Jump to content

Alora DeVeau

Captains Council observer
  • Posts

    1,187
  • Joined

  • Last visited

  • Days Won

    56

Everything posted by Alora DeVeau

  1. Tatash, I need you to come clean and organise my house! Please! I'm desperate!
  2. Okay this made me laugh. But the flower? Alora's gonna have a far different reaction........
  3. This is probably only amusing to those who were a part of a plot on the Thor, but it made me chuckle. Aton's player performed as a drunken retired lawyer during an inquiry of Commodore Aron Kells.
  4. OOC: I really enjoyed this insight into one of our newer members. Good job @Kammus Corelli! (USS Nashira, Main Engineering, Deck 6) Kammus stood in the chief engineers’ office, as music https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AOoe8K1yj50 played, and filled the air with a somber reminder of the mission. 27 PADDs were stacked in different piles on the desk, and Kammus watched the damage control teams, system engineers, and repair personnel work diligently on the problems caused by pushing the Nashira beyond all limits. Finn popped his head in, leaning more than walking, as if to signify he was busy, but wanted a quick word. Finn: What is that noise…? Corelli: Es Ist Vollbracht. It is finished. Bach. Finn: I’m more of an Orion Thrash Punk kind of guy. Corelli: Something I can help you with? Finn: Just to report, console repairs have been completed, Paket is having issues with some of the plasma conduits on deck 2. We’ll get it soon enough. Corelli: Copy, carry on. After a time of thinking, he moved to the turbolift, and traveled down to Deck 8 surveying the repair of the antimatter containment systems. From a nearby window, he saw Starbase 375 grow ever larger, as the ship dropped out of warp, and align for docking. Jadin Wills approached; she had been placed in charge of the final antimatter systems adjustments. Wills: All under control here, sir. Secondary antimatter containment pod will need replaced, scheduled for 4 days maintenance. We’ll be on dock power so it’s a good thing we’ve got shore leave coming up! Right? We do have leave? Corelli: Yes, you have leave. I will remain on board. Wills: You’re not taking leave? Surely you want to get off this oversized shuttle? Corelli: (Raising eyebrows) Let us not speak ill of our assignments. Wills: Sorry sir, I’ll get back to work. Kammus returned to his quarters just as the ship docked with the station. The room lights dimmed as internal power was switched to external support and the docking gangway tunnels extended. He unzipped his uniform top, took a deep breath, and relaxed for a moment. Presently his desk display chimed and he ran over, pushed the button, only to see Aiya’s face, bright and cheerful. Corelli: You're not dirty? Did you skip work? Aiya: Hey, Parrises Squares, 10 minutes, we entered a tournament! Corelli: We you, or we me? Aiya: You can come watch and cheer me on! Corelli: Cheer? Kammus contorted his body, raising one hand above his head, and placing the other on his hips, mocking. Aiya: I hate you. You don’t have any other friends! What are you gonna do? Sulk by the warp core? Corelli: The warp core doesn’t try to take my clothes off just because I’m Deltan every moment of the day. Aiya: Oh… (beat), probably best if you don’t go into a room full of a hundred strangers. Corelli: Might turn into another type of tournament! ::They both laugh:: I will be fine, plenty of work here to do, and someone has to supervise the repairs. Aiya: You’re not the chief engineer. Corelli: They don’t have a chief engineer! Aiya: Fine. BYEeeeee! The channel closed, and Kammus was once again left alone with his thoughts. He mashed the button on the display. //Personal Log, Stardate 239809.2 The Nashira performed well. We pushed these systems well beyond their specified design limit. I will have to re-write some of them. The crew is an interesting group, I will have to be less technical around some of them, which is a shame. We have put in at Starbase 375 for repairs, and since the ship currently has no chief engineer, I have elected to remain on board and supervise, in whatever capacity I can. I am certain Starfleet Command will assign a more senior engineer to oversee the repair work. I dread venturing onto the station, all those people, they can’t help but be affected by my biology, which I cannot turn off. Perhaps it would be better to be an android… I hope the crew enjoy their leave. I for one await reassignment, as this ship, while I enjoy it very much, will likely not be a permanent home. I wonder if an ensign can request to have NCO’s assigned… I sure would like to have Aiya with me, whatever the next adventure is. //end log He returned to the window and awaited the arrival of refit teams from the station. _____________________________________________ Ensign Kammus Corelli Engineering Officer USS Nashira Writer ID: T239807KC3
  5. Oh my goodness, this is literally me and what I tell people I'm trying to do when trying to process stuff. 😄
  6. OOC: Same scene as Sucky Situation, different perspective, and just as amusing! IC: ((Main Engineering – Pirate Ship Drowning Band)) Secretary Valeria had never been in a real life threatening emergency before. She had only been in things that seemed life threatening or were merely made-up emergencies. And in general she was cool under fire – but she had a black sense of humor and that was her main coping mechanism when things got extremely crazy. Like right now. Lurtz: Defend with what, dear? We have no weapons, and even if we did, if they are shrunk to scale they may as well be toys. She huffed a bit, but didn’t argue. Drevas: Perhaps the best option is to find somewhere we can hide in or to simply keep moving. I think we should all first try and slow down and get our bearings- Valeria: Slow down or calm down? Did she mean that as a dare? A dig? Maaaaybe. Lurtz: Don’t you -dare- tell me to calm down, this is the second time I have had an event going to absolute pot on that forsaken station. Who do you think you are, with your tongue in cheek mannerisms, to address me like some second rate hotel guest. A snap of my fingers and I can bring down entire economies.. I well… I… She stopped, and her face paled and Valeria’s smug expression of defiance turned to one of concerned panic and action as she dashed forward to ease the matriarch back to safe ground. Drevas: ::stepping forward:: Your Highness? Is everything alright? Valeria: She’s so pale… and so warm. Linn Valeria was not a doctor. She knew the very basics of first aid to keep a scene safe before doctors could arrive. Lurtz: I… I need to sit. I feel very lightheaded… my chest… Drevas helped move Empress Lurtz back to the wall where she slowly slid downwards. Drevas: Over here, Empress. ::gently taking her by the hand and leading her to the wall:: Here, sit and rest. Is there any other way we can help you? She tried to respond, but her eyes rolled back in her head. Linn pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at the sweat on Lurtz’s brow. Valeria: She fainted. She just dead fainted. Oh no, not dead. Please don’t be dead. Linn wanted to take that back, just in case it actually happened. At least two sets of footsteps distracted her from her self-admonishment as she looked up, expectantly. Maybe the Major and the Ensign could help? Andrews: So what's our plan now? We can't just wait for whatever's next to find us. Drevas: No, we can’t. We need to keep moving. The Empress needs a moment to rest, though. ::glancing back at the room around then, arms folded:: Ishreth Dal was also not a doctor, but as a search and rescue specialist he was a trained first responder, and was well practiced in basic field and combat medicine. He moved immediately to Empress Lurtz side, checking her vitals and loosening her clothing in several key constriction areas. Now he wished he had a medkit. And they had no idea where Doctor Bailey or Doctor Foster were. But he could lessen airway and chest constriction, get her comfortable and keep her warm. Dal: Either I need a medkit, she needs a doctor or both. Where are we perched? He was so busy tending the injured he hadn’t take the time to inspect the new locale. Andrews: We're above their warp core, right? Can't we use that somehow? What if we got down there and did some sabotage? If we could take their warp capability offline, that would be a big help to anyone coming after us, wouldn't it? Drevas: It would be, yes. Maybe if we got enough people standing on shoulders we could reach and operate the console, what do you think? Dal: I think a person-chain would be very dangerous. We’d be better off forming some sort of rope. He hated to admit it, but he silently wondered how many centimeters of rope would Empress Lurtz’s voluminous skirts make? And how bad would things have to get that she would allow that without tanning his hide. Andrews: ::grimacing:: I freely admit I have no kind of experience with this sort of thing. Maybe somebody in our party ::he indicated the civilians:: has some know-how we could use? Drevas: Maybe. Perhaps there’s a- His antennae spun wildly, his head snapping to one side as he searched for the sudden low buzz that filled the air. Dal: Something’s coming… And then there was a shriek as a large hovering metallic device bumbled into view and sucked up one of the partygoers. It made a horrifying schlooorp sound as the person was just sucked into the nozzle and held in a large spherical chamber. Clearly still alive, pounding on the chamber walls and panicking. It turned and sucked up a second civilian as the rest screamed and ran back towards the tunnels. Emblazoned on its side in large gaudy capital letters and Ferengi script was the brand sticker advert: “SUX-U-LUX 5000, THE BEST AUTOMATED SWEEPER PAST ANTARES!” Andrews: Oh, come *on*. Ishreth Dal had fought many battles in his lifetime, but this was clearly the first time he had faced off against an oversized Roomba. Drevas: Complain later! Help me move the Empress – we need to go. Now. Back to the tunnels. It can’t fit in there, can it? Everyone else, back to the tunnel! Now! Ishreth pushed Valeria out ahead Dal: Valeria, get everyone inside. ::He showed Drevas and Andrews how to safely carry Lurtz:: Take her, I’ll bring up the rear. Andrews: ? Herding panicked civilians was no easy task. Two more were schlorped up before the group was pushed, practically jammed into the tunnel Drevas: Who’s still with us? Valeria: It’s your lucky day, I’m still here. We have a head count of fifteen now, down five. The Sux-U-Lux kept mindlessly schloping and sweeping, heedless of the screaming passengers it had inside its belly. Andrews: ? Dal: In one piece. ::A pause, pointing to the drone.:: Its’ on an automated loop, it will come back. Drevas: ::panting:: Now what? Everyone alright? Valeria: That completely depends on your definition of alright. Andrews: ? He poked his head out, tracking the drone and then gasping. Dal: We have help. ::he jabbed a finger forward towards Commander McLaren and Lieutenant Zel.:: Look over there. Andrews/Drevas: ? Dal: That’s the trick, they’ll never hear us above the racket of the sweeper. How do we get their attention? Andrews/Drevas: ? Dal: We can all work together to get the engines on this ship crippled and then hopefully get Empress Lurtz the medical attention she needs. Too bad their micro-surgeon was currently a mini-micro surgeon. Hopefully the ship had brought someone who was good at medicine on such a small scale. Andrews/Drevas: ? ~*~ tags/tbc ~*~ Commander Ishreth Dal Marine Liaison Officer StarBase 118 Ops
  7. OOC: We're in the middle of a mission where some of the crew and some civilians have been shrunk to about 8cm in height (around 3 inches). Currently, one group is stuck in a shaft near the warp core and there's a vacuum coming after them (pirates kidnapped them and are trying to get them back after they escaped). Here's the situation from one point of view that I just really enjoyed. IC: ((Pirate Ship Drowning Band)) Matthel felt sick to his stomach. Yet another two of their team were gone, one in foolish bravery and one to rescue that one person. Not that he was one to give up easily, mind, but the thought of never seeing them again made him queasy. Thank the Prophets for the empress’ snooty voice, which cut through the momentary haze that clouded his mind: Lurtz: Where is the Andorian man? Drevas: He… went after Isaiah. Er, ensign Andrews, your Highness. Valeria: Oh no, your tasty blue snack of a Commander went back to save your very heroic Mr. Andrews who ran off to save the bravest Gorn of them all. Hopefully at least two of the three will return to us soon? Uh huh. She clearly wasn’t happy about that. Yay for the best answer he could provide – what was he expecting? Agreement? A sympathetic nod and lamentation as to how they might never see them again? Also not that he doubted the empress’ capacity for sympathy or empathy, but still. What was he expecting, eh? Stop it, he told himself. You’re not here to judge her on what she thinks about the situation. You have something bigger to take care of right now. Drevas: They are resourceful people. They’ll find a way. He raised an eyebrow at the fact that somehow or other, despite their circumstances, the archaeologist that’d followed them found it in herself to grin. Not the kind of grin meant to comfort, mind, but an expression of amusement. Yes, somehow or other she found this entire debacle and the impending sense of danger that constantly pressed down on them like a barbell really very amusing. Prophets, why, he asked himself. Why had it been him that was thrust into this situation? Valeria: Please, we’re eight centimeters tall, watching a disco warp drive. What isn’t funny about that? Lurtz: Your lack of professionalism is neither endearing nor wanted. Wow. Okay, then. He turned away for a brief moment, hiding a snicker of amusement. Drevas: With all due respect – I think we should plan our next move here. Valeria: probably finding a safe defensible space is priority number one. So we can regroup and have the actually combat trained people rescues any kidnapped other people? Lurtz: Defend with what, dear? We have no weapons, and even if we did, if they are shrunk to scale they may as well be toys. Drevas: Perhaps the best option is to find somewhere we can hide in or to simply keep moving. I think we should all first try and slow down and get our bearings- Valeria: ? Lurtz: Don’t you -dare- tell me to calm down, this is the second time I have had an event going to absolute pot on that forsaken station. Who do you think you are, with your tongue in cheek mannerisms, to address me like some second rate hotel guest. A snap of my fingers and I can bring down entire economies.. I well… I… Something changed in her demeanor then; a grimace of something which he could’ve sworn was pain. Oh, goodness. Was she having a heart attack? Or could it be another medical issue? Drevas: ::stepping forward:: Your Highness? Is everything alright? Valeria: ? Lurtz: I… I need to sit. I feel very lightheaded… my chest… Good thing they were on a ledge, raised off the floor, in an empty room save the warp core – and the wall itself wasn’t so far away. Drevas: Over here, Empress. ::gently taking her by the hand and leading her to the wall:: Here, sit and rest. Is there any other way we can help you? Valeria: ? Lurtz: ? Footsteps. Footsteps, sounding from inside the passage from which they’d emerged. Had the commander and Isaiah survived? He turned his head, praying to the Prophets for their safe return – but it seemed that they’d pulled the thought of the prayer from his head and answered it already. The two emerged from the tunnel, alive and seemingly quite well. Now that was a relief. He might’ve grinned, leapt a half foot into the air and embraced his friend had their situation not been quite so serious, along with thanking the Prophets of course. He settled for a wave back at Andrews while they convened – at least, for now. Andrews: So what's our plan now? We can't just wait for whatever's next to find us. Drevas: No, we can’t. We need to keep moving. The Empress needs a moment to rest, though. ::glancing back at the room around then, arms folded:: Dal: ? Andrews: We're above their warp core, right? Can't we use that somehow? What if we got down there and did some sabotage? If we could take their warp capability offline, that would be a big help to anyone coming after us, wouldn't it? Drevas: It would be, yes. Maybe if we got enough people standing on shoulders we could reach and operate the console, what do you think? Dal: ? Andrews: ::grimacing:: I freely admit I have no kind of experience with this sort of thing. Maybe somebody in our party ::he indicated the civilians:: has some know-how we could use? Drevas: Maybe. Perhaps there’s a- Dal: ? There was suddenly a shriek -- probably Empress Lurtz -- and the shouting of several voices that prompted the officers to turn quickly. The sight was horrifying. A giant (to them) floating drone that took up nearly the entire shaft with its chassis had (somehow) silently floated up and -- right as they watched -- was sucking up civilians one-by-one, like they were delectable candies. The panicked civilians were running in the direction of the officers, with the drone following behind, vacuuming them as they went, individuals vanishing into an extended tube shaft with a *ssssshhhhhhooooop!* every time another was taken. Prophets know how and why the pirates had somehow preempted their escape and procured this weird device solely for the purpose of recapturing and recontaining them, but they didn’t have time to dwell on that. Andrews: Oh, come *on*. Drevas: Complain later! Help me move the Empress – we need to go. Now. Back to the tunnels. It can’t fit in there, can it? Everyone else, back to the tunnel! Now! Dal/Andrews/Valeria/Lurtz: ? Well, he hoped that it wasn’t, at least. With the assistance of his fellow security officer he lifted the Empress by the arms, apologizing profusely in the process, and began to walk-jog-kinda-sorta-run her back the way they’d came. Thank the civilians for being fast enough, too; they began to run, albeit several degrees more panicky-ly. Hold on, that wasn’t even a word… He would’ve prayed to the Prophets to once again shield them from danger and grant them safe passage through the blah blah blah make it out alive blah. Too bad the sucking noise began to grow louder and louder behind them, interspersed with the swiftly cut off screams and further sickening ‘shhhhooop!’ noises of those taken disrupted that. All he could do was keep moving and moving.. Drevas: Who’s still with us? Dal/Andrews/Valeria/Lurtz: ? The more significant members of the party, it seemed. So far so good – but they weren’t safe, far from it. One of the civilians latched the opening shut as soon as they disappeared through, leaving the drone to hover outside with its sucking mechanism vibrating the floor and walls round them with a deafening ‘vwooooop’. Drevas: ::panting:: Now what? Everyone alright? Dal/Andrews/Valeria/Lurtz: ? Ensign Drevas Matthel Security Officer Starbase 118 - USS Narendra O239706DM0
  8. @Tatash, this was so beautiful I was crying. Or...laughing so hard I was crying...:-D ((Smeagle the Pirates Quarters -- Effie's Section)) Effie: I don't think he should get anything after what he did. It was a fair point at least. He wasn’t remorseful about it either, despite being in those pudgy and strangely sticky fingers. He was not trained to be a child carer, and all this situation was doing was intensifying his hatred of the snot nosed little runts. Blackwell: - yes. Does your ship have a replicator? Effie: Yeah, we do. But I'm not supposed to touch it. Tatash: But.. Hnggh.. ::he struggled in that grip:: all the most… fun things are naughty. Blackwell:::she sympathized:: Weelllllllll…. I can understand it...but if you like.., ::She said gently:: I can help you with the measurements, that way we know the clothes will fit perfectly. Yael: ::loudly again, playing along so Effie would hear him:: You know, I *could* use a new suit. This jacket’s gotten dirty. Traitors. The pair of them, absolute traitors. Bad children needed scolding, not coddling and placating. He thought back to when he was a child, his backside suddenly stinging with a phantom pain. Proper discipline. Effie: I don't know...my dad is really really strict about not going places on the ship without asking. Tatash: I’m sure… he won’t mind… Blackwell: I do actually do some sewing, and knitting, and art things...so...I should be able to help ::And she glanced to Yael and Tatash to play along:: Even balancing at this precarious angle, Tatash could fix Blackwell with a look that was the equivalent of a verbal sigh. Fine. If that’s what it would take. Yael: If you could get us access to the replicator, we could help you make a completely new collection. ::calling up to their captured crewmate in an insistently friendly tone:: And Tatash PROMISES he won’t burn the new ones! DON’T you, Tatash? All he could elicit was an annoyed grumble from somewhere in his throat. Tatash: Oh… absolutely…. Can’t wait. Effie: You'd better not do that ever again. Blackwell: I’m sure we can avoid that happening again. Yael: ::still loudly for Effie to hear:: He's a good guy! He's just *grumpy* because he's not had any lunch! Let's get him something to snack on, okay? The first thing he was going to do when he was back to normal size was tan this young girls hide. The second would be tanning Yaels to match. Tatash: Oh yes… so grumpy… If his teeth could grit anymore, they would shatter into tiny little Gorn shards. Grumpy was an understatement, utterly incredulous about how he was having to act to amuse a pirates satanic off spawn was more about right. Blackwell: And then we can talk about outfits..::she offered:: Effie: No. No. No. We can't go play with the replicator. I'll get in trouble and they'll take you all away from me. But don't worry, I know where we can get new clothes! But first… Tatash was carried away, still clutched in that mitt, faced with an angry little sausage waggling at him again clutching some sort of tape. Effie: You were *bad*, Mr. Lizard, so I have to make sure you behave this time. Oh no. He couldn’t do anything to resist as that tape started to wrap around him, even when full size that sort of tape was used for holding wires together and had a strength that held most old starships together. There wasn’t even any point in trying to struggle. Blackwell: Wait, Effie, what are you doing? ::She called:: Tatash: Not.. so tight… Effie Yael: ? By the time he was plopped back down in the lunchbox all he could do was wiggle a little like a sausage on a frying pan, his yellow eyes glowering with a firey rage. Effie: There! If you're feeling grumpy, Mr. Lizard, you can eat something. You're supposed to eat anyhow. Now! I have something that will help us so we can still play! Tatash couldn’t see what was coming next, but he could at least still hear the others. Blackwell: What do you have there Effie? Yael: ? Effie: My daddy brought this back for me! Let me show you how it works! A new toy? He grunted as he was lifted up again, wiggling his feet slightly in a vague attempt to resist. Blackwell: Effie, what does this do exactly? Tatash: What the hell is happening... Yael: ? Effie: It won't hurt at all! Just hold still, okay? He was lowered again into some machine, spindly arms spinning wildly around him with a mechanical hum as something was… wrapped around him, threads, tiny threads weaving and creating until he felt the gentle, soft fabric pressed against his neck. What was it, what was it that had happened. He tried to move his neck down and look, but the tape made it impossible. Blackwell: Effie! That’s wonderful. ::She was not talking about the Dress, staring at the device:: Tatash: What? What’s wonderful? What’s she done to me? Yael: ? Perhaps it was better that he was placed back into the lunchbox, considering the words that were on the tip of his tongue that were certainly not suitable for a young audience. Effie: It worked! It worked! Yay! ::She looked at the woman and the purple man.:: Who wants to go next? Blackwell: Well, Yael’s outfit is so dirty. Could you maybe try it on him and let me watch? Yael: ? Blackwell: Oh I just love how interesting that toy is. I didn’t have one like it when I was a child. Yael: ? While the others continued he did what he could, leaning his head down to nip at the corner of the tape near his neck, pulling at it with his teeth experimentally before gagging as he got a mouth full of foul tasting adhesive. Blackwell: I did have a dollhouse, but and dolls with clothes, but nothing like this. ::She smiled:: When did your father get this for you? Again he tugged at it, forcing himself to tear a little, then a little more. It was enough to loosen up his right shoulder, enough to start to shimmy it off just enough to work on getting that arm free. Yael/Effie: ? Blackwell: Well, Yael does look good in Purple. Finally, he managed to pull, yank, twist his right arm free leaving him able to work on the other. His scales, thankfully non porous, at least giving him a slight advantage in freeing himself up from that tape even if most of it still clung to him. He looked down over himself, pushing his arms through the holes, only now suddenly realising exactly what he was wearing. A dress. A pretty dress. Fine. That, he could deal with, but blue on green was a decidedly disgusting colour choice. That offended him far more. Tatash: Oh wow I bet it could make us… all kinds of accessories too! Maybe a matching handbag or heels for me, that would be swell! Please don’t make those items, he thought to himself. But if it can make that sort of thing, it could theoretically make far more with the right buttons pressed. Yael/Effie ? Blackwell: That is perfect Again he was grabbed and pulled out, making a point of keeping his arms by his side hopefully unnoticed. He stood as proudly as a veteran Gorn could, while wearing a stunning blue gown. Blackwell/Yael/Effie: ? Tatash: Yes, I know I’m pretty. Hey Effie, you know what would be fun? You should give him a makeover! Oh wow I bet you have all sorts of grown up makeup. He pointed a finger to Yael. A cruel, damning claw, condemning him to a face full of lipstick and terrible foundation. That’ll teach you to laugh at my dress. He looked at the other too as Effie wandered off to no doubt find the instruments of torture. Tatash: What’s the plan? Blackwell/Yael: ? Tatash nodded, lifting up the hem of his dress with both hands to take a few steps closer. He didn’t want to risk fraying the edge of course. He might fall over. Tatash: Alright. I’m not going to do anything to harm the girl, even if she’s absolutely awful. That means we need to distract her when we make our get away. What you thinking of using that dress-o-matic thing for? Blackwell/Yael: ? Tatash: Back when we were in the cargo bay, there was a pet, some sort of Lizard running around causing havoc with the guests. Bet if we could lure that here somehow, Effie would have to deal with it. Maybe its hers, maybe it’s someone elses but kids love small animals. Blackwell/Yael: ? --- Major Tatash Military Intelligence Starbase 118 Ops C239108T10
  9. OOC: @Geoffrey Teller must be loosing it. He's naming plasma eddies. 😄 ((Bridge, Deck 1, USS Thor - Two Hours and Nine Minutes Later)) Hunching forward in the Captain's seat Geoff Teller's eye was twitching again. He'd been staring at the viewscreen for so long now he'd practically named every random band of colorful energy currently encircling the ship as he tried to tease detail from the images the vastly more sophisticated and accurate sensors somehow missed. Harold, a large shimmering column of plasma and radiation, was currently gyrating just slightly off the port bow and Fernando, that small pink rascal, was drifting diagonally across his field of view. At several points Geoff had been reasonably convinced they were mocking him, intentionally shielding the Nashira from their view in a form of subspace pettiness known only to an unfortunate few. With a hand that was vibrating slightly from either too little or too much caffeine, Geoff Teller tapped at the controls and resumed recording an overdue ships log. //Ships Log, Supplemental, Stardate 239808.19, Cmdr. Geoffrey Teller reporting. ...The Thor has been effectively navigating the storms edge for the last several hours and while the ride has by no means been comfortable, our shields have held strong and we are in position to spring our little trap on the Nashira. As this exercise was intended to evaluate crew performance in non-ideal conditions, I must take a moment to offer commendations for Lt. Jg. Reid and Lt. Jg. Richards, both of whom have performed their duties with the professionalism and creativity of officers with far more experience. I'm also quickly coming to respect the abilities of our new Engineering officer Ensign Rocheford. While I'm certain the next few hours will be a test for ship and crew I'm extremely confident in both. I'm certain we'll honor the Thor's proud legacy. And I'm going to get that damn lawn dart if it's the last thing I god da....wait is this still transcribing.... //End Log The ship jolted slightly as another plasma front shifted and grazed their shields. Teller shook his head in mock frustration at Gertrude, who was being pushy yet again. A few minor warning indicators appeared on the status display to his left and Geoff decided to break the heavy silence. Teller: Status report? How're the shields holding up, Lt. Richards? Richards: Response Geoff smiled and turned in his chair. Teller: Excellent, let me know if it becomes a problem. Lt. Reid, how's the storm? Dissipating along your projected curve? Richards/Reid: Response Both officers had been largely unknown to him prior to this last mission and now Geoff was confident they were both capable and reliable colleagues, more than fit for the task at hand. It renewed his confidence in their plan of action and their hopes for success. Teller: Understood, update the helm if you think we need to move to a new position but keep an eye on those sensors. The minute we can get a peak outside the storm I want to know. Reid: Response Teller: Very well. Ensign Rocheford, what's the status of the EPS grid and the impulse engines? If we detect the Nashira has taken the bait I want to move in as quickly as possible. Rocheford: Response Teller: That's correct. Our hope is that the Nashira mistakes our disguised fighter for the weapons platform they've been trying to make off with. If they grab the fighter in a tractor beam that'll be our signal to pop out and hit them with everything we've got. If they're disabled they can't make it out of the system, and we win. Rocheford: Responses Geoff found himself regarding the young engineer with something like sentimental fondness. He'd been in that young mans position once, tossed into a dynamic situation and forced to push himself far beyond what he thought was capable. He hoped Mr. Rocheford enjoyed the experience as much. Teller: Don't worry Mr. Rocheford, the weapon hits are simulated but the computer will make the damage 'seem' real, down to the overloading eps conduits and the disabled systems. With any luck we'll get their engines in our opening salvo and it'll be over in the first few seconds. Rocheford: Response Geoff smiled and turned his attention back to the viewscreen. Several of his new friends, like Lloyd, Fredrick and Harriet, were beginning to dissipate visibly and Teller could swear he saw faint snatches of clear space beyond. Their moment was rapidly approaching. Teller: Lt. Reid, is that what I think it is? Rocheford/Richards/Reid: Response Tags/TBC! =============================== Commander Geoffrey Teller Executive Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 Commodore A. Kells, Commanding V239509GT0
  10. This just cracks me up every time I read it. Commander Dal is pretty yummy though!
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Terms of Use.