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Found 9 results

  1. I'll make a confession: I'm a verbose person. I begin to write and I easily exceed the number of words I had intended. That's why SIMs like this marvel me. It has many good things and, its conciseness is only one of them. In a very succinct way, without dialogue and with a very short and elegant description, it shows us a very intimate moment of a character that, in a usual way, is a force of nature. With very few lines and in a very subtle way it reflects what past events have meant for the character, how they still weigh on her and what she is dealing with. All in a missive to home, a sweetened message to really conceal what is in her mind. A true delight for its succinctness, its intimacy and the vulnerability it displays. Thanks for this gem @Addison MacKenzie ! ____________________________________________________ (( Room 0502, Deck 5, USS Thor )) Addison sat on the couch in her quarters with her feet up and re-read the letter composed on her PADD. To: Priscilla MacKenzie, 34 Linnaean Street, Cambridge, MA, Earth From: Lt. Cmdr. Addison MacKenzie, M.D., Ph.D., FASFS Hi Mom, I know, I know – I don’t write or call enough, and you’re right, so let’s just get that out of the way now. Things have been crazy, as you well know from the bits I’ve been able to send you. I’m on my third assignment in a year and a half, which either means they really like me, or they really hate me. Time will tell, I’m sure. We recently got took on several new junior officers, including a Vulcan doctor. While she’s a colossal pain in my [...], she’s an excellent addition to this crew, and so too for medicine as a whole, I’m sure. The rest of the lot are a good bunch and will make fine officers. Hopping the galaxy does have its perks, though – I had the best burger of my life at a greasy spoon on Ketar V. While I wouldn’t recommend The Shoals as a destination hotspot, these burgers might be worth it… I know Ryan would love them. Sorry I don’t have time to write more. Try not to worry too much – Geoff is still here and keeps me in line. Give Dad and the bunch a big squeeze for me. Next chance I get, I’ll be home to visit. Promise. All my love, Addy She decided not to mention the part where she had been abducted and abused, though it was likely her parents already knew – they always seemed to have a way of finding things out. Addison took a deep breath and hit send. She desperately hoped she was able to keep that promise. --- Lieutenant Commander Addison MacKenzie, M.D., Ph.D., FASFS Chief Medical Officer USS Thor V239601AM0
  2. There are many times that I love small snippets of SIMs so deeply that they could be a reason to throw the whole post to the appreciation forum, but as I would basically spam that place every time any of you sends an email, I will open a thread just to include those great moments that can be read in the Thor. To initiate it, I would like to highlight this moment from @Alex Brodie I don't know why, the scene play in my head as the perfect comic moment, without the need to say anything and I chuckle every time I read it. Good job, Brodie! What other moments have you enjoyed? Share them with everybody else!
  3. ((OOC: I think this small, personal scene has a tremendous amount of warmth and heart. The characters are wonderfully familiar and the whole tone of the thing is pitch perfect to me. Great job, @Ben Garcia)) (( Ben calls home from his quarters 05-1202, U.S.S. Thor. )) Samantha: Where are you? The room looks smaller? Ben? Garcia: Hi mama. Samantha: (Shouting over her shoulder.) Thom! Thoooaaaaaom! Thomas: (Muffled in the background.) Always the rush! (Shouting.) Coming! Samantha: I read the email Ben – is there two ships now? Both named Thor? Garcia: I’m on the Thor now. The crew got reposted from the Embassy to the Menthar Corridor – we took the Thor with us. The posting is ship bound now, ma. Thom cut across the frame, blocking the screen with his hip. Thomas: I’m here, I’m here. Samantha: (To Thom.) He’s on the ship, it’s moved. They’ve left the planet behind. Oh the beach Thomas … we’ll have to plan something else now. Ben craned in towards the screen. Garcia: Hi? Samantha pulled her husband onto the settee. The surprise of the weight nudged Samantha’s pillows making her head wobble. Thomas: Alright Ben, I’m here. Samantha: (To Thom.) He’s in a corridor, that’s why the room is small. (To Ben.) Right Ben? Garcia: No, we got re-assigned to the Thor permanently and we travelled to the Menthar Corridor. Thomas: Which is …? Garcia: A region of space between the Cardassian Union, Breen Confederacy and Tholian Assembly – Samantha: (To Thom.) Is he at war – is our Ben at war?! (To Ben.) Is this war Ben? Garcia: No, nothing like that ma. Thomas: (Shaking his head.) Let him speak Samantha. Anger and worry crimped across Samantha’s face. Samantha: I knew this would happen. I said – I don’t want Ben in a war. Garcia: The Thor is an exploration vessel. There’s no more trouble here than where you are ma – don’t worry. (Ben laughed.) It’s busier and there’s a lot going on – but it’s just folks going about their business. Samantha clasped her hands on her knees. She was less agitated now, but the worry of combat had unsettled her. She shuffled to the edge of the couch and then stood up. Samantha: I need a drink. (Nodding to Thom to keep the conversation going.) Thomas: So, how has the reassignment gone? Settled in? Garcia: It’s a gear change from being planet side. (Beat.) For all my uncertainties about being stationed on a planet right out of the Academy … I sort of miss it. Thomas: Understandable, son. Garcia: We’ve got the hollo-deck. But. Before, I had the gardens, the beach, the forest (Ben’s eyes widened.) continents. Thomas: We’ll it makes sense, it’s a planet Ben. Ben huffed in amused exasperation. Garcia: Paps. Thomas: So, you’re not settled? Ben shook his head and touched the back of his neck. Garcia: It’s not that. I wanted a ship, I got a planet. (Ben shrugged.) Now I’ve got the ship Thomas finished the sentence in unison with Ben. Thomas: -- you want the planet. Garcia: I want the planet. The pair laughed. There was a warmness. Thomas: It’s just change, Ben. It’ll settle. Garcia: I know. Cheers pa. Samantha’s voice could be heard from off in the background. As she got nearer, the hmmm and duuumm of her tune came into focus. Garcia: (Loudly, with a wink to his dad.) There was some news, pa. Samantha: (Calling from the back of the room) News? Ben –what news? Hold on – Thomas shook his head and wagged a finger in feigned rebuke at Ben. Now Thomas’ head wobbled as Samantha surprised the couch with her weight. Samantha: (With arched eyebrows.) News? Come on! Let’s hear. Ben ran his finger along his collar, stopping at the new half pip. Samantha: (Her eyes widening.) Promotion?! Thomas cusped his ear as Samantha screamed. Thomas: Well done Lieutenant ... There was a pause and Ben filled in the blank. Garcia: … Commander pap. Samantha: (Punctuating the sentence with her hands.) Lieutenant Commander Ben Garcia. Samantha clasped her hands together and kissed Thomas on the cheek. Thomas gave her a squeeze back. Samantha: We need to organise a celebration! Let me pull the diary up. Ben sat back in his chair. Thomas smiled. End. ---------------------- Lieutenant Commander Ben Garcia Second Officer/HCO USS Thor NCC-82607 Author ID number: G239102MR0 SB118 News Team
  4. STOP. Just stop. You've managed to found a GREAT example of a sim. One that have made me smile and chuckle all the way. One that mix the joy and silly parts you sometimes see in a Star Trek show and, at the same time, keeps being AWESOME. And Mister @Wes Greaveshas managed to do this he alone so... _____________________________________________ ((Ferenginar, Outskirts of Upper Bowog Bay, . Late evening )) A street race. If someone had asked Wes what was the very last thing he expected a Vulcan Doctor to suggest, a street race on Ferenginar would have topped the list of “there’s no way”. Then to find that not only their physician but their chief engineer had thrown down the gauntlet together, well it all made Wes drastically reconsider his assessment on Vulcan spontaneity. Particularly the spontaneity of drunk Vulcans. What had started as Alieth’s offhand comment about the crew’s new-to-them grav bikes had quickly spiraled into an opportunity to mercilessly hound the intoxicated woman until she committed to her half-baked idea. Now in the pouring rain, he began to regret his campaign to ensure the race actually occurred. The droplets fell like fat, wet, rocks, seeming to ping off the Marine’s sleek black and red racing gear. The Ferengi he bought the suit from assured him that not only would it match the red racing bike, but it would also decrease drag, protect him from debris, and keep him mostly dry. Now that he was wearing it, Wes was pretty sure it was just a scheme to get the salesman some extra latinum and drum up a good excuse for others to place bets on the Marine. He did look fast after all. From his perch on to the side of the starting line Wes examined his position. As soon as it became apparent that the pair of Vulcan officers intended to modify their bike, Wes had raced down to the Marine Deck and enlisted the help of the detachment’s combat engineers. While only half had been around at the time, getting the group to help was simple. The man simply had to explain that the officers of Medical and Engineering thought they could dare challenge the Marines. Wes practically had to beat back the number of volunteers with a stick. Now, kneeling over open panels in the SAG in the soaking rain with eager smiles, two of his combat engineers argued over a modification they were working on. Cooland: Are you crazy! It’s already front heavy as it is. If we throw another power cell in the front the Lieutenant’s gonna be riding a supped-up plow! Porter: No way man, we’ll just reroute some of the extra power to front grav thrusters to compensate. Plus, there’s no way the inducer coil is going to run for longer than a few seconds without it. Cooland: Even if we could compensate, he’ll be riding on a freakin powder keg. Are you going to explain to the skipper how we cooked the Platoon Commander when it goes up in flames? A shiver ran down Wes’s spine and he chose to walk away from the conversation before he learned so much that he refused to ever get within 20 feet of the bike again. He instead paced over towards where Alieth and Sirok were finishing their own modifications. Doing his best to look inconspicuous in his very conspicuous outfit, the man eavesdropped on his opponents. Alieth: How the modifications progress? Sirok: For this race, finished. :: He kept to himself his opinion on what should be done with those particular SAGs.:: Alieth: I see (wiping the rain off her face) what advantage will that give us? Sirok: I have tried to stay within the basic characteristics of the vehicle, but I have improved the drive system to give a higher cornering speed, as well as more top speed time. I have placed several sensors inside to control all technical aspects, I will be able to guide you if you need to make any adjustments during the run. :: Besides being able to obtain performance data for the future design of a SAG under Starfleet standards.:: Wes frowned given the new information, and upon a sideways glance from Sirok, he turned away as if engaged in enthusiastic conversation with a Ferengi. Fortunately further off in the crowd, a rabble-rouser hurled some words of encouragement. Ferengi 1: Hey! Vulcans! I have bet two bars of latinum that you will crash the human into a tree, don't even think about failing, or you will have to deal with my lawyer! Images of Wes colliding with a tree followed immediately by a plume of orange and yellow flame ran through his mind. Maybe his bike would explode if he hit a tree? Wes hoped against hope that his two Marines figured out their power supply issue before the race started. He tried to push the thought from his mind as he strolled back over toward the Red Rocket. Porter has just sealed the last panel as Wes walked up again, with the third Marine nowhere in sight. Greaves: Where’d Cooland go? Porter: Ah, he got his feelings hurt and went off to pout. ::Toothy grin:: Don’t worry sir. I got you. You’re all set. Let’s do this! Before Wes could ask whether he needed to change into something more flame retardant, one of his opponents cut him off. Alieth: Ready to start, Mr. Greaves? Or have you decided to give up? Sirok raised an eyebrow, it seemed that the doctor was using Sobok's advice not to support a comrade but to undermine the morale of a rival. In any case, he did not care about the result of the race, but about the performance of the vehicle and the data he could get from it and from others. Greaves : Whoa, Doc. When did you learn how to talk smack? I know you didn’t have time to learn this morning with the migraine you must have woken up with! We’re ready to rock over here! Alieth: Response Wes anxiously glanced over at Porter who gave him two thumbs up and a wink. Sirok: Do you need me to check your vehicle? Greaves: And let the competition see what we’ve got hiding up our sleeve? Unless you’re going to let us check your work, there’s no way! Keep your nose in your own SAG. Sirok: Response Alieth: Response? A small drone whizzed by close overhead and the crowd swelled in volume. It seemed that the call for initial bets had closed and a hurried Ferengi rushed over to the starting line. Race Organizer: It’s time to start! The patrons are getting impatient and all of the bets are in. You’ve got two minutes before we start. ::jabbing a finger toward Alieth:: If you’re not ready to go in time we’ll seek recompense as stated in the contract! Sirok/Alieth: Response Another drone soared by and Wes realized the small flying machines weren't courier drones but were cameras. Greaves: Wait a sec Alieth. ::exasperated:: It this being televised?! Sirok/Alieth: Response Wes jogged back toward his SAG shaking his head. A competitive pair of Vulcans. Now he’d seen everything. Wes snapped his racing helmet into place and a small HUD activated in his visor. The Marine smiled at the handiwork of the modifications the crew had made in such a short time. Porter helped Wes onto the bike and got the thrusters started. With a low hum, the SAG hopped gingerly off the ground, albeit with a slight forward tilt. It took no time at all to finesse the bike to the starting line where Alieth waited atop her own. A gleeful smile played across his face as Wes revved the engine and winked at Alieth. The crowd swelled again as an announcer counted off toward the start of the race. From behind the pair of racers, Corporal Cooland ran down a small hill toward the starting line waving his arms and shouting something indistinct. Unfortunately for Wes, he didn’t hear, nor see the Marine behind him. With the wave of a flag, a cheer from the crowd, and a roar of engines, the contenders shot off onto the course. ========================= 1st Lieutenant Wes Greaves Marine Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 E239702WG0 =========================
  5. @Wes Greaves and @Addison MacKenzie had create this HILAROUS piece of gold I've LOVED almost since the first line. The sass on it is over 9000 and it's a good GOOD example of WHY medical visit could be AWESOME. Just saying Mr. Greaves would maybe die later in an unknow circunstances that could involve, or not, a logically outraged vulcan ------------------------------------------------- ((Main Shuttle Bay, Deck 7, USS Thor) The Ra settled onto the metal deck plating of the shuttlebay, it’s hull still smoking slightly from the flight through the intense ion storm. Wes unbuckled his harness and attempted to stand. The flight had been jarring and the Marine felt like he had just finished an intense spin cycle on the world’s largest washing machine. Not one, but two storage compartments had burst open on the flight, the second of which spilling its contents directly into his lap and onto his injured leg. Apparently it had only seventeen twelve minutes from takeoff to landing, and apparently that had been long enough for his anger to reside, his medication to wear off, and one of his stitches to painfully tear. The result wasn’t pretty. His attempt at standing immediately failed, and a wave of dizziness ran through him making the interior of the shuttle spin. Fortunately one of the colonists caught the man and helped steady him. Wes could feel fresh blood seeping down his leg, and a spreading red splotch on his patched EV suit suggested the bleeding may actually be significant once again. Pandorn: ::standing up and moving to the colonists:: Everyone, watch your step getting out. Once out of the shuttle, get clear of the shuttle and wait for the medical staff. ::slight smile:: And welcome to the USS Thor. ::to Wes:: You as well Wes. Let Doctor Mackenzie look at you, no problem? Greaves: You won’t hear any more protest from me sir. On it. Wes nodded appreciation to the colonist through gritted teeth after his head cleared and hobbled his way down the ramp of the shuttle. (( Sickbay, Deck 10, USS Thor )) When MacKenzie received an updated report of the colonists, she was surprised to see the extent of some of their injuries. Nevertheless, she had the medical bay prepped and ready to receive patients. When Quen reported that the Ra had docked and that the priority patients were being shipped up to Sickbay, MacKenzie was ready to roll. Surprisingly (or, perhaps not), the first patient to make his way into Sickbay was Mr. Greaves. MacKenzie watched as he hobbled through the doors on his badly mangled leg. Unaccompanied. MacKenzie folded her arms. Wes limped into the huge room of biobeds. A wave of nausea was immediately quelled by the stern look of the Thor’s Chief Medical Officer. MacKenzie: Lieutenant, where is Doctor Alieth? Greaves: ::With a cruel smile:: Ma’am, our favorite vulcan physician is currently located somewhere underground several thousand kilometers below us. There was a pause, and MacKenzie could feel her jaw begin to tighten. MacKenzie: ...She’s where? Wes eyed the nearest bed, his leg aching painfully. How he longed to be rid of the suit and given a fresh injection of some chemical [...]tail to make his troubles fade away. Despite that longing, the vindictive sense of revenge took precedence. Greaves: Ensign Alieth snuck off the shuttle and is now planet side with the away team. Her jaw tightened further. MacKenzie: ::muttering:: Why, that green-blooded son-of-a- … Greaves: I wholeheartedly echo that sentiment ma’am. Wes took a cautious step towards the nearest bed, only to have his bad leg nearly give out underneath him. Muttering curses under his breath, he dropped the helmet to his EV suit which had been slung under his arm. The metal of the helmet clanged as it bounced along the deck to finally slide to a rest at the foot of the bed. Dried blood could clearly be seen coating the back of the helmet. A small, yet evidently still unamused smile crept on MacKenzie’s face as she approached the man to help him up onto a biobed. Once he was situated, she grabbed a tricorder from a nearby instrument cart and returned to his side. MacKenzie: So, what happened?? Greaves: Well ma’am, it’s sort of a long story. Which part do you want to hear first? The part about the underground dragon, the part about an ancient medical procedure, or the part where Miss Alieth snuck away to go on adventures? MacKenzie: ...dragon. MacKenzie scanned the wound in his leg and gently pressed on some of the tissue. Wes gritted his teeth and snapped his eyes shut at the pain. Greaves: We were working our way through a complex of tunnels when one of the natives caused a cave in. MacKenzie: …a dragon caused a cave-in. Is this a joke? Greaves: Uh, no. Sorry Doc. I tend to try and make jokes when I’m uncomfortable. It was a sentient creature native to the planet. Some kind of tunneling species. One of them burrowed underneath us and caused a cave in. I fell along with Lieutenant Commander Pandorn. I must have lost consciousness because the next thing I remember is waking up with a few hundred pounds of rock on my legs. Commander Pandorn pulled me out from under the rocks, but it tore my suit and cut my leg really bad. My suit got flooded with the local atmo and radiation. Been coughing, bleeding, and feeling dizzy ever since. MacKenzie: You don’t say. MacKenzie looked at him skeptically, then held up the tricorder for him to see. MacKenzie: You’ve got a lot of tissue damage, a concussion, mild radiation poisoning and you’ve lost a lot of blood. Greaves: ::cracking a wry smile through pain:: See, I knew this was just another Tuesday. MacKenzie was not amused. MacKenzie: Let’s start with the radiation poisoning… She loaded a hypospray of Hyronalyn and pressed it against his neck. MacKenzie: The leg is going to take a little bit of work - I’m going to irrigate and disinfect the wound first, then use a protoplaser to repair the tissue. We’ll have one of the nurses stitch you up when I’m done. … let me know if the pain is too much. I know you’ve already been given some sedatives, and I don’t want to overload you. The soft hiss of the hypospray was reassuring. oO Sure beats needles Oo Wes thought to himself as his nausea subsided greatly. The relief from some of the unpleasantness registered on his face. Greaves: Ah, that’s the good st…. The Marine didn’t finish the thought as an unexpected wave of pain burst in his leg. MacKenzie had flushed the wound and removed a few small bits of debris, then started the work of repairing the leg. Wes gritted his teeth and looked down as the Doctor went to work. He was pretty sure the pain meds simply had worn off, but his pride resisted saying anything. Besides the pain was only terrible when she was actively poking and prodding the wound, which was only half the time. The other half of the time the pain was just miserable. MacKenzie: So, tell me about what they did to fix you up… She knew the answer already - the rudimentary stitches spoke volumes, but wanted to keep him talking and distracted. Wes opened his mouth to offer a reply but closed it again in a grimace as the Doctor began some of the tissue regeneration. After a second or two he was able to get used to the new sense of grating on his nerve endings. Greaves: ::slightly strained:: Honestly, I’m not exactly sure. One of the doctors down on the surface gave me a few shots. You know, all old school like. Needles and all. Then he grabbed a needle and some wire and stitched the wound closed. Past that, no idea what he did. It worked alright. Cleared my head, took away the pain ::trailing off:: Wes shuddered again and shifted his weight from one side of the bed to the other. To hell with it. He was going to ask. Greaves: All right Ma’am. You win. Can I have something for the pain? That, or grab a hatchet and take the whole damn leg quick. Addison’s brow furrowed as she started to look around Sickbay for a lost piece of equipment. MacKenzie: I seem to have left my hatchet at home… ::shrugging:: Lucky for you, I guess. Pain getting to you? Wes chuckled softly. The joke and the resulting laughter helped, even if not much. Greaves: Sorry. It can be tough to maintain a composure when someone is actively digging around in my insides. MacKenzie offered a soft smile as she loaded a hypospray with a dose of Rexlin that was just strong enough to offer relief, but not enough to knock him out. MacKenzie: You should begin to feel some relief now... Wes frowned. The medication immediately dulled some of the pain, but didn’t take it away altogether. Greaves: Good enough doc. The day really was getting to him and eating away at his usual professionalism. Maybe he was closer to his breaking point than he had thought. Typically picking a fight with a starship’s CMO was a bad idea. Doing so while one had medical instruments in and around a large open wound was just asking for it. Wes quickly attempted to change the topic and pointed at the wound in his thigh. A wound dangerously close to some of his more sensitive organs. Greaves: ::Pointing near his crotch:: How’s it looking down there doc? Is it going to leave a scar? I hear chicks dig scars. The pregnant silence that followed the comment pressed deeply against Wes’s already frayed psyche. He silently promised to himself he would just shut up going forward. There was simply no need to talk. Ever. Again. She locked eyes with him for what she was sure was an uncomfortable amount of time, then cleared her throat in a very deliberate manner. MacKenzie: I don’t think there’s any cause for concern. ...everything...looks alright, and I think any scarring will be minimal. MacKenzie finished the tissue repair and stood back to examine her work. Satisfied, she motioned for one of the nurses to come over and close the wound. Addison made it a point to occasionally observe the work of the doctors and nurses under her charge, and to note their strengths and weaknesses. As the nurse worked on the sutures, she continued to press Greaves. MacKenzie: And about the part where Doctor Alieth snuck off the shuttle… Greaves: Well Ma’am, I didn’t exactly see her depart. We had a brief. . . ::pause:: conversation about my ability to remain on mission. I boarded the shuttle, and when we closed up the ramp and left, Ensign Alieth was no longer on the shuttle with us. MacKenzie: A mistake? Greaves: I know the Ensign. She’s not one to make mistakes. She knew what she was doing. MacKenzie: ::flatly:: I have no doubt. What did you two discuss? Greaves: Well ma’am, like I said, it was a conversation about my fitness to remain on duty. MacKenzie: No doubt she ordered you back to the ship and you protested... Wes frowned again. The medication had begun to work as advertised, but he now felt a new sense of discomfort under the stern gaze of the intimidating redhead. The woman knew what had transpired on the surface. Now he was sure of it. Greaves: I see. Ensign Alieth must have had enough time to forward on some of her . . . recommendations to you. I assume to ensure that I followed them? MacKenzie: Well, you’re here, aren’t you? You’re going to keep your leg, so it sounds like we both did our jobs today. Greaves: I can’t argue with results ma’am. I’ll try to take it easy for the next few days. ::Smiling warmly:: Maybe I’ll keep PT down to only a half marathon. Addison picked up a PADD and made some notes to the officer’s file, then shook the device at him. MacKenzie: I’ll make sure I send this over to Major Parker with my recommendations, that way if anything happens, you’ll have us both to deal with. In the meantime, try to get some rest and I’ll send someone by to check on you in a little bit. [End] --- Lieutenant Commander Addison MacKenzie, M.D., Ph.D., FASFS Chief Medical Officer USS Thor V239601AM0 & 2nd Lieutenant Wes Greaves Marine Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 E239702WG0
  6. Very, very impressed with how well @Sirok handled this beautiful mission-ending sim! Plus the Interstellar soundtrack fits VERY well. -- OCC::I recommend read this post (and all the last ones) with this soundtrack: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lM5IxG1qhl0 _____________________________________________________ ((Main Engineering, USS Thor)) Sirok: =/\= Sirok to Captain Kells. Probe ready to launch on your mark. =/\= Kells: =/\= Proceed, Chief. =/\= Sirok: =/\= Do you need anything else, Captain? =/\= Kells: =/\= We appear to be about to beam up the last away team members and the colonists... but I want to stay in orbit of Vel Maijan for as long as you can give me. =/\= Sirok =/\= By your command. Sirok out. =/\= As soon as he received the order, he sent the probe towards the star. He tried to make it go at maximum speed, so he could send useful data before they had to leave. Kortho: These modifications will help us stay in orbit, look how already we are remaining more stable. It's small but I believe the effect is growing. Sirok: It is a good idea to increase our remaining time by 30% ::It may not seem much, but they were talking about a space-time anomaly affecting an entire solar system. :: Kortho: We can't beam up more than twelve at a time, with all this interference. Will there be enough time? Sirok: We have very little time to spare.If they don't beam up soon, we'll have to leave them behind or travel where and when the anomaly takes us. ::The computer data was clear, they had just over 15 minutes before they reached the point of no return. Yang's modifications were very effective, but that event exceeded every scale known to date.:: Kortho: We can take the power from replicator systems and science labs. Sirok: I already did it. ::He preferred not to have sacrificed ship functionality, but Kells' orders and intent seemed clear, they would not leave without the away team and human settlers, so in energy-saving plan Sirok had been quite aggressive.:: I only left power to one of our replicators, in case we need any parts, and to those in the infirmary. I am going to draw power from life support. ::It was something he had planned, but he could only do it in the last minutes before the event. There would be air left in the rooms, and the residual heat would have to be stirred until they left or were dragged away. At least in that second case they would have plenty of energy to redirect from the warp drive, as they would not need it to escape.:: Consoles began to display the batteries' energy of the batteries as they beamed up the people from the planet. In spite of the pattern enhancers the consumption of each trip was humongous, since they had to make them pass through an enormous amount of rock, plus the interference of the anomaly and the atmosphere interacting with the gases of the nebula captured by the planet. The Vulcan's calculations had been accurate for the drain they were having. Sirok had reserved the amount of power based on the number of colonists he was told, plus the five members of Commander Teller's away team. According to the latest reports, they had gained a slight margin because the away team had been reduced to three, the others would go up on the Ra. And at least one casualty on the part of the colonists. If they didn't use it to transport anyone else they would get a few more seconds of stay and a little more time to make the transports safely. Sirok: =/\=Sirok to Captain Kells, 10 minutes to point of no return, 168 people remaining in the planet.=/\= Sirok had turned off the holographic table, but maintained a traditional two-dimensional view that still displayed graphically the ship and her surroundings. Despite Thor's efforts to stay in her space-time, it became increasingly apparent that the surrounding space was being drawn to the anomaly. Ion discharges between the atmosphere and the nebula resulted in huge rays that illuminated the outside of the starship despite its distance. The gas cloud that formed the nebula showed changes in direction that were not what they should be according to normal natural forces, creating denser shreds in which greater ion storms built up. Sirok: =/\=Sirok to Captain Kells, 8 minutes to point of no return, 128 people remaining in the planet.=/\= The Thor's shield became increasingly visible, as if it were holding a continuous fire from an external enemy. Small wear cracks appeared on the shielding plates closest to the bussard collectors, which would have been the result of the ship being active and not being changed or repaired for decades. The deflector dish glowed with increased intensity, due to the energy used to generate the anti-chroniton particles. Sirok: =/\=Sirok to Captain Kells, 6 minutes to point of no return, 89 people remaining in the planet.=/\= In engineering, activity boiled, systems were pushed to the limit and different crew members were sent out to try to mitigate the effects caused by trying to keep the ship in one piece. Without being the most pressing matter, Sirok couldn't avoid to look at the state of the probe that had been sent towards the star was getting closer and closer to what, according to his theory, should be the origin of the singularity. Sirok: =/\=Sirok to Captain Kells, 4 minutes, 49 people remaining in the planet.=/\= Despite being pushed to their upper limitations, the inertial stabilizers couldn't compensate everything that was happening outside. A growing vibration began to be felt throughout the bowels of the ship. Outside the hull, several bolts cracked quite close, yet failed to impact due of the anti-anomaly. In case they had doing so, they probably won't destroy the Thor, but the starship would have been heavily damaged. Sirok: =/\=Sirok to Captain Kells, 2 minutes, only the away team and 7 colonists remain on the planet. The probe has reached its destination, collecting data. =/\= Soon every human colonists and the away team should be transported and the ship could leave. But Thor kept showing more and more how hard she was trying to accomplish the mission. From the outside the shields were glowed brightly, as they worked at maximum, so much that the ship's silhouette could hardly be seen. Some plates near the bussard collectors had been shattered and then reassembled, but they were not attached to the hull anymore. The vibration increased and anything not properly attached to walls or floor began to fell. The usually gentle humming of the warp drive, omnipresent in every working starship, evolved into a more high-pitched shriek, which become a little disturbing to crew members with a more acute hearing. Sirok tried to keep his eye on everything that was going on, so that the ship wouldn't disintegrate, but he still couldn't help but look at the data coming from the probe. For the vulcan, the information coming from the little autonomous craft was the most important thing at the moment. He understood the importance of saving lives, and of rescuing the away team. Nevertheless, if they were able to get out of there, the most important scientist event recorded to date was happening just at the other side of the hull, and they could gather some data of the largest space-time anomaly known, one that, to this moment, was barely a mystery. As they were trapped by that very same anomaly, they need to know what was causing it. The first useful piece of information was a slight increase in the chroniton particles density. During the whole trip it seemed that their concentration only decreased around the Thor, yet it was remained a constant in the rest of the system, embracing it. Sirok tried to adjust the probe so that the particle augmentation wouldn't disturb the probe, hence it was able to find its source. Just at that moment, something else arrived at his display, as the probe detected an exotic object, perfectly spherical, but it was almost impossible to have information about its size or composition. Sirok: =/\= Sirok to Captain Kells everyone onboard, 1 minute to the point of no return.=/\= Just before it stopped transmitting data, the probe managed to send a single image. It was a sphere 500 km in diameter, with no single irregularities on a surface of fully polished metal that reflected the surrounding space. The probe did not provide any information about its energy source or the composition of the metal shell, except that it partly reflected the sensor beams as well as it did with light. Sirok raised an eyebrow as he read all this. Sirok: Curious... ((End of Scene for Sirok)) ==================== Ensign Sirok Acting Chief Engineering Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 Fleet Captain A. Kells, Commanding E239702S10
  7. @Quen Deena has a special ability to write very subtle yet emotionally realistic characters. The impact of discovery and the insight of a community leader concerned about the ramifications of what she has just discovered is perfectly reflected in this SIM and it is clear that there is much more going on inside Flynn's mind than what she says or what is written. A character development worthy of reading, emotional and frankly well composed. Congratulations Quen! __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ((Transmitter Room, Vel Maijan Subterra)) A new voice broke through the interference. Brodie: =/\= Commander…it’s Brodie. You mentioned new friends…how is the situation at the colony? Are you able to confirm they sent the signal? =/\= Teller: =/\= In a manner of speaking, Counselor. Apparently the distress signal was originally sent by the leader of the original colony....approximately seventy years ago. That mans granddaughter & current head of the colony apparently got it restarted a few weeks ago when the seismic disturbances returned. =/\= Brodie: =/\= Do we know how many colonists we’re looking at? =/\= Ellen listened, a disinterested expression on her face despite her interest in who exactly this new person was. Teller: =/\= Wait one, we haven't had the chance to conduct a census and our tricorders are nearly useless down here. =/\= Teller nodded in her direction. Ellen knew the number off the top of her head - saw it every day, updated it with every birth, every death... Flynn: =/\= One hundred ninety-three. =/\= Kells: =/\= Almost two hundred? We can accommodate them easily. =/\= Flynn: oO Accomodate? What the hell? Oo Teller: =/\= We'll get that equipment setup as soon as we get it, sir. =/\= Kells: =/\= Good. On the double, Commander. I'll see you soon. Thor, out. =/\= The room hung with an eerie silence once the comm clicked off. Ellen watched Teller lean back from the console, taking his sweet time about it, too. Answers were needed, and answers she was going to get. He considered something for a moment, her eyes burning virtual holes in the back of his head, and then spoke. Teller: Ms. Flynn, is there a place we can speak privately? Flynn: My office - right down the corridor, second door on the left. Teller: Very well, I'll join you in a moment. She nodded tersely as the commander began assigning his team to various tasks. On her way out the room, she paused next to Armiger, lurking near the edge. Flynn: Keep an eye on them - I think they’ll need it. Armiger: Response _________ ((Flynn’s Office)) After Starfleet’s reaction to the colony, she was curious to see Teller’s reaction to her office. It was a tight space, sparsely furnished like the rest of the colony. The desk (partially supported by the wall) was clear except for a couple of partially-functioning computer pads, with just enough space in front of it for a visitors’ chair and a sliding door - which she’d currently left open. There was just enough room between the desk and the opposite wall to walk behind to her own seat. Against the back wall hung a few shelves of record books and a smooth, roughly rectangular piece of slate with the number ‘193’ written in chalk and circled. Ellen gestured to the door as Teller entered. He seated himself opposite her once he’d closed it. Teller: Thank you, Ms. Flynn. You helped us get back in touch with our ship, and I owe you an explanation but before I start - I have one very important question for you. It may sound absurd but, please, humor me. Flynn: ::dryly:: I’ll try. Teller: Ellen....what year is it? Ellen stared for a moment, blinking. Had he really just asked her that? Flynn: What year is it? 2234. Teller blinked. Teller: Ellen...this is going to be difficult to hear, but it's the truth. The current calendar year is 2397. I understand that, from your perspective, this colony has only experienced about seventy years of linear time since your grandfather sent that distress call. In actuality, that was nearly two hundred years ago. According to the history books, this colony - in fact, this entire world, vanished without a trace in 2164. Twenty-three ninety-seven. The pieces were falling into place now. No wonder they’d arrived with more tech than a small starship…. And all their talk about ‘temporal’ this and ‘chronitons’ that. She could have kicked herself - she should have guessed it earlier! Temporal/time… Chronitions/chron/time… It was right there, staring her in the face, and she never in her wildest dreams would have guessed. Twenty-three ninety-seven. Two hundred and thirty some-odd years. How could that even be possible? Something straight out of Wells, that was it… Flynn: oO Holy hell, you can’t make this stuff up… Oo I see. She kept her response plain, her face carefully neutral. Teller continued: Teller: Unfortunately, there's more. The quakes your grandfather experienced, and the ones that began again here a few weeks ago, appear to be a sign that this world is about to vanish again. I won't lie to you - we don't fully understand this phenomena, and we're in no position to try to stop it. We need to get you and your people off this planet and out of this system as soon as possible. Leave?! Some hab domes, maybe a little terraforming equipment, an answer to what in the hell that reptile thing was wreaking havoc down in the tunnels. That’s what they’d been looking for from the Federation. A status update and a bit on ongoing support. Instead… this. Flynn: So not only are we a hundred and sixty-something years ahead of where we should be, now we have to leave our home? Teller: I doubt this is the kind of help you hoped for when you sent that distress call, but I can promise you that you'd be more than welcome into the Federation - your people could be resettled entirely on some new world and left to their own devices, or you could go back to Earth - see how we've managed over the last few centuries. I think you'd be pretty happy with what you found there. Ellen sat back. It was a hell of a proposition, either way. Leaving the planet was… not exactly what she’d had in mind. Not even a possibility she’d considered. Flynn: ::quietly:: Doesn’t seem like there’s much of an option… ::normal:: You know - when we left the Federation, it was just a loose collection of planets that could barely agree on what to call themselves… It would be nice to return to our original purpose- As the two discussed the future of the colony, heavy footsteps thundered against the metal flooring outside. Barely a second after they stopped, a sharp knock rattled the door. Ellen held up a hand to pause the conversation and called them inside. Juan and Constable Murphy still had most of their EV suits on - and from the panting and beads of sweat, Ellen guessed they had just sprinted back from wherever it was they found the pile of junk carried between them. Pieces of what appeared to be some kind of tubing snapped like crackers, the exposed internal circuitry giving off weak, blue-white sparks. Others were melted and fused together. EC-31 at work here, too… It had to be. Nothing else she knew could have destroyed something on this level. Teller’s eyes widened, a mix of disbelief and dismay. He studied the wreckage for a moment, before picking up a dark box that was largely untouched, save a few scratches and dents. Evidently, it had no appeal to the creatures. Teller tapped his badge, and spoke. Teller: =/\= Teller to Kells - Sir, we've got a new problem. =/\= While Teller conferred with his ship, Ellen turned to the two men. She'd sent three people. There were two in front of her now... Flynn: Leni? The constable shook his head. Ellen pulled her lips between her teeth, focused on a scratch on the desk, and gave a heavy nod. She picked up a nub of chalk, and turned to the count board. She pulled her sleeve halfway up her palm, rubbed out the ‘3’, and replaced it with a ‘2’. If anything could make her decision for her… Flynn: I’ll speak to her family later. Thank you, gentlemen. Get yourselves sorted - we may be needing you again later. As the two men left the cramped space, Teller had finished communicating with the ship and closed the channel. Flynn: So? Teller: Response Well, that wasn’t good. Flynn: I see. And let me guess, ::gesturing to the pile of debris:: that was your only way out of here? Teller: Response Ellen’s eyes widened - that was definitely not good... Flynn: As in - to the surface? Everyone? Teller: Response Another unthought-of scenario ran through Ellen’s mind. Getting everyone to the surface - everyone - would be literally impossible, given the colony’s current supply levels. Twenty suits, that’s all they had. Well, nineteen now... Flynn: I’m going to be frank with you, Mister Teller. We don’t have enough suits for that. And I’ll be damned if we’re leaving anyone behind. Teller: Response Tag/TBC __________ Ellen Flynn Colony Leader Vel Maijan Subterra E239602QD0
  8. ((OOC: The first of two incredible JP's establishing an antagonist for the Thor's current mission, The Lost Colony. Fantastic alien characterization and perspective work @Alex Brodie & @Alieth!)) ((Underground Caverns, Vel Maijan)) They moved through the tunnel of the serrated stalagmites. It was a narrow passage they rarely followed, their resources long ago exhausted. But there was something new, something strange there. The youngest of them halted at the front, rested on his forelegs, and tested the air with the tip of his long tongue. He let the essence pass through the specialized organs inside his mouth during the time it took for the water to drip from the distant roof three times. Then, and only then, did he emit a series of high-pitched clicks that expressed his excitement They were on the right track, what they were looking for was in front of them. The larger of the two followed behind, their ponderous movements slow and deliberate in comparison to their companions more excitable energy. The plates of mineralized skin flexed as they shifted through the network of tunnels that spanned the subsurface. Shifting through the narrow gaps between the rock formations. Moving into the larger cavern to join their young cohort they were able to stand and stretch - their frame unfurling as they tested the air - familiar, stale. It was unmistakable though, there was something new in the atmosphere. Something rich and powerful...something they hadn’t tasted before. It had been many cycles since the Scourge had befallen them - though after all this time there was little point in concerning themselves with the past. The present crisis was the priority for the colony. He emanated a series of clicks as he dragged a claw across the exposed rock-face, scaring the surface and sampling the dust that remained. It wasn’t the most nourishing but would provide some sustenance in the short term. A second clawed swipe dislodged a larger clast, and he broke it in two, passing one to the youngling. He gnawed at the stone delicately, paused the gesture for a brief moment, and then resumed it shortly, his movements less enthusiastic than they had initially been. A questioning murmur rumbled deep in his throat. A question. And a complaint. The older Azcou looked at the younger and understood the reaction - but it was all they had. The smaller one leaned his head to the side and clicked his jaws briefly. The tunnel in front of them sang in reply, its nooks and crannies repeating the older's rhyme. And there, almost at the edge of the echo, was the oddity. The novelty. The slender creature wriggled a few strides forward, his slender limbs carrying him swiftly and efficiently in the direction of their objective. However, soon he halted, bristling with the thin mineral deposits that covered his body. The older creature came close behind the younger one, sniffed the air...yes...he could smell it too. It wouldn’t be far now… The two creatures continued down the dark path - their scales hardening and changing for what was to come. They knew the unknown was a risk...and they also knew there was little alternative. They must have travelled miles - not that it mattered. The larger Azcou took another sample from the wall and lashed it with his tongue. The marked area began to effervesce and the material began to turn to an amorphous gel. He clicked and hissed as he saw the look on his fellows face. Orh’am: Are you going to feed a young baby, Cth'am? ::The younger one's clicks rang out cheeky, but with the playfulness that comes with acquaintance.:: Cth’am: I’m not as young as I once was…neither are my teeth. Orh'am produced a low, rumbling sound in the lower part of his ribcage, and pursed his lips gently, revealing the sharp set of needle-like teeth that embellished his jaws. Orh’am: You still have many cycles left in you, my old friend. The colony needs you. The younger one's gurgling had sounded reassuring, but as soon as the silence thickened among them once more, it grew increasingly serious. That was not an expedition for leisure, but rather for need. Cth’am: How far do you think to the source? The smaller one turned his head forward, and repeated the sound again, showing the intricate skein of corridors in front of them. The reverberations built up the complex image in the frontal part of his brain, as clear as if he were seeing them. He knew that Orh'am saw the same thing as him, his echolocation senses as sharp as his own and attuned to the same frequencies. Orh’am: Half a cycle if we follow the tunnels. ::He tilted his head and pursed his lips again::. About a quarter of that time if we open a new one. The larger Azcou turned his attention to the cave wall...it would take some effort but it would still be faster. Cth’am: Then we dig. Orh'am said naught and just wagged his long tail swiftly. The whistle it produced expressed his acquiescence to the plan. Cth’am unfurled his large frame, his tail extending out behind him as he bent forwards to face the cavern wall. He pulled back and brought a driving slash down across the rack face - the stone splintering and shattering under the blow. The younger Azcou lingered behind, sat on his hind legs while he monitored the progress of his more robust and muscle-bound comrade. Once Cht'am had worn himself out, he would take over, progressing quickly through the stone outcropping that stood in their path. There was no time to spare. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Written By Ensign Alieth (Orh’am) Medical Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 Writer ID: E239702A10 & Lt. Cmdr. Alexander Brodie (Cth’am) Chief Counselor USS Thor NCC-82607 Writer ID.: A239005BM0
  9. ((OOC: A fantastic JP establishing one of the MSNPC 'factions' the Thor is going to encounter during their current mission, The Lost Colony. My sincerest compliments to @Ben Garcia & @Quen Deena)) (( Structural technician team delta completing authorised duties near Vel Maijan Subterra Development Zone )) Air hissed, and the aerosol splattered the wall with blue specks. The hiss expired, the can rattled and out shot a thick, crisp stream of blue. The circle was sprayed first. Imperfect, but functional. A stroke left and then a stroke right. That filled the circle with a cross. It had been marked for further measurements. She stood back a moment, checking her tag. The cross was tight and streak free. The circle disappointed her, like always. Her supervisor called out. She glanced over, held up her free hand and stumbled on the workbag. That’s when the canister fell and rolled. She was always diligent. She always took it slow and followed the protocol. They’d done a good job though. They’d worked hard. It was break, and the sup’s joke had made them all laugh. Later, when she’d unravel the bandages and pull back the gauze, she’d guess the laugh had made them all careless. She lent down, like anyone might, and grabbed the canister. The pain wouldn’t hit her for a few seconds, for there was still her gloves to peel into. It was panic that made her scream. The panic of seeing the canister choke and smoulder as she held it in her hand. She threw it back down - there was not much else she could do now. The second scream was pain. She passed out before the third. (( CD’s office, primary medical unit, Vel Maijan Subterra. )) Rick bit his stylus as he read the report back. Attending: Rick Armiger, Chief Doctor. Patient: Kassy McBill, Senior Structural Technician Summary: Patient came into contact with biological substance echo-charlie-thirty-one during authorised duties. Rick tapped the end of his stylus on the desk as he gulped a mouthful of water. Signs of activity this close to Vel Maijan Subterra was worrying. Rick continued to proof read his report: Contact resulted in the destruction of the patient’s right thumb, index finger and middle finger. In line with current medical protocol the right hand was amputated to control substance echo-charlie-thirty-one and prevent contagion. Samples have been collected from the contaminated appendage prior to its transport to the disposal site in line with protocols for managing contact with substance echo-charlie-thirty- .… A knock at the door flicked Rick’s eyes up from the screen. Outside, Ellen pulled the door open just enough to poke her head in. Flynn: Now a good time? Rick pushed his chair back and smiled. It was good to see a friendly face. Armiger: Grab a seat. Ellen shifted a heavy box labelled ‘EC-31’ to the floor and sat herself in the newly-vacated chair. Flynn: How’s Kass? Armiger: Sedated. (Rick raised his eyebrows.) One conversation I’m happy to put off. Ellen pressed her palms against her knees, breathing a gasp of equal tension and relief. Finally, a survivor.. Flynn: Alive… (beat) I don’t envy you. She won’t take it well. Armiger: No. (Rick rolled the stylus along the table.) No she won’t. (Rick took a breath and looked at Ellen.) She’ll adapt. She’ll pull through. She has to. Flynn: I’d like to talk to her when she wakes up. Maybe she saw something that can give us a clue... Armiger: Of course. (Rick spoke with compassion.) Let’s give her another hour or two before … (Rick paused.) … before we turn her world upside down, eh? Ellen tucked a lock of ginger hair behind her ear. She leaned forward in her chair until her elbows met her knees, forehead pressed against her palms as she stared at the floor. She was tired. Tired of fighting something they could not detect, could not see until it was too late - something that took life and limb faster than anything they’d ever seen before. Flynn: Six fatalities in twelve weeks… (She sat back up after a moment with a heavy breath.) I’m putting the project on hold. Elbows on the table, Rick cupped his forehead between his hands. He squoze at the temples. There was no relief. It did not come. Pausing the project would stoke discontent and fan the flames of fear. The project had been a unifying force for the colony. It was something to be hopeful about. Rob them of that and … Rick took a breath and rubbed his forehead. He sat back now, one hand over the armrest while the other ran through his choppy black hair. Rick rested the hand on the crown of his head as he looked at Ellen huddled on her chair, and then out past her at Kass through the observation window. Pausing the project bought them time. Maybe Ellen could distract them by upping preparatory work and manufacturing. She’d pulled off such sleight of hand before; she was a shrewd leader and that might buy her enough leeway to weather out this storm - for all of them to get through it. Armiger: There’ll be some resistance, Ellen. The project. (Rick paused.) It means a lot. Flynn: I know. There’s no right answer here, Doc. We’ve managed so far, we’ll be fine without the expansion for a while. Have to tighten up the rationing - break up more fights… Ellen stared at a chunk of quartz embedded in the rock wall behind Rick. What had been a population of eighty when their grandfathers first went underground now numbered nearly two hundred. Just enough to start outgrowing the cavern they’d originally settled in. Over the past year, teams had been heading deeper in - scouting the best possible route for expansion. It had been going well, until they’d encountered the substance. Three died on the day they first discovered the foamy, gelatinous, rock-like substance lining the walls of one of the caverns being surveyed: their bodies burned and disintegrated nearly beyond DNA recognition. Subsequent encounters had not yielded better results. Amputation could spare a life, when contact with the substance was limited. Although, with fewer victims living than dead, the longer-term effects remained to be seen... Flynn: But we can’t keep losing people. There aren’t enough of us to keep fighting this … (gesturing toward the box) thing. And I know you’ll agree with me there. (Beat.) Any closer to figuring out what it is? Rick followed Ellen’s glance towards the containment box and shook his head. Armiger: Beyond the last report? (Rick shook his head sharply.) No. We know it’s highly acidic and contains two distinct bacteria. Jury’s out on the bacteria. (Rick made a humming noise.) The team is of the opinion that whatever the substance is, it’s not excreted by the rock - it’s being deposited by something. Flynn: Keep at it. Sam’s got the transmitter working - still can’t change the message. Armiger: The team is analysing samples from Kass. We’re pushing hard on this Ellen. We’re trying the experimental procedures on these samples. (Rick shifted in his seat.) We’re going to unpick this. Rick paused at the thought of Sam; the last time he saw Sam, that transmitter was getting a kicking. Rick laughed. Security had stepped in at one point citing charges of vandalism. Armiger: (Laughing.) Sam finally kicked that thing into submission then? Flynn: Kicked, slapped, threatened to sell it for scrap… No idea who he was planning on selling it to - (laughing) he’d have to get it working first! It was good to see Ellen smile, if only fleetingly. Rick smiled and nodded. Armiger: Someone might hear it. Let’s hold onto that hope for now. Ellen raised her eyebrows. Flynn: And let’s hold onto the hope that whoever hears it is friendly... Rick exhaled audibly at the thought of them attracting more hostile attention. It was a scenario that had been chewed over by the department heads at the colony steering meetings for months. Their repeated cautions had delayed the activation of the transmitter. In that delay, lives had been lost until finally the argument for sending the distress called outweighed the concerns. Rick changed the subject. Armiger: What time is the debrief? Flynn: Eight. Sam’ll patch you in if you can’t make it. Rick looked out at Kass. The sedation kept her unawares of the horror she had yet to wake up to. Eight, Rick repeated it to himself. That only gave Rick the best part of two hours. An hour to check in on the team’s experimental analysis of the EC-31 samples, and then an hour to speak to Kass. That assumed there would be no more inbound incidents to the primary medical unit (PMU) between then and now. Armiger: I’ll try Ellen, you know that. (Rick noded in the direction of Kass.) I might miss the start. Ellen pushed herself up out of the chair with a long look out at Kass. Flynn: Let me know, Doc. I’ll be over at Sam’s. Armiger: (Rick mustered a smile.) Tell Sam congrats. (Rick paused and clarified.) The transmitter. (Rick’s smile dropped.) Ellen - they’ll understand the pause. They’ll have to. Rick watched as Ellen left the office. In several paces, she was gone from sight, eclipsed by the ward partition. Rick sat and took a minute. Tonight’s debrief would be tough. The department heads would need some shepherding; it’d be a strenuous meeting. Rick decided to make sure he had as much data available to help Ellen as he could. That meant getting down to the containment lab and checking the team’s progress. Out in the corridor, Ellen leaned against the wall. Two hours. Two hours to come up with a solid way to break the news about the expansion delay, while simultaneously trying to get the transmitter to broadcast something, anything, other than a seventy-year old distress call. The call was already coming from a man who was long dead - and for all they knew, it was going to a government that no longer existed. End. ========================================== Ellen Flynn Colony Leader & Rick Armiger Chief Doctor Simmed by: Lieutenant Quen Deena (Ellen Flynn) Medical Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 E239602QD0 & Lieutenant Ben Garcia (Rick Armiger) Second Officer/HCO USS Thor NCC-82607 Author ID number: G239102MR0
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