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Never before has there been such an accurate read of Lhandon in a sim. Often the best way to see what is coming across in your sims is to see what other people write in their sims. @Avander Promontory's sims are like a mirror and they are shining examples of how exactly to sim, and how to take what your writing partners are trying to get across and elevate that. , while adding to the wider narrative and not forgetting your own character at the same time.

In a months long slow burn, @Toxin Arlill's main character has been playing host to another consciousness of unknown intentions. As this entity has taken more and more influence over our Toxin's thoughts and behaviors (And remained unknown to the other characters) the audience has grown increasingly anxious. In this sim (during a time-traveling mission) the entity (HENRI) makes a fateful decision and asks big questions:

I'm a sucker for a good "you're not meant to die yet" scene, and I'm even more of a sucker for weaving in aspects of your backstory and building them throughout the mission. In this one, we learn about Steven. We wonder, who is Steven? Clearly, he means a lot to her. @Kimonzi Lahl

This is the most insightful and detailed Personal Log I've read. Lynn did a great job summarizing our crew's mental states after Frontier Day and reflecting on how the ship interactions have impacted her character. She also took on an interesting issue of the trials of being a "human passable" alien race. I loved reading it. The touching last line gave me chills. ((OOC: All thoughts and feelings belong to the character about other characters and are not a reflection of the writer’s personal feelings regarding other writers.)) ((Sevantha Saa’s Quarters, Deck 10, USS Astraeus)) ((Six Months Post-Frontier Day)) //Medical Officer’s Personal Log, Lieutenant Junior Grade Dr. Sevantha Saa of the USS Astraeus. Six months have passed since the events of Frontier Day. With all the pain and devastation caused by the Changelings and the Borg, it appears Starfleet has done as I told the Changeling it would. Survive and eventually thrive once again. Very few things in the universe are as unifying as destruction. The crew of the USS Astraeus have been making great efforts toward healing, physically and mentally, many have been visiting the Counselors regularly and very few have had to be tracked down for mandatory scans at Starfleet’s requests. Many have spent time expanding their knowledge, using the time so close to earth to take extra courses at the academy, achieve new certifications, and overall showing dedication to bettering themselves. I’ve taken a number of courses and independent classes to improve my performance as an officer on the ship since achieving the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade. Counseling - Completed the class portion of the counseling training program included a dissertation defense with Dr. Alix Harford. Still there are observation hours under a certified Counselor to be done, Internship Hours which would happen on board the Astraeus which still will take a year and some pre-practicum hours which will hopefully be fulfilled in some group therapy or meetings events in the future. Bridge Officer Course - My first experience on the bridge was the little time at the beginning of Frontier Day, as one gains rank, there is more and more chance I will be in the rotation when the need for a Medical Officer arrives. My instincts as a doctor are one thing but in the heat of the moment sitting at a console is very different then working on a patient, the instincts have to be different and they need more development. Standard Federation Sign Language - One of my trauma responses is the loss of my speaking voice, selective mutism, and I have come to find that many people are not comfortable with telepathic speaking being my first language. My attempt to bridge this is trying to learn sign language to communicate as opposed to defaulting to what is comfortable to me. Admittedly, as a Betazoid on a ship with a large human population, I have struggled to not feel like an outsider in regards to social normalities. Part of this I believe stems from the fact that to most of my fellow officers, I am very passable for a regular human, and that alone comes with the expectation to have Earth based behaviors. Many forget the genetic markers of black eyes being a seeming link to many telepathic species until I do something normal for myself, or accidentally respond to what they’re thinking when on my worst days I cannot tell the difference between spoken word and over heard thought. Many members of the crew have become accepting, few even enjoying the exchange of thoughts, while others I have found means to mask for their own comfort. Sometimes I do feel like there is a need to be more human to fit the expectations they have of me when they see me, but I do not know if that is due to a discomfort I have being a source of unease for them or if they truly expect other species that appear human to behave in more human ways.. Many humanoids can say one thing to you but be thinking entirely differently, this includes their feelings about you, with the expectation you do not actually know. But… I do know and while as a Starfleet Officer I can professionally pretend until it's detrimental to my occupation, on the personal level this type of dishonesty is a struggle to adapt to. At what point is it acceptable to call out the behavior? Free thought I understand but to catch someone in a lie to you and not be able to say it feels so strange. On a personal matter, I suppose it is understandable until it's Medical, then at what point am I denying my patient the best care by ignoring it? On professional matters is it when the subject becomes a threat to fellow officers or to Starfleet protocol? I do not mean to sound like life is truly difficult, the crew, despite my own struggles, have been a fascinating group of people thrust together. The crew has changed since Frontier Day and the launch of the Chin’toka, we have lost crew and gained some, not all I have had the chance to meet. I hope to rectify that in the future. Commodore Captain Mei’konda - I have a lot of respect for the Captain. After Frontier Day, we had a good conversation regarding the fallout with the Changelings and the behavior of certain officers towards the previously assimilated. Seeing his temper flare at the injustice was in the moment a little unnerving but at a distance, inspiring, I appreciate he cares so much about his crew. I have no doubt it was on his orders the plaque in the Pagrati Lounge has been updated so quickly with the names of the lost during Frontier Day right next to the Battle of Ricker Prime losses. His compassion impresses me as I have seen all too easily how war can change someone, to maintain it, is admirable… I believe he might be due for his annual soon. First Officer Lt. Commander Lael Rosek-Skyfire - Our new First Officer who came on just before the events of Frontier Day. She has an impressive resume from engineering, instructor and admittedly a medical record that paints her as a survivor. She is one of the other telepaths on the ship I find myself capable of relating with but our positions are very different. Currently her condition has me questioning whether or not bioborg technology still within us has caused alterations to our gifts sensitivities. Al-Leyan telepathy is a largely unstudied field by the University of Medara so most of my experience will have to be learning on the job. Second Officer Lt. Commander Esa Kiax - As a doctor, it is more often than not that I meet people at their worst instead of their best. Still even at her worst she has been delightful company, whether she thinks so or not. As still an active patient of mine, I admittedly find myself always checking on her, wondering if she slept well or if the nightmares have returned or if she’s punishing herself with her hand or not. Dr. Harford has taken up her care in regards to physical rehabilitation and I trust her skills. I do not think she is unfit for duty but what she has gone through is enough to spark my worrying instincts it seems. Lt. Commander Timothy Alentonis - Our newest science officer who has come aboard just before Frontier Day who has previously served as Professor at Starfleet Academy. Like myself, he seems to struggle with finding his place on the crew, but social awkwardness might be a universal part of the Astraeus crew joint struggles. Still I look forward to seeing his contributions in the future to the ship as he settles in and hopefully finds his place. A lesson that anyone of any rank can suffer from such struggles. I will need to do a follow-up with him soon. Lt. 101 and 000 - The Bynars are a pair I do not know very well but during the events of Frontier Day, witnessed a strangeness in that one was affected by the borg, and the other was not, helping link the change to brain development. I still need to follow-up with the two of them post Frontier Day but rediscovering their sense of self was the most important as it was for many who were assimilated. Before then… only one got sick also, they are a bit of an anomaly of textbook Bynar which is marvelous. We can never know everything. Lt. Wyatt Ral - If there was anything good to come out of Frontier Day for me, it was getting to connect with Wyatt. He’s from Betazed as well and while his family is far from traditional, he helps me feel a little less like a fish out of water by reminding me of the comforts of home. His grandmother even sent baked goods from Betazed that she made herself. Our last meeting, the memory of part of Betazed being destroyed, the feeling and thoughts of all that life there and then gone haunted him, and I felt someone understand what had happened at Ohmallera… Lt. Christopher Caldwell - A talented individual blessed with good looks and adaptability, but infuriatingly confusing display of certain Earth born personality expectations. He treats vulnerability like a curse and attempts to address it as almost an offense, I do not understand it. There are few who I have met who mentally contradict themselves. He should honestly be seeing a Counselor but we will see how he recovers over shoreleave first. We are on friendly terms so long as he doesn’t use that terrible song as a mental shield again… though I know the truth is I unnerve him with what I am. Lt. Charles Matthews - The Chief of Security and I have become quite good friends since Frontier Days. Whether it is sparring or simply enjoying a drink, Matthews is good company even if he doesn’t think so. There are very few people who understand how devastating it can be to lose a sibling to senseless tragedy one can relate to. He is too harsh on himself sometimes, but I would be hypocritical to call him out on it, as I was also raised working with the scrutiny of one parent their entire life. What is the Earth phrase… birds of a feather? Lt. JG. Gwen’ora Tasen - We’ve come a long way since Starbase 118 graduation. It is odd not sharing a room with her, but we’re across the hall by design, so there is rarely a time we cannot burst into one another’s room. I am worried about her following Frontier Day however… The Ba’ku people live a simple life by design, rejecting technology due to their space faring history, but few have had to experience the pain the galaxy can inflict in the modern era… I hope she gets to see the beauty of the stars eventually. Lt. JG. Divya Tam - Forged in fire is the term I would use for our friendship. Divya was with me in sickbay at the tail end of Frontier Day, and since then we’ve done quite a bit together on shore leave such as relaxing at hot springs, exploring earth, exploring the earth relic that is a vandura, and I’ve been the Medical Officer assisting in some of her security projects. We’re both Children of War, a title Divya uses to describe us as children to soldier parents of the Dominion War. It’s comforting to have someone I can talk to about some of those heavier subjects and understand why I… sometimes I treat certain things like facts of life other than horror. I really should ask her to spar with me next. Lt. JG. Dr. Kris Fianna - Initially we had a rough start following Frontier Day, but since her return from the inpatient stay, and she’s gotten back into work we have been on much better terms. I respect Dr. Fianna immensely for the willingness to go to a facility, having been in one myself, there is an unjust stigma some cultures have about receiving help. Not to mention her drive and dedication to her patients above her own health make her an incredible doctor. Ensign Dr. Alix Harford - Initially a relief doctor from Denali Station, Dr. Harford has become a permanent member of our crew. In a short time the two of us have gone through quite a bit together, with Ensign McGillian’s telepathic awakening and the hours upon hours put into our dissertation on the “Reevaluation of Telepathic Therapy Criteria and Procedure Review.” Initially I was aware I have made her uncomfortable due my psionic abilities and her own trauma, but I believe we have both made strides being mindful. I believe we are all very fortunate for Dr. Harford’s transfer and she has done well integrating into the crew. Lieutenant JG Dr. Sylvie Doucet and Commander Serala were both part of the Chin’toka reacquisition and appear to be making the ship a permanent part of the Fleet and will be joining the Astraeus in the Expanse. Unfortunately, Lieutenant JG Slav Shewytch has also transferred off the ship for now to recover from the events of Frontier Day. I noticed a number of new cadets and recently a new Lieutenant JG named Diego Beyett who I have not yet met but saw his medical check in with Dr. Harford. I do feel a small sense of guilt following Frontier Day that I am working through in meditation. Compared to most members of the crew, I came out mentally in a much better place, which feels rather insulting to all of their struggles. Part of it is due to my experience with Ohmallera and the six months I spent at the University of Medara’s psychiatric care unit, learning how to process loss and improving my brain’s trauma processing. Frontier Day tested my ability to deal with hearing the pain and thoughts of everyone around me and keep going. Part of me feels like a monster still being able to function, hearing the Borg Queen’s voice in their minds, all of them trapped… but I couldn’t free them. All I could do was get Sickbay back up and running so we could begin taking patients. And a part of me… feels strangely fulfilled. When I joined Starfleet, I was following my brother’s dream. I told myself one difference I did want to make was to assure nothing like what happened to Ohmallera happened anywhere else. Earth wasn’t touched at the end of the day. There were casualties, terrible numbers lost in Starfleet, but part of me cannot help but feel relief in that we prevented ships from firing down onto those cities below. The Astraeus, in its first mission, does what I had set my life goal to… Fate is a funny thing, isn’t it? As we prepare for our departure to the Par’tha Expanse I have turned much of my free time into getting familiar with the Caraadians biology as well as familiarizing myself with some of their social etiquettes and expectations. Much like Betazed there appears to be a Noble House system, though it feels far more expansive and without the religious connections at the root of them. Houses of any sort always means the capacity for the crew to become entangled in the drama of the nobility, an area my upbringing has me very familiar with as a generational vassal of the Seventh House. After a talk with Matthews, I will also need to learn what I can about the Valcarian’s should we come into contact with them, both medically and socially. …There is much to be done before we officially take off but there is a shift in the atmosphere around the ship, everyone knows it’s time, and while I am thankful that many of my crewmates got to experience the comforts of home as they recovered. I have been ready to see the stars. I hope you can see them too, Velaan. // -- Lieutenant JG Sevantha Saa Medical Officer USS Astraeus A240105SS2

Reading this sim just made me smile. I'm only just getting to know Dekas but I find him so charming and personable! I can't wait to see where this goes @Dekas!

@Alexander Williams is back and I'm glad I got the possibility to read his works, and if the cowriter is @Alora DeVeau the result cannot be anything less than great.

OOC: Richards' quips are just too funny. IC: (( Main Shuttle Bay, Deck 9, USS Octavia E Butler )) Anton stood back and placed his hands on his hips, seemingly admiring the outside of the shuttlecraft. It wasn’t the shuttle that gave Anton his sense of pride, it was the large stash of explosives and explosive devices that Lahl and himself had spent the better part of an hour organizing and properly storing. Anton had checked and double checked each one of their “supplies”. Promontory: Ready to do some damage? Nilsen: I mean, this is going to be one heck of a boom. Josh would be sad he missed it. Lahl: I’ll record it for him and we’ll replay it in the holodeck. Anton admired the idea. He would have to be sure to check in with that. Richards: That sounds cool. Promontory: All set? Nilsen: Aye sir. All ready. Anton nodded. Lahl: Ready as I’ll ever be to be part of a heist. 0O Timorzin’s surreptitious activities were a lot safer. O0 Promontory: Let’s get onboard and set off! Anton anxiously cut in front of the rest of the crew Richards: I’m driving! ((Cockpit, Shuttlecraft Talents)) Anton was not “driving” and he sat staring forward thinking about just how unfair that fact was. Nilsen: Anton, can ya get me priority one flight clearance from fight ops. Richards: No. Anton cleared them anyway of course. Flights ops: =/\= Talents, flight ops, confirmed clearance. Flight path clear, good hunting =/\= Nilsen: Lahl, when you’re ready, light her up for me, and I’ll do the rest. Anton could have done the rest. He could have done it really well, and he probably wasn’t even going to hit the wall of the shuttlebay like on the previous occasions. Lahl: Aye sir. ::fingers flying across the console, the engines lit up like a human Christmas tree:: Anton’s spirits raised with each little light. He wasn’t going to stay upset on what might be the only time traveling explosion based mission in his career. No. This mission was too important for that. Promontory: Response Nilsen: So these pretty things can dodge most long-range scanners, but I also don’t know what advancements they’ve made in 800 years, so, I’m going to fly us fast-ish and low. How close do you want me to get to the compound? Lahl: Well, we need to be close enough that we’re not hoofing it over miles, but far enough away that security doesn’t find us immediately. Also, how fast is “fast-ish”? Promontory: Response Richards: Just keep it steady Nilsen. We can’t be… exploding. Anton delivered this pouty statement through a full smile and he wasn’t going to be able to keep pouting for long, no matter how hard he tried. Nilsen: Oh you bet I’m flying this girl carefully. I’m all for a barrel roll but today…call me grandma Nilsen…then again, my grandma was a daredevil, so maybe not. Course laid in sir. Lahl: Thank you sir. Richards: You got it, Grandma! It seemed as though the last bit of pout had left Anton, and to be honest. Grandma Nilsen was a much better pilot than himself anyways. Promontory: Response Nilsen:: Good to see that in 800 years, the consent gravitational pull of a planet’s poles hasn’t changed. We should be hidden now. Lahl: Why do I feel the only thing doing more heavy lifting than that “should” is Lieutenant Caras…sir? Richards: Annnd Richards. Promontory: Response Lahl: Lieutenant Nilsen, have you thought about not hitting every bit of atmospheric disturbance? Anton nodded in obvious agreement although the pouting could barely be noticed through the large smile of anticipation. Promontory/Nilsen: Response Richards: You’ve gotta be kidding me. Lahl: No, no, I have no interest in flying myself. I’ll leave that to you. Richards: Yeah. I guess you are doing okay… grandma. This was the last one, Anton promised himself. Promontory: Response (( Walking Distance to Base, Sbadni Moon)) Nilsen brought them down onto the moon a short distance away from the base. Not needing to wear an EV and constantly worry about oxygen levels were a bonus on an already great sounding mission. Lahl: ::looking around at where they landed:: Lieutenant Nilsen…did you intend for us to be at the base of a mountain? ::looking up at the slope between them and their destination:: Anton with hand on chin observed the mountain. Richards: You mean it’s… Anton pointed directly forward at the slope. Promontory/Nilsen: Response Lahl: No, it’s fine…::whispering to herself:: More climbing training in the holodeck… Anton decided it would be best to ignore Lahl’s sentiment towards Nilsen as he may have contributed to it in some way and Anton was no longer feeling “pouty” He thought about making the climb up the slope with all their explosives and he was beginning to regret adding those few “extras” onto the list as they were just going to make the trip more difficult now. Richards: You guys think there is a way around? Lahl/Promontory/Nilsen: Response Richards: Well… At least there's no suits. Lahl/Promontory/Nilsen: Response Anton smiled. Richards: Maybe it’d be easier to transport the supplies. We could wander ahead and find a good location and then just beam the supplies there. Lahl/Promontory/Nilsen: Response Richards: Either way, best that we don’t get spotted just carrying this stuff around. How long before the other teams are in place? Lahl/Promontory/Nilsen: Response Tags/TBC =================== Lieutenant Anton Richards Security Officer USS Octavia E. Butler - NCC-82850 T239802AR1 =================== -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "USS Octavia E. Butler – StarBase 118 Star Trek PBEM RPG" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to sb118-butler+unsubscribe@googlegroups.com. To view this discussion on the web visit https://groups.google.com/d/msgid/sb118-butler/0d8c5409-3d45-47f5-ad97-980cfa9e200cn%40googlegroups.com.

Amazing SIM by @Morro Caras

@Gila Sadar has given this fleet one of the best "one episode" species. Building up her character with so much attention and detail. Keeping all of her traits here we get a glimpse at how much Lieutenant Doctor @Gila Sadar has grown. And that she doesn't need to pull her teeth out to "give a bite"

I am surprised nobody had already posted this sim here. I have mentioned how @Gnai gave us a grand mission opening with his First MSNPC. Now gave a look at the Second MSNPC that @Gnai writes and at this scene, and tell me it isn't one of the best sims you have ever read. If you do, well, its your choice and opinion, because to me, this is AWESOME.

@Karrod Niac you did it - you crazy son of a b, you did it

@Karrod Niac writing for Vailani's mother is truly horrifying and funny. There are too many questionable parents on the Ronin character background roster 😂. I'm fascinated and appalled by how ridiculous it is.

((Sickbay, Deck 6, USS Khitomer)) Some engineers were scatterbrained, always picking up a project, carrying it for a while, and then setting it aside for another day, only to immediately repeat the cycle with another long-dormant matter. Such was the life of a perpetual tinkerer, and Lt. Commander Nolen Hobart knew it well. But his concern now was on the other kind of Engineer. The Dewitts and Lacy’s of the world. Give them a task, and they'll do it, straight away and without a fuss. Starfleet was full of engineers like that, which is why the Khitomer’s repairs were coming along swimmingly. Too swimmingly. Nolen was on the hunt for something to break. Besides hearts. He was elbow deep in a wall panel in a back corner of the medical compartment when he heard a familiar throat clear itself. For several moments, Talia Ohnari didn't quiet understand the scene in front if her. It wasn't the first time she had walked in on Nolen Hobart elbows deep in some engineering project in Sickbay, But this? This looked very much like he was breaking it. Her feelings for the engineer turned First Officer were…complicated at best. Her heart had been crushed. And yet? He hadn't been cruel….persay. He just….wasn't interested in pursuing a personal relationship with her. And, while that stung, he didn’t owe her anything. And he wasn’t a vindictive man… which meant he was doing what he was for a reason. Stashing her spiky-uncomfy feelings in the proverbial back of the emotional closet, she straightened and cleared her throat politely. Ohnari: Um…Commander Hobart? Is..uh…there a reason you're um…trashing my Sickbay…? The professionalism hurt in a way that was hard to describe. Things had once been incredibly informal and intimate between the two of them, and he'd fouled that up pretty solidly. He owed her an apology. He owed her a lot of things. But he couldn't afford to make good on them, just yet. Hobart: I'm sabotaging the ship. Alright. Neither of them were Vulcan, but even she couldn't sus out why in the world he would do such a thing. Ohnari: Not to put too fine a point on it and all…but I feel the Alliance attacks did a very thorough job…and considering I still need a functioning Sickbay….I am going to have to insist you stop….Sir. He turned to look back into the guts of the wall. Hobart: Nothing vital, just need to… how badly do you need atmospheric bioscanners? Talia took a deep breath through her nose in attempt to stay calm. It was as if he didn't even listen to her. A pattern, it seemed. Ohnari: ::crossing her arms:: Why. Tell me the real reason you are doing this, and then I shall answer. Hers was a perfectly reasonable question, and all at once the explanation in his head got jumbled. He didn't look back at her because he was pretty sure her face would just jumble it all up even more. Hobart: Ayemet is missing, so I need to break the ship. Ayemet is missing. The simple statement rattled around in her brain, trying to find purchase. The bottom of her stomach bottomed out and she had to clutch the door frame. Ayemet is missing. She had just spent her down time working on the sketches for her bridal attire. The woman asked her to be maid of honor…and to help her plan. She was going to track her down after the medical needs died down to start taking measurements. Ohnari: Missing…how? She must have misheard. Ayemet was missing….her Barjon earring and thought she lost it in Sickbay. Behind a panel. And Nolen volunteered. Hobart: “Missing.” Whereabouts unknown. No longer accounted for. She was with me on the station but we got separated, and she hasn't turned up, dead or alive. Just gone. He pulled on something in the wall and heard a satisfying Ka-THUNK, followed by a descending whir. It wasn't a simple missing Holy trinket. Slowly; she lowered herself to the floor and held out a large, destructive looking tool towards Nolen. oO Oh Gods. Connor. He must be out of his mind with worry. Oo Ohnari: Use this. Break what you have to in this room. Then my office, destroy the whole thing if you have to. ::wincing slightly:: just, spare Armand's display shelf and Statler Jr.’s corner. Hobart: ::looking around:: What is the minimum number of biobeds you need to keep functioning? He gestured for her to follow him, as he approached the first of the set. He began to pry open panels at its base, confident that Talia would stop him before he took too many of commission. The awkward, uncomfortable tension, that had previously been filled with heat and promise, floated between the two like some inflated emotional mascot, daring the other to say something and banish it. Suddenly, none of what transpired between the two seemed to really be all that important right now. Her heart felt heavy and sore. This war had taken a lot from everyone. A few gave everything. And now, someone she cared for deeply was being forced to give another piece of himself. And; her friend; whom she had become closer to in these last peaceful moments before the battle….where could she be? Was she alright? Had something….unspeakable happened? Reaching out, she squeezed Nolen's shoulder in comfort. For whom she wasn't entirely sure. As he gripped an important-looking hose that could away into the darkness of the medical bed’s mechanical and electronic guts, he felt a rush of blue enter his mind. Ohnari: Please inform me if there is anything I can do to assist. ::shoulder squeeze momentarily tightening, and she mumbled mostly to herself:: We have to find her…. Hobart: ::muttered, working:: We have to do nothing of the sort… All Talia could think of was Connor's drunken expression of pride as he beamed while Talia and Ras had devoured his pasta, declaring it the best thing they had ever tasted. They may have said the same thing about the leftover pasta water the next moment so….highly inebriated taste buds weren't picky. It was then Talia realized her travels through drunken memory fog had taken her out of the moment, of which she was still holding Nolen's shoulder. She released him quickly, as if he had become a Tholian. Standing; she gave an awkward head nod. Ohnari: Excuse me Commander, I will leave you to your task. The blue vanished from his thoughts as soon as her hand left him. As she stood, so did he, instinctively. Maybe it was the thought of a missing friend. Maybe it was the thought of keeping his best friend’s mind on literally anything else. Maybe it was his own conflicted feelings. Whatever the cause, he didn't want her to go. Hobart: Wait wait, don't go! It was taking a lot to keep herself and her emotions placid. She reminded herself this was about Connor, not her. So she stood. Admittedly a little awkward. Ohnari: Did you need something else, Commander? He looked around, as if he might find an explanation in the room. But the swirl of reasons was no more clear to him. Maybe it was none of those reasons, or maybe it was all of them. He couldn't say. Hobart: I just… it's— this compartment is magic to me. Wizardry. I can tell you how the machines work, but I don't know what they do. I need your help, or else I'm gonna lose Connor, too. In addition to Ayemet, is what he meant. Right. Ayemet. Definitely Lieutenant Jacin that he “lost,” and not anyone else. Certainly not anyone within arm's reach. He was acting strange. Although truth be told she wasn't a beacon of normalcy herself at the moment…his comment left her more confused. Ohnari: ::brows scrunched in confusion:: You're not going to lose Connor… Hobart: I know him, Talia. He's playing the good soldier right now, but it's gonna eat at him. And sooner or later he's going to take off and look for her and get himself killed. I need my friend. I need my chief engineer. And I need your help, whether I deserve it or not. Talia let out the breath she had been holding; and nodded in agreement. He wasn't wrong. Nolen had known Connor for a lot longer. But she could sense the sincerity and worry in Nolen's tone. She decided to just gloss over the last comment about deserving help. Ohnari: ::nodding slowly:: Alright. Tell me what to do. A little weird to ask him to tell her what to do in her Sickbay, but that was just the way it would be. Subordinate to supervisor. Did he have to look so damn relieved about it though? He smiled, softly. It was more than he had any right to ask of her, and he knew she wouldn't deny it to him. His ask felt manipulative in a way that disquieted Nolen, mostly because it harkened back to his pre-Starfleet habits. But, he hoped, he made up for it now with his sincerity. He turned and crouched by the base of the biobed again. He started unplugging wires, with the intent of plugging them back in again, wrong. And as he got back to a shape of work he'd long missed since his promotion, his mind focused on what was in front of him, such that he was paying less attention to his own mouth. Hobart: I'm frankly astonished he's still here. I mean, honestly if it was you I would— ::forced cough, throat clearing:: The medical display, what's it reading now? A loud buzz went off in Talia’s brain. Ohnari: What did you just say…? “If it was you…” he said if it was you. Why? Carefully, she peeled back the layers of her own shielding and felt….a lot. A whole lot. It began swirling with her own conflicting, and deeply confused feelings. Nolen suppressed a wince. It wasn't the first time he'd been accidentally more honest than he intended to, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. And, Commander Morgan's above notwithstanding, there was only so much he was ready to say. As he doubled down and reached deeper inside the bio-bed, he realized that he was going to have to choose between keeping Dewitt's hands full and removing his foot from his mouth. So, obviously, there was only one path to take. He took a deep breath. He withdrew his hands from the machinery. He stood, and turned to face her. He looked her straight in the eyes. And then he played dumb. Hobart: …I said something? Maybe a little too dumb. She was completely over this. She was getting whiplash between what he said, and frankly, what he felt. Towards her. By now, she was onto the avoidance game that was one Nolen Hobart. Both hands, with the speed of a viper, landed on his shoulders, preventing escape. Ohnari: ::her eyes cautious:: Why are you feeling that way at me?! Trapped, Nolen considered the question. “At her?” His feelings for her had often overwhelmed him, and inconvenienced him, but he never imagined they'd ever attacked her. His eyes darted as he considered the implications. Was he an imposition on her, despite his efforts to keep his distance? Hobart: Look, forget I said anything. I'll go back to breaking your workspace, if you let me know what the readout— Ohnari: Forget the damn display readings and answer me. ::her hands gripped his shoulders, and her eyes narrowed their stormy gaze:: Please, Nolen. Answer the question. Under the weight of her hands, his shoulders slumped. He sighed. Might as well get it over with. His lips puffed up in one final futile display of defiance against speaking the truth. He swallowed, and braced himself for the reaction she would feel to his words, which he would feel through his senses. Hobart: Alright, look. I never stopped, okay? From the moment I met you, through to today, I never stopped. I don't think I ever will. Completely frozen. That's what happened. The loud buzzing in her brain nearly split her in two. Now; her heart was fully present; however her brain still had several questions. Ohnari: ::sputtering:: Y-you…but t-that day in, in your office…You said… She trailed off. What had he actually said? In crashing, clarifying detail that conversation slammed back into her so hard that her chest curled slightly at the mental impact. By contrast, he had no idea exactly what he had said, and he didn’t bother to try and recall. His eyebrows furrowed, because he remembered precisely what he felt back then, even if the words had been lost to time, and that was good enough. Hobart: I said I couldn’t be with you, not that I didn’t want to be. I can’t… turn it off! That’s not how it works, the most I can do is just not act on it. Her nails inadvertently curled into his shoulders, like a bird of prey finally getting her catch. However…unlike a bird of prey….she released him with a near shove. His palms comparing as he pressed them against the end of the biobed. Ohnari: So…what? You were just going to….never do anything about it?? An almost kiss and then…::she pointed her finger and his chest with a solid jab:: I've been playing this over and over and ::near growl:: over how I got this so wrong…and the whole time you've been… He wanted to be angry with her. Her feelings, bitter betrayal and cold grief, were as plain to him as the anger on her face. She was an empath, but not as sensitive as him. In that moment, he realized she probably hadn't read him there in his ready room, and he felt his heart drop into his gut. As her tone increased in intensity, his fell. Hobart: Stuck on you? Yeah. Ohnari: ::near shouting:: What was your plan Commander, ::the word dripped venom:: have us just…dance around each other feeling all awkward and miserable until what? You get your own ship and can finally be free of me? ::then the shoving came. She would certainly regret this later.:: Or one of us goes missing or dies?! Another time, Hobart would have shot back with venom, caught up in the intense emotions Dr. Ohnari poured into the room, let alone the repeated shoving against the biobed. It felt thick with righteousness and he thought back to his coffee with Adriana. He owed her an explanation. More than that, he owed her a conversation. And so, he waited a moment before responding. It felt the Commanderly thing to do. Hobart: It's not a plan. I don't plan. ::beat:: But yes. ::sigh:: I'd be a command officer, and you'd be… ::grasping:: The one that got away. I thought, you know, you'd find an accountant somewhere, settle down, adopt fifty-four-and-half war orphans… It was as if he had struck her. She just stared for a moment. All the anger and fury just…sank into a swirl of sadness. And not just for her. Ohnari: ::quietly:: How little you think of me… He meant it as a positive ending for her. But he couldn't have hurt her more. That wasn't her path. That was her parents' path. Hers was yet to be written. And she had hoped, he would be a major character in her story. But now? It was that moment she realized how little they actually knew about each other. Hobart: I know. I hurt you and I'm sorry. Ohnari: ::wiping a traitorous tear angrily away:: Don't try and spare my feelings now… His voice was but a whisper at this point. Hobart: Talia, you know how many people died on Khitomer, and I've seen the reports. And that's how it's going to be for the foreseeable future. We're at war, and I don't know that I can be… whatever we are, and your superior officer. If it's either saving the ship or losing you, how can I make that choice? It's hard enough when we’re friends. She took a step back from him. And here was the crux of their problem. And if she was entirely honest; despite the heartbreak; she could see where he was afraid. Ohnari: ::flatly:: I am fully aware of how many people died. Hobart: We should have had this conversation back then, and I'm sorry we didn't. It’s not a unilateral kind of decision, and I tried to make it one. Ohnari: ::crossing her arms; she hugged herself protectively.:: Did you know I don't sleep? Not really. When I close my eyes I see OR rooms and morgues. That's it. If he closed his eyes, the Khitomer XO could have seen any number of nightmares. He no longer needed to borrow his mother’s haunted memories, he had fresh scars all his own. He didn't need to close his eyes to see the charred and partially melted corpse of Private Jones, throat torn open by the horrifically effective weapons borne by a Lattice Alliance boarding party. By ordering him on point, Nolen had effectively ordered him to his death. But he slept fine. He was used to nightmares. Hobart: You don't sleep? His voice carried concern, of a superior, of a friend, and of anything else they were to each other. His mind churned, and his heart pulled, processing it. A sleep deprived Chief Medical Officer was a problem for ship readiness, such was his cognitive concern. And Talia was suffering, a fact his heart could not stand. If he could have found a way to silence his own dreams, he would have shared it with her, even if it meant suffering his all the more. Talia began to pace slowly; rubbing her arms in a soothing manner. This was not what she had expected to say. She had planned to call him a coward and storm off. Except that's not what happened. So; she was just rolling with it. Ohnari: I don't. Not unless I'm blackout drunk or taking a sleep aid. But I stopped the sleep aid when I couldn't wake up from the dreams. ::her voice cracked:: I could have come to you. You could have held me, and made me feel safe so I knew I could sleep. ::casually wiping her eyes with her sleeve:: but I told myself you weren't interested in me. So, I had to let you and my feelings go. I have been trying. ::a soft, humorless laugh:: and yet…this whole time… Her voice trailed off. For a moment, she just looked at him. Really looked. Her own feelings had clouded a lot. And he was terrified. Terrified and she had been yelling and shoving. Still, she wasn't ready to let it go. Not yet. Ohnari: You have made all the choices for us. So I'll leave you with this final one. You go ask Connor, ask him if he regrets loving Ayemet. Now that she's missing. Ask him if he wishes she was nothing more than an unrequited option he chose not to take. At the mention of his best friend, he looked away, if only briefly. He could not ask Connor. He could not drive a knife into that open wound. But he could ask someone else, perhaps the only other person on the ship who could understand, and who had made the same choice. Cowardice, perhaps, or pride had kept him from raising the issue before. It would not stop him now. He was determined, and his dark eyes reflected it as he looked back at her in the medical bay. Hobart: You know that's not fair… Her lower lip was starting to tremble. She was running out of time before she lost her nerve. She marched across the room and took Nolen's face in her hands. Her eyes searched his, her storm gray to his obsidian. Overwhelmed by emotion, and very worried this was the last chance she would ever have, she kissed him passionately. Pouring into the kiss her feelings, her hopes, and her hurt. When she broke the kiss, she nipped his lower lip with her teeth with a smidge more force than normal. His hands gripped her waist tentatively, as if trying to hold onto a moment he wasn’t sure he was allowed to keep. His mind felt completely submerged in a blue sea, as her emotions enveloped him, and as she pulled away he felt it pour out of him, drawn out through his lips like a puncture in the ship’s hull, her very essence pulled into the vacuum beyond him leaving no trace of itself but the memory of her. It was one who wouldn’t soon give up willingly. Ohnari: ::softly, but sternly:: Get your shit together, Nolen Hobart. In or out. You think about it, and come find me with your answer. Hobart: I will. End ——— Lt. Commander Nolen Hobart Executive Officer USS Khitomer (NCC-62400) A240001NH3 & Lieutenant Commander Talia Ohnari, MD Chief Medical Officer USS Khitomer C239205ME0

((OOC The events that Zenno is concerned about were told in the sims: “A Foe Whispers…” and “PPE 2: Electric Boogaloo” and others in which he had visions speaking to him.)) ((Zenno’s Place, Temporary Berthing, DS9)) The tides pulled him in every direction. He was under the water now and there was no way out. He wanted to talk to his sister, but she was away. He was worried about the girl they had rescued from DS33, but he had not heard back yet. He had had a most peculiar set of… Communications? Hallucinations? Visions? These were when he was in the middle of combat on Deep Space 33. But most of all he wanted to talk to Saava. As infuriating as she was, she always made things better. But her ship was also gone for now. So there was only one route open to him. He hadn’t told anyone on the ship about the visions… hallucinations, or whatever they were. But they were deeply concerning. He had thought about seeing his ship’s counselor, but they seemed to have been called away too. After pondering it for a good while, he had contacted his Blood and Water Uncle… his Mother’s Brother. Uncle Vidd always seemed to have the proper perspective on things. While he didn’t expect a resolution, he was sure Vidd would have some good advice on where to go next. In preparation, Zenno had sent along a rather lengthy set of excerpts from his personal logs to explain the situation. Zenno looked at the chrono and waited for the correct time for the call to connect. Computer: ::Blorp:: Incoming call. Zenno: Accept. The screen illuminated with the image of his Uncle Vidd. Vidd: Boy, what are you doing? Are you dead? Zenno: No Uncle. I am not dead. It would upset Mother. Vidd: That’s fine then. I said you shouldn’t join Starfleet. It’s no place for our kind. And it upsets my sister. And her husband, But I don’t care one way or the other about him. Zenno tried not to smile. The battles between his Uncle and his Father had been the stuff of legend. Vidd, very much on the side of tradition and culture had battled Father who was a complete rationalist on every issue for as long as Zenno could remember. For his part, Zenno always stayed neutral, just trying to appreciate them both, difficult as it was. But in this case, Zenno knew he had to talk to his Uncle. Those visions had had such personality and vitality. It didn’t seem like a fleeting mental imagining. It felt more… real. But it was not real all at the same time. To resolve this apparent conflict, Vidd seemed like the right choice. Zenno: I understand. ::beat:: The tides brought me to seek your advice. The whole experience has shaken me. It wasn’t the combat. It wasn’t the fighting, the bits of the dead all over the deck. I was trained for that. I expected it. I was not prepared for spectral apparitions. Vidd: I read everything you sent. The fighting sounded awful. Zenno: It was. But I thought I might be going insane. Vidd: Now you say you had both the living and dead? At the same time? Zenno: Yes, my Uncle of Blood and Water. But they were speaking to each other about me. It was most disconcerting. Vidd: Xott I know. Who was the other one, the woman? Zenno hesitated, unsure of what words to use. Zenno: A… an academy classmate. A friend. Vidd: My Nephew of Blood and Water, you are a terrible liar. It’s good you didn’t join the Diplomatic Service. Zenno: I don’t know what you mean, Uncle. Vidd: Just promise me I can be there when you tell your Father. I want to see his head burst open when you tell him. Zenno: I have no idea what you mean. Vidd: ::Harrumphs:: And an old teacher too? He also appeared? Zenno: Yes, Nardello. A very strict and demanding Officer. Vidd: He spoke to you? Zenno: Yes, he… he taunted me. An opponent also spoke to me, even though he was deceased. Vidd: This next question is the most important. You must not prevaricate. You already did once on this call. I won’t tolerate it again if you want my help. Zenno: I swear upon ocean and river. The older Bolian nodded. Vidd: Did you see anyone who wasn’t an actual person? Like a made-up imaginary person? Zenno was taken aback by this question. He hadn’t considered that, or what it might mean. Zenno: No Uncle. They were all real. Much about Xott was exaggerated, but he is historical. Everyone I saw, they all exist or existed. Vidd sat back in chair and put his finger to his temple. Vidd: I know what this is. I know what happened to you. Zenno leaned forward. At most, he had hoped for a sympathetic ear. He wasn’t expecting that his Uncle would know what it was. Vidd: Where to begin? ::pauses, he closes his eyes and swirls his finger against the temple of his head:: We are not a telepathic or empathic people. You know this. Everyone does. But the world is much bigger than that. Some of our people carry.. uggh… the words aren’t sufficient to describe it… cultural memories. But not of events or places. But of people. The word is Zuwah Itzay. Someone close to Xott had it, and thousands of years ago he or she imprinted Xott and passed it down to you. It’s not a spirit or a ghost. It’s the sense of the man and how he was. And now we know that you can imprint others and will pass them down in your time. There were a million questions and they tumbled out of him in no semblance of order… Zenno: Who gets imprinted? Can I choose who? Is it biological? How do I know for sure? Is it debilitating? Can I call up other people? How many are there? Vidd: ::waving his hands in the Bolian way for “no”:: No, no. Stop. You misunderstand. This is not a talent. It’s not something you can use or develop. It’s something to be endured. There is a reason there is no science on this. It can’t be controlled or evoked in a lab. Zenno squinted, trying to make sense what his Uncle was saying. Vidd: The imprinting happens and you’ll not know if you did it or who you did it to. You don’t choose it. There’s no way to test it or call it up. The visitations, that’s the correct word, will only happen when you are under extreme stress. And you’ll have no say over if you’ll find the experience helpful, debilitating, or irrelevant. Now if you happened to be hooked up to a brain imager in the most life and death situation you can imagine, then they might see something on there if a visitation occurs. But even then, a visitation may not happen. It’s out of your control. It is not an advantage or a useful skill. In a more primitive time they would have called it a curse. Zenno: But I thought I spoke with a deceased opponent. Vidd: He may have been dying when you came across him. It doesn’t matter. You still imprinted him. But you weren’t speaking with him. You were speaking with your interpretation of what he was like. It’s not exact when you are dealing with other species. Xott, that one was probably much closer to how he actually was, since whoever imprinted him was probably someone of long acquaintance with the man. ::pauses, exhales:: But I am rapidly exhausting my knowledge here. Zenno: What should I do? Vidd: My Nephew of Blood and Water, I have no good advice. This is not good news. What I can do is this. I can connect you with an informal group that has the Zuwah Itzay. It’s just a support group really. And I suspect some of them are pretenders. But there’s no way to tell. But they would know the most of anyone, and there is precious little to be known. Zenno: This is a great deal of information. I don’t know how to feel about it. Vidd: It’s somewhere between rare and uncommon. But even some Bolians who have it, it may never manifest. Life in the Federation is easy. If the lore is to be believed, the kind of stresses that have a chance to evoke a visitation are extreme. Many could have it and not even know. That’s why it’s so rare. Most people haven’t even heard of it. Zenno: Uncle… I regret that I know this. I regret having this. I… don’t want it. Vidd: I am sure you aren’t alone in that. But you are strong and you get that from your Mother’s side. You shall endure it with grace. Zenno: Thank you for your wisdom, Uncle of Blood and Water. Vidd: Be well, nephew. Also, don’t speak to your Father of this at all is my advice. He won’t understand. Zenno nodded, turned off the communications panel, and sat back in his chair with his hands over his eyes. He had a lot to consider. NT/END LT Zenno Security Chief USS Khitomer A240006Z13

A beautiful sim from @Vesela Pace; I love the little nod to her species, and finding a small but impactful link to her people through a tapestry in a shop. Ensign Vesela Pace - Antiques, Eccentricities, and Other Small Things in Life. (google.com)

You ever get the impression that cats think of us as staff? Well apparently it's universal no matter the setting. Also, would take a phaser to the face for our lady Copurrnicus. ((Sam and Esmas apartment- Palais Bourbon District, Amity Outpost)) Sitting in front of a small mirror sitting on the desk, she repeated her morning mantra to herself. Copurrnicus: I am Professor Copurrnicus. I am the cutest kitten. I rule this roost. I. Am. Queen. S. Richards: It’s cute how you sit in front of that mirror every morning and meow at yourself. Copurrnicus held her head high as her owner picked her up and scratched under her chin. Copurrnicus: oOYes peasant. Scratch me like you mean it. Oo S. Richards: Aww, you’re such a sweet kitty. Let’s head to work shall we? Copurrnicus: oO I still don’t know what work means but if it’s that fun place with all the breakable glass and plants to munch on, lets go. Oo She waited patiently for the Mother Peasant to slip her collar on her, when she did she gave Sam her best big-eyed stare. S. Richards: Fine. I’ll carry you, but at some point you’re going to get too big for me to carry the whole way. Copurrnicus: Meow oO We will see about that Mother Peasant.Oo With a scoop, Sam was now holding her in her arms. That wasn’t where she preferred to be, so she climbed up onto Sam’s shoulder and eased herself into the hood of the jacket. Her own little cocoon to keep an eye on things behind Sam as they journeyed to work. ((Blue Line Train - Amity Outpost)) The kitten stayed in the hood on Sam’s jacket until they reached the train. Once they were settled in a seat Copurrnicus heard a familiar voice and perched herself back on Sam’s shoulder. Copurrnicus: oO Ah, yes. One of my other favorite peasants. Uncle Nathey-poo.Oo With all of her might she leapt from Sam’s shoulder and into Nathan's arms, nearly not making the jump. He made a strange sound but relented into pets and pats on top of the kitten's head. Copurrnicus: oO I am the image of speed and precision. Pet me more peasant. Oo The two people Copurrnicus looked at as her saviors were chatting about something called a warp core. Sounded like nonsense to her, but she was getting attention from the big guy with fumbling man hands. As soon as the attention started, it stopped. Copurrnicus: Meow ::waiting for attention and receiving none:: MEEOOW. Uncle-Poo let out a sigh, but did not continue with the pets. Copurrnicus reached down and gently patted the hand holding her. No reaction. It was time to up her tactics and get his attention. She lowered her head and gently bit the back of Nathan’s hand. N. Richards: Excuse you… S. Richards: Sorry… ::taking the kitten back in her arms:: She’s like me. I bite if I don’t get attention… Mother Peasant laughed as she gave the attention Copurrnicus wanted. ((Some time later- Science and Research Center, Amity Outpost)) Mother Peasant led the way into the lab. The kitten's favorite place. There was so much to jump and climb on and knock down and bite. She instantly spotted a particularly breakable glass beaker on the counter and vaulted herself to a nearby stool, using it as a stepping stone to the counter. Mom wasn’t watching, this was her opportunity to scootch the glass off the edge and listen to the delightful sound of it breaking apart. S. Richards: No ma’am. Off the counter, you know that. Copurrnicus: Meow oO My plan… Foiled once again. I’ll get that if it’s the last thing i do…Oo S. Richards: I think it’s time to ask Uncle Nathey-poo to make you a one of a kind cat tree. Something to keep you occupied when you come with me to the lab. ::booping her on the nose:: You are trouble. Y’know that? Another meow came from the kitten as she was set back down on the floor. Defeated, Copurrnicus curled up on the small bed that was made for her under the edge of the counter, right by her moms feet. She closed her eyes and had sweet dreams of climbing, jumping and biting the big guy. END Samantha Richards Civilian Science Liaison Amity Outpost A240103SR3 Special Guest: Lt. Cmdr Nathan Richards Uncle Nathey Poo Chief of Operations Amity Outpost A239905NR1

((Onamani Overlook Trail, Lake Vermillion – 3 Weeks After Frontier Day)) Had that really just happened? Had she really just asked him to marry her? Robin’s mind was still swimming with confusion. It didn’t feel wrong, it just felt… like a decision someone else would make. She’d never thought of herself as the type to ‘settle down’ – but then, she’d never imagined meeting anyone who would inspire her desire for such domesticity. Hopper: I… I haven’t even considered a ‘ceremony’. We’ve never… Do you want a big…? Now, here they were, discussing things like wedding rings, and what type of ceremony they wanted! How was it that she could confidently manage a department of hundreds of scientists without batting an eye, but the thought of planning one little wedding made her get all flustered and clammy? Richards: I’ve never really thought about it. Honestly, I will be happy with anything as long as I am with you. What do you want? Hopper: Honestly I have no idea… Is that terrible? ::Flustered, hand on forehead:: I don’t think I’ve ever really thought about it. I don’t think I ever really thought it would happen. In all her dreaming, Robin Hopper had never really imagined herself being married. A married woman. Robin Hopper. Robin Richards? No, that was no good. Hopper: We’re keeping our last names, right? Nate chewed on his lip for the briefest moment before smiling and shrugging. Richards: That might be a good idea. ::Chuckling:: We have too many Richards on Amity as it is. A fleeting smirk briefly took her lips, before her eyes widened at another realisation. Hopper: What will Sam say? What will your mother say? Richards: Sam will be overjoyed. She already thinks of you as a sister. Robin furrowed her brow and screwed her mouth to the side, clearly uncertain about what was about to come next. Richards: My mom on the other hand… Hopper: She’ll die of shock. ::Nervous:: Or she’ll kill me. Nathan sighed and shook his head. Richards: It could be a classy wedding and funeral arrangement. Hopper: ::Giving him a slight shove:: Ugh, Nathan. With a dramatic sigh, Robin lay down, back flat against the rock, staring up at the sky. Straining her eyes, she could just see the setting sunlight glinting off the scattered starships filling Earth’s exosphere. Something about being on this planet made her feel tiny and insignificant. Maybe that was it – up there, she was Lieutenant Commander Robin Hopper. Chief Science Officer. Amity’s third in Command. Starfleet. Down here, with all that left behind, who was she? Just a girl… She glanced over at Nathan. …Who loved a boy. Her eyes moved back to the darkening sky. Hopper: I want to tell my grandparents first… If you don’t mind? Richards: Response Hopper: They’ll be beside themselves. Get ready for more family pictures and a lot of doting. ::Blinking:: Don’t let me let Nana talk me into wearing her old wedding pantsuit. I’d rather go Betazoid style. Her eyes darted back down to Nate’s face. Hopper: And that is not happening either. Richards: Response ((One week later – Hopper Residence, Minnesota, Earth)) Lynn: Well, hopefully it won’t take a Federation-wide tragedy to get you two back here on Earth again sometime soon… Don’t think I’m going to settle for holoimages of my granddaughter and her husband. Robin rolled her eyes in mock agitation while Lynn reached out and gave Nathan’s shoulder a squeeze. They’d packed what few belongings they had to bring back with them and, after a sizeable breakfast, had made their way onto the porch and down the front steps towards their transportation back to the nearest hub – and from there, it was back to Amity (save for a quick stopover in San Francisco for Nate to respond to Captain Rahman’s mysterious summons). Rick: Hey, don’t I keep telling you the poor man’s taken? Robin’s grandfather chuckled and gave the younger pair a cheeky wink before moving forward to shake Nathan’s hand. Rick: Welcome to the family, Lieutenant… And thanks for lookin’ out for our little Birdie. Hopper: ::Under her breath:: Papa… Richards: Response Robin stepped forward, wrapping her grandmother in an appreciative hug. Rick, patting Nathan on the arm, released him and made his way to join the family embrace, gingerly hugging his wife and grandaughter. Hopper: I’m glad we could come here. I don’t think there’s anywhere more healing for me, other than back home maybe. Lynn: Well, just don’t make a habit of it, dear. You be careful out there. Rick: You heard the woman. Mind you don’t take any more lumps, kiddo. With their departure time pressing, Robin broke from the hug and waved them both goodbye as she turned away, taking Nathan’s hand and beginning to walk down the little stone path to the nearby road. She gave his hand a little squeeze, then turned to him. Hopper: What are you feeling? Richards: Response She nodded. Hopper: A bit of everything, really. Excited. Scared. Proud. Embarrassed. ::Chuckling:: We’ve got six weeks to sort it out. By the time we get back maybe it’ll finally start to have ‘settled in’... In the meantime– She held up her left hand, admiring the ring that now encircled her finger. Hopper: ::A little smile:: Butterflies. Every time I think about it. Richards: Response

Writing the first MSNPC is always memorable. Doing it so well, with remarkable world building, and making us eager to see how this mission unfolds requires talent. But we all know @Gnai is one of the most talented writers in the Fleet. This is just another proof:

Some of the sims in here are eloquent explorations of grief, duty and the heroic ideal. Others are haunting introspective and brooding looks at pain and loss, both personal and profound. All laudable, sure, but as a counter-point to all that I offer this delightful fart joke, just now dropped in my lap by @Dekas, and thank him for flapping my way. =================================================== ((Quark’s Bar, Deep Space Nine)) Dekas woke up on the mischievous side of the bed that morning. And all the way through the day, into the evening, he had to fight the base urge to do something about it. He was the counselor. He was a staunch professional. He couldn’t possibly pull these things on strangers. So he was hoping not to run into anyone he knew. Except then he glanced over a scan of the room and saw Karrod Niac. Truly none the wiser about any of this urge. If Dekas was smart and reasonable, no one would ever know about this urge save for a passing telepath. oO Just go about your day, Dekas. Just keep walking. Just don’t even go in his direction. Oo By the time he finished the thought he’d already started heading in his direction. And he’d made eye contact. oO Dekas, please, we can talk about this. We have a good career right now, do you really want to risk that? Oo Dekas: Well, hello Karrod. It’s marvelous to see you! Niac: Response. He thought to himself now would be the perfect time to say “have a nice day, Captain, see you later.” He could have. He should have. It would have been the reasonable choice. And yet… Dekas: Oh, I’m doing lovely. No one’s sitting here, are they? Niac: Response Dekas: Well if you’re sure… He took the seat across from him. Dekas: So any fun plans during your stay here on DS9? I mean if you have any. Niac: Response Dekas nodded, definitely listening. Waiting for the perfect moment, where the sound in the area wasn’t too much, and so he could get away with glancing in another direction for a moment. The less than brightly colored area was perfect to potentially get away with it without him noticing. An inward nod, before he did as his people could do with near perfect sound mimicking… and made a fart noise. oO ::dramatically at himself:: Noooo. Oo Dekas: ::incredulously, as though he wasn’t the cause of the sound:: Captain… Niac: Response Tags / TBC… — (OOC 1: I do not typically add this many tags, but it was important for the moment here. OOC 2: This is inspired by the fact that parrots will not hesitate to make a fart noise at you if they know how. They know their crimes and they think it’s hilarious.) Lt. Commander Dekas Chief Counselor USS Ronin J239802D12 Pronouns: They/she (player), He/him (character)

I thought this was a really cute personification of the ship's computer; was a delight to read! @Alora DeVeau

((Suite J-32, Junior Officer Temporary Quarters, Habitat Ring, Deep Space 9)) Mirkl, quite used to feeling and looking embarrassed himself, easily spotted the blushing cheeks of his fellow ensign. He didn’t see any reason to be embarrassed about any holodeck escapades. He could probably benefit from taking a break from reality every now and then. Zanti: I haven’t played much on the holodeck. What program were you running? Bad choice of words. “Play” sounded more childish than he had intended. He could see the color drain from her face. He had definitely said the wrong thing. God, why couldn’t he form sentences to correctly match the ideas and sentiments in his head. What was wrong with him? After what felt like an eternity, she responded, somewhat sheepishly. Lacy: Star Conflict, Episode One. Like I said, I heard some others talking about it and I— Zanti: It looks fun. He had almost blurted out his thought. From filtering and garbling too much, to too blunt. The engineer looked back up at the Trill with a hard-to-read expression on her face. Had he made things better? Or worse? Lacy: It was. I can send you the library index code for it, if you like. Mirkl nodded enthusiastically–maybe too enthusiastically–and added what he intended to be a reciprocal offer. Zanti: I come from a part of Trill that has what humans might call onsen. I have a program that replicates a famous one that I grew up near, if you’re ever interested. After having made some kind of headway in the awkward conversation, Ensign Lacy’s brow suddenly furrowed. Her eyes narrowed. Her spine stiffened. Lacy: You're… inviting me to a public bath? Mirkl blushed even harder. That’s not what he had meant. Zanti: No! Well, I mean. Uhh… I can share– Like you said– If you want– Why wouldn’t his words form coherent sentences? This was torture. How could he dig his way out of this one? And fast? Yet… Lacy: I'm sor— ::giggling:: I'm sorry! You— ::cackle:: Mirkl was unsure as to what was happening. Why was she laughing? Shouldn’t she be horribly offended? Zanti: Umm… I’m sorry? Lacy: It's not funny! ::laughing:: No, it's— ::throat clearing:: Mm. No. Not funny. ::hint of a giggle, forcefully stopped:: Right. Mirkl began to smile. Thankfully she seemed to realize his true intentions, despite his mouth’s best efforts to betray him. Zanti: ::chuckling weakly:: Huh, I’m glad you– you found it so funny. She wiped the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. Lacy: I hear they're very relaxing. The baths. Maybe she had experienced something as embarrassing in the past from the other side, because she sure seemed to know how to smooth things over. Zanti: ::too quickly and loudly:: They are! Very. Not the Hoobishan Baths, but not as overrated, either. Lacy: I'll take you up on it. I'd like to visit. ::beat, smirk:: Alone. Zanti: ::nodding:: Of course. Of course. We’ll do an exchange of programs! It’ll be great. Lacy: Response Mirkl asked a question that had been nagging the back of his mind since the beginning of the conversation. Zanti: Um, you mentioned yourself and your roommate, who’s gone to Vulcan. Do you know who my roommate is? Have you met him? ::beat:: It is a “him,” right? Lacy: Response Zanti: Ah, I see. Lacy: Response Zanti: So… what else do you do for fun? Does the Khitomer have any unique traditions I should be aware of? He was changing topics too quickly and abruptly. He knew it. He needed to get away and to his bedroom as quickly as possible. He was so in his own head, he could barely focus on his suitemate's responses. Zanti: oO Breathe, just breathe. Oo Lacy: Response TAG! TBC… Ensign Mirkl Zanti Science Officer USS Khitomer T238407S10

((Suite J-32, Junior Officer Temporary Quarters, Habitat Ring, Deep Space Nine)) It took eight straight days of volunteering every one of her waking hours for repair duty, until 's one faceless counselor got avoid of her records and rejected Ensign Lacy's request, with a stern note that vaguely hinted at an order to relax for at least five minutes. She had a good run. It might have been cut short much sooner, if she hadn't been careful to alternate shifts between the Khitomer and the Ronin. But all good things must come to an end, and Ginny found herself awake with nothing constructive to do. And so, she decided to try something new. She'd overheard a few crewmen on the Ronin discussing a new holoseries. “Space Conflict Episode I,” which despite its title was oddly the fourth to be released. To Ginny’s ears, the fantasy series about space wizards and knights with laser swords sounded silly, but the longer the thought lingered in her mind, the more her curiosity grew. So she tried it, falling into the role of a lasersword-wielding wizard-knight. It was difficult, at first, but she found refuge in the fictional monastic order's rigid ideology that discouraged attachments and elevated duty above all else. It was from this simulation that Ginny returned to her assigned temporary quarters, still clad in the costume befit for the holonovel. She was concealed beneath flowing robes of off-whites and warm browns. And when she stepped into the suite's common area, she was startled to find an unfamiliar face. A long pause followed as Ginny decided how best to address her attire, but the young man seemed unfazed. Zanti: Greetings, I’m Zanti. ::beat:: Err, Ensign Mirkl Zanti, that is. She drew back her costume’s wide hood to reveal her dark brown hair wrapped in a tight bun. The light of the room hinted at faint reddish hues as her green eyes considered the Trill. Lacy: ::slowly:: Ensign Imogen Lacy. ::beat:: Most call me Ginny. Zanti: Are you also assigned to these quarters? oO Obviously… Oo Her forehead furrowed at the question. Why else would she be there? One eyebrow tugged up towards her hairline as she pondered whether to give the young man a hard time about it. Owing to her mild embarrassment at the precise manner in which she was out of uniform, Ginny decided to play it safe. Lacy: I'm assigned to that room over there. ::pointing:: With Ensign Michaels, but she mentioned she'd be going to Vulcan. I'm not sure if she's back yet. The suite was co-ed, but at least in this particular unit the bedrooms were not. And Ginny wasn't sure why she was divulging so much information about her temporary roommate unprompted. Zanti: How long have you been stationed here? Are you also from Khitomer? Lacy: I'm in Engineering, under Commander Dewitt. ::thoughtfully:: Michaels is, too. Again with the Michaels thing! By this point Ginny had entered the common area, and was, well, disrobing. Underneath, she wore loose tan pants tucked into cloth boots, and a flowing white tunic held together by a sash tied at her waist. She wasn't sure why space wizard-knights needed so many layers, but as with all things she endeavored to authenticity. Zanti: I see… Do you know how many others live here? She folded the robe around her forearms, and leaned against the top of an armchair-back. Lacy: You're the fourth. ::awkward pause:: So… three. Her eyebrows emphasized the answer, as it felt like the logistical questions were beginning to wear thin. She was certainly not anyone's choice for Khitomer’s Chief Conversationalist, but even she could see that this train was running out of track. Zanti: Response Another lull. Ginny cleared her throat. Lacy: Which department? ::beat:: Yours, I mean. Which department… are you in…? Zanti: Response Lacy: Ah. Then I'm sure we will be working together, sooner or later. ::beat:: The science department is always breaking things, which we go fix. That's what the, um, Engineers are for. Which I am. An Engineer. So… Conversation! Words! Saying things! Ginny prayed it would be over soon and she could retreat to her bedroom, curl into the fetal position, and stay that way until the sweet release of the universe’s heat death. Why did people-things have to be so difficult? It was much easier when everyone hated and ignored her. She'd have to find a way back to that. Zanti: Response And there it was. Things had gone so very well when neither one of them acknowledged that she was dressed like a space vagrant. And by “so very well,” it was meant “embarrassingly,” but she estimated that the longer the conversation ran on, the nearer “utter disaster” reached certainty. Lacy: Oh! This! The robes. I, well… I don't usually go in for holonovels. But I wanted to try this one I heard of, and they say it's better to, um, wear your own… it's silly. Her cheeks flushed red. Who was she? Where did Imogen Lacy, full of confidence and spite, go off to, and why had little Ginny in the ugly yellow flower dress taken her place? Nobody asked for you, Ginny! She vowed then and there to never wear anything but a duty uniform, in every circumstance, in every occasion. That was her armor, and she didn't like the feeling of being without it. Zanti: Response Tags/TBC ——— Ensign Imogen “Ginny” Lacy Engineering Officer as simmed by Lt. Commander Nolen Hobart Executive Officer USS Khitomer (NCC-62400) A240001NH3

I love the interaction @TAma had with her future inlaws as written by @Quentin Beck It explains so much about the good doctor.

((Vahin Family Compound, Undersea Habitat 12, Kisaran Ocean, Bolarus IX)) After a quick transfer at DS9, Vahin had finally made it back to Bolarus IX and in a matter of moments would be seeing his mother Osi in person for the first time since she received the diagnosis that she had mendaxic neurosclerosis. The silicon-based disease was fatal, and so far, there was no cure. It was believed that an active positronic matrix would be the key to unlocking the mysteries of this disease but the attack on Mars in 2385 had put an end to that. It wasn’t until just recently, with the ban overturned, that research could once more begin in full. The Vahin family compound didn’t look much different from the last time Vahin had been there. He was sure, that if he checked, his small apartment would look exactly how he had left it. But for now, he wanted nothing more than to see his mother. He had purposely avoided telling the rest of his family he was visiting, he loved them, but his trip was a short one and he wanted to focus on his mother. He pressed his hand to the doorpad outside his parent’s apartment and walked through the door as it slid open. As the familiar sights and sounds of his childhood home hit his senses he was overcome with a wave of memories. There was the spot he and his twin sister Arixu use to pretend they were undersea explorers. There was where his older twin brothers Drevu and Dasiu used to playfight much to their parent’s annoyance. A pot bubbled on the stove and the apartment was filed with the smell of stewing fish; no doubt one of his father’s delicious concoctions. Vahin’s stomach grumbled but he walked past the kitchen to the back of the apartment where his parents’ room was located. As he reached their door he softly knocked. From the other side of the door he heard his father Aram’s voice telling him to enter. Vahin walked into the room to find his father sitting next to their bed holding his mother’s hand. His mother’s eyes were closed and her chest slowly raised and lowered as she breathed. Aram: ::quietly:: Araxxu! We didn’t know you were coming. His father gave his mother’s hand a gentle kiss before standing and embracing Vahin in a tight hug. Aram: It’s so good to see you in person. We missed you. He closed his eyes and returned his father’s hug. For a moment he felt like a child again; safe in the arms of a parent he knew would always protect him. But as he opened his eyes he saw his mother laying in bed and he knew those days were far behind him. Vahin: How is she today? His mother looked much frailer than last time he had spoken with her. He noticed her skin was a paler blue then normal and she had lost weight. It was odd seeing her laying in bed. She was normally awake more hours in a day than she slept, if not at work then puttering around the compound tending the plants or helping family members with whatever they were working on. Aram: Today…today is not a good day. She is very weak. His father looked over at Osi and for a moment it seemed like the man would begin to cry. He took Vahin’s hand and led him over to the seat at his mother’s bedside. Aram: Sit, sit. I have a stew to tend. She will be so happy to see you when she wakes. Vahin took a seat and reached out to take his mother’s hand in his. Her hand felt so small and fragile in his but also familiar and he wished he never had to let go of it. They sat like that for some time. Minutes went by and he simply watched her sleep. The grown-up doctor in him had left and he was simply a boy who loved and missed his mother. He felt the tears begin to slide down his face. Osi: ::softly:: Oh Arax. So, like your father. With his free hand he wiped away the tears and tried to compose himself as he smiled down at his mother. Osi: I’m so happy you came. Have you seen Ari? Vahin: Not yet mother. I came to see you first. Osi: Well as you can see I’m perfectly fine. She began to chuckle but soon the chuckle turned to coughing and Vahin handed her a glass of water that sat next to the bed. Osi: ::she drank then handed the glass back:: Thank you Arax. Vahin: Mother I’m sorry I’m not here more. I want… Osi: Hush dear. You have important things to do. Exploring the Ring. How exciting. Bolarus was never going to be enough for you. I’m so happy you joined Star Fleet. Tears began to well up behind Vahin’s eyes and he tried to blink them away. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small box that Commodore Oddas had given him only a few days ago. He opened it and held it out for his mother to see. Vahin: They promoted me. I’m a full Lieutenant and they made me Acting Chief Medical Officer. Osi reached out and took the pip box in her frail, shaking hands. She ran a finger over the shiny pips before she looked up at Vahin and smiled. Osi: Oh Arax. How wonderful. ::cough:: I’m happy that Commodore Oddas sees how hard you’re working. Vahin: Thank you mother. She’s a great leader, one of the best in Star Fleet. Osi: Now tell me all about what you’ve been up to on Denali. How is Drex? When will he come visit? What about Kettick, he didn’t hurt himself again did he? I know Remmilian’s are tough but tell him I worry about him. Vahin smiled as his mother spoke about the crew of Denali Station. It was just like her to remember all the names of everyone he had every mentioned to her. He was glad that, so far, the disease that was destroying her body had left her mind intact. Vahin: Drex sends his regards. He wanted to come on this trip but it was such a quick turn around. I’ll see if he can come next time. Kettick is good, Alix patched him up really well from last time he got hurt. His mother gives Vahin a loving pat on the hand. Osi: I know it was hard when Dr Harford was transferred. It’s never easy losing someone you enjoy spending time with. Vahin: oO I don’t want to lose you either. Oo Osi: But what about Commander DeVeau? I hope you have pictures of that darling child of hers. And what about that counselor Strathmore and Lt Commander Falt? They’re doing well I hope. Vahin: It’s Commander Falt now and yes mother, they’re all doing well. Osi began to try and sit up more in bed and Vahin reached forward to help her. Osi: Well, we have time before your father’s stew is done and I’m not going anywhere. So why don’t you tell you mother all about what’s been going on around Denali. I could use some excitement. I love your father but his stories about the water reclamation system in hydroponics aren’t exactly thrilling. And so, sitting next to his mother’s bed, his hand in hers, Vahin spent the next few hours telling her all about life on Denali and the crew there that he thought of as family. NT/END <><><><><><><><><><>=/\=<><><><><><><><><><> Lt Jg Araxxu Vahin Medical Denali Station D240006AV3

((Drex’s quarters - 38th Floor, Soldotna)) The days had passed quickly after his return from the routine mission to improve communications within the Ring. The unpleasant experience in the parallel universe had caused Drex to spend much of his free time studying subjects outside his speciality. The amount of work, however, was excessive, and he had ended up in Commander DeVeau's office with the utopian expectation of receiving a magic formula that would free him from the discomfort of ignorance. In what little free time he had left after returning from the boat trip with Araxxu, Falt and the new Ensign Tanner, he had tried to make himself useful by looking after little Shyla whenever Alora needed a good night's sleep. So, hour after hour, day after day, he had spent little time in his apartment and neglected to call home. In the end, however, he had had to give in to the call of hibernation, and when he had found himself at home with nothing to do, he had called Ayra before going to bed. Ayra: You’re still wearing the pendant… :: The tone halfway between question and observation :: Drex lowered his gaze to look at the metal disk hanging on his chest. It was a silly superstition, but harmless. And he liked the shape and color. Drex: Won’t harm. Ayra nodded. From so far away there was little she could do for her brother. She had asked him to come home and even thought about visiting him on Denali herself, but Drex had categorically refused both options. Gods knew who he wanted to impress by being tough! Ayre: Are you resting at least? Drex looked back at the monitor and smiled. Drex: Yes, I am. And I’m ready to hibernate. :: He straightened his shoulders, showing off his pajamas.:: What about you? When will I be an uncle? Ayra caressed her belly gently, returning the smile. Ayra: Two more months at least… Do you want to know if it’s a boy or a girl? Drex: I already know! :: He smiled slyly :: Ayra: You do? Who told you? :: She frowned :: Drex: Nobody… I bet is a girl. You look so beautiful and bright. It has to be a girl! That was one of their mother’s theories: girls would make the mother prettier. And supporting this theory was the fact that Lora had never made a wrong prediction. Years before, when the family held a bet about the first pregnancy of Dania, Drex searched for a scientific explanation. With his own surprise he even found a valid reason in the production of male hormones in the fetus. Nevertheless he was far from his mother's infallibility. Ayra: :: Nodding :: We’ll name her Meli. :: She took a brief pause :: How's it going over there? I tried to call you more than once in the last week, but you’re always busy. What’re you up to? Drex shrugged slightly. Drex: The usual. Working, studying… I’ve been out trying the boat. Ayra: I saw her out of water. Dad was filling her with all the scanners she could take. Drex: Yeah, way too many… Will he really analyze all that data? The whole Ring is artificial, what does he hope to gain? This time it was Ayra the one who shrugged. Ayra: I’ve no idea. He didn’t involve me in this. Drex: Of course he didn’t :: He smiled slyly :: He knows you’ll tell me what he’s up to, but please inform me if he leaves Kalus. I don’t want to find him knocking at my door. The woman giggled and nodded. Ayra: I will. So… any news? Drex: About what? Ayra: About anything… Dominique or any other… Drex shocked his head. Drex: Pregnancy is making you worse than Ral, you know , don’t you? Ayra: Oh, come on! Don't think I'm going to imbibe the story you've been studying all day! As Ayra bended towards the display, Drex turned his eyes away. Out of the window, clouds had covered the sun and the evening was darkening fast. Ayra: Ah ah! What is it? No, no… Who! is it? Drex: I think I have to go now. :: He moved as to interrupt the call :: Ayra: Don’t you dare Drex or you'll have to worry not only about dad at the door. He did not let her finish her threat. The display went dark. The notification of a new incoming call began to ring a second after. He ignored it and, getting up, went to the window. With the clouds gathering in the sky, rain was not long in coming. The first drops wet the window and Drex followed one of them with his finger along the glass. If he had been smarter, he would have told her something about Dominique. Now she would have tormented him until she got the truth. Lucky, he will have five to six days to hope her own business would distract her enough to leave him alone. oO Credeghe… she’ll find out, just tell her now. Oo He chose a new drop to follow. Drex: It ain’t any of her business. The notification finally went off. oO Safe for now. But you’re hiding from yourself. Oo Drex: I’m not. I just need to go to sleep. oO Liar. You like her. Oo Drex: ::Taking a deep breath:: I… don’t. And you know it. And we know it’s complicated. She’s a good friend, at least, I hope we can be friends. The Denobulan took his finger off the glass and closed his hand. oO I know. Then why are you so scared of Ayra? Oo Drex: Because I know her. She won’t believe I’ve changed so much to babysit someone else's child. oO But you are. And you’re doing great. She told you more than once. Oo Walking towards the bed, he touched the environmental controls, plunging the bedroom into darkness. He needed to sleep. The surreal conversation he was having with himself was clear evidence of the confused state his mind had now entered. He crawled into bed and curled up on his side, finally closing his eyes. There was only one woman he was in love with, and she was on Denobula. And the five years he had been away have not changed that. NT/END ============ Lieutenant Drex Science Officer Denali Station D240011D14