[Lt. Jg. Karen Stendhal The Ho.C.A. holographic Counselor Assistant]

 

Interesting inspiration 😉

[USS Ronin Quotes that will have you Ronin around excited]

::walks in discreetly just to drop something and runs out::

 

 

[LtJG Gila Sadar - Promotee's Guilt]

8 hours ago, Gila Sadar said:

Don’t get used to it, ‘cause I’m never getting promoted again 😑

 Keeping this saved for the next time...

Lieutenant

[LtJG Gila Sadar - Promotee's Guilt]

There are too many reason for this to be appreciated. From @Addison MacKenzie description, to @Gila Sadar reaction it really is a great reading.

But honestly it is the opportunity to tease @Gila Sadar who secretly aspired to be in the Harry Kim Club (or Ensigns Forever Group) and again tell you:

 

Hit the Sickbay Doc

You ain't an Ensign no more, no more, no more

 

Quote

((The Fifth Chalice - Oxeania Commercial District, Tharazad, Betazed))

 

 

 

MacKenzie: I’m glad to have you all here with us. Mr. Dakora introduced me to this bar a few days ago, and I’ve been thinking about it as a place to host a little awards celebration. As many of you know by now, Commander Yalu has needed to step away from his duties for the time being, and Commander Dakora has graciously accepted my offer to become our new First Officer. Would you please congratulate – and properly harass – him?

 

 

The small planetside bar erupted into an applause teetered between excited and polite, as the crew of the Artemis - gathered on Betazed for the culmination of their Shore Leave - formally greeted their new XO. Gila also participated in the applause, though in a restrained manner, as she tried to mentally provide herself the ability to fuse with the architecture. Why the brass had decided to leave the familiar confines of Elysium was a mystery to her, but it wasn’t like she could question them openly about this decision, nor could she very well refuse to attend the ceremony…

 

 

Wait, could she? She made a mental note to discuss that option with someone.

 

 

Dakora: Response

 

 

The applause settled down as the Captain moved on.

 

 

MacKenzie: I hope you have all found time to rest, recharge, and take advantage of the hospitality offered by this beautiful world. There were a lot of traumas from our last mission – physical and emotional scars that no doubt run deep after being betrayed by, well, ourselves. But, I’m as proud now as I’ve ever been by how you continue to perform your duties in ways that no doubt make you among the best officers in Starfleet. (beat) Which is why we’re here tonight!

 

Gila had the decency to turn slightly magenta as she lowered her head. Suddenly, she vividly recalled the Triple Order she’d gotten from both the Captain, Lt. Jones and Commander Yalu on their last shoreleave. She hadn’t been following that one this shoreleave at all. She only hoped the Captain would find it in her heart to ignore the number of double shifts Gila had pulled this shoreleave… Unlikely, but Gila was still green enough that the maintenance of some semblance of naïvete could be forgiven, surely.  

 

 

MacKenzie: It’s not often you face your counterparts… From another place, from another time… To be faced with the very real possibility of how you might have turned out differently if you’d faced a different set of circumstances… For your encounter with the Desdemona and their crew, I hereby award you the Quantum Reality Service Medal.

 

 

Gila did a clumsy bow to the First Officer as he passed throughout the crowded bar, handing over the service medal to every crewmember assembled. These ribbons were her favorite by far - the ones where you didn’t have to move a step, and no one paid you any special attention, since everyone and their mother got one. Ah, the beauty of anonymity.

 

 

MacKenzie: I’d like to continue by calling Ensigns Z’Vahme, Kel, and Chevalier to the front, please.

 

 

Gila looked upon her fellow Ensigns with slight sympathy, as they were called upon to do the obligatory ‘greeting to the crew’. It didn’t matter that it was sugar coated with a ribbon - it was just one way that the senior crew devised to get you used to all the attention being forced upon you… Paranoid? Maybe. Guiltily, Gila receded back to her space at the wall, trying to seem as small as possible. She wasn’t expecting any recognition herself - she’d accomplished very little of note during their encounter with the Desdemona, after all - so she was looking forward to a nice and calm award ceremony where she could stand in silence for seven minutes before hurrying back up to the Artemis.

 

 

MacKenzie: I haven’t had a formal opportunity to introduce the three newest officers to the rest of the senior staff. Ensign Z’Vahme will be joining us as our new helmsman, Ensign Chevalier in the operations department, and Ensign Kel as our newest security officer. Also, it is my great pleasure as your commanding officer to formally award you with the Starfleet Academy Graduate Ribbon. Would you please welcome our newest officers?

 

 

Z’Vahme/Kel/Chevalier: Response

 

 

Polite clapping.

 

 

Gila wondered how Ensign Kader was doing. He seemed a good, if impulsive man, and while a reprimand was well deserved for the chaos he caused, she knew that he deserved her pity. Anyone served a reprimand and suspension of duty by Captain MacKenzie deserved sympathy. She didn’t know much of his replacement - this Ensign Z’Vahme - but she knew from the medical logs forward from Starfleet Academy that both him and Ensign Solas were Vulcans.

 

 

And then there was the curious Eltharian - a subspecies of Humans, whose culture was as foreign as could be.

 

 

MacKenzie: Mr. Chevalier, if you’d remain a moment… And if I could ask Commander Dakora, Lieutenant Yellir, and Ensign Savel to join him…

 

 

The First Officer, Lt. Yellir (who Gila recognized from the drill she’d so recently undertaken) and Ensign Savel moved to the Captain’s position, as she procured another box.

 

 

It was quite fortuitous that replicators were commonplace in Starfleet, or award boxes would surely cause a huge deforestation crisis.

 

 

MacKenzie: You each faced particularly perilous circumstances on our last mission. ::looking at Savel:: The catastrophe in Sickbay… ::looking at Yellir:: Facing off with alt-Dakora in Engineering… ::looking at Chevalier and Dakora:: Trying to make sense of which me was the real me, and facing off against… whatever that cybernetic being of theirs was…

 

 

oO Likely an advanced version of an Eltharian, forced by circumstances of war, a lack of resources and an increasing detachment from the idea of a humanity ill-fit to combat the growing threat of the Sh- Oo

 

 

MacKenzie: For the way each of you has handled your respective situations, I’m proud to award each of you the Good Conduct Ribbon.

 

 

Yellir/Savel/Chevalier/Dakora: Responses

 

 

Applause picked up again, every crewmember assembled paying the proper respects to those of their colleagues who had faced down threats with the honor and integrity befitting of a Starfleet Officer.

 

 

 MacKenzie: Lieutenant Jovenan…

 

 

Gila perked up.

 

 

It could be construed as silly that she was invested in the idea of Lieutenant Jovenan receiving recognition - after all, they had only barely managed to cross the threshold into personal acquaintances at this point - but she had been under the Edo Lieutenant’s leadership enough times for her to know that Lieutenant Jovenan was well-deserving of accolades, and it pleased her to know that the Captain shared that opinion.

 

 

MacKenzie: Lieutenant, without your scientific intuition and incredible work ethic, I’m not sure that we would have been able to figure out how the prismagons worked… and if we wouldn’t have been able to sort that out, I’m not sure we would have been able to send the Desdemona crew back to their universe. For your work, I hereby award you the Innovation Ribbon.

 

 

The Lieutenant and Gila had both received that very same ribbon for their work on the anti-knockout gas during the Suliban boarding, and Gila couldn’t help but clap a bit more enthusiastically than perhaps was proper. As a researcher, she dared say that no other ribbon was quite as prestigious, or indicative of one’s dedication to the advancement of knowledge.

 

 

A fitting reward for the Lieutenant’s work.

 

 

Lieutenant Jovenan seemed about ready to run away from the stage at that moment - and Gila more than sympathized - so when the Captain stopped her with but a gesture, Gila startled as well.

 

 

MacKenzie: Not so fast…

 

 

Gila tip-toed slightly, trying to see past the significant amount of people between her and what was occurring at the front, and thanks to her height, it did actually help a great deal. Another box was positioned before the Lieutenant, and the expression on the blonde female’s face told of the significance of the moment before the Captain even started talking.

 

 

MacKenzie: Lieutenant JG Jovenan, you have continued to act in accordance with the best traditions of Starfleet. You have displayed good leadership qualities, mindfulness and empathy toward others, and you continue to serve as an example to be followed by everyone on this ship. It is both my duty and my privilege to promote you to the rank of full Lieutenant.

 

 

The applause resumed, this one far more cacophonous than the one before. Ribbons were markings of good conduct in a single instance, of a feat of excellence contained in a moment. Well worth celebrating, but nowhere near as much as an actual promotion.

 

 

However, the Captain was not yet done.

 

 

MacKenzie: I also continue to be impressed with your creativity and your scientific ingenuity. On countless occasions, I think about how your contributions to our work have in some instances been singularly responsible for getting us out of tricky situations. And that’s why I can think of no better person to serve as our Chief Science Officer, effective immediately.

 

 

oO “I’m… I’m not good at this. This whole leading thing.” Oo

 

 

Gila’s palms were starting to sting from the amount of clapping she was doing today, but it was hardly a concern.

 

 

Jovenan: Th-thank you, sir!

 

 

Gila almost forgave the existence of award ceremonies for moments like that. The genuine celebration of capable officers who proved that Starfleet existed to do great things, both in terms of diplomacy, science and exploration.

 

 

MacKenzie: There’s just one other matter. …Doctor Sadar?

 

 

But just almost...

 

 

Every bit of joy Gila had previously felt for the celebration of the Lieutenant was sapped out of her tall body in an instant, as she clumsily stumbled her way through the crowd towards the Captain. The horrible consequence of mainaintaing a peripheral position at events such as these became apparent when one’s superiors deemed fit to call you to the opposite end of the event. The sheer mass of people she had to pass through prolonged this excruciating situation far beyond what was well, and by the time she’d reached the Captain’s side, standing taller than the imposing Human woman even as she hunched over in an attempt to fold herself into a pocket of space-time unavailable to ordinary mortals, her anxiety band was twisting regularly on her finger.

 

 

MacKenzie: Doctor Sadar, you are… weird.

 

 

Gila turned the deepest of magentas at this comment, and she almost wanted to croak out a ‘sorry’, even as she felt friction burns on her finger.

 

 

MacKenzie: When you came aboard the Artemis, you were timid, and skittish, and I’m pretty sure you were on the verge of wetting yourself every time I walked in the room.

 

 

oO Was reprimands always on the itinerary of award ceremonies? Was it announced on the intercom? Did I miss the internal message about it? Oo

 

 

Before Gila had the chance to faint from panic at the very idea that she’d somehow missed a vital message about an incoming reprimand, and that she should prepare to be ceremonially airlocked from the Artemis upon their return, the Captain continued.

 

 

MacKenzie: But you are also an exceptional physician. I have watched the way you have interacted with your patients and the way you have started to form friendships with your colleagues. I have also seen the way you stand up for what you believe in, even if that means offering a dissenting opinion. Despite whatever insecurities you may have, I hope I no longer cause you any anxiety, as I believe you have the makings of an exceptional officer. One that has certainly earned my respect and the respect of everyone gathered here. It is my privilege as your commanding officer to promote you to the rank of Lieutenant JG.

 

 

Gila’s dark eyes grew to the size of plates the longer the Captain continued. Not just because the Captain - THE Addison MacKenzie - was offering Gila (ostensibly) genuine compliments, but also for the contents of those compliments.

 

 

An excellent physician? The makings of an exceptional officer!?

 

 

If it wasn’t because A) her father wouldn’t care enough to do so and the Captain was far too respectable a person to accept such a thing, Gila would’ve suspected bribery. Attempting to stand as straight as possible to allow for the addition of the hollow pip, while also continuously trying to sneak a glance to ensure that she wasn’t actually having a horrible nightmare, and trying to ignore the applause occurring within the bar in order to avoid the guilt that would surely set in in a moment, Gila awaited blissful release from this most awkward of positions.

 

 

Sadar: ::barely intelligible mumblings::

 

 

Gila moved back to stumble back into the throng of people, avoiding the gazes of anyone who attempted to offer congratulations, as the Captain continued behind her. Somehow, words rang hollow in her mind, the incredulous vacuum not quite translating their meaning until much later.

 

 

MacKenzie: Alright, that’s it! Food should be out shortly – congratulations to all of you!

 

 

oO I want to go home Oo

 

 

Jovenan: Doctor Sadar! 

 

 

oO SEVEN MINUTES! Oo

 

 

Jovenan: ::reaching her, smiles:: Congratulations, Lieutenant! You’re the one of us who deserved that honour the most!

 

 

Gila’s mouth ran dry at the Lieutenant’s congratulatory smile as she wrung her hands in front of her.

 

 

Sadar: Th-Thank you, Sir...

 

 

The Edo’s bright eyes turned analytical, and Gila almost shirked away in shame, but her legs had somehow turned into stubborn marble and refused to be coerced.

 

 

Jovenan: How are you feeling? Did you not expect for a promotion?

 

 

Gila cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable with the subject topic.

 

 

Sadar: A-Absolutely not… That is, uh… I mean, there’s many excellent officers on this vessel far senior to me that I now outrank! ::shudders:: It… ::pauses as she searches for a way to explain:: T-To speak plainly, it’s, uhh, well, we could call it culture shock, I suppose…
 

 

Jovenan: Response

 

 

Sadar: I come from a culture where anciennity is the most key consideration for career advancement… So, it’s uhh… It’s hard to shake the feeling that I’ve done something wrong. ::pause:: B-But, that’s not to say I’m not grateful, of course!

 

 

Jovenan: Response

 

 

Gila breathed out slightly at this, nodding as the twisting of her anxiety band gradually slowed down.

 

 

Sadar: Yes Sir… I’ll try. ::shows a more earnest expression:: Congratulations to you as well, Sir. I’m happy your, uhh… Well, congratulations.

 

 

Jovenan: Response

 

 

 

TAG/TBC

 

 

 

LtJG Gila Sadar

Medical Officer

USS Artemis-A

A240006GS1

 

[Artemis-cellaneous: Memorable whatevers from The Borderlands]

10 hours ago, Jovenan said:

@Vitor S. Silveira, I love you and I hate you (not really)!

 

For context, Silveira calls Jovenan "Nan". A few days ago in Discord, some of us admitted they were initially confused by that!

Sim

 

Later

 

You all should know by now not to fuel my chaotic plot writing mind

[2023 Halloween Avatar Contest: Artemis check-in]

EDIT: Vitor Silveira checking in... 

Spoiler

forgot that part

 

I don't know this Pokemon name, but I was told it fires phasers and torpedoes, so I had to catch it.

 

 

[2nd Lieutenant Lux - The Shinty End of The Stick]

Most of us know that the last sim we write on a ship is always a tough one. @LuxaLorana has already said her goodbyes to the crew, but our mission that as taken us to another universe, with different characters, have give us such great scenes. And here we have the final scene from Lux, Lorana's alter ego, in one of the most heartbreaking goodbyes I have read. And I have read quite a few. 

I know you will enjoy the Ronin as much as you enjoyed the Artemis, but allow me the selfishness to say that I am sorry to see you go.

 

Quote

((OOC - this will be my last sim as a member of the Artemis crew *tears* as I'm struggling to keep up with Artemis, Ronin and Denali. It's been an absolute privilege simming with you bunch of wonderful weirdos! Don't be a stranger, my door is always open to all of you - drop me a DM for a chat!))

((Somewhere on the Shint Ship))

3:05

With her superior eyesight she managed to navigate through the darkened access tunnel. Lux was forced to admit that she enjoyed setting off the explosions below. 

The howls of pain coming from the Shint and the Mizarian collaborators did not give her a sense of pleasure, nor did it plague her mind with remorse. 

It was a job to be done. The most important job in the Galaxy. She did not doubt that those Mizarian slaves and collaborators were as much victims as they were to the Shint. 

Dangerous victims. 

Sato: We need to go!

The clock was running down now. 

Savel: The Mizarians have escaped. It is logical to assume they will return with reinforcements.

Lux: I only have two more explosives we could use. I'll save them for our escape. 

Sato: Then don't worry about them. We can barricade the next door. We're running out of time. Now move!

2:58

With the way clear, all of them moved through to the next room and let the door shut behind them. As soon as it did, the panel next to it was destroyed and hopefully, the door was rendered useless now. At least long enough that the could get what they wanted.

((Prismagon Reactor Room, B0/-1L2-3, Shint Cruiser))

From where they entered the room, they could look down on the reactor below. It had to be where the prismagons were. And their opposition didn't look like they were going to be able to put up much of a fight. Not for the already amped-up trio that had just stormed in on them.

Savel: I will leave one alive. Unfortunately.

Lux: :: looks down at the Shiny :: Look at them. The real evil, the ones who control the prismagon. 

The engineers and scientists all looked as if they were too busy working on the reactor to pay much attention to anyone who had gotten inside. Plus, it's not like anyone had ever really pulled this off on a Shint vessel. They couldn't have expected intruders in this part of the ship.

Lux dropped down to ensure they had some cover, Savel used the opportunity to pick off a few of them beforehand. 

The armed Shint fought back, yet it was easier than she thought to clear the room. She had used her rifle, claws and knives to dispatch the Shint to whichever place they thought of as hell. 

By the end of everything, there was only one left standing and he wasn't left that way long as Harry rendered the Shint into nothing more than a hostage to keep the lights on.

2:45

Sato: Two minutes, forty-five seconds. Savel, Lux, get that prismagon out, and let's get the hell out of here. I don't know how long that door's going to hold, and we still need to find an alternate route back to the pod.

Savel: We will work quickly.

Lux: I'll manage the controls, we'll need to be careful. 

2:40

As Savel ran up to the reactor and dropped his bag down beside it, Lux went to the control panel below the reactor.  

Savel: I will retrieve it. It will be extremely hot since we do not have time for the reactor to cool down.

Lux: We'll need to do an emergency shutdown. We don't want to destroy ourselves. You should be able to find a side panel? 

Lux had studied every inch of the leaked intel. She keyed in what she hoped would be the command for an emergency shutdown. The panel made a loud and prolonged beep and then began to flash. 

The Vulcan pried off one of the side panels for the reactor to give him access to the inside. 

There it was.

Lux: Savel, I think you should just remove it now. We may have triggered an alarm! 

He was now staring at what could possibly be the answer to the question of how they'd ever win this war. His eyes stared at it for a second or so longer than he had time for. It at least let him see what was holding it in place. Only two clamps were keeping it from him, so he worked swiftly to remove them.

2:35

Lux keyed in a counter alarm, hoping that would disconnect the computer core to the reactor. 

The noise from the panel stopped. 

Savel just had to yank the plugs away and it was all his. With a firm tug, all the cables attached dropped from their hookups and now nothing was keeping it inside. He breathed in deeply, filling his lungs as he prepared himself for the pain he'd be experiencing in mere seconds. 

There was nothing else left to do but reach out for it, which he did; placing both hands on either side of the prismagon. It began to burn intensely, a sizzling sound that meant he was losing layers with each passing moment. It took everything in him not to scream out before he just dropped the thing into the bag below.

Hopefully, these things were sturdy.

Lux went to Savel, patted him on the back. 

2:30

Savel's bag was coated with enough material to keep it from burning through, and the prismagon was cooling slightly now that it was out of the reactor. He did his best to seal it with wounded hands and brought it up onto his back.

The Vulcan then turned to face the rest of his group, the tone of his speech giving away the evidence of his discomfort.

Savel: I have it. Do we have our escape route?

Lux: It's likely we'll need to fight our way back. We don't have the element of surprise or confusion anymore. 

Sato: Responses

There was a nod from Savel. 

Lux: I have a dermal regenerator. Let me see your hands. 

Lux slipped her paw into her jacket, removing the small device and ran it over them. 

Sato/Savel: Responses

Lux: It's not going to be completely healed but at least you'll be able to carry the bag. Your fingers will need surgery. :: to Harry :: He won't be able to use his rifle or even a knife. 

2:19

Sato/Savel: Responses

Lux: No. The explosives can only be armed by me. It's the way Rasa designs them, we don't want our weapons to be used against us :: beat :: By anyone. 

Sato/Savel: Responses

Lux thought it was ironic that the very measures in place to protect them were working against her in this moment. 

Lux: :: to Harry :: We don't have time to debate it. You need to cover Savel, and make sure the Prismagon makes it back. :: beat ::  Its the only thing that matters. 

A silent second passed between the three of them as the truth of what was being said remained unspoken. 

2:05

They moved quickly. Harry taking point, Savel in the middle and Lux flanking them both. 

Sato: Response

Almost on cue, the door was forced open by the Shint, melting into several pieces and molting onto the floor. 

oO do these monsters know only destruction Oo

Mayhem quickly ensued. Harry and Savel moved along as if propelled by jet fuel. She focused on taking out as many Shint as she could, allowing them both to move further forward, fighting their way bravely through the crowd. 

1:54

The Shint began to splinter. A small group tried to follow Harry and Savel and then there was the group that focused on her. 

She felt a blast hit her body, which threw her across the room, hitting the ground with a bone breaking thud. 

Pain. Every neuron in her body seemed to explode at once. There was nothing else she could think of except for her body that screamed in an agony she'd never felt before. 

She writhed on the floor, only partially aware of others. Shouts and screams beyond her. 

Harry and Savel, fighting for their lives. 

There was no hope. 

The Prismagon. She needed to make sure the Prismagon got to the Desdemona. 

She was surrounded by Shint. She allowed herself one last smile, and a solitary tear. 

The explosives armed, she rolled one over so that it rested slightly beyond the group that held down Harry and Savel. 

The Shint looked dumbfounded for a moment as she raised the other explosive above her head. 

She closed her eyes and allowed the image of M'Bel, Rasa and Della to come to her. They were home. The family was there and the Shint never existed. It was a perfect fantasy, yet it somehow felt real… another reality. Another family and a life without the Shint. 

Laughter. Joy.  

Boom. 

End of Lux.

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

2nd Lieutenant Lux
Science and Tactical Officer
CIC Desdemona 
A240004LL2

 

[Denali Invitational Quotes to remember the Chaos fondly]

7 hours ago, Alora DeVeau said:

From the narration of Silveira: 

 

I just love this analogy!

 

I appreciate the mention but credit is due to where credit is own. That's actually by @Cirus Almonaster V

[MdJG Jovenan – Almost like another world]

10 minutes ago, Ensign Sadar said:

Oh please, Princess is 100 percent better than that one too. Don't be crude!

Vik isn't Sil... But weren't we supposed to keep somethings from our prime characters 🤷‍♂️

[MdJG Jovenan – Almost like another world]

20 minutes ago, Jovenan said:

Well, her being "dubious" is not really the intent, but rather the conclusion based on her background by the other characters. She is an officer of a foreign military (Edo Divine Fleet) without formal alliance with the Commonwealth, and is only posted to Commonwealth Interstellar Fleet ship because the governments' interest align against a shared enemy. That makes her understandably dubious to some other officers there. I thought the characters would hate her because of her being an "utopian princess" as Gila put it, and because of her not realising the seriousness of the situation and not caring what happens to the other characters. Turns out, they hate her also because some of them think she might be siding with the enemy! And I'm liking it!

 

I honestly just admire the risk you took creating her, you can have chosen just making another warrior character like most of us, but the spin you have given us with "this" Jovenan is awesome.  

 

9 minutes ago, Ensign Sadar said:

Just saying, 'Princess' is still a better moniker for her than 'Visitor', and I personally love to hate her ❤️ Beautiful characterization, @Jovenan!!

 

You would rather Vik used his first choice? ::rubs ribs::

[MdJG Jovenan – Almost like another world]

Sorry, but not sorry to keep flooding the Apreciations these last days.

I have already posted here the amazing mission start by @Yalu. And yesterday I had to post the sim from one of our newest writers @Ensign Sadar.

But this one is from someone who's been with us a little while longer, and has proven time and again her quality as a writer and as a player.

Unlike the majority of the crew in this "different" mission she chose to create a dubious character, and one I had quickly related to, although IC she will certainly only be a step away from a "favorite enemy" the way @Jovenan presented her Shint Universe counterpart deserves a full reading.

 

Quote

((Mess Hall, Deck 3, CIC Desdemona))

 

Why was it so dirty everywhere?

Her normally pristine white uniform was in danger catching dust, dirt, and other filth from every surface she made contact with, making Jovenan hyperaware of not touching anything. It didn’t work very well, as the air itself was musty of aerosolised waste and other nasty itty-bitty particulates. It was horrendous that the Interstellar Fleet was allowing their ships to decline to such a disgusting state. Sure, they were at war, but it wasn’t like they were shooting at something constantly, there was really no reason to not have the crew scrub the entire ship every now and then.

Stennes: We’ve all seen what this thing can do. But after years of mystery and rumors, we finally get to look at it. The intel scientists working at Casperia call this a “prismagon.” It’s the key piece of technology in the Shint reality weapon.

Despite their filthy habits, a posting on a Commonwealth ship had its benefits. Being so much nearer to the Shint they had access to much better empirical data on the reality weaponry. Jovenan leaned in a bit to see the projection better. Having refused to sit down on these plebeian chairs but opting to stand by a corner, her leaned-in posture was awful to her back, but the object of interest was too important for her to mind right now.

The existence of “prismagons” was hardly a surprise; Jovenan’s own research at the Divine Fleet Research Institute had shown that the observed functionality of the reality weapons required them to be there. Still, she had never figured out how they worked exactly, what they looked like and how they were used. And now she had the schematics of a functional object in front of her. This discovery shaved off years from the Institute’s work. How the Commonwealth scientists had acquired the information was a mystery to her. Knowing their reputation, they were probably walking around doing math with their fingers when they accidentally stumbled on a discarded unit on the ground. Jovenan smirked as she straightened herself and continued to follow the presentation.

Stennes: The energy field this thing generates can fragment reality at the quantum level and then collapse it around its target. When directed at a ship, or a planetoid, or—— ::beat:: a person, the prismagon’s energy essentially forces them out of reality, particle by particle.

That was hardly a sufficient explanation. Jovenan considered stepping in and giving the gathered crew a proper lecture on the subject, going through all the equations with them and formulating the theoretical framework. But considering the apparent average intelligence within this hall, she decided to let the senior officer to continue with the poorly detailed presentation.

Stennes: Colonel, we’re going to steal one.

Jovenan rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. They had the schematics of a prismagon, do they stop and try to find a way to disable them? No. Do they even study them further than taking a look? No. They’re gonna break in and get one for themselves as well. How Commonwealth.

MacKenzie: response

Stennes: ::nods:: That’s true. Prismic shields have been a colossal failure at the size and scale we’ve been using them. Commonwealth starships are just too big for the shields to work properly. But, they’re very effective at shielding small craft and—

The human changed display to show two humanoids with armbands.

Stennes: Individuals. ::beat:: Well, at least the testing they’ve done on individuals has been very promising. ::tosses a data chip to Adea:: Colonel Adea, here are all of the schematics and data that Intel has on prismic technology. We need shields that will allow us to get aboard a Shint vessel and remain undetected by their prismic scanners.

Adea: response

Stennes: Luana, Lux, Kuva, and Gila, assist the colonel. We need enough shields for a shuttlepod and a small team.

The Human Major had given the order to a group of young officers. Jovenan didn’t know the crew very well yet, but she had learnt details of the Interstellar Fleet rank hierarchy and could tell that they were junior officers, below the relative rank she was wearing. The Yelikan engineer was an exception, being her senior, but Jovenan didn’t know much else of her. Lt Colonel Adea, on the other hand, was one of the senior-most officers on the ship, and the chief physician with a seemingly decent education. Still, this was hardly a research centre.

Kuva: ::nodding:: Yes, Major.

Yellir/Thevn: response

The Human Major turned to Jovenan, and she noticed that at least a few other crewmembers did the same. She couldn’t blame them, she really stood out in this group. And while she had been advised not to wear the standard Divine Fleet service uniform in order to cater the “offworlder sensibilities”, she could tell that her full-coverage uniform variant was still too sensual for some of them.

Stennes: Jovenan, any assistance you could provide would be most appreciated.

This was actually a prime opportunity for her. The Divine Fleet would never be able to test this kind of technology in the field. If they managed to develop a functioning small-scale shielding mechanism, the Divine Fleet could try to make it full-scale, maybe even planetary scale, and deploy it to protect themselves after the Commonwealth was utterly crushed by the Shint. And if they failed… Well, it cost the Divine Fleet nothing.

Jovenan: ::chirpy:: I will assist.

The research opportunity was actually very exciting for her. Despite her reservations about the crew, she knew that such experimentation wouldn’t have been possible on Rubicun. For a moment, she wondered why most of the crew showed little enthusiasm, as the Major moved to other subjects.

Stennes: Vik, Flint, you need to find us a suitable target. The space between the Celendi and Azure Nebulae is crawling with Shint. To maximize our likelihood of success, we need a ship with at least 3 prismagons aboard. Cruisers or larger. Devise a suitable approach for the shuttlepod, and attack and escape plans for Desdemona.

Olivera: Aye Sir

Kader: response

Stennes: Ares, Savel, Harry, you’ll put our heist together, with the Colonel’s and my assistance. ::tosses Dakora a data chip:: We’ve got updated holo-schematics of Shint craft and weaponry. Work with Vik and Flint and use the Sim Centers on deck six to anticipate contingencies.

Dakora / Savel / Sato / MacKenzie: response

Jovenan paid only a little attention to the planning of the acquisition of the prismagons, focusing more on planning the shielding device and what she could do after the others had secured the components. It was only the final pep talk by the Major when she focused on him again.

Stennes: You’ve all seen the projections. Even the most optimistic forecasts show that the war will be lost within a year. This may be a suicide mission. But it also might be our first, last, only opportunity to defend ourselves against the Shint. Maybe even mount an offensive of our own someday. ::long beat, sighs wearily:: What questions do you have?

Jovenan wasn’t sure what he meant by suicide mission. Did it mean that if they failed, they were committing a career suicide? Or was it more of a poetic expression for the current state of the war? She considered asking about it, but other questions began to seep in.

Kuva: Either it is suicide by action or it is suicide by inaction. ::beat:: How long until the Shint realize what we have acquired and its implications, Major?

Stennes/Any: Response

((OOC: Moving on with the Q&A as well, open for backsimming etc.))

As the briefing had ended, the group had dispersed to smaller sections according to the task they were given. The shield development team had been quick to vanish, but Jovenan managed to find them after losing them for a moment. She jogged to them, catching a part of the conversation that had already begun.

Kuva: Our enemy may have far superior technology to our own, but it is still technology. I do know the United Resistance has used electromagnetic pulses for both offensive maneuvers and defensive retreats, though I’ll admit it is to…varying degrees of success. Regardless, it may be worth considering as an option for this mission.

Lux: Electromagnetic pulses have only proven effective in gorilla warfare tactics, on planets and moons. It’s not as effective when presented in space battles. Mainly because Shint appear more capable to detect our vessels with the prismic scanners :: begins to think in quantum mechanics :: Prismic scanners use a quantum variance catalyst, using gravitational waves to detect matter in the fourth dimension. It is thought that this is what allows them to identify specific targets in space/time to ::beat:: eliminate from reality. ::ponders to the group:: Could we match that variance on a quantum level? 

Pushing herself to the group, Jovenan joined to listen to the conversation.

Adea/Yellir/Thevn: Response

Kuva: I could reach out to my contacts in the Vanguard as well, see if they have any information on prismic technology that could supplement the Confederacy’s. Once my Romulan brethren realized their cloaking devices were practically useless against Shint sensors, they pivoted hard to developing stealth tech for a moment such as this.

Lux: Good thinking Kuva, they’ve likely come to the same conclusions that we have. I’m going to head to the lab, I’d like to run some simulations on the prismic shields and we can have a look at the work from the Casperia :: reluctantly looks to Jovenan:: Would you like to make yourself useful?

Jovenan was pleased her input was not only expected, it was requested.

Jovenan: Thank you, I would! Well, firstly I would recommend stopping using the electro-magnetic pulses altogether. Any cadet can shield equipment from EMPs, for the Shint it’s just a matter of bothering to do so. If they’re used consistently, the Shint will adapt for them. ::smiles:: It only makes it harder to fight them in the long run.

Adea/Yellir/Lux/Thevn/Kuva: Response

She briefly raised herself onto tip-toes before lowering the feet to the ground again, making a small hop, as she hid her left hand behind her back and extended the right one for a “handshake”, a Human greeting.

Jovenan: ::cheerily, smiling:: Also, I don’t think I’ve been working with some of you before. Hi, I’m Jovenan! Nice to meet you all!

Adea/Yellir/Lux/Thevn/Kuva: Response

TAG/TBC
----
Mediator JG Jovenan
Science officer (secondment)
CIC Desdemona
E239911J11

 

[SB118 Ops: Quotations of the Week!]

3 hours ago, Sal Taybrim said:

*coughcough* I like that body...

Thanks for the laugh @Vitor S. Silveira!

Sal need's to workout more

[[JP] 2nd Lt. Gila Thevn & Vailani Zoyara - And an End.]

I was eagerly waiting for this one to came out. Magnificent work @Ensign Sadar. With a little help from @LuxaLorana

 

Quote

((Propaganda Chief Karrs’ Home, Jalanda City, Shint-occupied Bajor))

(((OOC: A nightmare with a vaguely described decapitation by kitchen cleaver… Reader caution is adviced.)))

 

 

A bit of extra work never killed anyone, right?

 

 

Propaganda Chief Karrs from Jalanda City found out the hard way that this didn’t apply to slavekillers, as the replacement for the latest expired Mizarians suddenly stood behind him at his work desk, a sharp instrument to his throat. There were no dramatic final words allowed him. One moment, he was alive and looking at the proclamation he had worked on for the governor, denoting the successful deletion of Bajoran insurgents.

 

 

The next, he was dead.

 

 

Gila’d always thought death was easy, quick, but separating a monster’s head from their torso was hard work, even as stunned with surprise as he was. The feeling of the kitchen cleaver in her determined hand was... Slow, clumsy. Or was that just because it was her first? Mustard colored blood soaked into the surroundings, seeping into and coloring everything in sight. The chair, the desk, her uniform and the carpet became the canvas for the grotesque painting denoting the monster’s last gasp, and as spatters got into her eyes, she worked on with aching arms, enforcing the effort needed to finish the job..

 

 

Eventually, its struggles ceased. She did not. Not for a long time. And when finally her arms couldn’t move anymore, when finally the sounds of flesh gave way as the foul visage rolled onto the floor with a dull thump, she fell to her knees, salted tears mixing with mustard on her face. She looked at the carpet beneath her, discolored as it was, and imagined the tormentor’s lifeblood mixing with that of Eyla and Kolya’s, imagined their beaten and broken bodies just feet from where she was now seated, her chest heaving for a breath she wasn’t sure would come to her.

 

 

She’d join them soon. She hoped beyond all hope that getting to a heart would be easier than a decapitation.

 

 

Thevn: Forgive me, Celom...

 

 

She pulled. And her arm would not move. For the briefest of moments, she thought she was still out of breath, still exhausted from… What had just transpired.

 

 

Until she heard a familiar voice yelling at her.

 

 

Vailani: Gil!

 

 

Thevn: Z-Zoy?

 

 

She was pulled violently to her feet, her wide dark eyes staring at the blonde Bajoran in front of her. Her friend.

 

 

Thevn: Wh-What are you-

 

 

Vailani: ::looks to the corpse:: I... You really did it :: battle weary :: He deserved it. ::beat:: I couldn't let you do this alone. ::takes Gila’s hands in her own:: I told you before, when we were little, it’s you and me. I’ve got your back, no matter what happens.

 

 

A memory of a burnt orange sky and a young, spunky Bajoran girl, bruises and dirt peppered on her face as she pulled a teenage Gila, stumbling from her own bruises, to her feet.

 

 

Thevn: You and me… ::snaps out of it, suddenly afraid:: You can’t be here. The Peacekeepers will-

 

 

Vailani: ::defiant:: They can try. We need to move. Now. 

 

 

Their escape warped around her, all colors and noises and shapes until one specific, thunderous cacophony made everything come into focus again. The sound like a thousand mechanical legs moving in disjointed tandem, a noise only fit for the nightmares of the truly deranged. Peacekeeper Bulletcars. And they were coming closer.

 

 

Vailani: They must be tracking us, somehow. ::looks to the team:: We're going to have to fight. ::To Gila:: Here, take this. 

 

 

Gila accepted the weapon that was pushed into her hand, which she had no idea how to use. She hoped didn’t have to.

 

 

Fighting broke out less than two blocks from the city limits, bulletcars blocking all but one escape route. Gila was pushed ahead, the ‘non-combatant’ that would drag them down, and the resistance fighters followed her until all but one had reached the hatch leading into the sewers below Jalanda City.

 

 

All but Zoy.

 

 

Thevn: Zoy, hur-

 

 

It was like slow-motion, a harrowing image that had all but burned itself onto Gila’s retinas over the course of the many thousands of times she’d seen it replayed. Zoyara’s determined and battleworn face turned towards her, her legs caught in the middle of a powerful stride that would carry her towards the hatch, to her.

 

 

Then, a blast of white pounded into her slim back, knocking her airborne.

 

 

Gila watched as Zoyara’s face turned surprised, then still, as the light of life left her eyes, and she fell further. Almost within reach. And then, collided with the ground, body violently twisting in an unnatural position from the kinetic force ricocheting back against her from the rocky pavement she impacted with. Gila screamed, thrashed, wanted to go grab her, but insistent hands dragged her down the sewer hatch, into the cold and lonely darkness, and away from the brutal, relentless light...

 

 

A bit of extra work never killed anyone...

 

 

((Bunk Room 04 - Deck 4, CIC Desdemona))

 

 

Gila shot up, felt the cold sweat pool at the nape of her neck under her lilac hood. She brushed the coarse fabric from her bald scalp, her fingers anxiously swiping at the salted liquid sticking to her skin as her elongated skull shivered with latent anxiety. Her chest rose and deflated at an alarmingly high rate, until she managed to shake the final throes of sleep off of her mind and willed herself to calm. Eventually, her heart rate settled, her breath no longer clawed on her windpipe like a monster wanting to claw its way out, and her skull stopped twitching. She pulled the hood back over her head, swung her legs out and rose to her full height with a rolling of her shoulders.

 

 

Another night, another terror… And a new day full of terrors. What a life.

 

 

((Mess Hall, Deck 3, CIC Desdemona))

 

 

Gila was seated in one of the haphazard seats in the Mess Hall next to Vik and facing Major Stennes. He was supposed to have brought Major Yannick - the crazy Trill - back with him, but as with so many things, plans hadn’t worked out. And now, more plans were being put out there for the Shint to break apart.

 

 

Stennes: We’ve all seen what this thing can do. But after years of mystery and rumors, we finally get to look at it. The intel scientists working at Casperia call this a “prismagon.” It’s the key piece of technology in the Shint reality weapon.

 

 

An animation of a Shint warship was initiated, directional arrows highlighting connections to the weapons systems on its exterior hull. Prismagons, huh… Gila didn’t know much about the Shint reality weapons. She knew that slave labor was still needed for maintenance and such aboard the warships, but as far as she knew, no slaves were ever allowed anywhere near the big boys. Too sensitive for uneducated labor.

 

 

Stennes: The energy field this thing generates can fragment reality at the quantum level and then collapse it around its target. When directed at a ship, or a planetoid, or—— ::beat:: a person, the prismagon’s energy essentially forces them out of reality, particle by particle.

 

 

The Major turned to Colonel MacKenzie, his expression grim.

 

 

Stennes: Colonel, we’re going to steal one.

 

 

A brief beat of silence accompanied that ludicrous suggestion, and Gila shuffled slightly in her seat as she caught the worried glance Vik was sending her out the corner of her eye. She shared his concerns, but just tapped his knee under the table with a slightly cheshire grin. Just another suicide mission to add to their list.

 

 

The look on the oppressors’ faces when their precious toys were in Commonwealth hands though? It was almost so tantalizing a fantasy it made her regret her escape, just because she wouldn’t be there to see it.

 

 

MacKenzie: ::flatly, shaking her head:: There’s no way we’ll last long enough to even get close to one and stay undetected.

 

 

Stennes: ::nods:: That’s true. Prismic shields have been a colossal failure at the size and scale we’ve been using them. Commonwealth starships are just too big for the shields to work properly. But, they’re very effective at shielding small craft and—

 

 

Major Stennes changed the display to a schematic of two humanoids, each wearing an armband with a hockey puck-sized control.

 

 

Stennes: Individuals. ::beat:: Well, at least the testing they’ve done on individuals has been very promising. ::tosses a data chip to Adea:: Colonel Adea, here are all of the schematics and data that Intel has on prismic technology. We need shields that will allow us to get aboard a Shint vessel and remain undetected by their prismic scanners.

 

 

Adea: Sure thing.

 

 

Stennes: Luana, Lux, Kuva, and Gila, assist the colonel. We need enough shields for a shuttlepod and a small team.

 

 

Gila cocked her head slightly to the side, mirroring the ghost of a nod that Vik sent her way. While she knew the haphazard crew of the Desdemona to varying degrees, the Betazoid Colonel was perhaps one of the ones she was most familiar with. Besides Vik, of course… And she’d patched up all the Caitians more times than she could count, so Lux was a known quantity too. All in all, not too bad of a team.

 

 

Kuva: ::nodding:: Yes, Major.

 

 

Yellir: response

 

 

A ball knit together in her midriff as she saw the Major’s eyes drift to the Edo Princess, and she feared what was about to come out of his mouth.

 

 

Stennes: Jovenan, any assistance you could provide would be most appreciated.

 

 

Jovenan: ::chirpy:: I will assist.

 

 

Gila turned her head just enough to glance at Vik, knowing what her old friend was prone to be thinking about, and the briefly enticed look in his eyes made an almost magnetic force curl her knuckle, emphasizing the bony joint. Before he had the chance to get the better of himself, the knuckle had already jabbed itself into the sensitive space between his eighth and ninth ribs on his left side. All things considered, she was comparatively gentle this time, and she caught Vik’s eyes as the pressure made him turn towards her. She raised a hairless brow at him, in a rather admonishing way, before turning back to the briefing at hand.

 

 

Dumbass.

 

 

Stennes: Vik, Flint, you need to find us a suitable target. The space between the Celendi and Azure Nebulae is crawling with Shint. To maximize our likelihood of success, we need a ship with at least 3 Prismagons aboard. Cruisers or larger. Devise a suitable approach for the shuttlepod, and attack and escape plans for Desdemona.

 

 

Olivera: Aye Sir.

 

 

Kader: Yes major.

 

 

Stennes: Ares, Savel, Harry, you’ll put our heist together, with the Colonel’s and my assistance. ::tosses Dakora a data chip:: We’ve got updated holo-schematics of Shint craft and weaponry. Work with Vik and Flint and use the Sim Centers on deck six to anticipate contingencies.

 

 

Savel: Roger.

 

 

Dakora / Sato: response

 

 

MacKenzie: What could go wrong?

 

 

The Major took a step back and looked at all of them, all these wayward misfits of various cultures and backgrounds, who’d just so happened to get tossed together for the biggest heist of the past century. His face belied the fundamental truth most at the table were fairly certain of: They were doomed.

 

 

Stennes: You’ve all seen the projections. Even the most optimistic forecasts show that the war will be lost within a year. This may be a suicide mission. But it also might be our first, last, only opportunity to defend ourselves against the Shint. Maybe even mount an offensive of our own someday. ::long beat, sighs wearily:: What questions do you have?

 

 

Gila was tempted to ask whether the Major’d lost his marbles, but truthfully, this was as insane a mission as the past four they’d gone on. The last four had also been introduced with the caveat ‘this may be a suicide mission’, so, par for the course, really… So long as they went out taking out a whole lot of Shint, Gila was satisfied with her lot.

 

 

And the opportunity to snatch out one of the Prismagons? Too delicious to pass up.

 

 

Kuva: Either it is suicide by action or it is suicide by inaction. ::beat:: How long until the Shint realize what we have acquired and its implications, Major?

 

 

Savel: He's right. We steal this and we become their biggest threat. And their biggest target. How quickly can we turn this technology around so we can use it against them? That's our only chance at staying alive after this.

 

 

Stennes/Any: Response

 

 

((OOC: Moving on with the Q&A. Gila wouldn’t have a lot to ask, really xD))

 

 

As the briefing had ended, the crew disassembled and reknit into smaller groups, Gila gravitating towards Colonel Adea’s side as she looked at the rest of the team.

 

 

Kuva: Our enemy may have far superior technology to our own, but it is still technology. I do know the United Resistance has used electromagnetic pulses for both offensive maneuvers and defensive retreats, though I’ll admit it is to…varying degrees of success. Regardless, it may be worth considering as an option for this mission.

 

 

Lux: Electromagnetic pulses have only proven effective in guerilla warfare tactics, on planets and moons. It’s not as effective when presented in space battles. Mainly because Shint appear more capable to detect our vessels with the prismic scanners :: begins to think in quantum mechanics :: Prismic scanners use a quantum variance catalyst, using gravitational waves to detect matter in the fourth dimension. It is thought that this is what allows them to identify specific targets in space/time to ::beat:: eliminate from reality. ::ponders to the group:: Could we match that variance on a quantum level?

 

 

‘It is thought’... Gila almost wanted to sneer.

 

 

Adea: We can but try.

 

 

Yellir: Response

 

 

Kuva: I could reach out to my contacts in the Vanguard as well, see if they have any information on prismic technology that could supplement the Confederacy’s. Once my Romulan brethren realized their cloaking devices were practically useless against Shint sensors, they pivoted hard to developing stealth tech for a moment such as this.

 

 

Lux: Good thinking Kuva, they’ve likely come to the same conclusions that we have. I’m going to head to the lab, I’d like to run some simulations on the prismic shields and we can have a look at the work from the Casperia :: reluctantly looks to Jovenan:: Would you like to make yourself useful?

 

 

Jovenan: Thank you, I would! Well, firstly I would recommend stopping using the electro-magnetic pulses altogether. Any cadet can shield equipment from EMPs, for the Shint it’s just a matter of bothering to do so. If they’re used consistently, the Shint will adapt for them. ::smiles:: It only makes it harder to fight them in the long run.

 

 

Adea: Which is far from ideal.

 

 

Gila looked down on her painted nails, ignoring whatever was about to pass. She didn’t disagree with the Edo Princess, but she was more inclined to just let her burn bridges with the crew on her own than participate in the show.

 

 

Yellir/Lux/Kuva: Response

 

 

A hand was extended towards the group, an annoying slight ‘bop’ of a jump accompanying it.

 

 

Jovenan: ::cheerily, smiling:: Also, I don’t think I’ve been working with some of you before. Hi, I’m Jovenan! Nice to meet you all!

 

 

Thevn: ::dryly:: Pleasure, I’m sure.

 

 

Adea: Moooooving swiftly onwards, let’s get started on these shields.

 

 

oO Trying to keep the peace, Colonel? Good luck Oo

 

 

Jovenan/Yellir/Lux/Kuva: Response

 

 

Adea: Have any of you actually been on a Shint vessel?

 

 

Gila almost felt insulted. But not quite there yet.

 

 

Thevn: ::deadpan:: Once or twice. ::more serious:: But never on a warcruiser. For some reason, they’re more picky with the slavelabour on those. ::mirthless smirk::

 

 

Jovenan/Yellir/Lux/Kuva: Response

 

 

Thevn: I know the calibrations of grunt Shint weaponry, so perhaps we’d be able to make some contingencies in the shields that would disrupt the more rudimentary weapons, but reality weapons? ::clicks her tongue:: Ain’t nothing we can do about the shields to prevent that. So, best if we go under the radar of those.

 

 

Adea/Jovenan/Yellir/Lux/Kuva: Response

 

 

 

Tag / TBC

 

 

 

 

Simmed by

 

 

2nd Lieutenant Gila Thevn

Physician

CIC Desdemona

A240006GS1

 

 

&

 

 

2nd Lieutenant Lux

Special Ops & Quantum mechanics specialist

CIC Desdemona

A240004LL2

 

 

[Artemis-cellaneous: Memorable whatevers from The Borderlands]

As you all will agree, we started this new mission of ours with quite a push. And honestly I would likely post everyone's introduction of their characters in Appreciations, but at the fear of over flooding it I have to put in the first lines from @Kuva and @LuxaLorana that really sold me.

 

Quote

Although Kuva’s expertise lay more in offensive capabilities, he bridled in place, arms crossed defiantly over his chest as he considered the implications of a stealth and infiltration mission. His eyes, both real and artificial, slid over to meet Colonel Adea’s; of all the Desdemona’s crew, Kuva was most well acquainted with Genkos. The colonel had saved his life after all; plasma scarring welled up along the right side of his face, a reminder of what would have been his fate without Adea’s - and the Confederacy’s - intervention.

  

Quote

Lux tried to return her focus on Didrik as darker thoughts forced their way in. Screams in the night. In a jungle on Cait. 

Lorana. 

It was a name she heard in her nightmares. Four cubs and their mother hidden in the undergrowth. Lux’s face pressed hard into the soil, struggling to breath. Fighting the urge to cry out as she dug her paws into the earth, her brother on one side and her sisters clutching each other on the other. Mother’s body pressing down on them, hissing for them to remain silent and still. 

They did, each of those small cubs, did not move or make a noise beyond the whispers of their breathing. Except for their eyes and their tails. It was the only contact they allowed themselves. Tails interlinked with each other for days, the coiling together becoming tighter and tighter as they listened to the cries and pleading of the elder cubs and their father, and eventually their death throes.

The great leader S’nar and his children made an example for the entire galaxy. Resist and die. It was a performance.

The Shint didn’t find them, perhaps it was luck or they wanted to keep them alive, so they could hear the cries for the rest of their lives.

 

[Maj. Yogan Yannick — Hot Yogan]

We all know that a good mission start is important. Our next mission in the Artemis will take us to another universe, with other characters based on our prime ones.

By the looks of it we are starting with a bang, @Yalu with his huge talent has given us a new world to explore. Let this not be the last battle of the Desdemona.

 

Quote

(( Crew compartment, CSC Overdone ))

The Measure-class of Commonwealth Small Craft was designed to comfortably accommodate two crew and two passengers. However, a series of increasingly desperate “upgrades” over the years had sacrificed most of CSC Overdone’s living space to make room for additional weapons and, more recently, the worryingly temperamental “prismic shield” generators. In her present state, two average-sized crew would find Overdone uncomfortably cramped.

Neither Yogan Yannick nor his colleague and friend Didrik Stennes were average-sized. On the long trip back from Casperia Prime—or rather, the orbital cemetery which Casperia Prime had become—both Yannick and Stennes had suffered their share of bruised knees, bumped heads, cricked necks, and sore backs. Still, the voyage had been relatively uneventful, and Yogan would take bumps and bruises over a Shint ambush any day. With only 24 hours left of the trip before their rendezvous with Desdemona, the two friends could get by on dreams of full-size bunks and proper replicated food.

Through the narrow, shoulder-scraping door at the forward end of the crew compartment lay the flight deck, where a panoply of consoles buzzed and beeped a reassuring, rhythmic staccato. The noise was jarring to the uninitiated, but to anyone who’d spent enough time aboard a Commonwealth ship, it just blended into the background. All systems showed operating condition green; it was when the buzzes and beeps stopped that they should be worried.

Overdone had sophisticated enough sensors to detect the presence of Shint warships, but the craft’s prismic shields were still experimental technology, liable to fail at least as often as they were to succeed. If they were lucky, the sensors would alert them and the shields would give them enough time to escape. If they weren’t lucky, no amount of advance warning from the sensors would help. The Shint reality-warping weapon would finish them one way or another.

Yogan tried not to lose himself to existential dread. With more than 60 lifetimes of memories now swirling around in his head, it was hard to stop the cascade reaction when any of them got riled up. Instead, he distracted himself by Stennes’ comical attempt to extricate himself from the half-chair, half-bed crammed into the corner of the crew compartment.

Stennes: I’m heading aft to prepare dinner. ::beat:: Unless you want me to hang around for a while longer and keep you company.

Yogan gave a wan smile. Didrik’s intentions were noble, but the last thing Yogan needed was more companionship. The one thing he wanted—to be alone with his own thoughts and no one else’s—was the one thing he could never have again. His forced Joining at the hands of Shint kidnappers had permanently deprived him of solitude. Didrik’s offer to “keep him company” was really a thinly veiled offer to keep an eye on Yogan, in case he started to lose his mind again.

Yannick: No, that’s okay, Didrik. Go for it.

The Human hesitated and looked at Yogan with narrowed eyes.

Stennes: I’m happy to wait a bit. There’s no rush. ::half-exhales, half-laughs:: Reconstituted potatoes are at the top of nobody’s to-eat list.

Didrik’s tone was measured and affable, but through his every word was woven a thread of barely concealed worry. His quaint Norwegian accent emphasized his concern, especially when he tried to play it off with humor. In the darkest of times, when a new planet fell every day, Didrik’s stories about growing up in the idyllic-sounding corner of Earth helped keep everyone sane. And alive.

Yogan wondered if there was even a Norway left anymore. It had been so long since anyone had heard news from that part of the Commonwealth.

Yannick: Really, I’ll be fine for ten minutes while you boil a bag of atoms.

Stennes: Okay. Just call if you need me.

Yogan nodded and bit the inside of his cheeks as Didrik squeezed his shoulders through the hatch and disappeared into the galley. Despite himself, he smiled at the sight.

Yannick: oO Misery loves company. Oo

The one thing Yogan had in abundance was company. He’d lain awake the night before trying to count the sets of distinct identities his symbiont carried. Jarve, Yajad, Somar, Ozera, Reezia… He’d stopped at 43. If Yogan were lucky, he’d have the rest of a long life to take attendance of the voices in his head.

But the Commonwealth wasn’t exactly on a lucky streak these days. And neither was Yogan.

Stennes had led the mission to rescue Yogan from the Shint, but they didn’t get to him until after the symbiont had already been placed in his gut. Once Joined, nothing further could be done. Removing Yannick would kill Yogan, so the only thing he could do was adjust. After three weeks of “recovery” leave, Commonwealth Medical had given Yogan a clean bill of health and a fitness for duty certificate, which everyone seemed to respect but no one truly believed. When the entire Commonwealth is on the verge of collapse, a long and difficult rehabilitation program would be a waste of resources.

Voice of Kallah Yannick: oO You’re a waste of resources, Yogan. Oo

The prior Yannicks had a way of saying the absolute worst thing at the worst time. Futilely, Yogan stuck his fingers in his ears to quiet the rising cacophony.

Yannick: Stop it.

Voice of Yarjel Yannick: oO They really shouldn’t have bothered coming for you. Oo

Yannick: Yes they should have. I had vital information about the war effort.

Voice of Darzoss Yannick: oO If you can even find the information inside that mess of memories you call a mind. Oo

Yannick: Quit talking to them, Yogan. They’re not really here.

Voice of Hazka Yannick: oO We’re always here. And we’re going nowhere. Oo

The voices of dozens more Yannicks joined in, distracting Yogan from the fact that the beeps and buzzes from the flight deck had gone silent, and a Shint corvette had closed on their position.

(( Galley, CSC Overdone ))

Didrik had just taken two servings of reconstituted potato out of the dispenser slot when the deck plating shuddered underfoot.

Stennes: Computer, what just happened?

Computer: =/\= A Shint corvette, bearing 035 mark 002, has locked on a tractor beam. Recommend activating tactical systems. =/\=

Stennes: Dammit, Yogan.

Didrik dropped the steaming hot wrappages of potato, and they landed on the deck with a dull splat, oozing starch in all directions. He slammed the hatch control with the heel of his hand, then forced himself through it when it only opened part way.

(( Crew compartment, CSC Overdone ))

Didrik had never seen the effects of the Shint reality manipulating weapons up close before. He’d watched on a viewscreen as it slowly, agonizingly consumed ships, orbital platforms, even a small moon once, but this was the first time he saw a living person ensnared in it.

Didrik looked at the forward half of the craft as if through a thin film of soap. Everything on the other side of the weapon horizon was distorted—shapes squashed, colors muted, noises tinny—like trying to play a corrupted holonovel.

Stennes: Frak. Computer, reinitialize the prismic shields!

Computer: Prismic shields can only be controlled from the flight deck.

Crossing the weapon barrier to the flight deck was not an option, and as the Shint tractor beam drew Overdone closer, the reality field consumed ever more of it. Behind the barrier, still lying awkwardly in his makeshift bunk, Yogan appeared unaware that he was being manipulated out of existence. Officers who’d lived through a Shint reality attack often said the confusion was so debilitating that they didn’t realize what was happening to them until it was almost too late. At least he wouldn’t feel any pain.

Stennes: I’m sorry, Yogan. I can’t save you this time.

With few alternatives, Didrik passed back into the galley and closed the hatch behind him. Treading back and forth through the spilled potato, he downloaded as many of the ship’s computer files and logs as he could. When the weapon horizon pushed past the bulkhead into the galley, he yanked a few dozen data chips out of the wall and crammed them into a knapsack.

The ladder down to the escape pods had come partially off its rails, knocking Didrik off balance. He landed hard and scrambled to his feet. With any luck, he’d get far enough away from Overdone before the Shint completely destroyed it.

(( Escape pod Overdone/01 ))

If Overdone was cramped, its escape pods were cruel and unusual punishment. Didrik’s knee bumped his ear as he strapped himself into the seat, and then collided with his eye socket when the pod rocketed out of its dock and into space. He fired up the thrusters and pointed them away from Overdone, then took a moment to rub his throbbing eye.

Stennes: That’s bruising.

A minute or two later, the pod’s computers registered an implosion nearby. Didrik managed to catch the last blip of Overdone as it vanished from the sensor scans. He activated an ultra low-band frequency—a trick someone from the Unified Resistance had taught him—and started broadcasting.

Stennes: =/\= This is Major Didrik Stennes to any Commonwealth or allied ship within range. My Fleet ident and my coordinates are attached to this message. I was traveling from Casperia to rendezvous with CIC Desdemona when my craft was attacked by a Shint corvette armed with a reality weapon. I escaped in a lifeboat. My craft was destroyed and my crewmate… ::beat:: my crewmate was killed. Requesting any assistance. =/\=

Before he attempted to get comfortable (heh) and wait for rescue, he checked his knapsack. Inside were a few dozen data chips. All of them contained useful information, but one of them held a secret that could possibly tip the scales of war in the Commonwealth’s favor. He held the knapsack close and, with nothing else to do, allowed himself to hope.

TBC

(( OOC: I will follow up with a mission opener and tags for everyone in a few hours. It's fine if shore leave scenes overlap with mission scenes for the next few days as you bring the former to their natural conclusions. Just remember to use [Backsim] in your sim titles for any leftover shore leave stuff. ))

Major Yogan Yannick (deceased)
Executive Officer
CIC Desdemona RNS-601
D238804DS0

 

[SB118 Ops: Quotations of the Week!]

9 hours ago, Nestira Aristren said:

Oh @Vitor S. Silveira. Such a sweetheart. 

 

 

 

Well, Arys doesn't think he can take care of Garev... 😒

 

Quote

Trovek: Just... while I am gone, be careful. Don't do anything stupid. Don't do anything risky. Don't... damage Garev, he'll never let me hear the end of it, and I am not explaining Fleet Captain Oddas how we broke the medical officer we borrowed from her.

 

[Artemis-cellaneous: Memorable whatevers from The Borderlands]

Quote

Adea: What the absolute ::REDACTED:: is that?

HMMT: ::stamping a fuzzy foot:: Is there a medicaw emergency or not?

Jones: Uh. No. Computer, deactivate EMT.

HMMT: That's just wude.

The diminutive medical puppet dematerialized, leaving the Human and Betazoid standing there.

Jones: Mostly surprise-free.

Adea: Kill it with fire.

 

@Hiro Jones and @Genkos Adea this one just...

 

 

[Day Four: Duty Post Awards]

 

Congratulations.

Also, a thank you to all my ship comrades, past and present for putting up with Sil all these years. 

My award wouldn't be possible without you.

[Day Three: Staff Awards]

 

Congratulations, but also a heartfelt thank you to all members of the staff. Not only do you carry on writing your wonderful characters, but you put up the extra workload that is necessary to keep the fleet running. Thank you all.

[Day Two: Special and Length of Service Awards]

 

Again congratulations to all, winners, nominees, not nominated, for making this such a wonderful community 

[Day One: General Awards]

 

Congratulations to all the winners, nominees, staff and every member of the fleet.

[PNPC Lt. Trovek Arys - The Moment We Became Strangers]

I have been, and always will be, a Lurys fan.

Dammit @Nestira Aristren  again you wrote a very powerful and relatable sim that really shook me.

 

Quote

((Private Room, Main Medical Facility, Starbase 118))

Lukin had made the effort to visit Arys in her room in sickbay, but their reunion was filled with a mix of joy and unspoken tension. While Arys cherished his presence, she couldn't shake the knowledge that there were unresolved issues lingering between them. And now he wanted her to come home, but she knew that she needed more time.

Wyn, understanding and supportive as always, had agreed to let her stay with him for a few days following the surgery. It wasn't just for medical reasons, although those were important considering the complexity of the procedure. Arys also needed a break from the overwhelming emotions that came with her current family situation. She struggled with her role as mother, and she struggled even more with sharing Lukin with Geleth.
She had done so for a while, but for the longest time Arys had regarded it as an amusing quirk of her personality. After all, who could blame her for wanting to be the sole object of Lukin's affection? But then she had realized that she was jealous of a child who had lost mother and father, and suddenly it wasn't funny any more. Who in their right mind denied a child the loving supportive presence they clung to?

But Arys was't in her right mind. The presence of the alternate version of herself in the room, a fascinating hallucination in and of itself, served as a constant reminder the impending medical procedure. She tried to explain, but the words failed her, leaving her frustrated and unable to fully articulate her feelings.

Trovek: I would have needed you. Lukin, my brother died, only a few months ago. Tito confessed that he killed him and... and that was a big deal for me. And you weren't there because you were out with Geleth. ::she bit her lip, raising a hand to keep him from talking:: I love her, but I am insanely jealous. And right now, I can't guarantee I won't make her feel that, so I can't come home. 

Zorkal: You can’t?  Or you won’t? 

Trovek: I ... I am just... overwhelmed and...

Her voice trembled as she tried to expressed her fears and insecurities, hoping for a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. Her grip tightened around his hand, seeking reassurance, only to find it unresponsive, lifeless, devoid of the warmth and connection she so desperately needed. But with every passing word, their emotional distance seemed to widen, until finally, Lukin withdrew his hand, severing the physical connection between them.

Zorkal: It seems you’ve made your decision. 

Trovek: No... Lukin, I-... please don't force me to make a decision, not now...

Not now, when the shadows in the corner of the room still put her on edge, and loud noise and sudden movements triggered flashbacks of the attack. Not now, when she knew Foster was locked in the practise lab to go through the procedure another hundred times before he would operate on Arys. Not now, when she was utterly terrified and couldn't trust her eyes and ears, let alone her thoughts and emotions.

Zorkal: I can not force you to do anything, Arys.  You know that better than anyone.  You made your decisions.  Not me.  I paved the way to make it easier for you, but you were the one who stepped through the door.  My only expectation was for you to decide what you wanted to do.  Whether it was to go through or simply close it, I would have supported you either way.  It is not and was not my responsibility.  I did not force you into anything.  You *did* make the choice.  From what I see, you feel like you made the wrong choice and are trying to put the blame on me.  Well my dear, for once, I am not the one to blame here.  And since you are running away when things get difficult, I see no reason to remain myself.  I wish you a full and quick recovery. 

As Lukin turned away, the other version of herself screamed desperately, pleading for Arys to stop him from walking away. The internal chaos grew louder, the cacophony of conflicting voices warring within her mind, tearing at her sanity.

But Arys remained immobilized, her lips sealed, her voice trapped within her.

It wasn't until the door swung shut that Arys finally regained the ability to speak, even if it was nothing more than a whisper.

Trovek: I'm scared.

But it was too late. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as the realization of what had happened, how utterly wrong this had gone, settled upon her chest like a crushing weight. The world seemed to crumble around her, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around her chest, as if trying to prevent herself from falling apart.

End Scene

PNPC Lt. Trovek Arys
Chief Medical Officer
Starbase 118 Ops
J239809TA4

“Paths are made by walking”
-- Franz Kafka

 

[PNPC Lt. Trovek Arys - No Escape]

Usually when I am busy I just read rather quickly my comrades sims, if my characters aren't in the action. This last week was such an example and as I read in a few minutes the lines of the many stories they write only one got my full attention and was worth reading it with time.  A luxury I lacked this week.

 

Quote

((ISS Koh'la'Shamuu))

Arys had always prided herself on her ability to handle stressful situations. As Doctor, Counsellor and Starfleet Officer, she had encountered her fair share of challenges over the years. But nothing could have prepared her for the terror she felt when she found herself taken hostage by a the man whose arm she had fixed only moments prior.

She knew that her colleagues - DeVeau, Sheila, Yael - had encountered a similar situation, and she had always thought that she would be just as composed and heroic as she knew they had been. That she would use her skills and dry wit to deescalate the situation. But instead, the only thing she could think of was how scared she was, and that she needed someone to come and help her. Anyone.

Trovek: ::quietly:: This way…

Her body trembled as the man shoved her towards the direction he had indicated. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and her legs felt like they might give out at any moment. What, right now, kept her functioning was the hope that she could lead the man towards the tactical area rather than the cockpit, and that the men present there would take care of the matter.

Only a few more steps...

Covering her mouth again, the man took very slow, careful steps forward, entering the tactical area. Arys' heart sank as she realized that only a young man was present, not much older than perhaps twenty years. He had tried to introduce himself to her earlier, but she hadn't listened.

Boucher: Step away from the console with your hands up.

Thomas: ::turning:: What's that? I --

His mouth stopped moving mid-sentence when he saw the scene, and tensed. But much like Arys imagined Sherlock in a situation like this, the young man stood slowly, turning to face them directly.

Thomas: I don't know who you are, but why don't you let Dr. Trovek go, and we can figure this out?

Boucher: There's nothing to work out. Who I am doesn't matter to you, and the more you talk, the more danger she's in. Get against the wall.

The young man nodded and complied ... or so Arys thought. When he was half a meter from the wall, he launched himself toward her captor, clipping the elbow of the arm that held the scalpel. It skittered away across the floor. Before Arys could react, the stranger shoved her away from him, knocking the air out of her lungs as she was flung against the workstation and ended up on the floor.

Something hurt, but she couldn't localize the pain. Her mind didn't register it as something that mattered.

Arys: That's the adrenaline. You have to get up now. Get up!

There it was again, that voice. The voice that indicated that something was wrong with her. Still, Arys obeyed, pushing herself up, trying to find her footing. She was dizzy. Maybe she had hit her head. It didn't matter. Only getting away from here mattered.

One step. Then another. Towards the door.

Arys: Hurry!

Suddenly, something wrapped itself around her legs, once more bringing her tumbling down to the floor. Arys landed painfully on an already injured arm, and barely managed to scream before her attacker climbed up her body, placed a knee in the middle of her back, pinning her down while he reached for the scalpel and once more pressed it against her throat.

It was only now that she realized the young man was lying motionless, his face bruised and ruined, with his lips slowly turning blue.

And that changed everything.

She had seen people die before. She had patients who didn't make it, and only a year ago she had sat by her grandfather's bedside when he passed away. But this was different. This was senseless, cruel, unfair.

Arys had never before felt so helpless. And didn't even remember his name.

He had tried to help her. She had led the attacker here, and instead of complying with the man's instruction, he had tried to rescue her.

And she didn't even remember his name.

Tears began running down her cheeks as she tried in vain to extend a hand towards the other officer, only for her captor to tighten his grip around her.

Trovek: I have to-...

Boucher: Him? Yes, I expect he's dead now. Or at least he will be as soon as the air in his lungs runs out.

She let out a whimper, barely hearing what the attacker said next.

Boucher: But now you know I'm serious. Get up.

He "helped" her get to her feet by pulling on her hair, something Arys barely felt. Once standing again, there was only a split second of time before he yanked back, tilting her head back so she was staring almost directly at the ceiling. Scalpel again at her throat, he reiterated the instructions he'd given her before.

Boucher: You will take me to the helm of this ship - the cockpit or bridge or whatever a vessel this size needs - and you will do so without any further detours, or I will kill you next. Clear?

Trovek: Yes...

Boucher: Good girl. Now move.

Arys complied, her mind racing with fear and desperation, but something was different than before.

Arys: It's because you know.

oO Know what? Oo, Arys thought, not even realising that she was engaging in a conversation with her hallucination. But no answer came, and instead, they arrived at the door leading towards the cockpit before she could think of a new plan. The door slid open, revealing an Ensign, who turned around to them, his eyes widening as he beheld the scene in front of him.

Boucher: response

LeVesque: I-... :

He looked at Arys with fear in his eyes, unable to comprehend what was happening.

LeVesque. Arys remembered his name. She saw his hands shaking, moving towards his phaser, and...

Trovek: Ensign LeVesque. Lock in autopilot and evacuate. No one else needs to get hurt.

She heard herself speak, but was as surprised by her words as the Ensign was. Her voice was trembling and had retained nothing of her usual composure, but her orders were clear.

Boucher: response

Overriding the ejection of the escape pods would be near impossible, even once the attacker got control of the ship. LeVesque obliged, moving veeeery slowly as he cleared the area. The door slid shut behind him.

Boucher: response

It was the best chance she could give the others. Because that voice was right. She did know. She knew that she was not getting out if this.

Trovek: Computer, seal doors.

And now, neither was he.

Boucher: response

TAG/TBC

PNPC Lt. Trovek Arys
Chief Medical Officer
Starbase 118 Ops
J239809TA4

“Paths are made by walking”
-- Franz Kafka

 

[Lt. Tito & Lt. Cmdr. DeVeau - Change Of Focus]

I do try my best to write two different characters. But since the author is the same... 🤷‍♂️

 

[Artemis-cellaneous: Memorable whatevers from The Borderlands]

Also I love @Jovenan innocence. 

 

Quote

Silveira: A retractable disco ball for the Bridge. Now that would be stylish.

A disco… ball? Jovenan wasn’t aware of anything with that name. Disco, as in discovery? She pictured a spherical object that would map the surrounding area, showing all new discoveries by a ship on an exploratory mission. It seemed somewhat redundant considering they had a stellar navigation lab, and she couldn’t imagine why the tactical officer wanted one, but all in all it seemed like a marvellous idea. All ships should have a disco ball on the bridge for easier navigation!