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  1. @Wil Ukinix playing Annamae Barberra truly is a treasure and I'm thrilled she's a visiting character. I wanted to put a quote in the Ronin appreciations quote, because it's entirely possible I've fallen a little bit in love with the existence of this character in general, but then I just kept finding more quotes that were good in this one and decided it was best I just share the whole thing 😂
  2. I guess you may already know that but USS Arrow simulation was just launched last Monday. In order to celebrate such unique event here are the nominations for the Top Funny Quotes of the Season. 🤣😆😂😝
  3. ((Soldotna, 21st Floor, Mac's Quarters)) Mac sat in one of the few chairs his living room currently held. He had been alternating an ice pack on and off his left forearm for the last thirty minutes. He'd stopped by the Clinic before heading back to his room, and one of the nurses had verified Mac's assumption that he'd overdone it in his workout, but they treated his arm and assured him he should be fine in a day or two. McGillian: Computer, begin personal log. Personal Log, Daniel McGillian Jr, Stardate 240104.16, I'm not sure where to start really. I thought I had started out on the right foot here, but clearly some old habits die hard. Mac was referring to his habit of trying to handle stressful situations on his own, and his lifelong struggle with connecting to people. McGillian: Instead of just easing into my new position, I managed to make myself look like a fool in front of the Commodore. ::sigh:: Atleast Falt thought I showed initiative. Mac did some of the deep breathing and grounding techniques that Tristana Yodel, the Counselor aboard the Alamo had taught him during their many sessions throughout his teenage rage years as he had come to call them. McGillian: If im being honest with myself here, I'm disappointed at being grounded instead of on a starship out exploring, and it kind of puts me on edge. Counselor Yodel would say ::imitates Yodel:: Daniel, you are allowing your fears of the unfamiliar to limit your ability to connect with your surroundings and your peers. ::sighs:: Pretty sure she'd be right too. I practically ran out of the awards at the first opportunity. Mac's thoughts swam. He'd been so focused on safety he'd fallen short on a key factor of security, your crew mates. He'd always wondered if it was his experiences or his Rodulan heritage that seemed to make it harder for him to connect with people. Maybe it was both. McGillian: Not everything has been bad, I had a good talk with Alex, Commander DeVeau was nice. ::wide eyed:: I should have seen if she needed anything after the awards. I never answered Lt. Xiron's question either. Mac stood up and started pacing. He felt bad for rushing out at the end of the awards ceremony, and although the Commander was certainly a capable woman, Mac just wanted to help. He had read about her loss when going through reverification paperwork, and postponed Deveau's until after the child birth. No one needed security clearance stress when dealing with everything she had going on. McGillian: I will check in with the Commander soon, I wouldn't want to disturb her now. ::loudly sighing:: I suppose I should probably make an appointment with the station's Counselor, maybe. I should check in with the new Chief of Security, Lt. Cmdr. Kendrick, first thing tomorrow. Computer, end log. Mac stretched his arm and stopped pacing at the front door. He turned to face his living room, and brought his hand to his chin while his brow furrowed. McGillian: Definitely need more furniture. NT/END _________________ Ensign Daniel McGillian Jr. Security Officer Denali Station D240104DM2
  4. ((Lora’s home - Kalus - Denobula)) ((OOC: this sim takes place almost at the end of shore leave. I haven't put any tag but if someone wants to meet Drex's family, please feel free to jump in!)) If Drex had made his calculations right, the house would have been empty. His mother Lora had a lecture at the Science Academy and his half siblings had moved from the house years ago. He was the last one to abandon the nest, but since he was not married he did not really leave it after all. He placed his right palm on the security panel near the main door. With a soft hiss the door unlocked itself. A sweet scent of flowers escaped from the inside, traveled through his nose and broke out into a nostalgic smile and a childhood memory of him and Ayra playing hide and seek with their mother. If he had made his calculations right, he had the time to refresh himself and eat something before anyone would find out he had returned. But "if" was wrong. As the door opened he realized his calculations were based on totally false axioms. Not only was his mother at home, he could hear her contagious laugh from the main living room on the right, but he could recognize at least six of the other members of his large family. Tara with her son Adrax and her daughters Alina and Riel, Tes and…wait! Was it Jorx the one who almost choked himself laughing? He surely was. Why were they all at home at that hour of the day? Instinctively Drex turned and raised his gaze to the sky towards the sun: it was definitely late in the morning. As he watched the sun moving motionless in the sky he toyed with the idea of closing the door again, nullifying all his good intentions, inventing an emergency to return to the ring and blaming anyone of his superior officers for his absence. oO They’ll never find out Oo Surely they would not. oO Oh… Yes. She will and… she will too. She knows you better than anyone else, you can’t lie to her. You did and she made you regret it.Oo Drex: Ayra :: He murmured with a deep breath :: oO And she, she will ask you about the ceremony. You can lie, she doesn't know how it really works, but are you ready for the consequences if she'll find out? You won’t lie to your section head officer. Oo Drex: Oh... just shut up. :: He commented bothered :: Ral: Always talking to your imaginary friend? The deep voice of his half brother caught him completely off guard. Drex lowered his gaze from the sky to the taller Denobulan. He forced a smile, trying to hide his disappointment of being mocked once again. Drex: Ain’t a friend. He's more of an annoying brother. The other man had kept walking and was now face to face with the science officer. Ral was half a head taller than Drex, but of the same build. Since they both inherited their mother's coloring and curly hair, they could easily be mistaken for twins. And the few years difference had not yet left any wrinkles on Ral's face. Ral: You miss me so much I’m one of your hallucinations now? :: He chuckled :: Drex: Hallucination? :: He shook his head :: Not at all. My hallucinations are all beautiful and kind and gentle and useful. But… I can classify you as a nightmare if you really insist. :: The mouth curved into a wide, sincere smile. :: I’m glad to see you, Ral. Ral returned the smile. Ral: I’m glad you made it. Ayra was driving me crazy, she even insisted that I come to pick you up at whatever place you could be. Ral reached out with his right hand for Drex’s bag as he rested his left hand on his shoulder. Ral: Let’s get inside before you decide to run and hide on a Starfleet ship once again. Drex: I did not hide. Why’s everyone here? You assured me they all had to work today. Ral: Yeah, I did :: He nodded and gently pushed his brother inside :: Drex took three steps backwards and with the forth he witnessed the door becoming the block of his only escape route. Drex: So, what happened? :: He insisted :: Ral: Mom is pregnant. She was keeping it a secret, until the marriage, but :: He shrugged :: she felt sick this morning while she was with Tara and you know how she is… Drex: Tara loose tongue. :: He sighed :: The older Denobulan nodded. Ral: You bet she is :: he laughed :: You’re better turned, our mother made some changes to the house and you risk tripping over something if you don't watch where you're going. Drex was forced to leave his bag to his brother while turning to face the following two steps that would have placed him right in the center of the doorway of the living room. An uncomfortable silence felt in the room. It lasted hours, or so it seemed to Drex. But he blinked his eyes only twice, before a voice he knew well and had missed too much shouted his name with joy. Lora: Drex! You made it! The woman rushed to her son and gave him a big hug resting her head on his chest for a moment. Drex inhaled the smell of her curly brown hair and his heart smiled. Drex: Hi mom… Ral told me the news, congratulations :: He embrace her for no more than five seconds before they pull apart :: Lora: Oh… He was supposed to be a secret. :: She slapped the air in false frustration with her left hand :: Come. Come and sit. You must tell us all your adventures before your sister sniffs you out and takes you away for preparation. Half shuffling and half walking, Drex reached the center of the room, where he was surrounded by the others. Despite having tried in various ways, he had never managed in all those years to make them understand how much he really hated that type of situation. On the other hand, how could a Denobulan be born and raised in an overpopulated city and in a family structure which, if one also included uncles and cousins, could count a few hundred members? For a few seconds the voices overlapped, but then one silenced the others. Jorx: Let him breathe :: He entered the room from the kitchen :: I’m curious to hear about his fabulous Starfleet. Drex clenched his jaw, even ceasing the forced smile he put on for being the center of attention. When his mother stepped aside, allowing him to see past her, he stared hard into his father's smoky gray eyes. Half of Drex’s family was home that morning. That was unexpected, especially since his half brother Ral had guaranteed him the house would have been empty. Instead, due to his mother's unexpected pregnancy, Drex found himself facing not only his mother, but also his father, among some of his own siblings and nephews and nieces. He has been away from home for more than a year now. The last time he visited his family, things did not go as smoothly as they should have, and an innocent remark caused a major row between Drex and his father, Jorx. Drex left Denobula the following hour and had not spoken to his father since, but now his twin sister was getting married and made him promise to help, so he found himself, for better or worse, facing his old man. Jorx: Nice to have you finally home, son. I hope you put some salt in that head of yours. Drex was tempted to walk away, but with the corner of his eye noticed Ral blocking the way. The doubt that he had lied to him and the meeting was prepared crossed his mind. Drex: Guess ain’t something you should care about. :: He spitted out :: But since you asked, I’m fine, thank you. And satisfied. He unzipped his jacket and got a small box from the inner pocket. Drex: Got something for you. He approached the older Denobulan and handed him over the box. Drex: I got promoted a few days ago. :: He ignored the small chat and congratulations the news produced on the others presents :: And Commodore Oddas gave me this for saving lives during the last mission. As you can see, I’m not wasting my time. I’m making a difference. Jorx took the box and looked at the ribbon inside. Jorx: Saving lifes? :: He snapped the lid shut :: You’re an architect, you save lives designing safe buildings! You… Drex: I’m not gonna waste my license arguing with you. I already proved my point. You are scared, I understand that, but you cannot control my life! Jorx shook his head with a snort of disbelief. Jorx: I never wanted to control your life, but you are letting others do it. You gave up your freedom for what? This? :: He raised the box a little :: Great deal :: A grimace marred his face. :: Lora: Leave him alone, Jorx, or leave this house now. His mother’s interference stopped Drex as he was ready to reply. His fist twitched against his side and he managed to bite his tongue before saying anything else. Drex: I’m the one leaving, mom, as you said a few minutes ago… I need to see Ayra. Ral: I come with you. Drex: No… I know the way. Drex was upset. Not only with his father, but with Ral and the others as well. They had planned to trap him, until his mother realized there was no way the two of them could come to an agreement that way. Without too much grace, he pushed his brother aside, making room for himself to reach the corridor and from there the exit. When he reached the outside, Drex walked without stopping down the avenue. His gaze to the pavement, he did not pay attention to the blue spots created by the blossoming Denobulan almond trees that lined the street. It had once been his favorite sight. He had hundreds of paintings in his laboratory, each a different attempt to photograph the magnificence of nature with the brush. He never got even close to perfection, but he never desisted, till today. Absorbed in his thoughts, mostly focused on complaints towards his father, he reached the building where Ayra lived. He and Ral had designed this building. A 23 floors tower, with balconies bursting with trees and shrubs. It was the first job Dorji had given him as chief architect. As he reached the entrance, he stopped and looked at the result of his first work. He felt proud of his achievement and the clouds that darkened his heart cleared. He entered the doorway and then the lift. His sister lived on the last floor. The rapid ascent lasted only a few tenths of a second, but it gave him time to put what had just happened in the back of his mind. As he knocked on the door, he realized how much he had missed Ayra and how much he wanted to hug her again. He felt stupid for not coming back sooner. He laid his hand on the sensor. The door opened and Ayra appeared. Her black hair was dyed mid-length a bright purple. The surprise on her face was sincere and a wide smile lit up her face. Ayra: Drex! She threw herself around his neck, hugging him. Drex: Easy! Easy! :: He laughed, hugging her back :: You’re gonna choke me. He moved forward, carrying her inside the apartment. Ayra: I missed you so much. Drex: Let go :: He chuckled :: Yet he was still holding her. His heart and his brain were in conflict with each other. She was his friend, his confidante and the model for all his lovers. She was, in fact, the reason why he never got married. Drex: I need to take a shower… :: He breathed in the scent of her hair one last time. Then he let go. :: Alone. :: He added in a whisper :: His sister took a step back with a smile, setting him free. Ayra: When did you become so shy? :: She mocked him :: Drex: We’re not kids anymore, Ayra. :: With a slight note of regret :: And you… :: He pointed at her :: you’re the one getting married tomorrow for the second time. Ayra: Oh… I see… now it’s my fault, isn’t it? :: She walked away pretending to be annoyed :: Make yourself at home then. Drex: Thank you. He took his jacket and shoes off, placing them in order in the cabinet near the door. Drex: Do you still have some of my old clothes? I left my things at mum’s… Ayra: Were you there before coming here? Why didn’t you take a shower there? Drex: Dad was there… long story… Ayra raised an eyebrow. Ayra: Long story? Your shuttle landed less than two hours ago. Get in the shower. I’ll get the clothes and you’re going to tell me what he said this time. She approached again, giving orders, but he saw the concern in her gaze. Drex: I don’t want to talk about that now, really… I… Unexpectedly, Ayra hugged him again. Ayra: You’re doing great, Drex. :: She whispered :: Don’t listen to him. I’m proud of you. NT / END ============ Ensign Drex Science Officer Denali Station D240011D14
  5. Explore the universe as seen through the eyes of the crew of the OEB!
  6. Please post any funny lines or memorable quotations from sims from our crew!
  7. What can I say, except: I love Renirs SO DANG MUCH. @Jovenan truly has made the best PNPC in the fleet. Reading her torment my jellyfish is an absolute delight.
  8. Help, I need an adult! An adultier adult! 💀💀 @Ian OConnor has slain me with this.
  9. Going to kick off the new quotes thread for the Astraeus with one from our Vulcan doctor, @Solok. I just love me some dry, Vulcan humor 😂
  10. ((Paoike Colony, Drever IV)) Jalana had basically fled the scene. On one hand she tried to keep a distance on Diz’mim, still not over the fact that the guy she had been flirting with and spent all night talking with on Arentis was now her First Officer. She did not want to give him the wrong impression and distance was the best thing she could do. On the other hand she did not want to cross paths with Tagus. Hearing that name after all this time had shocked her to the core. She checked on her Tricorder and the rudimentary outline her scanner had made to figure out which way to go to get to these ruins. She should just go around this building, through this field and then straight until- Kiamon took a few steps, eyes down trying to avoid the puddles while he balanced his PADDs in his arms. He didn’t even register that there was another person there until he quite literally collided with them, PADDs flying everywhere. Bending down, he was startled by a memory… But it wasn’t his memory. Not really, anyway. Same as in this moment it wasn’t exactly Jalana’s memory, but in a way, it still was… (( FLASHBACK )) (( Trill - A bookstore )) The room was dimly lit. At least it appeared that way, as the ceiling high shelves packed with books blocked out the sun, so the visitors relied on the light coming from the ceiling. It gave them enough to see the titles, to read a few pages, but one would not want to linger and read. It was the kind of atmosphere that invited to browse and buy, but one wanted to read in a better spot. Perfect for a bookstore. That new book smell hung in the air. Paperbound hardcover, soft cover, printing ink. Paradise for bibliophiles. Fascinating that it was the same on many planets. Books had an universal smell as if different species had discovered the same secret formula to what made books smell like magic. Pinar hummed to herself as she walked through the bookstore. Her dirty blonde hair was messily plopped on the top of her head in a large bun with strands hanging out that inadvertently framed her face. Her long fingers trailed along the shelves and occasionally moving up to the spines of the books, appreciating the beauty and history as she felt the various textures on her fingertips. Her blue-gray eyes focused on the titles, not sure yet which book she was looking for, but knowing that she would be certain the moment she saw it. A few aisles down a young Olen moved along the shelf with purpose. A few books already on his arms his finger moved along the spines in front of him to focus on the titles, following the finger helped him to not let his eyes stray. He could swear that he heard a hum somewhere, maybe it was the climate control, so he shook it off. Pulling another book from the shelf he opened it to flick through the pages before a smile appeared on the young man’s face, exactly what he needed. Piling the book on to the pile in his arm he continued his path along the shelf. Maybe there was more on the other side. So he took a turn. Pinar had just selected one book and had flipped it open as she rounded the end of one aisle and intended to move on to the next. She knew approximately how many steps to take before turning, but was rather taken aback- quite literally in fact- when she felt the sensation of running into something solid. Her newly discovered read fell from her hands as she herself stumbled forward, reaching out to brace herself in case she fell. Something bumped against him, straight frontal bump, sending the books flying. He only heard it, the weight gone from his arms, because in the surprise he had closed his eyes, stumbling backwards. Blinking a few times, more out of shock than anything else, she saw the man she must have collided with and felt her cheeks flush. She couldn’t see his eyes yet, as they appeared to be snapped shut, but he was still rather physically attractive to her even without knowing the color. Dahn: Oh dear.. When he opened his eyes again his dark brown gaze looked down into the most beautiful blue-gray eyes looking right at him. From what he could tell just as startled as him. Varel: E..excuse me. I… are you hurt? Pinar looked down at herself to verify what she already knew. Dahn: No.. ::she nearly whispered the words and spoke a little louder:: What about you? Why was she nervous? Pinar’s heart skipped a beat even as she felt herself desperately trying to form words and sentences longer than a few words. Varel: No, no. I’m fine. He cleared his throat and took a step back. As he went to bend down to pick up his books, she did the same and he once more bumped into her, this time his head against hers. He rubbed his forehead. Varel: Sorry. It’s fine. I can… Pinar blushed harder, even as she rubbed her own head after their second collision trying to pick up their fallen books. She smiled softly at the man who was obviously as clumsy as her before moving slightly and continuing to go through the books. As she went on to pick them up he looked at her, something formed a knot in his chest. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. And of course he had to practically beat her up like that. Exaggerations were definitely his style. She picked up a book, thinking it was hers, but found it was not what she was expecting. She looked back at the man more curious than ever. Dahn: Are you.. That is.. Do you write? Varel: Uh.. yes. Yes I am. Well aspiring Author rather. Something all these books about writing, styles, prose, and character development might be able to tell her. Pinar’s lips quirked up, and she handed the man one of the books he had been holding. Dahn: Aspiring? Have you published anything yet? Varel: No, not yet but…. Well, I’m working on it. He had been working on it for a few years, getting stuck here and there. Non-Fiction was so much more challenging, but it was what he wanted to do. Following in the footsteps of the great philosophers… Pinar flushed more, aborting her start to collect more books to instead brush off her dusty hands and reach out. Dahn: Pardon me. I seem to have lost my manners in the collision ::she winked playfully and extended a hand:: I am Pinar Dahn. These cheeks being blessed with the soft tint of pink made her look even more radiant. Pinar.. The name sounded like music. Olen stared at her for a moment longer like a lovestruck teenager. Even though the teenage years were just behind him. Then he realized she had extended her hand, the wink speeding up his heartbeat. He wiped it off, making sure there was no sweat on them and took her hand to shake it. Varel: Nice to meet me… you… I’m Varel…. Olen.. Olen Varel. ((END FLASHBACK)) Kiamon smiled to himself as he remembered the now bittersweet memory. There was a flood of conflicting emotions when it came to Olen, but before the hurt there were some good memories. Shaking his head he pulled himself back to the present and remembered the person he had nearly tackled by accident. Tagus: Are you hurt? Jalana snapped out of the memory at the voice. Just now realizing that the hard thing she had ran against was not in fact a wall or something like that but a person. She raised a hand rubbing her forehead, even though she had hit him with her chest. Rajel: Yeah… I mean no, I’m fine. :: She looked around realizing her hand as empty. :: Are you hurt? He looked at the redhead, feeling himself blush ever so slightly. She was beautiful and Trill and… Starfleet? Tagus: No, I’m fine thank you. I’m so sorry about that.. Rajel: No no , I’m sorry I should have looked where I’m walking. Still looking for the PADD she saw a whole pile on the ground hers and a few others and nodded as she took half a step forward and bent down to pick them up. Kiamon bent forward to grab the PADDs and instead hit his head against the woman again. Rubbing his head he gave her a sheepish smile. Tagus: I guess I never learn. Sorry about that.. What were the chances? If she had a strip of Latinum for every time that happened… she had two strips, which wasn’t a lot, but it was crazy that it happened twice. Rajel: Likewise. She said with a little laugh and picked up the PADDs before straightening up again. She looked down on them to find her own when she saw what was displayed on them. Rajel: Oh, are you a Scienti- She began and her stomach sank, realisation hitting her. .oO Please don’t let him be a Trill, please please please. Oo. Looking up she looked into those blue-gray eyes that could almost be Pinar’s. And there they were. The tell-tale spots around his face, stunning her into silence. .oO Shit Oo. Kiamon smiled and looked up from the single PADD he had managed to grab before her. His eyebrow scrunched together in confusion for a moment, though as she trailed off. Shrugging it off he used his best charming voice. Tagus: Caught me! I’m Kiamon Tagus. ::He looked politely at her, silently asking for her introduction as well:: Rajel. .oO I know Oo. ::She simply stared at him when he introduced himself, swallowing. He was not Pinar, yet she could see her in him, how was that possible?:: I… I’m Jalana. So this was Jalana. He had known the name sounded lovely, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t think she was as lovely as the name. He nearly laughed at himself, realising how silly and unprofessional he was being. Besides, now finally he could get somewhere with the help that he had asked for. Jalana was the Commanding Officer. But Jalana what, exactly? Tagus: Such a pleasure! I, uh.. ::he chuckled slightly:: I have to admit I never did catch your surname on the report. She had to tell him. He had to know. It wasn’t fair that she did and he was in the dark. Pressing the PADDs against herself like a shield of protection she took a deep breath. Rajel: Jalana … ::She repeated, pausing before taking a deep breath and adding.:: … Rajel. As a scientist, Kiamon knew that physically time had not truly stopped or slowed, but relatively speaking it had. He felt like he had been sucker punched in his gut as all the air in his lungs escaped and he dropped the PADD in his hand. Rajel. She had said Rajel. His heart pounded against his chest as if trying to escape and Kiamon took a stumbling step backwards, away from the Trill before him. Tagus: Rajel.. It was barely a whisper and if Kiamon had cared he wouldn’t have been certain that the woman could hear him. Instead, he shook his head and blinked back the tears forming in his eyes. Blue eyes that may as well have been Pinar’s with the amount of tears they held. He couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t he breathe? She heard it. All the charm, the smiles, all of it gone. The whisper pregnant with disbelief, with shock and painful memories. She couldn’t blame him, not one bit, not at all. It was all on her. No, on Olen. It was his fault. She remembered it and the memory squeezed around her chest like an iron fist. She had been in its grip from the moment Bolen had mentioned his name. Of all the worlds, of all the galaxy, why did he have to be here? It had been so much better to run from the past. Kiamon wasn’t a doctor, but he was certain he must be dying. He- or rather Tagus- had experienced death many times over. This must be it. The end. But with an anger that was most definitely not typical of him, rather channelled from Pinar herself he set his jaw and glared at Olen. No, not Olen, Rajel… Tagus: You! His voice was gritty and filled with hatred. With hurt. With a pain nobody should ever feel or know. She couldn’t help it, the tone of this single word made her wince. She should have known it would come. Of course he would hate her. No… she would hate him. Pinar would hate Olen for this. Rightfully. But these memories were part of them, it was near impossible to keep them distant. Rajel: ::whispering:: I… Tagus: How could you?! Rajel: ::quietly:: Pinar… Tagus: Kiamon. It was short, but as much a reminder for himself as it was for her. She wasn’t Olen. He wasn’t Pinar. She cursed inwardly. She knew that. He was not her, even if he carried her memories, her life with him. Rajel: Right.. Sorry. Kiamon. ::She sighed.:: I… What was she supposed to say. Sorry that I tore myself out of your life? Sorry that I made your world crumble into pieces? How would one apologize for that? Kiamon cringed. She was clearly struggling and he wanted to care. He also wanted to switch off these memories and get on a shuttle and put as much distance between them as possible. He had always known it was a possibility this could happen, but after so long there was a hope that this would be avoided indefinitely. Tagus: You.. ::no, not her, he reminded himself:: He.. He left.. Them. It was a struggle to put that separation, but he tried. He felt the pain as if it was his own. The heartbreak hurting as if it had just happened all over again. Even the way he said it was all in a kindness to her. Pinar’s words wanting to slip out. oO Coward. How could you, Olen? Oo Every cell in Jalana’s being wanted to tell Kiamon how sorry she was. How much she regretted something that she had not done. The memory was deep ingrained into her. Olen was after all the symbiont’s first host. Rajel: I’m sorry. It was merely a whisper. It didn’t even come close to how sorry she was. There were no words to express it properly. The heartache, the pain, the grief. Everything that Olen had caused, the way he had hurt his wife and their daughter. Without an explanation. Kiamon took a deep breath and began pacing, completely forgetting about the crops and the PADDs and the mission. Lifetimes and lifetimes filled with the lingering grief of losing Olen. And for what? How many people were offered an opportunity like this? And yet, he didn’t know that he wanted to hear it. What could Rajel possibly say that would make this okay? Tagus: He had a family and he just… ::his fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly:: Jalana closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Rajel: I know. He stopped pacing and looked up at her, even though it pained him to do so. The woman he had found so enrapturing now gave him flashes to painful memories. Tagus: I just.. ::he huffed, wishing he could be more eloquent:: I want answers. I need answers. Rajel: No. I don’t blame you. I… I cannot explain it right now. I.. ::she hesitated.:: I will try. But not now. Kiamon’s eyes flashed in frustration and he faced her fully head on. Tagus: Why not now? Rajel: We have the colony to worry about first. ::She said gently looking up to him.:: As much as I want to explain, it… there is a lot to unwrap and ::with a sigh she added, as gently as she could.:: … it won’t bring those lost years back. But we can help the people here to not lose their years… yes? Kiamon shook his head, battling his anger again. Of course he.. No she wouldn’t want to talk about it. Olen never wanted to talk about things. Stubborn until the end- clearly a trait that Jalana shared. Tagus: And perhaps you’ll conveniently just beam back on your ship and leave before we get that chance to talk? ::the accusation was clear in his tone:: She couldn’t blame him for thinking that. It would be easy to finish the work here and run again, never to be seen again. But she knew it would just be a matter of time until she’d have to face it again. She had to give him answers. Rajel: No. I promise I am not trying to push it under the rug. You will get answers. He still wasn’t sure he believed her, but the moment he took to breathe reminded him that they were standing out in the open where anyone could hear and that wasn’t particularly appealing either. And stars, she was right. As much as he hated to admit it, the mission was more important than this right now. Curse his Starfleet training guilt tripping him. Tagus: ::muttering:: Fine.. Jalana hoped that he agreed, but she didn’t understand what he muttered. So under his breath. Rajel: Sorry, what? Kiamon cleared his throat and reluctantly spoke louder. Tagus: I said fine. But I promise you this, if you try to leave without talking about this I will seek you out. I’m not Pinar.. I am far more persistent. Her gaze rested on him. Pinar had been gentle but when she wanted something she dug until she got there. It was how she had managed to deal with Olen all these years, especially when he lost himself in his writing. She was the one to be able to get him out of that world into reality again. But she had no doubt that they had a different kind of persistence. She could already see it in the brief interaction. Rajel: Wouldn’t expect it any different. Kiamon reached his hand out for his PADDs with a sigh, his other hand running through his hair leaving him looking dishevelled. Tagus: So… were you off to somewhere in that hurry or…? It was an olive branch. A peace offering. A signal that he would do his best to play nice right now, even though every fiber of his being was screaming at him to yell at her. Seeing the hand outreached Jalana had the urge for a moment to take it. She already loosened the grip on the PADDs to reach out but then realized he would want his PADDs back and changed the direction of her hand as if that was always planned this way and made sure not to give him hers. Holding out his PADDs she nodded. Rajel: Yes. Ad… Sir Bolen mentioned ruins outside the settlement from the old power plant and such. I wanted to have a look at it. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about them, do you? JP by Commodore Jalana Rajel Commanding Officer USS Constitution B Image Team Co-Facilitator A238906JL0 & MSNPC LtCmdr. Kiamon Tagus Botany/Ecology Specialist On Special Assignment As played by: -------------------- LtJG Dr. Eleanor "Ellie" Park Medical Officer USS Constitution-B Writer pronouns: She/Her or They/Them Character pronouns: She/Her A238908T10
  11. The post-mission chat scene between @Talos Dakora and @Addison MacKenzie just kept getting brilliant-er as its two writers developed it. But to kick off the new Artemis quips, quaps and quotes thread, I chose to showcase this particular snippet. I'm imagining the inaccurate-but-comical impression sounds like Tina from Bob's Burgers.
  12. I figured instead of having a monthly thread, we could just keep a running thread of funny instances in our sims.
  13. With the new ship up and going now, it's time for an appreciative quote thread. Did someone write a quote that was hysterical? Absolutely soul-destroying? Or maybe just the best thing you've ever seen? Well post about those little quotes here. I'll go first. This little interaction between @Karrod Niac and @Toryn Raga from their intro JP made me snort. 🤣
  14. I feel like if you make the Captain cry, you automatically go to Appreciations. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200.
  15. The Gorkon away teams are currently navigating a secretive station laced with hidden traps here there and everywhere, and in this really fun sim from Vylaa we get to see some of that action in a whole load of cool descriptions and dialogue 👏 Lt Vylaa zh'Tisav: Bada Boom. Big Bada Boom (google.com)
  16. (( Denali Station, Soldotna, 21st Floor, Mac's Quarters )) McGillian: Security Officer's Log, Stardate 240104.06, I have begun my duties at Denali Station and have already come across some things that I am concerned about. Mac paced across the floor in his new room. It was spacious, much more spacious than what he'd had on board the Forrester, the Alamo, or the Academy. He found it both refreshing and a bit anxiety inducing, he'd have to get some extra furniture or something to make the space not quite as open. McGillian: There are numerous personnel due for security clearance verification, security seems mostly preoccupied with the protection of the administration center, and the Commodore does not have an armed escort when leaving the administration center. Computer Pause. Mac brought his hands up to his face as he stopped pacing. He rubbed his hands up and down his face and then took a deep breath. McGillian: Computer, resume log. ::continues pacing with hands behind back:: I've submitted the list of personnel requiring security clearance reverification to Lt. Cmdr. Falt, I should be able to begin interviews tomorrow morning. Mac paused for a moment, he knew to some extent his recommendations would likely cause some disgruntled attitudes, but he had watched his father endure similar and worse things when upholding security regulations. McGillian: ::clears throat:: In addition, I've delved into the security records and discovered that the Commodore does not maintain a security escort when leaving the administrative area of Denali Station. Given the recent events that occured before my arrival, and the general threats possible when moving outside of the secured administrative area, I have made Lt. Cmdr. Falt aware of my intent to bring my recommendation directly to the CO for her safety. Mac stopped pacing and placed his hands on the back of one of the tall chairs sat at the kitchen bar and slightly leaned down. His quarters came with a full sized kitchen. Not that he knew much about cooking to fully make use of it. McGillian: I hope that the Commodore will take the gravity of this seriously. Finally I have submitted recommendations to Lt. Cmdr. Falt to establish a Federation Security Outpost within the city. Given the large population, that seems to be growing daily, there needs to be an established lawful Federation presence within the city that can handle matters on the civilian side. End Log. Mac took a deep breath and turned around from the chair to face the main living room. McGillian: ::places hand on chin:: Definitely need more furniture. NT/END _______________ Ensign Daniel McGillian Jr. Security Officer Denali Station D240104DM2
  17. ((Observation Room, Brig, Deck 11, USS Ronin)) Behind a section of the adjoining bulkhead where a one way hologram concealed a level ten forcefield, Karrod watched, listened and scowled. After wrestling with it for days, he’d decided B’ek’s immediate value to the Ronin outweighed the nagging doubts he simply couldn’t dispel. To his surprise, Starfleet Command agreed with his assessment and put up little struggle to keep Karrod from retaining custody. That fed his anxiety as well, sensing something more and more wrong with his recent interactions with Command but still unable to decipher what was going on in the minds of the fleet's bureaucracy, hundreds of light years away. He mulled it for a moment, but the startling appearance of B’ek, seemingly close enough to touch, pulled his mind back towards the present. Behind him, there was a hissing sound. A door opened and closed briskly. Light footsteps of padded-soled boots approached the commanding figure of the Trill. After a few seconds, the CSO stood at his side, dark eyes locked on the same spot as the Captain. Alieth: Satisfied with that information, sir? She held out the PADD with the data the defector had provided, and she studied the Trill's stern face as he took it. He’d glanced over the list of potential target systems while B’ek had input them, but his scowl remained fixed firmly in place. Niac: He gave us a lot of information without actually telling us much useful…that list of planets he spat out could’ve just been a database search of ‘class M planets with ample biodiversity.’ Got to give him credit…he’s not making this easy. And that suggestion about the Gorn…I just don’t know. The petite Vulcan suppressed a grimace, which nevertheless plucked slightly at her lips. Then she shook her head, long strands of untamed hair swaying with the subtle movement of her head. Alieth: ::with a minute sigh:: He will not tell us anything useful. There was a hint of anger and frustration hidden in the soft wrinkle between her tilted eyebrows, in the tension of the elegant muscles of the diminutive Vulcan's angular jaw. He’d worked with the intense, diminutive Vulcan long enough to pick up on the small shift in her mood…a frustration with the situation that was coming close to outright anger. He pitched his voice down and fixed her with a sympathetic look. Niac: It’s not your fault…we knew this was a long shot. If it helps, I doubt the SFI people would’ve gotten even that much out of him. It was a sour solace, but a solace nonetheless. At the end, she turned to face the Captain, and held his gaze for a moment, a dangerous spark in her eyes. Alieth: ::with a deliberately even tone:: If it were up to my advice, I would encourage dropping him off at the nearest Klingon penal colony. Favouring a very frigid one. A soft curl appeared at one corner of her mouth for a split second, then a pondering frown settled in her strong features Alieth:: Tetra, on the other hand... you pointed out weeks ago that she could be considered a born in the Ronin, and therefore a full Federation citizen… That was a puzzle that the diminutive Vulcan had been pondering ever since, and one that had come up more than once in her conversations with Saros. Neither the discussions nor the conundrum had come to a conclusion that fully satisfied the Vulcan. During that brief pause, Karrod sighed, preparing himself to deliver more frustrating news to someone who’d already had more than their share. Niac: I’ve spoken to representatives from the JAG Corp, three xeno-cultural legal specialists and even Ambassador Buford on DS33…nobody wants to touch this one. As of this moment, Tetra is classified as a ‘stateless being,’ having no specific point of origin, allegiance or culture. My understanding is that there were even communications sent out to the Tholian Assembly to determine if they wanted to take custody…they haven’t responded. I doubt they will. For all intents and purposes…Tetra’s home is this ship. Which makes me her legal guardian. The frown on her face deepened, and a soft crease appeared between the two slanted eyebrows. Alieth: While I rely on your judgment, Karrod, this is no place for her. We have no facilities where it can fully develop, and this :: motioning a hand slightly towards the nearest bulk plate:: is a heavy cruiser in a looming war. What was left unsaid, but plain in her words, was that the decision was substandard, to say the least. Niac: I know it’s not what you wanted to hear…and it’s less than I had hoped for. But the Alliance is still a ‘developing threat’ as far as Starfleet Command is concerned and while they’ve told me they’ll look into this matter with “all due urgency” I got the impression I was getting the brushoff. Alieth: They had abandoned her, then.:: oO All we are Oo was left unsaid, once more. An eerie, dense and ominous silence spread through the tiny room. After a while, Karrod looked through the transparent forcefield and felt a shudder as he caught B’ek’s glowing eyes. For a moment he got the impression the Tholian was watching them, but then B’ek’s attention returned to the datastream coming from Tetra’s habitat. Niac: I don’t give one single damn what happens to that Tholian, but when you and your team decided to try to keep Tetra alive you took on a responsibility, and it’s not one I intend to shrink from…even if it seems like the Federation wouldn’t mind if I did. I’ve written orders for you and for the whole science department that state, among other things, that you are to take all measures appropriate and necessary to preserve this beings' life to the best of your ability. That will give your people all the latitude and cover I can provide. She allowed herself to break her dignified façade briefly in the privacy of that quiet room and pinched the bridge of her nose, shutting her eyes. Alieth: You see, I asked Miss Lorana not to get attached to her, but she never listens. She shook her head and once again folded her arms behind her back, the brief loss of composure past and forgotten. Alieth: We will find a cure for her affliction, but we need a place for her ::looking at B'ek through the one-way window toward the cell:: and for him long-term, and it cannot be the Ronin. Tugging at his beard in frustration as he considered the endlessly thorny problem, Karrod jabbed an angry finger towards the forcefield. Niac: I agree with you that the easiest solution would be dropping that guy off on Rura Penthe in a t-shirt, but we both know that won’t solve our problems…even if it does make us briefly feel much better about them. Alieth: ::with a slight impish tone:: Is it possible to leave him there for just a little while? It would be a very formative experience for him, for sure. Possibly one that would make him a little more chatty. Karrod crossed his arms and his expression hardened. Niac: Alieth… She let out a short huff of air through her nose, not a chuckle, but something that if one listened very carefully could be interpreted as such. Alieth: All right, no penal colonies. :: She looked at Karrod, one eyebrow raised:: Do not even consider telling Mister Raga that I suggested it, or I will disarm you again, and this time for two weeks. Putting his arms up in mock surrender, Karrod shook his head in frustration. Niac: I’ll keep that in mind. The simple fact of the matter is that once I transfer either of them off this ship, I lose all ability to influence what happens to them. I realize this environment isn’t…ideal by any means but I don’t think there’s ‘better’ available at the moment. Our options consist entirely of bad and worse. The brief moment of levity passed, the Vulcan's slanted brows darkened her eyes once more and her gaze turned, again, to the prisoner. Alieth: About the Gorn joining the Alliance... What's your opinion? I do not trust him, but somehow, the way he said it... it seemed genuine. Karrod felt his shoulders tighten as he considered the prospect of the Lattice Alliance welcoming yet another antagonistic, xenophobic species that ranked most of the Federation by how well they’d taste at a buffet. Niac: It’s...an incredibly disturbing prospect. And one we can’t ignore, even if he is just trying to rattle us. The Gorn have a lot of resources and almost no contact with the Federation, so our knowledge of their capabilities is incredibly limited. She gave a small nod. Alieth: We have to try to find out how much truth there is in this. He felt a decision clicking together in his mind and grabbed a nearby PADD, transferring the recording of the entire interrogation and beginning to make notes. Niac: Starfleet Command can’t keep ignoring this…and I’m not going to let them. If I can’t get someone on subspace who will actually act on this, I’m taking a runabout and throwing this PADD on their desk until they pay attention. I can be…very convincing in person. Karrod’s grip on the PADD tightened until his knuckles popped. The petite CSO turned to the captain and raised one hand just a bit, then paused and lowered it again, palm formally against her side. Alieth: Your orders, sir? Niac: Keep the good Doctor here in containment till I can figure out what to do with him. You have my authorization to leverage any resources you need to help Tetra…you might even ask around while we’re still in orbit of Ferenginar. You can pick up a lot of…exotic materials here that might not be part of standard Starfleet equipment. Alieth: Understood. I will get in touch with... people I know there. They might have something that can help us. ::once again she had to hold her expression tighter than she usually did, control over her emotions, thin:: I am confident that Lieutenant Lorana will find a way to put it to good use. She is very invested with Tetra. Karrod let out a long breath and focused on Alieth, his expression softening for a moment. Niac: Good work on this, Commander. Make sure your team knows they’ve got my full confidence. If anyone can figure this problem out…it’s you. While you’re doing that, I’ll go take on a much more complex mystery….Starfleet Command’s hearing problem. Sparing one final glance towards the viewport, Karrod’s jaw tightened as he made his way to the door, already planning the opening salvo of the tirade he’d be sending Command’s way. He hoped it would be enough to get their attention before it was too late to matter. Alieth stood back and watched him go, before she turned back to the chamber where their uncooperative guest dwelt. There, in the solitude of the concealed room, she let her mask crack into a grimace of disdain and disgust at the abject creature that stood before her. [[End]] ================================ Commander Karrod Niac Commanding Officer USS Ronin - NCC-34523 V239509GT0 & Lieutenant Commander Alieth Chief Science Officer & 2O USS Ronin USS-34523 E239702A10
  18. ((Special containment cell, Brig, Deck 11, USS Ronin)) The petite Vulcan spun over her heels, slowly, and stared at the Tholian for a very long time, a period carefully calculated to discomfort any non-Vulcan, and then retraced her steps back to the position she had occupied in front of the cell. As if nothing had actually happened. Luxa followed Alieth lead, she observed the changing colours of the Tholian. A ruse? A deceit? He was certainly capable of that. Or was it that he faltered? The reality of the situation had dawned on him. The Caitian suspected that it could be both things. The glowing shifting of colours of his eyes and face were a representation of his hesitation. B’ek: My knowledge of the full extent of the Alliance is limited, as I was not a high-level commander, but I will provide what answers I can. The CSO nodded, slowly but deliberately. Alieth: Questions are simple: what is the Lattice Alliance's organizational structure? Where is located its main HQ? Which forces does it have at its disposal? Whose are its allies? The questions were simple. The answers, not so much. She knew B'ek probably didn't have a tenth of the information they needed, but any detail they could get, any little bit of information, would go a long way toward giving them a slight advantage in this uneven game of cat and mouse they were playing. One in which their enemies knew far more than they did. Lorana: Provide us with a list of the worlds you planned to terraform? She thought of Cait. Her homeworld, and one of the Federations most natural and beautiful planets. At such a perilous location. At present, it was unknown if the wider Tholian Assembly endorsed the Lattice Alliance. Cait was on high alert, with the Caitian Fleet on high alert. The thought of the jungles, the mountains and the seas of Cait being reduced to molten rocks and ash tore at Luxa's heart. She wanted to airlock this Tholian, his brain was the weapon that caused the destruction on GB3. Once, perhaps, she'd have done this. In any other situation, he might have been amused by the Caitian's most obvious concern; while not a stellar cartographer, he had intimate knowledge of the systems they had been exploring that would serve well for their terraforming process. There was a short pause and the captive's eyes flickered briefly, in a way that could only be defined as malevolent. B’ek: You needn't worry - your homeworld has been deemed too dangerous to attempt the process until well after control of the entire region is established. The rest of the quadrant would come eventually, but that would be far down the line. ::pausing:: If you can provide me access to a data unit, I can provide system names and targets planned for immediate testing. There is an extensive list of targets provided the tests are successful, but those would not be attempted for some time yet. Alieth: Note again, we will also need a list of the Alliance's highest ranking officers, affiliates and the location of their headquarters. B’ek: Unfortunately, the Lattice Alliance headquarters remains mobile; rather than being a single installation, it is a modular grouping of multiple crystalline ships. I can provide the names of a few, but not all. They are often on the move, especially with the news of a potential alliance with an offshoot of the Gorn Hegemony. The Gorn? Luxa tried to remain composed yet the shackles on her spine stood on end. Things had just gotten a whole lot worse. He tapped the tips of his fingers together again, a bit less anxious than before. There was something freeing about sharing what was meant to be unknown. B'ek: Supreme Commander F'red is the highest-ranking member of the Lattice Alliance Council. Six members are serving underneath him - High Commanders G'rg, T'rn'r, and Rksirl representing the Tholians, and Commodores B'ahrb, B'hrad, and B'l'n'y representing the Sheliak. There was a slight tremor on the Vulcan's face, a tiny twitch of one of her eyelids as a new threat was named to add to the already considerable menace that was the Laticce Alliance. For a split second, she breathed a hundredth of a second faster than she should have... but she let the defector scientist keep chatting. Alieth: That, at last, is meaningful information. Satisfied, as far as she could be, with the answers, Alieth pulled a small PADD from her sleeve. It was a new model, specially modified by the Ronin engineering team based on the combadges' resistance to extreme temperatures, high pressures and generally unsuitable conditions for technology. She held up the small device for a second in front of the force field that separated her from the prisoner before squeezing the delta pinned to her uniform. Alieth: Transport room four, beam object A-42 to our special invitee's holding cell. A flurry of sparks vanished the PADD from between her fingers, which appeared a moment later between the Tholian scientist's forelegs. As he picked it up, the petite CSO spoke once more. Alieth: Live feed from a camera located in your offspring's ward, with feed from scans of her vitals. She sleeps, as she does most of the time. It was a one-way feed, on a secure line separate from the rest of the ship's systems. B'ek could only observe and read, but any attempt to tamper with the device or access any other information on it would automatically self-destruct. They were not going to take any chances, but she refrained from informing him of this, as the distrust was mutual, and she had no doubt that the smart insectoid would have foreseen such a course of action. B'ek handled the PADD carefully, his hands quite oversized in comparison. He found after some adjustment it would fit in the palm of one hand, and he could use a single sharp-tipped finger to manoeuvre on the screen. Tapping the centre of the screen allowed him to zoom in on the sleeping creature, and he cradled the PADD almost tenderly and traced the tip of his finger over the image of her head. Alieth: In the lower left corner of the screen, you will see that we have provided you with artificial Maleconite crystals, as we informed you in our previous meeting. She is in good condition, as you can see, except for her addiction to the substance, which slows down her development and growth. This time, the petite Vulcan turned to the Caitian, leaving the questioning to her at that point. The lieutenant was, after all, the one who had spent the most time with the creature. From the PADD they could hear that Tetra had begun to sing, in her way, the Caitian lullaby that Luxa had taught her. His colours shifted with surprise at the singing, the lights of his eyes growing wide as his head tipped to the side. Singing was common for Tholian offspring, but not in this manner. He looked to the Caitian as she spoke. Lorana: She grows weaker, her Tholian biology has evolved with the Maleconite and craves it in quantities that we are not able to provide. She is a warrior caste, we believe, and has begun to show signs of her natural instinct. Mostly she … mostly she's confused and tired. She has begun to communicate, in simple terms. Mostly via her colours, and sounds. He zoomed in further to study the structure of her physical form, and he nodded in agreement. B'ek: Warrior, indeed. She must be strong, to have survived this long with this disability. He zoomed back out and studied the artificial Maleconite crystals. B'ek: I would like to see the chemical composition of these crystals. We may be able to make some alterations to wean the cravings and bolster her development. He paused for a moment before looking at Luxa. B'ek: Why 'Tetra'? The petite Vulcan kept a serious face, but when her eyes fell on the Caitian, hidden from the prisoner, they revealed a spark of amusement in them. Alieth: Miss Lorana, would you mind explaining it to the creature's creator? Lorana: Named from the tetradom crystals of her embryo. An accident of her Maleconite DNA :: haughtily :: You wouldn't know that being … less than proficient in the task of creating life. B'ek: ::narrowing his gaze:: What is the phrase oft used by the carbonics called humans? 'Practice makes perfect'? The Tholian flashed again, and the two Starfleet Officers left him with his suffering. The only sound was the haunting siren of Tetra’s lullaby. Luxa was reminded of its lyrics: We sing come little lost cub, come to me, I am your mother, come be free Come little cub, through the trees, I am your mother, come to me Come little lost cub, I am your mother, come be free Somehow the sound was both beautiful and yet simultaneously haunting, and it followed the officers down the corridor towards the exit, and left the Tholian scientist alone, with the music and the image of his creation within his grasp, and yet, at the same time, unreachable. ================================ Lieutenant Commander Alieth Chief Science Officer & 2O USS Ronin USS-34523 E239702A10 & Lieutenant JG Luxa Lorana Science Officer (Astrometrics, Meteorology, Xenobiology) USS Ronin A240004LL2 & Terraforming Specialist V't'r'us B'ek Former Lattice Alliance Territorial Reclaminator as written by Ensign Quentin Beck Medical Officer USS Ronin NCC-34523 A238810SA0
  19. ((Special containment cell, Brig, Deck 11, USS Ronin)) Alieth: Spunau bolayalar t'Wehku bolayalar t'Zamu il t'Veh: The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one. If you do not prove useful to us, I will make you a useful asset. The Tholian scientist remained silent for an achingly long time. He weighed what he knew of them, the stories he'd heard, what he knew of their actions on the planet's surface. He was… not entirely certain he could take this one at face value, though even among the Tholians it was known that Vulcans did not lie. Likewise, he was also certain he could not simply capitulate without ensuring their survival. B'ek: So easily, you threaten to let her die, to dissect her. What assurances do I have should I cooperate? The knowledge I offer is worth more than any one life - in truth, knowing what I know now, it is worth at least several hundred thousand lives. I will not fail again, I assure you. In this thing … what do you call one with no mortality? Surely sapient or individual was too limited a word for such malice. Luxa could see in it, an ego. A hubris that had no limitations. He truly believed that what he had done on GB3 was the work of a god. In his view, he has become a self-appointed deity to an entire world. Regardless, they had lived mere minutes. She stepped forward, her furred features almost touching with the specially adapted containment shielding. Her whiskers bristled against the heat. It was a well established fact, throughout thousands of civilizations, that there was one enemy to false gods. Ciencia. It was time to offend a god. Lorana: I can assure you pitiful, low caste Tholian B’ek. Traitor to your kind. Failed scientist. We will cure Tetra, she'll go on to live a fulfilled, wondrous life as a miracle, an accident of science. A new subspecies of Tholian, born in spite of your errors and vast theoretical flaws. She'll show you and the rest of the Alliance that we, Starfleet, always win. Your name will be nothing but a footnote in history. :: to Alieth :: This fool has nothing to offer us. I suggest we turn him to the Tholian Assembly. Although he would never admit it out loud, she was… not wrong, in many regards. Her attempts to insult him, at least regarding his standing among his people, didn't work, if only because he had never had a choice in the matter until the Lattice Alliance. He stood by that choice, even amid failure. And he was proud to be a traitor to his kind for the very same reason. Considering the abject failure of his experiment, there seemed to be little choice, or else he lost the only surviving youngling from his brood. Still… This one he felt was easier to read than the Vulcan, at least in the way she presented herself. Her form was… different, however, which still confused matters. He stood tall despite her insults, tipping his head upward defiantly. B’ek: Failure is common and even expected when one is performing experiments, especially of this caliber. One that is not resilient in the face of it is a poor scientist, indeed. ::pausing:: So which is it? Kill or kidnap? I do not believe you can do both. Either way, you lose everything regarding the terraforming process. Alieth: No kill or kidnap, doctor, it is merely an "equivalent exchange". If you do not supply us with adequate information, we will look for alternatives, which, in all likelihood, you will not find agreeable. The slender Caitian turned away, allowing the Vulcan room. They shared a glance that felt like a plan, a change of tact. Alieth: Moreover, you know that knowledge about your so-called terraforming process is ancillary. We are seeking intel on the Lattice Alliance. The lights making up his eyes shifted to follow the Caitian's movements, the tips of his fingers clicking together with only mild anxiety before his gaze flicked back to the Vulcan. B’ek: That stands to reason. The point still stands - if I am unsatisfied with your 'alternatives' regarding my offspring, you lose everything. Lorana: :: growls lightly :: Give him to the Tholians. He knows nothing. The Vulcan's eyes turned away from the Tholian scientist, and at last she moved, a few short steps to one side of the narrow passageway and then back again. At the turn, the Commander's eyes lingered on a very specific spot on the wall for half a second longer than necessary. B’ek: I know more than you, Caitian Lorana. ::to Alieth:: Again, I ask. What assurances do I have should I cooperate? Alieth: Things would be different in that case, indeed. We would work on sustaining the life of their progeny, indefinitely, if possible. We would provide you with the means to get to a neutral location, well away from the Federation and the Lattice Alliance. A neutral ground, transportation and supplies. You can disappear forever if you so desire. Lorana: :: locks eyes with the Tholian :: I know what he wants. What little could be seen of his colours grew muted. B'ek: I wish to see my child. Then I will answer your questions. A dangerous gleam appeared in the Vulcan's dark eyes. The glint of a predator that knows it has its prey cornered. Alieth: Doctor B'ek, you are not in a position to make demands. B'ek: That is what I require to cooperate. If you will not allow me to see 'Tetra', as you call her, I will assume she is dead, and I have no reason to answer your questions. The readings you have shared are old by any standard. Alieth looked at Luxa, but said naught. Lorana: That may be what Tholian B’ek requires. He forgets that he does not have the advantage. An exchange is required. That exchange is information. We receive the information and we provide access. B'ek: A scientist is prepared to face failure, but they also seek proof. The CSO gave a small nod and finally turned away from the Tholian. When he looked at her subordinate, there was fire in her eyes. Alieth: All right, if that is your choice. ::Turning to Lorana:: Shall we go, Lieutenant? Lorana: He gives us nothing because he is for nothing. There was a small nod of agreement from the CSO. Alieth: And therefore, nothing will come of it. A few steps towards the door at the end of the corridor took them away from the prisoner, plain their intention to left him isolated for an undetermined number of days, once more. Behind them, B'ek fumed, his colours growing ever more muted. B’ek: ::indecipherable clicking noises:: Very well. I will provide limited information on the Lattice Alliance for our first exchange. Luxa and Alieth looked at each other, both aware that they had won that small but important breakthrough. It was the first time they got him to consent to something they asked for, the first hint that they could get ANYTHING from him. ================================ Lieutenant Commander Alieth Chief Science Officer & 2O USS Ronin USS-34523 E239702A10 & Lieutenant JG Luxa Lorana Science Officer (Astrometrics, Meteorology, Xenobiology) USS Ronin A240004LL2 & Terraforming Specialist V't'r'us B'ek Former Lattice Alliance Territorial Reclaminator as written by Ensign Quentin Beck Medical Officer USS Ronin NCC-34523 A238810SA0
  20. When you have absolute stellar writers and they drop a 4 part bombshell. You have to show the love. @Karrod Niac @Alieth @LuxaLorana @Quentin Beck ((Special containment cell, Brig, Deck 11, USS Ronin)) The evening was a good time for her work. There were hardly any people in the corridors, nor in the security complex, the officers and NCOs mostly asleep or off duty. And those that remained were silent, the scuff of feet and boots on the grey carpet as loud as the breaths of the two officers, the only moving shapes in a slumbering world. The skeleton crew left on watch in the brig paid little attention to the scientists as they walked across their territory. Mainly because Chief Carpenter had given them clearance. But mostly because it wasn't the first time she had given them access. Alieth glanced at her subordinate as the doors to the maximum security wing stood waiting for their delayed opening cycle. Alieth: Do you have the questions ready? Luxa resisted the urge to sigh. B'ek had not proven to be useful to them at all. He'd danced around the science, in some attempt to grapple control of this failed experiment. She suspected that this was because he knew as much as they knew about the Maleconite’s unique abilities and how it had impacted on the terraforming process on GB3. Which was very little. Lorana: :: nods :: Do you think he'll be any more helpful this time? The petite Vulcan nodded curtly, an unruly lock of hair escaping from her tight ponytail. Alieth: I expect so, he has sat with the last information about Tetra development… : she made a pregnant pause.:: … he seemed unhappy about it. Lorana: He may be unhappy. ::The sidelong glance of the shorter woman made her stop for a second:: What? We don't know. He's not to be trusted. He betrayed his own kind. Luxa, again, resisted the urge to sigh. Her tail twitched several times, before it looped and sunk down as she tried to contain it. It was forever betraying her true feelings. Captain Niac believed that the scientist Tholian may be more forthcoming with fellow scientists. They didn't believe he could provide any real scientific answers to their questions on the Maleconite or Tetra's condition. They hoped he'd provide much needed intel on the LA. She shared in the captain's frustrations. Always having to respond to an unknown crisis left the fur on edge. They needed to gain the upper hand. Luxa couldn't stop her mind from wondering … where was Starfleet? This situation was escalating at an alarming rate, yet no other ships had been assigned to the region. The Ronin and the Arrow, as well as DS33 were the only line of defence against the Lattice Alliance, which they didn't fully understand yet. Yet, despite all of this she had a nagging worry that this Tholian, wanted further access to Tetra. There were too many reasons for her to count as to why this was a bad idea. However, Tetra, the infant, was the only bargaining chip they had. Why else would they allow her to remain on the ship? B'ek do anything to claim his prize. His scientific ego wouldn't allow him to pass on the opportunity to study her up close. His creation, the potential of a whole new subspecies of Tholian. He didn't see her as a victim to his ego. He saw Tetra as proof of concept. Not unlike Kipal, and the USS Kolo. Alieth: humm… The sound sounded almost like an admonishment, the slanted eyebrows drawing further shadows into the dark eyes. Yet the two had worked together enough to know it was a tacit agreement. One that simply should not be said aloud. Just then, the doors opened before them, a loud hiss and a puff of exhaust fumes marking the opening, as a red light flashed above their heads. The area had been modified for this particular inmate. The temperature, even outside the cell, was oppressively hot and absolutely arid. Given the night cycle, there was hardly any light, only the reddish ceiling beams, and a faint orange glow that seemed to come from nowhere in particular. Luxa felt the heat like an assault. The nearer she got to the cell, the more intense the heat. Her skin beneath the fur recoiled, and she felt the hairs along her spine stand on their edges. Her whiskers pulled back and she stopped. She looked at Alieth, this had become a ritual of sorts. The Caitian twisted her mane around her paw and gathered it on top of her head, to allow more ventilation. With a nod, they moved on. At the end of a short corridor laid the cell. It was larger than the high-energy containment field in lab 4, and had some extras that the lab lacked. A bed, for example, that had never been used. A desk and a chair. A small waste disposal shaft that had required a really awkward explanation and possibly given the Tholian scientist too much information about carbon-based beings. Little else. The Tholian was… sleeping. Sort of. His body didn't consume energy in the same way Alieth or Luxa's bodies might, but especially in this sort of environment, he still needed a chance to rest and recharge, so to speak. While they had done a fine job fulfilling most of his environmental needs, he still required an EV suit to interact with them or any of the tools they could provide. The suit he'd been wearing originally had been damaged too severely to function indefinitely. Thankfully, the Medical and Engineering departments had been able to cobble together a suitable replacement, one that seemed to put the Starfleeters more at ease because the glow of his abdomen and thorax was no longer visible at all times. It looked almost like one of their standard uniforms, jet black in colour, with the Starfleet delta emblazoned on what would be his right breast pocket, if he'd had either. Only the glowing eyes betrayed his nature. Luxa hated that those eyes were the same as Tetra. Their arrival was enough to wake him. He stirred briefly, the pointed tips of his feet tapping against the deck plating, and the colours and lights in his head grew much brighter and more solid as they approached. He didn't raise his abdomen from his prone position yet, but he observed their arrival with a curious look. Alieth: Good Evening, Doctor B’ek. The petite Vulcan stopped just inches from the glowing force field that isolated the defector, bright orange hexagons rippling across its surface almost as if it were a pond. She folded her arms behind her back, firm and stiff, in that posture so typical of her people. B’ek: Vulcan Alieth. Has it been three cycles? I find it impossible to keep track of time in this ship… The diminutive humanoid gave a silent nod, a small twitch between her slanted eyebrows. Alieth: Miss Lorana and I have come to ask you a few questions, if you would like to answer us this time. She made a deferential gesture towards her companion, before resuming her statuesque posture. Lorana: I trust you have reviewed the data on :: She locked fierce amber eyes on the Tholian:: your progeny, as you call her? :: angered :: I hope that you've reconsidered your position. It would make sense for you to help us. We want the same outcomes. As the Caitian spoke, B'ek stretched out his arms and legs before lifting his abdomen from the deck. With arms and legs fully expanded, he took up over half of the room behind the forcefield, and it was… uncomfortable to get around. Even to turn much. So he just stood there, half listening, until she finished. Then he shook his head. B’ek: That is decidedly incorrect, Caitian Lorana. I want the freedom to leave this cell and take, yes indeed, my progeny, to a safe, new home. ::pausing:: However, I have, indeed, reviewed your data and I applaud you for getting this far. I am not fully convinced you can make any good use of it. The Commander stifled the curl that threatened to take hold at the corner of her mouth. Alieth: Your kind does not monopolize industriousness. He chittered and drew his limbs closer to his body so he could turn to approach his computer. B'ek: You wish to develop a workaround for the reliance on Maleconite. Would you find it acceptable to require a different source of nutrition, assuming one could be developed? Alieth: It is an option, but we will not pursue it. We will keep your progeny alive, and nothing else, until we get answers to our questions. The Caitian held her position, as still as a rock. The Tholian had no need to know what she really thought about this tactic. Luxa wanted to pursue all avenues. She had spent hours with Tetra. She'd communicate on a basic level with them, seemingly adapting knowledge from the surrounding environment. Luxa had told her about the galaxy around her, where they are, who she is and her species home planet. She also told her about the Federation, and Starfleet. What it means to be a part of that family. This monster in front of her couldn't conceive of family. He saw an experiment that could be salvaged. Just like any egotistical scientist, he was unwilling to share what he knew. The lights that made up his eyes drew to narrow slits as he studied the duo, and not for the first time was he annoyed at their lack of illumination. It was so difficult to read carbonic expression and body language, he had very little frame of reference. Still, considering what he'd heard of Starfleet in the past, he believed they were fully capable of killing his youngling without a moment's hesitation. B'ek: I grow tired of this conversation, Vulcan Alieth. I have told you what is required to provide you any answers. The petite Vulcan took a small step. So close to the energy screen that a few strands of hair frizzed, electrically charged. Alieth: If your response is deficient or absent, I will let your "progeny" die. A natural death, of course, without the substance to which you have made her reliant. Dissecting her will make an impressive research paper. You will go next. She didn't blink during her speech, her voice flat, her face hieratic. The only thing animated on her face was a dangerous, determined spark in her eyes. The heat of the room seemed to rise a notch or two, Luxa felt her body shift to regulate her temperature more effectively. Subtle changes in the configuration of her fur, and a slight variance in her breathing, that made her breaths quicken, increased the absorption of oxygen. She refused to admit that these changes were brought on by the heightened anxiety she felt at the prospect of Tetra's demise. It simply, for Luxa, was not an option. [[TBC]] ================================ Lieutenant Commander Alieth Chief Science Officer & 2O USS Ronin USS-34523 E239702A10 & Lieutenant JG Luxa Lorana Science Officer (Astrometrics, Meteorology, Xenobiology) USS Ronin A240004LL2 & Terraforming Specialist V't'r'us B'ek Former Lattice Alliance Territorial Reclaminator as written by Ensign Quentin Beck Medical Officer USS Ronin NCC-34523 A238810SA0
  21. Despite having the wiki to prove it, to newer Simmers such as me, it can be quite difficult to imagine just how long a history the fleet has, not to mention some of the wonderful writers that I now tell stories with on the USS Artemis. Similarly - like many Ensigns and Lieutenants on the installations we know and love from the Trek stories - the concept of a time where our Captains weren't the awe-inspiring and strong-willed people they are today is equally alien. @Addison MacKenzie's latest Sim definitely encapsulates that feeling of a storied background, both of an experienced writer who's dedicated YEARS of his life to writing amazing stories on various vessels, AND of a Captain who's seen so much, and is now trying her best to steer her crew through the many horrors their writers can come up with. An excellent Sim - as always - Captain, and thank you for the close-to-1-year of service you and your staff has shepherded me through 🫡 Couldn't have wished for a better starting vessel!
  22. @Quentin Beck & @T'Ama just don't kiss already Jokes aside, this JP is delicate and vulnerable, I really enjoyed this, it's always a pleasure to give a glimpse into characters' pasts, old relationships and friendships between ships, well done guys! ((Outside Guest Quarters, Room 2001, Deck 4, USS Ronin)) He just kind of… stood there for a while, staring at the reprogrammable panel next to the door that displayed T'Ama's name and listed her as a special guest on the Ronin. Their whole interaction on the planet's surface had been… well, interesting wasn't quite the right word. It had stirred up a lot of old memories, old feelings he hadn't exactly forgotten about but had certainly put aside until she had unexpectedly come back into his life again. That wasn't a bad thing, per se, but the last time they had talked had ended rather poorly. That had been his fault, not hers, though up until recently he had convinced himself it was the other way around. His time on the Ronin had taught him a few things about alien cultures, not the least of which being he had a lot of trouble separating them from human traditions. That often left him confused when they didn't respond in a way he'd expected, or when they seemed entirely too puzzled by what he'd chosen to do or say. Quentin didn't like that he'd been so mad at T'Ama when she'd left before. He'd had a lot of time to think about it by now. Steeling himself, he reached up to tap the chime next to her door. T'Ama: Enter. The door cycled open after a moment and he still just kind of… stood there, for another long moment. Then he cleared his throat and took a single step into the guest room, clutching an item to his chest. He was dressed in a fresh, clean uniform - quite a bit different from the sheets of fabric he'd been wearing on the planet. She was sat reading on the couch, which was oriented towards the large viewport showing a field of darkness and stars. The guest room was way nicer than the windowless quarters she shared with her roommate on Deck 19 of the Conny. After a moment she realized no one had actually come in and she looked up from her PADD to the door to see… him. Oh… She stared as he stepped inside. Beck: Hi. I just wanted to, uhm… Thank you. For all of your help down on the surface. She looked down and away, embarrassed. He’d still been mad with her and rightfully so and now it was horribly, painfully awkward. Not at all like how it used to be. T'Ama: Yeah, well… ::she inhaled:: … What did you bring? Beck: Huh? Oh. He fidgeted for a moment before shaking the package in his hand, the contents shifting around inside. Beck: I brought these for you. Quentin handed the box over. She would find the box full of chocolate-covered potato chips - a treat he'd introduced her to at the Academy to which she'd taken a particular shine. He'd had no idea at the time how chocolate affected Vulcans, he'd just wanted to share a snack he enjoyed with a good friend. She took the box and opened it in her lap and she gave him a lopsided half smile at her favorite Earth treat. She’d gotten drunk off her ass on them the first time, they were so good. The perfect combination of sweet and salty that made you want to keep eating them. They were difficult to find on replication menus. T'Ama: Thanks. She sat and stared up at him, box clutched on her lap, the tense moment stretching out between them forever. She desperately wanted to turn on that El-Aurian thing that made people want to talk to you so he could say something, anything, easier but apparently he had always hated when she’d done that. At the thought her face fell and she looked back down at the box of chocolate in her lap, one finger worrying the corner of it. His brow creased as the silence stretched between them for longer than it should have, and he watched the play of emotions running across her features before she'd dropped her gaze to the box. The chips were symbolic of what he wanted to say… or at least, that's what he'd intended. An olive branch. But then, their whole friendship had nearly imploded because of a misunderstanding on his part, so he figured a symbol probably wasn't enough. Beck: I owe you an apology. T'Ama: ::surprised:: For what? Quentin chuckled lamely, looking down at his feet before digging a toe into the carpeting on the deck plate. Beck: For a lot of things, but… mostly for overreacting when you left. I've learned a lot on this posting, mostly that I have a habit of humanizing everyone rather than taking the time to learn about their cultures and how they respond to things. I thought it was good to see everyone equally, but it sort of blinded me to the realities of how different we can be. She blinked at him, confused about what he was apologizing about. His reaction to what she'd done seemed perfectly valid to her - who wouldn't be upset? And all this about him humanizing everyone and being clueless about their culture was irrelevant. She liked that about him. He never treated her like a Vulcan. She could see why it would get him in trouble with others but she had found it so refreshing to just be herself. She gestured to the couch. T'Ama: ::quietly:: Sit. We should talk. He fidgeted again for a moment before nodding and crossing to sit on the other end of the couch, with some space between them. She twisted to sit sideways and face him. Beck: The whole touch telepathy thing is weird for me to think about because I'm so limited in that regard. I imagine if humans had it, too, we wouldn't be quite so touchy-feely about anything. Wouldn't shake hands, wouldn't do… all the things we normally do with someone we care about. Like hugs. Or… more. T'Ama: ::dryly:: Like kissing on a first date? Beck: ::sotto voce:: Like kissing a Vulcan on a first date. He hadn't figured it out until after seeing her again, despite the fact he'd been doing a lot of reading about Vulcans after his initial encounter with Is'Kah after the mission. Physical intimacy was fully scandalous, even in private, and to actually kiss was basically the same as dropping down on one knee and proposing marriage. Sort of. She closed her eyes to gather her thoughts and sighed, then realized she never had explained what happened, though he had in a weird way deduced it. T’Ama: Look. That was my fault. I should have kept myself shielded especially considering what we were doing. But you caught me by surprise… ::she smiled sadly:: And I got a full hit of your mind and all your… expectations. And I just… I couldn't live up to that. I can't be all that for you. She had broken the kiss by pushing him away, muttering something like “I can't” as the only explanation, and then running away. And avoiding him every time he tried to talk to her until she graduated and was posted to the Constitution. Oh he had every right to be mad. Quentin had been… wrapped up in the future he could see with T'Ama, but then he'd always had pipe dreams that looked far, far into the future, and they were all unrealistic. Normally he wouldn't have been so obsessive over a relationship like that, mostly because he didn't quite understand them, but his friendship with T'Ama had been instant and had felt deeper than any other friendship he'd had up to then. Beck: ::brow creasing:: It was a lot, I know. I only had one or two close friends growing up, and you know I was an only child, so… I kinda couldn't help the mental spiral into some imaginary future. I'm sorry I expected too much so soon. T’Ama: ::in a small, weepy voice:: I'm sorry I avoided you. I shouldn't have handled it that way. I should have just talked to you. She sniffed and wiped her eyes where a couple of tears had rolled down her cheeks. She had curled completely up into a ball and hugged her knees. He let out a heavy breath, leaning forward to prop his forearms on his knees and lace his fingers together. Beck: I should've tried harder to talk to you, too. Shouldn't have given up so quickly, but I was still smarting at the time. After you graduated and I didn't hear anything, I figured that was it. T'Ama: ::shaking her head slightly:: No, I was avoiding you. You have a right to be mad about that and about being rejected. Quentin looked down at his feet, pursing his lips. Beck: I'm not mad anymore. Well, not about that. Now I'm just mad we lost all that time to a stupid misunderstanding. ::shaking his head:: That's why I'm working on better communication skills. That includes educating myself when dealing with folks that aren't human. She frowned at that, her brow furrowing. T'Ama: Quentin, I like that you never treated me like a Vulcan. Don't go starting to now. Beck: ::smiling slightly:: No, I get it now. I think maybe I would have then, too, if you'd explained it? His gaze lifted to peer out at the stars. Beck: I'm sorry for coming at you so hot at the club, too. I think I was trying to blame the El-Aurian thing for… everything. She shifted her gaze from him to the tops of her knees, curling inward to protect something vulnerable. She was proud of that half of her heritage, and she couldn't bear to hate all of herself. T'Ama: ::softly:: Yeah, that hurt. Did you actually hate it the whole time? She thought he had been into it at the time. She never would have used it like that if he hadn't been. Quentin shook his head. Beck: No. I never did. I said it because subconsciously I knew it would hurt, and that was a dick move, so I'm sorry. I definitely didn't mean it. She stretched her legs out across the length of the couch and they were just long enough for her to press her toes into his leg. Her own symbolic olive branch. T’Ama: So… just friends? No romance? He sighed and chuckled, tipping his head once in a nod as he leaned back against the couch. Beck: No romance. I'm involved with someone right now, anyhow. You and I were always better off as friends, anyway. I'm sorry I complicated things. T'Ama: ::smiling slightly:: I'm glad you're moving on. Is’Kah could not wait to tell me you were dating someone. Beck: ::rolling his eyes:: Oh, I'm sure she couldn't. Queen of the rumor mill, that one. T’Ama: Though what is up with her lately? She kept making weird pointed comments about you like she was jealous. Beck: ::scrunching up his face:: I maybe sort of kind of accidentally went on a date with her. If she had been drinking anything she would have done a spit take. T’Ama: You went on a date with Is’Kah?! Beck: ::sighing and rubbing his face with both hands:: Okay, but I thought she was joking when she first called it a date. Like we finished her medical exam and she asked if I wanted to join her for drinks and she said she would 'only find it logical' blah blah blah and she didn't call it a date until after I agreed. T’Ama: ::swearing in El-Aurian:: She didn't tell me THAT part. That explains a lot. Beck: ::sighing again:: I thought she was joking because of the way she said it but I forgot that Vulcany Vulcans are always so damn literal. So we went down to the Lounge and ate and it wasn't until we were done that she took my hand and said, uh… crap, how did she put it… 'I believe the next step in human courtship rituals is for you to offer me a nightcap in your quarters in a thinly veiled attempt to get me to remove my uniform'. Her eyes went wide and she clamped her hands over her mouth and kicked him from across the couch in excitement. T'Ama: Sweet Surak, noooooo! Did you die on the spot? Quentin winced and rubbed at the spot she kicked, making a face. Beck: I about choked on my beer, that's what. Her eyes twinkled with amusement. T'Ama: What did you do? What did you say?? Beck: I tried to let her down gently, but that went about as well as expected. I don't know if she's holding a grudge or anything, if she's even capable of that, but it was way embarrassing. She snickered from behind her hands, eyes shining. She forced her hands into her lap trying to contain her grin and mostly failing. T'Ama: If she's anything like my mother - and she is - she can hold a grudge. She'll tell you she isn't but she is. The mention of her mother sobered her up some and she repositioned herself on the couch to sit in the middle next to him. Feet up on the coffee table, she considered the stars as the moment grew heavy and then passed when he changed the topic. Beck: ::leaning his head back and staring down his nose out the viewport:: You like it on the Conny? T'Ama: Yeah. Jalana is very casual, it suits me. Plus luxury liner and all. It's like being back on the Louisville. How do you like the Ronny? Beck: Oh, I love it here. This place is nuts. She raised an eyebrow and smirked like no kidding. T'Ama: ::dryly:: Yeah, I noticed that. Barring her very first day on the Conny, these last few days on the Ronin had been nonstop insanity. It was quite the contrast. T’Ama: How is Alice? Did you get to bring her with you? Beck: ::smiling warmly:: Oh yeah, she's here, too. She's adapted remarkably well to living on a ship. Though… hell, I still don't know where she came from originally, she could've been brought to Earth by a transport from the Martian colony for all I know. She's happy, though, at least I think. T'Ama: She's a cat, she's probably from Earth. Though it's unusual to find a purebred randomly outside. Beck: You should come say hello at some point. I'm sure she'd love to see you. T'Ama: What, like now? Beck: Just sometime before you leave. You could meet her in the Medical Lab if you want, she comes there a lot to spend the day with me if I'm too busy to go back to my quarters. T'Ama: ::smirking:: It's a date then. He made a choking sound at the back of his throat. Then scowled and crossed his arms, scrunching up his shoulders. Beck: Oh, go to Hell. I lied, she doesn't miss you at all. She threw her head back and cackled immensely at his reaction. T’Ama: Ahhh, I have missed this. Beck: ::scowling deeper:: I didn't miss you, either. Or this. T'Ama: ::smugly:: Yeah ya did. He pushed out his lower lip, screwing up his face a little more… then sighed, his shoulders slumping, and he raised an arm to hook over her shoulders, letting his head tip back against the back cushion again. Beck: You're so damned annoying. T'Ama: ::snickering:: You love it. He gave her a firm sideways hug before detangling himself and letting his hands drop into his lap, kicking his feet up on the table next to hers. Beck: Heh. This kinda reminds me, we sat like this after uh… oh hell, who was it that taught that Operations and Command Functions course we took together? T'Ama: Professor Vinku? The Denobulan guy? Beck: Yeah, Vinku! That one class where we had to give the thirty-minute presentation and he stopped us halfway through because he didn't like our take on the responsibilities of an Operations officer - he just wanted us to repeat what he'd told us in class without any changes whatsoever. Still gave us a passing grade on that project, but just barely, and we took the shuttle up to the orbital station and sat in one of the viewports all night, grousing over a bottle of Bolian ale. T'Ama: Yeah and we cooked up ways to prank him so his face would puff up! ::she laughed:: Beck: That was… a good night. Not sure I've had one quite like it since. T'Ama: Well… Turns out this guest room comes with a stocked mini bar. She popped up from the couch and bent over to look into a lower cabinet, giving him a rather nice view. His eyes widened and his gaze flicked away, cheeks coloring slightly as he studied instead one of the seams in between panels in the ceiling. Thankfully the color drained before she stood again. When she straightened up she had several small bottles in hand and offered him the assortment after she plopped back down beside him. T’Ama: No Bolian ale but there's, uh, all this stuff. ::turning a bottle to read the label:: Trill kahlua. Beck: ::taking the bottle to look it over:: Wonder if Cap bought way too much of this and just shoved it in the VIP quarters to get rid of it. Heh. T'Ama: Probably. Shaking his head, he looked it over for a moment before twisting off the cap and raising it to take a sip. It wasn't too different from the old kahlua recipe he'd had on Earth - pretty sweet, tasted like coffee, but not quite like any coffee he'd ever tasted before. He smacked his lips before taking another sip, then held it out to her. Beck: It's a little much. T'Ama: Is it? She took the bottle from him and took a sip herself, cocking her head thoughtfully as she considered it before downing the rest of it. It was only a little bottle. T’Ama: It was alright. Try another one. She laid out the other little bottles across their laps for him to choose from. Beck: ::wrinkling his nose:: Lessee… this one is… ugh. The small bottle was about half the size of the Trill kahlua and held a green liquid. Beck: It's just called 'Green'. I've heard of this one. Shaking his head, he twisted off the cap and took a tiny sip. His face screwed up and he smacked his lips a few times before taking another sip, then handed her the rest. Beck: Oh yeah, that is green, all right. She took the bottle and downed the rest of it. T'Ama: ::surprised:: That does taste exactly how I'd expect green to taste. He plucked up another little bottle, Aldebarian Amaretto, and opened it to sniff it. Beck: Oooo, this one smells nutty. She leaned over to sniff it too. T'Ama: I can barely smell anything with the nasal inhibitors. I bet that actually stinks a lot. Beck: I probably shouldn't have too many of these, I'm supposed to take a duty shift in Sickbay this evening… T'Ama: Well, good thing you're a doctor then and have free access to the hyposprays. Just give yourself a sober up one. Beck: ::lop-sided smile:: I mean, that's what I was gonna do but those things give me headaches if I had too much to drink and I don't like doing a painkiller at the same time. She grabbed her box of chocolate covered potato chips he gave her and selected a large chip to offer him before selecting a small chip for herself. She always liked to eat them smallest to largest. T’Ama: Have something to eat with them then. Beck: ::shaking his head and taking the chip:: Clever girl. Or maybe it's clever me, since I brought those for you. She smiled and they clicked their chips together as if to toast. —- Ensign Quentin Beck Medical Officer USS Ronin NCC-34523 A238810SA0 & Lieutenant JG T’Ama Operations Officer USS Constitution-B C240004T11
  23. Did someone on Denali Station say something funny? Gut wrenching? Thought provoking? Feel free to post those things here. I'll start. --- Absolutely classic @TLea being secretly excited about the prospect of something blowing up. It's good every time. 😉
  24. I always appreciate it when we respect the fact that life doesn't have a reset button after the mission. So here is @Talia Ohnari dealing with the after effects of getting hit by a sleeping dart in a wonderfully comedic way. But she's also struggling quite seriously with how some portions of the mission went for her. Loved all of this. Also looking forward to seeing how our somewhat taciturn paramedic responds!
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