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  1. ((Mak’Ala City, Res Residence, Front Porch)) ::Emilia stood firmly in front of the pearl white door of her former home. Her hand, balled into a fist, was raised to knock on the lukewarm wood before her, freezing barely centimetres above the pearl white surface. Emilia’s heart practically trembled in her chest.:: oO Deep breaths Emilia Oo ::Taking in a gulp of air, Emilia finally knocked on the door. Feeling as if a weight was lifted off her shoulder, Emilia’s arm retreated to her side. From the other side of a door, resounded a muffled, but loud female voice. Immediately Emilia assumed it was her mother coming to tend to the whoever was at the door.:: ::The door swung open, revealing a tall, trill female, Emilia recognised the woman to be . Her dark hair suspended in a low ponytail. Her head was turned, facing behind her:: B. Res: I’ll be back in a second mother- ::Bisreel’s head moved slowly, locking eyes with Emilia for a split second, only to break the contact with an oddly strong embrace.:: Emilia! ::Bisreel’s suffocating hug caught Emilia by surprise, figuratively giving her a heart attack in the process. Bisreel backed off with a bright smile.:: Krugol: It’s so good to see you! I haven’t spoken to you in so long! B. Res: Everyone’s waiting to see you! Come in! ::Bisreel stepped aside, her hands gripped firmly around the front door. Emilia thanked her and stepped inside, allowing the peculiarly fruity smell of home to invade her nostrils.:: ((Mak’Ala City, Res Residence, Front Hallway)) ::Shortly after the closing of the front door, Bisreel’s body brushed past Emilia, barely touching the warm, tangerine coloured wall. Bisreel’s hand motioned for Emilia to follow, gingerly, Emilia followed behind her eldest sister, somewhat careful not to disturb the peace of the house, with the sound of her heels against the hard, tiled flooring. Three distinct voices echoed through the house, each getting louder with each step the pair took to the kitchen.:: B. Res: You’re a little later than we thought! Good ol’ middle sister started to wonder if you were gonna show up! ::Brushing the comment aside, Emilia chuckled.:: Krugol: Well you know me, Bisreel! Window shopping is a very time consuming hobby. ::Jokingly, she tilted her head upwards.:: B. Res: Yeah, I know, I seem to remember a time where you made your two sisters wait ten minutes while you tried to give yourself another makeover. ::Bisreel chuckled triumphantly, swiftly ending the sisterly exchange.:: ::The tangerine coloured walls passed by the pair of trill as they travelled down the hallway. Countless old pictures and family photos almost entirely covered the walls of the hallway, leaving little room for the technically orange backdrop to shine through, each framed in an old wooden frame. Shining its way through the kitchen, the bright trill sunlight highlighted the almost marble looking tiles beneath their feet. Basking in the colours cast by the walls around her, Emilia smiled joyously, her legs bouncing like springs as she took each step. The familiar family home, seeming to bring out many pleasant memories.:: B.Res: Mother!! We have a visitor ::Bisreel’s thunderous voice caused Emilia to visibly wince. The sheer volume of her sour tone was like a speaker at max volume.:: oO She takes after mother alright. There’s no doubt about that. Oo ((Mak’Ala City, Res Residence, Kitchen)) ::The pair entered the kitchen to the sound of chatter, two Trill women leaned against the marble countertops, one trill, not much taller than Emilia, and the other seemed a little stockier build wise, but also seemed much older in comparison. Their attention shifting to the arriving newcomers, greeting them with two surprised grins.:: A. Res: Emi!! ::Without even a chance to say a word, Emilia was overwhelmed by a suffocating hug. WIthout a second thought, she reciprocated the contact with an equally suffocating hug, squeezing Alu as tightly as possible.:: A. Res: Ouch! Too tight! ::Emilia broke the contact, grinning cheekily at Alu as their mother quickly interjected.:: M. Res: Leave some of her for the rest of us. ::Returning their grins, Emilia quickly made her way to the far side of the kitchen, shielding her eyes from the bright sun that shone through the large window.:: M. Res: I’ve missed you so much dear. ::Miraah wrapped her arm delicately around Emilia, planting a soft kiss on her cheek in the process.:: Krugol: ::Emilia pulled away, continuing on with her smile.:: Is father home? ::Just as their mother was about to open her mouth, Bisreel interjected.:: B. Res: You just missed him, he got a call from the institute. He said it was urgent. ::Upon hearing those words, Emilia’s grin dropped in a hint of disappointment. The one member of her family she perhaps missed the most, seemed as illusive as ever. But nobody could blame him for taking his work seriously, the family knew how much work life meant for a greying man like him.:: M. Res: You three have some catching up to do, why don’t you all go sit down, i’ll get some tea boiling, as well as bring out some food. ::As lovingly as ever, Miraah ushered the sibling out of the kitchen fairly light-heartedly. The three leaving through the short continuation of the hallway, presumably heading to the living room to continue on their catch up session:: _________________________ Ensign Emilia Krugol - USS Gorkon - Security/Tactical officer - G239409EK0 ___________________________
  2. ((Par'tha Expanse, Shuttlecraft B’hala)) M’Roa: oO How good to finally graduate. This one’s path has been long and winding. Thorny bushes have obscured the way and cut M’Roa’s beautiful soft fur as she hacked and carved a path through. Oo ::By contrast, R’Iondr’s path was well traveled, with smooth brick underneath to guide the way. They met one another as starry eyes freshman cadets, yet he had completed his training, a year long cadet cruise and graduated a full four years ahead of her. She had been left alone from that point to raise their cub and S’Emar was such a daddy’s girl. It was no wonder she was so clingy with him now.:: S’Emar: Are we nearly there yet? R’Iondr: For the last time, no. Now settle yourself. We’ll get there when we get there. ::His tone was firm but not harsh. He let out a long sigh and looked longingly around the cramped shuttle. There weren’t many seats and few of them were empty but it hadn’t stopped S’Emar from trying them all out. The young Caitian was moulting into her summer coat and leaving short hairs everywhere. While R’Iondr and M’Roa both wished they could stretch their legs, there wasn’t really anywhere to go. They weren’t filled with the impudence of youth and could tolerate discomfort for much longer.:: S’Emar: S’Emar is bored! ::Whining petulantly:: ::M’Roa didn’t blame her. They had all talked for many hours when reuinted on the shuttle. After having spent so much time apart, it felt like they would never be able to catch up. Yet, they had and while the adults were content to simply enjoy one another’s company now, the lack of bold and exciting stories left nothing to distract their child from the boredom.:: M’Roa: Why don’t you read one of your novels then? ::There wasn’t room to lay out card, dice or board games. What little entertainment they’d brough along had to be quiet to avoid disruption to other travellers. S’Emar’s PADD had various ebooks downloaded. M’Roa had let her choose her own, hoping that would ensure they’d hold her attention. S’Emar liked funny and scary books the best.:: S’Emar: Borrrring… ::It also had some interactive games. As long as she used the earbuds, it wouldn’t disturb the others.:: R’Iondr: What about one of your games then? S’Emar: Okay! ::M’Roa was sure she would have set to licking their boots clean if R’Iondr had asked for it. Rolling her eyes they settled back as S’Emar contended herself a while longer. A Bajoran woman approached. Up until now the olive skinned woman had been occupied with other things and they had paid her no mind.:: Udro: I’m sorry I have not been much of a traveling companion to you all. M’Roa: Apologies are not necessary. R'Iondr: You are heading to Atlantis too, yes? Are you new, or returning? Udro: I’ve been on Atlantis over a year now, its a good ship. Will this be your first postings M’Roa: For M’Roa, yes. This one just graduated. R'Iondr: This humble engineer has served at Deep Space 26 a few years now. We’re glad to be reunited. M’Roa: We just thought it might be on a planetary assignment or a station. ::The advisors at the Academy had assured them that Starfleet families were quite common and that as far as reasonable possible, they did try to keep families together. They said they tended to avoid placing families on ships with more dangerous or far flung assignments and that they would likely work different shifts to ensure at least one parent was able to be with the child as much as possible. It had certainly put to bed fears of being absent parents with a child raised by a computer. Things weren’t working out entirely as envisioned but Starfleet has kept their word about keeping the family together and that was the most important thing in their minds.:: S’Emar: S'Emar is hungry! M’Roa: oO Sun and moon! We still have a good days worth of travel ahead and she is increasingly restless. Oo M’Roa: There are snack bars in your bag. S’Emar: Mother refers to ration bars. This one is sick of dry, tasteless ration bars. S’Emar longs for steak. M’Roa: You can’t have steak just now, but as soon as we get settled into our new home, we will celebrate with the most succulent steak you’ve ever tasted. S’Emar: Okay! ::Her tone was bright and chipper. She was a true child of the sun:: But what can this one have now? ::Neither of them could blame S’Emar for being tired of the same textures and flavours. They’d tried to include as much of a variety of foods as possible and she’d been really good about things up until now. The shuttle was equipped with a small replicator, but one could hardly sit and eat a delicious bowl of soup. One little bump in the ride and they’d all be scalded. Still, perhaps it was time to retrieve something a little more exciting.:: R’Iondr: R’Iondr knows just the thing, hold on a moment. ::He went to the replicator, leaving her with the nice Bajoran lady.:: M’Roa: What role do you serve in on the Atlantis? Udro: Response M’Roa: How is Starfleet life? What’s it really like beyond the pretty advertising, the sunshine and smiles. Udro: Response Ensign M’Roa Intelligence Officer USS Atlantis A239506M10
  3. A D'Delnor Skewering A warbird filled with enemies supplied Of mighty weapons, and against the tide, Lieutenant zh'Aella, the story's told, Led a team so brave and bold. Storm the Bridge, they did attack Under hails of gunfire, did our lumberjack, Seize the moment, crisp and clean, To wrestle an Andorian, twice as mean. A choke hold, with thighs of steel, Turned her aggressor from blue to teal, A scuffle, this was, amidst such pressure, When spotting a dagger, a knife, a treasure. Saw his opening, did our hellish foe, And skewered our girl from head to toe. But did she feel it? Not at all For it affirmed her rivals downfall. PO Brooks a-patched and aided, While zh'Aella lay on the deck, a-bladed, Blood a-pouring from a wound still free, She was approaching her apogee. Brooks, fearing this a fruitless task, Opened up a foul-smelling flask, zh'Aella, replied with the hope of a Cadet, "Very reassuring PO, but I'm not dead yet." A battle raged on the deck by Officers akin, The self-destruct, a plan, a lynchpin, To blow the ship and beam off speedily An order followed quite obediently. When all were transported, the deck aflame Back home to the Gorkon, lame and maim, Brooks could be heard, tone perplexed, "First Andorian blood and then vomit, what is next?" Written by Lt jg Jo Marshall.
  4. ((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
  5. (( USS Nerandra, Sickbay)) ::No plan survives contact with the enemy. At least not in its original form, because there is always that imponderal that reality shoves up on your face. But Vitor was never much fan from Moltke the Elder. In fact he always considered the Prussians generals a little over rated, mostly because he was never a fan of Clausewitz and always thought his book was not the broader military manual most considered. However now was not the time to bring in war theory considerations, it was time to adapt the plan to the detail the Devil has put in front of him. And there were at least 4 or 5 details, in the form of the Romulans that beamed in to Sickbay. In the second he realized it, he went for his phaser and shouted again.:: Silveira: SEAL THE MORGUE. INCOMING… ::Not waiting for the replies from the rest of the team, as the Romulans materialized he fired his phaser up in their general direction and shut the door to the morgue. He jumped for cover. Raising his phaser from behind the biobed he was now kneeling behind he fired again, as disruptor fire blasted around him. He was pinned down and he only hoped the others reacted quickly. In a second he made a decision. In the next he almost changed his mind, when he realized he would never consider this. He was always the first to step in and ready to sacrifice himself. Always ready to make the last stand. Not this time.:: Silveira: I surrender... ::It was time to change the plan. His mind returned to military strategists, and the one, and Vitor didn’t cared about the discussions surrounding the real authorship of the book, he considered the real master of war. The one that put on the principles that were truly “The Art of War”, over 3000 Earth years ago. And as Sun Tzu wrote, “To subdue the enemy without fighting is the acme of skill”.:: Vrerik: Yes, I’m sure you do… ::Vitor threw his phaser over the biobed, before slowly raising behind the biobed with his hands above his head. He avoided looking to the Morgue door and firmly kept his eyes on who appeared to be the leader of the team.:: Silveira: Lieutenant Commander Vitor Stone Silveira, Starfleet number O238907VS0. Vrerik: Well, Lieutenant-Commander Silveira. ::Motioning with his pistol.:: Why don’t you have a seat? ::He walked slowly to the bench the Romulan pointed to him. With relief he saw him motioned for three of the guards to leave and secure the hallway outside. Besides the leader there was just another gard. He hoped the others on the morgue could listen to them and were taking what little time he was buying them.:: Vrerik: I have some questions for you, Commander. ::Stepping closer, the Romulan promptly back-handed Vitor with his pistol.:: How many others have you brought aboard? ::Vitor managed to remain seated as he was struck. It was a good blow and he felt the blood inside his mouth. It hurt, but he had taken worse blows. Vitor raised his head and smirked at his captor, with his best teasing expression, in spite the sore cheek.:: Silveira: Just a few. We don’t need much to take back what is ours. ::Then the alarms sounded around them. Quarantine fields were raised and Vitor smiled realizing the plan was in motion and the others managed to beam out the canisters..:: Vrerik: I asked you ::Another backhand:: how many!? ::Vitor nearly fell off this time and now it really hurt. His left side felt warm and he lost sight for a moment. He felt something else on his brow, but now he couldn’t tell if it was the bruise or a cut. Knowing it was a matter of time he kept the defying expression, forcing himself to a wide smile, and hopping Max could hear him.:: Silveira: Shirley. You can’t expect me to tell you. ::That looked like it worked. He wondered if the Romulan knew that classic humor gag. He pressed his pistol into Vitor’s forehead, with a cruel smile on his face. It wasn’t the first time he was on a hot spot like this one. But there is always something about having a gun in you head, and an enemy ready to use it. Vitor kept his posture, but he couldn’t help it as the thoughts of the two most important persons in his life rose from the back of his head. Jonathan and Fai. And again time, but not really about the form, or the fact it had been just a few seconds that feel like hours. But of future and present. Because that was what Jonathan and Fai meant to him right now, and for them he would risk it all.:: Silveira: Like the klingons say, today is a good day to die. Vrerik: As you wish it, Starfleet. ::The Romulan pressed harder the pistol and Vitor closed his eyes. Perhaps he overplayed his bluff. Could it be that the final moment really come? After all the years on the edge, sometimes ready to leap, was it now? Even closed, his eyes began to burn, as he felt tears forming in them. He was losing the future, Jonathan. Seeing his son grow, proud of his heritage, half Human half Andorian, in a Federation that although it wasn’t perfect it would allow him to live free, and work with others, boldly going where ever he wanted. And the present, with Fai. More than anything else he feared for how she would suffer from his loss. In that second, that relative second that felt like an hour, his thoughts were to them. He barely realized the pressure from the pistol eased, until it was gone, and he only opened his eyes when the Romulan spoke.:: Vrerik: What…. ::A growl.:: Starfleet tricke- tric- ery…. ::His enemy began to collapse, losing his pistol and fighting to keep himself straight. The tears in his eyes fell as he smiled. He felt them burn when they pass by the side of his face that was hurt, but he kept smiling. Forcing himself up he spoke, uncertain if the Romulan could hear him.:: Silveira: We learn it from the Romulans. ::He pushed himself forward and walked to the nearest console, tapping it to open a line to the morgue. To his surprise it was already open, and his smile widen as he spoke.:: Silveira: Sorry about that, Shirley here wanted to spoil our party. Zel,Elspeth,McLaren,EMH,Maxwell: ? ::Vitor nodded even if they couldn’t see him.:: Silveira: It worked, thankfully it worked… Zel,Elspeth,McLaren,EMH,Maxwell: ? ::Vitor’s head began to hurt and he had to lean down.:: Silveira: So… Who is going to give me a hand here? Shirley gave me a couple of slaps with his pop gun and it’s hurting like hell. Zel,Elspeth,McLaren,EMH,Maxwell: ? ::Vitor tried to answer them, but his legs gave in and he stumbled to the ground. He felt dizzy, hurt and couldn’t think straight.:: Silveira: oO Dammit… Don’t let me die on the beach… Oo TAG/TBC Lt. Cmd. Vitor S. Silveira Chief of Operations Starbase 118 Ops O238907VS0 --
  6. (( Turbolift, USS Gorkon )) ::So far, Jo had managed not to die on the planet filled with Trills, of whom her experience had mainly consisted of beings whose ultimate aim in life was to die in a cataclysmic fashion. It was like they were all living on the knife-edge of a grandiose gamble with fate. She was contemplating their tendency to run headlong into danger, and if Ops should introduce some kind of Trill insurance policy, when the Turbolift doors were closing as she approached. She broke into a jog to catch it.:: Marshall: Hey, hold the lift! ::Emilia’s eyes widened at the approaching presence. With her arm stretching towards the panel in the turbolift, the doors came to a sudden halt after a quick tap of a command.:: Krugol: Oh! S-Sorry! ::Jo managed to slip between the doors and skidded to a halt, smiling at the familiar occupant. They hadn't shared many a conversation outside of their profession but were quite beyond introductions.:: Marshall: Emilia, good to see you! Heading down to Trill? Krugol: ::Emilia nodded:: Likewise, sir, a-and I sure am! Wouldn’t miss it for the galaxy. ::Emilia smiled, recognising the officer before her. She greeted the familiar face with a bright expression, reflecting her content attitude. Emilia took a quick note of her lack of stuttering, she wondered if her vibrant and content attitude was to thank.:: Marshall: Have you got anything good planned? ::she quirked her eyebrow:: You’re from Trill, right? Krugol: Of course i am sir ::She chuckled.:: I’m planning to do some wandering around my birthplace, ::Emilia quickly added.:: a-as well as drop in to see my family for a bit. Are you heading down to the surface as well? Marshall: I was planning on it. ::she nodded:: Can’t be stuck on the ship when there’s a planet to explore. ::The doors to the turbolift closed eventually, and then began the quiet hum as the two officers moved through the ship. Emilia sighed with her head held high with confidence. That may be the sugar rush talking, but since lunch, she felt several leagues more confident than she did the day before.:: Krugol: Well, i can tell that you won’t be disappointed sir. Trill is such a beautiful planet. I’d say it’s even comparable to earth. ::The mention of the planet made the Human smile; she liked Earth and had spent the best part of her young adult life in San Francisco, as did quite a few of the other trained Officers. Of course, it wasn’t her birthplace, or where she considered home to be, but it was still a beautiful world. Being a Human it was still only natural to assume that she had shuffled out of her mother’s womb there.:: Marshall: Oh? Fancy giving me a quick rundown of the hotspots? Krugol: Mak’ala city is a must see for any tourist or sightseer. You have hot springs, reserves, wonderful choices for where to eat. A-And let’s not forget the beautiful bathhouses and nature reserves. Marshall: It does sound like the place to be. The crew will love it, I’m sure. ::she clasped her hands behind her back as the lift moved:: I haven’t been to Trill since… when was it… the summer of twenty-three eighty-seven. Eighteen and dumb. Hiking up the Lekarna Mountains before throwing myself into the Springball quarterfinals. Krugol: Really? How’d that work out? Marshall: ::she chuckled and shook her head:: Knocked out second round. Good job really. More time for hiking and sending my foolish self off to become the Academy’s problem. ::she rolled her eyes at herself with a slight grin:: Whereabouts were you born? Mak’ala City? ::Emilia nodded pridefully:: Krugol: Yep! I was raised on the lesser populated eastern areas. It’s a lot quieter than any of the other areas, mostly because of the lack of access to business opportunities ::The turbolift smoothly slid to a stop and allowed the two occupants onto the requested deck for access to Boer Station then the planet beyond. The attached walkways were already bustling with fellow crew displaying the bloodshot eyes and shaky heads of first shore leave night parties. Usually that would be the point where the two conversing Officers would part ways to find whoever they were going to the surface with.:: Marshall: It must be good to see the old place after being flung around the galaxy so much. I imagine you’ll have a lot to tell them about. ::Emilia strutted out of the turbolift with her fellow gold shirt. She took in a sharp breath, taking in the busy atmosphere. Chatter in the corridors echoed throughout the deck, incoherently violating the ears of the listeners. Raising her arms above her head, Emilia stretched her stiff bones and muscles contained within her loose, knitted sweater.:: Krugol: No doubt, i’ll probably bombarded with questions again. ::She gazed off briefly into the distance.:: No doubt, mother’s still waiting on that special someone of mine ::she shuddered:: Marshall: Well, I hope you have a lovely time wandering around your home. ::she smiled brightly:: There’s talk of a camping gettogether at some point. You can tell me all about it then. Krugol: oO Camping? Oh god… Oo I-I look forward to it. ::She bowed her head slightly.:: ::About to run off for the connecting transport to the northern hemisphere, Jo stopped and turned back to catch the young Trill’s attention again. They hadn’t had much chance to get to know one another between missions, and while a conversation in a turbolift was as good as much others got, why go an inch when a mile was better?:: Marshall: It sounds like you’ve probably got your hands full with the obligatory family visits and by no means feel obliged here, but I’m planning on fitting in some white water rafting. There’s a river between the Thorain Mountains that I can never remember the name of. If you want to join, I can hold off going until you’re free? ::Emilia turned on her elevated heel. She smiled at Jo in a rather blissful, yet inquisitive manner. :: Krugol: Sure! I’m down for that. I-I need some exercise…. that doesn’t involve hitting a hologram to a pulp ::she chuckled awkwardly.::. Just contact me when you feel like it… then i’ll see if i can get beamed to your location. Marshall: ::she nodded:: Sure. Enjoy your time with your family and don’t forget to relax. Krugol: You too, sir. Enjoy your day. ::In the space of another wave, the two officers parted ways. Emilia straightened her body and walked with her head held high. Carefully, Emilia navigated the overflowing corridors, making sure not to awkwardly collide with any other officers, as well as avoiding getting in the way of anyone. Her eyes darted anxiously, watchfully, dodging potentially look destroying collisions. Thoughts of home flooded Emilia’s mind, making her flash a smile as she pressed herself up against the wall to avoid oncoming traffic.:: _________________________ Ensign Emilia Krugol - USS Gorkon - Security/Tactical officer - G239409EK0 ___________________________ & ___________________________ Lieutenant JG Jocelyn Marshall - Operations Officer - USS Gorkon - G239304JM0 ____________________________
  7. ((Tou’gulia’s, Leran Manev, Trill)) ::Trips to Trill had previously been confined to those of business and short breaks. Kael had found himself here a few times over the years, but he would hardly call himself familiar with the Trill Homeworld. Yet, despite his disconnection from Trillius Prime, Kael felt strangely at home here in the old section of Leran Manevs, affectionately called the Old City. The naming convention wasn't accidental; the architecture was old here. Reminiscent of a world where individual planets still held their distinct identity. A time where raw materials and structures were the preference. A time where hard work and effort was the chief constructor. All of this created a setting and feel that invited Kael is largely what drew him here today.:: ::The mid rising sun presented an indulgent warmth to the streets of Leran Manev. With the buildings and infrastructure generally only a couple of levels high the sun was free to full bask the area. Lively green spaces arose from resumed areas and Kael could see a group of young locals enjoying the soft surface it provided. Life mixed in with structure and history was often an odd mix. In many cases it as simply through neglect and haphazard design that history was remembered. Seldom was it cherished, celebrated and intermingled in with life as it was here. Kael let his hand run along the rough surface of a low fence, slowing his gait in the process. Pushing back the hair the surprise breeze shifted cleared the view of his destination.:: ::Tou’gulia’s was an open space dining area situated on the bank of a small stream. Having been here before Kael found it the perfect place for his meeting today. Edging closer Kael could smell the savoury delights the small cafe was famous for. Kael’s preference for honest real cooking meant he was very familiar with how these smells translated into wholesome delightful meals. Having also tried his hand at cooking, his appreciation for the art only added to his fervour.:: ::A small wooden bridge arched over the stream taking Kael directly into the garden area. On the exit of the bridge stood a plaque describing the history what Tou’gulia’s once was. The cafe was a former school, that served as a hive or learning and opportunity sireing many of Trill’s brightest minds during it’s time. It’s time came to an end following a tragic earthquake, with a decision made to abandon the facility and move to modernise. A move that was undertaken in a broad fashion in the general area. Pulling out the wooden seat at a nearby table Kael day dreamed of being a student again. Dreamed of what it would have been like here centuries ago where things were different, more simple.:: Reynolds: Response ::His attention rightly brought back to the present, Kael was reminded why he was on Trill to begin with. He was to be assigned to the USS Gorkon as his permanent position. The USS Gorkon, a Sovereign Class vessel and flagship of the fleet. While in many cases the fleets direction had shifted towards more flexible, small vessels the Sovereign held its place from it’s sheer power and size. It’s capabilities extended far beyond what it was able to do tactically and was realistically limited by the Captains imagination. Which, Kael expected would be considerable. Rear Admiral Reynolds had been in command of the Gorkon for some time now and had been heavily decorated in doing so. :: ::The small in stature officer had crossed and entered to the right of Kael softly but not understatedly. She commanded a presence even in such a place. Rising to his feet Kael greeted his new commanding officer.:: Thomas: Admiral Reynolds ::The pair had served together for a short period on the USS Mercury and Kael could probably have dispensed with the formalities.:: Lieutenant Commander Kael Thomas, reporting for duty. ::But he chose not too.:: ::The Admiral moved to her seat and cut off Kael’s opportunity to pull it out for her. :: Reynolds: Response Thomas: Well thank you Admiral. ::Pausing momentarily to catch the eye of the waiter.:: I’ve only heard good things about the Gorkon, I’m quite excited actually. ::Which he genuinely was. Kael had been assigned on the USS Ursa Major many years ago and thrived in the life of a large vessel. The opportunities, the people and the sheer difference that a large ship brings helped bridge any anxieties Kael might have had about coming back to work.:: ::A young Trill came and enquired about their readiness to order and Kael quickly fired off his Coffee and small savoury Muffin request. Well, it wasn’t a muffin but it was the closest thing that Kael could find that suited his Muffin craving. Waiting for the Admiral to convey what she was planning on ordering, Kael poured each of them a glass of water. Pushing the water gently towards the Admiral he gazed softly at her. She was probably in her mid 30’s, the same age thereabouts as Kael, although most of that he gleaned, not so much from her appearance, but rather her manner and list of achievements. :: Reynolds: Response Thomas: ::Smiling proudly.:: I’ve been her before. I’ve always enjoyed the peace and warmth of this area of town. A real breakaway from how things usually are. ::It might sound as though Kael resented life on a Starship, but that wasn’t true. Kael loved it and through his periods of absence often missed it. But he missed the opportunity to be on world just as much. The natural warmth, the feel of the air all reinvigorated Kael’s soul. After growing up spending so much time on the farm as a young boy, it was hard to leave all that behind. Which is exactly what Kael worked hard to keep hold of wherever possible.:: Reynolds: Response Lieutenant Commander Kael Thomas Mission Specialist USS Gorkon V238010KT0
  8. (( Isle of Derom, off the coast of Iklan Cape, Trill )) O. Marshall: You're a hard woman to find when you want to be. ::Jo frowned and looked up. The quiet evening she had planned to have on the little island watching the sunset was slipping rapidly out of her fingers. She was lost in her own head, daydreaming, thinking, pondering, trying to piece together thoughts that were entirely stumbling through her mind at the best of times. ::She rubbed her forehead, massaging her temple with her index finger, feeling a headache approaching with an irregular tentativeness in his usual swaggering gait. Couldn’t she just have a moment to herself? Apparently not in this Bear-centric universe.:: Marshall: Did you not think that maybe I didn't? ::Orson turned and leaned back against the railing, clearly not giving a care about her hermetic requirements.:: Marshall: Not now. I’m really not in the mood to do this with you. Transport back to wherever you came from, please. O. Marshall: That makes a change. No witty comeback? No parry of insults? Are you sick? ::She deftly avoided his palm going for her forehead and shook her head at him; she was tired, she had a lot on her mind - obviously it came across in her demeanour. She looked at her hands rubbing over one another, then clasped them together to stop fidgeting.:: Marshall: No, I'm fine. Work is kicking my aft from bow to stern. You know, that thing that everyone else does when you’re off doing whatever you do when you’re AWOL. There, shots fired. Now, will you leave me alone? ::He bumped her shoulder with his, knocking her slightly to the side. She resisted the temptation to just slide under the railings and into the sea, beating a track out of there and try to drown herself in the process.:: O. Marshall: Come on, Lieutenant Targface is here. What's going on? Marshall: I’m not going to spill my guts for you, vulture. O. Marshall: ::He shrugged.:: Try me. Marshall: No. ::Silence slipped into the cavern between them, a respite from the prodding, before a smile that broached on sympathetic but didn't quite reach it crested the mouth of the bearded man stood beside her..:: O. Marshall: Someone's on your mind. ::Her lack of answer told him he was right; she didn't need to confirm it, he was practically gleeful.:: O. Marshall: I'd know that look anywhere. ::then, he frowned:: It isn't Sera, is it? ::Jo rolled her eyes. Oh yes, a perfectly reasonable leap in cognition to make. Idiot.:: Marshall: No. While we're on that subject, get your own friends. Better yet, get your own ship. Do me the favour of disappearing for another year. O. Marshall: That might be a reality sooner than you think. Marshall: Great, let me know when and I'll pretend to care for the evening. ::Bear grinned in response beneath the beard, knowing full well she didn't mean it as much as she actually did, then turned and focused his attention on the small island they were stood on, lights and the rousing sound of music coming from the city on the mainland. A beat echoed between them, his hands drumming an off rhythm on the railing before continuing his line of invasive questioning.:: O. Marshall: Tell me about them. Is it someone I know? Marshall: Thankfully not. O. Marshall: You've never been very good at lying. Your nose crinkles. ::He poked her ruffled feature and earned a death glare in return.:: O. Marshall: It's the Scientist, isn't it? The blonde one that looks just like the... Marshall: No, it isn't. O. Marshall: Crinkle. Marshall: Bear. ::The death glare amplified.:: Please stop with the wild accusations. O. Marshall: Stop trying to deny them. ::he waited for a split second:: Talk to me, Josie. ::He hadn't called her that in *decades*; since he'd left their home on Volan III for Starfleet Academy. A nickname she had unceremoniously dropped when she was permitted to do so. It pained her to hear it in a way she didn't think was still possible; a remnant of a time when they were close.:: Marshall: I’d rather be shot at dawn than hear that again. That was a jerk move. O. Marshall: I do what I can to get what I want. You know that. ::the bastard chuckled:: Who is she? The Admiral's cousin? Sister from another marriage? A twin? Word is they don’t get along. Marshall: Something like that. Don’t think too much about it, you’ll give yourself a haemorrhage. ::Jo exhaled and tongued her cheek. It was likely that Bear already knew - he just liked seeing how far he could push.:: O. Marshall: Look, whatever it is, you need to get it off your chest and who better than your flesh and blood. Marshall: I suppose I haven't spoken to George in a while... O. Marshall: Very funny. You can talk to me. ::She exhaled a sigh and angled an eyebrow.:: Marshall: There's no need to repeat yourself. I ignored you perfectly fine the first time. O. Marshall: I'm trying to have a heart to heart with you. Marshall: I know, I'm trying to avoid it. ::Her thoughts had been unravelling long before he showed up in her little slice of paradise. By no means was he getting under her skin again. She narrowed her eyes at him.:: Marshall: And, just to make where you stand perfectly clear, I don’t trust your intentions as far as I could shoot them out of the torpedo launchers. ::Orson laughed and mimicked her lean on the railings.:: O. Marshall: Who am I going to tell? Everyone avoids me. It's like I've got the fabled albatross tied around my neck. Marshall: I don't care. I'm still picking out the shrapnel from the last time you destroyed my trust in you. ::He dropped his head, looking almost like a little boy again.:: O. Marshall: Come on. Hit me. Marshall: Oh, don’t tempt me. ::She blew out a heavy sigh and looked out at the crashing waves. The knife to the stomach was that he wasn't wrong. Her heart spun in confusing circles for the displaced Lieutenant that had put up with an Ensign for a shadow on a limping ship, constructing a slow and steady friendship. ::They were so different. Erin was brave and resilient, an inner strength like wool wrapped around a bat’leth, steel and grit in her blood, with galaxies in a soft and kind heart, gentle smiles amidst orderless freckles, while Jo was stuck being all dumb jokes, laid-back, no game plan, tripping over herself in her own uncoordinated manner. She was never any good at any of it. ::Bear's voice cut through the noise in her head, guessing at her thought process while she chewed the inside of her cheek.:: O. Marshall: Many before you have fallen for their superiors, Jo. Many after you will do the same. ::She rarely blushed to any magnitude that was perceivable, but it spread through her cheeks like she’d had a heavy night with a tank of rum. As soon as they heated, her walls were back up.:: Marshall: I haven't and I wouldn’t tell you even if I had. ::It was just another chink in her armour to him; something to poke and prod. Bear was a born manipulator, whether he liked it or not. She could use a phaser as a paperweight but it wouldn't change what it was inside; a fact she had forgotten on too many occasions. A chuckle rippled from the man.:: O. Marshall: No, I'm sure you haven’t. Deltan pheromones are all mixed up in your system. ::Jo said nothing, and stared at her hands clasped together on the railing. Maybe the attraction had started out as just that - a complicated concoction of chemicals. Then another year had flown by while Erin was on The Ark Project, and her affection for the woman hadn't lessened any. She was still wrapped around her core. ::Bear slipped his hand onto her shoulder and she shrugged it off.:: O. Marshall: Do you want to go grab a drink with me? Marshall: No. O. Marshall: One drink. See what kind of trouble we can get into like we used to. ::There was a momentary spark of the old sibling banter she couldn't deny, and spending time away from her own thoughts was appealing. However, "like they used to" was a very broad term.:: Marshall: One drink. I actually have to function tomorrow, not laid up in bed with one of your style hangovers. O. Marshall: It's the first day of leave. I know how to restrain myself. Marshall: ::She snorted:: No, you absolutely do not. You never did. --- Lieutenant JG Jocelyn Marshall Operations Officer USS Gorkon G239304JM0 & (PNPC) Lieutenant JG Orson Marshall Former Logistics and Communications Specialist Former 451st Ranger Platoon USS Gorkon
  9. ((Genkos Sim's Quarters, Deck 8. USS Gorkon)) :: Returning back to his quarters from his busy day carrying out medical exams, Genkos plopped his cane into the rack he'd had made specially before plopping himself down on the bed. As much as he fancied sleep, he thought he had better check his messages. Shifting himself over to the monitor, he tapped at a few buttons. There were a couple of messages, one about how the Rangers were going to be folded into the rest of the crew, another about the shift patterns in sick bay, and the last one was from somebody called Tillul Sim.:: oO Dad! Oo ::Reading the message it was an incredibly formal enquiry into Genkos' health and time aboard the Gorkon. Genkos smiled - his father was incredibly personable in real life, but on paper (or PADD) he wrote in an oddly staccato manner. He thought about writing an equally staccato response - mum would like that - but checked the time. He had ages until his next appointment - the CMO had postponed their appointment, so he had the rest of the day off. :: oO Do you know what, I'm going to call them! Oo Genkos: =/\= Computer, connect me to the house of Tillul and Laxe Sim, on Betazed. Put it on my monitor. =/\= :: After a brief pause, his monitor flashed and the friendly face of his father appeared. :: Tillul: Genkos! What a pleasant surprise! Genkos: Well I have some time, thought I'd give you all a call. Tillul: You're looking well, wait until your mother sees you! ::calling off:: LAXE! GENKOS IS CALLING! ::Just off-screen, Genkos could hear his mother's faint response.:: Laxe: What? Tillul: Just a second son. ::Tillul stood up and walked off-screen, leaving Genkos to mull over his decision - he'd not really spoken to them since joining the Gorkon. Did he give them the abridged version, or the warts-and-all tale that might not paint himself in the best light. But before he could make a decision, his father returned, this time with his mother. Tillul was a tall thin man, much like Genkos, but with white hair and a face line from smiling and laughing so much. Laxe was a little fuller, but not what one would call fat, and was a little sterner of temper. Not much, but still. :: Laxe: Hello my boy. Don't you look well? They feed you well on that spaceship? Genkos: They do mum, I'm getting my three square meals. Laxe: But you do get to eat non-replicated food sometimes right? Tillul: Laxe, replication is just as safe and nutritious as grown food. Laxe: I'm not so sure. ::Genkos smirked. Some things never change. :: Genkos: So, how are things with you? Tillul: With us? We're just the same as the day you left for your ship. Nothing's changed here. Laxe: But what about you? What's jetting around space like? Genkos: Pretty exciting. I - ::Without meaning to, Genkos gave them a complete history of the his time aboard the Gorkon. Starting with the tail end of the rescue aboard Starbase 173, the construction of Tasha MacFarlane's arm, shore leave aboard the Cloud Skipper, and then a detailed retelling of his time at the Sikuna colony, from his first encounter with the Governor, to his harsh words to Dhisuia and the beating she received because of it, and finally telling them all about the fight for her life that followed. His parents laughed and cried along with him - feeling immense pride when he detailed just how he designed and attached the Ensign's new arm, feeling appalled at his harsh words to the Romulan, expressing anxiety as Genkos described his and Commander Vess' struggle to keep Dhisuia alive. At the end of it all, Genkos was an emotional wreck.:: Tillul: Son, I cannot pretend to be proud of what you said to that Romulan. But - and I'm sure your mother agrees with me here - you did everything to atone for your words. Laxe: Actions speak louder than words Genkos. And you saved that woman's life. You kept your oath and kept her alive. She wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. Genkos: But she might never have been in that position if not for me. Tillul: That's a mighty leap of logic son. A Vulcan would scold you for that. What's to say that she, or somebody else, wasn't going to get beaten bloody that day? Tempers were running high. Laxe: It was inevitable. Genkos: Thanks guys. I miss you. Laxe: We miss you too. Maybe next time, convince your CO to have shore leave here. Genkos: Maybe I will, maybe I will. Laxe: We love you son. Genkos: I love you. Tillul: We'll have to love you and leave you though - we're going for dinner at the Costanz's and I'm not ready. Mentally or physically. Genkos: ::laughing:: Have a great time. :: And with that they were gone...:: Ensign Genkos Sim MD Medical Officer USS Gorkon G239502GS0
  10. @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
  11. ((USS Narendra - Sickbay)) ::She wasn't pleased. That much was evident by the tapping foot and disgruntled expression. But all these were characteristic of the model doctor she was based off of. Protocol and following orders from Starfleet officers were subroutines that were still there. The EMH sighed. No actual air entered her lungs or exited. Just the appearance of it, an aesthetic feature to make patients more comfortable.:: EMH: Then I shall begin immediately. Silveira: Good. Look discreetly through the ships systems, nothing thorough so you won't activate security failsafes the Romulans set up. Just have a general look around for now. ::She tried not to look to annoyed. Instead nodding and moving to one of the consoles. She stood a little further off, mumbling to herself about how foolish this all sounded. But what did she know? In all honesty, she had only been active for a total of 10 hours since the ship was made operational. And it was just to check her systems and now. Which meant she was … 10 hours old! So… what did she know?:: Maxwell: Sickbay is clear. ::To Elspeth.:: Made a wee friend as well, commander. Might be helpful. Silveira: Thank you Doctor ::She nodded from her station. A hand reaching up to push back the red locks that tickled her ear. Well, that would have tickled her ear if she actually felt it. Then turned back to begin looking through the ships computers. She wasn't sure what to look for though. After all, they were vague at best instructions. But she opted to put everything back into her memory bank, ready to retrieve it on command.:: Elspeth/McLaren/: ? Zel: Well, unfortunately I see your good news and raise you the fact that I think our main team was captured by the Romulans… Maxwell: Aye, well it’s a work in progress. ::To Sil.:: Right pal? Silveira: Are you certain. ::It sounded like there was trouble elsewhere on the ship. Not that a ship full of Romulan's wasn't enough. But that doctor in her became concerned, what if there were injured? Would they be brought to Sickbay? Not likely…:: Elspeth/McLaren: ? Maxwell: The Narendra’s emergency doctor. ::He paused, turning.:: Um, what should we call you? Besides doctor….? EMH: ::she eyed the man.:: Doctor is fine. ::no sense in giving them one more thing to remember. Doctor was easy to remember. Plus she didn't have a name per say. Not like they did. Just a title for her particular program associated with this ship.:: Elspeth/McLaren: ? Silveira: Do you have a lock on the Captain’s team? Are you certain Zel? Zel: Again! Home team, captured by Romulans and.. ::He looked back at the console:: Oh shit, they’re on the move. Halvsies – half towards the bridge turbolift and half towards… I dunno, looks like deck 21 which is the… ::A sigh:: The brig. Zel/Elspeth/McLaren/Maxwell: ? Silveira: I am sorry but I don’t buy it. ::Oooo…. there was suddenly tensions rising in the immediate vicinity. The Cardassian/Bajoran hybrid met the one known as Vitor, gaze. The red headed hologram raised an eyebrow in junction with her thoughts.:: Zel: ? Silveira: I am not questioning your interpretation. To all effects they could be captured, but I know the Captain better than any of you here. Zel/Elspeth/McLaren/Maxwell: ? Silveira: I know the Captain the longest. I served with him for years. They are working on their end of the plan. It’s the diplomatic part. ::She canted her head, fingered still sifting through data. Her eyes absorbed every iota of information. While her ears soaked up the itty bitty bit of drama being drawn out in her Sickbay. But of course… she couldn't leave well enough alone. Something that seemed common for computer programs designed to interact with the public.:: Zel/Elspeth/McLaren/Maxwell: ? EMH: A great deal of confidence from someone not presence. ::she now looked over, pausing the computer.:: You know this all, it is fact? Silveira: No, I am not sure about. It’s a hunch. But I don’t think we should steer away from our focus because of their arrival. Specially now we got extra help. ::He smiled at the Doctor and shrugged.:: Our concern is with our end of the mission. At least for now. ::She wondered if there was more then just, ‘I know this person forever’ here. A deeper set emotion and feeling. The defensiveness and assurance could be taken as more for oneself, in order to convince oneself that a loved one was safe. Or a dear one. And this was the crew she was assigned too? Well, it certainly could be a lot, lot worse. Like stuck with Romulans. A group that didn't uphold Starfleet beliefs and protocols and rules and regulations…:: EMH: I fail to see the relevance of speculating one way or another. ::she spoke up. A glance between the two men.:: You should search for facts before jumping to action. Zel/Elspeth/McLaren/Maxwell/Silveira: ? EMH: Perhaps you can tell me what it is you want me to find? ::she looked around.:: I can access a great deal of the ship’s systems unnoticed. But without something more specific it's a pointless exercise. Zel/Elspeth/McLaren/Maxwell/Silveira: ? ::She looked at them, a raised eyebrow and the most obnoxious foot tapping. Then pinched the bridge of her nose. Not in annoyance, but thought. She was thinking. Thinking of what would be more useful, more effective. Everyone had an idea, a task she could easily do. Just not all at once. So…:: EMH: Sickbay can of course be secluded from the standard ventilation systems. There are manual shutoffs that wouldn't be detected by the computers. Zel/Elspeth/McLaren/Maxwell/Silveira: ? EMH: So long as what you distribute is done outside of Sickbay’s vents, it'll distribute throughout quickly and not in here. Zel/Elspeth/McLaren/Maxwell/Silveira: ? ::She nodded in agreeance. They could easily slip up into the vents from Sickbay, and crawl about till the reached the close off valve. Just beyond that and the rest of the ship will be breathing in whatever gas is put into the air. Only drawback, is any kind of detonation in the vents would trigger warnings on the bridge. So they would have to put it in a time release container or send someone one in to manually release. Which meant it was likely they would be affected. Unless you were a hologram…:: EMH: Unfortunately, anywhere else - unless also done manually - would alert the computer. ::deadpan.:: You will have to take the risk of your fellow officer being effected. Zel/Elspeth/McLaren/Maxwell/Silveira: ? EMH: I believe you have a saying, “time is limited’. Zel/Elspeth/McLaren/Maxwell/Silveira: ? TBC/TAGs __________________ EMH USS Nerandra
  12. Lt JG Serala: The Hunt ((Bridge, Deck 1, USS Atlantis, NCC-74682, In Orbit around Lydor V)) Brell: Alright everyone, the hunt has begun. We aim not to destroy that ship but capture it and recover our people aboard. Dermont: response Serala: Au’e Riov! (Romulan: emphatic affirmative; Aye, Captain!) Brell: Take us out of orbit, signal The Observer, and our shuttle that we are leaving for awhile. :: Serala had forgotten again that she was supposed to be speaking Federation Standard, not Romulan; an old habit that sometimes reared its head when she was particularly excited or angry. Or, in this case, both. :: Serala: Au’e Riov! :: Sending the signal to The Observer, she turned her attention to her sensors, activation her subroutine and almost immediately getting a lock on the ship. :: Serala: I have them, Captain. Bearing 347 mark 065 mark 16. Range one-hundred thousand kilometers. Brell: Full impulse to that location! Gixu: Pulling from orbit, pursuit course laid in sir! Termine: Wait sir! Incoming transmission from Commander Tel-ar. Tel-ar: =/\= Cmdr. Tel-ar to the USS Atlantis. Emergency beam up authorized for Ensign Knight. Transport him directly to sickbay. =/\= oO Swell. And I was just starting to like that kid. Now he wants to go and pull a Raga on me! Oo Termine: I’ll need a few seconds to grab him captain, just one second! Brell: Take your time to do it right, but make it quick Ensign. Gixu: We’ve got to GO Dante, we’re going to loose them! ::The moments ticked by tensely. That ship with their chief Tactical/Security officer, and the their most senior Marine aboard it was slipping away, as was their ability to attempt to detect them.:: oO Come on! My dead ancestors could do it faster! Oo :: Not really, of course. Ensign Termine seemed to be quite capable at his job, but having smelled blood, she was like a shark ready to kill it’s prey. Of course, she couldn’t kill this prey. The Captain had already ordered them to take the ship, not destroy it. Still… :: Termine: Transport finished! Brell: Re-engage pursuit course. Gixu: You got it Captain! ::Soon they were open space and able to go to warp. Brell: Lieutenant Serala, focus your efforts on your cloak detection scheme. As well as be ready to target their engines. I know you will use a gentle touch to keep that thing in one piece but make sure they can’t go anywhere. Serala: Aye, sir! oO At least I said it in Federation Standard that time. Gentle touch, my rear. I guess if I must. Oo ::Pivoting to the Engineering station at the forward starboard side of the bridge near the doors to his ready room, Captain Brell next addressed the Chief Engineer. :: Brell: I need us ready to go to warp at moments notice, even if we are not yet in the stellar particle free corridor yet. Dermont: response ::Next he looked to the OPS station at the port rear of the the Bridge.:: Brell: Ensign, keep watch for the signal transponders of our away team members. We should be able to get a lock on them through the cloak that way as well. Between that, and Serala’s efforts we should be able to triaxlate their exact location and spatial alignment. oO Nice thinking. But, then that’s why he’s the Captain and You are still the Junior Tactical Officer. Oo Termine: Aye captain, ::Turning to Serala:: I’ll try to see if I can pick up a transponder lock from some long-range sweeps but if the ship is cloaked, it will be unlikely since most of the energy inside a cloak gets reflected back inwards but I think I just might have an idea. That just might do the trick. Serala: That would be extremely useful. What do you have in mind? Termine: :: walking over to join her at her console :: Well, remember the transmission from The Observer that I picked up earlier? If they’re still listening from that signal, we may be able to provoke a response from them. They’ll most likely disguise the carrier wave in the noise the same as the original. If we can pick it up we’ll be able to triangulate a rough place of origin and even may be able to find their cloak frequency based on the disturbances created then the signal passes through their cloak. Serala: That would be very helpful. Especially if they make it into that particle-free zone. My program loses all integrity if that happens. Termine: I’ll patch all my data through your console Lieutenant, and free up every joule of energy I can for the sweep, just let me know if you need anything. Serala: Make it happen, Ensign. I want this ship! :: As he walked back to his own station, she thought of the 27 lives lost when these robots attacked her ship Just a few short weeks ago. She had failed to detect the ship until it was just too late. That slip had cost those people their lives. She would not fail her ship and crew again. Nor would she let her best friend and Captain McKnight be captured during what was supposed to be a boarding action. :: Brell: I couldn't agree more Lieutenant. Gixu: Responses TAGS/TBC - Lt JG Serala, Security Officer USS Atlantis NCC-76482 A239412S10
  13. MSPNPC Arch Captain Rrytarr - They want to start a Holy War! ((Beta Quadrant, Par'tha Expanse, Ranae Toxas System, Lydor V, Rrenkhetha, Docks, Tempest's Herald, Gangway)) Williams: Something like that?! :: he pointed at the city that was only a few hundred meters away but was suddenly covered in a large dust cloud:: What is going on in the city! :: Though they were well underway as the new arrival pointed out to the rest of them that something was wrong in the port they just left, Rrytarr cast his gaze back out at the holy city. Eyes widening as he saw dust clouds rising up from within the heart of it. :: Williams: Should we turn back captain? Rrytarr: No, our mission is to bring the truth of the Mother to others. The clergy within the city can tend to any wounded. And if it is they're time to join the Mother it is not our place to prevent it. Williams: I understand captain, but the people might need our help. Rrytarr: And there are those in Rrenkhetha who can aid them. Do I need to question my decision to bring you aboard Alik? ::Alex held up his arms, in acquiescence and Rrytarr accepted it.:: Williams: No need sir. I will follow your orders with the Mother as my witness! Rrytarr: Good. Now..let us all focus on...::Suddenly a disturbance in the city sent up even thicker clouds of dust, debris and from where they were the highest spires of the coral temple to the Mother began to crumble and fall to the ground:: Rrytarr: By the Mother! ::Tall waves began emanating from the massive island as the tremors expanded out beyond the landmass, kicking up the seas around their holy city. Seeing the temple suffer damage he stared, wide eyed at it. Did they do something wrong? Had the Mother become upset with them so much that she would destroy her own city? These questions and more raced through his mind as he watched several ships flee the docks that were breaking apart around them. Most capsizing from the high waves and turning over. But one sailed smoothly out of the turmoil. A vessel that brought a narrowed gaze from the Arch Captain. The Gub'kôj faithship was sailing out of the bay swiftly.:: oO We didn't do anything..it must have been those cursed Gub'kôji! Oo Rrytarr: Rurog! Bring us about hard! ::He pointed a webbed finger out towards the massive faithship still in the Bay of the Mother:: Rrytarr: Brothers and sisters, I do not know why our beloved city is being harmed. But I would bet my life that it is because of that! Gub'kôj has always been envious of the Mother...and now his infernal followers have attacked our holiest of cities. Williams/Sotak/Danara: responses Rrytarr: No Alik. We are not returning to the city. We're going to sink that accursed faithship! All hands, battle stations! ::The Arch Captain rushed up the steps to the helm, wresting it away from Rurog to guide their ship back towards the mouth of the Bay. His voice bellowing out far deeper than ever in his fanatical rage.:: Rrytarr: Ready harpoons and javelins! We're going to ram that ship! ::The Tempest's Herald titled from the hard turn but quickly came about and the sails caught the wind once more. Propelling the large copper clad ship back towards the mouth of the Bay. The slightly larger Gub'kôj faithship could clearly be seen now, its mass, pushing aside smaller wooden boats and rafts trying to escape the harbor. One was even crushed under its prow. Rrytarr turned the Herald so that it would be in position to ram into the starboard side of the other faithship the moment it came out of the harbor.:: Rrytarr: If the Gub'kôji want a holy war, they'll get one!! ((Tags/TBC)) ============================== MSPNPC Rrytarr Arch Captain of the Rrenkhethan Faithship, Tempest's Herald as humbly simmed by Lieutenant Toryn Raga Chief of Security and Tactical USS Atlantis NCC-74682 Writer ID: A239410TR0
  14. ((Diplomatic suite - Two hours after the briefing)) ::Mirra had gone directly to the diplomatic suite, which consisted of several conference rooms, that happily doubled as dining rooms, and a very large sitting area. The walls were painted in warm, neutral tones. A bit of a change from the stark clinical set ups she was used to. Along with her research into the art of diplomacy, she also found a handy guide to menu suggestions...although the way it was written, she greatly hoped it wasn't outdated. "When hosting a bevy Klingon warriors for dinner, one paramount suggestion is to skip the doilies and fine china, these dainty decorations just won't do for the proud race of ridge heads- oO Wait...By the Gods...this says actually says ridgeheads...who wrote this?! Oo ::Skipping ahead:: "Consider the delectably distinguished dishes of the Gagh variety- "First up, you have the Bithool gagh, which have feet. Pungent and sure to give a kick." oO....There is more than one kind of Gagh...? Gods protect me...Oo "Followed closely by Filden gagh, which is squirmy and savory. Next, Meshta gagh, a grand party pleaser as this variety jumps around, often engaging the entire table to catch the dinner.- oO By the Four...it...jumps?! No. Not that one. Ever. Oo "The more common Torgud gagh variety just offers a pleasant wiggle, less likely to escape, and finally Wistan gagh, which has been marinating and packed in targ blood. oO That's it. I'm going to vomit. And make Theo handle the dinner...Oo. "If Gagh isn't your fancy, consider the savory and delicious Heart of Targ. A simple dish consisting of a fresh Targ heart resting on a bed of wilted greens." oO I can't do this. Oo ::She was moments away from finding the closest lavatory and swearing to never eat anything ever again when the familiar voice of Lt. Commander Shayne came across asking for her presence on the bridge.:: Ezo: ::slightly green:: Oh Shayne I could kiss you right now... ::Mirra set down the PADD, gingerly and backing away slowly if somehow these Klingon dishes would pop out of the screen and chase after her. With a final shudder, she exited the Diplomacy suite with only a small amount of relieved haste.:: ((Bridge - Deck 1 - USS Blackwell)) ((Moments later)) ::Mirra stepped onto the bridge, feeling a little less nauseated, and seemingly just in time.:: Whittaker: Very well then, let's not keep them waiting much longer. ::he moved to the rear of the bridge and stopped just as the turbolift doors opened, admitting Lieutenant Commander Ezo.:: Ah, Mirra- turns out you're going to be needed in the transporter room with me. Commander Shayne: have Counsellor Jolara meet us there- and you have the bridge. ::Shaking off the menu induced horror, she steeled herself and gave a confident nod:: Ezo: Of course Sir. Shayne: Aye, sir- I have the bridge. Whittaker: ::to Shayne again.:: We're about forty minutes from P-409 Sigma if I'm not mistaken. Begin our long range scans. ::to Pandorn.:: Mr. Pandorn- you can assist him but be ready to act in case our friends out there- ::he motioned to the image of the gik'tal on the viewscreen.:: -decide to liven up the party. Shayne: Very good, sir. Pandorn: Will do, sir. ::He starts to tap his console.:: ::Whittaker than refocused.:: Whittaker: Ensign Mandak, find Commander Thoran and see if you can assist with the security arrangements. Mandak: Response ? ::A few moments later, in the corridor, away from the bridge Mirra latched onto Theo's arm and looked at him with horror:: Ezo: We have to have Dr. G'Renn give us something to suppress our gag reflexes or we're going to...::grimacing::...dishonor all over ourselves with this dinner... Whittaker: Response? Ezo: ::fighting a gag at the memory:: I don't care if she thinks less of me. I won't make Theo, I absolutely won't. Otherwise, my first act as a diplomatic officer is going to offend a large group of Klingon officers before the main course. ::her eyes widened:: Is their entire diet based on one elaborate dare?!? Whittaker: Response? Ezo: ::scowling:: This is not funny Theo Whittaker! ::Alright, so it was a little funny. A snicker escaped as she fought for composure:: Whittaker: Response? Ezo: ::smirking:: Hey, you hired me. I'm just trying not to shame you in a public forum. ::the transporter room lay just ahead. The earlier jovial attitude muted as they approached the doors.:: Time to greet our guests. Whittaker/Jolara (if present) : Response? ---------------------------------------------- Lt. Commander Mirra Ezo, MD Diplomatic Officer USS Blackwell C239205ME0
  15. BACK - Antidis Memorial Medical Center, Lyaksti’kton (Alpha Sauria IV)) :: The sun’s golden rays danced across the labor room and lit up a few of the shiny metal instruments displayed on the table. The nurses were walking around, with purpose, carrying several tools and sterile cloths. Yiggtissi stood next to the bed. A slight look of confusion on his face. He was positive that he was somewhere else a few minutes ago. He couldn’t quite remember but it he was swear he remembered seeing himself lying on a bed. Something was happening. He felt a hand on his shoulder. :: Dr. Yogish: Yiggtissi! It is time.. :: The Saurian looked down and was met by the smiling face of his wife. As quick as they came, his previous thoughts vanished and all that mattered was this moment. It had taken almost ten months to find and isolate the gene that was responsible for Innuoasag’s infertility but with his mentor’s help, they had done it. The research team, led by Yogish and Yiggtissi, put to bed the nasty DCOP syndrome that had plagued many female Saurian’s over the centuries. It had been a win for the entire species. The Saurian Science Academy had awarded Dr. Yogish with ribbons and plaques and the all the glory that came with it while Yiggtissi had only one motive. Was it selfish? Absolutely. He didn’t care. Curing the terrible disease for the whole, of course, was their intended result but Yiggtissi only had one thought in mind. And I was this moment. :: :: Innuoasag was in the final stages of labor. Sweat had beaded up on her forehead which Yiggtissi carefully wiped way with a sterile cloth. His smiled lovingly at her, knowing that any second, the beautifully speckled egg that would hold their daughter would enter the world. A daughter they thought they would never have. They had spent weeks trying to settle on the perfect name and they always came back to one word. The Saurian language word for miracle. Jainnorra. He glanced up and saw a large group of Saurian’s plastered against the room’s window. Both families of the coupe had come together and were watching. Smiling and laughing at the pure joy of it all. :: Dr. Yogish: Ok Innuoasag, now one more small push and we can greet this wonderful miracle. :: After several seconds, the room was full of happy chatter from the female nurses and the deep chucking of Dr. Yogish. He held up the blue and white speckled egg in a large blue cloth. Yiggtissi leaned down, placing his forehead against Innuoasag’s. :: Yiggtissi: She is here my love. :: Innuoasag could not contain her happiness. Tears of extreme joy ran down her cheeks. Dr. Yogish handed the egg off to the nurses who placed it on a small bio bed. They began various scans as Dr. Yogish came around to the side of the bed and joined Innuoasag. :: Dr. Yogish: ::Whispering.:: We must thank the First One’s for this incredible miracle. I am so happy for you both. Rest and we speak later. :: Dr. Yogish stood tall and gave Yiggtissi a pat on the shoulder. With that, he made his way over to the nurses to assist them in their scans. Innuoasag closes her eyes as the two shared a kiss. Yiggtissi heard his eldest brother shouting from the outside the room. He was dressed in his Saurian Defense Fleet bdu’s and pounded on the glass. :: Guzk: Way to go little one!! :: He grabbed a passing nurse, who was clearly shocked. :: That’s my little brother and his wife in there!! :: The nurse freed herself from the brute and quickly scurried down the hall. Yiggtissi had finished his intimate kiss and was watching the interaction. He chuckled. :: Yiggtissi: Well it appears that Guzk is very happy for us. Innuoasag: :: Laughing. :: So I hear. Why don’t you greet them? I need my rest. :: Yiggtissi nodded and planted one more kiss on Innuoasag’s forehead. As he made his way to the door, he caught a glimpse of his daughter’s beautiful shell sitting on the warming bed. For Saurian’s, the coloring of the egg would be talked about for years. There were various meanings for various egg colorings that had been passed down from generation to generation. It was customary to save the egg, as Yiggtissi’s mother had done with all of her children. They were displayed, proudly, on a shelf in her home. The door’s swished opened and the Saurian doctor joined his family in the hall. His father, Tukmeeh, was the first to greet him. :: Tukmeeh: :: Grabbing his shoulders. :: I am so proud of you my son. Treasure this moment in time. :: His mother, Cairittin, was next in line. :: Cairittin: Look at that beautiful coloring. With those deep blues, she is going to be very athletic. :: Being a man of science, Yiggtissi dismissed the old “wives” tales surrounding the coloring of the eggs. Of course, there was no way to tell that just by looking. Or so he thought. Later in life, his daughter would prove him wrong. She would become the most athletic in the family, even besting her uncle Guzk in several hunting trips. :: Yiggtissi: Mother, you know I do not believe in those superstitions. Cairittin: You will see. :: She kissed his cheek and wiped away her tears. Yiggtissi made it through the rest of his family as well as Innuoasag’s, until he came to his brother. :: Guzk: Well look at you Doctor Yiggtissi. Yiggtissi: I am glad you could be here Guzk. I did not think you would be able to attend. Guzk: There was no way I would this the birth of my only niece. :: His smile faded. :: I love you brother. :: Yiggtissi was taken aback by the show of affection from Guzk. He remembered as a child, this was the Saurian who thought it was a good idea to throw Yiggtissi head first into the deep end of a large river. Simply because he thought it was funny. As he stared at his brother, he noticed the hallway fading away into nothingness. Just as before, it was happening again. :: :: Yiggtissi stood in the vast of nothingness. The previous incident before he found himself in the labor room quickly filled his mind and it all came back to him. He felt a presence but was hesitant to turn around. His wasn’t quite sure he could stand seeing the mythical God he had seen before. Slowly turning his head, he was face to face with the glowing figure of Mellitt once again. :: Yiggtissi: Please….What is this? Mellitt: These are the points in life that you hold dearest to your heart Yiggtissi. These points in time are simply what you have allowed me to show you. I am here only to help your transition easier. Yiggtissi: I have no intention of transitioning…into whatever you think you are preparing for me. If that is your only reason for existing in…:: He waved his arms in the air.::…whatever this is, then you have wasted your time. Mellitt: Your alien friends are very assiduous in saving your life. However, time is not a luxury you have. Your physical shell is dying and if you do not prepare yourself, you will not be allowed to transition and your essence will be lost forever. :: Yiggtissi rubbed his forehead in frustration. :: Yiggtissi: I grow tired of this game. Please just….leave me alone. Let me be. Mellitt: You are preparing to show me one more vision it would seem…. :: The white room began to change into something else. Walls and various other objects began to materialize around him. He closed his eyes hoping that it would all go away, hoping each time that his next leap will be the leap home. But it would not be. :: (To Be Continued) Lieutenant (JG) Yiggtissi Medical Officer USS Gorkon G239406Y10
  16. (( Clinic, Sikuna Colony )) A. Sevo: PUSH! Theletha: NNYAARGH! A. Sevo: You’re at 10 cm. Push again! Theletha: I AM PUSHING, YOU SPOTTED VERUUL!! A. Sevo: oO She’s doing quite well, I think. Oo (( Flashback - ~200 years ago - Illuna Hospital, Leran Manev, Trill )) Doctor: PUSH! Lizara: I AM PUSHING! :: Lizara was laid back in the birthing chair, trying desperately to get the little parasite out of her. Her whole body was sweating; the ionic imbalance in her skin caused by her hormones and the profusion of sweat was causing Lizara’s many dynamic tattoos to switch on-and-off repeatedly, or simply misfire. Thus, parts of her exposed skin were a kaleidoscope of moving patterns and colors. Her makeup was washing off due to the sweat, making her look like a Dead’s Week reveler. Her vibrant purple hair was horribly unkempt and matted to her skin, falling in strands across her face. :: Doctor: You’re fully dilated at 4cm. Lizara: This isn’t a date, doc. Stop staring and get him out! Doctor: *chuckling* Another couple of pushes, Lizara. You’re doing great. Lizara: HNNGH! Doctor: Again, Sevo! Push! I already see the head. Push! Lizara: YOU WANT TO TRY IT?! :: The doctor calmly ignored the snap, no doubt hearing much worse over his career. :: Doctor: I’ve got him! :: Lizara slammed her head back on the chair, thoroughly exhausted. It had been the longest twelve weeks of her life. But she still had close to a year of incubation to go through. She kept telling herself that the child would be the love of her life, but right now he was just being a pain in the...well...being a pain, anyway. :: :: The doctor quickly measured the infant. :: Doctor: 2.75 cm.; completely normal. I’ll cut the cord, clean him up and then we can get him in your pouch. Nurse, can you prepare her? :: Arguably, pouch incubation was the phase most parents looked forward to the most, as the baby was instantly accessible for all the wooing in the world. The pouch was filled with a clear, viscous, nutritious liquid that the fetus would breath & ingest for close to a year, as well as act as an infection filter. Both males and females were capable of incubation. The pouch naturally started to “unseal” during pregnancy for females. For males it was a little more complicated. Sometimes the anticipation of being a father was enough to cause a hormonal change to open their pouch; other times it required medical intervention to unseal it. In Lizara’s case, she was pretty much ready to go. :: :: The doctor soon returned and he first placed the tiny child on Lizara’s chest, letting her feel him. He was barely formed; eyes still closed, no hair yet, his skin translucent. Not even his spots had formed yet. As the doctor placed the fetus on Lizara, she couldn’t help but cry. :: Lizara: He’s adorable! So tiny! Doctor: You’ve still got several months of incubation to go through, remember. He can come out for brief periods, but needs to spend at least 90% of his time in your pouch. The first three months, at minimum, he shouldn’t come out at all. He can’t breathe very well yet. Lizara: I understand. :: She said, gently stroking the incredibly small living thing. :: Doctor: There is no father, correct? :: He said, gently picking up the fetus and handing it to the pouch nurse. :: Lizara: ...No. oO It was a one-night stand. Oo Doctor: Then we won’t have to discuss pouch-sharing. After three months or so, he may start to pop his head out and take a look around. Lizara: Maternity clothes, here I come… :: The pouch needed air circulation; not to mention the fetus’ penchant for popping up unannounced. Standard Trill maternity clothes were basically midriffs, exposing the belly for the entire incubation period. Some styles were more like oversized shirts or dresses with just the belly section cut out, or alternatively, a mesh covering the belly for more modesty but still allowing airflow. An entire subsection in the fashion industry revolved around maternity styles. :: Doctor: I’m sure it won’t bother you in the least, Sevo. :: He patted Lizara’s tattooed belly. :: Now, have you thought of a name for him? Lizara: Ajul. His name is Ajul. (( Present Time - Clinic, Sikuna Colony )) Theletha: AAARGH! :: The time had come. The baby wasn’t going to wait. Governor Khaveid had smartly fled the scene on the pretense of finding the supplies. To her surprise, Eerie decided to remain and try to comfort the soon-to-be-mother. Apparently he had helped deliver babies before. Wonders never cease. :: :: In the case of Ayiana, she had only her Starfleet Emergency Medical Course training to fall back on; which included a very smooth and orderly holographic human birth. She also had the experience of several births of her former hosts, but Trill pregnancies were quite smooth compared to most trillioids. Plus, those were a *long* time ago and in different lives. :: :: To say she was nervous was an understatement. She was sweating almost as much as Theletha. Fortunately, Ayiana’s head was buried under the blanket they placed over Theletha’s legs, so no one had to see exactly how nervous she was. She had her tricorder open, both scanning Theletha and having the procedure for a Romulan childbirth open for her to refer to. :: :: Yes, Ayiana was reading the manual. :: A. Sevo: oO This is a lot more difficult than I remember my pregnancies being! Oo A. Sevo: C’mon, Theletha! He’s halfway out! Eerie, how’s she doing up there? Eerie: Response A. Sevo: Did you manage to find a laser scalpel and blanket? Eerie: Response (( Flashback - ~100 Years Ago - Yasari Hospital, Palmyra, Trill )) :: Vereesa gently caressed the tiny newborn girl; not yet big enough to even fill her palm. Her normally librarian-esque brown hair was falling apart. Her glasses were dripping with sweat at the end of her nose. She was sweating slightly, though the whole process was much easier than Vereesa had expected. Much to her husband, Corvan’s, relief; as well as his hand Vereesa had been grasping throughout the ordeal. :: :: That only left the other one to get out. :: Doctor: Another push, Vereesa! She’s almost out! :: With practiced calm and efficiency, one of the assisting nurses gently took the first baby from Vereesa, knowing full well that she will no doubt squeeze the fragile thing into oblivion trying to get it’s sister out. :: Doctor: One more should do it. :: The doctor was way too calm. Perhaps *she* should give childbirth a try sometime! :: Vereesa: HHHNGH! Corvan: NNNGH! Doctor: Got her! Nurse, laser scalpel, please. :: Vereesa breathed a sigh of relief as the doctor finished with her second baby. Once cleaned up, the twin girls were given to their parents to hold for a few minutes. Corvan held the older one, whilst Vereesa clutched the newest one, staring lovingly into it’s barely-formed face. :: Vereesa: They’re so tiny… Doctor: Twins sometimes are. You’ve got twelve weeks to grow twice the mass. This also means they’ll have to be pouch-incubated for at least a year. Vereesa: A year?! That’s going to be exhausting. Doctor: At least you can share the load, so to speak. If you plan on pouch-sharing with your husband- :: she gestured to Corvan. :: -then I would recommend keeping them together. Both are in you, or him. It is healthy for their psychological development later in life if they remain together during their gestation. Vereesa: I understand. :: The nurses each took a baby and placed them into Vereesa’s waiting pouch, one after the other. It had already started oozing small amounts of amniotic fluid, which the nurses deftly wiped clean. Doctor: Nurse, please prepare Corvan’s pouch. :: Unfortunately, Corvan’s pouch had not opened in anticipation of fatherhood. That meant he had to undergo a quick surgery to open it up, and medicines given to him to jump-start his hormones and fluid creation. Fortunately, it only took a few minutes, and the nurses were able to open up his pouch on a side table in the room. :: Doctor: Well, that went quite smooth, for twins. Vereesa: Easy for you to say. :: She sipped on a glass of much-needed water while the other nurse gently dabbed Vereesa down with a clean towel. :: Doctor: Have you two chosen names? :: She looked at Corvan, who smiled back at his beautiful wife. :: Vereesa: Niara- :: pointing to the older girl : -and Ezal. :: pointing to the younger one. :: (( Present Time - Clinic, Sikuna Colony )) A. Sevo: A couple more pushes, Theletha, and she’ll be out. :: The Romulan woman didn’t have to be told twice. With two great groans, the baby slid out and into Ayiana’s waiting hands. She thought feeling the slimy, wet infant would be messy and disgusting, but holding it in her hands was oddly...serene. :: A. Sevo: I’ve got her! She’s beautiful. :: Ayiana lightly smacked the baby to induce breathing. She coughed a couple of times, then her tiny lungs took over, breathing on their own. :: A. Sevo: Eerie, laser scalpel please. Eerie: Response :: Ayiana cut the umbilical cord, then gently wiped down the baby. She had thin wisps of hair on her head, and her ears were just pointed enough to clearly tell her ancestry. Ayiana “finished up” underneath, then gently crawled out from under the blanket and, carefully holding the child in her arms, walked over to the head of the table. :: A. Sevo: Your daughter, Theletha. :: She was hesitant to hand over the baby cradled in her arms. Was she really smaller than this when she was born? It was hard to imagine the potential such a tiny little life would hold. As much as she loved holding it, Ayiana begrudgingly handed the newborn over to Theletha’s waiting arms. :: Theletha: Th-thank you! Eerie/Khaveid/Vrovek: Response A. Sevo: Have you thought of a name? Theletha/Vrovek: Response Eerie/Khaveid: Response A. Sevo: oO Maybe the little devils aren’t so bad after all. Oo ---------------------------- Lt. Commander Ayiana Sevo First Officer U.S.S. Gorkon Image Collective Co-Facilitator Wiki Ops Training Team V239109AS0 ---------------------------
  17. ((Sikuna Colony, Administration Centre)) ::The comm chirped and conversation started with the officers.:: Vess: =/\=Vess to Sevo.=/\= Sevo: =/\= Sevo here, Commander. =/\= Vess: =/\=What’s the ETA on those supplies? We have a very sick woman over here.=/\= Sevo: =/\= Yea...um. We hit a little snag. We made it to the clinic, but came across a very distraught man whose wife is in labor. =/\= ::Eerie understood the concern with the man. During an alternative reality Eerie had almost lost his emotional center with the birth of a child and death his Bolian partner Peiy. She had been lost during childbirth and had sent Eerie into a semi - recluse state for a long time. Eerie knew that emotional support could assist both of the for a long time in the future. While he wasn't keen to assist, he knew that the more support for them could be critical for a long time in the future.:: Eerie: We will take care of situation. Vess: =/\=And yer sure there’s no medical perssonel over there?=/\= Khaveid: =/\= They all evacuated a while ago, Commander. This is a general practice, not a hospital. It's not meant to be staffed during a storm. =/\= ::It was just a few moments later, the Governor had left to get supplies. Eerie had moved up to maintain a more close and personal contact with the woman. He was trying his absolute 'soft' face. Working on those soft skills was he was actually pretty rusty with, but he was going to do his best with her and to assist with the instruments. Eerie had gotten another crash course with his training with the Rangers. It had been a good supplement for the standard Starfleet Emergency Medical Course, but he was happy he wasn't doing the actual delivery. Sevo had much better fine motor skills that Eerie for one.:: Theletha: AAARGH! ::Sevo was actually sweating, but Eerie didn't blame her in the least. Eerie forced a smile on his face and looked into the woman's eyes and was trying to be as non threatening as possible. He lightly touched the shoulder to indicate that everything was just fine.:: A. Sevo: C’mon, Theletha! He’s halfway out! Eerie, how’s she doing up there? Eerie: We are doing just fine.::Quietly.:: :: Eerie didn't tell white lies ever often. However, sometimes if say something others might start believing it as well and that could be very important at time like this. A. Sevo: Did you manage to find a laser scalpel and blanket? Eerie: Here you are. These will help a lot. Eerie: oO Perhaps you should be come a use car salesman? Used cars? Where did that come from?Oo ::Eerie blinked at sometimes his alternative personality would drop interesting thoughts or comments into his reality.:: A. Sevo: A couple more pushes, Theletha, and she’ll be out. ::There was a push and Eerie put his hand into hers a bit awkwardly, but the meaning was apparent.:: A. Sevo: I’ve got her! She’s beautiful. ::The baby started to breath on its own and Eerie gave her a nod to let her know that she had done a good job.:: A. Sevo: Eerie, laser scalpel please. Eerie: Right.::Getting the scalpel and handing it over.:: ::Eerie took a quick glance to see the newborn and it being presented to the mother.:: A. Sevo: Your daughter, Theletha. ::The mother took the little baby. Eerie was happy for both of them. Perhaps this was not as bad as he had thought it would be. At least he didn't have shoot anyone and every seemed to be happy.:: Theletha: Th-thank you! Eerie: Congratulations, you did just fine.::Smiling a bit.::You are both little troopers. Khaveid/Vrovek: Response A. Sevo: Have you thought of a name? Theletha/Vrovek: Response Eerie: Very good. Khaveid: Response A.Sevo: Response Lt. Commander Eerie CO Ranger 451st platoon from the Rangers 3rd Division USS Gorkon A238803E10
  18. ((Bridge - Deck One - USS Blackwell)) ((Time Index: 1 month later)) :: She woke to the PADD announcing some incoming orders. She rolled over in her bed with a slight grumble, and saw that the orders came from the CO. She needed to get out of bed and ready for the day. They'd be leaving Deep Space 26 today. Off to the shower she went, with at least a pot of coffee or more down the hatch. The shore leave life was seeming to have settled in, and she needed to kick it. The shift had started as it usually did. She walked to the bridge, maneuvered to her chair at the conn, and turned it around to see Cayden. :: Mandak: Well hello there Commander. Adyr: [Tag] Mandak: Take it we're shoving off now. It feels like we've been here a real long time anyway. Adyr: [Tag] Mandak: Was starting to feel like a bum some days. Roll out of bed whenever. Hit the kitchen on the way out and grab whatever was still on the replicator plate. Reminded me of being a civilian... :: She laughed :: Adyr: [Tag] Mandak: I wonder where he - :: The turbolift doors opened, and out stepped Commander Whittaker, ready and raring to go. :: Whittaker: Are you ready, Commander? Adyr: [Tag] Whittaker: Oh yes, indeed! If I’m honest, I am raring to go! ::he turned towards the operations console and looked to its occupant, Lieutenant Commander Shayne. There was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke.:: Mr. Shayne- hail DS26 docking control and request permission to depart. ((ooc - I wrote the raring to go part, then laughed when I read the raring to go dialogue lmao)) Shayne: [Tag] Whittaker: Excellent! Lieutenant Mandak- ::he looked ahead, to the back of the Rekarian conn officer.:: - Standby on my mark to release mooring clamps and lay in a heading on four-oh-seven-mark-three-one and prepare to engage when we clear DS26’s traffic zone. :: oO That's me... Oo. She wasn't used to hearing the lieutenant part yet. She'd been running a ship before, but even then, they all used their names when talking to one another. Rank typically didn't play a role unless they were actually engaging in a deal, or something similar. She took her orders and punched them into the grid. She panned out to sector space finding the 407 grid section, the panned down to the 31st subsection. She didn't see anything unusual in the grid, and nothing would be obstructing their pattern of flight. :: Mandak: Course laid in sir, dock is responsive and waiting for orders. Whittaker: ::he turned in his chair until Jarred Thoran came into view.:: Mr. Thoran- are all of our people back aboard ship? Thoran: [Tag] Whittaker: Thank goodness! ::he grinned:: I don't like the idea of leaving people behind. Lieutenant, disengage mooring clamps and back us away from DS26. Maneuvering thrusters only. Mandak: Low and slow, roger sir. :: With the sending of electronic signals to the docking platform, the mooring clamps blew away from the hull of the Blackwell. In smaller ships, she would always wait for the tell tale shudder of the ship as the decompression would send the thing rocking back and forth, but not with these big ships. It was smooth. She actually had to wait for the dock to indicate that the guides were clear. Slowly she'd engaged the reverse thrust, and moved the ship backwards, and beginning a turn to the south. She would need to get outside of the outer docking bay walls as well, which she'd done a million times with a ship smaller than this. Made for easy work though as she cleared the outer doors and made for open space. :: Whittaker: ::to himself more than anyone else.:: To boldly go… Adyr/Shayne/Thoran: [Tag] Whittaker: Ready for anything, Mr. Pandorn? Pandorn: [tag] Whittaker: Carry on, Lieutenant. Pandorn: ? (if any) Whittaker: Please ensure that the senior staff report to the briefing room in an hour, Commander. I have our new orders to share with them. Adyr: [Tag] :: Lae watched as they began to clear the immediate traffic pattern of the other outgoing vessels. She looked across some of the registries that were listed on the information section. She was looking to see if she knew any of them. The Expanse often served as a coveted rest area for those on deep space missions. Sadly, she knew none of them. It would seem that a generation of traders had moved on, with others to replace them. The CO spoke to her again. :: Whittaker: Lieutenant, are we clear of the station's traffic zone? Mandak: Aye sir, smooth and clear sailing from here. Whittaker: ::with another grin.:: Then by all means -engage! Mandak: With pleasure sir. Warp 9. :: She spread her two fingers across the nacelle readouts, throwing the power distribution into full swing. :: Any Present: [Tag] -- Lieutenant JG Na'Lae Mandak Helm Officer USS Blackwell Andaris Task Force O238901VL0
  19. Ensign Sotak - Adaptation (( Sotak’s Quarters, Deck 5, USS Atlantis )) (( ooc: this takes place after Sotak receives her physical alterations on the second day of the voyage to Lydor V )) :: After waking up in a biobed in sickbay, Sotak left sickbay’s alpha shift personnel to hurriedly return to her quarters, where she’d intended to deal with whatever reactions she had to the alterations. It was a procedure she would only do in her solitude and not in front of others. It could be that she had no big or relevant reactions, but whichever she did have she would rather deal with on her own. :: :: As she entered her room she stood a few metres from the entrance and breathed in deeply, eyes closed. That way she calmed her bodily reactions to her hurriedness and wonderings. Once she believed she was in the proper state of mind she stepped into her bathroom and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She knew how it was a strange experience for the brain to not be able to find itself after a dramatic change in appearance, and she preferred to go through that in her own company and not in sickbay full of expecting doctors and nurses. :: :: Her new skin was paler than Jann’s had been, a result of female Lydorian physiology, if their current information was to be believed. Their skin colour would be coherent with a nearby island to where they were actually beaming in to so as to appear as travellers for their own convenience. :: :: She touched the new gills on her neck while studying her webbed hands and feet. The nurses had removed her shoes before the procedure, and she had carried them to her quarters by hand when she left, since they were no longer usable. Every of these aspects was completely out of the ordinary for her, and yet she found the experience to be… incredible fascinating. It was not like she had wished to study the Lydorians all her life, obviously, but nevertheless, the opportunity to study a pre-warp species from the Freeworlds region… She did not presently wish to be anywhere else in the galaxy, or doing anything else than this. Of course, that was a limited statement based only on what she knew or cared to recall, but it was how she thought of her situation at that moment.. :: :: When she had finished familiarising herself with her new physical appearance, she sat down on her meditation mat to begin her mental preparation for the mission. As she sat there, she noticed for the first time the itching that her new skin gave her as Ensign Jann had mentioned the day before, but she ignored it completely. She had been trained since birth to control her reactions, and scratching would not help the newly applied skin and was therefore illogical, for which reason she avoided those actions wholly. :: :: She did not pretend even to herself to having achieved anything close to a Kolinahr level of control of her emotions. Doing so would be a lie, a deception, and that was the opposite to her way of life. If there was no logical reason for deceit, she would not do so. And so she knew just how far her control went. She was far from achieving Kolinahr. Decades away from it, if she allowed herself to speculate. Sotak was young, and she was aware of this. But her path to gaining that level of control began at the start, and she had already covered a portion of it. :: :: She would do what she had joined Starfleet to do. She was beginning this other path to understanding, another important aspect of her life she wished to improve upon. She would learn, she would understand, and she would add the conclusions to her memory for later expansion of cthia. And she would continue to do this until she was physically unable to, as the other extremely unlikely outcome would be to achieve full clarity of cthia, something no one had ever come close at being able to do in the known galaxy, nor was she likely to do it either. When either outcome came, she would share her accumulated knowledge with other people. :: oO Return to the present. Concentrate. Oo :: She strained her ears for any external sound she could focus on. She breathed deep before exhaling and listening to those sounds. After this she began to bring forth all she had learned while being in the science laboratory organising and making sense of the information on the Lydorians. :: :: And finally, at the end of her meditative process, she brought forth all her internal conflict accumulated in the thoughts she’d had during meditation and allowed herself to feel the conflict she did not even know how to recognise. She took a deep breath and allowed it to fill her, holding her breath before finally releasing the it along with (figuratively) all her conflict, leaving her thoughts at peace for the moment. :: :: She was ready for the mission. :: -- Ensign Sotak - Science Officer USS Atlantis, NCC-74682 A239503S10
  20. @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
  21. (OOC: Given the traumatic events of the most recent mission, and Raven's turmoil expressed during his counselling session, I found this sim particularly powerful.) ((Holodeck 1 - Deck 11 - USS Constitution-B)) Young: ::Thinking out loud:: Right... How does this thing work then? ::Raven tapped the panel and it sprang to life. A scrolling list of the most used public programs displayed on the screen. Among the listed programs Raven noticed an old Irish drinking tavern, several hand to hand combat simulators and even suborbital skydiving.:: Young: oO Holodecks really are for maniacs! Oo ::Raven moved away from the panel and crept deeper into the large space of the Hologrid. There really was nothing to fear. No monsters intent on ripping him open and no evil consciousness hiding in the computer. Well, not anymore.:: Young: C-Computer, confirm that the Holodeck safeties are engaged? Computer: Confirmed. Holodeck safeties are online. ::He let his shoulders slump, not realizing how rigid he had been holding himself. He stood there for a time. What should he have the Holodeck generate for him? He thought back to his first moments aboard the Constitution several months before when he'd first entered this very Hologrid, eager to report directly to the Captain. Raven had babbled on to her about his transfer and called her Ma'am. She had really taken him off guard. Granted, she insisted that Raven call her Jalana, not to mention she was dressed up as a red-eyed King, crown beard and all. Raven, who had been assigned a Robin Hood-like outfit was thrust right into the action and along with Choi Ji-Hu, Doc Foster and Lieutenant Commander T'Seva who were all equally as strangely clad.:: ::Raven had no intentions of putting himself back into that particular scenario. He really had hit the ground running as soon as he arrived on the Conny and it felt like he hadn't stopped. His thoughts drifted back to the last mission. He needed to put those thoughts behind him so he could try to find a way to move on with his life. Swallowing the massive bubble of fear that threatened to swallow him whole, Raven spoke to the computer.:: Young: Computer... ::Raven receded further into his thoughts, this was the only way. :: Load up the USS Geneva for me. oO Face your fear Oo Computer: Attention. There are no records of the USS Geneva currently on file. Young: Figures. ::Rolling his eyes:: Link into the Tricorder scans that I took on my Bracer and extrapolate. Computer: Working ::The Holodeck Computer and Raven's Bracer both chimed in harmony for a moment. The Deflector Control room the the USS Geneva materialized around him, taking his breath away. The Holodeck displayed a perfect representation of the small room, complete with the destroyed control panel that Lieutenant Commander Tam had fired on in her blind panic.:: Young: ::Checking his Bracer.:: Computer, skip to time index 48:03. Computer: Working ::Raven knew what he had to do now. How to help himself heal. He had to see it for himself. He needed to reassure himself that there was no choice and he had to fire on that Klingon. The Deflector Control room faded away to be replaced with the dimly lit confines of the Jefferies tube. This was where it happened. Raven looked around, his heart threatening to burst from his chest. Behind him there was a shallow pool of blood.:: Young: Computer, extrapolate from the bio-signs and audio recordings and display as characters. ::Raven fell to his knees as the scene unfolded before him. The very same Klingon who's face had haunted him for days appeared, brandishing a Bat'leth, poised to attack. He was frozen in place above a smaller Klingon with a familiar bracer on his right arm. Raven surveyed the scene, taking in every detail. He turned and saw the frozen form of Lieutenant Yito, covered in blood and nearby lay the unconscious Katrina Tam. He turned back and saw Lieutenant Sindri and Ensign Mulligan fighting hand to hand with the remaining pirates. The Klingon pirate was moments away from cutting the Klingon-disguised Raven in half. Raven's Klingon self had his Disruptor levelled at the enemies face. There really was no way out. He had met his own Kobayashi Maru. If Raven hadn't fired, killing the warrior he would have been killed. It was also likely that the rest of the team wouldn't have fared much better after becoming outnumbered. Raven had done the right thing, the only thing he could and survived.:: Young: ::To Tam:: Damn you. ::Tam didn't answer and remained as still as the rest of the Holodeck. Raven sighed and rounded back to the Klingon. He stood up and moved over to him, face to face. The expression on the Pirate was one of hunger, satisfaction that he was about to make a kill. The man had died in battle, like a true Klingon warrior Raven reflected. By his beliefs, he was celebrating in Sto'Vo'Kor. The thought made Raven feel a little better.:: Young: ::Staring deep into the Pirates features, intent on never forgetting his face:: Computer end program. ::The scene faded away back to the sleek lines of the Hologrid. Raven stood in silence for a time before moving away toward the doors. He paused. Starfleet and possibly even the other members of the crew might object if any trace of the highly classified Geneva mission remained. Raven punched the delete all button on his Bracer, purging all record of his scans. The Geneva mission would now remain only a memory. A memory that he could live with.:: END --------------------- Ensign Dave 'Raven' Young Science Officer USS Constitution-B C239411DY0
  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. (( Flashback )) (( 121 years earlier )) // Expedition Commander’s Officer’s Log. [Stardate 227411.23]. Seventeen hours after entering the Shadows, Pellecia suffered an unexpected failure of its propulsion and the subspace cloak. Without the protection of the cloak, a subspace drag effect created by the dense tetryon fields caused sudden and rapid deceleration. Though inertial dampeners were able to compensate, several systems were damaged and three crew were killed by shifting cargo. Full damage report and the names of the deceased are attached. Let it be known that they died in service of the empire. // (( Day 2 )) (( Captain’s Quarters, Deck 7, IRW Pellecia )) :: Allek poured another glass of ale as he read through the report from his chief engineer. Besides the critical damage to the subspace cloak and the ship’s propulsion systems, their food synthesizers had stopped functioning, and life support systems were behaving erratically throughout the ship. Not dangerously so, at least not yet, but it was certainly inconvenient. :: :: To add insult to injury, much of his crew had spent the day fighting plasma fires below decks. No one else had been killed, but it had been gruelling, difficult work, and many of the ship’s crew had suffered burns. The Remans had suffered particularly badly, as they’d been expected to handle the most dangerous work. :: Allek: How long will it take to get us back en route? :: The ship’s chief engineer wore a serene expression despite the smears of some kind of soot or grease covering much of her pale, slender face. :: Treyalak: The repairs are simple enough. If we keep up double shifts, I can have the subspace cloak and warp drive back online within 36 hours. The structural damage is more severe. Without access to a drydock, we’re looking at several hundred EVAs to repair the damage to the space frame. If I get everyone who’s qualified to help, we might be able to do it in a week. :: Allek took a short pull from his glass then gestured to the still full one across from him. :: Allek: You look like you need this more than I do. :: She glanced down, looking as if she’d forgotten the fragrant drink was even there. Hesitantly, she picked it up and allowed some of the cooling liquid to touch her lips. :: Allek: I’ll make the announcement tomorrow. Start with the repairs. If we don’t get enough volunteers for the frame repairs, we’ll start pulling crew from other assignments. Dorix: There are over fifty Remans on this ship. Surely we won’t need to buden our officers with this kind of menial labor. :: The expedition commander had a slightly round face. Twenty years ago, he’d been a beast of a man. Now, his former bulk had turned largely to fat, as was common with age. Despite this, he still had the force of personality and the reputation of the embodiment of what nearly every imperial officer wanted to be. Awed to the point of fear. Cultured. Well-connected and respected with both military and the civilian leaders. :: Allek: Commander, the Remans spent the last twelve hours fighting plasma fires on three decks. I’m not sure it’s wise to compel them to do more at this point. Not without rest, at least. Dorix: It’s their duty in this life, Sub-Commander. They should be proud to have it. :: Allek had heard this tone in his superior’s voice before. It made it clear that he would not tolerate dissension. His opinion had been made known, and he expected it to be treated as an order. :: Allek: Very well, Commander. :: He’d have to offer them something in return. First the disease. Now this. He’d never seen so much tension between Reman and Romulan crew before. :: Treyalak: The sooner we get started the better, Sirs. Request permission to return to duty. :: Allek looked to Dorix, who gave a slight nod of approval. :: Allek: Dismissed, Centurion. I’ll come by in a few hours to check on your progress. :: The female stood, nodded to both her superiors, then left to return to her hectic engine room. As the door closed behind them, Allek took another long pull from his glass to empty it. :: Dorix: The commanders of Raze and Sulvian have signaled to ask for orders. :: The other two members of the expedition fleet had been eager to resume their course ever since the accident. :: Allek: If they could spare some of their crew to help with the repairs-- Dorix: I’ve decided that they should resume course rather than wait for Pellecia. :: Allek was so taken aback by this, he felt as if the blow had been physical. Without the other ships, Pellecia would be stranded here. If something went wrong with the repairs, they would no longer have the option of evacuating. :: Dorix: Further, I’ve decided to transfer my flag to the Sulvian. Sub-Commander Vulek will be pleased, I’m sure. :: The muscles in Allek’s his jaw cramped. :: Dorix: The mission is too important, Allek. We can’t allow a delay of this long. Allek: Then why not evacuate Pellecia? :: The other man laughed. :: Dorix: You can’t be serious? The ship still has every chance of being salvaged. I have no intention of abandoning it. :: Allek had to bite back the obvious response. Dorix did have every intention of abandoning it. The only difference was that he was leaving the crew behind. :: Dorix: Once repairs are complete, you will proceed on a course to our designated rendezvous point outside of the Shoals. :: It would be months before they could make such a rendezvous. :: Allek: And if we aren’t there? Dorix: Then I’ll, of course, arrange for a rescue mission. Pellecia is outfitted with enough food and water for at least five years. You’ll be fine. :: Allek had his doubts. :: Allek: When do you plan to leave, Sir? Dorix: Tomorrow morning, I think. We’ll assemble the crew in your shuttle bay to make the announcement. I believe you needed to gather them to explain your repair plans anyway. Allek: Very well, Sir. :: Dorix let out a short sigh. :: Dorix: You act as if I’ve just signed your execution order, Allek. You’ll be fine. In all likelihood, we’ll be back on Romulus together in a year’s time. :: There was that tone again. Imperious and dripping with condescension. :: Allek: As you say, sir. :: There were a few moments of quiet between them before Dorix stood to leave. :: Dorix: You have much to learn about command, Sub-commander. May chance this journey will give you the opportunity. :: Allek poured himself another drink. :: Allek: Good luck with the mission, Sir. :: Dorix nodded his approval of the sentiment, then left without saying another word. By the time Allek fell asleep in his bed, he was very, very drunk. :: (( Day 3 )) (( Main Bridge, Deck 1 )) :: Though nursing a slight hangover, Allek stood on the bridge of his ship. The transfer of command had taken place quietly before the assembly below decks. Now that it was all over, Allek was feeling strangely positive. With Dorix no longer on board, Allek felt like he was truly in command of his vessel for the first time since they’d left Romulus. :: :: The Reman Uhlan at the comms station looked up as Allek passed by. :: Drivek: Sub-Commander, Sulvian has issued a departure vector for the fleet. They’re preparing to go to warp. :: Both ships had recloaked several hours earlier, but Allek still turned his attention to the main viewer. If they looked closely, they’d still be able to see the flash of the ships going to warp. :: :: The rest of the bridge grew quiet as they all watched for the same thing. When two full minutes passed without any sign, Allek assumed they’d missed it. :: Allek: Are they still out there, Uhlan? :: The Reman looked confused. :: Drivek: Yes, Sir. I’m… getting some unusual comms chatter. I think something’s gone wrong. :: Despite his weariness, he felt his attention snap into focus as he stepped back towards the young Uhlan. :: Allek: Define ‘wrong.’ Reman: I’m… not sure, Sub-commander. I-- :: The Lieutenant at tactical interrupted. :: Kenson: I’m detecting some kind of subspace power surge in the immediate vicinity. Allek: Shields up! :: The response was automatic, as was the tactical officers quick hand movements. The hum of the ship’s shield generators was a comforting one, but any relief it brought was short lived as a green and orange fireball suddenly erupted several hundred meters ahead of them. They all knew what that meant. :: Allek: Which ship was that? Kenson: I’m not sure, sir, but I think that was the Raze. Allek: Scan for survivors. Drivek: Sir, receiving a message from Commander Dorix. Audio only. Allek: Put it through. :: The Commanders tension-filled voice filled the bridge, though it was badly distorted by some kind of interference. :: Dorix: =/\= ...interfered with the warp field...unable to...system failure...are abandoning ship...standby for- =/\= :: A second explosion on screen cut short the commander’s final words. This one was closer than the first, and the resulting shockwave caused the Pellecia to shudder beneath their feet. :: :: The silence on the bridge was deafening, and felt like it lasted for an eternity. Allek finally broke it to issue orders. :: Allek: Any sign of survivors? :: The sounds of several consoles being worked came to his ears, but no words. He repeated the question. :: Kenson: No, Sir. No lifesigns detected. No signs of shuttles or escape pods. Drivek: Nothing on subspace, Sub-Commander. :: Allek walked slowly to his raised command chair, fearing his legs would collapse before he made it. They didn’t, but it had taken a monumental effort. He sat deliberately, then took two deep breaths to center himself. :: Allek: Keep scanning. :: It was the only order he could think to give for several minutes. What else could he say. The bridge crew were just as shocked as he was. Despite his failings, Dorix had seemed like the kind of indomitable man that would live forever. His sudden and senseless loss would stun the entire crew when it became known, as would the loss of so many other loyal officers and crew. :: Allek: Uhlan Drivek, send word to Centurion Treyalak to halt all repairs and to report to my office. Immediately. === Sub-Commander Allek Tr’Rehu Commanding Officer IRW Pellecia (as written by @Evan Delano) T239007ED0
  24. ((Runabout USS Farrow)) :: For Dante Termine the adrenaline of open combat wore off soon after the final decompression fire from the robot vessel snuffed itself in the void of space. In it’s place, there was left only the anxieties of a new placement, made infinitely more unnerving by entirely singular arrival. After all, seeing your new ship in pieces wasn’t the homecoming any Ensign wished. Dante drummed his fingers, a bad habit he had never been able to quit. Dane glanced at his coms panel. It was still full with continual damage reports and all-green check-ins from the marines aboard the Atlantis, but for now there was nothing that anyone aboard the Farrow could do.:: Termine: oO Fighting… all this fighting. First on the simulator and the first thing I do on my new assignment is fire on an enemy ship? I joined Starfleet for peace, not for fighting… Could I have been wrong about enlisting? Was Starfleet just an army in disguise, like all of it’s opponents say? Oo :: Dante snapped back to his console when a hail came in. It was a request to lower shields and allow beam-in which Dante did, upon order from CommanderLydra. a few seconds later and Dante was squinting as a transporter beam glowed to in the centre of the room. It solidified into the form of a Bolian male, wearing the uniform from the Command division from Starfleet, and the rank insignia of a Commander. He proceeded to immediately clasp hands with Lyldra, join their elbows and press their heads together. A Bolian courtship customs, something Dante had seen before, but never quite like this. Dante watched as the two Bolians held each other close for just a moment, and in their eyes he saw only one thing, love. It was that very moment, that all the anxiety melted from Dante. If this was to be his CO, everything was going to be ok. Because even in that small moment Dante saw that Commander Brell, was a man knew love. He was a man Dante could follow. :: :: A few seconds later, Commander Brell turned Sotak and Termine. :: Termine: Welcome aboard captain! ::Dante, remembering himself, leapt from his chair to stand at full attention :: Brell: I thought I’d welcome you both to the crew here. :: He smiled at them both. :: Sotak: We understand your inability to greet us before sir, the Atlantis seems to be full of tasks to repair it and it of course takes precedence. Termine: With all this going on, thank you for taking the time to welcome us sir. What can we do for you sir? Brell: As you know towing the Atlantis back will take another day, and for the time being you likely to be more comfortable here. Sotak: About that, sir, I was wondering if there was something we could do to help the current situation on the ship. :: Dante nodded at his peer’s words before voicing his agreement:: Termine: Aye sir, I second that sentiment. Brell: If you’d really like to join in the repair details we can have one of the shuttle pilots transfer over. Sotak: Yes, sir. At least speaking for myself, I would like to be of some service with the ongoing repairs. As a science officer I'm not sure I can do much, but I am capable enough to handle basic repairs and be able to relieve someone from the engineering personnel so they can get some rest, as they will surely need. Brell: Response Sotak: Thank you, sir, I will arrange it. (( Two days later, Etherieal Pleasures bar, DS26 )) :: Dante held his shoulder as he rolled it in it’s joint. He had spent the last two days cleaning and repairing the corridors of the Atlantis, assisting in the repairs of the ship. Not being an engineer himself he had spent the better part of that time cutting and clearing debris from the halls and the strain on Dante’s muscles could be felt. On the stool beside him sat a PADD as well as a long-stemmed glass of Betazed wine. It was good stuff, and properly alcoholic too, just want Dante wanted to dull the throbbing in his arms. On his PADD was a crew manifest, faces and names of all his new shipmates and hopefully his new family.:: Termine: oO A new family huh? I wonder what they will be like … Oo :: Out of the corner of his eye, Dante noticed at a table a face he had only moments before scrolled past on his screen. Ensign Thayon Jann, the ship’s counselor . Looking for friends and noting that the ship’s counselor was probably a good person to get to know, he decided now was the time for introductions. Dante walked over, his drink in hand and approached Jann’s table:: Termine: Excuse me, Counselor Jann? Hi, I’m Ensign Dante Termine. I’ve just been assigned aboard the Atlantis. You know, one of the ones that arrived on the Farrow? Is this seat taken? :: Dante gestured to a chair beside the man:: Jann: response Termine: I hope I’m not interrupting anything, I just wanted to speak to you about the Atlantis and it’s crew. This is my first posting and I’m a bit nervous of running into any [...] pas. I’ve never been part of a crew before, or even worked on a ship so I’m a little nervous I may be out of my element. ::Dante chuckles:: I grew up around diplomats so regrettably I feel more comfortable in my dress uniform than my civvies. Jan: response ___________________________ Ensign Dante Termine USS Atlantis OPS Officer A239503DT0
  25. (( Agricultural Administration Building - Ih’aesn - Sikuna )) :: Nugra was caught between feeling surprised by the fact that their situation had gone downhill to realizing that it always went downhill. Yiggtissi's suit had been compromised and the governor of this city was dead. He had two Starfleet officers to protect in case the colonists became a mob. He was not in the mood to kill anyone at present. :: :: Stepping out into the hallway while everyone followed their assignments, Nugra pulled his PADD out of his pocket to quickly get an idea what was going on with the other teams.:: :: There was a strange tickling in Kaji's mind as she neared the compound, like a familiar presence, and she slowed to pinpoint it. She frequently recognized the sounds of people's mental "voices", but not just a sense of presence. Stretching her telepathic senses, she searched for the source, but it seemed far away to the north. A mystery for later, then. :: :: Talia pushed her way through the Admin building's doors, grateful for the shelter. There were only a few military members around, most non-essential personnel having been sent home. A guard scanned her badge, as she was a civilian currently and not in any uniform. She traced her way through the corridors to the governor's office. Atlai had told her to meet the Starfleet team there. But when she turned the corner and looked down the hall, Talia stopped cold. :: :: It felt like her mind had frozen, incapable of actually processing thoughts. The figure at the end of the hall loomed over his surroundings just as he loomed over both her dreams and nightmares. The damn Gorn would just not leave her in peace! Was he to haunt her waking hours as well? Countless nights spent curled up in bed, too afraid to go back to sleep and relive his death yet again wasn't enough? Or the other nights where she wished she COULD get back to sleep to continue a different sort of dream, where they were just together? :: :: It took the mundane action of him checking his PADD to snap Talia out of her stupor. This wasn't a hallucination, it was Nugra. In the flesh. That stupid, beautiful, scaly flesh. :: :: Upon seeing a report that negotiations were not faring well, Nugra let out a grunt of irritation. Hopefully, Sevo was not going to punch a Romulan...again.:: :: The irritated grunt got through the last of Talia's disbelief. :: Kaji: :: striding towards him:: Oh gods, oh gods. Nugra! :: She threw herself at him, probably before he even knew it was her, but she didn't care. Decorum be damned, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. :: :: It was the scent at first that he detected but his brain refused to register it as being true. The PADD had his attention but it was the squeal of her voice and the arms that tried to wrap around his bulk that broke him out of the thought and into shock. He [...]ed his head to see what had gotten a hold of him and was met with a head of curly hair, black eyes, and the happiest grin he had ever seen. :: Nugra: oO Talia! Oo :: A million emotions soared through him in the half a second his mind hesitated. She was on Obsidia Colony and he had been long gone, hidden in the depths of the Gamma Quadrant on the USS Athena. How was it possible that they had met on a Republic world. His mind struggled to form words to speak to the woman he thought he had lost forever. :: :: She couldn't let go, even though her feet were dangling six inches off the floor. She just buried her head in his neck and hoped he couldn’t feel the tears. :: Kaji: How...How are you even alive? :: There were no words. How could he say anything to her right now when his heart felt like it was going to explode. He wrapped his giant hands around her waist, hefted her to eye level and gave her a crushing hug of joy. Only one word got out of this lizard. :: Nugra: ::choked up:: Talia. Kaji: You freaking lizard, you couldn’t even send me a note, like “hey I’m not dead anymore, so you don’t need to keep grieving”-- not that I was grieving your ugly mug, because you’re too stupid to…killing yourself like that to “save everyone” or whatever. :: Talia felt that her points were being undermined by the sobs breaking through and garbling her words. :: Nugra: Starfleet Intelligence…. Kaji: :: freeing one hand to slap the back of his head:: That is an astoundingly terrible excuse. Nugra: I should have sent you a note once I was released but...I didn’t know what to say. Kaji: Anything. Anything would have been good. Nugra: ::sheepishly:: Hi, Talia. I am alive. Kaji: :: mumbling as she buried her face in his neck again.:: [...]. I missed you. Nugra: I missed you too. :: Another voice broke into the conversation that snapped Nugra back. :: N’Lee: ::grinning:: As sweet as this is, Captain, I need my doctor. Please put her down. :: Chagrined, Nugra put Kaji back on her feet and gave his uniform a dutiful but too long tug before straightening back to business. :: Nugra: Of course, Sub-Commander. :: To Talia:: Doctor Kaji. We seem to have an outbreak and one of my crew members may have become infected. Shall we? Kaji: :: with a lightness she hadn’t felt in over a year, she laughed,:: Yes, Sir. :: As Nugra walked past N’Lee, he heard the Romulan whisper to him. :: N’Lee: ::grinning:: Don’t worry, Nuggs. I won’t tell the Admiral you were hugging doctors in a middle of a crisis. JP By… -- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Captain Nugra Taskforce Security Liaison Publicity Facilitator The Archivist '17 Simming Prize Laureate USS Gorkon, NCC-82293 V238008N10 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ & --------------------- Dr Talia Kaji Civilian Medical Doctor Romulan Vessel, Mhr'Vaat E239008TK0 ---------------------
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