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Renos

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Posts posted by Renos

  1. ((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
  2. 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
  3. 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
  4. ((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
  5. 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
  6. 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.

  7. 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
  8. ((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

  9. ((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

  10. ((Deep Space 26, Level 13, Nova Room Bar))

     

    ::As Ensign Laehlani Antorii sat at the far end of the star lit Nova Room barside and brought the intricate crystal tumbler to her delicate lips, she inwardly hoped that taking a deep sip of her Antosian Spiced Cocktail would somehow be enough to ease her troubled mind. Then again, being a trained Counselor also meant she could easily diagnose when someone, even herself, was self soothing - albeit innocently enough - with an alcoholic beverage. Needless to say once again her mind had a way of running off even the simplest of respites that could be had.::

     

    ::The real truth was, though she was currently dressed to the nines, wearing one of her best form-fitting gowns that matched her blazing blue hair perfectly, sipping one of her favorite homeworld drinks, and quite literally drawing more than a few glances and open jawed stares from some of the other patrons, Laehlani herself was lost in a world entirely in her own mind.::

     

    ::As she gazed out into the dim glow of the Nova Bar, she didn’t so much as see the various people and events happening around her, as much as she looked through them, almost as if these faces of strangers were a unique sliver of mirror glass that she could somehow divine the answer to both once and future things alike.::

     

    ::Sitting here now she wondered why she had bothered to even do this to herself. To dress all up, to beautify herself and go out into the bustling bar and gambling establishment, when she neither wanted nor sought company, nor desired in any way to cast her “lots” for frivolous earnings.::

     

    ::She suspected it had something to do with preservation of self, of that small innate way every being has of somehow stroking their own ego when they feel anything but confident in their life choices. Perhaps it was vanity, perhaps it was a small inconsequential temptation of fate, or else a small prominent snub of the thumb at it. Either way, the effect was the same. All she had were her thoughts, and this one corner of reflection in which she would allow her mind to unfurl itself upon, like a century plant falling from its highest bloom into a more humbling reality.::

     

    ::So far the start of her hopeful career at Starfleet had, at least in her own estimation, not been going to plan. It had not been long since she’d graduated the academy. Had barely been able to even have an adequate chance to prove herself as both a competent and professional Counselor and Starfleet Officer. There was nothing wrong with her original posting upon the Blackwell, the crew that she had met had been quite lovely. In fact, if she was honest, perhaps that was the true source of her brooding tonight.::

     

    Antorii: oO Come on Laehlani, you’re not actually in trouble for what happened. If anything, you ran far too prematurely. If only you had stuck around long enough and spoken to him instead of immediately jumping at this first chance to abandon ship under the guise of that Training Symposium, things might have been quite different. Oo

     

    ::It was true, she had run. But what choice had she had? She had been like kid Icarus, too overjoyed by the prospect of wings and the warmth of a brilliant new sun in her life to even remotely notice that the wax was already beginning to melt thin on her feathery hopes. She had simply crossed a line. A division in the ether where mere mortals were not allowed to just whimsically brave at their every choosing. And even if her fall had been entirely one of her own devising and by-in-large exclusively in her own reckoning, she alone knew the fearsome weight of striking stone when you had once made your home among the stars.::

     

    ::Sighing to herself and lost too much in her own thoughts, she set her drink glass down perhaps a little too hard. Though it didn’t break, it did make a loud clack sound as it tumbled several of her ice cubes and a bit of the bluish alcohol over her hands and counter top.::

     

    ::Swearing semi-quietly to herself in Antosian, she immediately began floundering around for a bar napkin, when suddenly one was presented to her from just over her right shoulder. Looking up as she took hold of the extended napkin, she met the eyes of a rather good looking human male.::

     

    ::From first glances he was tall, perhaps a tad taller than even she was, which she found a rarity for most humans. He was solidly built, with closely cropped hair, ashen features, and adorned most prominently with a grin that was perhaps two parts understanding, and one part sensed opportunity.::

     

    ::Taken aback by this stranger’s presence, and half embarrassed by her recent act of clumsiness that only mirrored the original act that had sent her scurrying off on the USS Darwin in the first place, she was unconventionally at a loss for words. The stranger seemed unfazed and simply gave her a moment to compose herself as she wiped her hands.::

     

    Antorii: Thank You.

     

    ::She said, still unsure of the man’s intentions, or what there was even to be said at this point. So far self-preservation seemed to be dying a harsh, brutal death tonight.::

     

    Rawlings: Don’t mention it. Happens to the best of us.

     

    ::The man glanced away calmly for a few moments, still somehow very much in the moment with her, but also giving her space. Laehlani had been around long enough to know that most men, regardless of species, often showed less tact than he seemed to exhibit so far. In fact, it seemed he displayed a sort of cool-headed manner about himself, not so much being afraid to speak, as he seemed to allow the ball to be entirely in her court. If all that there was to be of the exchange was all that had already come to pass, she sensed he’d be just as well off with it. And truly she knew she would be too.::

     

    ::Perhaps it was the part of the Antosian Cocktail that hadn’t spilled or the emotional roller rink she had felt herself skating on ever since she had departed the Blackwell for a short time, but as she looked up at this stranger, Laehlani felt a sudden deep need to be held tonight.::

     

    ::She didn’t know one single thing about this man, not even his name for that matter, but she quickly felt something slipping within her. Some cautionary lever that was being flicked down into a lower gear, some inward restless churning that made her speak before she had a chance to stop herself.::

     

    Antorii: Listen, I don’t normally do this but… ::She began, only to have the man gently interrupt her, his full attention on her.::

     

    Rawlings: Then don’t. Trust me, it's not what you really want.

     

    Antorii: Excuse me..?  ::Completely shocked.::

     

    Rawlings: Right now, in this moment, you think that’s what you want. But you don’t. Trust me, I should know.

     

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

    Ensign Laehlani Antorii

    Counselor - USS Blackwell

    Andaris Task Force

    A239403LA0

    • Like 1
  11. If you look at the visual text editor and the row of buttons at the top, there is one between the paperclip and the  <> that looks roughly like " and when you hover over it, it sys quote. You can press that

    to get a blank box that looks like this:

    Quote

     

    Click on the white bit and type your quote. An example of a finished quote might look like:

    Quote

    zh'Aella: I… I may have misjudged the situation.

     

    Hope this helps

    • Like 2
  12. I often start my new character at Ensign as I like to see them evolve from the start of their career, but it depends on the reason I'm creating them so it can vary a lot. I might be using them as a stand-in department head while training junior PCs to be able to take over, in time, and need them to have a higher rank, or they might even be an enlisted character to flesh out the wider crew or a civilian.

  13. [FLASHBACK]

     

    ((Starfleet Academy, San Francisco Campus - Colleen Bancroft’s Quarters - 239105.10 11:10 Hours))

     

    ::Colleen was just finishing up a paper for her Hostile Species Diplomacy course when a ping came in on her PADD. She wrote the last couple paragraphs, saved the paper to her terminal, and then grabbed said PADD. A private message sat in it from one of her instructors, Mike Logan, who she had trained under since she’d gotten to San Francisco. He owned a dojo in ‘Frisco proper, where he taught Aikido, Judo, and Jiu-jitsu, as well as an Anbo-Jytsu class. Mike also taught Anbo-Jytsu at the Academy, as well as one of the basic Unarmed Combat courses.::

     

    //

    To: Cadet Third Class Bancroft, Colleen

    From: Master Chief Petty Officer Logan, Michael, Instructor, Starfleet Academy

     

    Hey Colleen:

    Happy Friday. I’ve got a student in my class this semester who is massively struggling. At this rate, he’s going to fail, and yes, I know we still have two and a half months (or so) to go. I know you’ve got your own class load to manage, what with the dual major and all, but is there any chance that you can do some private lessons for him?

    -Mike

    //

     

    ::Colleen sat back in her chair and considered. He wasn’t wrong that she had her own course load, and it wasn’t simple or very easy, but she also hadn’t been training as much this semester - she could use the training time, as well as a chance to teach. Besides, it was unarmed combat. She had yawned her way through the course and still would have gotten an A+ if it’d been possible. Leaning back forward, she pulled up her reply box.::

     

    //

    To: Master Chief Petty Officer Logan, Michael, Instructor, Starfleet Academy

    From: Cadet Third Class Bancroft, Colleen

     

    Mike:

    Yeah, I can do it, favor to you. Can I count this towards my Judo ranking? (Kidding) Do you mind if I use the dojo for it though? Trying to schedule time at a campus dojo is a bitch.

    -Colls

    //

     

    ::It only took a minute for the Master Chief to respond.::

     

    //

    To: Cadet Third Class Bancroft, Colleen

    From: Master Chief Petty Officer Logan, Michael, Instructor, Starfleet Academy

     

    Yeah, go ahead and use the dojo. You have your key, but you also know the rules, no interfering with regular classes! And I’ll think about counting it.

    -Mike

    //

     

    //

    To: Master Chief Petty Officer Logan, Michael, Instructor, Starfleet Academy

    From: Cadet Third Class Bancroft, Colleen

     

    I was kidding about the ranking, but thanks. After two and a half years, I definitely know the class schedule; I’ll be sure not to interfere with regular class. Send me your student’s details and I’ll get him into shape.

    -Colleen

    //

     

    ::Colleen exchanged a few more messages with him, getting the student’s details in the process, before bringing the conversation to a close. She glanced at the student’s profile - Choi Ji-hu. He was an Engineering major and Mike’s note said that the guy was miserably failing the class. Couldn’t throw, couldn’t get thrown, couldn’t… well. The guy needed help.::

     

    ::Colleen sighed, and then composed a message to the other student.::

     

    //

    To: Cadet Second Class Choi Ji-hu

    From: Cadet Third Class Bancroft, Colleen

     

    Cadet Choi:

    Your TAC101 instructor has asked me to provide you with private lessons in the curriculum, so that you might pass his class. Would you please send me your current schedule, so that we may figure out when best to train?

    Sincerely,

    Cadet Colleen Bancroft

    //

     

    ((Starfleet Academy - Choi Ji-hu’s Dorm Room - 239105.10 11:20 Hours))

     

    ::Ji-hu was sprawled out on his unmade bed, halfway through reading a paper on Denobulan nanotechnology in the treatment of degenerative neurological disease for his end of term course paper when a ping came from his wrist-mounted PADD. He keyed in a command, summoning his VI assistant.::

     

    Choi: Turing, put the message on screen.

     

    ::He flopped off the bed and into the chair in front of his console. The private message was from a fellow cadet, a third year, which was odd until he read the body of the message with mounting horror. He had fumbled through the basic combat courses as best as he could. His shooting was dismal, but he’d had managed a C- in small weapons, miraculously. Unarmed combat was another matter, he was failing, dismally, in terms of both grades and skill.::

     

    Choi: ::sweating slightly:: Crap, crap, crap… Turing, crap. Send my schedule… and answer in the affirmative… Send message. CRAP!

     

    ::He tossed himself on his bed, chest heaving, trying to get a breath. It was one thing to embarrass himself in front of a cohort of 30 first and second years and Instructor Logan, now he was going to have to take remedial combat with an upper year! Why couldn’t he just stick to tech and science?! Nanotechnology, math and systems architecture made sense. His flailing limbs did not.::

     

    //

    To: Cadet Third Class Bancroft, Colleen

    From: Cadet Second Class Choi Ji-hu

     

    Cadet Bancroft:

    Affirmative. I am attaching my course schedule.

    Sincerely,

    Cadet Choi Ji-hu

    (Message prepared by a VI Assistant)

    //

     

    ::Colleen received the message and quickly glanced through it -- a VI Assistant? Huh -- and then looked over the schedule. The way she figured it, if she was going to get this guy into shape to pass this course, they’d need to practice a minimum of two to three times a week, every week. Based on the schedule, and compared against her own, she figured lessons on Wednesday and Friday nights, and Sunday afternoons, would be best. She attached the schedule and a map to the dojo before composing the message.::

     

    //

    To: Cadet Second Class Choi Ji-hu

    From: Cadet Third Class Bancroft, Colleen

     

    Cadet Choi:

    I have attached a schedule of when I think would be best to practice. I have secured space on a dojo off campus, where we will be able to practice without any interference from others, including your classmates. Please respond as soon as possible as to whether the attached schedule will work for you.

    Thanks,

    Cadet Bancroft

    //

     

    ::The response came back shortly after Ji-hu had calmed himself enough that he was considering a trip to the dorm’s cadet mess hall for some noodles, but the message sent him into fresh terror. A dojo?! Was he going to be fighting a ninja or something?! Ji-hu responded in the affirmative, dread mounting. He had hoped the instructor would let him squeak by and keep what little dignity the cadet had left, but that was not to be the case. This would mean a couple of months of extra lessons before the end of semester. A couple of months of endless embarrassment. He found he wasn’t hungry anymore.::

     

    ((Mike’s Dojo, San Francisco - 239105.10 18:27 Hours))

     

    ::Colleen brought the push broom down the last section of mats before shaking it out the window. It was a beautiful spring evening outside, and the skylights in the ceiling cast brilliant beams in from the west, giving the large room more than enough light without turning on the internal lights. She had already dressed out in her gi, but had hesitated before tying her black belt around her waist. Instead, she had placed it back in her bag and pulled on her old white belt, which had so much use that it fell completely limply at her waist - and stayed tied easily - and was more a dark grey than white at this point. Putting up the broom, she glanced at the clock. She expected her new student here momentarily. But first…::

     

    ::Colleen sat down in seiza, facing towards the north wall of the dojo, and bowed to the Shomen before going over to the small desk against the south wall and resuming her seiza to review the dojo logs.::

     

    ::Ji-hu had arrived half-an-hour early--he was always early, especially when it came to traversing the bewildering geometry of San Francisco’s layout--but dithered outside the dojo before finally taking the plunge. As instructed, he came in his school issue Academy tanktop and jogging shorts, which made him feel like a gangling mass of noodly limbs, unlike the majority of other students, more athletically inclined, who seemed to fill in their exercise outfits perfectly.::

     

    ::To his intense relief the school seemed quiet, and he left his sneakers on a rack in the first room. He followed Bancroft’s instructions and soon entered a large room straight out of an old action flick, sun glancing through the windows above, casting dramatic shadows through the beams.::

     

    ::A woman sat on her knees inside the room in the white dojo robes Ji-hu was sure had a fancy name, but which escaped him. He cleared his throat.::

     

    Choi: Uh… C-C-Cadet Bancroft? I’m… uh… Cadet Choi.

     

    ::Colleen flicked off the PADD she’d been reviewing and turned towards the door, where a man in Academy standard issue workout clothes had just entered. He looked nervous as hell.::

     

    Bancroft: Hey! Yeah, I’m Bancroft. Welcome, Cadet Choi. Hope you found your way here easily enough.

     

    ::Ji-hu nodded and placed his backpack down just inside the door and took a few steps in, feeling awkward.::

     

    Choi: Th-thanks for… doing this. ::clearing his throat nervously:: Ma’am.

     

    ::Colleen smiled and rose to her feet to move towards the door, offering a hand to the other Cadet to shake.::

     

    Bancroft: Yeesh. Ma’am? I’m only a year ahead of you. Call me Colleen. Please.

     

    Choi: ::feeling his face burning red hot as he shook her hand:: Okay. Ji-hu. You can. Call me.

     

    ::He kicked himself inwardly. As graceful an entrance as he could have expected walking into a dojo. At least there weren’t any other students to observe his fumbling, both athletic and social.::

     

    Bancroft: Ji-hu it is then. Pleased to meet you. You can relax here. We’re the only ones here and the next class isn’t scheduled until tomorrow morning.

     

    ::Colleen flat ignored how red Choi’s face was getting. She understood social anxiety, although maybe not to the level it seemed the other Cadet had it at.::

     

    Bancroft: So. First things first, we’ll run through the same warmup routine as they do at the Academy, yeah? Ah. Yeah. And another quick thing: I don’t expect you to have already known this. Before you get on the mat, please be sure to bow towards the front. ::She gestured towards the Shomen at the north end.::

     

    ::Ji-hu nodded and pivoted on his heel, giving a respectful bow towards the shrine-looking setup at the far end of the room. As a polite Korean son he could at least manage that much.::

     

    ::Once Choi had bowed on, Colleen ran them through the warmup routine with efficiency, but made sure not to run through it so fast she lost him or caused him to overheat or give up. Once they were finished with the warmup, Colleen began.::

     

    Bancroft: Okay, so. First things first. Punch me.

     

    Choi: ::eyes going wide:: M-m-ma’am?!

     

    ::Colleen raised her eyebrow at him.::

     

    Bancroft: No, seriously. Punch me; you’re not going to hurt me. ::For emphasis, she gestured sharply towards her stomach.:: Good punches and kicks are crucial to everything from here on out. Also, learning to fall, but we’ll get there.

     

    ::Ji-hu felt a sweat breaking out across his back, he was having trouble breathing. He attempted to channel his inner action hero, like a loose-cannon starship captain who doesn’t play by the rules from the vids he loved, tried to remember Instructor Logan’s lessons, and swung his fist back before bringing it out in front of him.::

     

    ::He sort of missed her stomach and punched her in the left boob, but it was more like her chest deflected his fist entirely. Ji-hu took a couple of steps back, mortified.::

     

    ::As Ji-hu flailed to hit her - and hit her lightly in the left boob, far enough off to the side that she barely felt it - she sighed inwardly.::

     

    oO We have a lot of work to do. Oo

     

    A Joint Post By:

     

    Ensign Colleen Bancroft

    Security and Tactical Officer

    USS Gorkon

    G239404CB0

     

    AND

     

    Lieutenant (JG) Choi Ji-hu

    Engineering Officer

    USS Constitution-B

    C239402CJ0

  14. ((Caraadian Battlecruiser, Deck 8, Engineering Section))
     
    Nalai: ::sullen and angry:: Two days! It couldn’t hold itself together for two measly days.
     
    ::Sub-Lieutenant Para Nalai hit a bulkhead with his fist and regretted it instantly. He was not at all a fan of personifying ships, but right now, he was almost sure that this ship was willingly ruining him.::
     
    ::He looked onto his display unit, the connection bars to the main computer in the top-right corner were flashing erraticly. One moment, he had perfect data uplink, one later there was no connection.::
     
    Nalai: It cannot even decide if it wants to fail or not…
     
    ::The display showed in all sorts of red many failures in the main reaction-core room. He would just have to turn right, down that corridor, duck under some hanging pipes, go through that door and…
     
    Computer: Access denied.
     
    ::Nalai tried to use the manual opener at the side of the door.::
     
    Computer: Access denied.
     
    ::The engineer stopped his fist mid-air while it was on its way towards the display. With his luck, the display surely would shatter and only add to the pain that was already throbbing in his knuckles.::
     
    ::Actually, Nalai did not even know why he was trying. He had been one of the lowest of the lowest, assigning the cleaning teams to corridors and the technicians to the lightbulbs that needed changing. Sometimes even doing so himself.::
     
    ::The display still showed error codes en masse and all of them did not say anything to him except „Do something about me!“. That was no problem, he would make something up when he found a way inside.::
     
    ::His look fell onto a service hatch a little back up the corridor. A good idea almost made him smile. The panel was removed within seconds, that was something he actually knew how to do. Then, with some more hue and cry, he squeezed his bulky belly through the tiny opening.::
     
    ::Luckily, behind it, the tube got much bigger and he had no trouble reaching a second hatch that would open into the core-room with his own access code, not without sending an instant warning to the bridge. Not that anyone there cared, most of them were ailing somewhere with the plague or already being dead from one of many explosions.::
     
    ::The second hatch opened and gave way to a wave of heat. After Nalai could open his eyes again, he saw a labyrinth of fire-spitting energy conducts, unhealthy current discharges and dangerously dangling ceiling tiles. He closed the door in front of him.::
     
    Nalai: Thats… Thats just too typical. Not one of those super-awesome smart-asses from engineering command is left. Just let old Para do it, two days before his year off!
     
    ::He took a deep breath and opened the hatch again. He would have proudly described his parkour efforts as „better than Lara Croft“ if he had actually known who that was. In reality, his thoughts were more concerned with him ending up as a roasted chicken or a current-induced x-ray-image of himself.::
     
    ::Against all odds, he reached the console at the other side of the room. It was right next to the door he initially wanted to enter through. He was breathing heavily and his palms were sweaty. A stinging pain in his forehead reminded him that it was since two weeks time for his next cigarette.::
     
    Nalai: ::grimly and determined:: Let’s see…
     
    ::He pushed some buttons and some of the red lights were vanishing, while others appeared instead. He managed to stop the leaking from the pipes, but the biggest read-flashing warning messages were not disappearing.::
     
    ::By accident he summoned a navigational status map onto the screen. He saw the miniature representation of the battlecruiser directly plunging towards a tiny planet.::
     
     Nalai: ::resigned:: Oh my, we really need some help here…
     
    ______________________

    MSPNPC
    Sub-Lieutenant Para Nalai
    Engineering Officer
     
    as simmed by
     
    Lt Isabel Pond
    USS Darwin-A
    D239212IP0
    • Like 2
  15. ((Deck 7, Shayne and Pond’s Quarters, USS Atlantis))

    ::Something was bothering the love of his life.::

    ::Shayne’s back complained insistently as he hefted yet another box from the towering stack that still remained in his and Pond’s shared quarters aboard the Atlantis . It never seemed to diminish. They’d been at it for hours, but there was always another collection of things to move, place, or shove forcefully out of the way. Such tedium would normally be demoralizing, but then he would remember the reason for this extra labor, and he would lose his rancor immediately. After all, Isa needed her stuff moved in as well, and Shayne was only too happy to oblige.::

    ::As he observed her, however, it was clear that she was troubled. She had the look of someone wondering how to best broach a difficult subject. They didn’t normally have issues discussing anything. Secrets were not conducive to romances. Besides that, she seemed highly uncomfortable. She’d look at him when she thought he couldn’t see, and dart her eyes away as if caught in the middle of an uncouth act. He hadn’t seen her this disconcerted since their relatively recent visit to her family on Trill.

    ((Flashback 1, a few months ago, Pond residence, Leran Manev, Trill))

    ::Shayne stood in dismay as Isabel disappeared up the stairs, leaving the helmsman alone with her parents. Not even in his worst nightmares had he imagined something like this happening. And now he was left alone to maneuver the treacherous nor’easter of meeting the girlfriend's parents for the first time.::

    Raffa: Isn’t she lovely… I am Raffa, and that’s…

    Kylani: ::interrupting:: I’m Kylani, very nice to meet you.

    ::What an odd couple. They seemed well paired, if not slightly adversarial. Raffa seemed content to render Kylani into the shadows, but Kylani herself was not nearly as ready to allow Raffa to relegate her to a corner.::

    Shayne: Randal Shayne- a pleasure to meet you.

    Kylani: Can I offer you something refreshing?

    ::Alcohol- at least at this juncture- would be a dreadful idea. He never touched the stuff when his wits were needed, and in this most delicate situation, wits were the only thing that could help end this evening quickly and decently.::

    Shayne: Erm, water would be lovely-

    ::Kylani immediately turned and headed into the kitchen area. Perhaps she was one of those exceptionally energetic people.::

    Raffa: So you’re from Earth, right? We lived for a long time there, before Kylani got pregnant. Hence Isabel’s name… I guess you’re in Starfleet, too, aren’t you? Where else would Isa met someone like you…

    ((End Flashback))

    ::He shivered at the unfortunate memories, and again turned his attention to Isabel. As she put down another box and straightened her spine, Shayne gently took hold of her hand and looked her in the eye, curious and kind.::

    Shayne: Babe, is there something you want to talk about?

    ::Maybe there was, maybe there wasn’t. But this surely was not any of these matters where one could ask to talk about it. It was much too delicate and too important. One had to voluntarily reveal the opinion of it to be strictly truthful, of that Isabel was sure.::

    Pond: Uhm, not really. But I sure hope that nickname isn’t going to stick.

    ::He hid his embarrassment with a smile. Pond wasn’t the type for cute, silly nicknames, and Shayne had forgotten that in his haste to comfort her against something that wasn’t there.::

    Shayne: Absolutely not.

    ::He continued his unboxing with his face bright red, but still grinning. Something was on her mind.::

    ::After the matter was settled without coming to any conclusive results about what it was that Isabel bothered, the Trill tried some careful advances from her side.::

    Pond: ::casually:: What were you thinking about?

    Shayne: The dinner with your parents. I still have nightmares. ::Shaking his head.:: You remember it?

    Pond: ::laughing, emptily:: Of course I remember. My dad had known you for ten seconds and already almost blurted out the most embarrassing story of my later youth…

    ::Too late Isabel realised that Randal probably had already forgotten about that. After all, Raffa had barely been able to start with that before her storming off to the upper floor.::

    ::He cringed anew as the memories swept through him. Just once, violating the temporal prime directive didn’t sound so appalling- he might be able to redo the dinner.::

    Shayne: I was really trying to forget about that…

    ::There was a way of getting out of it once again, presenting itself. It probably would have been better to get things cleared out right there, who knew what Randal was imagining. However, clearly he wasn’t interested in doing that and Isabel moved on.::

    Pond: Oh common, it was nothing. ::laughing:: And it was not the only story that evening that nobody wanted to hear!

    ((Flashback 2, a few months ago, Pond residence, Leran Manev, Trill))

    ::After a while, Isabel returned downstairs. She felt quite bad for leaving Shayne that abruptly with her parents alone, but her father’s comment had been just too much. Now, she had calmed down over the nice view of the bay from the bedroom and was ready to face whatever monstrosities her dad’s humour would have in store for her.::

    ::She found them at the kitchen table. Randal had somehow acquired himself a glass of water while her parents were drinking bajoran wine, as always. The father was just telling some stories from his time on earth, which surely would lead (after a considerable amount of time) to the time when he would meet Kylani, getting married and probably even conceiving Isabel.::

    Raffa: … I lived in a district near London, called “Caldwell”. You know, it is one of these places that is in a constant cycle of being considered a bad neighborhood, becoming a place to be and then fall back again. Naturally over a couple of decades, of course. When I arrived, doing the last semester of engineering school on a foreign world, it was just on the brink. Not that bad anymore, but still cheap. Can you believe it, my buddy moving in across the street paid five times as much just three years later! Five times! ::Raffa shook his head, as if he was believing his own exaggerations:

    ::Shayne applied every scrap of will power toward keeping eye contact with the rambling Trill. He could barely stand to listen to this tirade while Isa was secluded upstairs, the result of Raffa’s insensitive words. But in the pursuit of propriety, he’d wait until she appeared again. After that, he didn’t know what he’d do. It rather depended on Isa’s bearing.::  

    Shayne: ::Giving an empty smile.:: There’s something to be said for financial prudence.

    Raffa: It was at the graduation party half a year later when I’ve met this young woman over here, just a freshman at the most renowned law schools in the area, but…

    ::Isabel made as loud of an entrance as possible, shuffling some glasses around while getting herself something to drink.::

    ::He jerked up, delighted to see that Isabel had reappeared. Her storming away in a huff made him realize just how deeply her father’s words had stung, and until know, he didn’t know if she’d return at all. But it appeared that she had found some sort of inner peace. That was just as well- now Shayne would have someone to share the torment with.::

    Pond: Dad, don’t bore my boyfriend with the whole story, that is no way to behave on the first day.

    Raffa: ::mocking:: At least better than abandoning him after 30 seconds, mind you.

    Shayne: ::Unable to stop the thought from crossing his mind.:: oO Oh, shut up, you insensitive fool! You’re the one who drove her away! Oo

    ::Raffa glanced at his daughter, obviously judging if there was a chance for her to take the bait a second time. But she appeared to be all calmed down now. However, there was still a slight pause which had to be filled.::

    ::Shayne was furious, but he didn’t like the way Raffa was looking at his daughter. No matter how much he’d like to loosen the grip on his emotional reins, he knew he had to try and keep focused.::

    Shayne: You...were telling me about your marriage.

    ::If there was one thing he’d learned from this whole mess, it was that Raffa enjoyed speaking. At great length. Whether he wanted him to or not.::

    Raffa: ::With a sigh:: Ah well, it is such a lovely story how we were getting married…

    ((End Flashback))

    ::Of course, the had been no way to stop Isabel’s father to tell the story anyway. Isabel had to be contented with the mere satisfaction of forcing him to tell the second or third shortest variant.::

    ::At that point, Isabel had an idea that could lure Randal out into the open. It involved some truth bending on how much she liked that story herself, though.::

    Pond: It is a lovely story though, isn’t it?

    ::He looked at his girlfriend, aghast. What had she said? How could she like the story? She actively encouraged her father to tell the abridged version. He could see his loathing for the whole thing reflected in her eyes. What did she mean?::

    Shayne: ::Chuckling to voice his confusion.:: No. It bored the both of us to tears- you remember that.

    Pond: Ah well, you remember that, too. ::only slightly getting off track:: But it is about love and passion and after all, I have never seen anybody that happily married.

    Shayne: Well, I suppose it had its moments. Are you talking about something specifically?

    Pond: Uh noo, not at all. ::Slight pause, then an excited outbreak:: Hey, do you remember the next embarrassing thing? ::now realising that excitement was the wrong emotion, Isabel changed it to something more appropriate.:: We must have won an award back then…

    ::Shayne cringed as his thoughts continued upon their treacherous, torturous stroll down memory lane…::

    ((Flashback 3, a few months ago, Pond residence, Leran Manev, Trill))

    Raffa: So, Mr Shayne, how long did you say you and Isa are together? I am afraid our daughter is not very industrious while writing letters.

    ::Isabel gave him a crooked smile, which was her way to take that as a compliment.::

    Shayne: Oh, um… it’s been some time. Bordering on a couple of years now, wouldn’t you say? ::Looking at Isa.::

    Raffa: Wow, that’s about the time when it gets serious! So when are you planning to marry her?

    ::His daughter’s eyes went from “I have everything under control” to “and what’s my saying in that?” within a moment, but her mother was quicker on the response.::

    ::Shayne’s eyes bugged out at Raffa’s statement. This wasn’t possible. Why was he facing this? Why couldn’t Isabel’s parent be more sensitive? Most fathers- in his painfully- were quite protective of their daughters, and would study any suitors quite carefully. Now this man was complaining at him for not tying the knot already.::

    Shayne: ::To the universe:: oO You are having far too much fun at my expense. Oo  

    Kylani: Darling, remember what we said about approaching sensitive things slowly? ::laughing friendly, now explaining to Shayne:: You know, just because we hit it off right away, he always thinks it must be like that with everyone else. ::again to her husband:: They’re still very young, they have all the time in the world.

    ::If it weren’t for Kylani, he didn’t know what he’d do. She seemed quite sensible, understanding, polite and sensitive- everything Raffa wasn’t. It was refreshing to be reminded that civility still existed in some capacity.::

    Raffa: ::jokingly upset:: Young? My baby girl is… uhm… is 26 already…

    Pond: ::whispering, happily upsetting her father even more:: Twenty-Seven

    ::Shayne’s shoulders dropped even lower.::

    Raffa: 27! ::to Randal:: You know, if we had been you, our oldest one had already been walking at this point!

    Shayne: oO I doubt it, sir! You would talk him to death long before that could happen! Oo

    ::Isabel crunched some numbers, leaving her forehead in wrinkles. They really did not add up the way her father was thinking they would.::

    Shayne: ::Temple throbbing painfully.:: Well, I guess we’re not there yet.

    ::Isabel had enough at that point and decided to step in and try to move the conversation to a different topic.::

    Pond: You know, enough of that, we’ll figure the right moment out, am I right?

    ::The sentiment earned his wholehearted support. And as he considered, he realized this was just a minor irritation. At the end of the day, he still had her.::

    ((End Flashback))

    ::Isabel smiled and glanced at Randal, judging if he had noticed the convenient point where she had ended her recollection of the events she had been talking about.::

    Pond: I guess you have to understand my father, he surely was just making up for all the years he wasn’t able to tease me and for all the ones lying ahead of us.

    ::Now he was more sure than ever that something was going on. Something that Isabel was hoping he would notice as well. But what? For such a perceptive creature, he felt exceptionally thick at the moment.::

    ::Isabel cuddled a little closer to her boyfriend, both in anticipation of these years and as a sign for him that she was indeed ready to take these on seriously.::

    Shayne: ::Eyebrow raised.:: Well, your father has a way with words. But I guess I can accept that. And nothing is going to spoil my joy of the many years lying ahead. ::Embracing Isabel back.::

    ::And then a horrible, flimsy wisp of thought came to the forefront of his mind, and a moment’s consideration expanded it so that he could focus on nothing else. The painful recollections about stories regarding marriage, Isabel’s poignant comments…::

    ::Was she talking about getting married?::

    ::The whole world stopped. Absolute joy and terror seethed in his heart. Did she want to? Well, she always said she wanted a family some day. He’d never really considered the implications of that desire. Sheer exhilaration coursed through his veins. What did he say? Should he ask to clarify? Should he pursue the topic? Should he run and hide? All of these things sounded quite good at that moment.::

    ::Being tightly locked in an embrace, Isabel definitely felt a change in Randal’s posture. Some muscles definitely were contracted which normally wouldn’t be in this situation. For a moment, names in an old language flowed through the doctor’s mind, the ones the humans had decided that their muscles should have. Even though painstakingly learned in med school, she remembered only the Trill ones.::

    ::Maybe thanks to that silly overflow, she wasn’t quite able to grasp that this reaction most likely meant that he had finally understood. This failure in recognition led to her continue beating around the bush.::

    Pond: I have no doubts about that! You don’t want anything to change, do you?

    ::Her endeavour was tricky. She wanted to find out if Randal was ready yet. It didn’t came to her mind that he could not want to get married, it was just that he sometimes could be just a bit too pleased with the things how they are. To find the answer for that question, which could only be “yes” or “later”, was actually the easy part. She could wait, no problem. Not too long, but she could. What Isabel actually was afraid of was that he would take all that banter as a prompt to propose. That would be a problem, because it was a moment, which had to be perfect, maybe even more so than the actual wedding day. And the only way she could make sure that it would be exactly as she imagined it was to do it herself.::

    Shayne: ::Now thoroughly convinced that she was speaking of marriage.:: Well, not for the present. Aren’t things, you know...good the way they are?

    ::He said that while cringing inside, desperate to not offend the love of his life. If he was wrong about what she was talking about, it could lead to a huge miscommunication, a possibly a larger argument. What if she wasn’t satisfied with the way things were? Was that why she was bringing this up? Already he could see conflict.::

    Pond: Yeah sure… ::looking the other way, out of the window:: Sure they are.

    END

    Lieutenant Randal Shayne
    Helmsman/Ops officer
    USS Atlantis 
    NCC 74682
    G239202RS0 

    and 

    Lt Isabel Pond
    Medical Officer
    USS Atlantis
    D239212IP0

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