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@TLea and @John Kendrick wrote such a bittersweet, beautiful JP between these two, and it's just so lovely. I love the spicy, but surprisingly heartfelt relationship they have going on can't wait to see where that goes in the end. This is both parts 1 and two together for proper reading delight.

Really digging the vibe of the opening, and picking up on the passage (and the theme!) of time. Well done @Bryce Tagren-Quinn, fantastic writing! -- ((Unknown Location, Rogue Planet)) Tickticktickticktickticktickticktick. The sound of a wristwatch marched on, dinging off the rock walls of the damp converted caverns. With the acoustics in such a place, it was almost like music. Music, that made her think back to happier times. Easier times. Less conflicted times. Less tumultuous, less fighting. Her dark eyes watched the heartbeat of the second hand ticking away in a sort of visible jolted fashion on the watchface, her thoughts consumed by the memories of the wrist it once adorned. Her father’s. Shaking her head at the thought, she pushed down the gray-green sleeve of the ill-fitted jacket she wore, covering the watch, and blew out a breath. He often spoke about the past, of a world she never knew. A world he promised to show her, but died before even having gotten the chance. His final words were that of apologies, garbled as they were, a hand covered in blood reaching, trembling into her long dark, curly tresses as he laid on his back on the surface of this world. Her hair, wild and long and blowing in the wind, catching some of the blood. He said he was sorry he could never take her back. His eyes, once bright and blue, slipping into the depth of darkness by the second. But, it didn’t matter. It was a world she never experienced, never knew. His final words were focused on pieces that mattered to him and he failed to see how his passing ripped her apart in different ways. Her hand had found its way to his wrist, guiding his hand onto her cheek, thumb smearing red, as he shuddered out his final breaths. The past would not repeat itself. Voices traveled down the corridor. Lights positioned along the walls cast obscure shadows across various formations, some of which were used as a means to provide storage for some of the equipment… and others, places to lock potential threats. Pulling the courage from within, the tall form moved around a bended corner, catching sight of some of the elders, causing her steps to slow. She studied them, crossing her arms, her face slowly shifting from curiosity to anger. Lips, normally full but chapped, set in a firm line. After a moment or two of considering her moves, she charged forward, her wild hair flowing in thick curls behind her. A door opening, a scuffle… voices… Her feet carried her faster until she was there… with the interlopers, sealing the door behind her. Courage found in the plasma rifle slung across her body, heart beating wildly against the strap. The strange blue creature had… zh’Tisav: Human?! A pause, and rage coursed through her… zh’Tisav: Cardassian?! It was at this moment, she raised her hand and thumped down HARD onto the blue one’s head, disorientating the creature, and allowing it to loosen its hold on one of the elder’s throats. How… infuriating and dull could the elders be?! The human woman coughed a few times in pain before holding up a pleading hand. Rosenblatt: ::Raspy:: Please, this is all a big misunderstanding! They’re just kids! Ghaamar: They didn’t know what they were doing. Never even seen a runabout... O’ Marshall/ Fortune: response Kelley: I would hardly call myself a child! And a runabout? ::she laughed sardonically:: That’s not entirely true and you know it! She planted her hands on her hips, throwing back her head. O’Marshall/Fortune/Rosenblatt/Ghaamer: Response Seething, she spun around at the group – a human male, a blue creature she thought now was called an Andorra, and a dark-eyed female – in strange uniforms. Uniforms with similar symbols to her father’s but that carried deception and pain before. This was HER home and she would be damned if she’d allow ANYONE to rip everything she knew away from her. Kelley: I wouldn’t listen to them. We know why you’re here. O’Marshall/Fortune/Rosenblatt/Ghaamer: Response Kelley: Time and time again we’ve heard those same stories and every single time… someone dies. Her face twisted, her hand touching smoothed down faint features along her forehead. O’Marshall/Fortune/Rosenblatt/Ghaamer: Response – Ark’Va Kelley ??? Rogue Planet As simmed by: Ensign Bryce Tagren-Quinn, M.D. Medical Officer USS Gorkon (NCC-82293) T238909AT0

I admit I started reading this as one thing, then it took a surprising turn and was something else. I love it @Arys

OOC: I found Vargas' snarky narration rather amusing here. IC: ((Bridge, USS Glenn)) Catherine was fascinated by the modified Galaxy class vessel. What some might consider extravagance was creativity in her eyes - then again she specialized in holograms, the very essence of extravagance for some people. There were even ships that used holographic chairs instead of normal chairs. Things were going well, and no one seemed to mind the human-looking hybrid being relatively quiet until an Andorian's voice called for the group's attention. th'Zaahlis: Cap, we're getting a message from 118. It seems there's a distress call from a civilian freighter that was en route to 118 and they're asking us to check it out since we're not docked. Monroe: Must not be too dangerous since they know we have a skeleton crew aboard. Cat didn't understand the reason behind sending the Glenn to investigate - the Starbase seemed to have a bunch of ships available - and Captain Monroe made a good point. There was barely anyone on board. Diata: Some of us are Starfleet Officers. Oh right. They were on board. Diata: We are willing to assist. Renot: More than willing. Throw me at anything Engineering. Vargas: Also an Engineer. ::pause:: but please don't throw me. th'Zaahlis: Last message said they were under attack by pirates, Cap. Pirates? And that so close to One-Eighteen? That was odd. Monroe: Very well, let's get to it then. Red alert! The lights dimmed and everything was bathed in red light, and Catherine felt adrenaline rushing through her veins. This was exciting. And terrifying. Monroe: I need some volunteers. ::pointing to Renot:: Can you man the Engineering console? ::pointing towards the back of the bridge:: We're going to need the warp core up to full speed. Renot: Absolutely, yes Captain. The Al-Leyan moved behind the console, taking a moment to familiarize himself with it, before he nodded an affirmation. Monroe: ::pointing to Diata:: Can you take the Helm? Diata: Ready to move out, Captain. Monroe: Good, since we don't know what kind of ship it is, we may need to move quick in there...as quick as a ship this size can anyways. Diata: Aye captain. Monroe: ::to Vargas:: And you, young lady, you mentioned holograms, but can you run a science station? Cat blinked, hesitated, and then remembered that she was also a scientist. She could run a science station! It was easy, barely an inconvenience, and she totally remembered how to do that. What could possibly have changed in the past... seven years.. since she graduated from Academy. Vargas: Yes, Captain. The Captain glanced around, searching for the two that wandered off. Monroe: Where the hell...? The doors opened and the two lost humans quickly returned. Cat couldn't help but notice the woman's jacket zipper, and she could make a fairly educated guess as to what they had been doing/ Gross. Monroe: ::making a zipper motion up the front of her jacket while staring at Aine:: You, tactical, now. ::to Martinson:: And you, you're number one for now. Sherlock: Yes, ma'am. Martinson: Sure thing, Cap. The two seemed to spring into action, dispersing the awkwardness around them. Monroe: Helm, set an intercept course. ::taking the center chair:: Engage. Diata: Acknowledged. Course set, moving out. Renot: Diverting power from impulse to warp. Powering up. Sherlock: response They left the Starbase, and Catherine had to admit that she had never really been on the bridge before - not in this capacity anyway. She was usually hidden away somewhere, and right now she was glad that she could busy herself with the console in front of her. Diata: We are ready to go to warp, Captain. Renot: Warp core at full power, Commander. Vargas: Up and running from my end. Sherlock: response Diata nodded and worked the controls with ease and grace, coaxing the ship into warp, and a moment later the stars turn into streaks. Exactly ten minutes and thirty-six seconds later, they dripped out of warp and came in visual range of the Spacefarer's Delight, a large vessel that had sustained significant damage, caused by a smaller ship of Orion origin. The exterior design was hawk-like in appearance, incorporating swept wings positioned at the aft of the vessel, with a beak-like forward section. Diata: Captain, the distress signal is from the Spacefarer's Delight and has sustained heavy damage. Structural integrity is compromised. Renot: ::softly:: Takes a special kind of stupid to attack another this close to a Starfleet base. ::louder:: On standby to divert power to weapons and shields as needed. Egil looked over, hands poised above the console. He was alert and ready to react quickly. Vargas: The ship best matches an Interceptor, I am running scans to see if they have friends, so far, nothing. It was clear how uncomfortable she was with the situation, but she did not want to be useless when everyone else was being a hero. Sherlock/Diata: ? TAG/TBC _____________ Lt. Catherine (Cat) Vargas Holo-Engineer / Photonic Applications Starbase 118 Ops J239809TA4

@Quinn Reynolds - a fun, beautifully written sim wrapped in mystery and hidden meanings, and an abundance of glorious, lovely detail. Loved it! ((Island Town, Rogue World)) A storm was coming. Dark cyan clouds churned overhead, the taste of rain misted the air, and the wind whistled through carmine leaves. The forest’s susurrus washed over the town, and it was as the trees felt the same sense of unease as its people, whispering their foreboding to any who would listen. They gathered in the centre, around the Great Tree which held the soul of the town, its boughs swollen with plump, indigo fruits. Sheltered underneath, they spoke urgently with one another, in a tongue learned less than a turn ago. The astute might notice that the proportions of the surrounding buildings were very generous for the people who lived inside them. A propensity toward grand architecture, perhaps. A balcony overlooked the town centre. A figure stood watch upon it, a citrine gaze fixed on the distant location where the alien shuttle had landed. The sheer drapes which separated balcony from interior parted, shifting and shimmering like sunlight on frost. Another figure joined the first; pale lavender hair spilled over shoulders like silk, eyes as red as the rubies birthed in the planet’s crust. She—in as much as her body appeared feminine—looked in the same direction as the other, and a frown creased a smooth brow. Kjara: Do these ones also come to make war? Janoch: I do not know. ::He—insofar as this form assumed masculine traits—shook his head.:: Perhaps they think we make war on them. Our existence threatens theirs. Kjara: Perhaps these bodies will stay their hostility. The familiar is less frightening. ::She paused, her voice uncertain.:: But the trees sing of the weapons they carry. He nodded, slowly. The same warnings had reached his ears—so to speak—and the same disquiet threaded through his blood. The Lost Ones sometimes cried out in their invisible voices, pleading for the life left behind to hear them. They marked time strangely, in orbits of a star and rotations of a world many of them had never seen. Twenty-five of their markings they mourned, raging and weeping about the time stolen from them. It was a sad state of affairs. But sympathy for the Lost Ones varied like the amber tides. Some wished to help them home, feeling their pain as if it were their own. Others thought they had brought their misfortune upon themselves, motivated by greed and hatred, invading lands not their own to carve scars upon the world. But it didn’t matter. Whatever their wishes, the Wandering could not be denied. Janoch: Yes. They hide their ship and bear weapons. But they also bring devices of sensing and science. As we practise caution, perhaps so do they. ::He paused.:: Do we have any news from the Artificers? Kjara: They continue to labour. ::She paused.:: I have hope. They have never failed us before. Janoch: Then we shall let them labour without disturbance. ::He turned, stopping halfway to catch Kjara’s gaze.:: Let us greet these new invaders. Kjara: Very well. But if their intentions are ill, we shall deal with them as we always have. Our home is not their trophy. Janoch: We will walk the path. He nodded. Others had come before, as she had spoken. Gone now, doomed by their avarice and arrogance. Cleanly done. Kindly done. The Guardians saw to that. And the Guardians would see to those who approached, if they divined their presence or intentions a threat. He hoped it would not come to that, but resigned himself to the possibility it might. It was time to find out. -- Janoch and Kjara ?Townsfolk? The Rogue World simmed by Vice Admiral Quinn Reynolds Commanding Officer USS Gorkon T238401QR0

I am really enjoying the progress of this side story! ((Bridge, USS Glenn)) It was clear they were the last to arrive and the Captain gave Mel a look he was all too familiar with. He just smiled wryly in return. He let the others crowd in towards the tactical station overlooking the fore end of the bridge as the Captain began giving her presentation. He stayed back closer to the turbolift and the small accessway fore of it. A small pinch of Aine's sleeve held her back and closer to his chosen location. As much as he loved the Glenn, this presentation had been seen by him probably hundreds of times. He really didn't want to sit through it again. And as far as he knew, Aine had never been on a Galaxy before, he was ecstatic to show her some more of the hidden gems rather than the grand features. Monroe: Welcome one and all, I am Captain Monroe and I want to welcome you aboard the USS Glenn. As the Captain brought up the display on the viewscreen, Mel gave Aine's sleeve a tug. Her head turned towards him and a slightly perturbed look came across her face. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head towards the accessway. Aine's eyebrows furrowed in annoyed curiosity. A couple sharp jabs with his head towards the accessway again trying to silently convince her to come with him. He could tell she was annoyed with the idea as her lips pursed. Nonetheless, she looked back towards the Captain and when she wasn't looking, he gave her sleeve another tug and the pair hurriedly made their way, unseen to the accessway. He took her by the hand and led her down the ramp. The deck below was darker lit than the bridge. Many had no clue, but here there was an officers lounge for bridge officers. Little more than twice the area of the bridge adorned in plush furniture and various species of plants provided by the botany labs on the Glenn. It was a place for stressed and weary officers to get away for a few minutes. Not many ships had them, but Galaxy's were not just any ships. He knew they'd have no company here. The Glenn's crew was mostly on 118 enjoying their leave with skeleton crews working in shifts. Aine had broken his grip and made her way to the windows. There she stood a few feet in front of him, her arms crossed, staring off into space. Sherlock: ::thinking back to her time on her previous posting:: Not even the Excalibur had something like this. You all are really pampered. Martinson: The entire outer rim decks nine and ten are lounges. There's a lot of places on these babies to get away. He moved to just inches behind her, looking over her shoulder. The front of the saucer was like a horizon, falling off in the distance. He always felt this view gave one a good perspective on the massive size of the Glenn. Martinson: I thought you might like this view the most. I remember the first time you got to tour a ship while we were at the Academy. There was a point you fell behind because you were just standing there staring out the port. Sherlock: ::half a smile curled:: I remember that. Earth had never seemed so small before. There was a long pause. He wanted to say something, anything. But he knew better. He knew to let her just enjoy the moment. Sherlock: The lounge on the Excalibur had these massive windows. They were angled up and away. Sometimes, if there was no one else there, I'd lean on them. When you looked down and there was nothing there, it felt like you'd fall into space. The mention of falling away prompted him to move closer to her. His arms slowly wrapped around her and under her crossed arms. A part of him was suddenly nervous. Sherlock: You know, I'm still mad at you. Martinson: Are you? Sherlock: ::a grinned now fully formed:: Yeah, I am. Martinson: Ok. His embrace tightened ever so slightly. He thought she must feel some comfort as her neck relaxed and she rested the back of her head on his chest. Martinson: What was that line from the song you used to sing? The one I tried to learn? "Rockin' to a realtor, Joe co lomsa" or something like that? He could feel the silent laugh through his arms as she shook her head in disapproval. Sherlock: You were so bad at this. You're Irish is the worst. Martinson: It really is. But to be fair, it sounds more alien than alien languages. She playfully elbowed him in the ribs and he laughed in response. Sherlock: ((OOC: spelling this phonetically so those that can't read Irish can sound it out...sorta.)) Rachin tee na railta, da choe coe lomsa. Martinson: I'd travel to the stars, if you came with me. She leaned her head back once more. He missed this, though he wasn't going to say it aloud. There was comfort in old familiarity and it was clear to him she felt something like that too. He didn't speak again, he'd ruined too many moments in the past that way. There they stood, staring off into space, silently. TBC Lieutenant Melvin Martinson Federation Inter-Trade Negotiator USS Glenn R239712AS0

@Samira Neathler - an absolutely awesome sim! 😊

I've really been enjoying this building scene between @Lt Aine Olive Sherlock and @Arys - it feels very grounded and real, and I'm enjoying watching the friendship unfold! Great work! ((CMO's Office, Sickbay, Starbase 118)) Aine felt like she was in Confession. When she was younger, religion wasn't a thing her parents had pushed but the area she grew up in, it was still common. To the point it was a part of the local culture. She didn't necessarily believe in it, but it seemed the guilt part was always there and she could never shake it. Her encounter with a Q while on the Resolution definitely did much to open her eyes to other possibilities, but habits are still habits. Sherlock: At the time ::beat:: of course I didn't think he was right. I was... Trovek: Heartbroken? Sherlock: I hate that word. But yes. ::long pause:: In retrospect, and from a completely objective viewpoint, it makes sense. Arys nodded.This was the first time Aine had openly admitted it. Those who knew about Aine and Mel's past usually saw things from younger Aine's perspective, giving her the benefit of the doubt. But over time, she herself, learned it was selfish. Trovek: I personally... don't quite agree with the reasoning. I've thought about marriage and the likes a lot lately, and there are always going to be challenges and complications, especially when both partners have a career and do not solely exist for the other. Aine took another bite of her food, this piece almost looked like a honeycomb, but definitely did not taste of the sweetness of honey. She pondered where Arys was going with this. Sherlock: So you think it's possible to balance? Framed as a question, it really wasn't as much as a statement. Trovek: Yes. ::she nodded. Seemed like Aine could read her thoughts:: And, being in my mid-thirties, I think I would be able to make it work. Somehow. But in my early twenties... ::she shook her head:: Breaking up is never pleasant, but look at you contacting him despite all that. Sherlock: ::eyes shifting:: You don't think that was juvenile? Last time it felt juvenile... Trovek: Well, the good thing is you're a grown-up now. ::she smirked:: You can have grown-up conversations with him, or do grown-up activities. Grown up activities? Sherlock: oOGrown up activities?Oo Yeah ::eyes shifting again:: ::beat:: maybe... Trovek: Would you want it to last? ::she paused, rephrasing:: Or rather, would you like the option of it being able to last? She had no clue what she wanted in the end. When it came to her personal life, Aine was about the worst planner there was. Evidenced by an apartment with only a couple chairs, a single desk, and a twin bed that were all akin to Starfleet issue. Such a grown up here. Sherlock: The option...option. Right now, I just want to be able to talk to him. I don't know what it is, call it a comfort in an old familiarity? Trovek: ? Sherlock: ::attempting to change the subject again:: So, this thing with Lukin... The mention of age and marriage didn't go unnoticed by Aine. And with all the other news circulating around the "little station..." Trovek: ? Sherlock: Yeah, that... The look on Aine's face went from being a smartass to serious yet happy. Sherlock: ...does it mean I'll have to be nice to him? No matter the answer, she'd try. For the sake of her friend. For the sake of her friend's child she hadn't even met yet. Trovek: ? tag/TBC Lieutenant Aine Sherlock Tactical Officer StarBase 118 Ops R239712AS0

((Message handling subroutine, LCARS, USS Constitution-B)) LOG: 239808.12, 11768 messages processed, 134 identified as spam or fraudulent, 245 with incorrect addresses (rerouted), 12 undeliverable; 11 sender notified. ERROR: Cannot deliver message "Quantum Tunnelling Event Danger." Recipient record corrupted. Recipient rank: Lieutenant Commander. Recipient name: corrupted. ERROR: Cannot notify sender of message failure. Cannot record match sender; "Dr. Hfie" at High Energy Particle Systems (Starfleet laboratory, Earth). Note: possible partial match; Eyra Hfie, PhD (particle physics); DECEASED, 239304.11. Evaluation: unlikely, no indication of time-delay delivery. Disregard. ERROR: Cannot deliver message. Retracing message route. ERROR: Message origination route trace failed: mismatch of identification serial number on subspace relay Alpha-54-Bravo-112. ERROR: Message header corrupted. ERROR: Message signature corrupted. SEARCHING: message content. ERROR: message corruption, estimated 89%. ANALYSIS: Attempt message reconstruction. PROCESSING. RESULT: Message partially reconstructed. Reconstruction confidence: low. MESSAGE: [...] do not [...] error in Higgs [...] calculation[/calculator] [...] ANY CIRCUMSTANCE [...] consequences. [...] import[/importance] [...] fix this and try [...] until then [...] before. I owe you [...] MESSAGE END. ANALYSIS: possible phishing attempt–threat of danger, identity theft of expert, corrupted message, mismatch of metadata. CONCLUSION: Delete message, send metadata to Starfleet for operational security. Noted in ship communications log. MESSAGE DELETED. —— LCARS Message Handling subroutine as simmed by Lt Commander Lazarus Davis Chief Science Officer USS Constitution-B IDIC team member ASDB team member C239510LD0 (he/him, character) (they/them, writer)

I really love this glimpse into Tito's past , and how it makes him apathetic towards the situation he is currently in. It's a heavy read, but it really showcases the how much effort Tito's writer has put into the characters backstory. Proud of you, @Vitor S. Silveira❤️

@Kettick I'm deceased this entire thing is the funniest interaction that could have come out of getting stuck in an elevator. 🤣

A great one from @Arys. Love her explanation of why she wanted to be a counselor.

(( Cetacean Labs, USS Constitution-B )) If anyone who didn’t frequent Cetacean Ops happened by, they would think the ship was at red alert or something was wrong given the gray blur that darted up and down the length of the tanks. A blur of dolphin energy that barrelled past fish, coral, kelp, and other dolphins alike and one traumatized eel that had spent two solid minutes in a vortex of dolphin excitement as Sarek zoomed around the tanks. Eventually the gray streak settled in one area upon spotting a familiar face and he bumped his nose up against the transparent aluminum and wiggled his left fin at a confused and amused looking Tann. Ilix: Well someone’s excited. ::He smirked:: Sarek: Sarek excited! Sarek got to speak to Zindee and is invited to visit planet! Sarek gets to swim in another ocean!! Being Ambassandoor is the bestest! The Tandaran’s brow raised slightly and his smirk only widened at the exclamation from his aquatic friend. Ilix: Ambassandoor? The dolphin nodded his head rapidly and swam in a loop before settling to stare at his best friend with his right eye. Sarek: Yes! Pod mother knows Sarek and is letting Sarek go to mating ritual! He couldn’t help but chuckle. Ilix: Wedding. Mating rituals are something different for most people and rarely involve spectators. ::He said dryly:: I’m glad you’re happy, Sarek. And that you get to go on an away mission. The dolphin was swimming in slow circles and bobbing up and down until he heard his friend say that last bit. He pressed his snout up against the tank and stared at Tann. Sarek: Wait…only crew go on away missions. Is Sarek part of crew? Tann couldn’t help but give the dolphin a confused look. Ilix: I suppose so. If you’re an Ambassandoor now that would make you part of the crew. Sarek just stared at his best friend for a moment then the speakers were filled with a cacophonous wailing of excitement. He swam up to the surface, for air and breached quite high, startling a researcher before diving back down to his friend. Sarek: …of crew! Today is second bestest day of Sarek’s life!! ::He squealed:: Ok, he just had to know. Ilix: Second? What’s the first? The dolphin looped around and looked at him with his left eye this time. Sarek: Meeting pod mother is bestest day and always will be!! ::He pressed up against the tank:: Because pod mother already knew Sarek! Chirps, pops and other excitable dolphin noises flooded the other side of the tank causing Tann to chuckle. Ilix: I’m glad you’re so happy, Sarek. Sarek swam up and wiggled his tail at Tann a moment. Around the tail, snuggly wrapped was a small band that was fitted to his tail in such a way that even his swift swimming couldn’t dislodge it. Sarek: Sarek finally got a shiny!! It’s only for Sarek to go to planet, because Sarek was told this helps crew keep track of Sarek. ::He looked at Tann:: It is only tempourairy! But Sarek don’t mind, cause Sarek is finally special like crew and has a shiny! He swam slowly in circles bouncing and bobbing around as he gleefully showed off the transporter armband that had been modified to fit on him and for underwater use. Ilix: I’m proud of you, Sarek. I have to report for my shift, but I’ll drop some tuna up above before I go. Sarek squealed and nodded to his friend. Sarek: By bestest friend Tann! Sarek will tell you all about wed-ding! ::He waved a fin at his friend:: ((Timeskip- A few minutes)) Several minutes passed before another one of the crew sought him out. One of the Cetacean Ops friends approached the glass. T’Ral: Greetings, Sarek. ::He gave the dolphin the customary Vulcan greeting:: Are you prepared to beam to the surface? The dolphin swam up to the Vulcan and nodded playfully. Sarek: Yes!!!! Sarek is ready to be Ambassandoor!!! A brow was raised as one would expect. T’Ral: Fascinating. ::He nodded:: Very well, we are beaming you down along with our Xindi guests. So you are aware, we are unable to beam you directly into the water as of yet, so we will be required to beam you in the air above the surface. ::He looked at the dolphin:: Or you can wait until we have deployed the buoys to facilitate a more accurate beaming. Sarek: Sarek not want to wait! Can you beam Sarek way in the sky!!! Sarek hasn’t been in the sky before! The Vulcan shook his head slightly. T’Ral: We are going to beam you as close to the water as possible. We cannot send you down to high above, without potentially injuring you. Sarek: Sarek want to be beamed as high as possible!!!! Pleaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa….. As he exclaimed his pleading he swam back and forth in circles. Sarek: ……eeeeeeeeeesssssssssssssseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee There was an audible murmur from the Vulcan as he raised a hand. T’Ral: I shall inform them to beam you as far as is safely possible from the water’s surface. Will that suffice? Sarek: …..eaassseeee….Oh, yes, Sarek is okay with that!!! Thank you, TeeRal! TeeRal Bestest Vulcan!!! T’Ral: As always, your praise is appreciated if unwarranted. I am merely doing my job. ::He tapped the shiny on his chest:: =/\= Cetacean Ops to Transporter room two. We are ready here. As per request, please transport Sarek as high as is safely possible above the surface of the target area. =/\= Sarek scooted up against the tank staring at his bestest friend and waited impatiently. He had been told before that for them to beem him down to the surface he would have to remain still. Transporter Chief: =/\= Understood. Standby, I’m locking onto the transporter band now. Setting transport coordinates to several meters above the target site. =/\= ::There was a too long pause:: =/\= Energizing. =/\= Sarek bobbed a little in place and then he felt this strange, funny tingling sensation along his whole body. The water lit up with a blue shimmering light. It was like what he’d seen when the guests had come aboard. He was doing it! He was boldly going where no dolphin had gone before!!! ((Several meters above the ocean surface, Daaka)) The weirdest sensation he’d ever felt concluded with that blue shimmer fading away and the first thing he noted as the last bits of that light disappeared was the lack of buoyancy. Sarek saw sky, all around him and water everywhere as far as he could see below him! Sarek: Sarek is in the sky!!! Sarek had been told that the shiny they gave him would also let him still communicate with his shipmates attending the wed-ding. Gravity of course was instant the moment the transport cycle completed and the dolphin dropped out of the sky many meters above the water. As graceful as he was in the water, out of it in the sky all he could do was flail around while he flew. Sarek: Sarek can fllllyyyyyyy!!!!!! ::He exclaimed with his mouth open wide and fins and tail flapping wildly yet majestically:: The pops and clicks that rambled from him were but a drone in the air as he fell straight towards the water and hit the surface in the most exquisite of splashes. Bubbles rushed up from the impact and his exuberance before he darted back up to the surface and breached as high as he could. The happiest dolphin in the universe at that moment! Sarek splashed back into the water, which felt strange. It was hard for Sarek to describe how it felt. Thicker and almost itchy. It felt like how the water did sometimes whenever the eels in the tank got all upset. Efluvian/Nimo/Fyen: response (optional) ================================================================ Sarek The smartest Dolphin/Ambassandoor As simmed by Lieutenant JG Lystra Tactical Officer USS Constitution-B NCC-9012-B SB118 Podcast Team Writer ID: A239410TR0 https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=Lystra

I wanted to take the opportunity to say thank you to @Alora DeVeau for organizing Ops' first ever Character-Trivia Challenge ❤️ Due to a mixup in the calendar we had our monthly voice chat a week early, and Alora spontaneously decided to host a second one on the actual first weekend of the month. Someone suggested to do a Character Trivia night and Alora collect fun facts from participating players and moderated the evening. It was an absolute blast and definitely one of the best get-togethers we've had so far! Thanks also to @Sal Taybrim @Vitor S. Silveira @EgilRenot and @Lt Aine Olive Sherlock for eargerly participating

@TLea There were so many good lines I couldn't pick so I had to just throw this whole thing in the appreciations. I'm WHEEZING.

This is a really nice ending to a conversation between @Etan Iljor and @Vitor S. Silveira, which was awesome to read ❤️

Some amazing writing here from @Jansen Orrey showing the years of experience his PC has earned...

This is short, but it is clever. I love the humor. Such a small idea, that is suddenly big on funny. A small glimpse at the life of an Aurelian. I love it. Little things like this bring a character to life.

A brilliant joint post from Jim and Gina , introducing a colourful new civilian character to Denali Station. A great read, and funny too! Can't wait to see what happens in part 2!

I expected a lot, but not this

This was stunningly written and I felt from this one scene that I understood who @Maz Rodan was as a character. An absolute joy and pleasure to read ❤️ ((Deep Space 224 - Deck 9; Observation Room)) Maz felt most at peace gazing at the stars. He had such fond memories of his childhood stargazing into the Trill night sky. His thoughts drifted to Collins House in Maine, and the grand old observatory situated near the attic. He'd felt a comfort there, and half-wished he had access to the seemingly ancient technology the old clan Collins' used to use. He half-hoped David would begin regular upkeep on the telescope, but knew deep down that he wouldn't. The thought brought a small smile to his lips. Here, though, it was different. He stood in front of the massive windows of DS224, secured by force fields and transparent aluminum, The neutron star the station orbited pulsated regularly, and he felt a certain peace in the rhythm. The wonders of modern technology meant he could literally be this close to the star. So close, he could possibly touch it... His meeting with the Captain had been a learning tool, as always. The closer Maz got to command, and the easier it seemed to be able to navigate, the more it seemed he had to learn. Not for the first time he wished to be back in that royal blue uniform instead of the crimson red, tinkering with his scanners and sensors. No one had died beyond the Galactic Barrier. Not really. He felt his thoughts drift to Kelar, and wondered what his life would now be like all those thousands of light years away. Beside him, someone stepped up to the railing of the observation gantry and leant on it casually. They indicated the star in front of them. Maz still had his sunglasses on, and couldn't quite make out who it was by their reflection in the force field. Birack: Go on then, how hot is it? Without missing a beat, Maz replied almost computer-like. Rodan: Ten to the twelth power kelvin. Suddenly turning to see the identity of the speaker, Maz removed his aviators in an instant and grinned. Rodan: Lee! His old Academy friend - Lee Birack - stood next to him, grinning like a cat himself. Maz let out a genuine laugh and embraced the blonde haired man like a brother. Rodan: You son of a... what are you doing here? Birack: The Brave is docked for a little while. Saw the Arrow was this way on, and knew you wouldn't be far away from a viewing port. Maz smiled. He smiled so much his cheeks started to hurt. It had been a long time since he'd seen his old friend, and he looked well. Rodan: I got your last subspace letter. You made full Lieutenant on the Brave! Congratulations! Below them, the USS Brave - a Defiant class ship - was nestled in between the other Starfleet and civilian ships currently docked. Birack: Thanks, Nev. Though what a little warship like that needs with a Chief Science Officer I'll never know. Hey, congrats to you, too, Mr. First Officer! Maz almost blushed but took a gentle elbow to his ribs from his friend. Birack: CSO of the Dickens, then XO of the Arrow, that's quite a career! And you're Joined, too. I feel like you've grown up a lot since we shared a dorm at the Academy. You'll have to tell me what that's like! Rodan: Grown up too much, sometimes. It's a bit crazy, isn't it. ::Beat.:: It's good to see you, Lee! Lee nodded and patted Maz on the shoulder. Birack: I'm so glad you're here, man! He leaned closer almost conspiratorially. Birack: I know we haven't had a Storm Chaser meeting in a few years, not since the Academy... Maz nodded the affirmative. During his senior year he joined with Birack and a few others to experiment with developing the technology to create a galactic pre-warning system for ion storms. The drive and the energy was there, but Starfleet remained skeptical. There was never anything above a Category 2 storm in the entire sector, and Starfleet wouldn't authorise use of anything better than an old Class 2 shuttle for their research. After gathering as much data as they could in the field, their research seemed to fall stagnant. Birack: But... there's one developing three sectors away. A BIG one. Maz's mouth gaped open in comic surprise. Could he mean? Rodan: A Cat-5? Seriously!? Here? Birack nodded sagely then broke into a boyish smirk. Birack: Yup. It should give us enough data to perfect our proposal to Starfleet. Rodan: You mean you've got the sensor drones working? Birack: And my CO has convinced DS224 to authorise the use of a Runabout for the storm hunt. We're back in business, buddy! Suddenly, despite his doldrums after the Arrow's latest mission, he felt spurred into life. This was what he was passionate about. This was science! How long had he waited for a call from Lee to say their work could continue? What started out as a student's curiosity suddenly became a real, tangible goal. Rodan: I don't believe it. I'm literally so happy... Birack: So what do you say, Nev? You in? I need you. You're the best goddamn particle cascade mapper in the Quadrant, no! The galaxy! C'mon buddy, you could pick a grain of sand out of a black hole with a pair of tweezers and a magnifying glass... The Trill scoffed incredulously and rolled his eyes, but his friend patted him on the shoulder again. Birack: Say you're in? Maz looked at his friend in the eyes. He could see the passion and determination. He nodded, and caused the human man to punch the air in triumph. Rodan: You've got the Runabout? Birack: I've got it. Rodan: And the shielding? Birack: Laszlo is working on it as we speak. It's a green light! Rodan: I can't believe it... ::He thought for a moment.:: I'm gonna need a Class IX optrical calibrator scanner! I know where I can get one... He rushed off excitedly. Lee called out after him, and Maz turned and started walking backwards toward the large doors of the observation room. Rodan: I'll be back soon! I'll meet you at the bar in an hour! He turned back the right way and almost sprinted out of the Observation Room and into the massive corridor. He was excited beyond belief now, and fished his comm.badge out of the top pocket of his loud Hawaiian shirt. Rodan: =/\= Rodan to Collins! =/\= Collins: Response Of all the people he knew on the Arrow, he knew Quentin would be most intrigued by this new venture, and he'd love to share it with him. Rodan: =/\= Have you ever wanted to fly head on into a Category 5 ion storm in the name of science? =/\= Collins: Response TAG -- Lt. Commander Maz Rodan First Officer USS Arrow, NCC 69829 C237708DW0 --- Co-Wiki Operator Mission Archivist Training Team Member FNS Contributor

This is a really lovely sim by Tahna Meru; beautifully written, with lovely character development. A great way to explore a character from a different perspective. Bravo! ((Starfleet Academy, San Francisco Campus, Earth)) The windows of Archer Hall reflected the sunset, pinks and oranges and golds splashed across their glistening surface, the vibrant colors of the sky slowly chased down into the bay by the deep blue of oncoming twilight. Trees and shrubs lined the path back to his dormitory, still the boring, unimaginative green of summer vegetation. Renas wasn’t sure when they’d begin turning, but he was excited for his first autumn on Earth, reportedly cooler and more golden than summer. It would be weird, experiencing an autumn without helping with the kava harvest. He’d laughed when, at the end of spring semester, Alex had suggested they spend an afternoon picking strawberries “for fun.” He’d intended to leave picking and weeding and farming and growing all behind on Bajor, leave it to the folks who actually enjoyed that work, like his father and sister. Now, eight months into his time on Earth, the harvest season was coming up. And he wouldn’t be participating in any harvest rituals or celebrations, wouldn’t be sorting kava and hauling it all to market. Now, instead of feeling incredulous at the idea that someone would farm “for fun,” he felt…something else, something he couldn’t name. Something that wasn’t hunger, but was gnawing at the pit of his stomach, making him feel twitchy all over. Guilt, maybe? Longing? But it was different, this time, from when he’d felt those emotions in the past. He didn’t like it. He looked down at the PADD in his hands, two quick movements swiping across the screen to forward his new schedule, and place a call. It rang thrice before the screen lit up with a familiar face. Warm brown skin, less tanned now than it was when they were both back on Bajor, unruly hair pulled back in a messy knot, a violet blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a cape. The odd opposite to him, in his freshly-pressed Academy uniform and well-gelled hair. She yawned, covering her mouth with one hand. Tahna: Hey, Ren. Valis: Hey! So I just got next semester’s schedule and sent it your way, did you have any of the professors? She huffed, shifting slightly, and her eyes began slowly scanning the text. Valis: What time is it there anyway? Tahna: You have just interrupted my morning raktajino, thank you very much. He grinned, sporting the same rascal-ish look his family would probably forever associate with him, despite his neat new uniform and sense of duty. Professionality was so hard to maintain; for all that he’d tried, it simply wasn’t in his nature. Valis: Oops. Anyway, see any familiar names? He paused, leaning up against a tree just off the path, rubbing a hand over his chin. She sipped at a raktajino in a Brew Continuum-branded mug. Extra sweet with kava, if he had to guess. He couldn’t stand the stuff—no amount of sweetener was able to mask the bitter, drying tannins, no matter what anyone told him. No thank you, he’d stick to his Maximum Warp Energy Drinks (Matter/Antimatter Berry Mix was by far the best flavor, and maybe if Meru would just give the drinks a chance, she’d agree…). Tahna: I had Commander th’Ellin, Federation Law. She interrupted his musings, flicking away the schedule and making eye contact through the screen. Tahna: He’s a good professor, but he’s got zero tolerance for late work. Stay on top of everything and you’ll be fine. Valis: Got it. What about the others? Mer shook her head, steam from the mug curling up in front of her face in long, translucent tendrils. She closed her eyes, taking in the drink’s unique (overpowering, off-putting) scent. He really appreciated her extra insight on Academy life, but honestly, he’d not had any problems with professors so far. He’d earned straight As, in fact, and he intended to keep it that way. He had every intention of beating his cousin to captain, never mind her five-year head start or her complete lack of interest in a captaincy (he figured those two facts balanced each other out). Valis: So I guess I’ve gotta call you Lieutenant now, not "Mer" or "vaysh¹." She rolled her eyes. Tahna: Bye, Ren. She didn’t end the call, though, just sat there, staring and sipping her raktajino. He began walking again, slowly, because as soon as he rounded the next hill his dormitory would be in sight, and as long as he was out here, not in there, he could delay his evening plans. It was unlike him to delay anything, especially anything where socializing was a key element, but classes and missions and time differences meant this was the first chance he’d had to actually talk to his cousin in months. They’d exchanged notes, of course… ‘Hey, any chance you can put a word in for me with Commander Lowe? I want to join his next project, but he’s only taking upperclassmen,’ he’d write. ‘You think my word goes a lot further than it actually does,’ she’d write back, ‘How are classes?’ He slowed as he neared the crest of the hill. San Francisco was very different from Kashnar. It was really hilly, for one thing. He still wasn’t entirely used to the fact that it wasn’t just kava fields as far as the eye could see. It was also much, much bigger than their tiny farming town. You couldn’t walk from one side of town to the other in a couple hours or less, and everybody didn’t know everybody here. Compared to back home, he felt like a nobody here, and that was both exciting and intimidating. It felt like…well, it felt like standing at the top of a hill, looking down at a bay of endless potential. Valis: How’s your mother? Meru gave him a funny, tired look. Tahna: Let’s talk about something else. He knew, as well as anyone, the tension between Mer and his aunt. He’d lived with it for nearly two decades, and it only got worse when he was accepted to the Academy. Everyone else in their family was supportive, sure, but Yania² Tahna…she held too tightly to everyone, like she was afraid of being hurt, and it didn’t seem to work well for her. But he knew better than to push the subject, especially when Mer still hadn’t finished her raktajino. Valis: Okay. Well, I have a date tonight. That was one way to change the subject. His cousin raised an eyebrow, hiding a teasing smirk behind her mug. Tahna: Really? Who’s the unlucky guy this time? He snorted. Valis: Okay, rude. I am a great date. And he’s a very handsome Orion, in the nursing program. Fixed me up when I dislocated my elbow sparring last week. He’d even made fun of Renas for the injury, calling him “one of those no-good Command hopefuls,” while he adjusted the joint, his beautiful shoulder-length curls pulled back in a very professional ponytail. Ren had retorted that he was “just another fussy nurse”—it was all very charming, and they were going for seafood tonight. Ren still had to get ready for that date, and he would, as soon as his lazy walk back to the dorms reached its inevitable end. But he considered Mer just as much a sister to him as Tara, despite any technicalities about how they were related, and they hadn’t had a chance to catch up in a while. He didn’t want to end their rare call prematurely, or leave her with the impression that since he joined Starfleet he only cared about how much she could advance his career Tahna: Sounds like an amazing first impression. Think this one’s gonna last any longer than the last–::She paused, making a show of counting up his previous dates on her fingers:: fifty or so? He made a show of pouting. Valis: Why do I bother calling when I know you’re just going to bully me? And yes, this guy feels different. She was kind enough not to point out that he’d also said that about the previous “fifty or so” guys. He meant well, he really did want to be in a relationship, not just date. But it was weird going from knowing all six people in your town who were eligible, to a massive city full of single folks, each as unique as the grains of sand on the beach. Valis: Anyway, you’re one to lecture me about relationships. When was the last time you even went on a date? Another one of the many ways he differed from his cousin. They shared the traits of being overachievers, of longing for the stars, but he’d always been the wild child to her quiet, reserved intelligence. He looked at her now, her expression notably blank. Tahna: I’ve been… busy. Yeah, busy, for what, three years? Four? He didn’t know the specifics of her last relationship, only that Tara told him it ended badly, and since then she’d made the excuse that she was just “too busy” to date. He was living proof that being a chronic overachiever wasn’t entirely at odds with wanting a bit of romance. He wanted to help! She deserved to find a partner to be happy with, but this was a subject she’d consistently avoided with him and Tara both. Not because she wasn’t interested in dating, but because she was scared, and hid it behind excuses of “not having time.” But this was another topic that would go nowhere if he pushed it; Mer could be just as stubborn as every other Tahna and Valis. This time, she changed the subject. Tahna: You’re still going for the Command program, right? He nodded. Valis: Yeah. But it’s… weird. I can’t do much specifically Command track as a first year, and people keep encouraging me to consider other tracks, and it’s… ::He stopped, considering his next words.:: I’m not used to not knowing where I fit. Tahna: There’s a million ways to the chair. He nodded; he’d heard those very words about a million times from different professors, and he knew she’d heard them plenty too, even if she’d never considered that path for herself. Tahna: I don’t think I ever told you—it was too embarrassing at the time—but my first year roommate introduced me to everyone we met, incorrectly, for a year. Ren’s eyes widened as his thoughtful look morphed into a curious smile, his command woes temporarily forgotten. She hadn’t told him this, or Tara, or anyone else in their family as far as he knew. And what a quintessentially Meru story it sounded like! She was never smart enough to stay out of trouble for long. Valis: No, really? Meru nodded, one corner of her lips tilting up in the tiniest dimpled smile. Tahna: Yep. She was human, and so proud of herself for reading up on Bajoran culture before we met. She read enough to know that Tahna was my family name, but not enough to know that typically only their closest family and friends use a Bajoran’s given name. She proudly introduced me to all her friends as “my roommate, Meru!” Ren gasped, then laughed, a boisterous laugh he got from his father. Tahna: I was too timid to correct her, and no one else she introduced me to knew better so I didn’t want to seem rude, and she seemed so confident. ::She shook her head.:: It was uncomfortable at first, and then I got used to it, I guess. She paused to sip her raktajino before setting the mug aside. She must’ve finally finished it. Her face was more serious now, more alert. Tahna: Then, I joined the Gorkon, and I was so used to being known as Meru and so scared of seeming standoffish, because of that well-meaning roommate, that I didn’t know how to introduce myself anymore when I met my crewmates outside of a work setting. Thankfully, they’d all had a lot more experience with Bajoran culture than her, and no matter how I introduced myself, even the people who became my friends called me Tahna. Still do. ::She smiled softly, and the look in her eyes was that of a person a million lightyears away from their body, lost in a fond memory.:: They didn’t even realize they were doing it, but they gave my name back its power. Valis: That’s…yeah. He trailed off, lacking the words to respond, but he understood. “Timid” had never been an accurate descriptor for Renas, but he understood feeling out of place, even among friends, even in your own body. But she just smiled at him from the screen of his PADD, the same encouraging smile and deep brown, nearly black eyes she shared with Tara. The same sisterly attitude, too; always ready to help others, but hesitant to accept help herself. Tahna: Keep at it, Ren. You’ll find your place. He nodded, standing outside the entrance to his dorm now, with the sun hanging so low in the sky it almost appeared to melt into the sea. He ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat, grinning with all the cockiness he usually boasted. Valis: Aye, Lieutenant. Now if I’m dismissed, I’ve got a date. ¹ Bajoran: jerk ² Bajoran: aunt -- Cadet Valis Renas 1st Year Cadet Starfleet Academy as simmed by Lieutenant (j.g.) Tahna Meru Science Officer USS Gorkon (NCC-82293) G239801TM4

After a pretty intense adventure at the Spire our new Counsellor, Lieutenant JG Yael, finally has the opportunity to move into his new apartment at Denali Station. I really enjoyed reading this, great work @Yael! ((Denali Station - Soldotna Tower, Floor 40)) Having just finished up in the Medical Bay with his arm largely improved by Doctor Indobri, if it was still a bit off as it would need a little time to completely heal, Ashley made his way from Anchorage to Soldotna via the 8th floor walkway. He’d discovered via the registry that he’d been assigned quarters. As he’d requested, rather high up… the fortieth floor, the very top. He had lived all sorts of places but never at the very top of a skyscraper, so he’d asked for “up.” And it had been delivered. And he’d instantly cursed his initial request, as the not-a-turbolift took FOR-E-VER to climb that distance. But… maybe this was a good thing. A little separation, physically, could be a good thing. A few minutes transit to switch the mind from work, to personal, and back again. He would make this work. Stepping off the blasted snails-paced trudge-a-lift, he turned, stopped, questioned his direction, looked behind him, then realized he was going the right way down the corridor after all. He found the doorway to his new… apartment? It was an apartment when it was on a proper settlement, wasn’t it? Now he could toss down his satchel, strip off the uniform he’d been wearing for nearly two days, and *sleep.* The door opened… a little slower than a Fleet tech door might… and he stepped in. And he stopped to take in the entirely empty room with a bit of shock. The apartment itself seemed huge. An entry and living space, a full sized separate bedroom, and a relatively massive bathroom… with what looked to be… an H2O shower? It wasn’t a *sonic* shower, that he knew. And he did love the floor-to-ceiling window wall that showed the dimming light of the city outside from far above… the view was absolutely impressive. But he quickly realized he didn’t even have a replicator, and there wasn’t any sort of kitchenette either. Yeargh… what was this, the Stone Age? He’d always been a bit of a minimalist concerning space and furnishings, but this was a bit much. All this combined with the utter lack of furnishings left him wondering what he should do first, and his shoulders slumped slightly as he realized he had some work left to do before he could sleep. Producing his personal computer and taking a seat on the floor near the vast window wall, he interlinked with the local Fleet system and put in an order at one of the open replimats for some basic provisions. And he kept it *basic* in the hopes the order could be supplied more quickly. An appropriately sized single mattress, linens, pillow, a spare uniform for tomorrow, a large towel, and a set of simple sleepwear. What could he say. He was tired. Other things could wait. It wasn’t as if a couch or table were *vital.* He took the next few minutes to check his messages, then leaned back against the wall as the “sunset” rolled past and the city was encompassed in darkness. It all looked so real, he could forget he was on a Dyson Ring instead of a planet… save the few clues that broke the believability. Such as the artificial ceiling so very high above that replicated the day-night cycle. It was subtle, one had to be looking for it, but you could see it. He… wasn’t sure if he *liked* it here, yet. The Denobulan-Human hybrid was starting to doubt his transfer here and his eyes were threatening to slip shut when he heard the sound of a transport in progress. His goods were finally processed and delivered, smack dab in the middle of the living room. This was fine. He could work with this. Linens applied to mattress, he debated… sleep, or shower? … ……. Ugh. Shower. Stripping off his uniform and abandoning it on the restrooms floor, he began to mess with the odd shower and quickly found the temperature settings. He hadn’t had a water shower in quite some time, but the hot steaming water smashing down into his face and shoulders felt therapeutic. Especially as it beat onto his previously injured shoulder, which he let it do for longer than perhaps was necessary. Increasing the temperature bit by bit, he kept going until it stripped off the layer of grime clinging to him and his skin was searing red. Finally satisfied and with his skin steaming from the heat, he dried off without bothering to organize his scruffy lavender hair, pulled on the soft sleep pants… and collapsed into his bed right there in the middle of his living room. TAG ~*~ Lieutenant JG Ashley Yael Counselor Denali Station

I see our ’new’ ensign will fit right in with our crew. 😆 (( Shuttle Bay, USS Gorkon )) Ten steps, turn, ten steps, turn. The shuttle had docked 15 minutes ago, and Asra was pacing the shuttle bay. From zer approach, ze could see that apparently the majority of the crew were milling about outside the ship, which seemed like a strange life choice but Asra was aware that schooling rarely matched practice. Still, ze was *fairly* sure the crew were supposed to be on the INSIDE of the ship, not the outside. Ten steps, turn, ten steps, turn. Lil Claw: You don't have to wait for anyone. Asra: I'm not waiting. I'm pacing. Lil Claw: Ask the ship where the captain is... Asra: Admiral Lil Claw: ... and it will tell you. You know this. You've been rehearsing it for the past three hours. Asra: What if she hates me? Lil Claw: she won't. Asra: But what if she DOES? Lil Claw: Then you can stay in your quarters and dangle a piece of string above me. I'll roll on my back and bat at it. It will be adorable. She stopped pacing. Asra: It WOULD be adorable. Lil Claw: Also, I can't talk, so don't talk to me. Asra: Right. Lil Claw: Mew? Asra: Excellent point. Lil Claw: Mrrp. Moving carefully so as to not dislodging the kitten from zer shoulder -- or worse, cause it to dig in for stability -- ze picked up her bag and put it on zer other shoulder. One more check that her uniform was in place. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Asra: Computer, locate Admiral Reynolds. (( Saucer Section Exterior Hull, USS Gorkon )) Nope. Being on the outside of the hull didn't make more sense when ze was there instead of just looking. oO If I could find where the field controls are, I could murder the entire crew by disabling.... oh,crap, I hope there aren't any telepaths in the crew. HI TELEPATHS I WAS NOT PLANNING TO MURDER THE CREW I AM JUST CONCERNED FOR SHIP SAFETY. Oo Deep breath in. Wince slightly while Lil Claw climbs up onto zer head for a better view. Deep breath out. Ze scanned the crew for the Admiral; not exactly the easiest to spot, but ... was that her partner? Ze made her way towards them, trying not to draw too much attention to zerself. Yes -- there she was. Talking to a few people. Command staff. Well. Now or never. Asra: Admiral, Ensign Asra, reporting for duty. Ze gave a crisp salute only marred slightly by the kitten batting at her hand as she did. Reynolds: Response Asra: Sorry for interrupting, I had been told to report to you first thing on arrival. I assume they MEANT to add, unless she's at a party outside the ship, then you can wait until after, but they didn't, and so, um, hello. ::Ze gave a weak grin:: Reynolds/Brunsig/Sevo/Marshall: Response Lil Claw: Mow. -- Ensign Asra Sec/Tac Officer O238601KG0

((Somewhere)) MacKenna: You're going to be okay. Shayne grimaced in appreciation and camaraderie, and totally did not scream the things he wanted to. oO Leave me be! Five years you’ve known me, but you don’t know when to just let me be! Oo It was all he could do to keep up the facade, the facade that he felt the same way as her in that moment. It was a rare thing that they diverged, but when it occurred, the world was more challenging. There was just such a divergence now, and he worked so damn hard to keep that fact from his fiance, because it would do her no good to worry, and it gave him something to think about besides the eyes of the young Maquis he’d just incinerated. He seemed to pass the smell check, though he knew that with each passing moment, the difficulty in keeping up the appearance would grow, and the opportunity for a slip up would fail. They couldn’t afford such distractions- well, maybe Ash could, but she’d always been a creature drawn to shadows. If there was one thing he’d learned it was that shadows were patient. And though the captain had killed on rare occasion previously, it was without any doubt in his mind that he realized this particular shadow would loom for a very long time. The breeze felt good on his face, and he took a position behind Ash, her lithe form tackling the terrain with grace that he could never emulate. He did his best though, trudging forward with a swiftness that might not be expected of a man of his considerable size. His lungs burned, his legs shrieked, his mouth contorted into a shape of madness, but he didn’t slow down, not until Ash turned back to face him. Under the stars, there was no question that she’d see the tear, but perhaps she’d attribute it to their combined exertions. MacKenna: How are you holding up? Shayne: Never better. His voice was hoarse. Damn her and her care. Damn her and her compassion. Her needs were valid, of course, but sometimes it was difficult to convey that, in times like this, what she offered was the last thing he could stand, let alone want. Connection, empathy, warmth, grace, hope- -a blast of ozone shearing through the dusty air and cleaving a man from his home, and his family, and his endeavors, without even a body to bury- She wasn’t buying his equilibrium, but perhaps she was swayed on the “dealing with it” part. MacKenna: I get it. Her touch was beautiful, and gentle, and all the things he’d come to know, and in the moment, it took every ounce of strength to not throw it off. It wasn’t her hand. It was a mocking corpse’s pale white limb, caressing him from the grave- Shayne: Ah! He jolted away, and then covered his unusual movement with a rub of his elbow, feigning an aggravation of a wound he’d sustained in the tunnel system. MacKenna: Well, can you see that? He focused toward her gaze, her gesture narrowing down the options. Sure enough, a light burned bright, well into the distance. Normally he’d see that as salvation, good news. And it was. For their survival, for their plans, for their families. Suddenly the prospect of escape had lost its luster slightly. Shayne: And what shall we do when we get there? MacKenna: If we can find a console or something, we can rig it to send a distress signal. Shayne was already speaking as she finished her sentence. Shayne: Let’s go. They ran, Shayne clumsily tripping over his own feet and underbrush. He didn’t stop, not even when he fell on his face. By the time his chin scratched the craggy ground he was scrabbling for traction, ignoring the small line of red that now descended towards his neck. If he were a thinking man in that moment, he’d say that he was running from the truth- then again, he was leaving that fact in the dust behind him. The light turned into a small structure, and then a small complex, no larger than a moderate house. Shayne pulled out the weapon he’d shoved into his uniform, training ingrained in him taking over even for the desire to do no harm. He kept the pistol in low ready, stepping slowly and carefully and quietly- A figure loomed. Shayne brought the weapon to bear instantly, and fired, and… and… No. He hadn’t pulled the trigger. No matter what thought he put into it, his finger simply… wouldn’t obey. The figure wavered and undulated like it was in a state of flow, and then… The spotlight that spun atop the main structure spun their way, revealing a young tree waving in the desert wind. Shayne sighed and tried not to let the fact that he’d almost lost a shooting war to a plant get under his skin. Shayne: Cover me. MacKenna: Response A panel in the wall called to his attention, and he accessed it with some well placed concussive maintenance. The complex featured a relay system of incomparable simplicity and age; a few specifically timed interruptions in the active feed modulator were all that was necessary to convey a series of numerals that any Starfleet ship in range would recognize as a distress signal. He closed the panel, and slid his back down the wall, unable to catch his breath properly, but refusing to pant like an animal. Shayne: Now we wait. That prospect was more terrifying than any battle he’d taken part in. MacKenna: Response Tag/TBC… Captain Randal Shayne Commanding Officer USS Arrow NCC 69829 G239202RS0