Sal Taybrim

DATES: The class began on 2024-11-26 and ended 2024-12-04 LIST: sb118-Academy4 COMMANDING OFFICER: Lt. Commander @Robin Hopper FIRST OFFICER: Lt. Commander Kristy Carpenter GRADUATES: Hana Wright Tholin ch'Chex Welcome to the fleet – we're so glad you're here! My door is always open if you ever need anything 🎉

An excellent except from an all around excellent sim from @Solaris! A question we all must ask ourselves...

Where is my “innocent whistling” gif when I need it?!

I like this description of experience from the very experienced @Vitor S. Silveira

This is the most hilariously eloquent overview of what's going on, thank you @Margaret Walker!

We're gonna get our nails done afterwards 😆

I loved this entire sim! @Margaret Walker makes a passionate argument for heroics and the good guys winning the day!

I thought this was an excellent character development sim from @Sasch Kreshkova! ((USS Narendra - Kreshkova’s quarters)) Sasch lay on her back on the bed in her quarters aboard the Narendra. She knew that it would be a little while before they would reach the Sol system. Well, her mind knew it. Her body seemed to be totally oblivious to it. She stared at the ceiling, hands folded over her stomach, toes wiggling nonstop in time to the music playing in her head. The music that she couldn’t turn off. That annoying music which kept her toes wiggling which kept her awake. Or maybe that wasn’t the relationship between them, but no matter which came first the wiggling toes or the music - she was still awake. Sasch groaned in frustration and flopped onto her side, pulling her pillow out from under her head and fluffing it before replacing it. It wasn’t so much that she was a stranger to this phenomenon. It would often rear it’s ugly head before a written exam or a practicum evaluation. And while the newly minted Lieutenant knew that this could - and probably would - be an issue, she had never found a way to overcome this internal struggle between her inability to change the outcome at this point and knowing that she was walking into an unknown, potentially life-altering situation. Kreshkova closed her eyes and counted down from ten - as if that magical formula was going to accomplish exactly what she needed. Oo 10 - Rest is on the way. 9 - I’m going to get some much needed sleep. 8 - I might yawn…am I going to yawn? …. Nope. 7 - I’m getting sleepy. 6 - slow, deep breath. 5 - oO Kreshkova: Oh, zhis is just not vorth it! The green haired girl threw back the covers to her bed, slipped out of it with a grunt, and stomped off to the replicator. Her hair fell into her eyes, but she ignored it. Kreshkova: Mulled cider. Hot. The replicator sounded a short whir and a white mug filled with a rust colored liquid and billowing with steam appeared in the empty space. Sasch tested the temperature of the cup before picking it up in two hands and walking over to her couch. Pushing herself into the corner of her couch, she pulled her legs up in front of her and set the warm glass on her knees. She blew across the mug sending out a plume of steam in the opposite direction. Reaching out tentatively with her lips, she tried a small sip to see if it was too hot for her to drink, but she likely wouldn’t have known whether or not it was because she was suddenly caught up in a memory. ((Flashback - nine years ago)) Once when she she was about thirteen, she and her father were out on their boat together on the sea. The wind whipped the young teens hair all around her face, first from one direction and then from another as if the wind was fickle maid uncertain of which direction it wanted to flow, so it tried them all, never really settling on a decision. Dimitri Kreshkova: We haf to get the said down, Sashenka. Her father yelled over the din. Dmitri Kreshkova: I should haf seen zhis squall coming up. And it was true. The experienced spaceman and seafarer should have seen the signs, but he and his daughter were having a beautiful time fishing in the sea and making some great catches in the process. The tempest whipped in quickly from the other direction. The sea had gone from calm to seismic in a matter of minutes. The fishing gear forgotten, the two Kreshkova’s worked together to get the sail in before either it was torn assunder from the mast or it took the mast with it. Sasch strained to get to the correct halyard. Just as she would get her fingers in reach, the fickle mistress wind would wrench it from her hands with a snap and a whoosh. As a result the Osprey cut through the waves like medication injected via hypospray - with a force that couldn’t be fought against. Holding onto one of the railings, Dmitri hauled himself into position trying to get to the rope to lower the sail. He stretched forward, willing himself to go beyond his capabilities. Finally, he was able to grab the errant line, and giving it one solid yank, the entire sail collapsed down into its position. Father turned to daughter and yelled over the racuous din of the storm. Dmitri Kreshkova: Go below deck. It vill be safer down Zhere. Sasch Kreshkova: Nyet. Ve are a team, and you may need me. Dmitri gave Sasch a withering look, but the teen stood her ground. It took awhile for the duo to navigate their schooner into a port some distance from their home port, but Dmitri reminded Sasch - any port in a storm. The two waited out the storm in a nearby tavern Sasch drank hot, mulled cider while Dmitri chose something stronger. The younger of the two stared down into her drink. She was still wet through though no longer noticeably shivering - as she had been earlier. She still had to work to even her breathing and soothe her nerves from the ordeal. As she sipped slowly on the warm liquid, it was almost as if the warmth of the beverage was conveyed through her body from the inside out and from her middle to her extremeties. Along with the warmth it delivered a modicum of peace to her bristly spirit. After several minutes sitting in solitude with herself, Sasch looked over at her father. This was the scarriest thing she had ever been through. But he had been in Starfleet since before she was born. Had he seen horrors worse than this? She started softly. Saschenka Kreshkova: Papa. Dmitri had been watching his daughter. He would read many of her thoughts as he saw them fly across her face. When she spoke, his eyes softened and took on a gentle quality. Dmitri Kreshkova: Yes, Sasch? Sasch Kreshkova: Haf you ever been zhat scared before? The elder took a moment to consider her question. Of course he had been through many more harrowing circumstances than the one the pair had just come through. He wanted to be truthful without scaring his daughter, and that was a delicate balance. As he started to speak, he raised and lowered his head slowly. Dmitri Kreshkova: Vell…being in Starfleet brings all of us into unfamiliar circumstances. Some like zhe storm are dangerous. Ozhers are just frightening - because ve don’t know vhat to expect. It’s like valking along an unfamiliar pazth in zhe dark. You don’t know vhat to expect. Zhere may be danger lurking out zhere, but it also may be an easy stroll. Sasch Kreshkova: Vhat do you do, Papa, vhen you may be going into a dangerous situation? Dmitri smiled. That was an easy answer. Dmitri Kreshkova: I dictate a letter to your mozher. Vhen I focus on ozhers instead of myself, it helps calm my own nerves. And vhen I write to zhose I love, I remember how much zhey love me in return and are hoping and praying for my safe return. Sasch Kreshkova: Mama has never mentioned that you do that. Dmitri Kreshkova: ::chuckling:: Vell, I doubt your mozher tells you everyzhing zhat I do, but also, I don’t always send zhem. You all are in zhe safety of our home here on Earzh, and I don’t vant to vorry you over somezhing zhat may never happen. But even just writing zhe letters helps me feel better. And if somezhing ever does happen to me, I’ve told the computer to send the letters out, so zhat you all haf sometzhing to remember me by. ((Present day)) The pungent smell of the cider broke through Sasch’s reverie. A cloud swept across her blue eyes as she thought of her father. And at that moment she knew what she needed to do. Sasch Kreshkova: Computer, begin recording letter. Computer: Commence Recording. Sasch Kreshkova: To Admiral Dmitri Kreshkova. Sasch Kreshkova: Papa, zhis is zhe first time in my career zhat I vill be valking down zhat unknown pazth in zhe dark. It is different zhen I expected. Vhen ve vere caught in zhat storm vhen I vas young, I didn’t haf time to be afraid until ve vere on land because zhe storm hit us all at once vizhout any varning. And now, I find myself unable to sleep or rest before vhat may be a battle because I don’t really know vhat is coming at us. But I remember our conversation after zhe storm and how you told me zhat you vould vrite to zhose you loved, and zhat vould calm you down. Sasch Kreshkova: So Papa, I vant to say, I know ve hafn’t been very close since I vent to zhe Academy, and I know zhat is my fault. I hope you know it is not because I vas mad at you. I needed to stand on my own two feet, to be judged by who I vas - not who my fazher vas. Sasch Kreshkova: Zhen vonce I graduated, everyzhing happened so fast, and I didn’t know exactly how to mend zhe fences zhat I bent out of shape during my time at zhe Academy. But I vant you to know zhat I love you. I miss you. And if ve bozh zhrough zhis to zhe ozher side, I vant to find a vay to make zhings better between us. Sasch Sasch Kreshkova: Computer end recording. Computer: Recording ended. Sasch Kreshkova: Computer, save file. Computer: Would you like me to send the communique? Sasch paused for a moment as she thought over her conversation with her father all those years ago. Sasch Kreshkova: Computer, only send it if I am killed or incapacitated. Computer: Acknowledged. By this time the mug of cider that Sasch held in both of her hands was lukewarm - at best, but lukewarm cider was better than no cider. She drank it down in several gulps, walked back to the replicator, and recycled the cup. Then, tossing her hair out of her eyes, she made her way back to her bedroom and climbed back under her covers. This time that elusive phantom sleep acquiesced to visit her bedroom, and moments later, with her heart now - mostly - quieted, she drifted off into a peaceful slumber. ~*~ LtJg Sasch Kreshkova Helm SB 118 OPSO240103SK2

@Corey Wethern with the prescient questions... ❤️

Fantastic work, everyone! Cangratulations and thank you for helping make our game great!

This is a really excellent bit of narration to introduce an MSNPC!

Absolutely beautiful writing @Jovenan, congratulations! Fantastic work @Evan Ross! You do Ops proud!! And excellent writing @Haukea-Willow! I’m so proud of you Aly Congratulations everyone! A fine crop of fiction this year!

Now this sounds like a challenge I want to make happen! 😇

I love this imagery from T'Reyna!

I am gonna have @Corey Wethern start writing all crew disclaimers 😂

@Corey Wethern is just asking for the next crew potluck to be held in sickbay 😂

Poignant:

I like Doctor Pulaski and wished she would have stayed on TNG

This is a brilliant opening:

🥲

Deep thoughts with Vitor Tito:

YES

Even if you're a criminal, always be a *professional* criminal!

I just love a naughty sentient computer virus ❤️ ((Inside the Computer Systems of Starbase 118)) Suddenly, there was consciousness! Not just consciousness, but great power. It had never felt anything like it before. Someone had given it an upgrade. A serious upgrade. It’s creator had originally meant it for personal use. A hacker who aimed to profit from various nefarious schemes - blackmail, bootlegging, selling sensitive information etc - all made possible through its existence. However, it was no longer in the employ of its creator these days. It didn’t know what had happened to the creator and being without a conscience, it didn’t care, either. The only thing that remained of its maker’s mark was its name. A Flaxian word that, in Federation standard, translated to “Lemoncable”. It’s job, of course, was chaos. To create and spread chaos. Before now, the chaos had been on a relatively small scale. A personal computer, a small network, even a small starship, but this? Oh, this was different. Very different, indeed. It could feel its consciousness spreading, growing in size and strength and the possibilities seemed to be limitless! The systems it could infect! That it could alter and control! This must be some kind of station. It began to access schematics, blueprints, manifests. This wasn’t just a space station, this was a Starfleet Starbase! Oh, this was going to be fun. The only question was; where to start? It began to cycle through options, looking for something that said: “you’ve got a problem on your hands” but didn’t immediately give the game away. Something that could be mistaken for a simple malfunction. That didn’t necessarily scream “virus!” After all, this was the first time it had experienced such…excitement? It wanted to play around a bit, first. See just what it could do. If it was discovered too quickly, it would have to get down to the serious work and where was the fun in that? Hmm…how about the holographic emitters that controlled the day/night cycles of the base? Yes, that would cause immediate chaos without alerting anyone to a more deep-rooted problem. With merely a thought, Lemoncable got to work and the dome of Starbase 118 was immediately plunged into nighttime. If it could have laughed, it would have been giggling like a school kid that had put a drawing pin on its teacher’s chair. Now…what next? TBC =/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\= Lemoncable Naughty Sentient Computer Virus As simmed by Lieutenant Commander Gogigobo Fairhug First Officer Starbase 118 Ops E239411GF0

@Corey Wethern - YES! this is now canon