Gogigobo Fairhug

What a great description of a Counselor's role from @Ashley Yael. 👏🏻

I love little touches like this. Nice one @Alex Forsyth! 😂

Another great shore leave sim on Denali Station, courtesy of @John Kendrick 👏🏻 ((Bridge, Deck 1, USS EAGLE)) Falt: Helm, lay in a course for home. The ship's red alert status cast a crimson glow across John's face as he stared up at the viewscreen, where the remnants of the Reaver ship drifted silently in space. His breathing grew more rapid and the rhythm of his heart throbbed in his ears. Tomas's voice sounded distant, like an echo from a different world. Kendrick: Home. The word seemed to leave his mouth in slow motion, as if time had slowed down around him. Raimor: =/\= Commander Dekas suffered a breakage in his left wing. Please advise the Eagle’s medical staff- =/\= Suddenly, Dekas appeared in front of his tactical station, cradling his left wing in his hands. As he opened his beak to speak, John was surprised to hear Katrina's voice coming from the Aurelian’s officer's beak, instead of Dekas's. Dekas/Pelley: Look what you did to me, John. Startled by the sudden appearance of his friend, John stumbled backwards. Instead of landing on the console behind him, he fell to the ground and found himself staring up at a blood-red sky, with asteroids piercing through the atmosphere. As he got back up on his feet and looked around, he realized he was standing in the heart of the Administrative Area of the City - or at least what remained of it. The devastating bombardment of asteroids had left the vast majority of the area in ruins. Only one building still stood, Soldotna, but even it was slowly crumbling away. Pelley: You never liked it here anyway. I guess you’re happy now. He turned around and faced a heart-wrenching scene: Katrina was encompassed by flames, and behind her stood the charred bodies of Dekas, Falt, and T’Lea. He reached out his hands to pull Katrina from the flames, but she started laughing frantically as the bodies of Dekas, Falt, and T’Lea turned to ashes before his eyes. Kendrick: ::shouting:: No!!!! ((Pelley’s Quarters, level 21, Anchorage)) John's eyes snapped open as he found himself staring at the ceiling, with a hand resting on his sweat-covered chest. His heart was pounding so hard, it felt like it wanted to jump straight out of his body. Kendrick: ::slightly disorientated:: What happened? Where am I? Pelley: It’s okay, baby. It was just a bad dream. He looked to his side and smiled as he recognized the contours of Katrina’s face in the dark, her features illuminated by the faint glow of the city lights outside. He felt his pulse slowly returning to normal and reached out to place his hand on hers, comforted by her presence. Pelley: Was it the same dream as last night? John closed his eyes again and placed the back of his hand on his forehead. Kendrick: Yeah. He felt her fingers gently drawing circles on his chest. Pelley: Maybe you should talk to Counsellor Yael? He opened his eyes again. Kendrick: Talking to a Counsellor won’t keep this Station safe from an asteroid rain. He threw off the sheets, rolled to his side, and swung his legs over the edge and stepped out of bed. Pelley: Maybe not, but it's clear that the attack on the Station is weighing heavily on you. Speaking to a counsellor might help you put things into perspective. He walked over to the window, leaned with his arm against the glass, and rested his forehead on his arm as he gazed across the City. Kendrick: Everything looks so small from up here. So ::pauses:: vulnerable. He observed workbees still flying criss-cross across the City, despite that it was already after midnight. The repairs continued around the clock, 26 hours a day. Kendrick: I was trained to protect a starship. How the hell am I supposed to protect an entire City? Katrina stepped out of bed and walked towards him. Pelley: Don’t be so hard on yourself. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against him. Pelley: You’ll figure it out. ::gently giving him a kiss in the neck:: Just like you always do. John continued to stare into the distance, longing to be anywhere but here right now. END === Lieutenant Commander John Kendrick Chief Security and Tactical DENALI STATION J239801JK3

Pluck me! 🤣 @Dekas at it again with the last minute transporter comments!

I love @Dekas' family! ((Anchorage Tower, Dekas & Kettick’s Apartment, Floor 35/36, Denali Station)) ((Early afternoon on Denali, Late night Aurelia time. Interplanetary Timezones, euf.)) It was that time again. Time to talk to his family. But this time he felt less awkward about it. It wasn’t going to be a short hour and then a while before it happened again. No. This one was to let them know they’d be seeing him in person soon, if not a few friends. Still, he maybe thought a little too hard about whether his feathers looked all right before he made the call. And the few seconds it took for them to answer felt far longer than it actually was. Daf: Dekas! Dekas: Shav’aa! (Aurelian for: “Dad!”) You know I expected it would be mom. It usually is, though it is nice for you both to mix it up a little. Daf: Zuka will be around in a few minutes. She always loves talking to you. But Keso and his family stopped by and are staying the night. It’s never just a quick goodnight when there are six grandchildren to say goodnight to with your mom around. They all just want to stay up and keep chatting, and she almost can’t refuse the conversation. ::a pause to shake his head:: Did you know he and Serri are planning on having more soon? Getting close to making it a family tradition to hatch a huge nest of fledglings over there. Dekas: Do you think they’ll beat your record of thirteen? Daf: They just might. ::he clicked his beak in amusement:: How are you? Hearing an Aurelian ask that question, and knowing for a fact he could be honest about it relieved him instantly of one layer of stress. Dekas: ::sighing:: I could be better. I hurt my wing recently, and I’ve been extremely stressed and feeling a bit like I could pull my feathers out, and I feel like I haven’t given myself a break. I feel like I can’t. It’s like I can’t stop. And now I almost have to. But on the bright side, I can make it into a visit home? The physical therapy would be nice, I’ll even see if I can’t convince a few others to come along with me. I think a few of them would really enjoy it. And the emotional support would be nice. Daf: Well you know we have more than enough space for some people in this house if they want an easy place to stay. :::he looked over his shoulder as a door opened quietly behind him and sighed fondly.:: Hello, my love. Zuka sat down and leaned her head affectionately on the top of Daf’s to acknowledge and return the adoration, but otherwise spoke to Dekas. Zuka: Keso and company say a very enthusiastic hello. As if on cue, there seemed to echo the sound of a few of those hellos from somewhere in the background of the audio. Zuka: ::looking back toward the door:: I don't know if they managed to hear me, or if that was just really good timing. But any friend of yours is welcome to be a temporary baby bird in our nest. Dekas: ::with a quiet laugh:: I don’t know how they’d feel about you calling them that. Zuka: They don’t have to immediately know that’s what’s happening. Just that they’re being cared for while they’re here. It breaks the tension between new people to treat them like family outright. Dekas: But you’d tell them. Zuka: It’s true, I don’t like my intentions to be confused. I don’t know why people get so funny about it. But I can try to refrain for you if it would make you more comfortable. Dekas was quiet for a second, he was tempted to thank her for saving some sort of “embarrassment” adjacent feeling. And then he shook his head out of it. Dekas: You know, I actually think it’s best they meet an Aurelian on their grounds. You can be as honest and open as you like. Zuka: Oh good, I probably would have said it anyway. ::a wink:: I'm happy we'll get to see you, more than anything. Daf: Agreed. We miss having you over here. Dekas: Well, then consider it a plan, because I miss being there. ::a beat:: Actually, can I ask a favor if anyone comes with me? Zuka: Absolutely. If it was possible for him to smirk with a beak, he did. Dekas: Marvelous. NT, but TBC… — (OOC: I plan on starting up the Aurelian Vacation thread of things in the next day or so, tagging two people specifically in that to start, but also leaving an open “any” tag just in case others want to also be in on the Aurelian trip, too. But that ending bit does indicate he’s going to try to cause just a little bit of harmless Avian mischief on the way.) Lt. Commander Dekas Chief Engineer Denali Station J239802D12 Pronouns: They/she (player), He/him (character)

This is a lovely way to wrap up a mission from Ensign Raimor. 👌🏻

Shucks! Thanks, guys. 😊

Hey, even when radioactive asteroids are falling on your head, you have to keep on keeping on! 😂

Worst. Team building exercise. Ever! 🤣 @Sera

Very Monty Python-esque from @Alex Forsyth here. 😂

Exemplary wibbly wobbly timey wimey simming from @Sal Taybrim! "So what is it?!" 😜 (( Trauma Center Eight, Main Medical Facility, Starbase 118 )) Foster: Come on you bastard, live… The words were gritted through clenched teeth as Wyn Foster tried to use every ounce of his stubbornness and will to ensure his patient would live. And then everything went completely and utterly sideways. Zumagi: Get OUT of MY surgery! He could hear the leonine roar in Zumagi’s tone as the massive Bajoran surged forward and made his body the block in the doorway that separated the assassin from the surgical suite. Wyn pinned his antennae down to the top of his head, drew in another short breath and pushed the energy in the regeneration tool just a little higher. Please just seal this tear. Please let this artery stabilize. Nniol: Get out of my way! Disruptor fire lanced out and he was aware that Ivin pushed forward. Wyn imagined that he had grabbed the assassin’s hand trying to direct the fire away from innocents. Or patients. Or him. He would be a blue stinky liar if he said he wasn’t terrified right now. But terror would have to sit down and shut up for a moment, he had a patient to save. Zumagi: Make me. That’s right, taunt the super dangerous guy. Wyn pushed the oxygen a little higher. He had to get the blood oxygen levels up to a point where he could let the life support take over. So he could stop Praetor’s heart and fix the extensive valve damage. Nniol: damn you… And that’s when something happened. Wyn was focused totally on the very careful process of getting Praetor’s heart to stop without jeopardizing his brain health. But the intonation of the assassin gave him the slightest clue that something was about to go down. Orange disruptor fire lanced out again. This time with Zumagi dodging for his life several shots slipped past his guard and slammed into the back wall of the surgical suite. Wyn’s antennae were ringing and his vision when white for a second. Blinking constantly, as it clearer he could hear the shrill wail of alarms. That last shot cut life support. Prateor, heart stopped, started to plummet into oblivion. Foster: no, no no no no… He started to work, frantically fast, trying every single thing he could think of to preserve this life. Zumagi: Get out of my sight, kasvak. He could hear the meaty thump of a foot onto flesh. The scream. The hatred. The anger. And the Praetor flatlined. Wyn gave a strangled cry. He could try to cryofreeze the body, but that was a last ditch effort. And now there was brain damage. His old nemesis. No one was the same after brain damage. And still he kept trying. Anything, everything to save his patient. And just as he was about to curse in despair, giving up all hope, something happened. There was a static pop. And the entire world turned sideways. Foster: Come on you bastard, live… The words were gritted through clenched teeth as Wyn Foster tried to use every ounce of his stubbornness and will to ensure his patient would live. Wait a second. What in the seven layers of Gret’hor was going on? How was he here again? He looked down. Prateor was alive! And the tear wasn’t fixed yet… Oh crap, fix that tear. Zumagi: Get OUT of MY surgery! He could hear the leonine roar in Zumagi’s tone as the massive Bajoran surged forward and made his body the block in the doorway that separated the assassin from the surgical suite. Oh, gods, he didn’t have much time. Work faster, Wyn! Think faster, Wyn! No, stop. Don’t think about how strange this is or why it[‘s happening. Act. Foster: Somebody cover the door! Before he shoots! Nniol: Get out of my way! The trauma team who wasn’t directly assisting surgery hustled. Someone pulled a laser scalper and pulled the door override panel off. Wyn was glad someone had more technical skills than he had. If a life or death situation came down to Wyn Foster having the engineering knowledge to block a door… they would all die. He slept through Engineering 101. Because he had spent all his nights doubling up on surgical intern work. Which was, incidentally why Praetor wasn’t dead yet. Come on, artery. Close. He would be a blue stinky liar if he said he wasn’t terrified right now. On this second go around the stress had mingled with the terror to make his entire body feel ice cold. Like he had been woken up by getting dumped into a pool of ice water. There was that pins and needles clod shock feeling on his skin. Please let this time be different. Zumagi: Make me. Come on Ivin, don’t die. As the arterial tear closed and the artery held stable, Wyn worked on increasing the oxygen levels in the blood. He wished he could also increase the oxygen levels in his blood. His breath was coming in with short little pants. Nniol: damn you… Oh, gods, here it comes… Orange disruptor fire lanced out again. This time with Zumagi dodging for his life several shots slipped past his guard. And slammed into the closed door. Sparks erupted from the access panel and one of the orderlies shrieked as the surge burned his hands. That was a yelp of pain, but not one of death. Burns could be easily fixed. Praetor was… Alive. Zumagi: Get out of my sight, kasvak. If he was paying attention he could be learning all the fun curse words right now. He was not paying attention. He was monitoring the blood oxygen levels. And… stopping the heart. Life support held strong. Wyn was barely breathing as he started working on the tear in the left atrium. Slowly building up new layers of tissue with biomaterial to patch over and fuse into the existing tissue. The body would heal and recycle the biomatter. And it was… working. The door opened. It was quiet. Well, kinda quiet. A little quiet. There were injured doctors, nurses and orderlies. Ivin was breathing. Big heaving breaths as if he was confused as to what the heck just went on. Wyn tested his voice. It was thin and thready and it sounded like it was ready to crack. Foster: Is that guy gone? Praetor’s not dead, should have been dead, what the hell happened… time is messed up… somebody come help! Zumagi: Wait, he’s fine and alive? That’s a good thing, that’s very good. He was not dead. That was a very good thing. The last thing Wyn needed was an entire Romulan empire wanting to kill him for not saving their Praetor. Foster: Fine? Uh, no. But alive? Yes. Now. I swear he died, then time reversed and this time we didn’t have a disruptor bolt but life support so his blood oxygen is … well… it’s not great but I’ll take it. Oh and I also stopped his heart and I’m working on the atrial damage. You know, add those tiny details at the end. Zumagi: What the hell. You know what, I’m not complaining, I’ll take it. Are you injured? We’ve got a lot more injured now. Dammit! Injured? No. Absolutely emotionally wrung out and exhausted? Yes. He had about two more hours in him before he would completely collapse. There was the boon and the bane of his accelerated Andorian metabolism all in one. Foster: I didn’t take any damage. Some others were caught in the crossfire. Zumagi: Let’s get the Praetor sorted and stable, then we can help the others. Praetor needs to be a priority patient till he’s stable. He tipped his antennae downwards in assent. Foster: You’re right. Release whoever is available on the trauma teams to treat the injured. At the very least they were already in a trauma bay. That was good, right? Zumagi: ? Foster: We’re back where we were before, except the Aorta tear is mended and of I can fix the atrial and myocardial damage then we’ve got a working circulatory system and we can put all efforts into removing any remaining shrapnel and fixing that damage. Zumagi: ? He drew in a sharp breath and considered that. They would, sooner or later, be exhausted – both of them. They needed to get Praetor to a point where the severe damage was treated and the patient was stabilized, allowing another set of surgeons to seek and fix any minor damage. Foster: We need to make sure the lungs are functioning to full capacity so that we keep proper blood oxygenation levels – and remove any of the shrapnel you located as a critical or level 1 damage issue. After that we can check vitals and see if we can pull in backup. Zumagi: ? Foster: You just fought off a rabid assassin. That’s no slouch move. At this point he was working a fairly routine set of movements to mend the deep tear in the heart tissue. With the heart stilled it was almost a soothing job. If life support and vitals stayed steady. Zumagi: ? ~*~ tags/tbc ~*~ Lt Commander Shar’Wyn Foster Chief Surgeon StarBase 118 Ops "Why do we fly? Because we have dreamt of it for so long that we must" ~Julian Beck E239010ST0

@Kettick 😂👌🏻

@Alex Forsyth haven't we all had this thought at some point in our lives? 🤣

@Yael what could be more normal? 😂

Love this little glimpse into @TLea's inner workings.

That is far more badass than the usual pirate/parrot dynamic. 🤣

@Dekas is probably a bit too big to sit on Faela's shoulder, though. 🤔😂

@Dekas want a cracker? 😜

@Serala J'Lynn would give that a standing ovation...if she were in the room. 😅

Love this opening @Obsius Sill-con 😂

@Dekas hilarious. 😂

You're not the only one @Freck😂

Welcome back! 😊

Love this analogy @Kettick

Very touching @Aratta ((Arboretum, Starfleet Research Station, Ring 42)) The public gateway transporter has just delivered the Bajoran Ensign right outside the incomplete and developing Research Station. Despite the crates, boxes, antigravity sleds and various containers scattered along the way to the research center, the place had an unmistakable beauty. Many tree and plant lifeforms could be seen in the background, revealing the direction for the future arboretum. Commander Falt told him that there was a peaceful lake with a small central island, right next to the Arboretum, and Eriddu thought it would be an ideal place for the burial ritual. He walked towards the gray bushes carrying a cubical wooden box in one hand and a bottle of water with a bizarre seed inside in the other. The seed was from the Timpok tree, a common type of flora found in the province of Kendra on the planet Bajor. Despite all the historical events of that place, this particular tree was part of his childhood memories with his mother. Eleven years ago, he had lost his mother during an undercover mission and his life changed drastically after that. Forced to live with his uncle on New Bajor, then with his biological father on Earth, he hasn't heard from his mother's disappearance for quite some time. Now he had her ashes and was about to find a place to bury her. At least he would be able to pick a place where he could pay his respects from time to time. On the way to the lake, the Bajoran officer nodded to a few crewmen and a few civilians, but none of them stopped his walk or bothered him in any way. It seemed that Commander Falt had explained in advance the purpose of his presence there. At the edge of the lake, he found a small antigrav sled with a long pole carefully laid out for him to use. The central island was just a few meters from the shore, but there was still no bridge or walkway built on the site. So that would be his transport across the lake. Aratta: ::with sad expression:: C’mon! Let 's do this. He jumped on the sled, giving it some momentum. Struggling to keep his balance and avoid dropping the precious urn into the lake, he began his journey towards the small island. After a few minutes he arrived at the small open hill, beautiful bedecked with colorful flowers. Aratta: Lindoya! ::teary eyes:: Mother! Before the excruciating emotion could overtake him, he bent his knees to the ground and began to dig with his bare hands, following an old tradition. He soon realized that if he didn't do it quickly, he wouldn't be able to do it anymore. Aratta: I therefore commit your remains to the ground… ::breathing deeply:: ashes to ashes, dust to dust … ::choked voice:: Almost crying, he took the wooden cubic urn and placed it carefully over the small hole he had dug. It was only about a foot deep, more than enough to put the seed and cover it with soil. Aratta: May this seed bring once again your fruits to this world. ::he lay down the timpok seed over the urn:: With that last sentence, he quickly covered the seed with soil. Then he took the bottle and watered the spot where he had just placed his mother's ashes. Aratta: Let life bloom once more! ::closed eyes:: Tradition has it that if you could actually say goodbye to your loved one, the seed would grow strong and tall. Otherwise, if you are still attached to the person, the seed will not bear fruit. In that case, a lifetime of sadness and pain may follow the individual. But before he could complete the ritual, he heard a strange, loud hiss. Startled, he quickly opened his eyes and to his astonishment he was no longer in the lake. A vast, massive metal dome had completely replaced the lake. He turned, trying to identify any landmarks, but he couldn't find any. Eriddu didn't even know where the light that illuminated that structure came from. Confused and scared, he lowered his head, preparing to stand up, but in the blink of an eye, the landscape returned to the previous one. He stood up and felt a shiver run down his spine. Aratta: What was that? ::eyes wide open:: ----- Ensign Aratta Eriddu Science Officer Denali Station J239903EA1