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Renos

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Posts posted by Renos

  1. ((Conference Room 1, USS Blackwell))

    R’Ven: Greetings Commander.

    ::Shayne’s wide eyes jumped off the PADD he was scouring as Merrick spoke to him. When he was but a boy, the mere mention of his name, in any tone or volume of voice, would elicit a serious startle from him. Even if it was expected, he would snap to attention, face taught and body primed to face the non-existent predators. To the present day, he hated roll calls.::

    ::He hadn’t meant to ignore the men already in conversation- chit chat and work rarely mixed well, especially for him. Besides, why intrude upon their discussion? Looking up at Merrick, he realized that no matter how often he saw the first officer, he’d likely never get used to those pitch black orbs of flesh. He was never certain if R’Ven was staring at him directly, and though he hated to admit it, it was subconsciously highly uncomfortable. He seemed blind, and visually able, at the same time. It didn’t help that he considered it only polite to bore into his target of attention with those same unsettling eyes.::

    ::He afforded a quick, but respectful nod in R’Ven’s direction.::

    Shayne: Hello, sir.

    ::As the door opened with its characteristic swoosh, and diverted the attention of the officers in the room, Shayne returned to his PADD. He’d insisted that damage control reports regarding not just the helm, but the entire effort, be routed to his device. If there was one thing he craved at the moment, it was a clear picture of the entire vessel- every nook, cranny, EPS conduit, relay, isolinear chip, potted plant. Was he becoming paranoid? It was a valid question- indeed, he had now served on not one, not two, but three starships that had suffered critical failures in crucial moments. The first incident dated back years, to 2392. Aboard the Gemini, he had nearly been relieved of his existence when a subspace rift had utterly deprived the Dakota class medium cruiser of power. Ensign Shayne had barely survived an unfortunate encounter with an open shuttlebay hanger- an experience that haunted him to his core even in the present day. The next incident came in the form of a most malicious computer virus, placed in the Darwin’s systems by the treasonous scumbag Iy in a long game of deception. Just when they’d been needed most, the shields had failed. Shayne had done his best in the ensuing close quarters combat, but he knew that without the now-transferred Logan’s excellent weapon’s skills, they would have all been worse off. Looking back, when the action had been taking place, he was caught between painfully excited and indomitably tranquil. It was the following days, weeks and months that had hit him the hardest. To try your best- to send your starship flinging through the stars in maneuvers so complex and deadly and random that they often defied intention- and to still feel countless groaning shudders as weapons fire smashed through the reinforced tritanium, and realizing that every blow was likely the end of the line for some crewman, technician, officer...it was nightmarish.::

    ::He trusted the engineers of Starfleet implicitly, but patterns could not be ignored. Or could it be his fault? Was he simply a magnet for this kind of trouble? Would he forever bring bad luck, on whatever ship he served aboard? His imagination was a wild, mad, even dangerous place, where magic could exist, the Chicago Cubs still played, and the Federation hadn’t lost 39 starships at Wolf 359. But he had only craved a concrete answer to a question more once in his life. Not only was his own burning curiosity unstated, but he would now have to pass on that general lack of fulfilment to a captain that needed just the opposite now.::

    ::Every few seconds, his screen updated with the findings of the engineering team, and each time he looked at the changes with a tiny surge of hope. Perhaps this report would explain what had gone wrong. Maybe the next one would shed some light on the subject. Each time, though, he was disappointed.::

    ::Whether he wished to admit it or not, he was at least somewhat experienced as an officer of Starfleet. He had racked his brains whenever the mission to retrieve the core had allowed it. What could spontaneously cause an entire subsystem to freeze? Past events had taught him that the symptoms most accurately fitted a computer virus of some sort. But that didn’t follow far. The only other time he’d been involved in such a situation, the assailant had been aboard for more than a year. He refused to point fingers at comrades- that sort of thinking would descend them into chaos with dispatch. But as he strained for answers, he kept coming back to the same conclusion. Perhaps it was entirely wrong. He hoped so. He was really getting sick of sabotage.::

    ::Another change on the screen, and as with all the others, Shayne looked at it, not expecting anything of interest or benefit at all. After a moment, he squinted and looked closer. Some ensign belowdecks was reporting an EPS conduit that had been locked off, apparently on its own volition. That was not surprising in and of itself- the devices, so crucial to the functionality of the starship, were programmed to lock down should a surge of electro plasma be detected. Such things had occurred all over the ship as a result of Mr. Wilmer’s inventive solution. What was surprising was that it was the only locked down conduit for four decks in either direction. Conduits most often shut down in packs. So why would this lone device be affected? He resolved to keep an even closer eye on the developing reports.::

    ::The ambient conversations and semi-constant opening and closing of the doors had melded into the background of his mind, and he did not realize that the meeting was being called to order until he noticed the lack of white noise, and the standing personnel round the table. Shayne immediately joined his colleagues as Zaekia and Renos took their seats.::

    Zaekia: Alight. Thank you all for attending. I appreciate we’ve all just been through quite the ordeal but we need answers. We need to know this vessel is fit for purpose and won’t let us down again like it has here today.

    ::Shayne could feel the bitterness in the CO’s voice, and he wondered if the blue-skinned man was really talking about the crew. Or himself. He doubted it, but the resentment was plain, and who could blame him? How unfair was it that the good-intentioned confidant could not act on the unexpressed feelings of another without looking like a fool?::

    R’Ven: Yes Captain. To that end I have had each of the department chiefs compile reports of the current state of their department and how it applies to the current state of the ship.

    ::At that, the helmsman gave a very small cough and rubbed the back of his neck. He rarely enjoyed speaking in large groups, and almost never enjoyed reporting personally to his superior. But even then, he had something to report. The lack of information here would be painfully conspicuous.::

    Zaekia: Engineering, let’s start with you. How bad is the damage and how long will it take us to complete repairs?

    Yesna: The damage is not as bad as first thought engines can be back up within the next couple of hours and the deflector will take around five hours to get it back up and running, but when we do return to a space dock I would recommend a full replacement. The power systems will need a few tweaks and bypass as we fix the dish. We could do all this with the help of the Consortium within 12 hours and we can be underway again.

    ::Shayne agreed with the engineer’s assessment, given the reports he continued to receive. However, the mention of Consortium assistance rankled, and for more reason than simply wounded pride. Being towed back to a drydock by a non-Starfleet vessel had stripped him of much of his already. No, his bigger concern was the ongoing investigation. The Consortium, Shayne felt, was highly untrustworthy. After seeing their conduct during the previous mission, he could not help but dislike them. First, their distaste for life was repulsive. And their robots, which had caused more than their fair share of havoc aboard the Atlantis, were provided to the crew by the Consortium. They seemed...disingenuous. Greasy. And very dangerous. True, the tow had been of great help, and Captain Dar, who Shayne had first considered to be a bit of a schmuck, was eventually highly accommodating. But he knew better than to let a single positive experience color his judgement.::

    Zaekia: I know but we need their help, Admiral.

    ::Shayne looked up, confused. It seemed Zaekia was reprising his strange behavior that had first debuted on the bridge before Blackwell had sustained her damage. There, too, he was overheard replying to questions no one had asked. Shayne had inquired about it, but the captain had given every indication that he was perfectly well, and there was a fine line between asking out of concern and doubting the CO’s ability to function. He was careful not to cross that line then, but now, he reconsidered. On the bridge, it had been a little easier to ignore. Now, though, with the entire senior staff hanging onto his words and reactions, it became impossible to hide. Shayne’s eyes flipped to Merrick’s, which, if he was correct, were staring intensely at Zaekia. Good- at least Shayne wasn’t hearing things. But the question was, could the same be said for Zaekia?::

    Zaekia: ::Clearing his throat and turning slightly deeper blue about the cheeks:: Sorry. Alright, let’s move on. I think we have a pretty good sense of where the ship is at right now and what sort of repairs timeline we’re looking at. Thank you Ensign Yesna. How are things going with regards to the investigation into what happened?

    ::Shayne knew that it was his turn to speak. Standing, he cleared his throat.::

    Shayne: Sirs, so far, the results of the investigation regarding the difficulties at the helm are...less than conclusive. We’ve looked at mechanical fault of all kinds. We’ve even...

    ::Here, he gave an apologetic glance over at Wilmer. He hated to say it, but it was a formal report- it was his duty.::

    Shayne: oO Forgive me, Nate. Oo

    Shayne: We’ve even considered pilot error. So far, nothing has turned up. But I’ve got a team on it- they’re going to look until they find the problem.

     

    ::In the beginning, they’d had several working theories, each one slightly less likely than the last. But as damage control had made its way through the ship, repairing and reporting, one by one, those possibilities dropped away. It was as frustrating as it was helpful.::

    ::He tried to keep a stolid face as he beheld the captain's and admiral’s reaction to the news. This wasn’t a Klingon ship- he wouldn’t be shot for not producing the relevant information, or thrown in the brig. But sometimes, a look of disappointment from someone you admire is worse than any corporal punishment. Thoran then began to speak, and Shayne was grateful to the lieutenant for his timely intervention.::

    Thoran: Response(s)

    ::A pause. Shayne utilized the moment to again check the PADD. It appeared the engineer that had reported the strange EPS conduit was having some difficulty in reopening it. Curious. Though he’d like to know what the problem was, he had more pressing matters to attend to.::

    R’Ven: Captain, I would like to ask a few question to make the situation a little more clear?

    ::Shayne didn’t know which of his thoughts to acknowledge first. Certainly he was not looking forward to more questioning from anyone, but that was a personal failing- one he would overcome by offering whatever information was required. The manner in which R’Ven had asked the question also captured his attention. The executive officer would be exercising his role as the captain’s right-hand man by following up with questions. Maybe he was simply being formal, but Shayne felt there was something more. There was grave respect in Merrick’s bearing. And then it became clear. The opaque-eyed Rodulan was trying to protect an already frazzled Zaekia. Such a subtle attempt to help was his way of letting Zaekia know this was not an attack against his authority, but in fact a protective measure, to take the pressure off his beleaguered superior. He almost smiled in wonder. Human nature in action. Though, since this was taking place between a Kalean and a Rodulan, that term hardly applied. Still, it was fascinating, and most welcome, given the circumstances.::

    Zaekia: Response

    R’Ven: Thank You.

    ::With a small bow, R’Ven focused back on the officers that remained standing.::

    R’Ven: Commander Shayne, Lieutenant Thoran and Ensign Yesna, your accounts are thorough. Thank you. ::without pause Merrick turned to Yesna:: However to add one additional point. Ensign, I had also asked you to look into any sort of unauthorized access to our systems. Were you able to find anything?

    Yesna: Response

    ::Shayne’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, though he tried to hide it. As second officer, he no longer had the luxury of appearing dismayed or unsure, no matter how prevalent the feelings might be within him. However, he flicked his gaze about, catching his comrade’s reactions to the news. An unauthorized entry into a system was an enormous deal, and it all but proved that his earlier suspicions had been warranted.::

    R’Ven: And were you able to determine the source?

    ::Shayne listened intently. As Yesna explained, he glanced over at Thoran. This would change the tide of their investigation. At least now they would have a place to base their efforts from.::

    Yesna: Response

    R’Ven: Thank you Ensign I appreciate your efforts in this regard.

    ::Merrick now turned his never-ending gaze towards Shayne and Thoran. For some reason, even though he’d found the first officer’s eyes exceptionally disconcerting, as he looked back at them now, he realized he didn’t feel quite the same about it. Maybe it was something to do with they eyes themselves- he didn’t see the cornea directed at him. They barely even registered as eyes to him. That, perhaps combined with the fact that Merrick was of slightly lower rank, served to place the helmsman a little more at ease.::

    R’Ven: Commander Shayne, Lietenant Thoran. There was an event that happened on the Atlantis. Is it possible that these events could have been connected?

    ::Shayne froze, mind suddenly leaping a million miles a minute. The memories of that terrible day came flooding back- the robots, springing from their hiding place, the gruesome injuries they imposed on several members of the crew, the subsequent hunt for them. Though he knew better than to underestimate the abilities of the machines, his immediate reaction to R’Ven’s question was “no.” How could there be any relation? The robots had been aboard theAtlantis, and hadn’t had any physical contact with theBlackwell. True, one robot had been found with its probe in a bulkhead, downloading what seemed to be the entirety of the Federation database into its own memory. But, again, how would that connect to theBlackwell?::

    ::Unless…::

    Shayne: ::Murmuring in horror:: Oh, my god.

    ::Quickly, he turned to Thoran, realization and terror filling his gaze.::

    Shayne: When you were chasing that robot on the Atlantis, it was on Deck 6- auxiliary control, correct?

    Thoran: response

    ::The theory was coming together in chunks. It was beautifully insideous.::

    Shayne: You said something about it perhaps trying to transmit its data to whoever had designed it. What if you were half right? What if it was transmitting something, but not to its creator? Do you get what I’m saying?

    ::If his supposition turned out to be in any way true, they were lucky to be alive.:: 

    Thoran: response

    ::Shayne looked back down at his PADD. The conduit he’d been paying such close attention to was back online- obviously the engineer had finally been successful. But now he had more important matters to consider.::

    Zaekia/Renos: Response

    Rhyn: response

    Anyone: response

    Tag/TBC…

    Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne
    Helmsman/Ops Officer/Second Officer
    USS Blackwell
    NCC 58999
    G239202RS0

     

    • Like 1
  2. ((USS Blackwell, Conference Room 1))

     

    ::Ensign Verato Sarjak sat up straight in his chair, hands clasped before him on top of the table in the Conference Room aboard the USS Blackwell. Around him all the officers sat, waiting for the Admiral and Captain to show up and address them. It was a dicey situation they all found themselves in. One in which he himself was admittedly curious to see how it all played out.::

     

    Verato: oOIt’s a deadly game we all play out here on the outskirts of space, isn’t it Verato?  It’s a dangerous balancing act of the will and mind, of truth and lies, of war and peace out here on the frontier of it all? So much more exciting than playing it safe wouldn’t you think Verato?Oo

     

    ::Just then the conference room doors finally slid open, snapping him back to reality as Captain Zaekia and Admiral Renos entered the briefing room together. As they sat at the head of the table, Verato shifted his full attention away from his  personal demons back to the grim matters at hand.::

     

    Zaekia: Alight. Thank you all for attending. I appreciate we’ve all just been through quite the ordeal but we need answers. We need to know this vessel is fit for purpose and won’t let us down again like it has here today.

     

    R’Ven: response

     

    Zaekia: Engineering, let’s start with you. How bad is the damage and how long will it take us to complete repairs?

     

    Yesna: ::Studying her notes::The damage is not as bad as first thought engines can be back up within the next couple of hours and the deflector will take around five hours to get it back up and running, but when we do return to a space dock I would recommend a full replacement. The power systems will need a few tweaks and bypass as we fix the dish. We could do all this with the help of the Consortium within 12 hours and we can be underway again.

     

    ::Verato did not think highly of the Consortium. Truly, he never had. But no matter how swift and charitable the Consortium might prove to be in helping repair the Blackwell, even the vaguest whiffs of undesirable intent he and the others had experienced thus far, was enough to put him on edge. Afterall, it was in Verato’s experience that such gestures, though sometimes noble enough in appearance, often times came with much more costly and unspoken price tags than one could easily afford.::

     

    Verato: oOThen again, when one makes a deal with the ‘devil,’ it often doesn’t end well for the soul. Isn’t that right ,‘Old Friend?’Oo

     

    ::A grumble in his gut and a sour taste in his mouth were the only responses he received or needed.::

     

    ::The Admiral appeared to sour at this news slightly, but then Captain Zaekia peculiarly responded, as if somehow aware of nirs thinking on the matter.::

     

    Zaekia: I know but we need their help, Admiral.

     

    ::Looking around slightly at some of the other officer's faces, he wondered if any others had found this a bit odd. He wasn’t sure what to make of it frankly. There was a beat of silence between the two highest ranking officers, before the Captain cleared his throat again and carried on with the briefing, perhaps a bit bluer ‘around the gills’ for whatever had just transpired.::

     

    Zaekia: Sorry. Alright, let’s move on. I think we have a pretty good sense of where the ship is at right now and what sort of repairs timeline we’re looking at. Thank you, Ensign Yesna. How are things going with regards to the investigation into what happened?

     

    ::As he listened, Verato nevertheless felt that same gently irreverent tug at the back of his own craw that reminded him of the events at the product launch. He had not heard back from the mysterious young researcher Shalena yet. In truth, he wondered if he ever would. Perhaps she was not as eager to speak with Starfleet as he had surmised. Or, worse yet, maybe something unpleasant had happened once they had been summoned back by the Captain to regroup. Either way, he had seen no sign of her and his personal comm had had no message awaiting him. It was something deeply troubling to him nonetheless.::

     

    Shayne/Thoran: Response(s)

     

    R’Ven: Response

     

    ::Listening to the others report, Verato wondered even more than ever what the next plan of attack would be moving forward. Suddenly, blinking his eyes at that last notion, he realized the thought struck him too as a bit odd.

     

    Verato: oOHere you are Verato, a diplomat, an envoy of peace, sitting here awaiting a new strategy of ‘attack,’ a new angle to work and win over your enemy. Maybe there really is more of Sar Jonn to your personality now than you realize. Perhaps one way or another,  no matter what we truly desire, we always find ourselves casting lots for our fortune and grasping at scraps of fate like spare rags. Perhaps you are no longer your own Verato. perhaps you never were. Perhaps none of us ever truly are.Oo

     

    TAGS ANY


    TBC

     

    ----------------------------------------

    Ensign Verato Sarjak

    Diplomatic Officer

    USS Blackwell NCC-58999

    Andaris Task Force

    A239403LA0

  3. ((Security Complex, Deck 11, USS Blackwell))

     
    Thoran: Three...two…one
     
    ::He swung round, charging into the room. Like most of the security complex, the room was filled with a dim blue hue. In the centre of the room was a moderately sized table, surrounded by seven orange coloured chairs, which Jarred knew from experience were not the most comfortable. Entering the room he found Chief Raewa and Crewman Dairro facing off against Crewman Vesen, a male Vulcan, currently positioned next to the window at the opposite end of the briefing room. As they turned to face Jarred, Vesen took the opportunity to flee, vaulted across the table and knocking Jarred out of the way.::
     
    Raewa: ::Shouting:: Get after 'im. 'e's not 'imself
     
    ::Although suffering from a serious case of what the hell, Jarred turned heel and chased after the Vulcan. It was short lived chase, as Raewa dashed passed him, and with all his might launched himself at Vesen, with all the elegance and graze of a hippo, tackling Vesen to the ground.::
     
    ::Vesen was the stronger and arguably fitter of the two, but Raewa, having been involved in more than a fair share of fights deftly overpowered the Vulcan with a couple of well placed firm fists to the face, knocking him unconscious. Dusting himself off as he rose, he turned to Jarred.::
     
    Thoran: ::Agast at what he had just witnessed:: Chief, what is going on? What was all that about?
     
    ::He could just imagine filling out the report now.::
     
    oO I stood by whilst the senior enlisted in security beat the recent transfer into submission. Oo
     
    ::Dairro tapped him lightly on the shoulder. Jarred half turned, half twisted to her, finding a weak, disarming smile across her face.::
     
    Dairro: We’re not quite sure exactly what happened sir. The Chief, Vesen and I were just at our stations when all of a sudden.
     
    Raewa: 'e started askin' if we could 'ear a drum beat. So I tell 'im nah, can't 'ear aahhht.
     
    Dairro: He seemed to get quite flustered, started talking about snake eyes and a horde of monkeys. 
     
    Raewa: Said summit abaht everythin' will revert ter normal once the game is finished.
     
    Dairro: All of a sudden he blurted out the name Alan and a lion and rushed into the briefing room.
     
    ::Jarred was finding it hard to keep up with the rendition of events. Vesen had only recently transferred to security from ops, but had a flawless service record and came highly recommended. Adding to that, he was a Vulcan and they weren’t supposed to feel, were they? And definitely not act like this, something strange was going on.::
     
    Thoran: Did he do anything out of character or different before he started to talk about the drums? Neither of you heard anything at all?
     
    Raewa: ::Looking across to Dairro:: Nah sir. We were just sat 'ere, busyin' ourselves. Only sound we could 'ear was these consoles buzzin' away.
     
    ::Rubbing his face, Jarred thought it over. It was definitely going to make for one of his more interesting reports. In the meantime he had to do something about Vesen before he came to and caused himself or others any harm.::
     
    Thoran: Thank you both very much. Chief, could you give me a hand taking him to sickbay. Dairro, keep an eye on things here, let me know if anything else like this happens across the ship.
     
    ::Raewa and Jarred sidled over to were Vesen lay, and very carefully heaved him up, supporting him between them, his head flopping onto his chest. With his feet dragged behind him, the pair slowly half carried, half dragged Vesen out of the complex, along the corridor and to the nearest turbolift. With a swish the doors opened allowing them entry to the turbolift.::
     
    Thoran: Sickbay, deck 18.
     
    ::Jarred eased himself against the wall, his shoulders and arms feeling like fire after carrying Vesen and let out a sigh. The Chief shot him a look. It was the disapproving look most officers got from senior enlisted crew.::
     
    Raewa: If I 'adn't of, 'e could 'ave ended up runnin' 'round 'is quarters chasin' lions.
     
    ((Primary Sickbay, Deck 18, USS Blackwell))
     
    ::Jarred snorted at the remark. From what he had already been told, he wouldn’t have been too surprised if that had been the next development. Jarred closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before hauling himself back up with Vesen. The doors to the turbolift opened and the pair continued on their march to sick bay. Several crew watched as they stumbled by, Jarred now starting to get out of breath. Reaching sickbay one of the nurses directed them to a bed, which with a one two three the pair were able to heave Vesen onto. A few moments later, the nurse joined them, medical tricorder in hand and started making circles about Vesen’s head with it.::
     
    Nurse: What has happened here?
     
    Thoran: I’ll leave Chief Raewa here to fill you in. Thank you nurse and ::Turning to Raewa, patting him on the shoulder.:: Thank you for your uh assistance Chief.
     
    --------------------------------
     
    Lieutenant Jarred Thoran
    Acting Chief of Security
    Andaris Task Force, USS Blackwell NCC-58999
    A239405JT0
    • Thanks 1
  4. G’Renn: Well Mr. Wilmer, it seems that removing that metal fragment may have been meaningless. But something tells me the captain has a plan.

    ::Though Nate would never acknowledge their imminent doom verbally, part of him wondered if perhaps her fears in this matter were not unfounded. One minute thirty seconds was not enough time to get back to Charlie, to tell her that he loved her. He would not be able to send a message to Kael to tell her to grow up to be an honorable young woman—though he had no doubt she would.::

    ::Nate had only enough time before their explosive porkchop filled doom, to rest a comforting hand on G’Renn’s shoulder and offer the only hope he had left.::

    Wilmer: Zaekia’s a Starfleet captain. They always have something up their sleeve.

    • Like 2
  5. Dar: =/\= We can send engineers to help. We do know a thing or two about warp cores=/\=

    Zaekia:  =/\= That would be appreciated but don’t put yourselves at unnecessary risk. =/\=

    ::Caring for the welfare of others to the last. Now that was a Starfleet captain.::

    Computer: Warp core breach in one minute thirty seconds.

    ::Threatening to detonate in an absurdly short amount of time. Now that was a Starfleet vessel.::

    • Like 2
  6. ((This is aMSPNPC post by @Kurt Logan and I think it is absolutely fantastic. One of his best sims! Very well done :D ))

     

    ((Par'tha Expanse, Beta Quadrant, Burellion, Consortium Head Quaters))


    ::It was far to sweet and far to bubbly for her tastes but Carna kept sipping the drink the hosts had called 'Champagne' when ever one of them walked past. Fortunately she didn't have to do it for much longer as various waiting staff were already moving round the room with trays of replacement drinks::

    ::As the waiter moved past Carna caught his eye causing a knowing half smile to form on his face. His tray was almost filled with half drunk glasses of Champagne and a couple of replacement drinks, placing her glass on the tray she selected a locally made fruit punch which her taste buds had far more liking towards::

    ::Gazing around the room after the conversation she had been a part of drifted away naturally, Carna spotted others from various companies all here for this Consortiums launch night. They had relocated to the Expanse wishing to open up new areas of trade, after the inhabitants dealings with the Romulans it was a healthy change to have people also from outside Expanse wishing to be a part of and not dominate this region of space and the people within it::

    ::Guests were now starting to gaze out of the floor to ceiling window now daylight had faded, that wasn't accurate as the Red Giant that Burellion orbited around gave it almost blinding light during the day. That dropped to what most would call daylight after the sun set, and at night the red glow of the sky kept the planets night at a twilight level::

    ::Arriving earlier Carna was thankful for her peoples adaptation to their own planet, as just as here her planet was subject to blinding daylight. However they didn't have a Red Dwarf to blame but radiation in the upper atmosphere that multiplied the light from their sun. Over their evolution they had developed a third eye lid that acted to filter the light of even the brightest day thus alleviating the problem::

    :: If the physiology of the Vulcan's had been known to her she would have been fascinated by that similarity between the races. Being a Doctor had long been her dream but unfortunately Medical school proved that was not to be, however a transfer to 'Provisions' while not having the glamour or respect of a qualified Doctor did mean that the Medical field was still at her finger tips::

    ::Walking over to the almost floor to ceiling windows that lined the outside of the lounge they were all in, she looked out over the vast landscape of buildings that made up the Consortiums grounds. A true triumph of Burellion architecture as well as efficient building practices had this whole complex up and running in a matter of months::

    Carna oO Maybe I should talk to them about other areas and not just Pharmaceuticals Oo

    ::The window she stopped at showed a ghostly shadow of herself as she looked out, the light red colour of her skin which along with her protective eyelids were a gift of her planets radiation::

    ::She had seen the full extent of the complex as she was shuttled in earlier in the day along side the other representatives for the negotiations tomorrow when the Consortium official began trading. This time no one was against anyone else, trying bargain someone out of a deal. There was no finite resource to play for, Carna wasn't stupid and did realise that no resource was infinite but on this occasion she didn't have to bet against others mearly represent House Larokon::

    ::Of course that didn't mean she couldn't spoil the waters for them as coming out of this obtaining the drug treatments that the Consortium produced, which were massively ahead of anyone else in the Expanse, with a good deal was one thing. Having a better deal than the rest especially House Tadere well that was the best win of all, and she had succeeded far more often than she had failed::

    ::Three new arrivals caught her attention and all three were wearing the same uniform::

    Carna oO Federation, Star Fleet. Are they here to buy or just watch Oo

    ::She had heard of them, seen reports and been told stories regarding them but she had never seen any of them till now. The pale one of the three appeared to be in charge with the way he spoke first and introduced the other two. A blue skinned female and a dark haired human made up the trio, at the moment they were not in her sights or her concern a Consortium manager was. Turning on her warm smile Carna walked her high heeled shoes in his direction, her Burellion styled business suit cut to accentuate her toned physique and above average height::

    ::To some trading on your looks was shallow but to Carna what ever advantage she could get was worth getting. Standing close to the Consortium Manager she cast a quick eye across to the Federation trio then turned her full attention to the Manager, which during the conversation she managed to drop a few tit bits of information against House Tadere::



    Malan Carna
    House Larokon Representative
    Pharmaceutical Division
    Chief Negotiator and Buyer

    As simmed by

    Ensign Kurt Logan – Security/Tactical Officer
    USS Blackwell, NCC-58999
    E239203KL0

    • Like 1
  7. Thank you @Wilmer for this amazing post. I greatly enjoyed getting to learn more about Charlotte.

     

    ((Wilmer’s Quarters, Deck 7, USS Blackwell))

     

    ::It had been a fairly short walk from the transporter to their assigned quarters, at least it had felt as such. Charlotte had been so eager to get home to their new ship, that each step had taken less and less toll on her, and of course, journeys were never so bad when someone else was carrying your luggage.::

     

    ::The quarters, were much to her satisfaction, quite adequate. Like usual, Starfleet had drab highlights of gray metal walls and chrome finish. There were all the things that one would expect, a replicator, an ample sized full bed, a couch, a coffee table, and wall monitor for communications, both inter-ship and external.::

     

    ::She did very much enjoy the way her touch was influencing their soon-to-be mutual quarters. Nate’s accent pieces were all memories from the old days, photographs, books, memorabilia, model starships and the like. However, Charlotte had brought with her, several antique old English clocks, and fine pieces.::

     

    ::There was a genuine Louis the 14th chair, complete with gilded armrests and royal red upholstery. This had been a wedding gift from her adoptive mother. Nate’s mother, on the other hand, had given as a wedding present a pram. Charlotte could not tell if this had been a suggestive joke, or more at a stab at her son for already having a child out of wedlock.::

     

    ::Nate’s father had been raised by Vulcans, and his mother had been so uptight and conservative that she might as well have been Vulcan herself. Neither one of them had liked Charlotte very much. On one occasion Nate’s father had even tried to get Charlotte arrested by Federation authorities. But that had been a long time ago.::

     

    ::Charlotte began unpacking and had started by throwing a couple of pillows onto the couch. The pillows themselves were new but retro in design, something out of old the Earth style; complete with 1960’s geometric designs on them. She lit a Vulcan incense stick, and put on some music, something the computer had selected completely at random. It was Bajoran, not that she minded.::

     

    ::It hadn’t take long to unpack the furniture. It would take forever to put away all of her clothes. If only that helpful young crew person who had carried her luggage could have stayed and helped her put away her things. But alas, this was not a luxury liner, nor was it likely to cater to her every whim.::

     

    ::Nate had begun to have an effect on her, ever since she proposed to him last year. She had always decided that she would determine the time and place of their engagement, and now, after years of picking the wrong path for herself, life with Nate just seemed right.::

     

    ::It had taken her forever to get passed her own stubborn headed bossy nature. It had taken even longer than that for her to realize that she was still in love with him. Now all that remained was for Charlotte to find an appropriate wedding dress in ships stores, and her work was done. She trusted Nate to select the venue for their actual ceremony, but she had done all the legwork.::

     

    ::Literally getting down on one knee, she had reverse roles somewhat in Paris and proposed to him. Nate was so taken aback that he had nearly stepped on her hand. He had later explained that her actions had confused him and he thought at first that she had dropped something. His Neanderthal type brain later caught up with what was actually happening and he soon gladly responded with a booming YES.::

     

    ::His resulting retort had startled an older French woman next to them, who looked to them wild mild annoyance, as it had been the middle of the night, and half the city was asleep.::

     

    ::That day had been so perfect, and life with Nate ever since their engagement, was becoming exciting and unexpected with every day they spent together.::

     

    ::When Nate received the offer to return to active service in the Beta Quadrant, they both knew what the answer would be. Nate was happy to go back into space, and Charlie, much to her own surprise was happy to be at his side, and they went with it.::

     

    ::For once, in the many years they had known one another, they were finally on the same page.::

     

    ::It was then that the door chime rang. Charlotte was startled, and had not expected visitors. Additionally, there was no way that Nate would be off duty so soon, nor would he bother to use the door chime.::

     

    ::With an aristocratic bid to enter, Charlotte continued her work, whilst unpacking their things.::

     

    Farnsworth: Come in.

     

    Anyone: ((anyone with a PNPC who feels like writing a get to know you, feel free to jump in! I’d love to write with you.))

     

     

    PNPC Charlotte Farnsworth

     

    As written by…

    Lt. Cmdr. Nate Wilmer

    Helm Officer

    E239107NW0

    • Like 1
  8. For me it's actually a mixture and I could have picked several options.

    I have used my own birthday for some characters. I've used the birthday's of other members of my family too, at times.

    Sometimes, when I am considering what personality a character has I will look up the zodiac and assign them a starsign as seems appropriate for them. Based on that I may assign additional personality traits, including weaknesses and a fitting birthdate. It's a fun way of fleshing out a character a little more and often gives a little extra inspiration.

  9. I'm glad to see Oddas getting the Boothby Award since I nominated him for it for all the outstanding work and commitment. I know the cadets value and appreciate him every bit as much as I do.

    It goes without saying that achieving the Picard Award and the Great Bird Award is absolutely mind blowing, so thank you very much indeed! As long as the community is ahppy, I'm happy, that's what it's all about.

    Every single one of these winners are worthy and I have great respect in particular for those who conquer adversity to make things work and cntinue to write with us. Congrtaulations one and all! :)

     

    • Like 2
  10. ((Deck 13, FNS Suite, DS26))

    ::Kendra sat in her office a the day after the murder investigation had been resolved. Reflexively she would stretch to rub a still aching shoulder muscle. Whatever it was that her mysterious "source" Farsarr had used on her hurt like nothing Kendra had ever felt before. And why shouldn't it, it wasn't like she had ever gotten shot before which just made her want to ensure that it never happened again. Though not an expert, Kendra knew that she was probably over due for an appointment with one of the local doctors just to make sure no lasting injuries had been done.

    For now though that would have to wait as Kendra sat in front of her computer monitor, Cosima, her mentor being on the other side of the comm channel. Last Kendra heard, Cosima Tau was on her way to Risa or somewhere of high society which made her curious just what the woman was doing inside comm range. Gotten shot, might have been a shock in more ways then one but it hadn't dulled those ever growing report instincts of her's. In this instance the timing of Cosima's call coinciding a mere hour after Kendra had sent her article revealing the murder to be reviewed and broadcasted region wide was far too incidental.

    She had no reason to be distrustful of her mentor. The timing was just intriguing and to say the least, Kendra was still a little on edge.::

    Tau: =/\= Darling, your looking less like, well you then usual. What have I told you about dressing to impress?=/\=

    ::Yeah that was trademark Cosima Tau and like it or not that was what everyone got when dealing with her. And unbelievably, too many people liked her for it.::

    Eberhart: =/\= I'm pretty sure, your exact words if I remember correctly was to look presentable but never better than you. ::Kendra paused, she hadn't said it maliciously but she was rather tense still. She would take a breath before continuing.:: Getting shot does kind of put a dampener on ones was mood and appearance.=/\=

    Tau: =/\=Yes and about that miss... What did you think you were doing?=/\=

    Eberhart: =/\=Simple, investigating a murder and in the process I got ambushed by some do gooder. =/\=

    Tau: =/\= I thought I trained you better than to think that that is the definition of a do gooder. =/\=

    ::Well that was certainly true but what else was Kendra meant to call a person that handed her the whole story on a silver platter. Of course Kendra did the right thing and hold off on publishing till the killer was caught and certainly until after the facts had been verified. Of course Kendra couldn't have known but surely for a story like this, a little risk was worth it. Even if that risk came with it the aches and pains of being shot.::

    Eberhart: =/\=Fair point, but again to be fair, it isn't like you haven't been shot before. =/\=

    ::The woman gave a warm, uncharacteristically motherly expression.::

    Tau: =/\=Yes I have been put in that position more often than I care for. And that is why I asked the SB118 FNS field office to put a hold on your story. =/\=

    ::Kendra knew that her story wouldn't be broadcasted immediately, as it was standard practice for new feild reporter's work to be screened. It was to make sure the story's sources had been properly verified, no grammatically devastator. But on the whole it was generally a formality. Kendra had never heard of a story being put on hold for this sort thing though. Honestly Kendra found the very notion to be outrageous and she was pretty sure Cosima knew it considering the way she spoke again. ::

    Tau: =/\= The story you wrote Kendra, was pretty decent. Some of your best work in fact but I don't think you realise something.=/\=

    Eberhart: =/\= No your definitely right, I don't know what I am missing because I was pretty happy when I pressed the send key on that story. =/\=

    Tau: =/\= Oh I know you were. You had this glow about you that I rarely saw on you unless you had uncovered something you thought was worthwhile. =/\=

    Eberhart: =/\= What does this have to do with anything Cosima, I was sent here to do a job, which is a job you helped line up for me no less. =/\=

    ::She said feeling emboldened by her sudden irritation for her mentor. Normally she had nothing but respect for the media diva, but Kendra wasn't going to let even her dictate the content she reported. In the moment Kendra didn't know which was a more troubling prospect, going against a star fleet admiral or going against Cosima Tau, either way though it was way too late to decide not to investigate the murder of the Ambassador and all that came with it. Her reasons for doing it were good then and were still good now.::

    Tau: =/\= Its just that by publishing a story like this, can and probably will make you a target whether you want to admit it or not. I was young and idealistic once, I didn't always report galactic gossip. ::Pauses:: And there is more than one reason why I don't anymore. =/\=

    ::giving a sigh as she slowly smiled as she realised where Cosima was coming from. The woman meant well, just had a sometimes all too irritating way of going about it.::

    Eberhart: =/\= Believe it or not I have already considered fragments of your argument. And you do make a good point BUT I still want my story published. Inter-galactic gossip isn't going to satisfy me as a journalist. =/\=

    Tau: =/\= Yes I thought you would feel that way. I will tell SB118 HQ to go ahead and broadcast the story then but at least hire yourself a body guard or something. ::Pauses smiling:: Or better yet, leave that too me. Later Dears. Have to run, many calls to make.=/\=

    ::Just like that the screen went blank before Kendra could get a word in edgewise. Undoubtedly whatever Cosima ran off to do was going to be a nightmare for her, even if Cosima meant well. As Kendra sat there in the office a little longer though she found herself honestly pleased though knowing that something worthwhile had come of the last few days even if the aches and pains still remained. ::


    Kendra Eberhart
    FNS Reporter, DS26
    C238805AC0

  11. ((Brell’s Quarters, Deck 4, USS Blackwell))

     

    ::He sat at the desk in the living area of his quarters. With shore leave about to begin he would be spending most of the Blackwell’s trip to it’s main port of call in his office going over transfers and other personnel matters. There was one thing he could take of now and he leaned back in the chair as he spoke aloud.::

     

    Brell: Computer begin log entry. ::The acknowledgement beeps from the computer came immediately.::  First officer’s log stardate 239106.13, today was say goodbye to Debin VII and the Caraadian Navy Ship, Burracanthris. The Blackwell’s doctors have seen to the distribution and recovery of those who were infected. The last Caraadian patient was released to the Burracanthris, at 0430 this morning. No thefts, or complaints from the medical staff were reported in regards to the patients. I had been concerned at first taking so many aboard for several weeks but that was proven to be unfounded. The engineering feats made to keep the ship from falling to the ground, and possibly destroying the planetoid, have all been filed and sent to the SCE for their enjoyment.  

     

    ::He paused hearing that Morin had stepped out of the sonic shower, and had started shaving his head. Living with his nephew the last few weeks had been interesting, and a nice distraction during his off hours. He had been there for support that Brell was in need of during this trying time of strife within his marriage. Clearing his throat he continued in order to wrap up his log entry before the youth emerged from the bathroom.::

     

    Brell: We have set course back to Deep Space Twenty Six and should be arriving within the next five hours. I am looking forward to seeing my children and my spouses and enjoying some shore leave.
     

    ::It felt odd not including that he was unsure if he would be spending much time with his spouses. That was for his personal log and he had not been talking about much else in it. Lyldra had on average accepted his comm request twice each week he had been away. She had recorded a return message a few times as well, and there was Hars. He had only recorded a message once, and that had been with the twins so they had not talked about their feelings at all.  It had been devastating. Brell had been Lyldra and Hars’ co-husband for six years and had never gone this long without speaking to them pretty much every other day.::

     

    ::Morin walked out of bathroom towel wrapped around him. He reminded him so much of himself when he was in the academy. Immersed in a culture so different than his own, learning new things and defining himself, as well as having fun. He was also reminded he was once as slim and fit as the younger man, and smirked at the thought of meeting himself at about that age when he said he would never let the Bolian males predisposition for stockiness effect him.::

     

    Morin: So have Aunt Lyldra and Uncle Hars said where to meet up yet?

     

    Brell: No, they would have gotten my message last night too.

     

    ::Morin sat on the couch nearest to the his uncle and face him. He felt like they should be sitting around in some sauna somewhere soaking in the steam as they chatted. He would have to bring up the idea for after their next workout session.::

     

    Morin: ::Sighing:: And the one from the day before that and the day before that and so on. I bet they haven't even watched it and still have a few days of backlog.

     

    Brell: You could be right, but .. I’m used to talking to them more often. It was hard when Lyldra was away on the Darwin while Hars and I remained stationed on at the Embassy. This … this is worse.

     

    Morin: oO And you feel like you deserve it, which to an extent you do, no one could blame them for not wanting to see you for awhile. Oo

     

    ::He knew his uncle was well aware of that fact, and there was no need to say it aloud other than to hurt him. In the weeks since Morin had moved into Brell’s quarters he had been the shoulder to cry on and motivator to keep him from falling into a self loathing depression. Uncle Brell had been there for him as a child after his parents sudden deaths. So, he was quite happy to be helping him through a tough time now. He had used this, in helping to establish a rapport and bedside manner with the patients he had help oversee these past few weeks. He imagined what their families must be going through worrying about them … the strife was for different reasons of course, but the empathy was what was important.::

     

    Morin: Lyldra did say she would bring the twins over to stay with you for a few days while Blackwell is there.

     

    ::Being away from his spouses also meant being away from his children. Renu, and Linalu would be aware of something off with their parents, of that Brell was sure. He was glad they not older even by a few years as Bolian families all shared in the psychological distress during times like this.::

     

    Brell: I look forward to it. I … I have something to ask, when you see Lyldra and Hars, Ask them if can do anything.

     

    Morin: You know they need space and time to deal with feeling betrayed and angry, they understand you're not fully to blame but you took the full responsibility anyway.

     

    ::He had told him this all before during times Brell had been more down on himself than he needed to be. Brell had also said all of it before himself. Both knew this was a cycle of regret, and Brell wanting to throw himself at their mercy to do anything for forgiveness.::

     

    Brell: I know that. ::Smirking.:: You can tell them I am sufficiently beating myself up over here.  

     

    Morin: ::Laughing:: They know that from the twenty one messages they have gotten from you.

     

    ::Brell joined in the laughter. Which felt quite good, he very much missed laughing often.::  

     

    PNPC Cadet Morin, Medical Trainee, Uss Blackwell, NCC-58999

    With and Simmed by,

    Commander Brell - First Officer

    Andaris Task Force, USS Blackwell NCC-58999

    Academy Deputy Commandant

    E239109B10

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