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  1. Completed first date scene between Counselor Meidra Sirin and Crewman Hamsan Dwich. Both writers did so well and this scene felt genuine. (( Starboards, Ship’s Library, Deck 2, USS Resolution )) Dwich sat quietly at a corner table, his hands wrapped around a hot mug of raktajino, and tried not to let his nerves get the best of him. He’d almost asked Meidra if she wanted to grab a bite or a coffee with him, but they were interrupted by their duties in Sickbay. By the time Dwich’s shift was over, Meidra was behind closed doors in her office, understandably busy with the uptick in mental health concerns of crew and refugees alike. Which was why he was so pleasantly surprised to receive a message from her shortly thereafter, inviting him to meet her in the ship’s library. He first planned to wear just his standard uniform, but one of his roommates convinced him to put a little more effort into his appearance, so he’d selected a casual light-blue shirt and dark trousers and ran a hand through his hair to give it that messy-on-purpose look he thought suited him well. Dwich purposely sat facing the door so he’d notice Meidra the moment she walked in, and when she did, he got butterflies in his stomach. He was grateful he listened to his roommates and changed clothes; she looked wonderful in her off-duty attire, and he’d have felt silly turning up in uniform. She gave him a nod from across the room where she was ordering a beverage, and he stood to greet her when she arrived at the table. Sirin: Hello, I’m glad you could join me. I haven’t had much of a chance to see more than Sick Bay or my office. The cafe has become a bit of a sanctuary for me lately. They sat back down and Dwich smiled, just happy to get to spend some more time with the mysterious and fascinating counselor. Hamsan: I’m glad you invited me. I haven’t had the chance to explore much of the ship, either, what with just coming aboard at the last mission. I’m sure you’ve been busy, too. After everything that happened with the Sau, we could all use someone sympathetic and caring to talk to. Meidra graciously accepted the compliment with a gentle nod and Dwich took a sip of his raktajimo, drinking in both the beverage and the friendly warmth that his date seemed to put off so effortlessly. Hamsan: I guess we’re going to Vulcan after all? I’m looking forward to it. Sirin: Have you been to Vulcan before? It is not a usual place for a shore leave, but given the circumstances with the captain, it is a logical destination. Hamsan: I never have. How about you? ::beat:: I mean, I suppose you have. That is, if you’re actually… erm… what I mean is, you don’t look like… ::chuckling:: I’m sorry. Meidra laughed, which only confused Dwich further about his assumption that she was Vulcan. It was a pleasant laugh, though, and made him feel at ease. Sirin: Well, I’m only half Vulcan, and look more like my mother’s family. My twin brother, Salan, appears almost completely Vulcan. My grandfather favors him for this reason. Vulcan genes seem to override most other genetics, but ::she motioned to her hair and face:: Auburn hair, green eyes, two traits not known on Vulcan, hybrid or not. My younger sister takes after my father…..in looks. Meidra’s gaze met Dwich’s, and her expression seemed to change almost imperceptibly in a split-second—still friendly, but ever-so-slightly closed off. It was as if she didn’t want to finish what she had started to say. Sirin: Tell me about yourself, I know you said you trained on Luna and at the Academy. What drew you to this path? Dwich smiled again as Medira deftly redirected the conversation to the new topic. Rather than draw attention to it, he tried his best to reflect back her same calming energy, and answered the question with easy enthusiasm. Hamsan: It’s a pretty simple story. I always wanted to help people; even when I was a child, I knew the path the Prophets wanted me to walk involved dedicating my life to the service of others. But, I didn’t really have the grades to enter a university back home, and when I visited the local monastery in Dakhur Province to join their order, they told me my pagh was meant to follow a different path. Dwich recalled the confusion and disappointment he felt when, at just eighteen years old, the ranjen told him that he would not be accepted as a postulant at the monastery, and that he would have to carve out another life for himself. Despite the fact that he was happy and fulfilled in his life now, it was still difficult to relive the memories of that time. Hamsan: Bajor joined the Federation when I was 19, and it seemed like a perfect opportunity to go make a life for myself somewhere else. I lived on Casperia for a while, but working in the resorts just wasn’t fulfilling at all. A few months later, after I had moved to Luna, I enrolled in the EMT program and I just fell in love with it. And I am good at it, too! Enlisting in Starfleet seemed like a great way to get better at my job, and serve not just patients in sickbay, but my crewmates. ::chuckling:: Plus, it’s far easier to get home to see my family serving in Starfleet than it was working at the hospital in Copernicus. Sirin: Are you close to your family? They must be very proud of you. Hamsan: I am. My whole family is still on Bajor. I have two older brothers, one works in the Press Office of the First Minister and the other is a full-time father. My father is a merchant and my mother retired from the Militia right before Bajor joined the Federation. She led her own resistance cell during the Occupation, and she always says her loyalty is to the Prophets first, her family second, Bajor third— ::mimicking his mother’s tone and cadence playfully:: —‘and that’s it!’ They offered her a Starfleet commission, but she said it didn’t feel right to wear someone else’s uniform. My career choice is ironic in that regard, I guess. Sirin: Your mother sounds like an amazing woman. I would imagine it was not easy during the occupation. Hamsan: She doesn’t like to talk about it. I wish she did; there’s so much I wish I knew about her and what she did during those days. It’s been almost 30 years since the Occupation ended, and a lot of the people who fought with her are getting older and dying. I know she feels the loneliness of losing those people, the connection of that shared experience. Dwich, now lost in his own story, paused and looked at Meidra apologetically. Hamsan: I am sorry, I shouldn’t be going on like we’re in a session. I am sure you’re stressed enough without having to listen to my family problems. Sirin: I am a bit stressed, but it’s not you. I’m not sure how I heard the captain. As I said earlier, my telepathic ability has been limited. Meditation didn’t quite help, though I’ve never been good at it. My father always told me I had a mind that was too impatient for logic. Dwich set his empty mug down on the table and leaned forward slightly. He thought about taking Meidra’s hand, but wasn’t certain whether such a gesture was too premature for…whatever it was they were to each other. He hoped his hesitancy was well-reasoned, but the desire remained. Hamsan: I may not know much about logic, but I know a thing or two about people. No disrespect to your father, of course, but I think he’s wrong. Sirin: I suppose I’ll have to make another appointment with Dr. Adea to sort through my emotions, though I can’t say that I’m distressed, merely, curious at this point. This could be a helpful development if it continues. ::she tilted her head:: I don’t want you to think that I’m not having a good time talking with you, because I am. You are very easy to talk to, so I may start to talk too much. If you choose to work with me, you’ll find that I tend to talk quite a bit. Dwich perked up at that. He was excited when Meidra had suggested he cross-train with her as a psych technician, but afterward, he doubted himself and wondered whether she was just being polite. Hamsan: ::nodding:: I would like that very much. Sirin: I’ll talk with Dr. Adea about having you do some training with me, if you’re still interested. I think we could work well together. ::she smirked:: You are very honest and kind, I find that these qualities are somewhat rare, at least ::she stammered a bit:: I mean, people don’t usually find me easy to talk to unless it’s a work situation. This has been - nice. I’d like to do it again, if you aren’t opposed. It doesn’t have to be coffee, we could perhaps find something to do together. Dwich nodded again and tried not to look too eager, but it was hard. He really liked Meidra, and was already thinking about the next opportunity they’d have to spend time together. Dwich: Vulcan is a big planet. Maybe I could convince you to play tour guide and show me around? oO Just say it, Dwich. Oo I like you, Meidra, and I want to see you again. Sirin: Good, that’s good. I would love to spend some time with you again. They stood up and Meidra offered her hand. Dwich took it in his and felt her gently squeeze it. Better late than never. Touching her made him feel all kinds of ways, and although he still didn’t understand how Meidra’s telepathy worked, he hoped that she understood the esteem in which he held her. After a moment, they parted, and Dwich stayed behind to clear their small cafe table. As he placed the pair of mugs back in the replicator, he realized he’d remained smiling even after she’d left the room.
    4 points
  2. Yeah, Loxley’s Vulcan persona is slipping a tad
    1 point
  3. Our Away Team currently finds itself in a dire situation but Ensign Rel's reaction managed to put a smile on my face 😄.
    1 point
  4. THETA 122 — Following a harrowing pirate attack that endangered both Starfleet and civilian assets, the crew of the Starship Arrow (NCC-69829) has knuckled down to the business of shore leave. Overtones of exhaustion and fatigue have been near-constant adversaries to crew morale in the months since the arrival at Theta 122. What began as a diplomatic conference on this occasion, an attempt to bring the various species confined to the planet into some form of cooperative cohesion, ended with bloodshed and chaos as one participant revealed the trap she had laid for both the Arrow and the guests aboard her. “No comment”, remarked an engineering crewman who preferred to remain anonymous. “We’ll talk more when I’m well and truly (redacted).” Meanwhile, on the surface, a detachment of Starfleet officers led by Lt. Cmdr Collins did their best to install a water filtration system for the new inhabitants of the planet. However, as part of a more coordinated assault by piracy forces, hostile aggressors attacked and tried to prevent the team from completing the mission. In orbit, a skeleton crew worked to defend against a relentless onslaught from the Razor’s Edge, an Orion privateer raider. Compromised, low on power and with boarding teams beaming aboard, Arrow’s senior staff defended key locations with phasers and computer trickery. The Saber-class vessel’s history of service in the Dominion War proved useful, with the hull specifically adapted to be resistant against the Edge’s polaron-based weaponry. Seeing a way in, Cmdr. Shayne ordered helm officer Lt. Chloe Waters to approach the Edge for an ultimate attack; though this went somewhat awry, help from Captain Beriali Dau of the Caldonian vessel Syrtan, and General Murkad of the IKS K’prong saw off the privateer threat. Recognizing the need for leave (after completing urgent repairs) Shayne saw to the shore leave of all personnel, while doctors and Arrow counsellor Lt. R’Ariel treated serious injuries of every shape and sort. Acknowledging the season, Shayne established a small village on the northern part of Theta 122 for the crew to enjoy. Where he presented awards of every sort to crew members for their brave and bold action in the most recent conflict. The Arrow’s staff, despite setbacks, have begun to acclimate to their (hopefully) temporary surroundings. Written by Randal Shayne The post Arrow Makes The Most Of Shore Leave As Trouble Brews Beneath Surface of Theta 122 appeared first on StarBase 118 Star Trek RPG. http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ufopsb118?d=yIl2AUoC8zA http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ufopsb118?i=Pul_EwEAKeY:75PhRIgXaPg:D7DqB2pKExk http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ufopsb118?d=qj6IDK7rITs http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ufopsb118/~4/Pul_EwEAKeYView the full article
    1 point
  5. This a beautiful ending to a storyline by @Meidra Sirin, a character at the end of their rag, forced to murder and suicide. ((Bridge, the Megalana)) Teril was not a good being, that was never in question, but he was not proud of how his life had turned out. Fighting the weak was not part of the mercenary code he’d followed his entire life. You kill those who have what you want, but you do it and move on to the next score, you don’t become part of the established cruelty. He found his way to the communications area and frowned. What he was planning was considered treason, but truth be told - Teril was tired. Tired of pretending to enjoy the boring, pointless existence he had been living as one of Lo’Thar’s lieutenants. He sent a message to the other ship, and waited in the silent command center of a doomed ship. Soon, an answering beep to his message came through. The warm bloods were willing to talk again. He had the feeling that they liked to talk quite a bit. Pushing the appropriate button Teril took a deep breath and sealed his fate. Farrel: Response Not the pretty bird...he vaguely wondered where she’d flown off too, he would have enjoyed seeing her again. No matter, there were greater things to sort through now. Teril: Resolution - I grow weary of thissss game. Lo’Thar isss dead. I am in command. I no longer think wasting resources of chasing your pitiful ship a good plan. Farrel: Response Teril ::glancing down at Lo’Thar’s corpse:: There wasss a….difference of opinion. It hasss been resolved. Teril could feel the alien presence in his mind again, a calming influence - he doubted she even knew she was doing it, but still, he was grateful to have it during this last exchange. He bowed to the screen, knowing that this would have angered Lo’Thar by its implied respect, and he felt even lighter now. He sent a silent thank you to this….Meidra….who gave her sense of peace to those who did not deserve it. Farrel: Response Any: Response Though they did not need it, Teril felt that he would give these people a basic understanding of why they had found themselves in this situation. He paused, not knowing why it mattered to him to explain, only that if he was to rid himself of the stench of Lo’Thar’s incompetence, he must begin with this explanation. Teril: Our people have used this tunnel in space to draw in prisoners for years. We’ve let them die to feed our machines, we’ve used that energy by ssselling it to the highest bidder. We have become ssstale cogs of a machine that bringsss no glory. It will be ended. I’ve sent the necessary information to your data banks. Tell your people on the planet to get far from the refinery, or they shall perish with the guardsssss. You have exactly two hours before it will be too late. Farrel: Response Any: Response Teril: Sssoon, reinforcements will arrive to help Lo’Thar’s pathetic quest for power. When they arrive, they will see a burning pile of death. This machine was a prototype, the only one built. When it issss gone, I will have no reassson to remain. It was ::searches for word:: entertaining to meet you. Tell your captain that I regret never hearing her sssssing for me. I’m sure she would have been my favorite songbird. He didn’t wait for an answer, switching the screen off. He did not have long before the soldiers arrived. He put in the code to start the self destruct sequence, knowing that merely crashing the craft into the buildings below would not give the explosion he required to send his soul into the warrior’s afterlife. Once he was certain that the little ship had received the instructions on how to reverse their trip through the anomaly, he sat back and contemplated how this mission had gone wrong, yet somehow had ended in the perfect way for all involved. Farrel: Response Teril ignored the summons, his work was done, his life done as well. He allowed himself a few moments to reflect on his actions, knowing that the repercussions would echo through Sau history for years to come. There would be no second machine. There would be no reason to harvest slaves for the comfort of the elite. He could almost pretend he was a hero, instead of a weary soldier for hire, tired of his very existence. Somewhere, on a small planet, Lo’Thar’s wife would hear the news of her husband’s passing. She would hear that his small craft was pulled into a malfunction of the machine she had helped create. Perhaps she would feel guilt that her work had killed her mate, perhaps relief. Teril would have no one to grieve his death, as his father had declared him dead to his clan years ago. Putting in the coordinates to his final glory, he instructed the computer to play a lullaby his nanny had sung on the cold nights of his childhood. It was fitting to be lulled into the final sleep in such a way, not as the hardened mercenary he had tried to be, but the lonely boy who never had a home of his own. He grinned as he realized how maudlin his thoughts had become, watching as the instrument panel warned him of his reentry into the atmosphere while being in self destruct mode. As the song floated into his memory, he could almost imagine seeing his mother’s face, beckoning him to her side. He closed his eyes and sat back in the commander’s chair, ignoring the computer’s warning that the ship was on a dangerous course that would likely kill him. As the ship made its final burst of speed and crashed into the refinery, his last thought was that he had finally found the true meaning of glory. End scene/life Teril - Sau Commander Simmed by : Lt JG Meidra Sirin Counseling officer USS Resolution R239707MS0
    1 point
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