Rebecca Iko

This sim by @Robin Hopper was an amazing blend of fun wit and serious worry. In 2442, Between the transporter room where Wil Ukinix sits, ripped straight from 2401, and sickbay, Hopper learns that her husband Nathan Richards has irumodic syndrome. As always, Keegan's writing wonderfully shows the nuanced character's thoughts and feelings on the whole matter, while she also tries to deal with what is right in front of her. There wasn't a certain part of this sim I could pick out, so you get the lot of it. ((Science Lab, Deck 14 – USS Glacier, en route to the Delta Quadrant - 2442)) Even after all the work she had put in to ensuring this plan would succeed, Robin was still somehow surprised that it had worked. Wil was there, in one piece, pulled from the exact moment in time that she’d calculated… Everyone seemed to be a little baffled by that, Wil not least of all. Even the computer seemed a little nonplussed, as he tried to get it to recognize his reappearance after forty years of recorded death. There was a brief pause, a little tone that indicated the computer was trying to work out how to reconcile the information it had just been provided, and then a chirp. Computer: Identity confirmed. Welcome aboard, Commander Ukinix. Then another tone sounded; A little blurp-y alert. Computer: Voice identification authorisation codes expired. Command codes expired. Bioscans expired. Limited access to ships systems granted for the next twenty-four hours. Please proceed to Starfleet Security and Starfleet Medical for re-authorisation. Ukinix: Oh god, from First Officer on a diplomatic outpost to visitor on a starship. Great. Robin watched as his gaze shifted from the computer terminal to her face. R. Hopper: ::Shrug:: Don’t look at me. I haven’t been a Starfleet Commander in nearly twenty years… In fact, there are only a few people on this ship right now who would have the authority to verify your identity. ::Tersely:: My daughter being one of them. Ukinix: ::Raised eyebrows, slight shock:: Daughter? Keehani: Captain Alexis Hopper, of the USS Resilience. Wil put his fingers on the sides of his temples and squinted his eyes. oO Add that to the pile of explanations then, I guess… Oo There were so many things to explain, so many events to fill him in on, it almost seemed like an impossibility. Not to mention figuring out how and when to break all the bad news to him – and there definitely was a lot of bad news from the past forty years. Ukinix: Then let me speak with Captain-- Hopper, geez that sounds weird when it’s not Robin we’re talking about. And it sounds like I need to see medical and security to get my auths back, pronto. Keehani: Wil Professor Jansen Orrey be sufficient? Wil’s eyes snapped open at the mention of his old shipmate. Jansen had been hit particularly hard by the news of Wil’s death… Robin knew they had served together before, and been close. Putting them back in a room together was sure to be a memorable experience. R. Hopper: I’ll get you some quarters sorted – goodness knows, we have more than enough spare rooms aboard right now… If you need space, fine, but whenever you’re ready to talk – now, in an hour, in a couple of days – I’ll keep myself available. Ukinix: Oh, no, you’re comin’ with me. You brought me here, you don’t get out of this. I need to understand what you’re gonna do with me now that you’ve brought me here… She nodded, a small smile coming to her face. Robin hadn’t wanted to overwhelm him anymore than was necessary – but the fact that he was already willing to hear her out was encouraging. He looked down at the PADD on the floor, picked it up, then shoved it into Robin’s hands. Ukinix: ... and what you plan to do with me now that you have what you wanted. Tucking the outdated slab under her arm, she crossed to the transporter terminal and collected her own PADD. Holding it out to Wil, in exchange for the one he had provided, she explained. R. Hopper: A bit of light reading for you, when you feel up to it. This PADD contains a timeline of… relevant events. Things that have transpired over the past forty years that you ought to know. Some good. Most bad. Ukinix: Okay, thanks... but I still want the most important parts explained to me. And I still need my clearances. If I’m not going to be a Starfleet officer, I’m not going to help. You got your PADD, and now I’m forty years out of my depth. Keehani: Robin, leave the quarters to me. I am a Mother Perennial, I will be able to demand quarters for my cousin, right next to mine. Before anyone could say anything, she spun on her heels, and walked out of the lab, the train of her long shiny dress following behind. Robin felt like she could breathe a little sigh of relief with Keehani out of the room – and if she had something to make her feel useful, then all the better. Ukinix: That’s like looking into a mirror of that parallel universe Empress version of her. R. Hopper: ::Amused huff:: If you think I haven’t made that comparison more than a few times… She turned to look at him, surprised that, even after all this time, she felt comfortable being candid with him. It wasn’t how she’d imagined. He didn’t feel like a ghost out of her past at all. In fact, if anything, she felt a little revitalized in his presence – a bit like her old self again. R. Hopper: Alright, then your next stop is Sickbay. ::Gesturing:: The turbolift is this way… They passed into the hall, the doors sliding open gracefully. She watched, out of the corner of her eye, as he looked at the mundane technology around him with a fascination only an out-of-time Engineer could muster. R. Hopper: I suggest you start in early 2402, as the Hirogen Civil War got into full swing. I’ve left out some of the gory details, but needless to say, your time as Amity’s First Officer might have been a fair bit shorter than mine – but it was a lot sweeter. I’ll need to swing by the bridge on our way… To ask a favour. ((OOC – Within the context of this Act, this is where the Ready Room scene with Robin, Alexis, and Nathan occurs, whilst Wil waits in/by the Turbolift reading his PADD…)) ((A Little Later – Sickbay)) Robin’s breath was caught in her chest. Just a few minutes ago she had felt such relief. She had even begun to feel like herself again, a shred of unforced optimism peeking through the shroud of darkness that always lingered on the periphery. The “family meeting” she had just extricated herself from in the Ready Room had dashed that to pieces. oO Irumodic Syndrome… Oo she clenched her jaw and tensed her face to keep her expression from giving away the bitter frustration she felt inside. She glanced at Wil, fiddling with his old combadge, blissfully unaware of what it really felt like to watch those around you – everyone you cared about – wither and die. Whether at the hands of the Hirogen insurgency, the Lattice Alliance’s planetary bombardments, or just from the cruel unfeeling mercilessness of time. She couldn’t help but envy him a little. How sick was that? To envy a man who had missed out on forty years of history, just because of how miserably hopeless they had been… and continued to be. The door behind them slid open. Robin bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to show how close to losing it she was in front of her stoic daughter. A. Hopper: Response Wil, perhaps instinctively sensing Alexis’ serious nature, snapped to attention before relaxing his stance somewhat as she approached. Ukinix: Captain. Pleasure to meet you-- oh, I can see the resemblance! ::To Robin:: Wow, I can really see it. Proud mum, huh? A. Hopper & R. Hopper: ::Simultaneously:: Don’t. Robin’s eyes shifted to Alexis, meeting her equally-irritated glance, before she sighed and rolled her eyes. ((OOC – I received permission from Alexis’ writer for the above!)) Ukinix: Ooh, awkies. ::changing subject:: So um, I need re-authorisation, because, you know... ::sideeye at Robin:: I’m forty years in the future. A. Hopper: Response Orrey: ::speaking up:: Forty years in the future you still can’t string a sentence together without ruffling a captain. The elder physician stepped forward out of an offset section of the Sickbay. Robin had scarcely had time to say “hi” to him either, she’d been so busy and preoccupied with the temporal transporter. Now, seeing him properly, she could really see just what a toll time had taken on him as well. With no regard for Orrey’s elderly bones, Wil grabbed the old chap and gave him a big squeezing bear hug. Ukinix: Mate you don’t look a day over forty years older than when I saw you yesterday. Orrey: You are a liar and always have been. To Jansen’s credit, the old man hugged his friend back with near-equal fervor. Orrey: Brother, have I missed you. R. Hopper: ::Clearing her throat:: Gentlemen… A. Hopper: Response Breaking from the amicable embrace, Jansen set the tip of his cane on the floor again and relaxed his weight into it, turning his attention away from Wil long enough to take in Robin and her blonde doppleganger (at least, according to Wil’s reaction). Orrey: Alexis. You didn’t come by for tea when you were at Command last don’t think I didn’t know. A. Hopper: Response? The doctor gestured for Wil to take to the biobed as he shuffled around the room, closer to Robin. Orrey: And Robin you still owe me that Okinawan sweet potato coding for replicators at the Academy. ::glancing at Wil:: They work faster but ingredients still should be locally sourced. R. Hopper: Actually, I came prepared, Doctor. She reached into the pocket of her long coat and pulled out a small data module for Orrey, placing it in the old man’s hand. R. Hopper: A properly-curated replicator beni imo – along with fourteen preparations from the local restauranteurs… Though, you know it’s actually an American root vegetable, don’t you, Jansen? She was sure he knew. Of all the old folks from Amity, the Professor was one of the few who Robin had maintained semi-regular communication with. Granted, they typically came in the form of these ‘recipe challenges’, but it was still good to have someone yank her out of her proverbial shell now and then. At least her counselor seemed to think so. R. Hopper: ::Clearing her throat:: Wil is here for his annual physical. Forty years worth of them. Given his temporal displacement, you can probably forego the thirty-or-so prostate exams he’s owed. Ukinix: Response. Orrey pressed the panel on the wall and all eyes shifted to the display as it shone into existence – a holographic display providing a breakdown of Wil’s key health metrics, including the genetic readouts from the temporal transporter’s signal buffer. Everything looked alright. Orrey: Well you didn’t reverse anything on the trip here..that’s good..Still going to look deeper. R. Hopper: Were you concerned a pregnant salamander would pop out onto the transporter pad, Doctor? We were very careful – and I’ll add that Commander Moonsong-Orrey, Lieutenant Monroe, and Sam Richards were all integral to successfully carrying out the transport. She eyed Jansen, as well as Alexis briefly. Despite her misgivings about Starfleet and the way it seemed to inevitably break everyone who wore the uniform, she couldn’t deny that it also had a proven track record of producing capable officers – nor could she pretend that seeing her daughter in Command Red didn’t elicit some degree of pride in her. She remained convinced that Alexis was following this path for the wrong reasons, and that it would eventually hurt her daughter in the same way it had hurt her, but Captaincy did suit her. oO I wonder if she’s inherited irumodic syndrome…? Oo The thought intruded on Robin’s thoughts uninvited, and she immediately felt her throat tighten with anxiety. When she and Nathan had learned they were having a child, she had been in such a tizzy. They had run all sorts of common tests, and she’d been oh-so-careful to ensure that Alexis wouldn’t carry her own prothrombin gene mutation that led to her blood-clotting disorder and her lost limb… The thought of screening for something as rare as irumodic had never occurred to them and now that Alexis was an adult, if she did carry the gene, there was nothing that could be done about it. Fortunately, the only ‘mind-reader’ in the room was Wil, and he was more of a ‘vibe-reader’ than a true telepath… and the vibes were always bad these days. Anyways, the conversation continued. A. Hopper/Orrey/Ukinix: Response R. Hopper: We detected no cellular degradation in the transporter bay – and we managed to contain and disperse the chroniton particulates and tachyon radiation safely. Jansen, are there any other health concerns we should be worried about…? She shifted, a little nervously, finding it hard not to suddenly push this all aside like it didn’t matter and start picking the Doctor’s brain about Peridaxon treatments and the project health outcomes for irumodic. oO God, of all the times to tell me, Nathan… Oo A. Hopper/Orrey/Ukinix: Response R. Hopper: So, we can confirm that this is the same Wil that was alive in 2401 and, given that he was in good standing with Starfleet Command on the date of his apparent death, there’s no reason he shouldn’t be eligible for reinstatement… At least, provisional reinstatement while he gets ‘caught up’. ::To Alexis:: Commander Hopper – what is your assessment? If Alexis was as stalwart a commanding officer as she seemed, then Robin thought she’d at least give Wil a fair shake. A. Hopper/Orrey/Ukinix: Response TBC == Dr. Robin Hopper (Retired Commander) Classified Temporal Research Lead, Daystrom Institute Character Wiki Page V239806K11

It has been a fateful start to our misson thus far. Amity's First Officer @Wil Ukinix tragically died at the hands of a Hirogen Alpha named Ravarj--and his second cousin Keehani isn't taking the development well. Even though I got impatient and read through the whole of this sim while filling out tags, the little tweaks that were made between then and the time this sim hit my inbox are irreplacable. It's a captivating, heartbreaking scene that hits all the right places, and is a prime example of the fantastic writing abilities of @Wil Ukinix! I can't wait to see what happens with Keehani next. ((Flashback – Meeting Room, Copernicus Level 13, Amity Outpost, Stardate 240111.23)) Keehani was past being disturbed about sensing that Wil was in the room with her. The death echoes were just that – echoes. Her cousin was gone. She knew it. *He was not there*. But now, as her last “official” act on Amity, the exhausted and sleep deprived Betazoid wanted answers. Keehani: Then you tell me how it was that a vessel was able to decloak right next to the Independence without being detected! Keehani, with her hands flat on the table, stared directly at the human-Klingon hybrid. She was met with an equally fierce stance back. Iko: What the #$*@ do you want me to say?! Robin, her broken arm in a gel cast, wanted to reach out to Keehani – and to Bec. They were both so distraught and Robin... Robin just felt numb. Hopper: Keehani, we had no idea that the Hirogen were in possession of cloaking technology. The other Alphas were caught just as off-guard as we were... Ravarj must have traded for the technology or-- The Envoy dropped her head, letting her hair fall to her sides and cover her face. Keehani: No, because Starfleet didn’t do their job. And now the First Officer is dead. She looked up again. Keehani: ::Pointing finger:: All because of your incompetence! ::To Hopper:: And I can’t believe you would even *think* to leave Wil behind. Iko: SHUT UP! Hopper: ::Sternly:: Bec. ::A breath, then turning to Keehani:: There was a contingency plan in place. Wil knew his job and I knew mine. If things went south, my priority was evacuating... ::Hesitating:: Was evacuating you. He was to stay behind and take command. Knowing that it had been the “proper” thing to do didn’t make Robin anymore convinced that it was the “right” thing to do – and Keehani’s expression only affirmed her self-doubt. Hopper: The point is, we shouldn’t be trying to assign-- Keehani: I’ve requested a transfer to Paris. I’m leaving Amity. Do you really think I could stay here? I’ve lost confidence in Rivi, in Starfleet, ::side eye to Bec:: in the Chief of Security and Tactical on account of, oh, I don’t know, ineptness that got my cousin killed! Iko: Yeah, well the FDC does this stupid thing of ::high pitched, mocking tone:: “Oh, we’re better than Starfleet, we don’t need security officers on our away missions”---If you had let me JUST #%*^@&$ BE THERE--- Hopper: ::Losing her cool:: Then you would be dead too, Bec. We would have lost you both. Things are bad – we need you here right now. ::To Keehani:: We need you too. Please, both of you, just stop-- Iko: You had it “ALL HANDLED!” It was all going to be “JUST FINE!”. But now--- Bec couldn’t bring herself to say it. In any form. Keehani stood straight, and with a look of absolute contempt, screwed up her nose and exhaled through her nostrils, glancing between them both. Keehani: ::through gritted teeth:: May the Four guide you both. Because someone needs to. With that, she turned on her heel, angrily clip-clopping her way out of the meeting room. Bec stared right at Keehani as she left. Iko: ::quietly:: %^$@%. Watching her leave, Robin was surprised at how little sadness she felt. It was like the part of her that would feel grief was broken or just missing. Hopper: ::Trying to convince herself:: She... She just needs time. We all just need a little... A little time. ((Terminal A, a few minutes later)) With tears visibly streaming down her face, Keehani turned over her shoulder as she made her way towards the gate that would take her back to Earth, via a QSD ship – a “Quesadilla” ship as her cousin colloquially liked to call it, that a death echo chose to remind her and she chose to ignore. She took one last glance at Amity. The Outpost had become her home. She would miss its cosmopolitan feel, its upmarket facilities, and its beautiful park. But the death of Wil, and the strategic failure of the attempted treaty with the Hirogen was a disaster that she worried she’d never be able to heal from. There was no containing her anger, nor her sadness. She knew they were a dangerous cocktail. It was a sign to her from the Four. Time to move on. She’d requested a transfer, and the only position available was a diplomatic communications review role in Paris on Earth. Not ideal, but not necessarily permanent. With patience, she would diligently perform her duties, waiting for the next opportunity, on her path to one day become an ambassador in her own right. And now she had new motivation – to be more cautious, and not to repeat Rivi’s mistake of being too conciliatory. oO Keehani... don’t leave... Oo She squinted her eyes shut, shaking the death-echoed voice of Wil out of her head, as she walked through the gate. ((Room 65-235, SS Gecko, Cool down phase – 3 weeks later)) Rather than allow herself to be buried in grief, and allow death echoes to traumatise her, Amity’s now former Chief of Staff buried herself in PADDwork. She had requested Paris send her things to do, and they had complied. She’d also spent many of her hours writing up her final Amity report, expressing her view of the failures of Ambassador Vataix and Starfleet that had led to Wil’s death. Part of her mind kept telling her she was externalising. But she pushed that down... Sitting on her bed with PADD in one hand and a stylus pressed against her bottom lip, she was interrupted when the console in her room informed her of an incoming personal message. Whoever had sent it, it would have taken days, if not a week, to get to her. She hopped off the bed, placing the PADD and stylus carefully on the sheet, then sat at the console, pressing to accept the message. On the screen was the forlorn face of Son Astrad Ukinix, grandmother’s brother and Wil’s grandfather. The friendly, older man who now helped her Matriarch grandmother Vaxa with the administrative affairs of the Ninth House looked far from the young man in his twenties who’d had affairs with two Matriarchs from other houses. The recording started playing. Astrad: // Keehani. Um... I’ve been searching for the words... it’s your grandmother. ::Tears welling:: Her condition, it’s worsened. She didn’t take the news of Wil’s... ::swallowing:: passing well. // Keehani: ::Hand over mouth:: Oh, no. Astrad: // She’s become paranoid that the family’s going to fall apart again. It’s sent her into a spiral, and I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but with her neural condition, she may not recover. The doctors think she may only have a few months left. // Keehani: ::crying:: Oh, by the Four, no. Astrad: // I’m letting you know this now so you can make arrangements to transfer to Betazed once you arrive on Earth. Hayley, Anacem, the whole family from Earth are already on their way here-- // Keehani watched as Astrad covered his mouth, trying not to cry. If ever there was an example of how Earth’s culture had unnecessarily taught the Betazoid man of supressing his emotions, it was on display on the screen in front of her. Astrad: // Stay strong, Keehani. I know you always are. // The transmission ended. In a fit of rage, she moved towards the bed, picked up her PADD, and flung it at the nearby wall as hard as she could. She placed one hand on her forehead, the other on her hip, and sobbed loudly. That’s when she felt Wil’s presence again. As if he was in the room, telling her he understood, and that it would all be okay. But it wasn’t Wil. It was yet another insufferable death echo. Keehani: ::Screaming, crying:: GO AWAAAAAAAAAAAY! The Envoy collapsed onto the bed in the foetal position, arms wrapped around herself. ((End Flashback)) ========================================================== Envoy Keehani Ukinix Chief of Staff, Amity Outpost Federation Diplomatic Corps, United Federation of Planets V239511WU0 With very special guests Lt. Cmdr Robin Hopper (she/they) Chief Science Officer & Second Officer, Amity Outpost Character Wiki Page V239806K11 & Lt. Cmdr Rebecca Iko Chief of Sec/Tac Amity Outpost A239810RI3

"If you make me accidentally step on Legos..."

Did I reread this like five times and then wait all day before getting to my computer to put this on the appreciations thread? Perhaps. I was looking forward to Annamae's reaction to the end of my sim and at the very, very least I am not disappointed in the sheer chaos she has once again brought to the stage. Cue the adventure's of the Kitty Hawk's Science Crewman and her reaction to the aftermath of her girlfriend's adventures: ((Terminal A - New Year’s Day 2401 - 06:31 hours)) Annamae, still awake from the muted and polite New Year’s celebrations on board Ten Forward on the USS Kitty Hawk, ambled along Terminal A. Some people, both Starfleet and civilian, were just starting their shift in the terminal. Some people were waiting for a QSD ship that was arriving that morning. The crewman wore her replicated novelty Halloween headband with pride. Was it appropriate to wear them for New Year’s Eve? Absolutely not. But that was the point. oO Contrarian for the sake of being contrarian? Tick. Oo As she made her way up the stairs towards the train station platform, she felt her stomach rumble. It was time for breakfast. ((Table 6, Brew Continuum - 06:49 hours)) Barberra: I’ll have a... wait- Touching her nose, Annamae was still deciding between several options for breakfast. The Andorian waiter was becoming impatient. Waiter: Ma’am, I have three tables of New Year’s revellers waiting, maybe I can take their order first. Annamae looked up to observe one of the tables. They were wearing beach gear, and laughing. One of them was slapping their hand on the table. Barberra: No, it’s okay... they’ll look like they’ll take a while anyway. I’m doing you a favour. Waiter: ::Sarcastically:: Oh, yes. The morning of Terran New Year is turning out to be a *great* shift to have chosen. Just tell me what you want. Barberra: Okay! Geez! The nachos. Waiter: Nachos. For breakfast. Barberra: What. I love guacamole. In fact, scratch that – I just want a bowl of guacamole. Waiter: We don’t *offer* just a bowl of guacamole. Barberra: Why not? ::Shrug:: I’m a customer, right? ::Pointing at menu:: It says right here. “Extra Guacamole.” I’ll just have that. Waiter: No, that’s extra Guacamole *with* an order of nachos. You can’t order extra guacamole by itself. Barberra: Oh. Okay then. Waiter: ::Relieved Sigh: Okay. Barberra: ::Looking at menuPADD:: I’ll order the nachos with two extra serves of guacamole. Waiter: ::Tapping on order PADD:: Got it. Barberra: Without the nachos. The waiter’s antennae twirled as she once again regarded Annamae with slight contempt. Waiter: You have to have the nachos. Barberra: Just hold them. Waiter: No, I just said- Barberra: ::Deadpan:: Just don’t bring them out. How hard can it be. After an exasperated sigh, the waiter gave Annamae a congenial smile. Waiter: What a waste of credits. Happy Terran new year. She grabbed the menuPADD from Annamae’s hands, then turned back towards the counter area. Barberra: And put that on the Starfleet attaché account! Annamae didn’t know if that would still work, given her Starfleet liaison to the FDC role was long suspended while she was temporarily stationed on the Kitty Hawk... ((Bench, Merchant District – 09:35 hours)) The problem with working different shifts on the Kitty Hawk was that Annamae’s body couldn’t work out whether she was wired or tired. The time would come when she would crash in a heap, having worked half of Gamma shift, and then joined the countdown to midnight in Ten Forward. The artificial sunlight in the Habitat Ring made that adjustment even harder. It felt nice, and warm, and made the caramel chilli milkshake she was sipping even tastier for some reason. Annamae knew that Bec was in her apartment, the ship’s computer had told her so. She also knew that her girlfriend was probably recovering from a large night, having been told about their New Year’s celebrations in the Sub-tropical biome. Eventually she would let herself into Bec’s apartment to sleep when her body told her she was officially ready, then look forward to doing something with her likely hungover girlfriend that afternoon. But before then, there was someone she wanted to say “hello” to... And finally she saw the person walking toward the shop they owned. Annamae stood up from the bench, and made her way towards them. Barberra: You’re 5 minutes late. The Ferengi woman, owner of the “Backspace” fortune teller shop, slowly turned to face Annamae. Ninzo: ::demanding:: Who are you to tell me I’m late! Barberra: I’m your tenant, antique Terran satellite dish ears! Ninzo: ::Lifting finger:: You’re not, you sublet that room child, now I have to put up with C’lem Phan’ta’go continually asking if I can hear him! ::Pointing at ears:: Doesn’t he not know I’m Ferengi? The woman walked to the door of her shop, waving her hand over a scanner to open it. The door slid open with a “hiss”, allowing the pair to walk inside. ((Inside, Backspace Fortune Teller)) Barberra: I’ve come to renegotiate the rental amount. My profit from his subletting is not satisfactory. Ninzo: I’m not changing the rental amount. WE HAD AN AGREEMENT, CHILD! WHY ARE YOU WEARING THAT HEADBAND! Barberra: I’M NOT YOUR CHILD, YOU OLD PSEUDO SCIENCE CON ARTIST, I’M YOUR TENANT! Ninzo: NOT AT THE MOMENT YOU’RE NOT, YOU’RE ON THAT USS CATTY BIRD OR WHATEVER IT’S CALLED! Barberra: I’M STILL TECHNICALLY - ::normal tone:: ooh, I like “Catty Bird” - ::resuming argument:: I’M STILL TECHNICALLY YOUR TENANT BUT I’M SUBLETTING TO CREWMAN PHAN’TA’GO SO IT’S STILL VALID FOR ME TO ASK FOR A REDUCTION IN THE RENT! Annamae took a long sip from her milkshake, while eyeing her landlord. Ninzo: ARE YOU TRYING TO INTIMIDATE ME?! RULE OF ACQUISITION SIXTEEN. “A DEAL IS A DEAL!” WHEN YOU COME BACK FROM YOUR HIGH AND MIGHTY EXPLORATION OF THE DELTA QUADRANT TO COME AND LIVE HERE AGAIN, WE CAN RENEGOTIATE. UNTIL THEN, LET ME READ YOUR PALM! The elder Ferengi woman reached out to grab Annamae’s hand, but the crewman smacked it away. Barberra: NO! RULE OF ACQUISITION SEVENTY-FIVE. “HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS, BUT THE STARS ARE MADE OF LATINUM”. REDUCE MY RENT YOU OLD RUSTY BAT’LETH! Ninzo: RULE OF ACQUISITION TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN. “YOU CAN’T FREE A FISH FROM WATER!” Annamae furrowed her brow for a moment, before continuing the shouting match that they both loved and missed. Barberra: HOW DOES THAT RULE EVEN APPLY TO THESE NEGOTIATIONS?! Ninzo: WHO SAID WE WERE NEGOTIATING! Suddenly a voice came over speakers in the shop, quietly echoed by the source of the comms from the rented room that was a level above. Phan’ta’go: =/\= Hello, this is C’lem Phan’ta’go, can you hear me? You’re both talking at a level of around 10, the feeling here is that you need to bring it down to a 6, yeah? =/\= The two women looked towards the staircase. Ninzo/Barberra: ::simultaneously:: SHUT UP, PHAN’TA’GO! ((Iko Apartment, Marrakech District – 10:28 hours)) It had finally happened. Annamae could hardly keep her eyes open. She sat on the edge of Bec’s bed, tiredly taking off her Starfleet issue boots. While listening to Bec snoring. Very loudly. Barberra: Bec? No answer. No movement. At all. With a tired sigh, the crewman took off her combadge and threw it into her left boot, before laying down on the bed next to Bec... She listened to her girlfriend snore, as she fell asleep, on top of the sheets - still in her blue Science uniform. ((Annamae’s dreamscape)) Clowns. Clowns everywhere. She was surrounded by them. The carnival, the very same carnival that she, Kivik and tr'Khev had experienced when encountering the space borne goo that had traces of 8472 DNA, was on fire. People were screaming and running away. But the clowns, with their red eyes and ocular implants, who were slowly stepping towards her, all spoke in unison. Clowns: We are the clowns. We will add observations about your biological and technological distinctiveness to our long list of bad jokes, which will service us at kid’s parties. You will be humiliated. Barberra: Woah, creepy. I know I should be scared? But... this is kinda awesome. Suddenly, one of the clowns groaned, very loudly... right as the ground seemed to shift underneath her- ((16:23 — Iko Apartment, Marrakech district, Habitat Ring)) The crewman sat *bolt upright* in bed, sweating slightly from her vivid nightmare. Barberra: ::Quiet, awed tone:: Awesome... Slightly disappointed that the dream wasn’t real, she turned to see Bec Iko curling herself up in the sheets of the bed. Barberra: You’re hungover. Bec seemed to curl up under the covers even more. Iko: No I'm not. Annamae sniffed the air above Bec, Barberra: Oh yeah, you smell like you just drunk a keg of bloodwine. Definitely hungover. Iko: I'm not! Bec’s slid her leg out from under the sheets, to playfully kick Annamae. That was when Annamae noticed new ink on Bec’s ankle, her skin red underneath. Barberra: Woah. Cool. What is that? “One cup self-raising flour, 2 tablespoons cocoa powder, one tablespoon... ::screwing up nose:: antimatter waste?” Iko: Huh? Bec’s head came out from somewhere under the covers, to look at her own leg. There was a pause from Bec for a moment as she observed the new tattoo. Realising that Bec seemed to be surprised by it, Annamae let a wicked grin appear on her face. Iko: #$%@. And like a turtle, Bec withdrew under the sheets again. Annamae preened her hair while she spoke. Barberra: You used my cake recipe?! Annamae *jumped* on top of Bec, wrapping her arms around... whatever body parts were under the sheets and blankets. Barberra: Well now we can both be ready for a first contact! ((Flashback – “The Tusk” tattoo shop – Merchant District, Amity Outpost, Stardate 239908.01)) Annamae showed off her brand-new tattoo on her ankle. Barberra: It’s a pancake recipe. You never know when you might need it. Iovianus: I see… Iko: ::to Iovanius:: Agreed. The doubt in the security officers was obvious. She moved to justify her new ink. Barberra: Okay, but consider this. Let’s say, it’s a first contact situation. And you give them access to the Starfleet cultural database. But that doesn’t satisfy them, the new species want more. I just look down on my leg, whip up some pancakes, and ::clicking fingers:: bingo, new Federation member candidate. Iko: Orrr you could just remember the pancake recipe... ((End Flashback)) Barberra: ::Delighted tone:: Orrr, you could just remember *my* cake recipe? Ah ha, see I was right! Where are you under there?! It didn’t matter where she was, Annamae decided to playfully pin her half-Klingon girlfriend down on the bed for as long as she could! [End scene for Annamae] ========================================== Crewman Second Class Annamae Barberra Science Specialist USS Kitty Hawk V239511WU0

@Wil Ukinix is at it again with the Ukinix cousins' humourous dynamic. Love seeing these two interact. There was no one point in this sim that doesn't deserve a position on the appreciations thread.

"We're coming at you live from Camp Amity, somewhere in the Delta Quadrant, your home for the next six weeks it takes to get there. The officers sitting around you will be your roommates, your competition, and maybe even your friends. To survive, you'll have to battle space cows, Trenvonns, temporal reflections and each other! Who will crumble under the pressure? Find out here right now..." - Your host, Bec Iko.

Another fantastic sim by @Robin Hopper from the start, too good to not include here. I wonder if @Nathan Richards feels the same way...

"Relax! I'm only play-fighting!"

Woo! Well done mate!

Welcome everybody!

Well done everybody!! ❤️

Bec opted for dress whites. After making some alterations to make it more comfy. And she tried doing her hair... It didn't behave.

I'll never forget the way her dress felt in my hands that day. Or any day. Granted, It wasn’t just my hands. You hug with more than just hands, obviously. She was such a beautiful person. She had the most beautiful handwriting, but was the most horrible artist, and when we first met she wanted to kill me. Kind of. She was a new XB. Scared. So very scared. And we went through the standard alphabet and linked each letter to a number. "Seven of Eighteen, Primary Adjunct of Trimatrix 5" became Grace. Oh she was such a sweetheart. We'd meet after school at the station, and this one time we walked the tracks till it got dark and had to have a shuttle come after us. We'd just been walking, talking, holding hands. Her hand was always cold. The other one was fine but this one had had stuff done to it. Cold and smooth. I never gave her shoulder hugs. She was too tall. We opted for side hugs around the waist. Those were really close too. And there was the time she decided to do art over the other graffiti at the station. "Beccy + Grace" enclosed in a lopsided heart and was like "Beccy Beccy look! I can do art!" She's always called me Beccy. I don't really know why. It happened one day, made me smike uncontrollably, and it stuck. And the time I snuck her in the one time my mother was out and we had the night of our lives for our 5th anniversary of dating. The exact things that happened that night I'd forgotten about the next morning. Too busy with a massive headache. Someone'd swapped out the synthesol. But I do remember having really annoyed siblings for a week too. And she was also kinda annoyed about the massive bite on her cheek… Oops. And the time I was admitted to medical after trying to protect her and lying on a biobed next to her and we just started laughing about the whole situation we were in. And when I ran away from home with her once, and then we got stuck in the rain that night and we ended up sleeping at our train station. And the time I had to carry her to her alcove because she was too tired to get there herself. She had such beautiful eyes. One was green, and one was the cyan color of starfleet regulation implants, and we would always joke that she could see my "extra beauty" with that one. And her hair, her hair was black and frizzy, but I learnt to plat it really well and then she'd wear braids all the time. I remember exactly how that felt too. How poofy it looked and how much hair was actually there. And the little round borg implant around her left eye that I would always trace with my hand, always followed by a kiss. And the time we went to this traditional earth ball thing and she wore the most beautiful black dress and beautiful eyeshadow and makeup which I had no idea she could even do while I showed up in a black leather jacket and black jeans with a white tee. But my favourite moments were when we'd be sitting at the train station and I'd rest my head on her shoulder, or she'd rest her head on mine and we'd watch the sun set and one of us would posdibly fall asleep. And the time we had the biggest hug, and I snuggled my head into her neck. And then I went to leave but I came back and held her hands, one cold, one warm and we just stood there for ages not wanting to let go. And I missed my ride to the academy and had to take the next one which would come the next day. That was the last time I saw her. She said she'd be going off to the Borg Reclamation Project. Helping people like I helped her. Sometimes I dream that she comes all the way out here just to sit with me. What if Fuzzy braided hair and an eye implant to be rested on my shoulder again… I loved her so much And I love her still. Except I don't know how to reach her or how to even tell her. I miss you Grace

@Wil Ukinix Gave us one of the perfect Wil & Kehanni moments. I was pointing out a bit I loved, then another bit I loved, then realised the whole thing was great. ((XO’s Office, Level 1, Copernicus Center)) After several months, the practice of throwing countless PADDs into the replicator had become more than just a therapeutic activity. It had become more than just an ad-hoc sport. It was now an *art-form*. Ukinix: Aaaaaaaannnnddd….. ::exhale:: The PADD was in Wil’s right hand. With death defying speed, he wrapped his right arm around his back, and then with a deft touch “frisbeed” the PADD from his left side, with his right hand, towards the replicator. Ukinix: ::quickly:: Recycle! Streaks of glistening light filled the replicator’s bay. They were gleefully waiting to recycle whatever landed in it. This time, it was a spinning PADD, and it got it all. Right in the middle. Ukinix: ::Fist pump:: Yyyyes! Rather pleased with himself, Wil lifted his hands in the air to celebrate his accomplishment, just as the door chime rang. Ukinix: ::Cheerily:: Come in! The door slid open, and with it came a wall of anger that filled Wil’s empathic senses like *ten* spinning PADDs making their way into a replicator. Keehani: ::Flatly:: Come with me, I need your help. Wil turned around to look at his second cousin, her hair up in a pony tail. Her face was pale, her jaw was clenched, and her black eyes were piercing. His second cousin was furious for some reason. Wil observed her for a moment. The last thing he wanted was to get involved in Keehani berating something or someone, so he instead reached over to his desk and picked up the stack of PADDs that were waiting to be artfully recycled. Ukinix: Sorry Keehani, would love to, but I have a stack of PADDwork to do. See? Keehani: ::Flatly:: I need you to profusely curse at someone for me. Ukinix: ::Quickly putting PADDs back on desk with a smile, excited tone:: Righto, lead the way! ((Glommer & Beagle – A few minutes later)) When they entered the pub, Wil smacked his hands together in delight. Ukinix: Cursing *and* beers? Keehani, you’ve made my day. Keehani ignored her cousin’s sudden joy and exhaustive cheek, and instead looked around at the various tables that were packed with patrons. It was like she was using her psionic senses to track down her prey. Keehani: Where is he… Ukinix: Where’s who? You know, in the time it’s taken to get up here while you were fuming you could have spent that energy explaining to me what we’re doing here- Keehani: There. There he is, by the Four. Wil followed after Keehani when she suddenly started clip-clopping in her shoes over towards a table. Over Keehani’s shoulder he saw the back of a red-haired woman… Ukinix: Evelyn! G’day! McLaren: Response … and after a few more steps his view of the table was unobstructed. Ukinix: Arty! Hey, how are ya! Summerside: Response Keehani by that stage had stood at the end of the table, her arms crossed, staring at Arthur. Undeterred, Wil ignored his second cousin and kept smiling. Ukinix: ::To Arty:: Oh mate, ::quick click of fingers:: I promised you a bourbon. ::Turning to bartender:: Hey, can we get two bourbons over here? On my account? Bartender: Coming right up, Commander! When the first Officer turned back to look at the others, all he could see were a pair of black Betazoid eyes that ripped through to his soul like a subspace tear. Initially scared out of his pants, he eventually shrugged innocently. Ukinix: ::Innocent tone:: What. Wait. Is this who you wanted me to swear at? ::To Arty, playful tone:: Hey ya #@#%#@ @$@@, you @#$@# want a @#$@$ bourbon? ‘Cos I sure as #@$@ do. ::Chuckle:: Ahhh… ::blink of eyes, looking at Keehani:: Why are we swearing at Arty? Did he write a bad article? Because let’s be honest, ::slight chuckle:: the expo and the rally didn’t exactly go smoothly. Keehani turned back to give Arthur the same stare she had just given Wil. Keehani: It depends if you consider yourself the First Officer of a paramilitary force. Or if you’re OK with private conversations being recorded from a distance. Ukinix: ::Furrowed eyebrow:: “Paramilitary”? Summerside: Response Keehani pressed a single finger down on the datapad that Arthur was holding, until the datapad slowly fell flat on the table with a “thunk”. On it was the Briori Sun logo, with the headline “The Blinding Light of Friendship”. Keehani: ::Angry tone, pointing at Arthur:: It’s got *your* name on it, Arthur. Yours! ::Finger on chest:: And mine. ::Finger pointed towards door:: And Rivi’s. *And*, it’s smeared Jansen Orrey, a *fine* diplomat and former Starfleet Officer, and taken him completely out of context. Is *this* how you want cooperation with us, hmm? ::shaking head:: Do you *really* expect the Diplomatic Corp to give you access to Ambassador Niarivi Vataix in the future after ::pressing finger on datapad:: *this*? The FNS at least understand the meaning of the word “ethics”. By the Four, when Paris sees this article, they’ll be strapping a Quantum Slip Drive to the Eiffel tower to get here as fast as they can. And not to “erase history”, Arthur, because our member worlds have histories they’d rather forget but they don’t, they wear it. “Ugly colours,” huh? ::pressing finger into table:: Well that’s better than black, Arthur, because that’s the only colour you’ll be getting from us from now on! Do you understand that? You…selfish… half-witted… messy-thinking, tribble farmer! Wil, curse at him! Wil’s jaw had already dropped in shock. A second later he realised that the bartender was standing next to him, also frozen in shock, with one clear glass of brown liquid in each of his hands. Bartender: ::meekly:: Uhh…two bourbons? There was a momentary pause before Wil grabbed one of the glasses and tipped its contents down his throat. After a small cough, he grabbed the second glass and downed that one too. Ukinix: ::To bartender, strained tone:: Two more. Summerside/McLaren: Responses Keehani: ::To Arthur:: And to think I got you into the new year’s eve party. Ukinix: ::clears throat:: If you’ll excuse me, I’m needed literally anywhere else- Without taking her angry black eyes off of Arthur, Keehani reach her hand out and forcefully squeezed Wil’s forearm, to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. Summerside/McLaren: Responses Tags/TBC!

Welcome new little ensigns!!