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FltAdml. Wolf

official "Arrival at StarBase 118" (Introduce your character here!)

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The Starbase seemed sparse. Not many officers about and certainly not many civilians. That said, word had it there was an incident that was being handled. Valoru had heard about this on the news channels and put it on the back burner of his mind while he finished his studies at the academy. But now, being at Starbase 118 brought those news clippings to the forefront - perhaps things were really going down.

Or perhaps it was the fact that it was 0400 hours and most alpha and beta shifters were deep in sleep.

The Andorian walked the main promenade and nodded to a few folks and saluted to a few officers - he was in fact in his cadet uniform still. He was noticeably fit and would normally be wearing a grey cloak to conceal his true nature, while not on duty. His body (hands and feet) being a lethal weapon, he tried to make it less obvious. But he was fit and strong and walked with purpose everywhere he went.

His purpose this morning was a coffee. He had always enjoyed the intricacies of Human espresso, among other similar beverages from other species. There was a cafe open and he went in and ordered a double shot, sipping casually as he eyed passers-by. From inside the small portico of the bar, he could avoid senior officer protocol and still catch all he needed to - the mannerisms of the woman who obviously had some nerve-racking issue going on; the darting eyes of the security officer on duty; the laughter of a couple children and the not-so-thrilled reaction of their parents at this wee hour. It was all soaked in by the astute Andorian. Valoru would remember them if he needed to, although most of what was going on could be discarded from his memory banks.

Except that good cup of caffeine - that one was committed to memory.

"Welcome aboard, cadet," came the voice of the barista.

Valoru turned and bowed his head in thanks, remaining silent as was his nature, and headed out to find his quarters for the cruise.

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Guest Neil

Name: Cadet Hanako "Hani" Kimura

Location: FInal Approach, Starbase 118.

Hani slumbered, resting back in the supportive safety webbing as the shuttle banked and turned awaiting the signal for the final approach to Starbase 118, her ultimate destination. She could nearly feel the tension of the other prospective cadets aboard, no doubt a chaotic mixture of apprehension and excitement following the long journey.

Strangely Hani felt laid back and, to be honest, somewhat bored of the whole trip as she thought of herself as an experienced space-goer and had earnt her ‘space legs’ at an early age. Leaning back in the shuttle’s padded chair she let her thoughts drift…

Her sofu, her grandfather, crouched over the shodou (OOC: Traditional Japanese calligraphy) long handled brush in hand as he looked down at the smooth sheet of bleached rice paper. The old man hummed an ancient tune as he rested, sitting back while the paper was still untouched by the ink-heavy tip of the brush.

“Why don’t you write?” Hani had finally asked, letting out a deep breath as she’d stayed silent watching her grandfather for a long couple of minutes at least.

“It is not a simple matter of deciding what form to write upon the page” her grandfather had muttered, not looking at Hani. “It is a sense of waiting to see what already lies on the page… perhaps patiently waiting to be revealed by the brush”

The twelve year old Hani had shrugged, not understanding the old man’s words…

“Beginning final approach” the pilot’s voice came over the Shuttle’s communications system bringing Hani back to the present. She wondered what would be revealed at the Academy and what she would learn. Perhaps finally understanding her grandfather’s explanations significance …

OOC: Good to be aboard. Neil

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"I need a drink. White Russian, if you don't mind." The woman addressed the bartender

"Sure thing, Ma'am." The bartender replied and started working on her drink

The dark haired cadet sat by the bar, fingers drumming as she waited for her drink. Blue eyes trailed along the various corners of the vicinity with a vacant and passive expression--clearly uninterested with her surroundings. Or at least that's what she wants people to believe. Truthfully speaking, Langley Vargas was having the jitters at the moment and it was painfully obvious as to why with her attire being a dead give away. After four years at the Academy comes the hands on. Of course she would be nervous, she doesn't want to mess up since she has that mentality that once she mess something up, she would do it again and it would take a lot of pep talks, self-realizations and epiphanies to pull her through those kinds of funks.

The drink arrives and immediately, Langley downs it. Most people would avoid the idea of drinking before getting all 'handsy' with their work place but Langley thinks others wise. Well, it has been tested and proven that she can still be a functional member of society even after three bottles of whiskey, so what is one glass of liquor to her?

There was a person who occupied a seat beside her, some guy in his late forties. Langley didn't care, it wasn't her business. But then he pried on her personal space and slurred words at her that she could only just manage to understand.

"Hey 'umpkin, ain't cha lil' bit too youn' to be in un'form?" he slurred at her. Adolescent is what people describe her as in terms of appearance, much worst when she was a mere baby first year cadet in the Academy--calling her a teenager when she's actually older--and it's all because she's El-Aurian and their aging is vastly different from most of those species who have a rather short lifespan. She's learned to lived with it most of her life rather than be annoyed by it. Most people would have moved over to another seat just to" avoid interaction with drunken men but then again, since when was Langley 'most people'? Instead, the dark haired woman cadet just snorted.

"Please, I'm probably older than you." she said asking the barista a glass for her and the drunk beside her. She took another sip when their drinks arrived.

"This some good st'ff. All me than's, love." The man beside her said, taking a gulp. "If ya dun mind me askin', what you take in the 'Fleet 'Cad'my?"

"I'm in science mostly, but I minored in helm-nav just for the fun of it."

"Thas'--tha's an actually pretty un-une-unusual comb'nation if ya ask me."

"Well, I didn't actually ask you, did I?" There was a buzzing from within Langley's pocket. She pulled out her pocket-sized PADD and sighed.

"Well, as much as I enjoyed our little chit-chat, duty calls." And with that, she paid for the drinks she ordered and was about to navigate her way out of the bar when the drunkards hand stopped her.

"Can I get a name at leas'?" he asked. And the El-Aurian cadet just give him a playful smile.

"Langley Vargas. If you stick to calling me Lee, I might consider buying you a round of drinks if ever I bump into you again." And with that, the young cadet left for the holodecks.

Ah, time to face the music.

Edited by Langley Vargas
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(( The Dungeon, Starbase 118))

:: Doven had been through months of gruel and grime in order to get to this point. The point of commissioned no return. His fellows from Marine training laughed at him when he made the decision to go from grunt to glamour, but he somehow found himself not caring that much. At least while he was drinking his Romulan ale. He sat in one of the corner tables in a little whole in the wall bar located in the Starbase's Dungeon, a place that seemed to be a concentrated realm of eccentrics and locals. A place where people could just be, themselves, or at least their suppressed selves that are usually hidden away. He sipped slowly, thinking of all that he had accomplished in just two years. Here was this farm boy, born and raised to heard cattle and Ma'rhan's around the farm, to sell them in order to keep his home; he would now be spending his days in space, the polar opposite of home. But nonetheless, he hoped to find a home out here as well.

:: Marine training was harder than he expected, but then again, he didn't really have much to go on. The constant PT, the yelling and screaming of CO's. It broke him in. Made him focus. Made him, more aware of things around him. The weapons training by far was the most intense thing he'd ever done. But one thing was for sure, he could break down, reassemble, and waste a clip from any Mark III product out there, in short order too. He thought that was going to be the end of his training, till he was approached about intelligence. Apparently throughout his training, his marks had earned him the attention of some of the brightest minds to cultivate the vast web of what is now Starfleet Intelligence, and they wanted to give him a shot. He relished the opportunity; in a haste to satisfy this newfound hunger for adventure and non-farm activity. It would be a crapps shoot though as to where he would be stationed, and what he would be doing. The camaraderie from Boot seemed to push him more towards leading guys out into the thick of it in a combat zone, but then again, the cool calm aspect of intel gathering seemed just as appealing. For now, he sat quietly, waiting and drinking... ::

Overhead: All Cadets bound for Cruise 131, please report to Dock 2...

:: He let out a short sigh, finished his mug, and set it on the counter... He put the knife back in is boot, the one he'd been carving his name into the table with. He left his mark on the Starbase, and subconsciously hoped his legacy would turn out to be more than a few crude words carved into a Dungeon table. His life was starting... Right this second. ::

------

Cadet Doven Childyrn

Intel/Marine Hopeful

Unassigned

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The shuttle door hissed open, quickly followed by the gasps and trepidations of the disembarking cadets as they stepped on the final leg of their journey to become starfleet officers. Among them stood Koval Hirano.


At 6 feet 2, the blue eyed half klingon stood a head over most other cadets, he walked towards the promenade with a decided step. A smile crept up on Koval's face once he reached the Kronos neighborhood. Letting his ears guide him, he followed the sound of ringing metal to the smithy his mother had told him about. Banging his fist on the counter to draw the attention of the old klingon smith, Koval had to contain his enthusiasm as he locked eyes with the old klingon.


"vutmeH SoH 'etlh?" asked Koval as he handed the smith a padd. The old klingon looked over the padd and nodded. Koval waited as the smith brought the bill and the cadet happily placed his thumbprint. "It will be ready in two weeks." said the old smith, Koval thanked him and left the smithy quite happy with himself. Father will have a new katana for his collection, thought Koval.


Looking over the chronometer, he realised he still had time to grab something to eat. He walked out of the Kronos district, he was half klingon but he never had developed the palate to tolerate klingon food.

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Guest john a worene

I took a few steps away from the shuttle with its cramped spaces and the eyes of the passengers that would look away when I noticed them.

I can only believe they were admiring my male parts. Maybe I should have worn a loin cloth under my skirt. But it is too late to try to protect their bruised egos now.

The slight breeze felt good on my black summer fur, moving it slightly; so it sort of tickled. The smell of cherry blossoms was in the air. It was a wonderful smell.

It reminded me of home and the blooms in he’jhgt reserve when I hunted Porava as often as possible.

The baggage was set in the recovery area and I went to claim mine.

I would soon have to put on that uncomfortable Starfleet uniform and attend my first briefing for the Academy.

The baggage manager smiled as he called my name “john a worene”

I stepped to him and with my teeth clenched. “That would be me sur.”

He nodded, “I suppose you’ll need the uniform but I could take the rest to the Academy if you would like.”

“I like that, sur.”

“You’ll excuse me but I just have to ask how you settled on the name john.” He sort of smiled before he continued. “I mean we were all told to expect a Worene, but john?”

Teeth clenched “A compromise sur, given name not pronounceable in earth talk, da say I need two names and mid letter.”

“Is da, uh, is there something wrong with your jaw. There is a medic just over there.”

I let him see my teeth, the teeth of a predator, a killer and hissed as I spoke. “t’is esssier sspeak teeth clenched.”

He took a step back “and much less frightening for the listener. I’ll get these bags to the Academy.”

I nodded at him and he moved quickly away with the bags he had collected. I looked around and wondered where I could explore for the next three hours before I had to put on my uniform and report.

I wasn’t sure I believed the smell when I got the first whiff of it, so I took a deeper breath. I knew this smell, the smell of a willing female.

She smiled and I watched her nostrils flare. Her teeth sparkled in the sun as she spoke “Meow, I guessss you’re interessssted.”

She and I were much more alike that the humans from her pointed ears to her light brown fur. But she was not of my race, she had a golden mane and a line of long hair that ran down her belly.

I felt no need to keep my teeth clenched. “You be a fine looking creature, how are you call?”

“Kitty, Kitty, Kitty.” She responded obviously sorry after she did.

I didn’t understand and she explained.

“It’sss a cruel joke you will hear often here. But I am called Paradissse, in this place.”

The smell of her became stronger and I knew where I would spend the next few hours.

“I call myssself john in this place. I am from Fesssccon, in the Ofin Hodiesss SSSector.”

“It’sss good to meet you john; I’m from Nimbusss III. My you are tall and have a very long tail.”

“I be taller that most of my people.” I moved my tail along her back and placed it over her shoulder and pulled her closer. She allowed the move and responded in kind.

She touched the end of my tail with her hairy paw, “Oh your tail isss damaged.”

I laughed too loud and some of the passers-by turned our way.

“It a transsssporter accident. I tell you da ssstory dis afternoon.”

As we walked we talked and she told me that “Sooner or later you will be offered a saucer of milk most likely by a Klingon.”

“And I will offer one in return.”

She laughed and I asked “Isss sssomething wrong.”

“It’sss ment as an insssult.”

“ssso I should fight with him. Are they worth fighting?”

Her laughter is very nice. “When they are not drunk.”

She licked the fur behind my ear as I checked my uniform to make sure it was correct. “You will come back.”

“Oh, yessss every cchance I get. But now I have to get to the Academy.”

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:: The Klingon/Human hybrid was sitting in his seat with a PADD in his hand. His posture was seemingly perfect as he sat with his back straight and his chest out. Dressed in a security gold cadet uniform he looked like a statue with an emotionaless face. A Human male approached him as he sat quietly.::

Human male: Hello, cadet???? :: He had an inquisitive look upon his face:/

Drax: :: He looked up with an intimidating look:: DRAX!It's Drax.

Human male: ::He managed to mumble out a sentence:: We .... We have ...... arrived at ..... Starbase 118, sir.

:: Drax nodded and diverted his attention elsewhere as if the Human male didn't exist. As the Human male walked away Drax stood up. The Klingon/Human hybrid stood 6'4 with a solid heavier set frame. He has a barrel chest that makes him seem even more intimidating than he already is. The PADD in his hand was more than half covered with his bigger than average hand size. He stepped in to the aisle and made his way to the transport ship exit. The other occupants were doing the same. With Drax being taller than all most all the occupants he could clearly see the exit, and the starbase corridor.

He stepped off the ship and into the busy corridor full of activity. There were multiple species moving about their business. Some were Starfleet affiliated and others were just civilians. Drax looked down at the PADD in his right hand and noticed he was early for his final cadet cruise. Having a few hours to kill he decided to make his way to the commercial sector in Starbase 118.::

-more to come had to call it a night.

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“Personal Log, Stardate...oh hell, forget it,” a sultry, yet cheerful voice muttered from a dark corner of the shuttle, “This is my third log in the same day. It’s ridiculous!” Sera Kell thumped her small head on the bulkhead she was leaning against with a sigh. “Anyone who listens to this log is going to think ‘how the heck did this whackadoo get into starfleet in the first place?’” The Trill laughed wryly to herself and ruffled her bobbed, mousy brown hair with a strong, slender hand.

“I am approaching StarBase 118, and for the first time since my bonding, I have a case of the butterflies.” Her green eyes glanced around at the fairly empty cabin and she crossed her long, shapely legs. She had studied for two decades to get to this point in her life - first on Trill, where she had undergone the rigorous training required for Trill bonding, and then at the Academy, where her mind was put to the test in the fields of Xeno-Archaeology and Linguistics. “Finally, after all this time, I am beginning the next chapter in my life - as a Starfleet officer.”

However much she hated to admit it, Kell was nervous. While Starfleet Academy had been challenging, Being out on her first formal assignment was trippy. She hoped that now people would treat her as an equal, not someone to be intimidated by, or to expect pure excellence from. Model Minority Pressure was very much a problem at the Academy. Species such as Trill, Vulcan and Aaamazzarite were seen as ‘above par’ academically, and were expected to perform at a consistently higher level than that of other, ‘normal’ species. Sera managed to meet her instructors’ steep expectations, but her relationships with her classmates had suffered. Sera had learned quickly that in order to avoid bullying, tutoring (aka: doing their homework for them) was the easiest way out of a confrontation with people like James Polaris or Shushni Kurka. She shivered at the memory of the Human/Hekaran duo that had plagued her endlessly the first year of her Academy training.

Aisha Karli Had been the one saving grace at the Academy. A seemingly blind woman, the Doosodarian had yanked Sera from the vicious bullying cycle she found herself in. The two women had become fast friends, and were inseparable until Karli’s graduation last year. They still met over the comm when they could for tea and to trade poetry.

The Shuttle docking with the spaceport jerked Ensign Kell from her reverie. She closed down her log, smoothed her immaculate uniform with one hand, picked up her suitcase and prepared to step out into the world of StarBase 118. Kiki, her tan and white Denobulan Ferret, skittered up her back and curled around her neck chittering nervously as they exited the spaceport.

It was so colorful! Species from every quadrant of the Federation were mulling about through the corridors, tending to their daily lives. Sera’s eyes grew wide as she took in everything - the colorful tapestries in the Bajoran novelty shop, the lively Dabo girls in their vibrant dresses and raucous laughter, the varying clusters of blinking lights on signs and notice boards flashing the latest sales and hottest deals. In one corner of a shop, a commercial for ‘Fruity Oaty Bars’ whined it’s catchy tune. Two Ferengi children dashed past the Trill, bumping her suitcase and causing her to spin wildly in place. She laughed, and it’s sound rang out and blended with the great symphony of a busy station - this place was perfect.

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Malcolm Flanigan stepped off the transport and looked around him at the goings on of the starbase. Shaking his head in amazement that he had finally made it here after what seemed like years of trying. He was 6ft4 with a slender build, dark hair and brown eyes with glasses. He was a researcher here to do exactly that, research.

Moving away from the transport he started walking to no where in particular, just wanting to take as much of it in before his training started. He was a bookish kind of person so looking for a library or something like that would be high on his agenda.

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::Being more of a sit back, listen to the talk and watch the motions of humanoids play out, the new Cadet slowly walks over to a corner of the room and takes a seat with his back to the wall. Pulling out a photo of an unnamed loved one, he mutters something under his breath with a stern look on his face as if he has something to prove::

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For the Transporter Chief, today was a typical Monday morning in the office. Running one of the personnal transporters on Starbase 118, he had been at work for the last three hours, transporting people to and from various destinations on SB118. From people beaming over who had been to one of the several thousands of weekend parties all over Starbase 118, and were now nursing one hell of a hangover, to regular workers using the transporters to quickly head for their work stations, the day was going to be very interesting.

During times when there wasn’t anything to do, Mr. Runyon would polish the metal transporter control panel, sweep out the corners of the transporter room, and if he had time, he’d make sure one of the florists from the Promenade would bring a small bouquet of flowers all grown in Starbase 118’s massive horticultural gardens. Believing that a bit of civility, and getting away from sterile world of Starfleet, and Starbase 118, people that usually beamed to his transporter room were happy to see something growing instead of the regulation plastic flowers, and plants that seemed to be what they were, artificial objects.

As he cleaned he heard the slight hum coming from the Transporter pads, and rushing to the control panel, he watched as the lights began to get brighter, and in the middle of the lights he could see the shape of something that was now beaming over. Suddenly reading the object in the transporter beam was human or alien, he adjusted the controls, and within a few seconds the object that had been inside the beam of lights solidified into the shape of an older woman. Wearing black pants, boots, a low cut black cotton blouse, he was mesmerized by the woman standing on the transporter pads.

Suddenly the woman got out, and as she stepped out of the transporter chamber he didn’t realize how tall she was. The woman who he suspected was around in her middle 40’s, climbed out of the chamber, now standing on the floor, the statuesque’s woman who now stood at around 6-2”, and weighed around 230 lbs, walked up to him and said in a soft, but intimidating tone of voice asked “Where may I find Mundok’s bar?” Seeing her strangly feminine face that had a slight male look to it, and staring at her large breasts, all he said that if she took the turbolifts, they would take her to where she wanted to go. Saying thank you, the woman easily picked up her small metal suitcase, and walked out of the transporter room, and into the heavy flow of pedestrian traffic.

Everywhere she went, people tend to stare, and say something, but she wasn’t worried about what a few hundred humans said, especially since she was a Elasian Transgendered woman, whose father was Elasian, and her mother was of Filipino heritage. But it was her beauty that seemed to captivate everyone. Her deep brown eyes, dark upswept eyebrows, her brown skin that seemed to look like caramel, and high cheekbones, and the typical Filipino nose all of these made her somewhat of a beauty. But now with the amount of people now beginning to grow in size in the vast promenade, she took four turbolifts, and now in the lower level of the Dungeon, she found what she was looking for, “Mundok’s” bar, a seedy bar that had seen better times. This place is a very dark hang out. It is not up on the promenade, but down in the bowels of Starbase 118 that everyone calls the "Dungeon," specifically on Deck 1068.

With thousands of people from all over the quadrant, many wanted a place that was out of the sight of most regular people, and would cater to people who wanted to be left alone. With the best liquor from over the quadrant, and enough credits, a person drown his or her sorrows without being bothered. If there were fights, many of them were covered up, and the disposal units were sometimes clogged up with a body. But for the most part, the bar was quiet, and as far as T’Mir was concerned this was one place she wanted to go to.

For T’Mir walking in the bar was something, with only 20 patrons, the long bar was empty, with some of the people in one of the booths either drinking or sleeping off a hangover. When she walked in, people looked at her, like she was fresh meat, but with a quick stare, and a hand that went to a handle of a knife in her belt, the people just looked away. Finding a lonely table in the bar, she sat down and ordered a large stein of beer. And just watched everyone inside Mundok’s. Soon her beer came, and now drinking heartily, as she began to relax, a big heavy set male came in the bar, and ordered a large beer. Seeing that he seemed to be a regular, she went back to what she was doing, and soon as she sat there, the man came over, and now standing over her table he said, “How about letting me sit down next to you”. Smiling and saying “No thank you, I rather drink alone”.

Not taking no for an answer, he asked her three more times, and it was the same answer. Now sensing that there was a change to the man, T’Mir slipped her hand down to her left boot, and felt the small sharp knife that was inside its carier. Continuing to ask her, and telling him the same answer, T’Mir sense a sudden change. It wasn’t something you could see, but it was something that in her training, she knew the danger signal. Suddenly erupting before he could do anything, as he tried to go for his own knife to stab her, she had already grabbed her small Karambit, and as he brought up his arm, she locked it, and began to slash away at his entire arm, working her way up and down the arm and upper shoulders, then she punctured his right side numerous time.

Now beginning to panic, he once again tried to pull out a knife with his free hand, then she broke it, and caved in his right knee. Now down on the ground, and unable to get up, he tried one more time to hit her, when she slammed him up against a wall, and as he came down, she aimed a kick to his throat, killing him. With everyone now stunned, she calmly wiped her hands on his clothes, then walked out of the bar, and disappeared into the crowded promenade.

As the security people came as soon as they were called less than an hour later, the dead man who was identified as a leading kingpin in the burgeoning drug market on Starbase 118, was bagged and thrown into a large cart. As the Chief of Security finished up his investigation, he said ‘Whoever killed Max Billard” did the Federation a service. With him now dead, there’s going to be a big turf war here on Starbase 118. And I would be happy to shake that persons hand.

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For T'Mir it had been a long time in coming, Max Billard, had before he had his unfortunate accident at the hands of T'Mir had been on a Hit List on the Department of Diplomatic Security. Long known throughout the many inner circles of the DDS as the one man who had attempted to kill the Andorian Ambassador while in the company of the Federation Ambassador to Elas. With the aborted assassination attempt which left UFP Ambassadors seriously wounded, section 56 a little known but much feared section had been alerted. "Known in some circles as bounty hunters", they were even much powerful than the Federations Secret Police, only getting their orders from the UFP President. Giving the mission to T'Mir she had scoured the entire quadrant, and finally after locating Max on SB118, she had made careful plans. Finally after activating her plans, she had struck, and now with her final mission now completed, she would go through the debriefing process.

The debriefing process involved completely re-engineering her body to look like another, from her sex/gender, hair, eyes, skin color, to including a complete memory block of her activities within Section 56. Once her memory had been erased, she would be given a new set of memories tailored for her. Now it was time, and soon she'd be some else and with no memory of her past life, it would be as though she had never existed... Now it was time, and as SB118 security forces were looking for a woman who's only description was she wore black, T'Mir quickly changed, and soon, a woman came out of the womens resroom, boarded one of the turbolifts to the waiting passenger dock, and after getting back on, she quickly disappeared into the bowels of the massive star liner. Its next stop would be Elas her home. Now with the ship backing away from her mooring lines, T'Mir began to silently smile. Now she could actually relax, and who knows, maybe she'd try her hand at joining Starfleet, she heard from a lot of people that they were always looking for a "RedShirt".....

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Even though space was the same, the lighting system inside SB118 had been programmed to change to simulate an earth-like 24 hour day clock. For the 200 or so Cadets in their 4th year of training, they had been given the opportunity to actually pilot a starship to Starbase 118 for their final space flight exam. Now with a job well done, the Cadets had been granted eight hours of liberty to visit, and see a massive starbase at work.

For T'Mir and ten of her classmates from College of Starfleet Security, their visit would be with the Chief of Starbase Security, Vice Admiral Janet Logan, who was expecting the ten cadets, to be her guest for the next seven days. For Admiral Logan it was her poilicy to have the top 5% of the class join her security foces at Starbase 118, where they would work with her staff, sit in the staff meetings, and learn how a Starbase Security Force worked. Studying at the Academy was one thing, but being out in the real world was something else. But for now all of the 200 cadets were out enjoying themselves on the Promenaded deck visiting the many hundreds of shops, visiting the coffee bars, eating dinner at some of the best restaurants at the base. And for some, there were a few that loved to visit the Starbase's central library to see some of the well preserved books from the early 20th century.

As the USS Ranger left, T'Mir being the most senior cadet took her group to see Admiral Logan. There they were introduced to her various chiefs of their department from patrol, investigations, forensics, administrations, command, and exterior patrol that would use the smaller two to four man security shuttles to patrol outside the massive complex, and during the next week they would be working in the various departments to see which one they liked. For T'Mir she had always set her sights as being the Chief of Security for either a Starship, Starbase or the Diplomatic Corp, while the other choose admiistration, patrol, logistics, and Jail operations. Even on a massive Starbase where there were over 100,000 people at one time, the need for a smaller 200 man prison was always needed, until the convicted could be turned over to a Federation Police Unit for transport to one of the few UFP Prison Colonies.

But for now, as T'Mir and her classmates all stood in line inside the large quartermaster department, they were all issued the standard older "Red Shirts", black pants, boots, and black tee shirts. AFter receiving their uniforms, they went to another line where they received their bedding, and last they were all inside the large armory where they would be issued a phaser set to three settings; Phaser 1, which was programmed to fire a blast rendering a subject unconscious for a few minutes; Phaser 2 which was programmed to render a subject unconscious for thirty minutes, and Phaser 3, programmed to render a subject unconscious for an hour, enough time to transport the sleeping subject to a waiting security paddy wagon. After being assigned, but not issued their Phasers until they went on regular duty, they returned back to the conference room with their supplies, and introduced to the ten Senior Security offices who they would be paired up with.

Since T'Mir had requested to be on patrol she was paired with Lt. Ron Quicksilver, an older human who was in his mid 40's. After each of the cadets met their partners who would be with them for the next seven days, they all left with them to find their rooms. It took T'Mir and the other cadets a few minutes to find their respective rooms. For T'Mir when Lt. Quicksilver opened the room, she found it was large, and with a second bed that was covered with uniforms, books, papers, old food packets, it took her a few minutes to clean off the bed, and then stow her gear in the second locker in the room. Taking a few minutes to dress in her security uniform, she saw herself in the mirror. Removing her gray Academy Uniform, the change to the security uniform was a shock in her transformation. Her colorful shirt, black pants, and shiny boots were a change from the dark gray uniform of the academy. Here stood a real security officer, and as she stood there, she heard Lt. Quicksilver say, its time for dinner, you can admire yourself later when we get back....And as the two left the room, the pneumatic doors slammed shut with a soft whoosh....

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How many times can we write the sceanario? Can you take your character and do multiple scenarios and ideas using your idea?

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News spreads fast on SB118, and when it involved another Starfleet officer a Cadet no doub, it didn't take long before Assistant Chief of Security; Lt Hamilton Burger arrived at the transporter station to await their rather very different and difficult new cadet to SB118. There were stories on the cadet, most of them glowing with very satisfactory marks on her tests, but her psychological test, and her Brigs Meyer Diagnostic test for interpersonal relationships were dismal, but as the psychologist at Starfleets Mental Health division said, her interpersonal relationships would in time get better.

As Lt. Burger arrived, he found Chief Benson the Transporter CPO standing at the controls watching the boards lights now at all green, and then a message came in; "Sir if's from the USS Benton Harbor's Chief of Security". Listening, Lt. Burger took the control and pressed a button, then said, "This is Lt. Burger, the Assistant chief of Security for Starbase 118." Lt. Burger pushed the button and said "to whom am I speaking to?" "Lt. Burger", the voice at the other end said, "this is Lt. Norah Annore, and in a few minutes you're going to get one of my best cadets, and from reading her academy transcripts she's one of the best cadets to go through the Security School", however she does have one small problem".

"She's got a bad temper and an attitude the size of a Sovereign Starship, but don't let her bravado fool you, she's good, she knows her stuff, and she doesn't take "no" for an answer very well. But pound for pound, she's one Cadet that I'd rather have with me in a fight, if my life depended on it." "Well any questions"? There was one question that Lt. Burger had, he said Lt. Annore; "what is her race", you make her seem like a [...]ed off Klingon who's been on a three day drunk. Lt. Annore said, "I seem to have forgotten".... She's "ELasian", and Human. Her mother comes from the planet Elas and her father Philippine Colony at the Ilonggo Federation and is a general of their Constabulary.

"Thanks Lt. Burger said", then with nothing else "Lt. Annore said your new Cadet is now beaming over, and with nothing else; I'm signing off". Suddenly the transporter room begin to hum softly, and within seconds the transporter chamber was now bathed in a cornucopia of bright lights. Within the lights both the Lieutenant and Chief Benson watched the light becoming, and with Chief Benson now receiving the whoever it was inside the chamber he began making a few adjustments to his control panel, and now they could see at first a ghostly image, and within seconds the ghostly image became solid, and in another nanosecond the lights stopped flashing, and soon there was a woman inside the chamber.

For 4th year Cadet T'MIR Mabagnan, she never liked the idea of being sent through thousands of kilometers of dark empty space, and reappearing at a far distant place. Though the use of Transporters had been in use on Elas for well over 300 years, she still didn't like her atoms being destroyed at the point of origin, and being reconstructed at its terminal end, but this was Starfleet. Standing there inside the transporter chamber she could see both the Lieutenant and the Chief looking at her, not sure of what was inside the chamber. Getting down off the platform she stood at over 6'8" in height, and weighed in at around 295 lbs. For an Elasian she was of normal height and it didn't hurt if her father who was Filipino was also over 6'1 inches in height. Standing there in her dark gray Cadet uniform, T'Mer stood at attention, and saluted both Lt. Burger, and the Chief, then presented to Lt. Burger; her Personal and Academy Identity microchip to him. Taking the small 1.5 cm by 1.8 cm chip he said "Welcome aboard Starbase 118; Cadet T'Mer the said follow me. With the both of them now gone, Chief Benson sat down and began to dream of the Cadet, but within seconds the dream or whatever he had in his mind slowly went away.

Following Lt. Benson, T'mer found SB118 a massive facility, as Lt. Benson began a short, but to the point briefing of SB118's main highlights. Soon they reached the command level, and going through many officers Lt. Benson turned a corner, and there was the Security Officer, with a non-security trained crewman manning the desk. watching from his desk the crewman just stared as both Lt. Burger and T'mir went to a large office. Taking the chip he was carrying, he inserted it into the slot in his desk, and soon Cadet T'Mer's personal record came up, and he read the comments on her last psych exam, which said.

STAR FLEET MEDICAL

Psychological Division

ELBA II

Dr. Karaba, Chief Psychologist.

Cadet T'MIR MAGBANGAN has passed all of her psychological tests with flying colors, but does have the beginnings of Type 1 Neural muscular atrophy, or "Anxiety", which is caused by stress complex brought on by her Elasian heritage, and social/psychological conditioning. She has been prescribed medication especially made for her, which has helped her to combat the stress anxiety normally found in all cadets, especially among the 4th year classes.

The stress complex can occur when she is under great emotional strain, resulting in a haughty, and arrogant attitude. During these periods she is subject to voicing her oppositions, and takes out her aggression by throwing objects at people. Though this strain is short lived much to the embarrassment of Cadet T'MER, there is nothing in her psychological workup to show that her short lived aggressive tendencies will result in harm to anyone. At this time, there are no medications available to control her short lived aggressive tendencies, except that having her calm down seems to work.

With no further complications noted in Cadet T'MER's other psychological tests, I hereby authorize her for further training, and continued participation in Star Flet.

Signed,

Dr. Noel Livingston, VADM

Chief of Psychiatry & Space Flight Medicine

ELBA II

Star fleet command

After reading her lengthy medical and personal record, Lt. Burger looked at Cadet T'MER and said; "quite a background that you have cadet. "Yes sir" replied T'MER, but my psychological records will have no bearing on how I do my work in Starfleet. "I'd like to get on with the processing and in briefing, sir: so I can continue with my course of work, and I do believe that your personnel are short at this moment?

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great writing. T'Mer you are going to really like it here. Welcome! so to cover one of the questions,

When a scenario is developed into several rewrites I believe a hypertext would be necessary or a kind of multithreaded jump might work.. but I don't think there is implementation of the multithreaded storyline since... there are several drawbacks for group participation, not to mention confusion. I think you can see how that would cause a problem?

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Well, I guess I overworked my character. When it said write, I wrote it from a different point of view. The problem is that the instructions never said you can only write your character's entrance only once. So like a crazed woman, I wrote my character from different ideas.

Sorry

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Trellis Vondaryan stepped off the transport, taking his first steps into Starbase 118. He was excited to be so close to the Romulan Neutral Zone again, even if only for a brief time. Maybe he could put those Romulan language courses he took at the academy to use. If not here, then somewhere, he thought.

He looked around the base, heading off in a random direction. So many shops to try, so little time before training began. There was bound to be a pub serving wine and cheese around here somewhere. His powerful Vissian olfactory senses made finding good Human food a challenge, but that was the fun in exploring. How did he know if he liked something unless he tried it? Just like back at the Academy, when Haylie had encouraged him to try coffee for the first time. “You’ll like it,” she had ensured him. Sure, coffee smelled great, but he could not get over the bitter taste, no matter the sweeteners. Just another Human eccentricity he didn’t quite understand.

He stopped at a restaurant where the smells wafting from it were enticing. Trellis had not tried much Andorian food, yet. With the open seating he could people watch on the Promenade, too. Or read reports on his PADD. Or maybe chat with a local. Or work on those engine designs. Or fix some of his malfunctioning equipment. The possibilities were nearly endless. He smiled.

After feasting on surprisingly aromatic dishes, including a spicy wine, Trellis sighed in contentment. He ran his fingers through his unkempt blonde hair, checking the time. He realized he still had hours left to explore the starbase. Just enough time for a good game of chess.

Now, which way to that 8x8 place he’d heard about?

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When the door opened with a silent pneumatics sound, Ingri stepped out of the sluice into the entry corridor of the Starbase 118. The starbase itself was quite a standard design with metal and plastic everywhere, but there were also some potted plants, or at least something, that looked like it. His cybernetic eye detected though, that they were made mostly of plastic, and that disappointed the cybernated rekarian. He hoped to be in environment at least made a bit more of the natural materials, but it seemed that his wish would be a bit naive one.

With metallic knocking of his cyber-leg he went through the corridor to undergo a standard checking procedure that he was already used to. Rekarians were always the people of peace, even cybernated ones, but any implants had to be registered in the security database. After the registering, he went to the admirals quarters to report to duty, as it was a standard procedure for any ship officer or cadet, who were onboard for first time.

While he was following the pointers to the admirals quarters he passed several starbase officers, who were surprised to see a cyborg on a starbase, but Ingri didn't care. He lost his arm and leg? As well as his left eye during an accident with power generator, when the burns were so harsh, that it was easier to replace his limbs. Frankly, noone else was hurt in the accident, and insurance was just enough to restore Ingri fit enough for service in the StarFleet.

Going all the way along the corridors, Ingri finally reached the admirals office and knocked on the door. The entry allowance signal returned almost instantly, and cadet stepped into the office looking on a mid-age human admiral, who was an obligatory visit by every cadet who is commandeered to the starbase.

- Cadet Ingri Warren reporting for duty, sir!

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Guest Corena Boyer

Character Name: Braylin Winters

Nickname / Alias: Bray

Gender: Female

Race: Human

Age: 23

Date of Birth: 236807.09

Place of Birth: San Francisco, USA

General Appearance: Long red hair, hazel eyes. Oval face with small scar under her left eye and a few freckles. Thin curvy shape.

Height: 5’4’’

Weight: 132

Well the day she had longed for had finally arrived. Braylin Winters stepped off the transport wearing a smile that made the entire promenade lights pale in comparison. This was the day she had dreamed about many times in her four years at the academy and she knew this was only the beginning of an incredible journey.

“Excuse me sir?” she said to a small round man sitting on a bench. “Can you tell me where the shop named Veronique’s is located?”

“What! What are you saying child! Speak up I can’t hear you.” the man bellowed.

Braylin looked around nervously. She had obviously chosen the wrong person to ask. This man appeared nearly completely deaf.

Braylin stepped closer to the man and leaned in as she repeated much louder this time. “I’m looking for the shop Veronique’s. Do you know where it is?”

“Ahh yes. It’s most popular with you youngins. Here let me show you.” He bellowed again, his voice echoing throughout the large hallway. Scooting off the bench he landing on both feet with a thud. “It’s just down this hall, not too far.”

“No. Really that’s not necessary.” She tried to interject but the man just started walking as if he hadn’t heard her. Braylin followed the man after deciding stepping into the nearest shop to hide was out the question. Her mom had always taught her manners. Catching up to him she was relieved when they came to the shop she was looking for.

“Here ya have it. Veronique’s!” he said making sure to use his fake French accent when he said the shop name. “This is what you were looking for I take it?” he asked.

“Yes sir. Thank you.” She replied.

“What’d ya say missy? Ya gotta speak up. I’m no youngin anymore.” He laughed and his belly shook. Braylin thought how he reminded her of one of the dwarfs in an old fairy tale her dad used to read to her.

“Yes sir. Thank you.” She repeated louder nodding her head.

The man took her hand abruptly and started patting it with his other hand. “Anytime missy, you come back and visit Edgar now. Ya hear? What’s your name anyways?”

Braylin just wanted the encounter over so she could stop shouting, but there was really no getting around the conversation being he had been kind enough to show her the way. Besides she thought there was something very endearing about the man. “I’m Braylin Winters. It’s very nice to meet you Edgar.”

“Yup that’s me. Edgar Mills. Ahh, well I bet you’ll be off on some deep space mission soon. The pretty ones never stick around very long. Probably never see ya round this parts again, at least anytime soon. But you promise old Edgar you’ll find me and say hello if you’re ever in the neighborhood.”

“Of course, thank you.” Braylin replied politely.

“You take care yourself now.” He said with a wink. With that he hobbled off back in the direction they had come from.

Braylin watched him go and then turned her attention to the task at hand. She had spent so much time looking for the shop prior to meeting Edgar that she had only forty-five minutes to pick out a gift for her mom. This would be the first year she wouldn’t be able to be home for her mom’s birthday and she thought if she found a gift from this shop her mom had been raving about it might make things a little easier. Scanning the shelves she finally settled on a black and white vintage toile scarf. After paying the merchant she exited the store and headed in the direction of the holodeck where she was to report for her first briefing. All the time hope Edgar was right and she would soon be in deep space exploring.

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((Commercial Sector, Starbase 118))

”HEY THERE!”.

The shout immediately behind her, startled Leeta, making her stop dead in her tracks. Looking around, Leeta saw a stout man in a Starfleet uniform running up to her, holding her earring in his hand. It must have fallen off just as she stepped off the pad at the transporter station. She accepted the earring from the man with a grateful, but embarrassed smile. It was unlike her to lose her belongings like that.

The silver earring was a symbol of the Ih’valla D’jarra and had been given to her by her grandmother on her mother’s side. She had been allowed to wear it throughout her cadet training and it was the dearest possession she had. She took a close look at the earring and was surprised to see that the clasp was broken. She’d been wearing the earring constantly for ten of her twenty-five years and never had it broken. Through all the battle drills and combat exercises it had stayed put. Now, that she was about to round off her training with the cadet cruise, it had fallen off. Leeta sighed tiredly and hoped that the broken earring was not a sign of more bad luck to come.

Leeta put the earring in her purse and then looked down at the PADD in her hand to check the time. It was still early. A whole three hours to kill before she had to report for the briefing on the holodeck. She looked around the crowded Promenade, grimacing at the noise and bustle. She didn’t feel like being around people at the moment and she could feel a dull ache starting up behind her eyes. Leeta had hardly slept a wink all night. She and Andrus had exchanged angry words. Some of the things she’d said to him, she regretted now, but it was too late to take them back. Finally she had stormed out of the room back to her quarters, where she had lain in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep, his harsh accusations still ringing in her ear. She could still hear them now. What she desperately wanted to do was to cleanse her mind of it all – for a little while at least.

Cleansing! That gave her an idea.

With brisk footsteps Leeta headed down to the subway that would take her to IDIC, the Vulcan Spa. First a soak in the mineral pool and then a herbal massage. That would rid her body and soul of all that was toxic. After the treatments, she would emerge from the spa, fresh and invigorated and ready to face whatever new surprises Starfleet had in store for her later that day.

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The air at the top of the dome shimmered beneath the artificial sun, simulated clouds swirling slowly a kilometre above his head. Even after five years here, Shurimal Vex still found the starbase as beautiful as it was improbable. From every wall the wasn't a window to the Milky Way beyond, flowers and foliage hung in exotically manicured designs. Fountains and plants from every corner of the quadrant lined the plazas and wide promenades which led to shops, restaurants, temples, buildings of every shape and purpose. A whole city floating in space and housing innumerable species and cultures. It was mesmerising.

Sitting on one of the private balconies of Nexxor's, his 'local' haunt on SB118, the Ullian found he had mixed feelings about his quickly approaching graduation – on the one hand, he was exhilarated at the thought of finally getting out there and exploring the galaxy, boldly going to distant stars and discovering new civilisations, but on the other, this starbase had become his home and he found it hard to imagine once again living on starship, with everything that entailed.

Vex smiled to himself, unconsciously stroking the patterned membrane that joined his brow to his ear and swept back to his scalp under his hairline. Casually, gently, he lowered his guard and let his mind passively expand, let the whispers of millions of minds flow past him like a gentle breeze, comforted by the close contact with more species and individuals than he could count. He remembered how difficult and uncomfortable it was when he first arrived here, having finally been accepted into Starfleet Academy after two failed attempts and several years of study and field work for the Ullian History Council. Although only five years ago, it seemed like another lifetime, lived by another person.

He had never been to such a populous place before, and he remembered that for the first month he could barely sleep, thousands of foreign dreams invading his own, millions of thoughts in his own voice but not from his mind.

All Ullians were telepathic, but on his home world the abilities were taken for granted. Scant training was offered nor particularly required. Only a handful of pupils were admitted to study with the Mind Council and practical psionics had never interested Vex anyhow.

How he had regretted this fact when first he had landed, completely unprepared for the mental onslaught. He had never experienced anything like it, so many people in such a concentrated space, inescapable. He had had to learn the hard way how to control his telepathic abilities, how to build blocks and how to use his 'sixth' sense effectively and responsibly. It was a difficult few months, and he missed several deadlines that first semester – and several classes – whilst he was learning to master his own mind.

But now Vex dreaded the very opposite – how lonely, how quiet life aboard a ship might be.

It was silly to feel this way, he scolded himself. He remembered exactly what life before Starfleet was like, and he had not been lonely! This emotionalism and sentimentality was too Human. Ullians famously had a unique and special relationship to memory and history, and the Ullian Mind Council was renowned for developing the innate retrocognitive ability of its students, aiding Federation historians enormously. Vex had no excuses, he could not romanticise his memories, nor cling to nostalgia: like all Ullians, Vex was gifted and cursed with total recall. He remembered exactly what the past was like, for all of its good and its bad.

Look forward, he firmly told himself. You know you will survive, you will thrive, aboard a Starfleet vessel! You know because you have worked so hard to get here!

Vex wasn't a naturally gifted student. His successes came from passion, not ability. His love of history, of discovery, had driven him to study hard and discipline himself. He guessed this is why his first two applications to Starfleet at eighteen had failed and only after seven years working as an archaeologist with the Historhy Council was he accepted to the Academy. Although it had hurt at first, he now understood how necessary and beneficial those rejections were for they had led him to where he sat today, just a few hours away from his cadet cruise, the final hurdle before graduation. Sometimes it seemed strange to be graduating at thirty when most of his class were still in their early twenties. Still kids, it sometimes seemed.

But he had lived. None of his years had been wasted. He had unearthed the great ruins of Kechenkel on Jergan IV, earning him a commendation from the Council. He had travelled to dozens of planets across vast sectors of the galaxy, meeting history, adventure and discovery. He had stared danger and fear squarely in the eyes and had not blinked. And all that was before he ever got into Starfleet.

Starfleet, though, had given him something different. It had, he believed, turned him into a man, as cliché as that sounded even to his own internal monologue. Starfleet had given him himself. Now he knew who he was and how to be himself, no longer uncomfortable in his own body and mind, no longer unsure. Despite all the wonders he had seen as an exo-archaeologist (some of which he had been the first to see in millennia), despite all the dangers he had face and all the skills he had acquired, it was only here at the Academy that he felt he had finally grown up.

Vex roused himself from his reverie, lost as he was in the crystal clear oceans of his memory, and withdrew his mind back into himself, slowly silencing the psychic eddies of the base.

He checked his pocket watch. It was rather ostentatious and very old-fashioned – it required winding every night! – but it was gift from his parents to celebrate his first posting on an off-world expedition with the Ullian History Council. They had been so proud of him, almost as proud as he had been of himself, that they had spent months seeking the ornate antique timepiece. He always carried it with him.

Twenty past eleven in the morning, the analogue dial displayed. Henry was late. As usual.

Henry Jacobson was, Vex supposed, the Ullian's best friend in the Academy, although certainly neither would ever express such a mawkish sentiment, especially to each other. Jacobson also wore the blue collar, although strictly hard sciences only. Jacobson was an astrophysicist and, Vex knew, a rather brilliant one for a man so young. But his brilliance came at a price – he was generally irascible and unsocial, which was in many ways fortunate as he was also generally unpopular and resented.

Still, somehow the two had formed a bond. Vex thought it was because Jacobson couldn't stand people his own age, whom he considered to be entirely vapid; an unfair generalisation, Vex would remind him to no avail. For Vex's own part, he found Jacobson's genius to be truly impressive, if a little daunting. Besides this, during his first semester here Jacobson was the only student Vex could sit near without getting a migraine. The Human's mind was just so focused, so tight, that nothing ever leaked, nothing was broadcast unconsciously. Being around Henry was like walking off a hot, busy road into a cool building, shutting the door behind you – the traffic outside was still audible, but it was at a distance, reduced from deafening roar to manageable murmur. Shurimal could control all that himself now, of course, but at the time it had saved his sanity.

Over their time together at the Academy the pair became quite inseparable, and a sudden pang in his heart brought home to Vex exactly how much he was going to miss his grumpy, clever friend. He already knew that Starfleet Science had its eye on Henry. He wouldn't end up on a ship.

Pointlessly, Vex checked his watch again. Only two and a half minutes had passed. There was still no sign of Henry. Vex sighed, shaking his head. In five years Jacobson had never once been on time. At first it annoyed him, but now Vex found it almost endearing. Almost.

Nexxor herself appeared next to him on the balcony, wearing a garish dress made of many different materials and colours. She grinned sweetly with her sharp little teeth. “He's late again,” the Ferengi proprietress intoned flatly through her unmoving smile. It wasn't a query.

“Oh, not really,” Vex deadpanned. “If I wanted to see him now, I would have told him to meet me at ten instead of eleven.”

Nexxor's smile remained as her eyes narrowed. “Are you ready to order.” Another non-query.

“He should be here soon.”

“There are customers who want seats now. It is almost lunch.”

“But surely we're your best customers? We are here every day!” Vex protested, knowing he was pushing his luck. The paiir could make two drinks last two hours, much to Nexxor's exasperation.

In a feat only a Ferengi could pull off, Nexxor was now scowling and smiling at the same time in the most unpleasant manner!

“You know I love you boys like my own sons – but they pay.”

“Okay, okay!” Vex conceded defeat. “Bring me the soup du jour. Debit my account.”

The scowl remained, but for the first time the smile faltered. “You've been holding one of my best balconies for an hour and a half and now you order… soup?! Why, is there nothing cheaper on the menu you would like?”

“Believe me, I've checked.”

For the briefest moment Vex feared he had crossed the line, before Nexxor turned on her heels with an angry flourish, a rainbow of skirts swirling around her, and stalked off muttering curses on his family under her breath. Not for the first time, he was grateful that he could not hear minds in four-lobed brains.

He wondered if she would contaminate his soup.

A few moments later and the short, wiry frame of Henry Jacobson marched out onto the balcony.

“Nexxor looks like she's ready to throttle a targ,” he said seriously as he took his seat opposite Vex. There was no hint that an apology for his lateness would be forthcoming. “She shot me the filthiest look as she stormed by. What did you say to her this time?”

“I ordered soup,” Vex replied innocently.

“Hmm.” Jacobson eyed him suspiciously, but a half smile hovered at one corner of his mouth. He pulled two PADDs out from his satchel, laying them on the table as he continued to speak. Both were scrawled with formulae and equations that had nothing to do with his Academy courses. “Are you ready?”

Vex thought before answering, observing as Henry started to scroll through various sections on each PADD. “As ready, I think, as I can be.”

“You want to go over any of the scenarios again?” Jacobson offered, his eyes not leaving the PADDs. “Apparently they've changed the parameters of the Shabtai and Leian simulations. There are still a few hours, we could--”

“No,” interrupted Vex, waving his hand, “Thank you, it's all right. I'm prepared. Part of the cadet cruise is evaluating how I deal with the unexpected. Besides, before I came to the Academy I faced some pretty scary situations out there, I'm sure I can handle anything a simulation can throw at me.”

“Not another 'when I was your age' anecdote, please, Shurimal!” Jacobson groaned, teasing his friend.

“Fine, fine. But when you are my age--”

“No more!” Jacobson covered his ears with his hands and pleaded with his eyes.

“I'll stop...”

Henry tentatively began to lower his hands.

“...when you learn to respect your elders!”

Vex began to laugh as Jacobson slumped in his seat with a pained expression. Nexxor appeared dramatically in the doorway, carrying a tray with a small, steaming bowl atop it and wearing her sharp, spiky smile.

“Why, if it isn't my other 'best customer'. Let me guess: ice water? A bread stick?”

“Nothing for me, thank you,” Jacobson replied quickly, suddenly absorbed once more in his formulae. Vex knew it was just to avoid meeting her eyes and he could swear that there was, just for a second, the hint of a grin on the Human's face.

Vex risked a quick glance and a smile as Nexxor rather firmly set his soup on the table, followed by the jangle of the metal spoon hitting the table with some force. Above her rictus smile she wore a face like a thunderstorm. He thought he better try to salvage the situation if the pair were ever to frequent here again.

“I forgot to say earlier,” he ventured, “but, of course, give yourself a generous tip.”

“Oh, don't you worry,” Nexxor's smiled broadened, her voice a knife's edge, “I did.”

Edited by shurimalvex
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Arturo hated beaming. He knew that his chance of dying in a shuttle was far, far higher than the chance of his signal being lost whilst beaming. It was irrational. And although Arturo despised his irrational part, he sometimes just couldn´t supress it.

When he opened his eyes again (He always closed them whilst beaming in a sort of reflex) Arturo saw the other cadets next to him already swaggering of to an adventure of some sort on this starbase. He sighed. It wasn´t that he didn´t liked his young, impulsive co-cadets, he was probably just to old for them. Arturo never planned to go to Star Fleet. He didn´t came out of a traditional officer family. He wasn´t a really good academic. He wasn´t even the most athletic.

Arturo had hired with into a so called "Private security contractor" when he was seventeen on a semi-legal basis. His time in this company was troubled. The contractor had alot a big scandal covered up five years ago, and was forced to close down in 2388. Although Arturo could never deny his involvment in this affair, he could come out of it somewhat unscathed.

The only thing he was sure about on this point is that he wanted to become "clean" again, doing a job in which he would actually contribute to society. And then came the faithful day on which he walked aimlessly through the streets of San Francisco when he discovered the Star Fleet Marine Recruitment Office...

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A sneaky woman sits in one of the lounges chairs, facing the window. She has almond shaped red eyes. Her thick, straight, white hair is pulled back in a style that reminds you of a trailing ribbon. She is tall and has an elegant build. Her skin is paler than normal. She has high cheekbones and small feet. Her name is Solaris, a 5th Year cadet in Starfleet. Her uniform bears the colours of a Starfleet Intelligence cadet.


Solaris leaned back in her seat, the transports lounge mostly dark. The dim light of a PADD on its lowest brightness setting illuminated her face. On the screen were her orders, telling her to report to Starbase 118 for her cadet cruise. She hoped that after the cruise, she would be assigned to the base itself, knowing it was pretty much the center of Intelligence for the Trinity Sector. Around her, other cadets busied themselves with their own PADDs. Cadets weren't the only passengers aboard the transport, however, other officers and civilians populated the seats too, presumably on their way to destinations throughout the Trinity Sector. She set her PADD down on her lap and let her eyes scan the lounge covertly.


Being a 5th year, she was a year older than most of the cadets on the transport, which would make most people self conscious, but she didn't care, she had taken 5 years by choice. She picked the PADD back up and powered its screen off, then placed it back in her bag. She produced a book out of the bag and settled back again, opening it to where she had left off. The lounge's internal PA system dinged.


"Ladies and gentleman, this is the Captain speaking. We are currently preparing to dock at Starbase 118. If you are disembarking to the base, we ask that you please gather your belongings and make your way to one of the airlocks. Solaris closed her book, and placed it back in her bag, closing it. She stood, and stretched, grateful that her travels were coming to an end for the time being.


She collected her bag, and a slightly longer soft case and slung both over her shoulder. She made her way toward the nearest airlock, glancing out the windows as she walked along the corridor. The ship was slowly moving into the massive internal docking bay of the Starbase. Shuttles and work bees flitted around darting between locations as the base went about its business. The ship shook gently, as it was grabbed by the stations mooring beams. As she arrived at the airlock, people were just starting to disembark. She moved along the gangway with a light step, weaving in between slower moving passengers. She emerged from the gangway, directly onto the station's massive Promenade, and stood for a moment, in awe of its seemingly infinite size.


She glanced around, having emerged in a section themed to appear like New Orleans on Earth. The sounds of trumpets and other brass instruments drifted through the air, adding to the ambiance of the area. She was almost positive she would see a restaurant named 'Sisko's' sitting there. There wasn't of course, but it wouldn't have surprised her. She gave a glance at one of the old styled clocks that dotted that section of the Promenade, finding she had a couple of hours to kill before reporting in. She made her way to a small cafe and found a seat. The hostess approached.


"Welcome to the Café du Monde. What can I get you?" she asked cheerily. Solaris smiled.


"A cup of earl grey tea, and a plate of beignets, please." she said in her Irish lilt. The hostess smiled, and nodded moving off the get her order. Solaris turned her attention to the Promenade itself, simply observing people as they went about their business. A group soon approached and took a position out of the main flow of traffic. The were assembling their instruments, clearly a jazz quartet. They soon struck up a rousing rendition 'When the Saints Go Marching In', causing her to smile faintly. The hostess soon brought over her food and tea.


"Thank you." she said, nodding. The hostess smiled.


"If you need anything, just holler. Name's Anna." she said.


"I will, thanks." Solaris replied, going back to enjoying the music, eating her food. She too a bit of one of the sweet pastries on her plate, savoring it for a moment, before washing it down with some tea. She wondered just what was in store for her on her cadet cruise.

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