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Found 355 results

  1. ((OOC: Awesome sim, Ensign @Keneth Nakada!)) (( Shuttlebay 2, USS Arrow )) Nakada: ::whispering:: Commander, those are some very primitive suits. Collins: Indeed, Ensign, but maybe we can turn that to our advantage. Scan for any junction points, exposed areas, or weak points in the structure of the suits if you can and as quick as you like, thank you... Keneth took a second to steady his hands. He was scared. Really scared. First time, eh? His brain chirped a little too cheerily. Adrenaline kicked in pretty quickly and he fumbled his tricorder open, carefully breaching the dampening field with just the front of the sensors pack. A reassuring stream of data began appearing. Atmospheric pressure, spatial volume … engineering schematic breakdown. The device’s scans showed what appeared to be unibody insulated construction, except for ... Nakada: The sides.The tiny black indentations on the sides of the suit appear to be exposed circuitry, maybe to ground it, or externally deactivate the suit. Regardless, I they appear to connect directly to the internal systems. Probably. Most of it was just guesswork. It had been a while since he’d read an engineering schematic raw. He was too used to nice holographic representations with simulations. Collins: Of course they bloody are. ::He turned to the warrant officer.:: Would shooting those kill them? The warrant officer thought for a second. Kingsley: It should - or I imagine it might cause an overload in their power systems and cause them some time to reset. Even some time to reset would be helpful. Collins: Okay, good. I want to stem any more loss of life if we can avoid it. Here's the play. I am going to get them to expose that area and then you two, being the hip young gunslingers you are, are going to disable them. Hopefully allowing us to ask them a few questions and get up to the Bridge to hopefully kill that ruddy dampening field. Everyone clear? He nodded, fighting an impulse to giggle at hip young gunslingers. It was a snort-worthy comment. Nakada: Yes, sir. Collins: If I told you that, you wouldn't let me do it. Just be ready... Keneth watched keenly. Maybe the commander had some further knowledge about them that he could glean from what he did next. Then the commander raised his hands and sprinted comically at the suits. He was torn between calling the commander a fumbling idiot and simply saying it was technically the simplest trick in the book. So simple it would work. The warrant officer looked like she wanted to have an aneurysm as she bit her tongue. Collins: Heya, boys! The suit let out a noise. He sincerely hoped it was a similarly raucous introduction. Collins: SAY, this isn't Deep Space 12! Gee, Stellar Cartography isn't what it used to be, is it? Keneth had to actively remind himself of what was happening to stay focused. This was hilarious. Collins: I tell ya, boys, you think you know a map and then it just spits ya out right where ya least wa- In a flash that broke his semi-unfocused state of befuddlement, the creature got over its confusion and grabbed the science officer, lifting him up like a helium carcass. Damn it, the commander couldn’t be hurt now. He had to find out what Skeets was. Just as he began to calculate how to get within range of the creature safely, Kingsley sprinted ahead. He wasn’t completely sure what to do, so he followed, staying to the side. Boarder #1: STARRRRRRFLEETERRRR. See, that was an aberration of Federation Standard. Kingsley raised her phaser and fired straight at the narrow strip of exposure. In a moment of horror Keneth realised he was directly where the creature would fall. Cursing his absentmindedness, he ran around the creature, hoping he was still hidden, though that probably meant very little to the boarder’s sensors. Kingsley: That was stun! Increase to full power! He could hear faint beeps as the warrant officer adjusted her phaser settings and fired again. CRACK A small plasma shockwave went through the corridor as the electrical discharge arced outward. The boarder holding Collins dropped to the ground, though he couldn’t see what happened to the commander. He also very quickly realised that the other boarder was very quickly approaching him, raising his arm. Keneth was still dazed from the shockwave and wouldn’t be able to aim and Kingsley’s phaser was probably completely discharged … So he did the one thing he had been told never to do. He aimed his phaser at the access hatch across the hallway, closed his eyes and fired. He couldn’t risk announcing it - hopefully the other two would duck. SNAP The plasma conduit exploded, the remaining superheated gas in it dousing the other creature, ions overcharging their suits. A loud snapping sound came as a pungent odour of burning bulkhead material filled the air, another flash searing his retinas. The remaining boarder had dropped down. Nakada: HELLO? Commander? Kingsley? Anyone there?! He coughed violently as he steadied himself against the wall, desperately searching for the other two in the haze. He could feel his jovial nature wearing off as the situation settled and he realized what had just happened. Collins: Response Kingsley: Response Nakada: ::coughing:: I can’t, I don’t - He wanted to pass out. He was in over his head. He was supposed to tinker with EPS efficiencies and Warp XV drives. This wasn’t fair. It had been twenty four hours. Barely any time to do anything he’d imagined. Time to be a normal officer. He fought his nausea, his head spinning. Well, he thought ironically. He had the opportunity so many dreamed of – to make a difference. His crewmates were depending on him. Collins: Response Nakada: I don’t know how long we have. They seemed to be able to abs, ads, absorb ::heaving:: a fair amount of energy. We should assume they’ll wake up within fifteen minutes I’d think. He dropped to the floor and shook his head clear, fragments of debris falling out of his hair. They’d come so close to being puddles of soup. Collins: Response Kingsley: Response Ensign Keneth Nakada Engineering USS Juneau, NX-99801 J239706KN0
  2. STOP. Just stop. You've managed to found a GREAT example of a sim. One that have made me smile and chuckle all the way. One that mix the joy and silly parts you sometimes see in a Star Trek show and, at the same time, keeps being AWESOME. And Mister @Wes Greaveshas managed to do this he alone so... _____________________________________________ ((Ferenginar, Outskirts of Upper Bowog Bay, . Late evening )) A street race. If someone had asked Wes what was the very last thing he expected a Vulcan Doctor to suggest, a street race on Ferenginar would have topped the list of “there’s no way”. Then to find that not only their physician but their chief engineer had thrown down the gauntlet together, well it all made Wes drastically reconsider his assessment on Vulcan spontaneity. Particularly the spontaneity of drunk Vulcans. What had started as Alieth’s offhand comment about the crew’s new-to-them grav bikes had quickly spiraled into an opportunity to mercilessly hound the intoxicated woman until she committed to her half-baked idea. Now in the pouring rain, he began to regret his campaign to ensure the race actually occurred. The droplets fell like fat, wet, rocks, seeming to ping off the Marine’s sleek black and red racing gear. The Ferengi he bought the suit from assured him that not only would it match the red racing bike, but it would also decrease drag, protect him from debris, and keep him mostly dry. Now that he was wearing it, Wes was pretty sure it was just a scheme to get the salesman some extra latinum and drum up a good excuse for others to place bets on the Marine. He did look fast after all. From his perch on to the side of the starting line Wes examined his position. As soon as it became apparent that the pair of Vulcan officers intended to modify their bike, Wes had raced down to the Marine Deck and enlisted the help of the detachment’s combat engineers. While only half had been around at the time, getting the group to help was simple. The man simply had to explain that the officers of Medical and Engineering thought they could dare challenge the Marines. Wes practically had to beat back the number of volunteers with a stick. Now, kneeling over open panels in the SAG in the soaking rain with eager smiles, two of his combat engineers argued over a modification they were working on. Cooland: Are you crazy! It’s already front heavy as it is. If we throw another power cell in the front the Lieutenant’s gonna be riding a supped-up plow! Porter: No way man, we’ll just reroute some of the extra power to front grav thrusters to compensate. Plus, there’s no way the inducer coil is going to run for longer than a few seconds without it. Cooland: Even if we could compensate, he’ll be riding on a freakin powder keg. Are you going to explain to the skipper how we cooked the Platoon Commander when it goes up in flames? A shiver ran down Wes’s spine and he chose to walk away from the conversation before he learned so much that he refused to ever get within 20 feet of the bike again. He instead paced over towards where Alieth and Sirok were finishing their own modifications. Doing his best to look inconspicuous in his very conspicuous outfit, the man eavesdropped on his opponents. Alieth: How the modifications progress? Sirok: For this race, finished. :: He kept to himself his opinion on what should be done with those particular SAGs.:: Alieth: I see (wiping the rain off her face) what advantage will that give us? Sirok: I have tried to stay within the basic characteristics of the vehicle, but I have improved the drive system to give a higher cornering speed, as well as more top speed time. I have placed several sensors inside to control all technical aspects, I will be able to guide you if you need to make any adjustments during the run. :: Besides being able to obtain performance data for the future design of a SAG under Starfleet standards.:: Wes frowned given the new information, and upon a sideways glance from Sirok, he turned away as if engaged in enthusiastic conversation with a Ferengi. Fortunately further off in the crowd, a rabble-rouser hurled some words of encouragement. Ferengi 1: Hey! Vulcans! I have bet two bars of latinum that you will crash the human into a tree, don't even think about failing, or you will have to deal with my lawyer! Images of Wes colliding with a tree followed immediately by a plume of orange and yellow flame ran through his mind. Maybe his bike would explode if he hit a tree? Wes hoped against hope that his two Marines figured out their power supply issue before the race started. He tried to push the thought from his mind as he strolled back over toward the Red Rocket. Porter has just sealed the last panel as Wes walked up again, with the third Marine nowhere in sight. Greaves: Where’d Cooland go? Porter: Ah, he got his feelings hurt and went off to pout. ::Toothy grin:: Don’t worry sir. I got you. You’re all set. Let’s do this! Before Wes could ask whether he needed to change into something more flame retardant, one of his opponents cut him off. Alieth: Ready to start, Mr. Greaves? Or have you decided to give up? Sirok raised an eyebrow, it seemed that the doctor was using Sobok's advice not to support a comrade but to undermine the morale of a rival. In any case, he did not care about the result of the race, but about the performance of the vehicle and the data he could get from it and from others. Greaves : Whoa, Doc. When did you learn how to talk smack? I know you didn’t have time to learn this morning with the migraine you must have woken up with! We’re ready to rock over here! Alieth: Response Wes anxiously glanced over at Porter who gave him two thumbs up and a wink. Sirok: Do you need me to check your vehicle? Greaves: And let the competition see what we’ve got hiding up our sleeve? Unless you’re going to let us check your work, there’s no way! Keep your nose in your own SAG. Sirok: Response Alieth: Response? A small drone whizzed by close overhead and the crowd swelled in volume. It seemed that the call for initial bets had closed and a hurried Ferengi rushed over to the starting line. Race Organizer: It’s time to start! The patrons are getting impatient and all of the bets are in. You’ve got two minutes before we start. ::jabbing a finger toward Alieth:: If you’re not ready to go in time we’ll seek recompense as stated in the contract! Sirok/Alieth: Response Another drone soared by and Wes realized the small flying machines weren't courier drones but were cameras. Greaves: Wait a sec Alieth. ::exasperated:: It this being televised?! Sirok/Alieth: Response Wes jogged back toward his SAG shaking his head. A competitive pair of Vulcans. Now he’d seen everything. Wes snapped his racing helmet into place and a small HUD activated in his visor. The Marine smiled at the handiwork of the modifications the crew had made in such a short time. Porter helped Wes onto the bike and got the thrusters started. With a low hum, the SAG hopped gingerly off the ground, albeit with a slight forward tilt. It took no time at all to finesse the bike to the starting line where Alieth waited atop her own. A gleeful smile played across his face as Wes revved the engine and winked at Alieth. The crowd swelled again as an announcer counted off toward the start of the race. From behind the pair of racers, Corporal Cooland ran down a small hill toward the starting line waving his arms and shouting something indistinct. Unfortunately for Wes, he didn’t hear, nor see the Marine behind him. With the wave of a flag, a cheer from the crowd, and a roar of engines, the contenders shot off onto the course. ========================= 1st Lieutenant Wes Greaves Marine Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 E239702WG0 =========================
  3. Great ending to a honorable Klingon warrior @Sal Taybrim!! ((Inside Main Production Facility, Vonkoth II)) K’Parg of the house of Morpok was young, brash, straightforward and honest. He was the second youngest son of Mat’pon, a warrior of little glory but steadfast honor. His had always been a support house, standing behind those with strong ideals and strong honor. He was not afraid to die today. In fact, ensuring that his Commander could retrieve the qulCha’par through a fight rather than dying to torture or poison was the best honor he could hope for. May Lofsha carry his deeds back home to his family and may his younger brother rise up, supported by the story of his honor and serve the Empire well and honorably. K’parg had no regrets. He knew that Sto’vo’kor would welcome him this day. K’parg: Win the war, Commander! I die with honor today! He rushed Korv and slammed the older Klingon back against the wall in a stunning blow. His display was enough to provide plenty of cover and he heard a blast door close behind him. The qulCha’par would fly today, for the glory of the Empire. Korv: ::at two guard minions who were punching back the prisoners:: Shoot them! You are members of the Cult of Molor. No need for hand-to-hand, imbeciles. Just shoot! Gach’ah: ::stomps to where Lofsha was seen last:: Where is the Commander?! How did she break free?! The fight wasn’t exactly fair. Korv had weapons and all his limbs free, K’parg was unarmed and shackled, still, he fought like a demon, feeling the crunch of armor and bone on his opponent even as he was battered to his knees. His face was split and bleeding from a second hit, but he knew his commander was well on her way to striking back. K’parg: You think you will win, you honorless pig? You will only be remembered for your treachery and your death will be used as an example of what happens when you betray your name! He took a kick to the chest for that statement and he smiled, a vicious tooth smile. Did that hurt? Good. No amount of physical pain could match the honorless death these two would face. Korv: ::calling out above the battle cries and noise:: Your Captain will not make it far. She is but one, our Brothers and Sisters are plenty! They will catch her, ::more to himself:: and when they do… ::trails off while kicking a prisoner, who was already sprawled on the floor, in the stomach with his heavy boot:: Gach’ah: ::sneers:: You will call for your Captain and your life will be spared! Despite the pain, the growing roster of broken bones and the flowing blood, K’parg smiled. He stood on his feet the best he could, pleased at the damage he had been able to cause to his enemies despite limitations. If they were asking for his help it meant they were scared that she would succeed. They should be. Lofsha and the crew of the qulCha’par would succeed. K’parg: I will not. She will kill you and bring your cult to its knees. Korv: ::raises his firearm, aiming it squarely at K’parg:: Finally, you will meet your end. Dishonorably restrained and killed by a lame, one eyed Klingon. You will not reach StoVoKor! His smile widened, blood staining his teeth. K’parg: I have been honorable and loyal to my last breath. Kahless will welcome me in StoVoKor. Gach’ah: ::huffs:: There is no such place! Where you're going will be nothing, but emptiness and despair! Now he was sure this cult was done for. Even if he died, he was sure he would be welcomed in the halls of StoVoKor. Them denying its existence only cemented his belief. They were the ones who lived in fear. They were the ones who knew they were damned. They wanted to shake his resolve in his last moments. But K’parg of the house of Morpok would not be swayed. K’parg: You lie to yourself, and you know it. You are afraid of death, because you have lived a life without honor. I am not afraid. Korv: ::laughing loudly:: Whaha! Idiot. Show him boss, what we do with people that speak nonsense. That hit home. The honorless swine walked forward, grabbing K’parg and landing punishing blows, the sort of horrific violence that was pushed by self-loathing and internal doubt. K’oarg had no doubt that Gach’ah hatred was less to do with K’parg himself – he was only speaking the truth, but fueled by Gach’ah own inner failures, hatred, and lack of honor. Korv: ::annoyed:: Hey!:: oO Great. He does it again. Ruining my bit of fun. Oo ::sighs and steps back:: Gach'ah: ::leans in, inches away from K'parg's face:: Join the Cult of Molor and you will be rewarded a bountiful of treasures and gifts from the Orion Syndicate. We can give you what the Empire cannot… A chance to live. Through the blood and the pain, K’parg’s dark eyes fixed upon Gach’ah and he spoke clearly. K'parg: I have lived more in these last few honorable moments that you will even live in your entire honorless life. You will choke upon your lies and if you are lucky a Klingon will kill you before the Orion Syndicate shoves a knife in your back. That was it. Gach’ah pulled the trigger and K’parg slumped backwards. He died as he lived, blunt, honest and honorable. Today was a good day to die. ~*~ ~fin~ ~*~ MSNPC Sogh K’Parg First Officer IKS qulCha’par
  4. This topic is for any funny, motivational, inspiring (add any adjective you want) quotes which have been uttered aboard the USS Atlantis in it's many adventures.
  5. @Wes Greaves and @Addison MacKenzie had create this HILAROUS piece of gold I've LOVED almost since the first line. The sass on it is over 9000 and it's a good GOOD example of WHY medical visit could be AWESOME. Just saying Mr. Greaves would maybe die later in an unknow circunstances that could involve, or not, a logically outraged vulcan ------------------------------------------------- ((Main Shuttle Bay, Deck 7, USS Thor) The Ra settled onto the metal deck plating of the shuttlebay, it’s hull still smoking slightly from the flight through the intense ion storm. Wes unbuckled his harness and attempted to stand. The flight had been jarring and the Marine felt like he had just finished an intense spin cycle on the world’s largest washing machine. Not one, but two storage compartments had burst open on the flight, the second of which spilling its contents directly into his lap and onto his injured leg. Apparently it had only seventeen twelve minutes from takeoff to landing, and apparently that had been long enough for his anger to reside, his medication to wear off, and one of his stitches to painfully tear. The result wasn’t pretty. His attempt at standing immediately failed, and a wave of dizziness ran through him making the interior of the shuttle spin. Fortunately one of the colonists caught the man and helped steady him. Wes could feel fresh blood seeping down his leg, and a spreading red splotch on his patched EV suit suggested the bleeding may actually be significant once again. Pandorn: ::standing up and moving to the colonists:: Everyone, watch your step getting out. Once out of the shuttle, get clear of the shuttle and wait for the medical staff. ::slight smile:: And welcome to the USS Thor. ::to Wes:: You as well Wes. Let Doctor Mackenzie look at you, no problem? Greaves: You won’t hear any more protest from me sir. On it. Wes nodded appreciation to the colonist through gritted teeth after his head cleared and hobbled his way down the ramp of the shuttle. (( Sickbay, Deck 10, USS Thor )) When MacKenzie received an updated report of the colonists, she was surprised to see the extent of some of their injuries. Nevertheless, she had the medical bay prepped and ready to receive patients. When Quen reported that the Ra had docked and that the priority patients were being shipped up to Sickbay, MacKenzie was ready to roll. Surprisingly (or, perhaps not), the first patient to make his way into Sickbay was Mr. Greaves. MacKenzie watched as he hobbled through the doors on his badly mangled leg. Unaccompanied. MacKenzie folded her arms. Wes limped into the huge room of biobeds. A wave of nausea was immediately quelled by the stern look of the Thor’s Chief Medical Officer. MacKenzie: Lieutenant, where is Doctor Alieth? Greaves: ::With a cruel smile:: Ma’am, our favorite vulcan physician is currently located somewhere underground several thousand kilometers below us. There was a pause, and MacKenzie could feel her jaw begin to tighten. MacKenzie: ...She’s where? Wes eyed the nearest bed, his leg aching painfully. How he longed to be rid of the suit and given a fresh injection of some chemical [...]tail to make his troubles fade away. Despite that longing, the vindictive sense of revenge took precedence. Greaves: Ensign Alieth snuck off the shuttle and is now planet side with the away team. Her jaw tightened further. MacKenzie: ::muttering:: Why, that green-blooded son-of-a- … Greaves: I wholeheartedly echo that sentiment ma’am. Wes took a cautious step towards the nearest bed, only to have his bad leg nearly give out underneath him. Muttering curses under his breath, he dropped the helmet to his EV suit which had been slung under his arm. The metal of the helmet clanged as it bounced along the deck to finally slide to a rest at the foot of the bed. Dried blood could clearly be seen coating the back of the helmet. A small, yet evidently still unamused smile crept on MacKenzie’s face as she approached the man to help him up onto a biobed. Once he was situated, she grabbed a tricorder from a nearby instrument cart and returned to his side. MacKenzie: So, what happened?? Greaves: Well ma’am, it’s sort of a long story. Which part do you want to hear first? The part about the underground dragon, the part about an ancient medical procedure, or the part where Miss Alieth snuck away to go on adventures? MacKenzie: ...dragon. MacKenzie scanned the wound in his leg and gently pressed on some of the tissue. Wes gritted his teeth and snapped his eyes shut at the pain. Greaves: We were working our way through a complex of tunnels when one of the natives caused a cave in. MacKenzie: …a dragon caused a cave-in. Is this a joke? Greaves: Uh, no. Sorry Doc. I tend to try and make jokes when I’m uncomfortable. It was a sentient creature native to the planet. Some kind of tunneling species. One of them burrowed underneath us and caused a cave in. I fell along with Lieutenant Commander Pandorn. I must have lost consciousness because the next thing I remember is waking up with a few hundred pounds of rock on my legs. Commander Pandorn pulled me out from under the rocks, but it tore my suit and cut my leg really bad. My suit got flooded with the local atmo and radiation. Been coughing, bleeding, and feeling dizzy ever since. MacKenzie: You don’t say. MacKenzie looked at him skeptically, then held up the tricorder for him to see. MacKenzie: You’ve got a lot of tissue damage, a concussion, mild radiation poisoning and you’ve lost a lot of blood. Greaves: ::cracking a wry smile through pain:: See, I knew this was just another Tuesday. MacKenzie was not amused. MacKenzie: Let’s start with the radiation poisoning… She loaded a hypospray of Hyronalyn and pressed it against his neck. MacKenzie: The leg is going to take a little bit of work - I’m going to irrigate and disinfect the wound first, then use a protoplaser to repair the tissue. We’ll have one of the nurses stitch you up when I’m done. … let me know if the pain is too much. I know you’ve already been given some sedatives, and I don’t want to overload you. The soft hiss of the hypospray was reassuring. oO Sure beats needles Oo Wes thought to himself as his nausea subsided greatly. The relief from some of the unpleasantness registered on his face. Greaves: Ah, that’s the good st…. The Marine didn’t finish the thought as an unexpected wave of pain burst in his leg. MacKenzie had flushed the wound and removed a few small bits of debris, then started the work of repairing the leg. Wes gritted his teeth and looked down as the Doctor went to work. He was pretty sure the pain meds simply had worn off, but his pride resisted saying anything. Besides the pain was only terrible when she was actively poking and prodding the wound, which was only half the time. The other half of the time the pain was just miserable. MacKenzie: So, tell me about what they did to fix you up… She knew the answer already - the rudimentary stitches spoke volumes, but wanted to keep him talking and distracted. Wes opened his mouth to offer a reply but closed it again in a grimace as the Doctor began some of the tissue regeneration. After a second or two he was able to get used to the new sense of grating on his nerve endings. Greaves: ::slightly strained:: Honestly, I’m not exactly sure. One of the doctors down on the surface gave me a few shots. You know, all old school like. Needles and all. Then he grabbed a needle and some wire and stitched the wound closed. Past that, no idea what he did. It worked alright. Cleared my head, took away the pain ::trailing off:: Wes shuddered again and shifted his weight from one side of the bed to the other. To hell with it. He was going to ask. Greaves: All right Ma’am. You win. Can I have something for the pain? That, or grab a hatchet and take the whole damn leg quick. Addison’s brow furrowed as she started to look around Sickbay for a lost piece of equipment. MacKenzie: I seem to have left my hatchet at home… ::shrugging:: Lucky for you, I guess. Pain getting to you? Wes chuckled softly. The joke and the resulting laughter helped, even if not much. Greaves: Sorry. It can be tough to maintain a composure when someone is actively digging around in my insides. MacKenzie offered a soft smile as she loaded a hypospray with a dose of Rexlin that was just strong enough to offer relief, but not enough to knock him out. MacKenzie: You should begin to feel some relief now... Wes frowned. The medication immediately dulled some of the pain, but didn’t take it away altogether. Greaves: Good enough doc. The day really was getting to him and eating away at his usual professionalism. Maybe he was closer to his breaking point than he had thought. Typically picking a fight with a starship’s CMO was a bad idea. Doing so while one had medical instruments in and around a large open wound was just asking for it. Wes quickly attempted to change the topic and pointed at the wound in his thigh. A wound dangerously close to some of his more sensitive organs. Greaves: ::Pointing near his crotch:: How’s it looking down there doc? Is it going to leave a scar? I hear chicks dig scars. The pregnant silence that followed the comment pressed deeply against Wes’s already frayed psyche. He silently promised to himself he would just shut up going forward. There was simply no need to talk. Ever. Again. She locked eyes with him for what she was sure was an uncomfortable amount of time, then cleared her throat in a very deliberate manner. MacKenzie: I don’t think there’s any cause for concern. ...everything...looks alright, and I think any scarring will be minimal. MacKenzie finished the tissue repair and stood back to examine her work. Satisfied, she motioned for one of the nurses to come over and close the wound. Addison made it a point to occasionally observe the work of the doctors and nurses under her charge, and to note their strengths and weaknesses. As the nurse worked on the sutures, she continued to press Greaves. MacKenzie: And about the part where Doctor Alieth snuck off the shuttle… Greaves: Well Ma’am, I didn’t exactly see her depart. We had a brief. . . ::pause:: conversation about my ability to remain on mission. I boarded the shuttle, and when we closed up the ramp and left, Ensign Alieth was no longer on the shuttle with us. MacKenzie: A mistake? Greaves: I know the Ensign. She’s not one to make mistakes. She knew what she was doing. MacKenzie: ::flatly:: I have no doubt. What did you two discuss? Greaves: Well ma’am, like I said, it was a conversation about my fitness to remain on duty. MacKenzie: No doubt she ordered you back to the ship and you protested... Wes frowned again. The medication had begun to work as advertised, but he now felt a new sense of discomfort under the stern gaze of the intimidating redhead. The woman knew what had transpired on the surface. Now he was sure of it. Greaves: I see. Ensign Alieth must have had enough time to forward on some of her . . . recommendations to you. I assume to ensure that I followed them? MacKenzie: Well, you’re here, aren’t you? You’re going to keep your leg, so it sounds like we both did our jobs today. Greaves: I can’t argue with results ma’am. I’ll try to take it easy for the next few days. ::Smiling warmly:: Maybe I’ll keep PT down to only a half marathon. Addison picked up a PADD and made some notes to the officer’s file, then shook the device at him. MacKenzie: I’ll make sure I send this over to Major Parker with my recommendations, that way if anything happens, you’ll have us both to deal with. In the meantime, try to get some rest and I’ll send someone by to check on you in a little bit. [End] --- Lieutenant Commander Addison MacKenzie, M.D., Ph.D., FASFS Chief Medical Officer USS Thor V239601AM0 & 2nd Lieutenant Wes Greaves Marine Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 E239702WG0
  6. Very, very impressed with how well @Sirok handled this beautiful mission-ending sim! Plus the Interstellar soundtrack fits VERY well. -- OCC::I recommend read this post (and all the last ones) with this soundtrack: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lM5IxG1qhl0 _____________________________________________________ ((Main Engineering, USS Thor)) Sirok: =/\= Sirok to Captain Kells. Probe ready to launch on your mark. =/\= Kells: =/\= Proceed, Chief. =/\= Sirok: =/\= Do you need anything else, Captain? =/\= Kells: =/\= We appear to be about to beam up the last away team members and the colonists... but I want to stay in orbit of Vel Maijan for as long as you can give me. =/\= Sirok =/\= By your command. Sirok out. =/\= As soon as he received the order, he sent the probe towards the star. He tried to make it go at maximum speed, so he could send useful data before they had to leave. Kortho: These modifications will help us stay in orbit, look how already we are remaining more stable. It's small but I believe the effect is growing. Sirok: It is a good idea to increase our remaining time by 30% ::It may not seem much, but they were talking about a space-time anomaly affecting an entire solar system. :: Kortho: We can't beam up more than twelve at a time, with all this interference. Will there be enough time? Sirok: We have very little time to spare.If they don't beam up soon, we'll have to leave them behind or travel where and when the anomaly takes us. ::The computer data was clear, they had just over 15 minutes before they reached the point of no return. Yang's modifications were very effective, but that event exceeded every scale known to date.:: Kortho: We can take the power from replicator systems and science labs. Sirok: I already did it. ::He preferred not to have sacrificed ship functionality, but Kells' orders and intent seemed clear, they would not leave without the away team and human settlers, so in energy-saving plan Sirok had been quite aggressive.:: I only left power to one of our replicators, in case we need any parts, and to those in the infirmary. I am going to draw power from life support. ::It was something he had planned, but he could only do it in the last minutes before the event. There would be air left in the rooms, and the residual heat would have to be stirred until they left or were dragged away. At least in that second case they would have plenty of energy to redirect from the warp drive, as they would not need it to escape.:: Consoles began to display the batteries' energy of the batteries as they beamed up the people from the planet. In spite of the pattern enhancers the consumption of each trip was humongous, since they had to make them pass through an enormous amount of rock, plus the interference of the anomaly and the atmosphere interacting with the gases of the nebula captured by the planet. The Vulcan's calculations had been accurate for the drain they were having. Sirok had reserved the amount of power based on the number of colonists he was told, plus the five members of Commander Teller's away team. According to the latest reports, they had gained a slight margin because the away team had been reduced to three, the others would go up on the Ra. And at least one casualty on the part of the colonists. If they didn't use it to transport anyone else they would get a few more seconds of stay and a little more time to make the transports safely. Sirok: =/\=Sirok to Captain Kells, 10 minutes to point of no return, 168 people remaining in the planet.=/\= Sirok had turned off the holographic table, but maintained a traditional two-dimensional view that still displayed graphically the ship and her surroundings. Despite Thor's efforts to stay in her space-time, it became increasingly apparent that the surrounding space was being drawn to the anomaly. Ion discharges between the atmosphere and the nebula resulted in huge rays that illuminated the outside of the starship despite its distance. The gas cloud that formed the nebula showed changes in direction that were not what they should be according to normal natural forces, creating denser shreds in which greater ion storms built up. Sirok: =/\=Sirok to Captain Kells, 8 minutes to point of no return, 128 people remaining in the planet.=/\= The Thor's shield became increasingly visible, as if it were holding a continuous fire from an external enemy. Small wear cracks appeared on the shielding plates closest to the bussard collectors, which would have been the result of the ship being active and not being changed or repaired for decades. The deflector dish glowed with increased intensity, due to the energy used to generate the anti-chroniton particles. Sirok: =/\=Sirok to Captain Kells, 6 minutes to point of no return, 89 people remaining in the planet.=/\= In engineering, activity boiled, systems were pushed to the limit and different crew members were sent out to try to mitigate the effects caused by trying to keep the ship in one piece. Without being the most pressing matter, Sirok couldn't avoid to look at the state of the probe that had been sent towards the star was getting closer and closer to what, according to his theory, should be the origin of the singularity. Sirok: =/\=Sirok to Captain Kells, 4 minutes, 49 people remaining in the planet.=/\= Despite being pushed to their upper limitations, the inertial stabilizers couldn't compensate everything that was happening outside. A growing vibration began to be felt throughout the bowels of the ship. Outside the hull, several bolts cracked quite close, yet failed to impact due of the anti-anomaly. In case they had doing so, they probably won't destroy the Thor, but the starship would have been heavily damaged. Sirok: =/\=Sirok to Captain Kells, 2 minutes, only the away team and 7 colonists remain on the planet. The probe has reached its destination, collecting data. =/\= Soon every human colonists and the away team should be transported and the ship could leave. But Thor kept showing more and more how hard she was trying to accomplish the mission. From the outside the shields were glowed brightly, as they worked at maximum, so much that the ship's silhouette could hardly be seen. Some plates near the bussard collectors had been shattered and then reassembled, but they were not attached to the hull anymore. The vibration increased and anything not properly attached to walls or floor began to fell. The usually gentle humming of the warp drive, omnipresent in every working starship, evolved into a more high-pitched shriek, which become a little disturbing to crew members with a more acute hearing. Sirok tried to keep his eye on everything that was going on, so that the ship wouldn't disintegrate, but he still couldn't help but look at the data coming from the probe. For the vulcan, the information coming from the little autonomous craft was the most important thing at the moment. He understood the importance of saving lives, and of rescuing the away team. Nevertheless, if they were able to get out of there, the most important scientist event recorded to date was happening just at the other side of the hull, and they could gather some data of the largest space-time anomaly known, one that, to this moment, was barely a mystery. As they were trapped by that very same anomaly, they need to know what was causing it. The first useful piece of information was a slight increase in the chroniton particles density. During the whole trip it seemed that their concentration only decreased around the Thor, yet it was remained a constant in the rest of the system, embracing it. Sirok tried to adjust the probe so that the particle augmentation wouldn't disturb the probe, hence it was able to find its source. Just at that moment, something else arrived at his display, as the probe detected an exotic object, perfectly spherical, but it was almost impossible to have information about its size or composition. Sirok: =/\= Sirok to Captain Kells everyone onboard, 1 minute to the point of no return.=/\= Just before it stopped transmitting data, the probe managed to send a single image. It was a sphere 500 km in diameter, with no single irregularities on a surface of fully polished metal that reflected the surrounding space. The probe did not provide any information about its energy source or the composition of the metal shell, except that it partly reflected the sensor beams as well as it did with light. Sirok raised an eyebrow as he read all this. Sirok: Curious... ((End of Scene for Sirok)) ==================== Ensign Sirok Acting Chief Engineering Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 Fleet Captain A. Kells, Commanding E239702S10
  7. ((OOC: A splendid tale of piracy on the high space seas courtesy of @Wil Ukinix & the Veritas!)) ((Bridge, SS Somershire)) Tygin: ::smiling her wicked smile:: Octotriticale...::holding up two fingers:: 400,000 tonnes of it...plus enough equipment to start our own farming colony. Marths: They’re carrying *what*? Tygin: ::raising a brow:: ...grain...::placing her hands on her hips:: it makes the flour you fry your chicken in. ::taking a breath:: it's 3 bars a ton. A rare open mouthed smile slowly presented itself on the poultry-fanatic’s face, before he chuckled. “Octotriticale” was the cutting edge successor to Quintotriticale. Long transportation times in the Shoals along with a lack of suppliers made it a highly valuable commodity. Marths: ::Pointing at Elliot:: Finish what you’re doing! ::Looking back at Peregrine, smiling:: No wonder Captain Vodka was protecting it so well. Fill up as much of our storage areas on the ship as you can. As quick as you can! Beam it, carry it, I don’t care, just get it done. He walked over to Bonus, and then firmly patted him on the shoulder. Marths: My sources weren’t kidding when they said “juicy cargo”. Tygin: ::Rubbing her hands together:: Juicy! Cap'n if Chek can give us our standard rate, you could retire. Marths: oO You are part of my retirement plans, buttercup... you just don't know it yet Oo Manstead: :: sarcastic. :: Yippee. Tygin:::Hooking a thumb over her shoulder:: I say we strip this sucker down to the plasma coils, make for Eagle station and live like Kings for a month or seven. Marths: I’m not sure about retirement just yet, but… this will go a long way. ::To Peregrine:: Strip whatever will fit into the Wildfire, if we have room. Manstead: You only have so much cargo space on the ship, captain. Marths: ::Wicked smile:: Then we’ll put whatever we can into engineering. Tygin:::offering a mock salute:: Aye Cap'n, number 32 with Chintapa Sauce, coming up. Manstead: Don’t even think about it, Pear. Tygin:::smirking:: Relax bubble boy, I'm not gonna hurt anyone, much, just throw a few people into some life pods. ::smiling:: ill intimate where I can and only bruise who I have to. Marths: Hey! ::Walking closer to Tygin:: This haul is going to attract attention as it is. *Don’t kill anyone*. Tygin:::growling:: Cap'n, come on let an artist work, you would tell a rainbow to stop being a rainbow or tell a tiger to color in their strips, ::spinning:: such is the Erinyes! Marths: ::Pointing at Peregrine:: You are as beautiful as your deadly, but don’t think that will stop me beaming you out into space! Manstead: Oh shut up... The Marth, without taking his eye of Peregrine, smacked Elliot perfectly on the back of his head. Tygin:::crossing her arms:: Don't be a punch of party poopers, come on Cap'n this is what we do, we are Pirates. Marths: “Pirates”? Don’t use that word! We’re “brokers”. With an anarchic supply chain methodology. *That do not kill unless absolutely necessary*. If any of the crew tells me that you critically injure or kill someone? Well, you’d better hold your breath when the transporter cycle starts, buttercup. And he meant it. Peregrine already had a black mark next to her name. Beautiful or not, and as infatuated with Tygin as he was, he only had one *real* true love – his ship. She came first. Tygin:::sulking:: No, I want my share of the loot...::clenching her fists:: Fine...I'll be nice ::holding a finger up:: but if one of them back talks me... Marths: …then slap them in the face. ::grinning:: Works for me. Manstead: Just do what he says. Tygin: ::mock saluting:: Aye, Cap'n! I'll go see to our guests and make them feel all warm'n'safe. ((Galley, Deck 4, SS Wildfire – three hours later)) The fully loaded SS Wildfire was stationary in a harmless, partially obscuring spatial anomaly, and thanks to The Marth’s special CCMS “friend” (in a latinum in a brown paper bag kind of way), no-one would be looking for them anywhere near their location for at least 10 hours. It gave them time to repair damage to the ship made by the new cloak. It also gave them time to celebrate… While tying up the knot on the bandana that The Marth wore on his head (with very small cartoon like chickens imprinted on it), he walked into the packed Galley. Most of the crew were assembled, talking loudly, eating (crumbed chicken pieces) and drinking from bottles of rum pilfered from the Swishbuckle. Chef Donovan was madly handing out plates of finger food (chicken Cordon Bleu bites) to several crew, who were distributing them to tables. There was a raucous, happy atmosphere that could be cut with a phaser. The Marth stood up on one of the tables, to the cheers of the crew that were sitting at it. He picked up a piece of food (chicken puff) from a plate below him. Taking an exaggerated bite, he then kept walking, moving from table to table until he was standing on a table in the centre of the Galley. Having quickly *demolished* the chicken puff, he clapped his hands together, then placed his curved palms together over his mouth, speaking through his makeshift megaphone. Marths: Crewmates! Crewmates! … ::Loud whistle using teeth:: Tygin/Manstead: Responses The noise in the room died down to a silence. Marths: Crewmates…. We are the misfits from the ::finger quotes:: “society” that forgot about us, judged us, exiled us, enslaved us. But today, we’ve proven… THAT THEY SHOULD UNDERSTIMATE US AT THEIR OWN PERIL! The sound of a loud cheer with the thumping of tables filled the room, before The Marths lifted his palms to quiet everyone down. Marths: Some of you are new, and, you know, some of you have been with me since the start. It’s amazing to think it’s been eleven years since I got my hands on this ship. We’ve had triumphs, and troubles. Today has been a busy day. But after our two raids, not only are our storage areas *completely* full… on both decks... our estimates indicate that, this is has been… ::inhales:: THE MOST VALUABLE HAUL IN THE HISTORY OF THIS SHIP!!! RECORD PAYMENT TO EVERYONE!!! The cheers and table banging noises of the crew became ear splitting. Tygin/Manstead: Responses He held up his palms again, to quieten the crew. Marths: However, ::walking over two tables while speaking:: it’s not been without incident. ::Standing on table in front of Tygin:: Everyone knows the rules on this ship. If you have a problem with someone, report it to The Marth, and then between the parties, to resolve the dispute… we organise a fight in this room during supper. So that everyone can watch and bet on the winner. There was a short, loud cheer once again from the crew. For many, watching and gambling on the crew fights were the most enjoyable activity on the ship. Marths: But… unfortunately… ::crouching down, eying Tygin, while crew begins to jeer:: someone took matters into their own hands today. The jeering from the crew turned into a combination of boos, high pitched whistles, thrown chicken bones and several thousand curse words, all directed at Peregrine. Manstead: Response Tygin: Response Marths: ::Ignoring Peregrine:: What Buttercup must understand is that non-compliance with the rules cannot go unpunished. ::turning to next table:: Zaphoid? The young crewmate who had been stabbed in the hand by Peregrine made his way over to the table that Marths was perched on. In one swift move, The Marth unsheathed the small but very sharp cutlass that he always had stowed in his right wrist band. He threw it up in the air, allowing Zaphoid to catch it by the handle when it fell back to the ground. The crew around Peregrine forcefully held Tygin in place, making sure her arm and hand couldn’t move. Tygin: Response In one quick movement, Zaphoid thrust the cutlass into the top of Peregrine’s hand, which caused the loudest cheer of the night yet from the crew. Zaphoid: ::To Tygin:: Now we’re even, ya bloody mongrel. Tygin/Manstead: Responses The people that were holding Tygin down all enthusiastically patted her on her shoulders – signalling that she had paid her debt and she was “forgiven”, and to thank her for an entertaining spectacle. Marths: Baby. Transport Tygin to the First Aid room. Tygin/Manstead: Responses “Buttercup” vanished from the Galley in a swirl of sparkles. Marths then looked at Zaphoid, and punched him as hard as he could on the jaw, sending him to the ground. There was another loud enthusiastic cheer from the rest of the crew. While flexing his hand open and shut, Marths stood back up on the table and addressed the room. Marths: ::Holding out palms:: Wildfire! Let’s eat and drink into the small hours! We’ve earned it! A crewmate in the corner of the Galley began to sing loudly. Crewmate: ::Singing:: In-Sha-dow’s-Edge I-was-born… Marths began stamping his foot on his table in time with the tune. It wasn’t long before most of the crew enthusiastically joined in, banging their drinks and fists on their tables, and singing a shanty that was brought to the Shoals and adapted by some of its early Terran settlers. Marths/Crew: Heave a-way, haul a-way! Crewmate: In-Sha-dow’s-Edge, a-round An-tor! Marths/Crew: And-we're bound for Sha-dow’s Eeee-edge... Crewmate/Marths/Crew: Haul a-way your roll-ing king, heave a-way, haul a-way, HAUL A-WAY, YOU'LL HEAR-ME-SING! And we’re-bound for Sha-dow’s Eeee-edge… The singing continued as The Marths bent down to retrieve a bottle of rum that was next to his feet. He took a big swig from it, before smacking his lips together. There was nothing like “free” rum. Especially from Bonnie and Clyde. ________________________________________________________ Henley “The Marth” Marths Captain and Rum Thief SS Wildfire V239511WU0
  8. @Quen Deena has a special ability to write very subtle yet emotionally realistic characters. The impact of discovery and the insight of a community leader concerned about the ramifications of what she has just discovered is perfectly reflected in this SIM and it is clear that there is much more going on inside Flynn's mind than what she says or what is written. A character development worthy of reading, emotional and frankly well composed. Congratulations Quen! __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ((Transmitter Room, Vel Maijan Subterra)) A new voice broke through the interference. Brodie: =/\= Commander…it’s Brodie. You mentioned new friends…how is the situation at the colony? Are you able to confirm they sent the signal? =/\= Teller: =/\= In a manner of speaking, Counselor. Apparently the distress signal was originally sent by the leader of the original colony....approximately seventy years ago. That mans granddaughter & current head of the colony apparently got it restarted a few weeks ago when the seismic disturbances returned. =/\= Brodie: =/\= Do we know how many colonists we’re looking at? =/\= Ellen listened, a disinterested expression on her face despite her interest in who exactly this new person was. Teller: =/\= Wait one, we haven't had the chance to conduct a census and our tricorders are nearly useless down here. =/\= Teller nodded in her direction. Ellen knew the number off the top of her head - saw it every day, updated it with every birth, every death... Flynn: =/\= One hundred ninety-three. =/\= Kells: =/\= Almost two hundred? We can accommodate them easily. =/\= Flynn: oO Accomodate? What the hell? Oo Teller: =/\= We'll get that equipment setup as soon as we get it, sir. =/\= Kells: =/\= Good. On the double, Commander. I'll see you soon. Thor, out. =/\= The room hung with an eerie silence once the comm clicked off. Ellen watched Teller lean back from the console, taking his sweet time about it, too. Answers were needed, and answers she was going to get. He considered something for a moment, her eyes burning virtual holes in the back of his head, and then spoke. Teller: Ms. Flynn, is there a place we can speak privately? Flynn: My office - right down the corridor, second door on the left. Teller: Very well, I'll join you in a moment. She nodded tersely as the commander began assigning his team to various tasks. On her way out the room, she paused next to Armiger, lurking near the edge. Flynn: Keep an eye on them - I think they’ll need it. Armiger: Response _________ ((Flynn’s Office)) After Starfleet’s reaction to the colony, she was curious to see Teller’s reaction to her office. It was a tight space, sparsely furnished like the rest of the colony. The desk (partially supported by the wall) was clear except for a couple of partially-functioning computer pads, with just enough space in front of it for a visitors’ chair and a sliding door - which she’d currently left open. There was just enough room between the desk and the opposite wall to walk behind to her own seat. Against the back wall hung a few shelves of record books and a smooth, roughly rectangular piece of slate with the number ‘193’ written in chalk and circled. Ellen gestured to the door as Teller entered. He seated himself opposite her once he’d closed it. Teller: Thank you, Ms. Flynn. You helped us get back in touch with our ship, and I owe you an explanation but before I start - I have one very important question for you. It may sound absurd but, please, humor me. Flynn: ::dryly:: I’ll try. Teller: Ellen....what year is it? Ellen stared for a moment, blinking. Had he really just asked her that? Flynn: What year is it? 2234. Teller blinked. Teller: Ellen...this is going to be difficult to hear, but it's the truth. The current calendar year is 2397. I understand that, from your perspective, this colony has only experienced about seventy years of linear time since your grandfather sent that distress call. In actuality, that was nearly two hundred years ago. According to the history books, this colony - in fact, this entire world, vanished without a trace in 2164. Twenty-three ninety-seven. The pieces were falling into place now. No wonder they’d arrived with more tech than a small starship…. And all their talk about ‘temporal’ this and ‘chronitons’ that. She could have kicked herself - she should have guessed it earlier! Temporal/time… Chronitions/chron/time… It was right there, staring her in the face, and she never in her wildest dreams would have guessed. Twenty-three ninety-seven. Two hundred and thirty some-odd years. How could that even be possible? Something straight out of Wells, that was it… Flynn: oO Holy hell, you can’t make this stuff up… Oo I see. She kept her response plain, her face carefully neutral. Teller continued: Teller: Unfortunately, there's more. The quakes your grandfather experienced, and the ones that began again here a few weeks ago, appear to be a sign that this world is about to vanish again. I won't lie to you - we don't fully understand this phenomena, and we're in no position to try to stop it. We need to get you and your people off this planet and out of this system as soon as possible. Leave?! Some hab domes, maybe a little terraforming equipment, an answer to what in the hell that reptile thing was wreaking havoc down in the tunnels. That’s what they’d been looking for from the Federation. A status update and a bit on ongoing support. Instead… this. Flynn: So not only are we a hundred and sixty-something years ahead of where we should be, now we have to leave our home? Teller: I doubt this is the kind of help you hoped for when you sent that distress call, but I can promise you that you'd be more than welcome into the Federation - your people could be resettled entirely on some new world and left to their own devices, or you could go back to Earth - see how we've managed over the last few centuries. I think you'd be pretty happy with what you found there. Ellen sat back. It was a hell of a proposition, either way. Leaving the planet was… not exactly what she’d had in mind. Not even a possibility she’d considered. Flynn: ::quietly:: Doesn’t seem like there’s much of an option… ::normal:: You know - when we left the Federation, it was just a loose collection of planets that could barely agree on what to call themselves… It would be nice to return to our original purpose- As the two discussed the future of the colony, heavy footsteps thundered against the metal flooring outside. Barely a second after they stopped, a sharp knock rattled the door. Ellen held up a hand to pause the conversation and called them inside. Juan and Constable Murphy still had most of their EV suits on - and from the panting and beads of sweat, Ellen guessed they had just sprinted back from wherever it was they found the pile of junk carried between them. Pieces of what appeared to be some kind of tubing snapped like crackers, the exposed internal circuitry giving off weak, blue-white sparks. Others were melted and fused together. EC-31 at work here, too… It had to be. Nothing else she knew could have destroyed something on this level. Teller’s eyes widened, a mix of disbelief and dismay. He studied the wreckage for a moment, before picking up a dark box that was largely untouched, save a few scratches and dents. Evidently, it had no appeal to the creatures. Teller tapped his badge, and spoke. Teller: =/\= Teller to Kells - Sir, we've got a new problem. =/\= While Teller conferred with his ship, Ellen turned to the two men. She'd sent three people. There were two in front of her now... Flynn: Leni? The constable shook his head. Ellen pulled her lips between her teeth, focused on a scratch on the desk, and gave a heavy nod. She picked up a nub of chalk, and turned to the count board. She pulled her sleeve halfway up her palm, rubbed out the ‘3’, and replaced it with a ‘2’. If anything could make her decision for her… Flynn: I’ll speak to her family later. Thank you, gentlemen. Get yourselves sorted - we may be needing you again later. As the two men left the cramped space, Teller had finished communicating with the ship and closed the channel. Flynn: So? Teller: Response Well, that wasn’t good. Flynn: I see. And let me guess, ::gesturing to the pile of debris:: that was your only way out of here? Teller: Response Ellen’s eyes widened - that was definitely not good... Flynn: As in - to the surface? Everyone? Teller: Response Another unthought-of scenario ran through Ellen’s mind. Getting everyone to the surface - everyone - would be literally impossible, given the colony’s current supply levels. Twenty suits, that’s all they had. Well, nineteen now... Flynn: I’m going to be frank with you, Mister Teller. We don’t have enough suits for that. And I’ll be damned if we’re leaving anyone behind. Teller: Response Tag/TBC __________ Ellen Flynn Colony Leader Vel Maijan Subterra E239602QD0
  9. There are many times that I love small snippets of SIMs so deeply that they could be a reason to throw the whole post to the appreciation forum, but as I would basically spam that place every time any of you sends an email, I will open a thread just to include those great moments that can be read in the Thor. To initiate it, I would like to highlight this moment from @Alex Brodie I don't know why, the scene play in my head as the perfect comic moment, without the need to say anything and I chuckle every time I read it. Good job, Brodie! What other moments have you enjoyed? Share them with everybody else!
  10. ((IKS Vr'Chok. Negh'Var-class Attack Cruiser.)) ((Location Unknown.)) ((One month ago.)) Plasma spewed from the stricken ship as blood flowed from a severed artery, the vessel slowly turning end over end as it drifted lazily. A few thousand kilometres distant, the secure transport it had been escorting was also drifting, having lost power from a well-placed battery of shots. He clasped his hands behind his back as he glared at the dying ship before them, before turning at pointing a deadly finger at the comms officer. Vrerik: Hail them. Comms: Yes, sir. A few moments later, the viewscreen changed to show a Starfleet bridge at Red Alert, sparks flew and smoke hung thickly in the air as a human woman stiffened to attention. Vrerik: I am Sub-Lieutenant Vrerik of the Romulan Imperial Navy. And I have some questions for you. ::His tone was calm, almost casual. As if he was making a call to an old friend.:: Firstly, may I ask to whom I am speaking? Roth: Lieutenant-Commander Inge Roth. Vrerik nodded politely, yet his smile was more predatory than friendly. Vrerik: And in what capacity do you serve, Commander Roth? I see you are wearing teal. You are a doctor I presume? Roth: I am. ::She nodded.:: I am both first officer and chief medical officer aboard this vessel. Vrerik: Where is your captain? Roth stood aside slightly, allowing the viewscreen to show a lifeless body slumped beside the command chair. Vrerik: Chief doctor, first officer, and now acting-captain. ::He clapped slowly, just short of being mocking.:: You have quite a collection of feathers in your cap, Commander. Very well. I shall ask you my important questions instead, as your captain does not appear to be in a conversational mood. His dark eyes twinkled with enjoyment as the woman on screen bristled slightly. Roth: What do you want? Vrerik: Want? ::He held a hand to his chest in a human gesture of hurt surprise.:: What do I want? He stepped closer to the viewscreen, his eyes narrowing and his lips curling slightly. Vrerik: I want Commodore Allan Kinney. That is what I want. You were escorting him aboard that transport, he is no longer aboard, and I want you to tell me where he is. Give him to me. Roth: Kinney? Never heard of him. We were just told to escort that ship. Vrerik: Do not play games with me, Commander. It will not end well for you or your crew. I have killed far more, for far less than what you can give to me. The officer on the screen took a step back, even as her eyes widened almost imperceptibly. She held her hands out, as if asking for mercy. Roth: We are no threat to you, and we have many wounded aboard. I do not know the name Kinney. We were told nothing about the passengers aboard that transport. Vrerik turned away from the screen for a moment, to the chief weapons officer. Vrerik: The boarding party has returned, yes? CWO: Yes, sir. The man Kinney is not aboard. Only thirty Starfleet crew and sixty-four prisoners. Vrerik: Then we have no further use for it. He gave a sharp nod to the chief weapons officer, and seconds later the Vr'Chok unleashed everything it had onto the comparatively tiny transport. The transport was wiped from existence, leaving behind almost nothing to indicate it had ever been there. Vrerik: I am sorry you could not be of assistance, Dr Roth. He gave another sharp nod to the chief weapons officer. Roth: Oh, sh- ::Panic set in as she scrambled to hit the nearest comms panel.:: =/\= Mayday! Mayday! This is the USS Bastille to anybody that can hear me! Mayd- =/\= The cry for help was shortlived as the small cruiser was blasted apart by the Vr'Chok once more unleashing its full armament of weapons. Closing his eyes and letting out a breath, he smiled to himself as an angry growl and the creaking of leather drifted towards him. General: You fool. Now we shall learn nothing from them! Vrerik whipped around like a viper ready to strike, and indeed he could have for he was already stood a hands width away from the General's face with a cold and murderous fire in his eyes. It was enough to even give the General a moments pause. Vrerik: Oh, but we have. We have learned everything we need to know from them. General: And what is it that we have learned? Vrerik: This was nothing more than a ruse. Commodore Kinney is still aboard Starbase 118, along with its meddlesome crew. He stepped back suddenly, clapping his hands together sharply and emitting a short maniac bark of a laugh. He turned away, heading for the General's chambers. Vrerik: Come, General Krala! The Circle will want to hear what we have to say. ~fin~ Sub-Lieutenant Vrerik. Romulan Imperial Navy Officer. Simmed by; Lt.Cdr. Arturo Maxwell. Chief Tactical Officer. Starbase 118 Operations. O239311AM0.
  11. ((OOC: I really enjoyed the XO's impassioned plea to Lt. Waters, as she continues her transformative journey. Kudos to both of you for a moving interaction. Simple, but effective.)) ((IC)) ((Deck 1, Bridge, USS Eagle)) Waters: The Juneau is, by all appearances, larger, and superior to the Eagle. As Shayne settled into his seat, admiring the ridged contours it featured, he beheld his new home on the viewscreen. From here, she was even more imposing; enormous in comparison to their beloved garden spade, angular and slick and bristling dangerously. Shayne: She’s a beast. He spoke low, admiring her from a distance. She’d have to be tamed, and her kinks worked out, before she could safely be operated. He hadn’t the luxury of showing fear aboard her, but from this distance, he could respect her properly. Dear god, what had he gotten himself into? Waters: She is not the Eagle. I may sit at this station still, but it will not be... this. It is only recently I have begun to realize... this is my home. Now we are... I am, leaving her. Opportunities of many varieties have been squandered. This time... cannot be regained, and I am uncertain how to say goodbye to a home I only realized I lived in recently. Shayne leaned forward, fire in his eyes. Shayne: Hold that realization close! Don’t let it go. Let the pain brand you. Understand what you’ve missed, and realize how you can keep from doing it again. Waters: Response He stood, now impassioned but speaking quietly. Shayne: The crew makes the ship- and most of the crew is moving with you! New home or not, new world or not, you’ve got the chance to make this right. Claim it! I know you can. You have come so far! The words were infused with pride and a frustration Shayne did not mean to include but couldn’t avoid. Waters: Response Tag/TBC… Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne First Officer USS Juneau NX- 99801 G239202RS0
  12. ((OOC: The first of two incredible JP's establishing an antagonist for the Thor's current mission, The Lost Colony. Fantastic alien characterization and perspective work @Alex Brodie & @Alieth!)) ((Underground Caverns, Vel Maijan)) They moved through the tunnel of the serrated stalagmites. It was a narrow passage they rarely followed, their resources long ago exhausted. But there was something new, something strange there. The youngest of them halted at the front, rested on his forelegs, and tested the air with the tip of his long tongue. He let the essence pass through the specialized organs inside his mouth during the time it took for the water to drip from the distant roof three times. Then, and only then, did he emit a series of high-pitched clicks that expressed his excitement They were on the right track, what they were looking for was in front of them. The larger of the two followed behind, their ponderous movements slow and deliberate in comparison to their companions more excitable energy. The plates of mineralized skin flexed as they shifted through the network of tunnels that spanned the subsurface. Shifting through the narrow gaps between the rock formations. Moving into the larger cavern to join their young cohort they were able to stand and stretch - their frame unfurling as they tested the air - familiar, stale. It was unmistakable though, there was something new in the atmosphere. Something rich and powerful...something they hadn’t tasted before. It had been many cycles since the Scourge had befallen them - though after all this time there was little point in concerning themselves with the past. The present crisis was the priority for the colony. He emanated a series of clicks as he dragged a claw across the exposed rock-face, scaring the surface and sampling the dust that remained. It wasn’t the most nourishing but would provide some sustenance in the short term. A second clawed swipe dislodged a larger clast, and he broke it in two, passing one to the youngling. He gnawed at the stone delicately, paused the gesture for a brief moment, and then resumed it shortly, his movements less enthusiastic than they had initially been. A questioning murmur rumbled deep in his throat. A question. And a complaint. The older Azcou looked at the younger and understood the reaction - but it was all they had. The smaller one leaned his head to the side and clicked his jaws briefly. The tunnel in front of them sang in reply, its nooks and crannies repeating the older's rhyme. And there, almost at the edge of the echo, was the oddity. The novelty. The slender creature wriggled a few strides forward, his slender limbs carrying him swiftly and efficiently in the direction of their objective. However, soon he halted, bristling with the thin mineral deposits that covered his body. The older creature came close behind the younger one, sniffed the air...yes...he could smell it too. It wouldn’t be far now… The two creatures continued down the dark path - their scales hardening and changing for what was to come. They knew the unknown was a risk...and they also knew there was little alternative. They must have travelled miles - not that it mattered. The larger Azcou took another sample from the wall and lashed it with his tongue. The marked area began to effervesce and the material began to turn to an amorphous gel. He clicked and hissed as he saw the look on his fellows face. Orh’am: Are you going to feed a young baby, Cth'am? ::The younger one's clicks rang out cheeky, but with the playfulness that comes with acquaintance.:: Cth’am: I’m not as young as I once was…neither are my teeth. Orh'am produced a low, rumbling sound in the lower part of his ribcage, and pursed his lips gently, revealing the sharp set of needle-like teeth that embellished his jaws. Orh’am: You still have many cycles left in you, my old friend. The colony needs you. The younger one's gurgling had sounded reassuring, but as soon as the silence thickened among them once more, it grew increasingly serious. That was not an expedition for leisure, but rather for need. Cth’am: How far do you think to the source? The smaller one turned his head forward, and repeated the sound again, showing the intricate skein of corridors in front of them. The reverberations built up the complex image in the frontal part of his brain, as clear as if he were seeing them. He knew that Orh'am saw the same thing as him, his echolocation senses as sharp as his own and attuned to the same frequencies. Orh’am: Half a cycle if we follow the tunnels. ::He tilted his head and pursed his lips again::. About a quarter of that time if we open a new one. The larger Azcou turned his attention to the cave wall...it would take some effort but it would still be faster. Cth’am: Then we dig. Orh'am said naught and just wagged his long tail swiftly. The whistle it produced expressed his acquiescence to the plan. Cth’am unfurled his large frame, his tail extending out behind him as he bent forwards to face the cavern wall. He pulled back and brought a driving slash down across the rack face - the stone splintering and shattering under the blow. The younger Azcou lingered behind, sat on his hind legs while he monitored the progress of his more robust and muscle-bound comrade. Once Cht'am had worn himself out, he would take over, progressing quickly through the stone outcropping that stood in their path. There was no time to spare. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Written By Ensign Alieth (Orh’am) Medical Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 Writer ID: E239702A10 & Lt. Cmdr. Alexander Brodie (Cth’am) Chief Counselor USS Thor NCC-82607 Writer ID.: A239005BM0
  13. ((OOC: A fantastic JP establishing one of the MSNPC 'factions' the Thor is going to encounter during their current mission, The Lost Colony. My sincerest compliments to @Ben Garcia & @Quen Deena)) (( Structural technician team delta completing authorised duties near Vel Maijan Subterra Development Zone )) Air hissed, and the aerosol splattered the wall with blue specks. The hiss expired, the can rattled and out shot a thick, crisp stream of blue. The circle was sprayed first. Imperfect, but functional. A stroke left and then a stroke right. That filled the circle with a cross. It had been marked for further measurements. She stood back a moment, checking her tag. The cross was tight and streak free. The circle disappointed her, like always. Her supervisor called out. She glanced over, held up her free hand and stumbled on the workbag. That’s when the canister fell and rolled. She was always diligent. She always took it slow and followed the protocol. They’d done a good job though. They’d worked hard. It was break, and the sup’s joke had made them all laugh. Later, when she’d unravel the bandages and pull back the gauze, she’d guess the laugh had made them all careless. She lent down, like anyone might, and grabbed the canister. The pain wouldn’t hit her for a few seconds, for there was still her gloves to peel into. It was panic that made her scream. The panic of seeing the canister choke and smoulder as she held it in her hand. She threw it back down - there was not much else she could do now. The second scream was pain. She passed out before the third. (( CD’s office, primary medical unit, Vel Maijan Subterra. )) Rick bit his stylus as he read the report back. Attending: Rick Armiger, Chief Doctor. Patient: Kassy McBill, Senior Structural Technician Summary: Patient came into contact with biological substance echo-charlie-thirty-one during authorised duties. Rick tapped the end of his stylus on the desk as he gulped a mouthful of water. Signs of activity this close to Vel Maijan Subterra was worrying. Rick continued to proof read his report: Contact resulted in the destruction of the patient’s right thumb, index finger and middle finger. In line with current medical protocol the right hand was amputated to control substance echo-charlie-thirty-one and prevent contagion. Samples have been collected from the contaminated appendage prior to its transport to the disposal site in line with protocols for managing contact with substance echo-charlie-thirty- .… A knock at the door flicked Rick’s eyes up from the screen. Outside, Ellen pulled the door open just enough to poke her head in. Flynn: Now a good time? Rick pushed his chair back and smiled. It was good to see a friendly face. Armiger: Grab a seat. Ellen shifted a heavy box labelled ‘EC-31’ to the floor and sat herself in the newly-vacated chair. Flynn: How’s Kass? Armiger: Sedated. (Rick raised his eyebrows.) One conversation I’m happy to put off. Ellen pressed her palms against her knees, breathing a gasp of equal tension and relief. Finally, a survivor.. Flynn: Alive… (beat) I don’t envy you. She won’t take it well. Armiger: No. (Rick rolled the stylus along the table.) No she won’t. (Rick took a breath and looked at Ellen.) She’ll adapt. She’ll pull through. She has to. Flynn: I’d like to talk to her when she wakes up. Maybe she saw something that can give us a clue... Armiger: Of course. (Rick spoke with compassion.) Let’s give her another hour or two before … (Rick paused.) … before we turn her world upside down, eh? Ellen tucked a lock of ginger hair behind her ear. She leaned forward in her chair until her elbows met her knees, forehead pressed against her palms as she stared at the floor. She was tired. Tired of fighting something they could not detect, could not see until it was too late - something that took life and limb faster than anything they’d ever seen before. Flynn: Six fatalities in twelve weeks… (She sat back up after a moment with a heavy breath.) I’m putting the project on hold. Elbows on the table, Rick cupped his forehead between his hands. He squoze at the temples. There was no relief. It did not come. Pausing the project would stoke discontent and fan the flames of fear. The project had been a unifying force for the colony. It was something to be hopeful about. Rob them of that and … Rick took a breath and rubbed his forehead. He sat back now, one hand over the armrest while the other ran through his choppy black hair. Rick rested the hand on the crown of his head as he looked at Ellen huddled on her chair, and then out past her at Kass through the observation window. Pausing the project bought them time. Maybe Ellen could distract them by upping preparatory work and manufacturing. She’d pulled off such sleight of hand before; she was a shrewd leader and that might buy her enough leeway to weather out this storm - for all of them to get through it. Armiger: There’ll be some resistance, Ellen. The project. (Rick paused.) It means a lot. Flynn: I know. There’s no right answer here, Doc. We’ve managed so far, we’ll be fine without the expansion for a while. Have to tighten up the rationing - break up more fights… Ellen stared at a chunk of quartz embedded in the rock wall behind Rick. What had been a population of eighty when their grandfathers first went underground now numbered nearly two hundred. Just enough to start outgrowing the cavern they’d originally settled in. Over the past year, teams had been heading deeper in - scouting the best possible route for expansion. It had been going well, until they’d encountered the substance. Three died on the day they first discovered the foamy, gelatinous, rock-like substance lining the walls of one of the caverns being surveyed: their bodies burned and disintegrated nearly beyond DNA recognition. Subsequent encounters had not yielded better results. Amputation could spare a life, when contact with the substance was limited. Although, with fewer victims living than dead, the longer-term effects remained to be seen... Flynn: But we can’t keep losing people. There aren’t enough of us to keep fighting this … (gesturing toward the box) thing. And I know you’ll agree with me there. (Beat.) Any closer to figuring out what it is? Rick followed Ellen’s glance towards the containment box and shook his head. Armiger: Beyond the last report? (Rick shook his head sharply.) No. We know it’s highly acidic and contains two distinct bacteria. Jury’s out on the bacteria. (Rick made a humming noise.) The team is of the opinion that whatever the substance is, it’s not excreted by the rock - it’s being deposited by something. Flynn: Keep at it. Sam’s got the transmitter working - still can’t change the message. Armiger: The team is analysing samples from Kass. We’re pushing hard on this Ellen. We’re trying the experimental procedures on these samples. (Rick shifted in his seat.) We’re going to unpick this. Rick paused at the thought of Sam; the last time he saw Sam, that transmitter was getting a kicking. Rick laughed. Security had stepped in at one point citing charges of vandalism. Armiger: (Laughing.) Sam finally kicked that thing into submission then? Flynn: Kicked, slapped, threatened to sell it for scrap… No idea who he was planning on selling it to - (laughing) he’d have to get it working first! It was good to see Ellen smile, if only fleetingly. Rick smiled and nodded. Armiger: Someone might hear it. Let’s hold onto that hope for now. Ellen raised her eyebrows. Flynn: And let’s hold onto the hope that whoever hears it is friendly... Rick exhaled audibly at the thought of them attracting more hostile attention. It was a scenario that had been chewed over by the department heads at the colony steering meetings for months. Their repeated cautions had delayed the activation of the transmitter. In that delay, lives had been lost until finally the argument for sending the distress called outweighed the concerns. Rick changed the subject. Armiger: What time is the debrief? Flynn: Eight. Sam’ll patch you in if you can’t make it. Rick looked out at Kass. The sedation kept her unawares of the horror she had yet to wake up to. Eight, Rick repeated it to himself. That only gave Rick the best part of two hours. An hour to check in on the team’s experimental analysis of the EC-31 samples, and then an hour to speak to Kass. That assumed there would be no more inbound incidents to the primary medical unit (PMU) between then and now. Armiger: I’ll try Ellen, you know that. (Rick noded in the direction of Kass.) I might miss the start. Ellen pushed herself up out of the chair with a long look out at Kass. Flynn: Let me know, Doc. I’ll be over at Sam’s. Armiger: (Rick mustered a smile.) Tell Sam congrats. (Rick paused and clarified.) The transmitter. (Rick’s smile dropped.) Ellen - they’ll understand the pause. They’ll have to. Rick watched as Ellen left the office. In several paces, she was gone from sight, eclipsed by the ward partition. Rick sat and took a minute. Tonight’s debrief would be tough. The department heads would need some shepherding; it’d be a strenuous meeting. Rick decided to make sure he had as much data available to help Ellen as he could. That meant getting down to the containment lab and checking the team’s progress. Out in the corridor, Ellen leaned against the wall. Two hours. Two hours to come up with a solid way to break the news about the expansion delay, while simultaneously trying to get the transmitter to broadcast something, anything, other than a seventy-year old distress call. The call was already coming from a man who was long dead - and for all they knew, it was going to a government that no longer existed. End. ========================================== Ellen Flynn Colony Leader & Rick Armiger Chief Doctor Simmed by: Lieutenant Quen Deena (Ellen Flynn) Medical Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 E239602QD0 & Lieutenant Ben Garcia (Rick Armiger) Second Officer/HCO USS Thor NCC-82607 Author ID number: G239102MR0
  14. @German Galven This sim was really well done. It was sad but also really sweet. It shows the domestic side of star fleet life so well. I also want to congratulate you for implying at a challenging topic and giving it a bit more awareness. ((OOC- Wanted to do a small follow up after the JP with Sevo)) ((Science Department Holodeck Facility #1, Deck 547, Starbase 118)) German had stayed in the holodeck long after Ayiana left. He was ecstatic about hanging out and just talking with someone he’d known right from the beginning of his Starfleet career. Although that wasn’t why he was still in the simulated conference room. Even the assistant hologram looked on at him curiously. He smiled at the hologram which German figured since it was a barista to name him EBH or rather Venti Au Lait. Au Lait: Is this the best name you could think of for me? Galven: ::shrugs:: At least you have a name. Would you rather be called ‘The Barista’ or ‘Emergency Barista’? The five foot eight inch fair haired hologram looked like he was ready to facepalm. Instead, Venti walked back over to the coffee bar and started to clean up. When news broke from Lael that she was pregnant, German had gone to the rest of the ultrasound appointments with her. The doctor had recreated a hologram of what the baby would look like by the early signs of genetic sequences. Once he found out that they had lost their daughter due to complications of stress and the different genealogical hybrid species she would have, German didn’t want to accept it as he kept working to prevent his mind from breaking him apart. A few minutes had gone by as he was projecting what Galilea would’ve looked like if she was nine. The same age his sister was before she was kidnapped. After the creation was successful, German had tapped the monitor on the side of the holodeck which caused the little girl to form. First, her head was created as the long flowing strawberry blonde hair and light green eyes had formed. Soon, her ridges on the sides of her forehead appeared, but there weren't any ridges on her chin, but there were slightly noticeable ear ridges which also had the pointed features that Al-Leyans had. The rest of her body took shape as she stood around five foot wearing a child's costume of standard science officer attire. German admired the girl as she was frozen in place which made Venti approach German from behind and rest his hand on the Denobulan’s shoulder. Au Lait: I take it that this is someone you know? Galven: ::clears his throat, his view still on Galilea:: She’s my daughter if she was nine years old. Her date of birth would’ve been two months ago in March. Au Lait: ::pats his shoulder:: I’ll leave you two alone. Let me know if you need me. Venti walked back behind the bar as German tried to have the courage and strength to activate the holographic image of what was supposed to be his growing family. He had tried to contact Lael a few times after the transfer, but it was fruitless. She more than likely was too distraught and overworking herself as well which German understood and never held it against her. So when he started to also make a hologram of Lael, he decided against it because German knew how much she valued her privacy and it wasn't morally appropriate to do that without her consent. Instead, he turned on the video feed to send Lael a message afterward which she'd be able to watch if she wanted to. Galven: Computer. Activate video recording and the Galilea Program. Computer: Acknowledged. Video recording set and activating Galilea Program. The little girl's head started to move slightly and then blinked several times to adjust her eyesight. To say that German was nervous would be an understatement as Galilea glanced up at the Denobulan. He was at a loss for words at first, but when she smiled curiously at him, he felt more at ease. Galven: Hi Galilea. Do you know who I am? Galilea: ::wry grin:: You're my daddy, silly! ::giggles:: Where is mommy? German struggled to get out the words as his bottom lip quivered, but mentally shook away anything that'd prevented him from using the time wisely he had with Galilea for the first time. He stepped forward with his arms outstretched which made Galilea run up and give him a hug. Galven: Mommy is out on assignment right now. ::which wasn't too far from the truth since that was the last time he heard from Lael:: She's at Starfleet Headquarters, remember? ::releases from the hug, kneeling down to talk with her at eye level:: Galilea: Oh yeah! Teaching kids my age about engineering stuff, right? Galven: ::smiles and nods:: You're a lot smarter than you look, kiddo. ::winks and chuckles a bit:: Galilea: ::arches an eyebrow, smirking with her hands on both her sides:: Well, I got it from mom's side of the family. Oh, the girl was already being sassy enough that German wondered if the computer also determined her personality from both of her parents. He didn't mind though because that's how he sort of expected her to be. Practically about to bust a guy laughing, he stood back up and held her hand. Galven: That you did. Would you like to have to meet Venti and have something to drink? Galilea: ::shakes her head, glancing over at the bartender:: Not really. ::to German:: I wanna play with Arlil. Where is she? Galven: ::momentarily thrown:: How do you know about her? As soon as he finished his question, Arlil materialized in the room which he realized that Galilea was talking about his past sister before she was abducted and not the current Arlil which was a relief for him. With his hand still holding Galilea's, they both walked over to his little sister. Arlil: German, you should've paid more attention to which program you were using. ::huffs:: You almost deleted me, big brother! Galven: ::sheepishly chuckles in embarrassment: Well, it's a good thing that I didn't. Galilea: ::clearly confused:: Daddy, what's she talking about? Galven: ::starts sweating a little:: A program about... ::beat:: a game I used to play with her. Would you like to play with Arlil? German noticed that Arlil folded her arms across her chest, giving him narrowed eyes trying to figure out why he lied to Galilea. He gave her a quick wink with a look that told her to go along with it. She acknowledged back with a silent and quick nod to acknowledge him. She walked over and took Galilea's hand. Galilea: Oh! A game? What are we gonna play? Arlil: Since you're in science blues, wanna play in the dirt and look for any signs of old Terran dinosaur bones? Galilea: Sounds fun! Daddy, is that okay?! Can I, can I?! A chuckle turned into full on laughter which German agreed to. Of course, he would agree to something like that and soon enough, the holodeck transformed into an archaeological dig. Both girls ran for one of the sites and grabbed the equipment to start the adventure. German looked on with a teary eyed smile because he knew at some point, he'd have to end the program to get back to work. With a heavy heart, he knew that it wasn't healthy and for him to see his late daughter this way, he wanted to make it a right step for him to start the grieving process. Eventually, he started to help Galilea because during his time with her, she was about to unearth a few remnants of a large lizard which Arlil started to get excited about as well. Work would just have to wait for him to return. Galilea: I love you, daddy. Galven: ::worries his lip:: I love you too, baby girl.
  15. ((OOC: When reading this I could see the scene play out in front of my eyes the descriptions are spot on, and the conversation manages to weave through different topics both in the character's recent lives as well as past events. Very well done!)) ((Science Department Holodeck Facility #1, Deck 547, Starbase 118)) German had been configuring the holodeck to meet the right specs, but more he just wanted the room to look just the right way. He hadn’t seen Ayiana Sevo for a while after they were training officers together quite some time ago. After the barrage of emails between the two senior officers, they agreed on a day to go over a rather unique subject that the Trill Commander had experienced. Part of the large area had a section where a conference room was laid which was where German was at as he poured some coffee from the pot into a mug. There was another next to it that was empty, but he determined that he shouldn’t fill it in case Ayiana didn’t want any. After he took a sip, he grabbed a PADD on the table and then leaned backwards against the wall trying to make more sense of what the Gorkon had experienced. There wasn’t as much detail in the report which made sense given how important it was to summarize what happened than to dispel anything to any prying eyes. Dozens of light-years away, Ayiana stood in one of the Gorkon’s holodecks, the blank black-and-yellow grid surrounding her like an unpainted canvas. She was surprised to hear from Commander Galven in recent weeks; aside from a training class the two ran some months back on Starbase 118, she hadn’t seen him since his own final exam. He had nearly blown up a bomb in her face. German was mostly curious about Ayiana’s scientific papers, especially her theories on the recent Q encounter; more precisely, her own hypothesis on the nature of the Q. Some people had told her to drop it; by their very nature, the Q were unknowable and beyond understanding. Ayiana couldn’t accept that; to her, everything in the universe was explainable with science. This was the most unusual part. Galven had insisted they meet via holo-conferencing, a technology that had been up-and-coming in recent years. It was more personal than staring into a flat viewscreen, but she couldn’t help but feel some trepidation. With a final sigh of anxiousness, Ayiana established the connection. The blank grid disappeared around her, replaced with a lush furnished conference room in standard Starfleet decor. If she didn’t know any better, it could have been one of a dozen such rooms on the Gorkon itself. Sevo: Hello? The only other occupant in the room was a lanky man with his back to her. He wore one of the newly-issued Starfleet uniforms, a far cry from the grey-on-black jumpers with department undershirt. The new design was reminiscent of the uniforms worn just before the Dominion War, albeit with a slightly different shoulder design, subtle chevron stitching in them, and a wholly redesigned combadge. All-in-all, it looked sharp. She was still wearing the old, military-esque uniforms with a skirt. Galven: ::turns quickly around:: When did you get here? I didn’t hear you come in. Sevo: That’s what happens when you’re a hologram. Poof! :: She mimed an explosion with her hands. :: Ayiana took in the sight of the man. It had been a while since she’d seen him and his appearance seemed to have changed slightly. He stood the same height as her, but his hair was short-curled greying black. Characteristic Denobulan ridges ensconced his jovial face. Galven: ::wry grin:: Perhaps you’re right. ::shrugs:: Maybe not. Anyways, would you like some coffee? Sevo: Not unless I’m hungover, but shore leave is just getting started. You wouldn’t believe the mission we’ve had. :: She paused. :: I’ll take a Pepsi, though. When the redheaded senior officer remarked that a hangover hadn’t happened yet, German smirked as the thoughts ran through his mind. Momentarily shaking his mind off, he approached the panel and brushed his fingers along the numbered codes. Galven: Computer, activate G-SBH-001, requesting a Terran carbonated soda beverage and a Denobulan subterranean medium roast coffee. A holographic attendant appeared behind a small bar tucked into one corner. He quickly busied himself with her order while she strolled over to a couch. She sat down, crossing her legs and propped an elbow on the armrest. Sevo: I have to say, this is an unexpected venue. Is this really a holodeck? :: She half-wondered if it was a real room with holoemitters. :: German had walked over to the bar to grab their drinks once the holo-attendant finished when Ayiana was mesmerized with one of the newest holodeck features. When he walked back, he had to admit that even though uniform dress skirts were a little dated that the clothing actually fit her body type. As he sat her drink on the three legged metallic steel end table next to her side of the couch, German sat down on a black curved chair, slightly diagonal from where Ayiana was sitting, still holding his mug. Galven: ::nods:: It is. ::takes a sip:: One of the newest editions with the latest updates. Sevo: I don’t think I’ve communicated like this before. It’s much more...real. Galven: One of the many perks being on the starbase. I can send you the schematics if you're interested along with the upgrades for it to properly run in one of the holodecks on the Gorkon? Sevo: I’m sure we’ll get it during our next layover. As a Task Force flagship, we get all the bells and whistles. Besides, we’re upgraded enough to have this little chat, right? :: She winked at him as she took a sip. :: Galven: ::shrugs:: The offer is always there. ::grins:: So, how have you been? A lot of things have happened ever since we last trained some cadets together. Sevo: Indeed. You’ve got a few more pips on that collar. You haven’t blown anyone else up, have you? :: She eyed him playfully. :: Galven: More or less. We've been trying to locate a group of Klingon cultists that have devised a poisonous bioweapon. A powerful gas that kills Klingons instantly and other species. Sevo: That doesn’t seem very honorable. Klingons regard the use of poison as a coward’s weapon. Galven: I'm more interested in what you and the Gorkon crew have encountered. You said in one of the emails about encountering Q, right? Sevo: Yea. She put us in an alternate reality based on an earlier experience we had in a dream state. The difference is, this time I remember *everything* that happened. German leaned forward a little and took a sip of his drink. He was already getting pretty enthralled in what she was saying which was more than what German had to offer because he didn’t have anything to say when she paused for a second. Sevo: Don’t know how much you’ve read up on the Gorkon’s mission reports, but a couple of years ago we were captured by a renegade Trill who put us in a collective dream. We thought we were a Maquis cell still fighting the Cardassians. Anyway, Q used that as the basis of her own “science experiment.” I think she wanted to see what made us tick. Galven: That doesn’t sound like she was very experienced at all. Sevo: I got the impression that she was relatively young, or at least naive, for a Q. She wanted to learn and know about us. Galven: Well, I know about one thing. We are a pretty explosive bunch. ::chuckles as he playfully tapped her knee:: So how did you guys get out of it? Ayiana ignored the bad joke, obviously referring to the incident between them at Galven’s final exam simulation. Sevo: *We* didn’t. :: She emphasized the “we.” :: Q did. She got all the data she wanted from us, then popped us back to the Gorkon at the exact moment we left. To those around us, it looked like we hadn’t left at all. Except that one moment we were fine, then the next we were sprouting injuries. Ayiana took a sip of her soda, letting Galven soak in the news. Sevo: I don’t suppose you’ve had any experiences like that, huh? Galven: I can’t say the same for me. There haven't been any missions like that, only personal struggles and demons. Sevo: Oh, I’ve had those too. Care to give an example? Ayiana paused again, finishing her first quarter of the sandwich, took a sip of wine, then moved on to the second quarter. Sevo: Anyway, what’s this about you in the *BORG UNIMATRIX?!* :: She emphasized the last words rather loudly. :: He nearly choked on his sandwich, but caught himself in time. Her raised tone made him realize that not everyone had heard about his experiences as well as being able to create a way to go in and out of the unimatrix. Galven: Oh, yeah. Well ::takes a drink:: It started about several years before I even considered joining Starfleet. Another scientist and I worked on stray Borg nanobots and with enough tachyokinetic energy conversion, we were able to minimize it into an ocular device allowing me to enter into the unimatrix. It took her a moment to translate the technicals he just explained. Sevo: So...you don’t actually connect your mind to it? It’s more like a virtual reality tour? Still sounds dangerous. Anything having to do with the Borg is dangerous. We’ve been lucky not to cross paths with them. Galven: Eh… well… that was the plan in the beginning until there was an accident. I don’t remember too much of what happened, but during my first mission on the Veritas, I was trying to disconnect a drone from the Hive Mind when they caught on to my device and used that to partially assimilate me without me even realizing they did so. Ayiana nearly choked on her sandwich; a look of surprise and fear was on her face. Sevo: You nearly got *ASSIMILATED?!* :: She was beginning to think Galven was rather reckless. :: He stopped to take a drink and waited for the next reveal so that she could digest more about what he said. After a few seconds, he took another drink and began speaking again. Galven: ::shakes his head:: No nearly. Another mission aboard the Montreal, a Klingon terrorist had poisoned me which activated the nanoprobes that I injected into myself during those earlier years which acted as a bridge leading towards my nervous system which I basically assimilated myself, but it actually saved my life by improving my nervous system to act as a strong barrier from the poison that would’ve killed anyone else. She paused, taking a long, slow chug of her drink. Sevo: I’m going to need more bloodwine… :: She paused, finishing the mug. :: So you still have the nanoprobes in you? :: Ayiana eyed Galven up and down suspiciously, as if he was ready to burst into a Borg at any moment. :: Galven: Don’t worry. The nanoprobes were taken out by Lael. You can even see for yourself if you want? Lael Rosek. Ayiana remembered her; served with the woman for a time on the Victory and Gorkon. Sevo: No, I’ll take your word for it. Glad to hear Lael is doing well. How is her spinal injury? He didn’t even realize he said Lael’s name until Ayiana said it back to him. As he furrowed his brow and took the rest of his drink. German really tried to find the words that were suddenly lost on him. As if a long forgotten memory had just been burned into his mind. Galven: Computer. Another round of drinks. Double on the Ale. Ayiana paused her meal, blinking. Did she say something wrong? The last time he had seen her was very short and sudden. With all the work German busied himself with, he hadn’t had the chance to mourn the loss of the relationship. Galven: ::murmurs:: She had to stop taking the medicine when she found out we were pregnant. ::grasps his second drink:: Last time I heard, she was doing well enough. ::grasps the mug with both hands:: The sudden transfer orders the Astraeus received really affected her. ::takes a drink:: I lost her when the baby was lost. ::clears his throat:: Win some and you lose some, right? Anyways, that was too much to say and to put on you. I apologize. Ayiana straight up dropped her food on her plate, completely forgotten. She stared right at Galven. Sevo: *Pregnant?!* I haven’t heard from her in a while but...she was...you were…damn. She paused again, taking a long, slow sip of wine, more to shut her mouth than anything else, while she regained her composure. Sevo: I...I’m sorry. I didn’t know you and her were like that. I’m sorry for your loss. Galven: I chose not to have our relationship broadcasted so others wouldn’t think my promotions and awards were given to me because I was sleeping with the First Officer. No need to apologi-- Sevo: Don’t put down the loss so quickly. You lost *a child.* I have no idea how I’d feel if that happened, and I’ve had several over the centuries. It was a good thing that she had interrupted him because he hadn’t put two and two together ever since the news broke about it. German was always a workaholic, but when something so tragic happened, he would hammer down which would help his memory from thinking about any of those transgressions. Galven: ::stares at his mug:: Her name was going to be Galilea Belle. I was so excited about finally being a father. ::smiles softly, lost in thought as he saw more of his reflection in the mug:: The things I was going to spoil her with. It hasn’t been easy, but Lael is most likely better off without someone like me. ::takes a sip, then glances back up at Ayiana:: Are you seeing anyone? Ayiana smiled as Galven revealed his daughter’s name. Sevo: That’s a beautiful name. I’m sure you would have been a great father. :: She took a sip of her freshly refilled wine. :: No, I’m not at the moment. I hope you’re not asking...I mean...we just met...again...um… :: This time, she stuffed her mouth with a large bite of the sandwich.:: oO SHUT. UP. MOUTH. Oo Galven: ::chuckles:: I wasn’t asking, but more like trying to reverse engines on myself for the time being. I wouldn’t be a great candidate to match your prowess anyways. ::extends his mug to klink hers as a signal hopefully allowing the awkwardness to drift away:: She lifted her mug, completing the toast. Sevo: Well, I haven’t exactly had the best luck with relationships recently. Not sure what you’ve heard about me or my… “prowess”? You mean my work? Galven: Your work and being the best training officer to work with as a cadet and trainer. Even though we’re galaxies apart, I still like to brush myself up with what other scientists are doing. Especially Lt. Commander Ayiana Sevo. My students hear enough about you from me. ::smirks with a wink as he takes a drink:: Her cheeks were starting to turn a shade remarkably similar to the bloodwine she was drinking. Sevo: Heh, thanks, I guess. I keep up with most of the scientific community, and I’ve seen your name here and there. You’ve become something of a celebrity among temporal mechanics circles. Galven: I don’t know about celebrity status, but when you’ve got plenty of time to work on, there’s suddenly even more time to further more research. ::smiles at his own bad pun:: Sevo: :: She arched an eyebrow at the bad joke. :: Ha. Ha. Ayiana smiled at German as she took a sip of her wine. She was glad to meet another scientist, and someone who made her laugh. JP written by Lt. Commander German Galven 2O/Chief Science Officer 6reatDane@gmail.com Starbase 118 Ops - USS Narendra V239507GG0 “Adhere to your purpose and you will soon feel as well as you ever did. On the contrary, if you falter, and give up, you will lose the power of keeping any resolution, and will regret it all your life.” - Abraham Lincoln & Lt. Commander Ayiana Sevo Research Coordinator U.S.S. Gorkon V239109AS0 “Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.” -Carl Sagan
  16. ((OOC - I've combined both of the players posts. This was all tag style and not a JP. Incredible job you two!)) ((Sickbay, StarBase 118 Ops)) Bailey had worked on her engineering project for most of the day before her body needed sleep. The next day it seemed she had a few tasks to do before she could relax again; not for long. She had a few medical exams to conduct and a meeting with First Officer Nijil to set up. Sheila had rolled into sickbay in her wheelchair rather early ready to start her day. The woman seemed to arrive just as her first patient did. Without hesitation she entered sickbay and was immediately welcomed by Dr. Bailey, who was expecting her. Bailey: Ms. Casparian. Good to see you. Casparian: Hello Lieutenant Bailey, good to see you again as well. I hope I did not keep you waiting? Bailey: Not at all I got here only a few minutes ago. Why don’t you follow me and hop up on a biobed? Casparian: Certainly. ::walks towards the biobed:: With a small hop, she sat herself on the biobed and let her legs casually rock back and forth a bit. Going to medical facilities was not her favorite pastime, but it didn’t make her particularly nervous either. Her inquisitive eyes looked around the sickbay almost with childlike curiosity. Bailey could tell that the woman was maybe a bit nervous, most people were no matter how routine the appointment was. Bailey: ::gathered her tools as she talked:: How are you feeling? Casparian: At the moment, I feel fine. ::chuckles:: Well, except for the bruise on my shin from the chair I bumped into this morning, ::reaches down and rubs the sore spot:: but that’s nothing. She was used to having bruises, sometimes the smallest bump or pinch would cause her to bruise up, and other times, with similar bumps or pinches, nothing happened. It had been like this for as long as she could remember and other than it being not very attractive when showing bare legs or arms, it did not really bother her. Bailey nodded at that. Bruises were normal and nothing to worry about unless they happened without warning or a good wack to a limb. The doctor was sure it was nothing but her mind always went to the worst first as a precaution. Bailey: Do you mind if I take a look at it? Casparian: Not at all. ::smiles and keeps her leg still:: Go right ahead. Bailey: Standard checks. I’m sure it’s nothing. Bailey waved her medical tricorder in a gesture to indicate that she was going to use it and if it was okay. Even if she never directly asked she always wanted to make sure the patient was comfortable with her using it. Romyana had no issues with tricorders, so she returned a smiley nod. Medical tricorders were a specialized variant of the one she used every day at work herself. They were simply scanning devices. Casparian: I know that I bruise up quickly, but they disappear easily too. ::shrugs:: Always been like this. Bailey: Tell me...how have you been sleeping? Any recent health changes I should know about? Casparian: I sleep like a rose, the quarters on the Starbase are very comfortable, I must say! ::turns her eyes up to think:: Anything recent. No. Bailey: Indeed they are. ::The young doctor couldn’t argue with that:: What about your genealogy or speciesology? Sheila had of course taken a look at the patient file but had only really glanced over it. When she saw the note about the genealogy her face developed a small frown. She thought it was then best to ask during the appointment. Casparian: ::nods:: My Grandmother is Vulcan, so I’m… ::hesitates:: mixed. Romyana assumed that the Lieutenant had received her medical files and was therefore familiar with her medical history. Especially the peculiarities that came with her having mixed Human and Vulcan heritage that made her physiology slightly different than normal and the problems this had caused in the past. Long, long ago. That made more sense based on the rest of the file notes now. Bailey: Thanks for the clarification. Now when you were four you were admitted to the hospital? Casparian: Yes, I was admitted into hospital when I was four, because I had suddenly developed some serious complications after a simple infection. That was when the diagnosis was made. ::looks at the tips of her shoes:: It took a year to heal. I don’t remember much of that time. The way it was explained to me was that because my liver is more like a Vulcan one it is built to process copper-based blood cells, but with the rest of me being mostly Human, I have iron-based blood cells and my liver has difficulty coping with that. ::frowns:: An unhappy mix of genes, I suppose. ::upbeat:: I would rather have had pointy ears! She gave a small laugh. This just confirmed slightly for Sheila that Casparian was in fact given a diagnosis of Chronic Cirrhosis of the liver. Now just for some basic questions so Sheila could understand how the illness affected her new friend. Bailey: Chronic Cirrhosis of the liver? Casparian: Yes, and because I was still so young, after treatment, the liver could adapt and it stabilized. It has been for all those years now. Bailey: Good, good. I have some basic questions to ask you about it if you don’t mind? I want to understand your experience with it in order to tailor your care. Casparian: Naturally, feel free to ask me anything. I’ll do my best to answer. This didn’t come as a surprise to the ensign, she always had some sort of check-ins with physicians to monitor her condition and she hadn’t expected it to be any different this time. Bailey: A number of symptoms can occur as well as indicate the severity of the scarring. Tell me how do you typically feel on average? Casparian: I feel fine. I’m not particularly tired, not nauseous, no pain. I try to eat healthy and I don’t drink alcohol or synthahol for that matter - just to be safe. Bailey: That’s great to hear. Nothing sounds too severe then. Casparian: Indeed, I don't really notice anything of it in my daily life, except for the easy bruising, but that comes and goes. ::shrugs:: Bailey: You also don’t have any skin or eye discoloration from what I can see so no jaundice. ::slight pause:: If you don’t mind I would like you to lay down flat on the biobed. I would like to do a simple test to check on your liver. Sheila gave Casparian some time to adjust herself on the bed. This also gave Sheila s minute or two to adjust herself as well so that she could perform the test. Casparian: Um, okay. ::calmly lies back on the biobed and waits for Bailey to be ready too.:: Doctor Bailey sure was being thorough. The chief medical officer on the station where Romyana had done her cadet cruise had simply looked at the file, nodded, asked if she was fine and told her to come back if anything changed. Admittedly, she preferred Bailey’s approach - it felt more reassuring. Bailey: I’m going to give a few hard taps to you midsection on the side where your liver is. It shouldn’t hurt plus it should be fairly quick. Just tell me when you're ready. Casparian: Okidoki. I’m ready when you are. ::smiles comfortably:: Bailey: No pain? Bailey had given a few precise taps to Casparian’s abdomen. In doing so she couldn’t feel an enlargement of the liver, no unusual sounds. Everything seemed fine. Sheila had known it would be but as a doctor this was a reassuring piece of information. Casparian: No, didn’t hurt a bit. ::places her own hands on her abdomen, just below her rib cage, clasping her fingers:: What’s the verdict, Doc? Will I live? ::laughs:: Bailey: ::Small laugh:: Of course you will. Romyana had been calm and quiet during the test so the doctor could concentrate on palpitating her midsection, which felt pretty uncomfortable but certainly not painful. To Bailey this meant that she was in a fit mental state as well. Quite good. Now it was done, the ensign figured she could be a bit more lighthearted and joke - after all, it was nice to have a laugh at work sometimes, also for medical officers. Casparian: I assume you will want me to come into sickbay for regular checks? How often were you thinking? ::props herself up on her elbows:: I’m good with anything you propose. Bailey: I think we can start with just a regular yearly check. If we need to have more we can Casparian: Allright. ::sits up straight and speaks in a more serious tone:: What about you? Are you okay? I mean, now that I see you at work, I realize how difficult it really is for you to move around in these gravity conditions. Sheila leaned back in her wheelchair at that. For a moment she could feel every rough contact point her exoskeleton made with her body. Her body felt numb with the slight sudden shock of someone actually carrying for her in her work environment. Bailey: I’m doing as well as I can. I won’t lie and say I have an easy time. However I want to thank you for helping me. For half a second Sheila wanted to tell Casparian about her uncle. How she wasn’t 100% in a good place. But the need left as quickly as it came. No, she was going to tell Nijil first. But she could smile knowing she had such a great friend with her. For a fleeting moment it seemed as if Sheila was going to say something else, though Romyana could have been mistaken and replied amicably, while bringing her legs back to dangle over the edge of the biobed and pushing herself off it with a tiny hop. Casparian: Oh, you mean the other day when Rustyy and I tinkered around to improve your forearm crutches and leg braces? That’s alright, it was really no effort. I think they turned out pretty good. Bailey: You are helping make things better. Casparian: ::speaks with a serious and genuine tone:: Thank you Sheila. I appreciate the compliment. Of course, the same goes for you. Romyana watched as the Aleysian woman settled herself back in her wheelchair. It was impressive that she'd decided to join Starfleet knowing that she’d have to work and live for the most part in much more difficult conditions than many other species. The young Ensign doubted if she would have been brave enough to do the same if she were in Sheila’s position. With that Sheila returned back to a professional manner. Their appointment time was almost up. Bailey: With that I think you're all set to go. On your way out your welcome to schedule your next appointment with one of the nurses. ::At that she paused. Deep breath.:: as a friend before you go mind if I offer a hug? Casparian: Okay, I'll do that. ::glances back at the door listening to Sheila’s question:: That is awfully nice of you! Of course you can. With that the two women gave a short embrace. Romyana was not used to receiving affection like this, her parents were not the cuddly kind, it was something she missed growing up. After, Bailey smiled giving a small two finger wave, her middle and pointer finger waving. The appointment went well, no reason for more appointments at this moment in time. Patient seemed to be in both fine physical and mental health based on her exam results as well as reactions to said test. It was a smile knowing she had a great friend. One she cared for as well as one that cared for her. Casparian: I’m sure we’ll catch up again later. ::heads out of sickbay:: Ciao! The appointment went well, the Doctor seemed not only very knowledgeable but also very caring towards her patients, which Romyana appreciated a lot. And Sheila had said she considered her a friend, that was a very nice compliment to get and she shared the sentiment for the Elaysian woman. Life on this Starbase was looking better by the day. ------ Lieutenant JG Sheila Bailey Medical Officer Starbase 118 Ops M239512BG0 "Ta-er al-Safar" - the Canary; No woman should ever suffer at the hands of men - (Quotes) Sara Lance; Legends Of Tomorrow Ensign Romyana Casparian Engineering Officer Starbase 118 Ops O239703RC0 * * * Live your dreams, don't dream your life * * *
  17. This is an awesome example of two writers who let their characters shine together. Great job @G'var and @CharlenaVanlith. --- ((Deck 4, USS Veritas)) Charlena pulled her hair tighter into a ponytail as she made her way to G'var's door. She was nervous and excited all at once. She hoped she'd be able to keep up with G'var but she also trusted her friend to not harm her. She tugged slightly at her outfit making sure it was just right for fighting as she lifted her hand to the chime by the door. As the door chime sounded, G'var took one last look in the mirror. Nodding her head in approval that her hair was braided tight to her head, G'var grabbed her bat’leth and opened the door. Raising a brow in surprise at Vee’s matching hair. G'var:::smirking:: why little sister, I see you've finally taken my advice and put your hair up. Vanlith: ::chuckling:: well I've got to at least have unobstructed sight as an advantage. G'var:::throwing a thumb over her shoulder:: Oh really, maybe I should get my clippers then? I’ll give you a nice buzz cut, ::winking:: very fashionable, everyone on the parrises squares Team had them. Vanlith: You wouldn't. ::Glares slightly:: G'var:::hands on hips:: I know how much your hair means to you Vee, I wouldn't dare. ::quickly spinning her bat’leth up:: or perhaps I could just take a bit of the top. Vanlith: Good because otherwise when I get good at this. G'var::: Laughing:: well make a mental note to remind me to teach you how to defend against that. Vanlith: Sounds like a plan. Actually G I'm a little nervous. G'var:::smacking Vee on the shoulder:: Don't worry, today is all about your stance, you cannot learn to fight without knowing how to stand first. Vanlith: Well I think I can handle that. Lead the way. G'var:::placing her arm around Vee:: That's the spirit Sister! Today you begin your journey to becoming a Warrior. Charlena followed G'var. She was aware that her strength and height did put her at a disadvantage if they did fight today so she was thankful that it was just the stance. G’var:::raising a brow:: I must admit, I was a bit surprised by your request to do this. ::chuckling:: even Wil won't join me for a sparring session. Vanlith: I know it's a bit random but I guess I just thought it would be something different I could do. I mean I am a little worried I won’t even be able to hold one for a long period of time. G’var:::shoulder bumping Vee:: Oh don't give me that, They’ll write songs about the Sisters of Km’Tek. Trust me Vee, if you truly want to learn to use the Bat’leth, then I shall teach, it's all about repetition and not being afraid to take a hit. Vanlith: I push myself hard enough at the gym without you joining ::chuckles:: G’var:::laughing:: Good, then you won't mind if I join you at the gym. ::pinching Vee’s arm:: We’ll get you stronger in no time. Vanlith: ::chuckling:: How am I even going to consider keeping up with that? G'var:::[...]ing her head:: Well, you said you weren't strong enough. So we have to start you on a regimented plan of diet and exercise as well. Vanlith: ::gulping:: You're not going to fully convert my diet are you? I'm not sure I can handle that much. G'var:::Laughing:: No Sister, you don't have to eat gagh or targ heart. Though we will have to up your caloric intake, increase your protein consumption. Vanlith: Increase? How on earth am I going to do that? G'var:::smirking:: It won't be that bad, we can work with Lex on a nutrition plan. ::winking:: then you can start meeting me in the gym at 0500 each day. Vanlith: I mean that's only an hour earlier than normal. I'm sure I'll cope. G'var:::shoulder checking Vee:: Come on let's get to the Holodeck, we've got a lot of work to do this morning. I hope you hydrated like I told you too. Vanlith: Of course I did. Not a chance I wouldn't take your advice on this. ((Holodeck 2, Deck 5)) After an hour of working with Vee, G'var was impressed by the other woman's tenacity. She remembered her own hard lessons from the Dahar Master on Boreth. G'var had been no less demanding of Vee than he had of her, and so far she had not disappointed. Taking a short break so Vee could tape up her toes and ankles, G'var had to smile, her little Sister had definitely not disappointed her. G'var:::swinging her bat’leth:: You truly have the heart of a Warrior, you bring more Honor to your House than you could possibly know Sister. Charlena looked up as she finished fastening the tape. She couldn't help but smile. This felt good, she felt like she was actually in control. She was so proud that G'var had said that to her even if her lungs were burning just a little. Vanlith: ::sincerely:: It's all down to you. G'var:::raising a brow::Me? ::cradling her bat’leth in the crook of her arm:: No, today is about you Vee. Your Courage and Honor have brought you here. Vanlith: Honestly. Without your help and support I don't know how well I would have lasted here. G'var:::taking a breath:: V...Charlena...You are stronger than you know, you have more than earned your place here. This is your Home Sister. Vanlith: I'm so proud to have you call me your sister. G'var:::bowing her head:: You do me the Honor of allowing me to call you Sister Charlena. Charlena rose to her feet and whilst she was nowhere near the height of the impressive woman opposite her she didn't feel small, weak or intimidated. Instead she felt empowered and ready to take on anything. She could feel the determination fall across her face. Vanlith: So what can you show me next? G'var:::spinning the bat’leth over Charlena’s head:: You still need to work on your footing and posture. ::smirking:: However, if you are feeling up to it I will show you the First Stroke. Vanlith: ::Ducking slightly in shock.:: Now that sounds like fun. G'var:::tapping Vee’s leg with her bat’leth:: come them, show me Kri’StAk! Position one! Vanlith: ::Reading her feet and holding her posture:: Well then G. Let's see what you've got. G'var:::winking:: As you wish Sister ::swing her blade down towards Vee’s head:: Defend yourself! Vanlith: Oh I will ::preparing herself for the impact and adjusting her weight slightly to be behind the blade:: Swinging her blade down, G'var let a large smile spread across her face as Vee brought her own blade up to meet hers. With a loud KLANG, the two blades met each other. Pressing the attack, G'var began to slowly press the tip of her blade down towards Vee’s head. Vanlith: You really are as strong as you look. G'var:::Smiling:: WwanHa' rur D’loK! (bend like the reed) Vanlith: ::Smiling:: Like this? Somehow Char had managed to move her weight and feet enough to get out from under the blow in doing so pushing G back away from herself. G'var:::twirling her blade:: Good...very good ::holding the Bat'leth at the ready position:: remember to not lock your thumbs out. ::snapping her fingers:: otherwise... Vanlith: I mean I don't know if that's right but it worked ::shrugging.:: G'var:::raising a brow:: worked? ::smiling:: you mean you don't have my bat’leth sticking in your head ::chuckling:: besides your thumbs, how did it feel? Vanlith: It just felt natural. It made sense. G'var:::slapping Vee’s arm:: Natural is good, you and the blade are one then. ::rubbing her chin:: someone your size needs to rely on cunning and speed more than brute strength. You and your blade need to become one. Only then will you be unstoppable. Vanlith: Unstoppable. I like the sound of that. G'var::Swinging out her bat’leth:: Now back to Kri’StAK one. We have a lot of practice to do today. You ready little Sister? Vanlith: Ready as ever. Thank you for this. G'var:::Laughing:: Don't thank me yet Sister, you've got years of this to go before you can call yourself a Master. Vanlith: Master? Now that does seem a way away especially as I still need to remember not to lock my thumbs. G'var:::winking:: I'll be with you every step of your journey. A piece of me will always be in your heart. Wherever your life leads you take me with you. ::Swinging her blade down:: Now defend yourself! Vanlith: With pleasure Sister. Charlena made a careful attempt not to lock her thumbs this time as she made another evasive move to get out from underneath G'vars blade. G'var:::bringing her blade down:: Excellent! Remember to stay loose Vanlith: :: chuckling:: Now this is what I call fun. G'var:::snarling:: Fun! Let's see if you find it fun when you wake up in the morning ::snarlaughing:: Vanlith: Did I lock my thumbs that time I tried not to? G'var:::raising a brow:: No you didn't, top marks on your form. Now we just have to practice, practice, practice ::tapping Vee’s Blade with hers:: Vanlith: ::smiling proud of herself:: Well I've fixed one thing at least. G'var:::smiling:: let's keep going lil’Sister, back to Form 1 ::sweeping her Bat'leth in front of her:: Aftward this we can go for a steam and a Raktajino. Vanlith: Now that sounds like a brilliant plan. ::Readying her stance:: Ready when you are. Charlena couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she kept her feet light and moving, adjusting her stance and positioning of the weapon in response to G without hesitation. G’var:::growling::Keep that smile on your face Vee ::bringing her blade down towards the crown of Charlene’s head:: it will make your opponents uncomfortable knowing you find joy in killing them! A very useful distraction! Charlenas smile broadened as she thought she saw an opening and went on the counter attack. Somehow it is much more successful than she could have imagined. Vanlith: You mean like that? ::Chuckling light-heartedly:: G'var hadn't expected Vee to be as fast as she was and narrowly avoided getting her side cut opened. Looking back at the smaller woman, G'var had to admit to herself that she may have created a Monster. G'var: oO By Kah’less, just what the Ship needs, another Combat Monster...I guess I set too good an example. Oo G'var:::dodging to the side:: Yes…:::looking at the tear in her gi’s side::exactly like that...You're slicker than a greased Targ! ::pointing her the tip of her blade at Vee:: let's see you try that again Quicksilver! Vanlith: Not sure I could try it again. ::Laughing:: but I can give it a go. Charlena readied her stance again and their spar continued. She had never had so much fun in any form of combat training before and she wasn’t sure what about this was so enjoyable but she wouldn’t change it for the world. Although she wasn’t sure that this wasn’t fun just because it was G and it wasn’t real. G’var:::sweeping out with her blade:: Again, Youneed to rely on your cunning and speed lil sister. ::stepping around a riposte from Vee:: you've got a long way to go to be able to match strength with an opponent. We need to work on your agility, dexterity. and flexibility. Vanlith: ::someone dodging the move but losing her grip on her blade:: Agility, dexterity and flexibility right ok. G'var:::pinning Vee's blade to the mat:: If you truly want to learn to be a Warrior, I will teach you ::holding up a finger:: but to not take this oath lightly Charlena. The Path will be demanding and long. ::smiling:: Though I would be honored to walk beside you on your Journey. Vanlith: Yes. I want to learn. Please G’var. G'var:::slapping her fist to her chest:: Very well then Sister. ::cutting the palm of her hand:: pong Doq 'Ip jIH 'e' ghojmoHwI' pa' qeylIS SuvwI' ::holding her bloody hand out:: (On my Honor I swear to be your Teacher. By Kahless, you will be a Warrior) Vanlith: ::holding out her hand cutting her palm in the same way trying to keep a straight face:: Thank you sister. ::smiling:: I will make you proud. ::shaking G’var’s hand:: --- Lieutenant G'var Assistant Chief of Security USS Veritas NCC-95035 V239511G10 & LT. JG Charlena Vanlith Engineering Officer USS Veritas V239604CV0
  18. This SIM is an example of a PERFECT starter in my opinion. It tells a lot about the character that narrates the scene, it's fun, it inspires you to write and it leaves a lot of room for creativity for those that come after. It also has some of the best descriptions of the struggle against... "elements" that every first officers experience. Besides, on a personal level, it gave me the push I needed to get out of writer's block so my esteem for it is double. Thank you for this jewel @Geoffrey Teller! _______________________________________________ ((XO's office, Deck 1, USS Thor)) He'd been so careful. So clever and deft in his strategies. But, as he sat, surrounded on all sides by his oldest nemesis, Teller closed his eyes in surrender to the inevitable. The Paddwork had found him. All of it. After speaking with his team a few hours ago and then following up with the Boss, Teller had decided to take his new office for a quick spin. Only slightly smaller than the Captain's ready room and almost equally plush, it was a far cry from the small desk and chairs he'd grown used to as a Chief Engineer. The small observation window with its view of the warp core had been replaced by a magnificent set of panoramic viewports, giving Teller a spectacular view of the hauntingly beautiful slipstream corridor. He'd allowed himself a full minute to appreciate the view before turning his attention to the console on his desk. He had intended on spending some of this time getting his few personal effects out of the storage case, presently shoved in one corner of the office, but that had taken a back seat when Geoff foolishly opened his to-do list. As the computer merrily scrolled past the eight hundredth and fourteenth entry, Teller slumped back into his chair and began to dig in. That had been five hours ago. Somehow the list had gotten longer, and the padd he'd originally tossed on the desk had made friends and started a family. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Teller pushed back from the desk and crossed to the replicator mounted on the wall - another small but notable and pleasant difference from his old office. As his cup of coffee shimmered into existence, Geoff decided he needed a change before attacking the pile anew and hoped their research team had turned up some useful background information on the colony. Teller: =/\= Teller to Lt. Lovar & Ensign Alieth =/\= Lovar/Alieth: =/\= Response =/\= Teller: =/\= What've you been able to determine so far? =/\= Lovar/Alieth: =/\= Response =/\= Geoff's ears perked up. That sounded substantially more interesting than another few hours of paddwork. Teller: =/\= In that case, why don't you transfer your findings to my office and we'll review them together before bringing them to the Captain? =/\= Lovar/Alieth: =/\= Response =/\= Teller: =/\= Excellent, see you momentarily. =/\= As the channel closed, Geoff cast a victorious smirk towards the pile. ((A short time later)) The door chimed as Teller was wrestling with the contents of his shipping container. When he had packed it aboard the Veritas, he didn't think he'd violated the laws of physics or spatial geometry to fit everything inside, but after opening it and nearly being thrown against the ceiling by the overflowing contents, Geoff wondered if he should contact the Daystrom Institute - he could be in the running for a prize. Teller: Come in, make yourselves comfortable. I've got a fresh pot of coffee on the conference table. Geoff nodded towards the small, circular four seat table. It was neither as nice or as large as the one in the Captain's office, but it would serve perfectly for quick meetings and brainstorming sessions. Lovar/Alieth: Response Teller: So, take me through what you've learned. Lovar/Alieth: Response Tags/TBC! =============================== Lieutenant Commander Geoffrey Teller Executive Officer USS Thor Fleet Captain A. Kells, Commanding V239509GT0
  19. ((Beta Quadrant, Par'tha Expanse, USS Atlantis, Level 9B, Science Lab 11, House Larkon Space, Paldor System, Mining Asteroid Belt)) Pulling his hand out of the caved in and shattered helmet Kurt looked up to the only other person making any noise in the Lab, the sobbing of the Lavender haired, scared Nurse. The sight would have been enough to break the heart of anyone, for Kurt the fury sitting in him dissolved away to nothing. Standing up he moved slowly towards the frozen Antosian. Logan::Quitely:: Avea... Shouting wasnt going to help she looked to much in shock for it to do anything but cause even more panic. Logan: Wyla... its ok She stood there with her legs lightly shaking her sobbing loud and deep, the terror of the last few minutes flaring behind her eyes. At first the Antosian didn't answer or move, her gaze was unfocused staring off across the Science Lab. Logan oO Definitely shock.. Oo Avae: N..no..it's not...I'm..scared..so ..scared... Logan: No ::Smiling:: No your safe, they are no longer a threat to you. Avae: ::She slowly looked to the lifeless body of the holographic intruder:: I..can't...stop..shaking... Logan: They cant hurt you... I'm here Kurt held his arm out to her as he inched closer, eventually she looked up at him, meeting his gaze with her own red shot eyes. Heavy trails from her tears streaked over her cheeks, no make up coloured those trails, which from what Kurt had been told was something that all women were thankful for. Despite now looking at him her hands still trightly gripped the strap of her Medkit. Logan: I'm here........you're safe. Slowly releasing her grip on the medkit she reached barely touching Kurts hand before lunging at him, wrapping her arms around his chest. Hugging him as tightly before breaking down, her legs gave way collapsing her against him, her subtle perfume surrounding him. Avae: Kurt...stars...thank you....I thought I was going to die...::She broke down crying openly and shivering against him:: Logan: Ssshhhhh….. Its ok, you didn't Avae: I wish...::sobs:: I wasn't.... ::sobs:: s... so..weak.. ::sobs:: Logan: Your not Avae: I...I am! ::She openly cried against his chest. Her fingers tightly gripping his armor as if she were about to fall off a cliff:: I.I...they're...not...even real...and I can't...handle...it.. Logan oO Not real … what is she talking about .Oo Despite the urgency of being boarded and not needing to be holed up in a Science lab when all hell was breaking loose. One other thing he had learned both from the hard way and from others that had been equally tested was, the husbandry of resources. The ship would always need Medical staff and there was a good one in front of him, getting her back in the 'Fight' as it were was in it's way far more important than getting his Rifle back in the action. That and despite anything else that may have been happening he couldn't leave her like this, no matter what. Logan: Your hardly weak, back home my teacher asked me what did I want to be. And i told him that I want to be the best, not good or great but the best. He looked at me straight in the eye and told me that if I wanted to be the best then I needed to learn how to heal. Because only when I knew that would I be what I wanted because there the best of us. Not those of us that shoot things but those who put us back together again, and I know that first hand. She slowly stood herself upright slightly away from him her hair a complete mess of escaping strands, the medkit still slung over her shoulder, but resting up against her back. Avae: Thank..thank you...I know you're...just doing your job...but I'm sorry...you had to come rescue someone you hate. ::She stared down at her hands, which still clung to him as if refusing to let him go:: Logan: Hate you ? The Beautiful Antosian glanced down at the Breen behind him, as she did her face crumpled tears flowing one more. In one respect the irony of this bit hard , all this time he had tried to keep her from such pain yet here she was having it all the same. Avae: I hate...being so weak.... A small sigh escaped him full of sadness at feelings the Lavender haired Nurse was having as she gripped tightly to his armoured vest. Logan: Wyla…. Once again she failed to move as he used her name, brushing hair from her face Kurt then slipped a finger under her chin and lifted her head up till they were eye to eye again. Logan: What is there to hate about you..why do you think I hate you ? Avae: Response Logan:: Shaking his head slowly:: Its not hate Wyla … I've been protecting you since we first met. Taking a deep breath he steadying the voice in his head that wanted to speak, now was not the time there never would be the time for that. No despite any personal feelings he must look at the best course for the Ship and its crew only, they were what mattered the only things that did. Covering her hands with his, for a second he marveled at the smoothness of her skin. Logan: I thought Solana may have talked to you but this is my life ::Looking briefly at the Breen still laying by the door:: That will be me at some point in time, an hour from now, tonight, tomorrow morning two days from now. I don't know but one day it will be, and I've been protecting you from that. Avae: Response Logan: I've seen what it can do to people waiting for that day to come, or dealing with it when it does. And that's not what you need in your future, and I would never give that to you. Avae: Response Logan: No there's plenty of others out there that can make you happier without the ….sheer risk. The voice in his head grew louder as did the want to just scoop her up and just hold her, battling against that wasn't helped by the impact he took from the Forcefield, combined his head was now pounding. Logan: And I admit that it wasn't the most clear indicator but I gave you that watch so you'd know someone was looking out for you. Captain Kurt Logan Marine Officer USS Atlantis, NCC-74682 E239203KLO7
  20. I really loved the JP below. The three of them really did a stand-up job of setting the scene for the Embassy's transition to the Thor's first mission. Really well executed writing which gave a great "cinematic" set piece to the send off. I kept seeing slow sweeping shots of this great starship sliding through space in my mind's eye. Well done gents!
  21. ((Corridor, USS Atlantis)) {{Day 15 of Shoreleave }} Dermont found himself fidgeting with the pips on his collar as he walked his way through the corridor. He would never admit it, but there was a part of him that was a bit self-conscious. All of the ensigns that joined the ship around the same time as him were all Lieutenant Commanders and some of the senior-most leadership on board the Atlantis. And all of the people he still considered the “new guys” were mostly the same rank as he was. It stung a bit. Dermont: oO Wait a minute there, Valin. Aren’t ya the man tellin’ em time and time again that ya didn’t want any more responsibility? That man that bailed on ‘is counselin’ sessions, throwin’ stuff ‘bout the Engineerin’ Bay, and constantly pawned off yer department reports ta Yelchin and Kiliak? Oo Also Dermont: oO Shaddup Oo Logic had no place in a frustrated man’s head. He grunted a bit to himself and headed into sickbay. ((Sickbay Complex, USS Atlantis)) Though she was still feeling out of sorts, she was glad to be off of the suppressants. They’d given her a fair few nasty headaches. The other symptoms had begun to fade within a day or two and for the first time since returning from Valcaria, she was able to focus without that nagging itch under her skin flaring up just enough to make her want to toss a PADD at a monitor. After a few days on medical leave, she was more behind than she would have liked. She hadn’t completely finished her mission report on the cadmium poisoning on Valcaria. Between how her own exposure had flared up her asthma followed by her unexpected first season, her focus just hadn’t been sharp enough. She’d needed to request an extension from the Captain due to extenuating circumstances. Taking a sip of her specially ordered and specially brewed Al-Leyan kievlan coffee, she entered another note into the PADD in her hand. However, the sound of the doors opening caught her attention and she set both the PADD and the coffee down to greet the new arrival. Journs: ::smiles:: Hi. What can I do for you? Dermont: ::not smiling:: Apparently, when ye’ve been out n’ ‘bout as long as I ‘ave, ye’ve got ta have the doc tell ‘em yer good ta go before resumin’ duties. Journs: ::nods and motions to one of the biobeds:: If you’ll hop up on one of the beds, I’ll be with you in a moment. Dermont: O’course. As the man made himself comfortable, she turned on her heel and took two steps to receive a medical tricorder sitting on a tray and a PADD to look up his records. Journs: ::pauses:: Valin Dermont, right? Dermont: Yes ma’am. Been a bit since we’ve seen each other. Journs: ::nods and smiles:: It has. You were on the bridge the first day I came aboard. Dermont nodded at that comment. Indeed he was. And it didn’t take a telepath to know what was going on in his dear friend Raga’s mind when she had first stepped off the turbolift. Mr. Heartbreak seeing another Al-leyan on board? While Raga was no doubt seeing stars, Dermont was seeing the doctor for what see was truly going to be. Drama. Of course, then he was shipped out and away. So who knows what series of unfortunate events had happened since then. Dermont: Yes ma’am, I was. Ya don’t tend ta forget seein’ another Al-leyan come on board. Two on a single starship? Yer more likely ta see a stable trinary star system. Journs: ::smiles and nods:: Yes, I admit I was surprised myself. Dermont: I’m sure it’s chance beyond chance, really. Ya just happened ta arrive on a ship whose second officer is Toryn Raga. Anyway, get yer scannin’ done so I can see what in the hell Kiliak’s done with ma engines. She arched an eyebrow at the man, recalling how he’d grumbled with Toryn on the bridge that day. She’d seen plenty of his type even with so few years in Starfleet under her belt. From what she could tell, he was more bark than bite and mostly grumbled for the sake of it. Journs: My “scanning” requires you to sit still and be patient, Lieutenant. Dermont: oO Oh, a hint of a back bone in there, eh? Oo Dermont on the best of days tolerated doctors as he was not so stupid as to dismiss their value. He also happened to have little patience for those who would bring drama or pain to those he considered his. Engineering was his, this ship was his. Raga was his friend. Hell, Serala was his...friend? I mean he was certain she was not an enemy. He was still pretty sure Stevok mind-whammied her anyway. Dermont: oO Point ‘ere is that Journs was both doc and someone who could prob’ly bring ‘ole ‘eaps o’ drama down on the lad. Oo Dermont: You and I barely know each other, lass. I just want ya ta check out mah knee and make sure mah ‘earts still tickin’. But know I’ve got a soft spot fer the Commander and all I’m sayin’ is he doesn’t need no damnable drama from home. Journs: ::expression softens and murmurs:: I know. Rest assured I don’t intend to bring any if I can help it. There were plenty of angles it could come from, but she had a feeling she knew what Valin was implying. Toryn wasn’t a typical Al-Leyan and a more traditional Al-Leyan woman would have quite possibly sent a message back to the Council by now about Toryn’s intimate involvement with an outsider and his dangerous, reckless disregard for his own life. However, she was far from a typical Al-Leyan herself. Dermont: That’s good ta hear, doctor. Branches be damned. The lad’s choices are the lad’s own to make. ::He gave a sideways glance at the doctor.:: Even if some would consider them mistakes... Journs: ::pauses:: While I can’t make any promises about things that are out of my control, I can promise that I’m not here to police anything Toryn does or says in the process of fulfilling his duties to this ship nor am I here to pass judgment on any personal moral or ethical choices he makes. Dermont simply nods. Another Al-leyan corrupted by the Federation ideals then, eh? Once you see how bigotry and oppression look from the other side, it’s hard to stay true to the fantasy you were raised in. Journs: ::lips tighten:: Not that it’s your business, but I love Toryn and it would tear me to pieces if he were hurt in any way. That made the engineer stiffen upon hearing. Love? She loved Toryn? What in the blazes had happened in the last few months? Love?! Sure, he knew with Al-Leyan culture they might naturally gravitate toward one another, but what kind of ridiculousness was she spouting about love? Dermont: Wait now just a tad bit there, lass. Those words are pretty damned powerful. Love? Ye’ve been ‘ere fer a few months and now suddenly ya get ta throw ‘round that word? It wasn’t an unexpected reaction. Back home, it wasn’t a word that was ever used with any serious intent. Certainly Al-Leyans experienced love...but not in the same way as other cultures. Most Al-Leyan relationships were fleeting, some lasting a few months and others not even a season. There were a decent number who stayed with a partner for years, but these weren’t very common. The older engineer’s voice began to raise as his voice turned to a scowl. Dermont: Doctor...I know Al-leyans are a little loose when it comes ta the idea of sexual encounters, but let me assure ya, there’s a lot more ta love than that! Do you ‘ave any idea ‘ow many times that lad’s ‘ad his soul crushed due to romantic attachments!? Dermont: oO Yer a right [...], Valin… Oo The man’s raised voice didn’t phase her. After dealing with her father’s soul-wrenching silence and lack of empathy, a loud voice wouldn’t rattle her. Journs: ::meets his gaze:: I respect that you are Toryn’s friend and I respect that you’re just looking to protect him. I honestly hope that with time, you see that Toryn isn’t just a game to me. The engineer frowned as the woman didn’t flinch while he raised his voice. Intimidating people by yelling a Dermont trademark and he was unsure of how to deal with it. Usually people left his immediate vicinity or started shouting back. He gave the doctor a level stare. Journs: I’m not looking for a minute flirtation. ::lips tighten:: If anything, I’m afraid that Toryn will find someone else and I’ll be left behind. As I said to Captain Logan, where he goes, I go, even if that means walking into the fire with him and getting burned by it. There’s not a thing in this universe that I wouldn’t endure for him. oO I think she might mean it…what in the ‘ell. Oo Dermont: Doctor, yer the most unAl-leyan Al-leyan that I’ve met. I’ve studied a bit o’ your culture….tryin’ ta understand Toryn and ‘is clear bouts of self-loathin’ that ‘e goes through. I think I’ve got the nail on the ‘ead with ‘is idea of “cultural contamination.” ::he nearly spat the words.:: I am glad someone makes ‘im ‘appy. She relaxed some, sensing the change in the man’s tone, a slight smile crossing her lips. Any other Al-Leyan would have been insulted. But a part of her took it as a compliment. Her years away from home, it seemed, were only reinforcing the idea that conformity wasn’t everything. Though she knew not all of her friends here understood her beliefs and values, she was grateful that they accepted her willingly in spite of them. Journs: ::gaze drops and she nods, then murmurs:: I try. Dermont puts up a hand to ward off any lovey-dovey much she might try to keep peddling his way. He stood up, despite his check-up not being complete. Dermont: Ye’ll think I’m an [...] fer it...and maybe I am. It is clear by the way ya talk you two are in love. But let’s give it a few more months before ya try and move it along, eh? Let’s make sure he loves ya fer you...and not just because ya ‘appen ta be the only “culturally acceptable” choice on the ship, eh? The comment stung and it struck at her greatest fear. She was certain he hadn’t meant to insult or hurt her. He was just looking out for his friend. It was something they had in common and was what made it easier for her to push aside the emotional reaction and take what he was saying at face value. She didn’t need his approval. She didn’t need anyone’s. She and Toryn were adults and could engage in a relationship as they saw fit. It was their responsibility to sort through their problems, not everyone else’s. If they couldn’t figure things out without bringing in a third party that didn’t even close to know the more intimate details and nuances of their relationship, they shouldn’t be in one together in the first place. With that he spun on his heels and headed towards the door. He’d get cleared by somebody else at a later time. Something was telling Dermont he might have just worn out his welcome. Dermont: oO Lad jumps so fast...someone’s gotta make sure it’s the real damn thing… Oo Still Dermont: oO And it just ‘as ta be you, eh Valin? Oo He frowned to himself, clenching his fists at his own loud-mouth and headed through the door. She stared after him for a long moment. Only when she glanced down at the tricorder in her hand did she realize they hadn’t finished his appointment. A slight smile crossed her lips in spite of the mild discomfort she was now feeling in the aftermath of what had been a very awkward conversation. It was clear Toryn had the respect and affection of many, including the gruff engineer. That made her even more determined to consciously work to keep from hurting Toryn. Today had been another hurdle in the battle she was waging with herself over whether this was the right thing. There were forces threatening to tear them apart, but she was coming to realize that love wasn’t an obligation, but a choice...a choice that was made consciously every day in spite of the hardships. A choice she’d continue to make each day, no matter what came their way. --- ================= Lieutenant Valin Dermont Engineer USS Atlantis A239410VD0 & Lieutenant Ishkabela Journs Medical Officer USS Atlantis, NCC-74682 I238110RH0
  22. The junior officers hold the founding meeting of the JOPA (Junior Officer Protection Association) in this epic joint point! I like it for three reasons. First, the JOPA is a neat conceit to get newly assigned junior officers together and bond. Second, the joint post itself gets the characters and their backgrounds introduced (super helpful OOC wise). Third, the collaboration and organisation that has gone into making this post happen is neat! ((Kofi Bar Patio, Duronis II)) The 32-year-old man stood next to a large wicker table with seats for eight. The view was gorgeous, overlooking sun-kissed beaches on the waterfront. The sun, low in the sky this late in the afternoon, beamed over the sand, stretching for miles in either direction along the coast. Beachgoers could be seen enjoying themselves in the water just a hundred meters away. The ocean breeze swept across the patio. Wes’ short-sleeved shirt, white with a black grid pattern on it, rippled in the light breeze. He wore it unbuttoned with a tight-fitting dark green T-shirt underneath and beige shorts. The wind brushed at the edges of the loose clothing. Having encouraged the other officers to come relaxed, he had dressed for the warm sunny weather. The scent of the saltwater and the sea was relaxing, and Wes sat down at the table to wait for the rest of the junior officers to arrive. Seeing the first walking through the interior of the half restaurant half club, Wes waved and called out. Greaves: Out here on the patio. The weather is perfect to sit outside! Dar walked out onto the patio and gave Greaves a subtle wave back with a smile. Dar: The weather is almost perfection and thank you for inviting me. Greaves: Of course! The whole point of this shindig is to get all of us together. The filthy senior officers are no match for a cohesive group of us! She grabbed a chair and sat down as the others began to arrive, she was curious as to what this was about. She had chosen to wear a loose-fitting pair of beige slacks and a maroon sleeveless vest with a pair of sandals, she was glad to see she was not overdressed. Wes looked around and didn’t see anyone else approaching yet, so he decided to try and carry on a conversation. He was never great at small talk. Put him in a big group setting, and he could joke and vibe with the best of them. One on one and Wes just stumbled over his words and felt awkward. Greaves: oO No better way to get better with small talk than to do it! Oo So, I know we met once already right before the mission, but it was brief and we all were busy. To try again, I’m Wes Greaves. You seem a little old to be a junior Ensign. Join Starfleet late, or were you prior-enlisted? Dar couldn’t help but chuckle at Greaves candid and very direct approach to his question pertaining to her age and she knew that it was bound to be only a matter of time before someone mentioned it. Dar: Well, yes I am a bit more seasoned than the rest and yes I was enlisted before...a few years back but I returned to Bajor to work with the government. As she spoke she peered up seeing the familiar stoic form of Dr Alieth approached. Alieth arrived at the meeting place neither too early nor too late, but just when she intended to. For the occasion, she had chosen to dress in civilian clothes, something she rarely did since she had joined Starfleet. The young Vulcan wore a high-collared tunic that stretched to the floor, producing a soft rustle with every move. It was a traditional garment of multiple shades of gray and copper, which left only her face and hands exposed, which she was able to conceal within the wide sleeves. Or, that she would do so if it had not been for the tray she carried on her hands. Over it was a steaming teapot and half a dozen minute cups. Alieth: Mister Greaves, Miss Dar. :: She said as a greeting while she placed her load on the table. :: Is everyone here? Wes smiled as the Vulcan appeared on the patio with tea. He had been drinking the stuff Alieth had introduced him to every morning along with his coffee and he had finally begun getting used to the shock of the taste and the caffeine-like energy it gave him. Greaves: Alieth, glad you could make it. And with tea even! Is it the kind of tea I think it is? Alieth: :: Nodding solemnly. :: Indeed, I considered that it might be a suitable method to...:: She remained silent for a second, in search of the proper Terran proverb. :: ... to break the ice. Greaves: Great idea! I could use a pick-me-up. Pour me a cup? Alieth: By all means. The Vulcan took a seat in one of the vacant chairs amidst a flurry of greyish fabric. When she finally settled down on the seat and began to pour a couple of minute cups of the sour-smelling liquid, her outfit had arranged itself around her in such fashion that it seemed as disciplined and stoic as the doctor herself. Alieth pushed one of the cups towards Wes and took another for herself, cradling in between her slender finger to warm her hands. The weather was mild for the first time since they had arrived to the planet, the heat of the twin suns were almost agreeable. The nearby beach was, however, disconcerting to the Vulcan: the combination of the familiar sands with the sight of the massive body of water and the salty smell it produced was alien to her, no matter how many times she experienced it. Dar watched Alieth as she seemed to be agreeing with the current mood that was being set by the table. It was rather relaxing here on the patio, the weather was fine, the sun was warm and the company did seem agreeable. Dar: Anymore to come still? She took a sip of her coffee as she waited for Wes to respond. Greaves: Looks like we’re still missing a couple of the others … :: He paused noticing another Starfleet Officer. :: Oh wait, it looks like … Wilkins just got here too. Tara made her way to the table where she saw two people already sitting down. She knew the Vulcan medical officer, but she recognized Wes from when they had lunch earlier. Tara was holding a bowl of mixed fruit as she sat down with the three of them. She was dressed informally with some form-fitting pants that went down to her ankle and a top that had short sleeves with a dropping neckline. Tara: Thank you for inviting us here Wes, and please call me Tara. We’re off duty now. Greaves: Long time no-see Tara :: Winking. :: Good to see you again. Tara: Thank you for lunch earlier. It was lovely. Greaves: o0 Okay, was she taking that wink out of context? Oo I had a good time too. It’s been nice to have some down time to meet up with people after that mission. Alieth poured a couple more cups, pushing them in front of the other women. Then the Vulcan took care of her own tiny teacup and took a small sip. Alieth: I realize we have not had the opportunity to formally introduce ourselves. :: Turning slightly to face the Trill. :: I'm Doctor Alieth, Ensign Wilkins, I presume? Tara: That’s correct. I think we met briefly when the shuttle went down. Alieth: :: Nodding soberly. :: I have been unable to visit the science tower to retrieve the residual anaesthetic I left on your facility. I hope that I have not caused you any inconvenience. Tara: No inconvenience at all. Honestly, I haven’t been in the science tower myself. I’ve been enjoying my down time instead of working. She gave Wilkins a smile and a slight nod. Dar: Ensign Dar Elandra, I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting yet. At that moment another Vulcan approached the table. Dar: oO How many Vulcan officers are here?Oo Dar offered him a curt but polite smile as she took another sip of her coffee. Greaves: :: Noticing the Vulcan approaching the table. :: And last but not least, here’s Sirok. Sirok joined the group, wearing a long gray Vulcan-style robe, it was a sober and elaborately manufactured garment. The Vulcan engineer was looking out over the beach more than the people around him. The weather seemed suitable for such a meeting. At the academy he used to skip that kind of reunions, always having something to study or practice on. Since he had arrived at the embassy he had always had something to do and was partly there on the recommendation of his superior officer. But also he found it logical to know the officers he was going to work with, and for emotional beings it was useful to create bonds to do their job. As he approached them he saluted by bowing his head slightly. He went over to the table and pulled up a chair to sit down. In a way, Sirok moved as he spoke in a robotic way. His way of suppressing feelings was reflected in everything he did. Greaves: Well looks like we’re all here finally. Let’s get sta.... As Wes announced the arrival of all parties, he was interrupted by a short red-headed waitress who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Sami: Hello everyone, welcome to the Kofi Bar. My name is Sami and I’ll be taking care of you all today. I see that you’ve gotten tea and fruit already. Can I get anyone started with some more drinks or appetizers? At the mention of food, Wes’ stomach growled in protest for the third time that day. Greaves: Getting started can wait, let’s get drinks and some food. :: Half turning in his chair toward the waitress. :: I’d like a Jack and Coke please, and a plate of vegetarian :: winking at Alieth. :: nachos for the table. Wes offered a beaming smile to the waitress and turned toward the rest of the gathered officers to let them order. Alieth bowed her head to the deference the Marine showed to Vulcan food preferences. Sirok was going to try the tea that Alieth brought, but part of the gathering ritual seemed to consist of consuming products from the place where they had gathered. Sirok: Spice tea, if you do not have one, a juice of your choice. Dar: Another cup of coffee, black no sugar and no milk. Tara: A glass of your best white wine, please. Alieth: Plomeek tea :: She tilted her head to the side before adding. :: Black coffee if it is not available. A drink native to the host's home world sounded like a fitting accompaniment to the gathering. Sami arrived shortly after with the first round of orders. The drinks were distributed around the table efficiently, while the woman never blurred the wide smile painted across her face. When all the refreshments had been served in front of the guests, the chirpy Laudean retraced the short journey to the counter and then came back with some appetisers. Alieth blinked with astonishment at what was in front of her. It was a sort of sliced... something... roughly triangular, covered with a thick, green, radioactive-looking sauce. On one side of the plate there was a handful of dark, steaming beans, and on the other a pile of carefully cut vegetables, among which the Vulcan could recognize onions, tomatoes, and various types of peppers. The dish itself did not seem intimidating, but the absence of instruments to consume it was frankly disturbing. Alieth stared at the plate for 5.44 seconds before turning to the waitress. Alieth: Provide me with a set of chopsticks. :: Looking at Sirok. :: Preferably two sets. Sirok nodded, not as a sign of gratitude; that was a feeling. He simply confirmed to Alieth that he wanted a pair of chopsticks, as most Vulcans try not to touch food, so it was a good solution to follow the ritual of sharing food in a group and not having to touch it with your hands. Wes leaned back in his chair. As the waitress departed again to fill everyone’s orders, the warm afternoon sun was beginning to peak under the awning over the patio. In a matter of moments the table was bathed in direct sunlight. Greaves: Okay. :: With emphasis on the word. :: Now let’s get started. The human paused to take a sip of the tea Alieth had brought. Greaves: So, I know I laid it out in the e-mail, but the JOPA is an informal organization for all of us junior officers to get together. The target audience is the first two ranks of officers. Ensigns and Junior Grades for you folks. Second and First Lieutenants for us in the Marines. Really the goal is to share ideas, share professional education amongst each other, let off steam from work, and have fun together to build camaraderie. Wes took another sip of his tea and looked around for the waitress, hoping some food was coming soon. Greaves: Today, I’d like us to get to know each other a little better, decide how formally we’d like to run the JOPA, and then have some fun together. This is as good of a place as any. So to start, let’s introduce ourselves. I’ll start. I’m Wes Greaves. I’m from Seattle Washington on Earth. I joined the Starfleet Marines when I was 18, became a combat engineer as an enlisted man, and eventually decided to become an officer. Not married, no kids, and I’m an only child. Not much family to speak of, but both of my parents are still alive and living happily back on Earth. In my free time, I love to run, read, and I dabble in photography. Mainly nature and landscapes. :: Pausing. ::. And that’s me. Anyone else care to share? Alieth: My name is Alieth, daughter of Saros and N'Keth. I am a native of Chi-ree, in Xial province, in Vulcan :: Probably that would tell little to the non-Vulcans present, after all Xial was the province of the planet least familiar to off-worlders. :: I started my training at the VSA before moving to San Francisco, where I graduated from the Starfleet Medical Academy. Alieth took a second to compile the data that Wes provided before she continued following his example. Alieth: My parents are alive and in a satisfactory state of health. I have an older sister and a younger brother. My current marital status is un-bonded. The Vulcan took another pause, considering what part of her daily activities might be considered as recreational by human standards. Once she found a suitable activity, she resumed her speech. Alieth: Outside the medical centre, I care for lesser beings whose health has been compromised. And I prune plants. :: She added eventually, in the light of the latest developments. :: Dar listened to the introductions as they went around first Wes, then Alieth and now it was her turn. She was quite a bit older than most of them and she was sure that most of them knew about the history of Bajor, it was part of the Starfleet syllabus after all. Dar: My name is Elandra, Dar is my, as you terrans would call it, surname. In Bajoran culture it is always said first then the name anyways I digress. I was born on Bajor in a Cardassian Internment Camp, Batal which was liberated by Bajoran resistance fighters when I was 11. She took a sip of her coffee as she gave the others a few minutes to process what she was telling them. Dar: Long story short I joined the resistance at 16 fought till Cardassia withdrew, joined the Bajoran Military, when the Dominon war started I decided to join Starfleet. :: She paused. :: Well that was a few years back I took a long break after my son was born and returned to Bajor to raise him. Well he’s older now and here I am. She took another long swig of her coffee waiting for the next person to speak. Tara: Hello my name is Tara Wilkins. Wilkins is my family name. If I was joined, which I am not, I would be taking on the symbiont’s name as my last name. I grew up in Gheryzan located on Trill. I studied science at Manev University, which is also located on Trill. I then went to Earth where I was a doctoral student in Xenology at Princeton University. I joined Starfleet when I was twenty-six-years-old. I was placed in the six-week Starfleet Academy Preparatory Program. I joined Starfleet because I wanted to explore the universe. Go where no one has gone before. That type of thing. Tara popped a grape in her mouth. While the others were completing their presentation, Sirok tasted his drink. As he assumed they didn't have the Vulcan drink so they brought him the juice. He didn't know its precedence but it seemed appropriate. And in the time that the others had been presenting themselves Sami had been able to bring the chopsticks and could taste that traditional food. He did not find it so adequate. Sirok: I am Sirok son of S'Vek and T'Lil. I was born in the region of Kyr on the planet Vulcan. :: Unlike Alieth's parents his family was known in certain areas of Vulcan society, especially in the rich region of Kyr. :: I have an older brother and I am un-bonded. Sirok: As a complement to my work activities, I practice suus mahna to maintain my physical condition and I draw by hand mechanical pieces as a method of concentration and memory improvement. Alieth: :: Tilting her head to the left. :: I had the knowledge that Osu S'Vec of Kyr had only one male progeny, his heir Sopeg. Sirok: My parents decided to keep me out of public life. Alieth: A decidedly unusual arrangement. Sirok: My brother is more than enough to take the lead of the family in the future, which has allowed me to develop my career in Starfleet. Alieth nodded at that explanation. It was a logical conclusion, albeit one that did not fully justify why one of Kyr's most prominent families had concealed the existence of one of its members for several decades. However, prying was a decidedly un-Vulcan behaviour, so she refrained from further inquiries. While the group went through introductions Wes grabbed a small plate and began piling some of the Nachos onto it. The Vulcans’ earlier request for chopsticks had been worth a good laugh to Wes, but he kept his amusement to himself. Biting into the first chip, Wes listened as Sirok finished up. He took a sip of his drink before addressing the group again. Greaves: Great! Good to get to know everyone a little better. On to more business. I figure we have two things we should all agree on for the group. First, how do we want to run the JOPA? I’ve seen things be satirically formal, or just an informal gathering. Personally I have my preference, but I won’t taint the conversation. What do you all think? Alieth took the chopsticks that Sami had supplied her with, split them up with the elegance that came with custom, and guided them to the plate in the centre of the table. She tried to catch one of the triangles sunk in the sauce but despite all her skill the edge cracked, leaving her with nothing between the chopsticks but thin air. Before she attempted a second try, she opted to answer the Marine. Alieth: Formal or informal makes no difference for me. :: Looking at her table partners. :: I delegate that decision onto you. With no more to add at this time, she focused again on attempting to catch one of the triangles. After five rounds, her endeavours remained largely fruitless. Dar listened to everyone, placing her now empty coffee cup down on the table before her she stretched a little in her chair. While they spoke she dished a plate of the nachos for herself. She couldn’t recall ever having tasted them before but she definitely smelled something spicy. Sirok: Perhaps a more formal structure will serve to set the ground rules and once established we can act more out of habits. It seemed to Sirok the most logical way to act with emotional beings. If the norm became a habit, it would be easier for them to maintain a basic structure. After talking, he continued to taste the juice that had been brought to him. Tara: I would rather keep it informal myself. Something a little laid back, so we can unwind. Greaves: Well if we do things formally we should identify positions for the group. A senior member as the leader, and set some recurring times for a get together. We could even go so far as to call the group to order, have an agenda and the such. Wes took another bite of the dripping nachos from his plate. He realized his mistake too late however, as he hadn’t finished his thought. There was a brief pause of indecisiveness, and eventually the man just spoke through a mouthful of food. Greaves: Personally, I prefer informal. He swallowed the last of the chip in his mouth and followed it up with a sip of his drink. Greaves: Ultimately, majority rules. Looks like our Vulcan comrades prefer a formal arrangement. :: Playful smirk toward Sirok and Alieth. :: And myself and Tara prefer informal get-togethers. Dar, you’re the tie breaker. What do you think? Dar watched Greaves shovel the nachos and speak through them, trying not to reveal the amused expression that was threatening to break free from her face. Sitting up a little straighter, a silence for a moment before she spoke. She was now regretting not having ordered. Dar: I would have to agree on a more informal structure, too many head chefs can sour the dough. She picked up a fork, forgoing the fingers and chopsticks the others seemed to opt to eat and took a mouth full of the nacho’s, the texture was different but it was nice, surprisingly so. Crunchy and spicy...she paused...a little too spicy. Coughing slightly, she swallowed quickly as the spice from what she could only assume was chillies. Alieth: So this is done. :: The Vulcan sentenced when Dar leaned the election towards one of the options. :: Greaves: :: Nodding. :: So that’s settled then. The next thing are traditions and the character of the JOPA. This is unique to our group and really extends to whatever we come up with and all agree on. What kind of ideas do you all have for things we can do within the JOPA? Traditions, rituals, rights of passage, unique roles within the group, etcetera. It’s all on the table. What do you got? Sirok: If the objective is to help junior officers, any officer who is a junior ensign or lieutenant should be able to join the association. By the same token, anyone who becomes a senior officer would leave the association. Alieth nodded at the other Vulcan's contribution before she spoke. Alieth: Given the private and protective nature of this association in regard with other Junior Officers, it is essential to establish confidentiality of what happens or is shared in these meetings. The minute doctor took a moment to re-word it in a more concise manner. Alieth: The first rule of JOPA is: you do not talk about JOPA. The second rule of JOPA is: you DO NOT talk about what happens in the JOPA. Tara: This is all new to me. I was thinking the main thing about JOPA was for us to share ideas and vent our frustrations. I never thought about it being ritualistic. I guess I was looking at it as being just a relaxing place to unwind and bond with each other. Greaves: In my mind the traditions or little rituals are more of a thing to bond us together, build camaraderie, and whatnot. I was thinking more like little rites of passage as new members join us and the senior members are promoted out of the group. Little jokes to play on each other to break the ice and keep us engaged. The idea is all in good fun. Here’s a thought, as a send-off to officers promoted out of the group, we get together and roast them as the send-off. Tara: I don’t know what you mean by roasting them. Do you plan on cooking them or something? Alieth acquiesced to the Trill's words. Baking one of their peers didn't seem like an optimal methodology for building camaraderie. With a mouthful of whiskey and cola in his mouth, Wes nearly choked on his laughter. It took several seconds for the unpleasant burning sensation of alcohol in his nostrils to subside before he spoke. Greaves: No, no. My apologies. It’s just an idiom. It means we get together and tell funny stories and jokes at their expense in good fun. A way to remember their exploits, contributions. Their successes, but mostly their failures. Tara: That sounds like that would be okay, but I don’t know about joking about someone’s failures that just seems so cruel. Alieth: Highlighting someone's faults and mistakes is an efficient basis for improvement and it is the duty of their peers to point out these deficiencies. I find it a satisfactory arrangement as a farewell ritual for the group. :: She tilted her head to the side. :: Moreover, I have noticed that the pointing out of faults and defects of one’s acquaintances is a sophisticated humoristic skill on Earth. You all could benefit from the advantages of humour in emotional beings. The Vulcan doctor took a sip of her tea and made another attempt to catch one of the green-sauce coated triangles. To her astonishment, this time she succeeded and finally got a taste of that "appetizer". She nibbled it thoroughly for a long minute. The taste was... foreign. Salty. And much more intense than what she was used to. She found it quite palatable. Once she had found the technique to catch the nachos with the chopsticks, Alieth repeated the process a couple more times, efficiently consuming half a dozen triangles in quick succession. Sirok listened carefully, social rituals were not something he was used to. He found the reason for ordering social behaviour, but the fewer of those rituals he had to satisfy, the more time he could spend on things he considered more important. Even though as a Starfleet officer he recognized what Teller was saying, it would help create camaraderie among emotional beings. Therefore the Vulcan did not have much more to add, so Sirok nodded in agreement with his companions, before taking another sip of his juice. Suddenly it seemed, Wes’ plate of nachos was empty and his glass of both tea and Jack and Coke were drained as well. The man blinked in surprise as he reached for another chip, only to find all of his refreshments already eaten. Looking to the larger plate of nachos, Wes was able to catch a glimpse of the final three chips being rapidly devoured by the chopstick wielding Vulcan woman. Wes took a mental snapshot of the moment as he found it wildly humorous. Greaves: Okay, so let me summarize. :: Counting on his fingers. :: One, we will be informal. No titles or rules of discourse. Two, we don’t mention the JOPA to anyone except members and we don’t talk about it openly. Three, all officers in the first two grades are invited to the group, and we kick out anyone who promotes to Lieutenant or Marine Captian. Four, before we kick someone out of the group, we gather to commemorate their accomplishments and failures, preferably in a humorous method. And finally, the purpose of the JOPA is to share professional knowledge, build camaraderie, and decompress as peers. Wes looked about the table, making brief eye contact with each Ensign at the table. Greaves: Well that sounds like a successful meeting of the JOPA. I hereby rule this meeting adjourned! Now, who wants to explore the city and get some drinks? [End Scene.] JP Written By: 2nd Lieutenant Wes Greaves Marine Officer Embassy of Duronis II/USS Thor E239702WG0 Ensign Alieth Medical Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 Author ID number: E239702A10 Ensign Tara Wilkins Science Officer Duronis II Embassy & Support Flotilla E239702TW0 Ensign Dar Elandra Security Officer Duronis II Embassy/USS Thunder-A C237904DE0 Ensign Sirok Engineering Officer Embassy of Duronis II/USS Thor E239702S10
  23. ((StarBase 118 – Academy Campus Green)) ::Romyana was sitting on a bench enjoying the view across the Academy green. She was told she would be met here by someone to escort her to her new duty post. She already knew she would be staying on the Star Base instead of speeding off on a star ship, but that did not make her any less exited. Quietly Romyana reminisced about the unique experience of the Final Exam that she had completed two days ago. At the time she was convinced she had failed, but to her delight she passed and with a pretty good grade too!:: Dal: Ensign Casparian? I am Commander Ishreth Dal. Welcome to StarBase 118, Ensign. ::She turned her head to see who had called for her. An Andorian man wearing a Marine green Starfleet uniform and three pips on his collar, ranking him Commander.:: Casparian: Sir. ::as per the training that was systematically drilled into each Cadet in the first weeks of the Academy, she stood to attention when addressed by an officer:: Thank you Sir. I am looking forward to meet the rest of the crew. ::Romyana's eyes flickered from the Andorian's eyes to his antennae and back. When she realised how silly this must look, she tried to control it and focus on the Commanders eyes, but each time the antennae moved she couldn't help but looking at them.:: Dal: We are very pleased to have you join our senior staff. I am here to bring you up to date on the current mission our crew is working on as well as bring you to meet Lt Commander German Galven, our Chief of science. Casparian: Yes, Sir. Please lead the way. ::Romyana was nervous so her answers were brief, but she made an effort to sound strong and confident. This came easy to her as she had a relatively low and carrying voice for a human woman. An excellent voice to shout orders with, her father once said.:: Dal: Commander Galven’s team is working on an antidote to a deadly poison known as Silicon Platinochloride. When inhaled it destroys the membranes of blood cells, causing terrible internal bleeding. ::He drew in a breath, antennae curling downwards:: Have you heard of this chemical before? Casparian: No, I can't say I have. It sounds like a horrible way to-- ::she let her sentence trail off:: Is it lethal to humanoids? ::Romyana visualised the effect of the chemical on the human body. Impressions of her lungs filling up with blood, gasping for breath and finally slowly suffocating in her own blood shot through her thoughts. It sent shivers up her spine.:: Dal: Yes, it is known as Death Fog. ::he tipped his head slightly as they entered the lift and he keyed in the correct deck.:: It is illegal in the sector. Heavily illegal in the Klingon Empire as it has a particularly strong effect on Klingons. Casparian: Hm, interesting. ::she nodded thoughtfully:: The Klingons would be especially grateful if Commander Galven and his team succeed. Are they close to finding the antidote? Dal: I am not sure where they are in their research, but I can try to answer any general questions you have. ::The turbolift came to a gentle halt and the door slid open. Romyana stepped forward but then came to an abrupt halt. She had never been here before, so she wasn't sure which direction to turn next.:: Casparian: Where do we go from here? Dal: To the left, come, I will show you. ::He waved her forward, walking quickly enough to be efficient but slowly enough that they could still easily converse.:: Casparian: Commander, I do have a question about the chemical actually. Where does it come from? Who has developed it? Dal: Originally it was a by-product of deuterium mining methods using old fashioned cobalt explosives. It does not naturally occur within the natural galaxy that we know of. The current poison is manufactured by criminals and refined to increase toxicity. ::His soft voice had a deep undercurrent of distaste. His expression was still quite calm – that was expected for higher rank Andorian clans that emoted with their annetnnae while generally keeping their facial expression blank. Ishreth had been raised with this tradition impressed upon him strongly, but he had also worked for two decades with non-Andorians and a bit of that had rubbed off. Every once in a while his lips would twitch or his brows would perk, but mainly his face stayed calm. His antennae however curled with a deep dismay and flexed for a few times like a massive frown. As they slowly relaxed he spoke again.:: Dal: Any other questions, Ensign? Casparian: No, Sir. No more questions for now. ::she gave him a quick almost apologetic smile and pushed her auburn shoulder long hair behind her ear.:: Dal: I’m sure Commander Galven will be able to give more insights, both scientific and otherwise. ((Cybernetic/Robotics laboratory & testing facility - 8th Level, Deck 529, Starbase 118)) ::When the sliding doors opened Romyana was positively surprised by the sight of the lab. It was not just any science lab, it was full of the latest technology. She had expected lots and lots of glass vials containing brightly coloured chemical substances, in an otherwise sterile room, but instead there were several robotic like creations and a multitude of machine parts scattered around the workbenches. She could see two people further in the back but her eyes now focussed on a Denobulan man approaching. He had a funny looking smirk on his face. He must be the Chief Science Officer that Dal was talking about earlier.:: Dal: Commander Galven, please meet Ensign Romyana Casparian. Ensign Casparian, Commander German Galven. ::He offered polite introductions.:: ::Romyana blushed as she listened to Dal introducing her. It had been Cadet Casparian for so long, that it was now strange to hear anyone call her Ensign and it would probably take a few weeks before she would really get used to that.:: Galven: ::grins:: Pleasure to meet you, ensign. I suspect the journey from the bottom of the base was a smooth ride and the Commander filled you in, yes? Casparian: Yes, Sir. Dal: I ran down the basic information on the Silicon Platinochloride. I will let you fill in the rest, Commander. Galven: ::nods:: Very well. ::moves to the side, then extends his hand outwards for her to walk more into the room:: Allow me to introduce you to a couple of other people. Lieutenant Junior Grade Karen Stendhal and our brilliant civilian scientist, Taelon. ::The Denobulan's smirk had now formed into a reassuring grin. Whilst Dal made to leave, Romyana used the moment to take everything in and she moved her head from left to right looking around the place like a child in a candy shop.:: ::Careful not to stumble over any of the Robotics scattered around the lab, she took some tentative steps towards the two other crewmembers.:: Casparian: Hello Lieutenant Stendhal, Mister Taelon. I am Romyana Casparian. Pleased to meet you. ::she paused shortly to take in the tall man's unique looks:: What are you working on there? ((OOC - Like I said before @Romyana Casparian, I'm very excited to see what you have to write because you've shown just from your first couple of post aboard Ops that you're a valuable member of the crew! Keep up that enthusiasm and infectious positive attitude!
  24. ((Sickbay Complex - Deck 5, USS Atlantis)) ((Time Index: First day of shore leave, 0700 Hours Ship’s Time.)) Being limited to touch telepathy meant that she couldn’t be sure what Journs had been thinking when their Antosian chief nurse had casually brought up her romantic feelings towards Commander Raga. However, based on facial expressions she had guessed that it was somewhere between “I’d rather discuss anything else” and “I’m about to jump into the nearest escape pod and go far away from here”. Either way, she was worried about making her fellow medical officer uncomfortable. G’Renn: I do apologize if Lieutenant Avae discussing it in front of me made you uncomfortable. Journs: ::pauses:: I tend to be fairly private about my intimate partners, but I’m not ashamed of it. We were just being careful about how many people knew until we could prove that our personal relationship wouldn’t interfere with our working relationship. The Columbia sickbay had been very light on gossip. Which made plenty of sense. Captain’s yeoman Rolla Haneer didn’t work in sickbay. Despite the ship gossip’s absence, there were still whispers of the latest events and relationships aboard the ship. For the most part, Anath had always tried to ignore them. G’Renn: I try to not get involved in anybody’s social life if they don’t want me to. You can keep as much or as little as your personal life out of sickbay gossip as you wish. So long as it doesn’t impact sickbay operations. Journs: ::nods:: I understand, ma’am. It was part of why Toryn and I have been making such an effort to keep our intimate life so discreet. We want to be judged by our professional attitudes rather than our personal ones. ::smiles wanly:: He and I have that in common it seems. G’Renn: ::She finished updating Journs’ chart.:: There’s only one thing I’ll say on the matter, and I’m sure you can guess what it is. It wasn’t an exact rule, but it was a common recommendation of medical ethics and one that she had always lived by. Feelings, even for a half-Vulcan versed in emotional suppression, could interfere with objective analysis. It was the reason that Savok had always received any medical treatment or medication that he needed from Doctor Giles on the Columbia. G’Renn: Treating our family members and our partners is almost never a good idea. It hurts objectivity and can prevent us from giving the care that needs to be given. And if you make a mistake… I’ve always left any medical care for Savok to other medical officers. I’d suggest you consider leaving any non-emergency care for Commander Raga to myself or one of the other medical officers. ::She paused and looked down at the PADD in her hands. Was she really about to ask what she was about to ask next?:: He hasn’t mentioned having a problem with me, has he? It had been a small detail that she’d barely picked up on, but she had noticed it nonetheless. And it had been bothering her ever since. If there was some issue she would like to know about it and try to remedy it right away. But it was also possible that she was just reading too much into things. Journs: ::pauses:: He hasn’t mentioned anything, no. G’Renn: It was when I was first beamed aboard the shuttle on Tibro. The commander seemed to tense up a little. After a second it was gone, but I did pick up on it. I didn’t know if it was just the stress of the mission or if I’d done something. Anath suspected that it could have something to do with her being half Klingon. To say that the Klingon side of her lineage had been unkind to the Al-Leyans would be a gross understatement. But she didn’t want to say that. Especially since she couldn’t be certain that it wasn’t something else that she had done. Just assuming all Al-Leyans had a problem with Klingons was just as wrong as someone judging her on no evidence but her forehead ridges. Journs: ::smiles wanly:: I wouldn’t take it personally. There’s been a good deal of bad blood between Al-Leyans and Klingons. For some, the biases are more deeply ingrained than others. Knowing what I do about Toryn, he would never transfer that bias to you personally. It’s likely an instinctive reaction to Klingons in general. So her suspicions had been more or less accurate. It was understandable, but still difficult to hear. G’Renn: It’s good to know that it’s only an instinctive reaction to only half of me. I take it you do not have a similar reaction? Journs: ::nods:: Given my medical background and what I’ve experienced in my life, I don’t hold the bias as much as others of my people who haven’t seen a different side to Klingons as I have. G’Renn: That’s good... She’d regretted asking already. The conversation had started awkwardly enough with a discussion of Lieutenant Journs’ relationships. Then it set sail on a collision course with the nasty subject of Al-Leyan/Klingon history and the prejudices created therein. Journs: I have the utmost respect for you...and not just because you’re my department head and my superior officer. You are clearly a person of strong moral character and integrity. That experience allows me to see past your physiology and into the core of who you are. That comment definitely earned a look of mild confusion bordering on disgust. She was still Klingon. Being half Klingon was something that had caused a lot of pain and upset for her, but it wasn’t some physiological defect that needed to be looked past. It was part of the essence of her being. She was a vegetarian doctor, but she also loved Klingon opera, brought a d’k tahg with her family seal on every assignment in her Stafleet career, and carried the name of a Klingon colonel and her great grandmother as her last name. G’Renn: I’m very glad to hear that. Journs: ::nods:: That’s why I’m certain Toryn feels the same way. ::smiles:: You and he are kindred souls in a way. You both put a lot of stock in honorable actions and you both care a great deal for the well being of others. ::pauses:: Feel free, to borrow a Human expression, take it worth a grain of salt. However, as someone who has seen the deeper parts of his mind-- The words were left to hang in the air for a moment. Anath didn’t need to ask for any clarification. G’Renn: It would be nice if there was nothing to look past in the physiology at all. I’m not just a Vulcan with unfortunate Klingon forehead ridges. ::She sighed and leaned against the wall near the biobed in frustration.:: Can’t fit in anywhere, can I? Journs: Response Questions of her “Klingonness” were bringing back some very upsetting memories from her past. When she was fourteen she had almost the opposite conversation with her father’s brother O’Trel. He had taken the opinion that despite looking like one she was not a real Klingon at all and that she should consider having the Klingon forehead ridges removed so as not to dishonor the rest of their species by association. G’Renn: Never accepted by the Klignons in the family as a hybrid freak. Too chaotic and emotional to fit in with the Vulcans. My behavior is seen as weird when it would be accepted from a full Vulcan. ::Pause:: And all that some people see are my forehead ridges. Journs: Response G’Renn: If you’ll excuse me, I have other patients to check on. Her voice was starting to break and she wanted to get out of the conversation as quickly as possible. Journs: Response Anath signed off on the record, put the PADD back next to the biobed, and walked away from the biobed. Rather than continuing her checks on the other patients she crossed sickbay, going past the other biobeds and the CMO’s office. She entered the empty morgue and took a deep breath. It was taking a concerted effort not to cry. The question of her own identity had always been a sore spot for her. What was she? A Klingon, a Vulcan, both, or neither? Sometimes she felt that she was at least mostly accepted as Vulcan. Then she was reminded of how her Vulcan demeanor and pointed ears were easily unnoticed, but her Klingon side was there for everyone she met to see. Almost everyone saw her as Klingon. Except for the Klingons, of course. Lieutenant Commander Anath G'Renn Chief Medical Officer, USS Atlantis A239402AG0
  25. @Jona ch'Ranni Fantastic job at writing for an NPC Slime Devil point of view post that showed the flip side to what's going on in our cavernous adventure! ((Dead Zone, Væron)) Vorl blinked her pupil-less eyes in the low light of the Cavehome. She had explored every centimeter of the place and knew right where everything should be without looking. Her two pronged fore-claws skitted on the rocky floor as she crept forward. It had been three cycles since the Change had occurred. She did not remember much of her life before the Change - only that her existence had been filled with caring for baser needs like food and procreation. Since that time - after being placed in the Cavehome - the Change had brought about many differences. She began to ponder her own existence, to plan, to learn. She had the sense that the Change was not a normal experience of her kind. She was blessed with a gift and she believed it was because of being brought to the Cavehome and because of the Sphere. Vorl gazed up at the Sphere of Life, its yellowish-green glow nearly matched the bioluminescent sacs along her crimson dorsal spine. She found the light and warmth strangely appealing. Vorl: oO It must be protected, it must be preserved. Oo Her head tendrils swayed at a new sound, the scraping of rocks and voices on the ledge above. It was a new sound and new often meant dangerous. She paused, listening for a few minutes as the sounds grew louder. She would not fail in protecting the Sphere. Vorl lowered her carapace to the floor and lay in wait. A blue-skinned prey animal lowered itself from a web into the Cavehome. Would she finally be able to use her new-found abilities to hunt a worthy prey? She inched toward the unsuspecting meal but a shout from above alerted the blue one to her hunt. She locked eyes with the animal and knew in that moment that she would be the victor. Nextmeal's antennae quivered in fear as they rightly should. She took another step forward as it rummaged uselessly among its belongings. She could make out the scrabbling sounds of her Bondmate far above as he tried to get to the prey animals. It mattered not. She would share the Nextmeal feast with him. Vorl: oO A shame that such a creature must die. But one must keep their strength up ... and one must protect the Sphere. A flash of light against an object hurtling toward her was the only warning before the searing pain of her severed tendril was quickly followed by the sharp ache of something hitting her dorsal shell. Vorl cried out in anguish, rising up on her hind legs in desperation. A second Nextmeal joined the first and then a third. A hot beam of light shot forward and caught her in the center of her thorax. As the enroaching darkness melted away her vision, Vorl had but one thought. Vorl: oO What of the Sphere? Oo -- Vorl the Denebian Slime Devil simmed by Lt. Jona ch'Ranni Chief of Operations USS Gorkon (NCC-82293) C239510JC0
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