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Lance

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  1. ((Promenade, Starbase 118)) :: Alexander once again found himself wandering the promenade deck alone whilst his wife, Marissa, was away on a botanical mission to Pedarves Three. Her civilian team had been attached to a Starfleet expeditionary force owing to their knowledge and experience in the field of Xenobotany. Under normal circumstances he would have been left with their son John However owing to the fact that Marissa was liable to be away for several months and Alexander was due to rejoin the USS Gemini when it returned from whatever mission it was away on, the happily married couple had made a decision to leave John with his grandparents back at the Tycho City lunar colony. :: Richards: oO Hrmm, the air temperature is off by about 2 degrees Celsius. I must remember to to make a note of it to Lieutenant Toral before I depart. It might be something as simple as a misaligned coil in the environmental control systems or could be something more serious. I’m sure they haven’t worked out all of the kinks from the interior rebuild following the events one year prior. Oo :: Coming to his favorite bench on the station which, as usual sat empty mainly because of what Alexander considered the soothing hum of one of the station’s massive Plasma generators. He pulled up beside it and stretched his arms, yawning loudly as he did so. :: Richards: oO So little time spent on this station yet so many memories both good and bad. Nice to see some stability in the new CO, Commander Page. There is no way that he can make as much of a mess of this station as Captain Rogers did. Oo :: He let out a little chuckle as he mused on a situation where he found himself knocked from his chair after Rogers had managed to smash a giant aquarium in the restaurant of the same name. His laughter stopped abruptly when he remembered that in the confusion, Solok had been pushed over a railing and for all intents and purposes killed by the fall. Very soon however a smile returned to his face as he recalled the moment the senior staff of the USS Drake stood up for he and his wife after she had been accosted by the door staff at the seedy establishment Rogers had chosen for a promotion ceremony. :: Richards: oO What is it with that man and trouble. It seems to follow him wherever he goes. Oo :: Thinking of other memories, Richards found himself saddened that he had not made the time to meet up with colonel Whale whilst he had been here. From the things he had heard, the man with a tough exterior yet heart of gold was working his charges well. He knew the colonel was a no nonsense man and had every faith that he wouldn’t pass any man or woman who was incapable. :: Richards: oO So many people, so little time left. I guess i just got too wrapped up in my own little world. Oo :: That of course was very much the heart of the truth. To an outside that may have seemed selfish but to those who knew him, they would understand. In all honesty the death of Vanessa Driscoll on Rathos had left him feeling empty and drained. There was now an indelible mark in his brain, a constant reminder of his own failure as her department head to protect her from harm. He had vivid memories of the argument at the mission briefing for their trip to Rathos of himself speaking up, saying just how bad an idea it was to place a mobile lab on the surface. A lab that had been brought aboard by the ships then mission specialist without even consulting him. Yes it was a medical research lab but with the Gemini having no CMO at the time, the final call regarding the lab should have been his. :: :: Of course all that was moot. The fact was that with everything that happened on the surface of Rathos, the fact the away team escaped with only one death was nothing short of a miracle. Every time he came back to it, it always boiled down to solitary thought that rode through his mind, that it should have been him. Starfleet regulations and his disability be [...]ed, it should have been him and not Vanessa on the surface of Rathos. It was a mistake he was never liable to make again. If he found himself in a position where he was the most suitable candidate for an away team, his name would always be at the top of the list. No more hiding, he was a Starfleet officer, a job that came with inherent risks. :: :: Marissa of course knew those risks and was fully supportive of her husband. She had practically begged him, along with his mother and father, to stay in Starfleet, since he had considered handing in his resignation soon after departing the Gemini. There may have been a slap involved, a tearful argument with boiling emotions but logic and sense won through, as they always did when his loving wife was involved. :: Richards oO I seem to recall the term ‘you are not a quitter’. Oo :: Looking out across the sea of smiles Alexander sighed once again. Repairs following the ion storm had been swift. Thankfully he had been at Tycho during the whole debacle but he had heard through the grapevine that things had been tough for a little while. Grek, his boss whilst he had been working as a barman following his resignation from Starfleet many years ago had assured him that it would take more than the events of the past few years to cause him to abandon a most profitable endeavor. Alexander took that to mean that the poor little Ferengi had too many black market investments in the sector to walk away unscathed should he shut up shop. :: Richards: oO At least i still have my source for a certain type of Contraband. Oo :: A chirp from the LCARS panel on his chair brought his wandering mind back to the here and now. He had hoped that it was a note saying that the Gemini was on her way to dock but alas that wasn't to be. The message still brought a smile to his face as it was from his wife. Although short it let him know that despite the massive instability going on in the Galaxy at the moment owing to an experiment gone ary that her team had arrived at Pedarves Three safe and sound and were beginning their expedition. :: Richards: oO Well that’s a huge worry taken off my mind. I think she’s going to enjoy it out there. Oo TBC Lieutenant Commander Alexander Richards Sabbatical USS Gemini​
  2. ((Engineering Labs, USS Gemini)) :: Harold was relaxing in one of the Engineering labs of the ship. He couldn’t help but feel useless given the current situation. Since he saw this as part of his down time, he had decided to use it wisely by reading one of the many new papers published in the recent months regarding warp drive. It was becoming increasingly obvious to him that he should probably branch out his certification to include these new fangled Quantum Slipstream Drives. :: Konstava: oO As if I needed yet another reminder that I am getting old. Oo :: Sighing to himself and wondering just where the past 40 years had gone, Harold found himself reminiscing on old times both bad and good. He was so wrapped up in his own little world that he failed to notice the distinct hiss of the door as the Transporter Chief walked in. :: Konstava: oO I wonder how Smitty is finding retirement. Hard to believe it’s going on 15 years since he and I were neck deep in broken wreckage fending off Jem’Hadar. Oo Arisu: Uhm.... :: Beat.:: Excuse me? :: The unexpected interruption nearly had Harold jump feet. It took a few moments for the shock to settle before he composed himself enough to respond. :: Konstava: Sorry, I was a million miles away there, in my own world so to speak. What can this lowly Warp Technician do for you today? :: The fellow CPO’s body language spoke volumes and Harold knew this wasn’t going to be like one of his famous jovial chats with his colleagues. He stood up out of his chair and straightened his posture, adjusting his uniform as he rose. If the fellow non-com in front of him wished this to be a formal meeting, he would certainly act the part. :: Arisu: I have a problem. :: She made an audible sigh. :: Apparently a problem that someone only of your skills can solve. :: Konstava was old enough and wise enough to pick out sarcasm when it was presented. Fortunately for the woman who had presented herself to him, that wisdom allowed him to keep his cool in confrontational situations. They may have held the same rank but he was certainly her senior by merit of the fact he had been serving in Starfleet since her parents were probably in diapers. Pulling seniority was something Harold did not have to very often but if push came to shove, he would do so. He shot the CPO a hard glare whilst answering her statement courteously. :: Konstava: Someone of my skills eh? What exactly is the problem? oO I’ll play your little game. Oo :: Harold could be sarcastic as well, not that he liked it. He considered sarcasm both demeaning and arrogant however, when faced with a colleague such as the one in front of him now he could and would make exceptions. If she wanted to play herself up as all high and mighty, he would oblige for as long as he felt the charade was worth keeping up. :: Arisu: Here. :: The CPO threw the PADD at Harold in a haphazard manner. Fortunately for Harold working with warp cores and their various systems and subsystems had granted him excellent hand-eye coordination. He caught the flying device and promptly turned it once settled to begin reading its contents. :: Konstava: Hm, interesting and most curious. :: He scrolled through the information. :: Should be a simple fix. :: Keeping one eye on the obnoxious intruder who was eating into his very valuable time, he continued to read. Had she actually bothered to pay attention to him she would have realized her next statement was entirely redundant. :: Arisu: We appear to be having an issue with transport during warp.. :: She raised her eyebrows. :: Think you have the knowledge to fix it? Konstava: Quite. :: His patience now having evaporated. :: If you had bothered to pay attention to me rather than worrying about this eating up your precious time you would have realized that not only had I gathered that much from the information on this PADD but, that I also had the beginnings of a solution. :: He sat back down in his chair maintaining his posture whilst turning it to face her. :: Of course I am more than surprised that a Transporter Chief doesn’t have a few theories regarding the problem. After all, even for non-coms like ourselves warp theory and annular confinement beams during transport are required reading. Arisu: ::Face beginning to turn red in anger.:: Your time isn't the only time that is precious. ::She folded her arms.:: The manual states that the confinement beam needed to be boosted in power by almost a magnitude to adjust for the fluctuations during warp. :: Harold was laughing inside. Outside, he maintained his stoic expression as he listened to her words with intent. If he didn’t know any better who would have said that the CPO in front of him was rather taken aback by his statement. As much as he disliked the tone and direction of the current discussion, he had to admire her gumption and resolve. In a way it reminded him of what he had been like in his early days. A part of him wanted to go easy on the poor woman since she obviously had no clue that she had just poked the bear inside of him but, this was overruled by both his own pride and his perceived authority in the current situation.:: Konstava: Well of course that didn’t work. With all the various sub systems on this ship, there isn’t enough power to boost the confinement by that much, at least not with the personnel transporters. Arisu: ::Clenching her teeth.:: Instructions that I had on this matter did not mention these limitations. I am the transporter chief, not ::She paused for emphasis.:: the chief engineer. Konstava: You see that’s your problem. Out here on the fringe, we have to often think outside the box and come up with unexpected solutions to what in ordinary circumstances would be benign problems. When you’ve lived as long as I have, completed as many tours as I have you’ll understand this to. :: A broad grin crossed his face. :: At first it may seem like the cargo transporters are entirely unsuitable but, with a little bit of reprogramming they can do exactly what you are trying to accomplish. Time consuming? Of course it is! But it will solve the problem without risking lives or damage to the ship. :: As Harold handed her the PADD he looked her directly in the eye with a look that would cause most to run a mile. He very much felt like he was now in control of the situation whilst serving up plenty of life lessons into the bargain. It wasn’t often that Harold Konstava could be labelled as arrogant yet this was one of those times. It appeared his fellow non-com brought out the worst in him, something he would definitely have to relate to Hannah and Katelynn over a very stiff drink. :: --------- CPO Harold Konstava Warp Specialist USS Gemini As simmed by Lieutenant Commander Alexander Richards Sabbatical USS Gemini
  3. (( Security Office )) Atimen: You've done a god job Smithson. ::break.:: I'll look into it further, see what caused the analysis to come out that way. But for now, enjoy your leave. Smithson: Yes Sir ::she was about to leave when she had a hypothesis, turning around:: Sir, I have just remembered something and now thinking about it, this makes no sense. ::beat:: We find two cloaked probes, initially we thought they were cloaked ships ::beat:: they begin to move away a Tholian ship shows up, they move further away and one explodes. ::beat:: I know Sir that what I done also blinded our sensors for a short time, this would have been more than enough time for the other cloaked probe to be moved out of scanning range. ::beat:: Moreover Sir, what was the Tholian ship doing in Federation space! After all in the past Tholian’s have always played by the rules, theirs ours or both, I think this is the first time they behaved irrationally and not obeyed any form of Protocol. ::beat:: do you think that not strange Sir? ::she asked:: ::Atimen looked at her curiously.:: Atimen: It's in its nature for the status quo to change. ::beat:: Don't worry too much about it, and focus on enjoying your leave. I don't know when we'll get any more of it. Smithson: Very well sir, I shall leave that disturbing supposition with you. ::She left as Atimen turned to head into his office, sighing slightly. He needed this leave badly, but he doubted he'd get to take advantage of much of it.:: (( Chief of Security's Office )) ::Atimen lay crouched over his console, head leaning against his propped up arm as he stared at the screen. He hadn't had time to setup the office like he'd really wanted, with multiple screens and a few holo-emitters, but he'd get there eventually. He was looking at the computer logs, the computer analyzing everything from comm-data to advanced data modifications and displaying anything out of the ordinary.:: oO Could the Grendellai truly create such an advanced virus? Oo ::They weren't known for being good with technology, or advanced enough to even attempt something like this. The nearby One Kingdom was still greatly lagging behind on that aspect, and the Grendellai weren't even organized. Though this attack could be proof that that has changed.:: ::The lists scrolled by, Atimen eyes focusing one as it moved. He paused the analysis, pulling himself fully upright. A communication from Eren to Security while Atimen was on the Gorn vessel. It was tagged due to a slight corruption error on its data header, which the computer saw as a possible fingerprint from the virus. He loaded up the detailed information, which included the message contents.:: Atimen: ::He cursed silently, at the message itself rather than the corruption. He jumped to his feet, muttering as he stormed out of his office.:: That lazy... (( Security Office )) Atimen: MULLER! ::Muller nearly fell out his chair, the console going haywire from his feet skittering over the controls.:: Muller: Sorry Sir! ::He stood up, snapping to attention.:: It won't happen again. Atimen: Oh, I know that. ::Atimen mocked. He tapped his commbadge.:: =/\= Atimen to Johnson, you've been re-assigned to office duty. =/\= ::He turned back to Muller, who stood behind the desk, pale. He hadn't seen Atimen this mad before. Not many people had.:: Muller: Sir...::He began slowly.:: If this is about me putting my feet up... Atimen: You've got far bigger problems than a simple scolding. ::Johnson entered the room, Atimen nodding to him as he turned to enter his office.:: ::Atimen stood behind his desk, his chair pushed against the back wall. Muller entered meekly, standing before the desk, his eyes on the floor. Atimen spun the computer monitor around for Muller to see.:: Atimen: Does this look familiar? ::Muller looked up, gazing at the screen. His stare seemed... detached, like he didn't understand what was happening.:: Muller: It is the log of a communication from Ensign Eren to security. Atimen: It's Lieutenant Eren now, and yes, yes it is. However the contents concern me more, specifically since you responded to that comm. ::Atimen looked Muller straight in the eye, his gaze piercing through the man's soul.:: Now, can you remember what Eren told you? ::Muller couldn't keep the gaze, his head dropping as he looked at the floor.:: Muller: She warned of a saboteur on board... ::He muttered quietly.:: Atimen: And what did you do? ::Atimen interrogated, as Muller remained silent, opening his mouth slightly.:: Muller: Nothing...::beat.:: I did nothing... Atimen: Were you ordered to remain silent? Muller: No... Atimen: Did you simply forget to tell me once I got on board? Muller: No... Atimen: Then why didn't you inform your superior officer about a direct threat to the safety of this vessel? ::Atimen asked, taking a step back from the desk.:: Muller: I didn't think there was a threat... ::Muller whispered.:: This ship is buggy and small... if there was a saboteur on board, we'd know. I just thought engineering was trying to push blame. ::Atimen leaned forward, his hands planted on the desk.:: Atimen: That is not your job to decide, Muller. It's mine. Your job... ::Muller looked up.:: Your job is to follow orders and protocol, something that you seem incapable of doing. You show up to your shifts late, you openly nap or day-dream, you mock other officers including myself, and you're just plain incompetent! No matter how many times I yell at you, no matter how many times I tell you to get your *** in gear, you still keep it up. ::Muller stood there silent, his eyes back on the floor. Why... why was this happening to him?:: Atimen: Luckily, those traits are currently working your favor. ::Muller looked up with a glint of hope in his eye.:: Were there an actual saboteur, you'd be number one on the list of possibles. You're going to be a person of interest in the investigation into how we were infected with that virus to begin with as well. ::beat:: However, as I have no proof other than you neglecting your duties and withholding information, you aren't being arrested... Muller: Is that all, Sir? ::He hoped.:: Atimen: No, not even in the slightest. ::Atimen paused for a moment, thinking deeply.:: As it can be thought of as a simple oversight on your part, unless we can find something linking you to the virus, I doubt you'll have much to worry about coming out of this fiasco. However this does not mean that there will not be direct and immediate consequences. Muller: What kind of consequences...? Atimen: Your shore-leave privileges have been revoked. ::Muller's eyes grew wide.:: oO There we go... Oo Atimen: Oh, it gets worse. You don't get to just spend time with the skeleton crew while everyone's on leave, but instead you get to patrol the station. No socializing, no relaxing, patrolling. ::Muller mouth nearly dropped in shock. Atimen could find no better punishment. He would have to walk by as his friends and co-workers enjoy themselves, unable to join them.:: Atimen: Consider this your warning, Muller. I don't know what is happening out there, but someone wants us hurt badly. ::Pause.:: Badly enough that we may have to openly take up arms, whether in a war or not. I am going to need every single member of my staff ready, and willing, to serve. I cannot risk having you or anyone else slacking off, wasting time, or neglecting their duties, not when there are lives at stake. From the way you act, it's like you want to be discharged. Muller: I'd prefer not to leave the Tiger, Sir. Atimen: Good. Then, like I said, this is your warning. Get your act together, Petty Officer, or there will be worse consequences than just a few days of missed leave. ::Atimen turned slightly, straightening a pile of padds on his desk.:: Atimen: Dismissed. Muller: Thank you, Sir. ::Muller unfroze, spinning around and nearly sprinting out of the office. The door slid closed, Atimen collapsing into his chair. He hated that, so very, very much. He liked things to work, just like they should. People like Muller, people who don't try at all... thinking the status quo will never change; thinking they'll get by just fine with as little effort as possible, they infuriated him. He had talked to Muller before, and he had potential... but at this rate Atimen would have him transferred out before he'd finally grow up.:: ::He needed his staff badly, now more than ever. Muller may be a slacker, but he still knew the Tiger and the crew, and that made him more valuable than a fresh recruit.:: Atimen: ::Muttering:: He'll get his act together... -- Lt. Atimen CoS/CTO USS Tiger
  4. Children of Planet Mistique The birth of life is the beginning of death, what more is there to know? A miracle had been brought upon a woman and a man on planet Mistique one day. The good doctor said that he was impotent and that she could not have children. However, to both their surprise, such a happening did occur and they were happy. They spoke of always treating the child well and no harm could occur to him. Pain receptors are placed throughout the body to distinguish bad stimuli from pleasurable stimuli. However, only being exposed to one could cause warping of the mind. The child was to be named Brye. Growing up was easier for him than most due to the increased wealth of his parents. During school he always received high marks and had many friends, but some of the children said that there was something unusual about the boy. They whispered and talked. There was one who spoke more than the rest. His name was Fayru. Speaking of others can harm or hurt a person in more than one way. Regardless, sticks and stones may break bones, but words destroy the pride. Joy! Exhilaration! Upon Brye reaching high grade, speak arose of new technologies that would lead to travel beyond which has ever been seen before. With these advancements, governments began sending people to places never gone before. Before the sky was mystical and unknown, now research could be done. This left Brye to try for bigger and better things. He wanted to be the first in the new field, and so his mission began. Speed, velocity, and swiftness are all significant words for movement. But is it possible to move too fast? Years went by and then someone new came to see the civilization grow. They were the Federation, bringers of science and medical advancement. Brye yearned to become a member and in a couple of years it was so. Starting on the USS Civility, the child slowly developed into a man. Choose your fate, become who you want. Woe to those who choose incorrectly. While Brye grew in ranks, Fayru had a much harder time. One was optimistic and brave, while the other leaned towards being a pessimistic coward. A Lieutenant was born while the other remained Junior Grade. Names circulated as Fayru became Junior, the nickname he despised. Brye was the enemy now. Go faster, faster! The words are spoken clearly. Little do they know that they are unable to stop. It had finally happened, Brye was a Captain. Many rejoiced and were proud, no more so than his parents. A vessel was commissioned, the USS Last Hope. Its declaration was clear, to go and help those who needed it the most. It was said that Junior Fayru would also be assigned there, for Brye was the only officer who could stand him. Words are a great weapon when used correctly, but beware the consequences. Slowly Junior Fayru grew in ranks again. Starting off as an engineering research assistant, the day came where Lieutenant Fayru was known. Engineering mastermind many said. However, to those who knew him well, said there was something a bit off about him. It was unfortunate that Captain Brye was unaware. Pain, agony, and torture brought upon the wretched. Who will be harmed in the cracking of the fragile mind? The sadness could not be expressed in words to those affected. The USS Last Hope died in space, although the cause could not be traced. The woman and man cried themselves to sleep in loss of their son. Little did they know that a different set just shrugged it off. Fayru was a mistake and caused more trouble than he was worth. Death is required for life to come about, but is it always necessary? Walking to the graveyard, the man and woman were old now. Flowers brought and put upon every grave, except the one they wanted. The USS Last Hope remained in space. The bodies remain, but not rotting. If anyone had cared to look, they would have found something unusual. On every face of every crewman there were expressions of shock and horror, except one. By an engineering console Fayru had a mad smile on his face. It was fitting for the Flying Tomb that lay in the wasteland of space. -Fin
  5. Perfect topic for my idea, I can't wait to implement it.
  6. Just curious, but shouldn't have voting on this ended a while ago?
  7. Sorry, but I can't seem to indent the beginning of each letter in the forums. Guess you will have to read it as is.
  8. Dear Little Stanza, Greetings and wonderful music to your soul. I know as your Leading Tune, I should be helping you grow and develop. However, work continues to pile up faster than notes on a sheet. The Musical Science Institute requires that I stay and do my work here. Remember, I do this work for you and the future. Just think of the possibilities! There will be much to learn and even more to explore! Before I finish this letter, I must ask you how your studies go. You should be a fourth bar this year, correct? Have you finally found new friends? I know that Harmony moving away was a distress to you, but worry not, there are more than enough rhythms to go with a rhyme. How is your mother and father doing? My sister has always been a closed music box, but that doesn't mean that you cannot go out into the world and make a name for yourself, for you are never too young. Now to my deepest sorrow I must end this letter, my conductor is a bit off key if you understand. Don't tell your mother I said that! Awaiting your reply, Leading Tune Cantata Dear Leading Tune Cantata, I miss you! I am sorry about the long delay, but postage costs a few weeks allowance! I want to be selfish and have you here, but I cannot. I want to live up to your expectations as well as mom and dad's. I just don't understand what all of you expect of me, I am just a normal underscore on planet Chord. It will be because of your research that all of us will be able to live happier and more musical lives. Next time you send me a letter can you tell me about your research? I want to see what you are doing being as you are too far away to visit. Which reminds me, I am a fifth bar this year! I can't believe you forgot. Mom and dad are alright, just defensive of me. It isn't very much fun to be the middle underscore, weren't you one Cantata? Big etude Cymbal always beats me up and little drum Chant won't stop bugging me. I know I am supposed to love each of my ensembles, but I will bet that you didn't have it nearly as badly. How did you find out about Harmony? Did mom tell you about it? I was sad at first when she left, but I moved on I promise! I have felt depressed lately, but the sky plays the same notes as the day before and I know that I will always have you Leading Tune Cantata. I look forward to hearing your musical words again! Missing you, Not so little Stanza Dear My Forever Young Stanza, I am sorry to hear about the gloomy sonnets that seem to follow you around. Cheer up, for the world never plays the same song twice. Are you sure that you want to hear about my research? I know that you miss me but finding about my work will help you very little. Due to your insistence though, I know it wont hurt you to know just a little bit of my daily life. My Chief Octave Maestoso has me working on faster than sun sound speed. With this technology completed, everyone on planet Chord will be able to spread their music too all areas of the endless music sheet. This research may not be completed in my lifetime, but you Stanza will be able to experience it all. To my sadness there has been talks of... no, you must not worry about such things Stanza. Behest it to know that I am here and well. I will not reveal who told me about you and Harmony, but suffice it to say that as I said before, I am here to lead you in the everlasting music, even if I cannot be there physically. Now I do remember my fellow ensembles as I grew up, and no, being middle underscore is not the worst thing in the world. You may not want to admit it now, but by being nicer to your ensembles than they are to you will make you a better person in the long run. There are few things that will better teach you be a humble person than a harsh older etude. Your little drum may seem to be annoying now, but have you ever listened to his compositions? Take these lessons and keep them in your soul, for they will treat you well later in your everlasting music. I may not be able to reply to your next letter until you are a seventh bar, my young underscore. With Greatest Love and Music, Leading Tune Cantata Leading Tune Cantata, Why won't you reply Cantata? The everlasting music is even worse than before! All of my friends have abandoned me! My ensembles are worse than ever and know you say that you will not be able to reply for two Symphonies? I... I... I want to be able to talk to you, to hear your words, but I feel as if you have abandoned me. I know tears will be on this letter when it is sent, but I truly appreciate the fact that you told me about your work. It does not improve my situation but I know that you trust me, which is more than I can ask for. Why won't you tell me the whole story? You tell me that something is wrong, but you do not want to worry me? Is this the reason that I must wait more than a Symphony for you to reply? My hand is shaking, the music seems out of tune all the time now. What can I do to have you back? I will do anything, anything! Please... please respond Lading Tune Cantata. Wishing Every Day For Your Reply, Little Stanza for as long as you want Accursed Tune Cantata, I hate you. I hate everything about you. I wish that I had a better Leading Tune than you. Mom and dad are horrible to me and the ensembles will never stop. Tomorrow I will leave my home. I am going to run away from it all. Maybe the other Opera's will treat me better than here. I am moving to Jazz or Blues, I do not ever want to hear from you again and I hope you die. With Hate, Big Stanza Leading Tune Cantata, It has been a while since I sent my last message, but I cannot express my sorrow for my actions. I am now in the middle of sixth bar and I have grown to be a much more mature person. After running away, mom, dad and both of my ensembles were sad. I made them sad, and I never ever want to make them feel that way ever again. Now that I am older, can you tell me more about your work? I realize now that all I want to do is go out to everyone on the endless music sheet. I have been doing well in my studies and my teachers say that one day I could work at the Musical Science Institute! Since the incident, Cymbal has become nicer to me and it turns out that Chant says the most wonderful compositions. Everything is right in the everlasting music and I would not trade it in the world for anything, except to maybe see you once again. With Greatest Apology, A more mature Stanza My Growing Psalm Stanza, I will admit that I was hurt by your words before. For a while, I had to hold back my tears. You have learned your Rhapsody though so I forgive you. For all that you have learned, remember that you don't know everything and cannot expect me or anyone else to know all the answers. Since you do indeed worry about me, I shall tell you more about what is happening here. There has been a break in the duet in the Institute. They have been offering threats for a while, but no one could surmise that they would move to another Opera, especially that of Jazz. We do not know what knowledge has been taken with them, but Jazz may do something to our home Opera. Do not let this worry you too much, for it is just a conjecture. Sadly, my research has ended on faster than sun sound travel. All of my work has been put towards defense from Jazz. I am glad that all is well with your fellow ensembles, I knew that it would all work out in the end. My work must continue, but do promise you will continue to be a good person. Forgiving You, Leading Tune Cantata Leading Tune Cantata, I am sure you already know, but we have been evacuated from our homes. Dad has been called off to be a Requiem in the Solo army. I miss him as much as I miss you! What work could possible cause everyone in a Opera to leave? Leading Tune Cantata, please tell me more. I need to know what is happening with Jazz. I promise to be a good person, if there is nothing that would please me more, it would be to make you and dad happy. Why can't we all be together so that the music sings stronger than ever before? Hoping You Can Reply, Stanza Dear Stanza, They won't do it. I hope they won't do it. They have the Quadrille Destroyer. It will devastate planet Chord if they send it, no one will win. The music will be in pain forever. I cannot lie, but be safe! Protect yourself, protect who you can. Live to sing another day. Yesterday, I revived word about your father's finale. I am sorry, but it will be too late for me when you receive this letter. My Love is Imprinted On Your Soul, Leading Tune Cantata Leading Tune Cantata, It.. it... it... is over. I am writing this inside a mountain in the Piano mountains, or what is left of them. Mom.. mom she died. Little Chant wont stop coughing. Cymbal just sits there, unable to speak, I fear that she will die soon. I know that you will be unable to read this letter. Your premonition was too true. The Musical Science Institute was the first to be hit. I hope you are singing the loudest up there with mom, dad, and maybe all too soon my ensembles. You always spoke to me you did this all for me, but no one else would listen. It was lost under the trumpets of other Opera's that were as selfish as I once was. They were all but underscores, underscores that were too young to carry the weapons that they wielded. What is it that I inherited. Was it the pain of Planet Chord? Was it the fury of Jazz? It is a wasteland out there and I have caught the deadly cough as well. I know you want me to go out and bring hope to the few that is left, but my song is too weak. I Miss You, Stanza
  9. ((USS Severn, approaching the Eratis system)) ::The cogenitor was tired. After leaving her last ship, Greekle was a bit sad to see all of her friends go. When she was younger, it took her adoptive mother hours upon hours to calm her down. Now she was off again, her mother was transferred to the USS Tiger.:: oO There isn't anywhere to explore! Oo :: Her mother was on a different part of the vessel, most likely gathering information on where they were headed. Unfortunately, this left a 9 year old child in the middle of a vessel that to it, wasn't very interesting. She began swinging her legs back and forth on the seat, soon interest was lost. All that was around her was a Vulcan, seemingly lost in thought. Greekle frowned.:: oO The last Vulcan I tried to play with kicked me out of her lab! Oo ::Learning from her lesson last time, Greekle tried to avoid bothering the Vulcan. However, it was quite the temptation to ask all sorts of questions. Luckily, before believing she was going to explode, the Vulcan turned to her and began talking.:: Salak: I trust you had an agreeable journey from Starbase 118, Mr Greekle? ::The cogenitor giggled, technically it was neither a Missus or Mister. What it did find funny is that it was referred to as mature person, by a Vulcan to boot!:: Greekle: It was quite boring actually. There isn't many games to play. Ohh, ::Her eyes lighting up.:: do you know where the tah..tah... Tigger ::mispronounced:: is? ::The child temporarily distracted by something outside the window. However, its attention returned when the Vulcan began speaking.:: Salak: The Tiger is currently docked at Deep Space 17; that is where we shall meet it. Greekle: Deep Space Seventeen? oO There are seventeen Deep Spaces? Oo Salak: Yes; first person plural. Lieutenant Commander Salak; Second Officer. Agreeable to make your aquaintance. Greekle: Oh, you are an officer like my mommy! ::The cogenitor quickly remembered its manners that its mother taught him so well.:: Greekle: I am Greekle, Mister Salak. Nice to meet you! Salak: Indeed. ::The cogenitor was pleased, not only was this Vulcan friendly, but he also didn't kick him out of his seat.:: Greekle: So... how long do you think it will take to get to Deep Space? Salak: Estimated time of arrival is in seven minutes, forty-one point eight six three one seconds. ::The cogenitor sighed, to it the time seemed like an eternity.:: Greekle: Thats no fun. I think that if I have to stay here for much longer I will die from boredom. Salak: We won't be staying here for much longer... ::The cogenitor's eyes quickly lit up.:: Greekle: I have an idea, how about we play a game! Salak: A... A game? I fail to see the logic. ::The cogenitor looked at the Vulcan in the eyes and smiled.:: Greekle: Why silly, there is no logic in fun. Salak: I am a Vulcan... I do not have "fun". oO Oh no, I judged him wrong. This pointy ears is just as cranky as the last one. Oo Greekle: If you say so... ::Greekle sat back as the pointy eared one made a call.:: Salak: One moment please... =/\= Deep Space 17, this is the runabout U.S.S. Severn, registry NCC Seven Two Niner Two One, requesting landing clearance. =/\= ::Although cautioned by his mother to never ever eavesdrop, Greekle couldn't help but listen in.:: McLoughlin: =/\= We cannae allow that right now Severn... Station's under quarantine. =/\= oO Quarantine? That means there is a sickness going around! Oo Salak: =/\= Understood. Moving to holding orbit. =/\= ::to Greekle:: Seems we have time for your... game after all. What do you propose? Greekle: Sprouts! Salak: I fail to see what small green vegetables have to do with anything? ::The cogenitor smiled, it didn't look like pointy ears recognized the game.:: Greekle: Its easy to play, let me show you. Salak: Agreeable... ::Going into his "Homepack," a backpack of random items that he carries around, Greekle pulled out a sheet of electronic paper. Pulling out the tray in front of them, he laid out the paper and began drawing a star with approximately thirty dots.:: Greekle: This is how it works, you draw a line connecting two points then draw a dot on the line you just drew. Greekle: Winner is the one who can't draw a line anymore. Simple enough? Salak: Deceptively so... ::The little cogenitor smiled, although the game was simple. Winning it was quite the opposite. Each move had to be thought out before moving to the next. A winner was usually seen with seven or eight turns remaining.:: ::Greekle grabbed a coin with a tribble on one side and a Klingon head on the other from his Hompack.:: Greekle: ::Preparing to flip the coin.:: Heads or Tribble to go first? Salak: ::unfamiliar with coins:: Heads or Tribble? ::Greekle looked at the confused Vulcan, trying his hardest not to laugh.:: Greekle: See, when I throw the coin in the air, It will land either Heads or Tribble. If you guess right, you get to go first! Salak: I am not aware of a Tribble on this craft... ::This time the pressure was too much. The cogenitor giggled.:: Greekle: No no, Silly Salak, its what is on the coin! ::Greekle handed him the coin, showing both sides.:: Salak: I... see... Greekle: ::After getting the coin back.:: So, think you understand everything now? ::Before the Vulcan had a chance to respond, Greekle's stomach began to rumble.:: Salak: A drink before we begin? Greekle: ::Blushing.:: Yes... I should have something I guess. Salak: Any preferences? Greekle: Don't worry, I have something here. ::The Vissian began rummaging through its homepack. Many things including, vials, dolls, and electronic parts fell to the floor. After a few minutes, the cogenitor made a gasp of victory. Putting everything back into it's homepack, Greekle sat back down with what looked to be two juice boxes and some antipasto.:: Salak: Your "something", I assume? Greekle: Mommy always packs something for me when we leave. I have a ::Trying to mimic its mother.:: "notoriously loud stomach." Salak: Indeed... ::Greekle quickly remembered that his mother always told him to share as well.:: Greekle: ::Offering a juice box and some antipasto.:: Do you want some? Salak: I am agreeable... ::remembering his own manners:: Thanks. ::The cogenitor stopped drinking its juice when the Vulcan spoke again.:: Salak: Kal-toh... oO A toe? Oo ::Greekle remembered her old friend Calso. He was a little older than him and tended to get injured easily. Just before leaving her last ship, Cal tripped on one of Greekle's pranks. His bottom still hurt from the spanking his mother gave him after that incident.:: Greekle: ::Stuttering because he thought the Vulcan had found out about the incident.:: W.w.what about Cal's toe? Salak: Are you familiar with the puzzle Kal-toh? oO A puzzle? Oo ::The cogenitor's eyes lit up understanding that Mister Salak was talking about a game.:: Greekle: I love puzzles! ::The cogenitor hadn't expected to play a game that was unfamiliar to it. However, it was either play this Vulcan's game or be bored for the next eternity!.:: Greekle: Well, I have never played this before. Can you explain to me the rules? Salak: We look for the seeds of order, in the chaotic pile of t'an. T'an are the playing rods. ::The Cogenitor silently listened to the rules, its attention rapt.:: Greekle: And how do you find out who wins? Salak: The discord morphs into order. ::Something seemed awfully familiar about this game to Greekle.:: oO Sounds like... Oo Greekle: One sec... Salak: Of course. ::The young vissian quickly began sorting through its homepack again, pulling out a completed Kal-toh.:: Greekle: Do you use a Pookie Ball ::Indicating the Kal-toh.:: for this? Salak: That would be a completed Kal-toh. Greekle: That's what it is called?! Salak: Affirmative. Greekle: I found it in a junk shop all broken, so I fixed it, but then it broke again... Salak: Quite probable. ::The Vissian was glad that it at least knew what the game board looked like at least now.:: Greekle: Well, since I have the board, you can go first! Salak: If you think that logical... ::The game began, and the child was surprised about how much fun it was having. Time dwindled on as the Kal-toh slowly took shape. After a while, the cogenitor gasped. The game was over!:: ::The little cogenitor had won the game. However, it didn't really care about winning, playing the game was reward enough.:: Greekle: Wow, Mister Salak, you are good! Salak: Not good enough, it would seem? Greekle: It was fun! ::The cogenitor began to prepare for another game when Salak's commbadge went off again. Again against his better judgement, Greekle listened in.:: Thelev: =/\= DS17 to USS Severn. =/\= Salak: =/\= Severn here. Agreeable to hear you again Commander Thelev =/\= Thelev: =/\= Good to have you back with us, Commander. Good trip? =/\= Salak: =/\= It has been... unusual. =/\= Thelev: =/\= It sounds like you've got a herd of Grox in there with you. =/\= ::Greekle laughed, a herd of Grox wouldn't fit in here!:: Salak: =/\= I have a nine year old civilian as a passenger. We are... playing games. =/\= Thelev: ::smiling at the thought of the Vulcan coping with an impatient child:: =/\= Oh? I'd imagine that's a barrel of fun. Anyway, the quarrantine isn't officially over yet but we've developed a cure so I'm clearing the Severn to dock on deck 327 - just steer clear of the first promenade for now. Unless, of course, you're happy to stay out there for a while longer? =/\= Salak: ::Almost before Thelev had finished:: =/\= We shall be docking at earliest convenience. =/\= oO Aww, Mr. Vulcan doesn't want to play with me anymore. Oo Thelev: =/\= As you wish, Commander. DS17 out. =/\= Salak: Greekle, can you watch... ::pointing at a part of the console in front of the child:: ...that control there, and tell me if it flashes? oO Is he trying to get rid of me? Oo ::Nodding his head, the cogenitor obeyed and began examining the console.:: Greekle: I can do that. ::Stepping over to the console, he began looking at the lights. After less then a few minutes, the child lost concentration and began looking outside and saw Deep Space 17.:: oO Its so huge! Oo ::Remembering its assignment, Greekle looked back and saw the red light flashing.:: Greekle: Its flashing Mr. Salak! Salak: Cutting thrusters... ::Looking outside the window, Greekle saw that they were docked inside of the space station.:: Greekle: We are here! Salak: A logical deduction. Closing window shutters. Ready to disembark? Greekle Civilian USS Tiger
  10. Fugitives, The Screenplay NARRATOR The year is 2370, on the war-torn planet of Thresha. CAPTAIN and ENSIGN enter Stage NARRATOR All that remains on the side of the governing federation are these two, a captain and an ensign. The rest of the crew had been lost. CITY DRUNK Enters Scene. NARRATOR Why who is this? Is she going to take the lives of these poor soldiers? Maybe give them shelter? CITY DRUNK (A bit wobbly and slurred) What yessay? CAPTAIN (Sadly) The Federation is no more, I have lost my ship and all that is left of my crew is… The CAPTAIN points to the ENSIGN. Ensign (Woefully) Aye, tis just me a helmsman. Will you take pity on us? CITY DRUNK laughs loudly. CITY DRUNK (Having a hard time keeping her words together) And why is the Federation no more? NARRATOR (In explanation) Why, the governments all over the myriads of planets rebelled of course! CITY DRUNK (A little confused in her drunken state) You sure? NARRATOR (Getting a little agitated) Don’t you believe me? CITY DRUNK (Skeptical and almost falling over) Why should I believe you? The NARRATOR is on the side of the stage hitting his hand against his face. NARRATOR (Cleary agitated at this point and yelling) Because I...! The NARRATOR is interrupted by the ENSIGN. ENSIGN (Nervously) Umm There is a short pause as everyone looks towards ENSIGN. ENSIGN (Even more nervous at this point) Can we get back to the script? The NARRATOR is clearly agitated but inclined to agree. NARRATOR (Taking a deep breath) Yes, let us continue. However this young lady should… The CITY DRUNK begins to laugh again CITY DRUNK (Slightly more lucid than before) Fine, Fine, I will play along. The NARRATOR does a silent but clearly visible cheer. CITY DRUNK (With a sly look) However, I must ask. How much will I be getting paid to be an actor? The NARRATOR’s smile immediately drops. NARRATOR (A bit abashed) Well the normal acting cut of course. CITY DRUNK (With a bit of a confused look) And that will be how much, Mr. Narrator? The NARRATOR gulps and begins sweating profusely. NARRATOR (Stammering) Well, there are fees of sorts. CITY DRUNK (Shouting) What?! What kind of fees? NARRATOR (Continuing to stammer) Well, there is the actor’s fee for the guild. The stage fee. The salary fee. The CITY DRUNK walks up to the NARRATOR. Every step that he takes, the NARRATOR takes one back. Soon the NARRATOR is backed up into a wall. NARRATOR (Fearful for his life) Please don’t kill me! The CITY DRUNK began to pull her fist into the air with the NARRATOR falling to the floor in a fetal position. Just before the hit, the CITY DRUNK laughs. CITY DRUNK (Jovially) Just kidding, you know that there is no such thing as currency in this time and age. The NARRATOR blinks and pretends to laugh as well. NARRATOR (Wary of the drunk still) Of course sir, you had me going. The CITY DRUNK backs off and stands back to his original position. CITY DRUNK (Still in a jovial mood) Let’s get back to the show then? The NARRATOR stands up as well, brushing himself off. NARRATOR (Getting back to his original mood) Ah yes, let’s do that. (Clearing his throat) Ummhmm (Takes a deep breath and continues) Now the two officers of the former Federation are stuck without shelter or hope. Will you ma’am, help them? CITY DRUNK (Pretending to be serious, but obviously failing) Why of course! They can most surely come to my… The CITY DRUNK looks towards the NARRATOR with a confused face. The NARRATOR nods reassuringly. CITY DRUNK (Trying to think of the right word) My hovel… The CAPTAIN steps forward and begins to speak. CAPTAIN (Humbly) Your kindness will not be forgotten, Sir. The CITY DRUNK begins laughing loudly again, unable to contain herself. CITY DRUNK (Releasing a giggle every few words) Why I have never been called a sir in my life! Even back on the days on the farm… The NARRATOR, seeing that the CITY DRUNK was about to go off on a tangent, begins clearing his throat loudly. The CITY DRUNK notices it and tries to get back on topic. CITY DRUNK (Apologetically) Sorry, sorry. This always happens at this time of night (Trying to get back into character) But yes, if you will follow me to my umm hovel. ENSIGN steps forward to the CITY DRUNK. ENSIGN (A bit forward) That is all great and everything, Sir. However, how will we dodge the dissenters? The CITY DRUNK’s eyes became large. CITY DRUNK (Surprised) Helmsman say what? ENSIGN (Making sure to speak clearly) Why the dissenters of course! The rebels who destroyed our ship. They will certainly be on the lookout for the captain and me. If we manage to get back to Federation’s headquarters, very much could be accomplished. CITY DRUNK (Trying to absorb the information) Where are these dissenters? ENSIGN (Grimly) They could be anywhere, hiding in the bars, the research facilities, or even the streets. That is why we ask your help! There could be one watching us right now. ENSIGN pleads with his eyes to the CITY DRUNK. CITY DRUNK (Starting to believe the whole play is real) Oh my! What do these wicked people look like? ENSIGN puts his head downcast and speaks. ENSIGN (In an eerie voice) Some say they look just like us. Others will say that their face’s are just a little too hairy. However, the most frightening of all is their wings… CITY DRUNK waves her arms around motioning ENSIGN to stop. CITY DRUNK (In disbelief) You want me to believe that there are some natives to our planet that have wings and are hairy?! ENSIGN stands still for a moment and looks to the sky as if to remember something. CITY DRUNK taps her foot on the ground as she waits. ENSIGN wakes up from his trance and looks embarrassed. ENSIGN (Ashamed) Sorry, that was a line from the classical OZ I will be performing in next week. CITY DRUNK places her hand on her head, as if trying to get rid of a headache. CITY DRUNK (Still curious) Then what do they really look like? ENSIGN (As if answering a toddler) Oh that’s simple. They look like the native’s obviously. CITY DRUNK begins to say something, but stops herself thinking that it just is not worth it. CITY DRUNK (Changing the subject) If they look just like us, how do you suggest we avoid them? ENSIGN begins to answer, but CAPTAIN steps in to answer the question. CAPTAIN (Knowingly) That is also simple. It merely lies in a change of clothing. Currently we are dressed in typical Starfleet attire. If we were to get some clothing indigenous to this planet, we would be nondescript as well as hidden in plain view. CITY DRUNK scratches her chin CITY DRUNK I see, but where would we be getting this clothing? CAPTAIN (Laughing) Why, you will be providing us with it! CITY DRUNK (Surprised) But I don’t have any of that type of clothing that would fit both of you. NARRATOR steps onto the stage and begins whispering into CITY DRUNK’s ears. CITY DRUNK (Listening) Uh huh… Wait? What prop room? CITY DRUNK detaches herself away from NARRATOR and looks both ways on the stage, only seeing alleys on both sides. CITY DRUNK (Thinking that the narrator is unreasonable) How the NARRATOR (Quickly and loudly) Bleep! CITY DRUNK (Continuing where she left off) Am I supposed to get props from a nonexistent room? CITY DRUNK realizes the reason for the bleep. CITY DRUNK (Disturbed) Why was I censored? This is a free country! NARRATOR enters the stage again, although far away from CITY DRUNK. NARRATOR (Trying to explain) You see, this is a family play. I cannot stand an adult rating. (With a wry look as well) Also, this country is no longer free since it was taken over by the dissenters as the ensign said. CITY DRUNK rolls her eyes. CITY DRUNK (Sarcastically) Must all of you always be in character? Both CAPTAIN and ENSIGN answer the question at the same time. CAPTAIN & ENSIGN (Trying to stay in character) What is all of us? CAPTAIN silences ENSIGN and continues. CAPTAIN (Skeptically) Clearly there is just me and my ensign here, unless you know a dissenter that is watching us? CAPTAIN pulls a phaser out of his pocket. Seeing that the phaser looks quite authentic, CITY DRUNK waves her arms trying to get CAPTAIN to calm down. CITY DRUNK (Speaking hastily) Yes, I just meant you two! (To herself) Whatever you say, just do not blast me. CAPTAIN’s ears perk up as if he thought he heard something. CAPTAIN (Interrogating the drunk) What was that you said at the end? CITY DRUNK began to get on her knees. CITY DRUNK (Beseechingly) Nothing, nothing! CAPTAIN puts the phaser away, but still keeps his eyes on CITY DRUNK CAPTAIN (With a questioning look) You wouldn’t betray us would you? CITY DRUNK (With a gulp) But didn’t I say I would help you? Seemingly from nowhere, the NARRATOR begins speaking. NARRATOR What is this? The young woman will betray the captain and ensign? What caused this change of heart? Is it greed? Is it jealously? Is it even… There is a pause, everyone is intently listening NARRATOR (Slightly louder than a whisper) Love? CITY DRUNK is stunned for a few minutes before realizing what was said. CITY DRUNK (Angrily) Wait a NARRATOR (Quickly) Bleep Bleep! CITY DRUNK Darn minute! I don’t need any man to complete my life. The fourth wall is again broken as the NARRATOR enters the scene. NARRATOR (Sweetly) But what of love? Someone to hold, someone to talk to… NARRATOR is interrupted by CITY DRUNK CITY DRUNK (Incredulously) Hah, no man wants love. As for someone to talk to, they just want to look down at you. Little to no talking involved. NARRATOR’s eyes gleam. NARRATOR (With a sarcastically sad voice) Was there someone in your life that you once loved but now lost? Is that the reason why you can’t… Dramatic pause that lasts a few moments too long. NARRATOR Love? CITY DRUNK puts her hands over her eyes, but then starts laughing. CITY DRUNK (Pleased with herself) I am just jerking your chain, I am a happily married woman. NARRATOR sighs since he had been tricked and goes back out of sight. NARRATOR (Forlornly) That would have made such a wonderful addition to the script. CAPTAIN gets tired of waiting and before NARRATOR has a chance to speak again, cuts him off. CAPTAIN (Impatiently) So where are our clothes? CITY DRUNK (Snidely) I already told you! I can’t get clothing from a prop room that doesn’t exist. Immediately the CITY DRUNK regrets saying the last sentence. CAPTAIN and ENSIGN reply together again. CAPTAIN & ENSIGN What prop room? The CAPTAIN steps forward to again interrogate CITY DRUNK. CAPTAIN (Suspiciously) Prop room? Ma’am is this a game to you? We appreciate your help, but if you don’t take us seriously we may have to end you to protect our own lives. CAPTAIN begins to place his hand on the phaser when CITY DRUNK tries again to placate him. CITY DRUNK No no, what I meant to say is.. There is a pause as CITY DRUNK tries to figure out what to say. CITY DRUNK Is that, I have some clothing inside of there CITY DRUNK points towards the bar. CAPTAIN (Impatiently) Well? What are you waiting for? Go ahead. Before CITY DRUNK has a chance to enter, CAPTAIN speaks again. CAPTAIN (Warning her) But remember, betray us and I can guarantee the consequences. CITY DRUNK stared at CAPTAIN in fear. CITY DRUNK (Nervously) You wouldn’t… CAPTAIN (With a fierce smile) Yes, yes I would… CITY DRUNK (Hysterically) You would tell my husband I was here?! CAPTAIN is taken aback. CAPTAIN (Regaining composure) No, I would stun you. CITY DRUNK (Relieved) Oh? That’s all? CAPTAIN (Nodding his head) Yes, as a member of the former federation I do not believe in senseless killing. CITY DRUNK tries to edge away from the phaser-happy CAPTAIN. CITY DRUNK (Sheepishly) Well, I will get those clothes then… CAPTAIN (Greatfully) We greatly appreciate this Ma’am. CAPTAIN No problem. CITY DRUNK hastily leaves the scene into the bar. ENSIGN steps up to talk to CAPTAIN. ENSIGN (Regretfully) Think we were too harsh, Sir? CAPTAIN (Taken aback) Of course not, there is a certain way to handle people and this is the way to do it, especially when one’s life is in danger. ENSIGN (Stepping down) If you say so… CAPTAIN and ENSIGN wait outside, pacing. ENSIGN Think she abandoned us? CAPTAIN I am inclined to say perhaps. ENSIGN (Quizzically) Perhaps? CAPTAIN It was a long shot in the beginning helmsman, for now I predict we are now on our own. ENSIGN Were we not on our own before? CAPTAIN Yes, yes, we are alone again. ENSIGN Then what should we do? There is a brief pause as the CAPTAIN surmises the situation. CAPTAIN (With a burst of energy) We must find a tactical place to defend. ENSIGN Where would that be? The CAPTAIN looks around and then has a revelation. CAPTAIN We should hide behind this bin here, awaiting the attacker. ENSIGN That is all well and good, but where do I stand? CAPTAIN (Without blinking) You will stand right there. CAPTAIN points toward the middle of the area. ENSIGN (Incredulous) But that is in plain view, Sir! CAPTAIN Exactly! They will never think to look for you in plain view. ENSIGN But sir… ENSIGN and CAPTAIN are interrupted when the door’s to the pub reopens. ENSIGN (Frightened) They have caught us! ENSIGN pulls out his phaser and fires, hitting TOWN DRUNK. TOWN DRUNK immediately falls to the ground, dead. ENSIGN (With wide eyes) I am a murderer! NARRATOR steps back into scene. NARRATOR Who put in functional props? This can’t be happening! Everything stands still as there is a loud sound from the sky. There is a flash of bright blue light that descends upon the whole area, vaporizing everything in sight. --- There are twp crewmen on the bridge of the USS Dragnar. The first officer, a Lieutenant, steps up the front of the bridge, approaching the Commander in the front. “Sir, I have taken care of them.” The Commander nodded, avoiding the gaze of the other officer. “Good, how did you manage?” The Lieutenant smiled, pleased with what he had accomplished. “I slipped some narcotics into their food, they never saw it coming.” The Commander stepped down and sat on the captain’s chair. “You know, those three were overambitious.” “Oh, sir?” the Lieutenant replied. The Commander put his hands together and replied. “They tried to stop what wonderful work we had started on that planet, we couldn’t have let them finish.” Sighing, the Commander closed his eyes before continuing. “What did you say their favorite activity to do was again?” The Lieutenant was surprised by the question, but answered it anyway. “They were all interested in the art of plays, Sir. The captain especially. Sometimes he would go and pretend to direct the plays, mouthing the words he would have said at the performances.” The Commander opened his eyes and looked back at the Lieutenant, with a quizzical look on his face. “Think the narcotics would have been affected by that?” The ship was passing over a dark area of space when the Lieutenant replied to his superior. “We will never know.” End
  11. Beware the Quiet One Run the ring, see the sign. We all fall up, but not in time. The end is today. Yesterday has already begun. The child listened in on the parent’s conversation next door. It was the same conversation over and over. Not being able to communicate telepathically. The kid grabbed a toy and hugged it tight. Not that it was any fault of the child, but even the children blame themselves. Faster and slower we go. I cannot see what is right before. Foresight in the future is clear. Yesterday has already begun. A year went by, time went on. A boy walked up to the same child and asked. “Why are you ignoring me?” The child didn’t know what to do. It tried to explain that it couldn’t hear what was broadcast, but to no avail. A target was made. Others make the weak feel weaker. Yet, that day the child learned what true weakness was. Time is slow. Worlds destroyed too fast. The bitter wench laughs. Yesterday has already begun. Not quite a year gone by when things go wrong once again. Being bullied at school made the one child harden the heart that was its own. Punches were thrown, but tears no longer flowed. It had had enough I suppose. It took the punches, and all that was given is a cold icy stare. The others didn’t know what to do. What was made so heartless and bold could be no fault of theirs. Could it? The giggle arises. So twisted and mean. Perfect the tune. Yesterday has already begun. Sitting alone on the swing, the child hums a tune that was deep in its heart. So perfect, so true, yet so completely wrong. Another one comes, yet this time not in fury. She sits on a swing next to the humming one. She begins to hum along. Little by little the humming increases. Soon it becomes an orchestra sound. The girl tries to keep up, but realizes she can’t. Going to take a breath and stop humming she thought. Little did she know, she was trapped in the music of the other child’s soul. Little by little individuality went away. The child had taken control of the little girl, much to its surprise. But surprise did it show? Nay, plans began entering the child. The grip was released from the other girl and she fell off of her swing. Off to a hospital she was shipped, although never to speak again. The sound before the storm. The cries and shouting of the quiet room. So sweet is the bitter fruit. Yesterday has already begun. The child was unseen, unnoticed, and as evil as the demons in hell. Quietly it passed the day gone by and by. Little did anyone think that something so useless as a non-telepathic child could have any more than half of a brain. A long time ago the child had learned to accept the people as it saw them. They were mean. They were cruel. They would never see more than a retarded child. Oh the plans it had. There was going to be pain, enough to be shared. The targets would know what was going to happen to them before it occurred. Oh it yearned to see those faces right then and there! But it was smarter than that. Time was of the essence, and there was more to come. Ring of the red spot. Fire of the ice. What is soon not to come. Yesterday has already begun. The daily routine for everyone else had remained unchanged. Get food for the family, have a good social life. What more was needed than those things combined? Little by little when the children came home from classes, their eyes were slowly changing color. Their attitude remained the same, as well as routine. Nothing could be possibly wrong in this town. It seemed almost happier and glad. Little did they know that the creature was in its room. Toys of old, covered in dust. The dolls beheaded, the others in worse repair. Staring at a wall it laughed. So easy it is. The wounds of metal. The pain of the sunlight. I see all that happens. Yesterday has already begun. Arguments no longer came from the abode to the side of the creature’s room. Deathly silent it lain. The blood relation’s had left to visit others. Did they forget to bring along something? No, they were unaware of children they might have had. Things were coming to past. A chill went through the house. The creature absorbed it in delight. Soon all that was or will be will come to pass. A lie is not evil. A good deed is too much to ask. Time is merely a blink. Yesterday has already begun. The children throughout town soon all had deep orange eyes. Their behavior did not change much. In fact it had not changed at all. The routine was the same, except for one peculiar habit. They would call for their parent’s right before bed and sing a song. What a magnificent song it was. The parent’s were entranced by it, and thus they did not notice their eyes change colors also. The end is an end. The beginning is an end. A blink is eternal. Yesterday has already begun. The town was under attack. Fire was everywhere, rain falling so hard that the plains were flooded. The monster laughed in its room. Its plan was complete. The town had gone insane. They would not survive much longer. Mothers were attacking animals thinking they were demons. Fathers were avoiding trees, believing them alive. The children just sat, watching the horrors in their mind, unable to move a single tendon. And so the monster jumped out of the window, onto the porch below. Believing its life to be complete. A girl wakes up in a hospital. Soon after losing her voice, the mind went also. She sits up and winks. Yesterday has already begun.
  12. Can I assume that the title does not add to the word count? I am kind of at a thousand words.. >.>
  13. Beware the Quiet One Run the ring, see the sign. We all fall up, but not in time. The end is today. Yesterday has already begun. The child listened in on the parent’s conversation next door. It was the same conversation over and over. Not being able to communicate telepathically. The kid grabbed a toy and hugged it tight. Not that it was any fault of the child, but even the children blame themselves. Faster and slower we go. I cannot see what is right before. Foresight in the future is clear. Yesterday has already begun. A year went by, time went on. A boy walked up to the same child and asked. “Why are you ignoring me?” The child didn’t know what to do. It tried to explain that it couldn’t hear what was broadcast, but to no avail. A target was made. Others make the weak feel weaker. Yet, that day the child learned what true weakness was. Time is slow. Worlds destroyed too fast. The bitter wench laughs. Yesterday has already begun. Not quite a year gone by when things go wrong once again. Being bullied at school made the one child harden the heart that was its own. Punches were thrown, but tears no longer flowed. It had had enough I suppose. It took the punches, and all that was given is a cold icy stare. The others didn’t know what to do. What was made so heartless and bold could be no fault of theirs. Could it? The giggle arises. So twisted and mean. Perfect the tune. Yesterday has already begun. Sitting alone on the swing, the child hums a tune that was deep in its heart. So perfect, so true, yet so completely wrong. Another one comes, yet this time not in fury. She sits on a swing next to the humming one. She begins to hum along. Little by little the humming increases. Soon it becomes an orchestra sound. The girl tries to keep up, but realizes she can’t. Going to take a breath and stop humming she thought. Little did she know, she was trapped in the music of the other child’s soul. Little by little individuality went away. The child had taken control of the little girl, much to its surprise. But surprise did it show? Nay, plans began entering the child. The grip was released from the other girl and she fell off of her swing. Off to a hospital she was shipped, although never to speak again. The sound before the storm. The cries and shouting of the quiet room. So sweet is the bitter fruit. Yesterday has already begun. The child was unseen, unnoticed, and as evil as the demons in hell. Quietly it passed the day gone by and by. Little did anyone think that something so useless as a non-telepathic child could have any more than half of a brain. A long time ago the child had learned to accept the people as it saw them. They were mean. They were cruel. They would never see more than a retarded child. Oh the plans it had. There was going to be pain, enough to be shared. The targets would know what was going to happen to them before occurred. Oh how it yearned to see those faces right then and there! But it was smarter than that. Time was of the essence, and there was more to come. Ring of the red spot. Fire of the ice. What is soon not to come. Yesterday has already begun. The daily routine for everyone else had remained unchanged. Get food for the family, have a good social life. What more was needed than those things combined? Little by little when the children came home from classes, their eyes were slowly changing color. Their attitude remained the same, as well as routine. Nothing could be possibly wrong in this town. It seemed almost happier and glad. Little did they know that the creature was in its room. Toys of old, covered in dust. The dolls beheaded, the others in worse repair. Staring at a wall it laughed. So easy it is. The wounds of metal. The pain of the sunlight. I see all that happens. Yesterday has already begun. Arguments no longer came from the abode to the side of the creature’s room. Deathly silent it lain. The blood relation’s had left to visit others. Did they forget to bring along something? No, they were unaware of children they might have had. Things were coming to past. A chill went through the house. The creature absorbed it in delight. Soon all that was or will be will come to pass. A lie is not evil. A good deed is too much to ask. Time is merely a blink. Yesterday has already begun. The children throughout town soon all had deep orange eyes. Their behavior did not change much. In fact it had not changed at all. The routine was the same, except for one peculiar habit. They would call for their parent’s right before bed and sing a song. What a magnificent song it was. The parent’s were entranced by it, and thus they did not notice their eyes change colors also. The end is an end. The beginning is an end. A blink is eternal. Yesterday has already begun. The town was under attack. Fire was everywhere, rain falling so hard that the plains were flooded. The monster laughed in its room. Its plan was complete. The town had gone insane. They would not survive much longer. Mothers were attacking animals thinking they were demons. Fathers were avoiding trees, believing them alive. The children just sat, watching the horrors in their mind, unable to move a single tendon. And so the monster jumped out of the window, onto the porch below. Believing its life to be complete. A girl wakes up in a hospital. Soon after losing her voice, the mind went also. She sits up and winks. Yesterday has already begun.
  14. Thank you, I owe you one. The Consequence of Happiness We all know how there are ups and downs in life, sometimes the downs seem too low to crawl out of. But what would happen if there were no downs, no sadness, just a feeling of joy, all the time? During that time in my life, I was depressed. My wife had just died and all my children had left me. I was wondering what to do with myself. I had no job because the one I did have I got fired from, following the tragedy. Why did she have to die? Why was I destined to live here without spouse or companion? I needed to get away from it all; I needed to get my mind off of what had happened. It was then I decided to go to that marketplace. It was there were I ruined my life. It was there where I lost all everything, even the will to do anything at all. I had just arrived at the market when I heard shouting. “Feeling down? Hoping to get some kind of moral boost? Well here it is! A drug that does wonders. No more feeling depressed, no more negative thoughts at all! Just one pill and you can feel the difference!” Now I wish I had never heard those words. Thinking to myself, “What is the worst that can happen? They don’t work? Then I will just be back at square one.” I couldn’t have been more wrong. I decided to go and order that wonder drug, not thinking of the possible consequences. The next day the drug came in. I examined it, it looked so harmless and benevolent. I would never have guessed that this pill would bring such evil. After looking at the pill, I took one. To my surprise, I was suddenly feeling happy. I was ecstatic and I had no idea why. There was no time before in my life that I have ever felt this happy. The feeling lasted the entire day and I went to sleep, feeling content and at ease, which hasn’t happened since that dreadful day. That next day I woke up feeling terrible. All I could focus on was death and sorrow, sadness was eating away at me. I just had to get to that pill, I needed that feeling again, and I needed to be happy. Soon I found the pill box and took another one. It didn’t work. My mind was going crazy, I soon took another pill and I was in eternal bliss....until the next day. The third day was probably my point of no return. As soon as I woke up, I quickly took 3 pills just to make sure that I wouldn't feel any sadness or grief. I went to the store and saw one of my old fellow workers. We started talking, although he seemed nervous. After much talking I finally coaxed out what he was so nervous about, he had been promoted to my old position. After hearing this, there was no help for me. I ran home and took 2 more pills and I was again happy. I never read the warning label on the box. I wish I had now. It had said, "More than 4 pills a day can lead to addiction, psychosis, and dependency." I eventually did read that label the next day, but I didn't care, the pill to me was not harmful. To me it was a lifesaver, something that kept me full of joy and away from the darkness. I never realised it would lead me to what I was avoiding. Every day I took one more pill than I did the day before. I was soon paying for a pillbox a day, which soon became 2 and 3 boxes. I needed that feeling; I needed to never feel sad ever again, I couldn't handle the bad things in life. My appearance changed, I stopped shaving, stopped eating as much, and lost every friend I knew. I was a monster, changed by the pill. I couldn’t stop, I lost all control. My body was no longer mine! I sold my house, I started taking out loans to pay for drugs. After a year I ran out of money, I was addicted to the happy drug. I turned to a life of crime; petty thievery is how I continued to pay. One day a man at the store refused to let me buy another box of the pills. Unable to control myself, I killed him. I raided the store and took as many pillboxes as I could carry. Running out of the store, loud horns were heard behind me. I was soon caught and arrested, and put into jail. The first day was OK; my mind did not yet know that I could no longer make it feel happy. The second day I was in excruciating pain, I wasn't sure if I would be able to survive. On the third day I didn't wake up, my mind was shot, too far into addiction; I went into a coma, where I tell my story to myself. Day after day after day…… THE END
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