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(( Ohnari’s Quarters - USS Constitution-B )) Finding the real liquor was probably not a wise thing. After having a long thought about what she wanted to do with her life, she had decided. The best way to make this type of decision was tipsy. That was why she was standing in front of Talia Ohnari’s quarters. She would recognize her, of course, she would, but at least the last time she had shown up to acost her, they left on good terms. The Orion rang the bell and waited until it opened. Grinning at the dark-haired woman who answered, Shedet shoved the extra bottle of wine toward her. Shedet: I…::hiccup::...have come to kidnap you again. Talia had confirmed that this blonde Orion, was the same blonde Orion that had taken over a passenger transport and made her miss the majority of her 7th brother’s wedding. She had planned on confronting her and demanding to know what she was doing in Starfleet….but she followed Cade Foster’s lead. He seemed to trust her. As did the Commodore. So..she decided to watch, and make her own opinion… Ohnari: ::brow raise, crossing her arms against her chest:: oO So much for my opinion…Oo Uuh…no? I’m kind of in my pajamas. As if the fuzzy tribble slippers and matching T-Shirt and shorts were a valid reason to prevent kidnapping. Shedet: For fun this time. Loooonnnnnggg story about how I am here….and how you’re here….but I gotta get my stuff from an Orion matron who is NOT going to be happy with my choices. Thought you’d like to stick it to them again and I need the help. Loooong story that wasn’t that long. She enlisted in Starfleet, end of story. And she assumed the drunk little greenie in pigtails in front of her had done similarly. Ohnari: And who exactly is going to be flying the runabout…? Seems a little dangerous given your current…uh…state. And didn’t we just avoid getting shot at ?? Shedet: Dangerous? Nah…maybe. Depends on their aim. This pseudo pirate woman was going to get herself killed. Her eyes rolled to the skies and she prayed for guidance. The deck plating didn’t answer. Tossing her hands up in exasperation. Ohnari: Alright, get in here. Give me five minutes to change. Shedet: Sure! (( Cargo Deck - Starbase 104 )) Getting to the cargo section of Starbase 104 was not difficult. The difficult part was convincing Ohanri to leave her commbadge in her room. What they were about to do wasn't quite legal. Well, retrieving her possessions was legal but not how she was going to. The cargo section of the station was massive and filled with interconnected containers and large cabins that were sectioned off for offices and storage for the many companies and independent freighters that came and went. It was Yadon Shipping that she as targetting. Matron Ishiv used it as one of their fronts. Starfleet Intelligence knew as many Cartels let it be known in case SFI wanted to hire them. That status created an uneasy piece which meant Shedet's plan had a lot better chance of succeeding. The Orion guards were not going to want to open fire with their weapons too quickly as Starfleet Security would descend on them. Now, the two heavy double doors ahead were closed, a cargo skiff humming quietly by the door with a few plasteel containers on it. Two guards stood there, burly and strong with no weapons but Shedet knew they could hold their own. Both she and Ohanri were crouched behind a few abandoned containers that were haphazard on the gangplank to the Yadon Shipping headquarters. They were in the open air section of the station so the wind blew while a few skiffs and a shuttle would fly overhead towards another part of the station. Crouching back down and looking to Ohnari, Shedet thumbed over her shoulder. Shedet: Alright, that's our target. Two guards on the outside. More than likely three or four on the inside. Matron Ishiv isn't here so we don't have to worry about her entorage. Ohnari: ::glaring:: Oh is that all? Why didn't you say so. I'll just waltz up to the door and politely ask for your stuff back then. She was grumpy. Awoken by a crazy lady in pigtails half drunk and forcing her on a reckless adventure in the name of "fun" does that to you. Shedet: ::smirk:: You're going to distract them in that outfit? Glancing down at the off color jumpsuit she snapped her eyes back up. Wasn't this whole thing her plan?? Ohanri: ::bitingly:: Well my stars, I've seemed to have left my tactical bikini back on the Conny! Although the damndest part about it, she wasn't wrong. Hissing out in frustration, Talia yanked out the band in her hair, shook out the ebony waves while angrily unbuttoning an alarming amount of buttons and shoving her arms out of the sleeves. Tying them tightly around her waist, she glared with as much venom as she could, half crouched, displaying a tight undershirt wide band of skin, and suit hugging her hips. Ohnair: I swear if I die like this, I'm coming back to haunt you. Shedet just grinned Suffice to say, Ohnari was better at it than Shedet had thought. They were distracted long enough for Shedet to sneak up and render them unconscious with the subtle “slam their head into the side of a crate” maneuver. The office was dark and dusty. It appeared that it had not been used in quite awhile. The low watt safety lights were on which gave enough shadow for them to creep through. Shedet led the way knowing Ohnari had her back. Why and how the Orion could not figure out but her brain was still a bit clouded from the alcohol. The adrenalin though was slowly clearing it. Peering over a parked skiff that was powered down and looked as if it hadn't been moved in a few years, Shedet knew her stuff would be in the room between the guard shack and the empty office. Motioning quietly, the two crept to the storage room, gently opened the door, tried to will the squeaky hinges silent, and slid in. Shedet looked at the pile of stuff in the room. Shedet: Okay! My bag is gonna be green with blue stripes. Talia was absolutely certain this was some kind of elaborate prank. At any moment now, the crew of the Conny was going to jump out and shout "SURPRISE!!!". Anything to scrub the memory of trying to distract the guards by asking them if they had any spare tool grease to lend her….Shedet could not have knocked them out any faster. Ohnari: There isn't a bomb in there or anything…is there? Shedet: Nah. Nothing so exciting. Trying to be as quiet as possible, her heel caught the side of a crate, trying to muffle her cry of pain, Talia shoved her face into the nearest thing she could find: A green bag with slightly faded blue stripes. Ohnari: ::hushed:: I uh…found it I think. The Orion shifted through it and nodded mostly to herself. Everything was there. Her gauntlet, clothes, everything she had planned to take before changing her mind. Shedet: Now…the office. To erase our presence. Having made their way to the office, pushing aside a civilian stun phaser that was laid there, Shedet quickly tapped on the computer bringing it alive. It only took a few minutes to bypass the ancient security and wiped the log and cameras of their presence. She set the reboot for the next 20 minutes. If they were lucky, no one would realize what they had done. Shedet: Alright. I've got the camera footage wiped out. We just need to make our way out the way we came---- The door opened and the duo found themselves standing in front of an older Orion with dark head and an intricate crown that advertised her status as a Matron. Ishiv: ::confused:: Shedet? Shedet: Frak! Without thinking about it, she grabbed the phaser from the desk, checked the setting at a glance and fire dropping the woman where she stood. Ohnari: ::eyes widening:: I thought you said she wasn't going to be here! And you just shot her??? Habitually, the doctor in her shook off the shock and inspected the now prone figure for life signs. Of course they were there, and strong. Shedet: ::panicking:: I don't know! I thought that was the best option. That's my old Matron I'm trying to avoid. Ohnari: I gathered. Based on the gaudy hat of hers…do you always shoot first or are you just showing off for me? Shedet: Fine. Next time we raid a Syndicate base and run into your matron, I'll let you decide. Ohnari: ::barking out a laugh:: Right. As if I'm ever gonna get in a turbolift with you ever again after this. Can we go before there are more unexpected visitors?? Then, a thought hit her. Her face broke into a devious grin. Ohnari: Wait- Quickly Talia dropped down and snatched the ornate crown off the prone woman's head. Ohnari: ::grinning:: Souvenir. Shedet grinned back at her new friend. Shedet: Great minds! With that, they scurried out the door to the surprise and alarm of the new Orions that had arrived. Suffice to say, none of them knew what was going on in the dark and by the time they had figured it out, Shedet and Talia were long gone. The two threw themselves into the industrial turbolift and it began its descent back to civilization. Shedet slumped to the floor, turned to look at Talia and then laughed. Shedet: Okay. That was more chaos than I intended. The adrenaline was coursing through her veins, so much that for the last hour, the logical part of her brain just completely shut down in utter protest. Ohnari: When DO you intend chaos…? Because I want fair warning so I can hop through the nearest wormhole to avoid it. Shedet: Don’t give me that. You thoroughly enjoyed that. ::pointing to crown:: Not to mention you’re turning into a pretty good pirate. Talia grinned and placed the ornate crown haphazardly on her head and gave a haughty wave. Ohnari: ::adopting an overly snooty accent:: I simply have no idea of what you speak, my dear. I am a model citizen. She burst into a fit of giggles as she slipped off the ridiculous crown. Shedet: Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that. You just showed me you got a wild side. We’re going to be best of friends. Just like I thought we would when I kidnapped you. Ohnari: ::smirking:: Just how every solid friendship begins, on a foundation of felonies and escapades…. --- JP By… Ensign Talia Ohnari, MD USS Constitution-B C239205ME0 & Chief Petty Officer Shedet Science Officer USS Constitution-B V238008N10

Quips, quotes, advice, it all goes here! What's happening on the Oumuamua? And should we be afraid?

OOC: I love the enthusiasm! IC: ((Academy Grounds – Starbase 118)) oO So...tell me: please, Nella. Enlighten me. Tell me what we're doing, exactly. Tell it to me straight so's I can understand it better . . . Oo “ . . . so much to see” a young Iotian woman in a mint-condition dress uniform surveyed her faint reflection in a huge panel of glass creating an expansive portal into the open universe. This could also be described as a big window. The purest vacuum of space held all the beauty of the Trinity Sector in perfect stillness before her. Her dark-haired reflected figure carried a PADD as it matched her brisk stride in mirror-image, and the text: “ AWAITING ORDERS” bobbed in reverse on the device's bright display. Nella was attempting to practice reading backwards while moving, to pass the time. oO Am I actually doing it? Or am I just cheatin' because I know what it says . . . Oo Her heart was thumping like an obsolete warp core. The worst thing Nella could do for her current state of mind was remain idle and still, yet she paused a moment. Her faint mirror image stared with dark-blue eyes and placed an olive-skinned finger on the single yellow metal pip that now adorned her collar. It felt at once foreign and familiar. Graduation day. “Ensign” Nella Noxwyn. The new title was itself as pristine as the formal uniform Nella was issued this morning; exciting, tidy, rather uncomfortable, commanding more respect than a typical crewman or cadet. Ultimately, all Ensign Noxwyn could expect to feel as she broke into her role as a newly-minted security officer—the rigid, fresh-scented, unbroken baseball glove of her Starfleet career would eventually become a like second skin, her profession an extension of her life purpose. The pressures put on her yellow-banded shoulders would be as the mattresses sandwiching a new mitt, softening the leather, making it into something supple, flexible and familiar. Starfleet protocol was a bone-white baseball stuffed inside this glove, giving it shape and form and depth and meaning. A properly broken-in security officer was like an old baseball mitt; with proper care and attention, it could reliably catch anything a mind and body could. oO This picture of you in uniform fits like a glove... Well, a glove that fits well. Plenty of gloves that are too big or too small, fit on, but they don't fit. A glove that fits good, or well.. well.. I dunno... I haven't played baseball in a long time, and Feds all run the bases in the wrong direction... Oh! What am I talkin' about?! Oo Nella kept occupied as she paced along a narrow observation concourse roughly ten metres' distance from the noisy grouping of excited former cadets and entourage. In the vast window directly ahead of her, she paused again to observe the boundless expanse of space and light-emitting objects. Nella also noticed flashes from professional photography equipment interrupting the expansive pane of glass, lights from the Federation News Network team that milled about as they covered the ongoing celebrations behind her. A photographer over there ordered the computer to momentarily alter the ambient lighting. In the new mode, Nella now saw a near-perfect mirror image of the luminous scene of graduates in the reflecting glass. oO Never turn your back on a room—unless you can see behind you and you know where you're going Oo Echoes of one of few clear memories of 'something her father said' repeated in her mind as she waited. Then she thought more about him and swallowed down the memory like bile. oO Let's think of something else—anything else . . . uh, how was your morning, Nella? Oo Earlier, she had been on her way to a star ship—her first assignment. There had been an unexpected development: “Academy Grounds – Starbase 118. Wait for contact from leadership,” the new orders had come to her PADD over an hour ago. Nella wondered which cheery 'El-Tee-Jay-Gee' from the crowd behind her would emerge to feign a long-time familiarity with her, as humans often did in new and uncomfortable situations. Now she heard shouts and cheers and shrieks of glee from the crowd—perhaps the Academy's Parises Squares team had made a collective appearance at the graduation after their recent setback at the conference semi-finals; to massage their morale. oO I want nothin' to do with that drummering... Not my monkeys, not my circus... bunch of space cadets... Oo ::Ensign Noxwyn reflected a moment, facing a window:: The ambient lighting flickered back to its previous settings. “Thanks everyone!” someone shouted. There was a general cry of “Woo!”. Her head swung over to the sound of multiple approaching footsteps on deck-plating. A group of fresh young graduates approached Nella, one of whom broke forward at a rapid pace, and extended an arm toward her. She didn't recognize any of them. oO Finally! I was beginning to think these “new orders” were somebody's idea of a joke! Oo In the foreman-graduate's hand, he held a small device. It was for taking photos. He flashed a set of white teeth. “Hi! Can we take a picture?” his arm alternated between pointing at himself and a cluster of three other cadets of mixed species and gender, some of whom made eye-contact and waved at Nella. She realized immediately these were not the people she was waiting for. “Sure pal, you just have to believe in yourselves and you'll figure it out”, Nella squeezed his extended arm reassuringly before turning and escaping with a strong walk. oO I'd rather be outside in a space suit than in the middle of this racket. Scratch that—I just wanna get outta here. This waitin's for somebody with time to feed the birds! Oo Nella was about to split and head all the way over to administration to clarify her “new orders” with a superior but paused after having made it across the room from the window she had been beside. Nella raised her PADD and re-read the document containing her new orders. She didn't want to miss her first assignment because somebody behind a desk got wise and sent her to the wrong ship, even worse if somehow the mistake was of her own making! Taybrim: Ensign Noxwyn? A red-haired man a few inches shorter than she was had gotten the jump on her. The Commodore! He spoke in a warm, welcoming tone and smiled in a calm, reassuring manner. Very personable, very warm, as if he was just some lieutenant here to catch her up on things. oO . . . and the worst part about it is, he got the jump on me! Oo Taybrim: I wanted to welcome you to StarBase 118. His near-black irises twinkled like sunglasses at a card table. Noxwyn: You? . . . wanted to welcome me? . . . Sir? . . . Commodore? The quick-moving man waved her forward with an arm that seemed to be plotting their course and heading with an intangible sense of authority. They broke into a walking pace that was just a quarter-step faster than Nella's tried and true rhythm, on the edge of behind a light jog. They were heading somewhere fast. Well, you see, I requested a special placement for security and we are launching for our mission in the next seventy minutes. So I hope you’re ready for an adventure, Ensign? oO Seventy minutes?! Oo Noxwyn: ::her hand went to her hip and felt a noticeable lack of phaser:: I can't say that I'm packed, Commodore. Taybrim: I assure you, one of the most delightful things about immediately going on a mission is that some of the lovely housing officers will have everything moved to your new quarters, ready and waiting for you when you return. No fuss, no hassle, just walk in, unpack and enjoy. Noxwyn: ::with a hint of confusion:: Yes, sir. The pace he had set was brisk, but Nella was beginning to hit stride with the Commodore. It was manageable, but her gams would feel this tomorrow. ::looking at the Commodore's legs in stride:: oO And how much walking have those legs done?! Oo Taybrim: By your academy performance, Starfleet felt you were a perfect candidate for this position and this mission. ::His eyes were near-black enough to catch the glint of an overhead light as they passed beneath, causing them to appear to twinkle ::Which we’ll go over in more detail once we get underway. Noxwyn: Thank you, sir. Understood. ::appearing not to fully understand:: They had reached the main turbolift, and the same hand which commanded the entire Starbase ushered her inside the rapid conveyor that could take days, if not weeks, off a top-to-bottom journey through the immese spacedock. ((Main Turbolift, Ascending)) Commodore Taybrim worked the control panel for longer than was typically necessary to input a course for the lift. The computer made an atypical chirp, but it was an acknowledgement of whatever instructions the Commodore had given it. Taybrim: Don’t be alarmed. The mission we’re going on is classified and unfortunately our good deeds from the last few missions have made us a prime target of interest from many unsavory factions. And the Federation News Service. Noxwyn: Sir, I believe you said “don't be alarmed” and “prime target” in the same sentence. Nella almost felt like throwing up as she realized she had taken a more familiar tone with the Commodore than she probably should at this stage in her career. Worse, the turbolift activated and took them upward, faster than she ever knew turbolifts could go! She thought felt her heart hit her knees. There was a pain in her midsection, like a bubble that needed to be burst. Taybrim: We’re off to diffuse a bomb, Ensign. A cult faction has levelled a threat against the Federation and had a stolen tri-cobalt device in their possession. Noxwyn was about to speak, but was intruded upon by the sudden unsubtle sound of her own flatulence. Yes, it was a normal and natural response to sudden stress, but it was also in an elevator with the Commodore. This incident wouldn't likely be forgotten, but hopefully would remain just between them. Noxwyn: Well . . . shoot! :: looking to the Commodore in horror, her mind absent of anything else to say :: On the plus side, her stomach started to feel better. She felt worse about everything else. Especially the word “bomb”. A bomb had torn her childhood apart and probably killed her mother. Taybrim: Response

Really wonderful opening narration on this sim! Great job, Lieutenant! ((Briefing room – StarBase 118)) She had heard of “Tension being so thick you could cut it with a knife” but the room at the moment - the tension was so thick, a jackhammer would have been needed. She heard her name called and looked to Sal, and nodded as he instructed she would be working with him, Yael and Bailey. Blackwell: Yes, Sir Taybrim: You have two hours before the Narendra launches. Once on board we’ll have some time to coordinate with the Trinity-Serellian defense fleet before focusing on these tasks. Any questions? Luthas: I’m good sir. Bailey: No Sir. As the room started to clear, she stepped out, moving to the next stage in the planning. ((time Skip - Co’s office)) Rue was in the CO’s office as soon as possible, ready to get into the meat of their investigation. Rue rarely described hating things. Hate to her…was an ugly, savage emotion, one that tore at the one who felt it even as it tore at the people it was directed at. Rue hated Terra Prime. She felt that leadened, ugly feeling resting on her. She hated these people. She hated them for their hate, for their beliefs, for their paradigms. She hated that their irrational behavior was putting countless lives in danger, and had already done so. She had spent time reading up on Terra Prime, and other similar groups to theirs, to work to understand their psychology, the way that these groups formed. It was a great deal of feeling victimized themselves, often due to difficult, problematic living conditions. While Rue could in some sense…empathize with that, given the modern era, the resources, the fact - they could have- simply had things better and just accepted differences….but chose - this- form of horrorific response…it raised something ugly in Rue. It felt like there was a razor against her skin, making shallow, sharp cuts. She hated Terra Prime. She was attempting to deal with that emotion, to smother it, focus on what /could/ be done, when Bailey walked in. Bailey: Good day to everyone. ::She nodded to each in turn:: Certainly a pity we have to meet under such circumstances. Blackwell:::She managed a light smile:: Agreed - Taybrim: Response Bailey: I’ll cut right to it, in case the information is perceived not necessary. I once compared my uncle to Terra Prime. As such, I brought the Elaysian police report that was previously filled for him. I figured the information on his behavior could give us some insight into Terra Prime. Blackwell: All right. ::She quirked a brow, ready to listen:: Taybrim: Response Bailey: Certainly Sir. A file folder was handed to Taybrim. Bailey: I had the documents transferred to paper, hence why it’s not digital. ::her cheeks blushed red with slight embarrassment:: Blackwell:::She looked curious and glanced at Bailey:: So who is this uncle? Taybrim/Bailey Blackwell:::She smiled faintly:: Everyone has something in their family they are not proud of. Just few are willing to share. I appreciate you bringing this to us. Taybrim/Bailey Blackwell: I read a lot on the psychology of similar hate groups, and to try and find a bit more into…the thinking that develops there, but I’m curious to hear what you have ::She nodded to Bailey:: -- Lt. Prudence Blackwell Comms/Ops Starbase 118 G239308PB0

OOC: Don K, writer behind V'Len Kel has taken the NPC prosecutor in an inquiry into certain actions by Wes Greaves. I read this post and went 'wow'. Like Wes likes to say, he's "killing it". Great job! Oh, and I left his ooc comment because I thought it was amusing. 😄 IC: (OOC - If you hate this character then I'm doing my job. If you don't hate him let me know what it would take to make you hate him.) (( Conference Room, Deck One, USS ‘Oumuamua )) Walking into the room Ress ch'Reiji sat himself across the table from the advocate, a Bajoran woman who he hoped would zealously do her job. He had been given one clear objective by his benefactors who had manipulated him to be the prosecutor at this inquest. Discredit the Marines. The man himself, Major Was Greaves, was of no consequence and if he lost or kept his position it did not matter. What did matter was making sure public opinion turned against the use of marine detachments on Starfleet vessels. His benefactors came in two stripes, first the peaceniks types. Betazoids and Vulcans and the like who idealized the last century when Starfleet was a diplomatic and exploratory organization. A pan-galactic war and countless invasions later Starfleet had come to resemble so many groups it claimed to stand apart from. The other set of benefactors came from his own home world, Andoria. Andoria had been the seat of a great empire whose warriors rivaled the Klingons in their prowess and battle tenacity. The forebears of the current government had agreed to lay down arms and join with the humans in peace and understanding. And here two and a half centuries on the humans made up the bulk of Starfleet and its marines with the Andorians known only for their art schools and skiing. That needed to change in the mind of his benefactors. If the Federation was going to become an empire, then the people who knew about empire and military might, Andorians, should be at the helm. His pale skin glistened slightly with sweat in the warmth of the conference room, which was much too hot for his liking. He was no Aenar of course, he was simply old. He'd been arguing in courts across the Federation for better than 50 years and this was to be his final opus. It was time to get on with it. Greaves: Major Wes Greaves reporting as ordered, ma’am. V’Airu: Just so. Greaves, please sit. She indicated the seat opposite her. The human was impressive. Overgrown and likely on a hair trigger much of the time. Ress expected he could exploit this. Greaves: Aye aye, ma’am. His decorations glinted as he took his seat, and Ossa raised one brow no more than a millimeter. A successful point, made entirely nonverbally. V’Airu: Major, Counselors. The hearing will now commence. Defense? Renora: Thank you, Ma’am. ::Standing:: Captain Renora Loret, Starfleet Marine Corps., Judge Advocate Division. I am appearing for Major Wes Greaves as counsel and advocate during this inquest. V'Airu: Thank you, Captain. Prosecution? Ress: My name is Ress ch'Reiji. It's interesting that the major would require an advocate and that you, Commodore, would call me a prosecutor. ::Looking at Greaves and raising an eyebrow:: I'm simply here to listen to your story. That you need an advocate however, suggests you are not as confident in the decisions you made at Okaea. I look forward to hearing your tale. He sat back and nodded to V'Airu. V'Airu: Thank you. Her gaze settled squarely on Greaves, and a hint of disappointment crept into her voice as she addressed him directly. V'Airu: These proceedings are voluntary. Major, do you wish to continue? Greaves: I understand my rights and wish to participate. I owe that at least to those who didn’t make it home. V’Airu: Very well. Ress: ::softly, but loud enough:: The triple digit number of people who didn't make it home. The Bajoran jumped in. Renora: If it please the chair, before we begin, I would like to ask Major Greaves if there is anything about the process he would like to clarify regarding this process? Greaves: I have to admit, this is my first time with something like this. How do these proceedings usually go? Am I here to defend myself, or is this just a fact-finding process? Renora was already upright and ready to answer, though she looked to Ossa first to ask permission. Ress suppressed a small smile. The whole cast was already in defense mode. Already worried and second guessing themselves. That Starfleet felt the Marine XO needed "defending" for his decisions would speak volumes in the Federation press corp. Renora: If I may, Ma’am? Major Greaves, this is not a dissimilar process to a coroner’s inquest or a medical morbidity and mortality conference. The aim of this inquest is to establish the timeline of events that led to the near destruction of the USS Thor and the loss of life associated with that. The decisions that were taken, by whom, and under what circumstances, what lessons can be learned and how repetition can be avoided. Renora concluded with another, perhaps slightly more deferential look to Ossa. However, Ossa found she had little to add. V'Airu: All correct. This is SOP for the full or partial loss of a capital ship. (Beat) However. There is an additional element to these proceedings. (beat) If you are to be my executive officer, Major, then I wish to review your arrested command of the Thor in full detail. Ress again suppressed a smile. That V'Airu would continue Kell's poor judgment a man who brought down a starship could call her judgment into question. Prosecutor: ::Gently:: As I've already stated, I just want to hear your story and the story of the other officers involved in this tragic and deadly turn of events. Greaves: Responses Renora: Should there be grounds for further action then that will be taken forward by the Judge Advocate General as appropriate. V'Airu: We don't anticipate that to be the case. This was said with a pointed glance at both counselors Ress jumped in immediately. Prosecutor: Commodore with all due respect if I am the prosecutor and she ::gesturing:: is the advocate, I must ask you to remain impartial. When you say "We don't anticipate that to be the case." it sounds as if you have made up your mind about the Major's actions in advance. :: gruffly:: This is a warning, but if needed I can find a more impartial 3rd party to conduct these proceedings. ::calmly:: Let us all proceed with an open mind. Greaves: Responses Renora: And my role is to advise you on legal matters and legislation, ensure that you are given the opportunity to speak fully and clearly and that your rights, as an individual, are respected. Ress: ::smiling:: Still here to listen. Greaves: Responses Thus preempted, Ossa waited a few moments for silence, and then asked her first question. V'Airu: You were ultimately able to retain command of the Thor, even once it crashed on Okaea. However. You made the decision to order full evacuation prior to deorbiting. Why? Ress immediately jumped over the Commodore's question. Ress: Before we get to that Commodore, for the record I want to make sure we are all clear on what happened at Okaea. The USS Thor was ambushed by some very savy pirates who not only injured Commodore Aron Kells, but who also caused the Thor to crash land in the Okaea ocean. While not a total loss the USS Thor will need a lengthy rehabilitation. While under Major Greaves command 120 individuals lost their lives and a further 200 were injured, some severely. I don't say this to dredge up bad memories, but merely to make sure we all, for the record, understand the incident we are here to discuss. (beat) Now I would like to go back a bit further than the commodore and hear about your training Major Greaves. How long were you part of Starfleet Academy's command training program? V'Airu/Greaves/Renora: Responses Ress: ::sighing:: It is highly relevant. You see Major Greaves is wearing a Marine green uniform, not Command red. Starfleet regulations are clear that command officers need to train in the command discipline and, for the record, I'd like to hear about Major Greaves command training. V'Airu/Greaves/Renora: Responses It wasn't the answer Ress had wanted, but perhaps a follow up would help the press see the man's motivation Ress: So you did attend Starfleet Academy (beat) after you spent some time in the Marines. A warrior first eh Major? ::smiling:: Very good. V'Airu/Greaves/Renora: Responses Ress: My apologies Commodore V'Airu for the digression, I simply wanted to (beat) capture all these facets. So Major, why did you make the decision to order full evacuation prior to deorbiting? V'Airu/Greaves/Renora: Responses Tags! and TBC! -- Lieutenant JG V’Len Kel Medical Officer USS Thor (NCC-82607) T239811VK2 He/Him (character and player)

Everything I just said about Brian could also go for Ryan here - again, a tiny timescale to whip up a realistic MSNPC based on a real person and man did he deliver - thank you @Hallia Yellir ((Edo Castle, Japan, 1859)) In moments that felt like raging storms, there were small times like these where everything seemed to be seemingly dealt with. In spite of the weighing politics that were ever-present in Ii’s position, swarming outside the walls of this grand castle — the monument of his leadership and power. One of the few bastions of power left within the Shogunate. Marching through his castle, Ii took every step with a metallic ‘thunk’. The iron plating of his armour rattled with seemingly every step he took. Despite it being lightweight, there was an odd chafe around his neck he could never quite get over. But on this particular day, despite everything being taken care of, for the most part, there was one thing he needed to find. An old heirloom, that had been long forgotten in the underbelly of this grand castle. One he perhaps may have placed, and simply forgotten about long ago. Ii slid open the door, there was the unmistakable stench of stale air. With the little illumination from a dying paper lantern, the outline of figures graced his vision. At first, he wrote them off, simply as servants, but upon closer inspection, he wrapped his hand around the hilt of his weapon. With narrowed eyes, he shouted. Ii Naosuke: Intruders. Identify yourselves! Given the recent unrest and suspicion within the other of the Shogunate, Ii had perhaps a small shadow of a doubt that these intruders may wish harm upon him. But… they didn’t look like the people he would recognize. Most of them shared features of the Dutch and Americans he had dealings with. Silveira: How did we get here? What are you talking about? And where is my bra? Etan: What’s going on? ::he blurted out, looking at each of the other officers in turn.:: Tiberius: I think we need just need to stay calm and talk this out. His anger only seemed to boil with the lack of explanation. Nothing came of his simple order and that frustrated him. They were, after all, in Ii’s domain, and it was foolish of these… interlopers to enter the bowels of his castle, his home, without even asking for his hospitality. Nicholotti: Let's work the problem. What do we know, and what do we think we know? Ii Naosuke: Have you no honour?! You will face me when you speak. You all trespass on my domain. The group huddled and whispered in hushed tones as if contemplating their next move and Ii observed closely. Some of them seemed dressed… strangely, one was dressed much like the Europeans he had passingly spoken to and heard of, and another had… odd ridges on the bridge of his nose. The other two seemed normal for the most part. After a few moments he took a step downwards into the room, tugging on the hilt of his katana and half pulling the blade from its heavy sheath. Ii Naosuke: You cowardly foreigners conspire amongst yourselves, and you do no acknowledge and bow before he, who is in your presence? Silveira: My Lord, you have been provided with false information. I am not a baka gaijin. I am Vitor Silveira. Count of Marmelos and I assure you neither my servants ::he gestured to Jor and Tib.:: nor my wife ::he gestured to Kali:: have done anything dishonorable or wrong. Silveira: I do not wish to insult you, but those accusations stain my honor. And that is something both your people and mine take in the highest account. But out of respect for you I might consider it as a misguided act. There was a pause in Ii’s thought process. This foreigner spoke perfectly in such a way that had caught the Damoyo completely off guard. Ii Naosuke: You have entered my castle, my home without my acknowledgement. I wish to know what ‘misguided’ act caused you to do so. After all, it is difficult to miss where my domain starts and ends. Nicholotti / Tiberius: Response. Etan: My master speaks the truth, My Lord. ::beat:: We have no reason to seek a quarrel with you. ::he said with a low bow. He didn’t know why exactly he did so, but it seemed to feel right.:: We were set upon during our journey last night and brought to this… place. Silveira: Response. Ii Naosuke: How? Did you wander in, caught in some drunken stupor? Nicholotti / Tiberius: Response. Etan: If you will permit me, my lord, might I enquire as to where we are? We are most disorientated. ::he waved a hand towards the Commodore and Tiberius.:: Silveira: Response. Now the gears were really beginning to turn. These people seemed genuinely confused as to where they were, and that only seemed to rile up Ii even more. Either he was being made a fool of by some practical joke, or his guards were so incompetent, that four drunk foreigners managed to sneak into the very base of his castle without so much as turning a head. He returned his weapon into the sheath, but still kept a hand on the hilt. Ii Naosuke: You’re in Edo Castle. The beating heart of my domain. Nicholotti / Tiberius: Response. Etan: The people of… Marmelos- ::he looked to Sil with deference, hoping that he had gotten the name of the place he had said correct:: -have no desire to interfere with the cultural affairs of your people, My Lord. We simply wished to view your… domain. Silveira: Response. Ii Naosuke: And yet, do the people of Marmelos view status as nothing but a floor to walk on? Nicholotti / Tiberius: Response. Ii Naosuke: This… ‘Marmelos’ this is from Europe, correct? Etan / Nicholotti / Silveira / Tiberius: Response? Ii Naosuke: Then give me one reason why I shouldn’t simply cut you all down as we speak? Etan / Nicholotti / Silveira / Tiberius: Response? ______________________________ Ii Naosuke Daimyō of Hikone Tairō of the Tokugawa shogunate As Written by… Lieutenant Hallia Yellir Chief Engineer USS Excalibur-A G239409EK0

@Karrod Niac is a freaking genius. I gave him maybe 30 minutes notice that he was playing an MSNPC this mission, and that they were a real person from history and oh, by the way, here's some tags and a long as heck wikipedia page for them... And he comes out with this beauty. I adore him so much. (( Palace of Versailles – 1715 )) Of late, Louis had tired greatly of the affairs of state. Those things which had so enchanted his mind and embroiled his spirits as a youth had turned sour as he had passed into his seventh decade under God. Endless decades of war to expand his Empire had bourn him successes for decades but much like his vigor, those successes had fled him of late and the latest war with the bedamned English, barely five years gone, had nearly robbed France of all that he had built across his long reign. Though he still had the comforts of his mistress Françoise, the Marquise de Maintenon and mother of his only child for which he still bore affection, he increasingly felt the world grow small and dim and tiresome. His enemies seemed to grow in strength as he diminished and there were none alive who would rule well in his sted. The damnable Protestants, worthless Spainards, and endlessly loathsome English held his ire nearly as well as his pitiful younger brother, Phillipe, whose designs on his divinely proclaimed throne had long been spoken of. Still, even with all the matters of the realm in turmoil, his court had convened for yet another ball. Though he had sworn them all to propriety many years past it seemed that his advisors had grown fat and comfortable, suckling upon him like leeches all these years. Were he a younger man he would've expelled the lot of them and wrapped his fist tight around the reigns of the nation as he had when his mentor Mazarin had died, but he was no longer as he had been. So his nobles fritted away wealth and spoke of him in glowing terms which rang false to his ear. And still, they danced. He'd nearly nodded off in his throne, too much wine and too little sleep for one of his failing vigor, when a commotion went up from the dance floor and drew his attention. Of course it was Phillipe, hated Phillipe, who was first to raise his voice. Phillipe, Duke of Orleans: Who are you all? The orchestra halted mid-note as a murmur of confusion and shock spread around the room. A small group of strangely dressed foreigners seemed to be the loci of the courts attention. Louis squinted through failing eyes to catch a better look at them but could hardly make them out. Yalu: Your Royal Highness, we are visitors. ::beat:: From the Czech lands. A great flood has ravaged our noble home and we have been cared for warmly by your loyal subject, the Bourgmestre of Poitiers. Yellir: We apologize for our sudden appearance, but we wished to meet you so very badly, Your Royal Highness. Adea: And thank you for your hospitality. Jolara: Response Phillipe, Duke of Orleans: ::turning to an elderly man on a throne:: Uncle, who are they? Louis cast the man a scornful sidelong glance before turning his attention to their unusual guests. Louis XIV, the Sun King: We, ::He always used the Regal We when speaking as King:: welcome those displaced of Bohemia...or are you of the Moravian Czechs? Jolara: Response Yellir: ::whispering:: Are we certain that was even the correct title? Yalu: ::whispers:: I don’t know, it just seemed like the right thing to say. ::beat:: I’m going to need someone to help me get up. The Czechs, possibly lowlanders of questionable stock, seemed to be whispering to themselves in his presence, which rankled his good humors. Louis XIV: Odd that this is the first We are hearing of your presence. Tell Us, of what sort of Nobles are you? Some cousin of the Habsburgs? Yalu: We make towels, Your Majesty. Soft, absorbent towels. Suitable for any occasion. Jolara: Response His eyes narrowed. Merchants of linens who claimed nobility? Had the Habsburgs fallen so low of late? Louis XIV: Surely the Czech lands are poor indeed if towels could astound them so. Yellir: Your Most Eminent Highness, they are so soft one could use them as pillows, and you would not even know the difference. Adea: No sire, and if you did, you could take this ::he pointed to his head:: from this ::he pointed to his chest, before looking over at the rest of the group and whispering:: What… too soon? Yalu / Jolara: Response Louis was quickly losing what small measure of patience he had for these imbeciles. Louis XIV: Your japery is quite buffoonish, and you have not yet introduced yourselves in Our presence. What are your names? Where is the Bourgmestre of Poitiers? Bring him forth immediately to account for the behavior of his guests. Hallia kept her voice low whispering to any who would lend their ear. Yellir: ::in a low voice:: I really don’t enjoy being surrounded as we are, where even are we? Adea: ::matching Hallia’s whisper:: I want to say… Earth? Yellir / Yalu / Jolara: Response Louis had officially lost his patience. He raised a craggy hand towards the Captian of the Guard and the man snapped to even stiffer attention. Louis XIV: Guards, take these people from my sight at.... Phillipe extended a bony finger and pointed at them, before letting out a loud guffaw. Phillipe: Uncle, these must be the delicious new comedians we have ordered. They are so so funny with their towels! He laughed, and raised his arms for the court to laugh with him, which they did as one. Genkos chuckled nervously. Adea: What the… Definitely Earth… Old old Earth. Yellir / Yalu / Jolara: Response Louis scowled in anger, confused and more than a bit befuddled. He felt he was being mocked but he did not understand how. Phillipe must have been behind it all somehow. Yet another attempt to make him look the fool. He lowered his hand and his guards stepped back to their waiting but tense positions. Louis XIV: Czech clowns, Phillipe? Are you so bereft of diversion that you would have it imported? Phillipe: Response Adea/Yellir/Yalu/Jolara: Response Louis felt exhaustion creeping back into him and he leaned back heavily upon the throne, the momentary distraction losing what little appeal it had. Louis XIV: Very well, Phillipe, very well, if you wish to waste the courts time on these antics, so be it. Go on with your performance, clowns. Phillipe: Response Adea/Yellir/Yalu/Jolara: Response Louis XIV: Well it seems you've amused my court although We are not so readily jocular. Nor should you be, Phillipe. Phillipe: Response Adea/Yellir/Yalu/Jolara: Response Tags/TBC ====================================== His most Resplendent and Anointed Majesty King Louis The Fourteenth Louis The Grand, Louis The Grand Monarch, Louis, The Sun King V239509GT0

I rarely post my own sims here, but we got a number of supportive messages about the JP, so here it is for your consideration. -------------------------- ((Shopping District, Promenade, Iana Station)) (( OOC: Sometime after the camping trip)) It was weird to be “officially” dating Cory in a non-cheating type of way. She had felt feelings for him ever since the affair years ago. “Affair.” No, that wasn’t quite the right word for what happened between them. Yes, Cory was married to Petra at the time; yes, Cory started flirting with Ayiana behind Petra’s back (much to the confused emotions of Ayiana herself, as Petra had been a close friend). But they never actually “did anything.” Not even kissing. Their first truly romantic excursion was also their last at that fateful dance. Yet somehow, the universe and their hearts had conspired to bring them together. It started in the Skarbekverse, where they were already together; that led Ayiana to consider her deeper, subconscious emotions concerning Cory, and that her mind was trying to tell her something. It spiraled until finally the other day in her quarters, when the two exchanged those three words. Cory was walking with Ayiana in the shopping district on Iana Station. While he said nothing, Cory was looking for a gift for Ayiana. He didn't know what he was looking for, but knew it when he saw it. It still felt strange to be dating Ayiana. They had been friends for a very long time. Looking around, Cory saw couples holding hands. He didn't do that to her. To him, she didn't seem like a public display of affection type-of-lady. He decided he would let her make the first move. Stoyer: There is a great restaurant up the way that is pretty good. You want to stop later? Sevo: Sounds good to me. Shopping always makes me hungry. Cory saw a music store that had music programs that looked like old style records. Cory bought a player a while ago while having lunch with Jona and Tahna. He was tempted to go in and see if he could go find some older music to add to his collection. Cory stopped and looked into the window. Then shook his head and continued on with Ayiana at his side. Maybe before shore leave ended, he would come back and look through their collection. Ayiana had completely forgotten about Cory’s interest in those primitive music disks, but she vaguely recalled him having a player for one. She was curious why he didn’t stop in to look around. They weren’t in the Shopping District for nothing, after all! Sevo: Why didn’t you stop in? You like those… things. Stoyer: If you don't mind… Ayiana’s head swiveled around, looking at the various storefronts. Her eyes paused on a particularly flashy looking one selling electronics. One particular holosign caught her interest: they were broadcasting the latest new tech showcases from the Federation Technology Expo. Sevo: Ooo! Be right back! She darted off towards the store, leaving Cory alone in the crowd. Nothing could possibly go wrong with that. Cory smiled as he watched Ayiana tear off toward the tech store. She would be there for a while. He stopped again in front of not really a jewelry store, but he saw something that caught his attention. He thought it was perfect for Ayiana. Stoyer: That’s it. Cory entered the shop and, after purchasing the item, had it placed in a box so he could give it later to Ayiana. Cory left the store and back into the crowd. He looked around to see if Ayiana was on her way back. Not seeing her, Cory opened the box and looked at it in the light. Cory thought to himself, would she like it? Now how to hide it until he could give it to her. Stoyer: ::To one in particular.:: The music store. Cory headed back to the music store. Rummaging through the place, he found several disks that he wanted to buy. The bag holding the disks was big enough to hide the box. Cory placed the box in the bag with the music. Outside the music store, Cory leaned against the storefront while watching the tech store ‌Ayiana was shopping in. Ayiana had spent more time in the technology store than she expected. She was enamored by the radical developments coming out of Starfleet R&D regarding everything from phasers to tricorders to PADDs, especially in the area of holographic interface advancements. It had baffled her why Starfleet had kept the older two-dimensional, sharp-angled touch screens of the mid-century, while civilian areas had widely adopted holograms; Freecloud being a prime example. Well, it seemed Starfleet was finally bringing themselves to the 25th century (close enough) with holographic interfaces and displays rolling out. In the end, Ayiana came out of the store with a HoloStrip. It was basically a PADD, but completely holographic, being projected from a handheld rod-like device that could be held in the hand or placed on a table. She also came away with replicator pattern licenses for aftermarket parts she hoped to, at some point, put into her tricorder and other devices. It took her a few minutes to find Cory in the plaza. Cory spotted the red hair of Ayiana coming through the crowd. Cory flashed one of his roguish grins. Stoyer: Hey you. Sevo: Hey. Sorry I took so long; I got carried away in there. Cory smiled. He knew how she was about technology. It was part of her charm. Stoyer: Let's head over to the park for a bit. I want to talk to you. Sevo: Um… okay? That was a bit disturbing to her. Was Cory already having second thoughts about their relationship? It had always been in the back of her mind ever since that day in her quarters. Her heart pounded in her chest as Cory led her to the park in question. Cory looked out over the park. There was a small lake with a walking track surrounding it. Cory could see children playing on the shore of the lake. He saw an empty bench and walked over to it, placing the bag on the ground. Looking over at Ayiana, her blue eyes that he fell into every time. He reached over and took Ayiana's cool hand in his. Stoyer: I wanted to tell you I haven’t been this happy in a long time. I know that sounds like a line, but it’s true. Sevo: I… :: she exhaled a big breath she didn’t know she was holding. :: …I am too. It feels right. Stoyer: We’ve been friends for a very long time. You’ve been there for me, even when everything happened. I can't imagine my life without you in it. Ayiana remained quiet, simply waiting for what Cory was going to say. Stoyer: I’ve never really apologized for leaving you on that dance floor. That was wrong on many levels. I am sorry. Sevo: Yes… well… *ahem* :: she ran her fingers through her hair nervously. :: It was a kind of joint effort. :: She paused. :: Cory, what is this all about? Cory looked back out at the lake and the people walking around it. Stoyer: I’ve asked you over here to give you something. I saw it and thought of you. Cory reached into the bag and brought out the box. Smiling, he handed the black box to Ayiana and waited for her to open it. Cory watched her face. He knew she was going to like it, or at least hoped she would. Well, this was awkward. Ayiana had never been much for gifts. Cory was angling for something, she thought, and he hoped to buy Ayiana’s appeal for it. The box was not too dissimilar to those given by Quinn at awards ceremonies, but it was bigger than a ribbon or pip box. Besides, Cory couldn’t hand those out. She recognized the name on the box as an upscale jewelry store they recently passed on the promenade. Oh, Cory, that sneaky bugger. He used her distraction with the tech store to double-back and get it. What could it be? Earrings? Bracelet? Necklace? She had more than enough for any formal event she’d ever have to attend. Mountains of jewelry, so much that some people had dedicated furniture and storage for them - like her mother - baffled Ayiana. Why have so many of them when you’ll probably only ever use a fraction of them, and even then, not that often except for your favorite few? Well, if Cory thought she could be bought with a piece of shiny metal, he had another thing--! Ayiana let out an audible gasp as she saw the object laying on the velvet cushion inside. It was an armlet made of three copper wrought and banded wires making the arm ring itself. The three wires flared out of the banding in the front, one set going up, the other going down. In both sets, the outer two wires flared, curved, and twisted around each other, ending in loose coils. The middle wires ended in a gap in between the two, delicately cradling a sparkling ruby in each. The whole arrangement looked similar to leaves. (( OOC: Inspired image here, edited with rubies: https://drive.google.com/file/d/11uydJCCUIAPjXWi-JUi5lrRXLm60b9Hs/view?usp=sharing )) Seeing the armlet, Ayiana panicked; she felt her heart racing in her chest and her cheeks hot with flush. Even her hands were getting warm. No way. There was NO WAY Cory would do this to her so fast. Without touching the armlet, Ayiana closed the box with a snap and thrust it back in Cory’s arms. Sevo: Cory… I… I can’t accept this. :: She said as she looked away.:: Cory’s mind went into shock. He expected any reaction other than this one. He looked wide eyed at her; his mouth went dry. Stoyer: Ayiana…I… Sevo: It… it’s… Cory looked at the box in his hand. Once again, the fears he thought had gone started filling his heart again. Then he looked up into her blue eyes. Stoyer: Ayiana, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. Ayiana paused, realizing what was happening. Cory knew very little about Trill customs, and he must have not understood the armlet’s significance. He simply bought her something nice for her. It was just a gift to her, nothing more than that. She let out a deep breath and gestured Cory to a nearby stone bench. Ayiana sat down nervously, ramrod straight, and waited for Cory to sit down next to her. Cory followed her to a stone bench, sitting down next to her. His insides were turning to mush. Ayiana’s rigid posture wasn’t reassuring him ‌he didn’t make a huge mistake. Sevo: You… uh… don’t know much about Trill customs, right? That wasn't the question he was expecting. As he thought about it, no, he didn’t know much about Trill customs. Other than the whole symbiont and previous hosts thing. Stoyer: No, I didn't I guess. I mean I know about your symbiont and prior hosts. But other than that, no. Ayiana smirked at the irony of that fact. It was not too long ago, only a few decades, that the Joined nature of Trills wasn’t known. Not that they were trying to hide the symbionts; Trill just didn’t consider it out of the ordinary, like how Vulcans had nictitating membranes, Humans had an appendix, or Klingons having a QiVon. Now, the Joined nature of many Trill was the most well-known aspect of Trill biology and society, with Trills having mixed feelings about that. In lieu of an answer, Ayiana simply nodded. Stoyer: Let me guess, I made a serious sin of not knowing something vital. Sevo: Sort of. Um… :: She passed her hand through her hair again.:: …in some Trill cultures, gifting someone an armlet as exquisite as this is… is a marriage proposal. Cory’s mouth dropped open. His mind was blank as she spoke about a marriage proposal. Stoyer: What?! Sevo: It’s similar to your Human custom of presenting an engagement ring, except instead of two separate rings, for each occasion - one for engagement and one for marriage - it also acts as a marriage ring, to put it in your context. It’s generally worn on the left arm. :: She tapped her left bicep. :: Ayiana only knew about Human wedding and engagement rings from witnessing Cory’s and Petra’s marriage several years ago. Stoyer: I…I didn't know. Sevo: The person proposing has two matching armlets, one for them, and one for their prospective spouse. They are usually displayed together when proposing. So if this — ::She tapped the box in Cory’s lap. :: — was a real Trill proposal, in my local culture at least, you’d have two matching armlets in that box; one for me to wear, and one for you. Cory looked down at the box in his lap. This had never occurred to him. He saw something that was pretty and it reminded him of Ayiana. Cory looked at Ayiana. Sevo: The armlets also have a blank area on them, usually around the arm ring itself, but designs vary widely, and some people get custom designs made. They’re worn to show the person is engaged to someone. When or if the individuals marry, they have the blank area engraved with their name, their partners’ names, and the date of marriage. Stoyer: Ayiana, I never thought of you as a Trill. I see you as a brilliant, tough scientist. Ayiana smiled. “Uniform first,” was the Starfleet ethos, right? Sevo: Well, you are right, there. And I’m pretty sure you didn’t *mean* to… uh… get that response from me. Cory shook his head no. Stoyer: No, I didn’t. I guess there is a lot to learn about each other. Sevo: You have no idea. I’ve been married twice and never learned everything about my spouses in our lifetimes. Cory looked at her for a moment before it hit him. Previous hosts. Stoyer: Look, I am sorry for surprising you like this. Cory looked at the box. Looking back at Ayiana, he tapped the box and made a decision. Stoyer: Ok, how about this? I can return this…until the time is right. Sevo: I don’t know. It was very thoughtful of what you did. Stoyer: You pick out something you would like from there or the tech store? Ayiana thought about the offer, but after a moment, she shook her head. Sevo: No. I know you meant well and didn’t mean what I initially thought you were offering. Tell you what, I’ll accept this, — :: She tapped the box :: — graciously, I might add, and wear it for what it is: a thoughtful gift of appreciation. ::She smiled at Cory.:: Cory returned the smile. His heart started beating again. Stoyer: Great. Sevo: Then in the future, if - *IF* - ::she raised her index finger and tapped the air to emphasize the word:: - we take this relationship to the next step in the future, I’ll have a blank band added to it as part of my cultural observance, and it will be a proper engagement armlet. You could get a ring instead of a matching armlet, if that’s what you want. But we’re a long way from anything like that! Cory heard the “if”, but didn’t react. Stoyer: Yes, I agree. We are a long way from that. The black band is a nice touch. I, on the other hand, will start reading about Trill culture. Ayiana didn’t know what “black band” Cory was referring to, but she didn’t comment on it. Cory opened the box and held it out to Ayiana. Sevo: Hah, that’s a nice gesture, but not necessary. I find it more fun to find things out spontaneously. With Cory holding the box open, displaying the armlet to Ayiana, she delicately picked it up off its velvet cushion. She carefully twisted it around in her fingers, examining it from every angle, her eyes falling a little longer on the rubies socketed in it than the rest of it. It was exquisitely crafted, and she did mean crafted, not replicated. She could make out slight imperfections in the banding around the wires, suggesting they were hand wrought. There was no way to tell if the rubies were hand-carved, but if the same ethos went into them as the armlet, there was little doubt they were. Sevo: Cory, this is *handmade*, not replicated. It must have cost a fortune! Cory smiled. It did, but other than his music and books, it was just sitting there. Stoyer: Ayiana, I could say something like “you are worth it.” I saw it and thought of you. There went her cheeks again, flushing with a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. Sevo: Well… then… uh… :: she gazed at the armlet in her hand for a moment :: …I’ll wear it happily as the gift it is, and we’ll see what happens from here. Sounds good? Stoyer: Sounds good. All was well with the world, according to Cory. With Cory’s acceptance of the offer, Ayiana rolled up her left arm sleeve and slid the armlet up to her bicep. The wired form of it helped it grasp securely to her arm, with no squeezing or pinching occurring; in other words, it fit her perfectly. She didn’t believe in destiny, but if she did, this certainly lent proof to it. Cory had no idea of her arm size. He just found a bauble in a store, thought it looked good, and bought it as-is. She twisted and bent her arm around, observing how it looked on her arm, and trying to catch the station’s lights in the rubies. At just the right angle, they shined and reflected brilliantly back in her eye. Sevo: I’m going to have to wear more sleeveless shirts in order to show this off. :: Her eyes lit up. :: That means more shopping!! Cory watched Ayiana roll her sleeve up and slide the armlet up a toned bicep. He breathed a sigh of relief as it fit perfectly. He watched as she twisted the armlet around, smiling as it caught the light from the station. Cory stood, grabbing his bag as he got up. Looking at Ayiana, he offered his hand to her. Stoyer: I am famished. Shall we go get some lunch? Ayiana wasn’t normally keen on the affectations Cory often reverted to; Quinn once called him a “gentleman knight.” But in this instance, she couldn’t help but feel just a little spoiled. Clasping Cory’s hand, he gently pulled her up with the help of her own legs and his muscular arm that she never forgot about. Those well-toned, chiseled muscles. She left her sleeve rolled up; Ayiana had no intention of hiding the bauble right now. Shame it would be hidden by her uniform on-duty. Still close, Ayiana looked into Cory’s eyes. Sevo: Cory, thank you. It’s beautiful. Stoyer: You are welcome. She clasped her arms around Cory’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss, locking lips for several seconds. Was that strawberry chapstick Cory was wearing? She wondered what her own lipstick must taste like to him. Such thoughts never occurred to her before. Cory was surprised at the sudden embrace and kiss. He pulled her tight against him. Sevo: Now we can go. Cory smiled. Stoyer: Now we can go. Sevo: How about some place with a nice steak and wine? She definitely needed alcohol after all that. As they walked back towards the procession way, she reached out and clasped Cory’s hand in her’s. Cory felt her hand grab his. He looked at her and smiled. Fin (for now) ---------------------------- Lt. Commander Ayiana Sevo Mission Specialist U.S.S. Gorkon Image Collective Wiki Ops V239109AS0 ---------------------------- & ---------------------------- Lieutenant Cory Stoyer Helm/Comms/Ops Officer USS Gorkon C239111CS0 ----------------------------

(( Holosuite 2, Deck 6, Main Hull, USS Oumuamua )) Isabelle made her way along the simulated corridors of the Okaea Research Outpost. She moved close to the walls, holding a phaser in front of her. A corner was up ahead, and as she approached she could hear the faint sound of voices. She pressed herself against the wall, and slowly poked her head around the corner. Two pirates were standing in the middle of the corridor, facing her direction, but were too distracted to notice her. She took a breath and stepped away from the wall. She held her phaser out in front of her, and with a quick step rounded the corner. Before they had time to react to her presence, she fired two shots in quick succession, the pirates falling to the floor. Isabelle continued past the unconscious bodies and was a few metres along the corridor when a door slid open beside her, and a pirate rushed out. Isabelle dropped her phaser, as the pirate shoved her up against the wall, pinning her with his elbow. She managed to land a punch in the pirate’s gut, the pirate staggering backwards. Isabelle leapt forwards, grabbing hold of the pirate’s jacket and with one swift move, brought her leg behind the pirate, sweeping his leg out from under him. The pirate dragged Isabelle down with him and managed to roll over, pinning her with his weight. Isabelle reached out, her fingers straining for the phaser as the pirate wrapped his thick fingers around her throat. Gasping and starting to feel light-headed, Isabelle just managed to reach the phaser and brought it up, striking the pirate on the head, causing him to fall sideways. Without hesitation, she fired at the pirate, his body slumping to the floor. Isabelle managed to push herself upright, her chest feeling tight. She had just regained her composure when another pirate appeared in the corner. Before she was able to stun them, they had got off a shot, striking Isabelle square in the chest. Basilia: Computer, restart simulation. A moment later, the bodies and her surroundings disappeared, and Isabelle found herself once again at the entrance to the Outpost, everything frozen around her. Basilia: Computer, begin simulation. In an instant, the scene was brought to life and she could hear the waves crashing against the outpost. Isabelle stepped forward, the large double doors sliding as she approached. The layout was different this time, the doors revealing a large central area with four corridors branching off. Isabelle picked a direction and began her walk into the outpost. A corner was up ahead, and as she approached she pressed herself against the wall, and slowly poked her head around the corner. Nothing. With her phaser ready, Isabelle rounded the corner and continued along the corridor, her eyes scanning around for any openings or places where a threat could lurk. Up ahead there was a small recess in the wall. As Isabelle neared it, two figures emerged from a door further ahead. She was about to fire when she realised they were civilians. She was about to call to them, when two more figures emerged, holding weapons. One of the pirates shoved the civilian forward. Although she had tried to conceal herself, she was spotted. The two pirates grabbed hold of the civilians and pressed their weapons against them. Their voice was a low growl as they spoke. Holo-Pirate One: Drop your weapon and come out slowly. Cautiously Isabelle stepped out, knowing she had no other option and didn’t want to risk the civilians. She held her phaser out to her side and dropped it to the floor. While the first pirate trained his weapon on her, the second pirate approached her. The pirate grabbed hold of Isabelle and pulled her towards the door they had emerged from. As the pirate shoved Isabelle into the room, one of the civilians seized the opportunity. They thrust an elbow into the first pirate’s stomach, the pirate staggering backwards with a grunt. The second pirate spun around to see what was happening, and Isabelle launched a foot square in the woman’s lower back, causing them to fall to the floor. Isabelle ran out of the room but was too late. The first pirate had regained their composure and fired at one the civilians, who crumpled to the floor. Basilia: Computer, restart simulation. Once again, the scene around her faded, replaced by the outpost’s entrance. Before she was able to give the next command, a doorway appeared beside her and a figure stepped through. Anyone: Response Isabelle nervously bit her lip, her cheeks reddening. Basilia: Oh, sorry, I didn’t realise. I completely lost track of time. Anyone: Response Basilia: Just trying to get in some extra training. Can never be too prepared. Isabelle had failed on her last mission. Many people got injured under her watch, something that was never supposed to happen. Something that she would do everything to prevent again. Anyone: Response Ensign Isabelle Basilia Security Officer USS Thor T239812IB4

OOC: Just loving the sauciness of the EMH and the character development that is blossoming here with V'Len. IC: EMH: I don't mean to distract from the problem at hand Counselor, however there seems to be some confusion here that needs to be addressed. Lieutenant Kel was CMO onboard the Thor, not the Oumuamua. Toz: I’m sure you’ve been preparing for this conversation, but now is not the time to stand your ground, doctor. Give us a little time. You won’t be left out, I assure you. This Doctor Toz was perceptive, and seemed to be trying to offer some assurance. The EMH had little value for verbal promises however, as she followed written guidelines and official orders. To her "not being left out" probably meant responding to emergency situations only. V’Len: ::softly:: Ok. Ok. ::sigh:: Do we need to discuss with V'Airu how the sickbay is organized? I'll admit to having some days when I'm full of energy and others when I'm exhausted, do we need to determine what to do in those cases. Brodie: Response EMH: Until I am ordered by Commodore V'Airu herself, I will not stop performing my duties as CMO aboard this ship. Frankly, from what I have heard so far on your last mission, the Thor's medical crew did not understand the saying "Help, or at least do no harm”. Toz: What? We have not caused harm, and we do understand the word help. V'Len: Yes I'd like an explanation. Our backs were against the wall and we saved a lot of lives. Perhaps you ought to put a sock in it? V'Len: oO Oh no that's exactly what I did to Greaves on the Thor. Darn it. Oo Brodie: Response EMH: First of all, watch your language while in my sickbay. Secondly, I understand you were in dire circumstances, but the use of unapproved fungi and alien water to treat crew members was beyond risk averse, it was just dangerously cavalier. You had no idea the danger you could have caused to your crewmates. It may have seemed like a good idea at the time, but my programming ensures that I will make the best medical decisions possible for the crew over an extended period of time. Toz: Then this report is accurate? ::waving the tricorder around:: You used the fungi and alien water as a treatment? And it worked? I’m thoroughly impressed, doctor. V’Len: Yes, it was excellent. The EMH watched as V'Len and Toz reached across the room to bump fists. They seemed to not understand her point. Without understanding the risks, sometimes you could do more damage to patients by not using studied, approved interventions. In her opinion, the fact that it had worked this one time for Lt. Kel was dangerous, as he might feel emboldened to take such action in the future. The next time it could cause casualties, and he would likely stand trial in that case. She would table this for now, as V'Len needed to be examined. V'Len: I'll make sure your name is on the publications. Brodie: Response Toz: Can we get on with the exam? Cussing and discussing isn’t getting us anywhere. V'Len: Well I think we're good here. Should I check back in a week? EMH: Lt. Kel, I still need to perform a full assessment of you, or as you indicated that you have a rapport with Doctor Toz, she will need to examine you. Rox: Dr. Kel are you going to tell them or should I? She gave a stern look towards Nurse Rox. The Nurse should be keeping her informed of everything going on related to sickbay. It would seem she was keeping some sort of secret for Lt. Kel. Toz/Brodie: Response V'Len: ::hesitantly:: I have been experiencing some anxiety that my cardiac inducer will stop working. Rox: I've found him sleeping in his office 3 of the last 6 nights. EMH: Lack of a good night's rest can further increase symptoms of anxiety. Lt. Kel, you should be sleeping in your quarters and keeping good sleep hygiene. Toz/Brodie: Response V'Len: Well it makes it easier to sleep. I can bring up the inducer on the monitor and see that it's still working and I know everything is fine. And if something does go wrong I'm right here in sickbay. EMH: Lt. Kel, even the cardiac technology of 21st century Earth medicine was quite reliable. Modern cardiac inducers are nearly 100% reliable. As I placed it in your body myself, I can assure you it was done exactly as the procedure should be performed. Toz/Brodie: Response V'Len: ::angrily:: Well of course I know modern cardiac inducers are nearly 100% reliable, but it's not in your chest it's in mine! The EMH watched as V'Len looked down at the floor. EMH: Lt. Kel, I don't think I need to remind you that I technically don't have a chest, or a heart. This allows me to remain objective in these types of situations. Toz/Brodie: Response V'Len: The truth is I don't feel much like V'Len Kel anymore. V'Len Kel was optimistic and energetic, he didn't sleep in his office or check his pulse to make sure he was still alive. I think V'Len Kel is gone (beat) I'm just not sure what's left. EMH: V'Len, usually at this point I would refer you to the Ship's Counselor. As he is standing right here, and you have requested Doctor Toz to care for you, I will respect that and return to my office. ::turning to Toz:: I will review your charting thoroughly, and if any assessments were missed you will be hearing from me. ::to Brodie:: It is my recommendation that Lieutenant Kel be removed from duty until his physical and mental condition can receive the proper assessment. Toz/Brodie: Response With that the EMH walked through the doors into her temporary office. She wasn't confident in her future aboard the ship, and the capabilities of the ex-Thor's medical staff to care for its crew. She was programmed to do her duty, and she could not do this if she was relegated back to emergency response only. She imagined it was like sleeping for non-holograms when she was turned off, although she did not dream. The EMH pondered if she was a different kind of being, would she feel scared about never being turned back on again? With that final thought, she pulled up the logs of the U.S.S. Voyagers Doctor and began to review them once again. End scene for 'Oumuamua EMH Mark IV 'Oumuamua EMH Mark IV Acting CMO USS 'Oumuamua T239902U11

Ensign @Nathan Richards not only did an awesome job with his first Mission post, conveying the chaos of the situation and continuing the story along, but I also found the use of Morse Code particularly original and enjoyable. A creative and momentum-filled start! Original post here: https://groups.google.com/g/sb118-amity/c/veK3eGUFuco/m/x-h9UuGbAwAJ

Sparks, explosions, smoke, and anomalies. From reading this sim, you can feel the stress of the situation. A fantastic read @Hannibal Parker ! (( Bridge- USS Independence B )) Gamma shift. The dark of ships' night. It was a time for junior officers to take the big chair on what should be a fairly routine evolution. However, it was also the time for a Second Officer to brush up on his bridge quals, and John had no problem with the lack of sleep associated with taking the center seat of the Defiant Class starship during this period. Probing the depths of space in advance of the USS Kitty Hawk, the Indy B was closing in on a phenomena known as the Barossa Nebula, her powerful warp engines bringing them ever closer. Sure, the mission was routine, according to Wil, but routine was relative. On the viewscreen, the purplish hues of the nebula were drawing ever closer. At the helm, Jaygee Flint was piloting the Indy B with skill and it seemed a great deal of joy. It was like watching a virtuoso sing not for adolation, but because they loved it so much. John spoke... Carter: Mister Flint...ships' status... Flint: Everything appears optimal, Commander. ::Gesturing at the purple field ahead on the viewscreen:: With your permission, Sir. This was what being out here was all about. Exploration, expanding our knowledge and forging a path for those who would follow. With a hint of pride in his voice, John spoke... Carter: Take us in, Mister Flint... Orrey: Response Flint: Taking us in. The view on the screen changed as the ship gracefully swung to port, the purple from the nebula undulating with deep patches and lighter ones as the ship moved in. The view was mesmerizing, hypnotic, beautiful. John sat back in the center seat, internally whistling to himself. John spoke... Carter: Beautiful, isn't it? Orrey: response He was getting ready to speak again when the Indy seemingly dropped out from under them, then pitched up violently. Alarms began whooping on the bridge, and he could feel the heat from something exploding behind him... Carter:=/\= Red Alert! Captain Ukinix to the bridge!=/\= Orrey: response Carter: Mister Flint! What have you got? Flint: It’s that anomaly, Sir. It appears to be expanding. It’s… some sort of gravity well. That wasn't a good thing. A bad one could tear even this ship apart in minutes. The ship began to dip forward according to the viewscreen. If they began to tumble, it could be lights out for all of them. John spoke... Carter: Flint! Get her nose up! Orrey: response Flint: Attempting to compensate. Might get a bit rocky... That was an understatement. The engines roared with power as they fought against the forces trying to pull them in. Looking at the status on his PADD, things were getting worse, not better... Carter: Structural integrity is getting critical! Orrey: response Flint: If we continue trying to escape, Sir, the ship will be torn in half by these tidal forces. I have to power the engines down or we will lose the ship… Flint was right. The readouts were telling him the same thing. He had no time to ponder a decision, no room to consider alternatives. Right or wrong, John made his decision... Carter: Shut them down, Mister Flint. Use the thrusters to try to keep us level. Orrey: response With the warp engines shut down, the Indy bucked forward, with Flint fighting to keep her on an even keel, although an even keel was not the main thing for the moment as the anomaly pulled them in deeper, the viewscreen becoming grainy and full of static, Over the din of alarms, Flint spoke... Flint: Recommend we alert the crew to brace for... Flint was cut off by a series of explosions which rocked the Indy, setting off another group of alarms. In front of him, Flint was dealing with a small fire, and behind John he was feeling sparks run down his neck. To make matters worse, John was thrown against the overhead, and he heard the unmistakable sound of an emergency bulkhead closing...they were effectively trapped on the bridge, but so far the only good news was they still had life support, but the only question was...for how long? And what about the rest of the ship? Pushing himself off the overhead, John slammed into the command chair and grabbed a handhold...the only question was staying in it in zero gee. The bridge had gone dark, with most of the consoles now showing red through the smoke. They were still alive, but they were in serious trouble. A few long seconds later, auxiliary lighting came on, tinged in red, but at least he knew some systems were still online, despite physically the bridge being cut off from the rest of the ship. John spoke... Carter: Status report! Orrey: response Flint: I’m afraid… we’re trapped. Carter: In more ways than one. We're trapped on the bridge, trapped in this anomaly, not knowing what the ships' current status is, which we need to know yesterday. Orrey: response A grey viewscreen greeted his eye forward. They at least wanted to see where the hell they were. Maybe the Kitty Hawk saw them and was on her way. That maybe so, but John had to operate as though they were on their own and they had to save themselves. John spoke... Carter: David...can you get that screen on? Flint had managed to secure himself to the helm, and through the smoke, he managed to get the viewscreen operable...and what they all saw made John think he was seeing things, but he wasn't. On the viewscreen before him, there were literally hundreds of Independence B's...all identical, all lifeless, all helpless. Just as they were. Carter: I'm be damned... Orrey: response Flint: response Carter: Hail them... Orrey: response No answer. Not good. Perhaps they were more damaged than he figured. John spoke... Carter: Allright. I need a full damage report Mister Flint. I need to know how badly we're hurt, and...whether there are survivors other than here, since internal sensors seem to be off line for the moment. Orrey: response Carter: Damage Control 101. Save the ship. Save the plant. Save the crew. Damage control had been a mantra since the United States Navy days. Sure the systems were more complex, but the basics were still the same. Once he knew how bad they were hurt, the better he could respond... Orrey: response Flint: response TAG/TBC Lt. Commander John Marcus Carter First Officer/ Chief Counselor USS Independence B C238703HP0

I have always been in awe of @Kali Nicholotti's writing style- there is something beautiful lyrical about it. Marissa really makes Kali come alive on our screens and this Simm is absolutely no exception. Watching Kali and Genkos' gentle romance unfold has been a delight to read. -- ((The Round Table, USS Excalibur - A)) She had all but released the crew to enjoy the rest of the night without structure or necessity, which was something they all needed. Only the universe knew what was coming down the pipeline, and as much as she hoped that they might get to do some tests or actual science, historical precedent spoke to the floods that often near overwhelmed them. That was what she would prepare for, however much she hoped for something else. As the room descended into the good kind of chaos that came with social gatherings, her crystalline eyes caught the dark shadows of the only eyes she wanted to see in that moment. As his hand touched her elbow gently and his presence washed over her, she smiled. Adea: Lovely ceremony, Kalianna. Kali dipped her head slightly and stepped just close enough for the dress to fade into his dark outfit. There was no way to tell where one of them began and the other ended in the dark obscurity of black fabrics against the backdrop of darkness and stars outside. Nicholotti: It was well deserved by all. Indeed, the strife that they had all suffered at the hands of the unknown was incredible. There were injuries and there were those who simply would not make it back. Thankfully they were not of her crew, but they were Starfleet nonetheless. How the admiral could live with himself knowing he'd left people behind was beyond her. The capacity to be self centered and full of greed like that was something she'd never be able to wrap her head around. She watched as he held up the box with his award in it. Adea: I wonder what the Admiral would say if he could see this… Kali shook her head ever so slightly. Nicholotti: His attention nor reaction is worth much anymore. I can't place much on a person who would not only leave men behind, but walk on with life continuing to leave people behind. The thought of what might have happened if they had not been rescued by the Excalibur when they had been was nightmarish. She was all but certain he had intended to bury them and leave them on that planet as well. A glimmer of a frown crossed her face as the barest moment of pain struck her at such a loss. But then she pushed it away. Adea: Response? Nicholotti: It is done. I don't think either of us need to reside there, nor in the what ifs, anymore. Her eyes locked with his and her meaning was clear. She meant this well beyond just the admiral and the events of the prior mission. The past was something that attached itself to you and pulled you down, unless you could figure out how to sit with it long enough for it to fade into the realm of things you could do nothing about. History was history, they had no sway on that, but they could control how they approached things moving forward. Adea: Response? Nicholotti: It doesn't have to be right now, and I know it's easier said than done, but for today... She reached out and stepped up to him as if to dance. Nicholotti: Dance with me? Adea: Response? It didn't matter where they were or who was watching, all that mattered was the two of them in that moment. The starlight shone in on them as the background music softly laid the soundtrack for their gentle movements. And as the universe around faded into the dull roar of social complexity, Kali put her head on his shoulder and allowed herself simply to be. TAG/TBC -- Commodore Kalianna Nicholotti Commanding Officer USS Excalibur - A R238605KN0

DORIS HUNT! (If you know, you know;). No but seriously, this was another fantastic piece written by our very own @Yalu -- (( The Round Table, Deck 13, USS Excalibur-A )) Yogan barely had enough time to return to his seat before the holoprotector activated, encasing Vitor in what appeared to be an ornately decorated piece of crockery. Silveira: Thank you. Centuries ago there was a set of tales, called Arabian Nights. Let us say I found them… Inspiring… Hearing Sil’s voice from behind his concealment made Yogan even more excited about the performance. Earlier, Vitor had been insistent that a reveal was integral to his act, and wouldn’t even divulge to the Master of Ceremonies the finer details of what he planned to do on stage. Yogan recalled little about Earth history to fix The Arabian Nights into any familiar frame of reference, but the music began before he’d pondered many deep thoughts, and Yogan was immediately distracted by the performance playing out before him. Silveira: If you want to be with me / Baby there’s a price to pay / I am a genie in a bottle / You gotta rub me the right way Sil not only gyrated and moved his arms around his hips to the rhythm of the unfamiliar song, but he also attempted a rather ambitious-looking cartwheel during the chorus. Silveira: If you want to be with me / I can make your wish come through / You got to make a big impression / I have to like what you do. Another attempted cartwheel followed, and while Sil had the strength and the desire of a world-class gymnast, he lacked a quality that the industry insiders called, “Lick it and stick it.” Yogan could practically hear Sil’s ankle snap during the botched landing, and the Human tactician’s body landed on the stage with an equally grotesque thud a moment later. Yogan scanned the audience for any of the dozens of trained medical officers who served on the ship. Perhaps MacKenzie would get to demonstrate her surgical abilities after all. The music continued, and Yogan got up from his seat to help Sil off the stage and move things along from the unfortunate injury. However, Sil, true to form, cast off his high heeled shoes and stood, then continued the song with a pronounced limp and a sweaty forehead. Silveira: If you want to be with me / I can make your wish come through / Just come and set me free baby / And I’ll be with you / I am a genie in a bottle baby / Come, come, come on and let me out. When the music ended and the holoprojector deactivated, Yogan led the round of applause, encouraging the audience to reward not only Sil’s talent, but also his perseverance. Sil admirably limped off the stage under his own power, but made a beeline for the nearest available seat. Silveira: I know this sounds silly, but is there a Doctor in the Table? Any: response As Yogan took the stage to introduce the next act, he thought he might try another one of his prepared jokes. Yalu: Come now, Admiral, if a job’s worth doing, I thought you were a professional. This time, instead of a rimsot, a plaintive, solitary trumped made a whomp-whomp sound. Yalu: oO C’mon, one of these has got to land. Oo Our next act, straight from the factories of Lakonna, it’s the Amazing Talos! Talos took the stage in a flashy outfit that reflected starry specks of light back out into the audience, and an array of differently colored neck-ties draped over both of his outstretched arms. Dakora::To the crowd.:: I'm going to start the show, I promise! I just kind of couldn't decide which tie to go with! ::He walked to the edge of the stage and pointed at someone in the first row.:: You! Which one should I wear!? Any: response Dakora: Excellent choice. With a flourish he whipped all of the various ties off of his arms and discarded them off to the side of the stage, then theatrically unbuttoned and opened his blazer to reveal that the exact tie the person had chosen was already dangling loosely around his neck, hidden by the outerwear all along. He cinched it up in one smooth movement and launched into the rest of his act. The audience applauded excitedly at the mind-bending surprise. Several increasingly unlikely things were seemingly transformed into white doves during his next trick followed by his pulling of a half-dozen things out of an upturned top hat including a comm-badge, concealment phaser, and a Horga'hn which looked strikingly familiar to the one MacKenzie had painted with Yogan on Risa. In a pièce de résistance, Talos finally reached his entire arm up to the shoulder into the top hat, and pulled out a white rabbit. A couple of sleight of hand card tricks followed, before Talos rolled out a rather large wooden trunk and prepared for his finale. Dakora: And now! What I'm sure you've all been waiting for... I'm going to make myself disappear! He opened the trunk and tipped it toward the crowd so they could see there were no visible tricks and knocked on the wooden walls of the crate to demonstrate it's authenticity. With a flourish, he climbed into the crate and closed the lid on himself. A curtain rose in front of the crate for no more than a second or so then fell back to the floor. The lid popped open and Adriana Morgan appeared, wearing her own version of Talos' magician's suit. Yogan lept to his feet in rapturous applause as Talos appeared from the side of the stage, now wearing only a pair of boxer shorts covered in cartoonish red hearts. Yogan was delighted; the act told a story all its own! Dakora: Thank you! Good-night! (( OOC: I’m trimming the end of Talos’ sim that takes place at the bar, but don’t let that stop you from picking up those tags. )) As Talos helpfully cleared the stage of his props, Yogan took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. It was showtime, his big moment, his opportunity to show Keroga and all the others his acting chops. He disappeared into the character of Doris Hunt and stood at the center of the stage, his nunchucks swaying slowly back and forth from his belt. Yalu: ::somberly:: This piece is called Cloaked Lust II. Blackout. Yogan got into position at the back of the stage, holding a pose that could only be described as “Sensual Swan meets Wall Street Businessman.” Yalu: In the dream, I’m drowning, but I just don’t know it at first. Tell me, Colonel, do you ever hear water and imagine it’s going to be a lovely dream? Do ya? ::long beat:: Well?! He took several steps forward, as if challenging the audience to a fight. The spotlight followed every step of the way, and he placed a hand on his nunchucks to keep them from jangling their way out of their holster. Yalu: Everything, everyone sounds so differently when you’re cloaked, Colonel. One moment, it’s a wonderful night on the beach or a cruise in the moonlight, or a summer afternoon in a secret cove. But a moment after being fooled into expecting bonfires, or handsome captains, or treasures in the weedy shore, it becomes very clear that it’s all an illusion. Executing the blocking with Keroga’s precision, Yogan backed up and reached his hands to the floor. Not as nimble as his former host, Yogan wasn’t able to place his palms on the stage floor, but he got close enough. Yalu: I’m a rock, Colonel. He then moved into a flowing, side-by-side movement of the head and arms. Yalu: Now I’m a river, Colonel. Then he stood firmly in position, his arms outstretched. Yalu: Now I’m a tree. Do you see me, Colonel? Do you see the tree? Are you proud of the tree? Has the tree made you proud. ::weeps:: Oh, god. Colonel, please, please tell me you’re proud of the tree. Yogan reached to his belt and grabbed the nunchucks, then swung them flailingly about, using the wild and erratic movements to provide punctuation to the next several statements. Yalu: Don’t you see, Colonel? When you’re cloaked, you can be anything or anyone. You can hear things you’re not meant to hear, see things no one would want to show you. You can be everywhere and nowhere at once. It’s a liberating prison. ::growls and snarls:: I’m a pit bull now, Colonel! A frisky pitbull who chases after a frolicsome rabbit! Arf! Arf! Don’t you see what you’ve done to me, Colonel? I’ve been cloaked so long that I–– ::beat:: I–– ::beat:: Yogan dropped the nunchucks and rolled himself into a ball on the stagefloor. Yalu: I don’t even know who I am anymore! I’ve got the cloaked lust… Two! Blackout. A moment later, the lights came up slowly, and Yogan collected his nunchucks. Yalu: Thank you. Any: response Yogan left the stage and shrugged off the character of Secret Agent Doris Hunt. The performance was fun, but there was no doubt as to why this role had ruined Keroga's acting career. (( OOC: There’s still plenty of show! If you haven’t done a talent yet, it’s not too late! )) Tag / TBC Lieutenant Commander Yogan Yalu Strategic Operations Officer USS Excalibur NCC-41903-A Justin D238804DS0

I really liked this final log entry from @Kammus Corelli. A nice fitting end to his time on the Thor.

I have always enjoyed reading sims by @Valin Dermont and I am so happy to have him back with us. This just shows that our favorite cranky engineer can also be reasonable, and can admit when he was wrong. I loved reading this sim as it just shows great depth of character to me. ((Mission Specialist’s Office, Security Complex, Deck 11, USS Chin’toka)) {{Time Index: Four Days After Arriving at Shemsh}} Dermont: Ye've every right ta give me a good dressin' down, ma'am. On duty and disrespectful. Prefer ta just take mah medicine fer it, ma'am… The two of them just stared at each other for a moment, before Dermont saw something of a...frown, perhaps...cross her features. It was clear whatever was going on in her mind, she had decided...something. Rosek-Skyfire: ::pauses:: Valin, I didn’t call you here to dress you down or give you any sort of medicine. There’s more to this situation than your attitude toward me in Engineering. I know that you dislike me and I have a strong suspicion as to why. ::grimaces:: There are days when I think of everything that happened between Toryn and I–and I don’t like myself very much either. oO Um, wut... Oo Whatever he had thought was going to come out of the Al-leyan's mouth, that certainly wasn't it. He had been dead certain she was about to bring the hammer for his actions in engineering. What exactly is this? Vulnerability? Bah! Rosek-Skyfire: I’m not going to give you a big sob story because firstly, I know we all have our crosses and mine is no heavier than anyone else’s and second, it’s no excuse. oO What exactly is happenin' 'ere? Oo The older engineer had entered the room ready to either take a lashing for as long as he could tolerate or failing that, giving as good as he got before being bounced out of the office on his arse. He had not been expecting the Lieutenant Commander to try and explain or be relatable. Dermont was not prepared for the wave of sympathy that suddenly threatened to wash over him. Dermont: Ma'am, as ya say, we've all got our burdens. But the lad...e's a deep down romantic. Seein' the best in all o' those 'e cares 'bout... oO Which still includes ya, I'd imagine. Even if it's no longer romantic... Oo Rosek-Skyfire: ::nods slowly:: I don’t know how much you know about Al-Leyan culture, but essentially, monogamy isn’t a thing for them. I didn’t expect it to bother me as much as it did. I tried to be okay with it–mostly because I really do care about Toryn and I knew that the rejection would hurt him. ::grimaces:: I was a coward, afraid to pull off the bandage, and ended up hurting him even worse by not just being honest. He couldn't help but frown. But not at Lael, at himself. It had happened. There she went and just made herself all relatable and mortal and prone to mistakes as the rest of us. The residuals of anger just washed out of him. Back then she was likely a mess over the whole thing and Dermont had only been on this side, seeing her as some kind of interloper, purposely toying with his friend. But damn the heart cannot help how the heart feels. Dermont: I cannot believe I'm sayin' it, but honestly...it's none o' my business, ma'am. Never was. I 'ave a tendency o' overreactin' when someone I care 'bout is threatened. And the past is in the past, eh? I 'ear both o' ya are very 'appy where you are. Ya don't need me draggin' ever'body back ta the dead 'orse so we can all keep on beatin' it. ::Deep breath.:: I'm sorry, ma'am. As long as ye've the best of intentions fer Toryn now, I'm past it. oO Never yer place ta be in it ta start with! Oo oO And I already admitted that, didn't I?! Growth! That's what that is! Oo Rosek-Skyfire: ::expression softens:: I do care about Toryn. Whether you believe me or not, I do. I wish more than anything that it could have worked, but it wasn’t fair to either of us. My only regret is that I didn’t realize that sooner. He leaned forward across the desk and gave her a half-smile. Dermont: We're all lost in our feelin's, eh? Sometimes we're all jumbled up inside. We lose sight o' reality and just stay lock in our little fantasies. Our wishful thinkin' and our "could be's." If I'm bein' 'onest, mine was locked in anger at you because I'd invented a perfect story-book endin' fer a pair o' friends o' mine. Rosek-Skyfire: response Dermont: ::grins.:: Turns out, they both 'ad their own plans as to what their futures would be like. Nobody even asked ole Dermont 'ow their life was supposed ta end up. And I o' course was too busy bein' resentful ta just enjoy the time I 'ad with 'em. Anyhow, I promise ya, ma'am, you need not worry 'bout me. At least not 'bout this. I read yer file: more accolades than you can fit on a book-shelf. A damn fine officer. And probably second or third best engineer on the ship! He paused a bit into his chuckle, giving her a glance and seeing if perhaps a joke was "too soon." Of course, seeing as so far this conversation was drastically different than anticipated, even if it was a little too soon, the fact it could be an option at all was blowing his mind. Dermont was certain he would need to go have a drink or ten to process today. Rosek-Skyfire: response ==================== Lieutenant Valin Dermont Engineering USS Chin'toka NCC-97187 A239410VD0

This is @Alora DeVeau's sim for Katsim Peri. I was new to the Thor and only served for one mission, so I enjoy reading how others who were on the ship longer are processing leaving the ship behind for the time being. I especially enjoyed this one. ((USS Thor - Katsim’s Quarters)) She was just a ship. A machine. A vessel constructed to be used for the advantage of those who guided her through the paths among the stars. A slab of metal that had been melted and fashioned, hammered and cut with all the modern tools that Starfleet had to offer, sleek lines and powerful drives that propelled her forward and speeds thought impossible only a few hundred years prior. And she had woven her way through the Galaxy, protecting the precious cargo within. And it was there that she became more than a machine. Though she did not breathe, she uttered a constant, steady hum to lull that soothed her passengers. Though she had no heart, her core beat with a firm, constant beat. Though she had no bones, she creaked and groaned at times in protest. In many ways, she was very much alive, a part of the crew, the life and breadth that brought them all together, the spindle that wove the thread of commonality into a strength of familiarity. She had carried them, guarded them, and fought for them. And now? Now those polished hulls and smooth arcs had been torn asunder. The deep ebony of her form had been struck and the lights that glittered all about her, like strings of glistening jewels, had been dimmed. The wings that had once borne them through the heavens had been clipped. Now she was a shadow of her former glory, forced to endure the humiliation of the necessity of being dragged behind another of her kin. Her bowels were no less chaotic, the evidence of her torture manifest everywhere one looked. Nothing was untouched, and the wounds of battle visible no matter where one looked. Peri had requested that she be transported over, the need to see what remained far too great, mainly of her own belongings. There was not much, but what she did have was significant. She materialized not in her room itself, but in the hallway just outside, debris scattered about, wires exposed, some frayed, and she could smell the last remnants of energy upon the air. Remaining clear of the components showing she turned to the door. It had been damaged, one panel somehow half crumpled, but the other seemed as if it had been spared anything at all save for a small mark in its finish. Between the two, there was just enough space for her to insert herself and get stuck. Echo, a constant companion, chirped encouragement, and Peri heaved and pushed. Bracing her feet, she groaned with effort and a moment later, the panel groaned with her, then gave in and slid open. Inside was no better than out, the damage great in its extent. The beds that had lined the walls, one to the right, the other to the left, were nothing more than twisted bits of metal, several of their beams snapped in two, and the jagged edges jutted upward in stark reminder of their brokenness. For a moment, Peri merely stood there, barely past the threshold, surveying what had once been her quarters. Carefully picking her way forward, she paused only a couple of feet inside, then bent down to pick up what had once been a frame, but now was merely a remnant shard. Sighing softly, she tossed it aside, then continued forward, then suddenly stopped again and let out a soft cry. She could see her things, tossed about. Fabric was torn asunder as the trunk in which they had resided had given way to the thrashing it had received. The silk, both metres and threads, had been tossed and throttled, and remnants were scattered everywhere, their fraying ends speaking to their ruin. Reaching down, she found a larger piece in particular from a half finished hanging that she had been making for the upcoming wedding between Elizabeth Snow and her intended, Lephi. It was now ruined, and no amount of craftsmanship could mend it. Shoulders slumped and her hand released what she had worked so hard on, and it fell limp back onto a small pile of debris. And then she saw it, a corner, the darkened edge peeking out from the contorted forms of metal and she pressed forward, pushing things aside, clamoring over others until he could reach the spot where it lay. Pulling a large, bent beam from one of the beds, Peri moved it just enough to reveal what it attempted to hide. Quickly, she tugged and pulled and finally wrestled the box from the confines of the wreckage, and immediately turned it over in her hands. Beaten. Outside, it had taken just as much as everything else. Scratches and dents marred the formally smooth, dark grey, and a slash on one great edge had been cut deeply. Fingers fumbled with the latches, bent and bowed, yet somehow they had clung together. A few moments later, she was able to pry it open, and upon seeing the contents, another cry was released - but that one was of relief, for there within, nestled in the protective cushioning lay the candelabra that had allowed her to count and focus her prayers. Lifting it, she turned it over and over, studying every inch, then breathed a prayer of thanks. It was a small thing, perhaps insignificant to many, and technically replaceable - but Peri had spoken a thousand prayers upon it, had uttered words of her faith, called out for aid in her doubts, and had breathed the depths of her sorrows with it as a guide and focus when communing with the prophets. Of all that she owned, it was her most precious possession. Despite the damage to the case, it was still the best way to protect the item, so Peri returned it to the nest, and closed it as best she could. Rising, she took another look around her, at what was left of her room. No, not her room. She could no longer call it that. That was gone, and she had been given a new one, one that remained intact and unbroken, devoid of the chaos and devastation that surrounded her. She had what she came for, yet she couldn’t help but hesitate and linger, though after a few moments, the dragonet upon her shoulder chirped again, as if to remind her that this had to be left behind. That they had to return. Biting her lower lip, Peri still hesitated, and she gazed about her, as if trying to put everything back where it once was, where it had been before. But it was impossible. No imaginings could refashion all that had been wrecked, and nothing she could do could turn back time to set all as it was. Finally, slender fingers lightly tapped her badge and the connection was made. Her soft voice requested transport for a return. And as she heard the hollow sound and the light filled her vision, she watched it all fade away into brilliant blue, everything overcome with that luminous hue, drowned into oblivion and replaced with the new, the hale, and whole. Stepping down, she cast a small smile toward the transporter chief, but could not help but let her eyes shift to the transporter pad. It stood there, waiting for those who would utilise it, others who had come to do the same as she had done, to go back, to seek, hopefully to find. But what would they find? If they were fortunate, remnants of their belongings, something to hold onto, to return with. But ultimately, they could not return to what once was. All they could do was gather the remains of the shattered. All they could do was move forward. All they could do was let go. Taking a deep breath, Peri clutched the rescued case to her chest and hurried away. Yet, some things couldn’t be let go. Some things could not be so easily forgotten. Some things would remain a constant, and in that she had hope and faith, in that she had trust. Making her way through the hall and to a lift, she gave a command, that for the deck where she was temporarily housed. The computer complied, the hum began, though it was of a different pitch and temperament than what she had grown accustomed to. It carried her off, then stepped and let her out at the desired level, and but a moment later, Peri was in her quarters. Once inside, Echo launched from her shoulder and settled upon the back of the couch where took up a perch and placed the case upon the small table in front of it. Opening it, she examined once more the gentle curves of the candelabra, and gingerly fingered the column. In all the change, in all the tumult, there was so much uncertainty, so much disorder, but there was one thing she knew, one thing that was constant. Whatever happened, whatever was thrown into her path, Peri would always be able to look to the Prophets, for they would always care for her own. They would always care for her. And they would never let go.

Okay, anyone who has written with me for any length of time probably knows I am a sucker for a good romance. I really loved this intimate moment between Flt Capt. Oddas and her partner. ((CO's Quarters, Anchorage, 40th Floor)) Stelek: Drink this. Aria was still groggy, just becoming aware of the fact she was no longer in the main room, but one of the smaller rooms off to the side of the main open area. She was propped up against the wall, legs drawn up close to her, still waking up. She didn't remember moving - how she had gotten here. Confused, she looked down at the proffered canteen, took a deep sniff, the smell of natural sugars wafting up. The Bajoran took a tentative sip, and then a deeper one - moba juice - the sweet juice pouring deep in and cooling her body and reminding her that she was exhausted, her mouth dry and probably smelling bad. Finishing half of the juice, she sighed and leaned back against the wall. oO You don't have a replicator yet. Oo Oddas: ::hoarsely:: How? ::stammering:: How long? Stelek: Only Ninety-Seven Minutes, your vitals indicated you were just sleeping, so I let you. Oddas: ::lifting the stainless steel canteen:: And this? Stelek: A small group of crewmen delivered some of your possessions, so I moved you here for privacy and convinced them you were indisposed. Oddas: And the drink? Stelek: I simply told one of the yeomen I needed some food and other supplies for later, I gave him a list of items I required. She smiled, and could feel herself blush slightly, drinking more juice, gingerly. Stelek settled in next to her on the left. Oddas: I guess you're a keeper. Stelek: Logically. The two let silence hang, Aria resting her head on the wall behind her, feeling her breathing breath go in and out, her chest beating - aching as if it had been hurting in the past, but no longer the acute pain it had been. There was no doubt she was feeling better. Stelek: How often does that happen? There it was, the personal question just tossed out there like a dead fish in the middle of the room. Aria's face bunched up, and she took a deep breath, clenched her eyes shut. Oddas: My heart? It's happened once before since the operation, not this bad. I didn't think it would ever be this debilitating, the Doctor never said it would cause me to lose any sort of consciousness, and I don't think it should be a cause of real concern. She felt rather than see the other woman next to her stiffen up, as if she wanted to approach a difficult subject. Aria steeled herself, even though she wasn't sure that was exactly right - did Vulcans approach things the same way? Was she interpreting the micro-body language the right way? Stelek: Aria. ::beat:: That wasn't just your heart, that was something else, real fear in your body, it doesn't take a counselor to see there was more to your reaction than your heart condition. Aria took another deep breath and rubbed her head with her prosthetic hand. It took another breath, and another, and then another before she was in a position to decide what to say. Oddas: Truthfully? Since the accident with Alea. She had told Stelek about the accident with Alea before, about the hike just before she had joined the academy; about the rock slide; losing her grip; the dark; being alone for hours; being rescued and being told she would not be with the woman she loved ever again. She had not told Stelek, or many people for that matter, that she had shortly stopped being comfortable outside, stopped being comfortable in the confines of a building, a vehicle, an EV suit. When Aria did have to go outside, she preferred to be in small crowded areas, markets, corridors, surrounded by tall buildings, anything to help her irrational feel let her believe she was inside. Stelek: ::tiny shake of the head:: When you are outside? Up high....? Oddas: Outside, I cannot explain it, just something about being outside makes me feel, nervous, paranoid, upset. Stelek: You've been home since? Mingled with the crowd? She shrugged and opened her hands in exasperation, there was no rational way she could explain it, and she knew she wanted to for the rational Vulcan's sake. Oddas: For some reason, the big anonymous crowd makes it better. I wish I could explain it, it really plays havoc with my introversion. She smiled softly, sadly, but trying to inject some humor into the situation. There was a pause, Aria drank her juice and assumed Stelek was contemplated how to extricate herself from a relationship with a mentally deficient superior officer. Oddas: I won't hold it against you if you want to go. Stelek look at her with something she hadn't seen before. oO Exasperation? Oo Stelek: I'm not going anywhere, Aria, not unless you want me to. Aria bit her lip and looked over her left shoulder to the Vulcan's face, biting her lip, she could feel a question, and more welling up inside her. oO Why? Oo It was an unasked question, and Aria was unsure if she wanted to know the answer. They had been together for some time, but she had been afraid of too much, and this seemed a lot for someone else to take on. Stelek: I love you, it would not be logical for me to abandon me now. The Captain felt hot tears pool in her eyes, and leaned against the taller woman's shoulder. Oddas: You love me? Stelek: Of course. Aria reached up, before she lost her nerve, and kissed the taller woman, letting herself feel safe, comfortable, and loved in the moment.

As you probably know, our crew is currently in the process of transferring to Denali Station. This sim from Fleet Captain @Oddas Aria manages to give a great description of the city as well provide insight into the Captain’s thoughts and feelings. Loved it! ((CO's Quarters, Anchorage, Denali Station)) It had turned out that an entire section of wall in her new quarters simply slid out of the way, changing what she had thought was a small balcony into a large open space including what would undoubtedly become her main seating area. Stelek had made the discovery and, naturally, pulled the large wall effortlessly to the side - folding it into near nothingness in the corner of the room. The wide-open area of the space was breathtaking in every definition of the room. The opening of the space gave the impression of being outside, with the sound of air currents and - she thought - the sound of some sort of avian species speeding by. The steelglass had provided a level of tinting, which was now gone - filling the space with the bright yellow-white light of the midday sun. Aria squinted, even as Stelek casually stepped onto the balcony, her color washing out in the bright sun. Aria's eyes struggled to adjust. Stelek: Aria, I think you would appreciate the view! Almost absentmindedly, the Vulcan had extended her hand behind her and leaned on the short rail made of some sort of metal and glass. At that moment Aria realized she had not moved more past her spot several meters inside where the wall had been deployed from. It was irrational, but she did feel, well, less than comfortable, moving outside - the safety of the building made her feel like she was in the ship, as if she had more control. oO This is ridiculous. Oo She pushed her feet forward, focused on the woman and balcony in front of her. This was an irritation, nothing more. Aria counted her steps, it wasn't too bad, and by the time she got to thirteen she was outside - holding the warm hand of Stelek, who squeezed and glanced at her before looking back towards the horizon. The touch, electric as it was, had a calming effect and she looked to where Stelek was looking. The Administrative district was not in the center of the city. The exact center of Denali was halfway situated between a large mountain range and an ocean coastline, with the Administrative district between the center and the ocean coastline. This mean that from the Anchorage windows and balconies, if you squinted and looked past several of the taller buildings, and were strategic with your view, you could make out the ocean. Of course, the view between Anchorage and the ocean was amazing in and of itself - a collection of buildings of every-size and shape in a dizzying array of colors. Corridors of metal, stone and other materials she couldn't identify, and for functions she could not begin to imagine. From her vantage she could look down at miniature artifacts in the park, and in the distance she could swear she saw a large statue of some sort - several stories tall in the distance looking down at something. Something was wrong - her chest was tight, and her breath was hard to push in and out. Her heart - sharp pain, she clutched it and her knees buckled. Stelek: .... are ..... need .... She couldn't see - everything was black, except for bright flashes of yellow, and fell toward the ground, instinctively she reached for something to break her fall, but only found fabric and something soft. Her shoulder hit the floor, but her head didn't. Aria began to breathe even more heavily, more panicked, even as she registered she was being dragged toward the shade - her skin cooling. Stelek: =/\= Stelek to Medical ... =/\= Oddas: No! Wait! Aria forced herself begin breathing in and out - assess her body, her eyes were squeezed shut and her body was folding in on itself. Her heart was acting fatigued - it had happened once before since her procedure, but not from simple, stupid, thoughts, and thoughts of ... what? panic at being outside. The Captain was still chiding herself when she managed to open her eyes and saw the Vulcan looking down at her, worried, pretense gone. They were back in her quarters, Stelek curled on the floor arms around the Bajoran - Aria's head on her lap, instinctively rubbing her chest and trying to take deep breaths. The Vulcan's worry was quickly turning to skepticism. Oddas: I'll be ok, it's just my heart, the transplant scar, it will just be a second. Stelek: ::raising an eyebrow:: I can have Doctor Indobri here in moments, there is no reason .... Oddas: I was told this could happen, there is no reason to bother them. oO Breath in, and out. Oo Aria concentrated on her breathing, and in turn the pain in her chest began to lessen. She bit her lip and tried to forget about the embarrassment she was feeling creep in. In..... Out..... In..... Out..... Stelek: I doubt the doctor will see it that way. The Bajoran smiled and buried herself in the other woman's arms, who reciprocated by squeezing and pulling her close. Oddas: Thank you, very much. They sat there together on the floor, huddled together until her breathing had calmed down, and her chest had stopped feeling like it was being stabbed. Still, she stayed clutching Stelek for some time afterward. TBC

Thank you Ace for creating such a fantastic character. It's a joy to read about @Dekas adventures and at the same learn so much more about Aurelian culture. ((Dekas’ Quarters, Floor 35, Anchorage)) ((Definitely middle of the night on Denali, but an early afternoon on Aurelia)) ((Interplanetary Timezones, am I right? Euf.)) Dekas paced his new quarters as he had some nights before this. This time, however, he had a reason to stay in the quarters. He occasionally glanced at his bed where there sat a PADD. He was starting to wish he’d told his family to initiate the communication instead of the other way around. After he’d flown, he excitedly calculated the time differences from the station to home, and finally messaged his parents about saying hello more often, as he regretted the sudden silence he’d left them in the past few months. And they had, of course, been delighted just to hear from him, and easily took to planning a time with him to talk over more than just messages. The excitement in the moment didn’t account for the nerves he felt after the fact. He knew they understood his distance, but hadn’t reached out since he’d gone back to the Juneau. Not even after the assimilation. He should have called them after that, but he hadn’t, he couldn’t. They didn’t know how close they’d come to losing him, and he wasn’t sure he wanted them to know. But they would recognize that something had changed. It wouldn’t matter if he was the happiest he could be, or if the tone he used was his most upbeat. They would see something. If he was unlucky enough, they wouldn’t realize it was an upsetting change, and they would say something or ask about it somehow. He didn’t know what he’d say if they asked. For a moment he froze up and his pacing stilled at the thought. Immediately thinking up every excuse he could to get out of this. He could tell them that he’d fallen asleep, it’d been a long day. That some minor emergency came up that required his presence. That he’d eaten something and got food poisoning somehow; he was certainly nauseous enough to feel like it’d be convincing in person. (Unfortunately, this wasn’t in person. They’d know he was lying, and they’d be far too understanding about it.) It would also be an obvious tell, and they’d ask about it unquestionably when they finally actually talked. That meant he couldn’t avoid this. If he was lucky, they’d see it as a good change and he could easily stick to less awful thoughts. He wasn’t feeling very lucky. He was more than frustrated with the fact that he’d half-triggered himself already, and the fact that it was extremely likely he’d end up in a terrible state of mind if someone pushed just the wrong button. He didn’t want to deal with a full trigger. Not with them. Or anyone, preferably. He’d been given a ribbon for recovering a few ceremonies back, after all. He was supposed to be Recovered™. It wouldn’t do to seem like he hadn’t, or like this was still affecting him at all. It felt like it shouldn’t still be affecting him. He’d talked to a counselor about it. He’d said all he needed to say, right? He shouldn’t need to say more. Why would he need to say more? (Maybe he needed to message the Station’s new counselor about this more than he liked to admit. Lilly, with two L’s. Technically 3-L’s. But you couldn’t say that because then people would start spelling it Lillly, Thorne.) oO Stop stalling, Dekas. You can message Lillly later. Oo He stepped toward his bed to sit cross-legged on it, took a deep breath in, and touched the screen to make the communication on the exhale. In the seconds it took for it to properly connect he had to force his thoughts away from the nearly paralyzing anxiety and think about what he could actually tell them. The good things. There were many of those. Of course, for all of his overthinking, he hadn’t considered his emotions about just seeing the visual of another Aurelian, especially his mother. The second he did he had to force himself not to tear up purely because he missed her. Dekas: An shav’ii. (Aurelian for: “hello mom.”) Zuka: ::with a gentle fondness:: An asche zjabi. (Aurelian for: “hello, heart-song.”) The little petname wrecked him. Instant tears in his eyes. Dekas: ::voice cracking:: How are you? Zuka: I’m wonderful. My spirit is restored knowing you are safe. More importantly, how are you? Dekas: ::emotional laughter:: Failing to be calm about any of this. Zuka: Emotions are not indicative of failure. I missed you, too. I miss you still. My heart breaks that I can’t comfort you right now, but it is nice to see you. He had to wipe his eyes and take a few deep breaths to try and calm down. He was trying to talk to his family, not end up a wreck before he could say anything. Dekas: Ignoring the fact I’m in tears, you have no idea how comforting it is just to hear you say so. Zuka: I understood tears were a possibility. You’ve always had such a tender soul. It’s why it’s only me right now. I thought it easier if you started with just one of us. Let you have a few minutes to feel it without feeling too overwhelmed. I’ll bring the rest in as soon as you give the word. Dekas: Am I really that predictable? Zuka: ::head tilt:: You’ve cried over a flower before. Dekas: It was just so beautiful! Zuka: ::soft chuckling:: I know. I remember. Deep purple hibiscus type, with a shimmer that looked like stardust in sunlight and had dew sliding off it just such a way. To some, it would just have been a flower. Maybe even to me. Mm, if only people could just once see through your eyes and appreciate the beauty in small details down to the dewdrop the way you can. I miss having you here for such reasons among many others. ::pause:: But the universe you explore deserves you, and is better for your presence within it. You are meant to shine wherever you are. Because you are you, and you are marvelous, as you so enjoy saying. How deeply he’d missed the Aurelian tendency to speak love like poetry. It felt like being wrapped in a hug. He laughed quietly and wiped a few more tears from his face, but found himself much more at ease. Dekas: I love you. He hadn’t said it out loud to anyone in too long and it felt freeing to finally say it again. Zuka: I love you, too, Dekas. More than words can say. Dekas: You can tell whoever is around that I’m okay to talk now. Zuka gave a two-tone whistle over her shoulder, and in came his dad, four of his sisters, one of his brothers, and one of his sibling’s kids who happened to be visiting with excellent timing. Somewhere deep down he’d hoped to see Koori, but he found himself unsurprised that she wasn’t there this time. Perhaps next time. There was a wave of emotion seeing those who were there and the very casual affection between everyone. Things like that made him feel something between loneliness that he didn’t have it currently and happiness that he would always have it if he went back. But he managed to steel himself enough to tell them about many of the things he’d experienced since he’d been gone. About the friends he’d made, Sera, Kettick, Tomas, Han, others… even the Captain whether or not she knew he held her in his mind as both an inspiring leader and a friend as such. He mentioned the things he’d accomplished without realizing he would. Promotions, job changes, location changes. He told them about some of the fact that he could fly places now, which was not something he’d been able to do much with before. In return, his family told him they were proud of him and filled him in on things he’d missed on the Homefront. At least one more niece or nephew hatched. He’d started losing count of how many of those he had now. And they told him about their days. Their ups, and their downs. He didn’t avoid the talk of stress when it came back to his turn. The pirates, the shaking ships. The confidence, followed by the occasional moments of insecurity about changes in role, how competent he really was, or how people saw him. A little about the disconnect within himself. He pointedly tried his best to skirt around the part where he’d nearly died a few months back. But somewhere in the process, he’d begun to stammer as his hand went to the side of his neck while he looked for words he could say instead. After an hour it ended back with only himself and his mother. Just before he could almost reluctantly utter his goodbyes she mirrored the neck touch while looking right at him. And he wasn’t sure whether or not he hated the fact that she recognized it as an anxious tick, and that it was more than anxiety about reaching out. Zuka: How are you, really? Stupidly, his hand went right to his neck again. Dekas: I… I am not ready to talk about it. It hurts so much sometimes I can hardly stand it. She tilted her head, thinking, then looked sad for him. And he had to fight his guilt about that sadness. Zuka: You took on lightning*. I don’t know in what way, and I respect that you need time. But I am sorry all the same that it was an aspect you had to take upon yourself. Dekas: It’s okay. Or it’s not. But I am safe. Zuka: Know that I am always here when you are ready, and I am here even if you never feel ready. I will listen either way. Dekas: Thank you. His mom nodded. Zuka: Mm, I can tell you are tired. So I believe it is time I let you go to bed. When you wake up, remember that the steps you take might be painful, and the thunder that follows you might seem deafening at times. But the thunder is just a sound behind you, and you are the powerful source ahead of it. So strike the ground and blaze the forward path.** Dekas: I’ll do my best. Zuka: That is all I can ask for. Rest well, Dekas. I love you. Dekas: Love you. If you see her… tell Koori I said hello. And have a good rest of your day. The communication ended, and he wished it didn’t hurt for it to end. But he also felt a weight off his shoulders knowing that the initial conversation was handled, and next time would be better. [End / NT. Some Dekas & Bird Mom for y’all. Because Bird Mom is the ultimate motivational speaker, and hype woman.] — * “To take on lightning” Aurelian idiom that means to go through something and come into a new aspect of self in the aftermath. Usually through something painful. Relates to one of their more popular Phoenix mythos stories in which the Phoenix reforms for the first time and takes on/becomes the aspect of lightning in a very dramatic fashion. ** “Strike the ground and blaze the forward path.” Also related to the lightning myth. It means something like, “Kick its ass, you’ve got this.” The Aurelians live for such phrases and colorful metaphors, and I clearly have too much free time if I’m coming up with mythos to create these weird, but strangely coherent, idioms with. Lieutenant Dekas Head of Infrastructure Development Denali Station J239802D12

I love sims with wordbuilding, with delicate and wonderful descriptions and smooth, seamless scene pacing and @Tahna Meru gives us a wonderful example here, polishing his prose and taking us into an alien world through her character's eyes without leaving out the ins and outs of what's going on in Meru's head while adding so much to keep the scene going in a wonderful example of collaborative writing. Great work Eris! ((Festival Grounds, Yarista, Palanon)) The two Bajoran women sat on the grass in the dark park, untouched by the lights of the city. It was like a bit of wilderness in the midst of the technologically advanced city. Every single pebble, every solitary blade of grass, was arranged in a perfect mimicry of the untouched natural environment—or maybe it wasn’t a mimicry at all, and this park had never been tamed by the Tyrellians. It was so serene, not even the tiny hunting griffins could disturb the peace as they chased down the violet fireflies. Meru laughed as she teased Ena about her crush, before leaning back on her elbows, her mind a quadrant away as she seriously pondered her friend's question. What promise would she make if she were Ena? What promise would Meru have made on her cadet cruise? Work hard, get a good Ensign placement, make friends? But those were all things Ena was proving successful at already. Tahna: I– ::She started to answer then stopped herself, a thoughtful frown settling on her face.:: I’m not sure, Ena. I feel like you’re lightyears ahead of where I was on my cadet cruise. I mean, you’re on a flagship, and that placement has very little to do with any recommendation I gave you. Ico: :Quick and :incoherently::Well, but you helped or I was lucky or... more just...unlucky with all the Darime thing, and Ryan spoke for me, too, and... well if I just... Tahna: I think if I were you, I would promise to be more sure of myself. Don’t second-guess your qualifications, your knowledge, your contributions. You deserve to be here just as much as anyone else. Ico: I don’t know if-… ::She paused and bit her lip. :: Nearby, a Tyrellian couple was also preparing for the festival. They spread a blanket out on the wild grass, marking out a place for themselves in the park as it began to get crowded. Bajorans and Tyrellians alike carried lanterns, some homemade, some bought from the vendors. They set up picnic blankets and folding chairs and laid back on the grass to watch the fireflies and griffins dance overhead, the light from the little insects painting the evening sky in pinks and purples. But Ena wasn’t looking at this marvelous scene so much as through it, her eyes a thousand suns away even as she watched the intricate predator-prey aerial dance of the native wildlife. Ico: I'll do it, I promise. Meru withdrew a calligraphy brush and a small pot of ink from her bag. She certainly wasn’t artistically talented, but she had a steady enough hand to draw a prayer sigil on her lantern. The question remained, what blessing would she ask for herself? It was strange to be in this position, no respected Bajoran elder to offer a blessing on her behalf, to guide her in what to say. She wasn’t entirely alone, though; she had a respected friend whose advice she could ask. Tahna: In Kashnar, usually the matriarchs inscribe blessings for their children. I’ve never had to come up with my own before. ::She turned to her friend, twirling the brush in her fingers.:: What blessing would you ask for me? Ico: What? Ru I-I am not a matriarch, how would I know what to write? Tahna: You’re a respected friend, your opinion is worth just as much as my mother’s right now. More, actually, considering just how tense Meru’s relationship with her mother had become. Ico: ::blushing once more:: Hush you! Meru smiled. Even with the sadness of remembering home, she was glad to be celebrating a Bajoran holiday on such a large scale again—actually, this celebration seemed much larger than the ones in her hometown. There’d been smaller celebrations at the Academy, of course, hosted by a local vedek, but he was from the forests of Hedrikspool, and his celebrations were entirely different, with candles in place of lanterns. Now, in her new home, it felt…right to make her own traditions again. Finally, Ena took Meru’s lantern. Ico: If I were a matriarch, which I'm not, and I had to give you a blessing.... Ena took a fine brush from her own set began carefully tracing the complex Bajoran glyphs on Meru’s lantern while the older girl watched. Ico:...If I should give you a blessing I would say may the land always make a path before your steps, may the wind always blow at your back, may the sun always shine warm on your face, and may the Light of the Prophets always shine on you, bringing the same warm light that you give to those around you. Ena dotted the final glyph and returned the lantern, the dark ink drying quickly in the gentle breeze. Meru admired the lantern, and smiled at her friend. Tahna: You’re too kind. Ico: Well, I think you deserve it, after all, you're great Meru! I wouldn't be here without you. Tahna: Hey, didn’t I just tell you to be more sure of yourself? Besides, there’s plenty I’m not great at. Ico: Tell me that at the end of the year, Lieutenant Tahna, when you'll be giving me orders like... Hey, look, it has begun! A gong sounded, drawing the crowd’s attention to a small group of vermilion-robed Vedeks. They processed from the near end of the park to an altar, carrying lanterns and candles, and the park fell into a reverent silence as they watched. Meru caught her friend’s eyes with a quick smile, before turning her attention back to the procession. When they reached the altar, the Vedeks circled it. Each stepped forward to light one of the candles on the altar. Then, as one, they began reciting a prayer in Bajoran, their voices echoing through the park. They spoke of the Occupation, of the loneliness of leaving one’s home, of the darkness individuals often battled; and then of the light of every individual’s pagh, the power of every individual being to make the world a little bit lighter. Ico: Response With one final blessing, the Vedeks dispersed throughout the crowd, lighting the lanterns of each onlooker they passed, though everyone was waiting to release their lanterns and prayers until the end. Meru turned to her friend with a small smile now as they waited in turn, the crowd now filling the silence with a hushed murmur. Tahna: May you bring light wherever you go, Ena. A traditional greeting for others during ital’mara¹ (back in Kashnar, at least). The expected response back home would be, “and may you find light wherever you roam,” but it was likely another example of how their traditions differed. The same festival could look so different on the other side of the continent (now, even on the other side of the cosmos), and that was part of its beauty. Ico: Response Tahna: What else did you write on your scroll? Unless it’s too personal. Ico: Response ¹ Bajoran: Festival of Lights

@Bryce Tagren-Quinn is always a consistently great writer, with a thoughtful and calm character. This little conflict, with his doctor's voice and personality shining through and seamlessly interweaving with the tone of the scene, is a delight to read, and I hope to come across other such delightful sims again soon. Thanks for this scene, Kara! ((Main Sickbay, Deck 7, USS Gorkon)) After his conversation with Doctor Namura, Bryce was feeling like a weight had lifted off his shoulders. He hadn’t realized how much he had been hanging onto things, having lived in rumination land a tad too long, but was feeling much better knowing that they had a plan in place to get Tzim-Shah the best possible outcome the medical team could offer. Tagren-Quinn: As for the prosthetic, I was able to get the first steps in motion but we’ll need to reconnect once a few things line up. I will be connecting with Lieutenant Lephi shortly. I know you have a full, booked day ahead of you so I don’t want to keep you. Let’s plan to reconnect tomorrow regarding next steps. He was firm in that answer, his eyes locked onto the Tellarite’s to show that he wasn’t going to budge on the matter. He wasn’t under any illusion that the man wouldn’t just contact her himself. If that was the case, then he would have been forced to take it into an expedited direction. Tzim-Shah: Hang on there boy, you don't want to tell me something, I smell it. What's the matter, has the damn screw-tightener get cold feet or what?! Bryce stood, unfazed by the assertiveness of the other man. Tagren-Quinn: Not at all, Ensign. It’s a process and we have to… The Tellarite clipped right through his sentence, his impatience shining through as brightly as Sol herself. Tzim-Shah: Look, I don't buy it, there's a catch and you don't want to let it out. Well fine, keep your secrets, but this is why we all think you're all a bunch of wussy butchers. We? Who was we? Dumbfounded, the doctor watched as the security officer moved off the bio-bed in one adrenaline-driven motion, his face at his a mere nanosecond later. Fangs were dangerously close in a move meant for intimidation but the El-Aurian hybrid didn’t budge or blink. In fact, he exaggerated the few inches he had on the other man, calling upon the primordial instincts and behaviors of his ancient ancestors. He had been stabbed and shot in the ED before, and had the scars to prove it. Punched in the gut and the face. Been pinned against the wall by a Nausicaan, too. He had been assaulted, been spit on. Pissed on. Did the other man not know what doctors endured for the sake of their patients? Tagren-Quinn: There’s no catch, Ensign, I assure you. There’s no great conspiracy. But we have to do things by the book. Medical is medical. Things already went rogue once before. His words hung in the air, a little bit more bitter than he intended them to be. He didn’t add the piece about, “…and see where we are now.” He didn’t want to cause a scene. That is what he was trying to avoid. The Tellarite just mumbled as he struggled to pull his tunic over his head. Tzim-Shah: Whatever, buddy, I'll figure it out even if I have to contact that crazy woman myself. Tagren-Quinn: You won’t because I already have a call in. It is a call that we needed to make. It is a step that we, on the medical team, have to take. Tzim-Shah: Response Tagren-Quinn: …and, you are a Starfleet officer, Ensign. And you will listen to your doctor. You will not meddle with this work. I will be in touch once the Lieutenant and I are able to discuss this thoroughly. It is not a conversation that we can have on the fly, right here and now. Do you understand? It is a prosthetic. It is an involved process. If we want to do this right, if you want the possible outcome, you will listen to me this time. He stood firm, eyes locked on the Tellarite’s in a bid to impress the importance of this. It wasn’t often that the doctor went this way, but sometimes the individual and the situation called for it. Tzim-Shah: Response Tagren-Quinn: I’m here to help you. We will see you tomorrow for the surgery and we’ll discuss the next steps then. Do you understand? Tzim-Shah: Response

It was quiet. Far too quiet. And dark. How did it get so dark? Suddenly, there was light everywhere. Her arm raised involuntarily to block the sudden and near blinding light. Now, the room was filled with an excited buzzing as a loud, larger than life voice boomed somewhere above her. Announcer: Gooooooooddd evening ladies, gentlemen, and undeclared!!! Tonight is an ultra special night oooofff....INTERGALACTIC MASTERCHEF!!! The excited buzzing turned into a fever pitch of cheering and applause, the light above her narrowed and focused directly on her, all other lights kicked off. A hush fell over the unseen crowd. At least she thought it was a crowd, it had to be, based on the noise level. Where was she? And how did she get here...? And...was she wearing a chef apron?? Announcer: In this special event, we've brought you someone straight from the Halii homeworld, Miss Talia Ohnari!!!! Again the unseen but very much heard crowd roared to life. Where was she?? And Intergalactic masterchef? Was that show still on...? Besides, she was a baker...was this some sort of prank? Announcer: Aaaand in this ultra-special prime time event, we've got our reigning champion....THE BUTCHER BOSS!!!! The light above her was still blazing hot, but about thirty feet away another bright light kicked on and there was a dark robed, faceless figure with a bloody chef's coat raised his meaty fists in the air, before bowing to the crowd. Dear Gods this could not be real. She tried pinching her leg, but somehow she just couldn't move. Frozen in the beam of light. Announcer: Now that we've met our contestants let's find out about ouuurr ::booming:: SECRET INGREDIENT!!! Again, the crowd was explosive with excitement. Alright. She could do this, she could make whatever was needed and find a way to get out of here and back to....back to....wait, wasn't she just on the beach?? Glancing down, she realized she was in her swimsuit and barefoot under her chef's coat. Ohnari: What in the.. Suddenly, she wasn't on a stage anymore, the spotlight was gone, and she was in a kitchen. The strangest kitchen she'd ever seen. It looked more like a morgue...and why was it freezing? instinctively, her hand tried to find what should be her communicator, but it was just a chef coat. A blank, communicator free patch of white. Announcer: Now, we all know the rules. The chefs have not been given any clue as to what it was....::a loud groan fluttered across the room:: Well....Butcher Boss may have helped us procure it....Sorry there Tali, winner's prerogative... Ohnari: It's...uh...ok? The dark hooded figure let out a menacing laugh that seemed to cut right through her. Announcer: So, if our chefs will please remove the table cloth we caaaan....::the crowd roared to life:: GET TO COOKING!!! Again, all the blinding light and cheering. Barely able to find her own hand in front of her, she was suddenly holding a table cloth in her hands and looking down on....OH GODS. A scream ripped through her. There, in a metal box, was a Trill Symbiot. And not just any Symbiot, it was Rajel. Clambering backwards, the sounds of utensils and pans crashed all about her. The crowd was again deafening, and suddenly the darkened figure was right in front of her. Stepping out from behind him, was a completely healthy looking Commodore. Well...mostly healthy. Jalana appeared next to her with a gaping hole haphazardly across her stomach. Jalana: C'mon Tali, you don't have to worry, I'm fine without him. Butcher Boss was surprisingly gentle. Besides, I've heard it tastes of chicken! (( The Space, Starbase 104, Several Days After Arrival )) Screaming, Talia shot up from her previously reclined position on the cushioned lake chair. Around her, the light had partially faded. It was a dream. A dark, shockingly disturbing dream. She'd never felt so confused and terrified in her life. She reached up to try and check her own pulse when a half eaten cucumber and Andorian pickle sandwich fell to her lap. Ohnari: YOU! Betrayed by that sweet, salty Andorian brine. She tossed the sandwich away as if it was burning her and stood, shaking off the last vestiges of that horrific pickle-induced nightmare. --------------------------------------------- Ensign Talia Ohnari, MD USS Constitution-B C239205ME0

I don't need assigned quarters, she said. I'm going to look in the commercial district, she said. Be careful what you wish for. 😉 IC: ((Freedom Beach, Little Risa, StarBase 118)) The Commercial Sector of StarBase 118 reminded Aine of something she'd read about in ancient Earth history. The city on the North American continent named New York had once been referred to as The City That Never Sleeps. She'd never been there but imagined it was much like the cities she had been to. Sure there was always a vibrant nightlife, but for the most part the majority of a city just slept. The Commercial Sector wasn't like that at all. Some of her appointments to view apartments were even scheduled late into the night. Thankfully she didn't have anything else really going on and luckily this one was during the day. Her first appointment was set for a small highrise in Little Risa just off the beach. And by small it was still nearly as big as the resort she'd stayed in when she was on the actual Risa. As she approached the building, she was amazed how they'd gotten the environment to match so well. About the only thing that it might be missing was Risa's three moons. The lobby of the building was very typically Risian. Wide open with big leafed plants everywhere. A woman approached her dressed in what might be considered formal were it not for the very short skirt and very low collared shirt. And much like her short time on Risa, Aine felt overdressed in her typical leggings and flannel shirt. Keana: Hello! ::grabbing and hugging Aine:: You must be my 1500? Sherlock: Yes, ::reaching out to shake hands:: Lieut...um...Aine, I'm...Aine. Keana: It's lovely to meet you! The woman was overtly chipper and it caught Aine off guard. She had to remember that this was a civilian area of the station. Formality probably wasn't something they practiced much of, especially in Little Risa. Keana: Well, as you may have noticed, we have direct beach access. This building also has its own dining hall, complete with fully stocked bar. It has synthale if you prefer. Sherlock: Oh, no, I definitely prefer the real thing. Keana: Excellent! Keana's smile was huge. The kind of smile Aine was sure she practiced for every potential tenant. Keana: Within walking distance, there's many shops, bars, and specialty services ::giving Aine a wink::. You're never alone in Little Risa! Sherlock: Great. ::nodding her head slowly:: oOIs this for real?Oo Keana had led her to a lift which promptly took them up to the sixth floor. After a short walk down the hall and some small talk Aine was sure Keana practiced like her smile, they came to the apartment for rent. When the door swished open, there was a burst of cool air. Walking in, it seemed more like an extended stay resort room than anything else. Keana: You have your living space, kitchen with a replicator if you prefer not to cook, and a half bath. And over here, ::pushing Aine along with a hand in the small of her back:: Is your bedroom. And a wonderful master bath. This was one of the most important things to Aine, a water bath. It was something she always looked forward to when either the Resolution or the Excalibur came into dock. She always reserved a room on DeepSpace 224 just for that. Yeah a sonic shower got you clean, but there was nothing quite like laying back and soaking in steaming hot water to relax. The tub of this apartment looked like it could hold four people, not that she'd want to have three others with her in it. Keana: You also have two balconies overlooking the beach. ::leading Aine to the balcony of the master bedroom:: It's a wonderful view! The door slid open and the warm and slightly humid air rushed in as Aine stepped out to the railing. From here she could see Trinity City and Ashalla. And something else... Sherlock: ::pointing to a couple on the beach:: Um, what are they doing? Keana stepped up next to her to see what she was referencing. Keana: Oh! Jamaharon. Sherlock: Oh god! I...uh...need to go. Aine quickly turned and went back inside, and straight for the door. While the view and weather were great, she didn't feel comfortable with that happening right outside her door. It wasn't that she didn't understand, it just wasn't her thing to watch. Keana: ::yelling after Aine:: Well, let us know if you change your mind! tbc Lieutenant Aine Sherlock Tactical Officer StarBase 118 Ops R239712AS0

I saw this sim from @Ulasso and immediately knew I wanted to highlight it in the appreciations thread. Really stand up job of starting up an interesting NPC. Great job man, and thanks for jumping into the character so deeply! I want to see this becoming a recurring character going forward!