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Ben Garcia

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  1. What makes this sim great is how the description of time highlights Alieth's feelings of vulnerability in this emergency situation; it's brought into painful focus with the Olympian effort needed to complete the routine and mundane act of tapping the comm badge. Really neat writing. ((Transporter Room One, Deck One, USS Thor)) Time, occasionally, gave the appearance of dilating and contracting simultaneously, without any particularly significant gravitational alteration, or any obvious anomaly. This fact, of course, had more to do with a sense of urgency and the action of hormones and neurotransmitters on the sympathetic nervous system than with what humans called general relativity, naturally, nonetheless it was a remarkable circumstance. That was one of those moments. As soon as they all fell onto the pads in a haphazard pile, the Commander rose to his feet and leaped towards the transporter controls. Alieth, in the other hand, stood up slowly, very slowly, like moving through a dense, sticky substance instead of thin air. Her eyes remained fixed on the engineer's hands, which seemed to blur over the control panel. Something rolled beside her and halted just next to her leg, and only that was what pulled her eyes off to see Peri's pale face, greyer than usual, her eyes tightly closed. The doctor was just about to kneel beside her to check her status when a voice broke the silence. Greaves: =/\= Captain Greaves to Commander Teller. Sir, I've got a nice warm seat here on the bridge with your name on it. =/\= Peri opened her eyes and Alieth’s gaze darted again to the First Officer. Teller: =/\= Standby Bridge, forgot somebody. Retargeting transporters now. =/\= That was the moment when time seemed to stretch even further. Possibly only a few seconds passed. Even less. Just a breath, long enough time before Mr. Greaves snapped out of his shock and asked the next question. Yet it seemed like minutes. Hours. Decades. Enough time for a seemingly abandoned Zet to plummet to the ground. A quick but painful death. Greaves: =/\= What do you mean we forgot one? =/\= Of course, at this point time sped up, regaining all the momentum it had lost. Teller: Clear the pad, now! They all moved quickly, as gracefully or gracelessly as they could, as the centre of the room began to pulse, to whirr, golden streaks of particles cascading from the emitters in the ceiling. And time, once more, stretched like a rubber band, dilated anew. Alieth turned to the other lieutenant. Before she spoke, she could see every detail of her face, her attentive expression, despite the weariness obscuring her eyes. The tear marks wing had left in the corner of her eyelids. The ridged nose slightly puckered, a tiny freckle over the left cheekbone that she had always noticed but had never had time to observe in detail. It took Alieth a lot of energy to break the spell of that rubbery time and raise her hand to her chest. Squeeze the combadge. It clicked lightly first, before the familiar chirp indicating that the connection had been established rang. Her throat seemed to take centuries to respond to her brain's commands. All that lifetime took just a few tenths of a second. Alieth: Alieth to Main Sickbay, send three stretchers and a trauma team to transporter room one. Salo: =/\= Roger, on route=/\= As soon as the combadge beeped a second time, she turned to her colleague. Alieth: Dr. Quen, what is your physical self-evaluation? Quen: Response Teller: =/\= Volumetric lock established, standby bridge, energizing... =/\= Alieth looked forward again. Without being aware of it, she leaned slightly forward, as the light grew brighter and brighter. And it began to solidify in the centre of the room. The lights flickered faintly. The room filled with the distinct aroma of the Zet metropolis. A long-limbed, spider-like figure curled into herself materialized in the centre of it all, barely an inch away from the reception pad. A breeze that wasn't really there hit them in the face and ruffled the curls that framed the Vulcan's visage. She was there. Nenni was safe. There was a plaintive buzzing sound and the whole complex system seemed to shut down at once. Teller: Doctors, if you're alright, please check on Ensign Katsim and Nenni. I need to...get to the..bri.. The sound caught her off guard. Her first impulse was to rush to help, but she held back for a second. The commander's crooked nose was... REALLY askew. And swollen. And splattered with so much red and purple that it would be worthy of many an artist's abstract expressionism phase. But despite its striking appearance, it did not necessarily look life-threatening. Moreover, Teller had survived a runabout falling on his head and was stubbornly back on his feet just hours later. She was sure she could survive for a few seconds while they sorted out the situation. Greaves: =/\= Response =/\= Alieth: =/\= We have her, we are all here. There will be a report on bridge in two minutes, but, effective immediately, Commander Teller is relieved of duty per medical advice. (Beat, concealing relief.) You are still in command, Captain Greaves. =/\= Greaves: =/\= Response =/\= As she was speaking, both of her teammates had lost no time and leaned over the crumpled Zet, appraising her condition.With that front covered, the Vulcan approached the collapsed first officer and crouched beside him. Katsim: Are you okay? Nozku/Quen: Response No sooner had the tiny CMO accomplished her movement when an arm rose up from behind the transporter control station, followed by a plaintive cough. Teller: =/\= Bridge...Transport..Successful. Red...Alert.... =/\= Greaves: =/\= Response =/\= Alieth: =/\= Indeed, mister Greaves =/\= At that moment, the room doors hissed open, the Orion nurse and the rest of the trauma team carrying the triage equipment as well as several floating stretchers. Soon, the entire team was examined, Nenni and Teller carefully positioned on stretchers, cortical monitors attached to their foreheads or temples. Alieth: (After pressing a hypospray on the side of the young hybrid's neck) Ensign Katsim, I would like you to report on the bridge to explain what has happened to Captain Greaves. (Turning to Deena) Dr. Quen, you are welcome to accompany her to provide your eyewitness account as well, but I will need you in sickbay soon for a reconstructive surgery. Katsim/Quen (optional Nozku/Teller): Response Alieth nodded silently before turning back to Malak. Alieth: Nurse, make sure that they reach the sickbay in good condition and, most importantly, that none of them attempt any foolishly bold attempts to make their way to the bridge. Adventure is over for the day for them. Salo: (Smiling broadly and winking ostentatiously) Of course, ma'am, even if I have to strap them to the stretcher. Perhaps there was some protest. Or an incoherent babble. But Alieth ignored them and escorted both stretchers out of the room, her attention focused on the welfare of both patients. She could only look out for them at that moment, the conclusion of the mission in the hands of Captain Kells and the staff on the bridge. But she trusted them, she had shared so much with that crew and had learned that she could rely on them. Delegating was a skill, one that every officer had to learn at some point, even if some did it sooner than others. As she entered hastily in the turbolift and the door hissed shut behind her, the Vulcan realized something: Time had resumed its usual pace and rhythm. [[Tag! & End of the Scene for Alieth]] ================================= Lt. Alieth Chief Medical Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 E239702A10 Image Collective Co-Facilitator /Art Director =================================
  2. This made me spit my tea out - such a big, diplomatic build up and immense reverence ... and fishing. 😛
  3. Haha - I like the counsellor's combat style ... but you know we'll all be psychoanalysing Brodie's keystrokes now
  4. This is the best line! If there was one line to sum up the Immortals and their way of life this would be it!
  5. I went for Farpoint - because it was scary as hell when I first watched it! However - this dialogue is class - I can see Ricker's face now 😆
  6. The Temporal Cold War - I think it'd be great to see more of the sci-fi mechanics and the boggling paradoxes 🙃
  7. Thanks Cap! Note that nothing has crashed so far! 😆
  8. Tough choice. Came down to Voyager or Enterprise. Ten Forward just kept calling my name!
  9. A feast of a JP from the Thor's junior officers! 😍 An imaginative scene full of mischief and good humour - it's great to see the characters off shift ... getting up to no good! Cannot wait for this to play out. "Pranking The Brass" ((Captain’s Ready Room, Deck 1, USS Thor)) Peri was going to owe Cassie big time. Although she’d already traded shifts with her once, this was going to cost her more, and Cassie wasn’t the type to forget it. At least she had found some humour in the plan, and seemed willing to help them out, for which Peri was grateful. The question was, were they going to get caught? And if they did, what would happen? The young ensign tried really, really hard not to think about that. At least Cassie was willing to make sure they got access to the Ready Room, though how Peri didn’t know. She probably didn’t want to know. All that she knew was that they’d be able to get in and take care of what they wanted to take care of. Alieth had been there when Peri had thought of it, but she had also asked Wes if he would come along. The more hands they had, the faster they would go, which meant they would be less likely to get caught. Making her way through the halls, Peri clutched the bag which contained everything they would need, though she couldn’t help but glance around. It was the middle of the night, so most of the people were just night shifters, but...could they tell? Did they know she was up to no good? Oh shards, she hoped not. As she approached the office, she saw two other familiar forms arrive at the same time. Peri managed a brief if nervous smile. One more glance was given, then, after making sure no one who wasn’t in the know was around, she turned and stepped up to the doors of the ready room. Like magic, they parted. With a squeak, Peri darted in, motioning for her accessories to hurry in with her so they wouldn’t be seen in the hall. When the doors closed behind them, she sighed. Katsim: Computer. Lights. Immediately, they turned on, and Peri set the bag on a chair and unzipped it. Katsim: Um. Alieth...could you stand at the door and...you know, maybe listen? Just in case? Or would it be better to be outside? Vulcans had superior hearing, so she knew Alieth would be able to listen through, but would it be better to see? Could Alieth somehow provide cover for them if she were outside? Peri was definitely not cut out for Intelligence. Alieth: I think it is better that I stay here if I must act as a watchman :: Tilting her head :: If I stand in the middle of the corridor in front of the captain's office, arms crossed, I guess it would be mildly suspicious. Her tone, of course, was solemn and circumspect, yet as she settled down by the door, one of her pointed ears pressed against the wall to listen to the corridor's shenanigans, she glanced sideways at Wes, a glint in her eye. All that prank fuss was proving to be massively entertaining. Inside the bag were a ton of streamers and other supplies that Peri had replicated. She’d used up a week’s allotment for them, but hopefully it would be worth it. Offering a roll to Wes, she pointed to the desk. From the bag, she also retrieved a PADD. During the planning, she realised that it was likely any PADD of the captain’s would be securely locked, so she took one of the standard PADDS that wasn’t associated with a specific person. The message had been set, now they had to implement the plan. Katsim: Wes, if you could help me attach the streamers. I’ll get the PADD on the ceiling. That was a feat only achievable by the mere fact that the desk was tall enough that if Peri climbed on it, she could actually touch the ceiling. Wes leaned against the bulkhead near the door and crossed his arms. With a smile and a shake of the head, he watched the Ensign work. Greaves: Not a chance. I’m just here to observe, and maybe offer some constructive criticism. This is all your prank. Alieth moved her face away from the wall briefly to glance at her friend, who was displaying his best smug face and his keen skill at standing idle without making a move. A very vulcan skill, as far as she was concerned. Katsim: Oh. The poor ensign's response only made the Vulcan woman strive to remain circumspect. Neither she nor Wes were making it easy for Alieth. Peri had thought that when he said he’d come that he’d be willing to help. She hadn’t realised….quickly she ducked her head, a blush lightly brushing across her cheeks as she climbed upon the desk to work on tacking the PADD onto the ceiling. Wes glanced toward Alieth, and their eyes met. He knew that she was a touch telepath, but sometimes he could swear that she could read thoughts without that pesky requirement. Alieth: Since the primary purpose of the JOPA is to assist junior officers, it might not be unreasonable to help her. :: bowing her head and narrowing her eyes somewhat :: furthermore I reckon that the Ensign has aimed high enough with her prank to receive the help of those long arms of yours And maybe after that and just for the Marine's eyes she stuck out her tongue. But just a little. And just quite quickly. Greaves: (Laughing) Alright, alright. You’re right. It’s a pretty ballsy plan anyway. Let’s get it over with. A sense of relief washed over Peri. The more people working, the faster they finished, the less likely they were to get caught. That was the last thing she wanted to happen - especially for Alieth and Wes. Grabbing one end of the streamers, Wes stood on a chair near the wall and connected it to the wall. As he turned to reinforce the connection, his foot nearly slipped as the seat rocked. Peri glanced over at Wes as he began to work with the streamers. The little nodes they would attach had been something Peri had thought of later. With Cassie’s help, she’d gotten them synced up with the message. Once the PADD was taken down, the message would play, the nodes would explode and send confetti and glitter throughout the entire room. The whole place would turn into a rainbow of glittering colours. The Vulcan stood by the wall again and observed them carrying out their tasks, doing what she knew best: being a perfectionist. Alieth: It is a touch crooked in the middle. Four and a half degrees to be exact. As she said this, the two officers on the table leaned dangerously, in a more than unstable balance on one of the edges of the desk. Katsim: Be careful… Greaves: I’m fine. Alieth, help me out with the other side of these things. Peri, are you almost done with that padd? Alieth: Of course The doctor left her position of watchman by the wall for a while, but before joining the group on the desk, she took a small detour towards the door to lock it. Of course, anyone with a higher security clearance level than her (therefore, any senior officer) could override her lock and open the door, but that little protection would save them from most prying eyes. Katsim: I’m done. Carefully, Peri climbed down from her perch on the desk and grabbed another roll of streamers from the bag. The satiny, red material shone slightly under the lights. Taking a second box of tacky stuff with which she would attach it, she pushed the captain’s chair over to the far corner opposite of Wes and climbed up, starting on that part. Katsim: Don’t forget to twist them… That made the streamers a little prettier, and it would help them determine how far apart to set the nodes. Carefully, she attached the end of that streamer, then clambered down from there. Walking around the desk, she dragged one of the visitor’s chairs toward the opposite corner diagonal from where she was. Once there, she climbed again, stepping on her tip toes, wobbling a bit, then attaching a streamer there. Greaves: Twist them? Are you kidding? It’s a prank, not a birthday party. Despite his misgivings, Wes hastily complied and began twisting the streamers in his hands as suggested. While twisting the streamers according to Peri's example, Alieth addressed an issue about which she had always been intrigued. Alieth: It always caught my attention that you humans have so much penchant for celebrating the anniversary of your own birth. What exactly is the event worth celebrating? If it was the nativity itself, you had little merit in it and your progenitors should be the real honorees. The Marine stopped twisting the streamers and looked at Alieth with a raised brow. Of all the things that Vulcan’s usually critiqued, now she was attacking birthdays? Greaves: (shaking his head) It’s a celebration of your personhood. Of your existence. It’s an excuse for friends and family to share their appreciation of you. You don’t have any similar celebrations on Vulcan? From that perspective the celebration made more sense, but it was still highly unproductive for the Vulcan. If at least it was a rite of passage... Alieth: Of course not, the completion of a circumambulation around Eridani A is hardly noteworthy. Moreover, given the disparity between stardates and the years of individual planets, such anniversaries are meaningless. Greaves: Alieth, have you ever heard the term, buzzkill? Alieth: Yes. From you, on our first day at the Embassy. And on exactly eight occasions after that. Also from you. Still a word that has no meaning, though. I have never killed any buzz. Peri simply nodded and continued in her work. That corner done, she scooted over to the middle of the wall on the opposite end, trying to mirror and reverse what Wes was doing with his roll. Greaves: I’m sure the bridge crew are starting to wonder why we came in here. Let’s try and wrap this up before someone comes asking questions. For a moment the Vulcan interrupted what she was doing and pivoted slightly towards the door. As far as her keen ears could ascertain the only thing that she could hear was the gentle and everlasting hum of the vessel and a hoarser and rougher sound stationary on the bridge. If it wasn't a behaviour inconceivable in a starfleet officer, Alieth would have sworn that someone on the bridge was snoring blissfully. Alieth: I heard naught.... although haste in this situation is not farfetched. At that point, Wes and Peri met in the middle. She paused, pondering, then dipped down to go under the streamer in his hand to weave hers beneath, then aimed for the other side of the wall. By then, the streamers were low enough that they didn’t need the chairs any longer. Criss cross, applesauce, over, around, back, through, all over the room the streamers began to weave a web, one that Peri easily navigated and, with a glance at Wes, one that didn’t really hinder him as well. With the Captain’s height, however, he would certainly either have to do some fancy maneuvering, or just plow through them. Peri’s lips tickled upward. That would also detonate the nodes. Eventually, the streamers were depleted, but now they had to go back and attach the nodes. She had been fearful that attaching them beforehand might prove problematic, either with detonation, or the sticky stuff sticking to each other and folding up the streamers. It just seemed to be easier to attach them after they were hung. Each node had already been attached to a piece of the sticky tack, then placed into boxes to prevent them from attaching to anything else, then separated by thin dividers that were of a material that the tack wouldn’t stick to. She handed one to Wes, then made her way to the innermost corner. Preemptively, Alieth moved to her original position next to the door. From there, the husky noise was even more noticeable. Certainly, it SEEMED to be a snore. Greaves: Doesn’t look like there’s enough to just slap these on wherever we want. Did you have a plan for how far spaced out they should be? Katsim: Every...third or fourth curl I guess. Thus she set to work, grateful that they had decided to help after all. Such work would have taken so long if she’d been left by herself to do it all . Except for Cassie who wasn’t available because she was on shift at that time, Alieth and Wes were the only two she felt like she could really call friends. Attaching the nodes went a little faster, and finally, Peri found herself in the outermost corner where Wes had dragged one of the visitor’s chairs. Starting at the bottom, she added nodes to the layers, then climbed upon the chair to attach one to the upper most curl of the top streamer. Reaching up, she fiddled with the node, which decided to stick to her finger instead of the streamer. Pulling hard, she managed to get it to release her skin and adhere to the fabric. Unfortunately, the streamer decided it didn’t want to stick. Peri caught it, then attempted to stick it back on the highpoint of the wall. That corner had originally been Wes’. The streamer had originally been placed a little higher than the one she’d hung on the opposite side of the door, so she couldn't quite reach. After two vain attempts, Peri glanced down, placed one foot on one arm, then the other foot on the opposite one and lifted herself up. That did it. She managed to affix the streamer once more. As she stepped down, however, the chair decided enough was enough. It swiveled. Peri swiveled with it. Peri then stopped swiveling and tumbled over the side of the chair and into the doors of the room. Attentive as she was to the intriguing sound in the bridge, Alieth failed to see the fall coming. She only saw a blur next to her head, which triggered her reflexes and made her leap backwards out of Peri's trajectory. When she realized what had happened, she regretted her sudden move immediately. She could have done something to prevent that fall. Two cracks resounded in succession as head and arm slammed forcefully against the doors, which then parted to let her slide down to the floor. Pain lanced through her arm and her head. Her mouth opened, a cry following a gasp and she curled up in an attempt to retreat from the hammers and daggers that struck at her arm and head. As the woman fell, Wes nearly lost his own footing, and he flailed his arms widely to keep his balance. The moment stretched out until just as Peri collided with the door, he finally got his footing under control. Greaves: Crap. There’s no way they didn’t hear that out there. Peri, you okay? The doctor knelt swiftly beside the ensign, holding her face between her hands to ensure she did not move her neck, just in case. When her slender fingers touched the slightly greyish skin, a pang of pain leaked into the vulcan mind. Peri writhed at the touch, another cry escaping despite her attempt to be quiet. Alieth: I know it hurts, but I need you to stay still :: with gentleness, she moved her fingers over the nape of her, so suddenly, patient, seeking something out of place.:: Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous? Dizzy? Oh yeah. Nausea? Peri couldn’t think clearly enough to say whether or not she was nauseous. Her head was ringing, the loud crash of a gong unwilling to silence, and despite Alieth’s gentle admonishment, she couldn’t help but jerk away from the Vulcan’s touch. That only made matters worse, as the world, which had already begun to spin, lurched and tumbled upside down. The only verbal answer Alieth received was a long, low groan. Wes hopped down and jogged to the pair of women. Greaves: You have a tricorder on you Alieth? How bad is it? She shook her head, in a negative statement. Alieth: I certainly did not anticipate that I would need it. :: She gazed at the marine sideway:: Give me a moment to examine her. Her fingers kept moving around the back of her neck. As she did so, the Vulcan conveyed some of the calm she had nurtured, trying to placate the emotions that had taken hold of Peri. As the doctor's fingers completed their journey from the base of her skull to her shoulders without finding anything troubling, she finally pulled her hands away and focused on the arm that Katsim held tightly against her chest. Alieth: :: in a soft, reassuring tone:: Can I take a look on it? The telepathic touch was odd. Not odd as in bad, just as in Peri hadn’t ever felt something like that before - yet she immediately recognised that Alieth was connecting with her somehow. Oh yes...Vulcans. Telepathic. If they touched you. That sort of managed to sift its way through the hammers that continued to batter her head. She didn’t /want/ Alieth to take a look. She wanted the pain to go away. Greaves: Alright, we need to get out of here before someone comes around wondering what the racket is. I think I can modify the logs so it doesn’t look like we were here and give us a site to site transport straight to sickbay. The doctor paused what she was doing and nodded briefly. Alieth: To the secondary one, Doctor Quen is working on the main. He stood and moved around to the Captain’s desk. Tapping quickly on the desktop computer Wes found that Captain Kells had remained logged on. He grinned at the good fortune and, using the Captain’s account, encrypted the sensor logs for the room for five minutes before and after the set-up. Finally he set the password ‘ G1TT3RB0MB’, and set up the transport. Meanwhile, Alieth had removed the jacket of her uniform and made a temporary sling that clutched Peri's arm to her chest. Without the protection of the garment, only protected by the under-shirt, the Vulcan suppressed a chill.Certainly the temperature of starships was not made to Vulcan standards. Even less so for those like Alieth, a native of one of her homeworld's equatorial regions, near one of the biggest deserts. If it were her choice, the starship would be kept at least at a comfortable 35 °C (95 °F). Alieth: I want you to hold still, okay? I suspect you have broken your ulna, and I do not intend to let the fracture slide. Hold still? Peri’s automatic response to pain was usually the opposite. One of the way she coped was by movement, almost as if she were trying to circumvent the pain, or distract her body from it with motion. Usually, though, she didn’t have to contend with a head that felt like it was a supernova ready to explode. Movement actually made things worse. Greaves: Alright, we’re set. Alieth: At your mark, Wes. Greaves: (Snapping fingers) Mark. And so, as the footsteps echoed down the corridor, with the somnolent night shift rushing to check what was going on, the three JOPA members vanished in a brief swirl of sparks, without leaving behind any trace that they had been there. Except, of course, for the prank. ((Secondary Sickbay, Deck 18, USS Thor)) In the blink of an eye, the three of them appeared in the medical ward. The deck was virtually empty, with only a couple of nurses enjoying a game of poker in a deck on a corner and an engineer who was in observation attempting to sleep in one of the cubicles in the far end, unsuccessfully due to the cold, clean white light that lit up the entire chamber. Alieth: Ok to that biobed with you, and most importantly, do not move that arm. Greaves: Psh, there’s no bone sticking out, she’s probably okay. (Wink). Alieth halted for a second and with a new thought in mind, turned to face the marine. Alieth: Even better, Wes, could you carry her in your arms? Miss Katsim you just hold that arm tightly. He frowned at the Vulcan and looked about. Sure, they were a couple dozen meters from the nearest bed, but it was her arm that was hurt. Not the woman’s legs… still, if she’d hit her head hard enough… Wes was no stranger to the dizzying nausea that accompanied a strong blow to the head. Without further hesitation, he closed the distance to the petite frame of Peri and from her uninjured side, scooped her up in his arms. Cradling her with one arm under her legs and the other under the small of her back, he exhaled with the effort. Peri squeaked, but she really wasn’t in any condition to resist. Pink flew to her cheeks even as the world spun about her. Now it was nausea’s turn to make its appearance and her stomach churned along with everything else. Cringing, she attempted to not let the combination of pain, queasiness, and embarrassment overwhelm her. Once he was standing upright, she was surprisingly light. Greaves: Oh calm down, it’s easy enough. Doctor’s orders anyway. He crossed the room to the nearest biobed and gently set her down on the edge of it. Though that didn’t help any of the stabbing pain or calm her angry stomach, Peri was grateful not to be subject to the rather mortifying position of sack of potatoes any longer. The doctor scanned her meticulously and remained mute for a long time, a time that became as thick as molasses. As the results flickered on the device side screen, she frowned briefly. Alieth: humm She raised her head to look at her friend and shook it slightly. Alieth: There is little to be done, Mister Greaves, a hopeless case. Greaves: How bad is it? Alieth: Apart from a longitudinal fracture in the ulna, I am convinced that we are dealing with a fatal case of an owie. There is nothing to be done, unfortunately, I have run out of doggie plasters. The Vulcan shook her head in feigned grief. Greaves: Good. I’m pretty sure Commander Teller would put us all on permanent groundskeeping duty if he found out a crewmember got seriously injured while pranking the Captain. Alieth: Five minutes of bone regenerator and she will be ready to be back on duty. Good? How was that good? That wasn’t good at all! Granted, her injuries might be ‘minor’ in the grand scheme of things, but that didn’t make things better. Of course she would manage to injure herself. Of course she would manage to make a fool of herself. All she had wanted to do was to rise up to the task given to her, and she couldn’t even fulfill that properly. As the pain faded thanks to the administrations of the miniature Vulcan doctor, Peri had to silently wonder if it was all worth it. [End] ================================= Lt. JG Alieth Medical Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 Author ID number: E239702A10 Image Collective Minion & First Lieutenant Wes Greaves Marine Detachment Commander USS Thor - NCC 82607 E239702WG0 & Ensign Katsim Science Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 M239008AD0
  10. Cheers Alieth, that's really kind and it's so good to be back with the team
  11. Like a lucky bag - who knew those Vulcans had a sense of adventure? 😛
  12. Tea. Lukewarm is fine. Special occasions, include cake. On a side plate, not in the mug 😛
  13. Hi and welcome! SB118 is a great place to write and geek out on Trek. There's a variety of vessels in operation and each has a stellar crew! Hopefully you've found our discord too!
  14. Good point! Is there a secondment scheme? I'd be interested to hear if so! 😛
  15. I felt compelled to vote warp drive ... but a little voice inside me said no. No, it has to be the Universal Intuitive Mood Lighting (UIML). Need a red alert? Red back lighting and pulse bars already on it. Telling an end of mission joke? Soft, pearl bridge lighting sets you up. Unsure what's going on, but want to sty true to the Prime Directive - saw that coming, that's why UIML set the mood to curious but cautious egg yellow. Then there are the doors - imagine life without that swish.
  16. As a HCO officer, I dig procedural sims - it's great to see how the ship ticks over. This post by our talented Chief Engineer @Sirok and mighty marine @Wes Greaves ticks lots of boxes for me. I like the inter-departmental collaboration, the fact that we see a team struggle to get the basics right and two department leads having to figure it out for the benefit of the ship! Nice one! ((Marine Quarterdeck, Deck 9, USS Thor)) The quarterdeck was oddly quiet for being mid-morning on a duty day. Hannibal’s reassignment had been abrupt and equally as shocking to the Marines as the move to the Thor. Despite the ever present need to train, the detachment had gathered to give the Major the proper send off he deserved before his departure. For yet another morning after their last mission, Wes regretted the alcohol related decisions of the previous night. Come to think of it, most of the detachment was probably regretting the choices of the previous night. Wes whistled softly to himself, and immediately stopped as the piercing noise caused a shooting pain in his head. Reading a training report on his padd, he was enjoying the abnormal quiet of the quarterdeck. The Marines were hardly rowdy in the near sacred room, but it was uncommon to be able to hear the dull hum of the engines so clearly. The man was lost in his own thoughts, no longer focused on reading the words on the device, when a notification caused the padd to beep and vibrate softly. Puzzled upon receiving a message from the newly appointed Chief Engineer, Wes opened the communique and read through it quickly. Wes looked up from the padd and gave a mental shrug. Now was as good of a time as any to run such drills. Well maybe not this specific moment, with most of the detachment hung over. Regardless, most of the crew would be in reduced working hours or off ship. The officer looked up across the quarterdeck to the empty office once occupied by Major Parker. The reassignment had been so sudden, no one had spoken to Wes about the change of command. He was reluctant to occupy the office intended for the Detachment Commander until someone told him he was the new boss. Even so, Wes was the ranking Marine aboard the ship now, and as Commander of Troops, it was his call to make. ((Main Engineering, Deck 20, USS Thor)) Sirok was waiting in engineering for Greaves. The activity in the huge chamber seemed to be what it should be. All the repairs had only been completed a few days ago. They had been exhausting. After them, the engineers had had to take mandatory shifts, including the chief engineer, in order to get back to normal, physically and mentally. Once the repairs were completed, the space in the cargo bays where the Azcou and the colonists had been, could also be fully recovered. Therefore, the cargo bay the Marines had assigned themselves had to be shared. At the time Ensign Sirok simply told him that given the small space of a starship it was practically impossible for anyone to be assigned such a large space. For the same reason he had to talk to the captain one day about the bowling alley, it was totally illogical from the point of view of the available space. Sirok: Lieutenant Greaves, welcome. ::Without further preamble or ceremony, the Vulcan turned on his holographic table, displaying a three-dimensional map of the ship.:: Wes smirked as the chief offered a greeting. Greaves: Nice display you’ve got there. Excited to see me? Wes wasn’t surprised that his friend decided to ignore the joke and he listened attentively as the Vulcan dove directly into business. Sirok: To simulate a situation in which your men are deployed, I have chosen a yellow alert situation, which will turn red once the simulation begins. It's practically impossible to know where they might be in a normal situation, some in their quarters, recreational or training areas. So I think it's best to start in a controlled situation. Greaves: A logical decision. Wes studied the holographic layout of the ship. The Vesta class really was large, and the detachment was just a drop in the bucket that was the manpower of the ship. There was no way they could cover even a portion of the vessel’s emergency responsibilities themselves. The moment struck Wes with the weight of the need for teamwork in the bleak hostility of space. Sirok: The engineering team is distributed near the most important locations, shield control, deflectors, weapons controls, thrusters... You can see it on the map. Unless the command officers order otherwise due to circumstances. As you know, security usually sets up teams on different decks, to protect key locations. Greaves: Right. They’ll make sure that no unauthorized personnel are about, and defend the critical ship functions are protected in case of being boarded. Sirok: I do not know the deployment of your men in a situation like this. Reinforcing security work and a strike team on standby in case they have to go after a target? Wes turned inward in thought and crossed his arms as he wracked his memory. Honestly, the precise reactions in the different alert states needed review as they hadn’t been discussed in detail since the Thor was an auxiliary vessel to the Embassy and most the Marines were assigned to the Thunder-A. For not the first time, he missed Major Parker’s expertise and experience. He tried to remember how they did it back on the U.S.S. Hood when he was there. Greaves: If I remember the S.O.P. right, during yellow alert the Marines report to the armory and don combat gear. On red alert, the squad on duty sets up as a quick reaction force on the quarterdeck. They are responsible for repelling boarders or rushing to emergency locations. The other squad reports to main security to reinforce their positions. Sirok: I will set up the teams for the simulation as you say. ::The Vulcan started typing on the console and the marine teams showed up in the yellow alert simulation.:: Greaves: We could rewrite our procedures so our medic reports to sickbay and our combat engineer leads the fighter maintenance personnel as damage control teams. Wes paused as he turned the idea over in his mind more. Greaves: Actually, it might be better to keep the medic with the reaction force as an emergency trauma team. . . Regardless, that’s a discussion to have with our medical department. Our combat engineer is the perfect leader for a damage control party. Sirok: I do not know how many doctors you have but I would keep them distributed near their equipment. Except in an extremely serious situation, the infirmary should be able to proceed very quickly. In many cases your medics should not even give them time to stabilize the patient if the transporter is available. But as you said, it would be better to coordinate with Dr. McKenzie. ::Sirok spoke as he entered the data to place the teams as Wes had said in red alert.:: Sirok: As far as your combat engineer is concerned, their knowledge should be taken very seriously by the teams they are on. Greaves: Agreed. So what were you thinking for drills? It’d probably be smart to start with some classes and demonstrations on the appropriate tools and responses before we dive into some full scale drills. Sirok: It would be convenient. I would start by teaching them the operation of the systems closest to the areas to which they are sent. Security protocols for the most common damages and ways to disconnect that system and to switch it to the secondary if it has not been achieved remotely. Obviously in that process they would be taught how to use the necessary tools and where to find them on the ship. Wes nodded along as Sirok described his plan of attack and made his own mental notes on how best to organize the classes before turning to some live drills. ((Training Holosuite C, Deck 9, USS Thor)) It was a strange feeling to step out of the quarterdeck, walk down the hall, and then step into a holographic representation of the same quarterdeck. Immediately upon starting the simulation Wes determined he did not like it. It was disorienting. How could he even know if he ever left the holodeck if the simulation looked and felt exactly like being aboard the ship. Wes visibly shook his head to clear the thought. Surrounding him and anxiously chatting with each other were seven Marines in full equipment. The lighting of the simulated room was normal, but diodes built into the walls gently flashed yellow indicating the alert status of the ship. This was going to be their first try at a damage control simulation after Sirok’s classes and Wes was sure the chief engineer was going to be putting his Marines through their paces. For their part, the teams talked amongst themselves and watched the officers calmly. At least as long as they thought Sirok wasn't listening to them. Sirok: We are on yellow alert, move on. :: Sirok: It was hard to tell if the Vulcan was saying it in an informative way or half a lecture, because of his monochordly tone. :: At the sound of the Vulcan’s voice, Wes and most of the Marines turned to face the Vulcan. Sirok: For the purposes of this training I will not act as chief engineer, someone must supervise. We can use a more impartial arbiter later, perhaps Commander Teller. Given our current area of operation on the Thor, it simulates a battle with tzenkethi ships. Greaves: Sounds like as good of a plan as any. Let’s get started. Wes turned to the group of Marines and began addressing them. Greaves: Alright, here’s the deal. We just hit yellow alert while in Tzenkethi space. Per the regs, you all were on duty and raced to the quarterdeck, geared up. What happens next is on you, and the simulation. Take Chief Sirok’s classes to heart, and we’ll do just fine. ::motioning to Sirok and himself:: We’ll be monitoring your progress from here. Any questions? Wes looked about the room at the assembled group. Aside from a few glances, and one imperceptible comment in the back, no one made any indication of wanting to speak. Greaves: Very well then. Computer, begin simulation. Immediately the room shook as if the Thor had taken a violent impact and the yellow flashing lights on the walls shifted to an angry red. Wes shot a dirty look toward the Vulcan who designed the training simulation. Greaves: oO He’s not giving us any down time in this sim Oo All the rooms turned red followed by the alarm buzzing indicating that the ship was on red alert. Sirok: Now everyone must go to the designated red alert stations. :: The Vulcan had configured the simulation so that the physical effects of the simulation would not affect him, so that when the ship had a first shock, he stood still, like a column, looking at his padd. He had never looked so much like an artificial being as he did at that moment. :: Another teeth rattling tremor rocked through the room and the Marines looked back and forth between one another, not exactly sure what to do. Sirok looked up from his padd when he noticed that the Marines were not moving. Sirok: If you studied the documents that have been administered, you should be able to know where you have to go. If you have not, think, act logically. But move on. ::He looked at Greaves in case he wanted to add anything else.:: Wes didn’t exactly shout, although his voice was no longer at a conversational volume. His face and body language wasn’t that of a furious man, but he obviously was not relaxed. His words and his posture suggested something else altogether. Something that the assembled group had no desire to discover the true meaning of. Greaves: It’s not play time. You’re Starfleet Marines and your ship is under attack. Do something. It was obvious the group hadn’t studied or prepared for the exercise and cold rage burned within Wes’ chest. He had a certain style of leadership that centered on mutual respect. He treated all of his subordinates like the grown men and women they were, and he expected them to adhere to their responsibilities as such. The obvious lack of preparation was a spit in his face and Wes intended to correct that attitude following the simulation. Fortunately, a few of the group had studied, and they quickly took charge, snapping the trainees out of their stupor and into action. Within a few seconds, the simulated quarterdeck emptied for all but Sirok and Greaves. The Marines broke off into two teams and scattered across the holographic recreation of the ship. Sirok: Both teams are far behind their designated position. They're not taking the optimal route. :: He shook his head slightly, foreseeing what would happen.:: Greaves: :Stroking his chin:: Seems so. It’s pretty obvious they aren’t even remotely ready for this duty yet. ::gazing off into the distance:: Oh, we’re going to play games after this... Sirok raised his eyebrow at Greaves' comment. Sirok: I just think they have decided not to read the protocols properly. Immediately after his comment, a huge impact was felt on the simulation.The Vulcan waved his hand from his padd to one of the walls, where the contents of the padd were projected. In the large projection, a diagram of the Thor could be seen, with colored dots showing the position of the Marine and engineering teams. A yellow area of the ship was shown on Decks 4 and 5, due to the impact of a Tzenkethi weapon. Wes tapped a few buttons on a nearby wall console, and holographic screens appeared to either side of the diagram of the Thor. After a brief pause, the floating screens faded from a dark gray into a video feed of the yellow indicated area. A long corridor stretched off screen, with the camera focused in on an intense blue and yellow jet of flame just outside of a turbolift. From what Wes could gather, his best guess was a ruptured EPS conduit. Greaves: Here comes the first big challenge. Let’s see if they remember how to deal with this. Sirok: At the moment they don't seem to know what to do. ::He touched the padd a couple of times to save that precise moment, for later evaluation.:: The screen showed the damage control team approaching the inferno. Now clad in heat resistant EV suits, the Marines of the ad hoc team attempted to spray flame retardant on the EPS rupture. Sirok: They are only delaying the real problem, they must go to the panel in the next section to make the derivation. Greaves: ::Shaking his head in disappointment:: Yup. They didn’t pay attention at all. The ship took another big jolt, this time the damage was to the secondary hull. Closer to the antimatter containers. Apparently the battle was not going well for the Thor. Sirok: So far the damage would only cause some personnel casualties and damage to secondary systems, but if they don't help contain the problems near the antimatter, the simulation will be over. Greaves: Agreed. They’re not going to put out the fire from that EPS conduit until they redirect the flow anyway. If they don’t start thinking…. Wes trailed off as he watched the pair of video screens. While the left most screen continued to surveil the team battling the raging inferno on deck five, the other monitor clearly showed another Marine damage control team approaching the antimatter storage tanks. The teams approached the danger without hesitation, perhaps because they knew it was a simulation. But there was a sense of improvisation in tackling the problem, rather than knowledge and organization. Greaves: If containment is lost on that storage tank, it’s all over. At least one of the teams is thinking right. Sirok: The antimatter leaves virtually no room for improvisation. The floating diagram hovering in front of Sirok clearly showed angry red indicators surrounding main engineering and the antimatter storage tanks. Multiple EPS conduits spewed jets of plasma into the compartment, flickering brightly in high winds. The environmental controls fought against a small hull breach that hadn’t been sealed by a force field, and the oxygen being pumped into the compartment created a harsh wind as it was sucked out into the simulated vacuum. Greaves: Did you program that or is it a random simulation? Sirok: There are a number of base situations that appear randomly. Depending on how they help control damage, Thor will either improve or worsen her combat performance. If the damage is not controlled, the ship will be destroyed. Greaves: That’s pretty challenging for their first run through the gauntlet. Sirok: The events they faced, for the most part, appeared as examples in the technical documentation given to them. The more complicated ones, but those that will appear less, require using their technical knowledge in an inferential way. Greaves: Fair enough. You’re the chief, and they’ll be working for you if we find ourselves in a situation like this for real. Wes watched as the Marines braced themselves against the wind. One stand out in the group pointed enthusiastically toward the hull breach. Greaves: Seems like with the ruptured conduits, there isn’t enough power for the automatic force fields to engage. Sirok: Cascade failures begin. They can still divert power and get the force field going. Wes watched in surprise. As the pair of officers spoke, the Marines hurried to reroute power in the compartment. Almost as soon as they had mentioned it, the EPS conduits stopped spewing plasma, and power was restored to the compartment, sealing the hull breach. A smile grew on his face, his chest swelling with pride. Greaves: Well, I’ll be… they managed it well. Wes noticed a new indicator on Sirok’s diagram. A long snaking line that ran directly underneath the antimatter storage was now flashing red. Sirok: A plasma fire is reaching the power system of the containers. ::He didn't have to explain to Wes that a failure in the containment field would cause the antimatter to touch the matter in the container itself. Which would result in an uncontrolled release of energy that would destroy the entire ship. Sirok: They have one minute to put out that fire. Wes watched the right most video feed as several of the Marines high fived each other, oblivious to the simulated problem below their feet. On the left screen the damage control team still attempted to suppress the plasma fire on deck 5 with flame retardant to no avail. A silent countdown slowly ticked away the time remaining to containment failure on Sirok’s overlay. Greaves: They’re too busy celebrating their small win to even notice the new problem. Wes watched in silence as one of the Marines near main engineering finally recognized the imminent failure, too late to matter unfortunately. Both screens flashed bright white momentarily. Computer: Simulation Complete. Antimatter containment field failure. USS Thor destroyed. The room in which Sirok and Wes were standing, which had previously been an immaculate representation of the Marine Quarterdeck, was replaced with the black walls and orange grid pattern of a holodeck. In one far corner of the huge room was the damage control team from engineering and in the other corner was the team from deck 5. Wes shook his head in awe. The number of calculations and the sheer processing power it took to allow three groups of people to explore a ship in a single holodeck without bumping into each other, or the walls, was impressive. The two damage control teams took a moment to reorient themselves to the change in the environment before making their way over toward Wes and Sirok. They knew they had failed miserably, and they approached with bowed heads, not wanting to make eye contact with the two officers. Greaves: ::sternly:: It is exceptionally obvious that you all disregarded the classwork and technical reading that Chief Sirok assigned. Your performance was down right awful. At any moment we could be thrust into a combat situation, and one way you’re going to keep the Thor fighting is to make sure it doesn’t explode. Wes paused his lecture to size up the Marines and let his next words sink in. Greaves: Usually I’m proud to serve with each and every one of you, but today I’m overwhelmed with disappointment. Wes let his gaze sweep across each Marine, none of which were willing to return the look. Finally he turned to Sirok. Sirok: The task at hand was not easy. But a lack of knowledge has been noted. Improvisation is useful up to a point, but to use it correctly you need to have enough knowledge. Still, congratulations on solving problems 3A and 6C. ::Sirok used a technique to help sentimental beings accept criticism. Start and end with something positive. It was something he was trying to use with his own crewmen and so far it wasn't giving him bad results.:: Greaves: ::glowering and with a reluctant voice:: Agreed. Sirok: If you have any doubt about the material, or need to practice any particular circumstance do not hesitate to consult. What you are learning will help you to work better with other crew members, not only on the Thor but on any other starship or space station where you are posted. The assembled teams still refused to make eye contact, but seemed to have regained some of their composure at the Vulcan’s reassurances. Greaves: There’s a saying I’m fond of. Amateurs train until they get it right. Professionals train until they can’t get it wrong. ::Looking over the Marines:: We’ve got a long way to go until we can’t screw that up again. Looks like we’re just going to have to keep practicing. End ========================= First Lieutenant Wes Greaves Acting Marine Detachment Commander USS Thor - NCC 82607 E239702WG0 & Ensign Sirok Acting Chief Engineering Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 Fleet Captain A. Kells, Commanding E239702S10
  17. Shore leave is a great time to ... sort out all the paperwork 😛 I always look forward to @Alex Brodie's mission reports at the end of a mission! Maybe I should get more paperwork done, so I can enjoy shore leave haha
  18. The geeky pride I have right now is off the charts. It's only outmatched by my gratitude to the folks that took the time out to put a nomination in Congrats to all the other winners and to my fellow Vikings bringing the shiny trophies home to the Thor! P.s - a huge thank you to @Tony (Kells) for kind words in the presentation too!
  19. Congrats folks! Lovely dedications that reflect the work of our amazing staff members - thanks for all you do behind the scenes
  20. Great to see such talent and commitment recognised across the fleet. Extra big cheers to Vikings bringing trophies back to the Thor!
  21. Congratulations to all those recognised - great to see the hard work and dedication in shiny ribbons Such a great group to write with and to learn from!
  22. First, I'd check to see if we could make do with the doppelgänger ... maybe it's a great time to get the captain house trained? If we're pulling up short with the doppelgänger, then Ben would clock in some annual leave, grab a shuttle and take a few select crew to extract the old, less dysfunctional captain. 😛
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