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I like how some of our newer Gorkonites give us an insight in their family life. ((Astrometrics, Deck 17, USS Gorkon)) Vesela’s mouth opened and closed like an Elaysian Giant Koi, and she was relieved that Taelon spoke next. She knew her first day would be emotional, but she had no idea that it would also involve getting stuck in a new timeline with Borg. Taelon: You – um, you look better than before, Miss…? Sevo: Lieutenant Commander Ayiana Sevo. Mission Specialist by occupation, scientist by trade. Pace: And I’m Ensign Vesela Pace! Very new here, just graduated, happy to be here despite… everything. She mentally kicked herself. She wished she could stop making poorly timed jokes, but that day would obviously not be today. Although it was always nice to meet other scientists! She was glad Lieutenant Commander Sevo had joined them. Taelon: Ah, Taelon – nice to meet you both. I just transferred, so – this is, um, hopefully not the norm…? Pace: Well, Starfleet is all about exploring, but I agree that I was… not entirely prepared for the mission to take this particular turn. The two younger officers looked to Sevo hopefully. She had been there much longer than both Vesela and Taelon, who had only been there for about a standard Earth day now. It somehow felt like much longer. Sevo: ::She smiled, trying to put the two at ease.:: Well, I won’t lie and tell you this is an isolated incident – it’s not. We’ve had our fair share of galactic emergencies and encounters, but just as many good things, too. Remember, when you put on those uniforms – ::she pointed to the pair:: – you accepted the risks of being in Starfleet. This is one of them. Vesela’s grandmother’s voice rumbled in her mind. Why go to Starfleet and put yourself in harm’s way? Elaysia has stars in the sky just like everywhere else! Keep your head out of the clouds, Vesela. The stars aren’t going anywhere. She looked at her science blue uniform and bit her lip. oO This is why. In Starfleet, differences can be made. People can be helped. Entire timelines can be helped. Oo She had joined Starfleet to study science. Now, she was discovering that it was also to help others with her discoveries and skills. Even though she was scared out of her wits right now, she knew she wasn’t alone. The Gorkon would fix this because that’s what Starfleet does. And she would see her family again. She realized her eyes had gone misty again and shook her head. Pace: S-sorry, I was just thinking about… ::Beat.:: Well, about how we can get out of this, I suppose. Sevo: I know it looks daunting right now; even impossible. How can one ship make a difference and change everything? It’s not the ship; it’s the crew on it. We make the impossible possible. Taelon: I hope you’re right, Commander. Pace: Although, from what I’ve seen so far, there’s no other crew I’d rather be stuck in a Borg-dominated universe with… so there’s that at least. Sevo: ::Ayiana took a sip of her coffee and smiled again.:: You’ve no idea. This crew is my family. You do anything for family. Vesela understood that feeling well. She was glad that this crew seemed to be so tight-knit. Family was incredibly important on Elaysia, which her grandmother had accused her of forsaking. Here… maybe she could find another way to ground herself now that Elaysia was… Sevo: It may look daunting right now, especially if you’re right out of the Academy. ::She nodded to Pace.:: Remind me to tell you about *my* first day on the Victory sometime. Vesela watched Taelon’s eyebrows raise. She had no idea first days in Starfleet were so apparently dangerous! Taelon: It was, um, instructive, I take it? Vesela was always the bluntest of her siblings. She continued to be blunt at Starfleet Academy. Pace: What happened? Sevo: Extragalactic horrors bent on eating everything. Talk about “trial by fire.” Taelon: Extragalactic – ::A pause; he’d been typing as he listened, but now stopped that completely as he tried to imagine. Had he heard of such things? Hard to tell; for all his memory, the ranks of ‘horrors from beyond the stars’ had more creatures in it than he’d prefer (which was none).:: That’s, ah, quite something to face. Pace: That sounds horrifying! ::She paused, wondering whether to ask about the data that they’d gotten from the extragalactic creatures. While cell biology was one of her specialties, cell biology also had a place and a time, which was probably not now. She could scour the database later.:: Well, I’m glad you’re here with us on the Gorkon now, that first day probably helped prepare you for anything! Sevo: The point is, we’ll get through this. We’ll get broken and banged up, but we’ll get back up and try again. Just remember your training, and if you have any questions on anything, feel free to ask around. Taelon: Thank you, Commander. Pace: Thank you, Commander, this has been helpful ::Beat.:: and calming. It’s been nice to decompress a bit. Sevo: Response Taelon went back to work, and Vesela watched for a moment before going back to her station as well. Time to get back to work. The faster they worked, the faster they could find answers hopefully. The green planet still glowed almost malevolently on her screen. She took a few more minutes just to stare at it. As Taelon had said before, these Borg were different from their Borg. This was a brand new timeline, so they had plenty of time and potentially even Commodore Johnson’s help to become something new. Taelon: Mmm. They’ve been here for some time, certainly. Enough to have stripped most of the surface. Look, here — The big display of New Cyndriel zoomed into a spot on the northern hemisphere and they could see the Borg influence on the planet in detail. Vesela almost wished the sensors weren’t as top-of-the-line as they were. Sevo: Response Taelon: If we overlay the planet’s scans from our timeline, you can see — ::He had the computer do so; the contrast was frightening. Where they now knew Borg had littered the surface was a pine forest, a village, a beautiful lake — all now rendered dull and black-brown. The Borg had drained the lake, stripped the trees, and now what was doubtless a drone center sat where the village once had.:: They’ve had plenty of time to get settled in, but haven’t stripped the planet completely. Vesela hadn’t ever thought she would see the Borg’s destructive abilities first hand, but there they were on screen for the three scientists to see. She shuddered at the sight. Pace: That would put the estimate closer to 13 to 15 years then. That they’ve been like this. Sevo / Taelon: Response Vesela stared at the screen a few moments longer, then wondered aloud. Pace: If they were going at the Borg’s normal pace. In this timeline though, it seems as though they’ve had no resistance. Or… ::She paused, hoping that this was wrong. She willed this new universe to prove her wrong.:: resistance stopped early on. Could these Borg be slower now that they seem to be present almost everywhere? Vesela wished that there were signs of life, but at least they might have the element of surprise against the Borg if they weren’t expecting resistance. Sevo / Taelon: Response — Ensign Vesela Pace Science Officer USS Gorkon (NCC-82293) G240106VP4

We have an NPC who has quite a bit of energy and personality who never fails to make me 🤣 And the interplay between Sparks and Brom is just A+

This was a heartwarming read this morning that really helped me see into the heartbreak that my fellow Doctor has been carrying around quietly. 💔 @Araxxu Vahin (Vahin’s Quarters, Floor 26, Anchorage Tower, Denali Station) Vahin couldn’t help but smile as the face of his twin sister appeared on the viewscreen in his apartment. When possible the two of them rarely went more than a few days without speaking to each other. During their childhood he and Arixu had been very close, and had spent most of their time together, and it wasn’t until their teenage years that two started to drift apart. Arixu was everything Vahin wasn’t. She was taller, stronger, better looking and had always been so sure of herself, so confident and outgoing. Unlike him she had little trouble making friends as they aged. Where Vahin spent much of his free time alone his sister always had a large group of admirers around her. But throughout the years she had also been his protector, whenever he needed help he always knew he could turn to Arixu. Arixu: Hey brother, how are you holding up? Arixu was going through the same thing as he was but yet she was the one worrying about his feelings. Vahin: I’m fine Ari. I mean it hasn’t been easy but I’m trying my best to stay positive. Arixu: I know you are Arax. It’s just you’re the most like dad and… He didn’t mean to snap at his sister’s comment but being reminded of how emotional he could be only increased how emotional he was being. Vahin: The most sensitive you mean. Arixu: Yes sensitive, but also caring and brave Arax. Don’t forget that. Vahin: ::sigh:: I don’t feel very brave. Arixu: Says the Bolian who’s living on an unexplored ring world in the Aavaro Wilds. And you’re the only member of the family who didn’t join the family business. You don’t think the rest of us every thought of leaving, of doing someone more than working in an undersea mining facility? Vahin: Well… Arixu: You were just the only one brave enough to leave. Vahin: And now I’m so far away when mother is sick. Arixu: Araxxu, you’re a great doctor but you can’t perform miracles. Even if you were here mother would still be sick. Vahin ran a hand over his bald blue head as the thought about Arixu’s words. She wasn’t wrong, Vahin could do just as much here on Denali as he could back home. In fact, his role as a doctor in Star Fleet had opened doors for him that he might not have had access to in another world. Araxxu: How is mother doing today? He knew that the silicon-based virus that was killing his mother would move slowly. She would begin to feel worse and worse as time progressed until finally she would become too weak to do much of anything. He shivered at the thought of those final days. Arixu: She seems fine today. Working just as hard as ever. Drevu suggested she place herself in a transporter buffer and she spent an hour telling him what a stupid idea that is. She made some good points, who knows how long she’d have to be in there and she’d rather not come out to find we’re all old or dead. Vahin chuckled even if the thought depressed him. It was just like his older brother to suggest using the buffer, he was nothing if not practical and often overlooked the emotional costs of things. Araxxu: And what about you Arixu? How are you holding up? Arixu smiled at the question and took a moment before answering. To Vahin, his sister seemed no different than the last time they spoke, perhaps she seemed a bit more tired but that could be said for everyone in the family these days. But he knew she was just very good at guarding her emotions. Arixu: I’m doing okay Arax. There’s lots about the company I don’t know..I..I just thought I’d have more time to learn from mom. I can’t see a world without her in it. It’s so… For the first time in a long while Vahin saw the brave mask that his sister wore start to slip. She stopped speaking and took a few deep breaths. Araxxu: Whatever happens we’ll get through this as a family. Arixu nodded and gave Vahin her best hopeful smile. Arixu: We will. Now, tell me something about Denali. Araxxu: Well we did just have our awards ceremony… And so, sister and brother spent the next hour in pleasant conversation secure in the knowledge that whatever the future held they would face it together. NT/END <><><><><><><><><><>=/\=<><><><><><><><><><> Lt Jg Araxxu Vahin Medical Denali Station D240006AV3

I think this was a tough sim for an Ensign to write. And I think they both gave a great interpretation to the scene. @Alora DeVeau and @Daniel McGillian Jr (Soldotna, 3rd Floor, Upper Security )) Mac waited in the conference room for Commander DeVeau, they had to do her security reverification interview and Mac had pushed it back as far as possible to give Commander DeVeau as much time as possible to recover from her child's birth. Mac had sent flowers down to her recovery room with a congratulatory note attached. He would have gone down in person had he not been breaking up a brawl between two new crewmen at the time. Apparently one of them had accused the other of cheating in a card game at Möbius, an establishment in Denali. Mac sighed, as he skimmed through his PADD. Commander DeVeau had already gotten to him all of the other requirements for the clearance reverification process, all that was left was this interview. McGillian: She shouldn't be having to raise that baby alone. The comment went unheard, but there was no room for more contemplation, because at that moment, the doors parted and in stepped the very woman for whom he was waiting. A couple of months had passed since Shyla’s birth, and although she still slept quite a bit, taking long naps in the morning and afternoon, she was far more alert than she had been even a month prior. Despite being on duty, Alora took her child with her when she could, and when she couldn’t, Bini was on call to take on her duties as a nanny. This particular requirement didn’t need her to leave Shyla with the Bolian woman she’d vetted and subsequently hired, so Shyla made the trip with her. She was snuggled in a carrier, a bottom tie wrapped around her waist, and two others criss crossing in the back then coming around her ways to the front where a neat bow kept them from unravelling. The dark haired infant was quite content, wide, black eyes peering at the world. The carrier itself was almost like a piece of artwork, a dark purple background scattered with cherry blossoms and Japanese cranes. On one shoulder, a bag hung down with similar images, though the background on it was a deep, emerald green. Going anywhere without baby supplies was never wise, and despite knowing they didn’t intend on being too long, Alora wasn’t going to chance it. Smiling as she entered the room, she nodded to the Rodulan, then sat the bag down on the table while she settled into a chair. Although the baby was no longer on the inside, she had to forgo crossing her legs, for the child still blocked the ability to do so. Instead, she perched upon the forward half of the chair, her emerald gaze studying the Ensign. DeVeau: Good to see you. McGillian: Good to see both of you, Commander. How are you two doing? Alora nodded, one hand automatically patting the baby’s bum where it rounded out the bottom of the carrier. DeVeau: We’re doing well, how are you? The young man hadn’t been at Denali for very long, but he’d already found himself on a mission soon after. She’d read the reports, of course, but had been a bit disappointed she hadn’t been able to join, as the place offered a plethora of unique flora and fauna to study. Samples and scans brought back were quite interesting to review, and she hoped to make a planned trip out there to get more time in at some point. McGillian: I'm doing well, thank you. Mac had gotten into a better routine lately. He had resumed his exercise schedule and routine, and made sure he had been finding time to actually get some R&R when he was off duty instead of just working himself to exhaustion. DeVeau: So, you said I needed to interview for the final portion of my reverification? McGillian: Yes, hopefully this won't take very long. Please let me know if you need a break at any point. DeVeau: Don’t worry, I will. Alora had no problem speaking up for herself, and never had. She’d always had confidence for that at least. Her interviewer could start at any time, but a distraction presented itself and he took it. Mac waved at the baby and smiled. McGillian: ::to Shyla:: I'm not sure you have a clearance level for this conversation, but I'll clear you for this one. ::pause:: ::Points finger at Shyla:: No leaking Federation secrets ok? Mac offered the Commander a smile. He admired her strength. She seemed to have everything together, despite loss and the challenges of having a newborn and the position she carried. McGillian: Ok now that we've gotten the new recruit cleared for this conversation. DeVeau: I’m glad. I was a little worried. She chuckled softly. The man had a sense of humour, which was good, and already endeared him to her . Mac pulled up his PADD, and pressed a few buttons. McGillian: Do you need anything before we begin? I can get you something from the security replicator if you'd like? Lifting a hand, she waved it and shook her head. Deveau: I’m fine, I have water in my bag, and I ate right before coming. As had Shyla, who, since her needs had been met, simply cuddled against her mother, her dark eyes taking in the blurry world that surrounded her. Soon enough, she would likely fall back asleep, but for now, she simply lay quietly against her mother’s chest. McGillian: Alright. DeVeau: So what sort of questions do you have for me? McGillian: Most of them pertain to relationships and Federation security. That sounded like questions which were easy to answer. Shifting a little to make sure the child was in a more comfortable position, she nodded encouragingly. DeVeau: Please, go ahead. Mac didn't want to ask some of the questions, it was just awkward. He couldn't delay it any longer. So he dove in. McGillian: Commander, do you currently or have you ever had business or personal relations with an intelligent lifeform whose disposition is hostile to the Federation? DeVeau: Not that I’m aware of. If McGillian was embarrassed, Alora didn’t show any herself. For her, this was simply a man doing his job, and resisting wouldn’t do any good. Besides, she’d been through this before. McGillian: Do you currently have any ongoing intimate relationships with any Starfleet Officers or Enlisted Personnel not listed as a spouse? Most people likely baulked at this question when they first heard it, but it, too, was pretty standard, and Alora had nothing to hide. Shaking her head, she replied honestly. DeVeau: I do not. McGillian: To your best judgement, do you have any prior relationships that ended badly that could lead to a compromise in the security or safety of your crewmates or the Federation? Alora had only been in two, and while the first had ended badly, there had been no bad blood between them. Saveron had never been the type to hold resentment, nor had Alora. She still cared about the man, and neither of them would ever do anything to compromise the security or safety of anyone in Starfleet. DeVeau: No. McGillian: That one kind of makes you wonder how many ex lovers have come back with a vengeance in the Federation. ::Nervous Laugh:: She laughed softly, but yes, she could imagine that it had been an issue at one point, which was why the question had been formulated and was not part of the standard set asked when checking security. DeVeau: It’s better to cover all your bases. Is that all you have for me? McGillian: Just a few more questions Commander. DeVeau: Of course. While Alora didn’t particularly want to spend all day there, she was also not particularly antsy to get out. McGillian was just doing his job, and she wouldn’t make it harder than it had to be. Mac stared at the next question on the list longer than necessary. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. This was one of the ones he had been dreading. McGillian: Um… DeVeau: I understand some of these questions might not be easy to ask, but please know that I’ve been through this before, so I have an inkling of what to expect. Sometimes they got really personal, and that was part and parcel. If you were an officer, they had to make sure nothing could put anyone in a compromising position. DeVeau: Please go on. McGillian: Yes Sir. ::Loudly Sighs:: Do you have any deceased family members who died as a result of Federation operations, whether friendly or hostile? If so, do you hold any resentment or hostility towards the Federation or its representatives for their death? Mac stared at the widow across the table from him. He didn't have the clearance level to access what exactly happened to the Commander's husband. He hated asking the now single mother this question. He knew it was necessary, and part of his job, but he didn't have to like it. She knew it was coming, and she knew McGillian had to ask it. From the look on his face, Alora could tell the man hated to pose such a question, and even if he couldn’t see the classified files, he’d likely read between the lines enough to know that something had happened to her and her beloved. DeVeau: Yes to the first. No to the second. She sat there quite still, the silence that descended as her words faded away spoke far more volumes than her voice. Her face settled into practised composure, hiding anything and everything behind a carefully cultivated mask. Mac felt his mouth go dry, and his palms sweat. He had to reiterate the second part of the question, since she had family who had died, protocols dictated he must ensure the officer was being truthful. He wanted to vomit, and despite his best efforts, Mac knew his facial expression was one of sadness and a bit of disgust at having to do this line of questioning. McGillian: Commander, are you sure that you hold no resentment, and no hostility towards the Federation or its representatives for your husband's death? McGillian: oOThis sucks, this just sucks. Oo DeVeau: I hold no resentment. McGillian: ::Frowning:: I'm sorry Commander, but can you please elaborate on your reasoning. She wanted to sigh, but refrain. Alora knew McGillian was only doing his duty, and his pained expression reflected his ill at ease at such questioning. The masked slipped, sadness creeping through the crackles before she was able to seal them, but when she spoke, it rang with sincerity. DeVeau: We were both Starfleet officers, and we both knew what we were getting into when we stepped into this life. Risk is a part of it. If I were resentful, I wouldn’t have remained. McGillian: Thank you Commander. I appreciate your honesty and forthcoming. Do you need a moment before we finish the last few questions? DeVeau: No, thank you. Even though she had prepared for it, Alora found her desire to end the conversation quite acute. It was better to simply plough through and finish once and for all rather than linger over what was to come. Mac nodded and continued. He was sure he struck a nerve, the brief moment that the Commander had dropped her normal visage encouraged him to finish the last questions as abruptly as he could. McGillian: Commander, if an enemy of the Federation were to offer you something of immense personal value… ::Glances at DeVeau:: in exchange for Federation secrets, are you certain you would be able to deny the offer and report the incident to the nearest security officer, or your chain of command? DeVeau: Yes, I would. Of that, she was certain. She and Kalin had been dedicated to Starfleet, and both had been involved in classified missions. What they did could not be shared, nor would they do so, even at great benefit to themselves. To do so was the antithesis to their oaths as officers. McGillian: ::Nodding:: Has anything like this occurred in the past? DeVeau: No. Fortunately, Alora had never been placed into such a position, but even if she had, she knew how she would have responded McGillian: Alright, Have you ever had any… ::clears throat and shifts in his chair:: Any unreported hostile personal encounters, including intimate ones, with starfleet personnel that could lead to a breakdown of unit effectiveness or loss of life if the issue is not resolved? A single eyebrow arched upward at the question. She didn’t remember that one from previous interviews, but she supposed such questions were constantly shifting and changing based upon events that had occurred within Starfleet - or without. DeVeau: Nothing that hasn’t been reported, no. Mac nodded and continued. McGillian: Commander, do you currently or historically have any hostile relationships with any fellow starfleet officers that could lead to a disruption in unit morale or effectiveness, or could lead to the death of fellow officers, whether intentionally or not? DeVeau: No, thankfully. While Alora wasn’t friends with everyone and she’d certainly crossed paths with officers who weren’t quite so congenial, she did not have what anyone would call a hostile relationship. McGillian: I wouldn't have expected so Sir, you seem to be one of the most amiable people I've ever met. Mac gave the Commander a brief smile and nod. Alora blinked, then smiled. DeVeau: Thank you. Perhaps he sensed that she was tired, though it wasn’t because of him. The questions were simply heavy, and however subtle, the emotional toll was felt. McGillian: Almost through Sir, Do you have any reason to believe your current chain of command is compromised? If so, have you already reported the issue? DeVeau: No, I don’t, so there is no reason to report anything. Both Oddas and Falt were fine officers, and Alora had nothing but positive experiences working with them. As always, if she felt concerns, she had no problem reporting them. McGillian: Final Question Commander, All questions in this interview are to determine the reliability and honesty of Starfleet Officers. I am to remind you that no specific answer will result in immediate dismissal from duty, but intentionally lying on a security interview can result in disciplinary action, including and up to incarceration and dismissal from duty. Given that, are there any answers to previous questions that you wish to change before they are submitted. Mac looked at the Commander, his expression neutral. Part of the reasoning a security officer had to interview for this portion was that they had to judge whether they believed the interviewed officer was truthful, and submit a recommendation based on their view with the finished interview. DeVeau: No, I have answered truthfully and honestly and have no reason to change anything. She offered another smile. As harsh as some of the questions seemed, they were necessary. It was simply part of his job, and she would certainly never resent him for it. Mac placed his hands behind him resting on his lower back, one hand clasping the other. McGillian: I wouldn't have thought otherwise Commander. ::eyebrows raised, lips pursed:: Well, um do you have any questions for me Commander? DeVeau: I don’t have any at this time. She paused for a moment to study the young man, for she knew this conversation hadn’t been easy for him either, though in a different way. Mac was in a position that she did not envy, and while Security wasn’t always viewed with the same suspicion that Intelligence often was, she had no doubt this was likely one of the most difficult parts of his job. DeVeau: Thank you for conducting the interview with such grace and empathy. I know this isn’t exactly the most fun thing to do with your fellow officers. The Commander's words brought a smile to Mac's face. He was relieved having finished the interview, and not caused the widow to have an emotional breakdown in the process. His assessment of Commander Deveau was the same as before the interview. She was a kind, honest, and genuine person, who'd had a terrible thing happen to her family. Mac knew on some level his emotional response to Deveau’s situation stemmed from his own childhood. Growing up without the mother who gave birth to him had caused Mac so much pain during his childhood, and seeing someone else having to deal with the absence of a parent… broke his heart. McGillian: Your welcome Commander. Oh. I have something for you. ::kneels down and rifles through his gym bag. Alora’s smile faded, though out of surprise rather than displeasure. As the man rummaged through his bag, she couldn’t help but peek in an effort to see inside. Unfortunately, because of the child upon her belly, she could not lean over far enough to see past McGillian who blocked most of her view. DeVeau: For me? McGillian: : Well, for the Cadet. ::Stands up and walks over to DeVeau and Shyla:: Mac handed the Commander a soft plush toy starfleet communicator badge. McGillian: Please let me know if you ever need assistance Commander ::pause:: for anything. Alora accepted the toy, and when it dawned upon her what it was, she couldn’t help but laugh. She’d gotten a few things for herself as well as Shyla, but this was certainly a unique, fun, and very appropriate gift. DeVeau: How cute! Thank you. Turning the toy over in her hands, then lifted it for the baby to see. Shyla, whose eyes had drooped heavily during the interview, perked up a little at the sight of the bright coloured toy and stared at it. DeVeau: Really. Alora’s voice grew soft as she turned her attention back to the Rodulan. DeVeau: Thank you. Mac noted the change of tone from the Commander, he gave her a soft smile. McGillian: You're welcome Commander. ::Pause:: There's just a couple things for me to do on my end before I submit the interview, but you don't have to stay for that. Would you like any help with your bag? ::Motions to her bag:: Shaking her head, Alora rose and subsequently pulled the strap over her arm. DeVeau: I’m fine. It’s all part of having a baby. If you need anything else from me, just let me know. McGillian: Likewise Commander. The Science Officer cast one last smile before she turned to the door. He would never know how difficult answering some of those questions were, and she would never tell him. Those who said time would heal all wounds were wrong - they didn’t. Time simply allowed you to gain strength, because every day you had to work at simply functioning. Eventually, you moved into surviving, finally, you got to the point where you were even thriving again. The sorrow remained, she had just managed to grow stronger in spite of it. **************** Ensign Daniel McGillian Jr. Security Officer Denali Station D240104DM2 & Commander Alora DeVeau Chief Science Officer & Second Officer Denali Station & Matriarch of the 15th House Betazed M239008AD0

I've had a lot of good emails in my inbox today, and here's ANOTHER ONE that knocked my socks off. I love the little glance back at baby Hopper, I love the final mic drop, I love ALL of it. @Robin Hopper I cannot WAIT for part 2!!

It's a long one, but it's a good one. @Gila Sadar keeps telling us in the Discord that she isn't "cool" or "a badass". But she's totally wrong, and I think this proves that. Plus it also shows just how much of a nerd our beloved Mizarian is.

I audibly gasped at one point when reading this, @Rahman and Rivi Vataix. What a fantastic and exciting to welcome our newest ensign, @Niev Galanis, and lean into our Frontier Day blockbuster! 👏👏👏 (OOC: Bringing our new ensign into the action!) ((Maintenance and Storage Area, Deck 77 - Probert Station)) Having been stuffed into a maintenance locker, or rather, the equipment junction, Captain Roshanara Rahman had finally awoken and followed the tapping of someone on the other side, guiding her to a hatch. As she groped around the edges of the hatch in the dark, the hatch slowly opened with a hiss, and light began to creep into the compartment. Roshanara stepped back, prepared to defend herself in case this was a trap. Instead, though, she exclaimed when she saw the face of her guide. Rahman: Hannibal? Parker: In the flesh, Captain. Let's get you out of here... Hannibal Parker had served under Roshanara's command aboard the USS Veritas. He had come to her from Duronis II Embassy a little bit--okay, a lot of bit--rough around the edges, but through their years of service together, she had seen him become one of the finest officers she'd mentored. The last time she'd seen him was when their tour of duty aboard Veritas had wrapped up, with Roshanara heading off to the Kitty Hawk and the Delta Quadrant while Hannibal was off to the shipyards to oversee the Miranda II class development project. The hulk of a man held out his arm for her to grab as it was clear that he wasn't going to come into the compartment anytime soon, at least not through this particular hatch and not without a severe transporter accident first cutting his mass in half. She took hold of his arm and held on tight as he practically lifted her out of the compartment and pulled her into the bright service corridor. Looking back, she saw that she had been stuck in the literal crawl space that was used to run power conduits and ODN lines beyond the confines of the actual service corridor that engineers would actually be using to access those systems. Rahman: Where am I? Parker: Deep in the bowels of Probert Station. Deck 77 to be exact...what was the last thing that you remember? She let out a deep breath. Rahman: The last thing I remember, I was on Earth Spacedock... And evidently still was... just somewhere very far from where the briefing with the other starship captains and Admiral Terzo had been. Her combadge was long gone, and seeing his on his shipyard jumpsuit, she had a glimmer of hope, but it was quickly extinguished when she discovered that the communication systems for the entire shipyard was down as he shook his head and explained. Parker: No comms, Captain. The whole system is down. They say maintenance, but... Rahman: Mr. Parker, there is something nefarious happening in Starfleet. Parker: Explain... Rahman: Starfleet has been compromised. We need to find those we can trust to get the word out and... stop whoever is behind all this and stop whatever they are planning. He nodded back at her, seeing similar connections come together now. Parker: I agree. I've felt that something very big and very bad was coming. Now I know it's true... She looked around the service corridor, seeing no one else in sight, before she looked back at him. Rahman: What's been happening around here in the last day or so? Parker: More like what's been happening the past six months, Captain. Ships with relatively few warp hours but older were being recalled and decommissioned, deployments orders which made no sense, pulling ships back from patrolling Gorn space. None of it was making sense. But now, after seeing that little booby trap, I have a real good idea who is behind all this. She cocked an eyebrow. Rahman: Don't keep me in suspense. Parker: The Dominion. We've got Changelings among us. Rahman: If that's true, then we need to warn Wil and the others aboard Kitty Hawk before it's too late. Parker: Absolutely. I've seen that trick before. Killed a few Marines before it was figured out. Rahman: We can't trust the normal channels on this, Mr. Parker. As soon as we notify Command or another ship about what's happened, the changelings are going to come down on us hard. She looked around again, making sure no one was nearby. Rahman: Any suggestions? Parker: We climb out through the Jeffries tubes, go to the civilian decks, use the public transporter and get off the station. Then we'll go to the Miller. We can't use the turbolift or the transporters to leave here. Rahman: Agreed. So how much of a climb are we talking? Parker: Twenty seven decks... Ooof... she was glad she had only eaten a light lunch. Rahman: ::sarcastic:: Great... The sound of a turbolift car approaching caught their attention. Parker: The turbolift. We're about to have company... Hannibal pulled out a phaser and handed it to her. Rahman: Thanks. Parker: We got one shot to get off this deck. Use that if you have to. But know they will detect weapons fire up in Ops. Someone will eventually come, whether they will be friend or foe. Right now, either one is bad... She double-checked the heavy stun setting of the phaser before looking back up at him. Rahman: And what exactly are you going to do? Parker: Me? In about ten seconds I'm going to meet our guests and put them to sleep...:: pointing to a spot around the corner:: Stay there until I return... She rounded the corner and waited as Hannibal quickly took down whomever had been coming to greet them on the turbolift. After the sounds of the scuffle had ceased, she peered out to see two unconscious bodies. Both were wearing Starfleet security uniforms and not maintenance technicians, and both had been armed with phasers set to kill. Hannibal grabbed the phasers and threw them in the hatch. Rahman: ::shaking her head:: Dear God, Hannibal... you ever meet a problem you couldn't solve with a fist? Parker: No, I didn't kill them. I haven't had dinner yet...::smiling:: Rahman: Well, we need to find a way to hide them for now. Parker: I'll drag them over in that corridor, just in case somebody else comes... She nodded as he quickly dragged the bodies away, pulling a piece of rope from one of them. The two then headed to the Jefferies tube. Parker: Ready to do a little climbing? She leaned over to look into the Jefferies tube. Of course she had countless hours logged in these kind of maintenance crawlways as a former chief engineer, but it *had* been a while ever since she'd gotten that nice cushy captain's chair on the Kitty Hawk. Rahman: As ready as I'll ever be. Parker: You know Captain what's gonna happen if we get caught... Rahman: I don't plan on failure, Mr. Parker. Parker: That's the plan. Not getting caught. Let's go... Quickly, they dove into the Jefferies tube and she began climbing ahead of him, trying not to focus on how many rungs were above her. ((Later)) The hatch opened, spilling them out onto the public transporter level in a corner away from the crowds. Roshanara slowly stood up and looked around as Hannibal got out behind her. Rahman: We need to move our way quickly through the crowds and get to the transporter. Parker: Response Rahman: Don't look up. Just stay focused and try not to stand out too much. She glanced over and up at him. Rahman: ...well, try not to stand out as much. Parker: Response They quickly began walking at a brisk pace, avoiding the eyes of Starfleet officers patrolling as civilian personnel, reporters, and travelers made their way through the busy transporter level. As they reached one of the transporter rooms, Roshanara quickly went over to the door and locked it once they were inside before holding up her phaser at the transporter chief. Rahman: Hands up where I can see them. Transporter chief: Whoa, whoa, whoa! Parker: Response She looked over to the pad to see that one person had just been transported over from Earth's surface, specifically the academy. A fresh faced new ensign looking just as surprised as they were. Rahman: Oh, great... Galanis: Response Rahman: Stay on that pad, ensign. She looked back at Hannibal. Rahman: We can't afford any witnesses. Parker: Response Galanis: Response Rahman: You're coming with us, Ensign. She turned to the transporter chief, waving with her phaser for him to move aside as she put in the coordinates of the USS Miller, the prototype for the Miranda II that Hannibal was working on. Rahman: ::as she's typing into the console:: Get on the pad, Parker. ::looks to the transporter chief:: You, too. The transporter chief though just looked back before giving her a creepy smile. Transporter chief: You really think it's going to be that easy? Rahman: oO Ah, $%@^- Oo The transporter chief's hands morphed into an elongated tentacle form and quickly whipped away the phaser from her hand. She ducked out of the way just as the changeling punched at her with its other arm-turned-tentacle, the gelatinous fist slamming hard into the console, shattering the glass. Galanis: Response Parker: Response Roshanara stayed low to the floor as she scurried over to the transporter pad as phaser fire rang out. Galanis: Response Parker: Response Rahman: Computer, initiate transport! The confines of the spacedock transporter quickly dissolved away, to be replaced by the empty transporter room of the USS Miller. ((Transporter Room, USS Miller)) Aboard the Miller, equipment cards and other construction equipment lay scattered across the deck. In the transporter room, the operator's console still had protective covering over it. The trio of officers materialized into the dimly lit room, and Roshanara looked over at the ensign. Rahman: All right, who are you , Ensign? Galanis: Response Rahman: ::nods:: I'm Captain Roshanara Rahman and this is Major Hannibal Parker. And you're going to have a hell of a first day. Parker: Response Galanis: Response Rahman: As you just saw, there's been a changeling infiltration of Starfleet. We need to get this ship away from Earth and find the USS Kitty Hawk. The only people we can trust right now are aboard that ship. Galanis: Response Parker: Response She nodded and glanced towards the door before looking back at the ensign. Rahman: What's your training in, Ensign? Galanis: Response Parker: Response The doors to the transporter room opened, and in walked Captain Christina Cordova, the future CO of the Miller once the ship launched. Cordova: Parker, what the hell is going on here? Parker: Response Galanis: Response Roshanara stepped forward, recognizing as a fellow starship captain how the woman must have felt seeing the three intruders aboard, but she needed Cordova to understand how serious the situation was--and if she could trust her. Rahman: Captain, I'm Captain Roshanara Rahman. I need to borrow your ship: Emergency Order 7-6-2 alpha. Starfleet has been compromised. (OOC: Treating Captain Christina Cordova as an NPC, but I'll leave it for now for Ken/Parker and I to write for her) TAG! TBC... Captain Roshanara Rahman CO, USS Kitty Hawk I238705TZ0

Really enjoyed this engrossing sim from @Mister_Wake, particularly the way it shows the difference in what was actually happening/being said and what was happening/being said in T’Reyna’s mind. 👏🏻 ((Distribution Station, Biodome 2B, Miri IVa)) Having a scanner buzzing by her head was not pleasant, yet a lesser annoyance compared to the fury rising in her scorching veins. Myran: If she is indeed infected, Commander, she needs to be moved to a medical facility quickly. Fairhug: Ensign, how do you f… Foolish, foolish... T'Reyna: Shut up! ::She outburst:: My.. Head! So ... Full of ... Hatred! Commander, Adjunct, I am... unfit for ... Duty, please ... stun me before--... This could be career ending. Telling an officer to quiet. He understands, however. This is not herself. Any fool could deduce that. oO I need to control myself Oo Myran: Commander? A soft feeling. Touch, hands, sensation. It caused her eyes to widen, in surprise, in anxiety, in happiness and anger all at once. Relief and stress, how dare she touch you, she is here to help, please do not touch me... Irrational, illogical, irritable.. Myran: Let me take your pain, Ensign. ::Turning to Fairhug, her eyes full of compassion.:: I can only dull her pain, Commander. I cannot work against the effects of the plant; however. Ah... Solace... All that pain through her neurons ceased. No longer did the fire spread through her with agony to kick her blooming chaos into motion. Her breaths would become more steady, practiced and focused as she attempted to endure through the emotions. This was like Pon Farr all over again. Fairhug: How do you feel, Ensign? T'Reyna: I am not... Fit... For duty... Myran?: No, you are not. Commander, we should really move her to a medical facility, but we also need to deal with this uprising and the plant that has once again morphed into something other than what it was. Containment is logical. Containment is best. Containment is encasement, wrong, you can help them, they need you, this is not what you deserve! Serve them, prove yourself! The pain may be dulled, but the flames are out of control, like a bonfire rising smoke, filling the lungs with choking ambition! Fairhug: Do you have anyone who can help nearby? Myran pulled out her communicator and typed something into it one handed. Myran?: I have let security know that we have several affected by the plant. They are sending reinforcements and medical personnel. Fairhug: Ensign, why do you feel you are unfit for duty? The Commander! Calming, soothing, official! Answer him, you fool! He asked you a question, soldier! T’Reyna: Symptoms... Blood on fire... Emotions- forced... And... And... Difficult to think... Fighting oneself, to... suppress... An attack from within... it is... in my blood... Even without the pain, the new war within raged on. Sweat dripped down from her forehead as her body fought the flu-like symptoms, her body trying to heat out the pathogens within. Cold fusion, soldier. You feel that flowing through your veins, the energy? That is not an illness, that is you! What you are without that pathetic Vulcan teachings, who you are supposed to be! If you destroy the working parts, you get a broken machine! A beacon of light from a burning screen! Light it all up, Subaltern! Let this city burn, root out the infection, bring these miserable people the monster they believe you to be! oO I am not a Subaltern any longer... I am an Ensign! My duty is to these people, not destruction.. Oo Cut the source of the problem out, you cannot cure cancer without radiation! Fight the fire within with a fire of your own! Burn it all down! Light up the void! Hands firm. Her eyes snapped to the Adjunct as she was grasped like a common criminal. No matter how much T'Reyna knew why, her body insisted on fighting back. Every ounce of her being fought against the infection, the illogical conceptions of hostility... Myran?: Please don’t fight against me, Ensign. This is for your safety. We’re going to get you some help. Fairhug?: Perhaps we should take a step back, Adjunct. T’Reyna is a friend and a Starfleet Officer. I’m sure she means us no harm. Yes, Officer, I am Subaltern T'Reyna, ally, friend, you are not my target... T’Reyna: Commander, it is... ok...-- That is all she managed to say. It was not the flash of phaser fire she sensed first. It was the sound she first heard. Phaser. Fire. Energy. Flame. Fairhug?: Get down up! Shoved away by a force she could not even register of the Commanders, she was now free of the soothing grasp of Myran. The pain returned, flooding her being. Yet it was not the same agony she felt before. No, this was not pain. It was something different. Something familiar. Something worse. Something older. Myran: ? Another shot. Another firefight. Another time. Fairhug?: It’s the Tellarite Jem'Hadar. Looks like he found T’Reyna’s phaser! Myran: ? T’Reyna: Contact! This wasn't an alleyway. It was the Badlands. Harlow-III. A barely inhabited piece of rock in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by abnormal storms in space that made any chance of reinforcements a petty dream. Yet even here, across these scorched barren rocks filled with craters, the flames swirled in vortex firestorms, rushing in hazes across the battlefield. Smoke rose from the pits nearby, where ships had been shot down and homes had been laid to waste. The only safety were canyons; natural rock formations where once the rivers of life flowed, only to dry after thousands of years of heat. Walls either side, bricks upon Miri-IV, the canyon stretched only a small passage. No cover, no escape, only a way forward. To fight. The pain of the heat rose from within, a uniform ripped and torn as blood oozed from her chin, scarred from the protest, shrapnel from artillery. This was war. This was Hell. Before her, the enemy came into sight as her two crewmates fell. The Jem'Hadar, armoured and rifled, his pale scales as clear in this red rock as a target like a star in space. His rifle raised and she knew his aim was perfected through Dominion training. Yet he missed, anyway. The phaser hitting a wall above Commander Fairhug. Perhaps it was the storms that toyed his senses, or a lack of ketracel-white. Both sides had lacked supplies for weeks. There was only moments before they deaths. She acted fast, as was her instinct, a good soldier that she is. She dived down, gripping Adjunct Myran's Sublieutenant Voltok's phaser from her his holster. In a snap-like motion, muscle memory and trained focus, she fired upon the TellariteJem'Hadar soldier. Myran/Fairhug: ? It is fortunate Myran had set it to stun. The enemy fell, heavily with a thud. Another foe defeated, of little relief for their vast infinite numbers. Harlow-III, she swore, would not be their grave, no matter how much they must suffer to fulfill their role in this endless war. Wasn't this war twenty-six years ago? T'Reyna blinked. The Tellarite was on the floor, stunned from Adjunct's phaser. Slowly, as she came back to reality, she dropped the phaser with a shaken hand once more. To her, the body was still. She knew not if she had just killed him or not. She did not know if she had just killed an innocent man. In that momentary panic, she felt her body freeze in place as the fires cooled. For even a soldier, burning in the embers of battle, would defeat themselves in the cold depths of guilt. Myran/Fairhug: ? Ensign T'Reyna Security Starbase 118 Ops O240102T11

Zenno, you mad genius. Inspired by a variety of hated words. Don't ever do that again. ((OOC Zenno is thinking about his Academy classmate Saava, a Vulcan Nurse. She is assigned to a ship far away from the Alpha Isles. They played Parisses Squares together competitively in the Academy and had some adventures on some recent shore leaves. Timewise, this would be taking place after the Emisa III mission but before returning to DS33.)) ((Holodeck, Deck 4, USS Arrow)) Zenno felt such relief after that last mission. Some of the away team had gotten captured and that was not going to look good on the reports. He expected that he would bear some of the burden for that. Perhaps inadequate training, or too few drills in Emergency First Contact procedures. So, he came to the Holodeck to relax a bit. Just a time to peacefully sit on a beach like they had back home in the slanted crepuscular light at the end of the day and consider what is to come while watching a herd of Zwahwas, common ungulates on Bolarus IX, moving down the water’s edge. He had replicated a snack of persimmon crisps, a choice that even Saava would not find objectionable. She had been pestering him in her unique Vulcan way about his diet lately and he’d been trying to stay out of trouble. She had gotten records of his replicator orders and had sent an urgent message, unbidden, to Doctor Ohnari, with suggestions about a food plan. When the Doctor showed him the message, he had almost died of embarrassment. He wasn’t sure if she was still spying on his meal choices, but she probably did have a point. The Doctor had said something that bothered him. Talia was convinced that Saava had a romantic interest in him, based solely on an email about his diet. He wasn’t sure how telepathic Haliians were, or if that even worked over a distance, or if she was just making a guess. But the thought troubled him. His friendship with Saava was perfect as it was. He had never inquired as to her situation in that regard, but he knew that Vulcans had arranged marriages. So, it wasn’t something that he had ever considered. He had just thought her family had some proper match arranged for her and that was that. Saava’s family had some kind of high status, but she was always reluctant to speak about it and he didn’t pry. Contemplating a relationship with her made his head hurt. Their personalities were an example of perfect syzygy. In his private life, Zenno was relaxed and easy going. To people who didn’t know him well, they might have thought him quite lugubrious. But it was just that the stresses of his work made him prefer an easy, somewhat indolent time when he was on his own. Saava was high structure and liked to have her way. Everyone else considered her bossy, but Zenno rather liked it. She knew what her preferences were. But Zenno wasn’t sure if he was included in that list. Trying to find out might ruin everything. But his ruminations were interrupted by a dryness in his mouth. These persimmon chips needed something else. They needed a dip. Zenno: Computer, replicate a side order of Kurugu nut dip. Surely, Saava would approve. The requested dip appeared and Zenno idly dragged one of the chips through the requested condiment and it made an unpleasant squelching noise. Steeling himself, he popped the chip into his mouth and nearly choked. The dip hadn’t improved anything, and it stuck in his throat. He had hoped it might make the chips a little moist, but no. He put the dip aside and just ordered some Altair water. It would have to do He still wasn’t sure what he was going to do regarding Saava. There was a risk that the Doctor was entirely mistaken. Saava was a nurse and very much cared about fitness and health. It was only natural that she would express concern. The Doctor’s scruples could be relied upon to keep out of it, unless Saava made another preposterous request. Zenno was sure that she wouldn’t go that route again. Accordingly, Talia would be unlikely to press the issue with him. But that still left him with a quandary. What to do? In the time since Commander Serinus had left, Zenno felt entirely behind at work all the time. He expected to be fired every time he was called to a meeting with the command staff. If that happened, the one consolation he had given himself is that he and Saava could go into business together and open a Sehlat Ranch. They could have a little bungalow and be free of the worries of Starfleet. In his mind, this had always been a business proposition. It was silly, but he liked to imagine it. Now, this thought has taken on a new dimension. What if it was… more? It did unleash a cascade of emotions in him and he knew he would be very content with such an arrangement. But would she? Whatever her family did, he was sure they would not agree to a match with a second son from an unremarkable family of no status. Would that be an impossible obstacle? He realized how precious little he knew about how any of this worked in her culture. Without thinking, he picked up the PADD next to him and began crafting a message. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say but the words tumbled out of him. TO: Ensign Saava, USS White Pine FROM: Lt Zenno, USS Arrow Honored Friend, I hope that everything on the White Pine is going well, and you are having every success. We’ve talked about your struggles with your Chief Doctor, and I know that you can solve them to your mutual benefit. Please let me know how it’s going. Many apologies for missing our scheduled calls for the past few weeks. We had a very challenging mission here and much of it I can’t talk about. But I can share that at one point I had to fake distress with some food to create a distraction at my Captain’s request. Knowing how you have an interest in my diet, I thought you’d find that… how do you like to put it… “mildly interesting.” While the mission was a success, there were a few rough spots. And when things were at their bleakest, thinking of our next adventure together was a source of strength for me. I’m not sure we can top the trip we took to see the Parrises Classic on Theta Reticuli IX, but I look forward to trying. In fact, if we can align our schedules, what if we took a trip to Vulcan? You’ve always spoken of the Parrises Leagues there and we never had a chance to see a match. I would very much want to see where you are from. Plus, we can try all the local delicacies that you agree are suitable for me. I know you like to oversee that sort of thing. We have a shore leave coming up, so we can talk on a call, then, if you are available. Your Best Bolian Friend, Zenno PS – No shore leave. Someone stole something. At first it was Lemon Squares then something even bigger. Will be out of touch for a while. But I’m still thinking of you! LT Zenno Security Chief USS Khitomer A240006Z13

And another great sim, this time from @Lina Dahlquist ((Lina’s Quarters, USS Gorkon)) The two halves of the door closed behind Lina with the usual hissing sound as she arrived in her quarters. She went straight over to her bed, on which she had already neatly folded her uniform ready for her next shift. She had contacted her superiors as soon as she had left the library and had been ordered to report to the security office. But first she had to change out of her civilian clothes into her uniform. When she zipped up her fresh uniform jacket shortly afterwards, she noticed that a small signal lit up on her personal computer, indicating that she had received a message. Astonished, she walked over to her small desk. Who could have contacted her? Perhaps it was a positive message. She could have really used one of those, even if she was now better able to hide her sadness about the situation. Now that she had completely closed her jacket, she activated her computer and froze. It was a message from her mother, with whom she had only recently re-established contact. However, a glance at the time index told her that the message had arrived shortly before Johnson's time jump. Lina stared at the message like a mouse at a snake in front of her. She stretched out her index finger to play the message, but hesitated briefly before doing so and withdrew her finger again. A deep breath followed as she tried to calm her rapidly pounding heart. She had tried not to let this situation get too close to her. She had succeeded with her father. Although she didn't exactly begrudge him being a Borg drone in this timeline either, she didn't care, at least to some extent - which frankly also scared her a little. But it was different with her mother. Could she bear to look at a message from her mum who she didn't know how she was doing in this timeline? Whether she was well or whether she was perhaps somewhere as a Borg drone.... oO No! Oo Lina tried not to even allow the idea of it. But it was hopeless. Once you've had a thought like that, you couldn't erase the image from your mind. She felt tears rolling down her cheeks and clenched her hand into a fist, which she hit lightly on her desk several times. It was a mixture of sadness, despair and incredible anger at Commodore Johnson, who had not only betrayed Starfleet and the Federation, but had also committed an unprecedented crime by changing the timeline the way he had done. Right now, since she didn't know anything more precise yet, she could still hope. Hoping that the Borg hadn't destroyed everything. Hoping that the Federation and other Starfleet ships still existed and that they were still putting up resistance somewhere. Hoping that her mother was still around in this time-line. And, of course, hoping that they could undo all this - make it right again. She closed her eyes and saw the picture of her mother by her little childhood bed. She had pulled her blanket up under her chin and her mum was giving her a kiss. The words of her mum echoed in her mind. "Everything will be all right." Yes, everything was going to be all right. Now she said these comforting words from her mother to the still unplayed message. "Everything will be all right, Mum. We'll take care of it." Without playing the message, Lina ended the session on her computer and made her way to Commander Aegam's office. --- Ensign Lina Dahlquist Sec/Tac Officer USS Gorkon D239009VD0

@LuxaLorana NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 😭

Some amazing and heart wrenching sims coming out from both player characters and PNPC's in this mission interlude, as they each come to learn what has happened to their universe and thus their personal worlds, such as this one from @Samira Neathler as her PNPC Meg Bendyn. Lieutenant JG Meg Bendyn - Broken (google.com)

((Chief Science Officer’s Office, Deck 17, USS Gorkon)) ((One Day After)) She had avoided her quarters for as long as she possibly could. There was plenty of work to be done. She had combed through Johnson’s file, and then again, and again. Learned all she could about the technology at his disposal. Separated projects that might help them survive this new timeline, and ones that might have to be put on hold to help the Gorkon survive. Hopefully, this would all be fixed soon. But…they really couldn’t know that, and she wanted to be prepared for the worst. She checked in on her friends aboard the ship, and the crew in her department. How are you managing, do you need a moment or an assignment to focus on, how’s your support network, do you want to talk, have you seen a counselor yet, here, have a biscuit. We are going to fix this. If she stopped working, stopped helping everyone else, she would start feeling. Rok’s meals were set to replicate automatically, so she’d managed to stay busy and away from her quarters for nearly a full day. When she awoke slumped over her desk, shoulder stiff and aching from an unexpected nap, she finally conceded, and made the dreaded march up to deck two. ((Tahna’s Quarters, Deck 2, USS Gorkon)) Rok brushed up against her leg as soon as she entered her quarters, purring softly. The tortoiseshell feline fluffed her feathers and stared at Meru with her one good eye. Tahna: I know, I know, I’m sorry. She scooped the cat up, gently scratching between her wings, just where the cat liked it. Rok rubbed her head against the Bajoran’s chin. Tahna: There, tesha tah. I know I’ve been gone too long. Really, the cat was as introverted as Meru herself, and set up to be alone for much longer if needed. That didn’t stop the scientist from feeling guilty. As tempting as it was to fix another raktajino, take the cat with her back to her office, and keep working, Meru reasoned she was no good to anyone (especially in such a dangerous universe) if she didn’t at least try to sleep. So she gave Rok an apology treat, one she’d bought way back on Andoria (hell, Andoria…), and headed through the arch to her bedroom, rolling her sore shoulder. At least her bed would be more comfortable than her office desk. At least… Her eye caught on her desk, and she froze. Her father’s painting hung there, her family home and kava fields vibrant and alive. They were all gone now, razed, maybe turned into a Borg stronghold. Had Bajor even existed without occupation for a little while? A holophoto of her and Ena on holiday adorned the desk, but she could barely look at it, or the photos of her family. Had Ena, Ren, Tara, had they ever existed? Was it better if they hadn’t? Her uncle, her parents…she knew how hard they’d fought to be free on Bajor, she knew what they’d sacrificed, how they’d suffered. And now she closed her eyes and saw them all, everyone she’d left behind. Everyone she’d failed. Dead, or covered in cybernetics. Or both. And that was just the people she knew and loved. There were trillions of people out there, gone, because one tiny ship had failed to stop another. Maybe if she’d worked faster, been better…maybe… She wanted to scream. She wanted to scream, and rage, and cry, and curse the universe and the Prophets and herself. She wanted…she wanted… Her knees buckled and she hit the floor, hands clasped over her mouth, helpless to stop the silent sobs wracking her body, the pain in her chest, the nausea. She’d always imagined the worst thing that could come of being in Starfleet was some horrible death for herself. Oh, how wrong she’d been. How naive. Rok brushed up against her side, the tiniest little lantern in the darkness. Meru gathered the cat into her arms and, finally, let herself mourn. -- Lt. Commander Tahna Meru Chief Science Officer USS Gorkon (NCC-82293) G239801TM4

I am posting this here, in Appreciations because there is no forum where one can post sims that they did not appreciate... And let me tell you, I did not appreciate opening up my 118 inbox, reading this sim, and then struggling to hold in tears over this incredibly visceral sim from @MTMuir -- all while I'm trying to maintain composure at my work desk! Thanks a lot, buddy, now I need to take a few minutes to be okay!! 😅 Original Sim Here: https://groups.google.com/g/sb118-amity/c/mUcqJZqLDgQ/m/oqystBSPAAAJ

I love spooky things, and writing that makes my skin crawl. @Addison MacKenzie did a stellar job at that, in my opinion, in a very recent sim, playing the part of the decaying Borg Queen to perfection.

OOC: I particularly enjoyed the 'explanation'. 😄 IC: (( Astra Aura, Downtown, Denali Station )) Harford: I suppose this is where we change? Into what exactly, Sir? And then we step back out into the hallway? Or will they come and retrieve us? oO Prophets, never let it be said I am not social with the Junior Officers. Oo She stood in front of the furthest door as Trej disappeared down the hallway. Harford: I'm sorry, Sir. That was a lot of questions. I'm a very protocol driven person. Oddas: Honestly, that's refreshing among the crew - but for this, try to relax. There's a robe in the room, change into whatever makes you comfortable, the staff is aiming to cater to you, not to ask you to make you uncomfortable. They'll come get you, wherever you are. Harford: Yes, Sir. Thank you. I'll uh, see you in a moment then. Aria entered into her own room, a small wooden room that she knew would be tied to her own biometrics, anything she left would remain, the door would lock to anyone but her - including the staff that would not think about violating the staff. She removed her uniform, folded it up, stretching her arm in the process. She was looking forward to the day. The thick white robe felt good as she slipped it on, until she pulled the arm on, causing her to wince. She let out a deep sigh. There was a soft knock on the door, evidently it was time to go. Aria pulled her robe tight and opened the door to Trej's smiling face and Harford just beyond. Trej: Right this way, Doctors. She would never admit it, but there were times she liked being addressed by her academic title. She followed the man down the small hallway, the one she knew Ke’ToQ would be administered. Inside it was a small, a few meters on several sides, with three low benches on all sides of a tank approximately 1 meter tall - currently covered by a thick silver cloth. Aria knew it was to keep the fish calm. On the open side of the tank, hanging from the wall, was a view screen and a small ceremonial tank of blood wine. A tall Vulcanoid woman entered - Aria had never decided if they were Vulcan, Romulan, or some combination. She gestured for them to sit on the benches. T'Pri: Thank you for joining, we will start with a quick animation for our new comers, it is necessary for your safety. Aria smiled and sat on one of the side benches - she could hear the swimming and lapping of the Ke'ToQ fish in the tank in front of them. Harford: Response T'Pri nodded and the animation began, the screen springing to life showing a stylized and animated, cartoonish version of the tank currently in front of them. Narrator: Thank you for coming to our traditional Ke'ToQ ceremony. It is with great pleasure we welcome you and invite you to an ancient tradition practiced by Klingon Warriors since the time of Kahless to improve their performance in battle, and it made them look pretty snazzy too. On the screen two cartoon Klingons appeared - one male and one female, smiling, sticking their legs into the tank, grimacing, followed by some bubbling, and then pulled out smooth legs. They smiled wide, exaggerated, cartoonish smiles, drew their knives, and ran off into battle. It was quite the different explanation then when Aria first got the explanation of how this ritual began, much more, polished and sanitized. She glanced to the Ensign. Harford: Response Narrator: Of course, it is not for the faint of heart, the Ke'ToQ fish is a scary looking fish ... A very real picture of the fish appeared on the screen, gross, scaly, and with teeth that did not fit in its mouth. Its fins were more like hard bones, and its eyes were small and beady, and it looked like something out a nightmare. The measurements on the screen showed them to be around 75mm nose to tail. Aria chuckled. Oddas: At least they show you a real picture of that. Narrator: The Ke'ToQ have a curious predilection, and love to rub up against the skin of anything you place in with the tank, pulling and removing all the little loose bits that you don't want anyway. The screen changed again, this time showing an underwater view, for legs underwater, with a dozen of the fish - an all cartoon version this time including fish, water, and legs, not moving at first, then slowly, noticing the legs, and touching, bumping the legs, each other, and gradually picking up speed, As they did, they began to pick hit the legs with more frequency and velocity, over and over, as they did their scales, bone fins, and the edges of their teeth, and their bodies were pulling bits of skin from the legs, then slurping it down. The animation made it clear their mouths were too big to actually bit anything directly, but Aria knew from experience it would feel as if they were trying to eat your legs to the bone. Narrator: After just two standard minutes, they have done their job, but don't be as heroic as the two in our video - seven standard minutes is the maximum, and the time required for the celebratory blood wine. On the video, the two Klingons were back, this time running a hand over their obviously smooth legs and toasting each other with bloodwine. Narrator: Remember, while it can be painful, you can pull your legs out at any time, and our staff is available to assist. Plenty of our patrons get enrichment, enjoyment, and benefit from 1 minute, 3 minutes, or less of the treatment. There is no shame in deciding this is not for you, and of course, Astra Aura assumes no risk or responsibility if you begin the ceremony. The animation ended, and the screen went dark, and Aria noted two more attendants had entered the room - an Orion woman and a man of the same species as Krel, dark blue skin and large eyes. They positioned themselves behind the Aria and the Ensign, she knew in case someone panicked they could be pulled out in a moment's notice. Trej: Doctors, ready? Harford: Response Oddas: Ready She moved forward and gripped the edges of the bench as Trej pulled the cover off the tank - the clear water showing a much more densely populated tank than the animation implied. At this moment, she always felt a moment of trepidation. oO Irina, Cada, Jazmine, Katya, Brayden, Toni, Rahman, Alea, T'Sara, Teevin, T'Lea, Stelek Oo She lowered her legs into the tank, one after the other, pulling the robe back to keep it out of the water. She bit her lower lip as the first fish began rubbing up against her leg. Harford: Response

I don't know how @kimstapledon didn't die of embarrassment as a teenager because I sure would have if this happened to me. Great job on making me feel things, lmao.

@Alora DeVeau wrote a wonderful sim giving Arthur some much needed advice.

Taelon does a wonderful job of describing the initial moments of a harrowing "time shift" event on the USS Gorkon here, as the universe changes around them and reveals a galaxy completely ruled by the Borg. It's a really fun read from the distinct perspective of an El-Aurian, along with a couple of additional characters that Taelon's writer uses to really set the scene. Great sim! Lt.JG Taelon - Time Warp, Again (google.com)

Some Sims, I swear, are like watching a movie unfold in front of my mind's eye! An intriguing entry in the start of the Artemis' Blockbuster from our XO - @Talos Dakora - and the kind of Sim that has made the Borg Cube-infiltrators feel lucky about their assignment 😝 Win-Win Situation!

((Kettick's Apartment,Level 35, Anchorage, Denali Station)) On the 35th level of Anchorage tower, in the heart of an ever-ticking clockwork maze the likes of which MC Escher and Rube Goldberg might have dreamed together during a steampunk convention, sat a large standard-issue Engineering PADD. The metallic components of the machinery that surrounded it echoed with alien sounds, and here and there, a complicated piece made of Remmilian crystal cast an eerie glint in its muted blue light. In front of the screen, watching with rapt attention, sat the friendly neighbourhood insectoid Chief of Engineering. One might say that he sat comfortably, never mind that his "seat" looked like it should stick out of a particularly fancy theremin. Then again, the only one who was around to judge his tastes in furniture was Major Quack, and the slightly glowing rubber duck hekd his peace for now. Kettick had another, smaller PADD next to him, and from time to time plucked a stylus from a nearby flat surface to scribble on it in a brief bout of quiet frenzy, with his head cocked to the side and a thoughtful cast to his facial appendages. The recent mission had highlighted a weakness of his that he had left unadressed for too long. It had been fraught with peril, predatory giant monsters, death-defying jumps, exposure to unknown technologies, and other such things that happen every other Tuesday when you wear the Starfleet uniform. And when faced with near-constant stress and the specter of their possible demise, his primate colleagues had reacted in their usual manner. Banter. And among it, sarcasm. Now, Kettick was not completely alien to sarcasm. He had served under humans that were close to breathing it - at the very least, they used a significant part of their breath in that pursuit. Through constant exposure, he had learned to spot some patterns, some idioms that allowed him to understand that some words were said in jest, and that his interlocutor occasionnally meant the polar opposite of what they said. But the last days had tested his proficiency in the fine arts of sarcasm and irony (and yes, apparently, these were two different things), and he had been found... sorely lacking. A failure he could not afford now that he was supposed to lead; back when he was a menial drone, he only had to understand his task, and do it to the satisfaction of his betters. Now, if he were to serve, he had to understand *people*. Fortunately, he had been told by friendly humans in the enlisted contingent of some remedial courses that he could use to better himself, and he had thrown himself into the task with his usual zeal. The situations presented were of course exxagerated, but the course material was easy to understand, and he had a feeling that he was starting to understand the finesses of situational and interpresonal interactions. In fact, he was impatient to try some of the lines he had noted down as particularly impactful. He had no doubt that they would work in a professional context, since according to the title of the data folder, they were meant to be used in the Office. END/No tags -- Lieutenant Kettick Chief of Engineering Denali Station G239107LR0 Your Engineering department kindly reminds you that you are supposed to read the flakking manual.

We all know how hard it is to come into a chunky scene and @Amanda Tully comes in with a strong entry for a new player in what has been a very busy, fast paced mission!

((Balcony, Joint Expedition Hub – Idrustix Colony)) There was a moment of quiet between the father and daughter, the only sounds the wind and the distant noise of machinery. But they couldn’t linger in silence forever. After all, Tri’lea’s time was limited – and she had a great need to speak her mind, which only made the ticking clock feel more urgent. Polgonz: Atda, I’ve made a decision. One which will surely be a most unpopular one… But I believe it is the right one. For myself and for Ceciri… My mind is nearly set on it. It would mean the world to me, though, to have your blessing. She turned to look him in the eyes as he gestured for her to continue. Polgonz: I’ve thought about this, long nights tossing and turning, and while I am happy to devote my life in service to the mother world, and to have my marriage represent a bond between Betazed and Cygnet, this moment shall be mine and Ceciris and no one else’s. I have booked passage back to the Alpha Quadrant for both of us… and planned a private ceremony, in seclusion… Dro: Seclusion in the Alpha Quadrant? A quaint idea. Tri’lea chuckled lightly – almost as though a weight were being lifted off her for a moment, freeing the joy within her. Her father always had a way of making her laugh, even when she felt as far away from laughing as the Alpha Quadrant was from the Delta. Polgonz: Yes, well… As secluded as one gets, I suppose. ::Her face growing more serious again:: But I mean compared to what awaits us up on Amity. Mother Seri’s plan, Aunt Lohani’s media circus… Atda, they made commemorative novelty garments. She believed, already, that he probably understood where she was going with all this – but, out of respect for the process of unfolding her thoughts, the conversation continued. Dro: The pomp and circumstance becoming too much? Or is there another reason for the change of heart? Polgonz: There’s been no change of heart, Atda. Only a shift in focus. I don’t intend to tell anyone else of mine and Ceciri’s departure. With luck, we’ll get ahead of the other slipstream vessels and nobles’ yachts and be safely… ::a slight smirk:: secluded… before anyone knows where to look for us. Dro: I can see what I can do to delay them. Is there a reason you want to avoid them? Besides their personalities? Polgonz: It’s not their personalities that trouble me – it’s that I feel I am meant to be a carbon copy. With the worst of it off her chest, Tri’lea turned once again to the open air in front of her and the great fields and forests beyond. She leaned her hands on the railing of the balcony, taking a deep breath of the Idrustixian air. Polgonz: It will be our wedding. Just for us. Not for anyone else… Of course, once it’s done, we’ll return here and continue our work. Or at least, I will. Ceciri will need to remain for a while, working things out with her own family’s interests. She paused, biting her lip apprehensively. Polgonz: Do you think Mother Seri will forgive this obfuscation? Dro: Oh she was wed for two months before they had their ceremony. ::turning toward her:: Besides I do understand and approve. Polgonz: I suppose it wouldn’t change my mind either way… But I’m glad to know your heart in the matter. She moved to him and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. Polgonz: ~~Thank you, for your endless support, Atda. ~~ Dro: ~~ As long as the stars shine.~~ ((Weeks Later -- Forest of Devoted Sacrifice – Cygnet XIV, Beta Quadrant)) The forest was dark, quiet, lit only by the silent flames of the many lanterns which hung in the trees lining the old worn path to the Gates of the ancient fortress, and by the stars that glistened in the evening sky above. Two figures stood in the glade, faint starlight reflected on them by the gentle cascading waters of the nearby falls. Between them was a stone altar, built long before any of them existed even as distant thoughts, but which would now bind their fates. Ceciri looked at Tri’lea, who was wearing a set of armor and had the traditional knotted rope of flowers around her, like Ceciri was. The armor was a cobalt-bronze, with a printed imprint of the clan symbols of Ariadust and Polgonz, and various star and flower designs. Unlike Ceciri’s slightly more covered armored skirt, a concession to Betazoid’s garb was made to make it more revealing, to show the truth of the person. In Cygnetian culture, the armor represented the connection forged between the people being married, and more importantly, the bridge between two people, then donned to overlay the person inside. It was one of the two traditions, from Ceciri’s clan, but many preferred the more modern one of wearing less. Ceciri just wasn’t a huge fan of that. The stars weren’t those of Tri’lea’s home – and yet, they were familiar now, beginning to take on the comforting reliability of one’s second home. She brought her eyes down from the heavens, focusing her attention on Ceciri. She looked regal, beautiful, and so strong it was hard not to gasp. In her ceremonial garments – ornate armour, draped in cloth bearing traditional symbols of strength and unity, a sword at her hip – lit by the flickering flames and the soft starlight, she looked almost like a figure out of a storybook. Lea pursed her lips, taking a deep measured breath of the thin Cygnian air, before she smiled at Ceciri. (( Flashback – 2399 from JP: The Forest of a Distant Star (Part 1, Part 2) )) Polgonz: It’s hard to imagine that, at one time, you were just a name on a scroll to me… In fact, sometimes I forget that we’re ‘supposed’ to be married entirely. Things just feel different now. ::Smiling:: Do you think that’s silly? Ariadust: I don’t think so. I mean, getting to know you .. ::Ceciri looked at the slightly shorter woman with a broader smile:: .. I’ve enjoyed it. Lea turned back to the gate and stared up at its pocked surface. Polgonz: Do you miss it? Cygnet, that is.. Ariadust: I do, as I have not been back in .. 24 standard years now. Polgonz: ::Turning to face Ceciri:: That is a long time… I suppose you and I are both of a kind. Our home is among the stars. All the same, I find myself longing for Betazed now and again. There’s something special about the ‘mother world’ I suppose. Ceciri nodded. She had been a spacer from the age of a bit past 9, in Cygnetian years , and she was not sure she could settle down on any planet, even the homeworld. Ariadust: ::nodding:: For better or worse, it has molded us, and it is what our soul calls to, I feel. I’ve been in space since I was 12 standard years, on merchant ships, or as a Starfleet officer, and .. it’s my home now. But I still want to walk the planet of my birth, sometimes. Lea stepped closer and took Ceciri’s hand again. The lantern light bounced off the nearby waterfall, scattering in a brilliant shifting pattern that lit up the two women and the walls surrounding them. She spoke softly, but with conviction, getting closer so that she could be heard over the sound of the falls. Polgonz: If that’s what you want, then we’ll make that happen. We don’t need to let anything stand in our way. If there are hurdles, we’ll overcome them. (( End Flashback )) That memory seemed like an eternity ago now – but the promises they’d made then had now borne fruit. Polgonz: Ready? Ariadust: Always. Ceciri smiled softly, speaking to more than this, before she turned to face a third figure, emerging from a hut nearby, carrying a candle in one hand and an old bound tome tucked under her other arm. As the priestess reached the glade, she set the candle atop the altar and brought the ornate book out from under her arm, holding it in front of her, clasped against her chest. Priestess: Ceciri Ariadust, c'Ariadust, Warden of the Gates of The Fortress Where The Innocents Sheltered, Bloodied Daughter, Lieutenant of Starfleet, Master of Planetary Terraforming, Daughter of Cygnet, Lady of the Court of the Stars, Champion of Blade and Speed, Daughter of Ksharian k'Larian s'Ariadust and Fairioni; You come before the Honoured Matron of the Forest Altar, under the eyes of the fairies, prepared to invoke the binding of your soul to another… Ariadust: In faith and deed, I do. Priestess: Tri’lea Doyoxo Polgonz, Daughter Ascendant of the House of Travellers, Twentieth in number of the Houses of Betazed, Daughter Ascendant of the House of Wealth, Ninth in number of the Houses of Betazed, Child of Oxeania, Gatekeeper of the Delta Quadrant, Daughter of Idrustix and Ucron; You, too, come before the Honoured Matron of the Forest Altar, under the eyes of the fairies, prepared to invoke the binding of your soul to another… Tri’lea did her best to steady her pounding heartbeat, her obsidian eyes shifting from Ceciri, to the elaborately-dressed Priestess, and back again. Polgonz: Yes. With all my heart, I do. There was a moment of silent pause, the only noise the gentle rustle of the leaves in the breeze. Priestess: No others have come to bear witness to this joining. Is that so? Ariadust: None other need witness our binding, none but the fairies, the stars, the forest, and the Matron. Ceciri kept to the traditional wording, the words passed down from the first Ceciri k’Ariadust, many centuries ago. Polgonz: ::To the Priestess:: By our choice. ::To Ceciri:: Our love is no spectacle. The older woman nodded solemnly, and opened the tome, beginning to recite a rite in the language of Cygnet. Tri’lea did her best to follow along, relying on her studies to fill in the words spoken to quickly for her to hear. It was, as was so much of Cygnetian culture, a story known by all – a cultural touchstone which only the most devoted of ‘outsiders’ could come to understand. A tale that told of the first binding, between two great warrior women, whose love could not be contained by any force, terrestrial or celestial. Priestess: ::Finishing the story:: …Ceciri and Tri’lea, what evidence do you bring that your love cannot be contained? The two women took each other's hands. Ceciri: Even though the gates of gold and silver beckoned, even through the path of burnt lava and obsidian, we stand here today. Lea recalled her own fierce determination. The agreement between her late mother and Ceciri’s aunt had been the document which set in motion their marriage – but it had been their decision to go forward with it, despite the trials they would face, and to do it in their own way, for nobody but themselves. From those who disapproved of their arrangement, to those who sought to prevent the alliance of their Houses, nobody – no force – could stand in their way. Tri’lea: ::Smiling proudly:: Some have tried to hold us back. Even the Matriarchs of great Houses. And they have failed. Before our families, before our birthrights, our commitment is to respecting each other. That has never wavered… (( Flashback - 2399, Amity Outpost from JP: Certain First Steps (Part 1, Part 2) )) Polgonz: If we are to marry, it should be because we want to, not because of some contract… Tri’lea laughed nervously as she turned to look out to the stars beyond the end of the Terminal. Polgonz: It’s only respect for my mother’s legacy that keeps me from tearing that thing up. Ceciri laughed a bit, but it was a little strained. Tri’lea understood, sensing the delicate balance of emotions in k’Ariadust, and recognizing them as a reflection of her own strained feelings. Ariadust: Personally, it’s the indirect threat there that hasn’t caused me to react more harshly. ::Ceciri looked at the stars also:: And I think my great aunt will learn to regret the lever she chose to use. A short silence passed between the two women as they stared into the cosmos, considering their fates and the choices before them. Tri’lea mulled it over. Outright refusing to comply would bring shame upon her branch of the family, draw attention to a divide between her mother’s will and her own that might call into question the validity of her ascendancy to a Daughter of the Twentieth House. But to go along with it meant giving in and doing as she was told, rather than forging a path for herself. Polgonz: Perhaps the best thing, then, would be to find a way to make this arrangement work for us. ::Turning to look Ceciri in her striking blue eyes:: Perhaps, somewhere between relenting and fighting back, there is a third option – one that might allow us to make the most of the situation in order to strengthen our own positions. Ariadust: A third option? Ceciri was certainly willing to listen to any possibilities here. She wasn’t sure how to get out of this situation, either. Polgonz: I won’t lie, Ceciri. I like you – and not just because I must – but we do not really know one another yet. Not deeply. I’d like to spend more time together, to see if we might be compatible… but beyond my personal inclinations, I think we ought to help each other. Work together. This needn’t be all business, but it also needn’t be all romance, either. Ariadust: That makes sense. Ceciri had the distinct sense that this was going somewhere. Polgonz: They attempted to manipulate us, but we are stronger than that. Together, I see us as being more powerful than either of us on our own. And there it was. Ceciri would need to think on this some more, but it was clear that Tri’lea was far more dedicated to the idea... but not without proper cause. And had far more to lose if this didn’t go through. Ariadust: I can’t disagree with that. Polgonz: Then let’s consider our potential marriage as an opportunity to claim our own destinies. To empower each other so that we might be more than pawns in someone else’s game. We deserve as much, don’t you think? Ariadust: Well. I think it’s worth consideration. ::Ceciri smiles:: Definitely worth it, yes. Tri’lea smiled rather impishly at the idea. Polgonz: Whatever we decide, when the time comes, it will be whatever is best for the both of us. Ariadust: Agreed. (( End Flashback )) The Cygnian Priestess smiled upon them, then set the tome down upon the Altar. Stepping forward, between them, she held out her hands – palms towards each of them. Her left, she placed upon Ceciri’s breastplate, and her right, she placed upon Tri’lea’s chest. Priestess: Your determination flows through you, ceaseless as the river… I am convinced. You may draw your blades. She stepped back, clearing room between the two intendeds. Ariadust: In the sight of the fairies, I draw my blade. With this blade, I commit all that I am, or will ever be, or may ever be, to fight for my wife, to hold her honor as mine, to hold her wants above mine, to fight for our future. Tri’lea followed suit, drawing the ceremonial sword from the sheath at her hip, worn and wielded in the style that Ceciri had taught her. The blades crossed between them, reflecting the glittering light of the falls, little stars dancing across each of their faces. Polgonz: ::Reciting:: With this blade, I commit all that I am, or will ever be, or may ever be, to fight for my wife, to hold her honor as mine, to hold her wants above mine, to fight for our future. Priestess: Then, under the watchful judgment of the faeries, the Honoured Matron of the Forest Altar, acknowledge your sworn oaths and hereby do pronounce you bound as one and bid you seal your vows. Lowering the sword, Tri’lea stepped forward, caressing Ceciri’s – her wife’s – cheek tenderly. Their union had taken its time in the coming, but now already it began to feel too long past, and she wanted nothing more than to wrap herself in the fearsome warrior woman’s strong embrace. Polgonz: There, you see, Imzadi? ::Small smile:: Nothing can stand in our way. Now, nor ever again. Ariadust: Never again. ::Ceciri smiles, a bit.:: Closing their eyes, and sealing their vow with a kiss, the two shared in a moment which felt almost prophesied years ago… (( Flashback – 2399 )) Polgonz: The more I learn about you, the more I get to know you, the more thrilled I am that fate has brought the two of us together. I don’t think we ever would have met under normal circumstances, but I can’t imagine a more interesting.. worldly.. ::struggling to find words with enough value to communicate her meaning:: ..talented and.. wondrous person. Ceciri would have liked to respond, but she was too fiercely blushing to respond as she fought to find words that fit the moment. Lea could sense Ceciri again now, their feelings mixing in the space between them, pulling them together. Their faces already close, Lea could see the blue light of the sea reflected in Ceciri’s eyes – enticing pools drawing her ever closer. Before there was time to think, emotion took over, and they shared a brief but unwavering kiss that was hard to part from. Polgonz: ::Blushing and breathing heavily, her heart pounding:: Yes… most wondrous. Ceciri just nodded, leaning against the slightly shorter woman as she tangled their hands for a moment. She.. could not remember her first kiss, but she knew it and her last kiss before that had been .. decades ago. And at the moment, she was still swept up in the emotions swirling between them. If she could have moments like this more often.. She could learn to love having more of her telepathic and empathic abilities. Even with the frustration they brought. Polgonz: ::Sensing Ceciri’s thoughts:: Me too… ::Caressing her ear and cheek:: Your mind, your spirit, is just as beautiful to me. Ariadust: ::softly:: Same. (( End Flashback )) Priestess: And now, Ceciri c’Ariadust and Tri’lea c’Ariadust, I bear witness to and avow that you are forever bound in matrimony. From this day, until the end of all things. END ((OOC – The song that inspired the title of this sim: Chairlift - I Belong In Your Arms)) ((OOC – Also special shoutout to this song that I listened to extensively while writing this: Enya - Book of Days)) Tri'lea Doyoxo Ariadust (as played by @Robin Hopper) Daughter of the Twentieth House of Betazed V239806K11 & Lt. Ceciri Ariadust (as played by @Nadeshiko) Helm Officer, Amity Outpost C2391112CA0 & Ucron Dro (as played by @Cassian Iovianus) Son of the Twentieth House of Betazed O238506JO0

I really enjoyed the interaction between these two characters. IC: (( Skunkworks, Administrative Area, Denali Station)) It didn't fit. oO Fracking, k'ossting, .... Oo In front of her was the Norton's carburetor, in about 15 pieces. She had asked Crastrid's staff to send her what amounted to a genuine rebuild kit, rare, hard to find, and as it turns out, incomplete. Some of the synthetic parts hard deteriorated over time and the computer was balking at replicating new ones. Oddas: ::muttering, sofly:: Build the most sophisticated Starship in the Fleet, ::this 400-year-old thing eludes you::. She tossed the wrench - which she had to specially replicate - to the side, letting it clatter loudly to the ground. There was another Starfleeter doing some work who looked up, but was polite enough to ignore her and go back to his work. Aria stood, stretching and popping her back. Stelek: Did the machine do something wrong? Oddas: Other than existing? Stelek: ::dryly:: Other than existing. Aria glared at the Vulcan, who had the audacity to stand and look back impassively. Oddas: Having fun? Stelek: I assure you that is not the case. ::beat:: What is the real problem? Oddas: Maybe I've decided I just don't like this thing anymore. She gestured toward the motorcycle and instantly regretted it - it had been Irina's, and one of the things her family had insisted Aria keep after she passed. Aria leaned on the table and thanked the Prophet's Stelek's logic wouldn't force her to come and hug her. Oddas: I didn't mean it. ::beat:: I snapped at an Ensign, the Counselor. Stelek: Did they deserve it? She turned and leaned her back against the table, focusing on the other woman instead of the machine. Oddas: Could they? If they did, I doubt they should have gotten it from me. Aria thought she saw Stelek tilt her head slightly, the Vulcan shrug. Stelek: It's been my experience that the higher up the correction comes from, the less likely it is to need to be repeated. The Commodore let out a deep sigh and then a low growl. Oddas: This is why I hate the social aspects of my job. Stelek: You hide it remarkably well. Stelek raised an eyebrow and looked around the room; Aria smirked at the obvious sarcasm. After a moment, she realized there were footsteps approaching. Any: Response TAG, TBC ((OOC: Anyone who wants to join in, please feel free. )) Commodore Oddas Aria Commanding Officer Denali Station E239305OA0

This sim from @Quentin Beck is sad and beautifully written. It's also absolutely evil that he'd write a sim where he got to decide how much death was on his specific watch like this, but it really personalizes you to Quentin in a different way than his normal amount of sass. It's a great sim. ❤️