Alora DeVeau

*hides the dynamite*

I think the banana things needs to be a constant now.

Don't mess with Harford.

But...but...rocks are interesting!

@Jo Marshall is always good for a laugh.

Sometimes, things don't go as we expect. We wind up in a situation in the story and we're uncertain what to do. Meri/Alix found herself in that position, but what does she do? Write an excellent sim based upon the context of what's happening and gets herself back into the game. I also love the creativity in this. IC: ((Maintenance Crawlspace, Deck 9B3/4, USS Eagle)) Owa slipped forward in the lead with Doc close behind him phaser drawn. As they came around the corner, Doc's mind was slammed full of intrusive and jumbled thoughts, none of them pleasant, save for the kittens, that was odd but not exactly comforting considering. The cacophony in her mind brought her to her knees and Owa, seemingly unphased, positioned his body to shield hers while she attempted to regain composure. Before she could get a word out in response to their plan, Alix's mind was suddenly flooded with a bombardment of imagery, none of it pleasant and the pressure building inside her skull caused her ears to ring a loud high screeching sound that brought her to her knees. Hands cradling her head, she grasped for conscious thought, any stream of her own voice, just some thread to hold onto. “Alix”: oO medical..... kit..... Oo Yes that's right, she was a doctor. She clawed at her kit fumbling for the drugs, any drugs, that would help her control her mind. A soft hum floated up from somewhere back in the distant reaches of her consciousness. She almost swore she saw a hatch opening or being opened nearby but everything peripheral was just the other side of tangible so instead she focused on digging through the hyposprays splayed before her. Then suddenly all Alix heard was the humming, or was it singing? The imagery flooding her mind swirled in a disorienting kaleidoscope of color and suddenly went black. Only the humming remained. The walls of the Eagle, her team, her med kit, nothing was left to anchor her. She heard a soft lilting melody coming from behind her and stood to go and find it. Doc did not find composure, shielded by the half Bajoran man she barely knew. Instead her mind raced, thoughts slipping through her fingers like sand, and fell forward into an all consuming blackness. The only sensation left to her was a gentle melody from somewhere that should have been distant, but felt all too close and all too real. Pushing to her feet she stumbled in the dark to find the comforting song her mother used to sing. After rooting around in the darkness for minutes, minutes that were almost imperceptible to her confused mind, Alix Harford found herself stumbling into the familiar rustic kitchen of her childhood home. Expecting to see her mother there singing and baking, she stood staring across the kitchen at herself humming the melody. The Alix that stared back at her looked harder, felt harder. “Doc” Alt Harford: You're not- how do you know that tune? “Doc” Alt Harford: ::simultaneously:: My mother sang it to us. “Alix” Real Harford:: simultaneously:: My mother sang it to us. “Alix” Real Harford: Are you- Are we- me? “Doc” Alt Harford: ::snorting:: I'm me. You're obviously some figment of my imagination. A repressed memory. “Alix” Real Harford: This is a trick from the telepath. You’re not real. “Doc” Alt Harford: Well, we can't both be figments. The two Harfords stared at each other in hostile, stunned silence for a long moment. “Alix” Real Harford: Alright, logic will explain this. Logic explains everything. I know that I was pulled into an alternate dimension and I know that another me, an alternate me, was identified. How do we ascertain whether we are each real or one of us is a projection of telepathy? “Doc” Alt Harford: Ask me something only we would know. And we both answer at once. “Alix” Real Harford: That assumes we have the same past, doesn’t it? There’s more than a small flaw in your plan. “Doc” Alt Harford: There's no need to be so pedantic. It's a trust exercise. “Alix” Real Harford: I guess if there’s not a better hypothesis… Who’s your favorite sister? “Doc” Alt Harford::simultaneously:: Allison “Alix” Real Harford::simultaneously:: Allison A moment of cautious recognition passed between them before the real Alix waved a hand out in a gesture that indicated her doppelganger should take the next question. The harder version of herself nodded back and pondered a moment. “Doc” Alt Harford: What did your mother give you to calm your nerves? “Alix” Real Harford::simultaneously:: spearmint tea “Doc” Alt Harford::simultaneously:: spearmint tea “Alix” Real Harford: Alright, I’d like to interject and say that I’m not entirely okay with whatever this is. “Doc” Alt Harford: It appears that this meeting of the minds doesn’t care whether you’re okay with it or not. “Alix” Real Harford: Let’s just finish this so we can figure out why we’re here. What happened on Stardate 238906.04? “Doc” Alt Harford::simultaneously:: A shuttle accident. ::pause:: My father died. “Alix” Real Harford::simultaneously:: A shuttle accident… what? Dad didn’t die… dad died? Grief for a father she never lost flooded through Alix. Tears welled to her eyes as she grappled with the realization that somewhere out there she still had a father. They hadn’t spoken in more than four years, but he was alive. Pity pushed the tears down her cheeks as she looked at this harder version of herself. “Alix” Real Harford: I’m so sorry. How did? What? ::long pause:: I’m sorry. “Doc” Alt Harford::snapping:: You are most certainly not me. Why are you crying? He wasn’t your father. You didn’t lose your father. “Alix” Real Harford: Wouldn’t you be devastated to learn that any version of him, of anyone you loved… “Doc” Alt Harford::cold:: No. ::biting:: Why would I be here with you, you’re clearly weak? You wear a uniform. You even look soft. Clearly defensive, Doc turned on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen. Wiping tears from her face and tamping down the sting of the harsh words that were slung her way, Alix followed. The moment they stepped out of the kitchen the kaleidoscope of imagery forced into their minds returned with a heavy weight to it and their ears rang with a shrill, hollow sound. Both women dropped to their knees moving in unison to clutch at their now splitting heads. “Doc”: oO That worthless Betazoid. Oo “Alix”: oO What Betazoid?Oo “Doc”: oO I suppose it’s not surprising you can hear my thoughts. Karen, the Betazoid with the boarding party. She’s doing this. Oo “Alix”: oO So how do we get out of this? Oo “Doc”: oO Well I can’t shoot her. Maybe someone else will.Oo “Alix”: oO We can’t just wait for the problem to go away. I’m an officer. I’m a doctor. I have a duty to my team. They need me.Oo Racking her brain, Alix did her best to focus on the before. What had she been doing before? The answer to their problem lingered right outside her mind’s grasp. “Alix”: oO medical..... kit..... Oo “Doc”: oOYes, that’s right. You’re a doctor. We’re a doctor. Get us out of this mess. Oo “Alix”: oOHow. We’re trapped here. This is our worst nightmare. Oo “Doc”: oOYou’ve got to fight. Fight to get out of this. Fight to help your people.Oo “Alix”: oOI can’t. It’s too much. I can’t.Oo The will to fight, to push through this, was escaping Alix. She wasn’t tough. She wasn’t a fighter. She was a doctor, a scientist, who’d strayed too far from her lab for the last time. This is where she was going to end; lost in space, lost in her mind, arguing with herself. From in front of her she felt a cool hand grab hold of hers, then slender calloused fingers wrapped around her other soft hand. “Doc”: oO Fight, Alix. Fight for them. Fight to get home. Oo Doc visualized pressing her will into the other woman as they knelt facing each other, her hands which had seen hard work entangled with her counterparts' smoother palms. Mentally she pushed the other woman, trying to think her into a clearer space, trying to take all of the pain into her own mind and allow Alix a reprieve and hopefully an opportunity to break free. She felt her connection to the other woman’s mind weakening and prayed it was a good sign. Slowly, like a gentle sunrise, Alix felt the cacophony lifting from her mind. She fought. She grasped for reality reaching with her mind for the Eagle and where she knew she was meant to be. Kendrick. Kettick. Zevash. The Eagle. Her team needed her. She has a duty. With a final push she felt her hands slide into her medkit and she scrambled to grab a Lexorin hypospray. When he fingers wrapped around it she stuck it to her neck and injected the neurotransmitter inhibitor without hesitation. Almost immediately the terrifying pull at her mind fell away and she could think clearly. Out of nowhere, Doc’s mind raced back in on itself. She blinked, looking up at the half Bajoran who was now pressed against her, pinning her to the ground like dead weight. She shoved Owa off of her and he rolled, lifeless, to the ground, blood seeping from his back. Alix looked around her at evidence of an explosion, injuries, a half blasted door that had apparently shielded her from the worst of it, and Kettick… Doctor Harford immediately got to work. Kendrick/ Kettick / Zevash/ Peri/ Stendhal: Response TAG/TBC ---------- ● ---------- Alix "Doc" Harford Slave serving as Doctor & Comms BDS Kai Ircash, Shai Bel Defense Forces Bajoran Hegenomy AND Ensign Alix Harford Medical Officer Denali Station D240104AH2

Very honest and very realistic!

Welcome! we're glad to have you!

Kettick is my favouretest Remmilian in the whole universe! ((Maintenance Crawlspace, Deck 9B3/4, USS Eagle)) The Remmilian did not say a word as he locked his console, pulled out his sidearm, and started to open the power cell compartment. Kettick: Plasma, shrapnel or concussion? I don't have the materials for gas, smoke or incendiary on me. The combat engineer harnesses are only available in the Armory, alas. Kendrick: The Armory is one deck up. ::checks his phaser:: Which means we have to get creative. Quite. And that was precisely the unofficial motto of the Corps of Engineers: Find a way, or make one. Zevash: Response Doctor Harford was watching him as if he had suddenly grown a smock and a top-hat and started tap-dancing. Harford: Lt. Commander Kettick, as the umm... officer responsible for keeping you all alive, I'd prefer shrapnel be our last resort option, of the three. ::addressing both superior officers:: If it's all the same to you, Sirs. The Remmilian nodded. Preference duly noted. But while Kettick agreed with Starfleet values when they professed violence was seldom the answer, he also believed that in the rare case when it was, it was best to answer very thoroughly. Zevash: Response Kettick looked up towards the S&T officer. Kettick: I have a Security qualification, but I do not fancy our chances against two commandos. On the other hand, I believe an improvised explosive in a corridor, such as an overloading phaser cell, to be a very efficient means of pursuit determent, especially if we can use a blast door or forcefield to direct the shockwave towards the pursuers. Kendrick: I like your thinking, Kettick. Zevash: Response As the Remmilian walked towards the nearest hatch door that separated them from the possible hostiles and started preparing their trap, several things happened at once. There was a soft thud behind him, some concerned words by Kendrick... but all of this was drowned by the onslaught of images and sensations that assailed his senses. While some of the creatures were rather cute, the barrage overwhelmed him. His brain was filled with static, incapable of processing anything else. At least, one of his brains was. The rest of his network of neural ganglia, distributed across his organism and completely devoid of any interest about sensory information, kept churning, and executing previous orders. Without any sensory feedback, there was a bit more fumbling involved than a Kettick at nominal capacity might want to be caught dead commiting, but the work was done, and the Remmilian's body took a lurching step backwards, then reached the end of the list of tasks assigned by the central brain and just... stood there, looking like he did not have a care in the world, face impassible as ever and posture uncharacteristically slack. Slack enough that his fingers released the spehere of duct tape, that bounced quietly and happily forward down the corridor, adding the smidgen of kinetic energy the reaction inside needed for the very unstable power cell at its core to go fully critical. The Engineer could only hope that whatever had short-circuited his senses had also affected his sympathic system. Because in a few seconds, when the blast wave from the makeshift plasma grenade would meet a backstop that, instead of a forcefield, consisted in a Remmilian standing in the middle of the corridor and hoping to shield the rest of his team from the wave that would scour the hallway in both directions? That was going to smart like the grand-Queen of all Tuesdays. TBC -- Lieutenant-Commander Kettick Chief of Engineering Denali Station G239107LR0 Your Engineering department kindly reminds you that you are supposed to read the flakking manual.

@Serala My only disappointment is that you didn't use, "Never give up! Never surrender!"

I love how he sets the tone here.

In other words, we have permission to explode stuff. Got it.

Need Help? Just call triple A! Phase 2 BEGINS! (( Captain’s Ready Room, Deck 1, USS Kitty Hawk )) With the auto destruct sequence disengaged, the changeling known as specimen 731 captured, and the Kitty Hawk proceeding at best possible speed back to Earth with the prototype USS Miller escorting her, Roshanara entered the ready room and called out to the computer. Rahman: Computer, seal the doors and silence all comm calls to this room. After the computer responded with an acknowledgement beep, the Kriosian sat behind her desk and turned the desktop monitor towards her. Rahman: Open a secure channel to the Astraeus and Artemis: priority one. Captain’s eyes only. (( Captain’s Ready Room, Deck 1, USS Astraeus )) Swiping down on the screen on his terminal to queue the message for later transmission, Mei’konda leaned back in his chair, reaching up to massage his temples with both fingers. Letters of condolences were perhaps the most draining part of his job. The Caitian was fortunate in that he hadn’t had to write many of them over the years, but after the Changeling sabotage in his ship’s Operations center which had resulted in five deaths, in addition to the murder of their Master-at-Arms Andrew Davis, so that one of the pair could assume his identity, he’d known it was a duty he’d have to get on as soon as possible. With Astraeus now on her way to Earth but with the situation at Spacedock and Starfleet Headquarters still unknown, Mei had made the decision that all unnecessary communications would be restricted until further notice. At the very least, until Changeling infiltration at Headquarters could be ruled out… or dealt with. That meant that his officers and crews’ families would have to wait to find out what had happened. Astraeus Bridge: =/\= Captain Delano, we’re receiving a three way communication request… identifiers show that they’re coming from the Kitty Hawk and the Artemis. =/\= Mei’konda cracked his eyes open again, and a frown creased his muzzle. The ship of his old Captain, whom he’d spoken to at the beginning of this mess. And Addison MacKenzie’s ship. He’d never met the former medical officer, but knew her background well enough. She was one of the most highly decorated officers in Starbase 118’s attached fleet. But were they who they said they were? He was fairly sure that he could make that verification with Rahman, but what about with MacKenzie? Mei’konda: =/\= Acknowledged, Briidge. Encrypt the signal. I don’t waant anyone outside of our three shiips interceptiing it. I’ll taake it in my ready room. =/\= Astraeus Bridge: =/\= Aye, Captain. =/\= (( Captain’s Ready Room, Deck 1, USS Artemis )) Addison sunk into the chair behind the large mahogany desk in her office. Over the course of her career, the surgeon-turned-commanding officer had gotten exceedingly proficient in the art of learning to let things go that were beyond your control. Sometimes you could perform a textbook surgery, and sometimes the patient still died. The reality was that the galaxy was full of injustice, and getting worked up or upset about the actions of the universe was only likely to shorten one’s life due to stress. The Borg’s sudden appearance in the Alpha Quadrant and would-be alliance with the Changelings was only the latest in a long line of universal injustices. The damage to the Artemis and loss of life was another. But there was no time to think about any of that: the battle wasn’t yet one; the day not yet saved. There was still work to be done, and she couldn’t tend to the businesses of processing the events of the day until it was all over. Hallia had done well expediting the repairs to both the warp drive and the communication array. The idea of trying to amplify the comm arrays of other, smaller sources on the ship was a stroke of genius, but they had know way to know if their warning was ever received. Now that they knew the Borg were on a course for Earth, it was likely they’d make sure no messages got through. There was only one person in the quadrant Addison knew she could trust. Her former CO was not only on her way to participate in the Frontier Day celebrations, but she was also arguably making the longest trek of any ship. Not to mention, Addison now had several of Amity Outpost’s crew aboard. …she wondered how surprised Rivi Vataix must be. After the pair of officers verified each others’ identities after a series of questions regarding Addison’s poor choice in men and the best burgers in the Shoals (sleazy Betazoid royalty and Welder’s Diner, respectively), Rahman requested that another trusted source be added to the conversation. When the three-way link had been established, Addison got word from the bridge. Artemis Bridge: =/\= Captain MacKenzie, we have Captains Rahman and Mei'konda. =/\= MacKenzie: =/\= Acknowledged. Route it through to my ready room and encrypt the transmission. =/\= After a moment, two faces appeared on her screen: one new, and one with which she was intimately familiar. (( Doing away with location tags and communications =/\= markers here, so they don’t clutter up the whole scene! )) Mei’konda glanced back and forth between the two faces on his screen, his sharp blue gaze settling on Rahman first. Mei’konda: It’s good to see you, Captain Rahman. After all of thiis business with the Titan, I’ll be glaad to give my crew some tiime to relax on Earth. My parents will be there, Roshanara, I thiink they would be delighted to finally meet my old commaanding officer. Rahman: I see… I’m sure they haven’t already forgotten the lengthy discussion we had at your wedding. Your father had quite the opinion on the state of the Federation since his return to the timeline. Mei’konda’s father had supposedly been killed at the Battle of Wolf 359, but thanks to the whims of the Q continuum, he and his ship the USS Yamaguchi had actually been preserved and he and the rest of his crewmates were brought forward twenty-five years later, where he would be reunited with his son, now a grown Starfleet officer. Mei’konda exhaled a slow, relieved breath. As he’d hoped she would, Rahman had properly called him out on the misinformation. She was who she said she was. Rahman: Now, as for finally meeting, this is Captain Addison MacKenzie. She joined Veritas as a medical officer a few months after you’d left to take command of the Montreal. Addison sat back in her chair, observing the expressions on the faces of the pair on her screen. If Rahman trusted the Caitian, that was good enough for her. MacKenzie: It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mei’konda. Your reputation precedes you. The Caitian nodded in confirmation to Rahman. If she was sure that MacKenzie was also safe to speak with, he was willing to take her word for it. Mei’konda: Then maay I say… it is an immense relief to taalk to the both of you. Roshanara let herself exhale a sigh of relief as well. Rahman: It has certainly been a day… but it’s good to talk with some old friends. Addison crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. MacKenzie: Especially since we don’t know how many of us are left. Rahman: When I heard the Astraeus had gone silent, I was a bit worried myself, I have to admit. Leaning forward in his seat, the Caitian man clasped his hands together atop his desk. Mei’konda: Yes, Captain. I assumed some at Starfleet would be wonderiing at the sudden cessaation of reports from my shiip. The truth is, we had two Changeling infiltraators on board. We have dealt with them, and have one in the brig. But they caused extensiive damage… as well as casualties, before we could do so. Before that, behaavior by the captains of the Cole and the Sternbach was very… suspiicious, to say the least. Addison raised an eyebrow. The Changelings were apparently back with a vengeance, and Addison took comfort in the fact that they didn’t appear to be the only victims. MacKenzie: We’ve had a similar experience here… Unconsciously, Mei reached up to rub at his neck. He couldn’t still feel where the Changeling had wrapped its tentacle around his throat and attempted to choke him to death, not really… but the memory was fresh. It had only happened a few hours ago. It almost felt like days. Mei’konda: One of them attempted to kill me, and taake my place. We managed to kill it instead, and I then contaacted the Cole’s CO. I was able to conviince him that the replacement had been successful, and he shared some interestiing information with me. What about the two of you? Rahman: Unfortunately for my crew, a changeling was successfully in knocking me out at Spacedock before we even left. She got aboard and pretended to be me–apparently so convincingly that she even got my first officer to activate the self-destruct sequence with her. We’re not quite sure what the full plan was. A Ferengi scavenger attacked the Kitty Hawk but was destroyed, and our changeling “friends” aren’t giving us many answers from the brig. Addison shook her head. MacKenzie: I’m sure the goal of ours was to replace me, but fortunately we discovered the sabotage before they could get to me. We weren’t able to extract any more useful information from it. Mei nodded, thoughtfully. Mei’konda: I see…Captain Th’vorrorh of the Cole mentioned somethiing about Fleet Formation mode, and disappointment that there had been difficulties in adaptiing the software to our systems. Astraeus is too old; her computer systems too unique, with her blend of isolinear and bio-neural hardware. It sounded as if that had somethiing to do with their plan. MacKenzie: What else do you know? Mei’konda: On my end, only a few other thiings. Captain Th’vorrorh, or… The Changeling who was impersonaating him, also said that we could not disappoint someone named Vadic, and that findiing a man named Jack Crusher was essential. The implicaation seemed to be that Jack Crusher was on board the Titan, but there is no record of a crew member with that naame, and the only passengers we know they have on board are… He shook his head, and sighed. Mei’konda: Retired Admiral Jean-Luc Picard, and Captain William T. Riker. Addison’s eyes narrowed. MacKenzie: Crusher… Beverly Crusher was an experienced physician and former head of Starfleet Medical. I have to assume there must be some relation if Admiral Picard and Captain Riker are also involved… Are you still intended to participate in the ceremony? Mei’konda: Yes, we’re presently on course for Sector 001. Technicaally, I am still obeyiing orders, as that is where the Cole wanted us, but I have no intentiion of continuing our search for the Titan. It seems to me that they are on our side. Roshanara nodded, musing again about whom they might be able to trust Rahman: At this point, it might be easier to assume the ships that *have* gone silent are the ones left on “our side.” From what we do know from the changelings on Kitty Hawk, there is strong resentment against the Federation. These appear to be an offshoot group from the larger Great Link–more akin to a rogue terrorist cell. Given the sophistication of the conspiracy thus far and their success in infiltrating Starfleet, we have to assume they’re planning a bigger attack. Addison shook her head. MacKenzie: We have a bigger problem. We encountered a Borg Cube as we were passing through the Badlands. Interestingly, Captain Rahman, after we boarded the ship, we ran into a team of officers from Amity who managed to board the ship via some kind of transwarp conduit… We discovered the Borg stole some kind of technology from Amity, but we weren’t able to determine what. They dealt quite a bit of damage to our systems before they withdrew… But they’re on a course for Earth. Mei’konda straightened up in his seat, the shock visible on his face. The Changelings? And now the Borg? He’d never been involved in any situation which directly involved one of the Federation’s most deadly enemies, and now they seemed to be facing two - the Borg and perhaps the Dominion? Mei’konda: … Changelings and Borg at the same time? This seems faar too much to be a coincidence. Conventiional wisdom would seem to imply that they are coming at the first tiime, with so much of the fleet gathered at Earth, and paarticularly with Fleet Formation mode comiing online with so many of the newer vessels… perhaps it is, in some way, central to their plan. The Cole’s false Captain mentiioned it directly, after all. Roshanara took a deep breath. She could feel the pressure of that metaphorical ticking clock bearing down on her. Every minute that passed was another minute closer to disaster. Rahman: If they’re working together, and the changelings have infiltrated Command, we need to get back to Earth and warn the wider fleet ourselves. Go directly to the other captains. Have any of you been able to contact anyone else in the Sol system? Addison shook her head again. MacKenzie: We’re enroute, but we were significantly delayed. We tried to get a message through, but I think we should assume it never made it. The Caitian nodded slowly. With his crew, he’d do his best to stay positive and never let them think a crisis couldn’t be survived through perseverance, intelligence, and grit. He wasn’t about to do so with these two Captains, either. Mei’konda: Agreed. I think that we should ensure that our three ships can maintaiin encrypted communicaations until this siituation is resolved. Roshanara folded her hands together, interlacing her fingers as she considered their immediate next steps. Rahman: Kitty Hawk only has a skeleton crew aboard and we’re still making repairs from the sabotage. I think it makes sense for Kitty Hawk and Artemis to rendezvous before we head into the Sol system. Mei, you’re the closest of the three of us to Earth. Try to see if you can find other allies and warn the fleet to be on alert. We’ll try to get there not too far behind you. She looked back at both of her former shipmates. Once, they were her subordinates that she had the responsibility to protect as their captain. Today, they were her equals, and they were all tasked with protecting the Federation from whatever nefarious plan the Borg and Changeling alliance had concocted. Rahman: Whatever lies ahead, we will face it together. Godspeed, both of you. ======================================= Captain Mei’konda Delano Commanding Officer USS Astraeus, NCC-70652 M239002M10 & Captain Roshanara Rahman CO, USS Kitty Hawk I238705TZ0 & Captain Addison MacKenzie, M.D., Ph.D., FASFS Commanding Officer USS Artemis-A Captains Council Member at Large V239601AM0

This is at least the second time @Drex0379 has referred to this incident. @Genkos Adea certainly left an impression.

Karen's musings crack me up. IC: (( Operations Center, Deck 7, USS Octavia E Butler )) Counselor personal log -- What about the yellow alerts? Was it the color? A green alert would have made no sense, orange? Not really. Yellow was universally considered a warning cry: "Attention! Attention! Danger approaching!" It wasn't red, but it was close. A warning, a presentiment of impending threat. Like saying, "Hey, watch out! It's going to turn red soon and you'll have to take action to avoid the worst: jump, brake, swerve to dodge a meteor, raise your shields to defend yourself, or fire to avoid being annihilated." In short, it was clear as day that the yellow alert could easily turn into a synonym for ANXIETY. Only experience could help one manage the stress of yellow alerts. After hundreds of yellow alerts with no consequences, it was inevitable to relax a bit and not worry too much. After all, this was the star fleet: invincible, indestructible! Or was it? Tell that to the USS Columbia, whose wreckage still roamed empty space, a tombstone in the cold, icy void of the cosmos. -- End log. Caras: Yellow Alert!? Are we in danger? Do we need to start working faster? Did we follow the Unity Dow’s exact path, it’s possible we didn’t get whatever they got? If they got something. ::beginning to work quicker:: Arlill: I'm concerned about what happened to the Unity. If that happens to the OEB, how do we know we'll be any more successful than they were? At least with the shields up, we may block whatever happened to them. Stendhal: Don't worry at this point is just a precaution. Is just to let everyone know that there may be a potential danger out there. I suggest to start to worry when is all getting red and the Captain order to abandon the Ship immediately... Richards: Response Caras: ::Casually:: Counselor, how do you usually advise people to be calm in a red alert let alone a yellow. oO This is my first actual yellow alert on a ship in StarFleet. Possibly the first yellow alert on a ship that wasn’t due to my tampering Oo Stendhal: Ensign Caras, it's natural to feel a bit nervous during a yellow alert, but it's crucial to channel that energy constructively. Focus on your breathing, steady, deep breaths can center your thoughts. Remember, alerts are precautionary measures; they help us stay prepared. Trust in your training and the crew. Karen gazed at Caras. Did he feel judged? Why? Here, no one judged anyone; they were a team! Caras: That is. That is….. Good. Counselor after we’re done here I think I'm going to need to schedule an appointment. (beat) Just A few more Important adjustments. What’s going on out there by the way? Stendhal: An appointment? A date or a counselling session? Well nevermind! Karen looked at Morro, suppressing a laugh. After all, Betazoids were quite open about it, and how could they not be? Knowing others’ thoughts instantly. She had discovered that it wasn’t the same for all other races; in fact, many other races were quite closed about it. Even the word ‘appointment’ for her could have different implications, and even ‘date’. Richards: Response Arlill: Something wrong ensign? Caras: Nothing is wrong, so far as I can tell sir. ::looking to Karen:: Just a counseling appointment… A date? I wouldn’t want to cause a conflict of interest of anything, that is not a “no” I just..::he trailed off::. oO A date!? Did it sound like I was asking her out? Was I using the Orion charm? How did that happen?Oo oO The Orion charm!? Maybe was it! Oo Arlill: Okay, but you'll let us know if any of you feel off. We need to avoid whatever happened here, so let's try to stay focused. Stendhal: I agree, stay focused is really crucial! Caras: Agreed, ::he dove back under the floor panels:: This should be the last one right here. Richards: Response Arlill: What is that? Arlill: Let’s see if we can pull that up. Stendhal: That sounds promising! Arlill: Great! (beat) I mean, I think there’s a log here with some sensor data in it, we need to look into why this was possibly sent, what’s unique about it, why did someone take so much careful effort to send this hidden in the other logs. Stendhal: That can be the answer for sure, the sensor data may tell us about the thing out there, whatever it is! What caused the problems in the other ship the USS Dutywow Unity whatever is called... Caras: ::Laughing at the name Karen gave the lost ship:: Dutywow, an ironic name given that its duty was a rather boring assignment. There is hidden sensory data? That certainly reeks of sabotage, or at least conspiracy. oOFinally! Sabotage! My specialty.Oo. Richards: Response. Caras: Richards and I are done here, Lieutenant. Once we have the backup of that data, Richards can begin the decryption and we can fault over to secondary systems to observe the raw stream. Richards: Response. Caras: Good point, We’ll also want to make sure we’re not in danger at the time of decryption. The secondary computer core will be taxed and the primary will be busy capturing the data. I wouldn’t want to hinder ops and risk the safety of the crew to decrypt the messages. Arlill: Response. Karen took a moment to assess the situation. Assuming that as a Betazoid she was very open to any kind of relationship, her love life had been a complete and utter disaster. A Bridget Jones in space, practically. Or worse! At least Bridget had "scored" a couple of times! Certainly, being in a stasis chamber in a kind of induced coma for a few years had not contributed much to her social life. In addition, when she came out of it, with all that zero-gravity physiotherapy to get back to moving and even her little fingers refused to respond to her for the first few months. So, what happened first? That short walk with whatever his name was, Joran, Jordan? He had moved away shortly after, a coincidence? Then, well Rusty was more like a cool uncle with a pronouncedly exaggerated slang for her. So nada, not really the case. Madison was like a sister to her and vice versa, plus she was semi-married to that other girl from Risa with the unpronounceable name Aueka Eureka something Willow. On top of that, the two of them looked like two peas in a pod, so it would be like kissing herself in the mirror: impractical! Well, yes Tito was definitely a hottie and when she was with him she had turned into something very much like a silly high school girl, but he was already taken. This time then she had left. Who else was on Deep Space 118? The Commodore was a kind of saint, dedicated to his duty, no relationships for like ten years or more. Practically, Sal had even fewer relationships than a Vulcan who at least gave it a go every seven years. Well, new ship, new life? No way! Sometimes she felt like she was scaring everyone away. She had that brief... appointment with Josh. But her Betazoid sixth sense was telling her he wasn't interested in her type of goods... Oh, so the computer had noticed too? Was that why it had created for Karen her new personal holographic assistant, H.O.C.A., in Tito's image? How the heck did it know, had it rummaged through her logs? Those AIs were terrifying sometimes! Would she end up with a hologram? A nice virtual marriage with an imaginary entity? Was that what awaited her? Karen smiled, making an embarrassed grimace. Caras: Looks like whoever is on the bridge has been busy, or is about to be. Stendhal: Busy Bridget? Ah no! Bridge! Yeah it seems so! Richards/Arlill: Response Stendhal: I'm not a tactical expert, but what do you think about scanning the surrounding space for potential mysterious dangers? Just in case... Richards/Arlill/Caras: TBC / Tags! -- ================================= Lt Jg Karen Trisha Stendhal Counselor USS Octavia E Butler ID: C239604KS0 ================================= ####################################### https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=Karen_Stendhal

OOC: Quick, everyone, hide your pets! And your bananas! IC: ((Transporter Room 1, Deck 4, USS Octavia E. Butler)) Eli and Una arrived in the teleportation room. Unlike Eli, Una didn't wonder if and when that kind of room would become obsolete. In her little village of Natale, after all, they still had donkeys and a post office. There was even a foundation for the preservation and maintenance of ancient places and trades. They didn't like very much space travelers like her and basically hate any kind of star trek... In addition, there was a thriving conspiracy movement that believed that humans had never been to the moon, that the earth was flat, and that the Vulcans actually came from southern Japan. Una helped Eli run diagnostics on the system, but nothing came up. According to the diagnostic programs, everything was fine. Una: How about we try teleporting something and follow the path it takes? Kovacs: Based on that diagnostic, I think that’s the right plan. If there is a fault, and it follows a repeatable pattern, then it’s going to be easier to fix. ::pausing for a moment, and then a grin spreading across his face:: So, are we transporting you? You did offer… Una watched Eli as he proposed that she try out the malfunctioning teleporter on herself, with potentially disastrous and fatal consequences for her molecular integrity. Well, he was just lovely! Even handsome! He reminded her of that Duyzer guy she'd met years ago on the Columbia. Wonder if he'd managed to save himself or if he'd blown up too. It had been a while since she'd seen him... oOMaybe she was the one who brought bad luck?Oo Una: I was thinking more of an object, like a box or something. Kovacs: Okay, okay ::holding up his hands in mock defeat:: Let’s take the cautious route. I heard we got assigned some marine that would probably have my butt since they’re the new ‘safety warden’ in town. Let’s do something safer, maybe… a banana? Una: A banana? oO How did he even think of a banana? Oo A real banana or a replicated banana? You know a real one is biologically 'alive', right? A replicated one, on the other hand, while retaining taste, density, and color, is biologically dead... oO How did they end up talking about live or dead bananas now? Oo Kovacs: (grinning) Well… I’ve never heard of ‘death by banana’ before. We can transport one here and then back out so we get data both way Una: I wonder why nobody really cares about bananas... Ok let's have a Quantum transportation tour with the yellow fruit! Death or alive you come with me Banana! oO What a Minions conversation! Oo Kovacs: Ready? Una showed off her recently acquired banana in her left hand, (God knows where she find it!) after few dramatic steps she dropped it with elegance on the transporter pad. Una: Beam it up Kovacs! Kovacs: Response Una: Anyway... A cat would be way better, yeah, a more suitable subject, preferably the Captain's cat! Kovacs: Response Una: To give us some motivation, you know!? If we off the Captain's cat, then we're in trouble, so we'd be more motivated to succeed! Instead of a banana, who cares? Kovacs: Response Una: Maybe the XO's hamster so? Aniway how is our Banana? Still alive? Kovacs: Response The swirling energy bubble typical of teleportation started to form with the characteristic energy hum on one of the teleportation pads... The banana appeared fine for a few seconds and then it exploded into a banana smoothie. The girl stared at the yellowish goo, dumbfounded and perplexed. Una: I must say that... What come back luckily didn't lived enough ... Kovacs: Response Tags/TBC ============================= Lt Jg Karen Trisha Stendhal Counselor USS Octavia E Butler ID: C239604KS0 =============================

It was certainly the highlight of my...

I just love Kettick's description! Synesthesia is actually a thing!