Alora DeVeau

Too bad Alora isn't with him, she'd sing along!

From the @Vaysha Lennai's post. It's @ArthurStrathmore. He probably fell into it a dozen times.

Just put a hat and sunglasses on him.

Welcome, we're glad to have you all!

Now we all need to hear this story! It's mandatory!

Congratulations! Welcome to the craziness!

OOC: I particularly enjoyed the 'explanation'. 😄 IC: (( Astra Aura, Downtown, Denali Station )) Harford: I suppose this is where we change? Into what exactly, Sir? And then we step back out into the hallway? Or will they come and retrieve us? oO Prophets, never let it be said I am not social with the Junior Officers. Oo She stood in front of the furthest door as Trej disappeared down the hallway. Harford: I'm sorry, Sir. That was a lot of questions. I'm a very protocol driven person. Oddas: Honestly, that's refreshing among the crew - but for this, try to relax. There's a robe in the room, change into whatever makes you comfortable, the staff is aiming to cater to you, not to ask you to make you uncomfortable. They'll come get you, wherever you are. Harford: Yes, Sir. Thank you. I'll uh, see you in a moment then. Aria entered into her own room, a small wooden room that she knew would be tied to her own biometrics, anything she left would remain, the door would lock to anyone but her - including the staff that would not think about violating the staff. She removed her uniform, folded it up, stretching her arm in the process. She was looking forward to the day. The thick white robe felt good as she slipped it on, until she pulled the arm on, causing her to wince. She let out a deep sigh. There was a soft knock on the door, evidently it was time to go. Aria pulled her robe tight and opened the door to Trej's smiling face and Harford just beyond. Trej: Right this way, Doctors. She would never admit it, but there were times she liked being addressed by her academic title. She followed the man down the small hallway, the one she knew Ke’ToQ would be administered. Inside it was a small, a few meters on several sides, with three low benches on all sides of a tank approximately 1 meter tall - currently covered by a thick silver cloth. Aria knew it was to keep the fish calm. On the open side of the tank, hanging from the wall, was a view screen and a small ceremonial tank of blood wine. A tall Vulcanoid woman entered - Aria had never decided if they were Vulcan, Romulan, or some combination. She gestured for them to sit on the benches. T'Pri: Thank you for joining, we will start with a quick animation for our new comers, it is necessary for your safety. Aria smiled and sat on one of the side benches - she could hear the swimming and lapping of the Ke'ToQ fish in the tank in front of them. Harford: Response T'Pri nodded and the animation began, the screen springing to life showing a stylized and animated, cartoonish version of the tank currently in front of them. Narrator: Thank you for coming to our traditional Ke'ToQ ceremony. It is with great pleasure we welcome you and invite you to an ancient tradition practiced by Klingon Warriors since the time of Kahless to improve their performance in battle, and it made them look pretty snazzy too. On the screen two cartoon Klingons appeared - one male and one female, smiling, sticking their legs into the tank, grimacing, followed by some bubbling, and then pulled out smooth legs. They smiled wide, exaggerated, cartoonish smiles, drew their knives, and ran off into battle. It was quite the different explanation then when Aria first got the explanation of how this ritual began, much more, polished and sanitized. She glanced to the Ensign. Harford: Response Narrator: Of course, it is not for the faint of heart, the Ke'ToQ fish is a scary looking fish ... A very real picture of the fish appeared on the screen, gross, scaly, and with teeth that did not fit in its mouth. Its fins were more like hard bones, and its eyes were small and beady, and it looked like something out a nightmare. The measurements on the screen showed them to be around 75mm nose to tail. Aria chuckled. Oddas: At least they show you a real picture of that. Narrator: The Ke'ToQ have a curious predilection, and love to rub up against the skin of anything you place in with the tank, pulling and removing all the little loose bits that you don't want anyway. The screen changed again, this time showing an underwater view, for legs underwater, with a dozen of the fish - an all cartoon version this time including fish, water, and legs, not moving at first, then slowly, noticing the legs, and touching, bumping the legs, each other, and gradually picking up speed, As they did, they began to pick hit the legs with more frequency and velocity, over and over, as they did their scales, bone fins, and the edges of their teeth, and their bodies were pulling bits of skin from the legs, then slurping it down. The animation made it clear their mouths were too big to actually bit anything directly, but Aria knew from experience it would feel as if they were trying to eat your legs to the bone. Narrator: After just two standard minutes, they have done their job, but don't be as heroic as the two in our video - seven standard minutes is the maximum, and the time required for the celebratory blood wine. On the video, the two Klingons were back, this time running a hand over their obviously smooth legs and toasting each other with bloodwine. Narrator: Remember, while it can be painful, you can pull your legs out at any time, and our staff is available to assist. Plenty of our patrons get enrichment, enjoyment, and benefit from 1 minute, 3 minutes, or less of the treatment. There is no shame in deciding this is not for you, and of course, Astra Aura assumes no risk or responsibility if you begin the ceremony. The animation ended, and the screen went dark, and Aria noted two more attendants had entered the room - an Orion woman and a man of the same species as Krel, dark blue skin and large eyes. They positioned themselves behind the Aria and the Ensign, she knew in case someone panicked they could be pulled out in a moment's notice. Trej: Doctors, ready? Harford: Response Oddas: Ready She moved forward and gripped the edges of the bench as Trej pulled the cover off the tank - the clear water showing a much more densely populated tank than the animation implied. At this moment, she always felt a moment of trepidation. oO Irina, Cada, Jazmine, Katya, Brayden, Toni, Rahman, Alea, T'Sara, Teevin, T'Lea, Stelek Oo She lowered her legs into the tank, one after the other, pulling the robe back to keep it out of the water. She bit her lower lip as the first fish began rubbing up against her leg. Harford: Response

Come on, @Wil Ukinix, don't you know any better? You should lean forward, not back!

I SAW THAT

((Kettick's Apartment,Level 35, Anchorage, Denali Station)) On the 35th level of Anchorage tower, in the heart of an ever-ticking clockwork maze the likes of which MC Escher and Rube Goldberg might have dreamed together during a steampunk convention, sat a large standard-issue Engineering PADD. The metallic components of the machinery that surrounded it echoed with alien sounds, and here and there, a complicated piece made of Remmilian crystal cast an eerie glint in its muted blue light. In front of the screen, watching with rapt attention, sat the friendly neighbourhood insectoid Chief of Engineering. One might say that he sat comfortably, never mind that his "seat" looked like it should stick out of a particularly fancy theremin. Then again, the only one who was around to judge his tastes in furniture was Major Quack, and the slightly glowing rubber duck hekd his peace for now. Kettick had another, smaller PADD next to him, and from time to time plucked a stylus from a nearby flat surface to scribble on it in a brief bout of quiet frenzy, with his head cocked to the side and a thoughtful cast to his facial appendages. The recent mission had highlighted a weakness of his that he had left unadressed for too long. It had been fraught with peril, predatory giant monsters, death-defying jumps, exposure to unknown technologies, and other such things that happen every other Tuesday when you wear the Starfleet uniform. And when faced with near-constant stress and the specter of their possible demise, his primate colleagues had reacted in their usual manner. Banter. And among it, sarcasm. Now, Kettick was not completely alien to sarcasm. He had served under humans that were close to breathing it - at the very least, they used a significant part of their breath in that pursuit. Through constant exposure, he had learned to spot some patterns, some idioms that allowed him to understand that some words were said in jest, and that his interlocutor occasionnally meant the polar opposite of what they said. But the last days had tested his proficiency in the fine arts of sarcasm and irony (and yes, apparently, these were two different things), and he had been found... sorely lacking. A failure he could not afford now that he was supposed to lead; back when he was a menial drone, he only had to understand his task, and do it to the satisfaction of his betters. Now, if he were to serve, he had to understand *people*. Fortunately, he had been told by friendly humans in the enlisted contingent of some remedial courses that he could use to better himself, and he had thrown himself into the task with his usual zeal. The situations presented were of course exxagerated, but the course material was easy to understand, and he had a feeling that he was starting to understand the finesses of situational and interpresonal interactions. In fact, he was impatient to try some of the lines he had noted down as particularly impactful. He had no doubt that they would work in a professional context, since according to the title of the data folder, they were meant to be used in the Office. END/No tags -- Lieutenant Kettick Chief of Engineering Denali Station G239107LR0 Your Engineering department kindly reminds you that you are supposed to read the flakking manual.

Attending her first awards banquet after the birth of her daughter in an elaborate, floor-length gown by renowned Betazed designer, Delara Vonn, this ethereal, floral motif was inspired by Alora's love for African Violets.

I really enjoyed the interaction between these two characters. IC: (( Skunkworks, Administrative Area, Denali Station)) It didn't fit. oO Fracking, k'ossting, .... Oo In front of her was the Norton's carburetor, in about 15 pieces. She had asked Crastrid's staff to send her what amounted to a genuine rebuild kit, rare, hard to find, and as it turns out, incomplete. Some of the synthetic parts hard deteriorated over time and the computer was balking at replicating new ones. Oddas: ::muttering, sofly:: Build the most sophisticated Starship in the Fleet, ::this 400-year-old thing eludes you::. She tossed the wrench - which she had to specially replicate - to the side, letting it clatter loudly to the ground. There was another Starfleeter doing some work who looked up, but was polite enough to ignore her and go back to his work. Aria stood, stretching and popping her back. Stelek: Did the machine do something wrong? Oddas: Other than existing? Stelek: ::dryly:: Other than existing. Aria glared at the Vulcan, who had the audacity to stand and look back impassively. Oddas: Having fun? Stelek: I assure you that is not the case. ::beat:: What is the real problem? Oddas: Maybe I've decided I just don't like this thing anymore. She gestured toward the motorcycle and instantly regretted it - it had been Irina's, and one of the things her family had insisted Aria keep after she passed. Aria leaned on the table and thanked the Prophet's Stelek's logic wouldn't force her to come and hug her. Oddas: I didn't mean it. ::beat:: I snapped at an Ensign, the Counselor. Stelek: Did they deserve it? She turned and leaned her back against the table, focusing on the other woman instead of the machine. Oddas: Could they? If they did, I doubt they should have gotten it from me. Aria thought she saw Stelek tilt her head slightly, the Vulcan shrug. Stelek: It's been my experience that the higher up the correction comes from, the less likely it is to need to be repeated. The Commodore let out a deep sigh and then a low growl. Oddas: This is why I hate the social aspects of my job. Stelek: You hide it remarkably well. Stelek raised an eyebrow and looked around the room; Aria smirked at the obvious sarcasm. After a moment, she realized there were footsteps approaching. Any: Response TAG, TBC ((OOC: Anyone who wants to join in, please feel free. )) Commodore Oddas Aria Commanding Officer Denali Station E239305OA0

Welcome! We're glad to have you with us!

((Jerrado Bistro, Deep Space 14)) Aine hadn't had a chance to get away from the ship since they'd arrived at New Bajor. There were new responsibilities and new officers. When Mel asked her what she wanted him to make for dinner she requested a night out, dealers choice...she was tired of making choices. He had selected a restaurant on Deep Space 14 that he'd heard some rumblings about. Supposedly a Terran/Bajoran fusion mix. Something familiar but just a bit different. As they scanned the menu together, Mel could tell that Aine was feeling stressed about something. And that she probably didn't want to talk about it. But he also knew that she needed to. She'd always been a little more on the reserved side, and that was rarely healthy. After placing their order they sat quietly. The dimly lit room was punctuated at the table by the small holo projector that displayed the menus but was now emitting a soft amber glow. Martinson: You want to talk about it? Martinson/Sherlock: No He grinned after he mockingly answered at the same moment she did. She returned the grin adding in a shake of her head at his ridiculousness. Sherlock: We're working through this personnel issue. And it's become a disaster. Martinson: How so? Conflict of interest? Sherlock: You could say that. There's some ::beat:: personal issues possibly. Martinson: As the Vulcans would say ::beat:: intriguing. Aine silently laughed for a second. She remembered a couple Vulcan friends she'd had and how they would say exactly that. Everything to them was either "fascinating" or "intriguing." It was as if Vulcans and Terrans had only just met after all this time. Sherlock: Michele voiced her disapproval. And I mean really voiced it. Martinson: And where do you sit? Sherlock: Her concerns are valid. The way Aine had said it, very officially, Mel could tell there was a "but" coming. Sherlock: But, I feel the way she went about it was wrong. Martinson: Emotions can be telling, in more ways than one. Sherlock: Right, exactly. On one hand, I feel she's letting her emotions guide her. On the other, she could be having those emotions because she's right. Aine sat back and crossed her arms while Mel gave her a second to reflect on what she was thinking. Sherlock: I just ::long pause:: never thought she'd act like that. Martinson: Why? You've acted out before. Sherlock: When!? Martinson: Deep Space Two-Two-Four. He raised his eyebrows at her. Sherlock: You deserved that. Martinson: I'm not saying I didn't. I'm just saying, that sometimes, emotions prevail. She knew he was right on that account. She sighed heavily as she went over the events of the day in her head. There was more she wanted to tell him about it, but couldn't. One thing she began to consider was changes in herself. And she worried that maybe she was losing that flexibility of the rules she coveted. In the past she was never afraid to question policies and procedures, even directly to HQ. And now, she was worried about how another officer acted as if she were nitpicking the policies. Sherlock: Do you think there's ever times when we need to question the rules? Of Starfleet, of the Federation? Martinson: Yes. She stared him in the eyes from across the table. Her face blank, but her eyes asking for more. Martinson: I think it's the job of the Admiralty to keep everyone on their toes with the rules. But I think it's the job of those out in the fleet to question them. I think that's built into the very core of what we do. If you had a hard and fast rule for all situations, you wouldn't be able to do anything out here. The very nature of what we do, what Starfleet does, is based on improvisation and flexibility. As if he could read her mind, he said the word. But it didn't give her an answer to the current situation. The server appeared with their meals and Aine sat up and the conversation paused. When the server left she leaned forward onto the table. Sherlock: So, what do you think should happen? Martinson: I think you should eat your bat...bird...things...and curry. You guys will figure it out. She picked up a piece of bat bird meat with her fingers and slowly but angrily took a bite as she eyed Mel. Like everything else, she was left with more questions than answers. End LCDR Aine Sherlock Chief of Security U.S.S. Octavia E. Butler R239712AS0

Oh you sweet, young, naive thing you. Just wait, it's early yet.

Congratulations! Well deserved, and excellent job all around!

((Forward Torpedo Magazine, Deck 12, USS Juneau)) oO In a crisis situation, it’s best not to second-guess every decision, Lieutenant. Remember? Oo But Drex had a working mind that could not be turned off just because it was a crisis situation, and especially since it was a crisis situation. He had learned, very long ago, to analyze everything from as many different perspectives as possible. He was used to taking a decision, possibly the right one, after gathering information. But they had no information this time. All he knew was that a worm was inside him and Alix took him off injecting him with some stimulant. The worm had taken over his ability to distinguish reality and imagination. It had created such a real nightmare that he could still smell the acrid blood permeating the floor and feel the monster's fangs penetrate the flesh of his wrist. It was something Drex was not willing to try again, but it was not only that. The worm that was in his body, had rushed for the glowing crate, but here there was no crate. Where would it go? Into Kendrick? He was their team leader. He was not the Captain or the XO, but he was the closest thing to them and Drex still remembered Commander Adea’s warning oO if I get killed, it’s very unlikely you’ll pass the test. Oo This was not a test, of course, so it was even more important to keep the Commander alive. Into Kingsley? It seemed the marine was quite confident to be able to take care of the creature. Drex did not know Gwen at all, so he could not judge her, but what he knew was that she was working on a very critical task and any distraction could be fatal for all of them. Into Kingsley’s emergency power generator? It could blow up the entire ship since it was connected to a nuclear torpedo at the moment. So, Drex was the only expendable victim, but you could bet the entire cargo of a Ferengi smuggling ship that he wouldn't crawl into the frying pan of his own will as long as he could avoid it. Luckily, Commander Kendrick was convinced of the validity of Drex's doubts. Kendrick: ::nodding:: Agreed. ::at Kingsley:: How far are we on that EMP pulse, Kingsley? Kingsley: Another minute, Sir. Kendrick: Great job. Kendrick: Ready to activate the EMP? Kingsley: Aye, Sir. Kendrick: ::turning to Drex:: Keep a close eye out on our friend over there, Lieutenant. We don’t know how he’ll respond to the EMP. Drex: Aye sir. oO Let’s hope he keeps sleeping until we meet with Alix. Oo Drex kept himself near the floating unconscious Andorian. His breathing was really shallow. Kingsley: 3 ... 2 ... 1 .... Mark. There was a light from the torpedo as it charged, a whine as it built up a charge, then blew in a loud crack. The air shimmered a bright blue as the electrical charge emanated from the center of the torpedo. Drex felt the electromagnetic charge released by Kingsley's magic pass through his body and raise the hairs on the back of his neck. An unpleasant sensation along the muscles of the arms and chest down to the legs and feet. He saw the Andorian's antennae stiffen on the back of his neck and a trickle of blood trickle from his nose. As the unpleasant sensation faded, the cabin plunged back into darkness again. Kingsley: Everyone ok? Drex: I’m fine and our friend is still barely alive. In the darkness Drex could not see, so he placed a hand on the Andorian’s arm in order not to lose him. He stood ready to inject the compound, waiting for Kendrick’s order to wake him up. Kendrick: Response Suddenly he felt a very faint tremor from the body next to him. The wrist started to glow blueish and a pale wormlike creature slipped out of the skin. It was not rushing anywhere. It looked stunned or sick. Without thinking twice Drex pressed the hypospray onto the worm's body and released the stimulant. The worm began to writhe, producing a low scraping noise that was soon followed by a higher volume scraping noise coming from behind the bulkheads, almost certainly from a service pipe. oO Very smart of you… Oo Drex: I… I don’t know why I’ve done it :: He murmured fearfully :: Kingsley / Kendrick : Response With still twisted movements, the worm headed towards one of the hatches trying to insinuate itself between the wall and the hatch. Drex’eyes followed its movements at first. He ignored whatever it was saying to him and after a few moments followed the glowing creature. Drex: He wants to go home. Drex was sure of that, although he could not tell why his guts was telling him so. Kingsley / Kendrick : Response Despite the cold, which had become even more biting in the last few minutes, making the air unpleasant to breathe, small drops of sweat began to form on his forehead. Drex: No! We need to open the hatch, we need to let him go. They’re scared. Just let me open the hatch! There was fear in his voice, but also a certain aggressiveness. Drex was sure he was right, but he didn't have the means or time to explain the situation logically. Maybe it was the spicy fragrance which hovered more and more insistently in the ship or it was an unwanted memory left inside him by his worm, he was jeopardizing his life on a logicless instinct that told him they had to go back to the crate now. Kingsley / Kendrick : Response TAG, TBC ((OOC: I wrote as if the scraping noise heard by Kingsley were the worms rushing from all places towards the crate, as Falt and Sanchez 's sims pointed out. I hope I have understand correctly)) ============ Lieutenant JG Drex Science Officer Denali Station D240011D14

@Genkos Adea left a strong impression.

I didn't think she was THAT bad.

Congratulations y'all! We're glad to have you!