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Saveron

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Everything posted by Saveron

  1. I could handle Dauntin up until that point. Ew Cade, just ew.
  2. ((Main Sickbay – USS Constitution-B)) Sometimes he would just stop. He would laugh it off as the creak of his bones, a flare up of an old injury or his favorite: ‘a senior moment.’ Laugh it off and hope that no one saw the thousand-yard stare. The haunted look in the old man’s eyes. He had fought, long and hard, to process the trauma of the Dominion War, and had emerged victorious. The ironic thing was he had to fight a war and then after the war he had to fight another war, but that second one was a battleground within his own mind. For a moment, as he held the kit, he saw a cargobay. A Jem’Hadar firing squad, disruptors aimed at a Captain Kenta and his intel officer MacNa-somethingorother. It wasn’t McNamara, that’s what Cade had always said and somebody always corrected him. It didn’t matter. He was dead. Cade had made sure the correct name was on the coffin. Kenta was a fair Captain, a perfectly decent Captain. Cade didn’t have a strong relationship with him in either way – neither positive nor negative. But Benjamin Kenta was the fiancée of one of his dearest friends Daisy Davidson. Like every relationship from Cade’s past this one was a knotted and tangled web that boiled down to: he needed to see Kenta live through this. Foster: ::With a drop of his tone into a sober darkness.:: Jem’Hadar Triage kit ::he flipped it open and prodded a hidden pocket to reveal a small vial.:: Still has the ‘White even. His hands were already slick with blood trying to close the wounds of two fellow officers rescued from a Dominion prison. One was a friend. A good friend. Someone he didn’t want to admit that he specifically weaseled himself into this recuse mission to save sort of friend. The other was a bright kid a few months out of the Academy. He didn’t want to lose them either. How was he such a good pilot? Some wondered that last mission as he flew the drive section of the Constitution in loops good enough to be counted as a first-year helm officer. Dominion war. He could see MacNa-whatever his name was – his gambit. A suicide maneuver that allowed Captain Kenta a chance to run. When Kenta ducked into the shuttle, Cade already had it warmed up, blood-slicked prints all over the controls. Ohnari: Doctor Foster did you... Two dozen Jem’Hadar troops rolled in seconds after the main hatch of the shuttle closed, and they shouldered their rifles, taking aim at the poorly shielded shuttles’s vital areas. The First calculated that they would have time for at least two, if not three good shots once landing thrusters were fired – and with any luck it should bring the craft and prisoners down before they even got beyond the perimeter alarms. What he didn’t calculate was the near-suicidal gamble of the shrewd Starfleet rescue team and the idiot doctor at the helm to forgo landing thrusters – forgo basic maneuvering thrusters even, and to simply slam the throttle to full thrust. A massive burst of fire erupted behind the tiny ship, which hit the back wall and coiled around, popping the ship through the damaged hangar bay doors like a cork out of a champagne bottle. It spun dizzily forward into the open air before getting its bearings and taking off straight upward like a shooting star in reverse. Behind it, the corpses of twenty-four charred Dominion soldiers stood in salute of a maniac gamble that paid off before they crumbled into ash. It was several more long seconds before those blue eyes returned to the Constitution and present day, 2398. Foster: ::quietly, musing.:: Been a long time since I’ve seen one of these. Ohnari: ::stone faced:: Perhaps not long enough. Never long enough, she had that right. For a moment he looked back at Talia and then the gaze snapped back into focus. He recognized her, in the here and now. Doctor Sweetheart. Conny. Saveron. Rescue Jalana. Always another rescue mission. May there be less blood this time. Foster: We need to sort these by usefulness and function… Was that a specific avoidance of the topic? Yes. He had spent enough time in the past for today. Ohnari: Yes. I believe we can toss that one. oO Into the nearest sun. Oo Foster: I’ll put it in quarantine. He hated to admit that the Dominion had some useful stuff. But was usefulness worth the pain of mental trauma? Probably not. Ohnari: Do you think we could replace the missing or broken pieces without looking too obvious...? ::holding up a few items:: Between these three, I can make about one functional kit...and that's stretching it. He nodded, rocking on his feet and considering. Foster: Yeah with a few modifications we can bulk up these kits. Camouflage our tools to fit in. Good idea. She held up another few pieces and looked at them with disgust. Ohari: I doubt any of the senior staff would appreciate becoming septic if forced to use some of these... He perked a brow at the basic Demerol suture device. It was basic, barbaric. It saved lived in front line triage. Cade was embarrassed how many times he had to use one of those to just stop bleeding. The sutures could be removed later and required some extra fancy cosmetic surgery work to remove the somewhat barbaric scarring. Surgery work he was all too used to. He had used those sutures on the Dominion rescue mission. In the end the only life he couldn’t save was MacNa… MacNab? No. It would come to him. Foster: Demerol’s better than Derma-Plast ::he shrugged.:: Ohnari: ? He started gather up the most useful tools into one pile as well as the medical kit cases. The cases were the most important. Foster: Oh yeah, we’re gonna run this entire batch through not one but two full cycles of class A sterilization protocol. Because you’re right, I don’t want anyone going septic. Ohnari: ? Rocking on his feet, he took out one of the bog-standard Starfleet medical issue hyposprays and placed it into the replicator, adjusting the settings on the control panel until there was a shimmer and the cosmetic casing on the device rippled and changed. He plucked it from the next and tossed it to Ohnari. Foster: There, how does that look now when you put it by the historical torture devices? It was a draft version of the cosmetic alterations they could make to the tools. Pretty good, but not perfect. Ohnari: ? Foster: Sure we can adjust. It’ll be easier if we do this in a batch. What tools do you need for a field med kit? That was, by and large, a personal preference. Cade liked certain tools that other doctors didn’t favor. And yes, he was taking that Demerol suture device. Ohnari: ? Foster: I’ll get this load into the sterilization chamber. You gather the real tools we need to cosmetically alter. We’ll gather back with the steri-chamber gives me the all clear. Clear. Something clicked. ‘Not MacNamara like Marinara, MacNameer like all clear.’ James MacNameer. Died, 237403.09 He had gotten the name right on the coffin. He hoped that there wouldn’t be a repeat. Ohnari: ? ~*~ tags/tbc ~*~ Lt Commander Cade Foster Mission Specialist USS Constitution-B
  3. Asking that question to Doctor Foster. Now there's a woman who likes to live dangerously.
  4. You're gone, gone, gone away I watched you disappear All that's left is a ghost of you ~ Of Monsters And Men - Little Talks ((Memorial Hall, Holodeck 4, USS Constitution)) She had pushed it away, far away, past the reports and official talks, conversations with crew members but she knew she would have to come. The pictured displayed in this hall were of people, her people, her crew. She shouldn't let them wait for that long. They were important too, no matter if they were alive or dead. To honor them Jalana had dug out her dress uniform, they deserved at least that much. Though she had chosen a time when the memorial hall was not visited by many. In some cultures it was believed that their soul remained and watched over loved ones, in others the essence of people passed on into an afterlife, in again others it just ceased to exist. Jalana didn't know what she believed. As someone who carried the lifetime memories of six more people she carried the believes of them with her too. But she was aware it was not her own. She would have liked to think that a piece of them would remain with others, any maybe in a way they did. Remaining in memories and in the heart of those whose path they had crossed was like that in a way was it not? 'As long as we remember a person, they're not really gone. Their thoughts, their feelings, their memories, they become a part of us.' She had heard these words during her Academy time when holding a memorial for a cadet who had passed surprisingly. It was what she liked to believe. But she was aware it was not shared by everyone. and she respected that. The Trill had informed herself about different traditions for memorials like these, trying to honor each fallen crew member in a way they would honor their own. She had visited the memorial for Horm first and placed one of his prized possessions next to his picture. It was a small trophy, it was nothing special, nothing big. But one of the children had given it to him for helping him with mathematical issues and he had always treasured it. It did not feel appropriate for Jalana to howl to Sto'Vo'Kor for Q'Ren, as her family and closest friends. If anything the soul was in the afterlife already, feasting in the Hall of Warriors. Klingons did not care about the physical remains after the warrior spirit left. So Jalana has stood in silence, holding her gaze on the dark eyes of the woman on the picture. The picture of Syanir Kol looked peaceful and smiling, and she knew that someone would remember her and her memories when her symbiont found a new host. She was relieved that they had been able to determine that the symbiont was unharmed and found a QSD equipped ship to bring Kol to the homeworld. She visited every of the memorials mostly quiet contemplation, sometimes whispering conversation with Zilan, Kylie Willams, S'Ral, Dhelvad and Scrol Ar'el. And now she stood in front of the last one. Doctor Han Soo Mi looked at her with that infectious smile. She had been with her in her last moments and somehow that hit her more than the others, even though they were all equally important. The database had been informative about the customs Soo Mi's family would follow. So Jalana bowed her head and lowered herself to her knees. Placing her hands on the floor before her she bowed down before raising to her feet again. She repeated that two more times before she stood and bowed her head once more and then took one of the white flowers provided in a vase and placed it on the pile with the others already placed in front of the picture. Once she finished her round she stepped to the front of the room, looking from one to the other with a somber expression. Her green eyes meeting their picture's gazes once more. Rajel: You all served well, with honor, with passion and a high sense of duty. It was a pleasure and honor to serve with you. Your stories will be remembered. As of now your service ends and your time to rest has come. ::She swallowed, fighting with the tears welling up in her eyes before adding with a warm undertone.:: You are dismissed. ----- Commodore Jalana Rajel Commanding Officer USS Constitution B Image Team Co-Facilitator A238906JL0Con
  5. Your achievement is acknowledged and your presence agreeable. LLAP \\//,
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