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  1. ((U.S.S. Odyssey, bridge)) :: So, it was over. Slowly systems were getting online again, power returning. Flying was no longer needed, for the Odyssey had come to a complete stop. Now crew were standing down from battle stations and returning to their emergency duties. An evacuation would take place in stages, if it took place, ensuring the amount of available crew per ship was maximized. :: DICKENS: Ok people, you heard it. Ensign Price, I'll need you to coordinate the three ships, the rest of you try to assemble your people for transport and see if there's anyone in an area potentially difficult for transport and report any missing crew. AP RHYS: Yes, sir. :: It was only moments before she could indicate the first of the crew to start moving out. The Discovery had taken a position relative to the ships so she could support both. The OPS Officer on board the Discovery made short work of the groups as they transported over. She moved the patients and medical staff first, allowing the Discovery to arrange site-to-site transport of any injured. She then moved out those who would be least missed and last the Engineers that would not remain. There was order now, simple organisation of movement. This was what she had trained for all those years. The touch of buttons and the power of her voice making sure that all went according to plan. :: :: While the crew was slowly beaming on board the Discovery and she kept track of progress, she also took the time to consider the situation. This finally felt real, but with more and more internal sensor coming online she started to get the sense that everything had been a close call. There was a gaping hole in the U.S.S. Odyssey, an engineer reported damage to the slipstream drive and there were multiple bodies in the mortuary. Indeed, the Vayreg was still floating around as well, heavily damage and in pieces. Unceremoniously thrown at the Consitution as a piece of scrap metal, rather than a Captain’s love and care. :: :: The thought Captain Waltas made her heart sink. She had absolutely blown it with both her commanders. Of course, she had the right to speak her mind, but she could have considered WHEN to do it. But she hadn’t. Instead, she had rambled on and on. There was going to be hell to pay and she had herself to thank for it. With luck, she could remain in Starfleet for a while yet, but she would not be surprised if she would spend many hours regretting ever opening her mouth. It was better just to shut up, tell any superior officer ‘Yes sir’ and leave it at that. :: ((OOC: Next part is very much Kaerae’s thoughts J, not mine )) :: Then again, the man had been a fool. Rather than sending a highly-trained multi-man attack team to arrest who-ever this Nekkar guy was, he had gone over personally and almost managed to get himself killed. Under most circumstances she was all for a personal touch, but going in alone was dumb. She wasn’t going to argue about it, but she wondered how many of the crew shared her thoughts.:: :: So the score was settled: three Starfleet vessels had been heavily damaged over the course of hours, a number of people had died, even more had been injured and would suffer from PTSS for the coming weeks (if not years) and some kind of deadly virus had been contained. For what? Petty revenge? A [...]ing contest between a few men about something that happened a long time ago? She was, of course, no experienced member of Starfleet yet, but she felt that some of the superiors of this region would be less than pleased. :: :: She checked her console. The evacuation was going according to plan and she would need to transfer to the next ship in order to complete the process. Rising from her chair, she noticed dust falling from her lap. The whole place surrounding her was covered in debris and even specks of blood. It was an incredible mess. Saying goodbye to her console, she walked out of the bridge to head to the next ship of her career – the U.S.S. Discovery.:: ((OFF)) Ensign Kaerae ap Rhys Operations Officer U.S.S. Discovery-C
  2. ((USS Excalibur-A, Main Engineering)) :: Murphy was not her friend. Neither was irony. Apparently, this was manifesting as a lot of things going wrong, all of which was definitely forcing engineering to work like mad. It made it worse that she had to keep in the corner of her mind whether one of the engineers was causing any of the problems. The only blessing so far was she'd not found anyone responsible. Oh, and that the ship was still semi-functioning and in one piece.. there was that too. While she waited for a response from the bridge, hoping that Livingston or someone up there still remembered some base level diagnostic coding, she tried to trace back the blocks on internal sensors and communications. It was like the computer was auto-acknowledging everything. So messages were being sent, but prior to receipt the acknowledge code would go out. So, as far as the computer was concerned, things were working normally. The ship rocked from a hit, leaving her if anything more frustrated. :: L.Walker: Phillips! Get more power to the forward shields! Not sure what's hitting us, but it's doing it often enough. Phillips: On it... Chief! :: She rolled her eyes briefly at the response. She was still being "hazed" by the other engineers about being put in charge. Something that she was sure every engineer went through at some point. Looking back at the panel, she saw that someone up there still liked her... well as long as "up there" counted as the bridge. :: >> MAIN ENGINEERING I: DIAGONOSTIC ERROR. MESSAGE UNDERSTOOD. SHUT DOWN ALL HOLODECKS AND TRACE ACCESS REQUESTS. :: She nodded to herself, bringing up the power flows to verify that her command had been completed... only to see that there was a secondary flow to the holodeck that had kicked on when she'd shutoff primary power. :: L.Walker: :: softly to herself:: Why you little... :: In response to her remarks, her opponent decided to blow stuff up. Which included the power to her station and from yells around her, to others as well. She cursed again, mostly to herself before raising her voice. :: L.Walker: Ok, people... Get to damage control or the engineering labs. Move! :: Thankfully engineering had a number of separately powered areas, specifically designed that if there were power failures they could continue repairing. She moved to the engineering holodeck as a slow smile crept onto her face. Likely the person had given engineering commands, changed the settings on something... then erased the commands. Which meant her logging program would capture it as differences to the logs. Unless, of course, that person had read all of her commands and countered it. :: ((USS Excalibur - A, Engineering holosuite)) :: Luna hadn't used this yet, but with her other options out... she brought up the suite, tying it to what information she could pull from engineering systems. She brought up several screens, one of which compared the commands given to the log that she'd pulled separately. Around her she brought up the ship as a three dimensional map. Immediately she could see blacked out areas between decks 13 and 14, as well as between 15 and 16. Whoever had done it had taken out both the primary and auxillary power to engineering and the Intel area. But she could already see that whoever it was had already left the holodeck. The door lock had been removed. The problem was, she couldn't send messages to the bridge anymore. Her consoles were dead, and the interface used higher functions that wouldn't allow the diagnostic messages. Not without shutting it down.. What she needed was a computer system that wasn't directly tied to the main computer. Which of course there were a ton just lying around. Suddenly she started chuckling... then laughing out loud. Just a couple decks above her.. there were in fact tons of computers just lying around. She just needed to get to the hangar. She heard a chime behind her and turned to look through the results. Her face fell, her jaw dropping as she read the logs. That whoever had done it was an expert was obvious, and had Luna not already been logging any changes to compare... she wasn't sure that she'd be any farther for finding out what she had. Her expected moment of triumph turned to ashes in her mouth. If she was right, she needed to tell Commander Livingston. And everything fit, so she was fairly sure. But... she wasn't sure that announcing it was going to help anything either. If Katy had actually done this... then there was no way to know how security would react. Would they support Katy, who would likely claim that Luna was the traitor? And worse, what if she WAS wrong? Accusing Katy would only make matters worse. Though doing nothing would leave her able to wreck (literally) more havoc. This of course presumed she'd have a way to send that message, without revealing more than she should. Somehow Katy appeared to be able to access the computer at the root level. Higher than the Captain technically, and worse she obviously had the skills and knowledge to work around any obvious roadblocks Luna knew how to put up. She forced herself to stop and take a breath. Moaning about what she couldn't do wouldn't help. She just had to think like a thief. If Katy controlled the place, she couldn't be overt, but she could work around her. She created a platform and tried sending a signal to one of the shuttles, and was gratified by a response. Then she setup a firewall around the shuttle, no one else could access it but her for now, any other signal would receive that the system was offline. She then reconfigured the communication protocols to send to specific locations on the ship using the transmitters and receivers there for those without badges. Since she was using the base locations, it would act as an old time switchboard. She could connect people together or at least locations. :: L.Walker: =/\= Lt. Walker to Bridge. Over.=/\= :: The sound and quality was terrible, but something that could at least be understood :: Silveira: =^= Sil here, we are listening, what happened? =^= L.Walker: =/\= Our friend took out power to the engineering stations as well as Intelligence suite. We are using the damage control stations, but more limited. On the plus side, I'm using a computer not attached to the ship to partially restore communications. =/\= :: The obscure reference wouldn't take too long for anyone to determine, though at least she would avoid immediately announcing her method to any potential plotters. :: Livingston: =/\= The sooner we get a system back, the better. Do you have any news on who was behind the sabotage? =/\= :: She swallowed, not wanting to share the news she'd discovered. :: L.Walker: =/\= Whoever it is, they appear to have the same access as the Captain, possilbly more. And they are very skilled, they were able to reroute my power commands on the fly, delaying them long enough to shoot back. =/\= Livingston: =/\= Whoever it is, have you locked them out? =/\= :: She shook inside, the thought reminding her far too much of what she'd been through before being rescued. Especially if it was Katy, one of the few people on the ship she still knew. Game or no, it was a shock. :: L.Walker: =/\= Hard to say. I have a name that's called out, but it could easily be another false lead. Especially with the access they have. =/\= :: She couldn't make herself believe she was wrong. Too much made sense for it not to be her. :: =/\= The logs I generated show that the updates were made by Commander Orman. System traces were immediately erased and electronically muddied. =/\= Livingston: =/\= We’ll deal with her. Thank you, Mister Walker. Please continue repairs. =/\=
  3. ((USS Darwin, Deck 6: VIP Quarters)) Hheinia: The sun beams like a warm oven, but we love it. We're a simple people Lieutenant and Talvath is a simple planet. We engage in our own business and the concerns of the empire or those around us are of no interest. Eickleberger: It seems like a lovely place that... ::Nessa continued to pace the VIP quarters, noting her plush and comfortable surroundings for the first time. It just added fuel to her animosity pyre, which was in no danger of extinguishing as it was. She couldn't be less interested in the weather on Talvath at this current moment. To his credit, she sensed, neither could the governor. She could very well die today - again. At the hands of a group of Romulan pseudo-terrorists - again. Today was not a good day to die. It was a very different story when she was a teenager, but over the last three or four years Nessa had resolved not to die. She hadn't worked out what to live for yet, so dying already was not an option. It was an ironic twist that one of the key people in her not having died already was also Romulan. She had to remember that. It was difficult at times.:: Nessa: ::Butting in abruptly with a question of her own.:: Ever met a Senator Vreeya, guv'nor? Hheinia: ::Continuing to look out the window.:: No I haven't. oO Didn't think so... Oo Nessa: Frankly, she's the reason we're both standin' here and neither of us is bleedin'. Never spoke to her, like, but she taught me that Romulans can be good people, jus' like anyone else. Hheinia: What a profound suggestion. ::In a distant corner of her mind, a small part of Nessa realised how petty and vaguely racist that was. But that corner of her mind was well out of communication range at the moment; between it and her seemed to stand the entire Romulan Star Empire.:: Nessa: Are you a good person, guv'nor? ::It was a simple question. An honest one, such as your six year-old child might ask after being taught about morality for the first time and not really grasping it properly. But Nessa did believe in good and evil. In between there was a whole lot of grey, she understood that. Sometimes, good people do bad things; Nessa herself was a shining example of that, and doing her best to prove it right now. But at the core of it, some people were good. Others were not. It was a valid question, in her eyes, though not one she expected an honest answer to. Under the circumstances, the governor was hardly likely to turn around and say "No, I'm pure evil!", but it *was* better than punching him in the face...:: Hheinia: I think you'll find my people would certainly consider it so. Nessa: ::Noddingly, slowly.:: Well, if you ain't, and I live to regret you not bein' in an 'olding cell right now... ::Softly:: Just want ya to know that I never got to see the face of the last Romulan that tried to kill me. As you can see, 'e failed. Me poor addled mind could easily be persuaded he looked a lot like you though. Play nice an' that honour could be Sindari's instead, sure as sure. Eickleberg: Ensign! I think it's enough from you. Hheinia:: It's fine Lieutenant. Nessa: ::Smiling sweetly:: Don't mind me, sir. Just conductin' a bit o' diplomacy o' me own. ::The sudden change of countenance of the Romulan governor was, Nessa had to admit, briefly concerning. It was almost as if he had resolved to hate her almost as much as she instinctively hated him.:: Hheinia: The Lieutenant might be able to help me with this, but is it standard diplomatic policy to threaten people? oO Seems to be, in the Star Empire... Or is that just in your Intelligence service? Oo Eickleberger: I'm very sure she didn't mean it as a personal threat sir. Hheinia: Oh I assure you Lieutenant, It was meant as exactly that. ::With a slight smirk on her face, Nessa nodded faintly.:: oO Yep. Sure as sure. Oo Hheinia: ::Looking at the young Ensign.:: I've seen it so many times. You grow up hearing all about Romulans and how bad they are and all the nasty things they've done. Yet you know nothing truly about us or what our values truly are. oO Hearing about them? Sure, yeah... hearing... Oo ((Flashback - 15 Years Ago, London Hotel Room)) ::From under the blanket, wet, terrified eyes looked out from behind a tangle of dirty brown curls. The horrible man was still there, chuckling to himself. The beads of sweat on his pallid flesh glinted in the lamplight, and even though he'd removed himself from her, the stink of Kali-fal hadn't diminished at all from the near-noxious odour she'd just been subjected to.:: S'Lhaerrh: You know, you weren't bad. ::He said, in a tone which disgusted her. The more she thought it might be genuine praise, the more disgusted she became.:: A little... inexperienced, but... I suppose that's to be expected. ::He chuckled to himself. Another thing Nessa hated about the vile man; it sounded like a metal rod stuck in a wood chipper.:: S'Lhaerrh: Perhaps I'll make use of you again, the next time my employer sends me to this... place. Nessa: ::Mumbling under her breath, through the folds of blanket.:: You... you ain't never seein' me again, sir. Not never. I ever see you come back 'ere, I'll be gone. One way or t'other. S'Lhaerrh: Little girl, you do not seem to understand. If I want your company, my employers will see to it. ::He smiled, a disgusting smile which revealed stained, yellowing teeth Nessa would rather never see again.:: The wheat rarely gets a say when it is time to make bread. ::With that he left, as quietly as he had entered. As soon as the door clicked closed, she sprang to her feet and ran, naked, to the window. It was locked, of course. Part of her knew it was going to be. And she had nothing to hand capable of breaking through reinforced glass that thick. To keep out the noise of the street, they claimed. Right now, it felt like it was designed specifically to trap her here until the woman, Osfrid, returned. Turning back to the bed, Nessa saw the smear of blood on the sheets, and her knees betrayed her. She collapsed to the floor, and started to cry. When she was in tact - before she'd bled - that was the most valuable to anyone she was ever going to be, Osfrid had said. So now what was she? Just a sheaf of wheat. Wheat had no say when it was time to make bread.:: ((End Flashback)) Nessa: ::Enraged:: Values? You wanna t- ::The governor began speaking again, which further incensed the pink-haired Ops officer. She decided to let him continue, closing her eyes and breathing in through her nose slowly, just like Brey had taught her. Secretly she was quite glad. He was beginning to have a point, and she didn't like that one bit. But "grow up hearing all about Romulans and how bad they are" had lost him that momentum, and the follow-up left jab, "you know nothing truly about us" had removed all sense of doubt. Nessa glared at the man now, with dead eyes and a stoney heart. She hoped Eickleberger was medically trained.:: Hheinia: I'm not finished Ensign! You got a free hit before but I'm not about to let you slander me OR my people without challenge. ::Pausing to direct this conversation.:: Don't presume to Judge me Ensign. I made a call about Sindari and his character for MY purposes. Nothing about his background said he might hijack a Starfleet Vessel nor could I have cared less if he did. Our current set of circumstances obviously changes things. Your vapid comments do nothing for our situation. oO Vapid? Vapid?! Oo ::As soon as she found out what "vapid" meant, she was probably going to be *so* cross about that comment.:: Eickleberger: Neither does having to engage such comments. Some things should be ignored. Even if they do need punishment later. ::Glaring at Eickleberger:: oO Punish me all you want. It can't be no worse than what he's doin'. Oo Hheinia: When all this is cleared up, and I assure you it WILL be, I"m sure you'd like my assessment of my treatment to be one of thanks. As it stands Ensign you are the physical manifestation of why the quadrant cringes at Starfleet, and when my report gets handed in as to whether I choose to enter Starfleet or not enter it. I'm sure your Career might develop a hiccup when I tell them that you singlehandedly jeopardised any hope of that. ((Flashback - Two Years Ago, USS Victory)) ::Nessa stared at the conn with abject despair. There was literally nothing she could do right now. Her life, and that of the crew, the Starbase, the Thracian Alliance, even the sector, was now in the hands of Colt Daniels, Harold Foster and his team of scientists. And Foster was in sickbay with radiation burns from the test-firing of the weapon, which hardly filled her with confidence. Nessa glanced towards tactical, where Daniels was currently working. Briefly he looked up, and their eyes met. That was when the faintly-glowing candlelight of hope was finally extinguished. Colt's eyes weren't smiling today. His eyes always smiled at her, even when his face didn't want to. But not today. Today his eyes said 'I think this is it for us, Nessa'. His eyes, much like the rest of Colt Daniels, could get away with calling her Nessa. Not many officers could say that. But it looked like this would soon be irrelevant. They were stricken, on emergency power. A metal husk, floating in space, with innumerable Romulan warheads heading their way, destined to wipe out the Starbase and most of the organised military presence in the sector. And Nessa James could do nothing. They were going to die, she was pretty sure of that now.:: ::The wheat doesn't get a say when it's time to make bread.:: ((End Flashback)) Nessa: ::Shaking her head ever so slightly.:: You're massively over estimatin' how much I care about your "assessment" of your treatment, or me career for that- Hheinia: You swarm into MY colony and members of my colony attempt to stage a takeover of your ship, and you stand here and preach and JUDGE my people. As if you can assess the entire race from the actions of a few. ::Pointing directly at the Ensign.::You are lucky that unlike you, I can see past short sighted assessments, like mine of you. Starfleet has much to offer me and my Colony, unlike your worthless racist assessments. ::Hheinia probably thought he'd got her on the ropes. Or maybe in his mind that was a knockout blow, or at least a knockdown. What Hheinia didn't realise was that he wasn't even in a boxing match. This was a verbal streetfight, lawless and unregulated, and Nessa *preferred* to be backed into a corner. That's where she was most dangerous. The ensign saw Eickleberger out of the corner of her eye, desperate to interject himself and retain some sense of decorum, to maybe salvage some kind of relationship with the governor. Nessa deliberately stepped forward, physically blocking him out. If Starfleet wanted decorum, they shouldn't have sent in Necessity James.:: Nessa: You wanna stand there and bang on at me about how I judge you, and your race? Tell you what, guv, I'll cut you a deal; The day I meet a Romulan, and no other Romulans try to kill me, mug me, violate me body, me mind or me ship or 'urt me friends, *then* I'll stop judgin' you. You say I'm prejudiced? I am, sure as sure! And I'll remain prejudiced until such a time as your people stop confirmin' every bloody prejudice I 'ave! ::She was vaguely aware of a burning sensation in her eyes, and a dampness on her cheeks, but ignored it.:: *My* people were *asked* to *your* colony by *you*! To *help* your people when your OWN FETHIN' EMPIRE wouldn't! ::She was dimly aware she was yelling at him, but by this point her mind was careening down a single track with no hope of return. She was far, far past caring about decorum.:: Eickleberger: ::Raising his voice and adding finality to his tone:: That is enough Ensign. Now. ::Turning his head to the Governor.:: Sir, you'll have to forgive the actions of some of the crew. They know not what they do. ::In one of the many moments from today that Nessa would come to later regret, she forcibly shoved the diplomatic officer out of her way.:: Nessa: NO, sir! It is NOT enough apparently because THEN, the very people YOU brought onto OUR ship try to *STEAL IT FROM UNDER OUR NOSES*! They're up there *right now*, possibly killin' *my* friends, *my* family! And *I'M* IN THE WRONG?! ::Nessa took a much-needed breath, but it didn't do much to calm her. She noticed her tears for the first time, and wiped them away with the back of her hand.:: Nessa: ::Slightly calmer, to begin with:: Listen, I ain't got no problem with the hundreds of thousands of Romulans down there ::she pointed, vaguely, at the window:: doin' nothin' wrong. What I *DO* 'ave a problem with is the ones stealin' me ship, SHOOTIN' AT ME FRIENDS AND FAMILY! ::At this point she was reduced to vitrolic screaming, as tears streamed down her face.:: THE ONES WHO VIOLATED ME, *KEEP* TRYIN' TO KILL ME, FIRED *WARHEADS* AT ME! IT'S ALWAYS ROMULANS! IT'S *ALWAYS* FETHIN' *ROMULANS*! And now you wanna join STARFLEET?! You wanna be part of *MY* family?! After all you've DONE?! After all you're doing *RIGHT NOW*? How many *MORE* Tal Shiar agents are down on that planet right now that you have ::she made finger-quotes in the air,:: "NO IDEA ABOUT"?! To hell with that! And to hell with *YOU*! ::As the rage incited by Hheinia's words began to ebb away, only then did Nessa began to realise what the last few moments must have looked like to poor Lieutenant Eickleberger, who had been marginalised and shouted over throughout. Who had watched his diplomatic escort completely implode in front of him and almost beyond doubt take any hope of reconciliation with the Romulan governor with it... What she had just committed was suicide. Career suicide, this time. But still suicide. An officer with her record, with her past... there was no coming back from this, surely?:: oO But it wasn't *fair!* How *dare* he stand there and say those things! Oo ::But perhaps the millions of Romulans who had not yet committed grievous acts in violation of her body, health or spaceship didn't deserve to be tarred with the same brush as 95% of the Romulans she had actually physically met. All chickens laid bad eggs sometimes, right?:: oO Am *I* a bad egg? Is that *why* all this keeps 'appening? Oo ::Suddenly, the realisation hit her that Eickleberger and the governor were both still standing in stunned silence, looking at her. She was still sobbing near-uncontrollably, her eyes red-raw. Breathing in ragged, tattered breaths with sweat glistening on her brow, she'd been standing there, staring into space, for at least five seconds... She looked a complete state, and even the security guards had re-entered to see what all the fuss was about. With a large sniff, Nessa drew herself up to her full five feet seven, and looked the governor in the eye.:: Nessa: ::Pathetically, with polite nod that was far too little too late.:: Good day, sir. ::Nessa turned on her heel and tried to calmly leave the room, but after three steps of near-serenity she quickly degenerated into a blubbering, sobbing half-sprint, and barged past the security officers. The younger one tried - too late - to block her path, but Oakley signaled that there was no point.:: ::Behind her, she faintly heard Eickleberger's plea.:: Eickleberger: I understand unfortunately sir that it can be hard to separate someone's views can color our outlook on an entire group. Just as you said. Hopefully you yourself are above such base judgements of the crew... ((Time Warp)) ::Several minutes later the adrenaline had worn off, and Nessa found herself in some Jefferies tube or other. She wasn't sure where, or overly sure that she cared. She had her knees hugged tightly to her chest and her face buried in between them, sobbing uncontrollably. As the incandescent rage disspitated in her little cucoon of calm, her mind drifted towards the apologies she was going to have to make... Lieutenant Eickelberger, Captain Reinard, Lieutenant Falcon... Hheinia, obviously. The more she thought about it, the more upset she became.:: ::Once again, she was wheat. And it was time to make more bread.::
  4. ((Monitor Launching Berth, USS Odyssey)) ::He walked with the practiced ease of someone who had been in combat many times. His feet barely made a sound, even in the boots of the Federation uniform he was wearing. He was conscious, barely, of the four pips on his collar-what they represented, and what he was undertaking. He knew, as a Captain, that he should be on the bridge taking care of his ship in a time of crisis such as this. He also knew that Nekkar, as a Captain himself, would expect this. He trusted his Security personnel completely, but Nekkar was a scheming coward, and he refused to let him victimize anyone else. He had crippled the Odyssey, revealed himself as a traitor to his own Captain, and above all, endangered the lives of the people under Tyr’s command. Walking the length of the docking berth, the Ba’ku discarded all doubt, leaving it in his wake. The berth was quiet, in spite of the chaos of a ship that had just suffered an attack. He was armed only with his hand phaser, and if Nekkar was still the same man he once knew, he wouldn’t need that, either.:: ::Then, he was there. Hunched over the launching panel, attempting to override the security protocols and launch the damaged Monitor to get away. Beside him was a small duffel bag with a large medkit sticking out of it.:: o O The virus. O o ::Tyr purposefully shuffled his feet, and the Talarian’s movements stopped. His hand slid to his phaser.:: WALTAS: Nekkar. You’re under arrest. ::The Talarian turned, slowly, his hands in view and revealing a clutched phaser in his left one.:: NEKKAR: So you’ve come to stop me, Ba’ku? Where are the rest of your forces? WALTAS: They’re attempting to clean up the swath of destruction you and Hebron have carved through the Federation. And I don’t need anyone else to stop you. NEKKAR::Wicked smile:: Is that so? Hebron is an old fool, but he was useful to get what I needed. Once I kill you and escape I’ll take this to my real target and make the statement the Brikar was unwilling to make. ::Tyr stepped forward, training his phaser on the Talarian, which drew an amused chuckle from his former mentor.:: NEKKAR: So it appears with your youth you also left your courage in the past. You’re going to just blast me into oblivion? You’re not going to face me like a man? ::It was the Ba’ku’s turn to chuckle.:: WALTAS: No, Nekkar, I’m not going to shoot you. That would be too easy. ::He brought the phaser to bear, not on Nekkar but on the bag at his feet. Sensing his intentions Nekkar aimed and fired, striking him with a glancing shot in his shoulder. With his right arm numb his aim failed and the blast missed the bag. Clutching his wounded shoulder Tyr dragged himself behind a console, gritting his teeth in pain.:: NEKKAR::Teasingly:: Oh, Tyr I’m disappointed. Years ago you would have hit that shot and still had time to shoot me as well. You ARE getting old, Ba’ku. WALTAS::Cursing under his breath:: You’re tough with a phaser in your hand Nekkar. If age has taken away my aim it’s taken away your skill as well? NEKKAR: Stand up and find out, Ba’ku! WALTAS: Drop the phaser and I will. ::There was a long pause, then the sound of a phaser skidding across the deck was clearly heard. Tyr cautiously stood, seeing Nekkar disarmed, and he tossed the phaser aside as well.:: WALTAS::Closing on his former mentor:: You just made a fatal mistake. ::He saw Nekkar snap into a fighting stance. The Ba’ku just kept walking forward. Now in the light at close range, Tyr could see that age had gotten the better of his former CO. Fortunately, ego had also gotten the better of him.:: NEKKAR::Moving quickly to a frontal kick:: DIE Ba’ku! ::The Talarian’s foot was caught in mid air. Tyr twisted the ankle, hearing a distinct snap and a cry of pain from Nekkar. He swept the remaining leg out from under him, sending him crashing to the deck. With a feral snarl that called upon his Talarian strength through the pain, Nekkar launched himself from the deck directly into Tyr’s midsection, sending him crashing to the deck as well and slammed the Ba’ku’s head into the deckplates. Tyr vision filled with haze as the Talarian moved to repeat the attack, but his training took over. Catching the Talarian’s hands in a triangle chokehold. Squeezing as hard as he could he could hear the air escaping Nekkar’s lungs and the strength leaving him. All the rage, the hate and the frustration poured into the hold, the monster inside him growing, craving to hear the Talarian breathe his last. He squeezed harder, driving his knee into Nekkar’s throat, staring into his quickly-fading eyes with all the rage that came from a father defending his child and a Captain defending his crew. He hated this man. He wanted him to die. For all that he had betrayed. For all that he had done. For all the death that he had dealt. And ultimately, for the betrayal of the Ba’ku himself. Nekkar had been a personal hero of his, and watching him turn into the monster that he was now strangling to death was enough to make him listen for the last gasp.:: ::Feebly, Nekkar reached up and touched the Ba’ku’s cheek, almost in a fatherly, affectionate way. Looking into his eyes again the Ba’ku didn’t see the monster-he saw the reflection of one.:: ::He released the hold, dropping Nekkar gasping to the deck. Rising to his feet, clutching his ribcage, the Ba’ku walked unsteadily over to one of the dropped phasers. Picking it up, he aimed at the bag once again and fired, disintegrating the bag and the virus within.:: NEKKAR::Hoarsely:: NO! ::The Ba’ku turned just in time to see that Nekkar had not only recovered, but picked up a stray piece of duranium piping that had broken loose from the hull. The pipe slammed into the Ba’ku’s ribs, and the Captain could not resist crying out in pain. He dropped to his knees and looked up just in time to see the pipe slam into the side of his head, sending him to the deck. The loud clang of a metal pipe dropping to the deck was all he could hear other than the ringing in his ears.:: NEKKAR: You [...]. You self-righteous [...]. You honestly think this is about you and me? You still don’t realize who is really at work here, ::slamming a foot into his ribcage:: DO YOU?! ::All he could do was crawl, attempt to regain his breath, which came in ragged gasps. Blood flowed from his mouth, mingled with the air his body fought to bring in. He knew he was hurt badly, and all he could do was crawl. Another kick sent him rolling onto his back, his vision clearing from the burst of pain that ripped through him. Nekkar had walked away to pick up the phaser. He knew he had to rise…one more time…for those whom he swore to protect. For his crew and his family.:: ::The Ba’ku got to his feet.:: ::The computer signaled Nekkar’s efforts had been successful, and the bay doors leading to the Monitor opened. He bent down to pick up the phaser to finish his protégé off, only to have it kicked away from him.:: ::Saying nothing, the Ba’ku launched a furious serious of attacks, drawn from the pain and betrayal he felt. Palm strikes hit the damaged throat. Kicks slammed into the ribs. Punches slammed into the jaw. A back kick sent him sprawling over the console, giving the Ba’ku time to pick up the piece of pipe that had so damaged him. He raised the pipe, ready to finish things. Once and for all, he would finish them. Death loomed over the two, teacher and student, Captain and Captain, betrayer and betrayed. His grip tightened as he aimed to bring the pipe crashing down on the Talarian’s skull.:: NEKKAR::Weakly:: Do it. End it. ::He raised the pipe, summoning the last of his strength. As he looked down on the broken body of his mentor, his former friend, the words of his crewmates came to his mind. About fighting the darkness without becoming it. About seeking peace instead of war. About how vengeance darkens every soul.:: ::The pipe dropped to the ground.:: NEKKAR: Frakking coward. You never were able to make the big..ULP! ::The Ba’ku’s hand was around his throat.:: WALTAS: I’m a Starfleet officer. A father, a Captain and a man. And you’re under arrest you son of a [...]. ::A final punch landed squarely on Nekkar’s jaw, sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head and the body slumping to the ground. The Ba’ku soon followed, dropping to his knees. He coughed, splaying blood across the front of his uniform. He weakly reached up and tapped his comm badge.:: WALTAS::Wheezing:: =/\= Waltas….t…sickbay..cas..casual….ties.. =/\= ::Everything went black.:: Captain Tyr Waltas Commanding Officer USS Odyssey
  5. ((Arboretum; USS Garuda)) ::The Garuda was much larger than the Avandar had been and even though Rune had already memorized the ship's layout, it took her longer than she expected to reach the Arboretum. She actually had a dual purpose in seeking out the ship's garden park. One was personal, the other business though she wasn't going to push the business end too hard just yet.:: ::As soon as she entered, she was greeted by a breeze of fresh air and the sound of water trickling somewhere from deeper within. She stepped forward, allowing the doors to close behind her. Taking a deep breath of the cooler air, she almost regretted it. Her side was still sore from the recently broken ribs and punctured lung.:: ::She smiled with an odd sense of bitter-sweetness as she slowly made her way along the path that had been made to look like a well worn dirt walking path. Aside from her quarters and her office, it was the quietest place on the ship and it was the only place that reminded her of a homeworld she was certain she would never see again. She found a bench away from the entrance and sat down. :: ::Stretching out her legs in front of her, she leaned forward with her hands on the edge of the bench. Hanging her head, she closed her eyes and took a much slower deep breath. She sighed softly at the sound of footsteps and almost wished whoever it was would just keep walking. That was, unless it was the person she had hoped to run into here.:: ::The Mercury had an Arboretum as well, but Alora hadn’t visited the Garuda’s version yet. It was lovely, of course, as lovely as the Mercury’s, and larger. Green was no dominant, nor was red, yellow, or purple, or any other colour. Rather the entire room was sprinkled with various shades of various hues, some that humans didn’t even have a name for. Flora from the furthest reaches of the known parts of the galaxy presented themselves in various locations for the benefit of those who wished to study or simply admire them. In truth, the Arboretum wasn’t simply one room. Too support the amount of various flora and to sustain ideal conditions, various plantlife with similar atmospheric and soil requirements, smaller rooms were laid out in a pattern within the larger. The main room boasted the largest assortment and sustained a temperature around eighty degrees. For humans, it was warm but not too hot. Humidity was tempered by a constant but gentle flow of air which made it more pleasant - for humans and other races that enjoyed similar conditions. While plants did not speak, silence could never be completely formed even in the Arboretum, especially with that breeze. There was always a hush of leaves, the whisper of twigs as they twittered slightly at the air’s touch. Visitors also added to the song of the Arboretum, though there were few that day. Only one that she could see, as a matter of fact, so when Alora drew nigh, she spoke.:: DeVEAU: Oh, hello! :: Rune looked up and immediately smiled. She recognized the human face from the personnel files she had sorted through. :: JOLARA: Hello. I was just enjoying the silence, such as it is. ::motioning to the empty space beside her:: Care to join me? I'm Rune Jolara. DeVEAU: Sure. Why not? ::Another day, another new face. Alora wondered if there would ever come a time when she recognised everyone she saw on the Garuda. With turnover being what it was, that wasn’t necessarily going to happen for some time. Still, getting to know other members of the crew was useful. They had to work together, it was a positive goal. The young woman offered her hand.:: DeVEAU: I’m Alora. :: Rune smiled and gladly accepted the handshake. :: JOLARA: I must confess, I already knew who you were. I’m the new ship’s Counselor. DeVEAU: Welcome to the Garuda! You came here to counsel plants? ::Alora gave a half grin.:: DeVEAU: Or did you just need a change of scenery? ::Rune shook her head and looked around. :: JOLARA: Perhaps partially. But mostly I enjoy the peace I can only find here. It reminds me of my homeworld. DeVEAU: Your home world? Where are you from? JOLARA: Leya-I. ::She smiled but there was a sadness behind her eyes. For that one moment, she missed the home she would never see again.:: It’s always warm. I think that’s one of the things I miss most. ::Alora couldn’t miss the expression within what many earth poets had deemeed windows to the soul. It could be believed as emotions played themselves out so easily in the eyes.:: DeVEAU: Oh? So it’s like this? Lush and green with lots of foliage? Parts of Earth are like that too. JOLARA: ::nodding:: It is. I believe you would call it tropic or sub-tropic. DeVEAU: Very nice. JOLARA: What about you? Where are you from? DeVEAU: I’m from Earth. Terra. Whatever you wanna call it. ::And yes, she missed it, but Alora couldn’t deny the advantages of traveling and serving in Starfleet.:: DeVEAU: Do you miss Leya-I? JOLARA: ::nodding:: I do. More than I thought I would. ::Alora tilted her head as if she were trying to get a better, or perhaps deeper, view of the counselor.:: DeVEAU: Why so down? JOLARA: I don’t believe I will ever be able to go back. ::Alora straightened a little. Had something happened to the planet? The destruction of something like that wasn’t trivial. Surely she would have heard had something occurred - wouldn’t she? DeVEAU: It’s...gone? JOLARA: No, my homeworld is still there. As humans say, long story short, I am at odds with my people. DeVEAU: Oh. I’m sorry. ::Odds with her people? All her people? Wow, that had to be hard. It was difficult enough being at odds with a single member of one’s family much less one’s entire race.:: DeVEAU: Do you mind if I ask in what way? :: Rune thought for a moment how best to explain without making the Lieutenant uncomfortable. :: JOLARA: I can not conform to what they consider acceptable thinking and behavior. They want to change who I am and who I am becoming. DeVEAU: What are they trying to change? ::Alora had to admit there were certain traits that should be changed. For instance, of someone had a habit of being physically abusive, that was an aspect of that person that should be worked on and modified - for their good and the good of others. She doubted that was the case with the Counselor, however.:: JOLARA: oOShe’s human. She should understand the way Nikki put it.Oo They wish to change my sexuality. They tried once before but failed. I refuse to go through the process again. ::The way Rune said it, was very matter of fact. Of course it was much more complicated than that and only 3 other people knew the entire story. Make that 2 since LtCmdr T’Lea had lost all memory of any time aboard the Avandar, including even knowing Rune. That very thought dredged up even more unwanted thoughts and emotions which Rune tried to quickly brush aside.:: DeVEAU: Oh. ::Seriously? Try to change her sexuality? And exactly how did that work? Alora wasn’t sure she really wanted to know.:: DeVEAU: That sounds rough. I’m sorry...I hope the process wasn’t painful. ::Rune tried not to react to that. What had been done to her was not the attitude readjustment therapy she had been trained to administer to patients. She wasn't really sure what it was but it was very painful. But that wasn't something she really needed to share with Alora. After all, they had just met and, now, thinking about it, she had probably shared too much already.:: ::Alora leaned forward and rest her arms on her knees, crossing them over each other. As she pondered, her lips pursed and she shook her head.:: DeVEAU: Sometimes we need to change - when we’re doing something that’s obviously wrong, like losing our temper all the time, or constantly stealing things. But when people want to change who we are when who we are isn’t necessarily anything wrong, well, those people are probably too short sighted to see how wonderful you are and too focused on how they think you should be. ::Alora turned her gaze and let it rest upon the counselor once more.:: DeVEAU: I say forget them and find people who appreciate you for who you are. ::She offered a rueful smile.:: DeVEAU: I know, easier said than done, right? ::Rune couldn't help but smile.:: JOLARA: That it is. But I'm sorry. I didn't really mean to ::What was the human term?:: unload on you. DeVEAU: Nah, it’s okay. I mean, we all need to unload sometime, right? ::Alora had friends Did Jolara? What was it like being a counselor on a ship? It seemed a lot had trouble connecting with counselors. She didn’t midn them, knew they were necessary and good, though she had to admit she wasn’t going to go to them first. If she couldn’t get past her issues after talking with her friends then yes, definitely. Did counselors have trouble making friends? Her thoughts drifted to Calavera briefly. He’d tried so hard…:: JOLARA: ::turning the conversation around:: Do you miss earth? DeVEAU: Yeah, I do, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t, but I love being out here and seeing new things and having the chance to discover new things. I can at least visit earth now and again. ::But what would it be like if she couldn’t go back? If she were in a similar situation to Jolara? That would suck.:: DeVEAU: What’s Leya-I like? I know you said it had a lot of flora. Is it rich in fauna as well? JOLARA: Yes, we have a wide variety of fauna. DeVEAU: I’d be interested in learning more about it. I’ve done some virtual exploration of Vulcan. Would you be willing to show me your planet? ::Rune actually liked that idea.:: JOLARA: I do have a holo-program I was given. I would be very happy to show it to you. DeVEAU: Awesome. We have a couple more days of shore leave if you want to do it. I think there’s a special presentation tomorrow, but maybe after that? ::One of the reasons Alora had joined Starfleet was to explore. While using the holodeck wasn’t exactly the same, it was still nice, especially with someone who was familiar with the world and could educate her while they visited the sights.:: JOLARA: That would be perfect. ::smiling:: It really was nice to meet you. DeVEAU: And it was nice meeting you. ::Rune moved to stand up. Apparently she had been sitting too long and her back protested, though she didn't show any outward discomfort.:: JOLARA: Oh, before I forget, would you mind coming by my office later? I'm doing a simple follow-up with those who transferred from Mercury. It shouldn't take very long. DeVEAU: You are sneaky, you know that? ::Alora’s mouth quirked upward. At least she seemed a little more friendly than Calavera. Not that he hadn’t been nice, but he’d been...very stiff.:: DeVEAU: I guess I’ll see you sooner rather than later then. JOLARA: ::grinning:: So I have been told. ::bowing her head slightly:: I will see you then. Fair day, Alora. ----- Lt. JG. Alora DeVeau Science Officer USS Mercury & Lt. Rune Jolara Counselor USS Garuda
  6. (( Sickbay, USS Garuda )) :: Del could get used to the Galaxy-class, but he did wish he didn’t feel so [...] guilty admitting that to himself. After all, it wasn’t as though Aron was dead -- in fact, it wasn’t as though Aron and he had even really been good friends any longer. But after cleaning out his quarters with Alora DeVeau, Del found that he just didn’t have the heart to accept the latter as true, and so he was stuck feeling terrible, even as he stretched out in the large office off of the main sickbay. It was cushy, truly: He had an office, Saveron had an office, Kotir had an office, Hawkeye had an office -- hell, even his head nurse had an office. The Galaxy-class, he’d decided, must’ve been dense as hell, since it was honeycombed with nothing but offices. In fact, that was where he’d decided to spend much of his leave time. Like his old office, this one had a very nice window, and he’d spent a long time looking out of it at the station or down at Eta Corvi IV and not doing much else, even though he had a lot to do, not the least of which was unpack his office things. But, he had to admit that there was another reason that he was slightly nervous -- and unless he was much mistaken, it was currently waiting in the hall. :: DEL VEDOVA: You can come on in. I saw your shadow out there. RAHMAN: Oh, I... didn't want to interrupt you. DEL VEDOVA: You’re not. Don’t be silly. :: To prove it, he set down the box he hadn’t been unpacking and held his free hands up, palms facing her. :: DEL VEDOVA: Anyway, if you’ve decided that now would be a good time, I’m not going to disagree. You’re the one who has to undergo the procedure. (beat) If that is what you’re here for. RAHMAN: ::nods:: Yes, if now would be a good time? DEL VEDOVA: Absolutely. Come on. :: As it so happened, much of the nursing staff and nearly all of the techs and docs were over on DSX or otherwise occupied on the Garuda. Del didn’t need an assist, but he had to admit that he found the utterly empty Sickbay to be slightly disconcerting. Still, he had his work to do, and he was with a friend -- or at least he hoped she was. Maybe he was about to find out. Which, once he thought about it, really put too much weight upon the procedure; in this context, this complex and fiddly context, she had to be a patient only. Didn’t she? :: :: She followed him over to another corner of sickbay and sat down at a small table where various instruments had been set up. She waited as he left to retrieve a small box. When he returned, he set it on the table and opened the lid. :: DEL VEDOVA: You want to examine them first? See if they’re up to spec? :: She peered into the box to see two detached biosynthetic digits resting on a bed of smooth fabric that almost looked like silk. If someone had stepped in at that moment to witness the exchange, they might have thought Del was channeling his inner post-Impresionist by presenting the strangest belayed birthday gift yet to his friend. :: RAHMAN: They look... nice. :: She shrugged and gave him a goofy smile. :: RAHMAN: I'm sorry, I don't know what else I'm supposed to say about a couple of fingers in a box. :: Del snapped it closed again, realized he needed it open, reopened it, and set it down on the tray beside the bed. In truth, he didn’t know what he expected her to say, either: “Oh, good, it looks like I’ll have fun with those?” “Great job, Del, let’s be best friends?” He smiled shortly, though more at her expression than at his own desire, which he’d managed then to mask as a joke and preferred not to think about just then. :: DEL VEDOVA: That they’re the most beautiful phalanges you ever did see, obviously. (beat) It’s not easy to induce biocybernetics to pluripotency that quickly, I’ll have you know. It’s not like we can just replicate them. It’s a long process, and complicated! Not as simple as a couple of fingers in a box. RAHMAN: Well, as long as they work. :: He met her eye for just a moment, all too aware that at the end, he’d strayed from talking directly about the fingers themselves. :: DEL VEDOVA: They will. :: As Del prepared himself for the procedure, he ran quickly through a mental list of the instruments he’d need and then checked them against the table he’d prepped. Yes, it would be a meticulous procedure, but it shouldn’t end up being so long or so hard. Really, the difficulty would be in syncing the nervous system and ensuring that the new fingers were properly vascularized or she’d be throwing clots like crazy. Not that she needed to know that yet, he didn’t think, although…. :: DEL VEDOVA: You are aware of the risks of this procedure, aren’t you? I sent you the material, but I’m not going to stand over your shoulder while you read it. You’re an adult, you can make an informed decision. :: He sat down across from her and began arranging the tools to his liking. The meticulous attention to placing each instrument in the proper place was almost hypnotic that it took her a second to realize he had asked her to do something. She smiled sheepishly. :: RAHMAN: Oh, sorry... :: Well, she clearly hadn’t been listening at all. He sighed. :: :: She extended her left hand forward and was a bit surprised when he grabbed it rather suddenly and firmly. He twisted it a bit to place it in position for the procedure. :: RAHMAN: Agh, careful now. I'm not a doll. DEL VEDOVA: No, you’re not. Right now, you’re a living, breathing Kriosian who’s undergoing a delicate surgical procedure, so mind you follow instructions, hm? RAHMAN: Hmmph. :: She wanted to cross her arms and give him the usual eye roll, but with him holding one of her arms already, she had to settle for propping the other arm on the table and resting her chin in her palm as she looked at him with mild indignation. :: :: Well, if it was a life and death situation, he wouldn’t have considered that response informed consent, but he figured her presence in the place was consent enough to proceed. He flash-sterilized the hand up to the wrist and then did the same to his own, his instruments, and the new fingers before he administered the nerve block. :: DEL VEDOVA: You’re not going to feel anything below the wrist. That’s normal. :: He didn't give her much time to process the disclaimer. With the laser scalpel, he opened the first finger’s stump and swooped in at once with his magnifiers to begin tying the veins and nerves together. :: :: He kept a steady grip on her with one hand as he performed the delicate work with his other. She gazed around the larger Galaxy class sickbay. :: RAHMAN: So... how are you liking the new facilities? :: He barely glanced up. He was just then connecting the digitales palmares, and it required his close attention, even as the nanobots did their work at a level too small for him to see. :: DEL VEDOVA: ‘s nice. ‘s missing something, though. RAHMAN: Oh? :: Her eyes continued to dart around the room, noting the various pieces of equipment lying about, many of which she had only seen before at the medical starbase where she had stayed following the accident aboard the Tempest nearly eight years ago. :: RAHMAN: That seems difficult to believe considering how much excess I feel they've installed aboard. ::grins:: I know Cybernetics is certainly happy though with the upgrade they've gotten in terms of facilities... :: She looked back at him to see he was still focused intently on the medical procedure in front of him. Which is as it should be, of course. Yet, she nonetheless felt disappointment that their conversation seemed an afterthought to him so far, as unwarranted as that feeling might have been. :: :: She decided to prod a little further. :: RAHMAN: All right, then, doctor. Maybe I can put the requisition order in for you. You are talking to the ship's second officer, after all... what's missing? :: Wait, what had he said? The digitales palmares in that finger was complete, and the nanobots were now working furiously on the neural connections. These were much trickier, and he was monitoring closely, instructing the others manually to carry away a dead ‘bot whenever one was zapped by an errant charge. :: DEL VEDOVA: Aron. Also you. You never visit. And now he won’t. :: The answer genuinely caught her off guard. Not because it wasn't true, and not even because she hadn't realized it, but because it was said so plainly. He didn't even look up from his work nor expand upon the thought. It sounded more like a simple observation than a complaint. :: :: In the weeks and months following that night in sickbay when Del and Captain Kells had confronted her, she had made a conscious effort to avoid sickbay. Which was utterly foolish. Here, Captain Kells had given her an answer, or at least a direction towards an answer to her problems, and instead of capitalizing on it, she had instead chosen so far to try her best to ignore it. And part of that had meant ignoring Del, too. :: RAHMAN: ...I know. :: There! That was one finger completed. Now he had only to monitor the osteoblasts and then apply the dermal regenerator, and that was only the work of a few moments. :: DEL VEDOVA: Do you want to? :: His eyes remained locked onto her hand as she looked back at him with a bit of remorse. :: RAHMAN: Yes. (beat) Very much so. DEL VEDOVA: Well, then, you should. :: Then, the first finger finished, he sat back slowly, stretched his back, and looked her in the eye. His voice, his demeanor was completely changed. :: DEL VEDOVA: There! First finger, back to work! RAHMAN: Wait! I wanted to say... :: Her voice trailed off as she saw the new finger start wiggling slightly. Her eyes shifted between the finger and Del for a moment before she chuckled. :: RAHMAN: I'm not doing that. DEL VEDOVA: Well, you think you're not. It's going to take a little while for your perceptions and your somatic nervous system to sync up, but you'll be there in under an hour. RAHMAN: Okay, good. Otherwise, I'd be afraid of accidentally hitting the warp core eject button. :: Already Del had begun to work on the second finger, but he stopped just short of the full sterilization. :: DEL VEDOVA: Yeah, well, me, too! Or did you think I didn't have a stake in this, hm? Arrogant engineers.... :: He started to get back to work, but Roshanara called out again. :: RAHMAN: Wait, Del, you were talking about missing me... well, me and Aron -- Captain Kells. :: She didn't want to sound too immodest. :: DEL VEDOVA: Oh, I did? (beat) Did I? :: She returned a frustrated glare. She wasn't sure if he was being his usual difficult self now or if he had genuinely not realized what he'd said. :: RAHMAN: Yes, actually. :: Del shrugged. With the sterilization complete and the first cut underway, he was again bent closely over her, and the shrug wasn't exactly a motion she would've recognized. :: DEL VEDOVA: I said a lot of things. I think out loud when I'm working. Helps to keep my mind focused. RAHMAN: Well, anyway... :: She waved with her other hand at the tools. :: RAHMAN: Go ahead. Let's finish what we started. :: He didn't need to be asked twice. With the wound re-opened, he dove in and began the revascularization procedure again, knitting the materials together with his army of nanobots and fully focused upon the task at hand, save for the sliver of his mind that occupied itself with talking. :: DEL VEDOVA: I suppose I was talking about him. Come to that, I've been thinking a lot about him, especially since Alora DeVeau and I went through his quarters. Also, not just him, but friendships in general. Ours, specifically. :: As he set back to work, she watched him now instead of his surroundings. She had always enjoyed bruising the egos of overly confident physicians and teasing Del, especially when he was bumbling about in her domain of engineering. Truthfully, though, she did respect their work, and here, now, watching Del perform in his domain, she realized how much she respected him. :: RAHMAN: You know, he told me something... before he left. DEL VEDOVA: Who did? Aron did? What'd he say? :: Del couldn't have stopped at that point if he'd wanted to -- he was on to the neural connections -- but he found that, just after the split second in which he really wanted to see her face and her expression, came a much longer time period in which he wanted to avoid looking at her or even hearing the answer to the questions he'd asked. :: RAHMAN: He had sent everyone else but Doctor Saveron and myself back to the Garuda. And at the time, I was still processing the fact that he was leaving so suddenly that I didn't really think about what he said. :: Well, there: She hadn't said anything at all. A whole platoon of nanobots went dead, fried by a calcium overload, and Del made an angry noise deep in his throat before he asked. :: DEL VEDOVA: Well? RAHMAN: He said we shared a friendship in you. And that the friendship you and I had... the one that he remembered enduring over the next decades... was something worth saving. DEL VEDOVA: Did he now? :: But Del's voice, even from the depths of the surgery, was steady, calm. He wanted to know more, oh yes, but there were those final polarizations to attend to, and now he had to heal over the whole shebang... :: :: Her voice grew unsteady now. No! She wasn't going to cry now. She'd already broken down once in front of Del outside the holodeck. But she did need to tell him. She looked for a moment at her hand still in his grasp before continuing. :: RAHMAN: I want to believe that part of my future is true: that you'll be there with me. Even if I'm scared about the rest that's to come. :: Especially because she was scared about the rest that was to come. :: DEL VEDOVA: Well, you don't need to worry about a thing, because -- your second finger is finished! :: He sat back again, and for the first time since his last major emergency surgery, he felt his body sweat. :: DEL VEDOVA: Also because we are friends and will always be. Okay? :: She sat for a moment just looking at her two new fingers. The first had stopped wiggling, but the newest one was now starting to waver back and forth. She then looked back at Del, with an unrestrained smile. :: DEL VEDOVA: You didn't think so? :: She blinked, trying to hold back a tear, and sniffled. :: RAHMAN: I… I didn’t know what to think. I was afraid I had messed it up. DEL VEDOVA: Is that it, really? :: That made her finally lose it as she felt a tear break through her composure. She laughed as she wiped it away with her other hand. :: RAHMAN: Yes, that’s it really. God, you’re such a [...]! :: She held her left hand in her right, looking down at the set of fingers, now complete again, and smiled. Del had done a meticulous job. Her hand still showed the scars from her original accident, but unlike her previous two replacements, the new digits blended in with their colleagues perfectly. :: RAHMAN: But I’m glad you’re my doctor. (beat) And my friend. :: Del was already putting away his tools. He looked down for a moment, then back again, straight into her eyes. :: DEL VEDOVA: Neither of those has changed, or will ever. You know that -- even if I sometimes forget. :: Del finished his cleanup, tapped into the computer to mark the surgery’s end on Rosh’s chart, a chart that he would now go and file into her long and complicated history -- but he looked back at her before he went. :: DEL VEDOVA: You’ll want to check in with Dr. V’Las. She’s the new physical therapist, and she’ll want to work with you as you learn to use those new fingers. (beat) And how about lunch tomorrow? RAHMAN: ::nods:: I'd like that. DEL VEDOVA: Good. See you then. :: He’d kept his voice calm and even, and he waved the PADD with the chart he’d transferred over to it as he headed back to his office and S’Riss headed over to finish up with Rosh. He did look back once, though, and of course when he did he saw her looking, too. He winked. What was he thinking? He had never been a winker. But now, he thought, maybe that had changed. :: -------- JP By: Lt. Cmdr. Roshanara Rahman Chief Engineer and Second Officer, USS Garuda & Dr. Nic del Vedova Chief of Emergency Services, USS Garuda
  7. (( Corridors, USS Apollo )) :: Shel left with Sun after dinner and the tour, he didn't want her to realize he was planning on going back to have a talk with Jaxx by himself. Some things are just better left unsaid, and if she knew he wanted to have a private word, what was to stop her from chaperoning to prevent anything he had to say, from being said. He followed her down the corridor a moment, before she went for the turbolift, excusing himself for a brisk walk. After he was sure she was out of sight, he doubled back and headed back towards the quarters they dropped Jaxx off at. He buzzed the door. :: ::Sitting at his desk, the reports on the screen were plentiful. Keeping up with the ships in his sector was a fairly tough job. He was able to handle it fine most days, and today was one of them. The longer he sat there, the faster he blazed through the status reports of each ship in his sector. Glancing toward the door, there was a second and the chime sounded. Since it was not Sun, as she would have walked in, he was curious who it was.:: Jaxx: Who is it? Shelther: Shelther... Jaxx: Enter. (( Captain's Quarters, Deck 2, USS Apollo )) :: The doors opened before he could say more, and he stepped inside. He was glad that her Captain was willing to be hospitable, but he supposed that was because Shel hadn't said or done anything offensive, not that he really had a chance in the short time he had been there. :: ::As the man entered his quarters, Jaxx stood. It was the civil thing to do, and he figured that Shel had a reason to be there without his sister. Jaxx knew he could have expected to have a chat with the man when they had time. Now seemed to be that time. Moving over toward the sofa he watched as Shel spoke.:: Shelther: I was hoping to have a moment of your time, without Sun present... as I am sure she will become the subject of conversation. Jaxx: Of course, please...come in. ::pointing to the sofa:: Shelther: First, I suppose I should inquire about how long I would be considered welcome. :: If it was left up to Sun, he would be welcome until he embarrassed her, which could be any time he talked about their growing up, but he wanted her Captain's opinion. He could make arrangements to stay for a longer duration than originally anticipated, depending on whether he was welcome, and possibly needed. :: ::Taking a seat on the sofa, he considered what Shel was asking. There was no hurry for him to go anywhere, and he was not from an adversarial military so he really had no issues with the man being aboard the ship. Of course there were places he would not have clearance to be, but that would be anyone outside of Starfleet.:: Jaxx: As long as you can...I know she likes being able to see you. Shelther: I am not sure if you noticed, but my sister... She can be a handful. She's a bit willful and adventurous, and sometimes doesn't consider what she's doing until after she is in the middle of it. ::Jaxx simply nodded. It was nothing he did not already know about the woman. It did not make him love her any less, even though he had not spoken the words yet. She was who she was and that is who Jaxx fell for. Though he would choose his words carefully so he did not tip his hand too much.:: :: Shel looked at the man curiously, apparently his words didn't quite shock the man. :: Jaxx: ::smiling:: I have noticed. Shelther: I have been sort of charged with protecting her since she was really young, I made the mistake of trying to teach her how to swim by throwing her in the lake near our house when she was only 3. Since then, she hasn't stopped finding adventures to have. Jaxx: Well, you will be happy to know that her service in Starfleet has not stopped her from seeking them. She loves being able to experience new things, and has been able to do some of that while serving. :: Shel laughed and took a seat in one of the chairs, he didn't expect anything to change, although he had been worried after she left Antosia that she wasn't quite herself. But Jaxx's words reassured him that his sister found her way back to having fun. :: Shelther: She finds ways to do what she wants... Jaxx: But I am sure there is more on your mind, than just your sister’s personality quirks? ::There was always something behind small talk, and the initiation of a conversation. Every brother had the right to worry about their sister. It did not matter if they were older brothers, or younger ones...no matter what, they looked out for the women in the family. It was something that Jaxx had seen many times before, and even though he had no sisters, he imagined he would do the same.:: :: Thinking about the question, trying to organize his thoughts, he wanted to make sure that Jaxx felt the same way about Sun that she felt about the Captain. He knew how she felt, once she asked for her stuff, he knew. At the same time, he also knew that if Jaxx loved Sun, that he would have to relay the information about her wanting to get shot to get rid of the guilt that she seemed to feel for the situation that happened on Izar. Either way, he wanted to present his plan to stay longer than a few days in a way to benefit everyone. :: Shelther: Besides her quirks? Yes... Jaxx: So, what is on your mind? I am an open book. :: The invitation seemed like it was there to suggest asking any question. There were different approaches that could be used in asking what someone's intentions were with his sister. He could go blunt and make sure the guy wasn't playing games with her heart. He could go subtle and explain why her feelings were important. It was a difficult choice for him. He wanted to spare Sun any possible heartbreak, without making either of them upset with him, especially if all was well. :: Shelther: My sister knows me well enough to know that this isn't just a social visit, she might have even relayed as much to you. Jaxx: ::smirking:: Perhaps it came up. Shelther: :: He nodded, his sister would worry about that. :: Well that's good that it was expected. Her being out this far, I worry about her. Especially when it comes to her heart, she's adventurous and can be fearless when others aren't involved, but she's only given her heart away once. So when it was broke, since she wanted to be in space, I suggested her not join the Antosian Military, but join Starfleet, so she would be further away from the memories. :: Shel thought about Sun's graduation from Medical School, he wasn't supposed to be there, but he had news he had to deliver, and knew it would be easier for her to receive it from him. There were moments when dealing with her heartbreak seemed so long ago, and then moments when it seemed like yesterday, and he just wanted to prevent it from happening again. :: ::Pulling from his education, Jaxx thought it was an odd approach to encourage one to run from dealing with their emotions. Most times it did more harm than good. Of course he could not rely on everyone to give the best advice. Even Jaxx had made bad choices. He joined Starfleet after he lost Saraa. Though him joining was to honor her memory by following through with her plans. He never wanted to join Starfleet, that was her goal. Never did he look at it as if he was running from her memory. Either way, Jaxx chose his words carefully, not wanting to offend Shel.:: Jaxx: ::nodding:: That is one approach... Shelther: My sister says you two are exclusive now. I know how important you are to her, I am sure you know that too, by now. ::Jaxx felt Sun had not really prepared Shel for this sort of talk. Of course, Jaxx never came right out and told anyone he could read thoughts and emotions. Out of respect he avoided the thoughts unless they were also Betazoid. The empathic abilities were always there, something that could not be turned off. Of course Jaxx knew how she felt. Most times, he knew better than she did. It came with the territory of being the species he was.:: Jaxx: I do. Shelther: Where do you see things going with my sister? You do love her right? :: He was hoping the man in front of him wouldn't be interested in playing games with the heart his sister, but he didn't know the man yet, so he couldn't make any assumptions. :: ::Glancing down, Jaxx tried to find the right words to explain it to Shel. It was where he lacked the most. In the heat of a tense moment the words came. In a calm setting he had to think about them more than usual. He did not want to say the wrong thing, so he carefully plotted out his course.:: :: It was not an easy question for him to ask his sister's boyfriend, so Shel couldn't imagine it being an easy question to answer either. He had watched the man carefully and when he spoke, Shel made sure he was focused on the words spoken. :: Jaxx: I love her very much. When I look into the future, all I see is her. Shelther: And that isn't altered by your position, or the fact that you are from different worlds? Jaxx: We have challenges ahead of us, and I am prepared to face them. There is the stress of our positions as well as having to deal with our parents. Either way, nothing can scare me away. :: Shel nodded, seemed like their mom had come up in conversation, which was good. He knew it wasn't that their mom would hate Jaxx, she was just hung up on wanting Sun to have what she had. Shel wanted Sun to have a love like their parent's as well, but unlike his mom, he was willing to concede that was not Marseen. :: ::Jaxx was never one to back down from a challenge, and there would not be a challenge greater than the one he would face with her. It was also one he could not wait to face. She was amazing and she was the star in his solar system. Each day with her was brighter than the one before. They had a perfect balance of love and lust, even if he had not told her about the former. He would be sure to let Shel know that he had not told her that.:: Shelther: Good. Cause I'd hate to have to deal with her heart broken again. Jaxx: How about you? Where do you stand on her not returning home? ::It was something he was curious about. Jaxx never talked to his brother about him not being home. At the same time, his father spent a bit of time on Earth and even his mother went and visited often. Bjenta was the only one that gave Andrus a hard time about not returning home, but he never paid attention to the comments. He was curious where Shel stood on her position and duties in Starfleet now that she was there. Afterall, it was his idea.:: Shelther: Well, I am going to hear it from our mother. But, Sun's a big girl, and if she is doing well out here, I can't fault her for wanting to stay. She'll just need to visit to make the parents happy, and I am sure our younger brother wouldn't mind seeing her either. Jaxx: Well, I will urge her to visit when she can. ::Jaxx knew how important it was to return home, at least for most people. If she was running from anything, it would be harder than if she was not. Jaxx just wanted to avoid his mother and the lifestyle in which he was raised. It was not as if he used his career to run away, as he really did do great things in the galaxy.:: :: Shel wasn't going to make the same mistake he made with Marseen, and assume things before there was evidence to prove it. He needed to see his sister interact more with Jaxx. But right now they appeared happy, and that was enough for now. He thought about the conversation they had before dinner. He changed the subject, knowing that the man would want to know if he truly loved Sun. :: Shelther: I think you should know that Sun is planning another adventure. Jaxx: ::pausing, he looked at the man:: She is? Shelther: Apparently this one has been in the works since you guys left Izar, but she hasn't found anyone to help her carry it out. :: He knew his sister hadn't told Jaxx, but Shel wasn't beyond telling her secrets, especially the ones that needed to be told. If Shel was going to follow through with his offer to help, he was going to cover his bases. And, if Jaxx loved Sun, Shel couldn't see it coming out too favorable for him if he didn't give a heads up. :: ::Rolling his eyes, Jaxx could only imagine what it was. The fact that she had been trying to cook this up since Izar was a testament to the fact that it must be a bit out there to not have anyone helping her. Letting out a slight sigh, he wondered what she had in store for herself.:: Jaxx: This cannot be good... Shelther: She expressed how upset she was that you got shot, and her curiosity of what you went through. You should really be careful in what you tell her. Making it sound like it wasn't a big deal, now she's convinced either you lied to make her feel better, or that it really wasn't a big deal. Either way, she's determined to find out. :: If Shel was honest, he wasn't entirely sure if Sun would still be as set on her course, if Jaxx told her the truth. But she probably would have done more to make it up to the man, instead of planning this ridiculous experiment of hers. :: Jaxx: oO Just great! Oo You know, what is it with women? You try to protect them, either from physical harm or from their own emotions….and they do not let you. Shelther: She's pretty strong, why did you need to protect her? Jaxx: She was already having a bad day, the last thing I was going to tell her was that it hurts like hell, there is stiffness where you were hit, and for hours you have a headache that will not go away. ::Getting shot was not fun, but for Jaxx it was not a big deal. He had to endure much worse when the Dominion invaded Betazed during the war, and even more when the Challenger crew was attacked on Earth, or even the terrorists at the University of Shinraka. Getting stunned by one of his officers was a walk in the park when compared to those situations.:: Shelther: I could see that, but now she's got a plan she wants to execute, she seems to have it thought out. Jaxx: I guess talking her out of it is out of the question? :: Shel smiled, that would be the initial thought of anyone, talk the person out of it. But that didn't quite work as well with an Antosian. Their people performed medical experiments to find out how illness affected them, and weren't opposed to trying anything once. Sun hadn't ever been shot, and so when the question of how it felt came up, of course she wouldn't back off the idea, it was more a matter of when it would happen, than if it would. :: Shelther: Nope, you're talking about someone who had medical experiments performed on her during med school, just to see what the results would be. Jaxx: Well, if she is hell bent on going through with it, we will just have to make sure that she is protected as best we can. Got any ideas? ::Jaxx wanted to safeguard her and he knew that Shel wanted her protected as well. Perhaps he would be in a position to limit her exposure. One thing was certain, working with him to help protect Sun would be a bonding experience for the two of them. He had no plans of letting Sun go, so it was time he got at least one ally on his team from her family. Shel was going to be that ally.:: Shelther: Actually, her plan has her safeguarded, she wants to do it with medical back-up, I imagine she would want to be seated so she doesn't fall and hurt herself. And, with her plan, she will see it coming. I have other ideas. Jaxx: I am all ears... Shelther: But her argument for wanting this, was to see what you went through. And, did you see it coming? :: He thought about his sister's plans, it was one thing to feel the pain of the phaser wound, but it was another to not see it coming. There was more to getting shot, and with his plans they could still have all the other precautions ready for her, but it should be a surprise to her. :: ::Jaxx thought about the moment the detonator landed in his hand. In that moment, he felt as if the mission succeeded. The threat seemed to be neutralized and simultaneously his people stormed the room. There was a moment just before the shot where Jaxx realized it was going to happen. Something was read in the emotions Marcus displayed. Of course, he was not going to explain that to Shel.:: Jaxx: It was quite unexpected. Shelther: She isn't a very good shot with a phaser, she shoots alright, but could be better, and moving targets are a big problem for her. Since I found out she was First Officer, I want to run her through some target practice. Jaxx: It is standard and she would need to be signed off on them anyway, help from you could only push her in the right direction. :: Shel wondered if the man was even interested in having a hand in teaching his sister a lesson, but given the fact that he was disappointed he couldn't protect her from herself, he figured that Jaxx would jump on the opportunity. Whether the man wanted to be there when the whole thing went down, or have Sun carried up to her quarters afterwards and meet there, Shel didn't know. :: Shelther: I figure, phasers will be blasting, and I could easily catch her by surprise there. She won't see it coming. :: He thought his idea out about as well as Sun had her idea planned out. :: Now that you know, you have an opportunity to have a hand in the whole thing, whatever you think will impact her the most. Jaxx: You know, I think I will just watch it all unfold. ::The medical team would be on stand by, and Shel would take the shot. There was nothing really left to do besides catch her off guard. That was where Jaxx could come in. If he guessed right, she was not going to tell him about her experiment. It was fine, but now he wanted to watch it happen when she least expected it.:: Shelther: I could always carry her up to her quarters afterwards, if you don't think she was going to tell you. Jaxx: I have a pretty good idea that she was not going to tell me about this little plan of hers, so I want to be there. Shelther: You sure? :: Shel was starting to wonder who was more tricky to deal with, his sister, or her boyfriend. His idea was to possibly bring Sun back to her Captain, and deal with whatever came there. But, the man standing there, watching the one he said he loved, getting shot. Even though Shel hoped the man would let him go through with his plans, he didn't expect that. :: Jaxx: She will not expect it if I am standing right there, and you will be able to really catch her off guard. ::Jaxx had to look over her file to see what she exactly needed. Usually a senior officer and the security chief would handle the weapon certifications, but Shel would do as a witness. Sun felt the need to know what it was like to get stunned, so he would not stand in the way of her dreams.:: Shelther: That would definitely throw her off. But how would that work? Jaxx: We can put it together that I am there to certify her on the the phaser rifle as well as any hand phasers she is lacking on. ::Not every officer was schooled in advanced weapons. Many of them did not get certified on the rifles until they were well into their career, unless they were in the security or tactical department. Tech had come a long way, so they were not as standard as they used to be. While the operation settings were similar, the overall makeup of the rifle was quite different.:: :: Now that the plan was changing, Shel was warming to the new idea. It would have her trying new weapons, but he was still concerned on how to introduce the idea to his sister without her being suspicious. :: Shelther: Do you have to go through certain channels to do target practice? Jaxx: Just prior notice to the Security Chief. Once it is scheduled, the bridge can check to see if there are any target practice exercises. Live fire exercises are rare, but not unheard of. ::Most training was done in the holodeck. There, it was easy to simulate any weapons system or how to use them. It even provided a setting that would simulate combat and pressure under fire. But from time to time, the use of actual weapons was needed. As long as the order came from Sun or Jaxx, T’Mar would not have an issue with it.:: Shelther: Should Sun know that? Jaxx: If she has been reading up on starship protocol, she does. I cannot say for sure, as there is a ton of information she has to catch up on. :: Shel nodded, if Sun wasn't too busy with her days, she was probably spending a lot of time reading. How much of the information she absorbed while reading was usually amazing. He remembered her reading over his shoulder some of the biology reading he had to do while he was studying, and she frequently had questions that rivaled the tests that his professors gave him. She was very curious about things. :: Shelther: And she's probably been busy on top of all that. Jaxx: As you can imagine, it is quite a leap from Sickbay to Executive Officer. There is a learning curve, and while I have no doubt she can handle it, I am not sure what she knows and does not know yet. ::The countless codes and regulations that one needed to learn was daunting. There were still times that Jaxx had to research the regulations on certain instances. It was near impossible to know them all. Since Sun took over as XO, she had not had much time to brush up on learning all of the intricacies of the position, though Jaxx had no way of knowing what she did and did not know.:: Shelther: Well, she does like to read, and absorbs quite a bit of it. She might already know, but it's possible we'll catch her off guard. Jaxx: ::narrowing his eyebrows:: How soon do we want to do this? ::Jaxx was curious what the time frame was. Part of him felt devious for planning such an event with her own brother, yet at the same time it was almost like a bonding experience. One thing was for sure, if Shel was willing to go through all of this to really teach his sister a lesson...he and Jaxx were going to get along just fine.:: :: Since Shel said he would assist Sun with her plan, he didn't want her getting too far through the scheduling portion of her plan. And he didn't want to spend too much time planning his idea out or she might get suspicious. It would be best to blind side her. :: Shelther: Well, if we want to catch her before she has another biter, or before she decides to set a date for her plan... we'll want to do it within the next couple days, the sooner, the better. Jaxx: We could do it sooner. Shelther: I was wondering if tomorrow would be too soon? Since there are parts that need scheduling, I hope it can be pulled off. Jaxx: Pft, I am the captain...I can do anything on a short notice. We will do it first thing in the morning, then I can give her the rest of the day off. Shelther: Well, now that we have that arranged, thank you for seeing me. :: Shelther stood up, there was more he wanted to talk about, but he knew the man was busy. He was glad that enough time for a small conversation was spared. :: Jaxx: ::standing:: No problem. We will have to have time to chat again before you head back to your ship. Thank you for stopping by. ::Moving toward the door, Jaxx watched as Shel left. He stood there for a moment, wondering how the man became so devious to pull off something like this. He had almost forgotten how he used to prank his little brother, and as the thoughts came back to him, he smirked. It had been quite some time since he had pulled off a prank that was worthy of mentioning. Perhaps it was his duty that kept him from doing it, or maybe just his position. Then the question popped up in his mind...would anyone suspect the captain? It was a theory he decided to test out.:: TBC Fleet Captain Andrus Jaxx Commanding Officer USS Apollo, NCC-71669 & PNPC LtCmdr Shelther Faranster As simmed by: Lieutenant Commander Sundassa "Bright Hair" Faranster First Officer USS Apollo, NCC-71669
  8. ((Deck 500, Medical Bay)) ::Sakorra pushed with her mind. She tried to break through the hard encasement. But her mind wasn’t working like that anymore. She held no power. She felt concern. She felt an approaching sense of love, but she couldn’t open her eyes to see the one she knew was nearby. She’d been able to open her eyes for a short time before, but she’d still been operating with the psionic abilities that were now lost to her. And now that loss kept her trapped in her own mind.:: Sinda: Reed? Can you hear me? ::Sinda! I thought Cinder killed her.:: Rogers: Cmdr Reed is injured ? ::She was just so tired, like her bones were marinating in fatigue. Why did they always have to fight so much? Why couldn’t there be less violence, more good will? What she would give for a peaceful mission! :: Solok: Commander Reed's injuries appear to be healing. She has been ... impaled. Significant blood loss, although Nurse Brolin was able to cease the bloodflow near the scene of the injury. She will live. Her unconsciousness has yet to be explained, however. ::Love. Help me!:: ::She knew before even trying that he wouldn’t hear. Her mind had no more power within it to converse telepathically. She could hear the continuing conversation, but Sumo wrestlers appeared to be having a contest on her eyelids of who could sit the longest. And they kept getting heavier, the pressure intensifying until her skull felt like it might fracture from the weight. They started sitting on her stomach, too, covering her entire torso actually, and she found it harder to breathe. She just couldn’t get enough air. Electrical impulses zigged through her muscles, her nerves, burning them raw. The flames spread, engulfing her neck, her back. She felt like she’d been prepped for surgery and the doctor kept using the scalpel to peel away pieces of her muscle. Then he stabbed a Bat’leth into the back of her neck, lodging it all the way down to the bone, but it wasn’t enough for him. He kept digging. She assumed it was a man, because a female doctor would have been gentler. Why then, after all that, did he start slicing at her thighs and hips? And why then add the pins soaked in fire to her fingers and palms, her side, and her arms? She felt each intensely but it was on her so suddenly that she lay still and silent one moment and the next began near convulsing on the bed and screaming, screaming so loud a banshee would have covered her ear. She tried to form words, but she couldn’t get them to work at first. And finally, she was able to form two words.:: Reed: Kill me! ::Please kill me. Please, please, please. Just let me die. God, just let me die. Her eyes shot open, searching, pleading, seeing nothing and everything. People rushing to her bed. As her head shot around wildly, she saw Sinda nearby, laid up next to her. She saw the captain and a very large cat and a purple child. And she saw Solok. Each face became fragments blending together so that Captain Rogers had Solok’s ears and eyebrows and boring haircut and Solok had purple fur. Sinda became blonde and bald and the cat had a spoon on its head. She was too tired to fight the pain. Too tired to continue moving, expending energy her body could no longer produce. Her body shorted out, unable to comply with her brain’s commands. And she gave up, sinking down into the pain, letting it cover her, and she became still, still as death, and the only indication she still lived was the machines, the tiny, frantic breaths, and the tears that soaked her skin with no effort.:: LCMD Reed StratOps SB118-Ops
  9. ((Starbase 118, Deck 1321)) :: Subspace storms, manifestations of elemental power, ages-old conflicts, and people being possessed were all well and good, but now that the immediate threat of the station being torn apart was over Pandora could turn her attention to what she considered more important things - like making sure the damage the starbase had sustained was made good.:: :: From the reports flooding into her, that was going to be a job that would take concerted, coordinated effort... and a lot of it. So much so, in fact, that she'd simply given up trying to handle it all by more traditional methods. Instead, she'd jacked herself into the station's LCARS network and was distributing orders, monitoring the situation, and generally staying on top of things by acting more as a data processing hub than a hands-on engineer.:: :: The fact that she had issued instructions that only truly critical messages be routed directly to her, with a strong implication that if they were *not* suitably critical the sender would find themselves being used as reactor shielding, had helped enormously.:: ((Deck 1511, Near Fusion Core 2)) Koris: This is insane. :: The Bolian's voice was virtually dripping with annoyance as he pulled a chuck of what looked like deep-fried circuitry out of one of the reactor's control relays. Neither of his colleagues disagreed with him, having already spent longer than they wanted to think about making sure the fusion plant wasn't going to incinerate half the station. Now they'd gotten in properly locked down, the job was to make it safe to start *up* again...:: Koris: Bah! To think I traded for *next* weekend off... ((Deck 464, Fighter Ordnance Storage)) :: As the last of the arming chips was locked back in a brand new storage case, the technicians around the area let out a collective sigh of relief. Sure, the things had to be actually attached to the warheads to be any real danger, but since there was a few hundred megatons of explosive armageddon packaged neatly around them none of the techs felt like taking any chances whatsoever.:: Tinkerbell: Right. Okay. Now... does anyone have any idea just *how* those detonators got scattered across half the [...]ed deck? :: The unfortunately-named team leader - all 1.9 meters of her, with a build like the dedicated body-builder she was - glared around at her crew for any sign of an answer. It was probably not for the best that none of them actually *had* one...:: ((Deck 944, Jeffries Tube)) Venk: Catch! :: The tool arced gracefully through the air, cartwheeling end over end down the weightless tube toward the other technician working on getting gravity back for the section. Barely even looking, the other Tellarite snagged it out of the air, only to gaze at it for a few moments before twisting himself around to look at his compatriot.:: Skee: Does this look like a 7-A? I asked for a 7-A, and if you don't want the Chief to get creative with you, you'll take this back and *give* me a 7-A. Venk: Sheesh. It'll fit, won't it? Just use the thing and be done with it. :: Quite calmly and deliberately, Skee launched the tool straight at Venk's head before turning back to his work. It was *good* to be working with one of his own kind for a change. Humans were just so... serious all the time.:: ((Deck 327, Exterior Hull)) :: Someone, somewhere, might have said that a pair of furry dice hanging from the top of a Workbee's [...]pit canopy was against regs, but nobody on this particular detail gave a dingo's kidneys - a phrase Sr'ell had loved the moment one of his class-mates had said it, and that the Caitian had promptly claimed as his own.:: :: Flexing his suited fingers around the control yokes, he took a deep breath and urged the tiny pod into position. A few twitches of the controls later, and the two manipulator arms clamped onto the half torn, half melted piece of hull plating the EVA-geared workers outside had cut free. A few more careful nudges, and he - and the 30 square meter lump of what had once been the station's outer shell, began backing away to make room.:: Sr'ell: =/\= Okay, Thomas, it's all yours. =/\= Thomas: =/\= Roger that, kitty-man. Fresh plate, coming in. =/\= ((Deck 1045, Promenade)) :: With a thoughtful swig from the bottle of hooch she'd "salvaged" from one of the bars damaged during the recent festivities, Kinzie watched the uniformed drones of the station's Starfleet crew rushing about trying to make sense of the chaos wreaked on the place. From her vantage point on a park railing, she had a pretty good view of one bunch who were trying to get a tree out of a hole - a hole that she distinctly recalled not being there before everything had kicked off.:: oO Good luck with that, boys. Oo :: In all honesty, she was killing time. She had a message to deliver, but the person it was meant for was probably taking his sweet time emerging from the shelters. He didn't hold his place in the station's underworld fraternity by taking stupid chances, after all...:: :: Well, actually she had *two* messages to deliver, but the one to security would have to wait until a) they weren't insanely busy and she wasn't going to get caught delivering it.:: :: The little paycheck she got from the local law was nice, but not worth getting her kneecaps busted for.:: :: Her musing was interrupted by a yell from the working fleeters, something about needing a medic. With a frown, she straightened up a bit, peering at the group to try and see what was going on... and finally spotting someone being hauled out from under the tree and looking like he'd lost a fight with a meteor strike.:: Kinzie: Sookin syn... :: The bottle went airborne, lobbed vaguely in the direction of a nearby trash can as she hopped off of the railing and scooped up the *other* thing she'd picked up during the chaos. She'd planned to get a bit of latinum for selling it off, but if anyone could use a Starfleet-issue emergency medical kit right now, it was Starfleet personnel trying to save some guy's life.:: ((Deck 1321)) :: All was proceeding in a satisfactory manner, and Pandora felt pleased that there was nothing insurmountable that her staff her encountered yet. In fact, she had been pleasantly surprised on at least three occasions - she had expected a call from the crews working the problems, but all she had received in the end was a report that the job was done.:: :: *Most* satisfactory.:: TAG -------------------- Lt. Pandora Chief Engineer Starbase 118 Operations
  10. (( Secluded beach, Risa )) :: Kamela had picked a beach house, with its back to the mountains and its front door to the ocean, providing them both with a measure of protection and seclusion. The house was small, with only a small den, kitchen, and bedroom..not that they needed much room. Just off the shores of the crystal blue water, out about one hundred yards, a small island jutted out from the surf, dotted with trees. Lying in bed with the asleep Hannibal, she tried in vain to find the scars made when T'Anas' bullets slammed into him...his dark skin and his healing abilities made the task impossible. She knew moving too much would awaken him, and she wanted to watch him sleep...something she had not really done since they had been together. Lying on his massive chest and listening to him breathe, and feeling his heart slowly beating in his chest, she was content...more than content...she was happy...and in love...:: :: Hannibal slept the sleep of babies...or children. Beings who had never known the sting of battle, the smell of death, the ballet of chaos, mayhem and destruction which had been part and parcel for most of his adult life. For the first time in years, he truly slept easily, but he still slept light as a feather as Kamela stirred on his chest. He lay with his eyes closed, feeling her weight on his chest, imagining her rise and fall with each breath. He opened his eyes, looking into hers...:: Parker:: smiling:: Morning..... Allison:: also smiling:: More like almost afternoon.. :: Hannibal did a quick calculation in his head..they got the the beach house yesterday, the day after the night in the casino and hanging out in the club till the wee hours of the morning...Hannibal had slept for almost twelve hours straight...a feat almost unheard of for him. Rolling over so that Kamela was now lying beside him, he spoke:: Parker: And...just how long did you sleep? :: Kamela couldn't lie to him. She had slept almost from the time they both hit the pillow until just a few minutes before he woke up. She felt refreshed, alive...rested....and she didn't want to leave the paradise they had found together. She knew, however, that Hannibal would never call such an idyllic place home, and she had to grudgingly accept that neither one of them could sit on the sidelines long. In short, this honeymoon was just what they needed to recharge their batteries. Playfully, she pulled the covers off of Hannibal, wrapping herself up in them, playing a game of keep away as he finally held her snug next to him...but she still had the covers...:: Allison: Remind me to thank Captain Turner for ordering you to take your wife on her honeymoon.... :: She knew Hannibal would never take much time off, especially with everything they had going on since the Klingon Invasion, and Hannibal nodded in agreement:: Parker: She was right on this one..but I worry about her.... Allison: We all do, Hannibal. We all do... Parker: Do you think she would get mad if we.... Allison: Don't say it...... :: Hannibal knew better than to keep going down that road. In truth, he knew if he returned back to Duronis before their leave time was up, he would have three women giving him hell for quite awhile...::: Parker: I won't.... Allison: Good...what do you want to do today? :: The roar of the ocean just a few yards away had an intoxicating effect. Risa was a planet of many delights, both complex and simple...right now, the simple roar of the ocean and his woman next to him was all he needed. Looking at her, and listening to the ocean outside, he had a ready answer...:: Parker: Not a [...] thing.... Allison: That's the best thing I've heard all morning.. Parker: We better enjoy it while we can...I think we are going to have more than enough to do when we get back.... :: Kamela knew he was right...when they returned to their world, they needed to be at their best...they both knew something bad was coming, and they needed to be ready for it, no matter what it was...::: Allison: True....for now, we enjoy.... Parker: Indeed we will... PNPC Lt. Commander Kamela Allison (Parker) Operative-Starfleet Intelligence/Helm Officer USS Thunder-A/ Duronis II Embassy And Major Hannibal Tiberious Parker 2nd Officer/Marine Commander/Chief Of Strategic Operations USS Thunder-A/ Duronis II Embassy
  11. ((Sickbay, USS Vigilant)) ::Everyone always said that doctors made the worst patients. Velana knew it to be true of other physicians, but she had always assumed that she was the exception, perhaps because of her innate sense of logic. It would have illogical to do any of the things that doctors usually did when they were on the other side of the tricorder such as self-diagnosing, downplaying symptoms to either get back to work or to appear tougher, or questioning their attending physician’s ability to do their job.:: ::But apparently logic went out the proverbial window when it came to her child. As Velana lay on the bio bed, waiting for Dr. Aribelle Tagren to begin a visual scan of her baby, it was all she could do to keep still.:: Velana: Can you check to see if the baby seems small? My last exam put it well within the normal range for this stage, but I’d like a second opinion. ::Aribelle turned to face her and offered a warm, reassuring smile as she, and a tech, prepared the equipment. Even if she hadn’t experienced pregnancy herself, Ari felt that she could understand what the other woman was feeling, at least on some level. Every woman wanted healthy and happy offspring, if they were to have any. And that was the most important thing of all, above any gender preference. In Velana’s case, her child was going to bring the best of two separate backgrounds. Aribelle understood that plenty well as she was a hybrid herself.:: Tagren: Of course. If it helps at all, you are measuring where you should at this point of your pregnancy. Fetal heart rate is excellent. ::The physical exam did not reveal anything concerning, either. For a hybrid pregnancy, Velana was carrying the child and herself well.:: Velana: ::releasing a pent-up breath:: That is very good to hear. Thank you. Tagren: Has your child has been plenty active? Have you been keeping track of fetal kicks? ::Velana nodded. She was entirely aware of the kicking now, but what about all the time she’d spent in alien stasis? She felt as if that precious time had been ripped away from her. Even if being unconscious had kept her emotions in balance, she had still lost out on a good chunk of her pregnancy and there was no way to get those months back.:: Velana: I have. ::She smiled.:: It usually happens when I’m trying to sleep. But then when it’s not kicking, I get nervous, so I’m already learning to live with less sleep. ::Aribelle nodded with a smile.:: Tagren: Your baby seems to be in a good position, from what I can tell, so I think you’re going to be happy with the images. Velana: I just want to see its face. I know it’s not logical, but I want to be surprised. ::She touched her belly.:: The mother of the first child I ever delivered waited until the delivery to find out the sex. The look on her face...there was something so special and wonderful about that moment. I’d like to experience that, too. Tagren: I want you to experience that as well. The birth of your first child is very special and I am here for you, every step of the way. ::Raising the head of the bed give Velana a good vantage point, Aribelle smiled again.:: Tagren: You ready? Velana: Yes. I think so. Tagren: I will keep away from images indicating the sex of the baby. I’ve also asked the computer to not reveal that information as well. Would you like a copy of these images? Velana: Um...just the face. ::Her expression softened.:: I want to see its face. ::With a warm smile, Ari nodded to her.:: Tagren: Let’s find this baby. ::Ari grinned as she moved the bed’s scanner over Velana’s abdomen. Velana tried to relax while Tagren was working, but it was hard. She was far too used to being the one carrying out the examination. But there was a tranquility about Aribelle Tagren’s bedside manner that made her want to be as good of a patient as possible.:: Velana: I read about a study on hybrid children that said they are 14% more likely to develop cosmetic abnormalities during development. Can you see anything like that? Tagren: Not at all. Your baby looks great. Velana: ::after a moment:: What about… Tagren: Doctor… Velana. ::Ari stopped the scanner for a moment and smiled warmly over to her CMO. Her patient. When she spoke, her voice was gentle.:: Tagren: You’ve been an excellent patient, following all your prenatal care. Hybrid or not, prenatal care is extremely important. You even prepared your body for this pregnancy. You’ve done everything you can possibly do. The scans performed earlier in your pregnancy don’t suggest any kind of abnormalities or anything that would be concerning. With your child being hybrid, it is considered high risk but there isn’t anything that concerns me based off the information we have. ::She paused a moment and smiled once again.:: Tagren: I am confident in that, Commander. ::She was right and Velana knew it. Taking another deep breath, she rolled her shoulders and offered the other doctor an apologetic smile.:: Velana: I’m sorry. My anxiety is getting the better of me. I should probably meditate after this. ::It was completely normal for the mother-to-be to be anxious. If it were her child, Aribelle would have read all the medical literature and educated herself to the point where she was focusing only on the extreme cases of things that could go wrong. It didn’t help when you were medical and you knew what could actually go wrong.:: ::Ari smiled warmly to Velana and nodded in front of her.:: Tagren: I think you’re going to feel much better after you see this adorable face. ::The bio bed’s sensor bar projected the image a moment later. As soon as Velana saw the three dimensional image of her baby’s head...the entire world changed.:: ::It was one thing to know the baby was there and to feel it moving, but it was another thing entirely to see its face.:: ::Two eyes, although they were tightly closed. A perfectly curved nose. Two ears, slightly less pointed than her own, but definitely not round. Sweet little lips. Cheeks that promised to be positively chubby one day.:: Velana: Oh… ::She couldn’t have kept her emotions in check even if she had wanted to. As she stared at the picture, tears welled up and spilled over.:: Tagren: Say hello to your little one. ::Ari grinned over to the dark-haired woman as she watched her bright blue eyes take in the image of her child. It was moments like these, did Aribelle truly enjoyed her job. Her ability to help. She felt honored to experience this moment with her.:: Velana: ::whispered:: I have never seen anything so beautiful in my life. Tagren: I can print this for you. Hold on a second, and I’ll capture the image... Velana: Thank you. ::She wiped away her tears, but more welled up.:: Thank you very much. For everything. Tagren: You are very welcome. That’s what I’m here for. Velana: I’m supposed to be monitoring a Parrises Squares match in an hour. ::She laughed though her tears.:: I really should get myself under control before then. ::Ari smiled, eyes sparkling with pure joy for the woman, and tucked strands of red behind her ears.:: Tagren: You take your time and enjoy this moment. They can wait. ::Easing herself off the bio-bed, Velana paused to rub her belly. In less than two months, she would get to meet this little person. She was already a mother, but at that time, motherhood would become her full-time job and being a doctor would become a part-time occupation, no matter how many hours she logged in.:: A JP by: Lt. Commander Velana Chief Medical Officer USS Vigilant & Lieutenant Aribelle Tagren Medical Officer USS Vigilant
  12. ((Lt Richards’ Quarters; Starbase118 Ops)) :: The more Alexander dwelled on things the more he realized he had been very slow to make friends on the Starbase. Sure he had colleagues who he could consider acquaintances but no one he could really call friend. Disappointing as this was to him, he had no one to blame but himself for this turn of events and resolved to rectify the situation over the coming months. After all a strongly bound crew made for a strong team. And a strong team made over coming the stresses of Starfleet life that much easier. :: :: The young man’s mind changed to thoughts of friends he had had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of during his time in the fleet. First and foremost in his mind was Eyas Wulfantine, the loveable, tall, Pythron male whom he had once broken the nose of. The last he had seen of the affectionate lug was following the classified mission to Pythro by the crew of the Mercury. Had Alexander been so wrapped in his own world that he hadn’t spoken to the big guy in nearly a year now? :: Richards: oO Impossible! Oo :: He thought to himself, trying to set his mind at ease over not having spoken to the man who had risked his life for him once, and taken the proverbial bullet when a ‘simple’ rescue mission became all fouled up after Alexander fired upon a group of klingons without orders to do so. :: Richards: oO No more excuses Alexander. it’s about time you caught up with Eyas. The man has been through far more than you could ever imagine. Oo :: With his wife currently working her shift in the expansive science department on the Starbase and John at preschool Alex reasoned he had plenty of time to make the call from the family apartment. Rolling himself away from his desk and into the living room, he moved towards the domicile’s communication device and made the request to operations to be put through to Pythro. :: ((Wulfantine Family Home; Pythro V)) ::Eyas lay motionless on his bed. The tubes and wires that punctured his skin, and fed into his open mouth made it all but impossible to move even if he was able. The pain was not as bad now as it had been when he’d first arrived home. The massive wound in his flank caused by the disruptor being fired at almost point blank range had more or less healed, thanks almost entirely due to the Borg nanites that filled his bloodstream, but such resurrection came at a cost. A [...]tail of drugs was needed to sustain his vital organs. Thankfully, since the counter coup on Pythro V, that Eyas and the crew of the Mercury had been a part of the year before, he was able to receive the best medical attention his homeworld could offer. Had he’d been injured during the previous administration, All Eyas could have expected was a bullet through the head.:: ::In the corner of the room, Eyas’ mother sat patiently, reading a book. She had barely left his side since his broken body was flown back to Pythro. She looked over at him and smiled. Eyas could do little except wince back.:: Solara Wulfantine: Do you want anything dear? ::Eyas swallowed, painfully, to clear his mouth of the buildup of phlegm caused by the tubes.:: Eyas Wulfantine: A little.. water.. mother. ::Solara attended to her son’s needs. As she did so, the vid-screen in the corner of the room, normally used for showing Eyas a variety of classic Pythron cinema to keep him from dying of boredom, pinged with an incoming call. Solara gently disconnected the mouth tube, as the Doctor had shown how to do properly, and then gently tipped the cup onto Eyas’ lips, a few drops at a time, to allow him to drink. Only once she’d done that did she go over to the console and answer the call. A face appeared she didn’t recognise, but Eyas’ eyes flashed with recognition.:: Richards: My apologies for not calling ahead. My name is Lieutenant Alexander Richards of Starfleet. I’m trying to get in touch with an old friend, Eyas Wulfantine. I was told that you were the point of contact. ::Solara looked over her shoulder to her son, and saw his face lift a little.:: Solara Wulfantine: Yes, Eyas is with me. I am his mother, Solara Wulfantine. As you may know, my son was badly injured on his last mission. Richards: I am very sorry to hear that. How has he been coping? ::Solara gave Eyas another quick glance. He was being so brave, but the prognosis was not good. She daren’t tell him though.:: Solara Wulfantine: He is being wonderful. As strong as his father during the wars, but he has to stay here and rest for now. :: This concerned Alexander. Eyas despite being the lovable lug of the group, was always full of courage and honor. He was the first man into battle and the last man off the field. Alexander had always admired the way Eyas dealt with his former medical condition that caused him to revert into a monstrous lizard during times of extreme stress or when exposed to various environmental conditions. To hear he was incapacitated was upsetting. :: Richards: Before I speak to your son, what can you tell me about the situation on Pythro now? Have things changed for the better or are the problems still ongoing? ::Solara sighed and looked down at the ground. The situation had been turbulent to say the least. Her own imprisonment under the terror of Inquisitor General LeNoir had been bad enough, and it was only thanks to the efforts of Eyas and his friends that she was free.:: Solara Wulfantine: It is common knowledge I believe that the Inquisitor fell from favour here on Pythro and President J’Eyga called the bulk of the army back from Byzatium. Things are more peaceful now, and my family is no longer under censure. However, the Inquisitor never truly left the scene and is now Viceroy in the Occupied Territories. The war goes on. So much needless suffering on both sides. :: Alexander could understand the woman’s fear and hesitation to speak about such things. From the parts of the mission he had been able to read about and previous conversations with Eyas, Solara had been through a lot over the past several years and there was still a threat that things could get worse before they got better. Finally, Eyas was ready to take the call. Alexander decided he would thank the man’s mother for her time before conversing with his old friend. :: Richards: Thank you for your time Mrs Wulfantine. :: Nothing could prepare Alexander for the sight he was about to witness. It certainly put his own disability into perspective and showed just how much the young Pythron had sacrificed for his world and his mother. It took all of his inner strength not to cry at what he was seeing. He opened his mouth to speak, the shaking and low volume of his voice betraying his current feelings. :: Richards: Eyas my old friend. I knew you had been injured but nobody ever told me how bad it really was. :: Alexander took a long pause trying to regain his composure. :: The sacrifices you have made for your mother and your people. :: Another pause as he began to choke up with tears, finally letting go. :: It should serve as an inspiration to all of us who know you. ::Eyas’ once full and healthy features were now very emaciated. His long lustrous hair, was lank and matted, or at least the bits that hadn’t already fallen out. His injury may only have been to his torso, but the recovery process from what would have killed a man not swimming with nanite blood was not much better than death itself. Eyas’ hoarse croaked voice almost gurgled out of his throat.:: Eyas Wulfantine: Alex… my friend. ::Eyas tried to raise his head, but had neither the strength, nor the freedom of movement to do much.:: Richards: :: Wiping the stream of tears from his eyes with his left sleeve. :: I’m sorry my old friend. I am truly sorry. :: He took a deep breath and cleared his eyes again. :: You never deserved any of this. You were only doing the right thing. I would argue until the cows come home, as we humans say, with anyone who said this was a result of your own selfish pride or arrogance. :: Pausing again, this time to think very carefully of his next words. :: You did what had to be done, what any man or woman in your situation would have done. We :: Another choke. : That is to say your friends only travelled with you because we believed in the whole of your cause. You know as I said then that but for my disability I would have been right there with you. :: Alexander took a much longer pause this time as he welled up again and began to wail. :: Richards: If only I hadn’t had that accident, maybe I could have prevented what happened whilst you were serving on the vigilant. Maybe I could have saved you from this fate. :: Again the young man paused fighting back tears trying to calm himself. :: I feel terrible for having ever felt sorry for my current situation old friend. Hell, I still feel sorry for doubting myself when I look at what you and others have achieved. :: He stopped himself :: But telling you this isn’t going to brighten your mood and all things considered is rather selfish of me. :: Richards finally managed to regain control of his emotions enough to stop crying. Though he was still visibly distressed. :: ::Eyas saw his friend’s sadness. Eyas didn’t want nor deserve anyone’s sorrow. He had pushed Major Handley-Page out of the way of the phaser blast by choice. He was just doing his duty.:: Eyas Wulfantine: Don’t… cry…. Alex. ::Solara wiped a cold damp cloth over her son’s forehead. It was really the only thing she could do for him right now.:: Richards: It’s hard old friend. Call it a human weakness if you will but we tend to find it very difficult to see our friends in difficult, heart breaking situations. However I can rest easy knowing that despite your condition, you have your mother to look after you and it is quite obvious her love for you is as deep as yours for her. ::Eyas managed a slight smile, his cracked lips bending as best they might.:: Eyas Wulfantine: ::coughing:: You.. all… right? Richards: I can’t complain about my situation old friend. Especially not in front of you. Currently serving as the assistant chief science officer of Starbase 118. Of course I’m defacto department head at the moment as the base still hasn’t had a new chief assigned. Has anybody else been in contact with you from the fleet? I would hate to think I was the only person to have contacted you since your current situation arose. ::Eyas blinked, slowly. There had been a few calls, but not as many as he’d hoped. It was a big galaxy, and people were busy, he guessed.:: Eyas Wulfantine: No… but good to….. see. you, old … friend. ::Eyas had to pause as another coughing fit struck him. Solara moved over to mop up the phlegm.:: Eyas Wulfantine: Ops? Depart..ment head? Good. Maybe.. you visit... me? Richards: As far as I have come as a person old friend, I still yearn for the glory days of old. The tales we could tell of adventures we had in the short time we served with each other. I will have to come and see you at some point this year. I know the entire region of space around Pythro is still unstable but, some things are worth taking risks for. Though I doubt Starfleet would be too impressed if my presence on Pythro caused any unnecessary trouble. :: Alex shuffled in his chair to prevent his lower back from going numb. He still found it difficult to look at his old friend but the more he talked, the easier it was becoming to come to terms with the gravity of his situation. :: ::Eyas noticed, even in his slightly blurred vision, that Alex was looking slightly fidgety. Eyas remembered Alex had been injured during the battle of Deep Space Ten. The two men had lost contact to a more or less greater degree since their respective transfers, but Eyas was concerned for his friend. Was he still in a wheelchair, almost a year later?.:: Eyas Wulfantine: Alex… your legs? You… not better? :: The question Alex had hoped his old friend wouldn’t ask finally came up. It would have been one thing to tell a proud Eyas Wulfantine at the peak of health that he was still disabled, but in his current condition. Alexander knew the Pythron male would find it upsetting. :: Richards: oO Of all the questions. it had to be that one. Oo :: Alexander took a long pause as he composed himself to answer the question. He wasn’t quite sure how to voice his current situation without causing Eyas unnecessary stress and anguish. :: Richards: Despite a good prognosis after the initial incident on Deep Space 10 my old friend, relatively little has changed. I am due for another meeting regarding my current condition with Starbase 118’s resident CMO, Lieutenant Commander Solok but in all honesty I don’t hold out much hope. :: Another long pause. This time to dwell on the reality of the situation. It wasn’t as if Starfleet medical had been dragging their heels over the situation. Medical scientists on Earth, Starbase 118 and other notable institutions had been researching his ailment. :: Richards: But whatever happens I know my family and colleagues will always be supportive of me. ::Eyas was saddened. It looked like the two of them had more in common than just a uniform and a shared adventure.:: Eyas Wulfantine: I am.. sorry.. for you, Alex. ::He coughed again, a little blood being brought up.:: Eyas Wulfantine: Any hope… for cure? :: A very difficult question to answer. Alexander had to keep hoping for a cure but the longer he was waiting, the smaller the chances became. :: Richards: I have to keep hoping my old friend. The best Starfleet has to offer is working on my case. If there is a cure, they will find it. How about you Eyas. Is there ever a chance of you recovering? :: Alex was almost 99% sure he knew the answer already but had to ask. Eyas’ eyes narrowed at the word *chance*. In truth, he had been told relatively little from his Doctors.:: Eyas Wulfantine: I don’t… know. I just take… it.. hour by hour. :: And there was the confirmation of his worst fears. Alexander couldn’t shake the feeling that the universe had done his friend a great injustice but at the same time he knew Eyas wouldn’t have it any other way. His actions had saved a fellow officer from what would almost certainly have been a fatal disruptor blast. Brave and courageous as always. Before Alexander could ask another question Solara once again appeared in front of the main view screen. :: Solara Wulfantine: I am sorry Mr Richards, but Eyas must rest. It was great of you to call. :: As much as Alexander wished to spend more time speaking with his friend he understood Solara’s position. He was grateful for the time she had been able to give him. :: Richards: I understand Mrs Wulfantine. Thankyou for allowing me this time with your son. Solara Wulfantine: It is no problem. Please do call again. ::Eyas blinked and smiled.:: Eyas Wulfantine: Good bye… Alex. :: And with that, the line of communication was closed. Alex shed another tear, resolving that next time he wouldn’t leave it so long between communications. He also put it into his mind that he would get to Pythro before the year was out to pay his friend a visit. Of course he was well aware that might be easier said than done given the current political climate there. :: ::Solara mopped Eyas’ brow once again, hoping the effort of talking hadn’t hurt him too much. Reluctantly, she replaced the tube into his mouth and throat, and kissed him on his forehead.:: ::: Finally, after having spent several minutes in front of the blank monitor Alexander began to roll himself away towards the kitchen. Before the elementals had attacked the station, Marissa had managed to source some amazing coffee beans from one of the stations many arboretums. He didn’t bother to ask exactly what there genus was. He probably wouldn’t have cared about it anyways. All he knew was that they made a far better coffee than anything the replicator was able to produce. :: :: The surfaces in the Richards apartment were specially adapted so that Alexander (and by extension, his son, John) could use them. He took his freshly brewed drink and placed it in a cup holder on his lap before turning to face the door and gently rolling himself towards his study. January meant crew evaluations were due and he had a rather large department to oversee. Of course this meant putting in extra hours beyond his normal shift pattern but, it didn’t bother him. He would rather be working than spending his free time alone and bored. :: :: As he picked up the next PADD his mind wandered back to his old friend Eyas and his current state. Seeing him like that had reminded Alex just how short and precious life was and just how important friendships are. As he browsed Ensign Ireya Ilwary’s file with a smile he resolved to contact both Lieutenant Commander Roshanara Rahman and Lieutenant Commander Velana to catch up with them. It really had been too long since his accident and subsequent departure from the USS Mercury since he last talked with either of them. :: To Be Continued… JP: By Lt. Alexander Richards Asst. Chief Science Officer: SB118 Ops & LtCmdr Eyas Wulfantine (PNPC) Former Chief Tactical Officer; USS Mercury http://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=Wulfantine,_Eyas Simmed by: LtCmdr Leo Handley-Page Tactical/Security Chief: USS Garuda SB118 Podcast Team Facilitator
  13. ((CMO’s Office, Main Sickbay, USS Garuda))::Working with his door open as was his habit, Saveron looked up as a figure eclipsed the view of Sickbay beyond. The face, though familiar, was one to which he would have attributed a very low probability of seeing in that particular location. It belonged to a crewmember with whom he’d had little to do beyond the necessary.::::The Vulcan doctor rose to his feet.::Saveron: Sochya Captain Reynolds.::He offered the ta’al, she replied with a nod.::Saveron: Since your next physical examination is not yet due one can only conclude that you have come seeking myself. How may I assist you?::He gestured to one of the two chairs that faced his desk in silent offer. If he was being overly officious it was perhaps because he was having difficulty anticipating what, exactly, might have brought Quinn to his office. There was also something in the principles behind Intelligence that he found disagreeable, but he'd had no cause to think the same about the person in that position.::::She didn't take a seat, preferring to remain standing. Instead, she stood behind it, hands resting lightly on the back of the chair. It took her a few moments to speak, a slight frown on her face as she picked through the words she wanted to say.::Reynolds: You were one of the last people to see Aron, before he left.::A blunt, matter-of-fact statement, but her tone was cautious.::Saveron: Affirmative.::The Vulcan allowed. He noted her unrelaxed body language, the faint frown. Clearly the issues surrounding Captain Kells were not ones which she found agreeable. He remained standing out of deference to her rank, clasping his hands behind his back in what was, for him, a relaxed posture.::Reynolds: What happened?::It was a broad, open-ended question, requiring interpretation in context.::Saveron: Captain Kells dismissed all but myself and Commander Rahman to immediate transport to the USS Garuda. He then informed us that he had resigned his commission. He had personal messages for both myself and Commander Rahman, and asked that we convey his apologies to yourself and Commander Ross for his recent behaviour. The five minutes that he had requested elapsed and Commander Rahman and myself were beamed out, leaving Aron Kells in the William Schirra.::He regarded Captain Reynolds soberly for a moment.::Saveron: I anticipate that answers your question without answering your questions.Reynolds: Indeed.Saveron: If you can elaborate, I may be able to provide more specific answers.Reynolds: When he got back from the hearing, we spoke — if you can call it that. We've been friends for years, we've known each other for longer than that, and I've never known him to be that... vicious.Saveron: He was particularly intolerant.::The Vulcan had even said as much to Aron’s face.::Reynolds: I don't know what he said to you in that shuttle, and I'm not asking you to betray his trust, but I just wondered… ::she shook her head.:: I don't understand what happened to him.Saveron: What he said to me has no bearing on your question, but other factors may.::How much of those he could reveal was an important question. There was the issue of patient confidentiality. Still, Captain Reynolds might already know more than most.::Saveron: You state that you yourself are a friend of Aron Kells. Are you then familiar with his ‘Ring’ temporal events?Reynolds: Both of them, yes.Saveron: Are you also familiar with the events following the death of Captain Spock aboard the USS Enterprise-A and the subsequent attempted committal of Doctor McCoy?::The question caught her off-guard and she didn't immediately answer, frowning as she watched him.::Reynolds: Go on.Saveron: Captain Spock transferred his katra to Doctor McCoy immediately prior to his death by radiation poisoning. Doctor McCoy subsequently displayed disturbed behaviour as a direct result.Reynolds: You're saying it's… similar? The same?Saveron: Even with Vulcan mental training, carrying another’s katra is a heavy burden and bearable only for a brief period. In addition to advancing his age by several decades — which in itself would be difficult to resolve — he took on the memories and personalities of his other selves; in Vulcan terms, their katras.Reynolds: He did say there were three of him in there.Saveron: It is my opinion that the only reason that Aron Kells maintained a successful mental equilibrium is that the katras he carried were his own.::That, perhaps, might be closer to the answer that she sought.::Reynolds: ::Quietly,:: I'm not entirely sure he was successful. ::Saveron wasn't either.::Saveron: I am not privy to Aron’s thoughts, however one might deduce that recent missions and the aborted hearing by Starfleet JAG may have initiated a change in perspective.::She raised her eyebrows, a tiny smile flickering across her lips — but only for a moment.::Reynolds: *May* have?::That earned her a quirk of one upswung brow.::Saveron: You consider that outcome probable. ::He deduced.:: I will defer to your knowledge of Terran psychology.::It was hardly his strong point. Sometimes members of other species thought the most illogical things.::Reynolds: Did he say why he was leaving?Saveron: Negative. You consider the reason important?Reynolds: I don't know. ::She paused, bouncing the heel of her hand off the back of the chair.:: A part of me's sore I didn't this coming. The rest of me's worried that… well. Whether he's going to be alright out there, alone.::That was a concern that they shared, however much the Vulcan might keep that to himself.::Saveron: I… do not know. ::He admitted quietly.:: However I anticipate that Aron would claim that he is never alone.Reynolds: True, but that's part of the problem.Saveron: Nevertheless, he does have three lifetimes of experience upon which to draw. And he knows where his friends are, should he have need of us.::She looked at him for a long time, then broke eye contact and nodded, breathing a resigned sigh.::Reynolds: You're right.::For a moment the doctor wore that thin-lipped look that was as close as he came to looking unhappy.::Saveron: It would be preferable, if we could do more.::But with Aron gone AWOL there wasn’t much they could do unless he contacted them.::Reynolds: It would. But for now, I'll leave you be. Thank you.::She'd already turned and taken a step toward the door when he spoke again.::Saveron: Captain Reynolds.::She turned back to him.::Reynolds: Doctor?Saveron: I believe there is a Terran expression; ‘A friend of my friend is a friend of mine’.::The Vulcan was not particularly good at relating to others, the cultural divide could be so very wide. Yet in Captain Reynolds he thought recognised someone who also stood distant. The question was whether that distance was deliberate?::::She breathed a wry huff of a laugh before she answered.::Reynolds: It's something along those lines. ::She nodded,:: I'd like that.Saveron: I also would find such agreeable.Reynolds: Then I'll catch you later, Saveron.Saveron: Dif-tor heh smusma, Quinn.-------------------------A JP byCaptain Quinn ReynoldsDirector of IntelligenceUSS GarudaandLieutenant Commander SaveronChief Medical OfficerUSS Garuda
  14. (( First Officer's Quarters, USS Garuda )) ::Discharged from sickbay, sleep was now taking up a great deal of his leave time. It wasn't an unpleasant circumstance, and he was aware that he needed the time to rest and recuperate. Tomorrow, he would be back in uniform for a ribbon presentation, but for now, he was living in pyjamas, stealing naps whenever it suited him, and pottering about his new quarters on the Garuda. ::That had come as something of a shock. He'd believed Quinn, of course, when she'd told him of the damage to the Mercury. But *seeing* it… that was something else. He'd known right then, that the Mercury wouldn't be exploring the stars again any time soon, but to find out he was being transferred directly over to the Garuda… yes. A shock. ::When the chime on his door rang, he was sleeping again, laid out on a sofa, drooling like a champion on one of the cushions. A PADD lay on his chest, rising and falling with every breath, an aborted attempt to catch up with his reading. ::It took another buzz from the door to wake him, the PADD bouncing off the floor as he sat up in a dazed startle. He grimaced as he swung his long legs to the floor and stood, wiping the back of his hand across his cheek and jaw. Lovely. ::What a sight he must be. The crazed hair and bleary eyes of the recently woken, a few days of too-sore-can't-be-bothered-to-shave stubble, barefoot and dressed only in a creased t-shirt and pyjama pants. A far cry from the usual crisp and perfectly pressed Harrison Ross. ::It was only natural, then, that when the doors parted, it was the object of his affections stood outside.:: REYNOLDS: I promised you a conversation. ::He laboured for an answer, thrown by her presence. After their conversation in sickbay, she had been the last person he had expected to drop by.:: ROSS: You did. ::He stepped back, fully aware that he was doing a poor job of hiding his surprise.:: Come in. ::He set off toward the replicator once she'd stepped inside, flipping the drool-marked cushion over as he passed the sofa.:: ROSS: I need a coffee. Would you like something? REYNOLDS: No, no. I'm fine. ::He threw her a look on his way to the replicator, raising his eyebrows. From what he could see, he suspected that she'd barely slept since he'd last seen her and was in dire need of caffeine. ::Or a bed, but that took his mind to places it ought best not go.:: REYNOLDS: Look, I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to spit it out. ::He braced himself, taking his black coffee from the replicator and playing it casual by sipping from the mug, watching her over the rim.:: REYNOLDS: It's not that I don't— There was someone. He was— ::She frowned, avoiding his gaze.:: He died. And I don't know that— I don't know if I... ::She fumbled over her words, avoiding his eyes, actually wringing her hands together, anything but the cool and collected Starfleet officer he was used to.:: ROSS: ::Softly,:: You loved him. REYNOLDS: Yes. ROSS: For a long time? ::She hesitated, and then— :: REYNOLDS: ...yes. ::He had all the questions in the world. Who was this man? Had he been a father to her son? How had he died? When had he died? ::But he thought better than to voice any of them, walking over to the sofa and perching on the arm rest.:: ROSS: Look, if you're not ready to move on, I'm not going to be that guy who tries to push the issue. ::She nodded quickly, uncertain relief on her face.:: But... there's a difference between not being ready, and holding on to the past. ::She sat down, then immediately sprang up again, too full of nervous energy to stay in the one spot. Instead, she paced behind him, her gaze on the stars outside. He let her walk, taking another sip of his coffee as he formulated his next question.:: ROSS: Let me ask you this. All complications and baggage aside — do you want me? ::He didn't look back, but he heard her footsteps pause. He waited, still supping from his mug, working hard at looking considerably more casual than he felt.:: REYNOLDS: ::Quietly,:: I do. ::Now he turned, and found her looking over her shoulder at him.:: ROSS: Then let's just go for it. REYNOLDS: But I'm not good at... this. At the best of times, I'm not good at this, and it's a long way from the best of times. ::He couldn't help but smile, though her worried expression didn't shift.:: ROSS: Quinn, I'm twice divorced — I'm proven lousy. We'll figure it out, or we won't. I'd rather try and fail, than never try at all. REYNOLDS: With apologies to Tennyson? ::Two could play that game. He grinned at her and placed a hand over his heart, speaking in low, sonorous tone.:: ROSS: I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it when I sorrow most; 'Tis better to have loved and lost; Than never to have loved at all. ::Her face was a picture: surprise, annoyance and a hint of amusement, all rolled into one.:: REYNOLDS: You can be really obnoxious, you know that? ROSS: I most certainly do. Tell me you don't find it charming. REYNOLDS: I don't find it charming. ROSS: Liar. ::A smile dawned on her face, even as she shook her head in mild despair. He smiled back, then stood, depositing his coffee mug on the table, and walked around the sofa to stand with her. She was anxious, or nervous, or some other variation on that theme; he saw her swallow as he approached, her breath coming more rapidly than before. ::He reached for her, tentatively brushing a stray wisp of soft, fine hair from her brow. As his fingers trailed down the side of her face, he noticed there was an old, neat scar on her left temple, and he wondered what had left it. This near to her, he could see the detail in her hazel eyes; an inner, golden-brown ring that crowned a dark green iris. ::Just so. Outside as well as in, there was so much more to Quinn Reynolds when she let you in close. ::It was only when her hand alighted on his chest that he realised how hard his heart was pounding. ::He wasn't sure who moved first; whether he had pulled her to him, she had stepped in to him, or some melding of the two. That same sense of delighted confusion didn't pass as their lips met, his fingers tangling in her hair as he held her close. Sensations and needs that didn't belong to him began to bleed into his mind, until he couldn't tell where his thoughts ended and hers began, and they were both lost to the naked desire of the moment. ::His hand was already at the fastening of her uniform tunic when he broke the kiss, murmuring a question he already knew the answer to.:: ROSS: Stay with me tonight? ::The inevitable yes wasn't spoken; it came in the form of a shy, cheeky grin that vanished behind the material of his t-shirt as she pulled it up and over his head. Before it hit the carpet, she was back in his arms, and it was in each other's arms that they passed the rest of the night.:: --Commander Harrison RossFirst OfficerUSS Garuda simmed by Captain Quinn ReynoldsDirector of IntelligenceUSS Garuda
  15. (( Holana Orphanage, Musilla Province, Bajor )) :: Holana orphanage was on fire. It filled Essen’s senses - the acrid smell of smoke, the sound of the crackling flames, the intense oppressive heat pressing down on her.Ess shook her head in confusion. What was she doing back on Bajor? This wasn’t right, the orphanage had never caught fire when she’d lived there. :: CINDER: So this is where you‘ve been lurking? Pretty dull place, really, I’m glad I could make it more interesting. No need to thank me. :: A blazing figure strode out of the grove of Jumja trees. As she did so the trees burst into flames, adding a spiced perfume to the hot smoke around them. Essen squinted - although the shifting flames made it hard to make out any features there was still something about the other woman’s build, the way she walked. :: SINDA: You’re me? CINDER: Sort of. ::shrugging:: I’m parts of you. Or parts of you have shaped me anyway. It’s complicated. SINDA: I remember you now. You’re the entity from the ion storm aren’t you? You used my body, used it to burn the station. ::she gestured to the landscape around her:: This place isn’t real, so why bring me here? CINDER: You’re mistaken. This is the memory you’ve been hiding in since I arrived. I didn’t bring you here, you brought me. SINDA: Did I? How? :: Essen narrowed her eyes:: I thought you were the one in control. CINDER: Well… SINDA: They’re beating you, aren’t they? When the rock one was smashing you to pieces I remember, I was conscious for a moment. ::she rubbed her sore ribs absently at the memory:: It’s happening to you now isn’t it? :: The fiery woman seemed shift uncomfortably for a moment. :: CINDER: I may have underestimated my brothers. But that doesn’t mean… SINDA: You’re losing. :: Cinder laughed, her hair raising to form a red halo around her head. :: CINDER: I do not lose! Cinder never… :: Essen cut her off. :: SINDA: Really? If you’re not losing, why are you hiding out in my memories? And how come you’re not burning me to ashes, that’s your normal threat isn’t it? Face it, Cinder, Rock-boy and Ice-man battered the crap out of you. :: They faced each other warily. :: SINDA: I can sense your memories now, Cinder. You got too arrogant. You never plan ahead, you only live for the moment. Typical of a fire, all about power, all about what you can get right now. CINDER: Is that so? SINDA: Like now. Overconfident, and that’s why I’m going to defeat you. CINDER: You can’t beat me, you idiot, I am you! All your anger and rage, all those thoughts and emotions you hide away from everyone else! That’s why I chose you, your fire gives me power. It would give you power, too, if you let it. SINDA: No. ::shaking her head:: You’re lying. CINDER: I was shaped by you, I just gave you the spark you needed to start the inferno burning. Go on, admit it, there’s part of you that likes the power, isn’t there? :: Essen bunched her fist and lashed out, sending Cinder sprawling into the dust. :: SINDA: Huh, that did feel kind of good. I guess you weren’t lying after all. :: The fire woman looked up from where she lay, her form flickering and changing as if seen through a heat wave. She suddenly looked a lot less like Sinda Essen now. :: SINDA: The balance of power has changed, Cinder. :: Ess grabbed the creature and hauled it upright. The flames wreathed Essen’s arm but only tingled rather than burnt. She clenched her fist and punched Cinder again and again, forcing her to stagger back towards the Jumja trees. :: SINDA: You should run, Cinder, find somewhere else to hide. This place isn’t safe for you. I can feel your weakness. And you know what? I think I’ll take my body back now. :: Ess span and planted a firm kick in Cinder’s chest sending her fiery form flying into the middle of the grove where she merged with the flames. Ess thought she caught a faint cry of frustration before the fires went out completely. In the blink of an eye the orphanage stopped burning and the smoke dispersed. Ess sighed deeply and closed her eyes. :: SINDA: It’s over… :: Behind her, unseen, a single orange ember twinkled amongst the shadows of the burnt trees. :: (( SB118 - Docking Bay )) :: With the immense roar of a forest fire a burst of yellow and orange flames streaked through the air directly towards the amulet leaving one last moment of chaos in its wake. Essen opened her eyes slowly. The pain in her sides and limbs was incredible, more than one broken bone most likely, but at least she was breathing. Glancing down, she clenched her singed right fist, feeling the familiar dull ache of the old injury.She was back. :: Lieutenant Sinda Essen Fleet Operations Starbase 118 Ops
  16. ((Holodeck 2, USS Garuda))) ::She had finally managed to untangle herself from the questions of the Counselor. While Alora understood it was his job, she just didn’t feel comfortable divulging her troubles to him. Maybe once she got to know him a little better she might feel differently, but for now, she was fine simply confiding in her friends. One of those friends just happened to be a certain Vulcan Chief medical Officer whom she knew waited on the holodeck along with his son. The ‘evaluation’ such as it was had taken more time than she expected, so she arrived a minute or so later than planned. While it wasn’t the end of the world, Alora hated to be late, even for something as informal as friends exploring with the holodeck. Well, she was there finally and she was just going to relax and enjoy spending time with good company.:: ::When the holodeck doors opened, the air from the corridor whistled past Alora and into the Holodeck, a symptom of the lower air pressure. What air was present was both baking and desiccating, the temperature being well above the comfort level of most species and the relative humidity almost non-existent.:: ::As the doors hissed shut Alora was faced with a balcony over a dizzying view; they were sixty-four stories up. Other sky-scraping buildings rose around them, and beyond those the vast, red, sandy plains dotted by only the occasional hardy shrub or thin grass. After a few miles even those petered out, leaving nothing but the burning sands all the way to the mountains. Two Vulcans stood by the railing, both wearing much lighter robes than previously and obviously at home in the heat. They both had a healthy green flush to their cheeks and two green spots were visible on the back of Saveron's neck in the instant before they both turned to look in her direction. Saveron had already disabled his universal translator.:: Saveron: Dif-tor heh smusma, and welcome to Vulcan. ::Or at least an acceptable simulation. Saavok made the ta'al in the same motion as his father.:: ::Alora repeated the greeting, then gingerly took a step forward. The view almost made her dizzy. Even though she was millions of miles high and away in space, for some reason, that particular situation set her on edge and made her uneasy. Perhaps it was far too obvious of a freefall drop down, and the knowledge of what would happen if she met the ground by launching from the ledge - purposefully or not. Saveron: If the atmospheric conditions become uncomfortable I can alter them. ::That would not, of course, give the authentic Vulcan experience.:: DeVeau: What? Oh, no. ::Alora retreated a step away from the ledge. She'd get used to the height, but it would be a few moments. That didn't mean she'd necessarily dare to actually go all the way to the edge.:: DeVeau: No, you should make it just like Vulcan. Speaking of which, where are we? Saveron: This is ShirKhar, considered the Capital of Vulcan. It is the cultural centre of the Golic peoples, located on the site of an ancient water source in the Shi'al region. To the north is the Womb of Fire and the Caves of Kohlinar, to the west is Mount Selaya. ::Which was quite famous as a centre of Vulcan mental discipline, the greatest temple to the religion that Vulcans didn't have.:: DeVeau: Womb of Fire? Is that a volcanic chain? ::Alora dared to retake the step she had given up and eyed the ledge with great caution. That step was as far as she advanced - at least, for the moment.:: Saveron: It is a rift in the planet’s crust where magma wells to the surface. The safeties are engaged. ::He commented mildly, observing Alora's trepidation. They couldn't fall from the balcony, and the view was a simulation in any case.:: DeVeau: Yeah. I know. ::Her head knew that. Logically, there was no way she could suffer injury. That didn't mean that her emotions were going to follow logic - something she knew the Vulcan probably wouldn't understand.:: Saveron: This was our apartment, before I left Vulcan. ::He said simply.:: DeVeau: Really? Wow. It's...high. ::Granted, Tokyo had its share of high buildings, but Alora didn't visit them that often, and when she did she kept away from the windows for the most part. The view consisted of far more development than Vulcan, and lights kept the city aglow at all hours of the day. It was never silent in Tokyo, there was a constant hush from various automobiles and foot traffic that, though it was lighter at certain points, never fully died down. She wondered how much this place was like that.:: DeVeau: Do you miss it? ::Alora missed Japan. And Atlanta. At the same time, she was far too fascinated with what lay beyond her own world to remain there.:: ::The doctor considered the question. To most people he would simply have stated that a sentimental attachment to a location would be illogical, but somewhere along the line he'd stopped feeling the need to uphold strict Vulcan propriety around Alora. Perhaps because she did not, perhaps because he considered her a friend. Aron Kells had earned that same honesty.:: Saveron: I do not regret leaving ShirKahr. ::He said after a moment.:: I found the culture here disagreeable. Prior to ShirKahr we lived in my ancestral home in Kal-an. I considered it preferable to remain there, however the facilities for studying Xenomedicine were lacking. T'Rel also wished to further her studies at the Temple. ::He nodded towards distant Mount Selaya.:: DeVeau: T'Rel? ::The name was not one she heard him speak before. She cast a sidelong glance at the Vulcan and he met her gaze, grey eyes to green, with the completely flat expression his people wore when they suppressed all emotion.:: Saveron: Saavok’s mother. ::He said quietly.:: My previous bond-mate. DeVeau: Oh. ::Alora wasn’t sure what to say. She hadn’t meant to bring up what must be a painful subject, even if Saveron didn’t want to admit it. Or had she? Alora had to admit she’d been wildly curious, but at the same time, she didn’t want to cause any pain to her friend.:: DeVeau: I’m sorry. ::The young woman reached out to place a gentle hand upon his arm. It was just a light touch, an attempt to sooth and comfort.:: ::Saveron looked down at Alora but did not shy away, despite the fact that most Vulcans preferred to avoid casual physical contact. He found that he did not find it disagreeable. It did cause him to realise that his economy of words might have led her to an incorrect conclusion.:: Saveron: She is not dead. ::He told her quietly.:: She chose another. I elected to have our bond severed rather than face kun-ut-kal-if-fee. I considered it more logical. ::The right of challenge was a hold-over from pre-Surak days, and a tenacious one. Sometimes there were situations where logic was not enough.:: ::That was worse. DeVeau knew enough about Vulcan culture to understand the significance of what had occurred. It was far more serious than divorce. Her death would have been easier to deal with, she was certain.:: DeVeau: I’m still sorry. She shouldn’t have let go of someone like you. ::He made no secret of the facts of the situation, but no one had responded quite like Alora had. It was an alien reaction, and for a moment he pondered how to acknowledge such. Briefly he laid his other hand on her arm, careful to touch fabric and not skin.:: Saveron: Thank you. ::Perhaps alien sentiments were best answered with alien words.:: ::Alora smiled, but it held a hint of sorrow to it, as if somehow she had managed to share in the pain that such an event had caused. But how could she know? She had never experienced anything akin to what he had, but she knew it couldn’t have been easy and it couldn’t have been without heartache, Vulcan or no. Her reaction to his touch on her sleeve was automatic. Like when she had taken Saavok’s hand, she didn’t really think. Her free hand rose, her fingers curled over his as skin touched skin:: ::The contact made Saveron shiver. Many other species made casual physical contact and Terrans were particularly fond of it. It was why many Vulcans in Starfleet, lacking voluminous sleeves into which to tuck their hands, opted for the hands-behind-back stance when working around them. It avoided those awkward scenarios where one was inadvertently confronted with another’s thoughts.:: ::As those cool fingers closed over his own he felt a sense of sorrow not his own, and curiosity, and the knowledge that one didn’t, couldn’t know. Perhaps Alora understood better than many. It had been months since he had touched any mind but his son’s, and though the contact was unexpected it was not unwelcome; for a brief moment he opened his mind to hers, answered her question.:: ::Two halves of a whole, suddenly separated. Rejection by a part of one’s self. Where there had been the sense of another for the majority of his life - her mind and yes, her emotions, hidden from others - there was only emptiness. Loss. Irreconcilable grief. But before all that a wall. Iron self-control that separated emotion from thought, feeling from action. And, over time, the wound had healed, though it had left a welt of scar tissue.:: ::A moment later he pulled away from her touch, tucked his hands back into his sleeves.:: ::Alora stepped back and inhaled deeply. The exchange had been intense and revealing. She’d ‘seen’ him in a way she was certain no one else had, not even T’Rel. For him to have done so was odd, but she was also honoured. He had allowed her touch, accepted it, and shared an intimate part of himself. And yet, he had also broken the contact. Alora would not initiate a second time. As it was, she had already overstepped her bounds and she made a mental note to be more careful and not let her guard down so easily. She was forgetting herself around him and she had to remember proper etiquette around Vulcans, even ones she called friend.:: DeVeau: I’m sorry. ::But that time it was her own actions she was apologising for.:: ::Saveron only shook his head.:: Saveron: It is I who must apologise. ::He had reacted not from logic, but something far baser. He missed that mental contact, and wanted it. But he had to remember that for Terrans, such physical contact was casual; social niceties and no more. For Vulcans with their touch telepathy, it was intimate. He had sensed when she made that touch that it had been an idle gesture. He should not have taken advantage of it.:: DeVeau: No. You have nothing to apologise for. ::She smiled, not quite so bright, but sincere none the less.:: DeVeau: I’ll try to be better. ::That earned her another of those slightly thoughtful looks that usually indicated he was trying to puzzle out her meaning.:: Saveron: I did not object. ::He said at last.:: DeVeau: No. ::Her reply was soft.:: But I… ::She trailed off. Alora had a feeling she wasn’t going to win the argument and really, it was probably best to simply move on.:: ::Saveron was of the same mind as he voiced his next question. As he turned away he was aware that Saavok was watching them with that same blank expression that his father sometimes wore when he didn’t quite understand what was going on.:: Saveron: Do you harbour a preference for certain places on Terra? Saveron: Do you harbour a preference for certain places on Terra? ::He wouldn't do her the discourtesy of implying she was being emotional by asking whether she 'missed' a place. By the same token he had come to understand that Terrans meant no offence when they used such terms.:: DeVeau: Yeah. Atlanta and Japan. Japan more so, but...I love doing what I do - even if I haven't been doing it for long. The prospect of exploration and discovery, of learning, holds far too much appeal to keep me on Terra. ::That was a sentiment that Saveron understood well.:: ::Alora turned her gaze to the child who had been almost invisible thanks to his silence. She wouldn't forget him, however.:: DeVeau: You've been rather quiet. Do you hold memories of Vulcan? ::Saavok turned to regard Alora with that same quiet, thoughtful look his father often wore.:: Saavok: Affirmative. I lived on Vulcan until I was two and a third Vulcan cycles. ::Which equated to six Terran years.:: I grew up in ShirKahr. We lived in that building. ::He pointed to another tall, ochre-coloured building not far from the one they were in. It had a very similar type of construction, apparently made up of myriad apartments.:: DeVeau: Do you prefer traveling and exploring? Saavok: Affirmative. ::He seemed to consider his words carefully for a moment.:: I found life in ShirKahr restrictive. The galaxy is very interesting. DeVeau: I have to agree with you there. Saveron: His teachers labelled him disruptive. ::Yet the look he gave his son held no reproof.:: He has inherited his father’s restlessness. ::The doctor would own that fault.:: DeVeau: Hm. I’m not sure I would agree with the teachers’ assessment. Being on a starship has its advantages, though, and I imagine you learn a lot of things that you wouldn’t be able to on Vulcan. Saavok: That is why I prefer to be stationed with my father. ::The little Vulcan agreed with a certain finality.:: Saveron: Some individuals benefit from a far broader education. ::He agreed.:: ::His son was more at home in space than on Vulcan, the doctor acknowledged that. It was why, despite the dangers of the posting, he had requested that he be permitted to bring Saavok, and why he kept him with him. Others might not agree but Saveron was of the view that the benefits outweighed the risks. For a moment he rested a hand lightly on his son’s shoulder, as family might do. He also found having his son with him preferable.:: Saveron: Would you be interested to see Mount Selaya? ::It was one of the more famous locations on Vulcan.:: DeVeau: Of course! ::She wondered if she’d be able to compare it to any of the Terran mountains she’d seen. Fujiyama was, of course, the one most familiar to her, but she’d visited Mount Mckinley as well as Kilimanjaro and Everest, though she’d only viewed them from afar. :: DeVeau: Are there other places on Vulcan that you two prefer as well? Saavok: Ut-kashi tower? ::He suggested.:: Saveron: If such is considered agreeable. ::He replied, before looking over at Alora.:: Would you be interested in exploring part of T’ralor? That is where I grew up, in southern Han Shir. DeVeau: Absolutely. ::As he spoke he led them through the portal and into the apartment proper, which was neat, sparse in it’s low, Vulcan-style furnishings and restful in it’s neutrally coloured wall hangings.:: ::Through the entrance was a long hallway which they followed into the heart of the building. As they walked they were joined by members of the holographic population, robed in ochre, charcoal and sand, they were shorter and stockier than Saveron. Hair was almost universally black and predominantly worn in the same porridge-bowl cut that Saavok wore, eyes were mostly dark and skin was coppery. There was the occaisional glance, nod or flash of the ta’al, but mostly they walked quietly. Saveron stuck out like a sore thumb, obviously racially different, and Saavok’s hybrid nature was more obvious when seen next to his mother’s people.:: ::They entered a turbolift, formed in the same shades of copper and ochre as the rest of the building, and travelled down the length of the building. As they did so Saveron called for a control panel and inputted several commands.:: ::The doors of the turbolift opened not onto the foyer of the building, but onto a flat, sandy plain with an oddly short horizon. As they stepped out perspective changed and it became obvious that they stood upon a high plateau in the mountains. Behind them the door of the lift closed and disappeared.:: ::When they turned to look back they were faced with the Temple of Gol, carved into the red rock of the mountain itself. Pillars and spires of proportions that looked alien to Terran eyes; aesthetic to Vulcan ones adorned the entrance. Across the plateau was a narrow rock bridge that led to an arena and altar, balanced atop another rock spire. Above them the reddish, dust-filled sky seemed to loom closer and below there was nothing for a very long way, until the distant, rocky valley below.:: ::Here and there Vulcans in long, ornamented robes walked or stood in quiet contemplation.:: Saveron: This is the Temple of Gol, atop Mount Selaya. It is the seat of Golic culture and mental discipline. DeVeau: Oh...wow. ::It was nothing like anything she had ever seen. Her experiences with the mountains on Terra could not compare. They were beautiful, that, there was no doubt, but the alien majesty of the Vulcan mountain and the temple cradled within swept her breath away momentarily. The view was frightening and instinctively Alora inched closer to the two Vulcans, taking comfort in their presence. Despite that fear, it was amazing to behold and she couldn’t help but stare, her eyes wide as they soaked in the brilliant surroundings.:: DeVeau: You studied here? ::As Alora moved closer to them Saveron made a mental note to take into account that she appeared to dislike heights. Her reaction to the balcony view had been less than favourable.:: Saveron: Negative; T’Rel did. She is a disciple of the Temple and a student of their most advanced teachings. She is extremely adept at mental discipline. The Temple is central to Golic culture. ::But it was also an easily recognisable landmark, and something that aliens often seemed to know about and consider worth visiting.:: DeVeau: It’s beautiful. ::And it was. Beautiful, magnificent, and terrifying all at once. Alora took a deep breath and let it ease out slowly. As long as she stayed away from the edge. Well, it was just a hologram, but even that knowledge didn’t help dissuade her discomfort.:: Saveron: The teachings of my own people vary somewhat from Golic mental traditions, though the core values and systems are largely identical. My people are strong adherents of the IDIC principle. DeVeau: Do you have a badge? Saveron: Affirmative. I have one that I use as a communicator. DeVeau: How do the teachings differ? Saveron: Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations was one of the prime teachings of Surak, along with the principle that we must control our emotions, lest they control us. My people put more emphasis on the former, Golic teachings on the latter. DeVeau: Interesting how much difference there is. Saveron: It is, I think, a function of differences in culture. Golic peoples traditionally dwell in these very arid areas, congregating in large numbers around water sources. As such conformity is important for social cohesion. My own people are agrarian and traditionally live in small family communities, each with it’s own traditions. DeVeau: So not only does the philosophy differ but so does the social aspect. ::He nodded slightly.:: Saveron: Such difference is IDIC also. You yourself have given me much insight into Terran cultural differences. DeVeau: I think it’s interesting to learn about different cultures. Vulcan culture, when studied on Terra and in the academy, is generally presented in a two dimensional fashion. There’s so much more richness though just from what I’ve learned from you. They don’t teach us this much when studying the language. I wish they would. It would certainly help Terrans keep from being so ignorant. ::The grin was rueful and a sigh accompanied it.:: DeVeau: So, where else shall we go from here? ::Preferably some place not quite so high. And narrow. And high.:: ::Judging that Alora might not find the idea of crossing the narrow stone bridge to the arena agreeable, he suggested a change of scenery.:: Saveron: The An’ahyaes Valley may present an interesting contrast. Kal-an is the main settlement of the region. ::Which was where he’d spent most of his life.:: DeVeau: Sure, that sounds good. ::A few verbal commands from Saveron and the scenery around them changed from the dramatic and barren mountains to a more open vista. They were still at a viewpoint but the hillside sloped away from them more gently, down to a vast, undulating valley floor. As far as the eye could see the valley had been sculpted into geometric fields planted with crops in the various red and brown hues characteristic of Vulcan vegetation. The soil itself was sandy and pale and the plants looked parched and spiky; it was an arid landscape by Terran standards, but clearly a lush, productive land by Vulcan ones.:: ::Small settlements were visible on the hills that ringed the great valley, clusters of buildings no more than a couple of storeys high, in much the same colour as the surrounding soil. Roads led down from the hillside dwellings to the valley floor below; clearly the locals knew better than to build on precious, fertile ground. There was an obvious roadway along the tops of the hillsides, connecting the farming communities, and in the distance what appeared to be a small city sprawled down the side of a particularly large hill.:: ::The air was cooler up here than it had been in ShirKahr, though it was still parchingly hot for a non-native. In the fields below people and machines moved in the shimmering heat. To the east the line of hills was broken and the land instead dropped away into a series of ravines that ran, in the distance, to a faint shimmer that might have been the narrow, shallow Voroth sea.:: Saveron: This is the An’ahyaes Valley; it’s farmland feeds half a continent. There is Kal-an. Saveron: This is the An’ahyaes Valley; it’s farmland feeds half a continent. There is Kal-an. ::He gestured to the city in the distance.:: Saveron: To the north-east, behind these hills, lies the T’ralorean Preserve, one of the last vestiges of Vulcan as it was before the gravitational shift. At the southern end of the valley lie the ruins of Ut-kashi tower, an ancient defensive holding of my people. These are my family’s dwellings. ::He gestured around them to the low, sand-coloured buildings that seemed to be dug into the hillside as much as they were built on them. Low walls marked out pocket gardens between them, filled with varieties of plants from across the planet.:: ::Alora soaked in the view and studied the buildings and the land that surrounded them. It was a stark contrast to the mountain. There one had been filled with a sense of awe and almost fear. But there with the squatter buildings and agrarian culture that was obvious by the tilled and readied land, it felt less intimidating and far more welcoming.:: DeVeau: What sort of crops do they grow? Saveron: We grow a variety of grains and legumes and rotational crops, and fruit from established plantings; you might describe them as ‘orchards’. ::Though the squat shrubs would look rather sad compared to a Terran fruit orchard.:: ::Alora’s gaze fell back to the fields as they stretched out in a wave of earth. Had they just finished plowing or had seeds already been planted in that simulation?:: DeVeau: It’s amazing how many you guys are able to feed. What are your parents like? Do they work the land too? Saveron; Affirmative. My father Vahnyahraeon is an agricultural engineer; my mother Saehleyrah is a Preserve warden. ::He said, pronouncing his parents’ correct Nel-Gathic names rather than simplifying them.:: My clan has worked this land for generations. Our ability to produce sufficient food for the population stems partly from careful management. It is also the reason that we do not eat animal products; it would take several times as much land to produce the same amount of nutrition if the land was used to raise livestock. ::That was the logic behind Vulcan veganism.:: DeVeau: So no animals are kept anywhere at all? Saveron: The nomadic desert tribes of the Go’an are traditionally hunters, and they still conduct rare ritual hunts according to their cultural traditions and sustainable practices. But no animals are farmed. DeVeau: Interesting. How do the plants get water in a place like this? Saveron: In the evening as the sun sets the temperature drops and the wind direction changes. Moist air from the Voroth Sea blows over this land and the moisture condenses out as mist. ::Of course, ‘moist’ was a relative term. The rate of condensation also had a lot to do with the low water-holding capacity of the thin atmosphere.:: DeVeau: I understand that Vulcans don’t eat meat on Vulcan because it’s not worth the effort, but what about when you’re not on Vulcan and such things are plentiful? I know you don’t, but do you just prefer to avoid meat and dairy? Or is there another reason you don’t partake? ::It was a reasonable question, and one he’d been asked before.:: Saveron: It is true that in the age of replicators there is no longer the need to eat only plant material to ensure sufficient supply. ::He admitted.:: However it is part of my culture, and a part that I choose to continue to practice. ::He acknowledged that there was no logical reason not to eat a replicated hamburger, but he still wasn’t going to be chowing down on one in the near future.:: Saveron: I understand that other species appreciate differences in flavour that are encountered in animal products, however most other species have a far more sensitive sense of taste and smell than Vulcans. I anticipate that the finer nuances of flavour would be lost on me. DeVeau: Because of the lack of taste? Saveron: The sense of smell requires moist receptor cells in the nasal passages; these are a potential site of water loss. We have only a few receptors and they are largely sensitive to the scents of predators. Females have greater sensitivity than males. ::It was interesting that there was a distinct cross-over to species from other planets, such as Terran canines. Dogs were particularly offensive.:: DeVeau: Ah, interesting. So an acute sense of smell, but receptive within a narrow scope. Saveron: I understand that the sense of taste developed in other species to allow individuals to determine which foods were safe to eat and which were poisonous or spoiled. Species on fertile worlds have the luxury of being selective. ::Alora nodded slowly. It was luxury all right, particularly compared with what she saw before her eyes.:: Saveron: On Vulcan we cannot afford to be so; rather we developed efficient livers which can process most native toxins, and active immune systems that can neutralise most effects of putrefaction. ::Vulcans could eat just about anything that grew on their world and regularly did. That didn’t mean that it was palatable or even safe for other species.:: DeVeau: Which means compared with humans, there’s not much that can harm you or poison you. So your livers actually allow your bodies to deal with more things and give you a hardier immune system. Saveron: Affirmative. Our adaptations give us an immunity to native toxins and simple poisons such as cyanide and ethanol. We have no particular resistance to complex toxins from other worlds. We are still affected by caffeine. ::He added by way of example.:: DeVeau: Well, most Terrans are too. I avoid caffeine for the most part. ::She got very little, chocolate being the only food she consumed that would contain the stimulant, and even then it was negligible compared to coffee and other caffeine laced drinks.:: DeVeau: Caffeine makes me shaky. ::The Vulcan had never seen the appeal in the substance himself.:: Saveron: You would have experienced many Terran cuisines, and others through Starfleet. Have you developed preferences? DeVeau: Oh I love food. All sorts of food. On Terra, in India and other asian countries, they have various types of curries. Spices. I love spices of all sorts, though I’m not very good when it comes to actually creating various dishes. I can follow a recipe okay, but tend to leave cooking to others. ::Like her mother and the youngest of her brothers. Who needed to cook when she had them? Of course, there was replicator food as well, which was not quite as good, but better than some people’s cooking she’d tasted.:: DeVeau: There are all sorts of vegan curry dishes. Maybe you can visit Terra sometime. Aime can cook for you. Saveron: I would not object to that. ::He [...]ed his head slightly in query.:: I am not familiar with ‘Aime’. DeVeau: He’s one of my brothers, an artist and gaining in notoriety. He cooks like nobody’s business. Saveron: ::Trying to think how to ask politely.:: Would that perhaps suggest that the experience might not be beneficial? DeVeau: I mean, he’s an excellent cook. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything he ever made and didn’t like it. Saveron: I see. ::Terran colloquialisms again.:: I would be honoured to meet your brother, and to taste his cooking. DeVeau: Do you have any brothers and sisters? ::Alora couldn’t imagine a life without her brothers. Of course, they had plenty of spats, but she’d never trade any of her family for anything in the universe.:: Saveron: My siblings have remained on Vulcan. If you were to visit I could introduce you. DeVeau: Really? That would be great! I’d love to meet more of your relations. How big is your family? Saveron: I have three siblings, ten nieces and nephews and seven great nieces and nephews. ::Not to mention his own spawn and grandspawn.:: DeVeau: Wow. I’ve a few nieces and nephews, but only half that many...and no greats, but I’m young yet. ::Vulcans lived longer than humans. How old was Saveron? Although he had mentioned grandchildren before, she hadn’t truly thought about how old he was til he listed a goodly portion of his relatives. He didn’t seem particularly old to her, though having a young child probably helped with that. She refrained from asking about his age. If she really wanted to know, it was in his public file and it would be rude to ask such a question.:: DeVeau: Do you go back to Vulcan often? Saveron: I have done so, although I do not anticipate returning as frequently now that none of my children are on Vulcan. I left Vulcan five months ago. DeVeau: Oh, so you’ve not been back for that long. Did you two enjoy yourselves? ::The Vulcan considered his response. He knew that it was an idle question, no implied insult was intended by the suggestion that they might have experienced an emotive response. Never mind that if they had, for him at least it would have been far different.:: Saveron: It was a complex period of time; there were several situations that warranted resolution. ::He admitted.:: We did take the opportunity to visit Kal’an and my family. ::Saavok was really only coming to know his Nel-Gathic side now.:: ::Alora nodded and allowed her gaze to wander.:: DeVeau: So would you mind giving me a more detailed tour? Then you can choose anywhere else you’d like to show me. Saveron: I would have no objection. Which part of Vulcan would you consider interesting? DeVeau: I’m interested in all of it. ::She grinned again then turned so she could follow behind her guide. If she was honest, her desire would be to visit the real world. That wasn’t possible at that time, however, and she was grateful for the holodeck. It was better than nothing.:: ::As the two wandered along the path, watching people and machines working in the field below, Saveron considered Alora’s request.:: Saveron: Vulcan is not a small planet. It will take some time. DeVeau: That’s okay. ::Alora assured him with a smile.:: I don’t mind spending more time with you. END A JP by Lieutenant Commander Saveron Chief Medical Officer USS Mercury and Lt. JG. Alora DeVeau Science Officer USS Mercury and PNPC Saavok Vulcan Child USS Mercury
  17. ((Epsilon VII Medical Facility - Counseling and Neuroscience offices)) ::The call has come through from Starfleet Medical, indicating that the USS Excalibur-A, a ship in dire need of a full counseling staff yet barely able to keep one counselor onboard at any given time, was docked back at Starbase 118. Doctor Solan arched a perfectly sculpted Vulcan brow, and idly wondered if it was logical to contact him with such short notice. If he was not an enlightened follower of the Kohlinar, he might have attributed an emotional reasoning to the late orders. His colleagues often said things like ‘that is so rude’ or ‘they do that on purpose’ as if short notices were planned specifically to irritate them. Solan believed that if there was blame involved, it was due to an inefficiency of the processes of bureaucracy rather than any personal vendetta. Inefficiency was not inexcusable, however it was understandable. Still, Starfleet Medical recognized Ensign Solan’s efficiency, perhaps even counted upon it. If anyone could be ready to leave at a moment’s notice, it would be him. He had few personal effects to pack, and those he did carry with him were meticulously organized enough to make packing a simple affair. Add to that the simple fact that Solan, by nature, made sure than every report that needed to be filed was filed precisely on time and all loose ends were wrapped up as a matter of course meant he left nothing dangling to be cleaned up should he need to leave. Part of this could be attributed to his Vulcan heritage. Certainly it did not hurt. But moreover, it was part of his age and routine. Despite the fact that he only bore Ensign’s pips, this was only another stage in Solan’s journey to better understand neurochemistry and how it affected various species - a journey that he had already traveled for many decades. He had already spent half a lifetime researching at the Vulcan Science Academy, he could boast – if Vulcans were given to boasting (which they certainly were not) – two adult children who were both fine scientists in their own right and a wife who was an honored diplomat. Twenty years ago Solan would have thought he would have spent the rest of his life on Vulcan researching neurochemistry and neurology, peaceful in his choice of studies and staying in communion with his family and extended family. But that was before his mother, T’Lara, developed Bendii Syndrome at the painfully young age of 146. For the next three years Solan was driven to research the neurological illness, defying the bounds of logic in an almost desperate attempt to find a cure for the incurable. At the same time he became his mother’s closest caretaker – suffering the brunt of her telepathic emotional projections. When she died, three years after diagnosis, Solan was crushed and his emotional barricades crumbled like sandstone beaten by the relentless winds of the harsh Vulcan desert. His faith in medical science was shaken that day, and he wavered between unbecoming bouts of anger and depression. Finally Solan decided to re-cleanse himself by the ritual of Kohlinar. He spent five years attaining enlightenment and purging emotions and in the end he came to two conclusions: the first was that true enlightenment came from neither blind denial nor failure to acknowledge emotion. No, in fact the highest illumination was reserved for those who keenly understood emotions and chose to eschew them in favor of the course of pure logic. The second was that despite the depth of research that the Vulcan Science Academy had, he believed that breadth of experience might be what was needed to break through to new discoveries. As his children were well set with their lives and his wife was used to traveling and connecting with him when opportunity presented itself, Solan found it logical to expand his horizons. He enrolled in Starfleet Academy, in the hope that other cultures might provide him with the spark of an idea he needed to solve the medical mystery he was so intent on solving. While the medical facility on Starbase Epsilon VII was state of the art and well staffed, it wasn’t the breadth of experience Solan was hoping for. A mere three months after his posting he suggested to Starfleet Medical that it would be logical to test his expertise in the field. Certainly there would be a starship that could use a Vulcan counselor who was an expert in neurochemistry and neuropharmacology. Reading the reports – slim as they were – from the USS Excalibur, it appeared that he would be wading into what Terrans so colorful called ‘shark infested waters.’ He did not know what frontiers this ship might bring him to or what he might learn, but he was quite sure just from reading the scattered reports of the last and current counselor that the crew could use a guiding hand into understanding their own mental health. Thus prepared, he straightened and prepared to big farewell to his colleagues. He found them an agreeable group to interact with, and it was logical to retain good connections with intelligent doctors and scientists. Logic dictated that one must always remember the past, but not be bound by it. Solan felt at peace with the job he had done and curious for the one to come. As much as a student of the Kolinar could enjoy himself, Solan had agreeable expectations for what was to come.:: pNPC Ensign (Doctor) Solan Counselor en route to the USS Excalibur-A
  18. ((StarBase 118 - Promenade)) ::As the others went off to eat, Tracey considered joining them, but they all seemed still like strangers to her and she didn't feel so hungry as of yet. So she strode through the shopping district of this massive starbase almost aimlessly as her thoughts turned to her adopted Romulan infant still on DS 285, wishing she could return to his side, and soon.:: ::As she walked, she passed by an open doorway where a distinct sound could be heard coming from within. Pausing, she looked into the darkened lounge and could see the silhouette of the massive instrument standing in the center of the lounge. In curiosity, Tracey entered and could now more clearly see the lines of the large instrument, and the person sitting there playing single keystrokes with his index finger. The simple tune was in sharp contrast to what Tracey would think to be the powerful sound that should be coming from such a large instrument, with its top opened at an angle.:: ::As the simple tune would repeated, and Tracey came even closer, she noticed the black and white keys sprawled across the apparent playing surface as each time one was pressed down, a new tone was emitted, and just above these keys, in the center read the name "Steinway" in a gold script. As she came closer, she noticed the young man sitting and playing the simple tune wore a uniform of a Cadet.:: ::Tracey stopped not far behind the young man and clasped her hands behind her back as memories of the simple tune flooded back into her. It was the same simple lullaby her father from a universe that now only existed in her mind, used to sing to her when she was a child, and she closed he eyes and began to mouth the lyrics.:: ::Suddenly, perhaps due to the proximity of Tracey to the young maestro, the music abruptly stopped. Tracey opened her eyes and the young man was standing at attention.:: CADET: ::noting the pips on her collar:: Commander. TOWNSON: ::with a look of surprise:: No...no...Please. Cadet...as you were. CADET: ::with a curt nod:: Yes Commander. ::And with that, the Cadet sat back down and continued playing the single keystrokes on the large instrument. After awhile, and as he continued, he turned to look back. Tracey stood immobile as her eyes fluttered closed again and she continued to mouth the lyrics. Feeling the weight of the Cadet's stare, Tracey opened her eyes and felt somewhat embarrassed. The darkness of the room kept the flushing of her face from view, however.:: CADET: You know it, Commander? ::as he continued playing now without looking and using all fingers in his right hand.:: TOWNSON: ::nodding slowly as she twirled her long black hair in her fingers as she did when she was a child:: Yes. It is a beautiful sound. Thank you, Cadet. CADET: You have never heard the sound of a piano, Commander? TOWNSON: Only recordings. ::looking around the room before moving towards the piano.:: In this room, it just sounds so much more...vibrant. ::smiling:: CADET: ::smiling:: I am happy you enjoy, Commander. ::tapping the piano stool next to him.::Please...sit. It is very simple. I could teach you if you would like? ::Tracey's smile turned to a grin, and without thinking, took the young Cadet up on his offer and sat. The Cadet stopped playing and the two looked at each other for a moment.:: CADET: This particular piano was built in the 19th century and was re-furbished last year. There are only ten known left in the galaxy, and only two on earth. I was lucky to find one here. ::putting out his hand to shake hers:: My name is Steven. TOWNSON: ::taking his hand in her right prosthetic hand:: Tracey. CADET: OK then, Commander Tracey... TOWNSON: No...just Tracey. CADET: OK Tracey. there is no need to be nervous. I noticed your hand is very cold. TOWNSON: I am not nervous, Steven. The hand is not real. CADET: ::with a look of concern:: I am sorry to hear, Tracey. TOWNSON: ::nodding and gesturing towards the piano:: Please? CADET: Of course. ::And with that, the Cadet showed Tracey how to play the simple tune. After about a half hour, Tracey had the keystrokes ingrained in her memory and as the two played the simple melody in different octaves, Tracey grinned like a schoolgirl until her com-badge sounded. Tracey then stopped and looked at the Cadet.:: TOWNSON: Duty calls. CADET: ::nodding:: I too must be getting back. TOWNSON: Thank you, Cadet....? CADET: Bance...and you Commander? TOWNSON: Townson. CADET: Pleased to meet you, Commander Townson. TOWNSON: And you as well, Cadet Bance. If you'll excuse me. ::standing:: ::And with that, Tracey spun on heels and headed out of the lounge as the young Cadet watched her leave knowing full well he probably will never see the woman ever again..:: -TBC- Lt. Commander Tracey Townson Chief of Operations USS Discovery-C/USS Odyssey
  19. ((Nygel II aka the Gateway Planet)) DeVeau: Ow. ::Her eyes still refused to focus completely, but they eventually condescended to doing so enough that Alora was able to recognise Rahman.:: Rahman: Ow is right. DeVeau: Ow infinity. ::Those blasted lights kept wriggling and writhing, which almost made Rahman look as if she had a strange case of dancing Venuvian glow pox.:: DeVeau: Dare I ask where we are? Rahman: We're on the cavern floor. Commander Ross and Dr. Saveron are above us. I'm not sure about the others. DeVeau: I was afraid you'd say something like that. ::Her entire body screamed, assaulted in some places by fire, in others by knives. Slowly, Alora made an attempt to sit up and a cry escaped while tears stung her already clouded eyes.:: Rahman: Don't try to move just yet. You took a nasty hit to the head, and I don't have a medical tricorder--or even a regular tricorder--to guess how severe it is. DeVeau: Lovely. ::She nodded.:: Rahman: The point is, we're alive. ::A blurred hand moved and the chirp of the combadge followed. Her badge. She had a badge. That's right there was a badge. Her fingers fumbled for it and she managed to tap into the conversation.:: Rahman: =/\= Rahman to Commander Ross. Are you and Doctor Saveron all right, sir? =/\= Ross: =/\= We're alive, if not exactly in one piece. What's your status? =/\= Rahman: =/\= Lieutenant DeVeau and I are on the cavern floor. We've both sustained injuries--possibly severe. I don't know if we'll be able to reach your location. =/\= DeVeau: We fell down the hooooole. ::There was a sudden almost irresistible urge to giggle, but at the first attempt to do so, her body complained. Loudly.:: DeVeau: Ow. Ross: =/\= We'll come down to you. =/\= Rahman: =/\= Understood. Do you see Lieutenant Zeme or Doctor- =/\= ::Rahman didn't have a chance to finish. As a flash of light was accompanied with the distinct tone of a disrupter rifle, Rahman slumped to the ground. Alora's scream reverberated throughout the cavern walls.:: Pasht-Nos: Quiet! ::Alora's teeth chomped on her tongue and she drew blood, but it kept her from voicing another scream. She winced as he snatched her combadge and proceeded to make the appropriate threats.:: Pasht-Nos: =/\= Commander Ross, is it? =/\= Ross: =/\= ...that's right. =/\= Pasht-Nos: =/\= This is Captain Pasht-Nos of the Free Trade Union. I'm going to make this very simple for you today, commander. You're going to repair this Gateway and secure my passage off of this planet... =/\= ::Alora's eyes crossed as they stared down the blackness of the barrel.:: Pasht-Nos: =/\= ...or you're going to have two dead Starfleet officers to beam back up. =/\= Ross: =/\= That's impossible. Iconion technology is thousands of years in advance of- =/\= ::Impossible was not a word that Pasht-Nos wanted to hear. He stepped back and fired up and past the walkway, showering Ross and the others with hot rocks freed from the cavern walls.:: ::Somehow, Alora managed not to scream, but she couldn't help but cringe. The motion sent more fire through her body and she had to bite her tongue again - that time to keep from voicing her pain.:: Pasht-Nos: =/\= This is not a negotiation! The Gateway lies at the center of the network of tunnels. Meet us there, and perhaps you will see your women alive again. =/\= ::He flung the badges on the floor and shot them. They were destroyed and so went any hope of communicating with her colleagues on the ground or in space. That task completed, the man focused on her once more.:: Pasht-Nos: Can you walk? DeVeau: I don't know. I haven't tried. ::Although she still couldn't focus completely, there was no mistaking the snarling smirk on such a sinister seeming.:: Pasht-Nos: On your own feet or dragged by your hair: either way, we're going. Now! DeVeau: Okay. ::The best thing she could do was comply. Keep cool. Try not to panic. But panic was what she wanted to do. Her heart pounded furiously against her chest as she tried to order her limbs to comply with her desires.:: ::Her left arm refused to move. Dislocated or broken? She couldn't tell and the strange combination of tingling and numbness couldn't be interpreted. The cavern swam as she rose, her motion slow, careful. Her legs complained, particularly her right ankle. It was extremely painful, but she could hobble if she had to - and frankly, she had to. She inhaled deeply, took a step and almost fell. Almost.:: Pasht-Nos: Stop stalling! ::Alora winced and lifted her eyes. Whether she was praying or looking for her friends above wasn't certain and she didn't let her foggy gaze linger.:: Pasht-Nos: ::laughs:: He can't help you now. Let's move! ::She had to focus, had to move had to...nausea gripped her and it took almost everything she had to keep from heaving. Despite her attempt, bile rose to her mouth though she managed to choke it down as she began to hobble while escorted by her captor.:: Lt. JG. Alora DeVeau Science Officer and Captive USS Mercury
  20. ((Church)) ::Irina never went to church. She was raised Russian Orthodox, and after arriving in the United States her father continued to attend services, but Irina had not stepped foot in a church since leaving Russia. It just made no sense. Since her mother was killed, the whole concept of some happy and wonderful grandpa in the sky looking out for you just didn't work. Those lessons were relearned in Afghanistan and Pakistan, where Irina learned that nobody was coming to help her, and that if she was to survive, it would be only by her own wits, and no small amount of pure, blind, chaotic luck. The Taliban would kill her, or they would keep her around, entirely at their whim.:: ::The night of the riots was like a return the combat. Irina was just passing through, on her way to New York. She had stopped in Ravensville for a cup of coffee and perhaps an ice cream for Katya, and the two of them were actually inside the Plaza Caglia when the excitement started as Irina had decided to have the oil changed in her car. It was actually what led to her job.:: ::Many townspeople had taken refuge inside the restaurant/bar, and Irina, like them, had no plans to go outside or in any way get involved. When the windows broke and a group of aggressive young men entered the bar, however, all thoughts of waiting it out went right out that broken window. As the four men started trashing the place and terrorizing those inside, one of them made the mistake of looking at Katya for perhaps a second too long, and immediately found the baseball bat he had been holding ripped from his hand and then smashed into the side of his head. Irina proceeded to beat the living daylights out of all four, and then she heard the single shot from outside.:: ::She remembered dropping the bat and upending most of the tables and ordering everyone to crouch behind them, while she peered over the top with her own pistol at the ready. Fortunately, after the shot was fired, things calmed down quickly.:: ::She didn't know why she didn't just pick up her car the next morning and keep on driving, but for whatever reason, she had stayed in Ravensville. She rented a small two bedroom apartment, got a job keeping the peace at the very same bar, and since there was a large VA hospital just 40 miles away in the same county, she stayed. Now she was in a church, listening to descriptions of the police officer who died when that single shot was fired.:: Rascon: Hey, you're that bouncer who looks like Michelle Pfeiffer who kicked my [...] when I was drunk! Those were some cool moves. I totally felt them in the morning, so respect for slapping a drunken bum who should have known better back into line! Pavlova: I've got a lot more moves where those came from. ::Irina completely put aside that they were in a church, as she had no real respect for such places anyway, and played along.:: Rascon: Do you know if Plaza Caglia is open? You don't just let something like this pass you by without raising some kind of a toast. If you don't have to work then you're welcome to join us and I'll shout you for a drink. It's the least I can do after... whatever I did that made it feel like you dislocated my leg last time. Pavlova: We should open in about an hour, and I'll have vodka on ice. ::As someone started to move past him in the queue, Daz, gave them an elbow.:: Rascon: How about you, Kael? Joining us in the bar? Thomas: Err, sorry? Rascon: You've gotta have some stories to share about the big guy, right? Thomas: Oh, a few. Matthews: ::Coughing:: Hey Kael, Pavolva, nice to see you while I'm sober. ::Irina nodded, then backed away. Too many cops. She resumed her quiet stance near the exit, keeping an eye out for Leo. It was hard for him, she knew. The bullet was meant for him, and he knew it. It was a sort of guilt that all soldiers felt for those who didn't make it, worse if their loss was the reason for one's own survival. Irina knew the feeling well.:: ::A drink would help, preferably far more than just one.:: Irina Pavlova Bouncer
  21. Please use this thread for any general discussion or questions about the Top Sims Contest. Do not post praise or criticism for submitted sims in this thread. Instead, post those praise or criticisms in the submitted sim's own thread.
  22. Guest

    Lt Cmdr Atimen - Alone

    (( Ithassa Sector - 2 Years Prior )) ::It had been a long day’s work for the inhabitant of this small shanty on a hill. Wood and plaster like the houses of old, it was a single rectangular structure with singular purpose. A lone mattress lay bare on a corner, along with a portable food replicator unit - not the only technology, for the rest of the room was filled with it.:: ::It was raining. The hardest rain he had yet seen, and he feared for his work. The lush green grass outside soaked up the ambrosia of life, rejoicing in the growth it would bring. The structure might have been made by replicator, but it wasn't holding up as well - water had begun to trickle onto the floor. And onto his equipment.:: ::He quickly tossed a tarp over his obsession and turned his attention upwards - the leaks had to be patched, and quick. Duranium, he told himself. Duranium would have been a better choice. Ugly, but better. The romantic in him apparently had disagreed. He grabbed a polymer adhesive and took a deep breath, stepping out into the flood.:: ::The wind howled in his ears and battered against his sides, and it wasn't five seconds before his hair became matted and his clothes waterlogged. He pulled himself onto the roof, wiping his bangs out of his eyes as he tried to find the source of his pain. Fifteen minutes later and he collapsed exhausted, staring up at the darkened sky. The wind died down and the rain became soft.:: ::He had been living here for a while. So much so that it had become his home, now far more than the temporary housing he originally sought. It was his refuge. It was his castle. It was his solitude. He had come here alone, a refugee from the darkness of space. He had run. Fled. Escaped. Where he had come from was death, and it was on his hands. He had told himself he had to, that there was no other option. It was a lie.:: ::Each rain-drop reminded him of home. He missed his friends. His family. His captain. His crew. His ship. In his mind he was a failure, and even worse he was a deserter. He had abandoned them when they needed him the most.:: Atimen: I'm sorry. ::He whispered, blinking rain and tears out of his eyes.:: I'm sorry. ::He hadn't spoken a word aloud since he arrived all those months ago. He had no one to speak it to. No one but the rain. But it listened. It embraced him. The giver of life, of growth, of sustenance. There, on that roof, light years away from any living soul, he was not alone.:: -- Lt. Cmdr Atimen Chief of Security/Tactical Starbase118 Operations
  23. ((Shelter ~ SB118 Ops)) ::Wanda was evacuated from main sickbay together with her mother. Wanda was spending days since mother’s injury and sitting by her bed, reading her and talking to her hoping it will wake her mother from coma she was in ever since the end of the first surgery. After all this months, Wanda was almost ready to accept that her mother will not wake up any time soon. Her father couldn’t accept that. He even accepted a desk position aboard the station to can be near his wife, something Wanda considered impossible for her parents.:: ::Though, she considered impossible for them to ever think of having another child or to retire, but they planned both and this accident ruined their plans thoroughly. It was hard watching her father suffer a loss of a baby, though unborn. He was suffering and in his pain he failed to see that his only child is suffering too. Suffering because of her mother yes, but equally suffering for Wanda was watching her colleagues taking over the station command and she was not there for them to help. Wanda felt as she failed them.:: ::She missed them a lot and couldn’t find a courage to go and say hi. Worst was seeing Marvin almost every day. Just a few days ago she decided to one day when father replace her in sickbay go and talk to him. Wanda loved him and she had to find out do he feels the same for her.:: ::Now she was sitting in the shelter while they were fighting something obviously very deadly when they moved all the civilians to the shelters. She wondered will she see any of them again and it was hurting her, so much. When her father arrived and brought few boxes of blankets, she stood to him and explained she want him to take her to command.:: G. DYAMONE: No, absolutely not. DYAMONE: Enough is Enough. Father, 'you' can do that or I’ll ask one of security officers. You know that I’m much safer with you escorting me. Your choice, Sir. ::She was watching him firm and tough. Sir shook him, obviously. It was telling him that she means it seriously that she is returning to active duty when she treated him as superior officer. He looked at her in silence, turned away from her and then back to her. Gordon took one of the blankets from the box and covered his wife kissing her in her cheek, then turned back to Wanda.:: G.DYAMONE: I can’t lose you, child. I lost a baby this year, i can’t lose my only child. DYAMONE: You know I was always careful. ::He bite his upper lip and pouted, then grabbed another blanket from the box and put it on her forming a robe around her and pining it with something Wanda couldn’t recognize at first. When she finally saw the pin she knew he was ready for this. Gordon obviously knew his child better than she expected him.:: DYAMONE: You cleared this with security, pa? G.DYAMONE: Yes, commbadge is yours to use. I told them you’re devoted medic and you’ll surely want to help. ::He sighed heavy.:: Are you ready? ::Wanda collected her medical bag from under the bed her mother was laying on, kissed her mother and nodded to her father.:: DYAMONE: Ready. ::They walked in silence. Maybe because they were not alone, maybe because they wouldn’t talk anyway. Some parts of the station looked as nothing happened while some they moved through as the war was followed by thunderstorm with lot of heavy wind. On their way Wanda stopped few times to check bodies and her father and his marines frowned every time, all up till she actually found alive woman barely breathing hit by something or maybe someone running to the shelter and left for dead. One of them was left behind to help poor woman to sickbay.:. ::When they were almost on their destination, another body attracted her attention. Woman was laying on the floor as resting, but moreover she was looking familiar. When Wanda approached young Betazoid opened her eyes and smiled.:: ILWARY: Deities, thank you. I thought I’ll stay here forever. My uniform is stuck and I’m frozen and couldn’t pull out. ::Wanda saw the look on the faces of tough marines and growled at them.:: DYAMONE: She is ill and weak, in her condition getting frozen as she is is disastrous. Don’t look like idiots, help her. ::Soon everyone realized it was impossible to pull the uniform without ripping it apart. When they got Ireya up even Wanda couldn’t but laugh seeing the hole on young Betazoid’s back. One of marines, the youngest one took off his jacket and covered Ireya and her bare back and posterior.:: ::When they reached Command center everyone entered, but Wanda stopped at the door. She was imagining this moment so many times and in her imagination it was easy, she will come to Rogers and tell him she is back... she first saw James and it shook her and then remembered how she just sent a message to Captain never faced him when left to take care of her mother and now it all turned into a fear that made her legs heavy and her resolution fade away.:: DYAMONE: Captain. ::She whispered and when nobody noticed her, took a deep breath and said aloud.:: Captain, permission to sssstep aboard, Sir. ROGERS:: Turning around at the sibilant pronunciation of ssstep he paused in confusion seeing Lt DyAmone standing looking at him. He said the first thing that came into his head. :: Welcome back Lieutenant. DYAMONE: Thank you. I... ::She looked up to her father, seeking support and courage.:: I would like to return to duty, Sir. ::She just glanced to Will; still expecting to be refused, Wanda held her head down.:: ROGERS: ::Quite sure his inane greeting had caused her obvious discomfort he responded to her request:: Lieutenant we need every hand to the wheel. You are returned to duty. to be continued... PNPC Wanda DyAmone Medical Officer Starbase 118 Operations
  24. This is it, the final round of voting for 2013's Top Sim. The winner of this vote will be considered the Top Sim of 2013 -- one of the most highly coveted writing awards in our community. Voting closes automatically at 23:59 Eastern Time on Sunday, December 29, 2013. Please read all three sims before choosing the one you like the best in the poll above. These sims were submitted by members of the community. A panel of judges which consisted of one judge from each ship voted on the best sim from each round. Then, the best sims from each set were culled in run-off rounds. Run-off Round 2 had a tie between two sims, and so both of those sims are now in the running during this final round. Your choice will be public, so that we can ensure that one ship's crew is not "stuffing the ballot box." If we find that any one crew is trying to force someone from their crew to be the winner, that sim will be disqualified and the ship will be ineligible to participate in the contest for all of 2014. Similarly, if anyone is found coercing members of their crew to vote for them, or a sim on their ship, that sim will be disqualified -- before, or after the vote. That does not mean that you can't vote for a sim that was originally simmed on your vessel. You just shouldn't vote for a sim from your ship simply because it's by your crew-mate. Instead, choose the sim that you believe is the best written, most engaging, and embodies the principles of good simming that this community values. For a vote to win the final round, at least 10% of its votes must come from a ship other than the one the sim was created on. LIST OF SIMS – please read all before voting: Hannibal Parker, "Revelations & Invitations"Tal Tel-ar & PNPC Sherana, "Sparring Match"Katy Orman, "Clashing"Greir Reinard & PNPC Chen, "Come Hell And High Water"Tal Tel-ar & PNPC Sherana, "I will remember you"
  25. Welcome to Top Sims Contest of 2013! All announcements for the entire 2013 contest will be posted in this thread. The Top Sims contest allows members of our fleet to be recognized by their peers for superior writing ability. Unlike the Writing Challenges, this contest allows only sims that have been used in a current plot to be considered. SUBMISSION GUIDELINES You can submit ANY sim -- from your ship, or another ship. You can submit your own sims if you wish. All sims are welcome, including staff (Captain, First Officer, etc.) sims.The sim must be written with good spelling, good grammar, and be in the correct format. Poorly structured sims will be disqualified.When a sim is submitted, it must have been created within the current submission period, or the previously lapsed submission period. Put another way: do not sims which are any older than a month.Submitted sims may not have any open dialogue tags. (i.e.: [respond here]) All dialogue in the sim must be filled in. (Just find the responding author's sim and fill in the blanks.)Sims must not include any "canon" characters. (i.e.- no characters who have appeared onscreen.)Please find a balance between nominating too many, or too few sims. Don't submit every good sim -- instead, post every great sim! Encourage your fellow crew-mates to submit at least a few sims a year. If you want your crew-mates to win more, you have to nominate the best sims, and encourage others to write higher quality sims! HOW TO SUBMIT A SIM First: Click the "Start New Topic" button. The format of the topic title should be as follows: "Character - Sim Title" For example: "LtJG Tristan Wolf - Everywhere you go, there you are"Note: Please do not clutter the topic title with an endless list of NPC or PNPC names or "JP" designations. Instead, simply include the primary character's rank and name. If it's a joint post, just include both rank and names -- no need to include the "JP" in there.Second: Choose from the "Topic Prefix" box the correct round number. (To check what round we're currently in, see the contest calendar below.) Third: Copy into the message box the complete sim. You don't need to worry about column width. Check to make sure that the sim is readable. You can click the "Edit" button to fix any issues, but don't delay -- the window to open a post closes after a short while. COMMENTING ON A SIM Everyone is welcome to comment on submitted sims. If you're going to provide constructive criticism, you are required to employ the "Hamburger" criticism method: first, mention something you like; second, something you didn't like; third, something else you liked. If you just want to provide praise, no hamburger method required! Commenters who are rude, unfair, or overzealous in their commenting will be barred from future comments in the contest forum, and will have their actions brought to the attention of their CO. CONTEST CALENDAR Set 1 Round 1 submissions: through November 23, 2012Round 2 submissions: December 1 to December 31, 2012Round 3 submissions: Tuesday, January 1 to Sunday, January 20Round 4 submissions: Monday, January 21 to Sunday, February 3Round 5 submissions: Monday, February 4 to Sunday, February 17Round 6 submissions: Monday, February 18 to Sunday, March 3Run-off Round 1: Monday, March 4 to Sunday, March 31Set 2 Round 7 submissions: Monday, March 4 to Sunday, March 17 Round 8 submissions: Monday, March 18 to Sunday, March 31Round 9 submissions: Monday, April 1 to Sunday, April 14Round 10 submissions: Monday, April 15 to Sunday, April 28Round 11 submissions: Monday, April 29 to Sunday, May 5Round 12 submissions: Monday, May 6 to Sunday, May 19Run-off Round 2: Monday, May 19 to Sunday, June 16Set 3 Round 13 submissions: Monday, May 20 to Sunday, June 2Round 14 submissions: Monday, June 3 to Sunday, June 16Round 15 submissions: Monday, June 17 to Sunday, June 30Round 16 submissions: Monday, July 1 to Sunday, July 14Round 17 submissions: Monday, July 15 to Sunday, July 28Round 18 submissions: Monday, July 29 to Sunday, August 11Run-off Round 3: Monday, August 12 to Sunday, September 8Set 4 Round 19 submissions: Monday, August 12 to Sunday, August 25Round 20 submissions: Monday, August 26 to Sunday, September 8Round 21 submissions: Monday, September 9 to Sunday, September 22Round 22 submissions: Monday, September 23 to Sunday, October 6Round 23 submissions: Monday, October 7 to Sunday, October 20Round 24 submissions: Monday, October 21 to Sunday, November 3Run-off Round 4: Monday, November 3 to Sunday, December 1FINAL RUN-OFF OF 2013: Monday, December 2 to Sunday, December 29 This run-off selects the Top Sim of 2013. Set 1, 2014 Contest Round 1, 2014 submissions: Monday, November 4 to Sunday, November 17Round 2, 2014 submissions: Monday, November 18 to Sunday, December 1Round 3, 2014 submissions: Monday, December 2 to Sunday, December 15Round 4, 2014 submissions: Monday, December 16 to Sunday, December 29Round 5, 2014 submissions: Monday, December 30 to Sunday, January 12, 2014
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