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I love the worldbuilding @Vylaa has been doing during shore leave on Andoria, and with Vylaa and her family. This series gave some particular insight into Andorian culture, and Vylaa's feelings about it. Part 1: Public Display of Affection Part 2: Cotton Candy Galaxy Part 3: It Ain't Easy Being Blue

My level of love for the deep this character has, increase with every sim. I love Emzai and how she is the main character of her own story (( OOC - This is a long one, but I wanted to include the flashback scene)) ((Outside the Administration Center, Landing City, Grus Beta Three.)) Emzai walked towards the Administration Centre and a sense of trepidation fell over her with every step she took. The dust hung in the air, and ash fell on them like snowdrops. She looked to the window of her office and the much smaller one beside it, the room within was where Kipal lay; bound. ((Flashback Scene - Several Months Before, Emzai and Kipal Home, Mountain District, Grus Beta Three)) The house was large and spacious, decorated tastefully with antiques and artefacts from across the galaxy. They had been carefully chosen by Emzai, and placed so that each item caught the eye no matter where you would be located in the house. Maximum enjoyment and commitment to beauty. Of course the house itself was no exception. It occupied a vista in the mountain, with uninterrupted views of Landing City below, each window offered a vestige of wondrous beauty. Emzai stood at one of the windows, as she often liked to do, to watch the sunset over the city. Tonight her thoughts were plagued with a growing concern about Kipal. He had become withdrawn from her, and she found herself wondering about the blackouts she had been experiencing. Kipal would tell her it was due to stress, the Sheliak had placed a significant amount of pressure on them to mine for Maleconite. Kipal: Adun’a* are you well? His voice denied any emotion, as was the way of a Vulcan, although she knew him well enough to hear the subtle inflection of concern in the way in which he spoke. Emzai: I can't remember … Emzai turned to her husband and he moved to stand close to her. She moved towards him and rested her hands on his chest. It was a simple act, something she had done many times before. Kipal: Perhaps you should retire to your chamber early this evening? Emzai: I'm not tired, Kipal :: looks him dead in the eye :: I think you're lying to me. Kipal: :: eyebrow raise :: As you are aware Vulcans cannot lie. Emzai: :: lifts her head to him :: That's a lie. Kipal frowned at that. Emzai: You choose not to, it's a principle, yet you are capable of lying. Vulcans lie just like anyone else. Kipal: What is the meaning of this conversation, Emzai? Emzai: I want to meld with you. Kipal took a step back and surveyed his wife carefully before he nodded. She placed her hands on the sides of his head, and he did the same. Kipal: My mind to your mind. Your thoughts to my thoughts. Our minds are merging, our minds are becoming one. Emzai inhaled a breath as she felt his thoughts crash into her own. It felt like she was plunged into a deep ocean. There was a flood of memories, dreams, words and thoughts. She felt for him amongst it, and he was there. His arms outstretched. She could feel the pull of his katra, it threatened to dominate her and take over. This time she wouldn't allow it. His mind was powerful and if she wasn't El-Aurian she'd have never been able to resist him. Yet she did. She needed to know. There was a dark cloud that enveloped around them and she could see Kipal call out to her, except no sound came from his mouth. She walked into the cloud and emerged into a memory … It was a discussion between them both. The day she signed the agreement with the Sheliak for the Maleconite contract. Emzai: I'll never sign that agreement, Kipal. You can find another way to continue your experiment. I'm sure there is - Kipal: There is no other way. You are being illogical. You are allowing emotion - Emzai: Emotion! I don't think you understand what you ask? This agreement will give them unfettered access to the mines and … this order … it's too large. We'd be putting every single person on this planet in danger. Maleconite it was only intended to power the cities and the towns, not for this … Kipal: We came to this world for a reason. It was a logical choice. This is the natural evolution of that choice. My work is the most important work in the galaxy and in order for me to continue I need the compound that the Sheliak can provide. It is not logical to turn back. Emzai: We didn't come here to use these people like specimens in a lab. I didn't come here for that. I came here to make a home for us, and the children. After the blight you promised that was the end of it. Kipal pulled her towards him and grabbed her violently into a meld. She watched herself, in the memory, struggle against him. It lasted for seconds. Then. Kipal: Are you feeling better? Emzai: :: confused :: I … yes. My head … What was I saying? Kipal: You were telling me that the agreement with the Sheliak is approved. Emzai: … I was? :: sure :: Yes, I was. It's important. More memories came through, each time that he'd performed this function. How he changed her. Violated her, time and again. With each memory, a fury rose in her and the memories intersected with her own. Screams in green lit chambers of horror. A breath on her neck. Blood on her hands. Snippets of a lifetime of terror. Things she'd needed to do to survive. She screamed, her thoughts became claws that struck out and tore at Kipal. She felt his mind contort, he tried to resist the anger that she pushed into him. It was too powerful and he was consumed in rage. She felt it rush back towards her and she pulled herself away, breaking the meld. Emzai stumbled backwards, she had returned to her home. Kipal lay on the floor, he turned to her and she could see the violence in his eyes. ((End flashback)) Beck: ♫ Do mi sol do do sol mi do! Every truly cultured music stu, dent, knows ♫ Beep beep Beep beep Beep. Went Beck's tricorder. Beck: ♫ You must learn your scales and your arpe, ggi, os ♫ Carpenter: Why that song? Because you're a laaaaady, that's why? Emzai: :: looks to the building:: We're almost there. Perhaps we should behave in an adult-like fashion. Kos: RESPONSE Beck: Everyone's a critic. C'est la vie. ::switching back to active scanning:: Do the tunnels run underneath the entire city? And is there maleconite stored everywhere down there? I'm having some trouble getting clear scans. Carpenter: Same here. It's like we can tell it's hollow, but nothin' else further. Emzai: That's hardly surprising given the situation. Kos: RESPONSE The good doctor, true to his nature decided to interfere some more. Beck: Kos. ::sidling up next to him:: I know you don't have a lot of reason to trust me, but would you allow me to scan you? You said you worked in the mines before, I'd like to check something out… Kos: RESPONSE Emzai crossed her arms in frustration. Emzai: Can't we do this inside? Kos is perfectly healthy. My husband on the other hand … Carpenter: Now, hang on there, Doc Beck might be onto something. Prolonged exposure is no joke… Emzai had just about had it with this human woman. She shot a look to Drisila who stepped inches closer to her. Once they were inside, she would split them up. They'd be able to deal with that way. Beck: RESPONSE Emzai: I'm going inside, how Starfleet gets anything done is beyond me. Emzai walked at a brisk pace into the building. Carpenter: Still right behind ya. Beck/Kos: RESPONSE ((Administrators Office, Landing City, Grus Beta Three.)) They all gathered in her office again. Where she had initially met them. Perhaps this is where it would end. For all of them. She felt a pang of sympathy for the young officers. Her own children, those she gave birth to, were much older than these and she felt the loss of them so keenly, even now all these hundreds of years later. oO will they have mother's that would mourn them? Oo Emzai: Doctor I'd appreciate it if you come alone to tend to Kipal? :: to Kos :: If you don't mind, I'll call for you once the doctor has finished. Beck/Kos/Carpenter: Response Emzai: Very well :: to Carpenter :: Help yourself to a beverage. Emzai escorted the doctor to the small room adjacent to her office. She opened the door and stepped inside and beckoned the doctor in. Tags/TBC Administrator Emzai Grus Beta Three A240004LL2 -- Lt JG Luxa Lorana Science Officer USS Ronin A240004LL2

Just love this sim from @Evan Ross. Something so realistic and relatable about it. (( Starbase 118 - The Dungeon - Mundok's Bar )) It was great to hear that Russell's family was doing well. Ross didn't find it easy to imagine his stoic Captain in retirement - but Cross would probably find a way to keep busy. Ross wouldn't mind to switch places actually - he adored how driven Russell was in approaching his career, but there was a reason he had never gotten higher than First Officer in one or two shipments. Also there was no family awaiting his pension - he was still on his own. Cross: Nothing wrong with that. You will figure it out in time right? Time is still very much on your side. Ross: ::chuckling:: You tell me. Everybody seemed to talk about his love life today - the topic had come up with Rustyy just an hour ago. Did he radiate acute loneliness or something? Ross took a sip from his ale, but Cross had no intention of changing the subject. Cross: What about Commander McLaren? Is she single? She seems right up your reality with the Intel prowess. Perhaps she could teach you a thing or two. That made him choke on his drink. For a moment Ross simply stared at Russell in disbelief - Ross: She's my boss, pal. Not to mention that he was still deadly afraid of her, and definitely not playing in her league. It took him another second to realise that Russell was only messing with him. When he heard him chuckle, Ross rolled his eyes and sunk back in his chair. Cross: You do you my man. I’m just saying, there are plenty of options out there for you buddy. Ross: You had me there for a second. ::lightly punching Russell's shoulder:: Should have told me back in the day you see no problem in dating a superior. I would have taken you out for a drink earlier. Now it was him who was joking - and something in their banter felt so painfully familiar that Ross actually started missing their shared adventures for a moment. Most of their trips had been uneventful deliveries, a lot of waiting and checking boxes - but in between those routines, they had shared a sense of companionship which had left a hole somewhere deep inside him ever since he had left the Centurion behind. There had been a common ground. A sense of belonging. Us against the world, come fleet come engine failure. Cross: ? Ross: I just want you to know - serving under your command, it meant a lot to me. All this, it's... ::hesitating, gesturing vaguely:: It's still strange to me. Doesn't sit quite right. It felt like a dream sometimes - a little too shiny to actually believe it. His smile faded. Cross: ? Ross: I know, I know. It's what I wanted. And it's great. But if you ever get bored with retirement... ::he winked:: Give me a call, promise? Cross: ? They clinked glasses on that. Ross smiled and took a deep breath - the Centurion's arrival had put a lot of things into question this morning and he still wasn't sure if he had answers for them. If anything, Russell's call from the past had reminded him where he was from. A world much less shiny, grim for many parts - a world in which he had envied shiny Starfleet Utopia and despised it at the same time. He still had to find his path through this gleaming new reality - and he still had to figure out how to stop feeling like a stain. But those were problems for another day. When he ordered another drink for them, he knew Cross would erase any doubts for the next few hours. Tomorrow was a new day - and their friendship stood renewed another time. End of Scene for Ross Ensign Evan Ross Intelligence Officer StarBase 118 Ops O240009ER2

Love the introspective narrative in this sim from @Drex0379. ((Hospital Deck 120, Lightside Station)) Thanks to the intervention of the Talarian doctor, the unexpected detention of the three Starfleet officers lasted only a few minutes. A few minutes enough to make it clear, at least to Drex, that the station's crew must not have thought very highly of the Federation or Starfleet, or at least that they were doing fine on their own and did not welcome their visits. As their guide led the way to a more private office, Drex decided to let the lieutenants do the talking. And he was glad when the conversation shifted from himself to the hospital's capabilities and the teams working there. Samar: We’ve got just enough to cover the needs of the station’s usual population, although the hospital staff are often short-handed during busier times. You know how it is. Raimor: I’m sure that it takes a lot of work to get that many scientists pulling in the same direction. Drex followed the three doctors keeping in the rear, a couple of steps behind them. He focused on the Talarian woman, wondering, in curiosity, how she managed to become the Chief Geneticist on the Spike. Was something she fought for herself or was her father who moved away from the tradition giving the daughter the opportunity to improve her condition and success? Either case, Drex was sure she would not be able to return to her homeworld and adapt back to the limitations her culture imposed on females. Vahin: Please lead the way. I must say, your facilities here are quite impressive. Samar simply shrugged and continued to lead the group down the corridors. Raimor: Hopefully, we will have everything that we need. Lost in his thoughts about Talarians, Drex was putting little attention to the talking, but he gazed at Raimor a little bit in confusion. Were they going to use the station facilities to work on the anti-toxin? They moved through the administration wing. There were a lot of staff about as usual, but they all seemed far to busy with their own concerns to pay them any attention. Vahin: I wasn’t expecting to find a geneticist here. I assumed this was just a hospital for treating the station’s population. Is a lot of research carried out on Lightside Station? Samar: You’d be surprised. Raimor: What are you working on right now, if you don’t mind me asking? It looks like your staff is quite busy at the moment. The unusual reaction to our arrival causes me to wonder… Drex slowed his pace and took a look at the medical staff. The place was not so different from any other hospital he had visited. Not that he had visited many, fortunately, just a couple back at home when he was a little bit older than a kid, and the one at the Academy, when Dag’Har ended up in the ER with a broken arm after one of his dummy bets. The Talarian doctor sighed and came to a stop. To Drex, she sounded quite unpleasant when she talked. Samar: I’m sorry, but that’s not something you need to know. This is an independent station, and my clients value their privacy. I’m sure you understand. Raimor: Of course. I don’t mean any offense, Doctor, just wanted to know if there is anything that could interfere with our work. Vahin: Response Clients. She did not say patients. Client was a strange word to indicate someone who needs medical attention. Clients sound more of someone paying for specific research. And she was a geneticist. Drex looked around, half hoping to spot something that would indicate the type of research and experiments were taking place. But there were no guinea pigs or screens with visible data to allow him any guesses. The station and the Talarians were not aligned with the Federation, the rules and ethics of the Federation did not apply here, and Drex could not exclude that the toxin that had arrived on Denali, and which they now feared would affect the Spike, had not actually been created here. Samar: I’ll be sure to let you know if there is. Samar stepped through the cleansing field that guarded the threshold to the Chief Medical Officers private laboratory, before pausing to make sure all the officers had followed her. Samar: This is the Chief Medical Officers private lab. ::pointing at a large partitioned off area:: His office is just over there. Vahin/ Raimor: Response Drex: I hope the Chief Medical Officer is waiting for us :: A slightly smile bond his lips :: oO I would like to avoid ending up in a cage again Oo Samar made a beeline for the office door. Samar: No. I’m afraid he passed away recently. Vahin/ Raimor: Response From the tone she used, it seemed to Drex that the CMO’s death was a sudden and unexpected event. Drex: Sorry to hear about it :: he murmured :: Arriving at the officer door she paused and bent down slightly to swipe her pass on the access panel. After a moment the door unlocked with a barely audible click before sliding open. Samar: ::stepping inside the office:: Food poisoning. He had an allergic reaction to something he purchased at the underground market. Drex: Forgive my curiosity, but what race was the doctor? Vahin/ Raimor: Response Samar lowered herself into the CMO’s chair and gestured that the Starfleet officers were also welcome to sit. Samar: You’d need to speak to station security about that, but I'd recommend you only eat things that have come from a replicator. Now, what is it you want to discuss? Drex waited for the others to sit before getting a chair for himself. He was there to listen and give advice if required. As far as he could see, the hospital was state of the art, but it hadn't been the cure for a man's allergy. And the staff did not want to talk about that. Drex: Maybe we should alert the Commodore about the dangers of the market, what do you think? :: He asked to both the medical officers :: Vahin/ Raimor: Response Drex: I’ll send a message. The Denobulan officer picked up his PADD and typed a short message about the food and the replicator. He sent it to Commander DeVeau, as she was his immediate superior officer. Vahin/ Raimor/ Samar: Response Drex recalled the notes on his PADD. He knew them by heart, but the way the doctors presented the facts to Samar gave him a new perspective, and Samar's answers also gave him something new to think about. Vahin/ Raimor/ Samar: Response Drex: It's not something to underestimate. We have no certainties, but the most probable hypothesis is that the next attempt is here. Vahin/ Raimor/ Samar: Response TAG/TBC ============ Ensign Drex Science Officer Denali Station D240011D14

Loving @Araxxu Vahin’s portrayal of Tridiatt Ken (A.K.A. Mr. Fox.) ((Interrogation Room, Federation Penal Ship Hobart)) For a moment Tridiatt Ken was lost in the past. He saw ships bursting in the skies above Caradassia. He saw the bolts from his phase-disrupter killing his enemies. He saw those he loved die beside him. Ton: Of course, we all served. I did what I had to. Fox: I remember those days well. Nothing could stand in our way. We almost had you. ::he sighs:: And then we lost it all. Ton: Lost is probably the key word there. Times change, and you can remain lost in the past - or help yourself. Fox: ::he looks down:: Perhaps I’m getting too old for this. ::he looks up and into Ton’s eyes:: From one old solider to another. Sweeten the deal, and perhaps I can help you out. Ton: Are you aware that some of the cells on this ship have windows? He sat up straighter as Ton spoke and realised he had let himself drift too far into the past. That damn Trill was right. Those days were over and mattered little to the issue at hand. For good or bad he was Mr. Fox now and he needed to ignore the past and make the present better. Fox: A view would be nice. What size are they? Ton: Approximately 50 centimeters by 50 centimeters. He looked down at the offered PADD and took in the schematics. It was always good to have a better idea of what the cage you lived in was like. He tried his best to memorize the schematics in the short time he was able to look at them. One never knew when that kind of information would come in handy. Fox: That is quite an upgrade…for a cage. And how does one go about getting a nicer cage? Ton: I convince the Warden you are not a threat to the order of his ship. Fox: And I suppose I prove this by giving you names? Ton: Response He shook his head and laughed. Mr Fox: Well it is not the first time I was a traitor. Though turning against the Dominion did have a certain chivalry that this act lacks. Yet, I’m sure my new associates would turn against me if they were in my place. oO Which they’re not, because they weren’t foolish enough to get captured.Oo And to be honest he cared very little about those he had hired to smuggle the toxin off of Denali. Dangling them in front of the Federation in order to improve his own situation didn’t bother him much. What did bother him was the target it might paint on his back if his associates knew it was him who had betrayed them. Mr Fox: ::sigh:: What do you need from me? Ton: Response Mr Fox: ::chuckles:: Is that all? You don’t want my first born as well? Ton: Response TAG, TBC <><><><><><><><><><><> Mr Fox as simmed by Lt Jg Araxxu Vahin Medical Denali Station D240006AV3

A true joy is giving out MSNPC assignments with very little in the way of detail and then watching what talented writers decide to go and do with them. @LuxaLorana has been delighting the Ronin with her completely innocent/deeply suspicious colonial administrator for weeks now - we're lucky to have her. Although we may have to shoot this woman at some point. ((Aerodrome, Temporary Medical Outpost, Landing City, Grus Beta Three.)) Emzai resisted a smile as the doctor and the nurse blundered about, she barely acknowledged them. Healers, especially the Starfleet variety, did not pose a threat to her. They'd perform the roles she'd mapped out on her head. She realised that they mistrusted her and that it wouldn't be long before they worked out what had been going on here. And her apparent involvement, and Kipal had ensured that she was involved, at least on paper. The tall human woman, she was one that required consideration. As well as the Andorian, Kos, a constant annoyance. Hardly a threat though. Either of them. Carpenter: Administrator… Carpenter: Finally comin' to render that "full support" you promised us? Emzai: :: indicates the crowd and then the enforcers :: I suggest you unhand our people :: to the crowd :: Starfleet have come here, under the guise of peace. Desperate, on our knees, and they came like they did before, and they brought with them phasers and a battleship. They can't heal our world, or our people. Instead they fire weapons from the skies, they destroyed several of our homes! They brought the fire so they could reclaim our world in their war! They done it before :: to a man:: Jesa, they left your planet to the Cardassians and then to the Dominion. What became of it? Grandstanding always made her feel tacky. It was the lowest form of baiting. It was further evidence that she had now resorted to tactics that were beneath her. It was necessary for her to have an audience for this next part. The results were almost immediate. She observed the ebb of the crowd swell, the rustle of anger spread like a virus. Jesa: Starfleet … they have an outpost there … Emzai: They turned his home to the enemy and then into an outpost for themselves. Emzai ensured that her voice cracked slightly, a display of emotion that she knew would illicit a reaction, as rare as it was for her to appear weak. She needed them to see her falter. They needed weakness from her now, and she'd give them that. She'd become the tireless leader, the woman under pressure. Out of her depth. Emotional. Clairis stepped forward and spat at them. Emzai was impressed by the sheer force of it, and raised a hand as if she meant to stop her. The good doctor took it on the face, without flinching. Emzai made a display of crying out in shock and pulled Clairis back. A show for the crowd and for the officers. Kos: That's enough Emzai you ridiculous klahz**. ::surveying the crowd:: Every one of you knows Emzai would sell you out for a song. Emzai raised a hand to her mouth, and looked to the crowd. She allowed a faux tear to fall. Their resolve faltered, the situation wasn't as solid as she'd anticipated and now a little fear crept into her own demeanour. Emzai: :: pathetic faux whine :: That's not true! :: turns to face the crowd :: I've always been here have I not? :: looks to Clairis :: Didn't I baptise your child in the springs? :: allows her voice to croak :: I danced with you all at the harvest festival not a season ago! Carpenter: T-thank you, sir. And despite our...disagreement earlier. I've played straight with you. ::she shouts toward Crowd:: Toward everyone! ::she whirls on Emzai and her party:: Can your Administrator say the same? The Andorian snorted deeply. Emzai felt Clairis hand on her shoulder, it appeared to be turning around again in her favour. Starfleet's obstinate declarations only turned them in her favour, although she knew that she needed the tide to remain balance. She needed their help. Kos: ::batting his eyes at Carpenter:: Don't flatter yourself darlin'. You're a tall drink of water, but I don't like Starfleet any better than saggy butt here ::pause:: In this case I'll take the devil with the better assets. She heard the crowd mutter. Annoyed with Kos as much as she was. Beck: Not to belabor the point, guys, but uh… we're rapidly running out of time to help treat any of you, let alone evacuate you so you don't… y'know… die in the fire. I don't know what's going on between you all, but personally I think we could all stand to put our differences aside at least long enough to stay alive. Good. The Doctor had his uses. She moved towards him and grabbed his arms, her eyes pierced into his own. Her true nature hidden by the guise of a desperate woman. Emzai: :: panicked :: Why would you fire on us?! What have we done to you? :: desperate :: We just wanted you to help us?! Carpenter: Then WHY are you making this harder?! Showing up to a TRIAGE CENTER with drawn weapons?! Setting containers of unstable and psychoactive ore around CIVILIANS?! Just what's your game, lady?! Emzai wanted to smile, the chief was moving into the exact position she wanted her in. Instead she cowered, and raised a frightened arm.. Drisila stepped forward as if to care for her. The crowd tensed, their was jibes and insults thrown. The Andorian had one other comment himself. Kos: ::Narrowing his eyes:: Keep this in mind Drisila. You can't wake the bear and not expect to tango. Drisila shot him a look. Emzai squeezed her arm to keep her focused on the task at hand. He seemed to narrow his eyes in confusion. But he left the comment as it laid. Emzai: :: looks to Beck :: Please, don't hurt us anymore. Then she allowed herself to cry, she gave them the performance the crowd needed. A woman broken. Defeated. She fell to her knees. Something she never thought she'd do. Their was gasps behind her. Carpenter: It's not just here. It's inside the planet itself. But then again, you probably knew that already, didn't you? Emzai shook her head violently, her hair fell from its perfectly styled chignon and tumbled around her shoulders. The more belligerent the Chief was the more the crowd sympathised with Emzai. She seemed at the Chiefs feet. Beck indicated toward the blown out tunnel in the Aerodrome alcove. Beck: That there is the danger right now - that maleconite you've all been mining, it's not just a mineral. It's reactive, it's dangerous, and it's poisonous. I don't know how long you've been mining it, but I would stake my life and my commission that it's been having some long-term effects on… all of you. Perfect. The crowd cried out. This was their life, the Maleconite had given them freedom and prosperity. They all had their hand in it. Emzai had believed it was a blessing, a rarity that they were able to refine it and it granted them freedom. Freedom from the Federation, and the rest. Except when it became a trap. A trap that none of them knew they were in. Laid out perfectly by Kipal, Droz and the Lattice Alliance. She suspected many others. Emzai had tried to stop them, she truly had. Yet, it was too late. The damage had been done. Starfleet would be next, and Emzai just needed to get as far away from it all as possible. One of those Starfleet runabouts would do the trick. Emzai: :: sobs :: Save us Doctor, please. Kos: Response Carpenter: Oh, for-...Nurse Rox, please recruit some of my people and start setting up air scrubbers throughout the parameter. If we can't clean the air out there, let's at least try and clean some up in here. Rox: RESPONSE Kirsty clomped back toward the alcove, drawing once more her tricorder and shooting a quieting finger (but not the one she REALLY wanted) toward the sputtering Emzai. She took some cursory scans of the inside of the blown out entryway. Higher ambient temperature for sure. Direction was right too. The tunnel wound away toward the range of Kite Springs. Emzai: :: stifling tears :: That's the storage, for the ore. There's an emergency release, it would nullify the Maleconite by burying it under the Earth. I can take you and show you how? Emzai had no intention of going into those tunnels. Truth was she'd never set foot in one of them. Dirty, dark and miserable places. Carpenter: Here's what's REALLY going to happen. Nurse Rox and her medics are going to continue to help those that need it here, with or without your help. Meanwhile, me and Beck are gonna go help the rest of our crew save your frakkin' planet an' people from the FIRE currently eating through it from the inside out. Perfect. The woman turned forward slightly, squaring up her shoulders (fully aware and hopeful in Crowd's rapt silence). Carpenter: Are you goin' to stop us? Emzai: :: to the crowd:: Do as she says. We have no choice. They've made that clear. :: cries :: I just hope it's not too late. The crowd rumbled at this, there were cries of protest from those that held a deeper mistrust of Starfleet. No doubt visions of uniformed officers forcibly removing them from the DMZ. To them it must seem it's all happening again. Kos/Beck/RoxCarpenter: RESPONSE Emzai: :: to a random child :: Go on little one. We must leave, Starfleet demands it of us :: to Carpenter :: I must retrieve Kipal. Kos/Beck/Rox/Carpenter: RESPONSE Emzai: What? For a split second the facade dropped, the steel returned to her eyes. Kos/Beck/Rox/Carpenter: RESPONSE Emzai: Uhm sure I can show you … of course. -- Lt JG Luxa Lorana Science Officer USS Ronin A240004LL2

@VLen Kel knocked it out of the park with all of this

The way @Kali Nicholotti weaves together our current mission briefing and the Adyr symbiont's past life is masterful, and a joy to read. I'm on the edge of my seat in anticipation of the next installment!

So many great shore leave scenes happening on Ops at the moment, but as a fan of the Film Noir genre, this one between @Evan Ross and @Corey Wethern has especially got me hooked! ((Holosuite - Flamingo Club)) Thick, heavy drops of water dripping from every roof and canopy - the weather was incredibly atmospheric. Perfectly fitting for a noir crime story. But the thing with rain was also this: it crept under your collar and made you shiver, no matter if holo or real. Ross shrugged and buried his chin deeply into his collar while listening to Corey's plan. Maybe it wasn't too bad after all to live on a station with artificial weather. He regretted not taking a hat. Wethern: Hmm maybe I can cause a distraction let you do a little bit of digging with the high class clientele. Ross: Remember tonight's the night. All the big names from town are in for the annual Poker. If her husband is really such a gambler, he wouldn't miss this for sure. Wethern: You think he has just skipped the broad to win his hand at cards? Ross: All I'm saying is - if he doesn't show, something's wrong. But maybe his wife's just overly worried and we'll meet him at the big table. Wethern: I don't know, she seemed pretty sure. Anyway slick lets go inside, this rain is making me more slippery than a Ferengi. Ross chuckled and shook his head at that remark - and then decided to stay in character. Ross: You're speaking in riddles, my friend. Corey approached the door as the bouncer nodded obviously recognising Ross. Bouncer: You here to lose more money Ross? Ross: ::grimacing:: You bet. I see you more than my wife these days. The bouncer laughed and Corey slipped some cash in his pocket as he dutifully opened the red velvet rope. The Down Under Club greeted them with the usual smokey air - the sombre voice from the lonely singer lulled them into a perfume fuelled trance and Ross immediately took a deep breath as if he was about to drown. Wethern: ::to a waitress:: Scotch neat please, and make it a double. ::Turning back to Ross:: What now slick? We are in your world. Ross: ::gazing through the room:: You should keep your head down. Once they take you for a cop they will think you're patrolling or something. Maybe stay at the bar, keep an eye on the ladies. He winked, but was only half-joking - at the other side of the counter, two younger women were sitting and sticking their heads together. No matter how bored they looked - he was sure they knew exactly what was going on in the room. Wethern: ? Ross: Please try to stay low, pal. Wethern: ? Ross tipped his head, straightened his wet hair and turned towards one of the smaller Poker tables, by now buzzing with excitement. ((Short Timeskip)) A little while later he was deep into a round of Poker, his hand not looking particularly good - but he wasn't here for the game anyways, or at least he tried to tell himself that. Next to him sat a sturdy man with a moustache that didn't seem much happier. Ross: No luck? Grisham: Eh. Bleeding. Bet those cards are rigged anyways. Ross: You think so? Grisham: Club isn't the same anymore. Can't trust these crooks nowadays. Ross sank back into his chair, waving lightly in order to call the bet. He was almost out of his self-set limits. Always the same. Ross: A lot of trouble lately, I hear. Haven't seen Horace in a while. Grisham: Ha! ::chuffing:: Horace, you say? Ross: Heard anything? Grisham: You haven't? Big trouble. With them guys from the backdoors. Wait - ::narrowing his eyes:: You're not with the cops, are ya, son? Ross: Come on. He chuckled, but it was time to end this conversation. He was on thin ice already - and his chips were nearly gone. The ante was way too high - in various ways. He slid a few chips over the table towards his new friend, pocketing what was left, and turned to return to Corey at the bar. Ross: So? What do you make of this? Wethern: ? Ensign Evan Ross Intelligence Officer StarBase 118 Ops O240009ER2

((The Starboard Bow, Deck 6, USS Arrow)) Lieutenant Hobart let go of Lieutenant Ohnari's hand and gestured towards the window of the Starboard Bow, sloping up and out along the Arrow’s belly. Without any significant atmosphere between their eyes and the stars, there was no twinkle. They simply burned mercilessly bright pinholes of light, steady and unyielding, through a pitch black canvas. Hobart: There’s a war coming. Could be here any day. We’re not on the frontline, we are the frontline. The Sheliak are coming with their new friends, and they view us all as vermin. You’re our Chief Medical Officer—"Acting" or otherwise—and you’re about to be elbow-deep in blood. ::beat:: You’re going to need to remember those puppies on that beach, but for me that doesn’t work. You didn’t offend me. ::placing both hands on her shoulders:: I’m working on a project with Connor, and whether it ever actually helps win the war or not, it helps me. That’s why I left the holodeck. I was getting ready. ::beat:: For what's coming. So... I'm sorry for makin' you worry. When he finished speaking, Nolen sensed the bouquet of emotions competing for the spotlight in Ohnari's mind. He couldn't be sure which of them won out, but an instant later she had wrapped her arms around him and buried her head in his shoulder. He felt, through the shoulder of his dress uniform, the gentle tug of air pulled past his neck as she inhaled, and the warm gust as her lungs let go again. He couldn't imagine what it looked like to the rest of the Starboard Bow, but, then again, he didn't care to try. Whether it be relief that she was wrong about him, or anticipatory grief for the days, weeks, months, or even years to come, Talia needed the hug, and as much a trickster as he could be, Hobart couldn't deny it to her. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and the other up across her shoulders, his fingers weaving between her raven locks, his palm cradling the back of her head. Ohnari: ::muffled:: I think we're both a little weird sometimes... Hobart: ::chuckling:: We're weird a lot of the time… ::sigh:: but only weirdos join Starfleet. He'd said it before. In a post-scarcity society, where you could do and be anything you want and never have to worry about the necessities of life, it took a special kind of misfit to volunteer for service in Starfleet. Even on a barren backwater like Relva VIII, Nolen could have gone anywhere else. But he'd never have fit in anywhere else. At least here, they were all not fitting in together. Ohnari: ::turning her face so she wasn't muffled:: And whatever is coming… ::unconsciously squeezing tighter for a moment:: We'll face it. Hobart: ::softly, looking around at the celebration:: Call me the fly in the ointment, I guess. Didn't mean to ruin your big night. Ohnari: No… it makes sense. In a twisted, "Of course this is happening" sort of way. ::taking a deep breath:: Sickbay will be ready. And if you and Connor have anything to do with it, the Arrow will be running like she's brand new. Without realizing it, they'd started rocking. If they were clever, they could probably play it off as dancing. Of course, given the set list for the night, they'd have to each pretend to be rhythm-impaired. And if Nolen wasn't transferred, that would be a charade they'd have to carry on for a conceivably long time. But apparently neither one of them was feeling especially clever, because rather than lean into it, they simultaneously froze, in realization. The comforting hug had started to transform into something different and regardless of whether they were prepared to acknowledge it to themselves and each other, they were certainly unprepared to acknowledge it to the crowded room they edged. Hobart: Uh… Wubber? Ohnari: ::smallishly:: We're still hugging, aren't we? Hobart: Technically. Ohnari: It's getting weird, isn't it? He twisted his head to the side in consideration. "Weird" was a relative thing, and given that it was the two of them tangled in each other's arms… Hobart: In fairness, it started weird. Ohnari: Count of three, we break and never speak of it again. Before he could get in another quip, she pushed off him, winding up nearly a pandemic’s spacing apart. He instinctively straightened out his white jacket as he watched her fall away. Ohnari: ::stern parting nod:: Lieutenant Hobart. And with that, she turned and headed straight for the bar. Heaven help anyone in her way, thought the Betazoid hybrid. He watched her go, hips swaying beneath her dark gown, delicate chains across her back still twinkling. Hobart: ::slow nod, softly to self:: Talia. “Never speak of it again.” Yeah, that was probably for the best. NT/End for Hobart ——— Lieutenant Nolen Hobart Engineering Officer USS Arrow (NCC-69829) A240001NH3

Illogical Space Girlfriend Alert! Fun, short JP with @Zenno, @Talia Ohnari, and a cameo by @Kali Nicholotti:

There are too many reason for this to be appreciated. From @Addison MacKenzie description, to @Gila Sadar reaction it really is a great reading. But honestly it is the opportunity to tease @Gila Sadar who secretly aspired to be in the Harry Kim Club (or Ensigns Forever Group) and again tell you: Hit the Sickbay Doc You ain't an Ensign no more, no more, no more

Meant to post this a few days ago. Another brilliant shore leave scene between @Vitor S. Silveira and @Sal Taybrim. ((StarBase 118, Promenade, Donut Worry )) Tito had ended up in, of all places, in a donut shop. To his surprise, considering how early in the early morning it was, Sal joined him. Tito told him about his recent visit to Sil and how it was affecting him. Tito leaned back. He tipped his head, as he avoided Sal's eyes. Besides the guilt and the fear, now he was also ashamed. Tito: I feel… Guilty. I mean, my life isn't perfect but… Even if we are a quadrant apart my relationship with Taisa is strong. I miss Arys, and Egil, but I am getting along much better with others… ::he smirked looking back at Sal:: At least that's what it feels like. I am on a department a little clear from the action and the field I always loved since I was a kid… He paused, opening his arms, shrugging. Tito: My life got back on track. Why did Sil's have to take that down turn? I couldn't… I didn't even tell him about Taisa. It felt wrong after what he's been through. Sal leaned forward. Taybrim: Your good fortune doesn’t mean Sil’s ill fortune. There is enough good fortune in the universe for everyone, especially the both of you. And I would emphasize that you are part of Sil’s good fortune, despite his bad times. You were there for him and came through for him. As for why? I ask that of the universe myself. And I don’t have an answer on why the universe is cruel. Only that it’s not your fault. Or my fault. Or Sil’s fault. It just exists and we have to endure it. Tito nodded. Sal proved himself again. Not only was he a caring friend and CO, he was also wise and pondered. He smiled, leaning forward, taking his half eaten donut in his fingers. Tito: However, in all this I came to realise something. I have a very scientific approach to donuts now. Taybrim: Oh? Do tell. Tito: Donuts are simple. Just cake around a hole. Sal smiled. Taybrim: I think that’s a philosophical approach rather than a scientific one. Tito frowned even if he was still smiling. Tito: Really? In Human Classical culture Philosophy was considered the Science of Sciences. But do you think my observation can be extrapolated in such a matter? Taybrim: The philosophy of donuts? Hm. I suppose we could find some truth in that. Tito: That is one of the goals of philosophy, but go on. Sal raised his doughnut, as if he was observing it. Tito was curious to see what would be his reply. He took a bit from his own donut as he listened to Sal. Taybrim: Alright, here’s mine. I think the smooth frosted donuts are fine, but the imperfect ones, the rough ones are all the more delicious for their texture. Tito finished chewing and nodded. Tito: Now that to me is a scientific observation. Although, like my observation, it can have a deeper meaning. Taybrim: Aright, what’s yours? Tito raised an eyebrow and tipped his head. Tito: Mine? I don’t think I can make a correct dissertation. Sal leaned forward with a soft smile. Taybrim: I don’t think there’s any right or wrong answers in philosophy. Just an attempt to reach some sort of realization that helps you move forward with your day. Tito: I might have to make a revelation first. Taybrim: Response Tito leaned back, making himself more comfortable. Curiously speaking with Sal was making him move forward from his early feelings. Nothing like metaphorically picking donuts, in the earliest hours of the day, with the Sun barely on the horizon, to smooth the emotions that troubled him. Tito: I don’t even like donuts. But to give it a try, I think the most important part of the donut is the most overlooked. Taybrim: Response Tito pointed to Sal’s donut, since his was almost all gone. Tito: The hole. There resides the key to the true nature. Because if it isn’t there the donut is just another pastry. It’s what gives its identity and what gives it… Lets say, meaning. Taybrim: Response Tito opened his arms. This wasn’t certainly his field, nor a theme he ever particularly wondered about. But Sal was easy to talk to, and as they kept on the conversation became more interesting. Tito: I hope you don’t think it's an ambiguous answer, but to me that hole means nothing. ::Tito smiled as he took a longer pause before finishing.:: And everything. It permits us to think, and consider, over what is and is not. In a practical, scientific observation, it’s like matter and antimatter. Taybrim: Response TAG/TBC Lt. Vitor R.S.Tito Science Officer Starbase 118 O238907VS0

Great JP from Lieutenant Vanlith and Ensign Moore to help end our Malon toxic freighter mission... along with the toxic waste, is there also love in the air?

((Holosuite 1, Deck 5, Holosuite 1) Josh wasn’t exactly sure that this was the best use of his time; this had been his first break in several days of double trying to hobble the Oumuamua back into serviceable shape after the encounter with Alpha Brenkelvi II’s moon. Now that they were docked at DS9, and supplemental engineers from Starfleet were coming on board, he had a sliver of time to himself. And he’d spent the last 10 hours in the Holosuite, getting it ready. JOPA had already turned over quite a number of members since he’d joined, and he didn’t want to be the second person in history to have not pulled a prank before getting ‘kicked out’. But there wasn’t really a guideline around limits, probably just common sense, Josh thought to himself. But then again, common sense wasn’t so common. He placed the finishing touches and informed the computer to save the program. When it activated, which would be on Commander Etan’s off day, with no one around him, he would be transported here to Holosuite 1 and it would start. The engineer had banked up quite a bit of holotime so that he could book the full day. You couldn’t really expect others to align to a desired schedule they didn’t know about. --- (( USS ‘Oumuamua )) Etan Iljor did not take ‘days off’. As the Executive Officer of a state-of-the-art Luna-class Long Range Explorer, there was an endless stream of paperwork and minutiae that occupied his time, even on those days when he vowed to do nothing but relax… not that he made such plans. No, he was something humans often referred to as a ‘workaholic’ and that suited him down to the ground. He loved his work, he loved his ship and he loved the crew under his command (although he was still decidedly cool on Lhandon Nilsen). But after four sixteen-hour duty shifts supervising Deep Space 9’s repair technicians were completing their assignments to his standards (much to the chagrin of the station’s Chief Operations Officer), even the Bajoran had to admit he needed some R&R. That meant he needed to get off the ‘Oumumua and off Deep Space 9. There was little left for him on Bajor now that his parents were in a penal colony on Prophet’s Landing, so he had decided to take a day trip to Sefalla Prime to see the famed Crystal Waterfalls of Chonakra Wept. A twenty-six-hour round trip aboard a Kressari Liner with a complimentary buffet, guided tour of the falls- including an hour in a seventeen-storey gift shop!- and a performance by a Lady Shadonna tribute drag act. He would probably skip the concert since Lady Shadonna was not really to his taste, but Iljor could not deny that he was excited by the prospect of seeing one of the Bajor Sector’s most beautiful sights. He had packed a bag with the usual essentials and had double (and triple) checked that his vaccinations were up to date since the Kressari were unusually stringent about that particular demand. When he was content that he had everything he needed, he made a beeline for the docking port that would take him to DS9’s Promenade. He was less than twenty metres from the Cardassian-design gateway when the world around him suddenly began to shimmer with blue and white energy. With a sigh, he realised the moment right before he dematerialised that he was never going to get a chance to see the Crystal Waterfalls. He sighed inwardly. --- ((Deck 4, Holosuite 1) Josh had taken a higher vantage point at the top of the barn. He thought about leaving it on autopilot, but he was unsure exactly how the Commander would react and wanted to be able to step in if needed. As the commander shimmered in, he was placed directly in the centre of the farm field. Circling him were 20 cows, grazing casually around him, seemingly unbothered by his appearance. As the commander looked around, a slightly modified Terran song blared out over the intercom. Old Oumuamua had a farm, E-I-E-I-O And on this farm, he had a cow, E-I-E-I-O With a moo-moo here and an moo-moo there Here a moo, there an moo, everywhere a moo-moo Old Oumuamua had a farm, E-I-E-I-O Standing in the middle of a large field, Iljor squinted as his eyes tried to adjust to the bright sunlight. filled with confusion and mounting irritation, he listened to the strange, twangy tune. He looked around through half-opened eyes and tried to figure out what was going on. He recognised the bovine creatures as cows, Earth creatures that had been brought to Bajor in the wake of the Occupation’s end. Pa and Ma had never had them on their homestead, but he knew enough to know their manure was a potent fertiliser. He looked down instinctively and hoped that he was not standing in some. It was clear, the first officer was bewildered. Josh smirked; that was the reaction he was going for. Something so bizarre you weren’t even sure you were awake. Etan: What the- :: he pinched the bridge of his ridged nose. :: Computer, arch! As he called for the exit, large mooing erupted from the bovines and they shook their head. Instead, a stand appeared in front of him, with a microphone, and a copy of the rhyme. Iljor pursed his lips, realising what he needed to do. He was also beginning to realise that this entire situation was likely the work of junior officers. This had JOPA written all over it. Folding his arms across his chest, he shook his head. Etan: Somebody is getting a court marshal for this. :: he muttered, before huffing out a sigh.:: Iljor picked up the card and stumped to the microphone. Determined to get this over and done with, he quickly and without any intonation read aloud the rhyme. Etan: Old Oumuamua had a farm, E-I-E-I-O / And on this farm, he had a cow, E-I-E-I-O / With a moo-moo here and an moo-moo there / Here a moo, there a moo, everywhere a moo-moo / Old Oumuamua had a farm, E-I-E-I-O. :: he paused and then spoke again. :: Are we done? It was clear to Josh that the Commander was less than amused at the prank — Josh didn’t really have enough exposure in this area to know if that was an issue, or if it was a typical reaction. He was sure T’Larn would be having a field day herself if she was here. Perhaps it was an oversight to not have them here giving the unique look into humour — but he wasn’t sure the Vulcan wouldn’t have reported him. Sure the card was read, line for line, but it was all in the performance. After Etan read out the final line, the computer bleeped at him with a rather unimpressed tone. Computer: Talent score calculated. Result: Needs Improvement. Adding ambiance. The holo emitters overlaid the man’s clothing with a checkered shirt, denim overalls, and cowboy boots. Etan: Oh for Prophets sake!. Computer: Once again, with feeling! Etan: You have got to be kidding me! :: he said under his breath. :: Iljor looked around the simulation again and thought he saw movement atop the large wooden barn at one end of the pasture. He was sure he saw a person there, but given the distance, he could not make out who it was. Etan: Do you want me to sing for my supper? :: he asked, speaking into the microphone. :: Am I supposed to put on a show? The computer bleeped at Etan, indicating that this was indeed what Josh had wanted from him. Etan: Fine. But once I do this, I’m getting out of here. :: he sighed. :: Computer, top hat and tails… and a really jazzy cane. If the junior officer wanted a show, then he would give them a show. The country attire that had appeared just a minute ago was replaced with an elegant suit. Interestingly, the computer had also decided to add a bit of Bajoran flair to each piece of clothing. A ribbon around the base of the ‘top hat chimney’ and the same pattern adorned the lapels Josh wondered if it was a modern take on the classic Terran outfit, or if it was a typical Bajoran outfit. Given this was his second attempt, Josh had programmed the words to appear mid-air and change colour to help the commander keep pace. The LCARS had mentioned this ‘karaoke’ and the earthlings stole the idea. And so Etan Iljor strutted and twirled as though he were performing on the one of the stages of Ashalla’s theatre district. As he threw the cane and twirled it behind his back, he hoped and prayed that there would be no recorded footage uploaded. He didn’t think he could handle the shame. Etan: Old Oumuamua had a farm, E-I-E-I-O / And on this farm, he had a cow, E-I-E-I-O / With a moo-moo here and an moo-moo there / Here a moo, there a moo, everywhere a moo-moo / Old Oumuamua had a farm, E-I-E-I-O. It was clear that the commander had decided to put more energy and chutzpah into this round. The cheng was trying to convince himself that the first officer was now enjoying himself, but he could have easily been just trying to escape. Etan finished the round and the computer bleeped cheerfully. Computer: Talent score calculated. Adding ambiance. Etan: Oh no you don’t! :: he snapped, before realising what was happening. :: Wait a minute- The holodeck then populated with 50 farmers and cowboys, rowdily applauding. Computer: Congratulations. You have been awarded ‘Rockstar of the Mississippi'. The imagery in the holodeck faded into the familiar black and yellow lines, with a gold trophy hovering in front of the commander. As the barn dissipated from underneath Josh, he was gently swept into a standing position from by the finely-tuned force fields. Herrick: Commander! ::smirking:: I’ve come to rescue you! Iljor whirled around to see the Chief Engineer smirking at him. His mouth dropped open. Herrick had planned all of this? He didn’t seem the sort. He pursed his lips and favoured the officer with a thoroughly unimpressed stare. Etan: Rescue, my eye! This was your doing, wasn’t it?! :: he jabbed a finger towards the man. :: Josh wasn’t exactly sure how to take the man’s response. Was he angry, was he playing along? He shifted a bit awkwardly and only a single sound escaped his mouth. Herrick: Uh… Iljor folded his arms and decided that retribution would be a matter of when, not if. JOPA had been tolerated for too long in his eyes, and he thought that it was high-time for a crackdown. Etan: Just a thought, Josh… isn’t your performance review coming up in the next couple of weeks? :: he raised an eyebrow in mischief. :: I could think of several… shall we say, cruel and unusual scenarios that could happen before then? Herrick: oO He must be playing along? Oo He wondered what a safe response could be. Herrick: Not from saving the first officer…surely. ::a playful smile turning up in the corner of his mouth:: As Iljor headed for the door, he stopped and turned back to the Chief Engineer. Etan: I’d sleep with one eye open tonight, Lieutenant. :: he said with a chuckle, his mind whirring with plots and schemes. :: And with that, the ship’s executive officer turned about and walked out of the recently revealed arch. Josh pondered the implications of the Bajoran’s words; he was now more worried at the reprisal than he had been of a reprimand. He noticed that the trophy was still spinning mid-air. Herrick: Computer, replicate and transport a 6 foot version of the rockstar trophy and place it in front of the doors of Commander Etan’s quarters. Computer: Requested operation will take 5 minutes to complete, industrial replicator in use. Herrick: Do it. He noticed even his interactions were getting a bit more casual with the Oumuamua; this was becoming his home. --- Commander Etan Iljor Executive Officer USS ‘Oumuamua NCC - 81226 C239203TW0 & Lieutenant JG Josh Herrick Acting Chief Engineer USS ‘Oumuamua O240005JH3

((Engineering Lab 1, USS Eagle)) Drex had hoped to handle Gul Smith's PADD analysis himself. Not that he really thought he would find anything useful in it, but he had found it, he'd picked it up and brought it aboard and now, due to the turn of events on the mission, he was forced to ask someone else to help him to deal with it. During the meeting the name of a certain Kinsley had come up, but Drex had not been able to find her on board, but others had sent him without hesitation to Ensign Eyna, Engineering Lab 1, Deck 14, USS Eagle. And so he was. As the door opened in front of him with his typical woosh, he took a step inside. Eyna: I told you it’s not ready. Stop bothering me, I’m not going to do it any faster! Drex turned around to see who the target was, but could not see anyone but the red hair officer in the room. The door closed behind him as he took another step. Drex: Were you talking to me? :: He asked, half amused and half perplexed :: Eyna turned to face the unexpected visitor and waved her left head. Eyna: No, no, of course no… I thought you were… oh never mind. Who are you and who are you looking for? Drex approached the work station where the woman was and handed her the security case holding the Cardassian PADD. Drex: I’m Drex. And you should be Ensign Eyna, am I correct? Someone told me you can check if there is anything useful for the current mission inside here. I understand you’re busy, but you can check with the XO the priority for this. The Denobulan officer accompanied the request with one of his large smiles. Eyna took the case and slit an eye, not too convinced. Eyna: The XO you said? Drex nodded. Eyna: What is it? She opened up the case and looked at the device. A smile spread across her face. Eyna: It’s the PADD that ruined the XO’s camping, isn’t it? :: She asked, amused. Drex: Uhm… I guess so… News of the camping mishap had spread around the ship. Eyna: Are you the one who got stunned? :: She placed the case on the workstation, her mind already on the device. Drex: No, I’m just the one who found the PADD under some rocks. Can you read it? He took a step closer. Eyna: Of course I can, what do you think all this wonderful equipment is for? :: Without turning to him, she made a circular gesture with her arm. :: Now, don’t you have a mission to accomplish? The science officer nodded, but did not move. Drex: How long do you think it may take? Eyna: The more you stay here the more it takes. Go! :: She pointed at the door :: I’ll send the results to the XO when I have something. Well, at least she was going to do it right away and Vahin and Lieutenant Raimor were surely waiting for him so it was better to move. With a sigh Drex turned towards the door and left. Once alone, Eyna began to concentrate on the PADD. Enya: Time to share your secrets, my little PADD :: she murmured with a smile wearing a couple of lab gloves:: She set to work recovering the memory chips. Not wanting to risk getting into some Cardassian trick, he cloned the memories and isolated the analysis system from the rest of the ship's network. Fortunately Cardassian was a well known language nowadays, so the translation matrix did not take long to return the first results: a proximity alarm software and a map of Bajor, without any mark. Enya: Oh, you like to play hide and seek, don’t you? She ran the recovery data procedure. This would definitely take longer, so she stretched her back and started walking towards the nearby replicator. Enya: Raktajino, warm. She watched as the tall glass and the brown liquid were created out of nowhere with the typical sound and light effects. She grabbed the cup and she took the first sip of the warm Klingon coffee. As she returned to the working station she noticed some dirt between the grooves of the casing. Enya: Uhm… where did he say he found it? I bet he picked it up bare hand :: She placed the still full cup on the table :: The chances of getting a fingerprint match were practically nil, but since she had nothing else to worry about she decided to give it a try anyway. By the end of the Rackatjino, she was rewarded with a couple of positive matches. Eyna: Daniel Jordan Smith :: she read aloud :: born on … unknown… current location unknown… I will say Bajor now, well… :: she kept reading :: wanted for smuggling and kidnapping and animal trafficking… What a nice person… and Drex, Ensign… Science Officer… not so smart I may say… She saved all the information about Smith and went back to see the status of data recovery. Although the devices seemed very old, it did not contain many deleted records. Of course they could have replaced only the memory chips. The files seemed to be all related, like different versions of the same promotional manifest. Eyna: Don’t fall victim to cellular ennui and the Soulless Minions of Orthodoxy! Her forehead furrowed. She reached for the nearest console and typed in the entire phrase. A few results appeared. Eyna: A biological phenomenon believed to be ultimately responsible for death… Dr. Bathkin.. Dr. Giger… doesn’t seem like they have a lot of fellows… She gave a look at the other files, finding nothing interesting. She saved the new data with those about Smith and sent a report to Lieutenant Commander Falt. END Ensign Eyna simmed by ============ Ensign Drex Science Officer Denali Station D240011D14

((ooc: This isn’t quite a JP, but I did add a few lines that Tom filled in for Nilsen.)) (( for story dev, location left out purposely )) Toxin admired his quarters they were both foreign and familiar to him at the same time, a feeling he couldn’t explain. It had been some time since he and Lhandon shared quarters and he missed his old room mate. As he stepped out he straightened his new tunic, pulling at the helm to remove the wrinkles, why this seemed so important wasn’t immediately evident. Reporting for duty wasn’t a new task, but Toxin had taken his responsibilities since coming on board extremely serious, for he was an officer in charge, he couldn’t let a casual nature disrupt a smooth operating machine. Arlill: ::entering the turbolift:: Bridge. The turbolift doors gently closed and before long the weight of movement felt through his body. As the lift came to a stop and the doors whirred opened, the light of the bridge cast an blue tint across his already blue complexion. As he made his way over to his station. Crewman: Captain on the bridge. Arlill: As you were. #flash# The time had passed quickly, he’d been captain of the USS Gnome for over 5 years and he wouldn’t trade it up for anything, well almost anything. He missed having his friend at the helm and in charge of Operations, but something felt off, he had this feeling of loss thinking of his friend Lhandon. He had a ping of despair. #flash# A shuttle in distress, the pilot not listening to his captain. Arlill: Lhandon, listen, shut down your engines, we can grab you with the tractors. Nilsen: No, I’ve got this. #flash# Two officers standing in front of a crashed shuttle, the only others in sight were medical officers taking covered stretchers off a damaged shuttle and moving them to the shuttle bay floor. Toxin looked towards these white silent beings and back towards Lhandon. He would look down towards a tablet, the orders hard to make out, but he knew his duty. Reaching forward he would remove the officers (beat) his friend’s rank pips and relieve him of duty, something deep inside him he never wanted to do, but the choices no longer existed. #flash# Toxin stands outside of a family crew quarters on deck 9 of the USS Gnome. A smile finds it’s way to his lips, he hasn’t been here in a while, his duties never giving him the time to stop and see friends. He presses a button on the door control, waits for a few moments which seem to take forever, the door opens and his smiling friend greets him. Arlill: Hey Lhando, it’s good to see you, I’m glad you decided to join us. Jeremy: Hey Tox, is that you? ::coming out of the kitchen:: ::to Lhandon:: Hey, I think the roast is almost done. Nilsen: Gimmie a min. There’s drinks on the table, help your self bro. Arlill: Thanks, I will. ::coming into the room:: Toxin followed Lhandon back to the kitchen. Nilsen: Come here big guy ::hugs:: how you been keeping? I never see ya anymore. Arlill: I’ve been doing well, how’s the SB118 restaurant doing? Nilsen: SB118 restaurant? it’s more then just a restaurant mate ::teasing:: Arlill: I know, I know, the arcade. Nilsen: Couldn’t be going better, you gotta stopby at some point bro. Arlill: Hey it’s hard to get away, you know the life of a Capt… The ship jolted hard enough to port that the three of them slam into the wall. Arlill: =/\= Arlill to bridge =/\= ::no response:: =/\= Arlill to bridge =/\= ::no response:: Another jolt, Toxin hits his head, just before his vision fades he sees a Jeremy, his eyes wide open just staring in his direction, a Nilsen screaming at him to respond. #flash# Toxin visits his friend, Lhandon, on Gault at least once a year since the accident that destroyed the Gnome. It’s unclear to Toxin what happened, in this moment. He stands outside a small house, the shutters unpainted and some missing, the walkway with grass winning the battle over concrete. A deep sigh and a knock on the door. A dishevelled Nilsen answers, they hug. #flash# Anyone watching the young captain who now sat onboard the Type-21 shuttle might ask a penny for his thoughts for his contemplation was vivid across his face. But only Toxin felt like something was missing, some presence he once appreciated. It had been a while since Toxin had visited his old friend, flashbacks of Lhandon and Toxin screaming at each other in a shuttle bay sent dread down his spine and reminded him of the darkest of times, at least that’s the feeling Toxin had. As the shuttle came into atmosphere and shook slightly, Tox knew it wouldn’t be long before they were landed and he’d have to continue his annual tradition. He looked down to take in his uniform, it was new to him, oO I wish Lhandon was there when I earned this. I’ll just have to tell him when I see him.Oo Stepping off the shuttle a transport was waiting to quickly whisk the tall blue admiral away to his destination. #flash# The Nilsen Farm, a once grand sight now stood buildings no longer in use, their caretakers long gone, only a few souls remained. Toxin making his way out to one of the yards he finds Lhandon in the field. Arlill: Hey broroomy, it’s been awhile. I’ve missed you. Nilsen: ::no response:: Arlill: It hasn’t been the same in Starfleet since you left. A single tear roles down his cobalt complexion. Arlill: It hasn’t been the same (beat) since you left. Toxin, looking out across the fields, the warmth of the afternoon sun on his skin. He glances down as the tear drops from his cheek, a single grave stone epitaph reads, “I’ve got this”. (( Crew Quarters, Deck 7, USS ‘Oumuamua )) Waking with a fright Toxin sat up quickly, his roommate, only feet away would look over to find a sweating friend breathing quickly, their eyes would meet and almost immediately Toxin would begin to cry. Unable to explain his sudden onslaught of emotions, he let it happen, something in him had this all kept up and it needed to be let out. [ End Short Scene for Toxin ] LTJG Toxin Arlill Helm, Operations, & Communications Officer USS 'Oumuamua NCC-81226 ejeaglesct@gmail.com Writer ID.: O239910TA4

(Maintenance Crawlspace, Deck 10) The Commodore's words had still been ringing in his ears from an hour ago. o0 V'Airu: Perhaps you should be. Reflection regarding one's actions need not only result in regret. You have now experienced, first hand, the result of refusing that introspection. 0o He knows he should learn from that advice bhe past wasn't pretty. Lhandon hadn't liked the past. It was where mistakes, screw-ups, and angry XOs resided. It wasn't where Lhandon had lived. o0 Torka: You say you are off Oumuamua yet you are still Echo. 0o He knew what it meant, Echo Squad. That was the reason he didn't wear red. o0 Salo: First, I want you to make a list of all the people you say are good. Then you need to say why they are good. 0o Lhandon had found his way to his favourite little hidey-hole, a maintenance space that overlooked the main shuttle bay. It was about 5 feet tall, and two people could just about crawl side by side. He had had the foresight to bring a tool bag, so if he had been found, he would have had plausible deniability. But he hadn't been there to do ship maintenance. He had taken out his PADD and opened the file "good people". First were his parents. Papa Mama Then his siblings Marcus Sariah Emilia Kei'ran Madison Isabella Then his best friend Lt Toxin Arlill Then the others he had met along the way. Ensign Elijah Kovacs He had paused on that name. He had been thinking about Eli a lot recently and had enjoyed the time that they had spent together. There was something about his fellow ensign, a connection he had. He didn't know what it was, but he had wanted to spend more time with him. He knew that much. Lt Josh Herrick He had messed up significantly with Josh, but at least JOPA had managed to mend things. Commander Rouiancet He hadn't expected this name to show up. Before the mission, they hadn't met for no other reason than their paths not crossing. But she had gotten him home, and for that, he would always be forever grateful. Lt Sherlock She hadn't been that bad. He had been secretly proud of himself for standing up to her and was glad that they had come to an understanding. His mind had drifted to the little robot that was hidden in Tobat’s office. Lhandon needed to deliver that soon. A smile had come across Lhandon's face at the thoughts, but he hadn't had the energy to pull this off the way he had liked. Lieutenant Colonel Wes Greaves This was an entry that Lhandon hadn't expected to write. He had heard stories of Greaves and had very much applied the "so freaking cool" tag. They had only had one interaction so far and it ended with Lhandon’s parting gift from the last mission causing him some issues. It was embarrassing that it happened right there, in front of him, in his office. However, he had heard stories of Greaves and had very much applied the "so freaking cool" tag. The tag was put in bold and given a nice little box when he read up on how Greaves had managed to save (in a manner of speaking) the USS Thor and had been able to guide the doomed ship down to a planet with minimal loss of life. Second Lieutenant Arturo Maxwell The second marine on the list was Max. They had known each other for about half a year at that point, having met on Lhandon's first mission. A friendship had quickly formed between them. He had tagged Max as "so really freaking cool and also he's my mate.” o0 Salo: Then, you should make a list of all their flaws. The things that contradict this ‘goodness’ that they possess. 0o He looked back at Maxwell and Greaves’s names, they didn’t have flaws, they were just cool. He continued to flick through that list he made. None of them really had flaws, not really he didn’t think. Maybe Sherlock’s insistence that he was up to something, but that’s not a flaw, that’s a fact. There’s no way Rouiancet has flaws, she’s a commander for warp cores sake, she made sure he got back home in the last mission. Herrick had tried to reach out to him, but Lhandon had snapped and shut him down. The incident had happened right after JOPA, and the chief engineer had been gracious in accepting his apology. The flaw in that was Nilsen. Eli, the engineer who might be turning into ops, had frequently come up in Lhandon's thoughts. The two had gotten along really well, and Lhandon had somewhat enjoyed having someone to show off to. He had wanted to know Eli better and spend more time with him.That guy certianlly didn't have flaws. Arlill had been his big bro. That guy had put up with every bit of drama and stress that Lhandon had given. He should have said thank you more often. Very few, if any other people in the galaxy, would have stuck by him. He just can’t do, these people are flawless. 10’s 10’s 10’s across the broad His mind refused to delve any further into the exercise, begging for a diversion. Before he knew it, he was engrossed in a Federation datafile titled "USS Crow Dog." He had thought, "No, not my ship.” Kind of a twist on what V’Airu asked him to do. Yet he continued. He scrolled through the listing and found the crew roster. He saw V'Airu's name, of course, he recognized her. Then his eyes widened at the sight of her first posting on the Crow Dog—she was in Gold. Ops just like him. He scrolled through her history, starting as a double in Tactical and Operations. The operations side of her life seemed to slip away slowly but... No wonder she let Project F.O.R.T, Nilsen, Arlill and Whitaker go absolutely wild on the OC. She was one of them. He flicked through the rest of her history. USS Tar'Hana was a nice-looking ship but then he saw her posting on the USS Equity where one of her roles was as a relief operations officer. Then suddenly, the image of the ship loaded into his PADD. o0 Oh, she's...0o he saw pure beauty. He fell in love at first sight with the Excelsior class starship. The long lines, the majestic frame, and the power it projected. There were still a few kicking around Starfleet in 2401. And he had to switch to another tab, he had heard about these, the Excelsior II, they were rolling out into the fleet. He had daydreamed about flying one. How would they have flown, would they have been graceful? Turned on a dime or something needing a wider turning circle? Lhandon had continued his reading and soon found what he had intended to read. He had wanted to know about the Crow Dog, mostly for the context. V'Airu was a Tactical Officer, and then a second officer. And then… And then.. Lhandon was suddenly short of breath, in a second he understood everything V'Airu had told him, how she said o0 V'Airu: Whatever happened, it isn't your fault you picked up those feelings and memories. Remember that. 0o His heart had sunk when he found an entry from 2374, "Battlefield Promotion to CO, following deaths of former CO and XO." A single tear had rolled down his cheek. He didn't know those names, but he felt a certain grief for the former CO and XO. This wasn't a memory, just a feeling. A response to the news. o0 V"Airu: but I also would want you to hold yourself blameless. 0o Nilsen: Before I was born. Before I was born. He hadn't looked at their names, not at that moment. He spoke to himself to remind him to remember his age, this isn't it. He shut the PADD off and placed it on the floor, turning his attention to the shuttle bay. There was still a tear on his face. A Type 14 shuttlecraft had shown up, its engines rumbling as it touched down on the pad. Type 14's were nice to fly. He liked Type 14’s. If this was what reflection had been like, he didn’t like it. His thought process was to leave memories in the past. They stayed in the past and they didn't hurt you. Right up until the moment that they did. When they resurfaced during a race. When they remained unaddressed and became your mindscape. They hurt. [End Scene] Ensign Lhandon Joseph Nilsen HCO USS Oumuamua O240007LN1 He/Him/His (Both player and character)

Sometimes it takes a while for a group of writers to settle into a vibe with one another and to begin forming those bonds that help a crew evolve into a family. Then there are the good folks aboard the Ronin who already write like they've been together for years. As a CO it's a joy to behold and more than worth sharing with the rest of the fleet. Bravo folks - although I don't know why you think the Ronin needs a Junior Officer Protection Association. ================================================================= ((Lounge, Mission Pod Level B, USS Ronin)) Vomek paced again across the lounge. Rox sat in one of the padded chairs and watched him go back and forth. She was not sure why she’d come. She was not an officer of any kind and while the Oumuamua crew had accepted her as part of JOPA, there was no reason to think that the Ronin crew would do so automatically. Still, there was the entertainment value of watching Vomek squirm. He was not what you’d call a people person. Rox was impressed he’d gone this far out of his comfort zone. Vomek had seen Toxin run one of these meetings with no trouble at all, but Vomek could feel sweat on his face. He had chairs and he’d gotten several pizzas and various types of beer replicated. Now he waited to see who might walk through the door. He made another circuit of the Lounge and was about start yet another when the the door to the Lounge opened. Luxa stepped through the doors, her tail swayed behind her confidently. Luxa's hair was flattened down against her skull, straightened and fell straight down her back. It accentuated her feline features and striking amber eyes. Her dress was golden silks that matched her eyes and crossed in several places along her chest, only revealing two triangles on her side. It was a Caitian design, that then floated out around her legs; beautiful and freeing. She had only had cause to visit the crew mess onboard, and she was stricken with how beautiful the lounge was, it was as if she'd stepped into a different time period. The bar area was situated between two pillars, that dominated an entire wall. The pillars were embossed with warm, dim glimmering lights that swirled into differing shapes and images. She believed she could see a man, swinging what appeared to be a blade in those lights. It was the briefest of flashes. The rest was decorated with what appeared to be strong, dark wooden tables and chairs positioned in various formations to offer both larger areas for groups and more intimate spaces for those who liked to keep things private. There was latticed wood on the walls, with luscious plants that crawled along them. She enjoyed that they seemed to have opted for a selection of Federation plants throughout the lounge. She went to the nearest, leant over and sniffed; an orchid that she knew most if not all would recognise. A midnight orchid, she wondered if this came from the Academy gardens themself. Maybe tended to by the famous Boothby, or his holodeck alternative that now tended to the gardens. The thought sent shivers down her spine. It felt unnatural and ghostly, although others seemed to find it comforting. Vomek: Hello. I’m Ensign Vomek. Welcome to JOPA. Luxa spun towards him. Lorana: Hello Ensign. oO a Romulan? Oo She smiled, and extended her hand. Her second Romulan meeting in a matter of months. Times were changing. Lorana: Ensign Lorana, and Science Officer :: she indicated her gown :: Today I'm just Luxa. Vomek took the Caitian’s hand. Vomek: Echante. Luxa smiled. Vomek: If you help yourself to some pizza and beer I’ll tell you more about JOPA once all our potential members have arrived. Luxa scented the nurse before she saw her, with her pale skin and dark raven hair. Nurse Rox, with the not quite human scent. Luxa moved towards the pizza and beer. She'd encountered beer before, at Hiro's movie night on the Artemis, and knew that she'd skip that beverage. She hoped that the friendly Romulan wouldn't mind. The pizza however, she wondered how many pieces would be considered polite. She'd certainly eat it all if given the chance. Vomek: ::turning to Rox:: You finally going to join us. Go to the academy and all? Rox: No I’m not a member, purely here for logistical support. ::indicating her bowling shirt from the Oumuamua:: see “Crew Girl” Says it all I think. Lorana: Harry Kim? :: looks to Vomek confused, points to his shirt :: You bear his name? :: confused :: Relation? Vomek: ::looking at his shirt:: Yes it was a gift from the JOPA chapter on the USS Oumuamua. The “Harry Kim” is just a bad joke. The door to the Lounge slipped open again and Quentin stepped in wearing his blue coat with PADD in hand, typing out his patient notes for the day, his brow furrowed slightly. He didn't look up until he'd nearly run into one of the tables that had been moved for this meeting, and he looked around only mildly embarrassed before shutting off the screen and tucking it into his pocket. He spotted Rox and Avae chatting, offered them both a nod, and then cleared his throat to address… anyone, really. Beck: Uh… this is for the JOPA meeting, right? Got a message in my inbox I might want to be here tonight. Vomek: Welcome doctor. Please help yourself to some food and a beverage. The Dark Island brew is from my adopted homeland, Orkney. He nodded and raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck before crossing to the food table, letting out a low whistle. Beck: Quite a spread. Just realized how hungry I am. Luxa popped another piece of the pizza in her mouth, and almost swallowed it whole. It was warm, and delicious. She was glad that she'd managed to get her appetite back after not eating a mouthful during lunch. Lorana: :: swallows :: Hello, again. :: extends paw :: We didn't get to properly say hello before in Sickbay. Quentin Beck isn't it? Quentin brightened a little at her greeting, reaching out to shake her paw firmly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. Beck: Yeah, that's right. And you're Luxa. Pleased to meet you in better circumstances. How are you feeling? Any better? Lorana: Much better doctor. Beck: I gotta tell ya, I appreciate you letting me take care of that final bit of treatment for you - first day in Sickbay so I was a little nervous, but you made things easy. He picked up a plate and started loading it with pizza, a slice or two from each pie, picking at extra melty pieces of cheese that were falling off and scooping them into his mouth immediately. Lorana: I wasn't about to refuse, having your molecules begin to lose cohesion can make you very willing to accept any treatment available :: laughs :: And you were very delicate with me. I appreciate that. Looking across the room, Vomek was satisfied that phase 1 of his plan had been successful. People had come and were now enjoying themselves. It made sense that phase 2 should begin. Vomek: Uh hello everybody? Rox chuckled. No one was paying attention to Vomek. She wondered if she should tell someone about his Oumuamua nickname. Vomit. She decided to hold her tongue for the moment. The room was crowded with junior officers and they could be fickle on a good day. The less they noticed a non-commissioned crewman the better. Vomek: ::louder:: Uh guys? Hello? Just coming off his shift, Ian knew he was going to be late for this JOPA meeting Ensign Vomek was putting together but better late than never. It was at least a chance to meet some of the other “lower decks” folks. Ian knew that Luxa and C’iri would be there so he’d at least know a couple people. The doors of the lounge opened and as Ian was about to step through the entryway. Deciding that she could not watch Vomek suffer further, Rox walked over to stand beside Vomek and gave a loud, shrill whistle. The room went silent. Ian stopped in the doorway, not entirely sure he wanted to walk through at that moment, the shrill whistle was still ringing in his ears. Vomek: ::looking at Rox:: Thank you. Rox walked to the back of the room and leaned against the wall. Vomek: I didn’t get to meet you all yet. My name is Ensign Vomek, helm and comms officer from the USS Oumuamua. He glanced around the room. Vomek: I was also on the Foxy Lady during the Denali Invitational. We took third. Vomek gave a broad smile to the room. He expected that information would impress the room and give credence to his leadership. Luxa narrowed her eyes, they had engine troubles and had to leave the race. She was certain they'd have won. Lorana: :: jokes :: You're lucky the Vela had to leave the race. I hope you enjoyed the Kryptilithium though! :: laughs :: Vomek: ::calling back to Lorana:: That was just rude. Ian was pretty sure Luxa’s comment was intended as a joke but it didn’t seem as though Vomek was comprehending the humor. He’d met the Ensign several times but their only real interactions had been as Helm officers at shift transfer of duties times. Routine and professional stuff only. Quentin snorted. Beck: The Foxy Lady? Who came up with that one? Rox happened to be walking past Beck and hearing the name of her precious vessel being dissed, she stuck him sharply on the shoulder with her fist. Rox: ::saucy:: I did. Do you have an opinion on it? Beck: ::grinning and rubbing his shoulder:: Ouch. Just thought it was amusing, that's all. Rox raised her eyebrow and continued her walk to the back of the room. O’Connor: :: Finally walking fully into the room:: I believe Ensign Lorana was just poking a little bit of fun, no need to get riled. We are all here for some fun and to find out what this JOPA thing is all about. Ian hoped Luxa wouldn’t get mad at him for the comment but he didn’t want things to get out of hand…at least right off the bat. Luxa appreciated O’Connor's attempts to defend her but felt they weren't necessary. A little bit of friendly banter was fine by her, although she still gave him a friendly nod. Vomek: So JOPA is the Junior Officers Protection Association. We’re here to watch out for each other. We all know things can be rough if you’re lower decks, lower ranked than a Lieutenant. JOPA is here to help and support you. Because we have former members, we can use those connections later. Ian wondered if Vomek realized that Ian’s deflective comment just protected him from Lorana. Probably not. He’d bet it went right over his head like Lorana’s ribbing. Quentin cradled a cup of coffee to offset the beer he'd been drinking earlier, steam rising from the rim. Beck: So how does that work once you're promoted? Is that the 'former member' thing? Kind of like being an alumnus? Vomek: ::nodding to Beck:: Yes once you’re an alum you can help others up the ladder. ::looking across the crowd:: No one is obligated to join, I just wanted to present the opportunity. He glanced around the room again trying to make eye contact with as many people as possible. Vomek: I enjoyed JOPA because I made friends. We did lots of social stuff and I was able to connect with a bridge buddy more easily. Rox had strolled back to stand next to the pizza table. She was debating whether a piece of pepperoni or a piece of cheese would be better. She looked up thinking Vomek was just about to miss something important. Rox: ::shouting from the back:: Pranks! Ian swung his head around to nurse Rox. Luxa wasn't sure pranks were a good idea since she'd been in enough bother since arriving. O’Connor: Pranks? On who? Vomek: Well ::hesitating:: in order to be full members, there is a requirement to play a prank on a senior officer. O’Connor: Wait so this group encourages us to prank the multi-pips? Vomek: We encourage risk taking as preparation for command. This seemed pretty darn ironic for what Ian knew of Vomek. Maybe he was misjudging him. O’Connor: You’re encouraging that? Vomek gave O’Conner a broad smile. Beck: So hazing the newbies. Got it. I had to do that at MIT, too. I assume they're meant to be good-natured pranks and not things that'd get your commission revoked. Vomek: Well for my prank I convinced our XO that another JOPA member was an ambassador. I got him to give a tour of the Oumuamua in only his pants. Oh, yes. Ian had definitely misjudged Vomek. Rox: I heard somebody once glitter bombed Wes Greaves office. Vomek: We can assign teams for pranks. I suggest Lorana and Beck show Commander Carpenter a good time. Perhaps O’Connor and Tucker could give Doctor Kel a thrill? Beck: ::wrinkling his nose over his mug:: Prank the Chief of Security? Man, that feels like bad juju… ::looking to Lorana and smirking:: But I bet we could come up with something good… Lorana: Not sure I want to feel Carpenter's wrath :: looks to Beck :: Although it might be fun to … try something. Rox: ::loudly:: No!. Dr. Kel is off limits. Vomek: No one is off limits Crewman Queen. Rox: V’Len was off limits on the Oumuamau. Vomek: No, we just didn’t get to him. Rox: I’m telling you he’s off limits. Rox: For one one thing I don’t want to get caught up in someone's prank. I work in sickbay. Beck: Hey, I do, too, but as long as it isn't a stupid prank that'd get somebody hurt, I'm sure it'd be okay. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw and studying Rox for a moment before shrugging. Beck: Besides, he seems like he's got a good sense of humor to me. Vomek: ::nodding:: He is always pleasant. Rox: Dr. Kel puts us together when we’re hurt. You really want to piss him off? You could end up with two heads! O’Connor: That’s okay, I think, I’m going for the big guy…but I need a science buddy and someone medically or first aid trained. Any takers? Beck: I can help with that. I'll have my hands full working with Luxa to prank Carpenter, but I don't see why I wouldn't be able to provide you with some assistance. Luxa smiled at Beck. Vomek: What if Ico, and Vailani take Commander Raga? Luxa laughed at the thought of Vailani doing a prank, and then shuddered at the prospect of it. Especially the Bajoran duo on the case. Vomek: And just to show I’m a good sport ::looking around:: Jones and I will take the good Captain. Vomek: Great. Everyone enjoy some food and thanks for coming. With that done Vomek stepped down from the podium and headed toward the back of the room Vomek: Well that went well. Vomek received only an eye roll from Rox, but he decided to ignore the woman for the moment. He made his way over to the Caitian, Luxa Lorana. Vomek: ::tapping Lorana on the shoulder:: So, the Vela eh? It’s a shame you had to drop out. The Kryptilitium was a good trick. Quentin eyed Lorana with amused curiosity. Beck: Oh, wait a second - I was trying to remember why all that sounded familiar. I remember watching that race at the Academy, they even canceled classes for the day so we could all enjoy it. Were you piloting the Vela? Lorana: Yes I was, until we got some engine problems and had to bail out. Myself, Ensigns Kader and Kuva from the Artemis. We were the ones who deployed the Kryptilithium over the course, and slowed the racers down :: sneaky :: Never trust a scientist. Vomek: Well I was impressed by the subterfuge, and I’m Romulan. Lorana: I take that as a compliment. Beck: Sounds like I'm gonna have to keep a close eye on you both. He looked up to see O'Connor leaving the lounge. Beck: I'm gonna go chat with him about what he needs - Luxa, let's touch base later to discuss our plans for the CTO. Waving to them both, he downed the last of his coffee before jogging to catch up with Ian. O’Connor: :: walking out with “science buddy” and first responder :: …so from what I understand, the Yilga Bat guano extract should only work on a joined Trill and will either make their hair glow in the dark, preferred option, or cause an allergic reaction that will make all of their spots swell to the size of golf balls, unpreferred option… Beck: ::blinking:: Uh… well, I can take a look at his medical file to see what allergies he might have. That's a wild, wild idea… Rox shook her head as she watched O’Connor walking out of the room. They had forgotten one thing. She decided not to warn them, she’d just make sure she was ready when the time came. With all that being said, and the others leaving. Luxa decided to follow suit. She was no real use at pranks but she found that she wouldn't mind getting to know this human doctor a little better. – Ensign Vomek H/C/O Officer USS Ronin NCC-34523 T239811VK2 He/Him (character and player) & Ensign Quentin Beck Medical Officer USS Ronin NCC-34523 A238810SA0 & Lt JG Luxa Lorana Science Officer USS Ronin NCC-34523 A240004LL2 & Ensign Ian O’Connor HCO USS Ronin NCC-34523 R240009IO4 & Rox Nurse USS Ronin NCC-34523 T239811VK2 He/Him (character and player)

((Family Quarters 7-3-442, USS Oumuamua.)) Max was stood just inside the doorway, staring at the furnished yet presently very impersonal setting of what from today would be his brand new home on the ship. To his immediate left, a dining table with a pair of chairs. Directly opposite him was a comfy looking three-seater sofa flanked on both sides by a coffee table and armchair. The room to his right was a bedroom with a bed, desk and chair and some wardrobe space. To his left was a door that led into a bigger bedroom with a double bed, desk and chair, and storage. It also led to another doorway that opened into a fair-sized bathroom. It had been a few hours since his meeting with Colonel Greaves and Lt Sh'Shelor and Max had been aimlessly wandering the decks when he had received a message on his PADD that new quarters had been assigned to him. They were very nice quarters, and a massive upgrade from his shared officers digs down on the Gator Deck. Taking a deep breath, Max made a mental note to hunt down Commodore V'Airu and thank her for the swift assistance towards needing these quarters in the first place. Nodding to himself, Max turned and left his new quarters before doube-timing all the way to the docking port. ((Docking Ring, Deep Space Nine.)) There couldn't be this many people aboard a single shuttle. Could there? Max felt like he'd watched about fifty-thousand people come through the hallway that led to the docking ring proper. He'd paced nervously back and forth, stepping aside with an apology now and then as he got in the path of disembarking passengers. To many passing by he must have appeared as quite a contradiction. A five foot ten and heavily toned Marine bearing a white eye and a mess of scarring upon his face that gave off the air of trained violence and brutal combat, bizarrely combined with a clearly nervous expression and the pacing of somebody battling a swirling combination of excitement and fear at the meeting to come. What on earth could produce such nerves in a battle-scarred Marine? It was a question clearly on the minds of many of the people disembarking, as they cast their own nervous glances and gave him as wide a berth as possible. As the crowds from this sections latest round of arrivals began to thin out, Max felt his nerves get even worse. Had there been a change of heart? He would understand perfectly if there had been. After all, uprooting from an established home so far away from the home you had grown up in, to then live aboard a starship heading for a different quadrant was no small feat. It was an even bigger ask when that person was only twelve and had barely come to terms with being told her father was dead, before being hit with the bombshell that he was alive and well. There had been moments since his return to Starfleet Headquarters for debriefing and retraining as a Marine that Max had wrestled with the idea of contacting her at all. Would it have been kinder to allow her to process his listing as killed, to visit the Hall of Honour aboard SB118 and see his golden lettered name engraved beside many others on the memorial wall. To allow her to heal and move on without him? Or would that have been a far more selfish thing to have done? Which was right? In the end, no matter what would or would not have been the less hurtful option for her, Max had been unable to keep silent and had initially reached out to Sal. After that he had he discreetly contacted Ishreth Dal, SB118's Andorian commanding officer and a dear friend. One who had immediately and without second thought taken her in as if one of his own and taken good care of her. The first indication was the sound of a jingling bell, and a playful yowling. A smile formed upon his face as he recognised the sound of his ginger tomcat, Haggis. The last few people passed him by and revealed the person he had been anxiously waiting for. She was stood beside the familiar face of his old friend Julien Paradi, who for his part was pushing a trolley piled high with bags and a pair of cat carriers. From one, came the sound of happy yowling and the jingling of a toy, and from the other was the dangling paw of a snoozing Nessie. Nodding to Julien his gaze turned to the young face looking straight at him, taking in every detail of his scarred face as if unsure that he was really stood there. And then she took off running towards him. Max dropped to his knees, his arms outstretched. His gave a slight huff from the impact as Milly collided with him, and his arms instantly gripped her in an almost crushing bear hug. Uncaring of who might see, tears rolled freely down Max's face as the mutual hug grew tighter still. Eventually, he released her and she took a step back. Up close and face to face now he watched her eyes scanning over his face again, before a hand gently touched his scarred cheek. She wrinkled her nose at him, a mischevous smile forming. Milly: It makes you look grumpy..... -- 2nd Lieutenant Arturo Maxwell. Marine Officer, 4/73 Marines. USS Oumuamua: NCC-81226. O239311AM0

I found this self-examination to be very touching and a great solo sim. It gave some great insight into the character. She's also got some great references to other recent events that tie everything together very nicely. Sim by @Jacin Ayemet

@Korras 1. I thought the title mix up was really cute. ❤️ . 2. This sim really shows how you don't need a whole bunch of fancy words in order convey emotion. Sometimes merely stating the truth is enough to give the reader major feels. ❤️ . __________________________________ OOC: I was drafting this, and it became so long, it didn’t feel right to include it in the sim itself, so for reference, here’s the letter Amar wrote. IC: PLEASE READ So, I woke up, and can't seem to fall asleep again, so I figured I'd try to write this down. I mean, I did promise I would tell you everything, and I think you should know about who you let into your house. and hopefully, I'll be able to sleep again afterwards. My parents weren't very nice people. My mother at least was able to feel what others were feeling like me, but the only thing that made her happy seemed to be making others feel hurt. My father usually either went along, or helped her in making others miserable. I don't know if he could feel as my mother and me, but he never really seemed to care about anything. I didn't make a lot of friends, because once my mother met them, she always made sure they did not stick around. Feeling her happiness when I was sad only made me more sad, which made her more happy. I had no idea what to do anymore. She knew when I was thinking about telling anyone, and made sure that I didn't. Sometimes, when she couldn't hurt people with words, she'd hurt me for real. Years ago, a group of kids showed up with a trading ship, and were doing theater on the street. I ended up talking to them, and they asked me to come with them. I really never thought it through, I just wanted to get away. I thought they meant to a different place in town, but it turned out they were going back to the ship they came in with. before I knew it, they had taken me along as one of their own. I was scared at first, until I realized I no longer had to fear my mother. However, I never told them I could feel what they felt. I guess it was the one thing about me that I kept secret, as everything else we shared, always being so close to eachother. That's how I came to be with the Merry Misfits. Vanla was always the leader, even back then. She would make sure we never stayed in one place too long. It didn't take long to figure out how they got their money: the theater was just an easy way to draw the attention of people away, and some of the misfits would go around pickpocketing. I tried that, but I was better at performing. It helped a lot that I could get a good feeling of the crowd, and what they liked, the better to draw attention away from those picking their pockets.. Kayden has been with them for a long time, too. he has a really big crush on Vanla, but I never was able to figure out of she liked him or not. She's really hard to figure out, her feelings often didn't make sense. Anyway, that's how we lived. We often hid away in freighters and other ships to get from place to place, or sometimes we'd even actually pay for transit. We never thought much of what we did, we just thought that if the things we stole were important to people, they wouldn't let us steal them. But today was different. It seemed such a small thing to do, simply drop something in the computer, and we'd get paid. But then, everything went wrong. It made me realize that small things can cause really, really, big problems. And that's what's keeping me awake now. What other problems did we cause over time? For us, it might have been just things we stole. What if we stole something from someone, and now that person couldn't get food for his family anymore? I never worried about that before, but now I think we were very selfish. Kayden and Vanla seemed so unworried about it all. I don't want to go back to that. I also don't want to be going somewhere else all the time anymore, or worry about when we get to eat, or trying to keep hidden away on some ship. I am really glad that you and Korras and Snezhana found me. I don't know what else would have happened. And I don't know how to thank you for letting me in your house tonight. I hope you are still okay with me staying here after reading this. I know I would have had to tell this all to someone eventually, and I'm tired of running away. I also know that staying here won't be entirely easy, I expect I'll have to talk to many people about that. But I really do want to stay, and I want to be honest from now on, and after you let me in, I don't want to hide it from you. Thank you for reading, and for helping me. -Amar

@Madison Marsh @Karen Stendhal Love the friendship that is building between these two characters. ________________________________________ ((Computer Junction B-47, Qo'Nos District, Starbase 118)) ((OOC: My scenes of dialogue were unintentionally missed, so I attempted to patch this sim together to complete it for Madison. It happens to the best of us on occasion, all is good. Taybrim you are up! I have enjoyed writing with everyone and look forward to shore leave. 🙂 )) Madison provided Karen with a comedic salute and flashed a contagious grin. She was without a doubt an expressive and extroverted woman. Her interactions fueled her with an abundance of energy at times. oO I'm glad that Karen feels that way. She is such a lovely and supportive friend. Oo Marsh: Aye Aye Counselor Stendhal. Stendhal: Aye Doctor Marsh. She pressed her combadge gently with her soft and delicate hand. Madison was into self care and treated her skin with lotion on the daily. =/\= Marsh to Taybrim. Counselor Stendhal and I have escaped a holographic entity known as Lemoncable. Thank you for holding the door open for us sir. =/\= Taybrim: =/\= Doctor Marsh, Counselor Stendhal, I saw your work in the systems. Fantastic job, the both of you!=/\= Expressing gratitude, Karen Stendhal remarked to the Commodore Stendhal =/\= Thank you Commodore! I must say, Doctor Marsh here was really on the ball. =/\= A smile formed on her lips and it was evident in her friendly tone of voice. She had enjoyed working with Karen and wanted to make sure that the Commodore knew about it. Perhaps he would assign them as a tandem going forward during other missions. Either way, it was worth a shot in her opinion as she had nothing to lose with the hint. Marsh: =/\= Thank you sir, Counselor Stendhal and I make a lovely team. =/\= Taybrim: =/\= Yes, I think it’s time we cleaned this mess up and got some down time to recuperate. =/\= Whenever Hael was 'around', Karen found herself adopting a somewhat informal, on-the-road manner of speaking. Stendhal: =/\= We caught wind of a colossal explosion here! I mean, it rattled the rafters. Is everyone in one piece over there, safe and sound? Just thought we'd touch base to make sure everything's hunky-dory on your end. =/\= Madison nodded her head in complete agreement with Taybrim's assessment of the situation going forward. She could lose a bit of downtime herself as it had been an exhilarating mission to say the least. Perhaps she could go relax on a beach somewhere or at least in the holodeck if she had to remain on 118 during her time off. Marsh: =/\= Sounds like a plan sir. Taybrim: =/\= ? Stendhal: =/\= Can we lend a hand in untangling this situation? It seems like a real pickle, and four heads are better than two when it comes to sorting out a mess. =/\= She nodded her head in agreement with Karen as she was willing to assist where needed. Marsh: =/\=I agree, we are happy to help wherever needed. =/\= Taybrim: =/\= ? ~*~ Tags end for Madison Marsh

A brilliant sim from @Vylaa! Great dialogue between the characters here. So much fun to read conversations between Andorians, and to get a bit of an insight into Vylaa's world beyond Starfleet. Lt Vylaa zh'Tisav: The Wager (google.com)

Everyone involved has added their own little spark of insanity to this scene, but this Exit: Stage Right by @Karrod Niac is truly amazing. We must now include wiki definitions for the words he invented ((Sickbay Complex, Ward C, Deck 10, USS Ronin)) k’Oar-€l: This one has requested to speak with the vessel master. The Niac. Rox: Ta da! Karrod quirked an eyebrow and pointed to himself with a thumb. Niac: That's me, Ensign. ::Karrod glanced around:: Are we still having translator problems? Carpenter: RESPONSE k’Oar-€l: ::slightly confused:: but Cub/Not Cub can not be the Niac. The Niac is Trill. The Niac is a swimmer. The Niac is worm shaped. Karrod got a strangely sinking feeling. Niac: Haven't met a Joined Trill before, have you Ensign? Beck: Technically you're correct - Niac is who you're asking for, and they are… uh… a swimmer, as you put it… but Niac is a symbiont. Trill are the humanoid hosts. Carpenter: RESPONSE Karrod had little experience trying to read the expressions on Antedian features but he found it odd how universal confusion looked. k’Oar-€l: Ahh, this one was not aware The Niac was combined. Nor seemingly were Pod Elders. This may be complicating message. Karrod shrugged and felt his eyebrow continue its journey towards his hairline. Niac: Complicated...how? Carpenter: RESPONSE Rox: ::looking at K’Oar:: How so? k’Oar-€l: This one has a message from the Antedian Science Aquarium Pod Elders for only The Niac. This one carries the message unknown to this one imprinted in this one’s brain. Messaging is able to be releasing through bioelectrical impulses through the milky waters that The Niac was supposed to be swimmings in. This one is not sure if transmission still possible with The Niac ingested by the Cub/Not Cub. Karrod pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and thought back to several early Academy classes taken by himself and two other hosts. He tried to remember all he could about patience when dealing with alien cultures and came up with very little that would help him in this increasingly odd situation. Niac: Ok, first thing, we really need to discuss the word ingested... Carpenter: RESPONSE Rox: Come again? Beck: Huh… k’Oar-€l: This one’s best idea-ing would be to have the Cub/Not Cub Niac fully immersed naked in waters similar to Trilly Cave of Mak’ala. This one will then stick this one’s head into the bathing waters and release the bioelectrical impulse. Hopefulligly The Niac will receiving the message… and Cub/Not Cub will not be electrocutified.. Beck: I uh… don't know the exact qualities required to match the Cave of Mak'ala, but I would imagine we could find a way to simulate the environment. If that's what you're interested in doing, sir. We've got large enough bathing tanks I think it could work. ::rubbing his chin:: Too bad we don't have Cetacean Ops, that'd make it a lot easier… For a brief moment that was all too clear in his minds eye Karrod saw himself being eulogized by a mournful crowd as the Starfleet flag was draped over the torpedo casing that would be his final command. When the subject of his death by electrofishmail was discussed the mourners descended into hysterics, laughing until they simply couldn't breathe. He snapped out of the dreadful premonition with a start. Niac: Uh, Ensign, yeah...I think perhaps we'll need to table that idea for now. I'm sure I could put in a call to the Symbiosis Commission back on Trill, they're certain to have some information about how to handle one of these...uh...situations. I assume your people have done this before, right? Carpenter: RESPONSE Rox: I’m just going to put it out there that I am ::pausing, smiling:: out of my depth here. Karrod tried not to snort a laugh and barely suppressed it in time. Niac: Oh I'm sure the message back to Trill won't take more than a week or three to get a response. You can be sure that as soon as I hear back you're my first stop, Ensign! Karrod considered the door behind him and decided it was time to make a tactical withdrawal. k’Oar-€l/Beck/Carpenter: RESPONSE Rox: I’ll could stay here in case we need to transport either of them back to sickbay. Niac: Thank you Nurse Rox but I don't think that'll be necessary right now. Oh what's that? ::Karrod booped audibly and pantomimed patting his comm badge:: Yep that's the bridge, gotta run. Busy ship, always things to do. Best of luck Ensign Carl! With that Karrod turned on a heel and headed out of sickbay at what he felt was an entirely measured and not needlessly hasty speed. He'd need to send that message off to Trill but he imagined that there were at least five or six terribly important matters that he'd have to address before he could get to that. What those important matters were or how long they'd take to resolve simply hadn't revealed itself yet. As he strode towards the turbolift, he was certain whatever they were, it beat getting himself and Niac fishlectrocuted. [Tags/End for Niac!] ================================ Commander Karrod Niac Commanding Officer USS Ronin - NCC-34523 V239509GT0