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Yalu

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Yalu last won the day on May 30

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About Yalu

  • Birthday 10/22/1987

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  • Current Vessel
    USS Resolution
  • Current Post
    Helm Officer

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  • Location
    Nevada, USA
  • Player's Pronouns
    he/him
  • Interests
    Languages, Volleyball, Frisbee

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  1. @Hallia Yellir combines scientific curiosity with overactive imagination and unquenchable optimism. It makes her a joy to read, and reminds all of us that there's more than enough room in Starfleet for FUN. ((Security Control, Deck 3, USS Resolution)) Yellir: Oh! Perfect! I need… ::checking her PADD:: two type one phase— wait, make that three, three type two phasers and fi…— no, six! power cells. I need them for an experiment. Aine's eyes went wide. oO That's quite a requisition for a science experiment. Oo Aine wondered what kind of experiment it was, and with scientists the way they were, who really knew? Sometimes it was better not to ask. Luckily, part of their resupply was included phasers because of the worry the effect the Skarn homeworld may have had on them...and one was missing. And being still docked, they could always get more. Hallia tilted her head slightly. A little alarmed by Aine’s reaction, she looked down, wondering if she’d said something wrong. The security officer seemed a little caught off guard by the request. But then again, not many science officers request directed energy weapons for an experiment. Part of her felt a little bad, but then again, it was either this or try and make one out of lab equipment. Which probably wouldn’t go well, as Hallia was all thumbs when it came to engineering. Perhaps actually learning more about the subject might benefit her. Sherlock: Um, yeah, that should be no problem. :: gesturing towards the weapons locker :: Standing, Aine made her way across the room. Pressing her finger onto an access panel, the door to the weapons locker slid open with a quiet hiss. Hallia grabbed the phasers one by one, and held them in her free hand. Sherlock: So, what kind of experiment is this? Yellir: ::smiling, Hallia mumbled quietly, almost unable to contain her voice to such a volume:: I made a chunk of what I call synthflesh. Sherlock: A what? Yellir: ::Nearly yelling:: Fake skin! ::covering her mouth and quieting herself:: Well… not exactly. It’s a layer of… skin really. It’s not real in the sense that it’s a part of someone’s body. However! I replicated it from leftover protein samples I found. Sherlock: What's it used for? Yellir: Oh, I’m SO glad you asked. It’s a regenerative layer of skin that can be easily grafted onto a patient. It skips the proliferative phase of the humanoid body’s natural healing ability. Ensuring that, potentially, in a matter of seconds and or minutes, depending on wound severity, it can knit back ripped open flesh and allow the immune system to focus solely on clearing out bacteria. It’s a little redundant, given we have dermal regenerators and whatnot, but I thought it could be fun. Maybe useful in the rare case someone is intolerant to the devices or something. As Aine grabbed for powercells, Hallia rambled on and on, explaining her process behind the idea as well as the parts she found most interesting in her mind. The Yelikan nodded, thinking of the security officer as such an amazing listener. Sherlock: That's fascinating. :: handing the power cells to Hallia :: So :: beat :: what do you need the phaser for? Yellir: Well, you see, in non-scientific terms, I’m going to shoot it and see what happens. I want to see if it offers any resistance to directed energy weapons. Hallia’s arms carried the lump of items. Using her chin to steady the pile, she continued talking. Sherlock: Response? Yellir: I mean, my hypothesis is that anything above stun is probably going to absolutely smoulder it. But, you never know! Maybe it’s somehow resistant to particle weaponry? ::jokingly:: We could outfit the ship with ablative skin in that case. Sherlock: Response? TAG/TBC ______________________ Lieutenant JG Hallia Yellir Science Officer USS Resolution G239409EK0
  2. A nod to the great @Lephi who dropped in on Resolution just long enough to grace us with this gem:
  3. I cannot take the credit, I'm afraid. That particular bit of genius is the IP of @Meidra Sirin!
  4. Pure poetry from our esteemed captain @Kali Nicholotti. The combination of rich metaphors and the character's personal history woven effortlessly into the narrative made this delightful to read. Cheers, Cap'n! ((Bridge, USS Resolution)) Nicholotti: Engage thrusters, and make for the stars. The stars. In the root of all of her dreams, the stars had been central. No matter what collar she wore, or what role she filled, the dark Cimmerian shade of an endless night, accentuated by the pin[...]s of immolation, were the resounding voices that called to her. They were the hands that pulled her towards the future. And in the long, unending days in which she followed, she found herself ever more drawn into the infinite maw. All while finding herself more and more alone. Yalu: Aye, Captain. Taking her up. Liftoff in five. The voice of David Cody resonated in her head. 'It was lonely in the center chair, but Kay, you are never, ever alone.' There was a warmth there that she had not felt for a long time, and in his absence, she might have moved on. Yet, like with all of the others who had called her friend, lover, sister, daughter...she never had been able to fully let go. Words echoed through the annuls of history, leaving her with memories and an ache deep within that never quite went away. Nicholotti: Steady speed, prepare for transition to the nebula. All of the proper words spilled out of the mouth of a seasoned commanding officer. There were steps to take and things to do and she would execute without flaw. The state of her inner thoughts and the hole that the losses she bore over the years would never make themselves known to the outside. Perhaps it was a good thing that those who knew were long gone. MacKenzie: Any abnormal readings? Yellir: Scanners functioning normally, sir. Etan: response Two pools of crystalline blue locked on to the images on the screen, never betraying the churning thoughts within. Yellir: Shall we brace for impact? Just in case? Yalu: ::gasps in theatrical, mock offence:: How very dare you. MacKenzie: Oh, I’m sure we’ll be just fine… Kali smiled one of her typical grins, a slight bit impish, as Makal had once described it. Etan: response Nicholotti: I don't think our helmsman would crash us twice in one day. Her eyes moved from the screen just as the swirling nebula rose to meet them at the edge of the planet's atmosphere and settled on the Trill at the helm. Pilot to pilot, he had the makings of something great. Sierra Hotel, as her grandfather might have once said. It was what she'd aspired to as a teen behind the controls of the antique jet that she'd inherited upon his death. Yalu: We’re clearing the planet’s atmosphere, Captain. I’m plotting a course out of the Briar Patch at one-third impulse. They were on their way, and Kali turned her attention back to the screen. There were only a few stars that could be seen between the ever coalescing and dispersing colors of the nebula just outside. Yellir: I’m certain we’ll arrive by then in one piece. MacKenzie: There’s that positive thinking! Lieutenant Sherlock, status of the shields? Sherlock: Shields are currently at one hundred percent and holding. MacKenzie: Power levels look stable, Captain… I think we’re good to fire up the engines whenever Mr. Yalu feels comfortable… Everything still stood on a razors edge. At a half impulse, it was going to take some time to get out of the nebula, but she had faith in the little ship that could. Nicholotti: Whenever you're ready, Mister Yalu. Yalu: I’d be delighted, Captain. Bringing the coolant modifications online and increasing speed to one-half impulse. We’ll clear the Patch in just under twenty minutes. After that, warp seven. After that, stars. The sounds of an active bridge were almost music to her ears as they moved further and further from the world that had almost become their grave. Sherlock: Shields holding steady. Nicholotti: Very well, continue our path. MacKenzie: response Yalu: At this rate, we’ll be back in familiar territory by this time tomorrow. ::beat, smirks:: I think that means someone owes me some sapphire wine, but I can’t remember who. Kali smirked towards the back of his head. Apparently she wasn't the only one who wanted to buy him a drink after the hotshot flying he'd done. Sherlock: response Yalu: I’m afraid I will have to insist on collecting it in person. Nicholotti: I am certain you'll have plenty of time to do just that when we are back at 224. MacKenzie / Any: response Yalu: As soon as we’re back in normal space, I’ll contact Deep Space 224 and send them a list of the survivors. Who knows where Starfleet will reassign Hanno’s crew, but I’m sure the Romulans will want to be repatriated as soon as possible. The whole thing was going to be a sticky situation. From her words with the Senator, she knew that there would be little for this group back where they once called home, save for the debris left behind by a sun-gone-nova and the burnt remains of what was their lives. Nicholotti: I am sure the Senator will assist, but their future is likely unknown. We can hope the Federation will help. Any: response Kali nodded. History had a funny way of dictating much of what came after. It echoed in the ears of those who had lived it long enough to make decisions and build whatever kind of future to avoid the trials of the past. She could only hope that the Federation had an eye and the feelings of humanity, even for those who once were enemies. For those who once were not to be trusted. As for her own history, there were walls which kept the tears well hidden behind an ocean of memories never reflected in the crystalline blues. A blanket of calm coolness and a commanding stature that came from having lived, and died, at the hands of time governed her motions, her moves. No matter how much she wanted that to change, time seemed to simply burn hotter. As it was said, time was the fire in which they all burned. Kali's fire burned endlessly, fueled by the severed connections with so many she had loved and lost. Hope, the fighter of such flames, dwindled as she learned of deaths and the continued missing, and as those she had once been close to had faded into their new lives on another side of the galaxy. Time was no friend to her, at least not here and now. Chatter around her continued, and the minutes ticked by until finally, with little fanfare, the swirling colors of the Briar Patch started to thin. As they faded, the points of light shone brighter against an inky blackness that reflected the darker parts of her soul. MacKenzie/Any: Response? Nicholotti: Set course for 224, best speed. Let's go home. Yalu/Any: Responses? ((OOC - With this, we can assume arrival to 224 and the start of some well deserved shore leave!) TAG/TBC -- Fleet Captain Kalianna Nicholotti Commanding Officer USS Resolution R238605KN0
  5. @Etan Iljor is a master of the language. The narrative is so wonderfully descriptive and fully presents the character's point of view in three dimensions. It's always a joy to read your writing, friend! ((Deck 2, U.S.S. Resolution)) As a scientist, Iljor was used to the official terms and designations for things and found the concept of nonclematures to be wildly inaccurate albeit a necessity. He was prone to getting swept up in scientific tangents and to his somewhat mild embarrassment, he would often forget that not everybody learned or understood things in the way that he did. He found himself in one such moment walking down the primary corridor of Deck 2, following Doctor Adea in search of the missing crew of the probably ill-fated S.S. Hanno. Sherlock: I heard you mention that before, what is it? The ‘that’ to which the security officer was referring to was ‘non-baryonic matter’. To Iljor it was simply non-baryonic matter, something that did not interact with an electromagnetic field and did not reflect or absorb such radiation- which made its detection extremely difficult, even by the advanced technologies employed throughout the Federation. It had another designation, derived from humans who tended to label anything they could not see or interact with as something ominous. In truth, there was nothing ominous about non-baryonic matter but Iljor had decided not let the predilection for dramatics get to him. With a smirk, he looked at Aine. Etan: I think the layman’s term for it is: dark matter. Sirin: That binds galaxies together so they don’t just ::shrugs:: spin off into space. If the planet has some connection to it, the gravitational fields would be strong enough to pull in passing ships. Iljor nodded at his best friend’s summation of the topic. Broadly speaking, she was correct and while her definition lacked nuance and scientific oversight- that was by the by. The presence of non-baryonic matter on the planet would certain explain the variable gravity as well as the strange force that hurled hundreds of thousands of rocks at the Resolution and drawn it down into it’s well. Given that it happened quickly and just as the ship begun its approach, Iljor could not help but wonder if there was intelligence at work. He considered the possibility once more, suppressing a shiver that wanted to run from the nape of his neck to the base of his spine. An intelligence that could access and manipulate non-baryonic matter would undoubtedly be powerful- and dangerous. Fortunately, such musings were interrupted by Aine’s welcome change of topic. Sherlock: We need to get to Deck 8, ramp’s there. We can grab whatever supplies we need on the way there. Only problem is, I’m not sure the turbolifts will work. Anyone know the Jeffries Tubes well enough to get us there? Adea: Straight down the next one on the left. Should take us right there. In that moment, Iljor was grateful for the Chief Medical Officer’s intimate knowledge of the diminutive Nova-class ship. While he had built up a working knowledge of the ship’s interior layout, it did not extend to its crawlspaces and maintenance tubes. Sirin: I have been in one, but if we need assistance I’m certain Gnaxac could guide us. Sherlock: Great. Doctor, I recommend we take just medical supplies and phaser rifles. The nearest duranium scan was only a few clicks west of here. Aine made it sound like it just over a ridge, but in reality- it would be a trek over a nigh-inhospitable planet that seemed determined to keep its secret. Iljor harboured no illusion that the journey would be easy. On the contrary, he was expecting to be arduous. Adea: Sounds eminently sensible. Sirin: I suppose we are as prepared as we can be. Still, I have an odd feeling about this place. Sherlock: Response. Etan: Given what we’ve experienced so far, I’m inclined to feel the same as Meid- uh, Counselor Sirin. He chastised himself, remembering that while he and Meidra had formed a close bond in the months since his assignment to Resolution- she was still the ship’s counselor and outranked him. He had been cautioned that it was not unusual for junior officers to befriend those who held seniority- but that they had to remember that fact at all times. Adea: I’m not surprised; how often is a ship literally knocked out of the sky by hundreds of thousands of rocks? What do they have down here? A plethora of catapults? The thought made Iljor snort out a chuckle despite the seriousness of their current predicament. He had come to value the Doctor’s ability to defuse a difficult or grave situation with a humorous comment. Sherlock/Sirin: Response. The Jeffries Tubes beckoned, in all its dark and gloomy majesty. They made their way down it in relative silence, Iljor concentrating on landing on each rung of the ladder cleanly. The last thing he wanted was to misstep and send his friends and colleagues plummeting down the tube to their certain deaths. Given how small the Resolution was, the descent through the tubes to Deck 8 was relatively brief. Iljor stepped off the final rung and onto the decking and went to collect his equipment; a phaser (something he was loathe to use unless he absolutely had to), a palm held flashlight, a visual recording device that fitted across the top of his unruly mop of hair like a band and felt comfortable against his right temple and a tricorder. He checked that the phaser and tricorder were fully charged (they were) and then activated the recording device by pressing a small button behind the small high definition camera. Adea: Right, shall we be off then? Etan: Begin recording, Lieutenant Etan Iljor, Science Officer, U.S.S. Resolution. Location: uncharted planet near outer boundaries of the Briar Patch. ::he looked to Doctor Adea.:: Given the apparent unreliability of the sensors here, I thought this might be a good idea. ::he pointed to the device.:: Adea/Sherlock/Sirin: Response. Iljor holstered his phaser and tricorder, tugged the bottom of his uniform jacket and marshalled his wits about him as the outer airlock opened. As the ramp descended to the ground, they got their first look at the strange new world that lay before them. Underneath a thick blanket of black clouds lay a barren wasteland of rocky spires of dark brown stone. In the near darkness, they looked intimidating and imposing. Iljor activated the flashlight and stepped down the ramp carefully and deliberately. Stepping onto the wasteland he felt a crunching beneath his feet and he looked down, brittle looking plants snaked in vines across the ground that exuded a strange warmth. Etan: Plants. ::he said, a trace of amazement bled into his voice.:: The ground is also warm. Might be geothermal in nature. That would certainly make sense, geothermal and volcanic activity on a sunless world could lead to an atmosphere conducive to life, even if it was not intelligent. Adea/Sherlock/Sirin: Response. Taking a few more steps- and making an effort not to crush any more of the plants- Iljor looked about the stygian vista. Steep cliffs of stone rose on either side of them, towering at least a kilometer or more above them. Resolution had apparently come down in a wide, but unmistakable gorge that was probably ten of millions of years old. He unclipped his tricorder and set about scanning the nearest rocky spire. Unsurprisingly, the tricorder did not want to cooperate, the effects of the Patch obfuscating the readings a great deal. Etan: Readings are patchy but I think this is composed of calcite and aragonite- and it’s natural. ::he turned to look at his colleagues.:: Not crafted. Adea/Sherlock/Sirin: Response. Etan: I wonder if we are the first people to visit this area of the planet. ::the idea took his breath for a moment.:: This is quite something. ::he whispered.:: Adea/Sherlock/Sirin: Response. -- tag/tbc -- Lieutenant (J.G.) Etan Iljor Science Officer U.S.S. Resolution C239203TW0
  6. DS9 had some real tear-jerkers. In addition to the ones already named, I thought The Sound of Her Voice, The Siege of AR-558, and It's Only a Paper Moon really packed a punch in the emotion department. I also cried watching Sub Rosa. Tears of pure, unadulterated joy.
  7. @LtJG Aine Olive Sherlock does a smashing job as a security officer in this sim, thoughtfully working through the intricacies of an upcoming diplomatic negotiation and offering inventive, yet actionable, suggestions for ship's security. Very nicely done! ((Conference Room 'B', Deck 7, USS Resolution)) She hadn't been down on the lower decks much, and if it hadn't been for this meeting, she'd almost have forgotten that Engineering had its own conference room. Walking in a little early with her PADD in one hand and tea number three in the other, two officers were already present. Sherlock: Lieutenant Commander Ilsam ::giving him a wry smile::, good morning. ::turing to Chandra:: Commander Amari, slipping her PADD under her left arm and extending her hand:: it's a pleasure to meet you. Welcome aboard the Resolution. Ilsam: Response Aine returned the Commanders smile as they shook hands. Amari: Thank you. It’s been a wild ride so far. I can’t wait to see what happens when you guys get going. Just then the door to the conference room hissed opened and in walked Dr. T'Suran. Amari: Doctor T’Suran I presume? T'Suran: Response Sherlock: Yes, let's get started. They took their seats around the table and Commander Amari began to lay out what was in store for them. A blue glow fell unto her face as Commander Amari queued up a holo display of a planet of which Aine had never heard of. A brief pause gave everyone just enough time to read the name as Chandra started her brief. Amari: This is Vionus IV, currently disputed territory of two races, the Thama and the Nascaik. Both want it for different reasons, and neither is willing to share. Given that, we’re going to provide mediation and hopefully a peaceful solution. Ilsam/T'Suran: Response Amari: Ah, but that is the question. As the commander put it, to get them to talk, we’ve got to get them in the same room, which might be difficult given that the Thama’s homeworld is smaller than Earth, so they are going to feel mighty heavy when they arrive here. And the Nascaik breathe a methane mixture apparently, so our air will likely end the talks before they begin since they can’t breathe it. Sherlock: ::raising an eyebrow:: At least that will limit their movement on the ship. But then when we need to move them, well, that's going to be tough. Ilsam/T'Suran: Response Sherlock: Adaptations in their quarters will be easy enough. The real question will be where do we put them? Where will the meeting be? And how do we get them there under guard? Any: Response Thinking back to her earlier statement, Aine tried to imagine herself as one of these visiting diplomats. Even with certain, and understandable, restrictions, feeling caged wasn't something she imagined anyone would want. Sherlock: This idea may sound strange ::bites lower lip briefly:: but maybe their escorts onboard could be in EV suits? I know it will look strange, but allowing them some freedom of movement in adapted areas, may feel a little more welcoming. (OOC: Feel free to continue the conversation concerning the needs of our guests.) Chandra looked over at the security officer then. Amari: And of course there’s a security wrench to throw into all of these moving gears. The ends of Aine's mouth curled slightly at the image in her head. Large lumbering gears like in an old clock tower, but instead of a wrench a phaser gets tossed in. She tucked away the childish thought and refocused. Amari: There’s inevitably some who think these talks aren’t worth it and that they should just take what is perceived as theirs. Thus, we are also tasked with making certain this ship, and those aboard in any capacity, are protected. Sherlock: Yes, I skimmed over the briefs on the Thama and Nascaik that Commander Ilsam forwarded to me ::giving Tai a nod::. With some ideas about how to deal with the environmental needs and our limitations with them, I think if we shut down the science labs while they're here, that will give us extra power we may need for adaptations. We could also lock down the ship. Confine all non-essential personnel to quarters, keep the Bridge and Engineering staffed. We could have the extra science personnel working deck patrols, that would allow my security teams and the Marines to focus on our guests. Externally, I'm most worried about the Nascaik. Any: Response Sherlock: If there is indeed disagreement in the higher ranks of the Nascaik, it wouldn't be far out to assume even one of them would want to stop these talks. If we do power down the science labs, we can keep the sensors maxed out. We could also raise shields once everyone's on board to prevent transporting and be ready for an attack. I think even at 20%, they'd do the job. Any: Response Tag/TBC Lieutenant Junior Grade Aine Sherlock Security Officer USS Resolution R239712AS0
  8. There have been some really solid JPs coming out of Resolution lately, but this one I thought was particularly well-crafted by both @Meidra Sirin and @Ensign Aine Olive Sherlock. Dialogue and narrative are nicely balanced and each seemed to effortlessly build upon the other. A great read, crewmates! ((Counseling Office, Deck Two, USS Resolution)) Meidra led the commander out of her office and saw that her next appointment was already there, ready to see her. That was refreshing, and appreciated. So many times, she’d had to track down officers who didn’t see the need to come to required appointments. The ensign seemed to light up at the sight of Ilsam and Meidra wondered if there was a mutual attraction between the two, because he seemed quite happy to see Sherlock. Sherlock: Commander! Good to see you again. Meidra gave them a few moments to converse, while she did a quick check on the captain, whose vitals were still stable. She couldn’t hear anything from her now, and hoped that meant that Nicholotti’s mind was currently at ease. The commander left, and Meidra turned to greet her latest patient. The woman seemed a bit nervous, which was normal in any circumstances, but having just left the scene of such destruction, the emotions were all the more intense, She led her back into the office, gesturing to the well used antique chairs off to one side of the office. Sirin: Ensign Sherlock, please come in. Sherlock: Sorry, Counselor. I'm ready. Sirin: No need to apologize, Ensign. And you can call me Meidra - I don’t really go for formality during sessions. Meidra’s reply brought some ease to Aine. Being fresh out of the Academy, formality being drilled into them as cadets, it was nice to have a semblance of friendliness from a fellow officer. The counselor sat back into her recently vacated seat and picked up her ever present PADD to begin noting the ensign’s concerns. She’d read the reports, but was curious on how the events had played out in Sherlock’s opinion. Sirin: Shall I replicate some tea for you? Barry's, hot, no sugar, splash of milk, correct? Sherlock: :: raising her right eyebrow :: oO Meidra sure did some digging Oo Yes, please. That’d be very nice. Meidra enjoyed the faint look of surprise on Aine’s face. It was always fun shaking up a new visitor a bit, if only to get them out of their own head for a moment and relax. Sirin: Apologies if that seemed too omnipresent of me, I saw you order it recently at the cafe.::smiles as she sips her own tea:: So - I usually use the first session as a way for us to get to know each other a bit. I find that it helps establish a sense of trust. :takes a sip of her tea: Tell me a little about how you became part of Star Fleet. What drew you to this path? Aine accepted the tea from the counselor and pondered the question for a moment, taking a sip.Meidra found that giving people something to hold, like a cup of tea, often helped them center their emotions and focus on their responses more. At times, simple psychology often worked better than complex analysis. Sherlock: Well, to be perfectly honest, it was never an option growing up. I was fairly sheltered. I’d met a couple Star Fleet officers briefly in school. I mean, my parents and I rarely even left Ireland. So...when I was finishing up school...I guess I just wanted to see more. Earth already seemed like a big place to me, but something inside me just wanted even more than that. So I found the nearest Academy recruiter :: gesturing with one hand upwards :: here I am. Meidra nodded. The ensign was a very open and honest individual, and it made sense that they saw things in such a clear way. Later, after a few more missions, that clarity might fade, but for right now - she still had a strong sense of good versus evil. She wondered about their childhood, if their family had also had a love of adventure. Sirin: How did your parents take the news that you wished to enter the Academy? I’d imagine that it was a bit of a surprise to them. Aine felt a bit of a sinking feeling with this one and began to bite her lower lip nervously. Sherlock: At first, not so great. I hadn’t committed to the Academy yet, only talked to the recruiter. I told them and it seemed like all they could ask was “why?” My father, especially, was not happy about it. He definitely wanted me to stay. I don’t know what changed, but for the next month the house seemed really quiet. I barely spoke to them. I’m guessing they talked it over. And one night just sat me down and told me that they were worried. They didn’t feel it was safe. But they understood that it was what I wanted. They never really held me back ever. This was the first time that had ever happened y’know? But, ultimately, they did support my choice. Sirin: Do you have family other than your parents? Sherlock: A couple of uncles, but I rarely ever saw them. No siblings. My fathers parents passed away before I was born and my mother doesn’t speak with her parents. Sirin: Families can be a mosaic of many personalities, sometimes in direct opposition to your own. It can either be a helpful push to change our circumstances, or a hindrance to keep us from our best choices. ::sips drink to keep from mentioning her family:: The journey of self is never a finished endeavor, and my role is partly to assist you as you discover new paths. Aine nodded her head in agreeance. Her own family preferred tradition and the sheltering now seemed like an attempt at forcing it. In turn, she began to understand a little more as to why her parents may have opposed her choice to join Starfleet. Meidra felt a sort of protectiveness over the ensign. Being so far from everything familiar and safe was stressful even for seasoned officers at times. She resolved to do what she could going forward to pay special attention to the onboarding ensigns. Not all of them had a strong sense of independence yet. She glanced down at her PADD, nodding to herself. Sirin: I see this was your first mission - tell me how you see it unfolding. ::pauses:: Do you feel that it was handled correctly? Sherlock: If I were to be completely objective, I would say that we did everything we could. :: bites lower lip, pausing briefly :: Personally, I don’t feel we did. I think we were completely unprepared for what happened. I understand that the Borderlands is where we’re assigned and that we were the ship available :: beat :: well, I guess Star Fleet had no way of knowing either. I don’t know, I guess I feel conflicted. Also, I feel like I let the team down. Ensign Treetus was severely injured. On an away team in which I was the Security Officer. I don’t feel like I lived up to my duties, I guess. As often happens when one thinks of their failure at hand, flashes on previous ones began to creep up. This one was different. This one got someone else hurt. In a way, she felt guilty it was someone else and not her. Sirin: It seems that you know that there was little more you could do to improve the outcome of the mission. ::pause:: Guilt over Ensign Treetus is misplaced. His choices do not reflect on your abilities. Imagine if you had jumped to save him as he did for Commander MacKenzie. What do you think would have happened? Sherlock: I mean :: beat :: well :: staring down, thinking about the situation :: you’re not wrong. It could have been worse, there could have been more team members injured or even killed. I guess it is just guilt, and guilt isn’t always...logical. Sirin: Exactly - you would have run the risk of getting injured yourself and we may have had another lost limb to contend with - your actions in this mission seem justified. Guilt is often portrayed as a negative emotion - something to be avoided. ::pause:: There are no bad emotions, Ensign, they all have a purpose. It is what you choose to do with those emotions that matter. Use your guilt to guide your other feelings. Accept that feeling of helplessness, and you will find that you discover a way to build up the more positive emotions. Aine realized in talking to someone who is half Vulcan, when it came to emotions and how she perceived them compared to the reality of a situation, the Vulcan would be right. A lesson she also realized may be helpful in the future. Guilt had always been a self-punishing system in her life that didn’t always seem logical or practical. Meidra watched the ensign’s reaction to her words, hopeful that they would take root and build into a stronger sense of self. There would be many challenges ahead for the young woman, and having a grasp of her self worth and yes, limitations, would serve her well in her career - and in her life. Sherlock: :: nodding her head generously :: You’re right. You’re absolutely right. :: taking a deep breath :: That’s something I’ve always needed to work on. And I will. Thank you. Sirin : I am always here when you need someone to listen. I may be the counselor, but I hope that you remember that talking things out doesn’t have to be in a formal setting. Feel free to call on me if you need an unofficial ear sometime in the future. With their session over, Aine rose from the chair and gave Meidra a smile and a nod. When she walked out into Sickbay, she realized she was still a little nervous when she noticed the cup of tea still in her hands. She looked around at the nursing staff present, gave a nod, took a sip, and strode of back to her quarters. Ensign Aine Sherlock Security Officer USS Resolution R239712AS0 And Lt JG Meidra Sirin Counseling officer USS Resolution R239707MS0
  9. @Meidra Sinir wrote this, and I thought it was outstanding. (( Prime ministerial offices, Vman – Da’al capital city )) Zeneth watched as the Prime Minister deftly spun his diplomatic web, inwardly rolling her eyes at his use of existential crisis. Always the showman, but was he really in tune with this new audience? StarFleet, from what she’d understood from her research, was not just humans, but many other species. What worked with one species might not be accepted by another. Still, she remained silent as her friend played the benevolent leader, only concerned with the safety of his people. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, of course, but the years in office had shaped him into someone who knew how to work a crowd. Sometimes, she wondered if he realized he was almost two different beings, one being a politician eager to keep his job, and the other, who she saw less and less of lately, the man she’d come to care for as a close friend and mentor. She frowned off camera, and listened to the conversation continue. Ypartin: =/\= Both the Federation and the Klingon Empire have attempted to establish closer relations with us, and you have both received the same answer. Thank you, but no. You have respected our wishes. The Klingons are not. We wish for our neutrality to be respected. =/\= Nicholotti: =/\= Prime minister, I believe that we can work together to attain what you need, though I feel we could do more if we discussed a few things. Would a meeting in person be satisfactory? =/\= Zeneth saw that Ypartin’s skin had turned a deep maroon. He was worried, and he was wondering how to keep the upper hand in a discussion he hadn’t had much time to prepare for; she felt a tinge of guilt at her part in that, but it was too late to reverse their course now. Ypartin: =/\= Fleet Captain, I am amenable to such a request. However, please understand, we are not in the habit of welcoming many visitors. It will take time to make the necessary arrangements for your arrival. I would ask to contact you again on this frequency at the same time tomorrow. =/\= Nicholotti: =/\= Then we shall speak again shortly. Please reach out to us here. =/\= Ypartin: =/\= Thank you, Fleet Captain. =/\= Ypartin cut the transmission and gave Zeneth the full force of his glare. Ypartin: What did I tell you, Zeneth? How are we supposed to claim any kind of moral outrage about a Klingon invasion of our colonies, when I’ve just invited a Federation envoy to set foot on our homeworld? Zeneth: It is hardly the same situation, Ypartin. I don’t see anyone from the Federation laying claim to our homeworld. If we are to survive, we must take risks. I for one, do not wish to risk our people’s lives without allies who understand these Klingons. Ypartin stood up and adjusted his tunic, a nervous tic that came out when he was thinking too much on the things that he could not change. She wanted to reassure him, but what could she say that she hadn’t so far? She could see he was in Prime Minister mode now, and she would treat him as such. Ypartin: We have one day to prepare for this, Zeneth, so we must move quickly. I will address the people tonight. Let them know what is happening. I cannot keep them in the dark any longer. Zeneth: Do you think they will understand? I know this was my idea, but the people have never had to face such a situation before. Ypartin: I know. It is a tremendous risk. But if we’re going to survive this intact, it’s time the people know that the enemy here is the Klingons, not the Federation. Zeneth: I understand. What would you have me do, sir? Ypartin: I am putting my trust in you, my friend. Please see to the preparations. Find a suitable, secure location in the city for us to meet with the Federation representatives. Can you have everything in place by midday tomorrow? There was something going on, Zeneth was sure of it. That nervous tic of adjusting his clothes was a sure giveaway that he was up to something. She couldn’t accuse him of anything, but he had been too accepting of this visit by the Federation and she knew he valued his popularity above all else. It saddened her to think that she really did not know him anymore, but they had chosen their own paths since the election. Zeneth: Of course, the conference hall in Military Unit Three will be sufficient. My generals there are trustworthy, and have trained alongside me in martial arts not well known to the populace. We will be ready. Ypartin: I know I am asking a lot, and I have every confidence in you. ::beat:: I am certain you have plenty to do, and I have a speech to write. Keep me informed. Zeneth made her way out of opulent office, down the hall and through the checkpoint, all the while thinking, planning, getting angrier as she realized that Ypartin was never going to just let the Federation come in and play the hero when he built himself up so carefully over the years. (( Military Unit Three, Zeneth’s office, Vman – Da’al capital city )) A large man with dark purple skin and clear green eyes was waiting for her when she arrived. General Ulner had taught her as a child to fight in the ways of the Vinian elders, knowing that the religion was not followed by many. He had been her grandfather’s greatest friend and had been a stern teacher as she went through the twelve levels of Ha’shar, the Vinian’s fighting technique. Even Ypartin did not know she was a follower of Vinia, and today, she was very grateful for that. Ulnar: You seem troubled. Is that upstart giving you grief again? Zeneth had told the general everything she knew about the Klingons coming closer, the Federation visit, her fears about Ypartin not believing that she could actually be an asset to their cause. He had, of course, offered to simply hang the man over the edge of his office window until he saw sense, but Zeneth had reminded him that was against the law. Zeneth: Ypartin spoke with the captain of the StarFleet vessel. He said all the right things, but they felt wrong. I fear that he is thinking as a politician and not as a leader. She started pacing, muttering prayers under her breath, it was not the same as actual meditation, but if she concentrated, she could still tap into the river of time as she had in her apartment, and try to see what was happening. She let her mind go back fifteen minutes, over the compound, past soldiers and farmers and people come to see the Prime Minister’s favor. Finally her mind focused on Ypartin after she had left him. She saw him watch her leave, she saw him put a chip into his terminal, she saw him - Zeneth’s eyes flew open. He wouldn’t, he would not be so blind! She didn’t know who he had given that order to, but when she found out, as military advisor, she would be certain that one of her generals would be escorting him to the brig once this was over. And as for Ypartin, well, she would just have to wait and see what his plan was. Her heart constricted and she placed a hand below her ribcage, where it sat, betrayed and angry. Her eyes flew to her most trusted general and she shared her vision. The two of them made a pact of secrecy. They would not act until they had all of the facts, but one thing was clear. Ypartin was no longer the friend she had sworn her allegiance to five years ago. End scene for Zeneth MSPNPC Zeneth Da'al Military Advisor as simmed by Ensign Meidra Sirin Counseling Officer USS Resolution Marie R239707MS0
  10. My vote goes to Winn Adami, for seven years of slow burns.
  11. I'm torn between something with quintessential Star Trek anthemic melancholy... and a straight up bop.
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