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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)

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)

((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

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 -

Thanks, I hate her Honestly though, I love how uncomfortable this character is making me feel. Well done @Rustyy_Hael❤️

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)

================== 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

((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

((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

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!

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 ==============

((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

((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

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

@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!

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

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)

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

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)

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

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.

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.)

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

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

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