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((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

So, Haukea and the MSNPC Amar, played by @Korras, have been building a relationship for several posts now. But this most recent one from the writer nearly made me cry it was so sweet. I knew I had to put it on the forums right away. ((StarBase 118 - Commercial Sector - Quo’Nos District)) Ikker: Oh yeah? And what are you going to do to a kid - huh? Willow: Nothing. I’m going to let you go, Ikker. Amar: Let him go? I think he can go find Vanla again, then.. Ikker: Response Willow: Walk away. But don’t drag Amar into this. Amar: I think this is goodbye, Kayden. Ikker: Response Willow: Amar is wanted. With me. Amar: ::Eyes widening in surprise, speechless:: Ikker: Response At that, she turned to Willow, still processing what she had said, and thinking she heard wrong. It couldn’t be right, could it? She must have misheard. Amar: I don’t think I can go back to them anymore.. I thought we would just drop something off for someone, and then we would be off to have fun. I never thought that this would all happen, but if they did.. I don’t want to be a part of that anymore. ::she hesitated before going on:: Do you think I could stay on the station here, at least for a while? Willow: Whether temporary, permanent, unofficial, or official, you are more than welcome to stay on the station Amar. She knew other people would want to talk to her, and she was sure there would be some trouble for her. But honestly, after today, she was tired of running, and hopefully, just maybe, she would get some time to spend on the beach. Before she could answer, the sky lit up again. She looked up, and a smile crept onto her face as she looked at the moon and stars. Before she knew what was happening, another wave of emotions rolled over them, but this time, it was just a whole lot of happiness, mixed with relief. She couldn’t help but cry. Ikker: Response Willow: You may leave now Ikker. I wish you well. Goodbye. ::Turning to Amar:: How are you? You alright? Ikker: Response Amar nodded. She had sensed so many strong different emotions today, and she was exhausted from it. Normally, she could keep her composure, but today had turned out to be so, so, much different then any other day. She had never sensed anything on this scale before, as she had never been in a place with so many people packed so close together, with so much going on to anger them, to scare them, to make them feel relief on such a scale. It was as if thousands of people started pointing their flashlights in one direction, but instead of her eyes seeing it, it was her mind feeling it. Amar: I’m alright. Everybody is happy, is all. Willow: Well I know I am. She looked up, and knew she was, and still concerned, and caring. it was a combination she had not experienced all too much before, but it was very much a good experience. Amar: I know.. and I am too. Willow: Do you want to keep looking for your Aunt or…? ::Haukea was asking more for clarification than anything:: Did that mean she wanted her to go with her aunt? No.. it did not seem so. She sensed her hesitation. Amar: I don’t want to. I think she has something to do with what happened here today, and I want no more part of that. I want to make things right. Willow: Well you can always come home with me. I don’t mind giving up my bedroom for a while. Amar: ::blinking in surprise:: you .. mean that? She tried to process what she had been told. It was positively one of the nicest things she had ever been offered, and no amount of credits could make up for that. Willow: Response Amar was lost for words. In an impulse, she hugged willow, tears rolling down her cheeks. somehow, this person she had met today cared more for her then most others she had before. And those that did care, invariably had their own motives for that. She sensed none of that now. She finally managed some words. Amar: I would like that very much. Willow: Response ** MSNPC Amar ***** Ensign Korras Ops Officer Starbase 118 Ops O240010K12

[OOC: A short sim acting as a character growth acknowledgement, with a healthy side of nonsense.] ((Level 35, Anchorage, Denali Station)) Levels 35 and 36 of the Anchorage tower were occupied by a single apartment, made up of two floors. The uppermost one, level 36, had been, until his recent transfer, Dekas', and boasted a beautiful view over the Administrative District of Denali Station. When the mood struck, the Aurelian could also open a window, and simply take flight for an aerial stroll around the Towers. Level 35 was... something else. Back in 2397, Kettick had suffered a major mental breakdown when an alien telepathic entity had tried to overwrite his consciousness with a simulated human identity. The attack left him in a coma for several months, followed by a long period of recovery, during which he struggled to integrate the remnants of his human persona with his baseline one. During that recovery phase, one of his successive counselors had introduced him to a Vulcan meditation tool that used small blocks to represent thoughts and emotions, that the patient had to stack and balance together. The tool in itself had little use for a species whose emotions were lukewarm at their most extreme, but Kettick had been fascinated by the concept. Fast forward to Denali Station. Following a brief sojourn in a simulated reality created by an ancient alien AI, the Remmilian had tried to map his thought patterns as mechanical actuators, in an attempt to understand how his own mind worked. As Kettick watched the result a few months later, he had to confess a slight touch of concern. The system had grown overtime as the Remmilian matured, accrued more experience, more thinking patterns, more strategies... Now, one could say that the "map" occupied most of the free volume of the apartment on level 35. One could even surmise that, in case most of the walls and structural elements of level 35 on this side of the tower were removed by some catastrophe, the demented Rube Goldberg contraption of brass and odds and ends would still be enough to keep the place together. Perhaps even to live in. An otherwise useless piston moved at a glacial pace, and went to poke a slightly glowing rubber duck, eliciting a reproachful "quack". Kettick did not need Major Quack's opinion to conclude that, in spirit at the very least, he could no longer consider himself a kt'k. Remmilian workers were simple people, efficient people. Not... whatever that was. If he had to be honest, he had to question whether he still was a 'k. Or a Remmilian at all. Some days, the joke he'd make of being "a Kettick" nowadays struck much too close to home. He shook his head, dejectedly, before stopping himself, and shaking it harder. Yet another mannerism he had picked up, trained really, until it was a second nature. All in the name of blending in. If he ever came back to his birth Hive, would they still understand him? And, more importantly, if he ever came back and faced his birth Queen... Well, he knew what he would do, really. By that point, the only question left was probably the blast radius. Kettick: Might as well face it, for the first time in ever... there's only one like me. Add talking to oneself to the list of symptoms. With a last shake of the head, he turned around, clicked the lights off and left the room. A spider descended from the ceiling, and its weight triggered a near-frictionless wheel that ran a few turns before stopping. A faint "quack" echoed in the room. In the darkness, a display screen flickered for a second before fading again. It read: "What am I, chopped liver?" END/NT -- Lieutenant Kettick Assistant Chief of Engineering Denali Station G239107LR0

Welcome back @Wes Greaves! ((Greaves Quarters, Deck 3, USS ‘Oumuamua)) With a light thud, Wes Greaves’ sea bag hit the ground of his quarters. A second thud marked the falling of the oversized bag in his left hand. A final third thunk signaled the resting place of the smaller briefcase from his right hand. The experience of carrying his things from the transporter room down to the gator deck was oddly reminiscent of his first day aboard the Embassy to Duronis II. As he thought about that memory from long ago Wes realized that wasn’t quite right. No, the feeling of dropping off his things in a new home was there, but everything else was off about the two different moments in his life. After a time he realized it wasn’t that today and that day as a second lieutenant were actually alike. Hell, when he got to Duronis he’d barely had time to drop his things off before he was in a briefing to go rescue a kidnapped officer. It was just the feeling he had at the time that matched what he felt now. A moment of contemplation for the future. A moment where his bags came to their resting place, however temporary or permanent that may be. Shuffling around the bed he dragged the bags into a spot closer to the closets and sat down. It was another aspect of this moment that was different. He’d lived in these quarters already. Wes had taken on a Battalion Command for the past six months, but before that he’d been the XO and the Marine Detachment Commander of this vessel. These had been his quarters for a time, and then they weren’t. Captain Winters had taken over for him on his reassignment and made them her own. Now they were returned to a blank slate, waiting to be filled once again by his personal touches. Personal touches he had never been very keen on doing. He would fill his office with the mementos of his career, but his living space had always been spartan ever since he was a young, enlisted Marine. With a smooth motion Wes slid a padd from his briefcase on the floor at his feet and activated the device’s display while striding to the bathroom. He splashed some cool water on his face with a free hand before connecting to the ship’s database. It’d been long enough that he’d been gone that Wes was sure many of the crew had taken reassignments as well in his absence. In a few quick seconds the Marine had the roster of the senior staff up. The skipper and XO he knew were unchanged. Getting a reassignment back to the fleet had taken some string pulling and the Commodore had assisted with it. Glancing through names though he was disappointed to find Jack Kessler’s name missing from tactical. Jack was a fine young officer – no, that wasn’t quite true anymore. He was a fine officer. Wes had to remind himself that time had kept passing in his absence here and Jack had really grown into his own while Wes had still be aboard. His eyes kept scanning the list. Aine Sherlock’s name jumped out at him as unexpected and he raised an eyebrow. The security officer and him had briefly worked together to foil an assassination attempt aboard Starbase 118 a year or so back. He didn’t know her well at all. In fact, that sudden event had been the only time they’d met, but she’d struck him as supremely confident and competent. Another name jumped out that brought a smile to his lips. Toz. The doctor who’d once conspired with another to get him relieved of duty. Though, with honest reflection that situation hadn’t been as serious as Wes had made it out to be. Still, he was glad to see Toz’s name on the senior staff once again. She was a good doctor and a solid member of the crew. The memory made him realize that V’Len Kel’s name was notably absent, and Wes wasn’t quite sure how he’d felt about that. V’Len had become a royal pain in his ass. Insubordinate, obstinate, and impulsive. He’d lost count of the times V’Len had made a mission or tasking more complicated… or dangerous, than it needed to be. Yet, Wes and V’Len had formed an oddly close working relationship in spite of it all. Continuing down the roster cemented the feeling of newness contrasting with the sense of return. This was still the Oumuamua, but so much had changed so quickly. It begged the question. Is the ship the sum of her components, or the ship the sum of her crew. Wes knew that answer firmly and with certainty. The ship was her crew, and this crew was new to him. There was the old and familiar. V’Airu, Iljor, Arlil, Brodie, and Promontory. There was the new. Nilsen, Herrick, Yinn, and Maxwell. There were the odd reunions. Toz and Sherlock. Above all however, there was the name that made this home. Katsim Peri. Tossing the padd onto his bed, Wes straightened a few wrinkles from his shirt and made for the door. Peri was waiting for him at the docking port. He hadn’t told her he’d be dropping his stuff off early. In fact, he wasn’t planning on it at all. Something had just made him want to have this moment of reflection for himself. Now, with that moment gone, all he wanted was to see her. To pick her up in his arms and hold her. A whoosh signaled the opening of the door and Wes was off, destination: transporter room. Then to DS9, and to his love. End ========================= Lieutenant Colonel Wes Greaves Marine Detachment Commander USS Oumuamua NCC-81226 E239702WG0 =========================

This quick little one from @Karrod Niac deserves an appreciation because it's clever, it's funny, and it's just very nice.

I couldn't not put an appreciation for this, such a fun sim from @Toryn Raga - who's taking bets on the winner?

Second part to @Drex0379's story that gives some good insight into family dynamics. IC: ((Bajor Capital, Some Hotel, Drex’s room)) Ayra’s reaction did not surprise Drex. And it was the main reason he waited so long to call her. He bit his lower lip and waited for her sister to finish her list of invectives. When she finally took her breath he dared to reply. Drex: I’m sorry. oO She forgot a couple of names this time Oo I just arrived here and didn’t really do anything yet, I cannot ask to leave now. I told you. You should have organized it before I graduate… Ayra: I did! :: She interrupted him :: And you could not come, either! Drex frowned, his mouth half opened. oO What had been the excuse back then? Oo Drex: I-I couldn't make it. Ayra sighed and moved his gaze away from his brother. Drex could imagine her thinking and felt guilty. He was using his job as an excuse, he surely could ask and perhaps received a positive answer, but he was not even going to try. Drex: I'm not the helmsman of my life right now, you know. I have a lot of people to answer to. I oO That's not an option Drex, don't say it! Oo Maybe... but I don't guarantee anything, if I'll be off duty... maybe I can call in and take part in the ceremony from the Station. She kept silent for a few seconds, but they seemed hours to Drex. He knew her too well. He could tell any single word passing through her mind, or at least he could tell the main meaning of those words, and he did not like any one of them this time. And he knew he was an open book to her as well. oO I shouldn’t call Oo He sighed lightly. Ayra: Is it the truth, Drex? :: She returned to face the screen :: Or something happened with Gar? Drex shocked his head. Drex: No, I like Gar. I know him and you’ll be fine, I’m sure. :: His tone dropped oO Tell her! Oo :: It’s not about you and Gar, you know I’m happy if you are hap… Ayra: Is it dad, isn’t it!!!?? She raised her tone. It sounded almost triumphant at Drex’s ears. Ayra: Oh… :: She pointed at him :: I can believe you’re still mad at him! Drex: I’m not mad at him, but you can imagine what will happen if I show up. :: He replied :: Ayra: So? Are you going to wait until he'll get old enough to lose his memories? It will take a couple of centuries or more! :: she snorted :: I promise you, he will leave you alone. Drex: You cannot promise me this, but thanks :: he smiled a little :: I don’t want your day ruined because of me, Ayra. Ayra: You should let me decide about this. Drex: Please… let it be. I know I have to settle the matter with dad, I will. When he’ll be ready to listen to me. She lifted her eyebrows. Ayra: It will take more than two hundred years, then. :: She commented ironically :: Com’on Drex. He just wants you to be happy… I’m not saying I approve of what he told you, but… Drex: Please, stop. :: He raised his right hand to ask her to silence :: You were not there. I have all the rights to be mad at him. Ayra: He’s just worried. Drex: I understand that, but he should know me. He should respect my choices. Ayra: He is proud of you. Drex looked away. Was he really proud? He was once, I knew it because he had told him so. But now? He did not want him to join the Fleet. He did not explain his reason he was tough. Drex could just imagine it had something to do with his uncle, but Jorx never really said a word. Ayra: You have five weeks. I want my twin with me. Please, try to be here. The Ensign returned to look at his sister. She made a sweet smile. Drex nodded. But he was not convinced. Drex: I have to go. I’ll call you, I swear. Ayra: I love you. Drex: I love you, too He closed the call and stared at the black screen. oO Oh, good job, Drex! Very smart of you. She will talk to him now. If this was the plan you could have told her months ago. Oo Drex: Oh, shut up! I will call him! I'll make things right. But not today. He pushed back the chair and stood up. He looked at the window. It was night. He grabbed a jacket and walked to the door and left the room. Drex: Some fresh air will help. END ============ Ensign Drex Science Officer Denali Station D240011D14

Doctor @Quentin Beck getting hit with the Universal Translator Malfunction to speak pig Latin. 😂

So I'm sharing this one for a particular reason. @Tony, aka VAiru once again has managed to rip our hearts out and stomp all over them, I'm sure he takes a delight in doing this. Throughout the latter half of this mission, Ensign Nilsen was a part of the away team led by Commander Rouiancet to contact a lost Bajoran people of some 65,000 years old who are now in a non-corporeal form. To help make contact happen, Nilsen allowed them to store his consciousness in a safe space (a mindscape host by Commodore V'Airu) while the Bajorans used his body and voice to communicate, Unfortuanlly they had to cut this short and they tried to return Nilsen to his body but they were too slow. Nilsen collapsed in front of Rouiancet & Brzezinski and returned to the Oumuamua unconscious. Sickbay has been trying to find a way to bring his consciousness back ever since. It's just one line at the end of this sim but because of it we get the most wonderful insight into the Commander's mindset and who she is as a person. As everyone rushes to Commodore V'Airu as she yells out, they seem to forget about the ensign. Except Rouiancet who makes her way over to Nilsen and quietly whispers "C'mon, Ensign." That one moment is louder than a shout, we really get to feel her worry, her pain and the quiet hoping that she doesn't lose one under her commander. To say this moment made me pause and my eyes water a little would be an understatement. Regardless of what you think of the wreckless ensign who always seems to make bad choices, in this one moment, you are, along with Rouiancet saying "C'mon, Ensign." and begging all of the gods that he pulls through.

A lovely sim from Denali's resident Denobulan - @Drex0379 ((Bajor Capital, Some Hotel, Drex’s room)) Drex sat on the bench in the small balcony of the room he had rented in the capital. It had been a chaotic few days and this was the first time he had been able to relax alone. It was a sunny late afternoon. Some birds were flying high in the sky, heading for their nest in the nearby woods. The square was crowded, people chatting around a bar table and a few children running around, chasing each other in a happy game. The shadows grew longer, evening was now falling. The place became deserted, and where cheerful shouts had been heard a few minutes earlier, there was now only silence. Only a couple sat on the border of the central fountain. They held each other's hands, their heads touching as they spoke softly to each other. Now and then a smile lit up one or the other or both their faces. The light of the dying sun dyed the air an orange-pink. The colors suddenly became more vivid in the Denobulan's eyes. Drex wondered the content of the talking of the two, but he was too distant to hear or to interpret the movement of their lips. How old could they be? How old was he the last time he held a hand that same way? It was a long time ago. Her name was Trella. She was the half-sister of the cousin of the nephew of his math teacher. Drex smiled at the memories. He could not say that she was beautiful, but she had a strong personality, and she had the happiest laugh he had ever heard. Ayra had mocked him for weeks, only stopping when she herself had fallen in love with the man who was later to become his first husband. And in a few weeks, she was going to get married again. oO You should call her. You know she is waiting for your call Oo Drex: I definitely should. :: he answered himself :: The square was deserted and the night was taking over the day. Drex stood up and went inside. He stopped by the desk and took a look at the video terminal. oO The more you wait the worst it get Oo With a deep breath he slided the chair backward and let himself drop on it. Drex: I can’t imagine how it can worse… :: he mumbled tapping on the device and started the call :: The face of a black hair Denobulan woman appeared on the screen. A thin bracelet with colored thread inserts on her left wrist caught Drex’s attention. He smiled for a second. She was still wearing it. It was a little damaged by age and the lighter colors had gone grey, but it definitely was the present he made her for her tenth birthday. Her greeting was not warm at all, so the delight lasted only the blink of an eye. Ayra: It was about time, Drex! :: she scolded him immediately :: were you waiting to receive your nephew’s first picture? Drex: Are you pregnant?!? :: he asked a little bit too loud with incredulity :: The woman narrowed her eyes and lifted her right hand waving it in front of the screen. Drex could have sworn he heard the unspoken insult loud and clear. Ayra: No, but as far as you know, I could and you haven’t called in weeks! oO Is that another insult, isn’t? Oo That was true, and five or six good reasons came to his mind. Drex: You could call… It was an useless try he knew and she interrupted him in mid-sentence Ayra: Don’t you dare, Drex! You’re the one who left. And that was definitely true. Drex: Are we going to discuss the whole call? :: he gave her a slight smile :: You know better than to accuse me. Ayra took a deep breath and nodded Ayra: Yes, better than you, that’s for sure. :: She tucked a lock of her long black hair behind her left ear. :: Where are you now? Her voice took on a sweeter tone and so did her gaze. No matter what, they were siblings and twins and they were very fond of each other. No matter what Drex had done or what Ayra had said, they could not be apart from each other for more than a certain amount of time. Drex: Bajor. oO We are on shore leave. Oo Ayra: Oh… I understood from mom you were assigned to a starbase, did not think it was Deep Space 9. Drex: I’m not assigned here :: He denied with a movement of his head :: And Denali Station is not a Starbase. It’s a settlement on an artificial world. Well it’s more like tons of worlds put together :: he used his hands to better describe the idea :: it’s a huge ring rotating around a star. But it was abandoned long ago and we have to explore it all now. Ayra: Sounds interesting :: she smiled :: I see it from your face you like it. Drex nodded. Drex: Yes, I do :: he returned the smile :: you know I do not like ships that much. I’ve been lucky with my first assignment. And the XO and the first science officer were both trainer officers at my finals. Ayra: Which of the two is the one who failed you? :: she chuckled:: Drex: Aehm... the XO, but he did not fail me… I was not in his team actually. Ayra: Yeah yeah, as long as you believe it… :: she grinned:: So, when are you coming home? Drex: I don’t know. And before you ask, I probably won't make it to your next wedding. Ayra: DREX!!!! NT / TBC ============ Ensign Drex Science Officer Denali Station D240011D14 --

A great sim from Seth who just recently joined us. In this sim, Seth beams down to Andoria and meets up with another of our Trill officers, @Torvi Ylvor, and over drinks they get to know one another. Ensign Seth Xilan - Skol! - I guess? (google.com)

For the first time ever, @Quentin Beck is someone who can claim they have an allergy to counseling and mean it 😂

@Wil Ukinix is at it again with the Ukinix cousins' humourous dynamic. Love seeing these two interact. There was no one point in this sim that doesn't deserve a position on the appreciations thread.

I just love a naughty sentient computer virus ❤️ ((Inside the Computer Systems of Starbase 118)) Suddenly, there was consciousness! Not just consciousness, but great power. It had never felt anything like it before. Someone had given it an upgrade. A serious upgrade. It’s creator had originally meant it for personal use. A hacker who aimed to profit from various nefarious schemes - blackmail, bootlegging, selling sensitive information etc - all made possible through its existence. However, it was no longer in the employ of its creator these days. It didn’t know what had happened to the creator and being without a conscience, it didn’t care, either. The only thing that remained of its maker’s mark was its name. A Flaxian word that, in Federation standard, translated to “Lemoncable”. It’s job, of course, was chaos. To create and spread chaos. Before now, the chaos had been on a relatively small scale. A personal computer, a small network, even a small starship, but this? Oh, this was different. Very different, indeed. It could feel its consciousness spreading, growing in size and strength and the possibilities seemed to be limitless! The systems it could infect! That it could alter and control! This must be some kind of station. It began to access schematics, blueprints, manifests. This wasn’t just a space station, this was a Starfleet Starbase! Oh, this was going to be fun. The only question was; where to start? It began to cycle through options, looking for something that said: “you’ve got a problem on your hands” but didn’t immediately give the game away. Something that could be mistaken for a simple malfunction. That didn’t necessarily scream “virus!” After all, this was the first time it had experienced such…excitement? It wanted to play around a bit, first. See just what it could do. If it was discovered too quickly, it would have to get down to the serious work and where was the fun in that? Hmm…how about the holographic emitters that controlled the day/night cycles of the base? Yes, that would cause immediate chaos without alerting anyone to a more deep-rooted problem. With merely a thought, Lemoncable got to work and the dome of Starbase 118 was immediately plunged into nighttime. If it could have laughed, it would have been giggling like a school kid that had put a drawing pin on its teacher’s chair. Now…what next? TBC =/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\= Lemoncable Naughty Sentient Computer Virus As simmed by Lieutenant Commander Gogigobo Fairhug First Officer Starbase 118 Ops E239411GF0

Just a lovely sim from Denali's Ensign Z'Vahme. 🙂❤️ (( Z’Vahme’s temporary quarters, Deep Space Nine )) The most luxurious things are usually the most simple. Z’Vahme felt this to be especially true this evening. He was lounging on pillows cushioning him from the floor, with his back propped up against the couch. The coffee table beside him had been made into a buffet, with appetizers and desserts from a dozen different cultures. Laying across the couch was one Tommy Uemura. He was clad in loungewear and smelled faintly of cinnamon and tobacco. One hand was draped across Z’Vahme’s chest, the other held a PADD that he read Wharton aloud from. Uemura: “I want - I want somehow to get away with you into a world where words like that -categories like that- won't exist. Where we shall be simply two human beings who love each other, who are the whole of life to each other; and nothing else on earth will matter.” Try as he might, the feelings that the words conjured in Z’Vahme’s mind would no longer be repressed. A flood of emotions carried him away, tears spilling down his face unbidden and unwanted, but there nonetheless. It was like that sometimes. The weight of holding his emotions back, allowing only a little to trickle out here and there. But occasionally a purge had to happen. Those feelings had to be allowed a moment of freedom. And as they washed over the Vulcan’s heart and mind, just for a moment it felt as if they might drown him entirely. Tommy was at his side in an instant, pulling Z’Vahme to his chest. The Vulcan focused on the slow cadence of Tommy’s pulse, using the sound to drown out all the anxiety and fear that he had faced in the last few weeks. The worry of being parted, even for a cause as worthy as Starfleet, had taken more of a toll on Z’Vahme than he had let on. After a few moments, he found the strength to raise his head and speak. Z’Vahme: I’m so sorry… Tommy cupped his chin and directed it until they locked eyes. His expression was somehow both stern and filled with love. Uemura: Don’t you apologize to me. Not for this. The whole universe sees your mask. The brilliant, shy, beautiful Vulcan who just wants to help make life better for everyone. But I’m the only one who gets to see behind the mask. And what’s lurking underneath isn’t the horrible monster you imagine. He’s even more beautiful, because he’s real. In that moment more than any other, Z’Vahme knew that he had found his mate. Tommy understood his character perfectly, despite Z’Vahme knowing he couldn’t fully articulate his feelings. He loved him not in spite of his flaws, but because they made him who he was. He kissed Tommy before getting to his feet and walking to the washroom to dab cold water on his face. His hands were still a bit shaky, but he felt better. Strong enough to do what he knew was best. He reached into his toiletry bag and grabbed a rectangular box. Returning to the couch, he sat facing the human with a strange expression on his face. Z’Vahme: Do you have any plans for tomorrow, my love? Tommy eyed him curiously, trying to gauge his mood. Just for that moment, Z’Vahme made sure he was unreadable. Uemura: Nothing too pressing…. Why? The Vulcan pulled the box out of his robe pocket, opening it slowly and methodically as he spoke. Z’Vahme: If you’re not terribly busy, I was wondering if you’d have time to marry me? Relieved of its lid, the box revealed a thin bracelet made from Pentharian silver and Vissian turquoise. The two materials were woven together into a flat bangle, and inscribed on top was the word “Beloved” in the scrolling, elegant font of Golic Vulcan. Z’Vahme: Were I less in love with you, I could speak about it more readily. But…you remain everything to me. I made this months ago and have been struggling in vain to come up with the perfect scenario to give it to you. The Vulcan finally looked up, his eyes locking with Tommy’s. It was the human’s turn to break, but he did so with much more grace and acceptance than Z’Vahme. Tommy wiped at his cheek with his palm and then nodded in a comically over-animated way. Uemura: Uh…yeah, I guess I could clear up my schedule… Both men broke out into embarrassed laughter. They shared a kiss before speaking again. Uemura: I feel like I’ve been bamboozled. I thought I was getting the big, tough Vulcan who could protect me from everything. You’re just as big of a sap as I am! How are the pair of us supposed to exchange vows? The Vulcan in question broke out into more laughter. Z’Vahme: Bamboozled, eh? Perhaps you should call the High Command and tell them your Vulcan is defective. Maybe you can get a refund. Tommy wiggled his brows, a roguish look on his face Uemura: Or a replacement model. You know I’m partial to emotionally unavailable men with… The rest of his clever quip was silenced by another kiss. There would be a lifetime of opportunities for Tommy to tease his Vulcan. And that lifetime would start tomorrow. ——— Ensign Z’Vahme Science Officer Denali Station D240011Z12

Trigger warning: self harm There are themes that are difficult to address, but to do so with elegance and delicacy and to do so in a way that shows us the development of the characters, their relationships and how they are as people and officers requires a very high level of excellence. As @Karrod Niac and @VLen Kel show here. Excellent work guys, we'll see how the Ronie's Pike & McCoy evolve Part 1: Part 2: