Search the Community

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. 😉

I've been so impressed with @Leenaya Edrei's writing and her first patient loss is no exception so I wanted to share this excellent medical sim from our newest doctor! (Also we found this guy in the rubble, so I'm sad he didn't make it.)

Yinn's writer has been exploring an interesting concept of a merging of minds - quite literally - but not of bodies (think Tuvix, but where Neelix and Tuvok bodies still walk around but they share a mind that is technically a single entity). Here, we see what happens when those two bodies are rent apart due to a temporal anomaly and now she finds herself as only herself again. Great sim! IC: (( Cargo Bay, Deck 33, USS Sequoia, Sol System [Frontier Day] )) Half of Yinn was gone. The stronger, heavier set of limbs. The eyes that could see better in the dark. The pain in her other back she grudgingly admitted bothered her sometimes. But worse than that, half her mind was gone. She knew, in the abstract, that she had grown up in Hitorah colony, but she could no longer remember the smells of her house there, the sound of her mother, Bu'kah, singing opera to herself when she thought no one was listening. She couldn't remember her life there. Except that wasn't her life. It was his. Loq. Who had been a part of her. Who had been her. And without warning, with no reason she could understand, he was gone. Was he dead? Was she? Their bodies had been separated before; out of phase with each other, but even as her Bolian body was comatose, her mind was intact. But not this time. She kept reaching out, trying to make her phantom limbs, her phantom body move. But it was no use. That part of her was gone. Herrick: Frontier… Day?! Richards: The Enterprise! Yinn barely registered that she was no longer at the party, no longer on the treasure moon at all. What happened to Stendhal? Who seemed to be in two places at once and then nowhere? What happened to Caras? Yinn had tried to save him and put him in even more danger. Why were they back on the ship? Why was Herrick here? Richards: Wait. 250th? That’s the… Nijal: (tilting back and forth) The most recent one. Where that fleet formation almost took out three-quarters of the fleet. Yinn: Zi... what happened to us? Was she speaking with her Bolian mouth or her Klingon one? Was she speaking at all? It used to be easy to keep track. Richards: Maybe we already have an assigned viewing lounge? Nijal: You mean, like, maybe we're meant to be here? Because we already were here? Even while we were also in the Gamma Quadrant? Yinn's fellow crewmen sounded serious. Something had happened, but she couldn't make sense of what they were saying. They're also in the Gamma Quadrant? As opposed to where? Herrick: I suspect we might be able to blend into any of the lounges as the ship’s staff. I doubt the security is that tight (beat) yet. Our priorities should be confirming if anyone else from the Butler is onboard and figuring out a plan to get home. They weren't on the treasure moon, but they also weren't on the Butler. Maybe weren't in the Gamma Quadrant. Was that why she couldn't feel Loq? Were they too far away? Had they gone through the wormhole? Her scientist brain, singular, started slowly coming back to life. Questioning. Analyzing. Richards: (with a reluctant nod) Right. (another nod) Well then. We have twenty minutes. Yinn: oOSir... what happens in twenty minutes?Oo But Richards looked past her at Nijal. Was Yinn even here? Was she out of phase again? Or had she just forgotten how to speak out loud? She took a breath and felt the air filling her lungs. Not real air, salt air, but the sterile air of a starship. She closed her eyes and felt her skirt, snug around her hips, the hundreds of shells of her necklace ever-so-slightly digging into her chest. She flexed her fingers, then her arms. She ran her tongue across the roof of her mouth. This was her body. Her one body. All she had left. She touched her tongue to her teeth, then pulled it back a millimeter. She sent a stream of air across it, an experimental hiss, just to see if she could form words. (ooc: Bolian speech is mostly hissing, I decided a while back) Nijal: It's probably better if we see as few people as possible, just in case. Richards: Responses Yinn: Sir. Herrick nodded and kept going. He heard her, she was real after all. He just thought he was agreeing. Herrick: (nodding) It’s best to avoid the transporters… (lowering his voice) you may recall that it was the primary delivery mechanism of the nanoprobes, and I’d rather avoid becoming a member of the collective today. ::motioning to Nijal:: Can you ascertain where we are? Nanoprobes? Collective? Had Yinn awoken in the middle of a mission? She was still dressed for the party... on that moon... something about a knife... Betazoids in cages... had that all been a dream? Yinn needed to stop everything, just for a minute, and find out what had happened to her. But the rest of the crew were lost in conversation. Something serious was happening. And she still wasn't sure she knew how to speak. Nijal: (reading from the wall panel) Deck 33. And this is (beat; reading) the Sequoia. (looking to Richards) Why did you think this was the Enterprise? Wasn't the Galaxy class Enterprise destroyed decades ago? Richards: Response Herrick: (nodding) That’s right. Even decades after her commission she remains infamous. Richards: Response Herrick: Do we recall what happened to the Sequoia? Richards: Responses Nijal: (continuing on) How'd we get here? Yinn: Yes. Finally. That was the question that needed answering. Yinn reached out to put an arm on Nijal's shoulder, but it just drifted off in another direction. Richards: Responses Herrick: (unsure) Maybe something happened if we did end up exchanging fire with those cult folk? ::opening his tricorder, running some scans:: There only seems to be the four of us from the Butler… and some scattered temporal readings. (beat) 2 are moving, and 1 seems stationary. Yinn: Cult? Richards/Nijal: Responses Herrick: (shaking his head) I’m not too keen to split up unless absolutely necessary. It adds more risk of exposure or further separation. Yinn: Separation. Richards/Nijal: Responses Josh looked at his tricorder and increased the resolution. Herrick: It looks like the moving signatures are up on Deck 2 and the stationary one is on Deck 9… in Solid Waste Reprocessing Yinn still didn't understand where they were or what had happened, but three of the crew elsewhere on this ship? Crew they had to find? That part, at least, made sense. Richards/Nijal: Responses Herrick: Alright team; let’s press onward. Yinn finally found her voice. She could finally push a solid stream of air between her lips. Yinn: Wait. Herrick stopped and looked back at her. Finally. Yinn: Sir. I don't understand what's happening. I was on the treasure moon with Nijal, I blacked out, and I came to in the middle of this mission. And... She was almost afraid to say it. Saying it made it real. This wasn't just some wild hallucination. Half of her was really gone. Yinn: I'm just me, sir. I can't feel Loq's body, or his memories, or... Herrick/Richards/Nijal: Responses Yinn: I'm sorry, sir. I know there are crew we need to find. And something happens in nineteen minutes. But... I don't know how I got here, and half of me is gone. I... Can't? Can't complete the mission? Do her duty as a Starfleet officer? Would she dishonor herself and her house? Yinn: I'm sorry, sir. I just needed a minute. Tell me where I need to be. Herrick/Richards/Nijal: Responses Tags! and TBC! --- Lt. Junior Grade Yinn Science Officer USS Octavia E. Butler O240011Y12

@Jovenan's latest sim has everything: jokes, minor acts of insubordination (GASP), a cute worm, skants (the best uniform variant), the absolute most devastating emotional consequence in this entire mission so far (no cute worm pet)...

This sim gives a really good picture of how an officer might feel when getting ready to leave their crew for another assignment, even a temporary one. It also has my favorite description ever of transporter beam travel. The writer for Charles Matthew/ Tereza Delgado did a really great job! ((Transporter Room One, Deck 2, USS Borealis)) ((Time Index: 1 Hour Later)) Tereza had made the relatively short journey from her quarters on the starboard side of the deck to Transporter Room One. The one advantage of a Nova Class starship was that getting anywhere didn’t seem to take a long time. The ship was just a fraction of the size of a Galaxy Class vessel; just eight decks compared to its forty-two, and the size difference was almost staggering. She took some time to read up on the ship, and its history, and simply hadn’t served on anything like the Astraeus before. Captain Salzburg had completely caught her off guard. In the subsequent hour since he had made his request of Captain Mei’konda, Commander Delgado had asked the old Captain of the Borealis about it further. There wasn’t much more given away. In fact, there was barely anything added to what he had initially said on the Bridge. After taking the time for a quick shower and changing into a fresh, crisp uniform, the First Officer took the chance to go and visit a few friends and favoured colleagues, telling them all she’d see them soon, before collecting a few essentials from her quarters and a data packet containing all of the information that the Borealis had obtained; just in case. As the Transporter Room door swished closed behind her, Delgado gripped at the strap that rested across her right shoulder, making sure it didn’t slide down yet another time. As she glanced around the small room, Tereza was glad to find that nobody else was here; just the Bajoran Transporter Chief manning his station. Letting out a sigh of relief, she smiled towards the taller colleague and took a step towards the Transporter Pad. She knew him long enough to know that he would be business as usual. She hated fanfare and being made a fuss of; besides, she was only joining the Astraeus on a temporary basis. Shoram: Commander. I’ve been expecting you. ::pause:: All set? Delgado: Ready as I’ll ever be, Chief Shoram. Is the Astraeus within transporter range? She felt her mouth dry as the Chief shifted his gaze to the console in front of him, tapping quickly at a few buttons before raising his head slowly. Shoram: Yes, Ma’am. Location confirmed. Delgado: ::nodding:: Very good, Chief. Tereza turned on her heels, and took a few large strides, before taking her place on the circular Pad that occupied the room. Delgado: Inform the Bridge that we are ready for transport. Shoram pressed at several more buttons, before what can only be described as a confirmation beep sounded out from the Transporter station. Shoram: Confirmation received. ::pause:: Take care, Commander. Tereza smiled, letting a warmth radiate from her eyes, and nodded. Delgado: See you soon, Shoram. With that, the telltale signs of a standard Transporter beam shimmered into being as Commander Delgado was broken down molecule by molecule, compressed into a data stream, and transmitted towards the Astraeus. In almost the blink of an eye, her molecules were quickly recombined, and she blinked slowly as she returned to whole in the unfamiliar Transporter Room. ((Transporter Room One, Deck 6, USS Astraeus)) As the recognisable whine faded away, Tereza took a slow step forward off of the Transporter Pad, casting her hazel eyes onto Captain Mei’konda and waiting for the Caitian man to speak. Mei’konda: Response Delgado: Commander Tereza Delgado, reporting, Sir. She turned her head as the woman she recognised as the First Officer took a step towards her. Rosek-Skyfire: ::steps forward:: It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Lieutenant Commander Rosek, the Astraeus’s first officer. Tasen: Response Delgado: Commander. Lieutenant. ::smiling, nodding:: Likewise. It’s a pleasure to meet you both in person. Mei’konda: Response Delgado: Captain, I am grateful you agreed to Captain Salzburg’s request. I appreciate that it was a little unexpected. ::pause:: At least it was for me… I had no idea. Mei’konda: Response Any: Response --- MSNPC Commander Tereza Delgado Simmed by: Lieutenant Charles Matthews Acting Chief of Tactical & Security USS Astraeus NCC-70652

This sim is well written, as Chris' always are, but it's rare that I genuinely laugh out loud while reading and this one got me. Beyond humor and a romantic rivalry, it's also got some really great Trek science in it, even if Caldwell would rather leave the big words to the blue shirts! 😅 Lieutenant Christopher Caldwell: Yeah, Science! ((Bridge, Deck 1, USS Astraeus)) ((Time Skip: 45 minutes later)) Right now Christopher Caldwell didn't have that much to do having successfully worked with his counterpart on board the Borealis around arranging a rendezvous. True there had been a minor disagreement to resolve as to which ship should divert more out of it's way in order to facilitate the transfer, something that ended up being settled relatively easily with a simple 'mine is bigger than yours', a contest the diminutive Nova class Borealis was simply never going to win. With the disagreement resolved he'd spent much of his time looking for opportunities to shave some time off of their journey, whilst it would take weeks no matter what he did, he was eager to reduce the time spent travelling by as much as possible, especially with Esa Kiax goading him about how long it would take and the Captain having served at the helm himself earlier in his career. oO I need to show both of them what I can do. Oo Matthews: Commander Kiax. I… Would you mind taking a look at this please? His ears perked up, figuratively speaking, as Charles called Esa over to his station. oO Come on now Charles, let's not us have a falling out, kindly stay away from Ms Kiax. Oo Kiax: Of course, what have we got? He wasn't quite sure how to define his relationship with Charles. At times they had got on very well, working in near perfect sync, operating as if they had been serving for years together. Other times the two had very nearly come to blows. As childish as it seemed, he did feel a little pang of jealousy as he got her attention. Matthews: The electrical interference is on the fringes of the system, but it seems to encompass it entirely. And not only could it interfere with our shields; it may cause problems with more than just that. Transporters, long range communications, engines, weapons, scanners. Basically, anything with an electrical signal. We could enter the system and find ourselves adrift. Kiax: Hm… That certainly didn't sound good. They were some distance from the system, so it was possible that some of their sensor data was inaccurate and whilst it was possible for sensor data to be misinterpreted, especially given the sheer quantity of specific measurements their sensors could record, even if the sensor data were open to other interpretations or somehow faulty, detecting such issues already did not bode well for them. Kiax: Doesn’t sound like the kind of position we really want to be in, does it…? Using the opening he quickly gestured for someone to take his station as he moved over to stand between the vacant XO chair and the railing that housed the combined security and tactical station. For a moment he took a look at the chair he wouldn't mind making his one day, especially with Esa Kiax in the centre seat, from there he could more easily engage in conversation with the pair and he couldn't help but chime in, for a few reasons, firstly he was hoping they weren't going to run into issues, secondly and if he was being honest, possibly more importantly, he didn't want to miss out on an opportunity to join in the conversation. oO Stop hogging all her time and attention Charles, it's alright Esa, Christopher is here now. Oo In his head he heard a little musical cue that accompanied that. Caldwell: Are you sure it isn't just a faulty sensor? To result in all of that disruption, the only natural phenomena would be... what... a neutronic storm intersecting the system? But I'm sure we'd known if a neutron star exploded, right? Both as a result of his Academy training and since becoming the alpha shift helm officer, Christopher had a pretty decent knowledge of various navigational hazards including dangerous astronomical phenomena and had a pretty good track record during actual encounters . Neutronic storms were a type of plasma energy storm that could easily span many lightyears. They were often nothing more than an inconvenience, a smattering of highly charged particles and neutron radiation, a 'particle density anomaly', but the really big ones could generate wavefronts capable of moving at even high warp speeds and being so concentrated that it could take weeks to dissipate. oO But if it were a neutronic storm, what caused it? They were naturally occurring but they were relatively rare. Oo Matthews: That’s true. If it could do all that, it raises several more questions. Caldwell: It's a pretty damn short list of naturally occurring phenomena that could cause that, right? He was by no means a scientist and given how they liked to overcomplicate things, it could just be that there were in fact, many natural causes of the readings that Matthews was discussing. Kiax: Are you suggesting that it’s not a natural phenomenon? Matthews: Response He pivoted to allow Esa to more easily move past him as she returned to the centre seat. She looked contemplative, she looked quite cute as her brain worked. Kiax: I don’t think we should discount any possibility yet. We’re still four weeks out, with a lot of work ahead of us. It might be worth hooking up with Lieutenant Ral, and seeing what the two of you can come up with to fortify our power grid… ::Beat:: In the meantime, howeverrrr…. With a little dramatic flair he tilted his head and struck a pose as if he was waiting for the very secrets of the universe to be shared with him. Caldwell: ::Teasingly:: Use your words. She shot him a glare, and he quickly raised both palms apologetically, he'd had a look at Esa's bad side and he did not want to be on it. Kiax: Making decisions is harder than it looks, alright? ::Beat:: What about the Bussard collectors? Build some giant energy stores in the cargo bays, and use them like massive lightening rods to absorb and store the excess? Whilst he hadn't read the always thrilling 'Bussard Collection Field Operations' for sometime, he had done some work on the nacelles. Whilst primarily designed to collect hydrogen, they could be modified to collect a wide range of particles. Caldwell: If it is a plasma phenomena then the ramscoops could be reconfigured to try and collect some but it's going to be like ::pausing to think of an appropriate metaphor:: trying to drink an ocean through a straw. Matthews: Response Kiax: Alright then… Suggestions? I’m not in the position to approve or deny anything, but we’ll take whatever we have to the Captain when he’s back… Caldwell: Depending how localised all this is could we use the main deflector array? Cut ourselves a path through ::waving his hand:: whatever all that is? Matthews: Response Caldwell: You're right, we still don't have much to go on. Kiax / Matthews: Responses Caldwell: What about running a long range multiphasic scan? Might help penetrate ::once more waving his hand:: whatever all that is? oO Where are all the blue shirts when you actually need them? I should not be having to use words like these. Oo Kiax / Matthews: Responses ==========/\========== Lieutenant Christopher Caldwell Helm Officer USS Astraeus, NCC-70652

@Karrod Niac shows us here how to add character depth and some backstory while grounding the character in the present reality. A nice insight into the CO of the Ronin's past (bad!) behaviour!

Here we have a master-class in scene-setting and hinting at further things to come, from the always-amazing @Gila Sadar. It accomplishes everything it needs to, without being overly lengthy. Check it out!

When life takes you away from your space family, with unclear return time, any sim would automatically be a relief and a welcome surprise. Emma took it twelve steps further and delivered this absolute banger of a return. Emma, we love you, we adore you, and look forward to incurring your IC wrath upon return. Glad to see Ayemet stuck it to those goopy weirdos! 🦾 ((Unknown Sheliak Facility)) How long had it been? She wasn’t sure. Certainty had not been a companion ever since arriving on the Sheliak facility, if that was where she was. She had been taken to a lab her protests and attempts at reasoning with her captors falling on deaf ears, and within minutes had given in to the sedative administered to her bruised body.She had awoken in a cell, her head shaved, and a series of small metal plates inserted in her skull. She remembered that terror at her discovery. The coldness of the metal beneath her shaking fingers, the shudder of fear at the realisation that her capture was only the beginning. But the Khitomer would rescue her. Connor and the others would swoop in just before anything truly bad happened to her. Poor Connor. He would be so worried, but he would do his duty, all the time struggling with his emotions. It was a strange kind of comfort that someone out there was missing her, and not just Connor but Captain Shayne and the others on board the Khitomer. It was almost a relief from the almost never ending cycle of being taken from her cell to the lab and back again. Day after day after day. The Khitomer hadn’t arrived yet but they would before it got too bad. They would. She had fought at first, denied them the pleasure of her going quietly, refused to answer their questions, although she had got the strangest feeling that the act of interrogating her had been something of a performance, a window dressing to some other purpose, but any physical efforts at resistance were met with equal force. Eventually the violence and whatever they were doing to her mind took its’ toll and she allowed herself to be taken, to be experimented on, to be endlessly questioned. The Khitomer didn’t arrive. No help came, and Ayemet began to think that either they had been destroyed or they thought she had been. Numbness took over. Ritual took over from procedure. Days blended into each other and Ayemet began to focus on the small previously unnoticed details of what had now become her life; the time the guards arrived, the route they took, how many other Sheliak they encountered on their short journey to the lab. and how the guards were treated by the scientists. It amused her that they were looked down on , that they were viewed as little more than slaves themselves. They weren’t coming. No one was coming. With repetition came familiarity, and with familiarity came in attention. It became obvious to Ayemet that the beatings, the experiments now served no purpose, or if they did had not realised the results that the scientists had wanted. Now it was merely patterns repeated with theiR growing frustration. They became sloppy. In such a hurry that they paid little attention to her. No one was coming. If she was to survive she had to do something herself. Two guards. One either side. Firearms on their right side. The guard on her left held his phaser in his right hand. She was in no physical condition to fight one let alone two guards, but if she could get his phaser; they passed what appeared to be some sort of shuttle bay three minutes into their journey from cell to lab. Routine. Day after day. The time came for another session in the lab. They walked silently down the corridor. Her legs hurt, every part of her hurt. Her mouth was dry with anticipation. They were nearing the shuttle bay. Her heart beat faster. She made her move, grabbing left guard’s arm and twisting it round to face the guard on her right. There was a loud whine as a phaser fired, heat searing the side of her face, and chaos erupted. The guard to her right hit the floor with a dull thud, an acrid smell of burning flesh filling the corridor. Ayemet paid no attention to him, all her strength all her determination was focused on her struggle with left guard. Connor. She wanted to see Connor, to see all her friends. To talk to her Mom. There was a loud clatter as left guard’s phaser fell from his grasp and onto the deck. There was the briefest of moments as he looked at the gun whilst Ayemet dived for it, grabbing it and turning round as she squeezed the trigger. The guard slumped to the floor and Ayemet stumbled as she tried to get up, her legs felt like lead as she ran to the shuttle bay doors. They opened. She was so close. SO close, and then she heard the familiar whine of a phaser and felt an excruciating pain in her left leg. It couldn’t end like this; Connor. She wanted to see him again. She was limping as phasers fired. The shuttle door was there; right there. Another blast hit her as she reached the door…. TBC Lieutenant Jacin Ayemet Ship Counselor USS Khitomer NCC 62400 A239810JA2

Vio has been teasing Sbadni for the past few weeks and we've seen mentions of her, plus the odd sim but now, she's been fully revealed. Here is a masterclass from @Morro Caras on how to bring a character in, make them have one heck of an impact but also leave room for your fellow simmers to engage. I'm...also just a little scared of her.

((Deck 4 Personnel Transporter, USS Constitution-B, a short while ago)) While waiting for the rightfully suspicious transporter chief to perform the seemingly excessive amount of clearances and verifications they’d required before allowing Bosko to beam down to Hermes Station to rendezvous with Lieutenant Shimisi, Mylas decided to indulge in a bit of sentimentality. It was something he tried to limit himself to indulging in only during periods of high stress, but being sent on his first-ever assigned task on his first-ever starship during his first-ever mutiny seemed like it certainly qualified. Also he felt like he needed to be doing something narratively, and he had no flashback experiences on the Constitution to draw upon, nor understanding of the situation at hand to think about, so he did this instead. Just so he could be doing SOMETHING. From his uniform trouser pocket he produced a small portfolio of soft leathery material - a lovely printed and extruded vellum substitute that was exceedingly durable, in soft wine-red, the color of profit. Embossed on the front cover, in Zibalian script (similar to the ancient Iconian alphabet but of course much more marketable), in the lower left corner of the cover vertically, indicating great significance was a phrase that translated would read PRECIOUS MEMORIES. Inside the book was a simple soft-touch screen, with a matte finish and a nostaligic glow to it, and a tap brought said precious memories to the fore. Not of his family or anything, of course. That was silly. He remembered them just fine without need for any special devices. No, this was for something important; in here, lovingly categorized and beautifully cross-referenced, were high-resolution holo-images of every piece in his collection, with short descriptions. Bosko collected a great many things, but his specialization was probability tokens used for gaming; specifically dice, and variations thereof. Almost every culture on almost every world had some variation of a thing to throw or flip or drop or spin to generate random numbers analogically. He looked through a few of his favorites now, just to calm down. Gaming Collection Entry #8 - Azziz Organic Icosahedron - This beautiful specimen appears to be a standard 20-sided polygon, useful for a number of games, rituals and probability exercises, unique in particular because instead of being a carved or engineered geometric shape, it is a small organism, similar to a crustacean, whose carapace has been formed into the standard 20-sided geometric shape. The small entity within the shell appears to be asexual, and have no particular instincts aside from a desire to feed on dust mites and other micro-organisms commonly found on flat surfaces in inhabited areas. Requires a minimal supply of base proteins to survive in storage. (A feeding schedule is included in the note). The image is one of a pearlescent almost jewel-like 20-sided die with the nacreous look of an oyster shell, with 20 tiny almost translucent tendrils emerging from the bottom. Bosko barely had time to properly admire his little living die, one of the top 10 prides of his collection, and to remember that he had to make sure to feed and polish the little guy soon before the transport chief was finally satisfied with Bosko’s status as Bosko and not, seemingly, a bloodthirsty mutineer, and sent him down to the station. The Zibalian pocketed his book of precious memories as the cocoon of light wrapped him up. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Ensign Mylas Bosko HCO Officer USS Constitution-B NCC 9012-B C240110MB2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amazing SIM by @Morro Caras

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

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

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

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

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

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