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Segolene LeMarnix

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Segolene LeMarnix last won the day on January 3 2013

Segolene LeMarnix had the most liked content!

About Segolene LeMarnix

  • Birthday July 16

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    Not a member of UFOP: SB 118

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  1. Sorry Captain, misunderstanding - you are talking of how to accomplish less reading while I'm trying to get ships that don't participate in the contest attracted to join.
  2. My comment in last year's topic about improving the contest was to ask those who are proposing the sim to explain the reasons. That way we would be also introduced to the story behind the sim - to that "personal" resons, or character development side of the sim. How? How would you get writers to apply into that committee?
  3. I don't know about improving, I made a comment when just arrived about it and now have to say I strongly believe it would be very wrong to implement it, because it would get even less people to post the sims. Question is can we have everything - better participation from all the ships and less to read. We can't have both, and I vote for better participation. I believe that each ship has at least one writer who is active on the Forum, so that one should be in charge of reminding shipmates of not just Top Sim Contest, but everything that is going on on the forum and remind them to visit here more often.
  4. ((Captain's Quarters, USS Discovery)) ::It came from decades of serving aboard a starship. The subtle, yet distinct sound of a starship dropping out of warp. He awoke slowly, warmth and comfort fighting him each step of the way. Kieran lay beside him and he smiled, realizing that part of the comfort he felt was the change in the bond between them. Before, the bond was a burden, feeling incomplete and fractured, and he realized that this was from their indiscretion the night they had met. Now, the bond was still there, but it was whole, complete, and instead of weakness it provided strength. Unfortunately for Kieran, it gave Tyr the strength he needed to go through with what he intended to do.:: ::Rising from the bed, he gently kissed her forehead, then covered her back up with the blankets, trying his best not to wake her. He moved to the shower and let the real water run over him; hot, relaxing and cleansing. When the shower was through he pulled on a towel, and retrieved his dress whites from the closet. Pulling on underwear and then the uniform, he combed out his long hair and tied it into a ponytail. The Captain checked himself in the mirror, then turned to look at the sleeping form of Kieran one more time.:: WALTAS::Softly:: I'm sorry, Kieran. I have to do this. ((Turbolift, USS Discovery)) o O One more time. O o ::He was in his dress whites, with campaign ribbons, medals and citations dripping from the left breast area of the uniform. Four golden pips gleamed from the white collar, and his black polished boots echoed as he stepped onto the bridge. In full military dress, he looked like the heroes of old he'd seen in the pictures of the Federation and back through military history. Picard. Kirk. Archer. Petraeus. Nimitz. Halsey. McArthur. Eisenhower. Patton. Sherman. Grant. Jackson. Washington. Although the Ba'ku was too modest to compare himself to any of the figures, he would acknowledge the similarity in appearance. All of them echoed through time, their pictures with their shining ribbons and medals, rank insignias and deeds forever burned into the pages of history. Old warriors, fading with time.:: ::Discovery was docked. The bridge was empty. Moored at the repair facility high above Earth, Discovery was a ghost town. He walked in silently, taking in every console, every chair, every station. His long career had placed him at all of the stations except Science and Engineering (and Starfleet had likely saved several ships by ensuring he didn't occupy these posts), but the place he had felt most at home and, truthfully, fit him the best (whether he liked it or not) was the command chair.:: ::He'd earned his fourth pip quite some time ago, taking over from Captain McCall, who had gone on to found the Intel wing of Discovery. He had seen a long, fairly distinguished career, having commanded Discovery through many trials and tribulations. The Saurians. The Dyson Sphere. Q's meddling. The Camelot adventure. Countless others.:: ::He moved from the command chair to the First Officer's chair, his hand resting on the back headrest. He had been in Raj's place. He was McCall's First Officer, with the two working together to accomplish herculean tasks-including defending the entire Starbase with a fleet of Starships against a Romulan incursion. He had disobeyed McCall's final command, racing to rescue him from his Romulan captors before they executed him. It was during this mission that Tyr had earned his fourth pip, and he hoped that Raj was well on his way to following in his footsteps.:: ::Before that he was Second Officer on Starbase 118-Ops as a Lt. Commander. He remembered taking the original Discovery out on his first cruise in command, the run-in with the pirates and their subsequent arrest. He moved to the now-dark Security station. He was a Lieutenant on the Constitution, Tactical officer. His hand gently touched the Sisko Tactical Cross he'd earned during that time, mostly for his maneuvers against the Borg. He'd paid a heavy price for that medal-nearly being killed after being assimilated and turning against his crew.:: ::Finally, he walked to the two front stations. He'd occupied both, but his love was helm, and it was the first duty post he'd ever had. An accomplished pilot, Tyr never had lost his love of flying, and maneuvering the massive Galaxy-class Constitution had earned him the respect of his crewmates. Giving the Helm station a final, gentle pat, he walked back to the turbolift doors. They slid open silently.:: WALTAS::Softly:: Goodbye. ::He turned his back on the bridge and entered the turbolift.:: WALTAS: Transporter Room 1. Override stops. ::The turbolift chirped obediently, taking the Captain to the transporter room. He stepped in, finding Raj waiting for him, similarly dressed. He offered an encouraging smile.:: ==================================== Captain Tyr Waltas Commanding Officer USS Discovery
  5. ((Spawning Ground, The Void)) :: Iron Breaker could sense them before he even reached their ancient spawning ground. Or rather he could sense the absence of them. The Hardskins were immune to their natural powers. Entirely invulnerable to the control they so easily asserted over others, and it was that immunity that made them a void in the sea of thoughts the Collosoforms swam through. One Hardskin limped towards a massive concentration of its kind, further off and another, stranger, Hardskin sat silently in space. This stranger was different. Iron Breaker could sense them in the void sea. Hundreds of thoughts and emotions glowing like a hundred stars, each a separate voice. But among those lights there were voids. Like the Predators that have dogged their people since time immemorial. And on the Hardskin Predator, where there was always cold void, emptiness, there was now a handful of lights. :: :: Iron Breaker seethed. Born in Broken Light postured and flashed like the youngling that he was, always ready to first warn and threaten. Never acting. Iron Breaker acted. The old, scarred veteran undulated forwards, gaining speed quickly. He dispensed with flashing off a threat, and instead allowed his anger and fury to set him in a pure white glow. His carapace was pitted and cracked along nearly every foot. A half dozen massive metal spars stuck from him in odd angles, war trophies he'd earned fighting the Hardskin Predators for multiple generations. Their harpoons still glinting in the dull light he gave off. One of his feelers was missing, sheared off by the Predators grasping claws before he had torn it completely off in his rage and spilled the Predators into the sea. To his kind he was ancient and knarled, no longer young and swift like Born in Broken Light, but massive and immensely powerful. A warrior with few equals among his people, and a storied history filled with shattered Hardskins and countless victories. :: :: He moved directly towards the new threat and dispensed with the usual psychic bow wave his kind usually put off. Instead he focused his mind towards rousing the swarms that clung in torpor to his carapace. The twitched and rose groggily, quickly shaking off their slumber and becoming aware. Iron Breaker aimed for the long flat disc that made up the new Hardskins bulk and angled his strike to drag and skid along its top surface. He rocketed past Born in Broken Light without so much as a pulse of greeting and slammed into the Hardskin with gratifying force. He raked along it's edge from one end to another and felt a burst of satisfaction as multiple holes were opened by his rigid flank. The swarm needed no further encouragement and went to work. :: :: Passing the rear of the Hardskin, Iron Breaker turned tightly between the two glowing spars of the creature and coiled to strike again. This time he rose up between the spars and past the disk, up and up until he was looking down on the new, weaker Hardskin. He paused a moment to take in this new foe and wondered why it hadn't clumsily fired any spears at him yet. It made no matter. The lights inside were flickering and dying in places and he was hungry to snuff out others. Like a shot he descended on the Hardskin and smashed through an invisible barrier of force. The act hurt but it was not beyond him to breach it and he screamed into the void as he shattered the field. The feedback shook him inside and made him sick for a moment, but it only arrested his descent by a fraction and he smashed into the top of the disk section, rupturing the Hardskin in multiple places. :: :: With a roar Iron Breaker found purchase with his carapace and gripped hard, buckling the Hardskin beneath him. With enough force and a good grip he would begin to tear this foe creature to shreds. :: Iron Breaker Cosmozoan Guardian and Warrior as simmed by Lieutenant Oliver Weston Intelligence Officer USS Drake
  6. Happy Birthday, kid. Hope to see you back one of this days.

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