Hallia Yellir

This whole exchange had me wheezing

Hallia Yellir checking in! "Metang use hyper spanner! Wait... that's not right"

Lt. Hallia Yellir, Chief Engineer of the Artemis-A. Sporting a stunning mint green gown, embellished with silver rhinestones and sequins. Made by her favourite designer - The Industrial Replicator on Deck 16 😌

It seems like yesterday I walked into the biology class late to see my lab partner dissecting a fly. I told them "I think your fly is open"

Aine would be very proud 😌

Congratulations to everyone, it was so amazing to see so many amazing people I've written with past and present be praised and recognized for their amazing work. 💖🙌

A garment of old Earth origin, Hallia was somewhat giddy to show off something that had been custom made just for an occasion like this. From an old friend who owed the Yelikan a favour, Moss Zoras, owner of the Bolian owned brand, Spill the Jeans. Despite them specializing in denim and setting a new wave of trends for Bolarus, she knew out of anyone, they would know how to pull off a particularly ancient garment such as this. A flowy gown, made from a delustered satin from earth and a sequin covered, tulle overlay. Spun from threads of silk from her home planet, she was excited to be showing off the craftsmanship of Yelik. From head to toe she was entirely decked out. Not to mention, the reds and pinks really seemed to compliment her skin and eyes, allowing the small pops of green to really catch the gaze of those she walked past.

She could feel them — the alien thoughts worming their way into her mind. Every passing second felt like an eternity whizzing by, and gradually, she could feel her sense of self drifting. Being torn apart and worn down into nothing but concepts and ideas, and then eventually it was like there was little more than a vacuum to fill the space. An image flashed and then vanished from sight. It was checkered flannel. She could feel it in her hand, the soft fibres brushing and then gliding against her skin. The gentle weave massaged the gaps between her fingers as she could feel her hand balling up the fabric. But everything else felt numb. The touch was so familiar to her, and her mind gravitated towards it. Until a muddy image filled her vision. He was staring back at her. She recognized that form, pale skin, a long neck, but everything else seemed… strangely out of focus, but his mouth was moving, he was wearing that same checkered flannel. Ragged and torn, holes and missing buttons ran across the garment. Red and black tones overlapped and behind him, everything else melted together. Colours, images and sounds all bled into one another, ever so slowly forming the whole picture. Neon lights contrasted the dim backdrops, empty tables scattered around the pair as some kind of music seemed to practically suffocate the two. The bass thrummed deeply into the woman’s chest as if it were thunder and her eyes darted around the seemingly empty room just to make sense of it all. ‘This wasn’t where I was a second ago…’ She watched as he mouthed the word “Mirrin” repeatedly. Even the woman’s own voice seemed alien to her. But that wasn’t simply a word, the meaning it carried, the ease of which she resonated with the phrase seemed almost otherworldly. ‘Is that my name?’ But everything about this memory seemed so painfully familiar, as Mirrin read the man’s lips. It was like she could understand everything that was being said. But there was an itching feeling— that she knew this wasn’t real. And there it was— that influence Mirrin could feel, taking root deeply into this thought, this moment and these feelings. There was a deep discomfort, like ice-cold water dripping down your shirt. The image began to shift and distort, blurs and blank spots formed like little tears and imperfections in the image. Colours began to seep out of the world, and the echoes of the heavy bass grew softer and softer until there was nothing left. Suddenly, it all went dark— there was nothing but a void, nothing more than an absolute vacuum. Mirrin’s eyes cracked open, wincing at the artificial light filling this chamber made from stone. A hand pulled away from her face, she felt a release of pressure most notably around her nose and temple. A form with pointed ears and a slightly unkempt bowl cut unveiled itself as her eyes adjusted to the sudden intense lighting. The floor beneath her suddenly felt solid, and cold sensations on her bare legs, mixed with the warmth of heavy cloth was relieving. “Are you all right?” The man spoke. His voice was monotonous The wave of exhaustion washed over Mirrin and her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. She didn't know where she was or who was in front of her. Words passed in one ear and out the other, nothing seemed to make sense.

Ok, but hear me out-- is it bad that I could see our crew participating in a prison break in a future mission???

Is it bad the first thing that came into my head was an aggravatingly bright neon lime green?

I'm surprised we didn't ask for more counsellors aboard after the crew was put in a death loop over the course of several hours 😬

Ship went boom, BUT, kudos to @Genkos Adea for giving us not the blaze of glory we deserved, but the one we absolutely needed 😌✨

Oh, I just want you to come with me We on another mentality Ain't got no tears left to cry So I'm pickin' it up, pickin' it up I'm lovin', I'm livin', I'm pickin' it up - No Tears Left To Cry -- Ariana Grande -- (2018)

Thank you!! Y'all are so sweet, it was GREAT fun to write, and @LtJG Aine Olive Sherlock is an amazing scene partner to work with!

I'm always open to make that happen! The two would definitely be a fun combo 😄

Melody, all dolled up and ready for her close up!

Okay but hear me out- The Freedom-Class

Originally, Melody was supposed to be an engineer. But I feel like if she were to do a career change now, she would probably end up putting her skills in stellar cartography to good use.

Short, but very very sweet. It was an amazing read! @Ben Garcia (( A Romulan Republic colony. Time index: several years prior to current mission. )) Rain clawed at the slated rooftops. The dank smell of damp leaves mulched under the heavy thread of cold, treacherous boots that trod along the midnight pavement. At the corner of the street, a light – a dull yellow porch light - flickered against the howl of the wind. Across the way, a gate slammed monotonously against its latch. Somewhere, a dog snarled. Rain beaded and trickled off the stiff, polished leather boots as they continued on and scurried their way down a side alley. A voice. Then another. A handshake. A packet exchanged. Several stories above, Koteel drew a fine, powderless wisp of breath. Koteel’s eyes narrowed as the cranium of her target found itself framed within the deadly web of her crosshairs. In less than two beats of the heart, the target would be neutralised. The accomplice? Perhaps two steps – or three if he was lucky – before the silky thread of Koteel’s crosshairs ensnared him in the oblivion of death. Koteel’s wisp of breath waned into nothingness. Now, through the crosshairs, Koteel marvelled at the pooling blood that trickled around the slumped carcasses. The packet? A dud, planted by the Republic to flush out the Tal Shiar vermin known to scurry these streets in the afterhours. Koteel’s counterpart nimbled along the alley way, secured the packet and secreted it into the folds of a heavy raincoat. The hatted figure turned briefly and dead-eyed Koteel through the crosshairs. The deed was done. End. MSPNPC Koteel Nk’htho Ambassadorial Attaché to Tr'Kenda (Political/Diplomatic Security) Romulan Republic ---------------------- Lieutenant Ben Garcia Second Officer/HCO Embassy Duronis II - USS Thor NCC-82607 Author ID number: G239102MR0

Melody tends to go for a bit of a midpoint between stylish and practical. I think if I had to sum up an era to describe her fashion sense, i'd say 1940s New Yorker

"You mean, let them eat ALL that cake?!"

Thank you so much!!!! 😁 @Jo Marshall I had great fun writing this, and i didn't realise how emotional it was to read until i sent it out and gave it a read. Thanks for the appreciation ❤️it means a lot

Star Trek for me is probably the most influential thing in my life. Early in my lifetime and to this day, Star Trek has constantly reminded me that i have a voice despite my age and that voice is powerful enough to make a change, no matter how insignificant or un-intimidating i may seem. Watching normal people constantly go above and beyond the sums of their parts has always empowered me, be it a plasma leak or full on core breach. Their ability to pull through in a pinch has always just amazed me on so many levels, despite the flaws that hold them back.