Sal Taybrim

Smooth. Very smooth.

Congrats you guys, and good luck on your new adventures!

Congratulations everyone! I hoipe you have wonderful adventures out in the galaxy! Great job!

((Starbase 118, commercial sector)) ::She was finally on an adventure, her second day in Starfleet and already an adventure. Just like she’d always imagined it would be. Nothing could stop her now, nothing but a certain pink hued targ. As she made her way through the ordered streets of Starbase 118, she idly considered if she’d get a medal for her efforts. At the very least a commendation. As images of a giant awards ceremony flashed through her mind, the excitable nurse rounded a corner slightly too quickly and she upended herself. The tricorder flew out of her hand and Hattie found herself spinning along the sidewalk on the back of her shell, only to come to a very sudden stop as she slammed into a firm pair of legs. Her legs flailed slightly, like an upside-down tortoise as she looked up in horror at the very large marine she’d collided with.:: oO Oh no. Oo Kro: ::Holding a hand up toward Gazkra:: It's alright. Hattie: I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Oh god, I’m such an idiot! ::She rolled herself over onto her belly before pushing herself back up to her hind legs, her antennae curled almost entirely around her head in shame. :: Kro: I'm pretty sure I'll recover. Gazkra: You'd better. Or I'm telling Doctor Ezo what you put me up to. ::The Betazoid could be a bit of a terror; Gaz could respect that.:: Hattie: I-I just needed to be fast, in case it got away. I’m really sorry. ::She slowly picked up the battered tricorder from the ground, tears began to well up in her eyes when she realised the already battered device had given its final bleep. She’d really made a mess of things now. Did this count as dereliction of duty? She’d lost all the data! And charged head first into a pair of marines! They could court martial her for that, couldn’t they?:: Kro: ::Putting a comforting hand to her shoulder.:: There there, nothing that cant be repaired. ::Hattie stared up at them, even on her hind legs she was completely dwarfed by most humanoids, these two even more so. It was taking almost all of her concentration not to curl up into a ball and roll away. Then, another thought came to her. Maybe they could help.:: Hattie: ::In a tiny voice:: Are-are you Klingon? Gazkra: ::curtly:: Half. Hattie: ::She swallowed, not sure if what she was about to say could be considered xenophobic:: Does that, ::She coughed and raised her voice to a slightly more audible squeak:: does that mean you know how to catch targs? Kro: ::Eyes widening:: Did you say targs?! ::She visibly shrank backwards, antennae curling and exoskeletal plates bunching up in fear. Her and her big mouth:: Hattie: ::In a panicked yelp:: Sorry! I-I… I didn’t m-mean it in a bad way, just… Kro: No no, you misunderstand. You see we're looking for a targ as well. I don't suppose the one you are hunting is...::An awkward question every time.:: Pink? ::Her antennae perked up and her eyes glittered in the freshly renewed excitement.:: Hattie: It is! ::Her already fast speaking pace seemed to accelerate with each word:: I was meant to be doing the inventory on one of the medical store-room, and then I found something had destroyed all the supplies, so I tried to figure out what happened, and then I noticed a tuft of pink fur, so I put it under the tricorder and found out it was targ, and because I really need to make a good impression for when Doctor Ezo comes back, I thought I’d… ::She stopped to take a long overdue breath, then her face fell.:: Sorry… I-I tend to babble when excited… Kro: ::Looking to Gazkra:: What are the chances? Gazkra: ::shrugs:: It's a big station Kro: Alright, well our trail has ended. Did you see it near here? Or have some idea where it is going? You were in an awful hurry.... Hattie: I do! I worked out how to track it on my tricorder! Let me show you… ::Suddenly remembering the black, cracked screen her face fell.:: Oh… ::Hattie gave it one more hopeful prod with her claw, eliciting a long and static-ridden warble which slowly faded into silence. The death throes of a tricorder had never sounded so sad before.:: Hattie: ::Staring at the floor:: Sorry… Kro/Gazkra: ? Rozera: =/\= Rozera to Kro! Target in sight, sector 52-D. I’m in pursuit. Can you cut her off at the intersection to sector 53? =/\= ::The combadges’ chirp was accompanied by a sharp, excited intake of breath from Hattie. Maybe this would work out after all.:: Kro: =/\= Your sure?! =/\= Rozera: =/\= Affirmative, bacon is on the grill. =/\= ::The sound of her knuckles popping made it over the communicator.::=/\= And the grill is hot. =/\= Kro: oO I like her Oo =/\= Understood. Keep the tongs ready!. =/\= Gazkra: Sir, after this you owe me bacon. ::she rubbed at her sore arm again.:: At least. Kro: ::A wry smile:: You might be right about that. ::Hattie looked between the pair of them, her confusion evident.:: Hattie: Bacon? ::Other than it was apparently grilled, Hattie had no idea what bacon was meant to be, or symbolised.:: Gazkra: Targ first, stories later. ::And alcohol, if she had anything to say about it.:: Kro: Right, lets move! Gazkra: ? ::Hattie dropped to the ground and began to scuttle quickly along behind them, she could have gone faster, but the new nurse still had no idea where they were actually going:: Kro: Stand aside! Marine business! Gazkra: ? ::The group of cadets had only just began to reform as Hattie scuttled past, trying not to upend any of them, they didn’t look nearly as sturdy as the large marine had been.:: Hattie: Sorry! ::She called out as she emerged from the crowd:: Kro: Which way is 53-D?! Gazkra: ? ::She turned suddenly to follow in the new direction, her claws skidding across the floor for purchase, though this time she managed to remain on all 8 limbs, and then she spotted it. That had to be it, bright pink, small, and apparently being attacked by someone wielding a, what did they call them? Tennis rackets? Hattie put on a burst of speed, attempting to make up for the lost ground when she’d turned the corner.:: Hattie: There it is! Gazkra/Pran/Rozera: ? ::She watched in part terror, part fascination as the large marine fumbled, sending the targ soaring into the air. She knew exactly what to do, without thinking Hattie surged forwards, putting on even more speed and readying her limbs to jump. This is exactly what they’d do in her adventure stories, it’d be perfect.:: Kro: Catch that Targ!! Hattie: I’ve got it! ::Unfortunately for Kro, he was in the excitable crustaceans path. She sped along the ground, then onto Kro, and then jumped off him and into the air. Any potential social problems this might cause had long been forgotten.:: ::Hattie’s tail and cyan tassles that constituted a uniform billowed out in cape-like fashion as she sailed through the air, all limbs extended, towards the tumbling targ. Her form about as majestic as an un-shapely brick in freefall.:: oOJust a little bit closer, closer, there!Oo Gazkra/Pran/Rozera: ? ::Hattie grabbed the targs tail with one pincer, pulled it closer to her body and then curled into a ball, the audacious animal safely tucked inside the Nasat’s defensive shell as they hit the ground and rolled for several metres before coming to an abrupt stop on a street lamp.:: ::It was at this point that Hattie realised what a bad idea it was to restrain a struggling targ mere centimetres away from her face. It’s claws were sharp. Hattie let out a loud yelp and unfurled from her ball-state, ending up on her back holding the unhappy creature aloft and trying to turn her head away from its claws.:: Hattie: Help! Someone! Please! ::She called, and then felt a very welcome sensation as the beast was lifted out of her grasp by someone. She let out a long sigh and a quiet:: Thank you. ::as a small trickle of purple blood dripped down her face from the unprotected flesh around her eye.:: ::It was then that Hattie realised she’d just used a superior officer, a marine no less, as a springboard, after already coming close to bowling him over. Mortified, she did the only thing that made sense, curled back up into a ball and hoped nobody would notice her. She was going to be court martialed for sure.:: Gazkra/Pran/Rozera: ? Crewman H8 Blue Nurse Starbase 118 Operations As simmed by: Ensign Phrik, MD Medical Officer Starbase 118 Ops O239308P10

Welcome back to both!

Great, now it's stuck in MY head... >.<

Heeeyyyyy..... (I happen to *love* charred marshmallows...)

Unless you have asbestos underwear.

Promotions, the new form of torture...

Please tell me we're all invited to the wedding...

(courtesy of Taelon) <3

Sports, in a nutshell:

((Cabin #12 - Raskor I - Evening of Kinney's Resignation)) ::It had been one hell of a...Day? Week? Month? She was losing count. After the painfully awkward encounter with Tyler, Mirra's hasty patch job and near sprint of a retreat had been less than ideal. But, once in the Raskor Embassy Medbay, she had plenty to keep her distracted. Ishani had thankfully regained her sight, as expected, and the majority of those who had been in direct path of the flash bomb or phaser fire had been cleared. Dr. Phrik had yet to regain consciousness, and Mirra was lingering to keep an eye on him. While she waited, the news came from Sal, now aboard the Columbia, that with Ambassador Nicholotti's oO As in...Captain Nicholotti? I can't believe it...Oo, witness, Allen Kinney had resigned his commission, effective immediately. It was over. They finally had a win. And it only cost a near assassination. She had no clue the fate of the Angosian Augment, nor did she truly care. As long as it meant she was in the hands of those who knew how to deal with her, and far away from windows, and Mirra. With the hours ticking on, Dr. Phrik regained consciousness. But the vision in his left eye hadn't returned yet. Along with the resident physician, she had ordered a variety of tests. His vitals were steady...but she herself, wasn't. She was exhausted. Weary down to the marrow of her bones. Despite all her protests, she actually began to wobble a bit on her feet and was promptly kicked out of Medbay. Someone had come with a key and a map for her to find her way to the circle of cabins surrounding the Executive Beach house Commodore Kinney had installed several years ago. She shambled her way towards a small, beautiful cabin near the left corner of the outcropping. Raskor I was beautiful. The cabin was whimsically decorated in swirls of light blues and greens, matching the clear sky and gorgeous shore line. She assumed. She was far too tired to appreciate it. She stumbled over the threshold, stripping the ruined dress whites as she went, before collapsing on the over-sized bed at the end of the hallway. Before she passed out, she giggled to herself wondering just when exactly the other eight or so people who would make use of the excessive amount of pillows would show, but ended up crafting a rudimentary pillow cave around herself instead.:: ((((Brief Timeskip - A few Hours later)))) ::Mirra had woken with a start, she was deeply disoriented. Had she fallen asleep in a vat of marshmallow..? Oh, that was the pillows. Sitting up, she looked around at the darkend room. She had been so tired, she must have slept through to the next evening. No, it was just before dawn. What had woken her? She couldn't remember if she had been dreaming, but after attempting to reconstruct the pillow cave, it had clearly lost it's magic. Crawling out, she stumbled into the attached bathroom and caught her reflection in the mirror. It stopped her cold. Her neck was a patchwork of blueish purple from the healing bruises, the bags under here eyes nearly matched the shade. Taking the regenerative bandage off her wrist, the deep bruising extended from her hand to halfway up her forearm. Apparently she had swung harder than she thought. A smirk ghosted the corner of her mouth. oO I punched Allen Kinney. Hard. Oo Glancing back up at her reflection, she gave a satisfied little head nod. Much to her absolute delight, the cabin was equipped with a real, water shower. She had cranked the heat, and stayed in to the point where the complexion of her skin nearly matched the vibrant red of her hair. Finding a large, fluffy robe, Mirra had wondered out to the semi enclosed porch directly through a set of French doors off the bedroom. She settled into a large, almost complicated looking deck chair that had been fashioned to look as if it was made of driftwood and an overly large leaf. It enveloped her like a warm, comfortable cocoon. She was certain whatever the fabric of this chair was, it had to be bewitched. She had never been this comfortable in her life. She was going to stay here, in this chair, until she withered away. She sat, eyes transfixed on the ocean before her, with the twinkling stars above. She had transcended sleep altogether, and transitioned into some sort of dormant state. Completely oblivious to the passage of time, the fading of the stars and the first soft rays of the sun. There she sat, her hair long since dried by the soft, salty sea breeze. Unfazed by the morning opening up around her. She had become one with that deck chair. That was...until she heard footsteps approaching. Lethargically, she moved her head towards the new arrival.:: Ezo: ::tiredly:: Is someone dying or bleeding...? Tatash: Not yet, but the booze has just been opened so it's just a matter of time. ::Slowly, she turned her head back towards the sea.:: Ezo: Oh thank the Gods. I was worried it would require my moving. ::barely gesturing:: This chair and I have come to an understanding. We're one and the same, this chair and I. Tatash: But I made breakfast. ::he nudged his snout towards the dining area:: ::She let out a very disgruntled sound:: Ezo: ::slightly whimpering:: But...the chair, it's accepted me as one of it's own. If I leave now, that's...hours of diplomatic negotiations, wasted. It'll never trust me again. Can you live with that knowledge...? Tatash: Then I officially declare war on the Republic of Chair. Get up and come and have some bacon. Ezo: ::crestfallen:: Well...does it require pants...? ::looking pathetic:: I've become one with the bathrobe too... Tatash: Theo will shade you for eons if you mope about in a robe all day. ::Mirra let out a lamented wail. With exaggerated struggle, she finally freed herself from the confines of her throne of comfort. Her eyes narrowed into near slits:: Ezo: Stay here, and make amends with my chair while I change... -------------------------------------------- Lieutenant Mirra Ezo, MDChief Medical Officer Starbase 118 OpsC239205ME0

I'm pretty sure Starfleet in general frowns upon this, but oh, baby, we're going for it and never looking back!

We were as surprised as you were, Hattie... ::nodnod::

Congrats and welcome (or welcome back) to the fleet!

That's pretty close! But the shortest senior staffer is actually... Trel'lis! Shes just got a big personality so we never think of her as short!

Now I really, really want to figure out how to make one of those height graphics for the crew...

That's OK. Kinney's trying to deserve it ;-)

(( Le Château de Rose - New York District - Starbase 118)) ::Kro sat silently at the secluded candlelit table as he adjusted his infernally uncomfortable collar. He quite liked looking a bit more classy than his normal gruntwear allowed, but it was becoming clear that it came at a price. He quite enjoyed the finer things, but had rare opportunities to enjoy them in person over the course of his military career. His past assignment fighting in the trenches on a backwater planet did not allow him to spend many of his evenings in high class French bistros. He arrived no less than an hour early for their date, as his butterflies were unwilling to allow him respite at the idea that everything might not be perfect. The wine of course he had called ahead to order, as it was best served with several hours to decant. He had attempted to confirm the temperature it would be stored, but they had insisted it would be handled with the utmost expert care. He smiled softly as he watched an elderly couple slow dance on the small dance floor in the middle of the room, enjoying the enchanting french music that rolled smoothly into the dining area. Glancing back toward the entrance to the restaurant his heart skipped a little beat as the lovely Ishani seemed to glide into the room. Her dress was a simple black sheath dress with lace sleeves and matching low black heels. Temporarily mesmerized, he found his composure and moved to meet her, lifting her hand with a smile and giving it a little kiss.:: Kro: Miss Ishani, you look beautiful. Kasun: :: Ishani flushed slightly in pleasure at Kro’s kiss and his complements. How long had it been since she had experienced actual romance? Not since before she joined Starfleet at least. :: Thank you Mister Kro. You look quite handsome as well. ::Moving to their table, he pulled out her seat and let her get situated before returning to his own.:: Kro: It dawned on me after arriving that perhaps the setting is a bit too much. My apologies if the ambiance is not appropriate for a first date. ::He shifted uncomfortably at his own lack of eloquence.:: The truth is I don’t have much experience on the matter. Kasun: I think it’s quite lovely here. :: smiling :: You have good instincts, I never would have guessed. Kro: ::Smiling slightly:: I suppose when I’m charging down corridors with high powered energy rifles I don’t exactly give off the sophisticated gentleman vibe. Kasun: :: chuckling :: I doubt any person would be able to look like a gentleman or a lady under those circumstances. Kro: Unlikely. ::He continued, an amused expression across his features.:: Though I have seen some Vulcans come close. It can be unsettling how calm their expressions can remain even in when under fire. Kasun :: Ishani’s smile flickered slightly at the mention of Vulcan’s under fire. :: oO Poor Dovak. Oo ::He considered her with a worried expression as his comment seemed to briefly darken her features.:: Kro: Are...you alright? Kasun: :: She pushed the memory of his fiery death aside. :: Ah sorry, no I’m fine. :: She took a deep breath. :: One of the engineers on the trip to rescue the Avalon survivors was a vulcan and he didn’t make it back. ::He frowned, the last mission had been so full of death and despair. Definitely not a feeling he wanted to haunt his lovely date with..:: Kro: I’m so sorry, If I had known…::he let himself trail off.:: Kasun: :: She smiled softly. :: It’s alright, you didn’t know. :: They were saved from more awkwardness by the arrival of a youngish looking vulcan woman with what looked to be their menus in hand. Behind her stood a young human man holding a beautiful crystal wine decanter and two wine glasses. :: Fimi: Greetings, I am Fimi and I will be your waiter this evening. :: Fimi set down the menus in front of them as her fellow waiter set down the wine glasses and began pouring. :: Fimi: Byzallian Cirsion. An excellent choice Mr. Kro. ::He gave an appreciative nod and looked back to Ishani with a smile as Fimi moved away.:: Kro: I do hope you like wine. ::He lifted the glass and admired the deep dark shade of purple before bringing it down and taking in its aroma. This is one of my favorites, inspired by the classic Earth Bodegas Roda Vineyard:: Great structure and smoothness. Kasun: I do but I haven't had much time to indulge lately. :: She swirled the wine in her glass before taking a sip. :: Mmm. I agree, this is an excellent wine. Kro: Perhaps a toast is in order. ::He held his glass forward, stars in his eyes.:: What shall we honor tonight miss Ishani? Kasun: :: Smiling :: Hmm, there are so many good options. :: ‘To us’ was a bit to forward at this point and to health seemed cliche. :: To new beginnings perhaps? Kro: ::Grinning:: I like that. Kasun: :: Still smiling she held up her glass. :: Cheers then. Kro: ::Lifting his glass:: To new beginnings. :: Their wine glasses chimed as they brought them together. :: Kro: ::He took a sip and set his glass down.:: Hopefully one with less destruction, but just as much physical contact.. ::Just as he said it, he couldn’t believe he had. His thoughts of the mission had been swirl of darkness and gloom, but somehow the memory of carrying this beautiful woman to safety and fighting to survive together had shined through every time. Leaving him with a smile at nearly every recollection. He supposed the kissing helped too..:: Kasun: Agreed. :: She smiled and took another sip of wine, outwardly ignoring Kro’s freudian slip. Internally, on the other hand, she enjoyed a surge of giddy happiness; it was always nice to have verbal confirmation that the man you’re interested in considers you attractive. :: ::Now sure he was emitting a glow strong enough to guide ships at sea, he pulled at his tightening collar and picked up his menu just as the server re-appeared.:: Fimi: Would you like to place an order with the chef? ::Kro looked to Ishani for confirmation before shifting his gaze back to Fimi.:: Kro: Yes, I would like the Soupe au Pistou. Fimi: Of course. ::She looked to Ishani:: and the lady? Kasun: I’ll have the Soupe à l'Oignon. ::Their order placed, Kro undid his top button and looked to Ishani with a renewed confidence.:: Kro: ::Smiling:: I believe someone promised me dancing? Kasun: Indeed I did. :: Ishani stood up and grasped Kro’s outstretched hand as he led her out onto the dance floor. :: Kasun: It has admittedly been a while since I danced with a partner. I’m afraid I might be a little rusty. :: She was suddenly very glad she had worn low heels . The last thing she wanted was to stumble and ruin the evening by breaking her ankle. :: Kro: ::With kind eyes.:: No need to impress, just follow my lead. ::Finding an open space on the dance floor, Kro placed his hand politely on her hip and offered his open palm with a soft smile. With a matching smile Ishani took his hand and Kro began to lead her through a simple swing dance. :: Kasun: How long have you been dancing? Kro: I’ve always had a deep appreciation, though it took me awhile to get any good at it. Kasun: My father encouraged my interest in dancing when I was a child, though unlike singing my interest in it has waxed and waned over the years. :: Kro pulled Ishani close and spun them both out of the way of another couple’s path. :: Kro: Singing? That is something I would love to hear. It sounds like your father was very supportive. I like him already. Kasun: :: Chuckling, she danced closer to him. :: oO You may or may not like him once you’ve met him. Oo Music and dancing are a large part of the El Aurian subculture my father is part of. I’ve gotten the impression that it would be unusual to not be trained how to sing, dance or play an instrument. Kro: I had quite the opposite experience. Most of my interests I had to keep secret for fear of consequence not only from my peers but from my parents. Kasun: ::Softly :: Why did you need to do that? :: Sadly she probably already knew the answer. She had seen that conflict so many times with her patients; children stuck between two worlds and adults that had repressed their own desires to fit in with their families and cultures. :: Kro: It was a military family in a military town, those traditions were paramount. Anyone interested in useless things like art and dance were considered weak and…::He trailed off and shook his head at the harsh words he didn’t care to repeat.:: Kasun: Oh Kro. :: Her expression sad and empathetic. :: Kro: ::Forming a grin he dipped he dipped Ishani low before pulling her back up. :: The important thing is that I survived to find an elegant, graceful and sophisticated woman willing to dance with me. Kasun: Yes. :: She smiled kindly at Kro and adjusted her grip. :: Your experience is sadly not that unusual, especially if you ignore the military element. Kro: :: Kro swung her away so he only one of her hands. :: It is something I have grown accustomed to, good or bad. Kasun: :: She nodded as Kro whipped her back towards him. :: That issue is common with any society or culture that has rigid roles or cultural norms. Conformity is a big deal and is zealously enforced upon everyone, but especially those who don't fit in or actively rebel against conforming. Kro: It’s nice to be able to discuss it freely. You are very insightful. Kasun: Thank you. I got to see it a great deal in my private practice. Kro: Oh? You dealt a lot with cultural differences? Kasun: Oh yes. :: She was finally beginning to remember enough of the motions of the dance enough that she and Kro were more partners than teacher and student. :: I specialized in hybrid children and adults and it is a common issue with them, especially if their parents’ species have very different cultural expectations. Kro: That is something I have not put much thought into, but it sounds truly fascinating if you are ever willing to discuss your work. Kasun: :: Smiling :: Of course. ::As the music shifted, he led her into a fluid spin. With a little debonair smile, he laid his hand her hip and pulled her a little closer. He had often said that beauty was a reflection of the spirit, a resonance of the person within that was unique to every individual. The more he got to know Ishani, the more intoxicating her found her beauty. Her intelligent and insightful mind doing wonders to beguile him with captivating charm.:: Kro: I hope you do not find my words tawdry Miss Ishani, but I must confess that I find you quite enchanting. Kasun: :: Flushing :: I don’t find it tawdy at all. :: She slid her hand off his shoulder and around his neck. :: Just the opposite. :: Ishani leaned in and kissed him gently. As she pulled away she noticed Fimi heading towards their table with two plates of of soup. Kro followed her lips briefly and smiled at the affection, following her gaze to the food.:: Kasun: Looks like our food is here. Kro: Best served hot. To be continued? Kasun: I wouldn’t mind dancing afterward. Kro: ::Smiling:: Good. ::He took her hand and gave it a gentle kiss before leading her back to the table. The two spent the remainder of the evening completely absorbed in each others company, barely aware of the world outside their table. The conversation came easily, and the laughter was often close behind. As the perfect night drifted to a close, they exchanged a long and meaningful embrace outside Ishani’s quarters before parting ways, only to dream wistfully of their next encounter.:: Ensign Ishani Kasun MD, PhD Crisis Response Unit Starbase 118 Ops O239306IK0 & Lt Commander Antero Flynn Chief Helm Officer Starbase 118 Ops / USS Columbia C239205AF0

Kinney's been hearing that a lot lately... Maybe hearing it from a Fleet Captain will make it sink in this time!

She hit the nail on the head.

Dangerous proposition, this...