Kali Nicholotti

Welcome aboard!

Welcome to the 118 Fleet (family!) =)

Welcome (and welcome back)!

((Starbase 118 - Deck 775)) ::It was late when Kaedyn Zehn reluctantly left his office and returned to his empty quarters. With Eliaan away again on the Victory, he felt acutely lonely. That his partner could frequently be called away for duty was something Kaedyn had accepted and had not thought much about before he was joined but he was more aware of Eliaan’s absence now. In a cruel irony, now that he had the memories of all those other people swimming around in his head he felt more alone than when he was just one person and one set of memories.:: ::He stood in the middle of their quarters in the dark, not sure what to do next. He felt himself pulling in two directions: his life with Eliaan, even if it was starting to feel unfulfilling, was here on Starbase 118 but his previous host’s son was being taken by his grandmother to Trill.:: ::With Eliaan gone, he needed someone to talk to about all this but as he thought of it, he realised that Kaedyn hadn’t had much of a life prior to Joining. His own career had become mostly following Eliaan from one posting to another and somehow he had never been able to develop friendships. He thought of the new Counsellor but he knew she was on the Victory; then there was Jonesy but thought it couldn’t be someone who had been part of Jilenna’s life.:: ::Then, from deep within his subconscious, the answer came to him.The most appropriate person to speak to was within himself. While the big personalities of Leora and Zhima and the more recent hosts Reigan and Jilenna loomed heavily in his mind, there was also the quiet, kind, nurturing voice of Zehn’s fourth host Calla.:: ::The station’s caretaker, Jinto, had suggested he undertake a zhian'tara ceremony to meet all his hosts. Kaedyn had balked at that suggestion, worried that he would be even more overwhelmed by them all in person. But there was another way, the Trill Rite of Emergence, which would allow him to speak to one of his former hosts.:: ::Not knowing if it would even work, he looked up the Rite on the Trill database and replicated the necessary equipment. Having struggled so much to find some outlet for all his feelings, he was excited to now have a plan of action and quickly set up the ritual in the bedroom.:: ::Staring into the mirror, he began chanting the ancient Trill words that would allow his past host to reveal herself to him. He could feel himself shake with nerves. What if she didn’t think he was good enough to carry her Symbiont and her memories? How could he, emotional wreck that he was, ever live up to the proud lineage of Zehn? Still, he continued to chant the words that would bring her forth.:: ::In the mirror, his reflection rippled and was replaced with the image of a woman. It was amazing how different the many hosts of Zehn looked, despite being more or less parts of the same person. Calla’s skin was pale so that her Trill spots stood out more than his; her auburn hair was worn loose and sat on her shoulders. He noted that they shared a similar colour of green eyes.:: (Calla) Zehn: Kaedyn, it's lovely to meet you ::There was a warm familiarity in her face, despite him having never met her before. All the apprehension he felt at conducting the ritual and asking for help melted away with her warm, accepting smile. Her voice was lower than he had imagined it to be and she seemed to know how to use it in such a manner that it sounded as if she were singing rather than talking.:: (Kaedyn) Zehn: Hello Calla (Calla) Zehn: Well, you’ve not been having a great time of it recently. Have you? ::He would have laughed, if he had thought the expression of emotion wouldn’t lead him to tears. :: (Kaedyn) Zehn: No, not really. (Calla) Zehn: I’m glad you called on me for help. ::Turning from the mirror, he was aware of Calla standing beside him although he knew she was just an image created by his mind and the powerful effects of the Trill mud that bubbled in the urn in front of him. He walked out of the bedroom and into the living area and she followed him.:: (Calla) Zehn: The last time I was on a Starfleet vessel, the quarters were much smaller. ::Never great at small-talk when not directed at patients, Kaedyn found it even harder to with this person who was part of him. Acknowledging the awkwardness, he wondered whether that contributed to his inability to make new friends and forced himself to take part in the exchange.:: (Kaedyn) Zehn: Yes, the quarters here are much larger than normal. This is a huge station; everything is on a larger scale it seems. ::The absurdity of the situation, of standing in a room talking to a construct of his mind and the memories held in Zehn, suddenly occurred to him and an involuntary grin crossed his face.:: (Calla) Zehn: What is it? (Kaedyn) Zehn: You’re a psychologist… don’t you think this is a crazy situation? ::She threw her head back and laughed before sitting down on one of the two sofas in the living area.:: (Calla) Zehn: Crazy isn’t a word I would normally use, its frowned upon in my line of work, but I will agree this is an unusual situation. It can help though. ::He sat down across from her, the eerie feeling of speaking to a figment of his mind fading as he spoke to her.:: (Kaedyn) Zehn: Have you done this yourself? (Calla) Zehn: No, but Jilenna used the Rite of Emergence to call me forth twice. She went through a particularly bad time after her husband died and I would like to think I was able to help her out. ::In the back of his mind, he knew that. It was a strange thing to discuss the memories he carried with someone who had taken part in them. He smiled and nodded slowly, remembering the conversations between Jilenna and Calla.:: (Kaedyn) Zehn: You must get tired of only being called upon when one of us has a problem. (Calla) Zehn: Kaedyn, I am always a part of you, just as I was a part of Jilenna. If you ever need me then you just need to look inward. If you are finding that too difficult for whatever reason, you can perform the Rite and speak to me directly. Just think of me as the family therapist, always on call. ::He smiled and then remained quiet for a long time. Calla made no sign of impatience or irritation but instead sat watching him with a calm, almost neutral, look on her face. She had been, he remembered, a very successful psychologist and had seen patients almost until the day she died.:: (Kaedyn) Zehn: Its Janel… ::She nodded slowly, leaning back into the chair and interlocking her fingers. He had caught himself sitting in a similar position recently and smiled as he realised where it had come from.:: (Calla) Zehn: Jilenna’s Janel or third host Janel? (Kaedyn) Zehn: The baby (Calla) Zehn: Good, I love Janel as much as all the other hosts but can be difficult to deal with. At my zhian'tara he actually fell out with me and refused to speak to me. My poor brother had to carry his memories for two days before he finally let up and spoke to me again. I have no idea why Jilenna would want to name her son after him! ::Kaedyn laughed and could feel himself relax into the conversation. It was, he thought, like speaking to a beloved parent or a close sibling and he realised why Jilenna had taken such comfort from it.:: (Kaedyn) Zehn: Something for me to look forward to then. (Calla) Zehn: Indeed. Now, why don’t you explain to me what the problem with Janel is? ::He told her about his post-Joining experience, about how he had been determined to return to the station and make sure Janel was okay following his mother’s death and how Mezan was now planning to return to Trill with Janel. He talked about how he felt torn between the two aspects of his life and how he was terrified that he was going to mess everything up.:: (Calla) Zehn: It is very common to experience strong attachments to the families and partners of previous hosts, as I am sure you have been told. These attachments are stronger again with regard to your immediate predecessor and when there are children involved it can be virtually impossible to separate your feelings. (Kaedyn) Zehn: I guess other hosts are trained to deal with this. This is why people like me aren’t supposed to get symbionts. ::She shook her head, her auburn hair flowing over her shoulders as she moved.:: (Calla) Zehn: Your situation is rare but I don’t think there is enough training in the world to prepare you for how overwhelmed any of us feel when we are given the memories of people who have recently died. You can’t blame yourself for finding it difficult. I found it difficult, we all did. ::It was comforting to hear. He hadn’t really realised that he was blaming himself for not being able to reconcile his mixed feelings. He was locked into punishing himself for something that most people would be just as troubled with.:: (Calla) Zehn: You feel pulled between the lives Kaedyn had built for himself with Eliaan and the one torn away from Jilenna too quickly. Given the fact that you were not planning to be Joined, it is completely natural for your life as Kaedyn Zehn to go in a third direction. It is also natural for you to take elements of Jilenna’s life and incorporate them into your own. (Kaedyn) Zehn: But how do I reconcile situations where they go in opposite directions? (Calla) Zehn: Then you have to work out which direction is right for you (Kaedyn) Zehn: What if I already know the direction but am too scared to articulate it because if I get it then everything I’ve ever wanted comes true and if I don’t then I can’t work out how to live with the regret? ::Calla made no response sensing, he figured, that he had more to say or waiting for him to actually come the point that they had both knew he hadn’t reached yet. He had carried it with him since he had returned to the station. He had danced around it, too afraid to even allow himself to think it fully never mind say it out loud.:: (Kaedyn) Zehn: What if I want to stay here with Eliaan, change my job and adopt Janel? What if that’s the new life that I want? ::A broad smile spread across Calla’s face and she leaned towards him:: (Calla) Zehn: Ah, then this may turn out to be a longer session than you might have expected… TBC Lieutenant (junior grade) Kaedyn Zehn Chief Nursing Officer SB118 / USS Victory

((Transporter Room - USS Apollo)) :: The air that Liam breathed in as he materialized in the transporter room of the Apollo was as fresh as an ocean breeze when compared to the dank, stale atmosphere of the Canduc. He had only spend a total of a few hours on the ship, but it was more than enough of that type of environment to last him for a long time. Most of the crew fled out of the room made their way out and to the turbolift. Liam allowed himself to fall behind them, catching the next lift and taking it up to deck three. A short walk down the hall and he found himself in front of his own door.:: :: The lights of the room came on as he entered, enjoying the slow transformation that was taking place as he and Cayden slowly made the otherwise unremarkable room feel slightly more like a home, though he had to admit it was more by her doing than by his. He appreciated the effort none the less, as he had little talent for it himself. After a few moments of admiration, he made his way to the bathroom. He began running water into the sink, splashing and wiping his face in an effort to remove what felt like a fair layer of general grime that he had accumulated while aboard the freighter. He toweled off and took a moment to examine himself in the mirror.:: :: His memory drifted back to his first away mission on the Victory. He remembered how it felt to step off the shuttle for the first time after their rather spectacular landing. He remembered the strangest mix of pride and guilt. Pride at having gotten the shuttle down without any serious injuries, and yet guilt for not having been able to prevent the crash in the first place. He was just an ensign then, fresh out of the academy, and far less prepared for what the galaxy had in store for him than he had believed he was. :: :: He looked down at the collar of his uniform. Two gold pips and one black one. They were, to him, more than a simple denotation of rank, an indicator of his status within the hierarchy of Starfleet rank. each of them was a symbol of something he had experienced, something he had seen, something that he had experienced, something that he had lost whether he had prepared for it or not.:: :: They each sat on the collar of his dark red shirt. It wasn't any different from the collar he'd worn when he first came aboard the Victory and first taken his seat at her conn. They'd soon rushed off onto a situation more profound than many officers had experienced in their entire careers. He'd worn a gold one too, as the Chief of security for an entire Starbase and it's 118,000 residents and countless visitors. And there too he'd seen more than he could have imagined when a terrorist organization had bombed the station. He's never even found the time, or the nerve, to read the final count of lives lost in the hours of the attack and the days after. He'd had to contact a few families of security officers that had made the ultimate sacrifice in the line of duty. And not once had it gotten any easier, though he supposed that was proof that he hadn't lost his humanity.:: :: And now he was back in red. The colour was like having come full circle. He had stepped aboard wearing it, expecting so much of himself, and the rest of the crew uncertain of what to expect from him. He had been the outsider then, joining a crew that had already established itself, and he had worked hard to find his place in it. Now he was wearing the colour again, but the expectations were somewhat reversed. This time they represented everything that the crew expected of him. They expected him to be a leader, a guide as they ventured boldly into the unknown, and to do his best to balance their interests with the mission. the Captain expected much of him too; a bridge between him and the crew, a voice of reason, someone to bounce ideas off of, and, if need be, to tell him when he was plain out of his telepathic mind.:: :: And underneath it all was Liam. Not the pilot, the security officer, or even the explorer. Just the man, the son, the brother, and the friend. History would judge him by those other things. But the ones closest to him, his parents, his brother and sister, and Cayden, would all judge him simply by what measure of a man he was and had been. And that was all he could demand of himself, was to be a man. Not the man that they saw him as, or as the man he wanted them to see him as, but simply the man the he wanted to see himself as.:: :: And in that moment, he had, for the first time, a clarity that he had not had before. A clarity of expectation and of purpose. When it had mattered, and been expected of him, he had been the leader that his team needed. And he had brought them all back safely. No one could have expected any more from him, not even himself. He looked at himself in the mirror once more, with his new found clarity and knew that he was, in that moment in time, exactly where he was meant to be.:: :: He stepped out of the bathroom, crossing his quarters to the bedroom and retrieved a fresh uniform, and discarding the dirty one for reclamation. He pulled the shirt over his head and pulled the jacket over his shoulders. He looked down at the pictures on the desk as he walked back into the living room. The picture of his family, the one of him with Sidney and Oliver on some adventure, and he smiled.:: Frost: Computer, begin recording. :: The computer chirped at him in acknowledgement.:: Frost Hey mom. I have to get back to work in a few minutes, but I thought I should let you know how I've been... LtCmdr Liam Frost First Officer USS Apollo

((Somewhere on the Surface of Thracia II)) ::A stiff wind blew through the baring trees, shedding more of the dying leaves from the brittle branches and bringing with it a chill that permeated the air surrounding the silently moving predator. With darkness falling, it would have been difficult to see the black hair billowing behind her head like smoke from a growing blaze, unless of course you knew just what you were looking for. To the prey she stalked, her silent movements went unnoticed as it continued to gather what it would need to survive the coming winter.:: ::With speed and agility that came naturally to the woman who darted through the trees and across the blanket of dead leaves spread over the hillside ground, Ili'kai approached her prey from a downwind angle. Sharpened spear in hand, her graceful movements finally brought her in range of the large rodent-like creature. Pulling the spear back in the same manner her mother had taught her, she took one last aim at the animal and sent the weapon sailing through the air.:: ::As her fingertips let their grip fade, the creature finally looked up to see the hunter, but by then it was already too late. An almost sickening cry erupted from it as the spear found its mark and took a life that had been there only moments before. With a sigh, the woman moved next to her kill and fell on her knees whispering towards the first stars that began to appear in the ever darkening sky above.:: ((Warbird Rinoaul - In Orbit of Thracia II)) ::The Thracian Alliance has officially been born. With the transition of the Vauthil to the command of Commander Kital Creena, and the apparent retreat of the Klingons from the border world's orbit, the newly born, interstellar power could begin to gain a foothold in one of the most contested and hostile regions of space known to the galaxy - the Neutral Zone that lay between the Klingon Empire's territory and that which once belonged to the Romulan Star Empire.:: ::With help from the Federation, war over the mineral rich planet below had been averted. Despite the apparent direction in which the Alliance would head, the Commander of the Starfleet ship which had been dispatched to negotiate the contested region had finally stood behind the third option once it had been presented. Not wanting the world to be either Klingon or Romulan, and rightly so due to its location, the raven haired officer had backed up the Thracian Fleet which had been disguised in the cloak of the Romulan predecessors to whom the ships had once belonged.:: ::The destruction of Hobus had changed everything and the move to bring together a sect of Romulans with a group of Velorians and Ameoneians seemed promising for all involved. Now they had created the fledgling Alliance, with their first task to be implementing mining operations on the untouched planet below. The world was rich in minerals, and it would bring plenty of income to the new Alliance, but there was still one small issue to take care of. Far below the Rinoaul, on the surface of the primitive world, was a proto-Vulcan race that had not yet achieved industry let alone space travel.:: ::It was an issue that would need dealing with, but not one that would slow the new Thracian Alliance down.:: ((Somewhere on the Surface of Thracia II)) ::Standing on the edge of a rock that jutted farther into the sky than those surrounding it, as if reaching for the very stars she watched, Ili'kai pulled the heavy cloth hanging off her shoulders closer around her thin frame. The first chill of winter could be felt here much more starkly than it could below in the forest. The lack of trees on the rocky ledge permitted the whipping winds to race the birds along the mountaintops as they sought shelter as they would from a coming storm.:: ::The same feeling that sent the animals deeper into the darkness set an uneasy feeling about her. Though the rock she stood on, Stormwatch, was named for its vantage point that gave her people the ability to see, and thus prepare ahead of time, for the coming storms sent by the gods, this night she saw nothing but clear skies. Night spread across the lands, snuffing the last of the daylight and sending the sun into exile until day would break once more on the other side of the sky. The stars appeared, twinkling into existence one by one as the sky grew darker and the last remnants of the day were lost forever. There were no signs of a storm, yet the winds carried with them a new voice; whispers of change that promised something sinister she couldn't quite understand.:: ::Things were simple for her and her people. The same events came year after year, season after season, with very little changing the lands around the villages that thrived along the river they knew as Mirak. It was the water that brought life and provided them with the creatures that they hunted. It gave them a mode of transport and refreshment on the warmest of the summer days. Winters weren't easy, but the river allowed life to thrive through the cold as long as you had the tools to break through the surface to the flowing water below the ice.:: ::Traditions had been passed from mother to daughter since antiquity. Ili'kai was proof of those traditions. Now standing on the rock that had been known as the guardian and lookout point, where her people sent scouts to catch the very first tendrils of danger that might be heading their way, what amounted to the princess of the Paytora people sought to figure out just what danger that might be. There were no visible signs of it, but the feeling that was eating away at her wouldn't let her give up and take her recent kill home without searching for something deeper.:: ::Again, the dark haired woman with the pointed ears pulled her primitive cover closer around her body to block out the shrill stab of the cold wind, watching as the trees below her in the valley swayed in the growing silence. It was then, as yet another wave moved across the ocean of half bare trees below, that she noticed it.:: ::Far above the few traces of clouds that floated through the night sky, a single point of light appeared to move from one side of the sky near the horizon to a place directly above her. The woman let out a gasp and sunk instinctively to her knees. Taking shelter in the small bushes that grew here and there among the rocks, Ili'kai watched the light as it moved into the distance and disappeared.:: ((Thracian Survey Shuttle - Enroute to the Surface of Thracia II)) ::Cytara Tren, Sub-Commander and Commanding Officer of the now Thracian Alliance Warbird Rinoaul sat back in the chair and watched as the terrain of the planet came into view. It was still very far below them, but she was able to make out a river here and there between seas of various greens, a teal-blue ocean to the east, and some kind of darkened forest in the south. The scientists on the ship had told her of a few small colonies, if that's what you could call them, positioned along the biggest of the rivers. It was here that the primitive race lived.:: ::Mining equipment was already being arranged for transport to the surface. In fact, as soon as day arrived on this side of the planet, the operation was set to begin. However, history had a way of repeating itself, and so Cytara was sent to head off any problems the natives might cause. They might have been primitive, but when you were fighting for your right to exist, strength seemed to find its way to you. It was her job, then, to ensure that strength did not find its way to these people, in this time.:: ::Along the river the shuttle went, getting closer to the surface as it passed one village. A few minutes later it passed another. Things went on like this until the river met a much larger body of water and poured its heart and soul into the sea; a sea that would soon turn red with the blood of the dying world. With a stoic gaze, Cytara watched as the shuttle turned around and lined up for another pass along the river. The effects of the mining operation were of no consequence to her. After all, it was not the Romulans or the new Thracians, who maintained the so-called Prime Directive, and as her mind was only concerned with the wellbeing of her people, the images of the blood red water didn't bother her.:: ::Lower to the surface now, the shuttle sped along, racing up the snaking river as its occupants, mostly science personnel from the Rinoaul, took note of sensor readings, village locations, and mineral rich deposits. In nearly every case, village locations coincided with mineral rich areas, a theory that had come to light while the team had still been on the larger ship above. Now that it had been confirmed, it was time for Cytara to decide on how to relocate the natives without causing too much of a stir.:: ::While her first reaction would be to just get rid of them, the Thracian Alliance was decidedly not the Romulan Star Empire. As such, the game would have to be played a bit differently than if Hobus had still been around. Besides, there was something to be said about native labor. The less they would have to do themselves, the easier the process promised to be. Not only would these native people know the land and any dangers that lurked within, but they would surely be awed by the technology that Cytara and the Alliance would bring with them. Yes; that would be the best way of dealing with the problem of these people that, to her, didn't even have a name.:: ::Perhaps her mind was running away with her, but she envisioned a welcome that the very gods would receive if there had been any. Sure, she knew better, but would the native people of the planet know better? With looks that were similar to the proto-Vulcan race, becoming their religious icons seemed like the path of least resistance and something that she could truly enjoy. Her aspirations within the Romulan military had been dashed with the destruction of their main star, but perhaps she could regain something with her command of the mining operations on Thracia II.:: ::A small, somewhat repugnant smile appeared on her face as she continued to look out the front window of the survey shuttle. Her hands clasped in her lap, plans of her godly 'homecoming' were already coalescing in her mind.:: ((On Top of 'Stormwatch' - The Surface of Thracia II)) ::With the passing of the dancing light in the sky, a sight that Ili'kai took as a sign from the gods above, the land grew eerily still. The sky was still devoid of clouds, yet the calm of the wind, the ground, and the life of the surrounding forest seemed to point directly at an oncoming storm. She was beyond confused now, wondering not only what the strange light in the sky had been, but what the reason was behind the stillness of that night. It felt as if something were coming, though she could not even begin to speculate as to just what it was.:: ::The soft rustle of a nearby bush pulled her eyes from the sky as the head of a large cat-like creature emerged slightly to watch her. A soft smile graced her features and she knelt down to pat it's head. Distracted with her loyal pet, who also refused to step out into the open, Ili'kai never saw the approaching shuttle as it raced along the course of the Mirak river. The wind seemed, for a moment, to pick up, blowing the long dark hair from around her shoulders and out behind her, but she gave that moment and all of her attention to the seemingly fearful animal hiding in the bush.:: ::It was often the timing of the universe that made things as they were, and in this moment, things were no different. As Ili'kai knelt near her beloved pet, whispering tranquil thoughts to him, a deep rumbling sound grew in the distance. Seconds later, the sound grew into a thundering roar as a huge flying creature rushed over Stormwatch. Not having the time to hide, the woman found herself alone again, left with her confusion and fear as she watched the strange bird dart into the distance.:: ::There was a moment where she knelt frozen, unsure of what action to take or even if she had really seen what she had just seen. The creature, having disappeared along the river, left her in near total silence and even the wind calmed beyond the norm. It seemed as if a specific calm, one that preceded the worst of the squalls, had settled; she had to warn her people of the danger that rode on the wind that eve. Though she was still unsure of just what that danger was, they needed to prepare for the coming storm.:: ::Tying the worn in cloth around her shoulders, the agile legs of the Peytora princess carried her quickly through a forest that was far more silent than it should have been. The land itself, along with all of its inhabitants, were preparing for the tempest that was building just out of their sight. Ili'kai knew now that her people needed to do the same, and quickly, if they were to survive.:: ::Her momentum carried her into her village with an air of panic about her. Walking to the elders hall and not speaking to any as she did, the raven haired woman threw open the doors and locked eyes with her mother. There was fear in those eyes, as well as a look that conveyed the dreadful nature of what she had seen. It was only when the great hall fell silent at her abrupt entrance that she spoke.:: "A storm is coming on the wings of a giant eagle," her voice sounded ominous, proclaiming the dire news. "We must prepare." -- Commander Kalianna Nicholotti Commanding Officer Starbase 118/USS Victory

Welcome to the Fleet! =)

I think, if you wanted to develop something like this for our time, you should probably start from scratch. There is so much here that makes me stop and shake my head, though I totally believe it's cool that someone thought to write it up and sell it at a convention. Back in the golden age of conventions before we had the internet en force, we actually had to gather in one physical area to share our crazy love of Star Trek... I am going out on a limb here, but I'm going to guess that most, if not all STDs, like headaches, don't exist anymore at this point in the future... I think that this may have been written back when such things were absolutely taboo and could not be put on TV, or really spoken of, so there was no need to address that which was not socially acceptable then. This document definitely reflects the human values of the time in which is was written. Indeed. What's to stop two people/aliens from procreating without said contract or approval from the Chief Medical Officer. (Again, a reflection of the times in which it was written). That's what I was thinking too...so if you updated it, we would almost have to lose all the medical testing and so on. Are genetic issues widespread enough to even worry about in the Trek future? Wouldn't the most that it would require is a look over of medical records to determine anything? Anyways, I think, if you wanted to tackle this, it might be interesting to have - but it might be easier to just start from a blank page and go from their rather than try to rework this particular list. Cool find though. It's very interesting to see how Trek has changed with the times around it, and perhaps, how we have changed because of Trek?

That's a great idea! Lazer tag in the cooridors of a starship...awesome!

Katrina glanced over her appearance in the strangely plain mirror and adjusted the clip in her hair so that two long tendrils fell to either side of her face without obscuring it. Dressed in her best, the reporter was preparing for what might just be one of the most exciting days of her life. As part of a special program, she had been chosen along with nine other up-and-coming journalists, to participate in an in-depth look at just how things were done on a ship in today's Starfleet. The project was half a recruitment ploy and half an effort to bring those out on exploration missions closer to home, but to Katrina, it was the job of a lifetime. Ensuring that everything was in place and perfect, the dark haired woman leaned backwards so that she could see around the side of the door frame to check the time. There was still ten minutes before she needed to leave for the media relations office in the Command Tower. It would be just enough time to touch up her makeup and ensure that every last detail of her appearance was perfect. For her, the call to join Starfleet had come too late. It was only after the accident that took her leg that she realized it would have been a fine way of life. By then, she was already a well renowned journalist anyways, and leaving the profession she had excelled at to take a stab at something she probably wouldn't be able to do on account of her life-long injury, well, it just didn't make sense. But today, all of that was just water under the bridge. Today she would be in the middle of everything with access to every member of the senior staff and it was a day that she had been looking forward to since the project had been announced. Another glance at the clock told her that it was time to go. With one final look in the mirror, Katrina grabbed her PADD and recorder before confidently walking out of the temporary quarters they had assigned her the day before. The day was waiting and she wasn't going to be the one to hold it up. So, it was with a huge smile on her perfectly made up face that she set off for her assignment. ((Later, Aboard the USS Endeavor)) Things had happened quickly inside the office of the press secretary; so quickly that she hadn't even sat before the details of the day were revealed. She was to be deployed to the USS Endeavor to mirror and interview the senior staff throughout the course of an entire standard day. It would be a test of her time efficiency as well as a test of the officers who she would be speaking with. There was the ever present promise of trouble in the air, along with a dash of awe and wonder, as Katrina had followed the junior officer that had been assigned as her guide. Without many words, he had quickly led her to the transporter and now she was no longer on the Starbase. Instead, she was surrounded by the plain grey bulkheads of a ship based transporter room. "So. Where did you want to go first?" The voice floated up to her ears from the ground in front of the transporter pad. Realizing that she had little time to waste, Katrina quickly stepped off the pad herself and started towards the door. Her guide fell in step next to her. "I thought we'd go by sickbay and engineering first if it's all the same to you," she said as she offered him one of the smiles that she was so well known for. What kind of a journalist would she be without a great smile? This one, like so many others, was just a part of the persona. "Sounds good to me," he said as he shrugged, "I've got nowhere else to be." He made an attempt at taking the lead, but Katrina was already on the quickest path to sickbay. She had spent much of the night before looking at maps and charts so that she could maximize the time she would have with each of the officers she was to interview. That was, at least, one thing that no one could ever accuse her of; being unprepared. Content that she knew where she was going, her guide fell back into step next to her in silence. ((Sickbay, USS Endeavor)) It wasn't a busy day in sickbay, at least not yet. The ship probably hadn't left the Starbase yet, but Katrina was well on her way towards completing the assignment. In an attempt to be as little of a distraction as possible, she simply stepped inside and began watching as normal events began to unfold. Towards the other side of the room, there was a single occupied biobed with a man on it who looked as if he was meant to be anywhere but there. His clothing indicated that he had been doing some kind of exercise. Katrina would later find out he had been playing tennis on the holodeck. She pulled the small recorder from her pocket and hit record just in time to catch a simple exchange between the doc tor and the man. "I know you won't heed this advice," the doctor began as she pressed a hypospray to his neck, "but you really should take it easy for a week or so. That elbow won't heal if you keep pushing it." The smile on the woman's face made her seem overly friendly and only trying to help. The man responded in kind with a friendly look and a shrug. "I know. I just can't sit around," the man said as he laughed. "Well, you should be good to go now," the doctor said as she felt the area around the man's elbow. "I'll see you tomorrow." The man hopped off the biobed and waved. Turning just before he made it to the door, he stopped. "Perhaps not," he said just before disappearing beyond the sliding doors. Katrina watched him leave before walking towards the doctor, who had literally plopped down in the chair behind the Chief Medical Officer's desk in the half enclosed office to the right of the biobeds where she had just been. The smile was gone from her face and she rubbed her temples before noticing the journalist standing in the doorway. "Oh, hello," the doctor offered her a small smile as she spoke, "you must be that reporter." Stepping forward with an outstretched hand, Katrina introduced herself. "That's me, and this is my first stop." The smile returned to the doctor's face as she sat up a bit more and nodded thoughtfully before speaking again, "Welcome to the Endeavor." Not sure what she had just witnessed, Katrina took the cue to sit in a chair on the other side of the desk. With a quick glance around the small office, she thought of the best way to ask just what it was that she wanted to ask. "Rough day already?" was all she could muster. The doctor shook her head no, "I'm just a bit tired, but not enough to interfere with my bedside manner." Katrina made a note on the PADD in her hand; bedside manner. The conversation continued without any trouble and soon the excited journalist had the first of her interviews completed. With a quick thanks to the doctor for taking the time to speak with her, she stood and led her guide out into the corridor. Her mind was already on the next place they would be visiting; Engineering. As she got closer to the moment she would step onto the bridge of that starship her heart seemed to get faster. It would be the crowning moment of the entire day. Not wanting to get ahead of herself, however, she forced one or two deep breaths before the pair arrived at the overly large door to the Engineering department. ((Engineering, USS Endeavor)) The first thing that Katrina noticed about Engineering was the noise. It wasn't an unpleasant noise, but it was loud enough for you to not be able to speak in a normal tone if you wanted other people to hear you. In fact, she could hear a few people speaking loudly over the din of the core itself and the many different computers that were all making sounds of their own. One voice stood out above all others though; one voice that quickly exclaimed in surprise upon seeing the journalist and her guide. "I'm that far behind?!" The man in the gold collar turned, regaining his composure, and issued orders to the group of officers in front of him. He was calm and calculating, directing each of the officers in a firm and commanding manner to the jobs that needed to be accomplished before they went to warp. There wasn't much time, he explained. They were about to head out on their day-long mission and he didn't want to be accountable for the entire ship running behind. As the group dispersed, the man himself found the closest ladder and slid all the way down to the place where Katrina and her guide stood waiting. Extending a hand as she had at the first interview, she half expected the man to take it and lead them to an office. Apparently he had other things to do just then, however, and he walked right past her. "If you want to talk to me, then you've got to walk with me," he said as he moved by in a hurry, "I've got to realign the field before we can engage the warp drive." Scurrying to keep up, Katrina followed the man as he seemed to dart from one station to another. His hands flew across the consoles as if they weren't human but something much more...machine-like. She tried to ask a few questions, to which she got varying short answers, but it wasn't until she asked him if he was always quite so 'in a hurry' that he actually stopped and turned to her. "Ya know, I don't think I'm like this unless I'm here in Engineering," he said with a soft tone behind it, "I'd say I'm normally pretty laid back and lazy." To that comment he laughed heartily before becoming the swirl of activity he had been only moments before. Much like her interview with the doctor, this one went quickly and sooner, rather than later, she was on the move again. This time, however, she would be taking her recording device and her PADD to the bridge. Her excitement must have shown too, because the man next to her seemed to be widening his step just to keep up with her. It didn't matter to the journalist though. This was a dream come true in many ways, and as she approached the lift that would carry them to the center of activity on the ship, her face betrayed the girlish giddy excitement that raged within. ((Bridge, USS Endeavor)) Her first step out onto the bridge after the lift stopped was like walking into a dream. She had never gotten the chance to be on a real bridge, especially on one of the most well known starships in the whole of Starfleet. The smile that was plastered on her face was almost too much, but the bridge officer's didn't seem to mind. Her escort took her around the bridge and showed her each of the stations while introducing her to each member of the senior staff. They each offered her a welcome before the first officer stood and gestured towards the ready room door. "I think we have the perfect place for you to conduct your interviews," he said as he smiled, "right this way." The grin on her face got even bigger; who knew she was going to be allowed in there! Nodding excitedly, Katrina followed the much taller man into the small room. She looked around and took in everything, burning it in her mind. This would likely be the one and only chance she would have at an experience like this. After a moment, she finally moved towards a sofa sitting in one of the corners. "Will this be alright?" she asked as she looked up at him. He had been watching her take it all in, giving her the chance to really feel the power of the room. With a smile, he replied. "Perfect. I'll send in the first victim." The look on his face told her he was joking and she laughed as she nodded. Without a wasted moment, the man left the room and she gathered her wits as best she could. This was the moment she had been waiting for; she had the chance to sit and really see what made each of the officers on the senior staff tick. It was exciting and it was an amazing assignment. She was more than happy it had fallen to her. A moment later, the doors of the room slid open and the first of many officers walked in. Katrina greeted them each as they came and went, spending about fifteen minutes with each of them. The process took a few hours, but now all that was left was the Captain. She saw her day winding down and her time aboard the ship drawing to a close as the almost regal man walked through the doors. As she had the others, she greeted him with a smile and gave him a moment to settle. He took up a spot on the sofa a few feet from her with a mug of warm tea. Content that he was ready, she began the same line of questions again. Before she knew it, she found herself towards the end of the questions, and with an almost sad smile she looked up at the man. "That's all I have, Captain," she said, "I do want to thank you for this opportunity. It's been amazing. You have a very nice ship here." She was almost rambling, and she realized it, so she stopped there and forced her lips closed. "Not a problem," he replied with a warm smile back in her direction, "We do enjoy a change to the daily routine sometimes." Pushing back a piece of her hair that had fallen at some point during the interviews, Katrina nodded. "Everyone was very cooperative and nice," she stated as she tapped a few keys on the padd in her hand. It was a true statement and she was glad that she had gotten the information she had. A few feet away, the Captain nodded and smiled knowingly. "Good. Then perhaps you'd like to do it all over." "What? Why?" Katrina looked up with a very confused look and nearly stuttered the response. The man stood and walked to his desk where he sat his mug down. "There's a get together in our lounge tonight if you'd like to join us," he turned slowly until he faced her again as he spoke, "and perhaps in that environment, you'll get to see everyone as they really are. You know, without the masks of duty." He walked over to her and handed her a padd before giving her another nod. "We'll see you there," he said without waiting for a response. Turning on his heel, he moved back out onto the bridge only to be replaced by her escort. Katrina knew now that it was time to go, but the words of the Captain kept running through her mind. Absentmindedly following the escort, she almost didn't notice she was going anywhere until she could feel the lift start moving. Looking up at the escort, who had been watching her, she grinned, "I guess I get to stay a little longer." With eyes that glowed with childlike excitement, Katrina turned her attention back to the padd as she compiled the information into one file and made room for new. If she was right about what the Captain had said, she was going to need a lot more room for the second time around. --- Commander Kalianna Nicholotti Commanding Officer Starbase 118/USS Victory

((Chief Medical Officer's Office - Deck 500)) ::Life, Eliaan Deron had learned the hard way, had a habit of going in a direction you could never have dreamt. When he thought back to his first day at Starfleet Academy, he had never imagined that this was what fate had in store for him. He would never have expected to fall in love with a Napean doctor on a mercy mission only to have him die; he would not have thought he'd end up serving under his friend Kali Nicholotti who he had trained with; he never expected to fall in love with Kaedyn Tann; never expected to leave Starfleet after the death of a patient only to return as a science officer and be forced into Sickbay again.:: ::Still, none of that was as unexpected as the sight of his partner, newly joined to a Symbiont, with his previous host's son and mother bunking down in his office for the night. He had been glad that Mezan had found it all as strange as he did but had greeted him warmly. This was uncharted territory for everyone but Eliaan loved Kaedyn and wanted to support him during this difficult time and Kaedyn wanted to be near Jilenna's family and to ensure they were kept safe during the emergency.:: ::And so, he found himself lying on a makeshift bed on the floor of his office staring at the ceiling trying to process everything that had happened lately, while Kaedyn and Mezan slept on his couches and baby Janel slept in a cot between them. The lone non-Trill among them, he felt almost as if he were intruding,which he knew was silly since it was his office after all. Despite this, he had no idea what Trill custom suggested in situations like this. He knew that it was taboo for Joined Trill to carry on romantic relationships with partners of previous hosts but could stay friends with the friends of previous hosts. How did their society deal with the families and particularly the young children of former hosts?:: ::As he pondered these questions, sleep evaded him. He had never been someone for who sleep came easily, when he did want to go to sleep his mind would kick into warp speed and he'd start mulling over things deemed too difficult to think about during the day.:: ::After a long time simply staring at the ceiling, he decided to get up and catch up on his mountain of messages. As he did so, he heard a small whimper from the crib and, with a level of trepidation, he approached and looked down at Janel. It was a strange feeling, he felt some responsibility towards this child to which he had no ties and had only just met but if Kaedyn was almost his parent then Eliaan was almost his step-parent.:: ::Janel lay in the crib wriggling, kicking his legs and whimpering a little but not crying. He looked up at Eliaan, who glanced over his shoulder at the two other adults in the room who were both fast asleep. He reached into the crib and lifted him out and as he was hit by a terrible smell, he immediately realised why Janel was unsettled. Deron: Oh dear... Umm, okay. I can totally handle this... ::Resisting the urge to hold the infant at arm's length he walked over to the replicator behind his desk and replicated the items he thought he needed for the procedure. Still holding the baby, he cleared a space on his desk and placed him gently onto it. :: Deron: Don't worry, I'm your... Well... its complicated... but I'm a Starfleet office so I can be trusted and a doctor so you are in safe hands. ::The baby made no response and Eliaan took that as informed consent to have his diaper changed by this stranger.:: Deron: Okay, this can't be too difficult. ::Removing the dirty diaper and cleaning the "patient" wasn't too difficult but as he tried to put the new diaper on he found it much more difficult than he expected. Janel giggled as he failed for the second time to assemble the device around the baby in a manner that both fitted and would remain on him. This, Eliaan muttered, was ridiculous, he was able to perform incredibly delicate surgery but he couldn't do this. The idea of waking Kaedyn or Mezan crossed his mind but then he realised how pathetic he would seem if he couldn't do this.:: ::He made a third attempt and was incredibly relieved that it was successful. Janel began to wriggle and compain again as he lifted him back up and held him against his shoulder.:: Deron: ::soflty:: Shhhh shhhh shhhh ::The baby settled slightly and Eliaan began to pace back and forth, gently bouncing him.:: Deron: I know your mommy is gone. You probably don't understand but I'm sure you miss her. I want you to know that she hasn't gone far and she still loves you very much. ::He smiled realising, perhaps for the first time, how precious this could be and how strong Kaedyn must have been longing to get back to his "son".: Deron: Things are going to be strange for a while and I don't know what's going to happen, I'm afraid. ::The sound of his voice as he spoke softly and the slow movement back and forth behind his desk gently lulled the infant and he began to fall asleep.:: Deron: Don't worry though, you are surrounded by people who love you and we'll work something out ::With Janel finally sleeping and exhaustion threatening to catch up with him, he placed the baby back into his crib and returned to the makeshift bed on the floor.:: Zehn: ::whispering:: Eliaan... ::Not realising Kaedyn was awake, he sat back up with a start.:: Deron: ::whispering:: Yes? Zehn: ::whispering:: I love you Deron: ::smiling:: Love you too -- Lieutenant Eliaan Deron, MD Chief Medical Officer SB118 / USS Victory ~~and~~ Lieutenant (junior grade) Kaedyn Tann Chief Nursing Officer SB118 / USS Victory on medical leave

I kinda like this take. I could see a series out of it.... http://www.stphoenix.com/

I read that today too. The bit about Farmville made me grin... ::Hides the padd she was playing Farmville on...::

Conga rats to all, you were all a pleasure to sim with and I look forward to seeing you around the Fleet! ^.^

I have Pandora, with a station built around James Horner and Hanz Zimmer (with some John Williams too). Most of the time it has a steady stream of epic music that tends to be quite motivational for me. There's some Trek (mostly from the new movie) as well as a lot of Titanic, which I love, and The Last of the Mohicans, Vantage Point (love the main theme!) and more. A while ago I had a CD I think was called Symphonic Star Trek. It provided a lot of great music (the downside being there are also sound effects in there...) but I used to sim to it a lot. =)

There was, at one time, a Starbase 118 fleet inside STO. We did a lot of build up leading to the release of the game, including an interview on hailing frequencies! =) I'm in the same boat as Tracey though; the game simply lost my interest after a few weeks. I think it was more like a few months for me, but I have pretty much forgotten about it. I'm not sure if there are any left from the original fleet in the game, but it might be worth looking up for those who are interested.

Congrats and welcome! =)

((Noosphere - Thracia 2)) ::The noise of all these new minds can be unbearable, like a collection of lost souls on one of those pilgrimages down below. One of the space-fairing vessels leaves and I slowly run my fingers across its inhabitants. The skin rubs up against one last mind. It's a strange mind, somewhat lonely, somewhat connected. There's a cold distance and a child-like curiosity inside and.... maybe I would have made this place home in another life. But the mind slowly disappears. There's a last glimmer as the space around it folds and I whisper into the newly-formed void.:: ::Remember.:: ((Bridge - USS Victory)) ::They were at warp now and Kevin felt calm and glad. He ran a finger over his console and something came to mind... something strange. He'd found it in his grandfather's journal one day, when he'd been sixteen. Unlike the other entries it didn't have a date. At some point in the man's life he'd experienced what was written, but Kevin couldn't be sure when.:: ::He'd known a superior at work, someone whom, Kevin gathered from the text, he'd regarded as a mentor. Over the years he'd borrowed styles, everything from the way the man walked to the way he talked. He'd learned an outlook on life, a hard-nosed skepticism toward any new idea, mixed with a child-like faith propped up by what seemed to be the flimsiest spirituality. His grandfather had become aggressive himself, not because he was certain of anything he might have said as he displayed that aggression but rather because he was certain it was a way of getting results, of looking strong and sure of himself.:: ::He'd spent years trying to live up to the man's reputation, trying to be like him. But then one day the man had been discharged -- they'd called it fired in the parlance of the day. He'd been too brazen in commenting on the "strategic direction" given by the new leadership. At that time Kevin's grandfather had been shocked, uncertain what would happen to him. He'd copied so many of his mentor's idiosyncrasies, stolen so many of his thoughts and ideas, that he was certain he would be next to go. He'd spent hours each night, crying and shivering alone in the darkness. Someone who seemed like he could move mountains, like he could destroy someone or raise him up in an instant, had been so quickly disposed of.:: ::Every time Kevin read that journal entry it seemed as though it could fit anywhere in the old man's books. Every time he thought he found the place it might fit he'd find two more begging for attention. Maybe it had happened in 2019, during one of those particularly interesting periods in the man's life when he'd been trying to explore new ways of approaching the world. Or maybe it had been 2011. That didn't seem likely compared with 2004. When Kevin considered the wording it seemed more likely to have been sometime around 2023, but that was only when he ignored the idioms used in the second paragraph.:: ::The entry had been typed, not written. The paper it was set on was a thicker cardboard sort of material. It hadn't needed to be treated the way the rest of the pages of the journal had. Not at first anyway.:: ::Of course the old man had ended the page with the usual litany of promises that he would soon commit suicide, that his life was over, that there was no way out of the grave he'd dug for himself by acting the way his former mentor had acted. The other side of the page had been blank, save for the usual blemishes that came with time. Sometimes while growing up Kevin would read that page and then the medical report from the day his grandfather had died. Heart failure. Sarah, the man's former wife, had signed as his next of kin. On the faded paper her signature had looked like a congregation of so many other flecks aimlessly wandering.:: ::Kevin even now could almost imagine the man's corpse lying there alone -- maybe slumped over his desk having died while writing one of the thousands of pages that were now missing from the journal. The room would have been silent when he'd died, save maybe for the breeze at the windows. If he'd looked out the window he might have seen the empty roads, the cars now almost all gone save for the few motorists rich enough to afford fuel. The rest of the building would have been silent as well. It would have been around 2 in the morning and the old man's ears would have still been ringing from the beat of so much electronic music an hour before. By then the text would have repeated itself, following the same grooves over and over again, as the mind which composed it slowly spun about one axis of obsession or another. He would die soon. He had no future. He was free. He was alone. He had his stories and the characters in them. He had an endless universe. He possessed boundless emptiness.:: ::Kevin sighed. He imagined the night his grandfather's daughter had been conceived, when the old man had been younger. Maybe he'd been thinking of his mentor. Maybe he'd not even met him yet. Maybe he'd been ashamed, believing he shouldn't be doing what he was then doing. He wondered if Sara had been happy to have a man such as him. He wondered if she had yet begun to notice the cracks, the way his mind would dwell on one thing for days, weeks even. Maybe she had. Maybe she hadn't cared. Maybe she'd thought the man's wild intellectual tangents charming, been taken in by the illusion of wit or of genius.:: ::Sometimes the old man frustrated Kevin from across the centuries, hiding the most important parts and showing only the shrill emotion of a child not getting his way. It seemed more often than not that the man had just wanted to scream. He hadn't ever had anything to say. He hadn't ever been a cogent person, just a body, a mind, and a haphazard arrangement that implied the two should exist together for the duration of his time on Earth. And then they'd parted ways, his mind scattered about like so many flecks on thousands of disintegrating pages.:: ::Kevin was glad. He imagined his identity holding fast like a mountain, refusing to be moved as the people came into his life and receded like waves, some taking a little of him with them, others adding to him, but never enough to truly compromise who he was. He was happy he was certain because that identity always remained.:: ::He remembered Karynn Ehlanii, who'd taught him not to be afraid to feel, and T'tala, who'd done much the same, understanding him in ways few others seemed able. There was a pang of sadness when he thought of T'tala. David Cody had taught him to be made of sterner stuff, not to depend so much on his superiors for guidance. Ralik had shown him that it was possible to make something radically old like capitalism current and useful in a world such as this. And all the while he'd been there, mingling with the crowd and always being himself. Taking part in the action while remaining distinct. And when the people had left and others had taken their place the sadness had been short-lived. Sometimes he'd cried, even felt a little guilty. But then it had passed.:: ::A clank roused him from his reverie. Had he been thinking about this for long enough to reach home? The docking clamps were grasping the Victory and he moved to power down the engines.:: Nicholotti: Keep the engines running. Don't shut her down quite yet. Breeman: ::Quietly:: Sir? Nicholotti: We might need her. ::He nodded, pursing his lips. He decided it would be best to remain on full alert.:: Breeman: Aye sir. ::By now the shield emitters had been reset to their normal parameters and he ordered the work crews to begin calibration diagnostics on the auxiliary engine systems for now.:: Nicholotti: Turn your stations over to your relief and head to the Hub for debriefing. ::He looked back up. Then down again, setting the warp systems on standby and automatic maintenance.:: Breeman: Understood. ((Moments Later - Turbolift)) ::Kevin stood watching the hulk of the starbase whooshing past as the lift rose to the command tower. He remembered the day he'd gotten rid of his grandfather's diary. It had been when he was twenty-three. The pages by then were beginning to tear again. ((Flashback - Ancaster, Earth)) The first thing to go into the fire was the typed story of the mentor. It curled a little and then just sat a while in the hot coals before finally bursting into flames. Sometimes Kevin recognized a word or a paragraph. A hole was rapidly forming in the middle of the phrase that had led him to believe the entry had been written in 2007. 2010, meanwhile, oozed a gentle flame like a candle, while 2011 began at first as a couple of twinkling ashes which soon tore a hole into the first word of the sentence until, word for word, it was gone.:: ::Kevin didn't want to see any more of it. He grabbed the first book of the old journal and tossed it on top of the burning page. There was a shower of sparks as the old man and his idol disappeared beneath the weight of so much more writing, the flames licking and consuming all of it in time.:: ::He blinked. Someone was approaching. He recognized the form of his mother.:: Jan: Kevin! ::He looked at her as she approached.:: Breeman: Heh... Surprised? ::Still feeling a bit guarded after the argument he'd had with her a month before about the merits of the old man's journal, he allowed a smile to form slowly across his face.:: Jan: Kevin.. I'm proud of you. You need to be yourself. Everyone you meet in life is going to have something to offer you. ::By now she was sitting on one of the logs that surrounded the fire.:: Jan: And you'll have something to offer everyone else. But nobody is worth... ::She gestured at a corner of the cardboard still left intact and sticking out from under the burning books:: ....that kind of worship. ::Kevin nodded slowly.:: ::For a long time she looked at him as he methodically tossed each subsequent book into the fire. A month ago he would have seen this as akin to suicide or patricide. But now there was something resigned, then peaceful, in his revolt against the dead. He looked back up at her after tossing in the last book. She looked as though she was about to say something.:: ((Present)) ::Clank:: ::The lift stopped and Kevin stepped out into the hub.:: Anyone: Response? Breeman: Good morning. Anyone: Response? TAGS/TBC Lt. Cmdr. Kevin Breeman Chief Engineer Starbase 118

((Security Office - Starbase 118)) ::A blink. That's all it takes and Rowls isn't sure where he is for just that fraction of a second. A blink and he's compromising the safety of other members of his team. The involuntary act lasts exactly one hundred milliseconds. Rowls doesn't know that of course but if he were to ask the computer that's about how much time it would indicate.:: ::In the marines any sergeant catching him doing that would have given him a drilling from hell. Blinking so deliberately? No marine would ever do that! And no Marine would ever qualify to join Starfleet proper. But he did. He won, became what he'd always dreampt of becoming. The battle is over and he can go home. What is home? At home Mom and Dad were so proud when he became a marine. He wasn't.:: ::He blinks.:: ::Time passes more slowly when his eyelids lower for that tiny instant, and Rowls descends to who knows where.:: ::It's always the same. He's standing somewhere in a deserted city. The air is stagnant. But the rat tat tat of metal in the distance tells him something's moving somewhere. It's a staccato clanging mixed with a forlorn howl that seeps its way into every pore of the sensory experience, saturating Rowls with an unfamiliar acquaintance. Something's about to happen.:: ::94.3 milliseconds pass. His eyelids rise again. It's all it takes and Rowls isn't sure where he is, who he is. He's Rowls. It returns to him, a familiar acquaintance with the present.:: ::The computer chirps.:: Computer: =^= Ensign Rowls. Your duty shift ends now. ::He nods, bowing a little in the empty room. The doors part before him as he leaves. He almost expects something other than the corridors to appear before him. Stepping out into reality, into the hall, he walks a little cautiously, blinks a bit nervously. He rounds the corner and stops. Gasps.:: ::Seated at the edge of the wall is a brown cat. It stares deeply into his eyes. Rowls takes a step toward it and it rises, trotting away. He blinks and the animal is gone. Shaking his head, Rowls looks up at the ceiling, seeing the reassuring path of light leading down the corridor.:: ::He walks forward again. In another life he might have thanked the engineers for constructing such a simple arrangement. You go forward or you go backward. And the light never fades but remains there, fixed, above. On track..:: Ens. Rowls Security Officer Starbase 118 Ops as simmed by Lt. Cmdr. Kevin Breeman Chief Engineer USS Victory

(OOC - I have filled in any open tags in this sim to make it flow. I have included the signatures of all writers at the end of the sim.) ((Jen Malcolm's quarters)) ::Jen had changed into a fresh uniform, and was looking forward to meeting the new medical staff that had come aboard from SB 118. As she walked down the hallway her commbadge chirped, something that always promised excitement:: Nicholotti: =/\= Sickbay to Doctor Malcolm. =/\= Malcolm: =/\= Malcolm here =/\= Nicholotti: =/\= I need you in sickbay as soon as you can be here. =/\= ::She recognized Nicholotti's voice and was a bit concerned with the other doctor's exasperated tone.:: Malcolm =/\= Is there a problem?=/\= Nicholotti: =/\= Something is very wrong with the holographic doctor. =/\= ::In sickbay, the EMH appeared in front of her right then and leaned in towards Kali’s chest.:: EMH (to malcolm):=/\=No it's not. Everything is fine here. We're fine. We're all fine, here now, thank you. How are you? =/\= ::Kali pushed him away and the image faded once more.:: Nicholotti: =/\= I think I'll call engineering too. See you in a minute. =/\= Malcom: =/\= On my way =/\= ((Sickbay, USS Victory)) ::Kali looked at the contents of the shelves now resting in various directions on the floor. The sheer time wasted was testing the final nerve she had. She silently hoped that it was something that could be fixed quickly, because they couldn't operate effectively with a crazy hologram running amuck.:: Nicholotti: =/\=Sickbay to Ensign Tali. =/\= Tali: =/\= Ensign Tali here. Go ahead. =/\= Nicholotti: =/\= We seem to have a broken holographic doctor. Can you come take a look at it? =/\= Tali: =/\= Certainly Lt I'll see you there. =/\= Nicholotti: =/\=That would be great. It's really bad, so the sooner you get here, the better. =/\= Tali: =/\= Understood. Tali out. =/\= ::As the comm link closed, the hologram appeared again on top of one of the biobeds. He slowly flapped his arms and moved his head much like that of an earth chicken. To her side, the doors to sickbay opened revealing yet another doctor.:: Nicholotti: Watch out, the EMH has just gone insane. ::Kali wasn't afraid of him, but she was highly annoyed at the situation. Her cynicism shone through the sarcastic and condescending statement.:: Ijinia: Oh come now, everybody is just a little bit insane. ::As if on cue, he jumped down from the biobed and made a show of tiptoeing towards the ensign.:: EMH: Hello. Perhaps you will be more fun that the tall one over there. ::He laughed and jumped back, holding his hand out to her.:: Care to dance? Ijinia: Ah well I don't exactly know how.... EMH: Sheesh, all of you are so...::The image faded again.:: Nicholotti: Sorry. ::She frowned.:: Dr. Malcolm and Engineering are on their way. ::Kali leaned back on the wall and waited for everyone to arrive, hoping that her patience would last that long. Once again the EMH appeared and sat on one of the biobeds strumming an imaginary guitar while singing 'The Wheels on the Bus'...:: ::Jen entered what she had expected to be a well-stocked, organized and relatively empty Sickbay. The room was relatively empty; however it had taken on the appearance of some deranged kindergarten, with supplies strewn across the floor, and the EMH perched on a biobed singing a child's tune. Nicholotti completed the picture, looking for all purposes like the haggard teacher:: Malcolm: Dr. Nicholotti? ::Before the other woman had a chance to respond the EMH noticed her and hopped off of the bed::: EMH: oh dear! You certainly are sick! ::Jen watched in stunned fascination as the EMH skipped across the room to her. He grabbed her face in his hands and peered into her eyes.::: EMH: ::shaking his head:: yes, yes. just awful. ::pressing his thumbs into her cheeks:: and I've never seen such bad skin! Malcolm: ::looking over at Nicholotti while still in the hands of the EMH::: I see what you mean. Nicolotti: He just gets worse. ::The EMH released her and skipped across the room again to the medical supplies. He began organizing them into little pyramids while humming 'Happy Birthday' to himself. Malcolm: How long has he been doing this? Nicholotti: For about a half hour now...or, since I got in this morning. EMH: You know, you could've wished me a happy birthday. I would only be polite! ::He slid a hypo across the room:: Here, I think you were looking for this. Nicholotti: How about putting it where it belongs? Would that kill you? Malcolm: ::taking a tentative step toward him:: Um, why don't you put those back where they belong? EMH: Oh for the last time...THEYAREWHERETHEYBELONG! ::He phased out for a moment.:: ::Jen retreated back toward Nicholotti and Ijinia.:: EMH: Please state the nature of the fashion emergency. Geez, you all should get out more. You all have the same thing on. ::Throwing his hands in the air, he retreated to the other side of the room.:: Malcolm: well, let's just hope no one comes in for a physical. ::Kali half laughed. It would be their luck that this had to happen on the day that they were receiving most of their crew. She was sure that there would be plenty of people in for their physicals sometime soon. She silently hoped that Ensign Tali would be there soon. The EMH dissolved once again and poofed back into existence in front of Malcolm.:: EMH: What? The more the merrier. I like my sickbay full of people. Malcolm: Sorry to disappoint you, but this is my Sickbay. And I prefer having the equipment where we we aren't going to break our necks on it. EMH: It doesn't matter how you like your sickbay, because this one is mine. ::He put his hands on his hips and glared at her.:: ::Jen copied his pose:: Malcolm: No, it's mine. EMH: No, it's mine. I was here first. I claimed this area of the ship in my name. I'm sure I have the deed on holotape somewhere if you would like to review it. Malcolm: :::huffing::: I can't believe I'm having a fight with with a lunatic hologram! EMH: I called dibs. It's mine. That's it. ::The holographic image retreated to the other side of the room again ignoring anything else she said.:: Nicholotti: It's like fighting with a brick wall, only he talks back. ::She sighed.:: ::Turning, Kali began to clean up part of the mess that had accumulated near the bulkheads. The EMH seemed content to practice handstands against the wall near the far side of the room while the three doctors stayed relatively close together on the other side. It was odd to her, that suddenly their EMH would be on the fritz. Still in the end it would probably end up being a spec of dust on some super sensitive chip that was positioned far inside the center of the ship. That's how it usually worked in the military anyways. She smiled. At least life in Starfleet never changed.:: ::Lost in thought, she didn't realize that the holographic doctor had come up behind her and began pulling down what she had just picked up. He bumped her while he was moving from the shelf to the floor and she spun towards him again.:: EMH: You know what? I am really getting tired of cleaning up after you people. I think you should respect how I want my sickbay. Nicholotti: But it isn't yours you moron. You are a hologram, search your memory banks for information on that. ::She stopped picking up the floor and simply stood with her hands on her hips.:: EMH: Right. Me hologram, you, homo sapien. Very good. Our next class will be on alien species. ::Kali half growled, half roared at him in exasperation. Not only had this tested her nerves, but it seemed to have no end. She retreated to the alcove near the entrance and leaned back against the wall to await the arrival of their engineering friend.:: ::Jen walked over to a computer console:: Malcolm: Why can't we just turn him off? Nicholotti: Because he just comes back. ::It seemed his phasing in and out was totally random thus far.:: ::The EMH phased into appearance beside her and pinched her sides, causing her to jump and yelp as he tickled her::: EMH: Well, Miss Smarty Pants! I see you learned a few things in your medical classes. But I think you should just stay away from my computer ::Jen raised her eyebrows and wondered if she should bother arguing with him until she was spared by the arrival of Tali::: ::Elya arrived and looked in disbelief at the EMH, who was currently attempting to jump between two rather distant biobeds. Despite repeated failures, he was constantly reappearing on the original bed to try again. Looking around, she spotted Kali and Ijinia leaning impatiently against the wall watching this spectacle.:: Tali: ::setting down her pack:: Hmmm... I thought by "broken EMH" you intended to say a holo-emitter was malfunctioning, or something to that effect. Nicholotti: I wish it was that easy. Actually, can we break the holo emitter? EMH: ::materializing just over Elya's shoulder:: I don't believe we've met - it's a pleasure to meet you - who are you again? ... Do you enjoy dancing? ::Elya flinched away from the hologram and walked over to a console:: Elya: That's strange, the holographic matrices appear to have been severely damaged four or five times over the last few days... ::Elya hesitated, noting that one of the inexplicable events coincided almost perfectly with the admiral's disappearance.:: I would suggest that someone has been tampering with the EMH, but the modifications seem entirely random. It's impressive programming that the EMH's matrices reestablished at all in fact. EMH: Why thank you I pride myself on ... Elya: ::ignoring the EMH and turning back to Kali:: Unfortunately I don't think repairs will be possible in this condition... our best option until I figure out what is happening would be to revert him to a few days ago before this started. Malcolm: If he'd let us get near the computer. Nicholotti: If only. ::She sighed as she looked out across the mess throughout the entire bay, and the hologram that was only getting worse.:: JP by: Ensign Jen Malcolm, MD Chief Medical Officer USS Victory and Lt. Kali Nicholotti, MD Medical Officer USS Victory As simmed by Lt. Ash MacKenna With appearances by: Ensign Elya Tali Engineering Officer and Ensign Adani Ijinia, MD Medical Officer and "Mark" the EMH Mark II Holographic Doctors As simmed by the Medical Department All of the USS Victory

Slavery. The term had existed long before the Cardassians had shown up, and it would probably exist long after. Still, never had she thought she would live to see such dismal times. At fifteen, she should have been out playing or enjoying life, but since the occupation began two years ago, all the childhood hopes and dreams had long since died. Humanity had reached an all time low. There had been a time where nothing could cage the human spirit, but those days, like the dreams of a child, had drifted off into the twisting nether that now encompassed the planet. Never before had she shunned technology, but when faced with the pain that technology had brought with it, she now loathed it. In the darkness of the corner she had retreated to, Julie did her best to hide. The occupation had brought out the worst of mankind, and buried that which had made their species so great. Gone were the days of kindness and compassion. Now, they had been replaced with greed, lust, hate, and the never ending quest for a moment of pleasure. The Cardassians were worse in many aspects. Not only could they kill for whatever reason they wanted, but they could not kill as well. So many times had she wanted to provoke them into killing her, but they seemed to know that was what she was after, and they simply gave her more pain instead. They had found pleasure in the torture of humanity, learning from the worst of our history and putting it into practice. Unfortunately for her, and thousands of children like her, she fell at the butt end of the entire process. It didn’t take long for the Cardassians to segment all of humanity into camps. Everyone worked for them, or they died for them. Food was scarce, entertainment consisted of moments of solitude in the dark and as a population, the world was dying. Calamity. This would be the end of the human race. What was once such a great and thriving species had been broken down to nothing more than scrawny laborers. Julie smacked a bug as it crawled up her bony leg and she pulled the ragged blanket tighter. Winter was setting in, and she was praying for death to find her this year. Her strength had waned over the past few months, and now she was nothing more than a sack of bones. Sounds that reverberated through the cave made her jump, but she no longer had the energy to run. She knew they were coming for her, and a tear ran down her cheek as she prepared herself for the onslaught. The boots of the Cardassians drew ever closer, and she tried her best to pull up her inner strength. Knowing that there was nothing she could do, not even incite death, she simply tried to force her mind into another place; one that was far from where she was now. Around the corner they came, and tighter she pulled the tattered excuse for a blanket. She blinked and looked up into the ashen face of her tormentors. “I liked it better when she fought.” The deep voice of the highest ranking Cardassian spilled into the darkness and clung to the air like smoke over water. “Perhaps we could feed her more?” The taunting of a second Cardassian met Julie’s ears. The thought of food made her mouth water. It had been a long time since she had felt full and free from the pain of hunger. While half of her wished they would feed her as they said the other half simply wanted to be left to die. She closed her eyes and shivered as they moved closer, like vultures circling their prey. Tears fell from her eyes as one of their large hands moved closer to her taking the tattered blanket and throwing it to the side. Two other hands grabbed her and ripped her from the corner, their laughs resonating through the cavern walls. ***** A scream rang out through the stillness of the night. Women gathered around her, the last shreds of compassion in a world that had gone totally insane. Sweat poured down the face of the sixteen year old girl as another contraction gripped her frail and tiny body. The pain shot through her like jagged daggers, yet she could not escape it. “ Push hun. “ Another scream broke the night, and the women quickly scurried to cover Julie’s mouth. Fear of the wrath that it might bring overrode any sense of hope that a new child would have brought. No, they were simply worried that the noise would attract the Cardassians. Julie struggled to breathe as she pushed with the little strength that she had. “Let her breathe!” The pressure over her mouth lessened, but did not disappear. Julie’s body shook from the shock, the pain reaching a threshold that she simply could not bear. Another contraction loomed and she pushed with everything she had. Her tiny body was losing the battle, and darkness seemed to loom over her. A cloud of fog descended on her, and she could feel the pain, but suddenly she just didn’t care. Another push and she could feel her thin skin rip. A cry echoed in the silence of the darkened room, but it was quickly muffled. Julie opened her eyes and met those of her newborn child as it was being taken away. Just before it was out of sight, she saw it slump in the arms of the woman holding it, and she knew it was for the best. Halfbreed children only faced a horrible future, but in her mind, Julie cried. The women around her dispersed, not a one coming to her aid. Her strength had been spent in birthing the child, and now she lay alone in the dark. Unable to move, she simply closed her eyes and waited for the tide of death to rise up and meet her. Silence took over the once crowded room, and in the dark she thought she could hear the laughter of years past. “Mama?” A soft, parched voice reached her ears and startled her. It had been so long since she had heard the sound of her own voice that it now seemed so…alien. Blinking slowly, she felt herself fading. Reality was melting into a dream as she bled to death, and the pain faded with every minute that passed. She gasped for air as she felt her heart slow; its’ ever slowing beat echoing in her ears. Finally, she could hear it no longer. The suffocating cloud of death had come for her, and she welcomed it with open arms. ***** “Get that out of here.” said a gruff voice. Two women grabbed the arms of the broken and bruised sixteen year old and dragged her out of the room past the three Cardassian men. Behind her, a path of crimson blood followed, sinking into the wooden planks of the small shack. In silence, the three Cardassians turned and left the room. They were nothing more than inconvenienced, but in death, she had finally been able to annoy them if nothing else. If Julie had been there, she would have laughed. They had come for her like they did every week, but this time she had escaped.

Nope, this is the place you go. Because yours was posted twice, I just moved the duplicate away as to not clutter up the boards. =)

It is not mentioned that when somebody else is opening a thread for entrant should sign/denote it as finished with the horizontal arrow post icon when opening. I re-posted story signing it as finished. You can delete first thread - the not denoted one! Taken care of. Good luck Mr. Lawn

Congratulations guys!