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SB118 Ops: Quotations of the Week!


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Of course they did. Of course.

Tatash: Why can't you Risians keep your damned clothes -on-? a true question for the ages.

Mad love for Mirra:  

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The momentary peace of simply enjoying the atmosphere was about to be shoved aside and replaced with a near-famous Max-hug as he trundled his way through the crowd, finding that he wa gradually circling Sal and yet never seeming to get any closer to congratulate his commanding offer and friend.

Neither it seemed, was he managing to get close enough to assault one Captain Whittaker with a rapid tacklehug off the port bow.

Instead, he caught sight of another face through the mingling bodies and picked up his pace a little. With a respectful nod and a greeting, he glided around Admiral Hauke before throwing his arms out as he drew close to his target.

Another red-headed Commodore.

 

Maxwell: Incoming! Think fast!

Beware the stealth-hug

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what an incredible yet creepy mental picture of an impending conflict:

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A knot formed in Tatash’s stomach. Those ships were old, it would be like Starfleet digging the old Constitution classes out and strapping some new guns to them before throwing them into the front. Tatash would be more inclined to just call them target practice.

 

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((I just love the interaction and reactions here ❤️))
 

Taybrim: Janul alone is not enough to ensure full attendance.  But… we can force that hand.  ::he paused and offered gravely.:: I am going with him.

 

There was a clatter as a PADD hit the floor, a reaction that was entirely justified as the CO of the station proudly announced they were ready to go careening into the afterlife.

 

DeVeau: I’m sorry...come again? 

 

McLaren: The Commodore will be going with Janul.

 

Tatash couldn’t help but chuckle, it was the sheer insanity of the situation, mixed with somehow the total lack of surprise in the Commodores course of action that was actually quite amusing.

 

Tatash: Classic.

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Borq: The time is irrelevant. A Klingon is never late. Nor are they early. We arrive precisely when we mean to. 

So Klingons are Wizards? 🤔

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Meeks: That is all true, and Ops has been tasked with protecting the Federation’s interests. Our team is one component of this task, and each of you have been shoulder tapped because of your specific skills. Ensign Andrews, you are a skilled and motivated investigator as well as a tactician; Ensign Drevas, you have shown qualities as a Tactical Officer that will be valuable in our mission; and Borq… well… is Borq.

All you need is Borq.  Borq is all you need.

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Borq: Aye, Prepare for the hammer time. 

hammertime.gif

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From the narrative of Ishreth Dal: 

He might have answered back ‘call me Ishreth’ ...

So I find this amusing because we had our voice chat yesterday and I was talking about when I read Moby [...].  For those who don't know, the very first line in the book is "Call me Ishmael.".  So not only was this line used, but the names are very close in spelling. 😄

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From the narrative of Ashley Yael: 
 

He was a psychologist for a reason… typically he used his powers for *good* though.

Let's hope it stays that way!

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Zel bit his bottom lip, trying to not laugh.  Whatever in there was likely deader than dead and probably greasy and putrid.  The biggest danger was the smell.  Unless you licked it.

Don’t lick it.

Zel: Sensors read clear.  There’s nothing alive in there.  Just don’t lick it.

DO NOT LICK IT

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Said in a perfectly dry tone that indicated ‘I need to be a lot more drunk to tell you the tale of where I was that smelled worse than this.’

Aldeberan whiskey would do the trick.  Three would be enough.  Maybe even two.  It used to be five, but as Zel aged he found that drinking gets you killed and stopped drinking unless he felt extremely safe, which was rare.  And then he joined Starfleet and found the incredible pleasures of a decent bed, all the food he could care to eat (fresh eggs!) and tubs of heat far outweighed getting drunk so he drank even less. 

He would be a very cheap date if he ever dated.  Romance gets you killed.

The question is, what does NOT get you killed?  Besides eggs?

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Zel: We can purge, but you have to put up with it for long enough to clear the sensor range of the Lor’Vath.  No need in alerting House Duras that a cloaked warbird launched from a Starfleet Starbase because we farted a bunch of mummified escaped dinner remains into space.

This just about killed me.

 

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From the narrative of Blackwell: 

Don’t Lick It. Wisdom for the Ages from Zel.

So wise.

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Courtesy of Prudence Blackwell... words to live by:

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She paused as the conversation shifted - less poultry, more business.

 

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A brilliant little passage into the IDIC variety of species in the galaxy:

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Qo’noS. Tatash had never visited it before, but the sudden warmth and hint of moisture in the air washed over him like a soothing blanket. Even with the slight hint of rotting meat in the air the whole place felt like home. A little uncomfortable by human standards, but it was to Tatash what Risa was to them. Perfect.

 

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He only hoped they also trusted him.  Because who was Ishreth Dal?  He had been on Ops for seven years now, but most knew him as ‘that guy who almost caused a diplomatic incident when the targ got into the Bajoran Temple reflection pool.’ Or perhaps ‘that guy we leave in command of the station when we go somewhere.’

You know.  That guy.

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Maxwell: Well, I don't ::breath.:: like tae brag, but ::breath.:: I'm kindae a big deal....

Yes, Max.  Yes you are.

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Zel Rohan gave a small nod of assent towards the Caitian.  He was trying not to watch her tail, it was hypnotic and he could not afford to be distracted.  And literally it was her tail, the swishy, swishy appendage, not any euphemism.  Zel hardly thought of anyone romantically.  Maybe he hadn’t met the right person.  Maybe he simply wasn’t a romantic sort, but his brain wasn;t wired to thjink that way.

Still, the way that tail moved was…

Focus, Zel.  Focus.

I think I may have found Zel's weakness.

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