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Jarred Thoran

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Posts posted by Jarred Thoran

    Lt Cmdr Tatash - "War within oneself" (Laurel Clark)

    in Appreciations

    Posted

    ((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

    • Like 1

    PNPC Ambassador Kalianna Nicholotti - Hauntings from the Past

    in Appreciations

    Posted

    ((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

    • Like 2

    LtCmdr. Shayne: The Rippling Tide

    in Appreciations

    Posted

    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 

    • Like 1
    • Thanks 1

    MSNPC Captain Rex McMillan - Treachery Comes in All Forms

    in Appreciations

    Posted

    ((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

    • Like 3

    LtCmdr. Shayne: Finally... Answers? (Blackwell)

    in Appreciations

    Posted

    I always love it when @Randal Shayne is left in charge :D

    -----------------

    ((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

    • Like 3
    • Thanks 1

    MSNPC Captain Rex McMillan - Go Ahead... Move a Muscle

    in Appreciations

    Posted

    ((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
    • Like 2

    Unknown - Where We Find Hell

    in Appreciations

    Posted

    @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

    • Like 2

    JP: Commander Whittaker & Lt. Commander Ezo: Friends Reunited

    in Appreciations

    Posted

    @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::

    • Like 4

    Lt. Commander Mirra Ezo - Verbal Fly Paper

    in Appreciations

    Posted

    @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
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