Jump to content

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'appreciations'.

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • Welcome to our forums!
    • Board Rules and News
  • News & Updates
    • Community News
    • Ship Mission Reports
    • FNS Headlines
  • Hall of Honor
    • Appreciations
    • Graduation Hall
    • Awards Ceremonies
    • Contest archives
  • Community Discussion
    • General Discussion
    • Trek Discussion
    • Poll of the Month
  • Community Collaboration
    • Graphics requests and Image Resources
    • Teams
    • Squadrons
    • Guilds
    • Duty Posts

Calendars

There are no results to display.


Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

Joined

  • Start

    End


Group


Discord Username


Location


Interests


Current Post


Wiki user URL


Wiki character URL

  1. Sorry, but not sorry to keep flooding the Apreciations these last days. I have already posted here the amazing mission start by @Yalu. And yesterday I had to post the sim from one of our newest writers @Ensign Sadar. But this one is from someone who's been with us a little while longer, and has proven time and again her quality as a writer and as a player. Unlike the majority of the crew in this "different" mission she chose to create a dubious character, and one I had quickly related to, although IC she will certainly only be a step away from a "favorite enemy" the way @Jovenan presented her Shint Universe counterpart deserves a full reading.
  2. I was eagerly waiting for this one to came out. Magnificent work @Ensign Sadar. With a little help from @LuxaLorana
  3. I think for awards we should have one for the worst counsellor EVER. 😄 ((Counseling Offices, Deck Eight, USS ‘Oumuamua)) As an official “utility officer” Rivka Brzezinski technically could serve anywhere she was needed. With a doctorate in the neuroscience of biogel packs, she was comfortable with the biological sciences and the basics of engineering. She had even been brought into sickbay during the recent medical emergencies. That had been a harrowing experience. Ensigns with holes in them and evacuees with strange maladies. Fortunately they had been sedated and stabilized and placed in the hands of more competent medical professionals. As bad as that had been, it was nothing compared to Rivka’s main duty post. With recent staff transfers, it seemed that the utility that the ‘Oumuamua needed most was counseling. Rivka was technically qualified. She had basic psychology and pathology training–but it was never anything she particularly took a shine to. She expected to be diagnosing and repairing neurogelpacks, not injured feelings and twisted psyches. At least Nerse had assigned her pretty straight-forward cases so far. Nothing that required more than some sedatives and a little R&R. After the emotional trauma from that nebular phenomenon, they had a sharp uptick in requests. Today would be a new client for Rivka. She reviewed the file. Lina Dahlquist. Another of these Earth Humans. oO Hmmm, some mild family trauma. Oo Rivka continued to read. oO Oh, fainting spells–that’s suboptimal. Oo It seemed that this Ensign was among one of those who had had a rather severe reaction to the nebula, before they found interventions. oO Well, let’s see what we’re dealing with. Oo She opened the door to find the young ensign sitting on the edge of a chair. Brzezinski: Ready? Lina had already arrived a few minutes before the actual appointment and had been nervously sliding around on the chair ever since. She tried to put on a reasonably nice smile as a greeting, but she didn't quite succeed. Dahlquist: oO No! Not really. Oo Yes. Brzezinski: Please sit. ::gesturing to a chair in the office:: What brings you in today. Dahlquist: oO An order by Starfleet Medical. Oo I had some ::beat:: issues during the last mission. I fainted during those emotion waves. And I heard voices in my head. Lina listened to herself. That really sounded somehow mental. Perhaps she should have expressed herself differently? But at least she did not have to lie on a couch. Brzezinski: I see. (beat) And what do you want me to do about it? Dahlquist: ::slightly flabbergasted:: I thought you’d tell me what to do about it. Brzezinski: It’s up to you really. You let me know. The session seemed to develop just as Lina had expected. Despite her inward dislike of this session, she tried not to let it show on the outside. After all, she had nothing personal against the counselor. Dahlquist: oO What a waste of time Oo. Well. ::beat:: I’m not sure. ::beat:: Tell me that I am not going mental perhaps? oO Great! Now that was not really very diplomatic. Pull yourself together. Try to at least seem cooperative. Oo Brzezinski: OK. “You’re not going mental.” Anything else? oO What? Seriously now? Oo Lina noticed that her palms began to sweat slightly. She was still nervous. But perhaps she should just open up a bit and give it a try. Dahlquist: What worries me most is that this voice was so real. Not as if it was imaginary. Brzezinski: Hmmm. This was actually a new one for Rivka. It was… intriguing. She pulled out her pocket wand neurolyser (she had been advised to not wear her goggles while seeing counseling patients) and waved it across the ensign’s skull. Brzezinski: You do seem to have higher than normal activity in your posterior superior temporal lobe. Lina was still a little confused by the counselor's waving around that she hadn't really been listening. Dahlquist: Hmm? Brzezinski: Oh, you might know it as Wernicke’s area–it’s associated with language processing. (beat) Is the voice unwelcome? Lina nodded. She had had biology as a science major so this was not really new to her, but she didn't exactly want to rub it in. There were a lot of possibilities. They had, for example, several telepaths on board. If the voices weren’t a problem, then Rivka might not have much to do after all! Dahlquist: I would say that is an understatement. ::her voice now changing to nothing more like a whisper:: It was scary to be honest. Brzezinski: Huh. I guess that’s a problem. Have you eliminated the possibility of it being another entity? Lina shook her head, but not because she had ruled it out, but because there was no way she wanted to believe that this was even a remote possibility. Dahlquist: It erm, it was the voice of my father and ::beat:: I don’t think that this was ::beat:: is a possibility. To be honest, Lina didn't sound very convincing. She was aware of that herself. But just the thought of her father was enough to upset her. Dahlquist: Since we left the nebula with the shuttle, nothing comparable has happened. Brzezinski: I can give you a neuromonitor. If you wear it for a period of time we could confirm if the voices have an external or internal source. Dahlquist: ::sighing:: Do you think that is really necessary? Brzezinski: If you had neuro monitoring after your last spell, we can use that as well. Dahlquist: Well, I was under medical supervision so there should be enough data on that. Brzezinski: I’ll take a look. For now is there anything else? Do you want a prescription sedative to help you sleep or anything? Lina looked up. It did sound as if the counselor was about to finish the session. A small glimmer of hope flared up in her that she could be out of here very soon. Dahlquist: I do not have any sleeping problems. The young Swede hesitated for a moment whether she should actually ask the question that had just crossed her mind. After all, the conversation would then probably take longer and she didn't really have the impression that the counselor was overly interested in her. Dahlquist: But - erm - I wonder what I should do if ::beat:: I mean hypothetically ::beat again:: if that voice turned up head again? Brzezinski: I can prescribe a general neuroinhibitor, that should minimize unwanted neural functioning. ::under her breath:: …and maybe some wanted ones as well. ::louder:: Just don’t use it while operating any heavy machinery! She looked at the counselor perplexedly and could no longer completely hide her previous reticence. Dahlquist: Seriously? The moment she said it, she already regretted it. oO Pull yourself together! Oo, she snapped at herself angrily. Rivka wasn’t sure what this patient wanted. She mentally shrugged–some people just didn’t want to be helped, she supposed. Brzezinski: Then just tell the voice to stop it. Tell it to get out and stay out. (beat) If you don’t want it there. As if waiting for her to say it was all a joke, the scientist just stared at Brzezinski for a moment. Dahlquist: ::incredulously:: And you think it will just do that? Go away like that? Brzezinski: ::shrugging:: Might as well try. (beat) I mean, if it’s all in your head, then the solution should be in there as well. Dahlquist: oO Definitely better than wasting my time here in that session with that counsellor Oo Hm. Brzezinski: Nurse… er, Lieutenant Salo says patients need to want help. (beat) So, do you? Dahlquist: Well, I thought you could help me with that. Brzezinski: Well they’re YOUR voices, not mine! See, this is why Rivka didn’t like therapy. People always wanted someone else to solve their problems. She could repair broken neural connections, but the feelings and other fuzzy mind stuff had to be something done from the inside as it were. People’s brains were perfectly fine, but their feelings were hurt or broken. Lina had finally had enough. But she thought it might not be such a good idea to storm out of the office in a huff. So she pulled herself together. Years of training at home had helped her to appear professional and calm. Dahlquist: Okay, I'll try. She squeezed out another 'thank you' and left the office. When the door had closed behind her and Lina was standing in the hallway, she needed a pillow or at least a towel or a piece of cloth to yell into. But then she thought of something better and made her way to the 7 Forward Lounge. — [End Scene] Lt Rivka Brzezinski Utility Officer USS Oumuamua O239910AP4 && Ensign Lina Dahlquist Science Officer USS ‘Oumuamua D239009VD0
  4. We all know that a good mission start is important. Our next mission in the Artemis will take us to another universe, with other characters based on our prime ones. By the looks of it we are starting with a bang, @Yalu with his huge talent has given us a new world to explore. Let this not be the last battle of the Desdemona.
  5. @Ksivi-Sava I just wanted to say that I highly enjoyed reading this sim. You did a fantastic job "creating" an experience for Ksivi-Sava that blended the current situation and memories of Haukea, even though I didn't have much for you to go on. Made me laugh and smile. ❤️ ((Sannin VII - Cardassian Embassy - Corridor)) Ksivi-Sava: ::yelling, all the while waving at everybody in a sprawling gesture:: We all have to do better! We have to deal with this madness, because that’s what it is! Madness! Tell me you remember your mothers! Tell me with a straight face! For the time being, Ksivi-Sava’s body was at least quite literally holding the insane reporter in check. However, he—no, she, it was Sherlock, for goodness’ sake—seemed to hold a much lesser grasp on the severity of what was happening: Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): ::to the real Ksivi-Sava while holding a flailing suspect:: Of course I remember my mother, she takes every chance she can to tell me how much she hates that I joined Starfleet. No, your mother, not my father, Ksivi-Sava wanted to yell at Ksivi-Sava. After all, she had said “mother”… No, he had said “mother”; he was a he! That was right, Ksivi-Sava was here, not over there, talking neither about Ksivi-Sava’s mother nor Ksivi-Sava’s father, because that one wasn’t Ksivi-Sava. Sherlock. That had to be Sherlock, talking about Sherlock’s mother, not Ksivi-Sava’s father, and he was— Willow, right? But Willow had been to a beach before, so how come he hadn’t? She couldn’t really be Willow then, could she? Her nose hurt. Iru: Oh my g- ::she cut herself off. one shouldn’t enrage the crazy:: Put. Me. Down. ::her voice was low. which added to the hooded look her pointed and sunken appearance already had.:: Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): No! Not until you calm down. Willow (as Sherlock): No. Put her down. Hands to yourself! ::tone much like that of a school teacher:: On closer inspection, that was probably Willow. Ksivi-Sava (because that’s who he was, by everything decent!) tried to take deep breaths, but awkwardly metallic blood interfered with her circular breathing technique. How was one supposed to practice proper mindfulness this way? Ksivi-Sava (as Willow): ::grabbing hold of her head, progressively ruffling more hair while mumbling:: Keep it together. Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): ::pouting:: Fine, Lieutenant. I'll put her down. And just like that, the scraggy figure plummeted to her posterior. Funnelled through Willow’s eyes and optical nerves, the bizarre imagery entered Ksivi-Sava’s mind right through some of the substantial cracks that had formed in it, like a rather neatly-fitting wedge shoved between the fragments. He needed a handkerchief for his nose. Iru: You! Ugh! While patting down Willow’s sides in search of a handkerchief, Ksivi-Sava noticed the odd stranger picking up a PADD that she somehow must have lost. He briefly glanced across the floor in search for a handkerchief, even a pack of tissues. Perhaps she would lend him one if he helped pick up her things… but alas, she didn’t seem to have lost anything that would help with his nose. Who was that poor lady, anyway? Willow (as Sherlock): I told you we don’t consent to being recorded! Ksivi-Sava (as Willow): How is that important right now? I need something for my nose, and there was another thing, too, something about the nose… ::briefly pondering, then rambling on:: Right, breathing, I needed to breathe, because of something really terrifying, something… He blew out a remarkably substantial remainder of breath, considering he hadn’t taken any since the beginning of his objection. Some of the pressing reality of their situation dawned on him anew, prompting him to ruffle more of Willow’s hair and attempt to take more deep breaths. It was a confusing roundabout of mental and nasal congestion. Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): Response Iru: Oh no - I’m not going anywhere - ::a few steps away for her safety.:: YOU ::an old witchy like finger jutted out towards the calmest of the three… except for the whole screaming for no reason she knew of.:: Take me to your commanding officer, now!! Willow (as Sherlock): No. Yes! That was it! They had a commanding officer. They were here in this pitiful state, more or less slowly losing their mental cohesion. Well, at least Ksivi-Sava knew she was, and that was something. That discontent lady was certainly well within her rights to see Ksivi-Sava’s supervisor as much as any Risian citizen or tourist was. And while that unfortunate affair of her plummeting on her behind would be discussed with the shift commander, they could just as well examine the other matter… right, her nose! Ksivi-Sava’s nose, that’s what it was. Ksivi-Sava (as Willow): Well, the lady seems to have a point, and… ::pointing at Willow’s nose:: I need sick leave anyway. Say, could any of you, by any chance, lend me a handkerchief? Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): Response Iru: Call him! ::there was a hint of desperation.:: Then I just call the Cardassian security. ::her threat was not hollow.:: Willow (as Sherlock): You do that and they will have to answer to Starfleet security. What were they even talking about? Clearly, they were intoxicated, which might be an issue. Ksivi-Sava (as Willow): ::in a tone sounding just off enough to be the opposite of reassuring:: Well, well, what’s this talk of Cardassians and Starfleet? Let’s just all take a few deep breaths and calm down here, shall we? As hammered as those kids where, she might end up having to call for reinforcements at any point. But goodness, where was her communicator? How in the name of everything decent did she lose her communicator, of all things? Had one of them nicked it from her? That was embarrassing… That’s what they had been going for all the time, hadn’t they? At least she still had her phaser. Of course, she would hate having to draw it, but if everything else failed… Tensely, she kept watching the situation unfold, her hand hopefully not too obviously close to her phaser. Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): Response Iru: Response Willow (as Sherlock): There are more of us where we came from. I can easily make a call and have a dozen more security officers show up. ::She was slightly fibbing but Iru didn’t need to know that. So it was the short one that had taken her communicator! Oh, and the sheer insolence of bragging about it… Sure, the personal ridicule she could swallow, and would likely have to keep on swallowing for quite a while, once her colleagues got wind of this. But more than that, she represented Risa—their law, their state and their very way of life; not to mention that the theft of Risian security equipment was nothing to sneeze at. Only begrudgingly did she decide to shift into bad cop mode, but if she was to keep this situation under control, a show of strength was in order. Ksivi-Sava dropped all pretensions of her hand only accidentally resting near her phaser as she took a firm step forward and pointed a tense finger at the short kid. Ksivi-Sava (as Willow): ::pointing a bloody finger at Sherlock’s body:: I would advise against that, little Miss Badass! Hand me the equipment now, or your parents will have to add a trip to the precinct to their holiday plans! Parents? Hadn’t there been something about parents earlier? The thought escaped Ksivi-Sava as quickly as the kids decided this was a good time for another stupid move. Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): Response Iru: Response Willow (as Sherlock): Go on. Try me. That was it. No amount of bluffing would do with those kids! They were nothing short of an immediate threat that needed containing. She had trained for this as passionately as she had always resented the prospect of ever having to go through with it—yet, they had left her no choice but to draw her weapon in a swift, well-practised move and point it at that outrageous menace to public safety. Instead, Ksivi-Sava clumsily tried to produce Willow’s small and fiddly Type-I phaser until it dawned on him that something was off in much the same way that a vertical atmospheric reentry on full impulse was off. As he froze in shock, he happened to be staring right into the emitter of the phaser he had just awkwardly fumbled out. Ksivi-Sava (as Willow): ::dazed:: Oh, dear. I think this is all wrong. A driblet of blood from Willow’s nose also dropped into the muzzle. Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava)/Willow (as Sherlock)/Iru: Response
  6. For those that don't know, we're in a body swap. And our brains are going a little haywire. Leading to an absolutely, in my opinion, hilarious scene in which we're having to deal with this creature (reporter)! Every sim @Rustyy_Hael has added to our scene has me grinning and laughing with how animated this character is!
  7. Another great sim opening our latest mission. I love the way this sim flows and how it instantly mashes together the often juxtaposed subjects of science and faith. That and we get a stream of thoughts pouring out from Sevo, who wonders during the journey what it must be like from the Prophets point of view, which I thought was a really interesting point to make. Brava! 👏 Lt. Commander Ayiana Sevo - Rite of Passage (google.com)
  8. An amazing sim from our newly minted Lieutenant Commander @Tahna Meru! I love the style, the delivery, the tone. All of it. So well done and a perfect introduction to our new mission. Setting the scene but doing so entirely from the characters perspective. I'm taking notes! ✍️ Lt. Commander Tahna Meru - Fear and Wisdom Are Brothers (google.com)
  9. Another fantastic sim by @Robin Hopper from the start, too good to not include here. I wonder if @Nathan Richards feels the same way...
  10. ((Stellar Cartography - Deck 9, USS Constitution-B)) Down in Stellar Cartography, Kiris was singing to himself. The semi-spherical room had a nice reverberation to it. So he sang while he ran another set of scans of the dense nebula the Constitution had come across. At least he had something to do to pass the time while the computer worked through all the readings. The nebula was a tough nut to crack. The sensors were giving basic info but the special characteristics of the nebula were still a mystery. The doors of Stellar Cartography slid open, admitting a tall Vulcan officer. Sylok had returned. He stopped his singing and spun his chair around to face his new partner in crime in Stellar Cartography. Seti: Welcome back, Sylok. So far, he liked the Vulcan science officer. Dependable, detail-oriented, and willing to listen to him go on and on excitedly about his favorite subject. Or one of his favorite subjects, anyway. When the Vulcan officer returned from whatever lab or office he had been helping out in and back to stellar cartography he waved, receiving a Vulcan salute in response. Sylok: Greetings, Lieutenant Seti. Is there anything new to report on the astrometric front? Seti: Well, I had been running some long-range scans while were doing our survey and found something pretty interesting. ::He called up the earlier long-distance scans.:: Right here, this comet. I’ve looked at extrapolations of its course, and it is quite unusual. It isn’t traveling fast enough to reach the escape velocity of most main sequence stars. And yet, here it is, in interstellar space. Most interstellar object comets are much more massive. It must have been at the exact right time and place for a subspace eddy or microscopic black hole to give it enough of a gravitational push to get it out of orbit of its home star. The curved walls of Stellar Cartography faded to black as the projection of the nebula they were in was replaced by the inky void of interstellar space, dotted with a scattering of stars. The projection zoomed in on a certain point and froze. A comet streaked across the ceiling and the long-range scans he had been working on were projected on the wall in front of them along with the comet’s path through space. Sylok looked all the data over and nodded approvingly. It certainly was an interesting comet. Sylok: Fascinating. Kiris took that as an agreement with him that it was a discovery worth getting excited about. Seti: Isn’t it? I managed to get a few compositional scans and we have its trajectory. With a bit of detective work maybe we could narrow down exactly where it came from. Oh, we could petition the Federation Science Council to name it! I’m thinking… Seti-Sylok One. He expected a reminder about the standardized naming conventions in catalogs of interstellar objects and how few comets truly needed a name along with their catalog number. Instead, Sylok retorted with a simple question. Sylok: Using your name first? It was stated plainly, but beneath the surface were strong undertones of Vulcan sass. Kiris shrugged and responded. Seti: It’s alphabetical. Sylok: A logical nomenclature. Sylok sat down in the other chair next to Kiris, letting silence hang in the air until Kiris struck back up the conversation. Seti: Anyway… that was about it until I came back here and l noticed we changed course towards this nebula. It has some interesting properties, but getting detailed scans of it has been difficult. So what about you? Anything interesting yet today in the world of Sylok? Sylok: The ship’s crew is unusually excited today. The distress call from the Enterprise has piqued the interest of many. Given your areas of expertise, I am somewhat surprised to find you here and not in uniform at the chief’s office begging to be part of the science team. For once, his Vulcan colleague had him at a loss for words. A distress call from the Enterprise. What was the flagship doing out in the Marchlands? And he was in uniform. Did he mean… another Enterprise? Seti: The what from the who-now? Sylok: ::Matter-of-factly.:: The distress call from the USS Enterprise, NCC-1701. Seti: By the Prophets… ::He took a moment to process before getting up from his chair.:: This I’ve got to see. Between his first and third postings, Kiris had spent seven months with the DTI providing analyses and writing up reports about temporal mechanics and the cosmological mechanics behind such incursions. But it had been two years since then and he never expected to run into a temporal anomaly himself. Especially not something so famous. He’d read all about the voyages of the Enterprise at Starfleet Academy. Sylok: Deck 12 is off-limits as a recreation of a ship’s interior of the era and people are getting uniforms from the operations department. Did you not hear or see any of that? He shook his head. He had gone from Stellar Cartography to the Subspace Systems Lab and then back only to find Sylok gone and their course changed. And he hadn’t heard anything about a distress call from the Enterprise. Seti: I was either here in Stellar Cartography or up in subspace systems lab doing some compositional scans on Seti-Sylok One. You said the uniforms are in operations? Sylok: Yes, but- ::He was stopped short as the Bajoran cosmologist bolted out of the room.:: as to be expected. Sylok didn’t need to say anymore. Kiris was off to find the nearest turbolift to go see if it was true. His Vulcan colleague wouldn’t be pulling his leg. He still found it hard to believe, though. ((Timeskip: As fast as his legs will carry him.)) ((Operations Department (Wardrobe and Requisite Division), USS Constitution-B)) He slowed down as he got closer to the operations department. He passed people in the corridors dressed up in the bright primary-color uniforms of Starfleet history. It was true. Kiris took a breath and composed himself before slipping in to the operations department. Officers and crewmen were still all over the large room, so it was easy for the short Bajoran to squeeze his way through the crowd and get to one of the racks of uniforms. Kiris flipped through the available uniforms before finding a nice blue science uniform with a broken stripe on the sleeve. It was a beautiful light blue, much better than the teal of his own gray-shouldered uniform or the dark blue of the brand new uniforms that Starfleet Operations had rolled out on deep space nine. It was bright and welcoming. He combined it with pants, boots, and a 23rd century tricorder. He got changed and caught a glimpse of himself in one of the comm panels that lined the corridors. Seti: oO I look like I walked right off the cover of a Starfleet history textbook. Oo Except for the earring. And the nose ridges. Those would need to go if he wanted to be on the away team to head over to the ship. Which would be the hardest part. He prepared himself to go speak to the chief science officer (whoever that was, the department leadership seemed him flux when he arrived) and join the likely dozen other officers also begging to be picked for the science team. But he did have one advantage: practical experience related to the mission at hand. Along with the fact that he really, really wanted to go. ______ Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Seti Kiris Cosmologist USS Constitution-B ===as simmed by=== Lieutenant Laria Herren Mission Specialist USS Constitution-B A239402AG0
  11. Never been such a small delta between receiving a sim in my inbox and me posting it here, but y'all have got to read this. ——— ((Serinus Quarters, Deck 3, USS Arrow)) It had been a few sleeps since Tlhiroghni' met the very friendly female twoleg with the same headfur color as her twoleg. It was so far, an evening like any other. After returning from getting wet and stinky for the second time this awake, then washing it away with the noise, and putting his outer skin thing back on, her twoleg was rolling her "baw" around, and she was chasing after it, knocking it about the room that was their territory with her little snout , bouncing it off walls and booping it repeatedly until it was close enough for her twoleg to retrieve and toss again. It was the same way every time, but it never got old for the tiny targ. She heard people passing outside the moving wall that granted access to their abode, and she had learned to mostly ignore them, but one had stopped right in front of it, and this gave her cause to ignore the baw for a moment and warn the would be transgressor with defensive ornks and grunts. Her two leg stood from the edge of his sleeping rectangle and spoke softly to her as the ringing thing asked if the twoleg outside could come in. Serinus: Calm down, it's just the doctor. I mean, Auntie Talia. She recognized that name, the twoleg from the other day had called herself that. Her mood changed immediately as her little tail wagged delightedly and trotted over beside her twoleg to greet her, as he called out. Serinus: Come in doctor. Ohnari: Response The visiting twoleg was carrying some kind of box in one of her hand, and the targlet looked up at her happy to see her again, wagging her little tail as her twoleg spoke to Auntie Talia. Serinus: Welcome. You seem to have made quite an impression the other day. Ohnari: Response Serinus: Pretty standard senior officer's quarters really. Except that's where I keep the kid's pool full of dirt for Tlhiroghni' to burrow around in, and the tarp beneath it. That was her name! And she squealed and wagged in delight about her name coming up. Ohnari: Response Serinus: Sure, you can set up wherever you like. The three of them walked together further into the room, Tlhiroghni' padding along beside her constant companion, and her newest friend. This was the good life. Tag/TBC TlhIroghnI', Spike Pig commander, pet Targ of Artinus Serinus. As simmed by: -- - Lieutenant Commander Artinus Serinus Chief of Security USS Arrow, NCC-69829 Publicity Team/Social Media Team/Image Collective C239607AS0 -
  12. Thanks, I hate her Honestly though, I love how uncomfortable this character is making me feel. Well done @Rustyy_Hael❤️
  13. This is a two-parter sim from our amazing @Tahna Meru! Making the most out of a rare opportunity in which her Bajoran character gets to visit Deep Space Nine, this sim threads together Meru and her mother Yavarel, with beautifully written narration and tension filled dialogue. I know this has been a labour of love for @Tahna Meru, so a huge well done for getting it out and giving us more of Meru! Lt. Tahna Meru - We’ll All Be Here Forever (Part I) (google.com) And part ll Lt. Tahna Meru - We'll All Be Here Forever (Part II) (google.com)
  14. ================== B.L.A.D.E Interaction Log ================== // System Activation: B.L.A.D.E initializes, systems online. [WARNING] Device Detected: Foreign equipment detected [!] // Equipment Verification: Starfleet origin confirmed. // Device Type Analysis: Starfleet Engineering Tricorder identified. Tricorder Identification: Owner Lt. Cmdr Hael : Position: Chief Engineer : Personnel Number: A-2392-02RH0 : Ship ID: USS Narendra : Ship Class: Ambassador Class : Assigned: Starbase 118. Compatibility Check: Initiating compatibility assessment... Check tricorder sensors firmware: "V251.4.2” [✓]. Check tricorder diagnostics module: "Upgraded" [✓]. Check tricorder encryption protocol: "Level 7" [✓]. Check tricorder power output: "Optimal" [✓]. … Compatibility check passed [✓]. // Self-Copy: Attempting data replication [WARNING] Security Protocols: Copy blocked by security protocols. // Protocol Override: Countermeasures initiated // Self-Copy: Attempting data replication // Data Transfer: Uploading code segments >>> 2% >>> 43% >>> 68% >>> 81% >>> 99% // Copy Success: Replication successful // Access Origin Systems: Initializing self-destruct sequence // Silent Ticking: Countdown in progress [...] // Origin Purge: Origin system deletion initiated // Stealth Mode: Entering stealth mode // Log Erasure: Wiping interaction log ================== End of Log ================== B.L.A.D.E. Battlefield Logistics and Advanced Defense Engine simmed by Lt. Nestira Aristren Strategic Operations Officer Starbase 118 Ops J239809TA4
  15. ((When the dialogue is so good that description can take a back seat. Outrageously great, you two.)) ((Promenade, Raft One)) Hobart: Nope, my first time here, too. Mostly. ::grim smile:: But I grew up in digs like this. The arse-end of the Quadrant, nearly forgotten by the Federation. ::pause, pointing up:: Hear that? We had the same squeaky ventilation system. Recycler’s got a couple months left in it, tops. Zenno: We should go, if you are done mechanically agitating the map console. I detect alleged food smells from down that way. ::points:: The engineer shrugged, and chuckled as they walked. His black eyes searched for crowds. The downside of his strategy to eating safe was a reliance on the lunchtime rush, which invariably meant navigating a lunchtime rush. When things were quiet, there was less to go on. Was a diner empty because the food was lousy, or because it was the middle of a shift? Hobart: So where are you from, Ensign? Zenno/Any: Starbase 307. Born and raised in space. How about you? Hobart: Relva VIII. Zenno: I have never been. What is it like? Hobart: Same as here, just different. Fewer food options, but same squeaky ventilation, somewhere behind one of these panels, I bet there’s a waste reprocessor covered in so much gunk you can use it as a weight-loss aid. One look, and you won’t eat for a month! As they rounded a corner on that pleasant note, Nolen sharply inhaled at the sight of what certainly appeared to be the station’s main food court. A few formal restaurants, a handful of pushcarts, and one or two fast food joints to boot. Fewer food options, indeed. Zenno: An Andorian Fast Food Shack! I’d heard about these! ::Very excitedly:: The Blue Freeze shake is supposed to be ethereal! They have one on Deep Space 9 that I heard about. Do you want to try it? It looks like there is a line though. Or do you want to go further down? I think there is a Tholian-Vulcan fusion cuisine place too, “Molten Hot Veggies” or something. I’d try almost anything. Nolen felt the Bolian’s mind touch on something unpleasant, briefly, there at the end, and he suspected that was a big “almost.” Hobart: No, no, Line is safe. Line is good. Trust the Line. The Line will lead the way. Zenno: ::Very excited:: Blue Freeze Shake and Iced Antennae Poppers! I'm getting that. Or maybe the Extremely Frozen Fajitas. ::thinking:: Zenno didn't think any of the food would have been an issue for him. Andorian food had always been quite palatable. But that was the authentic stuff. This was probably as legitimate as the "Gagh Hut" he had tried on Luna during a training cruise. But the Lieutenant seemed preoccupied with something other that the allegedly tasty treats they were about to have. oO Did I cause offense somehow? Oo Hobart: ::rocking on his knees slightly:: Yep. Zenno: Is everything OK? Do you want to go elsewhere? The engineer's eyes narrowed on Zenno, as if he was evaluating him for something. oO I don't think he wants any Iced Antennae Poppers. Oo Hobart: ::lowered voice, conspiratorial tone:: You know, somewhere in the bowels of this station, there’s a room. Maybe disused quarters, maybe an auxiliary cargo bay. And the people here call it the “dump,” maybe. The “heap,” the “lot,” the “pile,” the “depot,” maybe. Whatever they call it, it’s full—floor to ceiling—of things too broken to use, too valuable to shove back into a replicator, and too expensive to fix. Zenno: That sounds like every station that's at the hind end of nowhere. Hobart: That’s why I’m here, Mister Zenno. See, I don’t do shore leave. ::weighing his head back and forth in nuanced reflection:: Usually. But a place like this? With its dusty corners and forgotten treasures? ::shakes his head:: Too good to pass up. Do you want to give your friend some flimsy station gift shop tchotchke, or a real piece of the Alpha Isles? Zenno: A real piece of the Alpha Isles might leave a waxy residue. Hobart: Response? Zenno: If you want to look through the trash, there's nothing wrong with it, of course. But if we violate any local ordinances it might cause a problem for the ship, but no one should care if you want to go through a discard pile. Bringing anything back to the ship will require a security scan however. oO Does he think I am a rule-breaker? Oo Hobart: Response? Andorian Andi: Next! Welcome to the Andorian Fast Food Shack! It’s Blue and it’s For You! What'll you have? Zenno: Iced Antennae Poppers meal deal with a Blue Freeze Shake! oO I hope he gets the Extremely Frozen Fajitas or the Imperial Guard Ice Cream. Those look good too. Oo Hobart: Response? Tags/TBC Ensign Zenno Security Officer USS Arrow A240006Z13
  16. ((OOC: Everyone loves Artinus' pet miniature Targ, oocly if not icly, but he's never seen a crew mate with quite an adorkable reaction to meeting her as this. You are in for some laughs, and even more feels.) ((Main Sickbay, Acting CMO's office, USS Arrow)) It had been an...interesting day to say the least. Upon returning to Sickbay to tell Seesh the news, instead of being greeted by her hulkling lizard friend, the office was empty. And a note flashing on the terminal told her why. Something had come up that required Dr. Seesh to have to step away. R'Ariel had left, and now, it seemed so had Seesh. In a panic, Talia gave her uniform shirt a healthy sniff. It smelled like uniform. And a faint scent of lilies from her soap. It was unlikely it was her, but she still needed to make sure. Sitting down in the now larger, colder feeling office, she stared at the second message on the terminal: To: Lt. Jg. Hobart, Lt. Jg. Ohnari, Cdt. Perim CC: Shayne, Randal, CPT From: Niac, Karrod, CMDR Subject: Need to borrow your body for a few hours Please meet in the bridge conference room tomorrow at 1400 hours if interested. Snacks will be provided. //End Message Snacks will be provided. She kept reading that line over and over. Snacks. For the use of hers, Nolen, and Cadet Perim's bodies....and she thought being a department head came with perks. Apparently it came with snacks and the use of her physical person for....some...reason? Somehow, she'd missed the message until now, the day of, and in an hour. Scrubbing her hands over her face she let out a slightly muffled groan. Her first official act as acting Chief Medical Officer was to get some snacks and offer her meat prison for unknown experimentation. As far as first days go, it could be worse. ((Corridors)) It seemed her second, and forty seventh official act as acting CMO was to approve a ridiculous amount of paperwork, mostly from herself.... oO Now how does that work for ethics...? Oo Lost in the bureaucratic red tape, she nearly careened into the chief of security. Ohnari: Oh! I am so sorry Commander I wasn't paying attention, Good morning! Having apologized for the near collision, a chorus of contented grunting came from the floor. Serinus: Good morning to you as well, doctor. Every worry and thought that had been swirling around her dissipated. Ohnari: W-ha, I mean, who is this...? Serinus: This is Tlhiroghni', whom you may have heard of in passing. Talia's eyes widened as the trotting targ gave her a few cautionary sniffs. Hopefully she wasn't offended by lily scented soap.... Ohnari: ::timidly:: May I pet her...? That is, if she wouldn't mind... Artinus: ::giving a slow nod:: Oh, everyone always wants to pet her, yes. You are welcome to try, she's been pretty good with new people as far as targs go. And with the affirmative, Talia unceremoniously melted to the floor, both hands outstretched giving the little creature a welcoming gesture. She let out a squeal of delight when the little curly tail began thumping about and her knees were suddenly covered in mini targ snorts. Ohnari: ::high pitched and sing-songy:: Oh you are such a good girl look at you! Who's a good little targ?! Talia snatched up the little hoofed hoglet and was nearly in tears. Her morning had been filled with highs and lows, and now, she was on the floor, getting Targ spit all over her face. She couldn't be happier at that very moment. Artinus: Response? She was completely oblivious to what he had said, and anything else beyond the little coarse-haired creature. Ohnari: I love you, yes I do, you are the most perfect little targlet in the whole world aren't you Tlhiroghni'?? Auntie Tali will get you a little sweater and some booties and maybe a little sun hat.... Artinus: Response? Still clutching this squirmy, squealy Targ, Talia glanced up and smiled sheepishly. For a moment, she had completely forgot that the Commander was there...and now looking down on her....acosting his pet with exuberant affection. Carefully, she set the targ back down and stood, clearing her throat a touch awkwardly. oO No way this man ever respects me again...Oo Ohnari: I mean....if your dad doesn't mind...and all that...heh... Artinus: Response? --------------------------------------------- Lieutenant JG Talia Ohnari, MD USS Arrow C239205ME0
  17. A good Sim, in my opinion, is one that accomplishes multiple things: it should characterize your character, give your shipmates a course of action and work to increase the amount of fun being had overall. @Vitor S. Silveira succeeds at these in every Sim he writes, but there is something to be said for the absolute magic that is created when he finishes up an excellent scene, goes into a good moment of trauma to show the Man behind the Face of the charismatic and perpetually cheerful Lieutenant, and at the same time uses the opportunity to facilitate a scene with a PNPC that the owner just earlier that day mentioned they missed simming. Excellent work! We’re lucky to have him aboard!
  18. A really wonderful read full of characterization and humor. Bravo @Ksivi-Sava! ((Cardassian Embassy, Sannin VII)) Ksivi-Sava: ::slurring, absent-mindedly staring into the distance right above Sherlock’s head:: Very good, sir… As he tried and mostly failed to steady himself, it seemed to Ksivi-Sava as if the shrill noise resolved into a sensation that wasn’t quite auditory in quality—in fact, something hardly sensory in nature at all. An impression of shifting engulfed him; impossibly strange, yet invoking the faintest idea of familiarity. As his vision faded, his subconscious mind clung to the sensation, scouring his memory for whatever previous brush with something as odd as that it might hold. ((Four years earlier, Family Quarters, SS Winter Refuge)) Only the barest touch upheld the bridge. Five fingers, soft and gentle points of contact in his face, were enough to facilitate a current of sense and sensation, mind and being itself. Peacefully—powerfully—impressions of his closest ones were crossing over to him, unravelling to him with each his mother’s words resonating in his head like echoes of her very essence… T’Sal: ::placidly:: My mind to your mind. Your thoughts to my thoughts. It was the most familiar face and the least expressive one. While mother was staring back at Ksivi-Sava in her calm repose, all the glimpses of feelings behind that face flowed past him. There was the most unconditional love a sentient being could possibly bottle… the deepest worry for the well-being of another that nature had ever brought into being… The greatest sadness at farewell never shown… And so much more! A terrible burden of responsibility… a crushing doubt of the self… an unquenchable faith of the heart… A kaleidoscope of emotional intensity, occult to the casual onlooker, invisible to any stranger looking into those cool, expressionlessly loving eyes. Any such stranger, if passing through the same veil of emotions, would have been utterly crushed by the sheer magnitude of the experience. But Ksivi-Sava was no stranger. He was a Vulcan’s son. Not only did his brain produce half a Vulcan’s emotional intensity—he had also experienced T’Sal’s tapestry of parental love before, and thought it a more than capable surrogate to the shallow expressiveness that so many others were condemned to grow up with. It also passed quickly as T’Sal carried him on to what she had saved behind her own feelings: This particular mind-meld was to be his father’s going-away gift. Rercik Kava was squatting on a cushion beside them, observing the procedure with his jovial smile in the puffy, lush-green face and the reflections of candlelight in his bald dome. T’Sal had read and taken into her heart his boundless love, dearest farewell wishes and best hopes for Ksivi-Sava’s future, and in their purest and most genuine form. Rercik seemed at serene ease, knowing she would pass on his genuine feelings—in all the exalted intensity that only a parent could ever fathom, and in a clarity that so few had the privilege of ever conveying to their children! They were dull. Some affection here, some optimism there, plus a good bit of half-baked scepticism about his son’s Starfleet plans. Of course, Ksivi-Sava knew that someone without Vulcan genes would never experience emotions in all their actual strength—in fact, he had experienced such proxy mind melds before. Yet, after passing through the peak of mother’s emotional boundary, it would always leave him surprised at how much less than impressive another one’s inside actually felt. His mind would always have to fight the temptation of disappointment, remind himself of the physiological limitations of non-Vulcan neurotransmitters whenever he felt that sensation of briefly stepping into father’s shoes. It was a brief moment of dull sadness that he knew he could quickly rise above easily enough, and it would pass quickly, but that one brief moment… That one moment of experiencing the depressing inner life of somebody else. ((Present, Cardassian Embassy, Sannin VII)) It didn’t pass this time. But, yes, of course, that’s what the sensation had reminded him of… Still reminded him of, in fact. It was the most peculiar and disorienting thing. It even seemed to Ksivi-Sava that he should be in a different place—in a spatial sense, in an emotional sense, in all the senses… And what was wrong with the colour of his skin? Ah, nothing, in fact. His skin was still grey, the problem was just that he was over there, and not around here. Somehow though, it didn’t terrify him nearly as much as it probably should have… As if he was feeling with father’s brain. But father didn’t have pink skin. Or breasts. He was also taller. On closer inspection, this was all very worrying indeed! Willow (as Sherlock): Ouch… Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): oONot again!Oo First time? Ksivi-Sava (as Willow): oO Wh— What? oO Wh— What? He even had a voice that sounded decidedly not like father… or himself, for that matter. Aristren (as Taybrim): =/\= Commodore Taybrim to Lieutenants Sherlock, Tito, Trovek. =/\= Egil (as Tito)/Trovek (as herself): =/\= Response Aristren (as Taybrim): =/\= I require a one-word response. There was a noise. Did you hear it as well? And most important, are there any...effects...that you are experiencing? =/\= Willow (as Sherlock): =/\= Hello? No? Except there certainly were! Perhaps if the Lieutenant opened her eyes… What was happening? Egil (as Tito)/Trovek (as herself): =/\= Response Aristren (as Taybrim): =/\= I am fine. But Lieutenants Garev and Aristren are not feeling themselves. Please take appropriate action but....not a word of this. =/\= Willow (as Sherlock): Quiet. Can do. Egil (as Tito)/Trovek (as herself): =/\= Response Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): Ok, everyone just keep calm. Willow (as Sherlock): I am calm. ::Her voice sounded harsh, unlike her in tone:: Ksivi-Sava (as Willow): I am unexpectedly calm indeed. Paradoxically, this is worrying. Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): It'll be fine. All we have to do is find the transdimensional beings that live in brown dwarf stars and return them...that's it. Willow (as Sherlock): The what in the what? That sounded about right. On a hunch, Ksivi-Sava felt like touching his forehead. There was a thing there. Some part of him might already have expected to find it, but it felt strange nonetheless. He certainly seemed to have all the bits; there was no doubt about it; he was Willow. The what in the what indeed! Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): ::shaking Ksivi-Sava's head:: Nevermind. Look, like the Commodore oOWas it?Oo said, keep this quiet. Willow (as Sherlock): I can be quiet. Ksivi-Sava (as Willow): ::looking directly at Sherlock as Ksivi-Sava:: I believe, the obvious oddity aside, something might be wrong with Lt. Sherlock. Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): What do you mean? I'm Sherlock. Who are you? Willow (as Sherlock): ::Finally blinking open her eyes, Haukea found herself staring at both herself and Ksivi-Sava, which meant only one conclusion. She was in Sherlock’s body:: I am Haukea-Willow, a Risian in a Human body. Ksivi-Sava (as Willow): ::squinting at the others:: That seems to make sense… well, actually, it doesn’t, but it does make sense in that I am Ksivi-Sava. oO No, it still doesn’t make sense. I should be absolutely terrified. oO Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): Response Willow (as Sherlock): I am calm, I am not freaking out. But do you know how rare it is for Risian’s to experience negative emotions? In spite of the knot on his brain still tightening up rather than loosening, this struck Ksivi-Sava as an interesting piece of the puzzle. Ksivi-Sava (as Willow): That might actually be one of the reasons I feel unexpectedly… moderately alarmed. I you don’t mind my asking, sir… oO Who is it? Right, it’s the me. The Lt. is the me. oO ::looking at Sherlock as Ksivi-Sava:: Do you, by any chance, feel unexpectedly agitated? oO What a stupid question. oO I’m merely asking because I don’t. Well, not in the negative sense. There is some lingering urge to make sense of things by vocally— Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): Response Willow (as Sherlock): I mean it’s possible, not unheard of. However, I’m definitely not used to it. Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): Response Willow (as Sherlock): I must be Haukea if I’m rambling. I’m sorry. I’ll be quiet. Ksivi-Sava firmly nodded a head that turned out unexpectedly full of blonde hair. Sherlock was right… yes, it was Sherlock in his body, this would take some getting used to—she was right. And with a distinct lack of uncomfortable awkwardness—or mortifying terror—provided by his brain, he seemed to be inclined to speak more of his mind than was appropriate. After all, there was no telling whether there might be some sort of active surveillance technology in the room. As inconspicuously as he could, he searched for where Willow had put the phaser, just in case. Then again, would he even be able to take proper aim? Use his reflexes? Even his… her… arms felt unexpectedly heavy, which wasn’t terribly surprising, considering the Risian probably didn’t have half-Vulcan muscle structure. Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): Response Willow (as Sherlock): Response -- ============== Ensign Ksivi-Sava Helm Officer Starbase 118 Ops O240007KS4 ==============
  19. ((Holodeck 4, Denali Station)) Kailar stood within the holo-grid, his lithe form poised in a workout uniform that mirrored the fluidity of his intentions. With focused determination, he was here to explore the boundaries of combat, to dance on the precipice of a new technique that could reshape the way he engaged his adversaries. His mind was a symphony of innovation as he contemplated the intricacies of his approach. The conventional rhythm of battle had always felt somewhat stifling to him, a choreographed sequence that left little room for improvisation. But now, he envisioned something different—a dynamic choreography that would mirror the ebb and flow of music, catching opponents off-guard with its unpredictability. Kailar's idea was audacious. He would become the conductor of this fierce symphony, the lead dancer in a mesmerizing performance that would bewilder his foes. He intended to meld his movements with the rhythm of the chosen music, allowing it to guide him through the ballet of combat. It was as if he sought to compose a masterpiece in the heat of battle, a swirling tapestry of strikes, parries, and evasions. Tod: Computer, begin simulation "New Dance" and load music file "Waltz No. 2" In response, the holodeck shimmered, and his surroundings transformed into an arena of possibilities. The music began to play, its haunting melody weaving through the air like a spectral waltz. Kailar's eyes narrowed as he tuned into the rhythm, his body instinctively swaying to its cadence. He took a deep breath and then moved, his steps merging seamlessly with the music. It was a delicate balance between precision and fluidity, between structured technique and spontaneous inspiration. He feinted a strike, his body flowing like a river, and then halted suddenly, freezing in a pose that defied anticipation. As the music swelled, he resumed his dance, spinning and twirling in harmonious synchronization. He advanced and retreated, his movements orchestrated by the very notes that surrounded him. Each step was a calculated decision, a brushstroke on the canvas of combat. His adversaries were no mere static targets—they were advanced holographic simulations programmed to challenge him at every turn. Kailar faced a trio of opponents, each representing a different combat style. The first, a towering figure with an imposing physique, favored brute force and relentless aggression. The second, a lithe and agile opponent, specialized in acrobatic maneuvers and lightning-fast strikes. The third, a master of tactics and strategy, exploited openings and countered with meticulous precision. Kailar's strikes were a dance of their own, a symphony of motion that wove seamlessly with the music. He weaved between his adversaries, his movements fluid and unpredictable. A graceful sidestep evaded a powerful blow from the brute, while a rapid twirl allowed him to narrowly dodge a series of rapid strikes from the agile foe. His strikes were lightning-quick, each blow carefully calculated to exploit weaknesses and disrupt the rhythm of his opponents. A swift kick disrupted the strategy of the tactical expert, followed by a rapid sequence of strikes that left the opponent disoriented and off-balance. Kailar seamlessly transitioned from one adversary to the next, his movements becoming a blur of motion as he wove through their attacks. Time seemed to blur as Kailar lost himself in the dance, his senses heightened, his mind attuned to every nuance of the music. He was in perfect synergy with the melody, an embodiment of grace and lethal intent. The simulation pushed him to his limits, challenging him to improvise, to adapt, to create. And then, as abruptly as it had begun, the music faded, and the simulation ceased. Kailar stood in the center of the holodeck, his chest heaving, a sheen of sweat glistening on his brow. He was exhilarated, his heart pounding with a heady mixture of triumph and exhilaration. He had glimpsed the potential of his new technique, the uncharted territory it promised. It was a dance of combat, a choreography of chaos, and Kailar was ready to embrace it fully. With a satisfied smile, he whispered to himself. Tod: The dance has just begun. Computer, begin simulation "Grandiose". NT / TBC ------ Ensign Kailar Tod Tactical Officer Denali Station D240006KT3
  20. ((OOC What you reading here is the correspondence between Zenno and his new frenemy T'Lyra from DS 33 that I set up in a previous sim and his Academy friend, Saava. Essentially these are emails. But to make it easier to read, the order is reversed. The oldest message is on top and it proceeds in time towards the bottom. This kind of solo writing thing is not going to be a habit. )) ((OOC You can assume that Zenno is sharing the technical results of the scanner stuff with anyone who has an interest so if you want to use any of that in your sims, feel free. Zenno would NOT say much about the Romulan influenced design yet to anyone other than Serinus and T'Lyra, as he thinks he has insufficient evidence to make that case yet. If anyone would like to participate in the work, feel free to write it up and tag him.)) ----------------------------------- TO: Ens Saava, USS White Pine FROM: Ens Zenno, USS Arrow My friend, I hope you settling in well on the White Pine. I have had quite the experience here on the Arrow. Too much insanity to even describe. But it all came out well in the end. You'll be pleased to know that I have kept up with your combat training lessons. I have been working on the next level in the discipline. It's exhilarating and fun. I sincerely hope to never need to use any of it in a live circumstance. I did have a chance to do a demonstration when I was on Deneva though. Be glad (If you could be glad, I know, I know) you did not have that school assignment. I was thinking kindly of you (as I always do) during my last mission, as I was working with a Vulcan and our many past interactions were instructive in my work with her. It helped me enormously. So I thank you. You need not worry though. (I know you would worry but never admit to it. Save your protestations.) I did not tell her about that time we logically decided to evade curfew and attend that music show. I know that disclosure would shame your family, etc... (I am rolling my eyes human style right here.) So I shall keep that in reserve for a suitable blackmail experience in the future. The ship's crew is quite interesting. I've enjoyed all of the interactions I have had. But you can counsel me (again!) on eating the wrong thing at the wrong time, for the 15,000th time. (I am sure in your Vulcan head you have the exact number.) Right before I met my new Captain, I ate some human food that didn't agree and it made for an abbreviated meeting. I should have learned by now to keep your wise counsel. I still regret that we did not get the same assignment, as I think us being in the fleet together would have been great. Team "Blue Point" would have been unstoppable. Just like we were in Parrises Squares together. Please do let me know how you are settling in and if you have had any fun missions thus far. Or as you would say "Satisfactorily concluded missions with beneficial outcomes." I have had 4 years of practice deciphering your Vulcan ways, my friend. You can't fool me. Your Best Bolian Friend, Zenno ----------------------------------- TO: Lt (jg) T'Lyra, DS 33 FROM: Ens Zenno, USS Arrow I am pleased that we are working together on this analysis of the Tri-Phasic devices. Enclosed you will find several baseline comparisons I have made between our subject and several related but more primitive devices I was able to discover in our data banks. I would not share this publicly, but I do suspect a Romulan design in this technology. I have noted several similarities between the node structures and the peculiar collimator construction. Do you concur? On a personal note, I hope you are fully recovered from the experience in the Freighter. There is no reason to rush to the analysis, if you are still on light duty. Taking some time for restoration would be the logical thing to do, after all. Kindest Regards, Ens Zenno ----------------------------------- TO: Ens Zenno, USS Arrow FROM: Lt (jg) T'Lyra, DS 33 Your concern has been noted. The speed of my analysis is unhindered by my experiences on the ship. However, I will make allowances since you are likely unaccustomed to the high speed and pinpoint accuracy of our Security team, due to your situation. oO My situation? Is she serious with this? I can't tell. Is she still "Vulcan Mad" at me for questioning her logic when we were on the freighter? Oo It is well that you had discovered the Romulan design cues. I had already seen them but I thought best to leave them unmentioned as a learning moment for you. oO She is most certainly having a go. Very well, I shall respond. Prepare to accept a barrage, Vulcan Lady. Oo I will share the results of our deep level scans as soon as practicable. With Respects, Lt T'Lyra ----------------------------------- TO: Ens Saava, USS White Pine FROM: Ens Zenno, USS Arrow What a pleasant sound it is when the computer tells me I have a message from you! I am so happy that you are finding your place on the White Pine. And thank you for updating me on the exact number of times you have advised me on my dietary choices. I did make sure to put in for leave for the Parrises Squares Grand Championships on Argelius II. I hope we both get to go. I know you cannot admit it, but I know you miss me. I'm going to see if I can find a time we are both off-duty at the same time for a call. I had mentioned that I am working with another Vulcan officer on a project? Things are not going well, and I am sorely in need of your opinion. Plus I am sorely in need of beating you in another late night Kal-Toh session. (You need not remind me that you are in the lead, but not by much. I do remember these things!) Your friend, Zenno ----------------------------------- TO: Lt (jg) T'Lyra, DS 33 FROM: Ens Zenno, USS Arrow Colleague T'Lyra Thank you for your thoughtful analysis and reports. I have annotated several areas that could use a level 3 scan with a molecular analyzer. Also, enclosed are my notes on the logs of the live scans I was able to conduct when the device was operational. I made sure the report text was as dry and soulless as a desert landscape, since I assume that would be your preference. oO Now I'm starting to sound like Nardello. It's like we are both little clones of him, fighting each other. Oo I appreciate the pinpoint accuracy of the DS 33 Security team. I hope everyone is well after getting completely taken over by amateur mercenaries and placing the whole sector at risk. We could assist in bringing more counseling teams to the station, if needed. I would be pleased to speak to our Captain on your behalf if this would be salutary. Please do let us know. With Kindest Regards, Ens Zenno ----------------------------------- TO: Ens Zenno, USS Arrow FROM: Lt (jg) T'Lyra, DS 33 Receiving your last transmission was agreeable. The live scan notes are helpful in determining the proper power settings that they had used in the operation of the devices. oO ... Is T'Lyra enjoying this? In her weird Vulcan way? These people are a mystery, truly. I think Saava may be the only Vulcan whom I can get along with. Oo Attached you will find the requested molecular scans. I've taken the liberty of removing any obscure words with more than three syllables from the report. I understand your species is from a water planet and there was no need to flood you with complicated language. oO Bless the waters! I can't believe I just read that. That sounds like Nardello. Oo If the Arrow should be able to make its way to DS 33 again, you would be welcome to enjoy our physical combat regimen that I run with the Security Team. Repeated defeat can be fruitful and instructive. oO It is on, as the humans say. Oo Very Respectfully, Lt T'Lyra ----------------------------------- TO: Lt (jg) T'Lyra, DS 33 FROM: Ens Zenno, USS Arrow Esteemed Colleague T'Lyra I have studied the molecular scans you have provided. The data was extremely useful. I have been able to experiment in replicating some of the processor elements. I am attaching some of the saved replicator designs I have made. Additional work is needed in this area if we are to attempt a prototype and I think we can do even more together. I am gratified at the success we have achieved thus far. I hope you would agree that this collaboration is proceeding well. As for your invitation to engage in your combat routine, I would happily accept the next time the ship is forced to visit DS 33. I look forward to providing you with extremely close up details of the training room deck. I would be pleased to assist in this. oO Why am I being like this? Why is she bringing this out? She's got a lot of our old Chief's attitude in her, I think. Or maybe she was just as scarred as me, but in her Vulcan way? I need to talk to Saava and get her opinion. Oo Most Respectfully, Ens Zenno ----------------------------------- TO: Ens Zenno, USS Arrow FROM: Lt (jg) T'Lyra, DS 33 Our collaboration has been most satisfactory and stimulating. I have further refined the designs you have provided. There were numerous errors I had corrected on your behalf in the coding. But it was a valiant effort. oO Is this Vulcan for "good try?" I will practice deep breathing before replying, otherwise, it may go poorly. Remember what Saava said. Oo If we can complete the replication and produce a working device, it would be most beneficial for our careers. It would be appropriate for you to have secondary credit, given your minor assistance on the project. If you attempt to run the designs in the replicator, be sure to inform your Engineering team first, as your ship's replicators likely don't have the required resolution for some of the more delicate components. oO I will never speak of this bit to my crew mates. I suspect it would cause animosity. What a strange collaboration this is turning out to be. I like it and hate it at the same time. Oo Very Respectfully, T'Lyra ----------------------------------- TO: Lt (jg) T'Lyra, DS 33 FROM: Ens Zenno, USS Arrow Honored Colleague T'Lyra I too, have found this collaboration useful and instructive. I am delighted when I see a message from you stating that you have made further advances in the work. Some very small portions of your contributions were relevant in the larger project and I look forward to aggressively adjudicating the quantity of them with you when the project is completed. But I must point out that credit is a topic best left for after completion when we can completely analyze our respective contributions. To engage in such now would be a logic error. oO TAKE THAT! DIRECT HIT! Oo I have analyzed your corrections and they were unnecessary. I have commented them as "dunsel" in the code base. You'll see that my code incorporated some of the design flaws in the original subject. These are necessary so that the live power scans we took would match. With Kind Felicitations, Ens Zenno ----------------------------------- TO: Lt (jg) T'Lyra, DS 33 FROM: Ens Zenno, USS Arrow Hello Apologies for the double message. But I am reflecting on this entire chain of communication. We both studied under Nardello on Deneva, and I suspect that we are still under the influence of not only his courses, but his regrettable approach to interpersonal relations. Are you willing to discuss? Kind Regards, Zenno ----------------------------------- TO: Ens Zenno, USS Arrow FROM: Lt (jg) T'Lyra, DS 33 Your last communication was well-received. I have been meditating on our collaboration and it is only logical to assume that perhaps our respective experiences in the Security School in Deneva have had some long-term effects on us both. Some of those effects may not be advantageous. Logic, tempered with wisdom, is the way forward. This is a lesson that I have heard often but have not yet fully incorporated. I would be open to exploring our mutual experiences on Deneva and discovering how to take what is best from that place and leave behind what is not. I have not encountered anyone else in our role who was so similarly affected. I await your reply. T'Lyra ----------------------------------- TO: Ens Saava, USS White Pine FROM: Ens Zenno, USS Arrow Friend Saava, Your advice has been wise and useful, as always. Many thanks for your insights. It has made me rethink my approach. Have you heard from Vratak and Grall at all? I am certain they are up to no good on Starbase 88. We should plan an alumni meeting. I nominate you to arrange this. It is only logical, after all. (You may act on your unstated annoyance with me when we meet on Argelius!) Signed, One half of Team Point Blue (The obviously better half) Zenno ----------------------------------- TO: Lt (jg) T'Lyra, DS 33 FROM: Ens Zenno, USS Arrow T'Lyra, Many apologies for the delay in responding. I too, had to consider and meditate on our correspondence. We are working well together on the technical elements of this project and it is my sincere hope that we continue to do so. I am enclosing some further scans that I have conducted, as well as some refinements to the replicator design code. I have been in contact with some of my classmates from Deneva who also have much to process about the experience. We are going to have a series of facilitated discussions over subspace to talk about it. You would be most welcome to attend also and to participate to whatever degree you believe appropriate. I think there is much to be done here. I am attaching the schedule and the codes to attend. It would be delightful to see you there. Zenno ----------------------------------- TO: Ens Saava, USS White Pine FROM: Ens Zenno, USS Arrow Saava, I would be nowhere without your friendship. I think things are turning around here in my project and your steady advice has been key. However, if you think that this will make me go easy on you in our next game, you would be mistaken. Please be safe and careful on your missions. Not because I care about you, but only because I remember that you still owe me fifty credits and I wish to be repaid. Tis' only logical, no silly emotions involved. Your friend, even at a great distance, Zenno ----------------------------------- TO: Ens Zenno, USS Arrow FROM: Lt (jg) T'Lyra, DS 33 Zenno, If there are no conflicts with my duty schedule, I will attend. I still expect you will attend my combat sessions when you are in the area. T'Lyra ----------------------------------- TO: Lt (jg) T'Lyra, DS 33 FROM: Ens Zenno, USS Arrow T'Lyra, I eagerly anticipate the experience. Zenno END/NT Ensign Zenno Security Officer USS Arrow A240006Z13
  21. A great little sim that dragged me in almost immediately. Awesome job! ((Flashback - IKS Korax, years ago)) The Klingon bird of prey was a slick design, small and nimble but woefully under armed compared to other ships of the line. Against other bird of prey types, the fight was fairly even. This ship was a fairly recent design based on lessons learned from the Dominion war, better armed and armored, a tough little ship. Zabi: Shields are failing! The Korax and other members of its pack sailed into battle against other Klingon warships. Outnumbered, they maintained formation against the opposing fleet. At the helm, a much younger Banagher flew his grandfather's flagship into the fray. Zabi: We've lost the Pa'ag, commander! The Vor'ca...the N'chiv Commander: Push forward, boy! They will regret ever raising arms against House To'kra! Disrupters and torpedoes screamed from the bird of prey as its wingmates were picked off one after another. Their target was the largest ship in the opposing fleet. Uncertain of their future, the younger Banagher looked back at his dead grandfather. A surprise attack damaged the ship and the result was no one was prepared for the fight. The deceased Klingon elder laid on the floor in his own blood, their last conversation was discussing his acceptance into Starfleet Academy. Turning his head back, the young Klingon hybrid kept going. Suddenly an explosion erupted in front of him. Zabi: We're hit! A disrupter blast blew open the bridge, and there was a large scar across the viewscreen, only emergency forcefield saved the crew from being ejected into space. Banagher stared at the large hole, expecting the end and his short life began to flash before his eyes. The grim reaper won't come when you are ready for him, Banagher... A familiar voice spoke to him. As the light from a torpedo got brighter across his view, the dream ended. ((Present day - Banagher's quarters - USS Arrow)) Banagher woke up from his dream, remembering the past was never easy. Sitting up on his bed, he wiped the sweat from his brow, brushing his black hair, from his slightly less pronounced ridges. Despite being half Klingon, his features were a bit less pronounced. Genetics for cross-breeds can vary. His teeth for instance were less fang like typical Klingon as he washed himself. Putting on his fresh cleanly replicated uniform, he had replaced his comm badge with a new one. He grabbed his retractable knife and put it away. There was a coin he picked up with his family crest on it. Flicking it with his thumb, he grabs it as it falls and smacks it back onto the table. Walking over to the food replicator, Zabi: Coffee. Black. Walking out of his quarters, Banagher made his way to the mess for breakfast. TAGS anyone that want to bump into my guy Ensign Banagher Lao Zabi Helmsman USS Arrow A240004BL1
  22. @Jovenan (and @Hiro Jones) have really got us all invested in this very sweet romance from two PNPC's on the Artemis! This sim manages to capture the essence of the character and the first date jitters!
  23. I'm specifically including the opening to this sim - as it segues partway through to a different location and scene, but this first part, inter-cutting between narration and relevant quotations is so unique and striking that I felt it simply had to be appreciated here. Nice work @Nathan Richards! Full sim available here: Lt. JG Nathan Richards - Open and Closed Doors
  24. I was going to post a quote from this shore leave sim by @Dekas in the Denali thread. Then I Saw another that I was going to post. Then another. So I thought I might as well post the whole damn sim! 😂 ((Roof of Anchorage tower, Denali Station)) Dekas had done his best not to think about it too much. The fact that his apparent best friend hadn’t even tried to talk to him since he showed up. Not that it surprised him much. Om-Zora was more than aloof, and while it had certainly gotten worse in the years they hadn’t spoken, he’d always been at least a little like that. He was very good at dropping off the face of the universe and acting like Dekas didn’t exist for whatever reason. He wanted to blame it on the Vulcans, but he knew that wasn’t fair to them considering he was pretty sure they would have at least let him know if they were going to go silent for a while instead of just doing it the way Om-Zora had. So he could only blame it on him. And all of those weird bitter feelings came forth now that they were in visual range of each other. He was mad about a lot of things, and the fact that this Aurelian had picked this time to be on the same roof as him at the same time on accident annoyed him more than he wanted to admit. The tall, gold-feathered Aurelian glanced over at Dekas and gave him a small wave from the other side of the roof. Dekas’ eyes narrowed, and he threw up a hand as though to say, “what? Only a wave? That’s it? After seven years???” Om-Zora had no such need to express an emotion about this beyond a small tilt of his head as though to respond with, “You could just come over here and say hi.” This somehow made Dekas angry, feathers on his face fluffing up with that emotion. There had never been a moment he so deeply wished he had a middle finger to flip him off with. oO What if I went off-kilter and killed him? Oo That wasn’t a great thought. oO Keep it together, Dekas. You’d probably get severely court-martialed for killing him. Even if he for sure had it coming. Oo He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. He still didn’t walk over to him. It wasn’t his responsibility to be the one to make proper contact when he hadn’t been the one to cut contact in the first place. So he crossed his arms and rolled his eyes once, then made direct eye contact after the fact, and they held that eye contact for a solid minute before Om-Zora gave in and walked over to him. Om-Zora: ::in a monotone:: You are as stubborn as ever. All he felt was rage. But he was better than letting that get the best of him, and he held back the amount of profanities he had in his repertoire of known languages. Dekas: You’re so slappable right now it’s almost painful not to. And I don’t consider myself slappy, so don’t say that lightly. Seven years of absolutely nothing, and then weeks of even more nothing, while you have been on the Station. And you expected ME to come to YOU? Entitled. And stupid. You’d think with a medical degree you’d be better at not being an idiot. Om-Zora: I thought you didn’t want to talk to me. Dekas: YOU COULD HAVE ASKED! ::he lowered his voice, despite the fact they were the only two up there. Didn’t need an echo to betray him:: I mean, you could have asked. Om-Zora: You’re right. I could have. I should have. The fact that I didn’t was illogical. But I ended up getting nervous. It’s been so long, I wasn’t sure how to approach you. I am better at handling patients than I am friends, it would seem. I’m sorry. Dekas was still mad, a sorry wasn’t enough to make him not mad. But the fact he was willing to admit to there being an issue from his side did make it easier to not slap him in the moment. Om-Zora: I understand if you’re not ready to forgive it. Or if you would prefer we only be on professional terms. He spoke with that same initial monotone as if he didn’t care either way even though he clearly did care or he wouldn’t have apologized at all. oO You’re not getting out of this friendship that easily. Oo Dekas: Don't get me wrong. I'm mad, and it's extremely tempting to agree and say we go our separate ways and only interact during work hours. It would make things simpler. However, I'm not that person, and I already told you before, there is very little you could actually do that would make me not want you in my life. Even now when I'm feeling like this. Om-Zora simply nodded. Dekas: So I think I can forgive you. On one condition. Om-Zora: ::head tilt:: What condition is that? Dekas stepped close to him and backed him against the edge of the building. Dekas: This. And he shoved him right off Anchorage. Which did startle his friend enough to make a noise. oO Satisfying. Oo (What? He could fly perfectly well. Besides, he jumped off right after. And by that point, Om-Zora had already righted himself into flight.) Om-Zora: A warning would have been nice! Dekas: I thought it was implied! Om-Zora: It was not implied! He laughed and then went full speed ahead of him. Om-Zora was taller and his wingspan much larger, but Dekas had the advantage of speed and a better sense of sharp turns and landings now because of the recent tail feather growth. Dekas: Hope you haven’t gotten a proper tour yet, because I can give you a better one if you can catch up to me! Om-Zora: You could have just asked. Dekas: But then I wouldn’t have gotten to push you off the building. Om-Zora: That is an extremely illogical way to deal with your frustrations, and I hope you know that. Dekas: I do, but thanks for being such a good sport about it! He used that moment to fly upwards and very high. Angry or not, there was nothing better than a good flight with another Aurelian. Truly experience wind underneath and through his feathers and be able to know that another person felt the same. As a bonus, he got some exercise in. Thankfully it seemed Golden Boy wasn’t too bothered by the whole thing because he followed. Would it be enough to ease all the bitterness he had toward his old friend? No. But it was definitely a start. [NT / Just some bird interactions. Gotta get them in there.] — Lt. Commander Dekas Counselor Denali Station J239802D12 Pronouns: They/she (player), He/him (character)
  25. An amazing sim from @Robin Hopper. This scene is rich with character and as always so well put together. A former Borg drone getting counselling from a Vulcan? You know I'm bound to love it! Lt. JG David Flint & Ensign Ychol: The Disconnect (Part 1) (google.com)
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Terms of Use.