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Everything posted by Lupo

  1. I chose somebody else and Babilon 5, but IMO somebody else, is the character that can almost perfectly appear anywhere - The Traveller.
  2. As the title says, new game made to simulate the ship bridge. I'm still puzzled reading how it should work, but anyway it sounds interesting.
  3. ((USS Avandar - Main Bridge)) ::If he was capable of blushing he would be a bright shade of crimson after T'Lea had rather bluntly corrected him on his mistake. To be fair, he'd barely had time to glance the senior officer roster before coming on board, although ignorance was never an excuse when it's highlighted on everyone's collar's in gold pips. The captain remained in her ready room as the rest of the senior staff were relieved, although Tatash had requested an additional few hours on the bridge. He could go well over twenty four hours without needing sleep, one of the few perks of being a lumbering brute, although that did mean that he was unofficially expected to do the overtime when he could. Still, it gave him a moment or two to relax as he took another sip of his tea. The after-action report he was putting together with a single hand was brief and to the point. No damage inflicted, no real damage sustained with a single shot fired. Not bad considering the mess they had found themselves in as soon as they dropped out of the bizarre tunnel of the slipstream drive. What did he make of this new crew though? The Columbia had took a while to warm to him, but they had arguably been a little more accustomed to exotic species considering their Ferengi captain, the Avandar seemed a little tougher a nut to crack. Especially when those nuts seem to be as cold as deep space like T'Lea, she was an enigma for sure. It also wasn't a help that his job tended to be the most counter-productive to the Starfleet ideal. Where Science was about discovery and Engineering about invention, Tactical was solely defence and destruction. Unlike the Gorn Navy, he felt more like a necessary evil than a reputable colleague, a reminder of the harshness of space beyond the borders of the Federations core worlds. Even now he found himself watching the scanner from the corner of his eye, ever mindful of the shapes that flitted across its surface. Each one could be a distant trade ship or an incoming combatant, yet he treated each with as much suspicion as the other. He pinged one of those blips with a few console presses, a standard computer to computer check. The return message gave basic details of flight plan and the fact they had marked themselves as a light freighter, cargo transporting. Thoroughly un-interesting. The rest of the bridge continued working like the well tuned machine Starfleet made every ships command area, a little conversation between the second shift helm and ops officers just out of earshot while the rest of the silence was filled with the usual electronic bells and whistles of various systems doing their own exercises. A flashing icon caught his attention appearing on the bottom corner of the screen, a subspace message addressed to him. Normally he'd retreat to his quarters, but in the middle of such silence he afforded himself to peek at the heading at least.::   To: Lt Tatash Ssiolassh - USS Avandar NCC 80203 From: Talash Ssiolassh (Jnr) Subject: Business Venture!   ::He couldn't help but groan internally, his brother was at the best of times shady when it came to his wheeling's and dealings. He wasn't surprised a personal message had got through even the non-federation relays. Civilian traffic was marked as such, although he had no doubt it had been read by countless eyes already. With trepidation, he opened the message.::   Tatash, Where have you been brother? I visited mother and father a week ago and all mother did was complain that you never seem to call as much as you used too. I'm guessing your duties keep you under the thumb, so i'm just going to say 'I told you so' now and get it over with. You should make the time when you can, mother is as well as ever and still grills a better steak then you do. Father is as well as he can be, although from what the doctors have said he only has a matter of months left with us. That's not me trying to play your heartstrings, just giving you the truth as I know what mothers like, always looks for the positives.   ::How long -had- it been since he'd actually spoken to his parents face to face, even just over a video screen? Weeks, maybe longer. His heart sank slightly into a little pool of guilt welling up inside him.::   Anyway, getting to the point of this note. I need your latinum, I know you have a fair bit put away and I also know those Starfleet types don't use currency so as far as I can tell you've got it stashed away gathering dust. I need twenty bars, and before you even ask it's all above board. There's some decent land up for grabs on a new mining venture, but let's just say I might have 'acquired' a bit of information on where there's a decent vein of Topaline. Twenty bars will get you 50% of the plot, I'll front the rest and even pay for the drill rigs myself. Can I count you in? I've already got the transfer forms filled in just need your approval. Talash   ::He couldn't help but have his curiosity perked. Mining was always going to be a money earner as long as there was starships in the sky and buildings on planets. What harm would it be though? Talash was right, the Federation provided anything he could ever want, without so much as moving a coin, and twenty bar's was barely half of what he'd accumulated in his tours.::   To: Talash Ssiolassh (Jnr) From: Lt Tatash Ssiolassh - USS Avandar NCC 80203 Subject: Re: Business Venture! Talash, I know i've not been in touch with them as much as I wish I could be, thank you for your concern and thank you for letting me know how they are getting on. I'll speak to them in the coming days, you have my word. As for this venture... against all better judgement you can have the money. If it makes a good return then i'm sure you'll be totally honest and transparent with the figures, won't you?   ::Tongue firmly in cheek.::   Once we're finished here we'll be heading back to Starbase-118, would be good to see you again. You might even be able to peddle some of the masses of ore you'll be scooping! All my love Tatash PS: Don't screw me over, the Avandar has bigger guns then that garbage scow you call a ship.   ::A toothy grin appeared on his muzzle as he sent his sassy reply, even if he lost out, the finger-wagging rights he would have would be worth double the bricks. He caught the Captains eye as she stepped out of the ready room.::   Vetri: Lt. Tatash, I'm going to assume that smile on your face is not related to there being less people around here than the last time I looked. Tatash: Nothing to report Sir. Business as usual.  Vetri: ::dryly:: Given recent events, that is not especially inspiring.   Lt Tatash Chief Tactical Officer USS Avandar C239108T10
  4. I chose Romulan, but the choice was made because of the state the republic is most probably now and idea that they may change if they are steered in the right direction. There is also so much unknown about their history after they left Vulcan, Sundering sounds pretty fascinating and I'd love to learn about it from the source closest to it.
  5. Did you ever bought anything in/for the game Zen maybe? Do you have PayPal report saved anywhere in the mail. If yes, contact Perfect World game support and ask them to retrieve your information for you. You need to still owe email address and have at least one payment ID to prove you're owner. I'm playing it, once a year or maybe twice and had to do this few times.
  6. I voted Bajoran and Romulan, but one I'd most love to know is actually Betazoid. From a few words we learned from the show it's very gentle and musical language.
  7. Chocolate cupcake...

  8. Wrong link, both of you, you have to go even further and click on the image to get direct link.
  9. I like Lady Gray more, because of orange aroma in it, but I always have Earl Gray at home, too. And yes, I like them both sweet with either lemon or rum.
  10. Great information Sevo, fantastic work. This gave me an idea for a mission. When you will have some more time in your fingers, would you be willing to write down, how you see the president election and bid if each citizen of the Federation have a right to vote - in either case of voting on a planetary level or the Federation level. I see Memory Alpha as an Internet today - it keeps everyone connected to each other, so in case of voting on the Federation level, everyone vote for a candidate, not on the planetary level - it would go as all votes to the MA and it would count votes and give the results. Can someone manipulate the counting? Much easier made if individually tabulated than if voting is on planetary level. How can someone manipulate people on the planets to vote for them? How do you make people like you?
  11. ((Briefing Room, USS Avandar)) ::As he awaited the mission briefing, his mind began to wander until it arrived, rather unexpectedly, at a destination he was not entirely prepared for. Emerson. Oh sweet, dear Emerson! Emerson who always made things better. Emerson who always harnessed and dragged the sun through the darkest of clouds to shine on his gloomy days. Emerson who always made the pain go away. Emerson who was murdered. Emerson who is dead. Emerson who is gone. Forever. He sighed, staring blankly at the PADD before him. A swirl of memories spun furiously in his mind.:: ((Flashback – stardate 239112.27)) ((Brig, USS Atlantis)) ::Raj had intentionally used the name Marcus while the security officer was present, though he knew full well that it was indeed Kelrod who he was conversing with.:: DICKENS: ::sighing:: Please, sit down. What I'm about to tell you... Marcus wanted to wait 'till we ended this assignment to not cloud your judgment with what it implies, but it seems that you've already found out by yourself... BLUEHEART: ::taking a step back:: What? ::frowning, perplexed:: What did you say? DICKENS: Just before we entered the Norlian Nebula, after West departure it has come to my knowledge that Emerson has been... kidnapped. ::His lungs vomited out the air in them and he staggered back, trance-like, staring at the man in front of him with unseeing eyes.:: DICKENS: I have seen some footage from DS26 security where he's seen with a bag in his head being dragged by some unknown people. The only way security hasn't found him is because he's not on the station anymore, so his whereabouts and condition... it's unknown. BLUEHEART: ::voice soft, raspy:: You’re.. telling me now? Now? ::suddenly roaring:: NOW??!! You [...]!! I trusted you!!! ::He launched his small frame at the Angosian-Betazoid, seething with rage and confusion. If he wasn’t mad a while ago, he surely was now. He coiled his right arm back, ready to strike at Kelrod’s smug face, but was stopped by the man himself.:: DICKENS: Captain, I'm not the optimistic Betazoid that will put things sweet for you. Reality is that he's captured against his will and dragged out of the station. We can't know if he's dead or alive, all you have is an impression, a feeling that might be clouded by the situation and the temporal distortions we're experiencing. BLUEHEART: ::shoving himself away from Kelrod with disgust:: You had no right!! No right to keep that information from me!!! ::He clasped both his hands on top of his head, moaning in frustration and sheer anger.:: DICKENS: Once we're out of here, we'll head back to DS26, after Townson charges and the implications of dealing with a ship out of time, I'm sure SF HQ would like to interview most of us and do an investigation. Then I'll see to help you discovering any trace of Emerson that we can find and talk to Starfleet Intelligence, along with Townson to know the true. BLUEHEART: And they’re going to just believe you?? You?! The THING inside Marcus?!! ::He scoffed in disbelief.:: This isn’t happening! This isn’t happening!! ::He shook his head repeatedly and slammed his back against the far wall of the cell, sliding down the smooth cold surface till he was sitting on the floor, legs outstretched before him, like a broken ragdoll.:: DICKENS: As of my... condition, I've met a lot of intel personnel, and have some of them as... friends. I'm sure I can get something about him but now you have to focus and being the captain that you've been since I joined you first day on the Bridge. BLUEHEART: ::looking up and narrowing his eyes:: And how am I going to do that, huh? I’m a bloody war criminal for the gods’ sakes!! DICKENS: I have a plan ready to deal with all that's going on here. I'll let you here to calm down and analyze your feelings and rationalize what you've felt and what I've told you. ::looking back to see the Counselor:: I want you to speak with Danzia, you know the drill, you were in her place before and talking about things is the best way to overcome them and deal with them properly, right? ::Raj looked past Kelrod and saw LtCmdr Danzia preparing her questions. Suddenly an idea began to form in his mind. A dark, sinister idea. A selfish idea, but one borne out of desperation, out of love. He cannot be in here if he was going to rescue Emerson!:: BLUEHEART: ::suddenly looking up with a blank stare, all emotions drained from his face:: You’re right. You’re absolutely right, Commander. ::He stood up just as the Bridge hailed the acting Captain, signaling the arrival of the Romulans. Raj could only drop his jaw and gape at the man standing before him.:: DICKENS: I have to go now, you know, deal with the Romulans, navigate through time rifts... the usual Starfleet stuff. ::placing a hand on his shoulder:: Don't worry Raj, If we get out of this we'll find about Em, if we don't,... we'll have a lifetime to think and talk about it. ::Raj turned the other way as Kelrod left the cell and left the security suite. He grew numb. He wasn’t sure what to feel next. Anger, that Marcus/Kelrod knew about the kidnapping all along but withheld the information from him lest he be distracted? Fear, of what might have happened to Emerson? Confusion, as to how he was expected to keep something like this from affecting his duty to ship and crew? How could he not have known?:: ((End flashback)) ::His heartrate soared. He wrung his hands under the table. Those merciless memories would continue their attack on him.:: ((Flashback – stardate 239112.31)) ((Bridge, USS Atlantis)) ::Amidst of all the chaotic action unfolding in and around the ship, Raj felt a cold hand grip his heart and clench its fist. He took a small step back, startled by the sensation. It was more a notion, a feeling, than a sensation. A vision, perhaps. His first thought was that he was experiencing a heart attack, but he soon realized that the symptomatology was all wrong. But something else was. Something was terribly wrong. It was as if the hand squeezing his heart was a dark shadow, snuffing out all the light from the organ. He became afraid, he became confused. He felt smothered. He was asphyxiating. Something was terribly wrong. He was suddenly overwhelmed by a profound sense of loneliness, abandonment and desolation. Tears welled up in his eyes but he quickly blinked them right back in like the expert crying clown that he was. His heart was no longer beating. It was but a husk. An empty shell waiting to be rid of this world by a rogue wind. Something was terribly wrong. He felt as if the entire universe collapsed in on itself and around him, crushing him. He was being crushed on the inside as well as on the outside like an insect. The loneliness was intensifying. He was adrift in endless blackness, severed from his sanctuary, severed from the anchor that bound him to his own private haven. He drifted off deeper into the abyss of blackness, into nothingness. He was ceasing to exist. Something was terribly wrong. It all happened in a fraction of a heartbeat that seemed like an eternity. He knew instantly what was it that was terribly wrong. Emerson! He struck an emotionless façade while being dead inside. Thank the gods for exploding starships and deadly space battles! Thank the gods for sweet, sweet distraction! :: ((End flashback)) ::He leaned back in his seat with a soft, barely audible sigh. These were the nightmares that kept him wide awake on most nights.:: ((Flashback – stardate 239201.11)) ((Starfleet Morgue, DS26)) ::The hall was appropriately dim. It reeked of bleach and death. A single metal table stood in the center of the hall, illuminated within a cone of white light, surrounded by an audience of cabinets brimming with the dead. A white sheet covered the body. It took forever for him to take three steps towards it. He was amazingly calm as he drew back the white sheet. Once pale skin now tinged green, stared back at him. How many times had he attempted and failed to count the freckles on that face. The fiery red hair was now dark, wet and oily with disinfectant. The eyelids were stitched close. How dearly he missed those infinite emerald orbs! What he would do to lose himself in them again. The palest of lips were sewn together, the sutures making little X’s across the mouth forever sealed shut. What secrets hid within? Withdrawing a small, folded piece of paper from the breast pocket of his uniform jacket, he stared at it for several seconds, rubbing his thumb across the surface in circles, before gingerly inserting it into a pocket on Emerson’s uniform. Just over his still heart. Resting his palm there, he looked adoringly at the lifeless man, peering into eyes permanently shut. A soft breath of air escaped his lips. It might as well be his soul departing. He leaned in and kissed the cold, bloodless lips, the catgut X’s [...]ing his own. Raj knelt beside the table and took Emerson’s cold and rigid right hand into both of his. Squeezing it gently, he silently invoked Athena’s blessing for a soul’s safe passage to the stars and beyond. He closed his eyes not to focus his thoughts and prayers, but because he was ashamed that he never really believed in gods and demons and the life eternal. Death is finite. Death is final. Death is the end. A lonely tear emerged from hiding to roll down his face. It would prove to be the last tear Raj Blueheart would ever shed.:: ((End flashback)) ::He sat forward once again, the briefing was about to start. This time he clenched his fists under the table. He made a solemn vow that moment. He would seek answers. He would seek closure. But most important of all, he would seek vengeance.:: TBC ================================ Captain Raj Blueheart Medical Officer USS Avandar NCC-80203 D238601RB0
  12. ((Embassy, Ambassadorial Kitchen)) Vetri: Ah, they're not usually that bad. ::gesturing to a seat at the counter:: So, what did you actually come here to talk to me about? Rossh: Just a matter I wanted to bring to the Admiral, but I wanted a second opinion - politically speaking - before I did. I really shouldn't intr... ::The thought that had been nagging in the back of his head finally came to the forefront.:: ..wait, did you say fuzzy dice earlier? :: The idea of political ramifications gave her a solid idea why he'd come to her, but that was put on hold for a moment as she gave him a quick grin over the rim of her coffee mug.:: Vetri: Nope. Why would I? ::The feline featured officer gave the Admiral a long appraising look before speaking.:: Rossh: To mess with my head? Vetri: I take my amusements where I can find them. ::chuckling:: Don't worry about it. Tell me what this thing you want a second opinion on is. Rossh: Alright. ::He moved to lean against the nearby counter as he assembled exactly what he was about to say into some form of cohesive order.:: Rossh: I think we are making a mistake in how we are currently dealing with the Laudeans. Vetri: Oh? :: There didn’t seem to be more she could really think of to say at that point. Not without more data, which she was expecting he’d get around to providing in due course.:: ::S’Kahh wasn’t exactly sure where to start, he wasn’t used to discussing sociology with non-sociologists. He fell back on what he already knew, and had discussed before.:: Rossh: I don't suppose you're familiar with a paper I wrote while I was at the academy, on the topic of how Music can both influence a society’s development and be used as a sociological barometer? Vetri: I regret to say… no. Not even remotely. :: Not that he seemed all that bothered by this admission.:: Rossh: Don't worry, outside of sociologists I don't think it's exactly a blockbuster hit. ::He half smiled.:: However it recently occurred to me that it's something we need to consider in relation to our hosts. :: He gestured towards the nearest window, indicating that he meant the Laudeans, and Della nodded thoughtfully as she sipped at her coffee again.:: Vetri: If you’re going to suggest some sort of world-altering rock concert, I’m not sure it’s a winner. ::The caitain half chuckled at that and shrugged.:: Rossh: Not quite, I don't mean the music side of it - I mean the influencing societal development part. :: She didn’t say a word in reply, but the look she gave him over the rim of her mug was… eloquent.:: Rossh: I'm not talking about trying to engineer their society - rather to counteract another influence that... ..well, to be honest I should have realised before. Hell, I've felt its effects myself. Vetri: Example? Rossh: The Romulans. ::He watched the Ambassador's response to that, which mostly consisted of another thoughtful look, then nodded.:: Vetri: The Romulans that were here, but now better [...]ed well not be? Rossh: They are indeed, mostly, gone - I'd be shocked if they don't have at least a few agents still monitoring this system. But the technology they left behind hasn't. :: After a long moment of silence, Della shifted to actually sit at the counter instead of leaning against it, then motioned for him to continue.:: Rossh: Right now the Laudean people are going through a quiet technological revolution. Every week new technologies are being created right here. ::His tail flicked out as he started to get into the swing of his argument.:: We don't notice it because we are so used to these technologies ourselves. For example, did you know that last month a company introduced an anti-grav tractor here? Vetri: I didn’t, no, but it doesn’t strike me as a particularly shattering development. Rossh: Exactly, to us it's quaint - something you'd see on a remote colony. To the Laudeans it's a massive increase in agricultural productivity. Crops can be grown closer together without the need for agricultural vehicles to drive between them, making for better use of space. Vetri: I’ll take your word for that. I’m not exactly up on agricultural techniques. Rossh: Here on Duronis, they are reverse engineering old Romulan tech left behind to make these products. That means that the basic principles that Laudean tech now follow are those of the Romulans - not the Laudeans themselves. Vetri: And this would be significant because…? :: Not that she didn’t have some idea, but she wanted *his* take on it.:: Rossh: Technology influences how people think. You remember the vault we have under the Museum? Where we store artifacts not currently on display? :: Since she was taking another mouthful of coffee at that moment, she just nodded. Then frowned a little and swallowed so she could speak.:: Vetri: It’s a leftover bit of architecture, isn’t it? Rossh: Yes, it's an old Romulan construction - and the way it's built follows their design philosophy. When I authorised its expansion - I automatically followed that philosophy instead of our own, because it fit together better that way. If a federation architect had designed it, it would have at least two different lifts and a backup stairwell. But the Romulans built it with one - easy to defend against - lift. That way it could also be used as a bunker. We don't think like... ::The face of the Embassy's second in command floated into the Caitian's mind at that moment, and he corrected himself.:: ..most of us don't think like that. Vetri: ::dryly:: Indeed. Rossh: You see what I'm getting at. Vetri: More or less. But we’re talking about an entirely different sort of thing, are we not? ::He sighed, nodding his agreement with that.:: Rossh: Well yes, tractors are hardly going to be a damaging influence. But I'm more getting at a different problem... Vetri: Let me guess... Rossh: Military hardware. Romulan tech lends itself to developing certain technologies, and those technologies lend themselves to certain tactics. And tactics influence strategy, and both tactics and strategy are dependant on how people are taught. :: Yup. Pretty much where she’d come to think he was heading.:: Vetri: I’m not sure I’d completely agree with that, but I do see where you’re going. ::He stood, and met the ambassador’s gaze as he continued.:: Rossh: The Laudeans are, without realising it, potentially heading down a technological path that'll make it a requirement for them to adopt tactics like those the Romulans use to make best use of what they build. Vetri: Assuming they don’t mix in any innovation or adaptation of their own. But remember that Romulan strategy and tactics grew out of their culture, not the other way around. They went with what they knew, and made it apply to other fields. ::Setting her mug down on the counter:: But I assume you have an idea as to how this trend might be… redirected? Rossh: By changing tack in how we interact with the Laudean education system. I propose that we allow secondary, college and university students come to the Embassy to use and experiment with our equipment. We explain how it works, but only on the principle level - we give them the information they need to figure out how to make it on their own. Vetri: Hmm. You’re talking about giving them the basic building blocks, but leaving them to work out what to do with them themselves? Rossh: Exactly, we simply inspire the next generation of Laudean scientists and engineers to build the very tools they've used here for themselves - without having to resort to reverse engineering the way the Romulans would have done it. That means they'll be coming at it from their own angle, not the Romulans - or even ours. :: Della thought it over, idly toying with her empty mug as she considered what he’d said. She could see merit in it, even though she was less convinced by the chain of reasoning he’d used to get there. But wasn’t that sort of the point? It was *his* way of getting to a solution, and whilst she’d have gotten there differently, that was simply the result of a different way of thinking.:: Vetri: Do you have any guesses as to the effectiveness of this idea? Rossh: ::He shrugged.:: Honestly I don't know, that'll depend on the Laudeans themselves. I mean, sure, they'll have a certain level of influence from us - even if it's just designing the control systems to be like ours since that's what they'll have gotten used to using. But it should be enough to blunt the technological tendency to copy Romulan patterns. Vetri: I’d agree with that much, though I’m not convinced it’s as big a problem as you seem to think it is. ::holding up a hand:: I’m not saying it *isn’t* something to consider. Rossh: That’s fair enough, after all I did want to run this past you before taking it any further precisely because I wasn’t sure. I do however believe that it’s something we will have to confront at some point. ::He paused.:: No disrespect intended. Vetri: I don’t shoot people for disagreeing with me before my second coffee of the day, so you’re safe. :: Getting up, she snagged her mug and headed to the replicator to order up a refill. Once she had it, she turned back to him and smiled amiably.:: Vetri: Now, where were we… ::she let it hang for a second, then shrugged:: Assemble the idea about inviting students as a proposal, but I’d leave out the references to the Romulans. Present it as just an idea to help guide the Laudeans toward making their own technological developments in the future. Rossh: So, drop the reasons behind it entirely? Vetri: ::shaking her head:: I’m not suggesting ignore the reasoning that got you to the idea, S'Kahh. Just focus on the idea itself. If you get asked why you came up with it, then fair enough, but I wouldn’t lead with it. *Especially* to the Laudeans. Rossh: I hadn’t planned on broadcasting that part too widely, though… ..I’d feel more comfortable if at least the Prime Minister was aware of the intent behind the program. Though, I realise it would probably be better to not simply not mention my reasoning at all? ::He made that statement into a question at the end, seeking reassurance that he wasn’t being overcautious, which Della thought was a reasonable precaution. She shook her head, though, again not quite agreeing with him.:: Vetri: If he asks, then give him your reasoning, but I’m thinking a slight spin on it might work better. Rossh: Oh? How so? Vetri: Gimme a moment, I’m thinking. Okay, how about this? The whole idea is to reduce the impact that the study of Romulan hardware has on Laudean technological development, by giving them another tech base to draw from. The whole idea is for them to draw their own conclusions from it all, and develop the way *they* want to. ::sipping at her mug for a moment:: Basically, present the whole deal as a chance for them to play with more toys, and choose from them what they want to work on. Rossh: I can understand that, and I can do that as well. Vetri: Just… don’t go into the social side of things unless you *really* have to. The Prime Minister may get what you mean, but there are a lot of other folks on this planet who will shave you bald for suggesting they might turn into Romulans. :: Actually, she thought that would be a pretty mild reaction compared to some, but there was no need to dwell on that just now. The very idea of being shaved held a distinct horror for the feline featured scientist, somewhat equivalent to most species conception of being naked at a public event… ..bar Betazoids at least.:: Rossh: Your warning is well taken. While I don’t totally agree, I do understand your reasoning in turn - and I definitely don’t want to jeopardize our position here. Vetri: ::nodding:: Fair enough. Write it up, send it on over, and I’ll take a look and see if anything needs tweaking before you go to Toni with it. Rossh: Thank you, I’ll have it to you by… ::He considered for a moment.:: ..end of today? Vetri: If you feel you can get it done by then without rushing, sure. Better to get this sort of thing done right than fast. Rossh: Well, I suppose I’d better get back to work. I now have a lot of writing to do… ::He half smiled as he turned towards the door, tail swishing rather more relaxedly behind him.:: Vetri: And you might want to consider yourself very lucky about that. Rossh: About which part? :: With a grin, she drained her mug, then stuck it back in the replicator for recycling.:: Vetri: The part that has you behind a desk, as opposed to up to your armpits in a ship that may, at any given moment and for no reason but its own amusment, blow up. Or bits of it, at any rate. Rossh: I don’t know about that… ..have you met my sister? Might remind me of home. ::He gave an overly toothy grin to that.:: Vetri: Your sister, Mr. Rossh, is not a theoretically inanimate lump of machinery. Random explosions are less of an expected thing with those. Now go. ::shooing him toward the door:: Scoot. Write. And steer clear of the landing bays. Rossh: ::Saluting:: Aye Aye Ambassador. ::And with that he headed towards the door, and back out into the embassy grounds.:: TBC -------------------- Ambassador Della Vetri Diplomatic Officer Embassy of Duronis Author ID O238506DV0 & Lt Cmdr S’Kahh Rossh Chief Science Officer Duronis II Embassy - USS Thunder A Author ID: E238907SR0
  13. "You may know me as Guinan... But that is a life I have not yet lived. My name is Telora, of the El-Aurian Royal House of Xaan. This is my story... before my name was Guinan." Unfortunately it's just a fan made web series, but one I'm sure I'll follow and watch regularly.
  14. What he said! Totally agree. DS9 was the series that got me Trekified. The thing that got me as well was the look into civilian life on a station and that there was a few sub plots going on all the time.Sure, each episode was watchable out of sequence, stood on its own. But the beauty was in the collective narrative, watching them in sequence. Plus Garak, in my top 3 characters. Well written and badass, in his own unflappable way. Although I love Voyager the most I voted DS9 here. I agree with all said in previous comments, but want to add that while in other shows actors were researching characters for at least half of a season in DS9 they were well played from the start.
  15. (( Jurassic Duronis II )) :: Hannibals' senses were working over time...it seemed the place was literally crawling with things that would kill them. J'em Haddar were easy compared to this...:: PARKER: Something is watching us... WALTAS::Quietly:: There's probably 50 things watching it watch us. DOWN! NOW! :: Hannibal and Hannah hit the dirt, and felt the breeze of something large pass over him. Quickly rolling over and looking at the sky, Hannibal saw something he thought could only exist in the deepest pits of hell..except at the moment, it had just tried to kill the three of them. The creature reminded Hannibal of a tiger...a tiger far larger and anything he could have imagined, and this one had the added advantage of flight. Hannibal could see into its mouth, green fluid dripped from its fangs as it looked at them from where it landed, its roar filled the air. Hannibals' heart raced, and he heard Hannah gasp at the creature...:: WALTAS: Nice kitty.. Parker:: Keeping his voice even, then clicking off the safety of his rifle:: How would you like to housebreak that? :: Hannah was not having it, and he saw her slide a booted foot back away from the snarling overgrown housecat...:: Martinez: I...I think it would be more interested in eating us than being a pet....Ideas, Colonel? :: It was a primal fear which still manifested itself in humanoids...the fear of being eaten by another animal.Even in their time, some sentient beings regarded human flesh as a delicacy. While the three of them knew better than to run, it was getting more difficult to stay, but they had to do something...:: WALTAS: What do you want me to do, feed it kibbles?! We're its kibbles! :: Hannibal was in no mood to be anythings' dinner, much less one of Commander Rossh's possible ancestors..:: PARKER::: That thing is beginning to [...] me off...... MARTINEZ: I vote for killing it..... WALTAS::Shaking his head:: We can't kill it unless we have no choice. :: Hannibal knew it was Hannahs' fear talking, and Tyr was right...they couldn't kill it unless they had no other options...and the creature was narrowing them greatly. Tiring of the staring match, Hannibal saw the creature settle back on his rear legs, ears pinned back, it eyes trained on the smallest member of the party...Martinez...she was out ahead of them and literally in no mans' land..:: Parker: Hannah...back up real easy..... :: Hannibal issued his warning too late. With a speed which alarmed Hannibal, the cat pounced, with Hannah initially fending it off with her phaser rifle, the only thing keeping the cat from sinking its teeth into her. Hannibal leveled his phaser, firing around the cat o try to distract it, and Hannibal could hear the sound of gunfire, and could see the dust rising from the bullet hits and both Tyr and Hannibal closed on the hellcat. The creature leaped away from Hannah, and she rolled away, rifle at the ready. Now the creature was looking at Tyr at the source of its latest irritation, which left Hannibal slightly miffed...he was used to being the one everything usually shot at...:: WALTAS: Frak. Run! : The three took off at a dead run, although all of them were weighed down with more than sixty pounds of equipment each. Hannibal would look over his should and see they were rapidly putting the hellcat behind him, but still they did not slacken their pace until they saw the cat stop, howling at the fact it had just lost its meal...they stopped, winded but alive, one of the reasons Marine training emphasized physical fitness. Hannibal knew a regular Starfleet officer might not have been as fortunate...:: WALTAS: Well...that was...fun...too bad we didn't have a ball of yarn. Parker: And five gallons of catnip....... Martinez::: Finally getting a chance to inspect herself for claw marks or other damage, and relieved she was only scared:: I'll make sure we bring some next time we have to go to Dino land... :: Hannibal noted their shadows were gone, replaced by a gathering cloud cover...and the volcano rumbled its dissastisfaction. Looking down at his boots, he saw that they were gone, covered in mud. He tried to raise his boot out of the muck, but his greater weight only made him sink faster. Hannibal looked to his comrades, and found they were sinking as well...:: WALTAS: I'm beginning to hate this planet. :: Hannibal was sunk down to his waist, Tyr was thigh level and Martinez was sunk the least amount, thanks to her lighter weight...:: Parker: This sure as hell ain't Risa.... Martinez: The desert in Arizona would be better.... :: And, as if their luck couldn't get any worse, a snarl from their feline friend got his attention...they had run into his trap. All the overgrown housecat had to do now was wait them out. The cat sniffed around the edges, then settled down on its haunches, licking its lips and looking at them expectantly. They were ambushed and trapped by a prehistoric feline, not exactly the way Hannibal pictured his death...:: WALTAS: And we were worried about the Admiral getting into trouble.. Parker:: sinking further:: Yeah...we were supposed to be protecting her.... Martinez: Yeah..when they find what's left of us they will know not to come here.... :: Before Hannibal could respond, his communicator beeped...:: BRELL: =/\= Brell to Commander Parker. =/\= WALTAS::Raising a finger out of the sand just far enough to point a warning at him:: Not a WORD.. :: Relieved at being only a few seconds from freedom, and not wanting in any way to divulge their rathr precarious predicament, Hannibal tapped his commbadge, which was now almost buried...:: Parker: =/\= Parker here. Go ahead Lieutenant.=/\= BRELL: =/\= We had to change our landing site, that storm overhead is about to turn nasty. I'm sending our location to your tricorders, we are about three kilometers from you. =/\= WALTAS::breaking in:: =/\= Might want to give us a few moments Lieutenant. There are plenty of nasty pitfalls around here and predatory animals. =/\= :: Hannibal and Hannah both stifled a grin...she was now taller in the trap than they were, and it was one of the few times she could look at either man eye to eye while standing up...:: BRELL: =/\= We could beam you over if you would prefer. =/\= :: Brell didn't know it, but he had just saved them a world of embarrassment. The three of them would easily keep the secret of their "dishonor"...:: Parker: =/\= We would appreciate that, Mister Brell. Beam us up. Parker out.=/\= :: As the transporter beam enveloped them, Hannibal looked at the cat and smiled, while Tyr gave a universally known finger symbol, while Hannah mouthed "frak you [...]!" as the transporter beam took them...:: TBC Lt. Commander Hannibal Tiberious Parker First Officer USS Thunder-A/ Duronis II Embassy
  16. I just found out, my father told me. She was great with fans and fandom loved her a lot. Rest in Peace.
  17. When my parents were going to school they started at age 8 and then were learning how to read and write. I went to little school at age 5 and when at age 7 went to school I knew perfectly how to read and write. With technology available today kids are learning even without reading a lot of the things we couldn't long before school. I believe it is possible we will overgrow the impossible, learn how to safely harness power sources we don't even imagine today. Why? Need is a mother of invention. Oil companies are protecting their wealth by making sure no research in the replacement is well founded and when they can they pay to end the research. But we have oil reserves for 20 more years.. frightening is that earth have maybe 25 more years of normal existence if pollution don't stop. Hopefully the end of oil era will stop that pollution. Need to lower pollution will also push us to research a way to travel through the stars and move people off the mother Earth to give her some breathing space. Also dear Earth may became so hot we'll be forced to seek new home. That may very well force us to finally unite. Need to survive as species.
  18. I voted Boston Legal because I watched several episodes recently, but I actually watched him the most as a host in Rescue 911.
  19. OOC: Going to assume we're home. Also, I wrote this while listening to "Hearts I Leave Behind", which [...] near made me cry. It was in tribute to Chris Kyle, the soldier the film "American Sniper" was made for. It sort of fit's Tyr's situation too. ((Bridge, USS Thunder)) ::They were home.:: ::Or at least, his temporary home. With his involvement in the rescue mission and the events in the ready room, Tyr knew what he had to do. He quietly left the bridge as the Thunder achieved orbit, heading for his quarters where he packed his meager belongings into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, his back protesting immediately and just as immediately being ignored. He headed for his temporary apartment on Duronis.:: ::Temporary. Like everything here was.:: ::Love had been temporary with Hella. Happiness had been temporary with his new duty station. Physical ability had been temporary with his injury. Even friendship; although Parker would never admit it, his new duties as a father and increasing duties as a command officer would reduce their friendship to dust. Duty always did.:: ::Usefulness had been temporary. It seemed the only permanence the Ba'ku knew was loneliness. He'd felt that during the birth of Parker's child. And even as he'd held Toni's hand and dared to explore the possibilities that the gesture allowed-he knew that was a dead end too. It had been before, and would be again.:: ((Transporter Room, USS Thunder)) ::He quietly sighed and stepped onto the transporter pad, nodding to the chief as he realized the Thunder would be the last starship he'd set foot on. He noted, with a pang, that it shouldn't have been. Coming here had been a mistake. The last starship he should have been on was the Discovery, now wasting away in her berth at some forgotten outpost.:: ::Wasting away. Useless. Like her Captain.:: ((Duronis II Embassy Grounds)) ::The Ba'ku materialized on the parade grounds of the Marine CIC and quietly shouldered his backpack with his possessions inside, heading for his quarters to change. He let the Starfleet Marine uniform fall to the floor and pulled on his blue jeans and black Discovery t-shirt-the same attire he'd worn the first day he'd arrived. Grabbing his guitar, he walked out, leaving the uniform lying on the floor.:: ((Beach, Duronis II)) ::He walked until his aching back wouldn't allow him to walk any further, clad in his casual attire with no communicator and only a pair of sunglasses to shield his eyes from the bright Duronis daylight. His feet took him to the beach near the Embassy, and finally, either from emotional or physical exhaustion, the Ba'ku sat down in the sand. He stared out from behind the sunglasses at the endless waves that lapped the shore, the ebb and flow of water as eternal as time itself. But nothing, truly, was eternal.:: ::Nothing.:: ::He withdrew a PADD from his backpack and sent the waiting resignation to Toni, then casually tossed the PADD into the water as well. He watched as the approaching waves tugged at the device, finally gaining enough purchase to pull it out to sea. He watched it bob at the surface, then it quietly slipped beneath the waves. He sighed softly and picked up his guitar. There was no one about, thankfully, otherwise he was sure the Laudeans would protest offworlder music just like his people did on his homeworld. He strummed at the instrument and then quietly picked out a song from his favorite genre, 21st-century Earth.:: ::The song bled into him, the words striking his heart. He'd made a mark of a permanent kind..but that was long ago. Now he could only scratch feebly at the surface. And in spite of the help his friends had sought to give him, in the end, it just wasn't meant to be. He HAD to be useful. He HAD to be making that permanent mark, or it would be washed away, like the waves had washed away the PADD. He thought of T'Lea's fury and their confrontation in the lounge, and how right she'd been. He was weak. It was time he'd accepted that. T'Minh, Parker, Pavlova, Lupo..they had all tried to help him and in their own way, they had, but it just wasn't enough. The message was clear. He needed to go.:: ::He finished the song, then struggled to his feet and turned to schedule a flight back to Ba'ku. But there was someone waiting for him.:: OOC: No, I'm not really leaving. This is a plot arc. Stay tuned. ============================== Colonel Tyr Waltas Resigned
  20. ((USS Thunder - Lounge)) :: The exact time was 0312 when she entered the Thunder’s lounge.:: :: Twenty minutes ago T’Lea had been shattered awake by another visceral sleep terror, the results of which had driven her out of her quarters in search of refuge someplace else. Her hunt for “someplace else” had left her drifting aimlessly through the slumbering halls of the ship until she’d wandered into the officer’s lounge.:: :: Deep down this was the last place she wanted to be, but crawling into Della’s arms was still not a risk she was willing to take, although the thought of it now didn’t *nearly* terrify her as much as it had in recent days. However, as much as she would have dearly loved to have drown herself in the warmth of the Trill’s embrace, and forget the foul dream that had broken her spirit yet again, it wasn’t going to happen.:: :: The lounge would have to do. After all, how crowded could it be at three in the morning. Not very by the looks of it.:: ((Tyr’s Quarters, USS Thunder)) ::Sleep eluded him. Even with the comfortable pillow which eased his pain, his back seemed content to let him sleep, but his mind did not. He was torn, whether he had made the right decision to stay, or go running home to Ba’ku. Either way, sleep was an impossibility. Pulling on his black t-shirt and a pair of jeans, he headed for the lounge.:: ((Lounge, USS Thunder)) ::There was no one there, and for that he was thankful. Most sane people would be asleep, and that was how he wanted it. The thought of drowning himself in another alcoholic bath was quickly dismissed, and instead he bellied up to the bar and eased his aching leg into one of the chairs.:: WALTAS: Ice water. ::A tall, ice-cold glass of water was placed in front of him and he took a long pull on it, closing his eyes and letting the cold liquid drift down his throat and into his tortured stomach. He sighed deeply. For a few moments, he had peace, until the doors slid open again.:: o O Oh hell. O o ::He quickly stared into his drink, and if there were shadows in the lounge he would’ve crawled into one. Given her reaction to him at the party, he was certain she didn’t want to see him as much as he didn’t want to see her. After all-how was their conversation to begin? “Hi, still not dead from your terrible experience? Retired yet? Thinking of going on any more out-of-control escapades?”. It was odd. The question applied to BOTH of them.:: :: T’Lea’s eyes scanned the room, finding one soul sitting at the counter, and another soul tending the bar. She thought about taking the corner table by the window, but opted for faster service at the counter.:: T’Lea: Vulcan Spice tea. Hot. :: The bar tender nodded, and then headed to the back to the kitchen to accommodate the order. T’Lea pulled over a napkin folding it meticulously in anticipation of the spoon that the server would bring along with her order.:: :: She heard the rustling of a body two seats down, and glanced over casually, only to stiffen up when she saw the other patron at the counter.:: :: Tyr.:: :: Of all people it had to be him, she thought grievously, and pulled her eyes away. She slid to the edge of the stool and set a foot down readying herself to leave.:: :: Should she say something, or continue to ignore him? Could she sit there and enjoy her tea without talking to him, or would it be better to leave?:: :: Before she could figure out what the appropriate etiquette was for somebody she’d tried to murder, her order was dropped off.:: :: An empty cup with a bag of tea placed inside, and a small pot of hot water accompanied by a spoon, which she placed on the perfectly folded napkin.:: :: She looked at Tyr again. If he’d seen her he was doing a good job of pretending that he hadn’t.:: T’Lea: Can’t sleep? :: On Counselor James’s suggestion, T’Lea followed the Doctor’s orders. Maybe it was time to talk. Maybe this was… what was it that Terran’s called this… fate?:: ::He blinked in surprise as she’d chosen to approach him. He didn’t know what to say, but the question was innocent enough. Perhaps that’s all it was-innocent conversation. Taking a long pull on the ice water, he paused for a moment and then spoke.:: WALTAS: My back will let me. My mind won’t. :: She poured the hot water into her cup and bounced the tea bag around by its string, watching intently as the dark color of the herbs swirled into the clear liquid. It was all she could do to *not* let her eyes wander toward Tyr’s spine – the one she’d snapped like a twig.:: :: The first part of her response was grunted with understanding.:: T’LEA: And even when the mind calms down, the dreams take over… :: She said it more to herself than him.:: WALTAS::Nodding:: I suppose I can understand that. :: This was going to be more difficult than T’Lea had ever imagined. Talking to Tyr was like trying to make nice with one of her panic-inducing nightmares. What was she supposed to say to him? I’m sorry? That just didn’t seem like enough.:: :: She wrung the tea bag out on her spoon, and set it aside. The first sip was hot. Hot enough to burn her tongue on.:: T’LEA: So, what do you think about where we are headed? :: Honestly, she hadn’t been paying attention to the briefing and still didn’t know a whole lot about it. It would actually take a certain amount of *caring* on her part to learn the specifics of their objectives, and right now she didn’t care whole hell of a lot about anything.:: WALTAS::Shrugging:: Sounds like a run-of-the-mill mission. ::Pausing, awkwardly:: Run of the mill. What kind of bizarre phrase is that? Terrans can be odd at times. :: She almost managed a smile between stirring her tea and another sip, but failed when the cup touched her lips.:: T’LEA: Their idioms are more “idiot” than not most of the time. I quit trying to figure them out at the academy. WALTAS: True. :: Another stretch of silence wafted like an unmentionable stink between them, and T’Lea could feel herself starting to crawl out of her skin again.:: :: She pinched the bridge of her nose, and fought back the memories of Vetka – of Tyr slicing her open from hip to shoulder, of his foot collapsing the side of her knee, of his unwillingness to kill her when he had the chance. All those agonizing details came flooding back, but the only thing she could say to the man was, “hot tea,” while wincing between sips.:: WALTAS::Sighing, putting down his drink:: Look. Are we going to address, to use another Terran phrase, the 900-pound elephant in the room? :: That was one phrase T’Lea did understand the meaning of. She was pretty sure Tash had explained it to her at some point, but at *this* point the Romu-vulc was content to play dumb, and hopefully avoid the topic completely.:: T’LEA: What do you mean? :: Said casually as she took another sip from her tea cup.:: WALTAS: Me. You. The fact that I could’ve killed you. The fact that you nearly killed me. You know, the small stuff. Because I can sit and make small talk with the best of them, but I’d rather clear the air. :: And there it was, the obvious, as plain as day, undeniable, unavoidable, and unforgivable.:: :: Feeling something bubbling up inside her like a quiet lava geyser on Vulcan, T’Lea carefully returned her cup to its saucer with a soft “clink”, and shifted toward Tyr in her seat. What she was feeling inside was unidentifiable at the time, but would soon become clear as the words came out of her mouth.:: T’LEA: Very well. What would you like to discuss first? The fact that you should have killed me? Or the fact that you are a pathetic, coward and your non-action put everything I love in this world at risk? :: The words were a festering, weeping, infected wound so deep that T’Lea didn’t even realize that it was there until this very moment. And the venom she struck with was as quick as a cobra. She looked Tyr up and down where he sat, and in barely controlled anger spat her next words to him.:: T’Lea: You did this to yourself. ::The words were so heavy, so blatantly destructive and so utterly dismissive of the person they were directed at, he thought for a minute he’d misheard her.:: WALTAS::Visceral anger creeping into his voice:: Excuse me? T’LEA: You heard me. WALTAS::Turning to face her:: You mean by NOT killing you, by giving you a chance to be healed and returned to your family, and nearly being killed in the process, *I* am somehow a coward? :: She gave him a cold hard, arrogant stare, daring him to do more. Daring *herself* to do more.:: T’LEA: So you were listening. You didn’t have the balls to do what needed to be done, to finish it. Instead, you cowered behind your morals, your ethics, and your emotions, and as a result you put everyone in jeopardy everyone, including yourself, because you are weak. WALTAS::Hopping off his stool, ignoring the pain:: Who the frak do you think you are, daring to call ME a coward? The last I checked, spines don’t break themselves. You’re the one that’s hiding from everyone who cares about you. I see yours and Vetri’s body language. It’s obvious where you’re spending your nights, and where you’re NOT. At least I have the courage to FACE my challenges and overcome them. That’s why I’m still here. Because I have FRIENDS that care about me and wanted to see my get better. YOU, want to wallow in your fate and blame everyone else. ::Holding up a hand as she tried to interrupt:: I’M NOT FINISHED! :: The mention of her tattered relationship with Vetri, had T’Lea frothing with anger. She jumped off her stool, and then knocked it out of her way. Had she known about his break-up with Hella, or his drunken escapade with Irina, she would have thrown that back in his face, but alas, she was clueless to it all.:: T’LEA: Yes, you frelling are! You have no idea… NO IDEA what I was programmed to do, do you? You think it was some sort of unconscious joy-ride? Let me clue you in, sweetheart, I was fully aware. I felt and saw everything. You, and Toni, and anybody else that got in my way, were expendable meaningless sacks of flesh. But you weren’t the objective. You were *nothing*. I was going to kill my entire family, you stupid son of a [...]! Everyone, even T’Sara if you didn’t stop me! And you DIDN’T! You’d rather sacrifice yourself and everyone else than make the hard choice, the RIGHT choice. WALTAS: Oh, don’t EVEN go there. I KNOW what it’s like to be turned into an uncontrollable killing machine and turned against the people I love. Don’t preach to me like you’re the only one ever to be wounded in a place that doesn’t heal! ::Showing his forearm, carrying a long, discolored scar:: I had Borg nanites crawling through my veins and nearly killed my Captain AND my crew, and they risked EVERYTHING to save me and pull me back! But I guess the “logical” thing to do would have been to just kill me, right?! T’LEA: YES! I would have. In a heartbeat. WALTAS::Eyes narrowing:: You ungrateful [...]. :: Steeling her eyes right back at him, she leaned in, luckily there were two stool dividing their company, otherwise they would have been in each other’s faces.:: T’LEA: It’s called having a *spine*. WALTAS: If it weren't for that mercy you’d be cold and dead in the grave and I’d still be able to defend myself. And trust me, right now that’s the ONLY thing keeping me from KNOCKING YOU ON YOUR HALF-BREED [...]! T’LEA: You keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, Tyr. The truth is that the only reason you’re still standing here is because my WIFE had the guts to shoot me in the face at point blank range, and save your sorry, worthless [...]! :: And that was his fault too! If he had just killed her like she had been begging him to do in her mind, while she was under control of the malicious program, then Vetri would have never had to make the horrible decision to shoot T’Lea.:: :: At the end of her outburst she knocked over one of the stools sending it toppling in his direction. It didn't hit him, and that wasn't her purpose anyway, the act was simply to punctuate her departure.:: WALTAS::Calling after her:: You may have a spine but you [...] sure don’t have a heart! Be sure not to break an ankle when you dismount from that high horse, you self-righteous [...]! :: With her back to him she made it through the door way, and gave him the one-fingered universal sign to go frak himself.:: Lt. Commander T’Lea Chief Science Officer Duronis II Embassy / USS Thunder -and- Colonel Tyr Waltas Marine CO Duronis II Embassy / USS Thunder
  21. ((Counseling Suite, Embassy)) :: There had been yet another emergency request for AJ’s presence at the counseling suite, though this time, it couldn't be Irina. AJ stepped into the waiting room to see T’Lea awaiting her. :: James: T’Lea...step into my office, we can talk there. :: Without a word the Vulcan hybrid rose from her seat and followed the Counselor inside.:: :: It was a short walk, one that T’Lea wasn’t looking forward to, but she managed to put one foot in front of the other, and repeatedly remind herself of why she was doing this.:: :: Step-by-step her answers were plain and clear. She was doing this for her family, and for herself. Because if there was any hope of returning to some kind of normalcy, it had to be done, and it had to start here.:: ((Counselor's Office, Embassy)) :: AJ sat at the desk and offered the chair in front of it to T’Lea. :: James: I’m only passingly familiar with what happened, so lets start with what you remember. :: The redhead went straight to the point. There would be no worming around the objective of this meeting. Not that T’Lea wanted to weasel out of it. In fact, this was possibly the first time in her life that she actually *wanted* to be sitting is this chair.:: T’Lea: ::sighing:: Right… all right… let’s see… :: While the Counselor had given her the perfect opening to get the ball rolling, T’Lea found herself fumbling with how, and where exactly to start talking about the touchy subject.:: :: Then it came, one difficult, painful word at a time.:: :: Her voice may have been evenly controlled, and the events may have been delivered in a logical narrative, but the hybrid’s eyes gave up her emotions.:: :: There was anger. A *lot* of anger, but there was also an unhealthy amount of guilt and fear.:: :: She spoke of the illegal cybernetic implants, how they were meant to correct a flaw in herself (her marksmanship skills, or lack thereof), how they were supposed to make her better, how they were going to keep her family safe, and finally how they were used against her.:: :: She talked about the malicious program that had been unleashed in her cybernetic system, and how it had turned her into an assassin sent to kill her own family, and anyone that got in her way -- how Dal Selta had turned her into the very thing she was trying to protect her family from.:: :: Then she described what the program made her do to Turner and Waltas, and how helpless she’d been to stop it.:: :: By the time she ended her “report”, it was clear there was much more left unspoken.:: :: Aurora just listened and nodded. :: James: How do you feel right now? :: AJ could easily venture a guess, but she wasn’t about to voice her opinion, so she let the woman answer for herself. :: T’Lea: Untrustworthy. :: That summed it up. The other feelings were probably obvious to the Counselor; it was classic text-book stuff, but how was she supposed to function if she couldn’t trust herself?:: James: What happened to you was...horrific, I think we can all agree to that. I also believe, that both the crew and your family know that it wasn’t really you and that you are not to blame. You are just as much a victim here as they are, maybe even more so. :: Victim. There was one word she never thought she’d be associated with, and it [...]ed her off.:: T’Lea: What now then? I’m having frakking nightmares about murdering my loved ones. I can’t touch my own wife without recoiling in fear. I can’t even look at Tyr, or Toni without having flashbacks. What’s the solution here? James: My suggestion is this. Meditate, reflect, forgive yourself, and move on. I will also insist you come see me once a week so I can help you through this alright? :: She gave the Counselor a frank Vulcan eyebrow of criticism.:: T’Lea: That’s it? James: We’ll start our sessions as soon I come back from the Victory, in the mean time, talk to Della. Spend time with her and your kids. Its amazing how the comfort of family can heal wounds, especially after an ordeal such as this. I know you’re scared and so do they, but you have to face the fear in order to deal with it. No one can do that for you. :: The swear word that came out of T’Lea’s mouth as she got to her feet was sharp and biting, but also accepting of the advice. A part of her knew this would be the answer all along, and it certainly wasn’t going to be easy.:: T’Lea: So how do I do this? I’ve moved out of the house and I’m staying in a hotel room until things get… better. What am I supposed to do, have dates with my wife? :: It was spoken with sarcasm and meant to ridicule the whole idea that the counselor was presenting to her.:: James: If that’s what you feel you need to do before you can trust yourself enough to be with Della then yes! :: Aurora’s voice was concise, to the point, and dead serious. Aurora’s intense green eyes were trained on the hybrid and she wasn’t about to back down no matter how angry T’Lea was with her suggestion. :: :: Of course, T’Lea’s sarcastic suggestion was exactly what was expected of her. She resigned a sigh and agreed with a nod that she would try.:: T’Lea: What about Toni and Tyr? I almost killed them. What if they don’t want to see me? What then? James: I saw the way you were treated at the party, they were concerned about you. For once in your life T’Lea, let them. Putting up the tough girl act may work some of the time, but when it comes down to it, you’ve got a family who loves you beyond the stars and a crew that thinks of you as family. Apologize to them individually or as a group, they’ve probably already realized that it wasn’t your fault and the apology is more to help you be able to forgive yourself. :: Everything she *didn’t* want to hear was what she was being told. She rubbed at her shoulder, the one Tyr had sliced open, paced a few steps away from the Counselor’s desk toward the window so that the room wouldn’t feel like it was closing in on her.:: T’Lea: Forgive myself. ::she scoffed:: Everything that has happened is because of me. Perhaps I don’t deserve to be forgiven. :: Harsh words, but honest. She turned back to the Counselor.:: T’Lea: They deserve an apology. I know. It’s just… how? I have no right to ask them to forgive me. I ruined their lives, how can I ask anything from them after that? James: Take it one day at a time. Start by meditating in your hotel room then have Della over for dinner. Talk to her. Tell her everything about how you feel, and why you feel the way you do. Have open and honest conversations with her. :: She turned back to the window and shut down her emotions a little to say her next words. They sounded very Vulcany and straightforward.:: T’Lea: Being close to her causes great anxiety. Perhaps I should approach Tyr first. :: He had, after all, tried to talk to her in the ballroom the other night. It was just an excuse, and she knew it. So did the Counselor apparently.:: James: Start. With. Della. She is your wife. After the first week of talking to just Della, then see if you think you can talk to Tyr and Toni, if you need to, ask Della to go with you. She is capable of moral support, and she would do it in a heartbeat if asked. :: The Romu-vulc imbued herself with silence, closed her eyes and concentrated on the heat of the sun that was being magnified through the glass of the window that she was standing in front of.:: :: Everything the Counselor said was logical, understandable, and difficult to hear, but they would be even more difficult to do. What could she say in return to all of that? Nothing, except protest, and that was *not* why she was here.:: :: So she kept her feeling on the matter, and her mouth shut.:: :: It was clear the woman in front of Aurora was irritated, confused, scared, and a myriad of other emotions. However, AJ did note how hard it must have been for T’Lea to walk into this office, at all without being dragged in. AJ pulled out a PADD and typed up a prescription form to aid the symptoms of T’Lea’s PTSD. :: James: It’s a process, T’Lea. I never said it would be easy, just that it had to be done. I have just sent sickbay a list of prescription meds that should help ease the symptoms. I am prescribing you an antidepressant, sleep meds, and a short term anti anxiety medication. And before you get it into your head that I am not qualified to be handing out prescription medication I will have you know that I hold a Ph.D in Psychology as well as an M.D. specifically so I can handle situations such as these. I’ve included a pamphlet with the indicated dosages, how often they should be taken, and when you should start weaning yourself off the anti-anxiety meds. You can pick them up in sickbay as soon as we’re done here. :: The hybrid turned from the window and glanced over at the desk where the redhead was typing away at a data padd.:: T’Lea: I’m not here to question your authority, Counselor. :: She said plainly, and moved toward the desk with her hands clasped behind her back. There wasn’t much more to be said from T’Lea – she had her orders, it was just a question of, would she follow them?:: :: AJ kept typing on her PADD continually looking between T’Lea and the PADD. She typed a message to Della. :: ====== Della, I’ve spoken to T’Lea. She’s not in the best shape as one can imagine, as I am Victory bound for the next mission, I have instructed T’Lea to get a hotel room and arrange dates with you so that she can come to terms with what’s happened, she is also on medication. See if she’s improved in the first week, then offer moral support when she talks to Tyr and Toni. At the moment the best thing you can do for her is just be there and talk to her. Remind her that she is loved and that you won’t hold what happened against her. I know this will be hard on all of you but its a step in the right direction. Lt.JG. Dr. Aurora James - Embassy Counselor ====== :: T’Lea was looking at the Counselor expectantly when she finished typing.:: James: I didn’t give any information that breeches patient confidentiality T’Lea, but I did tell Della the roll I want her to take in your recovery. Despite how messed up Della may be herself, she will do anything she can to make sure you recover, of that I’m sure. Now it’s your turn T’Lea. Can you promise me right here and now that you will try to do everything in your power to ensure you make it through this including taking all of your meds as directed and taking it one day at a time? :: She disliked pills of any kind, however, on a temporary basis she would adhere to the Counselor’s instructions. If not, then what was the point of coming here?:: :: T’Lea gave the redhead a firm, committed nod.:: James: I’m glad to hear it. T’Lea: I’ll pick up the prescriptions now. :: She headed for the door, and on the way out briefly admitted her gratitude in a softly spoken, “Thank you.”:: James: You’re welcome. :: AJ smiled, and waited for T'Lea to be fully gone before submitting an official notes in her file and heading off to find Irina again. :: -- JP By: Lt. JG. Aurora James, AKA: AJ Counselor Embassy Duronis II - USS Thunder NCC - 70605-A & Lieutenant Commander T’Lea Chief Science Officer Embassy Duronis II - USS Thunder NCC - 70605-A
  22. (Embassy - Hotel - Suite 018)) :: It was more than she needed. It was a luxury hotel room specifically designed to pamper VIP’s -- that was what Della had arranged for T’Lea to stay in. It was a nice gesture, but a simple room and a bed would have sufficed. This place, she glanced at the expensive window treatments – this place had more space than she knew what to do with.:: :: No matter. The whole point of being here was to keep her family safe, and that meant removing herself from their lives.:: :: She picked up the bag that had been delivered earlier, and walked it into the bedroom, which to her wide-eyes looked fit for a Queen. A massive bed awaited her, and it was decked out in rows of puffy pillows and a hand-embroidered floral duvet. The lighting fixtures were polished in a high luster latinum color, and the rugs overlaying the glossy tile floors were, no doubt, made by local weavers.:: :: All of the comfort that surrounded T’Lea didn’t even register on her scale of caring in that moment. There was nothing she could see beyond the dark thoughts that plagued her. And so, without realizing it, she turned a blind eye to it all and tossed the bag onto the bed as she headed for the shower.:: :: Inside the bathroom were more of the same high-class expectations that went unnoticed. T’Lea removed the assorted bathing accessories from the counter, completely missing the fact that Della had sent something special – a bottle of her favorite Vulcan milk bath.:: :: A very hot shower was set, and gain, nothing except the cancerous thoughts in T’Lea’s mind had her attention.:: :: Steam filled the room, and the moisture started to cling to everything, even T’Lea’s bare skin. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and her image beckoned her closer. She leaned in to examine herself – to see what lurked behind her eyes...:: :: There it was, the cybernetic implant lens in her right eye -- the one that did the targeting, the one that gave her the fine details of how best to kill. She concentrated, trying to see that the program was still running somewhere inside her, but all she saw was a blue iris staring back at her, until the mirror fogged up, taking her image away with it.:: :: It was true. The optical targeting system was offline. The vital organ mapping software was offline. The reflexive muscle weave in her arms and hands were offline. She couldn’t make the cybernetics operate even if she’d wanted to, and yet she still felt completely helpless, and out of control.:: :: Stepping out of her dress, she submitted herself to the high pulse of hot water in the shower, and tried to relax.:: :: It didn’t help.:: ((Later – 0400 hours)) :: T’Lea rolled over and felt a warm body next to her in bed. Arms pulled her close, a nose nuzzled her neck, and then lips breathed a sigh of contentment. The hybrid Vulcan reciprocated, until the haze of sleep rolled away from her mind, and logic set in.:: :: Her eyes popped open with force, and she groggily focused on the spotted skin that was snuggling against her.:: :: It was Della?:: :: It *was* Della.:: :: A flash-flood of questions swept her thoughts -- how did Della get in here, when did she get in here, what was she doing here?:: T’Lea: K’diwa? :: The response was a happy groan, and the Trill shifted onto her back, expecting T’Lea to join her, however, the move revealed a pool of blood that had soaked through the clean white sheets.:: :: The smile of love Della gave her was the total opposite of T’Lea’s terrified expression.:: :: Words were uttered from frantic lips as T’Lea jerked back the sheets and saw the gaping hole in the Trill’s abdomen, right where the symbiot should have been.:: :: Horror struck the hybrid and a chaotic scramble sent her falling off the bed and to the floor. The jolt smacked of something wet in her hand. She looked down and there, beneath her wife’s blood was the Vetri symbiot crushed and limp in her fist.:: :: The sound that wailed from T’Lea’s throat was that of a pathetic wounded animal caught in a hunter’s primitive mechanical trap. It was guttural and cruel.:: :: She dropped the dead symbiot, and crawled back on the floor until she felt herself bump into something behind her.:: :: When T’Lea looked back there stood Gina with half of her skull missing, and T’Sara with a crooked broken neck, smiling at her, as if all were merry and bright.:: :: That’s when the sound of her own scream woke her up.:: :: Panicked, and with her heart racing at speeds that would have sent a cardiac unit into an emergency response, T’Lea shakily looked around the room, gasping for breath, and grasping for understanding.:: :: No one was there. Not a soul. Just a darkened, quiet, still room with a slight breeze moving in from the open balcony doors.:: :: It had been a nightmare. A sadistic, horrific dream.:: :: A dream that was too close to being real. And that, indeed, was the scariest part of this whole ordeal.:: :: A hearty swear word exhaled from T’Lea’s dry, coarse throat. She reached for the glass of water on the nightstand, but her hand bumped into a holo-photo of her family that Della had packed for her. She hesitated at the water, and ended up taking the photo instead.:: :: It was a picture perfect representation of what T’Lea’s life had been just a few short months ago. The image had been taken on the beach at her wedding. It was a casual family photo with Gina, T’Sara, T’Lea and Della smiling. Happy. Together.:: :: It greatly pained T’Lea to see what she had lost, and it only amplified the feeling that she would never have that happiness again.:: :: Abruptly she shut the image down, ignored the teardrop escaping from her eye, and crawled out of bed. She snagged the glass of water from the nightstand on the way to the balcony, and inhaled the fresh air that was circulating in the room to refute the tightening in her chest.:: :: Outside were the Embassy grounds, and very little movement – just the nightshift of security personnel doing their job. Nothing more, since most sane people were asleep.:: :: There T’Lea stood, staring into the darkness of early morning, feeling as empty as the hushed scene outside. She sipped from her glass and gripped the metal railing in front of her until her knuckles turned pale green. There were a few scattered lights in the distance, she noted. One of those twinkling pearls of light may have been the Ambassador’s residence, her home, but she couldn’t be sure.:: :: She wondered what it would take to get back there, to get back to a place where she felt that her family was safe, and that she could trust herself to be around them?:: :: She wanted that badly, but was it even possible? Could she ever find her way home to them after what had happened?:: :: She let go of the rail, and stepped back to watch the sky.:: :: The sun was slow to rise, but she patiently waited, and at the first sign of daybreak she put in an urgent request to see Counselor James.:: TBC Lieutenant Commander T’Lea Chief Science Officer Embassy Duronis II - USS Thunder NCC - 70605-A
  23. I was 7 and a half. I remember my parents discussing is it okay for me to be awake that late. Between my mom who was pointing that I'm only seven and dad who was even more zealous pointing that I'm seven and a HALF, daddy won and I was watching Voyager from the first episode. It was a hard time for us, I've lost my twin sister to leukemia few months prior. My parents were rarely talking to each other and watching Voyager all together united us again.
  24. I'm using Microsoft Office Word to write my sims. My mother told me of the way to avoid formatting errors in my sims. When you are saving the document save it as a plain text. I then open that format clean document and copy sim from it to gmail.
  25. This time travel is a loop - if they didn't crash they would never meet their descendants and would never crash and would never meet their.... I wouldn't worry what will happen if I escape, because he causality loop as a predestination paradox theory proves whatever we do the loop will exist. I would maybe stay a bit longer and try to investigate how both can happen, our escape and crash at the same time, but still would leave to return to my family and life in the present if by any means possible.
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