Brell

LtJG Lambert – Fly suicide ramming ((Bridge, Deck 1, USS Atlantis)) :: The Frenchman was a little uncomfortable with the situation they were facing right now. First, the naive attempt of breaking down their communications had jeopardized the entire mission and put all away teams in great danger. Now the inspection team was trying to outwit one of the disputing parties in a direct violation of their stated rules. That behavior clearly would not buy Starfleet more respect. :: Williams: =/\= I hope you are right about that. If they catch those too we are in a lot more trouble and you are at the front line. Be advised things out here are getting dangerous too. We have gone to condition yellow. We have a lock on you. The moment you hit trouble let me know. A simple distress signal from a badge is all we need =/\= Danara:=/\= Copy that Atlantis. =/\= ::The science officer checked again the planetary readouts in a hope to get something to ease his mind from those worries. But before he could continue to amuse himself with the scientific aspect of that mission, the acting commanding officer spoke his mind.:: Williams: Alright everyone. We have 10 minutes to come up with a damn good excuse and a counteroffer. I want options and I want them now. We are not turning over anyone of this crew and I don’t want our away team in even more danger. Tel-ar: What about the Caraadians? Williams: It might be a bit premature to fill them in. I’m sure that they will follow their foes if they turn on us. Then we can still ask for help if needed. ::In a burst of concern, the scientist started to talk about what was wandering at his head.:: Lambert: We must avert confrontation here. ::paused to think:: This will jeopardize the mediation meeting for sure. :: As the debate continued Christopher distracted himself looking the viewscreen. The four larger ships had moved a little from previous positions but nothing to worry yet. The intense and slow flow of freighters and shuttles was the same with a tiny little exception that grabbed everybody’s attention. :: Williams: What’s that? Lambert: ::returning his attention to the science console:: It is a shuttle of ... Tel-ar: :: When he paused for some reason Tal responded. :: It is an older civilian style shuttlecraft of Valcarian origins. Lambert: Yes. Valcarian in origin. ::tapping some commands:: I´m detecting Humans life signs aboard, sir. ::Christopher knew that everything concerned tactical and security was the responsibility of Commander Tel-ar, and was not his intention to overstep him, but he got curious. And judging from Captain’s next question he got intrigued as well.:: Williams: Humans? Are you sure? Could they be refugees of some sort, looking for asylum? T’Bel: The only logical conclusion is they wish to proceed and arrange for a prisoner exchange, a very common occurrence in these kind of situations. ::The reasoning of the Vulcan was sound. It could be some psychological move to force Williams’ hand, but if it was a prisoner exchange why send so many for just one Starfleet officer? Sending a shuttle right between the station, the Caraadian destroyer and Atlantis seemed a bold move. Unless…:: Lambert: oO He wouldn't dare to use them as a human shield. Wouldn't he? Oo ::eyes wide opened:: Williams: Surely they don’t expect us to turn over one of our own… Run a full scan on it. ::Christopher was very used to think straight despite not been Vulcan. Several years as a researcher and physicist taught a trick or two to him. And at that time, nobody was willing to consider the obvious. So, the science officer gave voice to those ideas.:: Lambert: ::standing up:: Sir, I know you do not want to hear that but we may be forced to deliver T’Bel to them. Williams: How so? T’bel : The shuttle in itself is not a threat. If I may commander, our predicament is dire, we could perhaps have the upper hand against those two Valcarian Cruisers but they is no saying whether the nobles will ally themselves to us or remain neutral or even worse choose the Valcarian’s side hopping to benefit from it. We are outsiders here, thus we should not try and assert a dominance stance here. Tel-ar: Considering the history between the Valcarians and the Caraadians the odds of them ever fighting together are astronomical improbable. It would be like Romulans and Klingons suddenly becoming the best of friends. :: slight pause :: Not to say that they would automatically side with us against the Valcarians and not to discount the possibility that they would encourage open hostilities between us and the Valcarians. In this anything is possible, except them co-operating, that is highly unlikely. Williams: You’ve GOT to be joking! T’bel: No Sir, they are still in our system, they were successful in uploading a subroutine, as it stands it is trying to gain control of our propulsion and weapons systems. I am containing it as we speak, and setting up counter measures to wipe it out, but there is no telling at this point if I will be successful. I may have to implement a computer core shut down and do a cold restart. I will need to head to main engineering for that. Tel-ar: The alien electronic attack is highly sophisticated and completely new to our systems, that is making it extremely hard for the us to isolate, stop and eliminate from our systems. Williams. UNACCEPTABLE! ::Those were all valid points. The cybernetic attack could be a self-defense mechanism but it could be a real and implacable attack. Enter into a battle with a compromised computer core was a very risk alternative. It could affect the shields and weapons and let Atlantis defenseless. Once again Christopher spoke his mind.:: Lambert: Sir! ::waiting for the commander to calm down:: They seemed do not have intentions to back off, and we must guarantee a chance of success for Commander Brell. Williams: Given the situation.. it might be best to check in with the captain... T’bel: Before you do that, allow me to head to main engineering Commander? Williams: Response Tel-ar: At this time I would say that the first priority is to disable the alien program that has infected our systems. After that, we can deal with their demands regarding Ensign T’Bel. ::Christopher agreed with all arguments. He did not want T’Bel to die, but she could buy some time for them. Commander Williams could request that he went for a federation trial after the end of the mediation or something like that. They could implant some safety mechanism to secure that as well.:: ::As Ensign T’Bel left the bridge they continue to discuss the possible outcomes of the next move. To purge the computer’s core from the cyber virus was the most logical and safe way to proceed that moment.:: Lambert: I know, I know. ::thinking hard:: We could implant a subcutaneous transport beacon on the Ensign. ::stroking his chin:: As soon as she activated it, we beamed her back. ::sitting down:: Besides, we would have a team aboard the station who could support her. Williams: I think it's best if we inform the captain first… Open a channel ::Christopher took a deep breath and tried to relax a little while he started to prepare his station for the cold reboot. He saved all the important files and started to cancel one by one all the sensor sweeps and probing he had requested the short-range pallets to make.:: Williams: =/\= Atlantis to Brell =/\= Brell:=/\= Go ahead Commander. =/\= Williams: =/\= Sir, I am sorry for interrupting. Can we speak for a moment?=/\= Brell: =/\= One moment. =/\= ::He tapped the badge again to silence it for a moment. He then looked to the representatives.:: ::The chat over the comm did not delay to resume.:: Brell: =/\= Go ahead Commander. =/\= Williams: =/\= We tried to log in to the space stations comm system. Its seems we walked right into a trap. They now demand we turn over T’Bel for questioning and trail… maybe even worse. It seems they have taken a few humans from the station and sent them in an automated shuttle towards us. No doubt as a signal that we must comply… Brell: =/\= They expect us to trade her for them? They can’t be serious. =/\= Williams: =/\= The way I see it we can either bluff and threaten them to support the Caraadians in their claims if they use foul play against us… Or we give in and turn T’bel over and hope for the best. Brell: =/\= I doubt it would for the best. =/\= Williams: =/\= I came to the same conclusion… but i wanted to consult you first. ::Lambert was not sure yet what was the intention of the Imperial Advisor with that move. He just sent the shuttle. He did not contact Atlantis again and made more demands. Just sent and wait. Could he be a strategist? Could he be trying to get some knowledge about Starfleet’s modus operandi? There were much more variables than equations in that situation and in this case, the result was undetermined.:: Brell: =/\= Recover the Federation citizens, but I do not intend to give over one of our officers. I am going to try and get things moving fast here knowing it's getting tense up there. =/\= Williams: =/\= response =/\= Brell: =/\= I don’t like this. I need to quickly establish if this is trap down here as well, or a diversion. =/\= Williams: =/\= response =/\= ::But before they could reach an agreement a new situation seemed to arise. The Andorian Commander got nervous with his station what grabbed Lambert’s attention from his table.:: Tel-ar: Unauthorized transport has been initiated from transporter room 2, deck 4. Ensign T’Bel has beamed to the Valcarian shuttle and beamed the 5 humans and 2 Aselans to transporter room 2. Williams: Response Lambert: She’s a crazy dude. ::shocked:: Without any means to recover her!!! Williams: =/\= response =/\= Brell: =/\= Commander, do what you have to to get her back, try contacting Lieutenant Danara’s team and let them know their mission is about to become a rescue as soon as that shuttle gets back to the starport if the Ensign is still aboard it. =/\= Williams: =/\= response. =/\= Brell: =/\= Tell her the extraction needs to quick and then she is to get back to atlantis on the shuttle they took. Stun only if they they encounter resistance. =/\= Williams: =/\= response. =/\= Brell: =/\= I am going back in there to give them some choices to de-escalate things. Hopefully you won’t be shooting up there by then. =/\= Williams: =/\= response. =/\= Brell: =/\= Do your best Commander, Brell out. =/\= ::After the channel was closed the reports continued to come from the Transporter room. That could be considered an act of bravery for a human but a Vulcan… The chief of security was concerned about something that Christopher could not anticipate and started to give orders.:: Tel-ar: =/\= Security team to transporter room 2. Detain and secure all 7 individuals. None have authorization to be here let alone to wander around. Cmdr. Tel-ar out. =/\= Lieutenant Commander Ensign T’Bel has tampered with the transporter controls. No transport can be attempted at this time. Williams: Response. Lambert: Sensor confirmed Ensign T’Bel aboard the Valcarian Shuttle, but …. ::waiting some seconds:: Tel-ar: Might I suggest that once the Ensign has been retrieved that they are examined by both medical and the ship’s counselor. Williams: Response Lambert: One more second, sir… ::frenetically checking and rechecking the sensors:: Tel-ar: Simple, her actions are extremely illogical, not at all what one would expect from a Vulcan. Lambert: Sir, I can´t read T’bel life signs anymore. Somehow his commbadge was destroyed or they created a dampening field. Williams: Response Tel-ar: Response Lambert: I can't be sure of that… It can be something T’Bel did with the Transporter’s controls as well. Williams: Response Tel-ar: Response ::And then the final blow came. From nowhere and without warning. As T’Bel’s behavior, it was not anticipated but could have been predicted, as one of the side effects of the cybernetic attack. When the shields went down the entire bridge got scared. They were now defenseless and could be easily destroyed with a single torpedo volley.:: Lambert: The shuttle continues in an intercept course. ::looking to Tel-Ar:: A fly suicide ramming, Commander?! Williams: Response Tel-ar: Response TBC Lieutenant JG Christopher Lambert Science Officer | Physicist USS Atlantis --------------------------------------------------- “When you have eliminated all that is impossible, whatever remains must be the truth, no matter how improbable.” – Sherlock Holmes --------------------------------------------------- D239306CL0

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((Caraadian colony, Devron, civilian sector)) ::What happens behind the inner city walls of Devron was a question nobody knew the answer on. Only the nobles and the servants knew that but everyone was afraid to ask. The locals had to live with rumors, yet they way they have to live is decided behind those walls. Kali grew up in the city of Devron. He wasn't a noble, nor did he live in extreme poverty. All he knew was that this little land piece was keeping his family alive for ages. He pulls out a few Tasoul (vegetable) and places them in a full crate and looks around if he can see his younger brother:: Kali: Marw where are you? ::Marw is the youngest of the bunch:: Marw: ::sighs:: comming... ::walking slowly, not ever in a hurry:: one done already Kali: ::he hands him the crate with vegetables:: If you take these inside than Verta can try to sell them again. ::Verta was their older sister which was running their family shop and every other day Kali and Marw would sell their fruits and vegetables on the local market. Selling their goods to the Caradiaan nobles and never getting paid enough. This was the way they had to live, yet life here had been peaceful, until now.:: Kali: did you hear the rumors? ::Kali walked toward his sister Verta:: Verta: ::grins:: which of the many? Kali: ::he whispers in a nasty tone:: about the Valcarians? Marw: ::slow and annoyed:: why even bother yourself with stuff like that? It has nothing to do with us.... ::He couldn't care less about what would happen with the city.:: Verta: ::she frowns:: of course it does. The Caradiaan and Valcarian nobles seem to be on the verge of a war. Their decisions will affect our lives too Marw. Kali: and we don't get to hear anything except for rumors, probably spread by the Caradiaan or Valcarian nobles themselves. ::Kali sat down:: ::Marw rolls with his eyes and walks away towards the other room:: Kali ::to Marw:: We'll head out to the market tomorrow morning. Perhaps the old marketman knows a bit more. ::He hears Marw growl a little bit. Kali sighs and and closes his eyes for a moment:: oO I wonder how mother is doing Oo ::Their mother, Merhil, was the only one from their family that got to work as a servant for the noble family of Caradiaan. A few days after their father's death, their mother went to work as a servant and they haven't seen her ever since. Kali would do anything to get inside those walls, inside that building just to see this mom again. He had tried sneaking in many times before, but all in vain. His big sister was "playing" mother for a long time and now that they all grew up she was trying her best to run the small shop. Marw, on the other hand, grew sad after their mother left. Everything was meaningless in his eyes and Kali didn't know how to open his brother's eyes. They had to work together but they've never been so separated before. A few moments later he drifts off in a dream about a better place without nobles and where mothers could be mothers again instead of servants:: ============================= MSNPC's Kali (Marw & Verta) Caradiaan Civilians, farmers and shop owners. as simmed by: Lieutenant JG. Femi Cattan Chief Nursing Officer, USS Atlantis Z239308FC0 https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=Femi_Cattan

((Main Operations Room, Orbital Starport, Devron Planet)) ::The Imperial Advisor was there, looking at a giant holographic screen for almost an entire hour, motionless eye’s balls, hands tied up at his back, column perfectly straightened. Around himself, a busy operation room, with several Valcarian officers and servants walking around fulfilling their roles. It was not clear if he was sleeping standing or giving a show of discipline for everyone else. :: Tar’Kahrs: Sir! ::the chief officer spoke:: The federation shuttle just docked. Sam’Yasin: ::without moving a muscle:: Everything is setup as I requested? Tar’Kahrs: Affirmative! Several agents of the empire were deployed as common traders throughout the entire stations. ::checking some readouts:: Our scans on their unit revealed that they brought several kind of weapons and equipment but they would remain on the shuttle. ::The Valcarian representative of the Empire nodded in satisfaction. If everything went as he planned that inspection team would be leaving his station in less than a hour.:: Sam’Yasin: I thought it is for our best interest to allow them to remain with their communication devices. ::turning around and heading to the chief office’s position:: However, during the searching on the arrival, deploy the agent Atew’ahq to phreak their devices. This way we could monitor their communications and track their movements. Tar’Kahrs: Right away, excellency! ((A couple of minutes later)) ((Docking Port Three)) ::A small squad of Valcarian soldiers was guarding the docking port when the Starfleet officers disembarked. Agent Atew’ahq was a female officer of intelligence and was waiting for them.:: Atew’ahq: This is the Valcarian orbiting Starport of Devron planet. ::forcing a smile:: Danara: Response Atew’ahq: In the name of our beloved Imperial Advisor, Lord Sam’Yasin, I welcome you to the station. Danara/Logan/McKnight:: Responses Atew’ahq: Please step into this line and let your commbadges over the desk. ::pointing to the table:: You will step orderly, one at the time, through the scanning arc. ::walking out of the way:: As an act of generosity and confidence from our Lord Advisor, you will be allowed to use your communicators, and only that, during your time with us. Danara/Logan/McKnight:: Responses ((Main Operations Room)) ::The Valcarian was watching the arrival of the Starfleet officers through a hidden camera when his studies were interrupted abruptly. :: Au’Err: Lord Advisor! ::tremble voice:: Sam’Yasin: Yes! Au’Err: We just detected that the Federation had tapped at our decoy communication channel. ::Sam’Yasin was warned about Starfleet ingenuity and resourcefulness. He was very worried about if they would try to crack their communications or not and had set up a decoy to be discovered. With that move, he now knew that they were not there just for mediation but to interfere with the interests of the Valcarian Empire. That could not be allowed.:: Sam’Yasin: The main communications are safe? Au’Err: Affirmative. Sam’Yasin: Your life is depending on that, officer. ::he moved toward the main station:: Open a fleet-wide channel and brought Atlantis to it. Put our Captains on alert. ::Few minutes later the clean-looking bridge of Atlantis showed. They seemed a little surprised, either by that call or by his Valcarian looking. Anyway, it was time of some power struggle.:: TBC MSPNPC Sam’Yasin Valcarian Imperial Advisor ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ as played by Lieutenant JG Christopher Lambert Science Officer | Physicist USS Atlantis D239306CL0

Congratulations and welcome to the Fleet! Glad to have you both here writing with us.

Congratulations and welcome to the Fleet! Quite happy to have you all writing here with us!

((Corridor, USS Atlantis)) :: Por’kus waddled down the corridor with his arms piled high with packages and bags, so high in fact that he could barely see over them. Not that he really cared. All that mattered was that he not drop anything. :: :: It did not take long before he reached the door to his room and he was grateful for the door sensors that automatically opened the door to let him enter. It had taken him forever it seemed to figure out how to carry all of this stuff and he was glad that he did not have to set it down and then pick it up again. :: ((His quarters)) :: Once inside his quarters he started to walk across his room when he stumbled and tripped on a pile of dirty laundry, he fell, arms flying wide and bags and boxes went everywhere. :: :: It took him a moment but he pushed himself up and rolled over to sit on the floor, reaching up with one hand to rub his snout where he had banged it on the floor. It felt ok, no blood so he got the rest of the way up and started to pick up stuff. He had a large self-contained fridge in the corner of his room that had its own power source so he did not need worry if the ship lost power. He opened boxes and bags and put over half of the contents in the fridge, restocking his midnight snack supply. :: :: It was an advantage being an engineer, as a result he knew how to build, maintain and customize just about anything, like the fridge and microwave. A replicator would have been more efficient but only officers had those in their quarters and they had to be hard wired into the ships systems in order to operate. The next best thing was his fridge and microwave. :: :: When he started to pick up one of the bags it was soggy and easily ripped open. All of the congealed liquid from the Otherian squid soup gushed out making a mess on the floor. He tossed what was left of the bag and the container towards his garbage can and they bounced off the mound of empty food containers and fell onto the floor. :: :: Looking around he spotted an empty bowl and near it his dustpan. Picking up the dustpan he scooped up as much of the soup as he could making sure that he got all of the chunks of squid then dumped the mess into the bowl. Then he kicked the dirty laundry over the puddle that was left and picked up the bowl and stuffed it into the microwave. :: :: While the soup was heating up he finished putting away the rest of his food and snacks. :: BEEEEP :: At the sound he stopped, opened the microwave and took out the bowl. It smelled fantastic. Looking around he spotted a large spoon sticking out from under his pillow and walked over to grab it. He pushed a half-eaten sandwich out of the way and sat on his bed, bowl in one hand spoon in the other. :: :: As he ate, enjoying one of his favourite soups he wondered what kinds of foods they had on this Devron planet they were going to visit. Maybe he would get a chance to visit it and sample some of the local cuisine. He hoped so. The only think he liked more than eating was drinking and being a member of Starfleet gave him the opportunity to try lots of new and unusual dishes, foods and drinks. :: :: Finished eating he tossed the bowl to land on top of the dirty laundry, stood up and stripped out of his dirty clothes, tossing them onto the pile. As he did he glanced over at his open closet. He had 3 more clean uniforms, then he would have to wash this stuff. :: :: He yawned, scratched his butt through the huge hole in his underwear then sat back down on the sandwich. He rolled to the side enough for him to reach under himself and grab it, then he took a big bite and started to chew as he leaned back and rolled over to lay down on his bed. He fell asleep in moments with the remnants of the sandwich scattered all over him and the bed. :: *********************************** PNPC – Junis Kov Por’kus Petty Officer, 3rd class Engineer USS Atlantis, NCC-74682 As simmed by Cmdr. Tal Tel-ar Chief Security & Tactical Officer USS Atlantis, NCC-74682 Tal Tel-ar’s Writer’s ID: T237708TT0

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((Training facility, deck 4, USS Atlantis, a day before the mission starts)) Williams: And so you should… But never hide behind them. If you don’t agree, speak up your mind and offer someone your insights. You might not always get what you want, but speaking up is better then holding your breath. Cattan: ::to Williams:: I was thinking about doing a warm up first if that's okay with you? Williams: That would be the best way to get started. You can do that in your sport gea if you want. But after that you should take your Judogi . ::he pointed at the suits that he prepared:: ((Time skip)) :: The warm up had taken the women a good 30 minutes. It would become fairly evident that despite Rev'ya's commitment, she was clearly far from happy to be here.:: Cattan: So how do we start :: she looked at Alex :: Williams: We shall start with the basics. :: She watched the Senior officer deploy a punching bag:: Williams: Let’s see what you can do with that. Give it a few punches and kicks. Remember its not about strength but technique Cattan/: Response? T'vete: oO Yeah, that's what get's me through this stuff. Technique, and trying to get that down. There's no pleasure in learning to fight Oo ::She kept any commentary that she might have to herself however, instead just making sure she was going through the proper motions:: Williams: Ensign ::looking at T’Vete:: I see you know what your doing. Try to get a steady rhythm. Cattan, try to deliver a few punches on this one. ::Williams held up the cushion :: Cattan: Response? T’Vete: ::She nodded in response to that, sighing internally:: oO Hmm, I wonder if I should speak to the Legal Sciences Officer, Perhaps with my role as Counselor, I can see if there's any loophole to get out of this kind of stuff. Starfleet is a peaceful organization...I have a duty to object to orders that violate my morality. I'm a pacifist, and yet, here I am. This alone almost violates what it means to be a Counselor, and what it means to me Oo ::This was almost enough to bring her to tears, but she hid that well enough. She repeated the Therapist's Oath under her breath, to reassure herself:: T'vete: ::Whispered::I will, first, do no harm...I will strive to be wise, compassionate and contained with those in my care. I will speak up against torture, exploitation and violence, and tolerate none of these. I will protect those who are vulnerable, and cannot speak up for themselves.I will be silent when it is time to be silent, protecting the sacred oath of confidentiality.I will speak the truth.I will be respectful. I will know my abilities, my limits and myself.I will ask for help when I need it, and acknowledge when I don't know something.I will give back, and strive to make my presence be a healing one in the world.I will take care of myself, so that I can take care of others. Anyone: Response? =========================== Ensign Rev'ya T'vete - Ship's CounselorUSS - AtlantisA239410RT0

Congratulations and welcome to the Fleet! Quite happy to have you here writing with us!

Congratulations and welcome to the Fleet! Glad to have you here writing with us.

What a sim! Amazing JP you two, and a well earned Congratulations!

Congratulations, and welcome to the fleet! (Or back too) So glad to have you all here writing with us!

Had to go with Sela, her sudden appearance was a shocker way back when and a great way for Denise Crosby to grace our screens on TNG twice more.

Congratulations and welcome to the fleet! Glad to have you all here simming with us.

Congratulations to you both and a big WELCOME to the fleet. Very glad to have you two simming here with us.

Congratulations, and welcome to the Fleet! Very glad to have you here writing with us.

Always loved the Galaxy class bridge, but it is one of it's variants that I call my favorite. Though it was only seen in on the big screen in Star Trek Generations the refitted Enterprise-D bridge with it's added stations along the side walls, that I like the most. That brought a extra level functionality I felt was missing from the bridge as it was on the series.

Welcome to the fleet! Glad to have you here writing with us!

I played the heck out so many Trek games; Elite Force 1 & 2, Armada 1 & 2, New Worlds, Starfleet Academy (yeah the one that had like 15 CDs to it), but there is one that no matter how old it gets I enjoy it to this day. BOTF - Birth of the Federation, the turn biased strategy civilization builder. Though it came out in 1999 the game was well ahead of it's time.

Welcome to the fleet! Very glad to have you here writing with us!

((On a Royal Navy Ship, Somewhere on the Atlantic)) ::The black and yellow walls of the holodeck disappeared, replaced with large wooden sailing ship, in the same design as a 19th century English naval ship. It had a deck comprised of great wooden planks, with three huge masts protruding from it. Each of the masts was furnished with great off white sails. Above were clear blue skies and below dark blue water. The ship was apparently sailing upon the high seas, gently rolling with the waves:: :: The two starfleet officers now stood at the stern of the ship, with a sweeping view of the ship in front of them, men busying themselves with work. Stood just in front of them, was a grimy looking human male, with ill fitting, ragged clothes and a cloth over his head, currently steering the ship via a giant wheel:: Thoran: Lieutenant Pond, welcome to Her Majesty’s Ship Destiny. She is an old Earth sailing ship, from the 19th Century. :: He tapped the wooden rail nearby.:: She is a thing of beauty. Thoran: ::He turned to face Isabel:: I’d imagine this is not quite what you expected? Pond: ::smiling awkwardly:: Indeed. I usually prefer something better protected against… ::feeling chilly:: the wind, for example. I feel like I’m a little… wrongly dressed? Thoran: Quite. Perhaps, you may wish to change into something more suitable? Pond: That sounds like a good idea. Those clouds over there do not look very friendly. ::As someone mainly concerned with space, the interpretation of clouds and winds was of course far beyond Isabel’s grasp of understanding. However, she had lived on a planet, and whenever dark clouds like these appeared over the sea, it had been time to search for a sturdy shelter.:: Pond: What has the program to offer? Thoran: Well let me see. :: He thought for a minute about the different options he could present to Isabel, which thankfully were not a lot.:: I think you would be best suited with an outfit similar to mine, as i’m not quite sure you’re ready for the lower decks. ::He smiled at the thought of the young trill trying to run the guns amongst the beast like men of the crew:: Computer, create outfit 19th century Royal Navy officer’s attire. ::The integrated replicator circuits of the holodeck produced an uniform quite similar to the one Ensign Thoran was already wearing. However, it was evident from afar that his was of a major quality. The signs of wear alone made it blend into the scenery, very different to the brand new suit in Isabel’s hands.:: Pond: I think I’ll go downstairs to change. Thoran: Very well Isabel, I shall see you shortly. :: As Isabel disappeared, Thoran closed his eyes, feeling the wind upon his face and took a few deep breaths, taking in the smell of gunpowder, wood, grease mixed with the salty scent of the ocean.:: ::Without further ado, the Trill slid down the wooden stairs as she would have done on a Starship. Unfortunately, she wasn’t very much experienced with wood and caught pinpoint an enormous splinter. It was of course not a big problem for a physician, but it still hurt a bit.:: ::On the lower deck, or however it was called in sailor terms, the air was sticky and one had to search for a bit of unused oxygen. No wonder everyone who was able to spent the day on the deck. Like that, she easily found a hidden corner where she could change. She hid her jogging clothes inside a hammock, hoping they would be left behind once they would terminate the program.:: ::Now adequately dressed, she had a look around on this deck. It was a very cluttered sight and she questioned the ability of anyone finding anything in this mess. The only neat thing around were accurately lined up cannons. They all had enough space around to manipulate them and ammunition and powder was ready at hand. This clearly seemed to be a warship.:: ::Continuing further towards the bow, Isabel had to climb over barrels of supplies, hammocks hanging criss and cross and seabags full of stinking clothes. She was indeed relieved when she reached the exit at the other end of the deck. The Trill took the ladder back to the top. With only her head sticking out of the bulkhead and after her eyes had once again adjusted to the light, she looked at the boots of another very heavy sailor.:: Sailor 1: Aye Matey what do we have ‘ere? ::Rather ruggedy, he grabbed her at the collar and pulled her out in one go. Isabel was too astonished about the strength of the character to do anything about it.:: Sailor 1: Mates, look at that, a gal in officer’s attire. ::Within seconds, Isabel was surrounded by a flock of more or less angry looking sailors. She tried to strike an impressive, authority-inducing pose, but it had no effect at all.:: Sailor 2: A cutty indeed. What do we do, lads? Sailor 3: That’s not good… Not good at all. Everyone knows. A shrew on board ain’t no good. ::The sailors drew the circle closer and Isabel learned very quickly how walking the planks must feel like. Actually, she was surprised that no-one handed a wooden board to the mob leader, just to make the feeling a tad more real.:: Pond: Uhm, Thoran, a little help here? ::She couldn’t see the Ensign from her standpoint. Her 5 foot 2 was barely chest high for most of these bears in front of her. Quite agile, she jumped on top of the rail and barely got a hold of a piece of rope, preventing her continuing leap into the ocean. From what she had seen, Thoran’s dress surely made him something quite high ranking on this vessel, he could bring some sense into these men. She hoped.:: :: Thoran had been discussing the ship's supplies with the Purser when he noticed a small gathering at the far end of the ship. He called to the ship’s Master, a heavy set man, with a big thick beard who went by the name Hal.:: Thoran: Hal, sort that ramble out, we have not got time for this nonsense. :: At that moment a figure broke from the gathering, and via a rope leapt into the ocean. Cries of man overboard resounded around the ship. He could not be certain, but that figure who had gone into the sea, looked a lot like Isabel.:: ::”Leaping” Was not exactly how Isabel would have described it. Maybe she would have considered it in more tropical waters, like the ones of her hometown, but this ocean looked dark and scary and very cold.:: ::And unfortunately quite wavy. A specially devious one just had hit the ship from eleven o’clock, sending a gentle but rather unexpected ramble through the ship’s body, making her lose her footing and plunge backwards towards the ocean.:: ::She couldn’t exactly see when the surface was arriving, but it had to come at any moment. The top of the ship grew smaller and smaller, while more and more faces appeared at the edge. Isabel was definitely sure most of them looked amused.:: ::Then the Trill hit the water and it was as cold and uninviting as she had expected it to be. Her extensive clothing instantly dragged her down, but luckily, she had teared down the rope she initially hung onto. Two swimming strokes were enough to once again reach it and she was able to pull herself back to the top. For most of the time, anyway.:: :: Thoran headed to the source of the commotion, where some of the crew were now grabbing poles and holding them over the side for the seaman to grab hold of. As he reached the side, he saw the figure of a very angry Isabel bopping up and down in the water:: Thoran: We’ll have you out in a moment. :: He turned to the Master:: Find out what has happened here, I want a full report, including any charges:: Master Hal:: Aye cap’n. Right you ‘orrible lot, get back t’it or i’ll ‘ave you’ll up on charge. :: He turned to one of the figures stood in the centre of the group:: You there, get yerself below deck NOW, I wanna ‘ave a word wiv ya. ::Isabel then was quickly brought back on board. Everything was cold and she felt quite miserable and considerably angry. The Trill wished she had not changed clothes, the water-soaked uniform must weigh a couple of tons.:: Thoran: :: He passed Isabel a woolen blanket:: Glad to have you back with us. Come, let’s get you dried off and some new clothes. :: He gestured towards his cabin at the far end of the ship:: After you. :: The crew made way for them, giving them a salute as they passed. As they approached the door to the cabin, the marine sentry stood to attention and opened the door. Once inside Thoran gestured to a screen on the right hand side of the room :: You may get changed behind there. :: He turned to a young boy stood in the corner of the room.:: Yeoman, please arrange for some tea.:: Pond: ::grumbling:: Maybe with something extra in it, that would be fine... :: The boy returned carrying a tray with a teapot and two cups, placing it down on a large oak deck in the centre of the room and proceeded to pour two cups. Thoran sat down in one of the chairs adjacent to the table, picking up one of the cups and taking a sip. Isabel emerged from behind the screen, slightly drier than when he had seen her last.:: Thoran: Please, take a seat and have some tea. :: He gestured to the seat opposite his:: And perhaps, you could tell me what happened? Pond: ::calmly upset:: Well, your men were not exactly pleased to see me on board. I wanted to jump unto the fence-thing around the deck to make myself heard, but you see, it didn’t turn out quite as I’ve thought it would. Pond: oO I should have picked up gymnastics instead of dancing. Some somersaults on the beam and nothing could have brought me off that reiling. Oo Thoran: :: Trying to stifle a laugh:: I am sorry about that. The men do tend to get a little :: he paused for a moment, trying to think of the best way to phrase this:: excited when they see a female, especially one in a uniform. Pond: ::seriously not serious:: I feel like… You know, what do sailors do? Keelhaul someone? Thoran: Well I will admit you do slightly resemble someone who has been keelhauled, although you are a lot less ragged than they would be. :: A small smile spread across his face:: it doesn’t seem like we’re getting off to a good start here. If I may ask, what do you prefer I call you? Pond: ::sighing:: I guess we’re past Lieutenant Pond by now. You can call me Isabel when off duty. Thoran: Well it is a pleasure to meet you Isabel. Care to indulge in a spot of pirate hunting? ::Pirate hunting sounded much more violent than the peaceful run through the forest. However, Isabel rarely Pond: I don’t know, I might have seen enough naval daily business. Do you think you can make these characters not throwing me over board a second time or do we have to temporarily change the program before that? :: Thoran leant forward and took another sip of tea. It had been one of things he had missed since leaving his homeworld, real home-brewed tea. It was not often his father was without a cup.:: Thoran: Whilst I cannot guarantee they will not throw you overboard, they can be a lively lot after all, you have my assure the matter has been dealt with. :: Thoran stood up, walking over to a sizeable desk at the rear of the cabin, covered with yellowed parchments. He picked the top one, unfurled and read it, before placing it back down:: Thoran: Now, there have been rumours of pirates attacking merchant ships just north of our current position. Our orders are to find and apprehend them. It should make a good prize for the crew. :: He turned to face Isabel:: Tell me, do you know anything about sailing or warfare? ::Isabel had almost interrupted him with a remark about better going south, as there it is supposedly warmer as in the north. But then she realised that this wasn’t a shuttle and they couldn’t possibly sail far enough within the remaining half hour or so to have thie making a difference.:: Pond: ::shrugging:: I know in which direction the ship’s supposed to go. ::pointing hesitantly:: Thoran: :: He smiled to himself. She at least knew something, more than most fresh faces on board did.:: That is correct. I will warn you, although this is a holo program, it can get quite um messy. Especially when it comes to the fight.:: :: The pair were interrupted by a knock on the door. Thoran called them in. It was young boy, no older than fifteen, with ill fitting clothes and holding a cap in his hand:: Boy: Beg ya pardon Cap’n, ships bin sighted windward offa starboard. Pond: oO Uhoh, Captain, already… Quite ambitious, this young man… Oo :: He thanked and dismissed the boy. He turned to face Isabel with a large grin on his face:: Thoran: Well, it seems we may not have to wait long. Care to join me on the deck? ::The doctors hopes that they would calmly cruise through the water on an unsuccessful search were therefore eliminated. Honestly, that had been to be expected, after all it is a programm designed to entertain and not to bore someone into a coma. As this was all that it was, a program, Isabel decided that if she’s here already, she could also let some of her anger about her own incompetence out on these virtual bad guys.:: Pond: Sure, let’s kick some pirate’s butt… Thoran: Excellent! I like your spirit. After you Miss Isabel. :: The pair left the cabin and headed up to the main deck. The crew was already assembled and waiting for the Captain’s orders. The Trill met some rather strange looks from the crew, she prefered to not know what had happened up here while she was drying off under deck. However, her gaze was soon directed to the horizon, hoping to spot the enemy ship. Isabel was not entirely sure if she was looking at the right spot, even though she knew where starboard was. Still being unsuccessful in her attempts, she looked back to Thoran, expecting some sort of rousing battle speech.:: :: Thoran took the telescope the sailing master handed him and looked in the direction the man was pointing. It seemed they had found their prey and Thoran was looking forward to playing this out with Isabel.:: Thoran: :: He passed the telescope to Isabel:: Just over there, on the horizon. She’s smaller than us, so she will be faster but we have the wind gauge. :: Isabel nodded knowingly, without knowing what that means. He turned to face the crew who had been assembled on the deck.:: Right men, the time is upon us. They have raided several of the King’s ships and we cannot let this continue. As I look upon you, I know you will each do your duty and you are as eager as I to get into the action. If we can take the ship undamaged, she will make a mighty prize.. Now, every man to his station and be quick about it. _______________________________ Ensign Jarred Thoran Security And Tactical Officer Andaris Task Force, USS Blackwell NCC-58999 A239405JT0 And Lt Isabel Pond Medical Officer USS Atlantis D239212IP0

Thank you I am very honored and touched to be receiving the Chief's Citation and the sentiments shared, they will all be treasured. I'd like to also extend Congratulations to everyone! We had an amazing year and Staff working diligently behind the scenes made that possible. Rich and his contributions to the wiki caught my notice before we had really interacted with one another. The amount and quality of his work has made our wiki shine even more than it had before. In fleet chats where we have interacted, I found him to be charming and funny and, am looking forward to see if we will be neck and neck again at trivia like we were last year! Jamie and I have mostly worked together at the Academy, and of course interacted in the chat where she is always up for a bit of talking with fleet mates. At the academy I got a first hand look at the humor and cheery attitude Jamie seems to always have both in sims and in every OOC message. Her feedback to cadets I found to be an inspiration in postivity and helped me find ways to improve when feedback myself. Any place seems to be brighter when she is around OOC or IC. Tony was my cadet steward so he was part of my fleet experience ever since I returned to the group. Working with him on OOC projects was a joy and his leadership skills, and friendliness always shined. I too hope RL will allow him to come back to us one day. Ann's grace under fire and civility when dealing with problematic issues is something I remember well during my time on the Embassy staff. Being even handed is not always easy to do yet Ann ensures it in every communication she makes. She will always be my oldest friend in the fleet and I still think back to the adventures we shared as fresh officers. With James being, my mentor and CO I have seen his dedication to the fleet, the academy, and his ship first hand on a daily basis. Inspiration does not fully cover just impressive all of that is. He lives and breathes with the fleet always in mind and does so with distinction and honor. Thank you for everything that you do and Congratulations!

((Primary Sickbay - Deck 18, USS Blackwell)) G’Renn: Alright crewman, what’s missing? Lee: That crate of fresh medical kits that was brought up some storage earlier today. ::While cleaning up after the mass treatment of plague victims back at Debin VII, Anath had arranged for a crate of supplies no longer needed to be moved down to one of the cargo bays.Unfortunately, another crate just like it of fresh medical kits had been set down next to it at some point in the meantime. Now, the cargo that had just been brought up to sickbay was gone again. It was only a minor irritant, but it was the straw that broke the camel’s back so to speak.:: G’Renn: Computer, who moved the cargo container from Sickbay storage? ::Anath looked at the name that appeared and scowled. As irritated as she had been with all the occurrences of bad luck and inconveniences thus far, no person could really be said to be at fault for causing them. Now she had a name that she could point at as a definitive cause of her stress. The officer likely didn’t deserve any scorn of anger for just trying to be helpful, but he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.:: G’Renn: Computer, locate Ensign Ferentis Computer: Ensign Ferentis is in Cargo Bay 5. G’Renn: Thank you. Don’t worry crewman, I’ll go get those supplies back. ::She stormed out of sickbay towards the nearest turbolift. She was going to get her stuff back.:: ((Timeskip- Arrival in the cargo bay)) ((Cargo Bay 5 - Deck 15, USS Blackwell)) ::The containers he was attempting to move were far too heavy for the average humanoid. Even so, the tractor loader sat unused in one corner of the bay. Ferentis wasn’t above showing off every once in awhile, but this time, utilizing his raw muscle was more therapeutic than entertaining. His normally focused mind broiled with doubts and concerns, a rarity for him. It had been weeks since he’d been banned from his home, and though there had been no news or contact from Dupwa’thuv besides the norm, he had to assume that everything was still relatively status quo. Still, he could see the storm clouds brewing. It was only a matter of time before the status quo was nothing but a memory- one lost in the chaos only a self-destructing people could provide.:: ::He still didn’t know what his family was planning. Pakhwa’thanh were polite to a fault, but there were also inquisitive, and would pursue a question relentlessly. Banishing a member of their own species was legal, but exceedingly rare. To learn that someone with such a noble lineage had been officially cast from his world permanently would raise eyebrows if the fact ever became known, and then the questions would begin. His family was quite high in status- high enough so that a few whispers in the right ears, combined with such an honored reputation and respectable status, would make the banishing possible. Still, there were so many unanswered questions. And though he’d been expecting something like this for years, now that it had happened, everything suddenly became agonizingly real.:: ::A most pleasant thought then occurred to him. Maybe it was possible that his family wasn’t planning anything. That stopped him dead. He placed the cargo container down and pondered, claws gently caressing his leathery face. Perhaps this wasn’t the first step in a brutal and pivotal political upset or coup. Maybe this was the equivalent of cleaning house. It had been accepted for decades that he was effectively banished from Dupwa’thuv, by his family, if no one else- perhaps this was just the official notification. His heart buoyed momentarily, before remembering why he’d left home in the first place. He’d like to believe that nothing was happening. But he’d spent too long in space, and worrying about his clan and species, to grasp at comforting falsehoods.:: G’Renn: Ensign Ferentis! ::He grunted as he lowered the crate, trying not to show his surprise. He was exceptionally polite, and so calm, it was (sometimes) easy to forget he was, in fact, a nine-foot dinosaur. Still, it didn’t mean that he was immune to such feelings, and the loud voice, picked up by his sensitive hearing, and combined with the acoustic attributes of the cargo bay, scared him half to death.:: ::His eyes turned toward the very, very angry Klingon woman marching toward him. Whatever it was she was furious about, he had to admire her. Most people stopped shouting at him when they saw the length of his teeth. This individual apparently had no such fear.:: G’Renn: I would like my crate of medical supplies back. You moved the wrong crate! ::So young. So full of fire! She couldn’t have been more than, what? Twenty-five? Twenty-six? A mere child, compared to his fifty-three years. He couldn’t help but find it amusing that she was telling him off.:: ::But what about this crate business? Was it possible? Yes. Unusual, though. He’d always been known to be neat, precise, and punctual. Such mistakes were incredibly rare. Maybe his emotional baggage was impacting his work more than he’d realized.:: ::However, any attempt at defense, explanation or apology seemed futile at this juncture. The Klingon ensign was far from done lambasting him. This was not a problem. He listened attentively, looking on with curiosity as she progressively dismantled his character.:: G’Renn: Perhaps if you had bothered to check with someone, we wouldn’t have to be having this conversation! But no, you just assumed you had the right crate and just went about on your merry way. So now instead of getting some rest after a fourteen hour work day, I get to sort out your mistake! ::Ah. And now they had reached the root of the problem. It wasn’t his minor error- it was the fact that she was expected to fix it. He could absolutely understand her rage, and did not begrudge her at all. Still, such a...violent breach of etiquette was both entertaining and fascinating. He’d never been privy to such displays back home- emotional outbursts, especially the hostile kind, were all but unheard of.:: G’Renn: Well, if you’re just going to stand there, I’ll just move the crate myself! ((Cargo Bay 5 - Deck 15, USS Blackwell)) ::Every person was different, and if he had thought that performing a certain action would have appeased her more than standing there and listening, he probably would have done it. Then again, he was fairly confident that this poor, overworked individual was reaching the zenith of her explosive decompression. He doubted he could say anything to calm her now.:: ::Anath didn’t remember what piece of equipment she had ordered to be sent back down to the cargo bay, the specifics lost in the busy flow of work in sickbay. However, experimentally testing the weight of the container proved one thing. Whatever was inside was heavy, even for Anath with her above-average Vulcan strength. She tried to brush it off as just a casual inspection of the crate before walking over towards one of the anti-grav units. She paused and looked back at Ferentis, part of her still very unhappy with the engineer. She couldn’t help it, and impulsively opened her mouth once more.:: G’Renn: Or, if you wanted, you could say something like “I’m so sorry for the mix-up. Here, let me help!” ::Of course, were he convinced that using his bountiful social grace would alleviate the situation (and the ensign’s apoplectic state), he would have happily apologized, offered to fix the mistake through any means necessary, and suggested that he pay for his mistake by taking on one of her duty shifts. Such was the Pahkwa’thanh tendency to over exaggerate. But in recent years, he’d begun to realize something he never thought would ever occur to him.:: ::”Polite” was not necessarily “kind”.:: ::Everyone needed to explode once in awhile- even him, though no one would ever see it and live to speak of it. Perhaps what this ensign needed was a punching bag. And he was simply overjoyed to take on that responsibility.:: ::She dropped the anti-grav and started pacing back and forth. She needed to put her anger in check before she said something she might regret. Well, that line had been crossed already, but now she could still walk away and apologize once she managed to get a handle on her anger once again. If only she could know when to leave well-enough alone. This engineer wasn’t even saying anything, yet she kept on fuming! One could only yell for so long about nothing:: G’Renn: Well, do you have anything to say! Anything? ::Ferentis stayed perfectly silent. A slow blink was his only response.:: G’Renn: ::With increased irritation at his silence:: You can talk, can’t you? Ferentis: oO Not with you carrying on like that. Oo ::It was merely an observation, one that held no malice or anger.:: G’Renn: You useless petaQ! ::Ooh! New curse words! Fun! Ferentis felt a bit like a hatchling let loose in a slaughterhouse. All these new experiences that he’d barely ever been treated to on Dupwa’thuv. It was absolutely delightful. Still he stayed perfectly motionless and mute.:: ::The most recent angry outburst to come out of her mouth stunned her, the realization of exactly what was coming out of her mouth hitting her with the same force as a punch to the jaw. Anath slipped into the reserve pool of untranslatable Klingon insults and curses in only two situations. First, if she was among rowdier Klingons like her cousins who considered those words a vital and important part of a person’s daily vocabulary and who wouldn’t react should she kindly request they leave her alone using more polite words. The second and far more common situation was when she’d truly and completely lost her cool and let her temper run away with her. It was a sign that all her usual manners and kind personality had been jettisoned out of the nearest airlock while her more direct and aggressive instincts took over. She turned and walked towards the door to give herself a moment to catch her breath:: G’Renn: I- I’ll be right back… ::Then, and only then, did Ferentis give a single, slow nod- permission, understanding, and friendly intent all wrapped into one simple motion.:: ::As she exited, Ferentis idly wondered if she would, in fact, return. Once someone had fully evacuated themselves of pent-up fury, oftentimes they would be too embarrassed to return, and/or apologize. No apology was necessary, but he again found himself curiously speculating on the (still nameless) ensign’s priorities.:: ::Sitting down on the floor, Anath focused on her breathing. Inhale, hold, exhale. It was a simple pattern, but one that didn’t normally require a great deal of thought. It had definitely felt good to clear all that pent-up range and aggravation on Ensign Ferentis, but it was also completely improper. First of all it was just plain rude! But there could be other consequences for that little outburst of her’s, as her counselor at Starfleet Academy could attest to. When she finally felt that she had gotten comfortable in her new home her temper ran away with her again. She needed to apologize, immediately!:: G’Renn: oO But what do I say… Oo ::It took her around five minutes to fully cool off and work out what her apology should be. At one point she stood up to walk back into the cargo bay without any particular conversation-starter in mind, but that strategy had not been particularly productive earlier. Instead, she paced back and forth, considering just what should be the first words out of her mouth when she went into the room to apologize. Finally, she had a basic apology in mind and stepped back inside the cargo bay.:: G’Renn: ::Meekly:: I’m sorry about that Ensign… it was, unbecoming of me to say those things. ::So she had returned. Impressive. Most Klingons he’d met held pride and honor as the most important things in their existence. To face such a wounding to either took courage, strength, and humility. All good things. And even if the ensign hadn’t displayed such a willingness to apologize, Ferentis was sure he would have taken a liking to her anyway.:: Ferentis: It is quite alright. ::He gave a far deeper nod of forgiveness. For some reason, he spoke almost as much with his head and neck as with his mouth.:: G’Renn: I realize we probably got off on the wrong foot, and was wondering if perhaps a round of drinks on me would help to get things back on track between us? ::She wouldn’t actually be drinking of course given her low tolerance for alcohol, but she had learned that the offer often worked as a very effective cure-all to social situations. As long as it might help patch up the bridge her more aggressive self had just tried to burn Anath was willing to extend the invitation. She might not walk away with physical injuries like her encounter with a giant lizard-man on her cadet cruise, but she certainly was suffering from a class four case of wounded pride.:: Ferentis: ::Smiling kindly, almost like a grandfather.:: I would be delighted. And, I am sorry about the mix-up. END Ensign Anath G'Renn Medical Officer, USS Blackwell - Andaris Task Force A239402AG0 AND Ensign Ferentis Engineer USS Blackwell NCC 58999 G239202RS0

Congratulations and welcome to the fleet! Very glad to have you both here writing with us!