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  1. (( Starbase 11 - Strike Lanes Bowling Alley )) :: After Rustyy had left to settle the tab and perhaps throw some balls himself, Sol turned back to Essen with a grin. :: McLaren: So, you ready to give this a shot? Sinda: I guess so. I’m only gonna regret it if I don’t. McLaren: Alright. I’ll go get the shoes… Sinda: Thanks Sol. :: Sol nodded, and headed up to the counter to get them both some incredibly tacky footwear. She soon returned, holding out a pair to Essen :: Sinda: Classy. ::dryly:: :: She leaned back in the seat and plonked her boots on the tabletop. Unlacing them took some time but she finally slipped on the colourful shoes and promptly skidded on the floor, grabbing onto Sol for support. :: McLaren: :: Sol reached out, helping to steady Essen. :: That better? Sinda: Thanks! Seems you’re always there when I need you... McLaren: :: Sol smiled. :: Thats what friends are do. :: Essen opened her mouth to speak. Sol had thrown herself in front of a laser to protect Ess on the last mission, an act of incredible self-sacrifice. All the more so as Ess usually assumed she’d be the one putting herself in front of the gun to protect the crew - she was the Security Chief, after all, that was her job. She’d never even considered that someone would do it for her, and that was going to take a little while to process. But not here, in the middle of a noisy bowling alley. :: Sinda: Sorry, I was thinking of something else. Okay, so how does this game work? :: Sol nodded sitting herself down to put on her shoes, looked up at Essen as she did. :: McLaren: The basics of it are you take one of the balls, theyre all different weights, so find you one thats appropriate for you. And your goal is to get it down to the other end of the lane, and knock down all the pins. And you get two throws to do it. Sinda: Any special tricks to the run up? I’m pretty sure I saw the captain skipping up to the line earlier. McLaren: Not really… everyone sort of develops their own style. :: Shrugging, Essen picked up one of the lighter balls and flung it down the wooden aisle. It bounced a couple of times with loud thuds before dropping into the gutter at the side. :: Sinda: So, not like that then? McLaren: :: Sol laughed, not at Essen exactly, but at the whole thing. :: Hmmm, not exactly. Though… that is what my first go looked like... Sinda: Ah, well I’m in good company then! ::grinning:: :: Sol stood and moved just behind Essen, gently taking her wrist. She was close enough to take in Essen’s scent, the faintest odour of sharp, bitter smoke mixed with old leather, and she found it slightly intoxicating. :: McLaren: The way it was explained to me a long time ago… was that you want it to be a smooth motion in time with your steps, :: Sol mimed a smooth swing as she explained. :: and you want the ball to sort of naturally roll from your grip… Sinda: ‘Smooth’ and me don’t usually go well together. :: Sol stepped back, grinning :: McLaren: Though… I was never able to actually put that into practice… so for all I know the person who told me that could have been full of crap… :: Ess watched Sol for a moment as the other woman talked. Her wrist still tingled from where Sol had held it - Ess couldn’t actually remember the last time someone had touched her, it was that long ago. With affection, anyway. Bar room brawls probably didn’t count. :: Sinda: Guess there’s one way to find out. :: Taking a new ball, Ess took a couple of slow steps towards the lane and released the ball so smoothly it barely skimmed the surface. This time it made it almost all the way to the end before falling into the gutter. :: Sinda: Yeah, I reckon they were full of crap. ::She quirked an eyebrow at Sol:: So who was it who told you? McLaren: An acquaintance back on Earth… Im pretty sure he was just full of crap... Sinda: You know Humans have this reputation for just kicking back and playing games. It’s a wonder you ever found time to found the Federation. I’m serious! You ask any alien and they’ll say the same. Humans are the most laid back race out there. All you guys do is have fun and rest on your laurels. McLaren: :: Sol crossed her arms. :: Not all of us are like that! :: she laughed:: Sinda: Hey I’m just saying! ::she held up her hands:: Anyway, pretty sure it’s your go. McLaren: :: Sol nodded. :: It would appear that way. :: Sol collected a ball, testing its weight. She reached up and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, setting herself up for her first throw. She sent the ball rolling down the lane, watching is it made it nearly to the end before tumbling off into the gutter, only knocking over 2 pins. She frowned. :: :: Essen waited while Sol collected her ball and was concentrating on her run up. She found herself smiling at the way Sol absentmindedly tucked a stray strand of her white hair behind her ear. She was undeniably attractive. Ess was still hesitant though. Fun was one thing, and there had been plenty of ‘fun’ at the Academy, but what if Sol wanted more? The ball veered off a little at the end but it was still enough to knock over a few of the pins. Ess shook her head slightly as the sound brought her back into the present - again, more thoughts for another time. Right now, there was fun to be had. :: Sinda: Are you hustling me? McLaren: :: She shook her head. :: No. I’m really just not that good. Sinda: It’s a good job I still have some tricks up my sleeve. McLaren: Oh really? Like what? Sinda: You’ll see. McLaren: :: Sol [...]ed an eyebrow. :: If you say so… :: This time Ess stayed close while Sol collected her ball. Just as she was about to bowl, Ess gave her a sharp pinch on the bum. :: :: Sol retrieved the ball as it came up from the return and then set up again, starting off on her next throw. A sharp pain in her rear cause her to jump, sending the ball down the lane. It stayed on for a moment, before careening off into the gutter. :: McLaren: Hey! What was that for? Sinda: Oh what a shame, you seem to have missed… McLaren: It would appear that way. :: She grinned. :: So this was the trick you were talking about. Sinda: Well as you’re great tactician Sun Tzu once said, “if at first you don’t succeed, cheat.” McLaren: :: Sol blinked. :: I dont think he said it quite like that... Sinda: ::shrugging:: He might have said it when no-one was listening. McLaren: :: She laughed. :: Fair point. :: Sol gestured to the lane. :: Your turn Ess. :: She winked. She had nothing planned, but thought just the idea that she did might throw Essen off. :: Sinda: Just remember, while you’re planning whatever it is that you’re planning, that I can have you arrested. :: The hybrid selected a heavier ball this time, testing its weight. Satisfied with her choice, she rolled it straight down the middle, knocking over all but two pins at either side. :: :: Sol took a seat watching Essen as she got ready for her next throw. She wondered just what Essen thought of their relationship, and found herself wondering where it would lead. She knew her hopes, but could also only hope they were realistic. She was jolted from her thoughts by the sound of pins falling. :: McLaren: Who’s hustling who, Ess? Sinda: I must have slipped or something. McLaren: A likely story. :: She laughed. :: Sinda: Either that or Earth games are just so easy to learn there’s no real skill involved? McLaren: So Ive been told. :: She nodded. :: Come on then, Ess. Lets see if you can get some more. :: Sol again sat back, watching Essen again. She moved with a sort of calculated elegance, that Sol was almost sure was unintentional. She let her eyes trace over Essen’s form, appreciating her thin build. She made sure to not be openly ogling when Essen turned around after her throw. She had missed how many pins she had gotten though. :: McLaren: oO Youre getting distracted Sol… but what a fantastic distraction… Oo Nice shot. Sinda: Is that sarcasm? I missed them both. :: She threw herself down on the seat opposite Solaris with her usual lack of grace. :: McLaren: :: Sol blushed, caught in her distraction. :: Well, they were nice attempts… :: She was quick to cover, chuckling. :: (( Several frames of bowling later. )) Sinda: It’s getting late. I have some work I need to sort out back on the ship. :: She bent down and started unlacing the bowling shoes. :: McLaren: Oh? Need any help? Sinda: I appreciate the offer, but it’s something a bit… private. Nothing serious, just a thing I need to look into. McLaren: :: Sol nodded. :: Fair enough, still, let me know if you do. Sinda: Looks like just your final frame left. ::she gestured at the scores:: Unless you completely mess it up, I reckon you’ve got me beat. McLaren: :: Sol glanced at the scores, seeing that it was the truth. Her last ball would decided who won or lost, or even if they tied. :: It would seem that way... Sinda: There was one last trick, actually. I wasn’t sure about using it but figure what the hells. McLaren: Well… this I have to see... :: Ess stepped close to Sol until their bodies were touching and in one swift movement slid her arms around the other woman and kissed her. Not a gentle, affectionate kiss but aggressive and passionate, like everything else Essen did. It lasted less than half a minute but felt much longer. Finally Ess stepped back with an impish look in her dark eyes. :: :: Sol was startled for a moment, before feeling herself ease into the kiss. She found herself wishing it had lasted longer when Essen stepped away. :: McLaren: oO ifreann Fola… Oo :: She blinked, still processing what had just happened. :: ( OOC: Roughly: Bloody hell…) Sinda: ‘Night Solaris. Good luck with your last ball. Hope you’re not too distracted… :: Bare-footed and with her boots in one hand, Essen spun on her heel and wandered towards the exit. :: McLaren: ‘Night, Ess... :: Sol watched her retreating form for a moment, then looked back to the lane. Suddenly the game was the furthest thing from her mind. :: Right focus… ball. Down lane. :: Sol picked up the ball she had been using and readied herself. She started her run up and sent the ball down the lane. And then she turned away, almost not wanting to see the final score. She turned back though, and grinned. :: 140-140… After that… thats about what I expected… :: Sol sat down and removed her own shoes, switching into her boots and making her way out of the alley, letting her thoughts wander as she made her way back to the ship. :: ~~~ Lieutenant (JG) Solaris McLaren Chief Intelligence Officer U.S.S. Constitution NCC-9012-B C239210SM0 & Lt Commander Sinda Essen Chief of Security USS Constitution-B R238401JT0
  2. ((No'Vok Prime)) ::Ashes and death. That was all that was left of the small settlement on No'vok Prime, the air still hung heavy with the stink of the bodies of the fallen and the shattered husks of buildings draped in a pall of black, pungeant smoke. There were no survivors to the merciless and brutal attack, only the steady pinging of the automatic distress call that had echoed out of the colony's central communication centre before being little more then another hiss in the background radiation of the system. Dempok's boots crunched in the shattered debris. Where once was six thousand Klingon civilians and workers, there was now nothing save for the last dregs clinging to the sole of his foot. The attack had been unprovoked, unwarranted and a complete act of barbarity that made even his own veteran stomach churn:: Warrior: Councillor, we have found it. ::Dempok turned, his beard flicking in the light breeze as he narrowed his eyes to make out the figure of his small away team clutching a metal box. The last recorded moments of what had been a bustling hive of progress, locked inside the resilient data recorder that every ship, starbase and base carried with them:: Dempok: Good. ((IKS S’Tarahk)) ::There was nothing more to say, no ears to hear the silent prayer he offered the departed to guide them to Sto-Vo-Kor, not that their spirits would find peace, fell in a way that didn't fit the aspirations of any warrior or true citizen of the Empire. The burning vestige mercifully vanished in a red haze, replaced with the dark metal interior of the S’Tarahk's transporter bay. The Warriors took the device with them, no doubt towards the ships computer core as Dempok strode towards the bridge of the narrow Vor'Cha cruiser, his thoughts marred with the sense of anger boiling through his veins. There would be a price to pay for this, a terrible one that would be wrought with his ships disruptor cannons or preferably by his own D'k tahg should the enemy offer an honourable fight, which he doubted.:: Science Officer: The box has been connected, we have the last few minutes of sensor readings, vocal... it is heavily damaged, Sir. ::Dempok gestured towards the viewscreen with a gauntlet-ted finger, the fuzzy image of a Klingon woman appearing suspended in time. Governer Krell, if he remembered correctly. She'd bravely stepped up to offer to administer the colony, despite knowing how deep it was into the frontier, her pioneering spirit would be remembered:: Krell: ..der attack! Coun.... casual... ::The screen froze again, skipping ahead a few moments before the computer finally peiced together what little remained into someting more coherent.:: Krell: This is Goverenor Krell to any imperial ships in range, we are under attack! We have countless casualites... this, this is responsible! ::The screen jumped again to another fuzzy image, slowly coming into focus. A large green blur finding clarity, ice forming in Dempok's chest as he slammed his fist down on his seats large armrest.:: Dempok: D'Deridex... Krell: They are not responding to hails, our planetary batteries are having no effects! We need h- ::There was an explosion, a scream, then nothing save for the Imperial emblem and numbers rolling across the bottom of the screen giving the last telemetry. Energy spikes, temperature readings elevating sharply as the emergency control centre was reduced to constituent atoms.:: Tekal: The Romulans! Honorless dogs... our colony was defenceless! ::His first officer snarled in rage, standing to his flank as Dempok continued to look at the now empty screen.:: Dempok: How many ships do we have in range? Science Officer: None Councillor. The IKS Varaktyl is five days away at maximum warp, B'rel class. ::Woefully inadequate support, a Bird of Prey would do little more then shatter like glass under the warbirds firepower:: Dempok: Did anyone else receive the signal we just triggered? Tekal: The message was sent to high-command automatically as per your instruction. ::By now he had no doubt that the dogs of war were baying in the council's chambers. The same ones that had sent him post-haste to investigate the mysterious signal now validated in their grave concerns. He'd let them watch the results right along with him and rapidly his screen flashed up once again with the grim face of General Crang, the regional imperial military commander. Crang: The Romulans?! What cause would they have to attack us... this cannot go unpunished! Dempok: It doesn't stand to reason, General. None of this does. A single Warbird, attacking an unarmed colony. The Romulans are cowardly and devious I fully agree, but surely they are not this foolhardy... Crang: We may argue if they are or not, but a world of the Empire burns! The evidence speaks for itself, Councillor. Dempok: It does, General. I too wish to avenge every citizen and child of the colony. I can only offer a word of caution, the Romulans are in no position to start a war... ::Crang ignored him, his loud voice barked orders off screen as Dempok lent forward in his chair, fingers steeped. Everything seemed wrong, yet so line with the hit and run attacks a broken Empire would attempt against their adversary if they wanted a war. Hit and run, strike from the shadows... but the choice of target was what caused him concern. No'Vok was a farming world, of no strategic importance. It wasn't local enough to serve as a staging area, it didn't have defences or materials worth more then any average ore. Which meant, it was little more then a target of opportunity. Which meant they -wanted- someone to come and investigate, it was a distraction.:: Crang: The Second and Fifth Imperial Fleets are mobilising as we speak on a war footing Councillor. They will arrive within six days, either stand and defend or get your ship away from there. If it is war the Romulans want, we shall be ready and we will -break- them. Dempok: I will remain General. I may be a politician, but I am a Warrior by birth. ::Crang rewarded him with a begrudging nod of approval before the communication line closed.:: Dempok: Commander, engage cloaking device and sound general quarters. I want every frequency, every communication monitored for any sign of attack. ::For once Tekal nodded, foregoing his usual hot-hotheadedness, before issuing his orders as the ship descended into a noise of klaxons and flickering lights. He muttered quietly under his breath, a single passage from the famed Klingon author who wordsmith-ed war like a tapestry:: Dempok: "Sound trumpets, let our bloody colours wave. And either victory, or else a grave". ::Peace, that had reigned for decades, was beginning to crumble and he was there on the cusp of the wave about to crash upon them all:: MSPNC Councillor Dempok By Major. Tatash Marine Lead SB118 Operations C239108T10
  3. ((First Officer’s Office)) ::There sat . . . lay . . . the Rodulan in his office, face down on his desk lightly snoring. He hadn’t managed to return to his quarters in time before he finally collapsed unconscious on top of the numerous PADDs waiting for him to sign off. He was out of uniform, having decided upon docking to Astrofori One, he was technically off duty. Or as “technically” as being First Officer would allow him to be off duty.:: Officer: =/\= Astrofori One to Commander Core. =/\= ::It roused him, if only barely, the man scrunching his eyebrows, his nose, before finally straightening up with a half-hearted stretch. ::Seven hours sleep. It was better than none, he supposed.:: Core: =/\= Core here. =/\= Officer: =/\= There’s a woman here in docking bay 2B by the name of Venxi asking for you. =/\= ::It was a joke. It had to be. There was no way. Why would a Rodulan ever come out to Astrofori One - there was nothing here for his people, let alone *Yanata*! ::Maybe it was a mistake. A lure to get him away from his desk, his oh so comfy desk.:: Core: =/\= Give me a few minutes. =/\= ::Just the idea of having Yanata within arms reach was too much of an opportunity to miss. He had to see for himself. Maybe it wasn’t her, maybe it was a case of mistaken identity - but he had to be sure before he came to a conclusion. So a quick change of clothes and a spash of water later, and he was off to the docking bay.:: ((Astrofori One docking bay)) ::Yanata Venxi was a dark olive skinned, brown haired, wide-eyed beauty to behold, even if she looked mildly flushed and uncomfortable around other strange looking species and beings Tristam himself had grown accustomed to. Even when standing in a docking bay full of people, Tristam could spot her immediately upon entering - he knew that carefully-planned and executed hair bun a mile away, those judging eyes analysing and criticizing everything around her. Not to mention that she was a comforting void within the buzzing minds of the officers and civilians around him. ::He must have been for her, too, because as soon as he stepped within those doors, her attention went immediately to him. It was easy to identify a Rodulan mentally when faced with about a hundred people’s worth of minds. The Rodulan would be the empty void - a silent buzz, but no sound coming from them.:: ::Tristam almost tripped over running to her.:: Core: I can’t believe you’re here- I don’t even- how did you- Yanata:::scolding:: Broebas Daneil Tristam Core! ::He’d been stunned to silence at the sound of what his full name was when structured within her Krzexxi titling, though he’d snapped immediately back into her heritage custom. As her hands roughly took hold of his cheeks, his own found her shoulders - she was at least a foot shorter than he was and had about thirty years more experience in life, but for the first time since leaving home, he felt as though he finally had a proper equal, someone who would frown at him if he held his utensils wrong, spoke in a slurred and unprofessional tongue (of which lately he’d been doing a lot), to have his manners finally corrected and basotile critiqued. Her eyes bore into his, but not in an unpleasant way. Instead, they displayed her fondness and familiar openness to him, as well as likely judging his scruffiness and rings around his eyes. It felt like a millennia since he’d been able to comfortably achieve this sort of greeting, let alone a form meant only for family. There was only one other woman he’d willing allow to assault his cheeks, after all.:: ::He’d been missing home for so long, and here was home, now brought to him by his sister in basotile.:: Core: You’re really here. On Astrofori One, so far from Rodul! Why didn’t you *call* - I would have been here to- Yanata: If I was capable, trust me, I would have. But it was a last minute thing - and the *technology* is just *unuseable* off world! I do not know how you can possibly stand it at all! ::It takes practice, he mused. The first time he held a PADD, he couldn’t make heads or tails of it. And now, as a components expert, he was considerably better at working with all sorts of tech. Rodulan interfaces were far more simple, and didn’t require learning the meaning of thousands of various numbers and codes to work properly. Then again, Rodulan computers were never designed for space exploration.:: Core: Wha- how’d you even *get* here? Yanata: Cardassian transport system. Part of the political apology was the creation of a transport between Basul Rodul and another spaceport I can’t possibly remember the name of but is within Cardassian space. I think. Honestly, whenever I get off Rodul, it’s just one giant black bowl of pointlessness. ::Tristam blinked. That answered *one* of his questions, he supposed.:: Core: *Why* are you here!? Don’t get me wrong, this is one of the best gifts the Artist has given me in about ten years, but . . . *why*? Yanata: You have so many questions. Didn’t Taywor tell you? Core: The reason you’re here? Yanata: Yes. Core: *No*! No he *didn’t*! ::The woman gave a deep, Rodulan kind of frown Tristam hadn’t seen for too long, shaking her head in what some people would call over-emphasized. In fact, her body movements so far had made her the most conspicuous thing in the bay:: Yanata: Relations with the Cardassians is better. Much better. So we’re having some talks about trade and what not. I am here as one of the representatives - I’m to relay a couple of deals, give responses, that sort of thing. There is a few of us, actually. The Cardies set up travel documents for us. ::Though he cringed as his sister’s use of “Cardies” whilst in public, he had to muse about the situation she’d presented to him. Rodulans and Cardassians working hand in hand. Tristam sincerely hoped that was so they could milk the Cardassians for whatever they had after the whole occupation apology. It hadn’t been in Tristam’s time, but for some Rodulans, it might as well have been yesterday. Not pleasant, but at least they’d been able to move on without forming any Maquis-like ‘retribution’ groups.:: Core: Why Astrofori One? Yanata: Neutral ground. Betreka Nebula seems to be uneasy at the moment - one of your Starfleet ships investigated a “distress call”, or so I heard, so the Defense Force is on high alert because of them, and won’t allow diplomatic meetings until their problems have been sorted. Of course, that could take years, and as per usual, they didn’t want to have Cardassians in their space for too long. They were getting a bit nervous. And we do not really want to be on Cardassia Prime just yet, now do we? ::Made sense.:: Core: Okay, well, uh . . . do you have some place to stay? Yanata: No, I plan on sleeping in a dirty corridor somewhere- of *course* I have accomodation. What’s the matter with you? Did you leave your brain in a bin somewhere? Core: I’m just trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’re actually here! Yanata: Well wrap it quickly. I would like to get out of here and settled as soon as possible. I am hoping you can help me around this place because the design seems like an absolute *nightmare*- ::As she took a step forward, she stumbled, Tristam having to catch her before she ended up on the floor. After a few deep breaths, she straightened up, tugging her shirt down a little as she regained her faculties.:: Yanata: I am fine. It has been a long trip. Core: Long trip worth of space-sickness. Didn’t the Cardassians have doctors aboard? Yanata:::sighing:: I do not need to speak with any doctors of any kind. ::She paused, gripping his arm a little tighter.:: Though this nausea *is* getting worse the more the station rocks. Core: All the more reason to take you to medical. ((Guest quarters, Astrofori One)) ::A trip to medical had Yanata's symptoms of space sickness sorted, she'd retired to her quarters demanding time to settle and some privacy - given her overbearing nature, Tristam bid her a good night and instead returned to his own quarters for a good nights rest, looking forward to giving his sister-in-baso the tour of the station. ::When she answered the door to her guest quarters, Tristam found her cross-legged on the floor, feet bare, eyes concentrated purely on the clay-like substance currently at her hands. ::Basotile. ::He hadn't seen another Rodulan work with basotile since . . . well, since forever. Though basotile was grand in its expression, his family often worked with it in seclusion. Yanata was the only one of the household whom would openly craft. At first it was a quality of hers that he constantly questioned, but now it was something he took comfort in. It felt as though a large weight had been lifted from his shoulders.:: Core: I didn't mean to disturb you. Yanata: I am almost done. I will be with you in a minute. ::Yanata wasn't using tools to mold the clay, instead shaping it with her hands. So far, it was simply a cube, patterns traced within it by her smallest finger. She was currently digging out clay from the top. ::Tristam set himself down at the table, staring at his sister-in-baso in a way Gamighan would have likely called 'rude', but one she was not adverse to. When she finally completed the small sculpture, it had taken form of a strange cup. She removed her hands, leaving the basotile on the table as she got up to wash them, toes stretching as she cleaned the remaining craftments from her fingernails.:: Yanata: I am afraid I won't have time for a tour today. My meeting for the trade agreements has been rescheduled for two hours from now. Core: Did they tell you why? Yanata: Yes, but I couldn't make heads or tails of it. Something about some random Dennermé conflict. That is how you say it, yes? Core: Yes. Dennermé. And they’re not exactly known for their subtlety. Yanata: You have heard of them? Core: Spoken to a few of them, actually. You’d like them - they’re very . . . critical. Yanata: Sounds about right, given the Cardassian’s attitude when I asked. You are speaking two dialects, by the way - it’s getting irritating watching your mouth slug over Krzexxi. Choose one or the other. Core: Sorry. ::Krzexxi often used a precise words, children taught away from using contractions as one of the first three words of a sentence in the Western Gate. Laziness was frowned upon when speaking, and given that Tristam had resorted to using three different languages when he’d had problems talking, he hadn’t broken out of it easily. It was a bad habit.:: Yanata: Do not apologise, just don’t do it. Why are you even in the first place? Core: It’s a long story. No one speaks Rodulan dialects on Invicta because of the universal translator, so no one has noticed. Yanata: Consider me surprised Taywor hasn’t pulled you up on it. Core: We’ve been a bit busy focussing on my actual health. Yanata: Hmm. I suppose the fact that you *can* talk is a blessing. ::She nodded to herself, pulling a mug off the bench and placing it in front of Tristam.:: Yanata: I come baring gifts. Core: You didn’t have to- Yanata: Hush. It was a requirement set by your father. ::And just as quickly as she had sat down, she was up and off again, headed to the couch to pick up a crate, heaving it up and dumping it onto the table in front of him. Tristam stood from the table, Yanata unlocking the mechanism.:: Yanata: These are personal effects Gamighan wanted you to have. ::She pointed to each individually.:: Supply of proper basotile, instead of just the clay import- Core: What’s the matter with my clay stuff? Yanata: I am just the messenger, but he said to tell you that clay likely isn’t giving you the workout you need. And since Starfleet doesn’t have a telepathic psychophysiotherapist . . . ::She simply shrugged. Tristam was trying to work out if “psychophysiotherapist” was even a word or if Yanata was just trying to paraphrase Gamighan’s argument somehow.:: Yanata: It may take more time out of your day, but it’ll be worth it in the long wrong. Moving on, there is a couple of blankets, as well as a new copy of the Ozara Sect of Dikken - Taywor thought you might appreciate that. And, of course, an eye of the Artist . . . ::Gingerly, as though she thought she was going to drop and break it, she handed Tristam a chain and pendant. An Eye of the Artist was essentially just a good luck charm, one associated with the belief that the Artist was watching over all, a stainless steel locket, inside holding materials associated with Dikken. The “eye” was the front of the locket, a patterned circle revealing parts of the glow-in-the-dark blue held in a glass container within. ::Because he’d left Rodul, because he was out of the gaze of the Artist, it had felt necessary to keep one with him. It was one of the few connections to home he’d had during his time in Starfleet. He’d lost his original on the Pioneer, having gone missing when they’d rounded up his personal effects to send back to him while he was recovering from the accident (he hadn’t worn it on duty for reason of protocol), and at the time, he was so wound up in losing what might as well have been a limb, that he hadn’t had the capacity for a crisis of faith. It only hit him when he was half-way through his tenure on Seventeen, but he’d been so lucky in his recovery and everything after that, he hadn’t believed it a loss worthy to dwell over.:: Core: Been a while since I’ve seen one of these. ::As if it’d been his original, he pulled it over his head, the pendant settling against his chest as if it hadn’t been years since he’d last had one on. Yanata was trying to hide a smile, pulling the crate off the table and out of the way.:: Yanata: It’s not all I bring. ::She moved off as Tristam continued examining the eye around his neck, heaving up a much larger crate and all but dumping it in the place the other had been.:: ::One of the problems he’d had whilst being away from home was the constant over-stimulation of flavours. Eating non-replicated meals had been a nightmare, and even then, he’d had to endure the use of nutrient pastes for years on end (the Medical Starbase he’d been a resident of for that brief tenure had many a creative solution to this problem) before he finally got around to programming meals or altering them. To this day, he couldn’t prepare a proper meal for Roshanara without instruction to make it more flavoursome and she couldn’t prepare anything for him lest she accidentally burn his tastebuds off. It was a never ending problem, his Attraxan tongue being too sensitive for it’s own good. He was often stuck with eating fish and unseasoned vegetables, soups or stews, customized replicator pastes (essentially what he’d been living on since boarding the Invicta due to it being a quick meal and lack of time to program anything else), or the worst of the bunch, nutrient and protein shakes, but even then, there was the occasional problem. ::But here he was, peering into this ridiculously large crate that Yanata had somehow managed to get aboard a Cardassian passenger transport with likely few questions asked because it was Yanata Venxi doing it and you better have a damn good reason to not let her do it thank you. All he saw were baking ingredients, fresh food, syrups and more. ::It wasn’t even the only crate. She was back over at the couch moving another one towards him.:: Core: How did- what- *why*!? Yanata: Taywor said you were complaining endlessly. ::Where was he two years ago!?:: Core: The Menthar Corridor doesn’t exactly accommodate for Rodulans far away from home. Yanata: I am painfully aware of this. I have been here one day and already I despise everything I smell. You have been living away from home for *years* - I don’t know how you stand it. Core: You get used to it. Yanata: Well, regardless to what you’ve done to work through the fifth sense pain, here is a temporary solution. This is all fixes for tastes. It is not much in the scope of things, but essence of ytic, strom and selt, extract of det, esir and regayo; I figured you could combine those as much as you like and change things up a bit. Herbs and spices as well. Uh . . . ::she held up a cetbe fruit:: fresh produce, fruit and vegetables, obviously. I also brought some diluted vinegar since you love your fish so much. Sweeteners and syrups, so forth. Oh! I called up your personnel office and asked if these can be programmed into your replicator - they said you shouldn’t have a problem and that if you do, you should talk to operations. I did not bring any flour or thickeners or water or anything of the like but I assume you can find substitutes? Core: I’m sure I’ll find something. Yanata: Oh good, because Gamighan was concerned that I should have brought five crates worth. Core: I don’t think you’d have gotten away with that. And I thought you were in a hurry? How’d you manage to find time to call Starfleet yet not call *me*? Yanata: I had two days to prepare. Completely last minute - this on top of all the reporting I had to finish up, you’re lucky I managed to pull anything together at all. ::Yanata was nothing if not efficient. Tristam couldn’t help but glance back at the crates. They’d be his first legitimately Rodulan meal in *years*. He cracked a smile, huffing a laugh, before finally pulling Yanata into a hug. ::He was hugging his sister-in-baso. He hadn’t hugged her in years, hadn’t heard her voice in person for just as long. But here she was, shoulder warm against his chin. Not only that, but she’d showed up on his doorstep and brought his *culture* back.:: ::He had to take a shaky breath to stop tears from forming.:: Yanata: Tristam, are you alright? ::He only held her tighter.:: Core: You have no idea how much I missed you. Tbc . . . LtCmdr Tristam Core First Officer USS Invicta C238803SB0
  4. (( Flashback - Stardate 237510.14, AR-558 (Home Universe) )) Colonel Mason: =/\= Come on, get to the shuttles! We. Are. Leaving! =/\= :: Purple bolts of energy raced passed Toran’s face. He returned the gesture with blasts from his own phaser rifle as he backran to the evacuation shuttle. Four months. He had been assigned to this rock for four long months, defending it from constant and relentless Dominion attacks. There had been too many occasions to count where he nearly met the Gods. He was one of the many replacements aboard the U.S.S. Veracruz Captain Sisko ordered to replace the worn and beaten garrison that had been defending it. And all for a damn communications array. :: :: He hoped the engineers got what they wanted, because they were out of time. Word had come down that the Dominion had allied with the Breen and were deploying a devastating new weapon that disabled nearly every ship they came across. What seemed like hope for the war had suddenly turned to a very real possibility of defeat. The Dominion had retaken the Chin’toka system, within which AR-558 was located. Now the garrison was scrambling to get off the asteroid and out of the system before the Dominion fleet approached the asteroid belt, but the existing Dominion garrison, emboldened by their space fleet’s victory, was making the retreat extremely difficult, and costly. :: Toran Sevo: =/\= All surviving engineers aboard and accounted for, sir! Got a few injured troops, but that’s it! =/\= Colonel Mason: =/\= Alright, time to go! Get your butt over here, Lieutenant! =/\= :: As Toran made the final stretch to the shuttle’s ramp, a massive Jem’Hadar came up from Toran’s blind spot, stabbing him in the thigh with a combat knife. Adrenaline surging through his blood, Toran ignored the pain, twirling on the heel of his boot to face his adversary. He brought out his own knife, cut the Jem’Hadar’s White tube, slashed both his carotid arteries, and stabbed him in the side of his torso, right in the primary heart. It was a vicious technique Toran had used too many times; now it was practically muscle memory. And it once again saved his life. :: Toran Sevo: :: Spitting on the bleeding corpse. :: To hell with you. :: Before leaving, however, Toran bent down, reached into the Jem’Hadar’s tunic, and yanked out his White vial. Another trophy. That made...twenty now? He lost count. With every Jem’Hadar Toran felled in personal combat, he took their White vials as trophies. The Klingons started it, but he, along with many other Federation soldiers, had taken to it with vigor. It was a gruesome and barbaric practice. To hell with egalitarianism; this was plain survival. :: :: He quickly looked at the nearly empty vial in his palm, grasped his hand closed, and ran as best he could with a bleeding leg to the evac shuttle. : : ---------------------------- Second Lieutenant Toran Sevo Starfleet Marine ---------------------------- simmed by ---------------------------- Lt. Commander Ayiana SevoChief Science OfficerU.S.S. GorkonV239109AS0 ---------------------------
  5. (( Bridge - USS (redacted), 2.9 hours from Duronis )) :: Chang sat in the center seat, her face normally placid and calm, but now twisted with rage. Her ship, racing in at Warp Nine, she hoped to get there in time before the Ashoka was torn to bits:: :: She had made her case to both Starfleet Command and Starfleet Intelligence that the mission was too dangerous for one ship, even a Defiant Class, to handle alone. Chang had even worked out where they would rendezvous to give the Ashoka maximum protection. To no avail. She was told in no uncertain terms not to interfere in any way. More than once she had disobeyed orders, but this time, ignoring her gut and what her analysts were telling her, she stayed on station out near The Zone, looking through the debris and asteroid field for more clues.:: :: A beep from the Tactical station caught her attention. Her Tactical Officer, a young Trill woman, spoke:: Tactical Officer: I have five Orion ships on sensors. Two have engaged the Ashoka. Three are of a class we have not seen before, the two engaging are Orion raiders. :: That was not good for the Ashoka. The two raiders closest to her the Ashoka could handle by herself, but it was the three bearing down on her which Chang knew would be the most trouble. Chang knew about the Devastator Class from her sifting through the information from Deka's computer the Shadow Team from the Embassy had captured. Heavily armored, two million tons each, equipped with phasers and photon torpedoes and each ship had the capacity to launch fifty fighters. Extremely formidable, the most powerful warships ever built by the Orions...but Chang knew they had help. Federation help. Chang relayed all that to Starfleet, and to SFI, but it was felt they would not engage a Defiant Class ship so close to Duronis. How wrong they were, and a good starship commander was about to pay the price for brass stupidity:: :: Chang could only watch as the Ashoka was attacked by the first two ships, which she rapidly destroyed, and she was now being besieged by the three new Orion ships:: Tactical Officer: Director...I have four ships on my sensors...three Orion...one Defiant Class. ::That meant they had not destroyed her yet...and the Orions did not have what they were looking for either:: Chang: How long till we arrive? Helm: Twelve minutes, forty one seconds... Chang: Battle stations, arm all weapons... :: Chang had a ringside seat to the battle taking place..it was one of the benefits of having the longest range sensors in the fleet, and it enraged her further to see the Ashoka being systematically carved up. Her Tactical Officer gave her the grim news she could see on screen:: OOC:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eoit0OdKt-I&list=PLH9C08qrQ7S7XKQ9tuYR90d5NhE8cGpqv&index=10 Tactical Officer: The Ashoka's shields are down. The Orions are boarding her Ma'am... :: Before she had even asked, her Helm Officer chimed in:: Helm Officer: Forty five seconds, Director... Chang: Are the Orions' shields still up? Tactical Officer: Yes... Chang: Slow to full impulse. Be ready to open fire at all ships once we close to fifty thousand kilometers... Helm/Tactical Officers: Aye... :: The three Orion ships were bracketing the Ashoka, one off her port bow, one off her starboard bow, one dead ahead:: Chang: Damage to the Orion ships? Tactical Officer: The one nearest us is most damaged, Director.. Chang: We focus on her first... Tactical Officer: All weapons ready and locked on target... Chang: Distance? Tactical Officer: Eighty thousand......seventy....sixty...fifty... :: Those were her magic words:: Chang: FIRE ALL WEAPONS!!!!! :: Chang had never unleashed her entire battery of quantum torpedoes, phaser burst cannons and heavy phasers all at once before, the drain of power so great the lights dimmed to near darkness with the output of power. The results were spactacular. All three ships were hit as Changs' helmsman ducked underneath them and the Ashoka before coming around for another pass. Surprisingly, the Orion ships had not yet moved. Seizing the situation, Chang spoke:: Chang: FIRE AT WILL!!!! :: Nothing in the fleet could out turn a Miranda Class at full impulse, and a very angry starship spit another volley of quantum torpedoes and withering phaser fire before turning again, the panicked Orion ships firing blindly into the void, seeking a target. One was visibly leaking plasma, another was bleeding oxygen...one other was afire, the flickering flame seen through her portholes:: Chang: Damage report on those ships! Tactical Officer: The closest one has heavy damage to her engine spaces, weapons offline, shields holding at sixty percent. The second one has shields at sixty two percent, heavy damage amidships and to life support... Chang: And the third? Tactical Officer: Damage to her impulse engines, aft and midship phaser arrays and torpedo launchers.. :: On the screen, they could see the three Orion starships turning away from the Ashoka:: Tactical Officer: They're running, Director.... Chang: The Ashoka? Tactical Officer: Damaged but stable. They are holding the boarding parties in check....also, I'm picking up the USS Thunder, Director... :: That was good. The Thunder could take station near the Ashoka and help them eradicate the Orion boarding team. It made her next decision easy:: Chang: Helm...lay in a pursuit course. We'll pick off the most crippled one and make them run all the way back to Orion... Helm: Gladly, Director...course laid in... Chang: Good...go get 'em..... ::As Chang watched her ship jump into warp to chase the Orions, she hoped that Zhao had been able to see the almost invisible Miranda Class on her viewscreens..she knew she would not see her on sensors, but hopefully, Zhao knew she was not alone and rescue was indeed on its way:: OOC: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=toKvyEw8-D8 :: The stars streaked by the viewscreen, Chang in hot pursuit. The three Orion ships were three bright dots in the center of her viewscreen. Inside, her rage burned as hot as the plasma which continued to leak from one of the Orion ships. She did not know how far she would chase them..perhaps, long enough for them to think they were out of danger, and Chang would be right there to put them down like the dogs they were:: Tactical Officer: Director...one of the vessels is slowing down...the one with the plasma leak. We're gaining on them.. :: Finally, some good news:: Chang: Stay on them, Mister Carroll.... :: The helmsman nodded:: Carroll: I'm on him, Director.... ::Suddenly, a flash of light dead ahead of them caught Changs' attention:: Tactical Officer: Director! They're dropped out of warp! ::Indeed they had. The stop was so quick it was all Carroll could do to keep from overrunning their target. Chang hung onto her chair as the (redacted) came to a stop directly astern of the beleagured Orion ship:: Tactical Officer: She's firing torpedoes!!! :: Before Chang could order the helmsman to evade, he was already doing so, bringing the ship hard over and escaping all but one of the torpedoes, the hit shaking the ship:: Chang: Damage report! Tactical Officer: Direct hit on port nacelle. Slight damage. ::They could see the ship firing again, blindly. One shot came close, rocking the ship:: Chang: Fire phasers! ::The pulse phasers ripped open a hole in the Orion ship amidships, obliterating the starboard weapons array, the hole erupting in a gusher of flame and armor as the Orion ship heeled to port under the hit. Chang swung her ship around, now lined up to pour another salvo into her:: Tactical Officer: She's dead in the water,Director. Engines offline. Shields down. She still has thrusters..and she is turning towards us... ::Chang knew the Orions could not see them, but they were going to try to fire one last salvo before they were done..or self destruct where they thought they were:: Chang: Mister Carroll...match her turn..Tactical..stand by with quantum torpedoes.... Carroll: Aye, Director..... Tactical Officer: Torpedoes locked on target... ::The Orion ship was burning almost bow to stern, but she was not done fighting yet. Chang knew it was a delay tactic, knowing that it allowed who ever commanded the fleet to escape. Looking into the viewscreen, Chang spoke:: Chang: Fire..... :: Twin torpedoes lanced out from the (redacted), one impacting just aft of the bridge, the other into her engine room. The ship mushroomed into a yellow white ball of flame and plasma...the Orion ship was gone, converted into superheated gases and shredded metal:: Chang: The other two ships? Tactical Officer: Still running at Warp Eight, Director..... Chang: Allright...set course back to the Ashoka,maximum warp.. Carroll: Aye, Director.... :: Chang settled back into her command chair, watching the warp distorted star field flow around her ship. She hoped she had done enough to save the Ashoka, and the Vulcan official who was on board her. Her fury still burned at the Orions, and the situation Starfleet Intelligence had put her in. There would be a reckoning one day with those who had put her in this position, and if she lived through what was coming, it would be sweet justice to deal with them in her own, personal way:: TBC Samantha Chang Director- Starfleet Intelligence USS (redacted) As simmed by: Major Hannibal Tiberious Parker Marine CO Acting Chief Of Security USS Thunder-A/ Duronis II Embassy C238703HP0
  6. ((First Officer's Quarters, USS Constitution-B)) T'Mar: Commander... ::T'Mar was alone. The bowling event had ended and she was preparing herself to meditate and get some rest. The reality of the situation had sunk in as she looked at the pip on her desk. She had made it to Commander. FULL Commander! There was a part of her that told her excitement was illogical. Earning a new rank was inevitable if she was performing at top efficiency and consistently so. But another part-- one that was much larger than T'Mar would ever admit to -- was overwhelmingly excited. And she yearned to tell someone!:: ::But who was there to tell? Liam was off who knows where. She hadn't spoken to him since they all left the Gemini. Jaxx? She had only really opened up to him once and she had never really formed a relationship with him. Besides, the life of being an Admiral was a busy one and it had taken him far away. Jalana already knew, and presumably Sun had heard as well. And then there was her former lover.. Bolani. :: ::The Vulcan/Betazoid's woman ached when she thought about Zage. The man she had chosen to love instead of the man she had been bonded to. Their relationship just couldn't withstand the distance that occurred when she transferred off the Apollo. She had heard from him every now and again, but nothing in so long that she had decided to end what was already over.:: ::She lit a candle and closed her eyes, absorbing what her emotions were telling her. Today had been a first great step for her. She was starting to open up and possibly make more friends. Something she had always struggled with, but no longer. But now, she wondered.. was it time to be open to the idea of another relationship? There was nobody in particular and she was not yet due for Pon Farr, but there was something distinct about being open to it. She had trusted Zage with so much of her. Opened up to him with her deepest feelings and connected with him like nobody else. And he so easily threw that away. Was she really ready for that?:: ::Not yet.. but maybe one day...:: END ------------------------ Commander T'Mar First Officer USS Constitution-B Community History Team Co-Facilitator/Training Officer http://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=T%27Mar A238908T10
  7. (( Jalana’s Quarters - USS Constitution )) :: The evening had been enjoyable, as Jalana spent it with her senior officers in SB 11’s own vintage Bowling Alley to celebrate promotions and the handing out of Service Ribbons. She loved that part of her job, it was one of our favourites. To see the smile and pride in people’s eyes the moment she rewarded them for their hard work. She preferred to not do it in ceremonies but in between to make it real surprises, but every now and then a party was just the right place. And seeing T’Mar handing out the Ribbons -as reward for her great work during the mission in Jalana’s absence- made her realize that T’Mar would eventually become her own Captain one day. Though she hoped that to be some time away, just as much as she was excited for her to take that step. :: :: Now that the party was over she returned to her quarters, tired but happy. But as life played its cards, the happiness did not last long. As she stepped into the darkness of her room, the memory of her Romulan visit flashed through her mind. A juicy Trill curse left her lips. She hadn’t contacted Selene yet. To be honest she had entirely forgotten about it until now, thanks to the sudden events of her father’s heart attack. :: :: Knowing herself, she was aware that if she went to sleep now she’d forget it in the morning, so after turning on the light in the living room she stepped to her desk and plopped down in the chair behind it. Rubbing her eyes she leaned back. :: Rajel: Computer. Open connection to Captain Selene Faranfey, USS Doyle. (( Captain's Ready Room, Deck 1, USS Doyle-A )):: Selene was reeling after the loss of her friend, and now she needed to put in a notification to the next of kin. Not to mention she didn't have a First Officer now, Cody had an emergency that he needed to tend to, and didn't know how long it would take. :::: When her screen lit up with an incoming message from the Constitution, specifically from the Captain and her friend, Jalana. The accept button was pressed without much thought. ::Faranfey: Good evening Jalana.Rajel: Hey Selene. Looks like you have a lot on your plate. Faranfey: Much to the dismay of Alex. I worry he'll forget my face by the time I am done the pile of work on my desk.:: For a brief second she wondered if Sun had taken Alexander with her, but then she remembered having met Alexander Bishop before. That sounded very much like there was something between Selene and that Alex. She would have to ask about that later. :: Rajel: What happened? From what I know you work off your things as they come up. :: As if that was always possible. Jalana herself had a pile to work through left, despite being back all day. That might be because she spent most of that day with Jerry on SB 11 instead of working.. :: Faranfey: It all piled up, we ended up forced into a slumber by a non-corporeal entity, and my FO had an emergency, so it's all on me. But it's late, and you called me. What's up?Rajel: Well first, I have missed that opportunity for a while but congratulations to your new rank. It's good to finally see you receive what you deserve.Faranfey: Thank you, I guess this is what happens when best friends are Captains, different parts of the galaxy earning our promotions... Congratulations on yours as well, by the way.Rajel: ::grinning:: Thank you. It's oddly comforting to share that with you. ::chuckling::Faranfey: You didn't just get notice of my promotion and need to congratulate me, did you? Of course that's not a bad reason for a call though. I know if you hadn't called, I would have contacted you, but you first.:: The Trill nodded, leaning back slightly. She wondered about where to start. That Romulan she had found in her quarters had been a quite impressionable event, not only because of the mystery how she had found a way to get in, but also because of what she had said. Jalana had even considered that hallucations played tricks on her, but the activity in the log busted that. But nobody could say where it had come from. ::Rajel: Well you are right. That's not the only reason I called. I had a visitor a few days ago and she asked me to give you a message.Faranfey: A visitor, with a message for me? That's strange. Who?Rajel: A Romulan, she didn’t give me her name, but it appears that she comes from your time. :: Selene's eyes narrowed, it couldn't be. The only Romulan that came to her mind that knew who she was and was from her time, had died trying to save them. For a moment she thought it wasn't possible, but then she thought about her situation, and that of John Nugra, and took a deep breath. ::Faranfey: I might know her then, but I'd need more information. What was her message?Rajel: ::Leaning slightly forward:: Selene, what is the Eye of the Harbinger? Faranfey: Wait, what? Repeat that?:: Selene had to make sure the woman said what she thought she said. If she did, then the message had to have come from Shiarreal, as they had discussed in great detail the Eye, and even chased leads on it for a time. Before survival was the only course of action they could take, and the Eye was moot. ::Rajel: The Eye of the Harbinger. I have never heard of it but you apparently should know about it. What is it?Faranfey: It's a way to focus energy between dimensions. Why?Rajel: The woman didn’t tell me anything, but she said to tell you that it isn’t a myth. It’s real. Faranfey: Did she give you any more information?Rajel: ::Shaking her head.:: No, nothing else. At least not about that. :: Getting the information that it was real, in the world the way it was currently, was a bit disturbing to her, but she tried not to let it rattle her. ::Faranfey: Thank you for the information.Rajel: Of course. I’m sorry it took me so long, but I had other things on my mind that suddenly came up. You look tired.:: Selene nodded, she had almost forgotten that she also had news. She felt like she was in a constant shift, losing one close friend, finding out another was alive. If she dwelled on it, it would be too much. Especially having to deal with the emotions all the time, but she couldn't dwell, and that's why the nightmares came. ::Faranfey: We lost Colonel Nugra in the line of duty, I still have to notify his next of kin, so it's not public knowledge yet.:: The words hit Jalana like a fist in the stomach and her mind went blank. She opened her mouth a few times but closed it again as words escaped her every time. :: Rajel: That… that is impossible. He was here not that long ago. Faranfey: I know, sometimes I feel that way too. I mean I was there with him before it happened, he was fine, his normal protective Gorn self. And then he was gone.:: Jalana swallowed. She knew how dangerous life in Starfleet could be. But it always hit others, not yourself. Just like illnesses and tragedies. What a silly thought. She knew more than many how untrue that was. Her friend was dead. She tried to take a deep breath, but it came out as a mere shudder. :: Rajel: How did it happen? Faranfey: That slumber we all took, it was forced upon us by a being who needed help, he was being attacked by memory parasites that were trying to wipe away his existence. In order to conserve his energy, he forced them into a dream state. :: She paused for a moment to take a breath, everything was in a report she could easily forward over to her friend, but reading it from a report was so stale. She sighed before she continued. :: Unfortunately we got too close, and he pulled us all in as well. Once we were in the dream, we were stuck. The being, we called him Lucky, couldn't release us without releasing the parasites and dying. So we need to devise some sort of distraction. There were only two of us with the memories that would be able to distract the parasites.Rajel: And he was one of the two? Faranfey: I had already lived my life, I survived the Hunger, and it was my crew we were trying to save, it seemed appropriate to me. Nugra disagreed. We debated it for as long as we could before the parasites found us in the dream and attacked Lucky again. Nugra leapt into action, and Lucky released his hold on us...Rajel: But it was a dream.. Faranfey: We woke up to find him gone. :: She was still investigating how he had been on the bridge one moment and then dead in the Marine area. :: I was as shocked as you are. :: Selene was leaving out details, like her begging for Lucky to save Nugra, and the alternative Nugra, but they weren't necessary to repeat. ::::Sighing Jalana ran a hand through her hair. She couldn’t believe that he was gone. :: Rajel: Will there be a funeral? Faranfey: I believe so, if Nugra's daughter doesn't plan one, I will.Rajel: ::nodding:: Just let me know when and I’ll see that I come. And… I’m sorry. I know he was a close friend to you. How is Sun taking it?Faranfey: Oh... I haven't told her yet... That's going to be a tough conversation.:: Her other self, more sensitive and sweet, but was also close friends with Nugra. While Selene's Nugra was long dead, she had bonded with Sun's Nugra as well, now they were both gone. And even though Selene was envious of how easy the younger self had things, she didn't like the idea of having to relay the news. Her brother would be a more suitable choice, as he catered more to the younger version of her. ::Rajel: Please tell her I’m sorry. Faranfey: :: She looked at her friend, not sure what to say. Finally settling on the easiest. :: I will. :: Selene then turned her thoughts to her curiosity on why Jalana and Sun weren't talking, wondering if something happened. :::: There was a silence, filled with thoughts, what-ifs and memories. With the whole talk about death, a fracture of the conversation with the Romulan found its fleeting way back into the Trill’s mind and she just had to ask. :: Rajel: The woman, the Romulan… she called me a legend. :: It took Selene a moment to adjust to the sudden change of subject, they were now back on the Romulan, and her message. ::Faranfey: Yes.Rajel: Do you remember when you told me that I… your Jalana is dead? ::Just talking about it sent chills down her back. She heard once that it meant someone walked over her grave. Maybe there was a bit of truth to that, she wouldn’t know. The thought that she would die somewhere remote without Rajel going to the next host just sat ill with her. :: Faranfey: I remember. :: She inhaled deeply, this was not the conversation she wanted to have, thinking about three close friends that she lost. While she still had an alternate version of one of them in front of her, it still pained her to think of Jalana's death. It was another trade for her life, so many traded for her life. ::Rajel: Well, she said I died trying to get a message out. In the Hokela System. I know you can’t tell me details and with all that has changed with your coming here it might not even happen, but… ::A thought filled pause passed with Jalana lowering her eyes to her hands..:: was that message important? Did it get where it was supposed to arrive? ::Another pause in which she looked up.:: Was it worth it?Faranfey: It got where it was supposed to go... she saved lives. :: Selene thought about her friend, the one from her future. When she last spoke to Jalana, she told the truth, she had never seen Jalana again, but that didn't mean they didn't keep tabs. Jalana lost Viktor the same way that she lost Andy. She didn't know what happened to her friend's child, it was something that didn't come up in messages between the two of them. It was the last message that her friend wanted to know about. The one that allowed Starbase 118 to try to get civilians out while pulling in reinforcement ships. The one that prevented the battle from being a massacre that only lasted hours, instead the Federation put in a gallant effort that lasted days. The ship Selene was on, USS Victory carried a number of civilians away to safety. It was likely that message that kept Selene alive, instead of fighting on the front line against the monsters, but she didn't have it any easier, having to euthanize several of her crew after finding out they were infected. :: :: The knot in her throat did not dissolve, but knowing that she had died saving lives added relief. If Rajel couldn’t be saved, it was a little comfort to know that it had not been in vain. It was strange. Logically she knew that it was a different universe and that things did not necessarily come this way in this one, but it was still her. Jalana sunk back into her chair with a long exhale. :: Rajel: That is good. :: She did not expect Selene to tell her anything more, just in case it could happen again, so she was surprised when her friend continued. :: Faranfey: Remember what I said about the battle of Starbase 118? Remember when you found out about me... I wasn't at the battle, I had to battle hunger infected people on the USS Victory. :: She stopped, her brother's ship was pulled in as reinforcements to the station, something she didn't want to mention to her friend, it wouldn't be fair to lay that burden on her. It was the right decision, no matter how much Selene had hurt because of the loss. ::Rajel: Yes, I remember. That must have been difficult. Faranfey: The Jalana of my future, was important to so many people. Even when things were bleak, she still saved lives. But, even if she hadn't, Jal, she was important to me. :: Her eyes started tearing up, she swallowed and shook her head before continuing. :: You are important to Sundassa and I. Don't doubt yourself.:: Seeing that look in Selene’s eyes made Jalana’s throat close up. She wanted to be right there in person and hug her, hold her friend and tell her that everything would be alright. But she was many light years away, so that wasn’t possible. She still couldn’t stop her hand from reaching out and touching the screen as she felt the familiar tingle in her nose. :: Rajel: You and Sun are very important to me too. WIthout you I wouldn’t be here any more. :: There was a moment of silence as Selene tried to think about what that meant. There were a few times that Selene remembered pulling her friend back from the brink before they got separated. ::Faranfey: Do you mean that time we went through the gate and you were inadvertently poisoned?Rajel: Sun can tell you the whole story. Things with Viktor went a whole lot different in this universe. Faranfey: I remember you told me that much, but it seems like a sore spot.:: Jalana raised her hand and rubbed over the bridge of her nose, yawning slightly, before blushing. :: Rajel: Sorry, it was a long but good day. I should get some sleep. :: Selene nodded, she was right, it seemed like the topic touched a nerve. She'd have to look up what happened with Viktor, last time she was too preoccupied with getting back to Alex before he forgot he asked her out. ::Faranfey: I understand, you get some rest, I still have a lot of work to do. Good thing I am used to long periods of wakefulness. :: She laughed. Long periods of being awake was alright, but avoiding sleep would do her no good. :: After that slumber, I am not exactly anxious to get back to it. Goodnight Jalana.:: Jalana was about to cut the connection, when something else popped into her mind and she leaned forward. :: Rajel: Sun… ::She prefered to call her friend by her real name, even though Selene might be just as real to her as her birth name by now. :: … please be careful. She said that Sentinels have their eye on you. I don’t know who they are but it doesn’t sound safe. Faranfey: Sentinels? I'll keep my eyes and ears open. Thank you for the warning.:: Jalana nodded and placed a hand on the screen. :: Rajel: Talk to you soon. Faranfey: Of course. Get some sleep, I'll talk to you soon.(( Jalana’s Quarters - USS Constitution )) :: After that the connection ended and the screen changed back to the rotating Starfleet emblem. This conversation had been a rollercoaster, full of ups and downs. The loss of Nugra stung in her chest, but knowing that her friend knew what to look out for and hopefully stay safe was a relief. She also had learned more about her future self, that might never happen. What was meant to be a message for her friend, a quick and simple call had turned out to be more complex.:: :: After the long day with her date with Jerry and the bowling evening with her crew, not to forget this call now, she felt tired and pushed herself from the big desk chair. As she passed the living room table on the way to the bedroom, she spotted a few PADDs lying on the ground. Furrowing her brows she bent and picked them up. She could have sworn she’d kept them on her desk before leaving. Well, maybe seeing Jerry at the time had made her careless and she didn’t notice them fall… all the way to the table. :: Rajel: Computer, was anyone in my rooms while I was gone?Computer: Negative.:: Jalana shrugged slightly and placed the PADDs on the table and headed to the bedroom. She’d better get some sleep. Her mind was clearly playing tricks on her. :: ------Captain Selene FaranfeyCommanding OfficerUSS Athena, NCC-97780Academy Commandant - Starbase 118 AcademyExecutive Council - Captain At LargeWriter ID: A239001SF0& Captain Jalana RajelCommanding OfficerUSS Constitution BImage Team FacilitatorA238906JL0
  8. ((Parker Residence, Duronis II Embassy)) ::Tyr's battle cry could be heard all over the grounds as he rushed full speed at the Zalkonians and Orions, who were rushing full speed at him. When they were nearly in melee range he skidded to a halt, leveling his phaser rifle and shooting one soldier dead on the spot. As the lines closed there was no more room for rifles, so he swung it with blunt force trauma in mind, catching a soldier in the side of the head and breaking the rifle along with the man's jaw. The rifle went to the ground and he simultaneously drew his hand phaser with his left hand and katana with his right. Rushing headlong into the ground he became a whirling dance of death, phaser blasts searing off the arm of one of the Zalkonians while the katana slashed open the neck of another. Realizing the threat the long-haired Ba'ku represented, the soldiers chose to attack his Marine cohorts, leaving the Captain to deal with Terek.:: ::The two eyed each other as the battle raged around them and closed on each other. Sheathing his phaser he saw the broadsword Terek wielded. His experienced eyes surveyed the weapon, modeled after the English broadsword from Earth.:: o O Means it's weak at the hilt near the quillions. O o ::Sweeping his katana over his head, Tyr circled Terek, his eyes never leaving Terek. The man was a monster, presiding over a death camp that would make the Nazis of earth ill if they could have seen it. He had to die, here and now. Watching closely, he noticed Terek was watching Tyr's deadly blade, instead of looking at him directly. Smiling slightly, he had his plan. Stepping forward, he raised the sword menacingly and rushed forward. As expected, Terek moved to block the blade, and Tyr swept it out of range and kicked out hard at Terek's knee. A satisfying crunch signaled his boot had found its target, and Terek cried out in rage and pain. Looking to end the fight quickly, he brought the blade up for a decapitating blow, only to be tackled from behind by a Zalkonian who saw his leader fall. Quickly rolling with the momentum he grabbed the Zalkonian by the neck and somersaulted, ending up with the Zalkonian hanging precariously by his chin on Tyr's back. Tyr twisted hard and snapped the man's neck, then dropped the body to the ground. Returning to his feet, he spun just in time to find Terek charging him, sword held high.:: :: Terek was happy to turn the battle into a melee...he had more men to thrust into the battle, and the Orions who were joining in were stronger than the Ba’ku’s overall who they were fighting. As the battle moved towards the Marines and his people, a vertiable scrum slashing weapons and firing guns moved aside, leaving a few stragglers...then it was Terek and Long Hair, both a part of and separate from the battle taking place mere footsteps away:: ::Terek watched as the man called Waltas swung his katana over his head, the man circling him. Watching the Starfleet officers' blade, Terek held his quiet and steady, daring not to betray his move when he made it. Too late,he realized his mistake as the man moved forward , Terek tried to block the blade, but the cursed Ba’ku was quicker, and to make things worse, the Ba’ku caught his knee..the crunch and instant pain told him not only was his kneecap dislocated, but the ligaments holding it in place were badly damaged. Ignoring the pain, Terek stood up to face his attacker:: :: Fortunately, one of his men had seen him fall, and had now engaged the Starfleet officer, saving him from a fatal strike, the closeness of which gave him the boost of adrenaline he needed to stand up and charge the Ba’ku just as he had killed the Zalkonian soldier who had given him precious seconds to reorganize and engage Long Hair:: ::Tyr eyed his opponent as the burning from the wound in his chest subsided. Terek’s men and the Orions were merciless killers, and the unlucky few that were wounded were killed in the most gory and horrid method possible. His men were falling. So were the Orions and the Zalkonians, but they had more to spare then he did. And, little by little, they were drawing close to the underground structure. Tye and Daisha were down there. Garth was down there. The Doctor and the wounded were down there.:: ::The hopelessness of the situation along with the pain of the wound ignited a fury within the Ba’ku. With a feral snarl, Tyr charged, aiming to cut Terek in half at the waist. He brought his broadsword down to block the stroke and did so, but as his katana slid along the broadsword’s blade, he decked Terek with his free hand, sending him stumbling backward. He brought his boot down on the tip of the broadsword and stepped forward, slamming his other foot down on the blade just above the hilt. This dug the blade deeply into the ground. Tyr brought his back foot forward, using the blade as a launching point and unleashed a vicious kick to the recovering Terek, sending him sprawling to the ground. Tyr picked up the broadsword with his left hand, wielding the katana in his right.:: WALTAS: You won’t reach them. :: Terek laughed at the long haired man:: TEREK: You are a fool! I have more ships, more men! WALTAS: If I have to go through you and every one of your lackeys, you still won’t reach them. TEREK: I will kill you with your own sword, Starfleet...before I take your head.... WALTAS::Looking at the broadsword, he smiled wickedly:: Then come and take it. ::Terek unexpectedly drew a hidden weapon and Tyr rolled to avoid the blast, bringing him in range, and with a sharp upward stroke from the katana he sliced off Terek’s artificial hand, sending it still clutching the phaser dropping to the ground with a thud.:: :: Terek felt no pain as Long Hair cleanly took off his metal appendange,...a terrible rage boiled within him...he had once again fallen victim to this Starfleet "hun' doc' fir":...Zalkonian for animal excrement:: TEREK: I have played with you long enough! I... :: Before Terek could finish his tirade, he caught the sight of a shock of yellow, then a collision as a female Marine slammed him to the ground. Rolling over, he caught the young woman under the chin, driving her head back. Using his good hand, he slammed her to the ground, even after she had kneed him in the crotch, the pain making him see spots before his eyes. Pinning her with his arm, he took his good hand and ripped out her trachea, then as she lay gurgling on the ground, Terek snapped her neck. The young Marine was dead, the joy of the brutality clearly written on Terek's face:: ::Before either could attack again, a Marine assailed Terek, and Tyr watched in horror as an enraged Terek butchered the young woman with his bare hands:: WALTAS::Roaring in anger:: YOU WILL DIE TONIGHT, TEREK! TEREK:: Equaling his opponents' roar:: NOT BY YOUR HAND, STARFLEET!!!!! ::The two approached each other slowly, menacingly. The dual-wielding Ba’ku was seething, murder on his mind. Terek's knee was screaming in protest as the two men waited for an opening. Terek spoke:: Terek: You are going to die, Long Hair. The augment will die. Your woman...his woman...will be given to my men. Your childrens' blood will be dripping from the blades of my men. Too bad you will not be here to see what fun we are going to have... ::No, it was not Terek's mission. Soon, his men would be breaching the doors and infiltrate the underground shelters, take the women, then slaughter everyone at the Embassy, save for a precious few. His open comms were telling him that although his losses were great, they were beating back the Starfleet forces. Victory would be his. But first, we pulled a daggar from his boot, and before the Starfleet officer could react, he threw it, catching Long Hair in the thigh:: WALTAS::The pain feeding his anger:: You’re just full of surprises. :: With a menacing smile, Terek spoke:: TEREK: And more to come...... WALTAS::Ripping the dagger from his thigh and throwing it aside:: You’ll have to drain every last drop from me before you get past me. :: Terek knew the daggar had gone bone deep into his adversary, and by removing it would only make it bleed worse...fool:: TEREK::seething:: To be it, Long Hair........ ::Done talking, Tyr charged, spinning in a whirling dance of both blades that sent everyone stepping backward. He knew that Terek was looking for an opening, and he purposefully gave him one. Grimacing in pain, he stumbled, deliberately, and drove the broadsword into the ground and knelt with his back to the Zalkonian. Terek took the bait, drawing closer, and when Tyr could feel the heat of the man’s body from the proximity, he struck. Striking backward with his elbow he caught Terek in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. Standing and ignoring the screaming pain in his thigh, he grabbed Terek’s broadsword and ripped it from the ground, driving it under his arm and backward, and felt the sword slide into Terek’s chest. He stood and turned, driving it deep, up to the hilt, so the blade was protruding from his back. Rising with the katana still in his right, he leaned close.:: ::Terek, in his quest for revenge, saw the opening and took it, but a nanosecond later he recognized his mistake as he felt the crunch of cartilage and bone as his own sword slipped into him. The blade was sharp, and Terek gasped, and blood formed on his lips. He was impaled on his own blade, looking into the eyes of his enemy, still defiant although he knew the end was coming..yet he chose to embrace his death, and not give Starfleet the satisfaction of of seeing the fear now wracking his body:: WALTAS: You’d better hope they can replace this like they did your hand, you son of a ----. ::With all of his strength he swung, the katana arcing toward Terek’s neck. He decapitated the Zalkonian, sending the body sprawling to the ground and the head rolling off to the side, his own sword still embedded in his chest. Dropping to his knees in pain, Tyr turned to survey the battle. Most of the Marines with himself and Martinez had fallen, and Martinez didn’t look so good herself. And there were at least 6 Zalkonians left, with more on the way in the distance. Tyr’s breaths came in ragged gasps as he forced himself to his feet and turned wearily to face the onslaught. He prepared for death. WALTAS::Touching his communicator:: =/\= Waltas to…to…anyone..need help..now..being overrun. =/\= ::He could spare no more breath. Martinez leveled her rifle and he did too. They were coming.:: Captain Tyr Waltas Acting CO Duronis II Embassy And: MSPNPC Captain Toral Terek (deceased) ZSC Supreme Vigilance II As simmed by: Major Hannibal Tiberious Parker Marine CO Acting Chief Of Security USS Thunder-A/ Duronis II Embassy C238703HP0
  9. (( Theo Whittaker's Apartment - New York District, Starbase 118 Commercial Sector )) (( Time Index: 'The Event' +5 Hours )) ::Having hobbled her way from the hallway to the little island in the kitchen, Mirra had laid her head against to cool marble in a failed attempt to quite the pounding. oO So cold...cold is good...Oo bits and pieces of the night prior tried to float to the surface of her memory, only to be banished back again by the pounding.:: Whittaker: What on earth happened last night? Tatash: I.. I don't know. ::he paused, letting out a belch followed by a broad wince on his snout. That was dangerously close to the mark:: Ezo: ::glancing up, her head still firmly against the cool marble:: I have no idea...anyone know why I'm dressed like this...? Whittaker: The last thing I remember was.... :: he looked at Tatash :: the blue stuff. What in the name of all that is holy was that? Tatash: Romulan Ale, the very, very illegal kind. I think I'd take a court martial over this hangover. ::She was never drinking again. Blue stuff, green stuff, any stuff. This was horrific.:: Ezo: ::groaning loudly:: It should be illegal to be in this much pain.... Whittaker: :: giving a voice to the other thought, as he pointed towards the ceiling :: And what is Lady Shadonna doing in my bed? ::Still slightly inebriated it seemed, Mirra couldn't help the bemused snicker that escaped her:: Ezo: I don't know Theo...shouldn't you be telling US why a diva is in your bed...? Whittaker: Oh don't be so ridiculous. :: beat :: We were sleeping fully clothed. :: And it then it hit him, the reason why he was drinking. Baylen was gone. :: Besides... Baylen... ::Mirra let out a pained moan, that's right. Baylen. This was entirely his fault. If she ever laid eyes on him again she was going to flick him seriously hard in the nose.:: Whittaker: So... what did happen last night? Tatash: I remember... something about needing a new outfit, so.... ::he paused, eyes widening, looking at the assorted carrier bags dotted around the floor mingling with the discarded takeaway cartons as they moved into the other room. All of them bore the names of the designers shops near his apartment. There was a good chance all of them were a lot poorer this morning:: We got changed at.. my place? I think? Then went out... You might want to check your bank accounts. ::Sitting up gingerly, she clutched the bar as the room spun momentarily. Once the extra rotations stopped, she glanced over at Tatash, who appeared to be wearing the remains of a new outfit oO Wait...did he always only have one shoe..? Oo Ezo: ::grumbles:: Explains why I'm dressed like a Dabo showgirl...I guess... ::Watching Theo hobble with his cane, she got a flash of memory of her having it at some point in the night. oO Oh no...did I steal his cane?? Oo She managed to slip off the bar-stool and not fall to the floor as she slunk after Theo, who carried the precious coffee.:: Whittaker: Somebody was dancing to Klingon Electro Music..... Tatash: Mirra... oh no, sweetheart it was us...::He paused, cringing so hard internally he could have exploded into a mess of embarrassment and self loathing:: Wait, I think we -met- Shadonna at the club. ::She was mid-pouring cream into her coffee when she froze. The memory came slamming back with near enough force to knock her back into the cushions of the couch. She, atop Tatash's shoulders, having somehow procured Theo's cane and thrusting it out wildly while shouting "Onward!! Into battle noble steed!!!":: Ezo: ::squeaking:: Oh...dear Gods...what have we done...? H-how did we get home...? Tatash: I have no idea, I think that was the last part of our collective sanity. Everything after that is just a blur, a noisy blur. Evidently we really, really wanted a Klingon kebab. ::So mortified by the recollection, she hadn't noticed the cream having overflowed from her cup and into her lap. Glancing down she quickly set down the creamer and her now sloshing coffee cup, standing in a flash. The wave of nausea nearly bringing her down to her knees.:: Whittaker: Response? Ezo: ::covering her face with her hands:: Did...I try and knight you both...? ::peaking between her fingers, she tried to inspect both of them for busing around their neck or shoulders as she was certain her aim with the "walking saber" would be less than ideal. Thankfully, she found none.:: Tatash: No one has a meeting with Sal today I hope? Whittaker: Response? ::If she did, it was a meeting to resign her commission, change her name, move back to Betazed and become and Uttaberry farmer. She could never show her face on this station ever again, as memories of last night's encounter began to slowly trickle in.:: Tatash: Can't you just magic this away Mirra? Ezo: ::glaring, and snapping in irritation:: I'm a doctor, not a magician! Whittaker/Tatash: Response? ::While Mirra curled up on the mammoth couch, clutching her head in an attempt to banishing the angry buzzing of the seriously [...]ed off space bees trapped in her skull, she became aware of the lyrical humming coming from the direction of Theo's bedroom. It appeared, the 4th member of their little pity-party turned chaos-crew was about to join them. Peeking through her fingers, she grimaced in unabashed jealously as Lady Shadonna came flouncing down the hall, humming cheerily. She looked perfectly polished and well rested, even if wearing a pair of men's pajamas. Stepping into the room with a wide grin, she clapped her multi-digited hands merrily.:: Shadonna: Good Morning Sunshines!! ::pausing, she got a playful smirk on her face while making a deep bow:: My sincerest apologies to you, your royal highness's, How dare I address the royal family of Sass-katchewan in such an informal manner... Whittaker/Tatash: Response? ::Staring in blank confusion, Mirra had sat up, leaning back heavily on the couch for support and stared.:: Ezo: The...uh...what now? Shadonna: ::batting her lashes innocently:: Oh? Don't you recall? You informed myself, and everyone else that you, my dear were the ruling queen of Sass-Katchewan, Capital city of planet Sass in Quadrant of Shade and dear Theo was your crowned King...::bowing deeply towards Tatash:: And we cannot forget, your noble brother in arms, King of the warriors, Tatash the mighty. ::giggles softly:: Ezo: ::blinking slowly:: We...did...that? Whittaker/Tatash: Response? Shadonna: ::nodding emphatically:: Oh yes my loves, Mirra dear, you attempted to "knight" half the patrons of the club before King Theo managed to regain control of his "Walking Scepter" Whittaker/Tatash: Response? ::Shadonna laughed merrily. Having found herself a security detail, she had made her way towards the hopping nightclubs that the base had to offer, only to run into none other than the debonair Theo, being escorted by the flame haired doctor and her rather dashing Gorn soldier. They had all been several sheets to every proverbial wind imaginable, and having rediscovered her newfound sense of empathy towards others, decided keeping the trio out of harms way was far more important, (and entertaining), than any club scene. Thankfully, she had managed to talk both Mirra and Tatash OUT of heading to the Qo'noS district to sign up for tag-team cage fighting at the bar called "The Bat'leth". It had been a most diverting evening. Realizing the time, she had another engagement she was about to be late for. With a heavy sigh, she began to make her farewells, Stepping over to Tatash, holding on the his reclining chair as if his life depended upon it, ran a finger down the side of his face with a sassy wink:: Shadonna: My wild man...if you should ever find yourself...bored with this whole...Starfleet life, do give me a call. I would absolutely love to have you as an addition to my security team. Tatash: Response? ::Making her way towards the crumpled form of the flame haired doctor, she bent and spoke low:: Shadonna: Mirra my love, your dancing, while not atop my dear wild man, was certainly divine. I'll be keeping you in mind for my holo-video for the next single. ::Looking up with horrified wonder, what the Diva said barely registered as Mirra was already planning her resignation and what new name she'd pick when she fled the station for home oO Sally. Sally is a good name, doesn't sound a thing like Mirra...Oo Shadonna: ::picking up Duchess and turning towards Theo:: Theo, my dearest love, escort me to the door, won't you? Whittaker: Response? ::Sashaying her way out of the spacious living room towards the door, she turned and faced the disheveled looking officer. She fixed him with a kind smile and began adjusting the collar of his rumpled shirt.:: Shadonna: ::whispering conspiratorially:: Don't worry, not a thing happened last night other than sleep, ::giving a saucy smirk:: not that I would have complained if it had... Whittaker: Response? Shadonna: ::laughing, she placed a hand on his cheek tenderly:: Thank you, Commander Theo Whittaker. For saving my life...and in doing so...helping me find myself again...who I was...before the diva. I missed her. And I look forward to reacquainting myself. ::she leaned forward and gave him a sweet kiss on the forehead.:: You are a great man, and a fine officer. I expect to hear great things from you. ::sighing reluctantly:: Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment at an exclusive spa I simply cannot miss. Whittaker: Response? ::Catching his somewhat dubious look at her remark, she laughed merrily and slapped him playfully on the shoulder:: Shadonna: Oh no my darling, it's not for me, ::holding up Duchess:: It's for her! Turns out she's the real diva... ::With a wink and a blown kiss, she flounces gracefully out of the Sky Palace. Having missed their little exchange at the door, it appeared Mirra had lost interest in waiting, and had somehow crawled over the couch and into Tatash's lap, curling up like a small child, and promptly passed out.:: ------------------------------------- Lady Shadonna Diva & Lieutenant Mirra Ezo, MDChief Medical Officer Starbase 118 OpsC239205ME0
  10. Polling closes at 11:59pm Eastern on Saturday, July 30. This is a run-off poll, where our general membership (that's you!) chooses which sim, from Set 2 of 2016 (Rounds 7-13), should proceed to the final round of the contest for a chance to be selected as the Top Sim of 2016! These sims below were chosen by a panel of judges (one from each ship) from the sims submitted in Rounds 7-13 of the contest. TO START, please read these sims: Round 7: Captain Shelther Faranster, "Lost Context" Round 8: Cpt Jalana Rajel, "Fear the Reaper" Round 9: Dr Tarna & Iria, "The pain of rejection" Round 10: Lt Commander Falcon/Rhino the hamster, "The New Smell" Round 11: Doctor Saveron, "There, but for the vagaries of chance, go I" Round 12: 302nd Tactical Fighter Wing, "New Assignment" Round 13: LtCdr Sinda Essen & LtJG Solaris McLaren, "New Experiences" NEXT, using the poll above, vote for the sim you like the most. It should be the sim that's the best written, with strong characterization, and evocative or descriptive scene-setting. DON'T vote for a sim just because you serve on the same crew as the person who wrote it. Any crew that "stuffs the ballot" (by having everyone on the crew vote for the same sim to ensure that it wins this poll) will be eliminated from the contest and shamed by the rest of the community as terrible, terrible cheaters. That would be awful. Good luck to the nominees!
  11. (( Shuttle Tyderion, Perimeter of Starbase 11)) :: Na'Lae folded her arms across her chest and sat back in her seat. The journey from Earth seemed to take forever. She was anxious... excited... and slightly scared. This was no freighter she'd been assigned to. A Galaxy class starship was for her a huge undertaking. It wasn't so much the technical aspects of flying such a large vessel. It was the responsibility that came with it. Once the flagship of the federation, the galaxy class's crew compliment was enormous. She wasn't used to carting that much luggage around at a time. And coupled with the fact that she would need to learn the faces, the procedures, and the customs of her new crew, she was a tiny bit out of her league thus far. :: :: She pulled out her PADD from her sea bag, and pulled up a few pictures of Johan. Mostly of him commanding his freighter; they always seemed to bring confidence to her mind, watching her father do what he was born for. It made her spirit lift back to it's usual position. She smiled, putting the PADD back into the bag. She pulled her hair back into a messy tail, and stood up. :: Pilot: We'll be arriving shortly ma'am. Mandak: Perfect... It's been a while since we left... Is that... :: She smiled as she leaned forward through the [...]pit area. She found herself instinctively sitting down in the second seat next to the pilot, watching in awe as the Starbase came into view. It wasn't the base that caught her attention though... It was the Constitution, and her massive glory. All 42 decks were calling her name. She felt a rush of energy all at once, knowing that she needed to be on that ship; that her life was about to begin. :: Mandak: We going to the Constitution I hope? Pilot: Well I'd orders to set down on the Starbase ma'am... :: She pulled up the comm stack before letting him talk further. :: Mandak: USS Constitution, this is Shuttle Tyderion, requesting to land... :: she mouthed the words sorry to the shuttle pilot...:: Conny: Tyderion, cleared to bay Two High. Slow approach pattern advised. Mandak: May I? :: looking to the pilot, who was still figuring what to do...:: Pilot: I mean, you basically already are so... :: He sort of put his hands up in desperation, signaling his transfer of control to her. :: :: She Rubbed her hands together, and got her bearings about the control panel. oO You could just be appropriate, just this once... NAH...Oo. Lae wasn't a hotshot by any means, but there was the random occasion where she'd run outside the lines a bit. This was one of those occasions. She took control, and moved the speed indicator up a bit. :: Pilot: I'm pretty sure they advised low speed approach ma'am... Mandak: They did? Hmm... :: They were making their way pretty quickly to the suggested bay, and noted that the door was opening. She moved the speed up even higher, moving quicker and quicker towards the bay. her eyes widened a bit as she waited for the right moment. The proximity alarm began to go off, sending the pilot into a panic. :: Pilot: Ma'am, give ME CONTROL! NOW! Mandak: Live a little will you? :: She punched in a 180 maneuver, turning the shuttle about face as they continued to move backwards at a ridiculous speed for landing. The rear of the shuttle breached the force field, and she threw on the rear maneuvering thrusters, just long enough to stop the shuttle, having her land ever so gingerly on the deck. She looked at the console with a satisfied look, then having forgot about him for a second, over to the pilot... :: Pilot: Get out... Mandak: Alright, alright... Sorry... :: The rear hatch opened, and she began to step out. :: Pilot: You forgot something... :: he launched her bag out the rear door onto the floor at her feet. :: Mandak: I said Sorry! :: The door closed as the words came out. This was why she typically chose the more reserved moments in life. :: :: for now though, she would need to find her quarters and get settled. Word around the ship was that the senior crew was enjoying some much needed time off from their most recent adventure, at something called a "bowling alley". She wasn't entirely sure what that all meant, but she was eager to find out. More so eager to meet her fellow shipmates, and see what new horizons awaited her. She dressed down in her quarters, wearing a simply skirt and top. She let her hair out for the evening, being that the occasion wasn't to be neat and tidy as typical duty might call for. She breathed deep, took one last look at the PADD with her father on it sitting on the table, and walked through the doors into the corridor. ((Short while Later, Starbase 11 Bowling Alley)) :: Lae made her way to where she'd asked about the Conny Crew. The folks at the Starbase were quite accommodating to her questions, and seemed to know all about this famed crew. Just from that alone, she felt like she was walking into an adventure already. She breached the doors to the Alley, and could see that the place was packed, with people eating and drinking, and throwing things. She found it quite peculiar, but at the same time fun. throwing large balls at objects down range. Seemed similar to a game they would play back home, but the lights, music and everything else about the place seemed to have any down home experiment beat. She asked around, and was soon pointed over to where the Conny crew was playing. :: :: She spied about for a moment, picking out the first officer from the manifest she'd reviewed. She was intertwined with other members of the crew, but now was as good a time as any to get involved. She made her way over. Giving a light tap on the arm, she introduced herself.:: Mandak: Ma'am, Ensign Na'Lae Mandak, reporting. T'Mar/Anyone Else nearby?: [Tag] TAG/TBC Ensign Na'Lae Mandak HCO Officer USS Constitution-B O238901VL0
  12. (( Computer Core; F.M.S. Krayvet )) ::Kaitlyn refocused her thoughts, plastered an image into her mind; the Orion woman who Kaitlyn now desperately wanted to kill.:: ::The fires relit, Kaitlyn’s energy coming back as well as it could. She shouldered her rifle, pulled herself up enough to get aimed downrange, and pulled the trigger.:: ::The woman was advancing, deftly dodging Kaitlyn’s disruptor fire as she threw her own rifle aside and drew a dagger. Kaitlyn reached back, yanking the shard from her leg with a hiss and tossing it aside. She could not move at max speed, but she needed to be able to move at all.:: ::Khante approached with a feral grin, dagger clutched tightly in her hand. Kaitlyn pushed away from her cover, away from the continued weapons fire from Khante’s guards, to where she could regain her footing. She grabbed a chunk of debris; essentially a broken piece of bulkhead about two-thirds of a meter long.:: ::She really wished she had kept that pipe…:: ::The guards continued their fight with the rest of the team, though the rest of the room faded out of Kaitlyn’s perception. Her eyes locked on Khante, and the two horrific days she had spent while Khante had her fun came back in a flood.:: ::James talked about the times he had seen RED, when a situation had driven him so far into anger that all he could see was his target and all he could feel was the intense desire to beat them to a pulp.:: ::Kaitlyn had been plenty angry before, but this time… she saw RED.:: ::Khante advanced on Kaitlyn.:: Khante: Time for you to die, pretty face... ::The Orion woman reached out, faster than Kaitlyn was able to dodge, grabbing hold and pulling Kaitlyn closer. Her knife flashed in the dim light, Kaitlyn able to get her scrap metal in the way just in time to deflect it.:: ::Kaitlyn finally got a closer look at Khante, seeing signs that the Orion woman had already been in a fight that day. She had taken a hit to her face, too; Kaitlyn could use that.:: Falcon: Not before I add to that new bruise of yours. ::Kaitlyn grabbed the scrap in a two-handed grip, advancing to swing at Khante. Khante was ready for it, knocking Kaitlyn’s weapon upward and slamming her elbow into Kaitlyn’s jaw. Before Kaitlyn could recover, she drove that same elbow into the crook of her neck, which exploded in pain. Thankfully, she managed to keep hold of her scrap.:: ::Khante spun Kaitlyn around, keeping her on the side closest to the rest of the team.:: Khante: I thought I said STAY DOWN, little flea! ::With one hand, Kaitlyn held the dagger at bay as best as she could. She managed to fight her other hand free, swinging it around to punch over her shoulder, into Khante’s face. Kaitlyn immediately reversed, bringing her elbow back under to strike into Khante’s midsection. The grip on her shoulders loosened, and Kaitlyn was able to slip free.:: ::Now, Kaitlyn’s smile was the one to turn predatory.:: Falcon: What’s the matter, little greenskin? Too quick for you? ::Khante bared her teeth, hissing as she stabbed her dagger toward Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn managed to dodge back, ignoring the burning pain from her thigh and reveling in Khante’s frustrated scream. Khante shoved Kaitlyn toward the bulkhead, Kaitlyn allowing the move to succeed.:: ::Kaitlyn’s injured leg was having a tough time keeping up. She needed support to be able to move quickly, to strike at her hardest. The bulkhead would do.:: ::She hit the bulkhead with a thud, turning around in time to see Khante charging with her dagger. Kaitlyn spun aside, remaining along the bulkhead, as the ship shook violently beneath them. It knocked Khante off balance, forcing her to run into the bulkhead. Bracing with one arm, Kaitlyn brought her other elbow around to strike Khante in the back of her head, slamming her face into the wall.:: ::Second confirmed nose kill. Three more and she would be a nose breaking ace.:: ::The air was definitely getting a little thin. Kaitlyn could notice it, but it seemed to be affecting Khante a bit worse. Kaitlyn had to strike now and strike hard, before she, too, started succumbing to the effects.:: ::Khante lashed out with her dagger once more, her swing clumsy. Kaitlyn dodged back, swinging her on scrap upward with all the strength she could muster, making a lucky connection with Khante’s arm.:: ::Her hand went limp, dropping the dagger.:: ::What happened next felt like slow motion. Kaitlyn dropped the scrap, reaching out to grab the dagger before Khante could recover it. The deck shook again, though Kaitlyn’s lean against the bulkhead kept her from staggering. Kaitlyn pressed in, using her elbow to hammer Khante’s skull into the bulkhead once again.:: ::Khante was disarmed. Disoriented. A good Starfleet officer would have incapacitated Khante, taken her in to answer for her crimes.:: ::In that moment, that was NOT Kaitlyn.:: ::Kaitlyn swung the dagger around, hard, slamming past Khante’s defenses and driving it straight into the side of the Orion woman’s green neck. Kaitlyn pulled it out roughly, driving it in again as she yelled.:: ::Khante collapsed, but Kaitlyn did not stop. Kaitlyn fell with her, landing beside Khante’s face-down prone form, and continued to drive the dagger into the woman’s back.:: ::All the while, Kaitlyn yelled. All the anger, all the pain, all the frustration caused by being on that ship mixed with whatever remained from seven years before came out in a flood of rage.:: ::Finally, with one final resounding shout, Kaitlyn plunged the dagger as deeply into Khante’s back as she could… and then fell back into a kneeling position beside her, staring.:: ::The battle behind her finally ended, doors reopening on oxygen flooding back into the room. Sounds, voices, came from behind her, but Kaitlyn paid them no heed.:: ::Eventually, someone approached to tap gently on Kaitlyn’s shoulder. The woman turned to look, her face neutral. The usual smirk, the standard levity and snark… None of it was there. There were no tears, but her eyes were moist.:: Any: ? ::Kaitlyn gave a slow nod.:: Falcon: ::Neutral tone.:: Let’s get out of here. Any: ? (( Flashback – Seven Years Ago; Abandoned Factory; Oliph VII )) ::Kaitlyn opened fire with both weapons, lighting up her attackers in a hail of phase pistol blasts. What the pistols lacked in raw power they made up for with a blistering fast fire rate. As the last of the group was impacted and started to be pushed backward, Kaitlyn sprung to her feet and started to charge ahead. The Orion fell in front of the door, holding it open.:: ::The area beyond was more heavy industry. Piles of debris, stacks of piping and materials, and pieces of defunct equipment littered the grounds. Kaitlyn dove out of the doorway, rolling into cover behind some of the equipment. The klaxon was much louder now, and weapons fire started to strike the edges of her cover. She set down one pistol long enough to grab her emergency signaler, switching it on. If Nova was anywhere in earshot, she would come running. Taking up her pistol again, she popped out long enough to see her next destination.:: ::She had no real idea of the layout of this building/complex/thing. Light streamed in through a gap in the ceiling, and the far side of the large room had a doorway leading to what she believed to be outside.:: ::The best cover took her past each one.:: ::Waiting for a break in the first, Kaitlyn launched herself out from the piece of equipment. She unleashed a flurry of shots from her twin pistols, trying to suppress any return fire until she could roll behind the next pile of debris. Shots passed her on all sides, or struck the ground nearby, but somehow she managed to avoid getting hit. A risky second attempt got her even closer to her objective.:: ::That was when her signaler started pinging. Nova was close! Her ‘youngest kid’ good luck seemed to be with her that day. Looking up, she saw she was close enough to the opening for the next part of her cunning strategy.:: ::She reached to her belt, pulling out a primitive flare gun. She pulled back its hammer, aiming for the gap and firing. The bright white flare flashed upward, giving the dual benefits of signaling Nova her exact location and temporarily blinding anyone who had been looking too closely at her. In the confusion, Kaitlyn managed to sprint to the doorway.:: ::Overheard, Kaitlyn could hear the scream of Nova’s impulse drive as the Raven-class turned tramp freighter swooped in between the buildings. She saw her phase cannons swing out and snap into position, all glowing a bright red. Kaitlyn ducked behind cover, smiling at Nova’s dramatic entrance.:: Falcon: Light ‘em up, guys. ::As if in response, Nova began to fire with all her cannons; or at least any which could be brought to bear. They blasted through gun emplacements, punched through forcefields and bulkheads, and evaporated anyone foolish enough to stand still. The paltry return fire bounced harmlessly off Nova’s shields.:: ::For a moment, no eyes were on Kaitlyn.:: ::Nova seemed particularly fixated on one building, a signal to Kaitlyn that they wanted her to go that way. Best guess; unable to beam her out. Get to a roof. Ducking into the rough corridor made by Nova’s cannon fire, Kaitlyn sprinted across the dirt ground separating the buildings and kicked her way inside.:: ::It was a mad dash to get to the roof. She blasted holes in any remaining defenders, shot the chains off locked doors, and paused as Nova raked a floor with cannon fire to clear her path. There was no time for analysis, for consideration, barely even for thought. Kaitlyn was on pure automatic, with survival as her only goal.:: ::One final door finally admitted her onto the roof. It was still strongly defended, forcing Kaitlyn to remain ducked behind the stairs. She attempted to return fire, but the defenders were too well entrenched. She could not make any more headway.:: ::Nova had raised her altitude, turning to bring her cargo ramp toward the building. The ramp started to lower, a familiar form walking down.:: ::It was James. On his back was a portable power generator. In his hands was a man-portable phase cannon. Protected by Nova’s shield bubble, he strode down the ramp, yanked the cannon’s charging lever, and took aim at the remaining defenders.:: ::His shots punched through their emplacements, and served as a hell of a distraction. Kaitlyn was back on her feet in an instant, her pistols comparatively wimpy looking but managing to drop the few who looked her way.:: ::She passed through the shield bubble at a dead sprint, weapon blasts being stopped behind her. Now fully spent, Kaitlyn’s legs finally failed as she got halfway up the ramp, James holding his fire to grab Kaitlyn’s arm and keep her from falling.:: ::The grab, while reasonable, BURNED.:: =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Lt Commander Kaitlyn Falcon Chief Helm Officer Starbase 118 / U.S.S. Albion F237507RF0 =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
  13. (( Mission Specialist Office - Deck 1 - USS Athena )) :: She had been in the middle of a nap when her PADD had chimed and a message had been displayed by someone named Commander David Cody. As far she could think, Shiarrael had never met anyone by that name, but human faces were still quite difficult to tell the difference at times. :: :: Having found a clean dark gray-black jumpsuit with her rank and Republic insignia embroidered in silver, she took a quick look in the mirror and growled at her hair. It was a bit mangy, and though she usually did not care. Being made Liaison Officer meant she had to keep putting her good foot forward. :: :: Having finally arrived at the office, she rang the chime preferring not to barge in. :: oO Make him leave his defensive position. Oo :: David glanced up, pouring through the reports lighting up his slim padd, and blinked. oO I should have paid better attention. Oo Still musing, he glanced around as he spoke. :: Cody: Enter! Shiarrael: I'm Tribune Shiarrael Ei-Ihhliae. I got your message. :: David stood and gave the Tribune a polite bow, acknowledging her status. :: Cody: :: soft:: Thank you for seeing me, Tribune Shiarrael. I trust no one’s bothered you. Shiarrael: Bother me? People either like me or have the brains to leave me alone. :: In this, David preferred to defer to Shiarrael, as he was about to ask her some things she likely no longer wanted to discuss. :: Cody: Selene… or if you prefer, Sundessa, read me in. Something’s come up. And it very well may be related to when the future Victory came through into this universe. :: As Shiarrael had sat down and crossed her leg trying to look as relaxed as she could. Unannounced meetings were not one of her strong suits and trying not to think of ways to kill him if he tried to come at her was very difficult. The lovely styluses on his desk had such a wonderful point to them. :: Shiarrael: I only know her as Selene, Commander. You might be confusing me with my alternate self that was killed in 2391. If you want to know more I’d suggest looking up the records. :: David gave her a long look, and silently shook his head. :: Cody: Temporal Affairs likely will not let me see their files. So, I went digging into the past to find information because we’re about to head off to a planet where there’s evidence of Yelta influence. Shiarrael: Point? Cody: Please don’t think of this as an interruption. And no, she wasn’t killed in 2391. I did look up the records. And yes, there was a Shiarrael who was killed in that year, but there was a curious incident last year. ::a sad smile:: So… I was left with the question of how a certain high ranking officer could have obtained information they couldn’t have possibly obtained, with someone named Shiarrael involved. If you say it’s not you, we close the book, nothing ever gets said again, I’ll dig deeper and find someone else who can tell me why Commander Prendar has been chasing temporal abnormalities, long before the 2414 incursion. Shiarrael: Fvadt. What the hell are you talking about? First, you tell me that my twin, who by the way was Captain Faranfey's first officer, is still alive, and then you come way out of nowhere accusing me of giving out some information without telling me what information. I don't like games. I don't even know this Prendar. :: Shiarrael had no interest to hide her irritation because this man was rubbing her the wrong way. The stylus was starting to look really good. :: Cody: Well, he seems to know quite a deal about almost every single temporal event. ::narrowing his eyes:: Which means he’s been keeping a closer eye on everything than I have. But hey, I don’t have to care. Hell, I don’t even have to dig as much as I have… but you know what? I happen to believe in Selene, and it’s my job to investigate. That’s what I do, and I don’t quit. So if you say you don’t know anything, then I apologize, I’m sorry for wasting your time. I’ll just poke around Temporal Affairs instead. Maybe I’ll find what I’m looking for there if I don’t get killed in the process. :: David collected himself. He knew this was a long shot. :: Shiarrael: ::angry:: Here's something to help clear the waters, i believe is the human saying. I don't give a damn about Selene's mission. There are only two things I care about onboard this ship and that's Talia Kaji and the Republic's interests. If I get to blast alien scum, then it's a nice bonus. I’m not part of your game, Commander Cody. Go play spies with your own people. :: Short, and cold, David shook his head. :: Cody: Not my people. I only care about hunting down and destroying the people who think they can bring this frakking Hunger to my universe. Thank you. :: He jerked his head. So she no longer cared. He’d find someone else. :: Cody: ::cold:: If you change your mind and actually start caring again, you know where to find me. I thought you of all people wanted the Hunger exterminated. Guess I was wrong. Go convince the universe you are who you claim. I won’t be bothering you again. :: Her eyes were burning cold at the man who was speaking to her. Was it being dragged in unannounced or was it that she just didn't care? At the moment, her anger had won the round and a million years of her people's arrogance had gotten through. She wasn’t sure which emotion was the appropriate one. Standing, she made her way for the door and turned. :: Shiarrael: ::icy:: And Commander. The next time you need to speak with me, make an appointment with my holo-secretary. I'd hate our conversations to become a diplomatic incident. As you say, the captain has enough to worry about than a complaint from the Republic. :: Smirking, David nodded. :: Cody: Don’t worry, Tribune. There won’t be a next time. There might not even be a universe to come back to. Kinda seems like little things like that, there may not be anyone left. Certainly not the Federation. Maybe none of us, if what I hear is true about the Hunger. Have a pleasant day. :: First instinct was to fire back another retort, but that was not going to help the situation. All it would do would be to make her madder and closer to doing something she'd regret. Turning her back and heading out of the office, she stopped as soon as the door hissed shut. Her anger had begun to subside. She grimaced at the first thought that flitted into her head. :: Shiarrael: ::muttering:: Frak. Talia is going to be [...]ed at me. JP By.... PNPC Tribune Shiarrael Liaison Officer Romulan Republic As Simmed By… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lieutenant John Nugra Security Officer USS Athena, NCC-97780 Podcast Team Facilitator Deputy Commandant Captain's Council Magistrate Provisional Fleet JAG Officer Publicity Facilitator (Interim) V238008N10 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ & Commander David Cody Mission Specialist USS Athena, NCC-97780 P237106MB0 hoodsdavid@gmail.com
  14. (( F.M.S. Krayvat - Corridor )) ::Mr. Whittaker had clearly stated they were leaving Ms. Trel'lis behind, despite all of their protests. She badly wished to protest further, but she came to the realization that this was another thing that she, as a civillian, just wouldn't understand. And this Starfleet Commander was clearly more prepared to handle situations such as this, and besides a minor run in with an electrical current, she'd been kept out of harm..:: Shadonna: We're coming back for her...right? We're not just going to leave her here forever?...::She glanced around.:: Wait...::In her panic, her voice rose:: WHERE IS DUCHESS?! ::In the chaos, she had somehow lost hold of her beloved pet, but where could she be? She was never far from her at any given time. She wasn't a fan of walking like a common pet...oO Oh why didn't I place her in her carrier?? Oo she began to frantically search around her feet, becoming more distraught at each passing moment.:: Hobbs: Lady Shadonna. ::beat:: We have to go. Duchess will try to follow us. ::In full panic mode, she had momentarily forgotten their rather precarious situation, and any previous hopes of a stealthy retreat were certainly dashed.:: Shadonna: ::panicked:: Hobbs! We can't leave her! She's so tiny, and innocent, and delicate! ::fretting:: Oh my...my little baby..::near tears:: Hobbs: Lady Shadonna, look at these people around you. ::He waited a moment before continuing.:: These officers are risking their lives to keep us safe. We can’t go back for Duchess. ::He adopted a look of deep sympathy. It was no mystery how much she cared for her tiny pet.:: We have to go. Falcon: Assuming it’s not already too- Puhn-Lon: You little! ::The grunt of pain and exclamation from the guard brought Shadonna crash landing back into the present. If that wasn't enough, the squealy, airborne form of her beloved little pet sailing towards Ensign Taelon's face with a surprisingly high velocity was sure to to have done it. Letting out a little shriek in a mixture of relief and alarm, Shadonna watched as both Taelon and Duchess struggled to gain control of the "out of control" situation. With her arms outstretched impatiently for her precious pet, she was suddenly shoved to the ground as a barrage of blaster fire erupted around them. Terrified for her life, she covered her head with her arms protectively, but did manage to see a little pink tuft scampering angrily down the corridor away from the eminent danger.:: Falcon: Down! Shadonna: oO Oh Duchess be careful!! I'll find you my little one! Oo ::Cowering on the floor, she began to shake as the lights suddenly cut out and the sound of heavy boots hitting the deck-plates came closer. Surely they were done for now...no way they were going to get out of this...:: Puhn-Lonb: Mir, Huun- back me up! Whittaker: ::Whittaker’s voice strained from the agony.:: Help! Zinna: ::softly:: Commander! ::Instinctively, her eyes sought out the cry for help. There was a time...although it seemed eons ago, that she would have dove in front of the severely injured Commander, offering herself as additional protection...but now? She was so terrified she could barely move, despite the heavy form of who she assumed was Hobbs, shielding her. She felt helpless, and selfish, and she hated herself for it. Not a single fiber of her being would allow her to move and offer assistance. When had she allowed this to happen...? Had she really lost every shred of who she used to be, to become who she was now? oO What a time for an epiphany...Manu protect him...Oo Puhn-Lon: You will not escape! You should have surrendered! ::Tears filled her eyes and began to spill over. They should have surrendered, surrendered and begged for mercy. What had fighting back gotten them? Their current death sentence about to brought down upon them. She head the unmistakable crack of metal against bone and prayed for the Gods to comfort and make all of their deaths quick...:: Falcon: No! YOU should have surrendered. ::Shadonna's eyes shot up, she knew that voice, and it was one of theirs. And it was [...]ed! She watched in unabashed awe as Commander Falcon delivered a swift and brutal hit, taking out a guard with brutal efficiency. oO I so want to be just like her when I grow up...Oo They weren't quite out of danger yet, taking out the one had just angered the others, and made the fiery haired killing machine a nice, pretty target. Phaser blasts once again started in a series of angry blasts. Luckily, a few of the other crew had managed to get their hands on a few weapons of their own, and were returning in kind. Things seemed to be pretty evenly matched. Well...mostly...:: Whittaker: Please tell me you know how to fire that thing?! Taelon: I - ::Shadonna watched as a blast ricochet off the bulkhead above them before landing...somewhere.:: Taelon: N-n-not really, sir. Zinna: ::still on the floor:: oO Then put it down before you hurt one of us! Oo Whittaker: ::He called out into the gloom:: Trel'lis? Where are you?! Trel'lis: ::Her voice was a whisper:: Over here, about a half-meter from your location. I did a tuck-and-roll, when they opened fire. Whittaker: Good to know you're still with us! :: beat, attempting to boost morale :: And everyone else? Taelon: Alive. ::He paused.:: I think. Zinna: ::finally getting up from the deck:: I'm fine commander... ::Still prostrate on the floor, she gave a little multi-digit finger wave:: Shadonna: ::slightly muffled:: I'm ok too...::whispering directly to Hobbs:: I think you can get off me now... Hobbs: Response? Whittaker: We may yet get out of this yet! Trel’lis: Let’s not breathe too easy yet. ::beat:: I can guarantee you there will be *more* guards, drawn by the weapons fire. Zinna: ::sarcastically:: Terrific... Taelon: Oh. Good. ::The fire seemed to have stopped. Had they managed to shoot everyone? That couldn’t be all of them…:: Trel’lis: Let’s get outta here, before anyone *else* shows up! Zinna: ::Walking away from the group to take a breath:: oO You can say that again... Oo ::Hopping up, she unconsciously held her non burned hand out for Hobbs, not even realizing she was offering him assistance. Once he was up, she brushed herself off and looked warily down the hazy corridor.:: Shadonna: Great plan...I have no desire to be the welcome entertainment for the reinforcements... Trel’lis: I’m just glad my little ‘ploy’ worked and allowed for a countermeasure. Taelon: ::He managed a smile, however brief.:: I’m just glad you’re alright, honestly. Um - to the core, then? ::The Core? What was that again? She knew of a club she used to play at when she first started, but she highly doubted they were heading towards a disco...:: Zinna: ::nodding:: Ready... Shadonna: ::glancing around:: Wait where is- ::She felt a hand slap over her mouth. Right. Not this again. Giving an apologetic look towards Hobbs, she gave a swift nod in understanding and decided Duchess seemed to handle her little targ self well enough...:: Taelon: Oh - ::Taelon looked from Whittaker to Falcon, and abruptly shoved the gun he was holding towards Falcon, offering it with a note of desperation.:: You should probably take this, sir. Before I shoot someone. Again... ::Her eyes widened, oO That blast was him ?? Oo, she slid a little farther away just to be on the safe side...:: Taelon: Sir, with all due respect, you kind of look like you lost a fight with a Gorn. ::He paused, and muttered.:: S-sorry, it’s a regional phrase - but - it might be best if I carry you? Having the others drag you might make things worse? ::Sobering, Shadonna got a better look at the broken looking Mr. Whittaker. Shame washed through her, hadn't she just been cowering on the floor, and here he was...obviously torn to shreds, but not yet giving up...:: Zinna: I may not be a medical officer anymore, sir, but as the only one with current medical experience, I second Taelon's suggestion. You've been terribly injured, multiple times. The last thing we need is a supervising officer who can't lead us. Whittaker: :: holding out a hand :: Thankyou Ensign. ::Standing back, she winced right along with everyone when the battered officer let out a groan of pain. This man needed a physician, immediately. She'd buy him 10 as soon as they got out of here...:: Whittaker: Ensign, it occurs to me how much help you have been today. You've helped keep us all safe where you can and you've managed to do your duty despite being injured. :: beat :: I am hereby giving you a field promotion to Lieutenant, junior grade until we get escape this mess. Taelon: Response? Whittaker: Now, you mentioned a computer core? Taelon: Response? Whittaker: :: nodding :: Agreed. :: beat :: Lead on. :: looking to Trel'lis :: Lieutenant, grab one of the Orion's disruptors and bring up the rear. Shadonna: ::bouncing happily on the balls of her feet:: Oooh promotions!! I love promotions! Whittaker: Find the targ and then take point. with Taelon. :: turning to Zinna :: Counselor, can I borrow you a moment? Zinna: Response? ::While Commander Whittaker had a private word with Zinna, Shadonna clapped merrily, doing happy little dance and making her way to Taelon. Grasping his newly promoted officer's face in both her hands, she laid a big kiss right against his lips. Pulling back she beamed happily.:: Shadonna: Congratulations Lieutenant JG Taelon! You have been ever so brave...::batting her lashes:: Falcon/Zinna/Taelon/Whittaker/Hobbs: Response? ::Hearing the throat clearing, Shadonna casually released the captured Taelon and caught the look Hobbs was giving her.:: Shadonna: ::looking confused, whispering directly to Hobbs:: What..? Whittaker: Is everybody ready to go? Shadonna: ::turning her attention back to Theo, raising her hand slightly:: I'm ready! Whittaker: In that case: move out! ~*~ MSNPC Lady Shadonna Diva As simmed by... Lieutenant Mirra Ezo, MDChief Medical Officer Starbase 118 OpsC239205ME0
  15. ((Illogical Eatery - StarBase 118)) ::Ah, the smells of the logically healthy breakfast breads baking in traditional Vulcan stone ovens always warmed the heart of Professor Cade Foster. Though some would say he didn't have much of a heart to warm, he continually proved otherwise, especially as he aged. The tall, broad shouldered human strode into the restaurant looking for his companion - who was always early. Irritatingly early. Always had been. Still, it was good to see an old friend. Cade Foster hadn't seen director Aerdan Jos in nearly a year so when the two found out they would be on the massive StarBase 118 together Cade vowed to spend as much time as humanely possible catching up. He was even conniving a way to drag his companion's recalcitrant, introverted companion to the big concert happening on the base. Maybe, with enough liquid courage he could make that happen.:: C. Foster: Heeeyyyy, blue-Klingon! How's Starfleet medical treating you? ::For his cheerful, if teasing efforts he received a patient and long-suffering sigh. It was just like old times.:: Jos: Well enough. ::The Andorian smiled, speaking with a soft lisp traditional of the people of the cold northern plains, while pushing a menu forward:: I already ordered you coffee. C. Foster: Tcha. What if I wanted tea? Jos: The day you start drinking tea is the day I wonder if you've been replaced by a shapeshifter. ::Cade Foster shook his head, chuckling as he sat. He worked with the man across the table for over twenty years. They had been antagonists, odd co-workers, allies and finally fast friends. They were as different as possible to some degree. Jos was married, divorced, remarried, with children, brothers, nephews, and plenty of friends. Cade was never married, cruising on an erratic course through life with few friends but those he had were good ones. And after all these years they could still trade insults and enjoy every minute of it.:: C. Foster: No shapeshifter would impersonate me, and you know it. Besides, even if they did all they would have to do all day is put up with you. Jos: ::The antennae flattened a little, while his companion's face stayed serene.:: Well, I love you, too, Cade. C. Foster: Let's not get into that again. ::he chortled, slurping the coffee. It was black and strong; typical for a Vulcan brew. And it was good. It was one of the reasons he liked this place.:: Hey you get tickets to the concert that's coming up? Jos: Let's see... loud, insipid popular music with a screaming crowd of people one quarter our age? ::a thoughtful pause:: no. C. Foster: Aww, c'mon. You should live a little! I can get tickets for the both of us. ::He paused, catching the wince of his companion:: And I'll get you earplugs. Antennae plugs. Ooh! No, I know! I'll get you antennae-muffs! I'll even make 'em blue and sparkly... ::he was trailing off into laughter at the ever increasingly unimpressed gaze he was getting in return.:: Jos: ::diverting:: You should order food. C. Foster: You didn't say no... ::he wagged a finger:: Jos: No. ::smirk:: Better. C. Foster: I can change that answer, just gimmie a few hours. Jos: ::A smirk, but one with less self-assurance.:: I'll believe it when I see it. ::A challenge, though one he knew he had an equal chance of winning or losing.:: Anyways... ::his tone turned more businesslike:: I was wondering if you were going to the psychiatric review board for the penal colony on Vesperatin VI? ::Cade sighed, rolling his eyes lightly. Since taking a professorship he found he had a raft of summers free, and when he wasn't writing papers and trying to impress everyone with his medical genius he had been called upon as a specialist in more than a few cases of high profile Federation trials. Some of them fascinated him - he absolutely loved delving into the medical mysteries of crime and figuring out the answers he hated the whole 'working with people and acting like a counselor' bit. In fact, the only reason he kept getting called on to help out was that he was very good at figuring out whether inmates were faking various ailments - physical and mental - or not. Coupled with brutal honesty he was a prosecutor's dream ally. But it didn't mean he enjoyed doing it.:: C. Foster: Two weeks, talking to a bunch of ex-Starfleet crazies? No thanks. ::he waved his hand in dismissal, stopping only when he registered the look on his companion's face.:: ::Jos' eyes widened fractionally, but the antennae were upright in surprise. It made Cade draw a breath in through his teeth, waiting for whatever bad punchline was about to drop.:: Jos: Here I thought I would have had to drag you away from that assignment kicking and screaming... ::he lisped very quietly, like a child dipping toes into the water to test the temperature.:: C. Foster: You did? ::That earned a quirk of a shaggy graying brow:: Why on Earth would you think I'd want to waste a week there when there's fun stuff in the galaxy to do? ::He was getting the sneaking sensation that he was missing something important.:: ::Aerdan Jos let his expression furrow into a slow forming frown, his antennae dropping downwards. Cade Foster was a smart man, and he would have certainly not forgotten that the Vesperatin colony housed one Thomas Janeway, who was up for an 18 month review. Not that his sentence would be overturned - but it would mean the difference between staying at the medical incarceration facilities on Vesperatin or being transferred to a more secure location. Jos was expecting to have to step in and force Foster away from the job due to a conflict of interest, but he was also assuming that Foster was fully aware of said conflict and would be trying to pull the wool over Aerdan's eyes. When in fact, it appeared that Dr. Jos was the one with all the knowledge and Cade was the one who was completely in the dark. He clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth in disappointment. This sort of information was not freely shared with retired Starfleet doctors; however Dr. Jos had fully expected Cade's son would have willingly shared the information with his father. Then again he wasn't too surprised. He knew how hard it was to pry information out of Cade. Wyn was much younger, much more foolish and much more stubborn. Now the question was: How to broach the subject?:: Jos: I'm assuming you haven't talked to Wyn lately, have you? ::He was one of the few Andorians who actually called Shar'Wyn by his preferred Human sounding name rather than the Andorian pronunciation. It was a battle he stopped fighting years ago.:: C. Foster: Talk to him about every other week. He just got off some crazy Suliban mission. ::Pause, suspicion flooded his expression:: Why? Jos: ::he closed his eyes momentarily, looking very tired. He did not want to be the person to break this news to an old friend. But it was far worse to withhold the information, so he was going to have to endure a mighty unpleasant conversation.:: I don't suppose he ever told you why he was moved to the USS Apollo-A? C. Foster: Something about the Calderaan incident... ::He started, his gaze getting dark, tinged with worry.:: Why? ::Cade knew all about the Calderaan incident. He had raged about the Calderaan incident, and finally chalked it up to a bad reputation and a bad chief medical officer. That said, he considered it character building. His adopted son had risen in ranks, and regained his position on a fairly prestigious galaxy class starship, so he was wracking his brain for what he might have missed. Or worse, what Wyn might never had told him.:: Jos: ::The director sighed, grabbing his PADD and typing in a few passcodes to bring up a few choice - and classified - reports before pushing the PADD towards his friend.:: Read. ::Cade Foster's face turned a curious shade of purple as he digested the words on the PADD. Red rose up his throat and twisted his mouth into a feral sort of snarl, teeth bared and eyes slitted. When he was done he slammed the PADD to the table with enough force to crack the reinforced screen.:: C. Foster: I have to go. ::breakfast remained untouched.:: Jos: Cade... ::he started gently, snowy brows creasing in concern.:: C. Foster: Don't Cade me. ::He spat back, almost apologetically. He kept reminding himself it was a very bad idea to bite the messenger.:: I'm gonna go kill someone. Or talk some sense into some one. Pray it's the latter. Jos: Please don't make me have to sedate you and tie you to a biobed to keep you from doing something stupid. ::It was only partially a joke to diffuse the situation. It was partially a valid concern.:: ::Cade Foster paused, offering a light huff. He would try the diplomatic way first. As diplomatic as he could get. He might also try to hop a high speed shuttle and warp his way over to StarBase 11, and depending on how any preliminary conversations went, he might also try very hard to take a trip to Vespera VI with a spiked bat and a Klingon Painstick. Which was exactly the point where he knew his friend would intervene.:: C. Foster: I'll start with a comcall. Happy? Jos: ::he shook his head no in an earnest manner:: No... but I realized you needed to know. ::beat:: In return, please don't do anything stupid. C. Foster: Fine, deal. ::It wasn't too hard to agree to.:: But I gotta make this call. ::He turned and rushed out, leaving his breakfast companion to dine in unpleasantly contemplative silence.:: ~*~ tbc... ~*~ pNPC Professor Cade Foster Harvard University Earth by Lt Commander Shar'Wyn Foster Chief Medical Officer USS Constitution-B
  16. ((Dr. Foster’s Quarters - USS Constitution-B)) (Time index: Sometime after the Bowling Party) ::Wyn was not having a good shore leave. The sudden transfer of Nate Wilmer weighed heavy on his mind, over and above his resurfacing mental problems. His not-quite-spat with Sinda had unearthed more emotional damage than he cared to admit and he had fallen into full on hiding mode after the bowling party in an effort to stave off panic attacks. Or, more realistically to simply be in a position to deal with them somewhere dark, quiet and isolated. For a while he had been in his office, staying away from Ozameen as to not bother the poor kid more. But Oz was taking the sudden leaving of Kael pretty hard, giving Wyn a little breathing room for his own troubles. He was being good tonight, just sitting and relaxing, trying to work up the courage to call his father before leave was over and maybe tell him the truth of what all was going on. Wyn’s whole quarters were very dim, very cool and very quiet. Just the way he liked them when he was being antisocial. Which was why the knocking on the door and the slash of bright light that followed it was such a jarring change from his quiet meditation:: Foster: ::Grumbling, but not really grumbling:: Who in the fresh pits is it…? ::Rustyy wasn't the brightest fella on board, but at times he was the most crafty when it came to things along the lines of fixing ship and making up a still that made his family brew... If he was ever busted it would be the end of his career. But until then - he was going to be a good friend... This would make him a good friend right? He was terrible, and he hoped it wouldn't scare the Andorian off. Here he was like a fool, with an untested bottle of fresh brew. He banged on the door and helped himself in... Was that to much? Dang it - too late.:: Hael: I's'a gots good news, eh! ::standing at Wyns door.:: wanna sip ::holds up bottle of booze.:: fresh from the ... Wells reckon it be fresh booze… Is I botherin’ ya? ::he noticed the dimmed lights as he stood in the doorway.:: ::His antennae perked upwards, sapphire eyes shining. There were many people who, if they randomly knocked on his door, would get a very swift ‘go away’ - then again those people didn’t tend to actually knock on his door. However Rustyy was one of the people Wyn trusted, one of them that he not only would not chase away, but immediately invite inside because the truth was he loved companionship.:: Foster: No, no… not bothering me. I was just… resting. ::He stepped backwards, brightening the lights somewhat.:: Did you say fresh booze? Hael: ::childish, boyish grin spreading like wildfire across his face.:: Oh yea’s we done gots us a still… ::paused. It was Wyn, he trusted him.:: In engineerin’ just a small thing real’y. This be the first batch dones an’ ready for drinkin’! ::Rustyy stepped fully into Wyns quarters to let the door close behind him… Probably should have thought about that before opening his mouth about the still. :: Foster: ::Both snowy eyebrows raised:: Did you say still? ::He grinned slowly, offering a deep chuckle:: Why am I not surprised…? ::He walked inside, waving Rustyy with him. Wyn’s quarters were very clean, with a main central area and two wings - one for Oz and Mark, the other for him. It was also notable that most of Wyn’s furniture, especially the stuff on his side of the room, lacked legs. There was a fluffy couch that lay on the ground, a pile of furs and pillows that served as a chair and a very low table that accommodated both.:: Foster: Welcome to my humble home. ::Wyn paused as Rustyy offered over the bottle and he hesitated, He had been a very good boy lately, not drinking a lick in fear that Sinda would come knocking and write him up. Or call him stupid. Or do the thing that she threatened to do, which make his skin want to crawl. Then again, if one was quiet, no one cared. And this was Rustyy. And Rustyy was Rustyy. That had to count for something.:: Foster: ::Thoughtfully, carefully.:: Should I get glasses? Or plastic cups? ::He smirked:: ::He looked around with wide eyes. It was a lot bigger and a heck of a lot cleaner than his room was… Ever. A warm feeling made him smile. He had barged in and was still being welcomed. He cradled the bottle as he followed Wyn.:: Hael: Oh, well’s I don’ be needin’ anythin’ fancy.. Plastic be just fine Foster: I got that. ::he bounded over to the cupboard and returned with two plastic goblets, the sort that bounced when dropped.:: Hael: I hear’s you was dealin’ with some fun stuff up here’s durin’ that there last mission. ::The mission. Yes, let’s talk about the mission. Not the shore leave. That was infinitely less fun.:: Foster: ::he shrugged:: Not so much. A autopsy and some computer eating virus. I heard you got ambushed by crazy people? Hael: Always somethin’ try’n’a eat the computer ::he grumbled.:: An I tell’ya’s wha’... All them folks was crazy… But I didn’ get no one killed, so all is good. ::He put the cups on the table and flopped into the low cushioned chair, stretching out and gesturing for Rustyy to pour:: ::Rustyy smirked and filled the glasses to the brim with shaky hands and pursed lips all in focus. He plopped down and grabbed the glasses, handing one to Wyn. It took everything he had to not spill the overflowing goblets. He fidgeted a little, not use to the lack of supports when he sat, but boy it was nice.:: Foster: Hey, no one dying is a good thing! I’ll drink to that. ::Yep, that was a massive hint there.:: Hael: Here, here! ::he clinked the cups together.:: Foster: hear hear! :: a toast! To being alive! Which was as good of a reason to toast as any!:: ::Wyn took a sip of the stuff, considering and then a bit more before he coughed a bit:: Foster: That’s good. It’s strong. It’s good. ::Rustyy nodded and took a hefty gulp. Not the smartest thing for the first batch, but what the heck, he was drinking with a doctor. Him and one other working on the still had argued over what they should make first. He had won, with a blueberry mash. Something told him it would be liked by someone.. He regretting downing so much at once as he lost his breath and felt the burn down his throat.:: Hael: You taste that there .. ::cough… Taste.. Cough.:: Hint of them blue-berries? Blue - brandy… Foster: I taste the blue. ::he nodded, taking another drink.:: I do. I’m blue… ::Looking into the cup:: How strong is this? Hael: ::very innocent shrug.:: Fig’r ‘bout… 70 proof… ::he picked up the bottle and shook it.::: see dem bubblies? Lots means ::he smiled.:: gettin’ drunk faster. ::he took another gulp, coughed and blinked a few time.:: ::So not *quite* as strong as Romulan ale. Good to know.:: Foster: Well then this should be a fun trip. ::He grinned, his teeth looking very white against his blue skin in the dimmed light of his quarters:: So… what do you want to talk about? ::Drinking:: Hael: ::paused.:: I called one them fellas on the planet, Rumplestiltskin… He didn’ get it. Do you gets it? ::he had to make sure it wasn't just him… Sip.:: Foster: I know the reference… but I grew up on Earth so that doesn’t say much for my reference getting abilities. ::he shrugged, taking another sip:: What was he? A noxious little troll? Hael: ::curious.:: No…. Big ol’ built mister actually. ::chuckled.:: His shoulders was as wide as I is tall… well’s, just ‘bout. ::sip:: Foster: ::Perking both brows:: Ohhh, I see. ::a chuckle:: Tell me how you managed to not get anyone killed again? Hael: With me charmin’ personality I reckon’s ::he laughed, a real laugh that seemed to need some dusting off.:: Could be a cap’in or somethin’. ::he chuckled and shook his head then finished the rest of his cup..:: Foster: ::He shook his head slowly:: Wouldn’t want to be a Captain. I’m better at doing my job. No time for posing on a bridge. ::He took a drink to that:: How about you? ::It took far more effort than normal, to sit up and refill his glass. The sensation of being not in contact with his body, yet heavy as a rock told him he should have eaten before chugging high proof booze. With bug eyes, he did his best to not jerk and spill the clear, yet slightly tinted liquor into his glass. He offered Wyn a topper.:: Hael: ::slightly beat.:: Oh hells, not me. I ain’ cut out fer that role, none. ::sip… gulp.:: ::Wyn nodded in agreement. There was a part of him that was honestly shocked that someone saw fit to make him a chief medical officer. Then again he ran a tight ship in sickbay; but it was what he was good at. Other leadership roles? Not so much.:: Foster: Me neither. ::He grinned, swishing the alcohol around in his glass:: Remember those command classes in the academy? ::He smirked:: I ended up skipping them for extra credits in xenopharmacology. Hael: ::he stared blankly at Wyn… that was a big boy word!:: Nah, I took them classes at school, just like ev’rone else… But I only done it ‘cause of this cute gal… spoke some crazy thing ::he waved his hand.:: I done had to learn, to just say ::rednecked.:: “Hi” ::That prompted a long sigh from the Andorian as he rolled off the chair and headed to the replicator. Doctor sense was kicking in and he replicated two non-alcoholic drinks to compliment the alcohol, pressing one in front of Rustyy.:: Foster: Ahh, I remember the days of in class dating ::a chuckle:: Those days are long gone. Hael: Yea’ they is. ::he took the offered drink and wet his whistle… .Paused with a coy smile.:: But them was easier than on ships, eh? ::Wyn shook his head very slowly:: Foster: Shipside dating is a baaaaaad idea. I think people who get stationed on ships are forever doomed to be bachelors and bachelorettes. Hael: Oh? I dunno ‘bout all tha’ ::his optimism shined best when he had a good buzz.:: So long as you ain’ ‘fraid to fight. My mama and pa’ an’ seven kiddies all locked up toge’er fer three months at’a time, ‘bout like bein’ on a ship. Foster: ::he shook his head and spoke with the voice of heavy experience:: No. When you date a co-worker it gets weird. It goes from romance to tragedy at warp speed… Hael: ::Sheepishly.:: sleepin’ with someone ain’ like datin’ right? Foster: ::He hiked one snowy brow sky high:: Rustyy! Sleeping with someone is exactly like dating someone, unless said second sleeper is a pet or under the age of three… ::cough cough:: I mean platonic relationships are few and far between, but yeah… usually sleeping means biology, yanno? Hael: Oh… ::he turned several shades redder.:: Foster: ::Leaning forward with a curious expression:: Who are you sleeping with…? Hael: Uh… Wells… ::his lips danced over his teeth.:: One them gals that work fer me… I think… Foster: You think!? ::Both antennae raised in alarm:: Rustyy! Either you slept with her or you didn’t - and how do you forget sleeping with someone? How do you think and now know?! Hael: ::shrugged.:: I don’ ‘member none. ::chuckled.:: Was drinkin then too. ::he held up the drink proudly.:: But she ain’ said nothin’ none either, so I’m’a thinkin’ I didn’t…. ::he kind of pouted. He was no ladies man for sure..:: Foster: Well, you could go through the checklist - ::he started ticking off on his spindly blue fingers:: Did you wake up in the same bed? Was she wearing clothing? Were you wearing clothing? Did you have any itching or burning sensations in the groin area afterwards? Hael: ::he couldn’t turn redder. He mumbled and squirmed a little.:: No itching or burning…. Foster: ::Shrugs: Well, then you’re probably safe. Probably. Hael: Even still, though… I’s’a don’ why it ain’ a thang. ::facepalm… Fantastic, now he was sounding like his mama.:: Foster: Because girls are weird and they get crazy once you start dating. ::he shrugged. Wyn - the ever eloquent, and arguably completely clueless person when it came to women.:: Hael: But… People needs people and gals are people… Right? Foster: ::He shrugged:: Of course people need people. ::pause:: But people will also tear out your heart and destroy it if you let them. My advice is to be careful. ::Rustyy turned his head a little and took a hefty drink of the real alcohol, then chased it with a gulp from the non-alcoholic one. He knew people like that. Children could be so cruel with such little regard for how it affected others in the long run… It hadn’t been since then that he had even took this much time to spend with someone else. He felt the head coming off his face.:: Hael: ::clearing his throat.:: Yea’ no kiddin’, eh. ::he shook his head and that goldfish brian did the work for him.:: I’s’a ain’ worried none… I got this thang - no one ever calls back. ::he snorted.:: Foster: I know how that feels. ::He muttered a little.:: Hael: So you ain’ seein’ no one? Even pla- plo... plo-ton-i-cally? ::he eked out.:: Foster: ::He snorted, nearly spitting out his drink:: [...], Rustyy, beyond Mark you’re the only person who comes to call. ::He shook his head:: After I left Atlantis I haven’t seen jack and crap as far as action. Hael: ::sitting up.:: Who’s Jack? Foster: ::He twitched one antennae in irritation:: It’s a saying. It means nothing, barren, dry, nope, less than zero. Hael: ::he nodded, then sighed:: I don’ get it none, either…. I mean, I like you. ::he pointed at him.:: You like’s me… Why don’ others? ::Wyn opened his mouth, and then stopped. What he was about to say was: ‘Well, because you’re weird and I have a terrible personality…’ But he figured that didn’t reflect well on either one of them:: Foster: I… uh… I don’t know, Rustyy… I don’t know. I guess they’re all too normal for us? Hael: ::He smiled.:: I’d buy tha’... An’ I think tha’ calls fer more drinkin’ ::he held up his half emptied glass.:: ‘Cause tha’ there is just ev’ryone else loss. ::Wyn smiled, refilling the glasses. And this was why he liked Rustyy.:: Foster: True, that. ::He toasted the engineer.:: And they don’t have ‘shine - and we do. Hael: So… Who’d you have a crush on, on tha’ there other ship, eh? ::he asked innocently.:: Foster: ::He coughed a little:: It wasn’t so much a crush… ::Coughing more… did he drink something wrong, or was he directly trying to avoid something?:: Hael: Oh? ::he asked and wiggled like a high school girl chatting up her bestie about the latest gossip… Or crush.:: Foster: ::he shook his head:: She was the chief engineer ::Irony. Right there.:: There was a holodeck program that went wrong, way wrong. ::He paused, taking a very long drink:: And afterwards she wanted to have kids. ::Shrug, as if that was the most normal relationship progression, ever.:: Hael: ::blankest stare ever.:: Was she … Sounds like… Is that crazy? ::that little description only described his mom… He scratched his head. He was hesitant to admit that though.:: My folks met once an’ started havin’ kids right ‘way… Tha’ ain’ to crazy is it? Foster: ::With surety:: She was crazy. Though the entire ship was crazy. ::He gave a long low sigh.:: Hael: ::wry chuckle.:: Aww, she couldn’ be- ::he cut himself off.:: The whole ship, eh? I’s’a be takin’ it righ’ to say, not in the good way. ::Wyn shook his head slowly. This was something he hadn’t talked about - really hadn’t even dealt with in his mind in a year and a half. He really must be drunk.:: Foster: No, not in the good way. Not at all. ::he shook his head.:: Either that or they were sane and I was crazy. But I prefer to believe it was the other way around. Hael: Eh. ::he shrugged and winked.:: I reckon tha’ there be dependin’ on who yer askin’. ::he propped his head up on a fist a looked at Wyn, big brown eyes - mostly watching the antennae, but with a sincere expression of interest..:: Foster:Well, lets see.. I was the one kicked off the ship, so that probably means I was the asshole, right. ::He shook his head. It was one of the things he didn’t like to talk about.:: So, yeah, my luck in so-called love is abysmal. ::he looked down at his boots. He got the feeling he was lurking in an undesirable area for Wyn. He chewed on his bottom lip. He picked up on vibes, though never fully understood them. He got the feeling things needed to be vented but weren’t ready yet. So he would talk about something else! That always worked.:: Hael: Means you jus’ ain’ found tha’ there righ’ one yet!.. You know wha’ we need? Foster: ::He turned his somewhat bleary sapphire gaze towards Rustyy:: What do we need? Hael: Beer! You ev’r had tha’? We only ev’r had it imported, but I bet’cha we could replicate it. Mighty tasty, an’ ain’ nothin’ like whisky, bourbon, or brandy. Foster: We need… beer? ::He shook his head a little, not following that logic.:: OK, first, of course I had beer. And second… how does beer tie into bad love stories? Hael: Well’s… It don’, real’y. ::deer caught in the headlights.:: I’s’a jus’ thought it sounded good… ::he [...]ed his head..:: Foster: Well… ::he offered a nod of agreement:: It does sound good. Though I think tonight it might put us on the puke train. That said, I do rather like beer... Hael: ::he clapped his hands.:: Well’s it’s’a good thang I knows this fella who’s a doctor, make yer tummy feel fine. ::he smiled proudly at Wyn.:: You. ::just incase he didn’t get it. Had to make it obvious, more for Rustyy than Wyn.:: Foster: ::He tinged a bit darker blue:: Yep, that’s me. I’m a doctor. But please, let’s not become emergency beam ins. ::he decided to get them a second round of water…:: Hael: Nah… ::out of the blue.:: Wha’ be tha’ there gal’s name? From tha’ ship? ::Stop, pause, the glass nearly slipped from his hand.:: Foster: Gwen. Gwen Gardener. ::He drank the rest of his drink.:: Hael: ::he snorted, not realizing the nerve he had touched by asking.:: Terrible name… No wonder she was crazy. Foster: ::Pause. Pause. He put his head back and started to laugh. He laughed and laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks.:: I never… never knew… a name… made ya crazy… ::He stumbled up to stand near Wyn. Big eyes looking at the Andorian like he had grown tentacles or something. Well… Quick look to the antenna.. He thought he had broken the doctor. How would he explain that to the boss ladies?!? He sounded like he was laughing - but there were obviously tears.:: Hael: Well’s yea’ ::he started unsure.:: Ain’ ya ever heard the song “A Boy Name Sue” ? ::he brought his face close to Wyn.:: Why is’ya cryin’? Foster: Cause it’s… funny? ::He pause, coughed and wiped his face, trying to compose himself.:: Anyways, the song… sorta. I mean I grew up on Earth, but didn’t listen to every song, yanno. ::Pause, drink:: I know Sue’s a girl’s name. But so is Gwen. Hael: Song be ‘bout a name tha’ wasn’ no good fer the person. ::he moved back a little.:: Just a thing I guess. ::smirking.:: Makes sense to me. Foster: ::He raised his glass in a toast:: Well then that’s good enough for me. Hael: Was she yer only one? ::that goldfish brain was in overdrive as the booze made the room hazzy.:: Foster: Oh, hell no. I had plenty of girls at the Academy. ::he shrugged:: It was easier back then, we were young and frisky and stupid. Hael: ::plopped down in his seat with a huff.:: Easy, eh? Foster: ::A shrug:: You know - help them with their homework and then they say “thank you!’ and you get pizza and snog. Hael: Pft! Ya’know, I got turned down by just ‘bout ev’ry one, try’na find them ones. And the ones I *did* get with, I nev’r finished. ::he snorted and shook his head.:: Foster: ::He tipped his head a little:: Seriously? But you’re a nice guy… thought you’d be a shoe-in. ::pause:: Why did you never finish? Hael ::he was feeling a lot more open than normal.: Cause I passed out or they had a third leg, which I weren’t expectin’ an it weren’t like what you and I - ::he paused. He had no idea if they were similar below the waist. He said it a little more gently.:: Like wha’ I had. ::he looked at Wyn coyly.:: Like I’m pretty sure there was teeth or somethin’ down there. So I would leave… To keep myself safe. Foster: ::That prompted both snowy brows to drunkenly hike upwards:: Teeth?! Who were you dating?! Hael: ::shrugged.:: Good question… :: he bobbed his head.:: I’s gots zero idea. ::deadpan.:: Foster: ::He waggled a finger at Rustyy:: And this is why Biology 101 is an important class for everyone. Hael: Eh, tha’ be wha’ yer fer. ::gulp, the closer to the bottom of the bottle the more the burn.:: Plus, wha’ few things I did take fer ::he waved his hands.:: stuff I didn’ understand none. Ya’ll have a lingo that goes ::he made a swishing motion over his head.:: clear over me head. Foster: Well, lesson one: Teeth are bad, unless they’re in a mouth… ::he smirked wildly:: Hael: ::both eyebrows, straight up.:: Yeah…. Foster: ::He leaned over and poked Rustyy with a finger:: So you’re telling me you never had a girl?? Fer serious? ::Oh, great now he was drunk enough to talk like Rustyy…:: Hael: Uh… ::fifty shades of red.:: I don’ … None’s I ‘member.. But I had to see a doc a time or two so I know’s somethin’ happened. ::duckface. He recovered best he could.:: ::Wyn looked incredulous, both antennae curled forward, he palmed his face:: Foster: Rustyy! You’re supposed to remember things like this! How could you forget?! ::He froze. Usually he wasn’t so bad about things. But in his more intoxicated funk, he was worse than normal. He stared at the moving things on top Wyn’s head like a dog did a squirrel:: Hael: ::Utterly serious.:: Can I’s’a touch’em? ::he leaned in close to Wyn’s face, rather fixated on the top of Wyn’s head.:: ::Wyn was rather drunk so it took him a half a second to realize what Rustyy was talking about. Unfortunately the second he did realize the reaction was immediate and dramatic.:: Foster: No! ::The word ripped from his throat like a raw curse as he pulled back like a man bitten, eyes wide, pressing himself in the far corner against the cushions.:: Hael: ::turning instantly pale and regretting what he had just ask. He put his hands up.:: Sorry! I,::he jumped up and stepped back, but the lower table caught him just enough to send him toppling over onto his bum.:: uh… I -I -I didn’ mean nuffin’ by it… I’s’a sorry! ::Wyn stopped, dead, and suddenly pitched forward, as if realizing where he was and what was going on.:: Foster: Oh crap... Are you OK? You didn’t break anything did you? ::He took in a shallow breath:: I mean, I’m sorry, it’s fine… I mean it’s not, but it is… ::He shook his head, words failed.:: Hael: ::keeping some distance between them.:: I’m fine. ::he sat on the floor rather than continue to be sprawled out.:: I didn’ mean ::his bottom jutted out slightly. He chewed his own butt for being the way he was. Not that he knew how to be anyone else.:; I shouldn’ have done asked tha’ ::shrugged.:: I’m’a really sorry’s. ::he looked at the floor.:: Now I’s’a buzz kill. ::he huffed a chuckle.:: ::Wyn frowned, his shoulders collapsing into his chest, shrinking away a little.:: Foster: No, you’re not… I’m sorry… ::He waffled in his words, pain and drunkenness swirling together in a fuzzy mixture.:: It’s just… I had one ripped off in a fight once. It’s… it’s hard to not panic… I mean… ::he sighed, it wasn’t making much sense.:: ::Don’t panic. Breathe. Don’t panic. Wyn admitted if it was anyone else in his room he would be panicking far more; but the puppy dog eyes Rustyy kept making were talking Wyn down from a full on attack. The booze was helping, too. He hated to admit it, but being drunk made the attacks go away. That was a dangerous seductress lingering around his brain, one he didn’t want to dwell on too heavily.:: Hael: ::as honest as he could be through slightly gritted teeth.:: I’s’a know’s… ::he looked at when through glazed over eyes.:: I ain’ called someone friend since I was lil’... So I know I ain’ no good with this. It done been a while. But i really likes ya, an’ I don’ wanna… ::he stared at the floor.:: Can we’s backtrack to *before’s* I asked? Foster: You don’t need to. ::He spoke gently, in the way one who was a good listener would speak. It was one of those hidden talents that he had - one that made him a good doctor, but one he usually hid under a calloused exterior:: I mean… I’m not mad, because it’s you. You’re not the people from the past, you’re Rustyy. And I like Rustyy. He’s my friend. ::A small shrug:: Besides, I’m not really one much for regrets. Hael: ::sheepish smile.:: I is yer friend. ::it was only then he realized that he had spilled all down his front, on his shirt and pants..:: Uh-oh… ::boyish smile.:: I’s’a wasted perfectly good booze. Can I’s’a gets a towel? Foster: ::He perked one snowy brow:: I think that’s called alcohol abuse… ::Staggering upwards to fish for a towel. How long had it been since they started drinking? How much had they drank? Ugh, it was all blurring together.:: Here… ::He tossed the towel haphazardly at Rustyy, which landed like a sheet half covering his head.:: Hael: ::he fought between smirking and trying to be serious.:: How’s I look? Foster: ::laughing a little:: Looks, uh… good on you. Hael: ::he pulled the towel off and began dabbing himself off.:: You don’ think the booze will sue, do ya’s? Foster: ::sounds oh-so-academic about it:: Probably not. I think you’re safe. Hael: ::standing up.:: ‘Nutter round? ::Both antennae flickered upwards:: Foster: If we’ve already talked about this much stuff, what on earth will we talk about if we drink another round. ::he asked skeptically. They were getting dangerously into the ‘drunk enough to share the things one usually didn’t talk about’ stage. Heck they had already reached it.:: Hael: Well’s, could always get’s worse chats ::he smirked as he took a seat closer to Wyn.:: Or weirds Foster: Really? ::he canted his head to one side like a confused puppy dog:: Like how? Hael: Could talk ‘bout *love* which be kin’a different than datin’... ::huffing.:: ~Love~ Foster: Love… ::He scoffed a little:: I don’t know about love… ::Both antennae waggled a bit:: I mean… love is tough, right? Love is a big step… ::yep, now he was babbling.:: Hael: ::both eyebrows raised up slightly as he eyed his friend.:: Yea’ it is.... Maybe… I fell’s in love with an actress once… ::nodded assuredly.:: but I was just a kiddie. ::he smirked.:: Foster: Really? ::both snowy brows perked before the most natural question ever slipped out:: Who? Hael: ::without missing a beat.:: Audrey Hepburn. ::smile innocently.:: Purdy sure she was me first. ::wink.:: at least that there one I ‘member. ::smirk.:: Foster: ::he snickered into his cup:: She’s not real! She’s been dead for like centuries! So i’m not sure that’s love. ::He shook his head slowly:: More like a crush. ::Pause, he looked up:: How’d you find Audrey Hepburn anyways? Hael: Well’s tha’n be wha’ I get fer watchin’ all them ol’ movies.. ::snicker.:: Wha’ ‘bout you? Foster: Kinda ::he shrugged, leaning back, his eyes gazing far off out the window.:: Hael: Ah come’ons, i’s’a told’ya mine. ::he pleaded.:: Foster: ::He gave a sigh, turning slightly navy:: Oh, fine. So before I went to Earth with dad, we were on a starship. The USS Augury - it was a big ship. ::Thinking, one antennae [...]ed downwards:: Akira class - big well armed sucker. And, well, my Dad’s boss was the first officer - who was a former medical officer. I guess they had a long history together, anyways, he was the scariest guy I ever met… Hael: Oh’s? Big ol’ cat, eh? ::he smirked leaning in to the story.:: Foster: ::He took a long drink, leaning over:: No, he was small - like only a few centimeters taller than me; and thin… but he had this way of staring you down with eyes that looked like they had seen hell and come through swinging… ::he shuddered a little, even now, thinking about it.:: Anyways, he was an Andorian. One of the few I ever met who would talk to me. Super soft spoken guy, and again - you would think that wouldn’t be scary but it was. ::Another drink, he shook his head:: But he has this daughter. Who is way older than me… and hot. Man was she hot. ::Thinking:: I’m pretty sure she’s still hot. Hael: ::winking.:: Well’s you ev’r get with her? Foster: Well for one ::He ticked off on his spindly fingers:: She’s about ten years older than me and two, as I said, her Dad is suuuuper scary. And three, she thought I was a jerk. ::Thinking:: Probably still does. Hael: Aww, ::he lightly pawed at Wyns shoulder.:: Was you the type to pull girlies hairs ‘cause you liked’em? Foster: ::A thoroughly impish look crossed his face:: Maaaybe… ::A dreamy look crossed his face:: She had this long wavy white hair, and big sapphire eyes… ::Leaning back. His childhood friend was about as opposite to Liani as possible - and Liani was the only other female Andorian who had ever given him the time of day. Other humanoid ladies were lovely, but he admitted he dreamt in shades of blue and white.:: And pale blue skin. Northerner… so she said. ::He shrugged:: Never been to the northern plains of Andor, but man, if her family was representative I’d have to say they have scary guys and lovely girls. Hael: She must’a been purdy special to have you lookin’ like a newborn babe on a summer morn’n… ::he flashed a wide smile.:: You ain’ *never* tried to get with her? Even later on.. ::he pried.:: Foster: Eh… I went to Earth, she stayed on the Augury, and I was an awkward high school kid when she was in the academy. I didn’t have a chance. And once I was well on my way to becoming a smooth medical genius, she was already halfway across the stars. Operations and Command division. ::he shrugged:: Last I checked she was on the USS Armstrong-C. ::He looked over with a gaze of innocence that clearly said ‘not that I ever check this or anything.:: Hael: Ah, well. ::shaking his head. He looked at his nearly empty glass:: Women’s, for all we love’em, ::sigh.:: they don’ seem to notice… ::That prompted Wyn to chuckle a little.:: Foster: In my experience, man or woman - few people notice. That’s why when you find someone who does care you cherish them forever. ::Did he just admit that? Whoops… he must really be drunk.:: Hael: ::raising his glass.:: To the folks, friends or lovers, let’em be good fer each other. ::or something like that… He was so drunk, he was having slight issue understanding himself. He patted Wyn on the leg, it was a ways away from his head.:: Foster: I’ll drink to that. ::He raised his glass, toasted, and then some brilliance of higher brainpower decided that, yes. He should be the responsible person and cork the alcohol and get another round of water…:: Hael: ::he watched the bottle being closed off.:: Aww. ::he pouted.:: Should I’s’a take it I’m’a gettin’da boot too’s? ::he'd seen it enough times to get the hint.:: Foster: No! ::Said a bit too fast:: I never said you had to leave… just that I don’t want you to puke is all. ::Big wide innocent eyes. It could happen. Actually he was startlingly good at the so-called ‘puppy dog eyes’ when he put his mind to it.:: Hael: ::nodding.:: Make’s’s sense’s… ::looking into Wyn’s eyes.:: You’ve’s got’s them bluest eyes I’ves ever done seen, you know’s that. ::he said leaning in further.:: Like them’s lakes’s durin’ first thaw. ::he pulled at his shirt some, was it just him or was it warm. Of course he was pretty convinced StarFleet uniforms were self heaters.:: ::Wyn stopped. He just… froze. Even his antennae froze eyes going a bit wider. How drunk was Rustyy? How drunk was Wyn? Did he mishear that? That was usually the sort of things that he said to girls because he wanted them to come home with him. Or at least he used to say to girls when he was young(er) and stupid(er). Then again it usually worked with the ladies he had tried it on and now he knew why. Flattery was somehow enticing. Warming. It fluffed the ego that lay deep inside one’s chest and made the heart flutter a little. Wait. Rustyy. Drunk Rustyy. Then again drunk Rustyy was pretty adorable. And Andorians traditionally married in groups of four. He started wondering is Rustyy would be amenable to finding two women… did he really just think that about Rustyy?! How drunk was he?:: Foster: ::Flushing deeply navy:: Uhm, thanks… ::A pause, and finally his laughter broke the silence:: You’re drunk! Hael: ::He said what he meant, and he meant what he said… At least he thought so. He liked this moment, this time spent. Now he just wished it would be more than a blurry memory.:: Uhh… So’s is you’s! ::he pointed and chuckled.:: Foster: Well, at least you’re poetic when you’re drunk! Hael: Ahhh… Pft… ::maroon colored.:: Wha’ i say’s don’ rhyme none. ::he grinned and shook his head, watching the blue hues darken. Blues was always a pleasing color to look at. It was that, white or black back home.:: Jus’ how many’s shades’s of blue can you’s turn? Foster: ::He narrowed his brows, and in the next second he quickly proved that alcohol could not dull his ability to quip:: Not as many shades of red as you can turn... Hael: ::he could feel the heat emanating from his cheeks.:: I’m’a not red. ::he duckfaced pouted. He tried to take sip of water to cool down.:: Foster: And wet targs smell like roses. ::He chuckled, reaching for his own glass of water:: Hael: ::submitting.:: Wha’ ev’rs… ::even more blood to his head..:: It done jus’ go’ real’y hot’s in ‘ere… Tha’s all… Tha’n be why I red… ish. Foster: Hot?! ::He sputtered in his glass a little before waving his arms and antennae in unison:: You realize you’re in my quarters?! Quarters of someone who is from a planet that is a ball of ice?! Quarters that others constantly complain are too cold… I mean I could turn the heat down further if you fancy it … but hot? ::Blink blink…:: Hael: ::puppy dog innocence.:: Well’s… I feel’s warm… ::he pulled at his collar:: My’s room ain’ no better’s ::he chuckled.:: Alway’s’s to cold fer others… ::thoughtfully.:: Maybe’s tha’n be why no one ev’r stays… Foster: I’d stay. ::he nodded in drunken assent.:: ::That came out wrong. Or right. This conversation was going downhill and Wyn was not only incapable of stopping it - he was pretty sure he didn’t want to stop it either.:: Hael: ::hopeful smile.:: Would’ya’s? ::playfully.:: Even’s sober? ::Because it, he, would be nice to remember. Even if it was just once. He could feel his face turn flush yet again… But just as others before - this would be just another chance for him to face plant. Even drunk he hoped not.:: Foster: Well, depends on what we were doing… ::Those antennae waggled back and forth in a quite interesting manner.:: Hael: I’d take ya’s fer ‘ride ‘course. :: He meant the car he had gotten from the past. Right? His brain was getting more fuzzy and not only from the booze. All he could do was smile sheepishly.:: ‘Course you’s could’s drive too’s if’n ya wanna. ::Blink blink. Blink blink blink. Did ride and drive mean what he think they meant? Was that drunken innuendo? Then again Rustyy was a gear head…:: Foster: … ride? ::Both snowy brows perked, his cheek flushing navy without his brain’s permission.:: Like… what kind of ride? Hael: ::perking up.:: in me auto-mobile from 1912 ‘course! I’s’a just put’in a new carb. So she’s’a purry mighty nicely… ::he looked eagerly at Wyn.:: Foster: ::Flushing darker navy:: Ooooohhhhh! ::Pause.:: Well, I’m sorta drunk right now and I think I would puke. But maybe tomorrow after a greasy breakfast? ::Rustyy bobbed his head repeatedly and regretted it instantly when he turned from red to green in a matter of precious few seconds. He set his drinks down so’s not to spill - again - and tried to stabilize himself.:: Hael: ::frowning.:: Wha’ time be’s? ::he looked around for a clock.:: Foster: I dunno... it’s late enough that I’m sleepy, and the delicious booze didn’t help, but I’m too wound up from conversating ::great grammar there, Wyn:: to sleep. ::he shrugged:: In my academy days we’d play stupid games or watch dumb holovids. Hael: ::[...]ing his head at Wyn.:: I’m’a throw’ups if’n we play games. ::apologetic smile.:: Foster: Ok, ok, no games! ::he put his hands up as if to prevent any unnecessary upchucking.:: Holovids it is! Hael: ::smirking.:: We’s’a can watch “Breakfast at Tiff’s”. ::he stuck his tongue out slightly and bit down on it, trying not to laugh. Innocently enough.:: Wha’? ::broad smile.:: Foster: ::both snowy brows hiked sky high:: Isn’t that a girly-film? Hael: Uh… Well… oO Yea’. Oo I’s’a guess it - I mean’s it’s purdy macho. ::Wyn shook his head. He didn’t rightly know what constituted a ‘macho’ film since he had never been in the ‘macho’ crowd. He had always been an outsider. He wondered if there was a movie for that.:: Foster: Ok, what about films for weirdos? Not chick-flicks, not testosterone and muscles. Films for people like us… Hael: ::[...]ing his head and looking over his shoulder.:: X-Men. ::serious as a clam.:: Foster: What-men? That sounds like a porno… ::He remarked with his usually crassness:: What’s it about? Hael: Well’s… There blue folks in’it… An’ them an’ others fight crime ev’n though no one thanks them fer it. ::he smiled, knowing that was something they both dealt with. A lot of people appreciated it and some overlooked all the work put into keep machines and people in one piece.:: Foster: Huh. ::He canted his head to one side, thinking about that. Sounded, actually, like something he’s be into.:: No crap, huh? ::Taking another long drink.:: I would watch it. Hael: ::eager.:: Real’y? ::sliding down to sit on the floor. Sitting in the soft beanbag like seat was too much work.:: You be thinkin’ we gonna be able to see’s it all? Foster: No, with as much stuff as we just drank we’ll probably get about ten minutes in and fall asleep. But I’m OK with that, too. Hael: You know’s how long it been since I done did a sleep ov’r? ::smirking.:: Ferever, an’ we built a fort. ::his brown eyes pleaded.:: Foster: A... sleep… over? ::He blinked. How drunk was he?:: What’s that? ::Rustyy opened his mouth... Closed it... And mentally reached for the fuzziness that was once his happy, loopy, ridiculous drunken stupor. He was rather fond of that state. It made the universe seem less feeble, happy go lucky rainbow and unicorn lands. Though words continued to evade him. How to explain a sleep over. Well... It's what kids did! Not that the two were classifiable children, but they could act it all they wanted. Instead of the hazy booze thoughts, it was a blurry, tear ridden long forgotten memories pushing forward. Nope, he wasn't okay with that. The hiccup in his breath and the puffy eyes took more than a slight shake of the head to get under control.:: Hael: Um… ::murmuring.:: What kiddies do when they be hangin’ out late with friends… Just, ::he looked up and shrugged.:: This. Foster: In my experience a sleep-over either meant grade schoolers or ::cough:: ladyfolk. ::cough.:: Hael: ::boyish smirk.:: Well’s ::groaning as he attempted to stand up.:: If’n’a ya ain’ alrighty with’it, I’s’a better be - Foster: ::Drunkenly fast, that sort of odd desperation one has when they don’t want to lose their company:: No, no! I’m OK with it… Hael: ::sigh of relief for two reasons. One he didn't have the strength to get up.:: Well I’s’a been told I snore like a caveman. ::two, he was worried if he left, he would wake up and it all would have been a dream, trick of the mind that made him deal with the past..:: Foster: You snore? ::His antennae twitched. His Dad snored, too. He remembered listening for it late at night when they were on Earth.:: Hael: ::he gave a genuine laugh.:: Well you can always hit me till i’s’a shuts up. Foster: ::A ghost of some sort of strange fear clouded his vision.:: No. I would never hit you. ::Said all too fast.:: Hael: It ain’ no thang. ::he smirked, remembering all the stories from when he was younger.:: Not like it’a hurt me none. Foster: ::He shrugged, passing it off:: I mean, why hit you? What good would that do? Besides, I’m a medical genius. I could figure something out. Hael: ::shrug.:: eh, my mama and pa use ya do it, wakes me up ‘nough to make me stops. ::his brain rewound slightly.:: I’s’a don’ think fig’r’in’ somethin’ this late be such a good idea. ::chucked.:: Foster: No… ::He shook his head, as if clearing away cobwebs… or ghosts:: I don’t hit people unless they absolutely deserve it. I’m sure we can find another way. Hael: I’s’a guess ::long big yawn.:: we’s can deal with it when we gets there. Let's get that there movie started, eh. ::he smirked. He would be passed out before the previews were over at this rate.:: ::Right. Wyn offered a light nod, wandering towards the computer which compliantly flashed a nice menu up on the blank wall. He honestly had never tried this before. Watching movies was a curiously old fashioned thing. But, sure enough, the computer was all too happy to comply.:: Foster: Right. ::He blinked:: You know there’s like twenty of these things - and about half a dozen cartoons. How big was this? Hael: ::childish, geeky grin as he bobbed his head.:: Yuppers, only the best a finest. ::he wiggled down to rest his head on the pillow like seat and face the screen, his eyelids got very heavy suddenly.:: Foster: Figures. ::He chose the one that seemed to be the first and tapped play.:: I admit I’m not sure how long I’ll stay awake for. Hael: Mmmhmm. ::he wrapped his arms across his chest and crossed his legs. His head jerking up ever few seconds…. Blink blink. He patted the floor next to him.:: com’on’dow’s’ere… ::Wyn paused, freezing for a few seconds before sliding down beside Rustyy in the way brothers snuggle up to one another on a cold night where the heater’s broken. Man he was drunk. Didn’t matter. Felt good. Like some sort of home he didn’t have.:: Foster: Hmmm, ok. ::Relaxing into a cat-like puddle:: How many brothers you say you had? Hael: ::grunt.:: Four’of’em… An’ ::he held up two fingers.:: two sissies. ::sleeping close to someone was like home, snuggling to stay warm in the living room of their house.:. Foster: Thats… that’s a lotta ‘em. Hael: Yep… You’d like’em, should meet’em ::he eyed Wyn from the corner of a drooping eye.:: Though, you’s migh’ not like bein’trap’d with’em all. Foster: Don’t know. ::He shrugged lightly, head drooping:: Guess Andorians have big families, too… never tried it. Might like it. Hael: ::nodding, he turned on his side and hid his face, the movie long forgotten.:: Mmm, g’nigh’. Foster: ::Movie? What movie? Mmmm, sleep. He hadn’t slept well in days, but finally tonight sleep was coming easily.:: Good night… ::Who knew what tomorrow would bring, but for the night, sleep was sweet…:: ~*~ A JP by: Lieutenant Commander Rustyy Hael Chief Engineer USS Constitution A239202RH0 ~and~ Lt Commander Shar’Wyn Foster Chief Medical Officer USS Constitution-B
  17. ((Chez Georgio, USS Constitution-B)) Georgio: ::grinning brightly:: Oh, him! Red hair, beard, ugly uniform. I'd love to get my hands on that one. So many possibilities! ::Truth be told, Kael thought it was an ugly beard, too. But she didn't feeling ripping on her dad today. She simply smiled.:: Wilmer: So is there anything special I have to do to maintain this look? Georgio: You can do this yourself at home. Use some mousse spread it in both palms and then just run your fingers through it and play around. You can have it as wild or tame as you like. The gloriousness is that it looks high maintenance while it is really simple. ::He winked at her.:: Wilmer. Awesome! Georgio: Magnificent. You're only missing some sparkles and you'd be visited by dozens of leprechauns a day looking for their gold. ::He had heard about that from another crew-member during his make over and found that quite charming.:: Look look. ::He gestured to the big mirror on the wall:: ::Kael walked over to the giant reflection panel and took herself in. The hologram did good work. She was impressed.:: Wilmer: Kickin'! :: She giggled in childlike glee. It was something that she rarely did, but when she did it, it was always genuine.:: Georgio: Now listen, darling. This is a work of art. Georgio is possessive of his work and no other should lay hand on it. So when you want to refresh the colors, you come to auntie Georgio. Clear? ::She saluted him.:: Wilmer: Yes ma'am~! Georgio: Fabulous. Now hop on, little dumpling and show your dad. He'll fall in love with it, I'm sure. ::Kael was about to respond, when her commbadge went off.:: N. Wilmer: =/\= Cmdr. Wilmer to Cadet Wilmer, come in please. =/\= ::Kael was confused, but tapped her badge.:: oO How could he already know about my hair? Oo ::She wondered.:: Wilmer: =/\= Go ahead, dad.... =/\= N. Wilmer: =/\= Could you report to our quarters? I have something very important to tell you. =/\= ::She couldn't even respond before he closed the comm. That was a bad sign. Her father only forgot pleasantries when the news was bad. Kael looked concerned as she made double time to their quarters.:: ((TImeskip, exactly one hour, outside the academy classroom)) ::It was horrible, it was terrible. The Delta Quadrant? What was he thinking? Why had he accepted that post aboard the Darwin?? She would have to leave everyone again. First her mother disappeared and she had to leave the Morningstar. Then the Apollo was decommissioned. Now they were leaving the Constitution for the Darwin??:: ::She wondered if she would ever have a home that was permanent.:: ::But before she left she had one more person to see, one last goodbye. She ran at breakneck speed from her quarters. She had to do something, had to say something before leaving. It felt like she was always leaving without saying proper goodbyes. But not this time. This time she was going to do it right. This time she was going to say how she felt.:: ::Before long she was waiting outside the instruction room for academy training. She was the first one there, as she had hoped. She needed to catch him, but make time back to the shuttle bay before they were to depart. Her father had given her just enough time to say what she had to say. She didn't want him to have to call and remind her.:: ::It was then that Oz walked up.:: ::Kael sprinted over to him, as he came from half way down the empty corridor. She placed her index finger on his lips and stopped him from asking the next obvious question.:: Wilmer: Look Oz. Don't talk. Listen.... ::She paused, somewhat out of breath.:: Wilmer: I swear if you say anything I'll lose my never, y'dig? ::She removed her finger.:: My dad accepted a new job in the Delta Quadrant. I guess he's mission specialist or something, on the USS Darwin. And I have to go with him. I don't want to, I want to stay. I love everybody on the Constitution. I love... ::She stopped herself. Edited herself, and then continued.:: Wilmer: You come and see me if you have a free semester between academy years, okay? And there's always subspace communication through the MIDAS array. That's better than nothing..... ::She leaned in, jumping up on tippy toes and kissed him full on the lips. It was her first. She had no boyfriend, ever. She often expressed no affection. But Oz deserved to know that he was less annoying than all the other boys.:: ::She blushed in total embarrassment. And then, in true Kael fashion, she placed her favorite mask of boredom back on her face, and gave a two fingered twitch of the hand.:: Wilmer: C'ya round, dork... ::And she punched him in the shoulder. She would leave him no time to say goodbye. That would have been too hard. But that was the way she did things. That was the way she liked it. Anything else would have been not her, somehow.:: ::She would see that boy again. She knew it.:: ~Not the End~ ((OOC - this will be my last sim aboard the Constitution. I have really enjoyed simming with everyone. And I will miss your writing Jess. You have been an awesome Captain, and I owe my growth as a writer to your excellent examples. See you all around the galaxy!)) Cadet Kael Wilmer As simmed by the lovely Lt. Cmdr. Nate Wilmer HCO USS Constitution-B E239107NW0
  18. ((Flashback - Three Days Before Quikz's 26th Birthday)) ((Santo Domingo Church, Granada, Andalusia Provence, Spain, Earth)) ::Santo Domingo Church rose high above the Santeen family and their loved ones, but even its vaulted ceilings, gilded fixtures, and touches reminiscent of the beauty and expansion of the Renaissance period, could not contain the entirety of their immense grief. Indeed, their pain was a sackcloth garment which seemed to cling about their necks and constrict the very hope in their lungs with a vice-like precision that was every bit as cruel as it was unrelenting.:: ::Quikz clung to his mother Helena and his remaining sister Rosemary amid a stunned silence which was accentuated by the staccato drops of their tears boiling down their cheeks. His mother was veiled in black and was adorned not only by the breaking of her heart for her deceased child but by the splendor of her beauty, which not even her lamenting could arrest from her visage. Rosemary, being only 19, trembled young and fresh-faced as she wept openly, the slick of tears wetting her face, only to eventually bury themselves into the collar of her funeral dress.:: ::The priest offered prayers and words of comfort to the mourners, yet even as Quikz stood beside Esmer's coffin, those words felt just as hollow and devoid of life as he now realized his sister's body was, having been reduced to merely a brittle husk and shell of her former self. When the priest spoke of life beyond death, of promises divine and of pleasure in the face of pain, the words seemed to catch in his innards, rattling around within the go-betweens of his ribs and chest, like bits of bone too soon swallowed, too soon felt.:: ::He simply couldn't breathe.:: ::He was angry, hurt, and confused - a thousand emotions colliding and clamoring over each other all in the singular effort to somehow burst the dam of his soul into a moaning wail which he suspected could easily shatter himself, just as much as what remained of his entire universe. Yet, it was his outward silence and stoicism broken only by the slight tremor in his upper lip which Quikz allowed the world to see. He would be the face of the Santeen family. He would be the rock for his mother and sister which kept their feet from sinking any further into this ever-widening pit of despair::: Santeen: oOI shall be strong for them. I shall be what my father cannot be. I shall be the man that they need, this I truly swear.Oo ((After the Ceremony, Santeen Family Cemetary, Santeen Estate, on the borders of the Granadine Countryside)) ::After the ceremony at Santo Domingo, Quikz had been one of the pallbearers to carry his youngest sister's small coffin. Other than a few cousins and uncles and a close family friend who helped shoulder the load, he was the sole representative of his immediate family to guide Esmer's remains on her journey to her final resting place.:: ::His father had not been in attendance, not at the church service, nor even at the graveside of his own daughter's funeral. Instead, Quikz was certain he was stumbling and wallowing around in his study in a drunken stupor, trying to drown the demons of his life by virtue of strong spirits of his own choosing, which he found decidedly easier to swallow than his own pride and guilt.: ::At the moment it was Quikz's seething anger and unabated loathing of the man that had sired him, that kept him from collapsing fully into the throughs of despair. It was hard to believe he was only days away from turning 26, a man in his own right, and yet he couldn't help but still feel the weight of his father's toxic pull in his life. To think he had spent so much time, wasted so much effort trying to live up to the expectations of his father, while yet the man himself was the epitome of everything that Quikz desperately hated and yearned to escape from in life.::: ::Esmer's grave had been dug, as generations of his family before had been, by hand. He himself had underseen the task, and as such, he himself would be the one to bury her today. It was not that there weren't many willing to help. They had a large extended family and were of course well known in the community. Also, if truth be told, they very easily possessed the money and means to have hired as many hands to do the work as they desired. But Quikz had insisted that he would do it, alone. And by the fire found in his eyes, no one, not even his father would dare talk him out of such a solemn task:: ::After the remaining family and friends had paid their final respects and parted, he stood for a few moments with his mother and Rosemary, looking down into the gravesite. For one moment, time stood still, as the three of them huddle around her resting place, speaking with words wrapped in silence but which broke the heavens with the thunderous fists of their grief.:: ::Finally, he picked up the shovel, and Rosemary began the walk back to the house. His mother seemed to focus for a moment on a point outward beyond her pain and even beyond her son. Then, Helena Santeen, the inwardly shattered matriarch of this already shaky dynasty, reached out and touched her son's cheek with her delicate mature palm. Neither mother or son spoke, nor would they ever know how long they stood there like that, but through that one touch came the transferance of strength that they both desperately needed to share.:: ::With that she parted, allowing Quikz to busy himself in the fury and pain that would be his work. Always his work. Striving. Fighting. Trying. Pushing himself to new limits, breaking his back by way of the sweat of his brow. For in this manner and in this manner alone did he ever seem to find his own means of personal salvation. Only in his breaking down, and rising again from the dust, did he ever find his resurrection. This was a truth known to mother and son, a truth known to them both only all too well.:: --------------------------------------- Ensign Quikz Santeen Security Officer USS Darwin, NCC-99312-A A238805Z10
  19. ((USS Darwin, Deck 7, Santeen's Shared Crew Quarters)) ::As Quikz stood just outside the door that his PADD indicated was where his shared quarters was, he couldn't help but wonder just what his new roommate would be like. All his PADD had indicated was basic information such as deck and room number, and the single name of his roommate: Ensign Christopher Lambert who was listed as being a Science Officer aboard the Darwin. Though with his new security clearances he could probably find out even a bit more preliminary information about him, he decided on this occasion he wished to be (hopefully) pleasantly surprised.:: Santeen: oOBesides, what is the purpose of spoiling all the mysteries for yourself on the first day aboard? There is something to be said, surely, about taking things as they come and in stride?Oo ::Nodding to himself, he depressed the door chime, just in case his roommate was actually in the room or in the middle of something. He had learned long ago, especially in his academy days that just because there was always the illusion of decorum and procedure, didn't mean that people weren't people - everyone enjoyed their privacy one way or another.:: Santeen: oOBesides, it's not like there are door knobs to hang socks from like in ages past.Oo ::Cringing to himself, he remembered just how it was quite a common problem for many cadets at the Academy, and how on a number of occasions he had wished that practice were still...well...a practice. In fact, there was that one very awkward moment he had accidently walked in on his friend, William "Buck" Wellington and that Orion bartender, only to discover to both his horror and laughter that maybe they needed a new nickname for the young cadet after all.:: ::After waiting several moments, he entered the room and took in his surroundings. He already saw the tell-tale signs that indeed another Male ensign lived here. Judging by the few mementos and bric-a-brac he saw here and there, he was sure that he was more than likely human. Other than that, he did not try to intrude in any real way on his new roommate's privacy. There would be plenty of time for them to get to know each other in the future.:: ::Turning to the bunks in the opposite wall, he saw his belongings had already been placed on his upper bunk. There wasn't much, indeed he had always traveled rather lightly. Maybe it was all his years spent as a sprinter and cross country runner and athlete, but he usually preferred only to have on his person those things most essential to him at any given moment. If he truly needed something, he would seek it out. If he couldn't attain it with the true sweat and determination of his most concerted effort, he had had long ago learned he could simply go without it.:: ::Picking up the PADD that lay next to his belongings, he quickly scanned it to make sure his correct items were on the manifest, and having confirmed, he set it aside. Taking a deep breath, he pulled his leather rucksack off the bed and sat down at the small dining table and began sorting his few belongings. Of his few possessions he had brought with him, there was a handful which were most significant to him, and which always brought about a wave of emotions and memories welling up from the fount of his heart and into the spray of his mind.: ::As he pulled them out one by one, Quikz reflected on them, as he had each time he had come to a new place on his long journey to where he was now.:: ::The most cumbersome and self-explanatory, even if somewhat out of sorts for the clean lines and necessary sanitation of a Federation Ship, was a dust-covered pair of worn cross trainers. Though muddy, the cross trainers were worn not from neglect, but from use. They were stained with the dirt of achievement and grit; they were emblazoned with the signs of sweat, blood, and determination which had taken him all across his homeland in competition after competition in search of proving himself to all, especially his father.:: ::Closing his eyes for the briefest of moments, he still could feel the give of the treads beneath his feet, the thunder of his heart as it leaped like an antelope in his chest, the shout of the crowds and his family as it urged him onward. Yet above all, he still could feel those piercing eyes and the quiet brewing presence of Otto Santeen and the immense silence with which his father could shake the heavens above and rattle his earthly dreams below.:: ::Setting the shoes aside, he took a deep breath and withdrew another couple items from his bag One was a well worn, highlighted, dog-eared copy of The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. Though most books these days were unanimously held on PADDs, this was one of his most prized possessions, not only because it was so rare to have an actual printed book these days, but because it was a special gift given to him by his mother shortly before he had left for his Academy. Opening the inside cover of the book, a paperclip fastener held a picture of his elegant mother suspended just above glittering green swirls of her script which she had inscribed into the book for him::: ========================== Helena Santeen: To My Beloved Son, I give you this book on the start of your journey toward claiming your own personal treasure in life because in so many ways you have been one of the few splendid treasures in my own. Remember Quikzal, just as this book says so elegantly: "Courage is the quality most essential to understanding the Language of the World...When a person really desires something, all the universe conspires to help that person to realize his dream." Therefore, may you always have courage in life, but most importantly, may you always know how deeply you are loved. Love Always, Your Mother ========================== ::As he read those words, he touched his mother's picture, almost in the same way she had touched his own face many years ago, comforting him as he prepared to leave their Spanish villa and set out to make his way in the world. His cheek flushed and felt warm to the touch as if he could still feel her hand upon him, but soon he realized it was because of a single tear that had burned a trail down his face.:: ::Also inside the book was a letter from his sister Rosemary, which he had received right in the middle of his Academy days. He had read it many times before, but for now, he did not have the heart in him to read it. It spoke of love, and loss, the laughter and joy of their youth, and the haunting pain of the recent past. All things he wasn't privy or willing to allow himself to visit at the current moment.:: ::The only other items, other than basic toiletries and a single change of civilian clothes, was a small acrylic globe with a single dried flower petal suspended to the light, and a thick squat rusty spike that was attached to a long leather cord which could be worn around the neck. These two items alone, where the most weighty to bear on his heart: for one meant the beauty of life, and the other the cruelty of death.:: Santeen: oOAnd sometimes, I'm not exactly sure which one stands for which.Oo --------------------------------------- Ensign Quikz Santeen Security Officer USS Darwin, NCC-99312-A A238805Z10
  20. In appreciation of the important role that each of us do in recognizing our peers' contributions by nominating their sims in the Top Sims Contest, the Captains Council has approved the formation of a new badge - the Top Sim Nominator badge. The Top Sim Nominator badge is presented to an individual who identifies themselves to the Contest facilitator as having nominated a sim in eight discrete rounds during a contest year. Once you have nominated at least one sim in eight separate rounds, contact the Top Sims team facilitator who will verify your contributions. Once this is done, you will be presented with this new badge, which you can display with pride as a champion of recognizing your fellow players. There is no time like the present to work towards earning this badge! Open a new thread in the Top Sims Contest forum and nominate a worthy sim, and remember to return each new Round and nominate again.
  21. ((Adova: Arc's Personal Residence)) :: It was a funny feeling, here she was probably dying and yet she was at peace with it. All her life she had fought, and struggled, and raged against the world to survive on her own terms, to live under her own rules, but now… Now it felt a little bit okay to let go, to just surrender to whatever her fate may be. Maybe she needed to stop fighting for once, and stop trying to control every aspect of her life, even if staying alive was one of those things.:: :: She wasn’t suicidal. She was just tired.:: :: Della had been right. A starship was not a safe place to raise a child -- there had been far too many times T’Sara and Gina had been put in harm’s way. And T’Lea had been wrong – she couldn’t protect any of them. Hell, she couldn’t even protect herself.:: :: So, here she sat on a rather festive tile floor, on some far away planet, in some alien home, drowning slowly in her own blood, and for no other reason than being hated for being a telepath. It almost made her laugh that she was going to die for something so pathetic and meaningless. She’d done plenty of horrific things in her lifetime, things that warranted execution, or at least a long prison sentence – betrayal and murder topped the list. But the crime of being a telepath? Now that was funny.:: Kells: Hold on, T'Lea. Hold on. ::to the others:: We need med tech. Is it all back on Compass? King: I’m going to check the surrounding rooms for any provisions we might need. ::beat:: We’re all dangerously close to being dehydrated. ::beat:: The Compass has most of the provisions and equipment we need but it doesn’t seem like we’ll be able to get to it in the near term. :: Well, that sucked, thought T’Lea as she sat there and did her best to concentrate on her breathing. All that meditation was paying off. She was keeping calm and had slowed her heart rate. If necessary she would put herself in a Vulcan healing trance, but for now she was complacent with other thoughts.:: :: Looking back on things, she couldn’t blame Della for leaving, and she couldn’t hate her for it either. It was never hate that she felt. Anger perhaps, but never hate. The truth was that she would always love that stupid Trill, even if Della didn’t feel the same way. There was simply too much history between them to let their separation, no matter how permanent, ruin what T’Lea still felt, and would always feel for Della.:: :: After all Della had been there when T’Lea had needed her the most, when death was eminent and she needed someone to keep her Katra safe. Della did that for her, and thinking about it now, that was the moment T’Lea had fallen in love with the Trill. The moment she had died.:: ((Flashback)) ((USS CONSTITUTION - T’Lea’s QUARTERS)) :: The pain had quelled, but now there were moments of inconsistent consciousness. A feeling of drifting in and out of life. It was nauseating and confusing. The Vulcan hybrid was dealing with it the best she could -- with logic.:: Vetri: =/\= Vetri to sickbay - medical emergency in Lt. T'Lea's quarters. =/\= ::The call for help made, Della darted to the hybrid's side, dropping to the ground to haul her up into a vaguely sitting position. The Romu-vulc’s body was fairly limp at this point. The only thing keeping her sitting upright was a combination of the wall and the Trill. T’Lea couldn’t distinguish between the two, but her right hand tightly fisted a bunch of fabric from one or the other. T’Lea: Who…? Vetri: ::whispering:: Your cute as hell angel, come to save the day... ::They had an agreement, Vetri would come first when T’Lea called, but medical would be on the way. That left little time. Little time would hopefully be enough so that they could have their private moment together.:: ::Gently, Della brushed the hybrids hair aside, and laid her lips gently against her brow, not bothering to try and hold back the tears that were rolling down her cheeks.:: ::The sudden warmth against her skin rallied T’Lea’s focus. Her vision sharpened in, then out, then in again. She was seeing spots before her eyes.:: T’Lea: ::weak, but surprised:: … Spots, you came…? Vetri: Of course, silly. We had a deal, remember? ::Deal. Her heart looked inward. What deal? At first she didn’t remember, but eventually after some searching, yes, she remembered. T’Lea remembered what they had been working on all this time, all those long nights together training for this moment. A lobotomy would be the only way she could forget those moments with Della, actually she wasn’t far from one. But right now, in a moment of perfect lucidity she was stacking her thoughts in proper order. And with fluid thought came a curiosity. Did Della mean that she was willing to go through with the Katra transfer?:: T’Lea: Are you certain…? Vetri: I'm certain. You're not getting away from me that easily. ::The Romu-vulc’s grateful pale blue eyes slid down the Trill’s delicate face, following a particularly intriguing line of small dark spots. Her mindless gaze ended in a sliver of strength. With her body tensing in Della’s hands, T’Lea moved to sit more upright just as they had practiced during their nightly visits. This had to happen fast, right now or not at all.:: Vetri: ::trying to summon up some humor to keep herself together:: Don't want to rush you or anything, but... ::The hybrid’s right hand flattened against the fabric she’d been clutching all this time. Oddly enough she had no idea where that hand was, or if it was even still attached. The left hand seemed to be easier to find and operate. T’Lea moved closer still, barely holding on to the stoic, regal Vulcan poise as she did so. Another odd moment of brief wonderment over what the Trill was wearing and why her locks of hair were wet, flashed through T’Lea’s dysfunctional head. It was strange how these unimportant thoughts rambled to the forefront of her mind so clearly. The remnant of a Vulcan brow twitched under the stress.:: Vetri: Stay with me, T'Lea. I can't do this on my own. ::Face to face with Vetri, T’Lea tried to stay steady, tried to control her breathing, tried to summon the inner Vulcan to finish this. For the Romulan in T’Lea was nowhere to be found. Like a coward she had stepped away from the situation, unable to confront the emotional humiliation of it all.:: ::Shaking slightly from the frayed nerves, T’Lea reached up with her left hand, failing at first to place it in proper position for a mind-meld. Instead, that hand came to a soft rest on Della’s cheek. The next precious few seconds were spent trying to form her fingers and find the correct points of contact. It was quite possibly the most difficult and most exhausting thing she’d ever done. Finally, it paid off.:: ::Relieved, T’Lea dipped her forehead against Della’s, not for technique but out of her tiresome struggle. Next she tried to set her breathing to match Della’s rise and fall. Della made the change for her, finding T’Lea’s rhythm instead, just as they’d practiced.:: T’Lea: …assist… ::She didn’t even need to say it, it was already done. Della was holding her left hand steady in the proper position, keeping it from slipping. T’Lea blinked her eyes, trying to clear out the fog, but her thoughts strayed again as she felt Della’s invading warmth. It distracted, then enveloped, then penetrated, and then reinforced. It seemed to wash out the pain. The hybrid was starting to see through the haze in her eyes. Logic started to jell into a solid thought. Was Della sending her empathic support? If so it was precise and well controlled. But it was also speeding up her death. T’Lea didn’t know for sure…. She wasn’t sure of anything right now except the meld.:: ::Drawing on the training she'd received on Betazed, as well as the lessons the hybrid in her arms had given her, Della forced all the fear and worry in her mind aside. It wasn't easy to accomplish, but she managed it, leaving her thoughts clear and calm, ready for what was to come.:: Vetri: ::firmly:: Do it. ::Her melding-hand rested confidently at the correct points of contact against Della’s face. Her voice, though labored, was as true as a Vulcan’s should be.:: T’Lea: My mind… to your mind… ::A pause as her eyes settled deeply into Della’s.:: T’Lea: My thoughts… to your thoughts… ::A bright, white hot pain started to slash its way through the incredible blanket of... what was that feeling? It was beautiful…:: T’Lea: Our minds… are one… ::Nothing. A realistic fear registered in T’Lea’s eyes and reflected back in Della’s. What if the malfunctioning chip in her brain had damaged her abilities?:: ::Repositioning her hand with more determination, T’Lea firmed herself against Vetri’s body and started again this time with a heavier conviction. This time the Romulan joined in out of desperation. She took one lungful of air and spoke without taking a pause, or another breath. The words were the same, but the tone was completely different -- intense and rippling with pain.:: ::Wrapping T'Lea even tighter in her arms, Della held her close, desperation clawing at her awareness. Wildly, her thoughts flashed through everything that could have gone wrong, all the possibilities that could have prevented the link from forming.:: Vetri: Again! Try again! ::Physically the two could not have been any closer. Mentally… A terrible feeling started to bore a hole in the back of T’Lea’s skull. It took all her strength to hold on to Vetri, to stop herself from shaking loose. She was sure she was bruising the woman.:: Vetri: Come on you crazy [...]. I've never seen you back down from anything yet, so make this frakking work! ::One last time. One last act of desperation. One last intense effort to establish the mind-meld. T’Lea needed just one more shot at it. One more. But before the next word could be uttered, it was over.:: ::The Vulcan hybrid never finished.:: ::T’Lea wasn’t holding her breath anymore. She simply wasn’t breathing.:: ::Her head fell on Della’s shoulder.:: Vetri: T'Lea? T'Lea! ::Frantically, she searched for a pulse, a flicker, anything that would deny the evidence of her eyes. Breath coming in ragged gasps, blinded by tears, she tore at the hybrid's uniform, trying desperately to get her body to respond to the instructions her mind was firing out. Somewhere in her skull, a rational bit of consciousness was driving her start CPR, to try and get her patient breathing again.:: Vetri: Nonononono... Don't leave me like this! Breathe! BREATHE! ((End Flashback)) ((Arc’s Personal Residence)) :: A deep, shocking gasp of air filled T’Lea’s lungs. For a moment she’d stopped breathing and had passed out, but she was back. Nobody had seemed to notice her brief disappearance. They were all heavy in conversation about something. She tried to focus and tried to listen.:: TBC Lieutenant Commander T’Lea History & Archaeology Specialist USS Invicta Author ID I238301T10
  22. ((Main Sickbay - USS Constitution-B)) ::The readings were going from 'dead' to 'mostly OK' - this was a good thing. A very good thing. On the other hand, Wyn Foster's body was going from 'fueled by drugs and adrenaline' to 'worst hangover he could remember in a very long time' at warp nine. So when he spoke, it was with a soft lisping drawl that almost made him sound like a true Andorian. Almost.:: Foster: Hey, hey... I think everything's OK. Let's calm down. Everybody good, everybody alive? James: I think he's back with us now...for a while there, Nate, you wuzn't.... ::He fixed his sapphire eyes on Nate, turning serious. Wyn hated playing with life and death. For some reason the miracles of modern medicine seemed to make most people downplay the seriousness of what went on under the biobed monitor.:: Foster: Seven seconds of flatline, Nate. And I've played the game of getting oxygen to the brain before brain damage occurs. I wasn't going to play it again! ::The human smiled, giving a thumbs up, and Wyn couldn't help but smile back. There was something infectious about Nate's cavalier attitude. That and the strange humor gave the little blue medic hope that maybe this time the same person emerged on the other side of death.:: Wilmer: Told you I could do it... James: Oh! You complete [...]! ::She said through smiling exasperation.:: Foster: I would have called him something stronger than that... ::He grumped, staving off an onslaught of nagging. He had expressed concern before this whole debacle happened and it fell on deaf ears. Saying more would only make him look like a dottering mother-in-law; and Nate was too good of a friend for that.:: Wilmer: I'm clear enough to know this isn't my bedroom, Doc. I guess things were that bad, huh? ::He nodded slowly, looking more serious than he wished once again. This was supposed to be a stupid happy fun night of drinking where the worst thing to happen would be some impromptu vomiting and a bad hangover. Not a full on sickbay emergency.:: Foster: I cannot stress how much I don't play around with a patient who has no heartbeat. I'd rather overreact than bury someone. Life support did a bang up job of getting everything regulated again. Wilmer: Doc, please tell me I don't have to spend the entire shore leave in sick bay.... ::Wyn perked a brow and an antennae at Wilmer, debating the answer which he already knew. He wanted to chide Nate and remind him that he had already shot down the engineering repairs before the shock. Oh well.:: Foster: Probably not. But you'll remain here for overnight observation. I want to make sure there's no problem with arrhythmia. James: Yeah, mate, you listen to the Doc proper, yeh? Foster: I'll try to make you as comfy as possible. ::He paused, casting a glace towards James:: Nessa can even stay here if she likes. I have a comfy chair you can sleep in. James/Wilmer: ? ::He bobbed his head in an assent gesturing towards his nearby office.:: Foster: Yeah, I have a non-regulation recliner in my office. It's very, very comfy. But you have to be OK with Triberius sitting on your lap. James/Wilmer: ? ::a hand wave, he was trying to make them feel at ease about staying the night.:: Foster: Triberius is the ::cough:: cat-tribble hybrid Liani made. She said it was for advanced relaxation therapy. ::shrug:: When she left I kept him. He's an irritating ball of fur that loves to sleep on laps. Not sure if I would call that the ultimate in relaxation but he's a decently sweet sort. ::And since Wyn had lost his oldest and most favorite tribble to a soul sucking monster, Triberius was the oldest pet and most constant thing left in his life. He was more attached to the stupid furrball than he would ever admit.:: James/Wilmer: ? Foster: No, I'm not going to be your bodyguard. I'll let the nursing staff handle that. I'm probably going home and nursing one killer hangover. ::A thoughtful pause:: Speaking of, I'll have them treat you guys for hangovers, too. James/Wilmer: ? ::He moved to his office allowing Nessa use of said comfy chair if she desired before taking his leave.:: Foster: I'll see you guys in the morning. James/Wilmer: ? ~*~ ((Foster's Quarters - USS Constitution-B)) ::Wyn Foster dragged himself to his quarters feeling weak, shaky and sick. This was supposed to be a fun night. A relaxing night. A night of teasing and innuendo and drinking. What the hell went wrong? As the door slid open he stumbled inside, looking at the darkness of the big room. It was silent - he couldn't even hear sounds of breathing. That meant Ozameen was out with friends - not unusual. And Mark was... wherever Mark was. And he didn't breathe. God, it was quiet. He walked in like a zombie, letting his oversensitive eyes adjust to the darkness. The cold. It felt good, in stark contrast to the achy sickness in his chest and limbs. The whole conflict of sensation sent unpleasant chills across his skin as he stumbled towards one of the low cushions he called chairs and collapsed down into it. That was when he realized he was shaking. He just couldn't shake it. Could not shake the feeling that every time someone died on his watch, and he brought them back to life that they were never the same person when they woke up again. Could not shake the feeling that something terrible would come of this. Breath caught in his throat as his entire body tensed and he caught himself before he screamed like a mad fool. Instead he made a strangled sound, halfway between a muffled scream and a sob. And in that instant, between soberness and drunkness, between hangover and sleep he opened a slim blue hand and slapped himself across the face to jolt his body into some sort of awareness.:: Foster: Why are you so paranoid?! ::he yelled at himself in an impressively loud tone.:: ::The darkness had no answer.:: ::He cursed. He called out every deity he knew and threw foul words at them. He looked at the stars and called them names that would make his mother blush. Well, probably make her blush - he never knew her. He yelled and screamed at the walls until the reverberations made his antennae hurt. And when all was said and done he didn't feel any better than he had before he started. But his throat was sore. Here he was, over on year after his transfer and not much better healed than the day he set foot on the Apollo.:: Foster: ::Sinking to his knees:: I am stupid. I am so stupid... ::Both antennae perked up. There was footfalls outside. He frowned deeply - the bulkheads were pretty thick, meaning he had to have made a pretty good racket for someone to hear. Maybe they didn't hear. Maybe they were just wandering the halls...in the middle of the night... after a big tiring mission. The chime rang.:: Foster: ::Muttering under his breath:: I really am stupid... ::normal volume:: Who is it? Any: ? Foster: Nope, all fine in here. ::A blatant lie, but hey, it sounded convincing. Less so if one just heard his tirade, but Wyn was a decent actor.:: Any: ? ::He sighed. He had to admit something. Otherwise he seemed like a mad fool:: Foster: I'm a bit too drunk to be thinking straight and far too sober for my own good. Any: ? ::His brain screamed 'do not open the door!' But his heart screamed 'open the door, stupid!' Anyone standing outside a locked door for a conversation this long was someone who deserved a bit of recognition for that fact at the very least, if not an explanation. He sighed, and opened the door. Wyn was not quite as much of a mess as he felt. He was mostly put together. There was some smears on his white shirt from the quick emergency transport, and big dark navy rings under his eyes from a far too high dosage of alcohol inhibitor (which was wearing off..) but otherwise he was looking fairly normal.:: Foster: Hi. Welcome to my humble home. Any: ? ~*~ tags/tbc ~*~ Lt Commander Shar'Wyn Foster Chief Medical Officer USS Constitution-B "Why do we fly? Because we have dreamt of it for so long that we must" ~Julian Beck E239010ST0
  23. (( USS Conny - Main Engineering )) ::It seemed almost surreal when a mission ended. It was hard to pinpoint the moment it even began. The course of events was always the same though, a mission briefing with the captain followed by task assignments and duty posts. There was always the air of excitement depending on task assignment and it was generally a good anxiety.:: ::Then at some point between briefing and completion, you found yourself hanging on a limb, over an abyss… on fire. Questions racing through your mind like “How did I get here?” and “What does it all mean?”.. Or “Did I turn off the lights when I left?”. In quiet moments after a few drinks, you hear the things people think and you realise it’s not just you.:: ::Then after a blink or two, a duck and run.. It’s over! You find yourself wandering a corridor trying to make sense of what happened, how you even survived. Yet amid the calm and austere environment of the Constitution, only a handful of people suffered the trial of fire. 90% of the crew only knew by rumour and gossip the bare outline of their escapades and within the next day or two would even forget the name of the planet they had visited.:: ::Lerayn. Sindri knew already that eventually he too would forget its name. When he had scraped through 10 more worlds like it, each time repairing his physical damage but carrying the wounds internally forever.:: ::He had run into Rustty on his dawdle through the corridors, and they talked the surreal talk of normalness. They spoke of things trivial. They laughed and slowly regained their composure through observing routines, pleasantries and ribald ribbing. They carried on.:: Hael: At least Shore Leave be here’s now. Take’r easy for the next day or two. Sindri: I don’t know what scares me worse, going back to Lerayn or going on shore leave on SB11 again.. They may still remember my face ::He chuckled:: At least I didn’t use my own name. :: Rustty sighed and smirked he was definitely curious.:: Hael: You be usin’ oth’r folk’s namer so’s not to get into trouble’s eh? ::chuckled.:: Sound I ask’s? Sindri: Let’s just say there’s at least one sandwich counter that may not want to hear your name again. Besides, they shouldn’t serve Rom Ale with sandwiches, that's just asking for trouble. ::His expression dropped. A long, annoyed huff.:: Hael: I’s’a also be ‘earin’ you’s done done used my name down there’s on that Sulban’s planet. ::he set his hands on his hips.:: If’n’s you’s keeps that up’s I’m’a gonna have’ta be changin’ my name - an’ I done grown rather a’tached to it. ::he mocked sternness for as long as he could muster, which wasn’t very long.:: Sindri: Well I must admit, it was just fun until your name got that "Lieutenant" attached to it.. I think its a penal code violation now to continue using it. Hael: Ah hell’s, ain’ worse than wha’ I’s’a done already’s. But come on’s, break it up’s a bit an’ use someone elses, eh? ::he smirked.:: Sindri: Agreed. I can promise not to wear your name out.::he grinned widely:: And it’s not personal, I usually just pick the one who definitely has an alibi so they can’t be blamed after it’s discovered. Maybe next time I’ll be a ….”Hopper”?? Hael: ::choked on air.:: If’n ya wanna die, I suposin’ you can use ‘ers… But I wouldn’t tell no ones tha’ Sindri: You right.. Besides I don’t know if I can be masculine enough to pass for her? Hael: ::leaning against the doorframe.:: Gotcha plans fer this ‘ere shore leave? ::chuckled.:: ‘Side’s not goin’ to particular sandwich shop? Sindri: Plans? ::He stared blankly at Rustty for a second.:: I don’t know. I suppose I might think of something yet. ((OOC - No tags yet.. TBC) Ensign Dag Sindri Engineering officer USS Constitution C239211DS
  24. ((Day 98 - Bridge, USS Gorkon)) Marshall: ...looks like they're moving off, Captain. ::The relief was hard to describe, and she watched as it washed over the bridge like the tide. People slumped in the chairs, others smiled, others still bowed their heads, and there was even a fist-pump from one young ensign. All eyes were on the viewscreen throughout, watching as the Cardassian fleet wheeled about in a slow, graceful arc and made their way toward the edge of the ship graveyard.:: Reynolds: Keep an eye on them, just in case this is an attempt to lure us out. :It's what she would do. But perhaps they had been convinced enough by their two day search that there was nothing to find. She hoped that was the case, as it had been wretched living on a ship playing possum for this this long.:: Marshall: Understood. Maintaining... ((Day 131 - Abandoned Research Outpost, 83 Leonis II)) ::...as Blair's away team dragged the last of their haul to the upper deck of the research outpost, Quinn found her attention drawn to the vista outside. With all the doom and gloom of this universe, she found the place oddly calming -- at least here, the people were still alive and prosperous, not doomed by the Prime Directive and Cardassian grandstanding. ::Her gaze was drawn away as Larant approached her, and the ensign pressed the isolinear chip into her palm. She'd given the fiery young woman an odd request, to retrieve as much research data as possible from the wiped computers, and this was the fruit of her labours.:: Reynolds: ::Quietly,:: Thank you. ::She looked down at the chip, then stuffed it into her pocket. Those were answers for another time and another place. Now, she had to attend to the business of survival.:: Reynolds: Let's get this beamed up and secured, then we... ((Day 157 - Bridge, USS Gorkon)) ::...blood trickled into her eye as she hauled herself back into her seat, and she wiped it aside, thoughtlessly smearing it across her cheek and temple, where it mingled with the grime and ash clinging to her skin.:: Eerie: Shields at 34 percent. Phasers offline. Torpedos offline. Rosek: Inertial dampeners are failing and the warp engine is offline. ::No surprises there, given how they were being tossed about like ragdolls with every hit and manoeuvre. She squinted through smoke and sparks at the flickering viewscreen, trying to hold in the cough that the acrid air was producing.:: Nkai: Casualty reports coming in from decks 9, 10, 14 through 17, and… ::a frightened pause,:: we're losing antimatter containment. ::For a moment, Quinn swore her heart actually stopped. Was this it? Was this how it was all going to end? In that moment, all she could think of was Dylan and Amelia, and that hurt so much she could barely breathe.:: Sevo: Captain, I have an idea... ((Day 185 - Port Nacelle, USS Gorkon)) ::...Stoyer looked at her, and she could see the concern etching deep lines into his face. He was looking positively haggard these days, even more so after the recent accident in the fusion reactor that had claimed the lives of several of his engineers.:: Reynolds: Do the best you can, Lieutenant. Stoyer: Aye, Skipper. ::They both turned to look at the problem, and it was not a pretty sight. The row of verterium cortenide coils were scorched and bubbled, some entirely stripped of their inner layer. It made maintaining a stable warp field even more difficult than it already was, and added yet another item to their ever-growing list of desperately needed goods. ::While Stoyer stared at the massive job in front of him, Quinn stole another look at her chief engineer. He was dead on his feet, and that was a dangerous thing.:: Reynolds: And get some sleep. ::He opened his mouth to protest, and she held up a hand to silence him. She was reluctant to do what she was about to do, but the Triumphant crew had been aboard for months now. Perhaps it was time to trust some of them with some real responsibility.:: Reynolds: That's an order. Lieutenant Reynolds can hold the fort while... ((Day 199 - Cargo Bay, USS Gorkon)) ::...it wasn't a big crowd, but she wasn't surprised. This was all-too common an event these days, and it was simply too depressing for everyone to attend all of them. She was one of the few who did, because it was her responsibility. *They* were her responsibility. ::Taking a breath, she swallowed to try and wet her dry throat. No tears, though. No tears for people she barely knew. It made her felt guilty, for not knowing them well enough to feel the loss as only friends and family could.:: Reynolds: We are gathered here today to remember and celebrate the lives of Crewman Teesoan th'Ranthi, Crewman Skalvis, Crewman Devu Levon, Crewman Arash Resa, Crewman Miya Ataaxon, Crewman Tyrene, Crewman Sanjay Patel, Crewman Ayumi Ishikawa, Chief Petty Officer Shelen zh'Raasia, Chief Petty Officer Maxwell Alder, Ensign Pak, Ensign T'Mei, Ensign Marruh, Lieutenant Vrida Prex, Lieutenant Ozioma Babatunde... ((Day 207 - Marketplace, New Donetsk)) ::...her ribs sang with pain, but better the rough collision with the floor than the disruptor bolt that had bored a smoking hole in the wall. Hunkered down behind a low wall, chips of stone flying over their heads as the disruptors slammed into their chosen cover, the Russian woman responsible for their current predicament grabbed onto Brunsig's arm with a desperate strength.:: Nazarova: I'm sorry! Erik came here, he took my wife -- he took Lise! He said if I didn't get you here, he would… he would... ::Quinn dropped her head, looking at the floor, unable to find the words. When Brunsig echoed her movements, the raven-haired merchant paled, tears welling up in her eyes.:: Nazarova: N-no. No! He said-- He promised! Brunsig (Alt): ::He shook his head.:: She's gone, Irina. Erik left her for us to find. ::She half-expected some brutal comment about how the woman should have known better than to trust a traitor to keep his word, but if Brunsig was thinking it, he mercifully kept it to himself. Irina released his arm, collapsing to the ground as though her strings had been cut, and began unashamedly weeping. ::The young security ensign that had escorted the away team gestured for Quinn's attention, indicating the street to their right. There was movement, and it looked distinctly like they were being flanked.:: Tyan: Captain, I suggest we... ((Day 219 - Ready Room, USS Gorkon)) ::...it was pathetic. *She* was pathetic. Pathetic and weak and useless. But it had just been one more piece of not even terribly bad news, and something had snapped inside her. So here she was, huddled and hidden behind her desk, completely unable to stop the tears from flowing as every regret and loss of the past few months rushed in to haunt her. Tam: Quinn... ::The nurse's voice was low and soft as he crouched down beside her, and she turned her face away from him. It was bad enough that she had lost control, worse still that someone was present to witness it. ::He put his hand on her shoulder, a gentle and soothing weight that somehow made it all worse. She shook her head and half-heartedly batted him away.:: Reynolds: Just… ::She heaved a sob, unable to string even a couple of words together.:: ...go. ::He didn't. He hand slid around her shoulders and he pulled her close against him, holding her tight. She could hear his heart beating a steady rhythm and she buried her head in his chest, curling up in his arms…:: ((Day 247 - Ready Room, USS Gorkon)) Reynolds: ...how long do they usually take to reply? Brunsig (Alt): Not this long. ::She cast a weary look toward the three men sat around her desk, asking for their opinions without saying a word. Brunsig had barely changed at all over the past eight months, and why would he? This was the same life he'd been living for years.:: Vess: Ah think this is a bust. We canna sit here twiddling our thumbs forever. ::Vess. Oh, Vess. He didn't know it, but he was the cause of so many of her sleepless nights. His family. His children. What kind of life was this for them? Of course, she had made sure that the few children on the ship were not going hungry the way many of the adults were, and there was an ongoing effort by many of the crew that she too participated in, donating some of their replicator rations to make sure the children had toys and clothes. ::Still, it was no way to grow up.:: Blair: I agree, Captain. We have to stay on the move. ::Dear, stalwart Blair. Quinn wondered if he had regretted his decision to accept the post of first officer on the Gorkon, given how things had turned out. But she was glad that he was here, even if he was not. ::She sighed, sinking back in her chair. They were right, of course, but their options had grown increasingly thing, as Erik Jansen had continued to hunt them, growing ever more ruthless in his efforts. The Gorkon was becoming a cursed name in the Corridor, bringing only death and destruction in their wake. Reynolds: Alright, we'll-- ::There was a burst of painfully loud static, the sound that had long since replaced the polite and quiet chirp of an incoming communication. Nobody batted an eyelid -- they were all too used to it by now.:: Nkai: =/\= Captain, we have an incoming message from… ::he paused,:: uh, the IRW Rh'vaurek. =/\= ::Brunsig abruptly straightened in his chair, and the frown that carved its way onto his forehead was one of alarm and concern.:: Brunsig (Alt): That's a warbird. Reynolds: That's unusual? Brunsig (Alt): Yes. Either our luck is turning, or we're about to get blown out of the sky. ::Nothing was an unremarkable decision anymore. Everything was life or death. And she couldn't remember when she had stopped struggling against that miserable fact. ::It wasn't as though they had any choice in the matter, after all. And now, it was time to...:: -- Captain Quinn Reynolds Commanding Officer USS Gorkon T238401QR0
  25. (( Bridge- United Orion Starship Orion Glory, 2.9 hours from Duronis )) :: Xoren looked out at the viewscreen, the faint dot reprsenting the USS Ashoka soon resolving itself into the image of a Defiant Class starship. Although still outside weapons range, Xoren knew the Defiant Class she was facing would be a formidable challenge, one she and her sister ship, the Orion Pride, would be more than willing to take on:: :: The tall Orion woman, thinner than most, with long brunette hair down her back, with piercing green eyes to match her green skin, had been more than happy to take on this last minute mission. Originally, her job was to rendezvous with the ship carrying the assassins, but that plan was now shelved due to their failure to complete their mission. Unlike Orions, those fools did not choose to kill themselves for their failure...instead, they were captured, and most likely now being interrogated. Xoren had been busy , her fleet raiding dilithium ships and stealing their cargo, stealing so much of it over the quadrant that there was now an acute shortage..and the Orions had cornered the market. Her exploits had made her rich, but not as rich as the commander of the three Orion ships now racing towards her prize:: ::Her orders were to either kill or capture a Vulcan named Varaal, who was making his way to Duronis Two. She was also well aware that this was Quiana's territory, but The Council tasked her to deal with this threat. Hers was not to ask why...following orders had been very lucrative for her in the past, and she saw no reason for that to change.:: :: Closing on her target, her Communications Officer spoke:: Comm Officer: Commander...I am receiving a hail from the Federation starship... Xoren: Put it on the speaker.... ::The next voice she heard was that of the commander of the USS Ashoka:: Zhao:=/\= Orion vessels, this is Captain Marina Zhao of the USS Ashoka. We are on an emergency mission to the Federation Embassy at Duronis II.=/\= :: Standard Starfleet claptrap...they always want to talk before fighting. Before her Coomm Officer could ask the next question, Xoren responded: Xoren: Do not respond. Let them choke on silence....Tactical...charge weapons and go to battle alert...that will be our answer... Tactical Officer: Yes, Commander....weapons charged... :: Once again, the Federation starship hailed them:: Zhao:=/\= Orion vessels, we have detected that your weapons systems have already been activated. Stand down immediately or we will open fire upon reaching weapons range. You have been warned.=/\= :: That was key. This Starfleet captain was going to open fire as soon as she had an opportunity. Her ships did not have the range of Starfleet weaponry..they were never meant to combat Starfleet vessels. It meant surviving the extra 50,000 kilometers range the Ashoka had on them, which meant the Ashoka would get off the first salvo. It meant a knife fight at extremely close range. Turning to her First Officer, a smaller Orion male named Seron, Xoren spoke:: Xoren: Order the Orion Pride to hold course and open fire when in range. Seron: Yes, Commander... Xoren: Helm...put us on a parabolic course...increase speed to emergency... Helm: Yes, Commander... Seron: Your plan, Commander? Xoren: As they engage the Pride,we will be swinging around and will fire directly into her amidships with all weapons. Then the two of us will swing around and make another pass. Once her shields are down, we will batter her into submission, then board her and take what we came for.. :: The First Officer pursed his lips. He was uncertain if the plan would work. He had seen the specs for the Defiant Class vessel they had once managed to have delivered into their hands, the USS Avenger. The ship was subsequently stolen back by Starfleet forces, but not before the Orions managed to build their own copy, which was destroyed during the 2389 invasion. He knew what the Defiant Class was capable of, and he was dubious that such a plan would work. Quietly, he spoke to his commander:: Seron: Commander..the initial assault must be flawless. That class of ship is extremely formidable. We will not get a second chance to effect an affirmative attack... :: Feeling the deckplates slightly heel beneath her as the starship began its turn, Xoren spoke:: Xoren: Noted. Prepare your boarding forces. Do it quickly.... ::Seeing that she was in no mood for contradiction, the Orion male nodded:: Seron: It shall be done.... ::As Seron left the bridge, her Comm Officer spoke:: Comm Officer: Commander...the Ashoka is sending out a distress signal to the Embassy... ::Xoren snorted:: Xoren: The battle will be long over by the time help comes. Let them beg...... Tactical Officer: Twenty seconds before the Pride is in weapons range... Xoren. All weapons ready...drop from warp in five seconds...three...two...one... :: The starfield abruptly shifted to see the bulk of the Defiant Class showing Xoren her broadside. However, her tactical officer called out a warning:: Tactical Officer: Commander! They are firing on the Pride! :: Inwardly, Xoren cursed the heavens. When the Pride dropped from warp she should have been firing. Instead, the Ashoka got off the first shots, a white hot flash emanating from the Pride's engineering section:: Xoren: FIRE ALL WEAPONS!!! ::The Glory shuddered as she fired a full spread of photon torpedoes and raked the Ashoka with phaser fire:: TAG Xoren Commander United Orion Starship Orion Glory As simmed by: Major Hannibal Tiberious Parker Marine CO Acting Chief Of Security USS Thunder-A/ Duronis II Embassy C238703HP0
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