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FltAdml. Wolf

official Arrival at StarBase 118 - introduce your character here!

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The world swam as JC put back another shot. He never set out to find trouble but it always found him and this was the predicament he faced tonight. He ran his hands through his hair appreciating the liquid courage running through his system. Here we go again he thought as a fist darted out and tagged him squarely in the jaw.... and the world dimmed.

Justine Cook woke to a pounding headache, set upon by blinding light and annoyingly loud music. He pounded on the wall that separated his quarters from the room next door. "Turn it down A$$hole" he yelled. The music quieted and he rolled out of his bunk. Covering the distance to the shower and turning on the faucet, "Headphones....is it such a hard concept" The scalding water rushed over his body and he felt instant relief in his muscles. His jaw ached and he really didn't want to look in the mirror. 

"So worth it", he smiled to himself stepped out of the shower and turned to look at the mirror..... and let out an audible sigh. His nose was definitely broken and one eye was swollen and black. Well today should be fun he thought. He pulled his shoulder length black hair into a pony tail and brushed out his beard. His green eyes sparkled with amusement. Still just plain ol' good lookin he thought. He was medium height with a muscular build , the beard and the bright green eyes gave him a youthful twinge. Being slightly older than the other cadets and growing up with 6 siblings of his own, he often took up a guardian role with his peers. That sentiment had led to his current appearance.

The girl had been a young Andorrian cadet and with looks that could kill. She had studied physics with him and it had been easy to approach her at the bar. After a few minutes of chatting and easy flirting, he had asked her to dance and the proceeded as predicted. Drink after drink had followed. All the way till her Boyfriend had shown up. He had exchanged a few rough words with her, and JC had immediately stepped in. Needless to say she didn't appreciate his heroics and BLAME.......

He winced touching his eye. Who knew Andorrian women were so ferocious. Throwing on his uniform and grabbing his PADD, he headed into the hall where he ran into his neighbor Cadet Night.


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Wilhelm makes it to his quarters and immediately sets his bags down beside the bed.

He heads to the mirror, in the washroom to straighten his beard. He scratches at his newly trimmed side burns, and brushes his hand over his very short hair, before running his fingers through his beard of black hair. Not too many humans keep a beard as long as his, but he likes the way it looks.

"Finally made it" he said to himself, knowing his parents would be proud of his accomplishments. He quickly changes into some off duty clothes before heading out the door, hoping to spend some time in Little Risa before going on duty for orientation.

Edited by Wilhelm Bosworth
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::Sasak stepped out of the airlock onto Starbase 118. It had been seven years since he had last been here. While the Vulcan had not visibly aged in that time, much had transpired in his life. He had taken a short-term leave of absence from the fleet to return to Vulcan to marry his betrothed but, instead, in the throes of pon farr, he had rejected T'Kii and declared his desire to mate with a male. Always the asexual Vulcan, he had surprised not only his betrothed and their families but also himself. He had remained on Vulcan after in an attempt to find a suitable mate; however, unable to find a husband, and with his next pon farr less than a year away, Sasak had decided to rejoin Starfleet in an attempt to once again surround himself with like-minded Vulcans and aliens. He had always felt out of place amongst such emotional and illogical beings, but, once returning to Vulcan, he had realized that his time in Starfleet had irreversibly changed him. He was now an outsider in both places, but in Starfleet, surrounded by greater diversity, he hoped that he would feel more at home and have the potential to find a life-long mate, or at least someone to mate with during his pon farr.::

::Always the impeccable minimalist, Sasak was headed to his temporary quarters with his one Starfleet-issue duffel bag slung over his shoulder. As he walked down the corridor, he wondered what had become of many of his commanding officers and colleagues: Captain Riley, Cmdr. Jhen Thelev, Lt. Cmdr. Solok, Lieutenant T'Reshik, and Lt. JG Sakara Virgo.::

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Thayon Jann looked out at the people busily moving about Starbase 118 docking bay. He was finally on his way and so thankful that the shuttle ride was over as it was too small for his tastes.

He sighed and stepped forward towards the dock masters as a young cadet pushed past him. To be honest he really didnt mind that other cadets where in a hurry, he just wanted to get to his bunk and relax for a few hours before everything gets real again with training.

He passed through the check point easily and quickly, he could tell which areas most cadets where bound for. The flyboys where busy bosting about there flight scores, those heading for engineering well, most of them where busy trying to find something to fix. 

Of course Jann noticed all the different species here all gathered together coexisting. You had your Vulcans, all very logical and cold, or at least thats how they came across, the control they have on their emotions meant them having very good mental health so no therpy needed there. The odd Klingon. Trying to figure out what goes on their heads when theyre healthy is hard enough. Humans he liked. He knew what makes them tick. They where pretty much like him, except for the spots. He got used to all the teasing very quickly, his parents moved to earth just after his 5th birthday so hed spent more time on Earth than Trill. 

He stood and took a deep breath. "Thayon Jann. Try not to get yourself in trouble" 


Name: Thayon Jann 

Race: Trill

Appearance: short black hair, blue eyes. Slim built around 5'11-6' in height.

Identifying marks: apart from the Trill spots he has a small scar across his left ear lobe. 


Edited by Thayon Jann
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Good work; welcome aboard!

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The transport ship dropped out of warp, entering the sector of space where Starbase 118 is located. The new cadets on board all move to the ships window to get they're first look of the space station. Excited chatter filled the cabin as the cadets drank in the view of where they would recieve they're first assignments and postings. 
They largest of the groups on the ship all centered around a tall handsome young dark haired man, talking confidently as the group watched and listerned in awe. He boasted about stories of his time at starfleet academy, about how he impressed all of his instructors and how an Admiral was preparing something special for him on his first assignment.
No one was really paying much attention to the one person in the cabin sitting by themselves at the edge on the window, only occasionally looking up from his book to observe the commotion of the group and take in the view of the starbase as the ship entered it's docking pattern. He had kept to himself for most of the trip. Only moving from his seat to take a meal or cup of tea from the replicator. Cadet Derik Mulligan, a 25year old human from Earth of average height and dirty blonde hair. In his youth he moved around Earth with his family, so when he was accepted into starfleet, the change to a life of structure was shock to the system but Derik adapted quickly. Never excelling in classes but also never at the bottom. 
The ship docked and as the people began leaving the ship Derik sat there watching and waiting. In his mind there was no point joining the line to leave the ship, the station wasn't going anywhere so might as well be comfy until the line shrinks, then follow the rest of the cadets out.
As the large group of cadets, began heading off to the closest bar to relax from the trip, Derik decide he wasn't in the mood for making new friends just yet. He had sadly seen the rest of his friends from Star Fleet Academy get posted else where in the quadrant. Never really knowing where his assignments were coming from or what they were for, the best that he could do and always did was adapt. So he ended up here, Starbase 118.  
Derik just began walking with no mission in mind except to get his bearings around the station and stretch his legs after being on the transport for so long. He walking around the habitat, the promonade, the commercial sector, anywhere that he was allowed and had clearance for. He walked until he legs and feet were sore. Until he needed to take a seat on a bench over looking a ship in a drydock.
He sat down and took a shoe off to rub his foot "I might as well go and check in with the Holodeck now  to introduce myself and find out what my assignment actually is" he thought out load as he rubbed his feet. "oh and find where I'm going to sleep for the evening" 
He put his shoe back on and stood up, leaving the view of the ship this time walking with a purpose. 

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((Starbase 118, Commercial Sector)

“Call me Ishmael.”

Cadet Ishmael Aldor enjoyed the thought of introducing himself to the people of Starbase 118 with the opening line of his father’s favorite book. Isaac Aldor, the aging ambassador to Leya-1, loved Moby [...] to the point of naming his only son after its narrator, much to the dismay of his stern, conservative wife. Ishmael himself didn’t mind however, as he was sure he prefered such a historical name to whatever his mother would have picked — probably something like Xe’ra or Haelchuo. He shuddered a bit, but then started reminiscing about the parts of his childhood spent on Leya-1. Oh how he missed the rich food and bold, efficient cities — nothing like the bustling madness of this place...

Ishmael suddenly realized he had been staring blankly into space for the past few minutes and began feeling self-conscious. “Oh gosh I probably look like a complete weirdo”, he mused. “I wonder if anybody thought I was staring at them, especially with these glasses.” He reached for his temple and touched the tinted lenses, which he needed to see clearly in any well lit place; simply put, he had his mother’s eyes.

The cadet smiled, shook his head, and pulled out a small map of the sector. He was headed for the Klingon Qo’noS district to kill the few hours he had before briefing. Following a brisk walk he found himself inside a small antique shop with few windows, and put his glasses in his pocket after folding them neatly. He noticed the elderly, stern-looking shopkeeper glaring at him, but continued to a shelf lined with knives and statuettes. After inspecting a baakonite figurine for a good half-minute, Ishmael turned to the shopkeeper.

“Excu...” He stopped himself, not wanting to insult the Klingon with pleasantries. He cleared his throat and asked, “Can you tell me anything about the history of this figure? When was it forged?”

“If you are here seeking trouble”, the shopkeeper spoke in a low, threatening voice, “it may not end well for you.” He glanced at a bat’leth sword hanging next to him so Ishmael would notice it.

“I am not looking for trouble, I just want something to decorate my quarters” Ishmael said firmly.

“You are Al-Leyan.”

“Only half, and I have no ill will towards you, Klingon.”

The shopkeeper looked unconvinced.

“I was not raised the traditional way on Leya-1, and I recognize some of the positive effects your empire has had. After all, what would the Al-Leyans be without your D-5’s or Birds of Prey?”

The Klingon narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. “Do you even know who it is you are holding?” Ishmael looked down at the figurine. “I can only think of one warrior who would be depicted so ornately, out of the same metal as your bat’leth over there. I’m guessing this must be Kahless the Unforgettable.”

The shopkeeper kept staring at him for a moment, and then spoke, “It was forged two generations ago, I don’t know who by. If you want it, it will be 23 of your Federation credits, or 40 Darseks.”

“Here you go”, and the cadet pulled out the credits and began making his way to the exit.

“You seem fresh, new to this base. Who are you?”

“Call me Ishmael”, he said with a small chuckle, and started walking back to his quarters.

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Rand steps off of the transporter pad and allows his green ocular implants to adjust to the much lower light of a starbase. 

He takes a sniff of the recycled atmospheric mixture of the Starbase. For sure it is not the hot, humid, rancid air of Terok Nor. Of that he is thankful.

He sees the stares of people on the base as he walks by. He is used to that by now. The burn scars, the ocular imlants, his cardassian brow and neck ridges along with his recessed nose ridges make him a unique sight to say the least. 

Before he left the USS New Orleans to come onto the Starbase, he ran into someone he had not seen in 17 years...His twin sister Rand Amara. She is a counsellor on the New Orleans and was pleased to find out her twin had indeed survived. To her shock he was downrght hostile to her. He told her to keep her Bajoran religon and her platitudes about their mother in the Kendra Valley on Bajor to herself. Their mother, Rand Indra, had given Coriolis to a Cardassian work camp when he was five years old. All because his cardassian great grandfather's genes made themselves known in him. From there to Terok Nor where a uridium ore processor exploded, blinding him for 8 years he would work as a blind slave on Terok Nor until Doctor Julian Bashir met the young man and implanted the ocular implants he now uses to see with.

He checks his chronograph on his wrist and he makes his way to one of the meeting rooms. He has an appointment with one of the base's senior officers. He had passed his citizenship test and is being sworn in as a citizen of the Federation. For a homeworld he has chosen Alpha Centauri. He had gone there with a classmate and fell in love with the people, their welcoming ways and their friendly nature. 

After he is sworn in as a citizen he walks to the commercial deck ,so unlike the hub of Deep Space Nine. It is much more brightly lit. He finds a group of Bajorans who give him icy stares. He walks away from them. He will not start a fight with them.

He walks to a stand and orders a black coffee and sits down. He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a book. A drama teacher at the University of California at Berkley gave this book to him. He took literature and drama classes at Berkley as a way to pass spare time and a way to get to know the people of Earth. He came to love the works of the Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen, and the book he has is his favorite play. "An Enemy of the People." He reads the book and just watches people.

His name, Coriolis, means "Son of my Shame" in Bajoran. This makes him very slow to trust and even slower to make friends.

He looks around and thinks "I am in the Federation now, I am home."

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Cadet Kol glanced at the huge artificial dome that stood like a wide opened sky on his head. Kol Rennar had left his shuttle just 20 minutes ago, and now He was curiously walking on a Promenade in the Commercial Sector of the SB118. It was very surprising how the buildings, in their shape, were reflecting the different cultures styles. He have voluntariliy avoided the Ashalla distric. Despite the fact that He was 100% Bajoran, that he grew up in Bajor He felt a not very comfortable feeling reminding his origin. There was something unexplained within him, but consciously expressed by his actions that needed to stay away from anything associated with the concept of Bajoran's bigotry.

He didn't believe in the legendary Prophets, by his pragmatic point of view They were only aliens who live in the timeless folds of a whormhole, and surely They were not gods or idols in the proper religious terms. And all the tradition connected with this kind of faith were a perversion of reason and made him feel uncomfortable. So even the architecture were reflecting this restriced vision of life, bajoran typical approach. He believed in a common life energy field that was radicated in any form of life, someone may call it "God", anyway He saw himself like a spiritual man, but not in the way Bajoran religion pretended him to be!

Kol Rennar was a man of science, ready to find any innovative way to describe the nature with the Language of math, Now He knew that something new was approaching his life. The training program for cadet was waiting for him, and it was an Amazing experience that He didnt' want to lose. Something outsided was waitinf for his contribution to the cause of science and discovery, to reveal the unrevealed and explore the innovative frontier of knowledge. And there was not a Prophet that may support of him, only the hope for a new life, far and away from his bigotry tradition.

Looking around him He saw another cadet, a girl. She was human or anyway appeared such. She was blond haired and she was waking a pair of steps Beyond him along the Promenade of the Ohmallera District. He tried to reach her, but the crowd swallowed her and He lost her track soon. He found alone again, whille the typical betazoid buildings surrounded him. 

A voice from his back took his attemption. "Hey cadet, Are you trying to follow me?". It was the girl's voice. Kol turned and found her just near his back. "Well..not exactly. I was simply trying to find someone to spend this time together", he paused, "my name is Kol, Cadet Kol Rennar, from..". she interrupted him "from Bajor. This one it was not so difficult to identify, even without any psichic capacity. Pleased to meet you, I'm Kalinda."

"From Betazed, I presume?" said Kol referring to the "psichic capacity". She nodded "This place make me feel at home in a certain way, and you? What do you think about Ashalla District?"

"That it remind me my home and I prefer to stay here in your sort of hometown". She glanced at him and they started to walk together.

no more, no less than a new life with probably new friend, He thought while they was talking kindly with Kalinda.




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Ferier looked around.  Despite training to host a symbiont and the prescribed Starfleet academy Ferier felt lost.  Waiting to be a host was nerve-wracking and to temper that and to gain experience Ferier had applied for and succeeded in joining Starfleet   Being an unjoined Trill Ferier had no wisdom and experience from the symbiont to rely on and aid him.  Hos results in Starfleet echoed that not being an outstanding student he nonetheless passed after 4 years of training and was now ready to take another step in a Starfleet career.

Being brought up listening to stories of Jadzia and Ezri Dax had inflamed his senses on both being a host and a Starfleet officer, unlike most Cadets he made his way to quarters rather than a bar, wanting to keep his body and organs at peak performance in case he was called on to be a host  Aged 23 his lack of experience showed him staring with wonder around at the mass of species all under the gentle guiding hand of the Federation.

Taking a sonic shower and then sitting down with a PADD Ferier tried once again to understand the mechanics of warp drive something most cadets acheived with ease it still confounded him.  Sighing he put down the PADD and massaged his temple making his Trill markings around his temple seem to undulate.  The quarters were stark more like a holding ground than somewhere to rest.  Ferier laid on the bed ready for the call to duty that he knew would come.


Name Ferier Lanta

Age 23

Race Trill, unjoined

Height 5 foot 10

Appearance messy brown hair, brown Trill markings that extend from forehead down to feet, no scars or other markings

Ferier trill.jpg

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Wrader ducked out from the lift quickly, grey eyes darting. He gripped the strap of his shoulder bag tightly in an olive-toned hand while he used the other to scout out a path through the crush of bodies moving out into the main thoroughfare of the station. When it finally thinned out enough for him to extricate himself, he pulled off to one of the outwardly sloping walls that opened up into the broad, circular shape of the main promenade.

So... He thought to himself, This is 118. He looked at the bustling crowd and the shops with practiced indifference on his squarish face. Subconsciously, he tugged on his misshapen left ear and then traced a white scar from the bottom of his ear to where it tapered off between his nose and top lip. His eyes roved over the placards and signs as his mind roved over the possibilities for those few hours he had to spare before this cadet cruise began.

I suppose it would be frowned upon if I were to go to the Qo'noS sector and find a decent brawl, he mused. I doubt I have the time, in any case. With a mildly discontented sigh, he squared his shoulders and wandered down the promenade in search of diversion.

For a moment, he paused outside the Night Garden, just to sample the smells. As he was about to move along, a demure voice from behind interrupted him.

"I don't think any of those flowers work with your hair," a woman with flowing red locks of her own said. Wrader, almost unconsciously, ran a hand through his martially-styled black hair.

"None of them?" he asked the woman, matching her tone with feigned seriousness in his own. She shook her head. "And I thought black went with everything."

"Yes, but yours just has something wrong about it," she answered. "And you'd look something silly if you combined flowers with that uniform of yours. Brand new, here for your cadet cruise?"

"Indeed...What do you mean by wrong?" She shrugged.

"That's for you to figure out," she said in a matter-of-fact tone that struck Wrader as very much at odds with the cryptic nonsense she was spouting. He didn't quite know how to respond to that and the pause after her words lengthened with increasing awkwardness.

"I've a few hours left before my cruise," Wrader finally said, mostly because he couldn't think of anything else to say. "Is there anything you recommend to pass the time?"

"I would go and stare at the clouds in the main dome," the woman replied. "Sometimes they are quite... Interesting." With that, she turned around and swiftly disappeared into the crowd.

The hell....? Wrader stared at the spot at which she had merged into the mess of people wordlessly for several moments. Then, somewhat perturbed by his own actions, he decided he would go and stare at the clouds.

Several hours later, he stood up from the bench he had sat at and wondered just why he had listened to that strange woman. Unable to find an answer, he headed off for his cruise.


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The elevator doors slid open and Kaine was happy to be out of the claustrophobic space that it seemed he'd been a prisoner of for hours as opposed to the few minutes it took to get from the docking bay to the commercial sector.

Kaine stepped from the elevator and was struck by a wall of light and sound that he'd not expected. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to all the bright signs advertising everything from Klingon Raktajino to power cells. As his eyes became accustomed he could see the commercial centre rising high on either side with different countless levels crammed full of people bustling about their daily business or haggling at any one of a dozen bazars for the best deal.

Kaine was also struck by the sheer diversity of the people he saw. Back on Earth he'd never seen more than a vulcan, and they didn' look all that diferent from himself. But already in the space of a few minutes he'd seen over a dozen romulons and Andorians pass him by.

Kaine had never been one for crowds and he was starting to feel more than a little anxious stood in the midst of the crowd’s swirling around him, so decided it was time to find somewhere a little quieter.

He began walking, moving to where he could see the crowds thinning out, leaving the clamorous commercial sector and its bright lights behind him.

As he walked he thought back to Earth. Back to London where he'd spent so many years, and learnt his trade. And he thought of Maria. The woman who he had cared so much for, who he'd of done anything. The woman who had made him strive to be something more and learn his trade. But she wasn't in London anymore, nothing was in London now for Kaine.

He found himself falling into a melancholy and quickly admonished himself for the self-pity he was feeling. After what he did there was no way to return to London so why waste time dwelling on it.

As he walked he found himself in an area no so well-lit or maintained, and the people here had hostile looks and darting eyes.

Up ahead he could see a dim light above a door "the rowdy romulan" Perfect he thought.

As Kaine stepped into the bar more than a few faces turned to face him. He was tall for a human, standing at 6 foot 4' with broad shoulders and a barrel chest. His arms were also large and looked strong, however there was some obvious additional soft tissue around his waist.

He approached the bar and grunted. "Romulan ale"

The bar tender, a dour looking Klingon looked him up and down, resting his eyes for an extended time on the Starfleet Cadet insignia on his uniform.

"This place isn’t for you human, I suggest you wander back up to the commercial district before you find yourself in trouble" the bartender growled.

"No trouble needed, all I want is a Drink"

before the bartender could reply Kaine was grabbed by his shirt and twirled around, coming face to face with a scowling romulan.

"Listen you shaved ape! You’re not welcome here so get out!"

Barked the Romulan.                                                                                                                           

"Well that's not very friendly now is it? Is that how you treat all customers who come here? No wonder the place is looking a little run down"

replied Kaine, keeping his voice even.

"You need to buy something to be a customer!"

Yelled the barman from behind Kaine.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

"Well I haven’t had a chan..."

Started Kaine, when the Romulan shoved him and said,

"Listen closely! Humans aren’t welcome here! And especially starfleet human scum!"

With that the romulan reached out and tore the starfleet insignia from Kaine’s uniform resulting in a large tear.


"Oh you shouldn't have done that"

said Kaine, his face turning darker.


The romulan began to speak again but before he had a chance Kaine thrust his head forward making contact with the bridge of the romulans nose resulting in a gush of green blood. Then before he could recover Kaine delivered a left cross and a right uppercut before grabbing him by his clothes and throwing him over the bar.

As the romulan flew over the bar the barman ducked down and then reappeared holding a phaser in his hand.

It was about this time that Kaine decided it was best to get out of there. He turned and darted for the door as a phaser beam shot past his head. Once outside he didn’t waste any time and began to run as fast as his large frame would allow.

Brilliant, he'd been on the station less than a few hours and had managed to get in a brawl and what’s worse he'd now have to show up to his "cruise" in a torn uniform.

Edited by Kaine
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The time is 0630" the computer chirp with a monotonous voice, groaning the young cadet shifted uncomfortably in his bed before assuming a new position. "The time is 0630 and 5 seconds" the computer said this continued for several more times before he gave up.

"Alright alright I'm up." the cadet said as he got up and attempted to straighten his misshapen hair which in its natural state, refused his sense of order and went back to it's puffy state. 

After his daily morning routine, the boy dragged his feet along to the classroom. 'Just one more day, one more day of this and I'll never have to sit through another one of professor Vassbinder's famous lectures again,' he thought 'tomorrow is the day I get a posting to one of those top of the line starships. I'll be free to explore the universe!' The moments of joy were short lived however when his mind started contradicting it's previous happy thoughts. "Mr Ronsten!" Superintendent Vykriss said with patience straining in his cold Vulcan voice, breaking the cadets daydreamy thoughts. 

"Yes sir!" Ronsten called out as he snapped to attention.

"Pay attention will You?" The Vulcan said 

"Sorry sir" Ronsten said as his classmates snicker at his expense.

"As I said, you are assigned to a tactical position on the U.S.S Avalon, Under captain Augustus Brave. There's a shuttle leaving for starbase 118 where the ship is dock at 1245 hours tomorrow is that understood?" 

"Tactical?" Ronsten asked in confusion "But I major in theoretical astrophysics, and temporal mechanics. Besides, I'm terrible with a gun." 

"I'm sorry cadet but that's the posting you were given," the superintendent said calmly "now please sit down, you're making a scene."

As Vykriss continued to list down the names of other cadets and their posting, Ronsten say down with his hands in his head. 'Only with my kind of luck I would get a position where my capabilities are useless and where I'm literally useless.'

With the ring of the bell Ronsten bounded out of his seat and stopped Vykriss at the door. "Look sir, please check again, I'm sure that there must be some sort of mistake, I mean I'm more suited to bring in a science lab then shoving a torpedo into a launch tube, I mean come on, there are still people who's trying to figure out how did a real explosion end up in the holodeck when I dropped that simulation of a torpedo!" 

"Cadet Ronsten, there is no mistake in your posting," Vykriss assures "I have been teaching in this academy before you were born and we have never made a mistake."

"But it's not possible!" Ronsten cries "how did I get a position of Tactical? I was terrible, even admiral Tuvok said I wasn't suited to be in it!"

"I believe that particular question can be answered by captain Brave, after all he made the request for you."


Edited by Theodore Eliase Ronsten
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Guest dwalterubc

Just like old times...

Aera Darrhi casually leaned against a bulkhead in a manner that would have made her academy drill instructor, Petty Officer Ries, furious beyond words. But the Trill cadet was off duty right now, and she had a myriad of memories of going through this ritual before. Her symbiont, Darrhi, had lived through the lives of over a dozen hosts. Aera tried not to make too much of it. She wasn’t the kind of Trill who blurted out some relevant past experience as if it made her better than anyone else. The academy had been plenty challenging in its own right even though she essentially carried the collective experiences of a hospital in her abdomen. 

Darrhi had always been a doctor or scientist. Whether it was working as an aid worker, or trying to solve a genetic disorder plaguing a whole species it’s experiences were filled with compassion and healing. Oh, and an insatiable curiosity for the unknown. That last part was getting Aera into all kinds of trouble; and also what helped her push through her Starfleet entrance exams. 

Well, she’d made it through the exams. And the academy it’s self; even finding herself enjoying morning colours with Petty Officer Ries by the end (Starfleet had a fascinating connection with Earth’s military forces that she was still trying to understand fully). As a medical graduate, she’d spent a lot of time in labs or in the clinic while some of her peers got to go up into space in runabouts for flight, navigation, and practical engineering training. She’d been jealous at the time, but now that she’d finished and taken her oath, Aera felt like all was as it was meant to be. 

She stopped leaning and walked over to a small café situated around the promenade. She’d heard the proprietor had a secret recipe for a cappuccino-type beverage so good that admirals would purposefully divert to Starbase 118 to grab one before carrying on with their busy lives. 

As she sat down at a small round table and watched a heated argument, or friendly debate (always hard to tell) between two Tellerites walking by, her mind drifted home to Trill where her young brother would probably be giving her parents the runaround as usual. They had been so proud of her when she completed her host training, and overjoyed when she was selected to receive Darrhi. Her brother had started treating her like she walked on water. Her family completely understood her decision to join Starfleet. None of them had served directly, but her mother had served as a civilian medical volunteer aboard a Federation starbase during the Dominion War, and her father had lent his engineering expertise to help colonies recover their hydro and power systems after the war had taken its toll. Aera just hoped the Federation was done with major conflict now. She’d joined to help save lives, and to meet amazing new people who believed in the noble goal of exploration as a means to better ones self, and everyone in the Federation. Idealism. That was a trait that was all Aera. 

Cadet Aera Darrhi, MD

Starfleet Medical Graduate

Player: Derek W


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Sotak took her bag containing her few belongings as the voice from the shuttle's speakers spoke in Federation Standard to warn all passengers that they had reached their destination - Starbase 118. Just a few days ago she had graduated from the Academy and was sent to this starbase before actually getting an assignment to a star ship, as was every cadet's wish. Sotak had parted ways with the few beings with whom she had managed to create an interesting relationship. She did not regret this - change was necessary for every being in the universe, and she was not the exception. 

She went to register with the administration so that she would have her quarters assigned, which she would share with another cadet for the time they stayed at the Starbase. Once she was given directions, she gave a slight nod to the man behind the desk in form of gratitude, and left toward her new room. 

Sotak didn't have much to do once she arrived, as she hadn't brought many things with her to unpack, so she decided to take out the one book she had bought before coming to Starbase 118 and continued her reading sitting on the bed she had chosen.

Submerged in her reading, Sotak did not notice a human female entering the room. Apparently, neither did the other being, as she simply left her bags on the floor near the entrance to their quarters and proceeded to sit beside them on the floor as she set her head in her hands and began to sob.

Sotak was now not so unfamiliar to the way humans expressed their emotions; she had spent four years at the Academy in Terra and had learned quite a bit about human behaviour. However, whenever she had seen this specific display of emotion, she had to suppress the slight panic that rose from her side. She decided she could only ignore the girl for so long, and doing nothing would be seen as rude or as an act of intruding in the human's privacy. 

She closed her book and set it beside her. She did not know the proper way to approach this, so she asked what she thought was best to make the girl open up about the problem and try to deal with it logically instead of submerging in her own despair.

"Why do you cry?"

The girl jumped notoriously and raised her head to meet Sotak's eyes. She seemed surprised but not offended. She tried a small smile and replied:

"It's nothing. Sorry to disturb you, I... I-I know I..."

Sotak waited for her to finish the sentence, but when she never did, she continued to push her.

"It's clearly not 'nothing', or the symptoms you are displaying would not be present."

The girl met her eyes again. "What are you, a doctor?"

"That is not my area of expertise, no. However, I do believe your current state could be fixed by talking about what is troubling you. If you wish to discuss it with someone, I am currently unoccupied and willing to listen, and therefore the most logical choice for you."

The girl's smile disappeared when she finally said, "My mum called me as we left the shuttle. She was never very happy with my decision to join Starfleet because she feared something awful would happen to me in space, as stupid as that sounds coming from someone living in this century. So when I graduated and came here, with my first assignment coming nearer, she completely lost it. She... you know what? It doesn't matter. I... I'd rather have it this way. At least she will no longer yell at me whenever I talk to her."

Sotak instantly assumed what had happened even if the girl was unwilling to share the full details.

"I'm sorry."

The other girl wiped her nose and let a laugh loose. "I didn't realise Vulcans could feel grief or regret."

Slightly smiling (in a way that was imperceptible to most beings), Sotak replied with, "Just because we don't let those emotions cloud our judgement it doesn't mean we are heartless. Humans simply like to pretend that we are because it is part of an easier view of reality."

"Maybe." The girl sat in her spot for a few more seconds staring at the opposite wall of the room until she suddenly turned to Sotak, who had in turn been staring at the other female in a curious manner as she studied her reactions. "Anyway, we didn't really get a formal introduction, did we? My name is Praria." She looked expectantly at Sotak for a long time, until she realised the implied meaning of her words had not reached the Vulcan. "And... yours is...?"

"Sotak," the Vulcan said shortly.

"That's a... nice name."

"It serves its purpose, if that's what you mean."

Praria looked uncertain of how to continue for a while, but suddenly she stood from the floor and jumped to Sotak's side on the bed. "I'm sorry, but I haven't met many Vulcans before. Klingons? Sure, they're good company. Tellarites? Nice. But the few Vulcans I've met all have the same haircut and I was wondering why that is," she finished in a fast manner with a timid smile.

Sotak resisted the urge of imitating the human expression of the eye-roll. She was not annoyed particularly, but a Vulcan's hair had been a famous topic of discussion in the Academy as well, and the human obsession with this certain fashion was beyond her.

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