing as they attempted repairs, or care for the injured. He stepped over them, in desperation of his XO's face. He had to know if she was alright, and what the situation out there was. The bridge lay ahead, with the doors propped, and he could hear her voice speaking... He crested the door to the bridge, and was immediately attacked... by a Klingon. :: Krenn: [Tag] :: He began to struggle with him at first, but was overcome by the pain in his body... then there were others... people he didn't recognize at all. They were dressed strangely. All this he managed to see while being nearly strangled by the Klingon in front of him, shouting obscenities. It was all really too much. The strangely dressed one managed to control the Klingon long enough for him to struggle away and over to Flores. :: McMillan: What in the HELL is happening around here??? And Who is this? Or you? Krenn: Response Thoran/Little/Krenn: Response McMillan: :: His look was incredulous. :: I have no clue what he's saying... Pandorn: ::quietly and evenly wih a scowl:: When you go hand to hand with a Hur'Q, then talk to me. Krenn: [Tag] Pandorn: Broke its back against a wall. Made a very nice cracking sound. The same Hur'Q we ::indicates the away team:: drove off Arndall. If you doubt me... Krenn: [Tag] Pandorn: That's right. We fought the Hur'Q on Arndall and won. We could fight the entire time we're here, or we could work together to fix this. What's it going to be, Sogh? Krenn: [Tag] McMillan: WHAT IS GOING ON HERE! My ship is crashed, my face is burnt... There's a Klingon on my ship which I never thought would happen unless there were here taking my head back to Qo'Nos, and here stand you people to make it worse, arguing about who's PHOTONS are bigger? Pandorn: [Tag] McMillan: :: Interrupting him:: LIEUTENANT, might I get a report please... :: Holding his side, staring at the Klingon:: Flores: [Tag] :: He looked around the room... the whirring started again. He looked to the Klingon, and the seemingly friendly man in yellow that was holding onto him like some sort of puppy. He didn't like this... He didn't know these people... Some of his have died, and now there they stand... :: Thoran/Little: Response McMillan: Lieutenant Flores... he drew his weapon, and nodded for her to do the same. :: Get these people together... we need to figure out what's happening here. Thoran/Pandorn: [Tag] McMillan: ::Sticking the black phase pistol straight to the man's face. :: I want to be crystal clear... :: whirring stops:: We were morphed to this space... struck with something... I wake up with half my crew DEAD or DYING... and a bunch of weirdos and a Klingon on my deck... Don't TELL ME to calm down. Now take a step back... against the wall... all of you. :: :: A few other crewmembers had drawn down as well. :: Anyone: [Tag] TBC/Tags - - MSNPC Captain Rex McMillan Commanding Officer USS Fortwith - NX-03 As simmed by Lieutenant JG Na'Lae Mandak Helm Officer USS Blackwell Andaris Task Force O238901VL0
  20. @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
  21. Hello and welcome aboard @Renna Leath. Pleased that you jumped in, it's good to have you with us
  22. @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::
  23. @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
  24. @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
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