Renos

((Jefferies Tube - Somewhere Between Decks 502 and 503)) ::It was odd, Janick found. Almost every time he'd been assigned a boring, monotonous task such as this previously in his career, he'd considered it a punishment for some wrong-doing he couldn't remember perpetrating. It seemed to him that he'd paid what dues were owed to Starfleet many times over, and in this - the thirty-eighth year of his existence - he deserved better. After the chaos and pandemonium of the last few days, however, it was the menial tasks he craved. Especially the ones stuck down Jefferies tubes, away from supposedly sentient life-forms, panic, destruction and fire. Most definitely fire. All of that was no doubt still occurring, somewhere on the station, but down here in his tube it seemed a thousand miles away.:: ::Out with the old sensor, in with the new one. Connect it up, test it. Rinse, repeat. Clearly an engineering job under normal circumstances, but these were not normal circumstances and it was a fairly simple task. Besides, to be fair to the Lieutenant who'd accosted him, he was wearing the right colour uniform for it and not entirely doing a great deal else. If he wasn't doing this, no doubt fairy-hair would find him something worse, probably with more people. Gertz hadn't heard from 'her' in a while, he realised. He wasn't overly bothered by that.:: ::As he crawled along the tube to the next sensor array, Janick heard a noise up ahead. His first reaction was that of defensive jealousy. This was *his* tube. Whichever engineer thought otherwise could bloody well shove off to another one. His second thought was that of concerned curiosity. What if it was someone, or something, else? Cautiously he approached the bend in the tube, and peered around it. Immediately he retracted his head, and considered what he'd seen. A ferengi, in frankly disgustingly soiled attire, clutching a fabric bag. The back was wriggling. The ferengi, too, was wriggling. Gertz decided to stay where he was, for the time.:: Ferengi: Come to Lenk, me pretties. Come on, all o' ya. You's gonna make Lenk a rich ferengi, yes you is! If Lenk still had a family that could bear to be seen in public with 'im, yous could help Lenk provide fer 'em at last! ::There was a loud clanging, and a shrieking sound.:: Lenk: Oi! No biting Lenk! You's not so valuable that Lenk can't kill one or two of ya ta make a point! ::Janick crept around the corner, trying to steel himself against the smell of the... man? Just as Lenk reached forward for his prey, Gertz decided to announce his presence. The startled vermin (this could feasibly apply to both creatures I suppose but in this instance it applies solely to the ferengi's prey) shrieked and scurried away, causing Lenk to curse, and slam his gloved fist against the wall in annoyance. The ferengi rounded on him, and tried to assume as aggressive a pose as possible considering he was, by necessity, on his hands and knees.:: Lenk: Now look what you done! He was this close! ::The ferengi indicated an exaggeratedly small distance with his thumb and forefinger.:: I almost 'ad 'im, he'd have been me sixth today! Gertz: Your sixth what, exactly? ::Lenk grinned widely, revealing rotting teeth that even Lieutenant Brek would probably have found revolting, and proudly displayed the contents of his cloth bag - carefully - to the petty officer.:: Lenk: Fyra! They went and 'scaped from the labs when the power went. Valuable, they is, if you knows who wants 'em. ::Suddenly, Gertz knew what he'd happened upon. This was a chance, he realised. Unlike the comb-in-the-trashed-hotel-room incident while on shore leave (which due to what he now knew to be careless handling of the evidence had accidentally resulted in implicating nobody but himself), here was a real, actual criminal. He'd be a hero. Starfleet security would be clamouring to transfer him to their ranks. They might even commission him, if he was lucky.:: ::There was just one small problem. While there was no end of evidence of the act being committed, Gertz wasn't entirely sure it was a crime. His instinct (which was probably based more on class - not to mention racial - prejudice than actual experience) told him that it probably was, so in the heat of the moment that would suffice.:: Gertz: Mister, erm- Lenk, is it? ::The ferengi nodded, eagerly.:: Mister Lenk, you leave me no choice but to arrest you for the crime of... er... ::incoherent mumbling::. You are to be remanded in my custody, to be transferred into the welcoming embrace of a Starfleet Security holding cell at *my* convenience, whereby you will be prosecuted to the full extent of Federation Law. What have you have to say for yourself? ::Gertz grinned smugly. He'd never bothered to find out what you were supposed to say upon arresting a criminal, but assumed it would probably be something like that. Upon hearing it, said criminal would then be overcome with regret, remorse, fear or guilt - possibly all four at once - and submit themselves to his will. Lenk showed signs of being overcome with precisely none of those things.:: Lenk: ::Blankly:: ...what? Gertz: ::Gesturing, to help ease the apparent language barrier.:: I'm. Arresting. You. Lenk: ...why? Gertz: ::Mumbling:: Smuggling, theft, vagrancy, or something similar. ::More clearly:: Does it matter? I mean, look at you... ::He would have sniffed in disgust, if he didn't think the sudden odourous onslaught would kill him.:: Lenk: More's the point, look at *you*. No security officer wouldn't be crawlin' around with a bag of tech-stuff. What's that tick thing mean? ::After a moment of confusion, Janick realised the vagrant was referring to his rank insignia.:: Gertz: It means that I am Petty Officer Third Class Janick Gertz, of Starfleet. And you, as I believe I have mentioned, are in my custody. ::The ferengi smirked at him, and much to Gertz' annoyance, remained defiant.:: Lenk: It means you're a volunteer who they don't trust with no real jobs, who 'as to crawl 'round vents all day. And Lenk don't like custard. Gertz: ::Incensed.:: Listen here, I may have been unjustly held back in my career... Maybe I *do* have to crawl around vents all day - not actually true, incidentally. However, at least I'm permitted - nay, required - to do so! You, Mister Lenk, are neither. You are under arrest, whether you like it or not! I demand that you cease your oO possibly Oo illegal activities forthwith, and follow me to a detention cell! ::Gertz' smug grin returned, confident his weighty flourish of authority would have the desired affect. Still the vagabond refused to flinch. Gertz gritted his teeth.:: Lenk: If you wants to arrest me for doing nuffin' wrong, yous gonna have to go get a proper security man. Lenk knows 'ow the chain of command works, see. ::Pointing with a filthy fingerless-gloved hand:: *You* can't do nuffin' to Lenk. ::Gertz's eyes opened wide, and for a while he was uncharacteristically lost for words and knelt in the tube with his mouth agape. He stared at the man incredulously.:: Gertz: Chain... chain of command?! You, of all people?! If you don't bloody well get off your [...] right this second and follow me, I'll go and get the chain of command alright, sunshine. I'll get the bloody thing and beat you to within an inch of your loathesome, Lilliputian, little life, you putrid, pox-ridden, plebeian [...]ant! How dare you question the authority of a Starfleet officer?! Lenk: Non-commissioned Starfleet officer... Gertz: ::His face reddening with wrath:: I'll have you know, there are THREE crewmen below me, who report DIRECTLY TO ME. They're bloody useless, I can't find them half the time, and I don't even know one of their forenames, but they report to ME oO sometimes Oo! Which makes me significantly more important than the likes of you, you bloody filth-encrusted, foul-smelling, f-f-f-f- Lenk: Now, now, that sort o' language isn't really becomin' of such an important Starfleet officer, is it? ::What happened next was not Janick Gertz' finest hour. If there were a collection of Gertz' proudest moments in Starfleet, this would not even make the director's cut (and let's face it, we'd be struggling for content as it was). It also wasn't entirely Janick's doing. For several moments, as his fist began the lightning-quick journey towards the ferengi's foetid face Janick could not account for it's whereabouts. All he knew was, after impact, his hand hurt. But not half as much as the Ferengi's cheek. Were he a more violent man, or even were he still in his youth, he might have reflected upon this moment with an air of triumph and victory and remark that it was "a hell of a left hook". However, Janick Gertz was not a more violent man, and certainly was not still in his youth. So upon seeing the Ferengi's head bounce off the wall of the Jefferies tube, he collected his bag of sensors - both old and new mixed together in his haste - and crawled away from the scene. Very swiftly.:: oO He's not dead. Just sleeping. Just sleeping. He headbutted my fist, there was nothing I could do to stop it. Nothing at all. And even if there was, I wouldn't have. Shouldn't have been... doing that... crime thing. He was definitely doing crime, of some sort... Oo TBC! -------------------------- PO3 Janick Gertz Operations Lackey/Crime-fighting Superhero Starbase 118PO3 Janick Gertz - Hammer Of Justice Simmed by Necessity James

Thanks. I had an insane amount of fun writing it. Penny was spot on with everything. It was just great!

Wow LOTS of new ensigns! Congratulations to you all. Welcome to the fleet!

Congratulations and welcome to the fleet

Wow, thats really interesting. It would definately be quite cool to updates this along the lines suggested and have it on the wiki.

Congrats on passing the academy and welcome to the fleet.

Welcome welcome. Great to have you with us.

Congrats on passing the academy and welcome aboard.

Congratulations all and welcome to the fleet

Congrats on finishing the academy. Good to have you with us.

Welcome all, glad to have you with us.

Welcome and welcome back! Good to have you both with us.

I guess the answer to that depends upon how the judging panel works. If it is the case that the judges just read the sims, choose the one they think is the top sim and then vote on that, then they are doing nothing very different to whats being done now, except that there are fewer opinions in the equation. If however you are reading them sims and having a discussion about it then this is more time consuming. You must first read and decide which sim you think is the best and then justify it. The part that takes the extra time is that you must also take into consideration the others points. There is debate, and you may need to go back and look at things again. This is a good thing in a way, but more time consuming. It also depends on the judges themselves. If judges are simply selected from a random group of volunteers or whatever. People naturally have their preferences - some like action, some like mystery, others romance. Any panel of judges would need to be as fair as possible. For example. I believe the judges of the writing challenge produce good, high quality sims themselves. They are experienced and have been in the community long enough to tell a good sim from a bad or average one. We would need a panel like that. (That limits the pool of volunteers a bit.) I do believe that most people read all the sims before they vote, I believe that people who vote in the competition are actually interested in it and the sims that are nominated. There may be the odd person who only reads one or some of them and then votes but overall I think the majority will read them all. They don't all come in at once, they come in dribs and drabs over the course of the round. If you check in regularly it's easier and more manageable to keep up to date with whats been nominated. At the end of the day, the more people who get involved and take an interest in the competition then the less impact any little things like that would have overall.

I think Malcolm has a fair point and considering how many entries there are to some rounds of the top sims i'm in agreement that it would be too much work to do a judges panel for every round. I don't agree with ballot stuffing, I think the best sim from any round should win. I can understand the point about crew unintentionally stuffing the ballots but as I have gone through the rounds I feel that the votes (from all crews) have been spread out between all entries. I think, at least for the vast majority, people are in keeping with the spirit of the competition. I can't think of a single person who would try to stuff the ballots. I don't know why more people don't take an interest in and vote for the top sims. Perhaps a bit of PR, maybe a news snippet and a OOC point at it would draw people's attention to the fact it exists. I remember telling someone on my crew once that I liked their sim so much that I put it up for top sim and they had no idea what I was talking about. I think the first thing to try is to get activity up. I don't know what other ships do, but we often put out reminders to check out the top sims for whatever round is on, places of note of the forums, whatever it may be and it seems to be working as many have pointed out - we have an active crew, I think when you have people who are enthusiastic about these things it spreads around. I like the current system. I like the fact that the people choose. We have judges doing the writing challenges, so to have the two competitions and the 2 systems is great in my opinion. There might be the odd person who would be inclined to vote tactically, I believe they really are in the minority, the more people who actually got involved the less of a problem there would be all round.

Congrats and welcome to the fleet!

Congratulations guys, welcome to the fleet!

OOC: Thanks to Zonhar for coming up with the pretty title "Awaken, from dreary night newly shaken, and squeeze the hand of faithful few." -Jason Kelly 2011 IC: ((ICU ward, Sickbay)) oO What is that wretched beeping? Oo :: It had been going on for what seemed like hours, refusing to allow him to remain sleeping, when that was all he wanted to do. He reached out in the darkness, aiming for his bedside table to smack his alarm off. His hand met with nothing but air and he was instead assaulted by a searing pain shooting through his chest. Lord, his right side was killing him:: ::Voices echoed around him. He caught odd words like ‘ventilator’ and ‘dexalin’ and ‘rexlin’ and wondered if he’d dozed off in one of his pathology classes again, but that wouldn’t explain the beeping:: ::He felt a warm hand on his forehead and it was soon joined by a soft voice, but it was fuzzy, he couldn’t understand what she was saying, not that it mattered much. He was being dragged back into sleep and found no reason to fight it:: ::There was that beeping again. And someone had apparently placed a fifty pound weight on his chest while he’d slept. He was too old for these pranks. He tired to sit up but found his lack of breath made it rather difficult. He tried for a deep inhale and was stopped by a sharp pain. Lord, his right side was killing him. All sorts of pokey things were pulling at his arm. He scratched at it, the movement causing him to jerk away in pain. Oh, what was the point? He let his head sink back into his pillow and he drifted back to sleep:: ::That voice was back again. She kept asking for someone – it was a familiar name.::: Voice: Davies, do you know where you are? ::He was sleeping soundly in his quarters. Or trying to sleep, rather. The real question was what she was doing there. He recognized the voice but couldn’t put a name to it. He knew though, she didn’t belong in his bedroom. But, since she was there, she could bring him some water. His throat was on fire:: Voice: Davies, do you remember what happened? :: What was she on about? He opened his eyes and tried to focus on the blurry blue figure in front of him. He tried to blink the image into focus but wasn’t having much luck, and though it was blurry, the room surrounding her was distinctly NOT his quarters. He squinted at her and tried to swallow against his dry throat:: ::There was that beeping sound again, only now it was faster. He attempted to sit up but a cough bubbled up in his throat and had him doubled over in pain. His side was killing him. Hands were on his shoulders, rubbing gently. Her name suddenly popped into his head:: oO Jen Oo Malcolm: Davies, it’s all right. You’re in Sickbay. ::No wonder it didn’t look like his room. He laid back against the pillows and watched as she moved away from him. Panic swelled in his chest and he reached out, catching her hand in his own:: Davies: Wait. Don’t leave me here. ::She gave his hand a squeeze:: Malcolm: I’m not going anywhere. ::The beeping slowed again and he closed his eyes. He tightened his hold on her fingers, just incase she forgot to stay:: TBC… Ensign Christopher Davies Medical officer/pathologist USS Avandar simmed by Lt. Jen Malcolm