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  1. ((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
  2. 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!
  3. 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 ==============
  4. ((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
  5. ((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
  6. 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
  7. @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!
  8. 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
  9. 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)
  10. One of the greatest things about our format is the idea that you can release an idea into the wild and, if you're very very lucky, others will take hold of that idea and run with it in ways you never could've imagined. I started the Brew Continuum as an Ensign and somehow, years later, the idea of the little coffee shop that could but probably shouldn't has kept growing and evolving and delighting writers across the fleet. This newest installment is one of my absolute favorites and features a brilliant characterization of one of the hardest species to do well, the Children of Tama/Tamarians. Bravo @Robin Hopper! ====================================================================== ((Brew Continuum, Deck 3 – USS Artemis)) Javaris stood behind the counter of the small caffé, nestled into a nook-like room across from the ship’s Mess Hall, beaming with pride. It was now the second day since his venture had opened its doors, and with much of the crew enjoying their ‘shore leave’, he was sure that business would boom like Kaelor’s forge, its fires never ceasing. It had taken quite some convincing to talk his managers aboard Deep Space 224 into allowing him to open and operate his own franchise aboard the newly-christened USS Artemis-A but, much like Orani, with her eyes on the summit, he had persevered. Now, his hopes and dreams had been made a reality, and it was only a matter of time until his efforts would prove successful – Javaris was sure of it. So, he began puttering about, preparing for the day’s activities – grinding beans, heating steam, and flicking on the aroma dispersal unit which would fill the café with the smell of delicious baked goods. Javaris: ::Sighing contentedly:: Raesh and Jorin, sailing prosperous seas… As he predicted, it was not long before the first customers of the day found their way into his establishment, and his work could begin in earnest. Jibrore, piping hot. Macchiato, its foam extra frothy. Raktajino, its intensity tempered with oat milk… The hours of day sailed along as one, by one, new loyal customers were earned through the crucible of dedicated and studious mastery of the arts of caffeination and customer service. Many of his first customers were, predictably, those already familiar with the Brew Continuum’s outlet aboard the Spacedock… Engineering Crewmen who had been tasked with assisting the Artemis’ crew in their repair efforts whilst the vessel was docked. After several hours, however, a new and altogether unfamiliar face entered – a most auspicious visitor… One of the Artemis’ own complement of Starfleet Officers. The Tamarian barista waved cheerily, greeting the newcomer and inviting them to experience one (or several) of the Brew Continuum’s delightful offerings. Javaris: ::Grinning:: Amara's hearth, its embers glow for all who draw near! Any: Response Javaris nodded, eagerly, happy to attend to the officer’s caffeic needs and desires. He indicated the menu, projected onto a screen above his head so that daily offerings could be customized depending on the availability of fresh ingredients (after all, much like Raesh and Jorin on their journey of trade, once the Artemis ‘set sail’, it could well be some time before they made port again). Javaris: ::Indicating the breadth of available options:: Temba, his arms wide, with pastries abundant... Any: Response Clapping his hands together, Javaris exulted in his customer’s selection. It was a fine choice – and one which he would dearly enjoy preparing as well. Javaris: ::Reacting favourably:: Mirab, receiving nectar from the stars! With the order input into his inventory tracking system, Javaris moved to his devices and began preparing the order. However, customer service neither began nor ended with the preparation of goods. No, no, it began and ended with connection. With that in mind, he attempted to engage his visitor in polite, yet friendly, conversation… Javaris: ::Indicating himself:: Javaris, the huntress’ humble barista. ::Indicating the newcomer:: Lumara's tapestry, woven with shared stories? Any: Response TAG / TBC == PNPC Javaris (he/him) Proprietor & Barista, Brew Continuum USS Artemis-A V239806K11
  11. 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)
  12. Really enjoyed this little slice of life from @Oddas Aria and @Alex Forsyth. (( Kingsley’s Quarters )) Gwen was not used to so much space, so her wardrobe was still relatively limited - uniforms and a small collection of civilian clothes. For the occasion, she selected a cotton dress that felt modest enough for a second date, but casual enough for the setting. Blue and red, it had been a gift from her family, they meant well but its cut and color was not exactly her favorite. A brush of the hair later, she managed to get out the door and to the bar on time, and found a table near the source of music, but close enough to a wall to afford some privacy. ((Alex’s quarter, Anchorage, Denali station)) Alex stood in front of her tall mirror, Trying out her fourth outfit so far as none of the others suited her. So now she was trying on a simple Jumper, shirt and jeans. It was the best she had, Fashion wasn’t her thing. oO It will have to do….Oo She looked at her clock to see it is nearly time for her and Gwen date. Alex quickly tidied up her room by chucking them into the dresser and beelined towards the door. Once there she stop just before the door to mobius, Forsyth: ::To herself:: Ok, You did this before. It's just a date, It's not as bad as rocks falling from the sky or getting eaten by a space whale….. With one deep, soft breath, Alex steps inside. It was like how she last remembered it, back on her first day with Lt. Commander Stelek. It was surprising to see the bar had received from the harrowing event, The asteroid attack left much of the ring city in a right sorry state. Making her way farther in, She spotted the Dark haired Marine sitting by one of the tables along the wall. She flashed the Marine with an awkward smile as she walked up, trying to look cool but coming off as more goofy. Forsyth: Hey, Gwen. Kingsley: Hey there, how are you? Forsyth::Blushing:: Y-You look great, tonight. Gwen motioned for the seat across from her as Alex sat down, Unsure what to say next. Forsyth: So, How have you been? Kingsley: Good, keeping busy with training and rebuilding - now that the med folks think I’m fully recovered. Forsyth: Cool, I’ve been busy here and there. That was an understatement…. Gwen grinned and cocked her neck to the side - she knew the other woman had been busy off the Ring - and that some things were out of her pay scale. Just then, a waiter came over, Readying his PADD. Waiter: Hello, what are you having? Alex grabbed the drink menu, giving it a look through. Forsyth: I’ll have some scotch with ice, please. Kingsley: ::without looking:: Same, straight up. Waiter: Right, Anything else? Forsyth: Not for me, Gwen? She gave it a thought - Gwen had given working all day, training, running, and then doing her usual recon shift through ten more square blocks of the city. Kingsley: I hope you won’t think less of me, but I haven’t eaten since 0600? Forsyth: Not at all, I’ve been there a few times myself. Kingsley: ::to the waiter:: Whatever passes for a cheeseburger, no tomatoes, medium rare, large order of fries, ketchup on the side. If you have bacon, there’s an extra tip in it for you. The man smiled and made some notes. Waiter: I think we can manage. Forsyth: You know what, I’ll have the same. It has been a while since I had a meal that was…real. Waiter: Ok, we’ll get on that. As he hurried off for their order, Gwen turned back to Alex. Kingsley: Thanks, I needed that. ::beat:: So, what are your plans for shore leave? Forsyth: Oh, Just catch on some art or reading, maybe do some sightseeing. Kingsley: I haven’t made it that far out, I feel like I’ve been cooped up for too long. Forsyth: Same, been working non-stop since I’ve been promoted. Gwen nodded. She had been around long enough to know how promotions worked, the move up from Ensign to Lieutenant was a big one for a lot of the regular officers - one that could test a lot of relationships. Even Marines could struggle with that transition, though they tended to be a little more regimented and that helped make sure the transition was a bit less bumpy, a bit more professional. Kingsley: From what I can tell, you deserved it. Forsyth: Thanks, I’m still surprised by it. Kingsley: Planning to hit anything in particular in the city? Forsyth: Not really, I still don’t know a lot about this area. Kingsley: On patrol I came across a large, I guess you’d call it a park. Green space, with lots of trees and green, and what looked like some sort of tables and things right smack in the middle of a bunch of buildings. It covered easily a dozen blocks, but it also had a large lake in the middle of it. Forsyth: Sounds incredible. The waiter brought their drinks and slid them in front expertly without interrupting them, Gwen nodded ‘thanks’ and picked it up held it in her left hand. Kingsley: Exactly. Forsyth: You must have been thrilled to discover something like that. Kingsley: I was on patrol, it was just one of those things. It was interesting to see a thriving green space in the middle of so much city. Really reminds you sometimes that wherever you go, whatever you see, things stay the same. Alex took a sip of her drink, happy to just listen. Gwen raised her drink, but sat it down. Kingsley: It even had a little waterfall off to one side, flowing from one side of a building. I wonder if it was originally like that or if something broke down, but I haven’t had a chance to go back and find out. Forsyth: I’ll be sure to add that to my list, Might be a good place to do some painting. Kingsley: Painting?. Forsyth: It is not my favourite of hobbies, I do like to just draw or build models mainly. The Waiter returned with their food, placing a plate down in front of each of them. They looked amazing, smelling good as well. Alex took a bite of hers, tasting it a little. Gwen took the moment to taste her drink - good, but not the best she had had. Forsyth: Oh wow, This is good. Kingsley: That’s good to hear. The Marine picked up the burger and looked it over before decided on a line of attack, before finally finding a way that worked and sinking in for a large bite. Forsyth: Good, Isn’t it. Kingsley: ::between chew::Very. ::beat:: Oh, I almost forgot. Forsyth: What? Kingsley: The little park, there were these little paths, like something, had been moving through it, herds of something. Gwen swallowed and held her hand over her face while she sought a napkin. Forsyth: Herd, Like wild animals? How deep were the tracks? Kingsley: Seven or Eight stone? Walking on three or four legs, tracking, is not my best suit. Forsyth: Wow that's incredible.. For the dance floor, the music began a much louder series of beats, and to Gwen’s ear a steadier series of horns, closer to Earth music even if what was passing for words were nothing her vocal cords could reproduce. Forsyth: What were they like, Big or small? Kingsley: ::grinning:: I have no idea. Forsyth: So what happened to this park, Is now being used again or not? Kingsley: Well, like most things we find, it's just cataloged and waiting for us, the crew, to have enough people to matter. Alex continued to listen while eating her food, hearing stories like this were all her favourites. She remembered the ones her dad told her, about alien worlds and lost cities. Gwen tried the fries, which were good, but were not made from potatoes. Forsyth: I would love to explore something like that, Uncovering lost secrets. Alex did get somewhat explore one of the buildings with Kenrick and Fairhug, making sure it was safe for the Mithgiln. Kingsley: To be fair, all you need to do, is step outside ::she gestured outside with her hand, still holding her burger:: get yourself on a duty schedule. The station is kinda brilliant that way. Alex smiled, the music had changed to something different but still with a beat. Forsyth: Get anything for your collection recently? Kingsley: ::perking up::My dad just sent me a great simulation of a steam locomotive, when we get holodecks up and running it will be an excellent immersive workshop. Forsyth: Steam Locomotive, Those used to be my dad's favourite too. Kingsley: Maybe we should introduce them some day. The music picked up and Gwen thought she recognized a beat, even if she didn’t recognize the song itself. It was slower than several of it predecessors, almost danceable, and she took the opportunity set her food down and make the universal sign for “do you want to dance?” Alex: Sure, Although I’m a bit rusty. Getting up and following Kingsley to the dancefloor, A bit of her felt nervous but also a little bit curious by it. oO Now don't step on her foot.... Oo End. _____________________ Lieutenant.Jg Alex Forsyth Tactical Denali Station D239910AF1 Warrant Officer, 2C Gwen Kingsley Cyber Warfare Officer Lightning Aldabrans Written by Fleet Captain Oddas Aria Commanding Officer Denali Station E239305OA0
  13. Gotta give some appreciation to Ensign Raimor for this sim. It's very well written and was nice to learn more about Raimor's relationship dynamics between people in his family through this.
  14. Look, I'm not saying that the Artemis has the ABSOLUTE BEST PNPC in the entire damn fleet... But we SO do. @Jovenan's PNPC, a Trill Engineer with a habit of knocking in officer heads with a spanner and mentally badmouthing the bridge crew at every chance she gets, has taken us by storm, and many of us look forward to Jozial Renirs' appearances with absolute glee. Obviously, you all shouldn't be any different. (Also, if you want to maniacally cackle as you see 'The Hyperspanner Hitman' go ham on Osuna's skull during their first meeting, here you are.)
  15. Founds this when stalking Artemis' IC List by puuuure coincidence. I really like the descriptions here and the way @Hiro Jones conveys his character's feelings and past experiences. Well done ❤️ Best. Shoreleave. Ever. Lieutenant JG Hiro Jones, MD PhD USS Artemis-A, Counselor E239510KD0 "Waste no more time arguing about what a good man should be. Be one." - Marcus Aurelius
  16. I thought this was a cute post from a child's perspective! (Central Mining Office - Viamatellum, Central Tholus - Esh-o Colony)) Nephesh had brought the aliens to the real leader of the mining colony. The big boss was a relation—probably an uncle—he had lots of them—but Nephesh didn’t know him that well. But still, an Esh-o was always preferable to a Zet. Perhaps these new space invaders would be more friendly. Engish-go-ondesh: ::regarding Nephesh:: Who have you dragged into my office this time, nephew? ::looking at the Starfleet officers:: I'm afraid I can't help you all with jobs, I'm rather busy. Aphris seems to have sent a nebula monster to eat my mines. Corelli: Oh, actually we're here to stop the nebula monsters from eating your asteroid and destroying the colony. oO AH HA! Oo Nephesh knew that there had to be some sort of space monsters involved! Kel: ::picking his hat up off his head:: Hello there. Herrick: Nice to meet you, you are Engish-go-ondesh? oO The big cheese here? Oo Nephesh : ::enthusiastically:: He’s the BIGGEST cheese here! Nephesh didn’t understand what “cheese” was, but when it came to size, English-go-ondesh was quite large. Richards: Response Engish-go-ondesh: ::folding his arms and regarding the aliens:: My engineers have been trying to figure out something for days. We've even paid the Zet for consultation. ::sourly:: With nothing to show for it. Why should I believe you can help? Corelli: Starfleet engineers have a way of dealing with such things. By the way, who is this yelling Zet? Something about paying for parking? Engish-go-ondesh: He's simply the Zet handler for the area. We've outsourced some of the cleaning and maintenance activities to the Zet. He reports up the ladder to some higher up. If you ask me he has something stuck in his posterior. Kel: I could take a look at that for him. I'm a doctor. Nephesh: Don’t help the Zet. They don’t help anyone else unless they get money. Richards: Response Engish-go-ondesh: ::looking at Corelli and Herrick:: So engineers (beat) what is your plan? Corelli: Oh the plan! Yes, well we need you to split this asteroid in half. Kel: Obviously we'll need to make sure everyone is safe, but once we split your asteroid we can pull the safe end away from the nebula. Nephesh: “Split the asteroid!?” How would you do that? (beat, then excited) Do you have space lasers!? Richards: Response Engish-go-ondesh: I think you should have brought more doctors along. If you don't do it just right you could do as much damage as the nebula. Herrick: Your concern is valid sir. (beat) That’s why it would be helpful if you were able to share any data you have about the asteroid this colony sits on. Composition, density, how the tunnels are structured. The more precise you are, the better our chances would be. Corelli: Oh yes, see, we don't want to do it for you, we actually need your assistance. It's your mine. Nephesh was getting bored with the conversation. He hoped it would get back to space lasers soon. Maybe he should go see what Keve-ar was up to. Kel / Richards: Response Engish-go-ondesh: The asteroid is full of passages, several of which lead far from here and toward the nebula. We have explosives that would allow for a big bang. ::pausing:: How do you propose to move the colony once the separation has occurred. Assuming we're not all dead. Explosions and big bangs were cool. Nephesh started paying attention again. oO Wait, did he just say “all dead?” Oo Corelli: The 'Oumuamua The alien was making up more words again. Nephesh: What’s an ‘ooh-moo-moo?’ Richards: Response Uncle activated the holo-table. Nephesh loved the holo-table, sometimes he could look at cool spaceships. Unfortunately, Uncle just called up a display of the asteroid. The asteroid was boring and familiar. Maybe he’d take off. But then, they brought up explosions again and Nephesh decided to stick around. Engish-go-ondesh: We can place explosives anywhere in the mining network. There are several sites to choose from. Corelli: I see the problem. We can help you build a solution, but people don't like change. Nephesh: ::hopeful:: Are we going to blow the colony up to smithereens!? Nephesh’s favorite holo-story had an action hero (Captain Play-ent) who was always blowing things to smithereens. It was the best. Richards: Response Kel: ::looking at Engish:: Can I ask how many people are in this colony? More importantly, how many can you evacuate if necessary? Oh right. The people. It was probably a good idea to not blow up the Esh-o to smithereens… But maybe the Zet? Engish-go-ondesh: There are 9,287 souls here. I have transport for 2, maybe 3000. Corelli: That leaves 2,287. That's not going to work. We would need a larger ship. Nephesh: Do you know of a larger ship? The vessel that the aliens had come on seemed kinda small. And it was falling to pieces in the arboretum. But aliens in stories usually had a mother-ship. Richards: Response Kel: We should contact Oumuamua. We need them to come here to rescue these people in case our plan fails. Corelli: The York is down, and with heavy interference I'm not sure it would be powerful enough to reach the ship. Perhaps the colony has a transponder? The grown-ups were talking in worried tones again. It was making Nephesh nervous. Nephesh: I think I should go check-in with my parents. If the aliens were going to blow the place up, Nephesh wanted to be with his mom and dad. Richards / Engish-go-ondesh: Response Herrick: But that leaves a shortfall of 2,000 folks since the ‘Oumuamua can only carry about 4,000 evacuees. There isn’t enough room. Are there any other decently-sized crafts in the vicinity? Ships Nephesh knew. Unfortunately, there weren't many large local ships. Nephesh: ::sullenly:: No. The biggest ships that come through here are Zet carriers, but they’re not scheduled to stop by here again until next week. Kel / Richards / Engish-go-ondesh: Response Corelli: I don't think the Esh-o have large ships? The lights dimmed for a moment, as they had been all over the place recently. Herrick: Is that normal, or something new? Nephesh: It’s been happening a lot lately—more the last couple of days. Kel / Richards: Response Corelli: ::speaking in a lower tone:: =/\= Corelli calling! 'Oumuamua, come in please =/\= The alien with the more normal looking head was using some machine in the corner that Nephesh hadn’t seen used before. Maybe he was calling his mother ship. Kel / Richards / Herrick / Engish-go-ondesh: Response Corelli: You know, if there is a larger ship, that would help. Maybe the Zet have one? Doubt it... ::he pressed the transmit button again:: =/\= Corelli calling 'Oumuamua, come in 'Oumuamua =/\= It seemed everyone was now paying attention to the shiny-headed man talking into a machine, but the machine only played back static. Then, out of the static, a voice: Nilsen: =/\= This is the ‘Oumuamua. We read you =/\= The aliens seemed happy about that and continued their focus on the voice in the box. Corelli / Kel / Richards / Herrick / Engish-go-ondesh: Response Nephesh: Does that mean we’re not going to get blowed up? Corelli / Kel / Richards / Herrick / Engish-go-ondesh: Response That was not at all reassuring. Nephesh: I think I better go home now! Without listening to the reply, Nephesh darted out of the room. Corelli / Kel / Richards / Herrick / Engish-go-ondesh: Response [[end scene for Nephesh, for now]] -- Nephesh Esh-o Wetling Cor-el Ridge Colony O239910AP4
  17. Love to see glimpses into the lives of fellow crew members, like this offering from @Kailar Tod. 🙂👍🏻 ((Personal Log - Starfleet Shuttle, Near Trillius Prime)) It has been a couple of days since the mission concluded, and I find myself on a shuttle headed for Trillius Prime, my home planet. The journey has been quiet, allowing me some time to reflect on the events of the recent mission. I am grateful for the successful outcome and for the camaraderie share with my fellow crewmates on the USS Eagle. As the shuttle glides through the stars, I can't help but think about the mysteries that have been haunting me. Chief among them is te disappearance of Joran, my former bondmate. It has been years since he vanished without a trace, leaving me with unanswered questions and a void in my heart. While I may be on a personal journey to meditate and train, a part of me knows tat I can never truly leave behind the search for him. I hope that in spending time on Trillius Prime, I may find some clarity and closure. The shuttle arrives on Trillius Prime, and I step out onto familiar soil. A sense of tranquility washes over me as I take in the serene surroundings. I am home. The journey to my isolated house is one I have taken countless times, yet it always feels like a new beginning. It is a place where I can strengthen my body and mind, where I can delve deep into the mysteries that have been eluding me for far too long. For now, I take comfort in knowing that I am on the right path. ((End Personal Log)) ((Kailar's House, Trillius Prime)) Nestled amid the serene beauty of Trillius Prime, Kailar's house stood as a testament to his desire for solitude and reflection. The quaint dwelling blended seamlessly with the natural surroundings, its architecture and design harmoniously integrated with the picturesque landscape. It was a place where the Trill found peace and solace, away from the bustling world of starships and intergalactic missions. As Kailar approached the house, he couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity and comfort wash over him. The tall trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves rustling softly like a soothing melody. He took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp, clean air, scented with the fragrance of the nearby flowers. Tod: It's good to be back. His steps were measured, deliberate, as he ascended the wooden steps leading to the front porch. The soft creaking of the wood beneath his feet added to the ambiance of the tranquil setting. Unlocking the door, Kailar stepped inside and was greeted by the warmth of his home. The interior was adorned with various artifacts and art pieces, each telling a story of its own. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with volumes of knowledge and wisdom, a testament to Kailar's thirst for understanding the mysteries of the universe. A large window overlooked a small garden, where Kailar had cultivated an assortment of colorful flowers and plants. Gardening had become one of his favorite pastimes, a way to connect with nature and find moments of serenity amidst the complexities of life. Moving further inside, he found his meditation room, a place of silence and tranquility. Here, he could escape the distractions of the outside world and delve deep into his thoughts, seeking answers and insights that often eluded him. As the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden hue over the landscape outside, Kailar found himself drawn to the small study in the house. It was here that he kept his personal logs, detailing his thoughts, emotions, and reflections on life's journey. Seated at the desk, he activated a holographic display and began to transcribe his recent experiences, including his contemplation of joining as a Trill. The idea had been growing in his mind, and he knew that becoming a joined Trill would be a profound and life-changing decision. Lost in thought, he took a moment to look at a holographic image of Joran. It showed a joyful moment they had shared during a trip. The memory was bittersweet, a reminder of the happiness they had once shared, and the uncertainty that had followed Joran's disappearance. Kailar's mind drifted back to the mysteries he sought to unravel—the truth about Joran's vanishing, the enigmatic circumstances surrounding it, and the lingering questions about his own purpose and identity. The journey to self-discovery was far from over, and he was determined to find the answers he sought. As the night fell, Kailar leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the stars through the large window. The vastness of the cosmos reminded him of the infinite possibilities that lay ahead. He knew that his journey was just beginning, and that his time on Trillius Prime was only a stepping stone in the grand tapestry of his life. Kailar closed his eyes, embracing the tranquility of the moment. The mysteries of the universe beckoned to him, and he was ready to embark on whatever path lay ahead, knowing that the pursuit of truth and understanding was a journey that would last a lifetime. NT / TBC ------ Ensign Kailar Tod Tactical Officer Denali Station D240006KT3
  18. This sim by @Wil Ukinix is quite impressive - not only for its breadth and attention to detail, and its seamless blending of Prime and Mirror Universe lore from various Trek series, but also for the fact that it is a solo sim. Kudos for this awesome, engaging, and thrilling read!
  19. Really enjoyed reading @Freck's Gallamite mercenary Captain. Possibly the first villain I've ever felt sorry for? 😅 Looking forward to him possibly popping up again somewhere down the line. 👀 (( Corridors, Mercenary Ship Proficiency )) Delmer was practically chuckling with glee as the doors to the escape bay were finally blasted open and he watched the disruptor rifles of his security team fire through the doorway. It was even more gratifying when they made ground, stepping through the doorway and into the bay specifically. He was in the middle of wishing for some Gramilian sand peas to snack on as he watched the streaks of orange and green rip across his display, when suddenly one of them that had climbed into the pod called out and then, the unthinkable began to happen! The last of them started to retreat into the pod. Delmer: What? They’re getting away, shoot them down! Ah, of course, shooting them down. There was more than one way of accomplishing that, which he’d alluded to in his threats to the Starfleet crew earlier. Time to put his money where his mouth was. With a quick movement, the Gallamite clicked the comms panel. Delmer: =/\= Bridge, this is Delmer. Are sensors good enough for a target lock? =/\= Kutel: =/\= Uhhhh…like…a weapons lock? =/\= He couldn’t help but sigh. He did not have time for this. Delmer: =/\= Yes, Kutel, a weapons lock. I’m not playing around anymore. =/\= He practically ground the words out around his clenched teeth. Kutel: =/\= Uh…I can shoot, sir, no problem there, but…what am I going to be shootin’ at? =/\= Delmer: =/\= In a few seconds, you’re going to— =/\= Suddenly, the whole ship lurched to the side, and Delmer was once again thrown to the ground. He had to blink a couple of times before awareness came back, but it was awareness of rushing wind that brought him back and with a surge of adrenaline. They had ANOTHER hull breach?! What the hell happened in there? He thrust himself to his feet, but before he could even check to see if his team was still alive, a flash of fur and his First Officer was clinging to the panel, punching in the emergency commands to seal the pod bay with a forcefield. Delmer: What do you think you’re doing? We have crew in there! M’Raak turned on him, and Delmer was shocked not at the rage in her eyes, but the sadness. M’Raak: Don’t you think I know that? This ship – Your­ ship – is falling apart at the seams! It was them or the whole lot of us! The Gallamite stumbled back in disbelief. There was no way he’d just sit idly by while those damnable officers murdered his crew and lived to tell the tale. He punched in comms to the bridge again. Delmer: =/\= Kutel, I swear, I better hear about pod debris in the next five seconds, or so help me… =/\= Kutel: =/\= Aye, sir, I figured out what you were askin’ fer. I got the pods. All of ‘em. =/\= All of them? He glanced at M’Raak, who had moved to stare through the shimmering field at whatever damage had been wrought to his ship. She looked back with just sadness now. At least they had vengeance. Kutel: =/\= There is…uh…one thing, though, sir. =/\= Delmer: =/\= What is it, Kutel?! =/\= Kutel: =/\= Now that the sensors are clearin’ up a bit, it does look like there might be some residual transporter activity around the pods? Is that— =/\= The communications were cut short once more, but rather than an explosion, it was just the Captain’s fist literally punching the button to end the call, denting the panel in the process. Delmer: That’s fine, I can…I can still track them. I can still lure them back with…wait… Where was the communicator? The entire foundation of this plan, it was in his pocket, he’d literally just been feeling it in his pocket and now it was gone?! That was it, he couldn’t take it anymore! Delmer: Damn you, Falt! I swear to the stars themselves, I’ll…I’ll…! He was so chocked for words he couldn’t even get the words out. He wanted to swear vengeance, he wanted to curse him, he wanted to…he wanted to scream and cry and get all of the raw emotion out, but he just…couldn’t. Instead, he sank to his knees in the middle of the corridor. Defeated. He was defeated. All of his plans, his machinations, all of it. All of it was for naught. And yet, as Caitian fingers gripped his shoulder, he was reminded that he wasn’t yet alone. She spoke gently, calmly. M’Raak: Come on, Captain. Delmer. We need to get this vessel spaceworthy and get out of this system before Starfleet finishes up and decides to come after us. Delmer: Does…does the cloak work still? M’Raak: I believe so. That would give us the time we need. The Gallamite nodded weakly. Delmer: Then we should activate cloak and effect repairs. M’Raak: Aye, sir. I’ll get our engineers right on that. You go back to your ready room and recover. He shook his head and climbed back to his feet. Delmer: No, no, I’m a member of the crew the same as all of you. I won’t let you have all the fun. M’Raak got a sad smile on her muzzle. M’Raak: Good. Besides, I know you. You’ve still got tricks up your sleeve, and it’ll be good to distract that big thinker of yours. The Gallamite rolled his eyes. She did know him well. And as they set off towards Engineering to hide their ship, he couldn’t help but think that yes, he did still have tricks up his sleeve, and this certainly wouldn’t be the last that Lieutenant Commander Falt, or the Eagle, for that matter, would see of him. NT/END for Delmer's reign of terror...for now ---------------------- MSNPC Delmer Mercenary Captain Written By Lieutenant Junior Grade Freck Science Officer Denali Station D239911F12
  20. @Doz Finch has a gift for dialogue and is such a fantastic storyteller. I can't wait to read more! Fantastic work! 👏
  21. Okay I just posted one quote from this sim in the general appreciations thing for @Kettick, but frankly, it doesn't do justice to the fact that this entire sim is a goldmine of funny things.
  22. The tension, the yearning, the stifling of emotions. A brilliant sim from @Bryce Tagren-Quinn in what has been a fascinating story to read during this shore leave. Also kudos to @Tahna Meru too! I'm hanging on by a thread in every sim. 👏 Ensign Bryce Tagren-Quinn - Of Realities (google.com)
  23. @Alora DeVeau is an excellent writer, this post being just one amazing example out of many, showing how descriptive writing can bring characters, scenes and emotions to life. Definitely a role model! ❤️ ------------ (( The Inkhawmna, Yansamin Anchorage, Outskirts of the Esh-O star system )) Despite being on duty, Peri was not in uniform. In accordance with Commander Etan’s order, she had elected to dress in simple, civilian clothing. A simple shirt with a high v-neck of a medium green was overlain by a laced overs shirt of dark green. Her slacks were of the same green hue. The very Bajoran style matched part of her heritage, but unknowingly punctuated the other part of her heritage. Her earring dangled as usual from her ear, and her hand reached up to check for the pendant which was now missing, in the care of the man who held her heart. Letting it fall, her fingers traced the lines of the brown satchel that hung from her shoulder. Dark eyes fell upon the Commander who had dressed just as casually. He looked every inch the wandering trader, and Tyber? Who would dare to try and hurt them with a man like him around? Peri silently admitted, he cut an impressive figure, and she found relief settling within her breast at the idea that he was with them. Arlill was, perhaps, the most conspicuous of them all, but only due to his own heritage which was quite evident. Even so, his clothes as casual as everyone else’s helped sell the idea that they were certainly not trained Starfleet Officers. Etan: No ranks from this point on. :: he said quietly, affecting the air of somebody talking casually. :: Given names only. :: he looked at Ensign Tyber, remembering a notation in the half-Klingon's personnel file. :: Apart from you. Tyber will do just fine. Tyber: Thank you. :: the Klingons voice rumbled in the lower octaves of hearing :: Arlill: My first name might be ill-advised as well, being so easily translated into a potential hazard? Katsim: Oh…yes, si…Iljor. So Peri she was and Peri she would be. She was not used to being called by her name when on duty, nor was she used to calling others in such an informal fashion. She made a mental note to be certain that she would not let her tongue slip, for by doing so, she could endanger their mission. Glancing over at Toxin, both eyebrows arched upward slightly, uncertain as to whether she should use his last or first name, but Etan himself continued on. Etan: Try not to get distracted. :: his eyes fell upon a slender young man carrying a steaming bag of something that smelled divine. As if to underscore the point, his stomach rumbled. : As difficult as that may be. Remember, we are 'on mission'. Poor Etan looked positively famished, and his stomach’s protest was loud enough just to be heard. Tyber must have had the same temptation, for he had already already approached a vendor and procured four skewers of meat. Turning, he lifted the skewers high as if he had achieved a great victory which, in a sense, he had. Tyber: What? I got enough for all of us Arlill: :: looking at the others :: I could eat. Peri accepted the bit of meat and inclined her head. Katsim: Thank you. She hadn’t expected anything, but offered a tentative smile to the mighty half Klingon before nibbling on his gift. Etan: We're looking for information. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the place on this station supposed to be the bars? Tyber: :: quickly swallowing and pointing the empty skewer to a seedy looking building :: I think the bars are over there S....so if you want to buy us all a round Etan. Arlill: :: quietly to Tyber, in a low breath :: Smooth. It was smooth. All of them would have to watch themselves and make sure to prevent slip ups. Peri herself didn’t relish drinking, especially while on duty, but she’d sit and nurse a glass if need be. At least now there was something in her stomach. Katsim: Should we? Her eyes traversed upward to fall upon signs that indicated what was in which direction how to get there. Without hesitation, Etan made a choice and beckoned the rest of them. Etan: Come on. :: he said, jerking his head in the correct orientation. :: This way. Everyone followed diligently and without protest. Peri kept her head down in an effort to look as inconspicuous as possible. She wasn’t the only Bardassian in existice, and considering the closeness of the Celestial Temple to Bajor especially, and Cardassia in general, she doubted she was the only one in the quadrant to be seen. With the increase of traffic through the Temple’s portal, people like her wouldn’t necessarily be common, but also not unheard of. Still, the lifestyle she was meant to portray was an antithesis to her personality. For her, it was best to remain simply quiet and compliant, a diligent underling who answered readily to her leadership. Her nose wrinkled as certain scents wafted her way. The pleasantries of food, the sizzling tang of meats, sharp slice of spice accompanied with the sweeter aroma of pastries and confections mingled with the rolling sourness of bodies that hadn’t elected to clean themselves in who knows how long. Her eyes darted upward, taking note of her surroundings, the mass of bodies that flowed like a river two and frow. People jostled each other without apology, a few grunts, and occasionally a shout or a growl before moving on their way. Meanwhile, the cacophony roared unceasingly between the voices of humanoids and non humanoids alike. Should they get separated, they would be hard pressed to find each other without using their hidden communicators, and doing so could still risk detection. Peri’s thoughts continued to run until she heard Tyber casually address Etan, his voice low so only his companions immediately surrounding him could hear. Tyber: Etan. don't look now but we are being followed. Peri wanted to glance back, but refrained from doing so, for that would surely tip the tail to its detection. She noticed Toxin take a glance in a window, but she was in a bad position to catch a glimpse of anything, so simply continued on and remained close to her companions. Under the cover of their bodies clustered fairly close together, Arlilly pulled out a tricorder, then tapped his badge which he must have squirrelled away in one of his pockets. Arlill: And don't look now, but we're also being watched from above. :: casually pointing his eyes down towards the tricorder :: Peri only offered the briefest of glances toward the device, for she didn’t want to draw attention to it, but it was enough for her to see exactly what Toxin did. Katsin: This isn’t good. Tyber / Etan: responses. She could hear him take a slow, deep breath and let it out in a controlled manner, as if trying to prevent himself from doing something impulsively. Arlill: I might be able to disable it remotely, but they'd know we knew. Katsim: I…I don’t think that would be a good idea. From her pouch, a soft chirp could be heard and Peri patted it once, as if to reassure the occupant that everything was all right. While she had managed to train Echo to remain behind on the ship, a feat in of itself, and one only possible if the creature was not actually *alone* but with another trusted person, Peri had elected to bring her along. Echo had proven useful in subtle ways. Although their connection was empathic only, the creature was sensitive enough to understand certain things simply by Peri using those emotions. There was not another peep and the dragonet settled down. Arlill/Etan/Tyber: responses. Katsim: It might be better to continue going as we are. We’d draw more suspicions by acting like we know we’re being watched. And the observation may simply be because we have not been seen before. While it was impossible for even a group of people to keep an eye on the incoming and outgoing visitors to a hub, a computer program with facial recognition software could compile a database and run a continuous watch. If the hub was equipped Arlill/Etan/Tyber: responses. Katsim: From what I have read of the Esh-o, some of their main exports are various metals used in shipbuilding, certain types of cheese…um…various agricultural crops, and a line of liquors they are particularly known for and are quite popular. Nervousness crept up, but Peri managed to keep her voice steady. Her eyes darted from one companion to another before she tried to settle them ahead of her and ignore the tingle that ran up her spine with the knowledge that someone tailed them. Katsim: Si…so…Iljor you mentioned a bar? She motioned ahead where a couple of different establishments offered to quench the thirst of any weary traveller. She had no doubt more lay beyond, sprinkled throughout the hub. It was not the sort of place she wanted to go, but maybe it was the sort of place where they could get some information. Arlill/Etan/Tyber: responses. -- Lt. Katsim Peri Chief Science Officer USS 'Oumuamua M239008AD0
  24. @Vitor S. Silveira is perhaps better known for a bit of humour, but he can write truly heart-breaking stories as well. This was an amazingly and painfully realistic sim; technology and species might be new, but the story, the story never ceases to be relevant. Absolutely great work! Original: Weights on the soul.
  25. Since we’ve been on shore leave, @Vylaa has graced us with many sims where we get a glimpse of the Andorian life and their extended/complicated family life. Like the three-parter where Vylaa met her partners. This one is just another amazing sim with more of that and the usual humorous tone that Andrew always adds in his sims. ((Vylaa’s Rented House, Lortos City, Bajor)) The big house was quiet for once. Vylaa walked down the staircase and paused at the bottom, thinking. Her mates were out; it was still hours before they had planned to meet at a local lake for a family picnic. Vylaa and her sisters were taking the children early for a fun day. And her children were what had given the zhen pause. If the house was quiet, they must be up to something. She checked the large family room, and the kitchen just beyond. But no, she found no tiny blue people. She even looked inside the lower cabinets in the kitchen, and under the couches. She moved on to the houses small library, where her sisters were engrossed in some of the musty old books that lined the shelves. Sataa: ::Looking up.:: Are you ready to go? zh’Tisav: Yeah… Once I find the children. Where are they? They were down here playing. Thyssa: Oh, uh, they said something about the back garden. zh’Tisav: And you just let them go back there? You were supposed to be watching them. They could be doing anything! Sataa shared an awkward look with Thyssa. Sataa: Well… They kind of…. Snuck off. Vylaa grumbled a few words she wouldn’t want her children to hear as she turned and stormed out the back door. The back garden was, well, impressive, and it offered many hiding places for three small Andorians. The huge walled in space was packed with flora from all over Bajor, to the point where one could argue that they weren’t inside a large bustling city. The foliage of the trees even dampened the sounds from beyond the walls, allowing Vylaa to take a moment to listen, her antennae drifting in gentle arcs searching for the mildest chatter, the quietest giggle to tell her were to look. zh’Tisav: Hmmm… The giggling really wasn’t all that quiet. The trio of siblings had yet to learn how to hide effectively, they were simply terrible at the Terran game hide and seek. She turned her head to the right, the densest side of the garden. zh’Tisav: I hear you… Giggles erupted from a clump of ferns. zh’Tisav: Thought so. She made her way down a pebble-lined path, pretending she was looking for them. She even made a show of peeking behind flowerbeds and shrubs, all the while heading directly to the ferns. The zhen stopped beside the big green clump and looked about the garden one last time, all while the fronds of amazing Bajoran Giggling Fern waved gently in the breeze She reached out and pushed the fronds aside. zh’Tisav: Ah… ha? There, in a small open space between the ferns, were her children. Athyn and Sivaa were sitting opposite each other, their hands and clothes covered with a muddied mixture of fingerpaints. Between them stood their little brother, wearing nothing but about 8 hues of paint and a smile. zh’Tisav: Why did you paint your thi?! Sivaa: Um, amdanalnar? zh’Tisav: Try again. The paint’s supposed to be white. Athyn: ::To Siyaa.:: I told you! zh’Tisav: Again, why? Athyn: Becuse he likes it. zh’Tisav: He’s a toddler, he’d laugh if you rubbed dirt in his face. Don’t! She had seen the glint in her daughters’ eyes as tiny blue hands began edging toward the dirt, so much were they like she and her sisters when they’d been that age. Vylaa groaned with frustration. Any other time, she would not have cared. In fact, she probably would have encouraged it. But now the spanner was firmly lodged in the days plans, and made worse when Thyl ran forward and wrapped his arms firmly around her legs in the biggest hug he could give, leaving a child-sized smear of paint all over her clothes. zh’Tisav: ::sighs:: You knew we were going to the lake… You could have done it there, I would have let you go swimming to clean off! Now you’re trading the time you would have had there for the fun you had here. Thyl needs a bath, and all of us need clean clothes. She stepped back and held the ferns aside while pointing to the door. As they filed by, their feet leaving tiny paint prints on the ground, Athyn looked up to her zhavey and asked with a straight face… Athyn: Can we take our paints to the lake? zh’Tisav: Not now you can’t. Go tell your aunts they have to help you get cleaned up. They let you run wild, so they get to help with the clean up while I give Thyl a bath. They entered the cool darkness of the house, eyes blinking to adjust. There they found Vylaa’s sisters, whose own eyes were wide with shock as they drank in the carnage. The twins marched u to their aunts and stopped, arms held out with palms up, and gazed into their eyes. Athyn: Zhavey said… Sivaa: ...clean us up. Sataa and Thysaa each shrugged a shoulder, opposite shoulders, and took a paint smeared hand and lead the girls upstairs. Vylaa, meanwhile, herded Thyl to the bathroom, doing her best to keep him from touching any walls. He jumped straight into the tub as Vylaa peeled off her paint soaked garments before kneeling beside the tub. She turned the water to a comfortable temperature as she upended a bottle of baby soap over Thyl. zh’Tisav: Seriously, and we’re having another? Lt JG Vylaa zh'Tisav Engineering Officer USS Gorkon
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