Genkos Adea

April 6, 2022

Welcome!

March 17, 2022

The Star Trek franchise has always been known for its amazing make-up and prosthetic work. The franchise is also responsible for some of the most iconic alien races in science fiction.

Makeup artists from different series have been nominated for and won different awards for their work. In 2017, the Society of Makeup Artists awarded Nancie Langlois as their Lifetime Achievement Award recipient for her work on Star Trek: The Next Generation. Vanity Fair's Best Star Trek Makeup Artist Award goes to Joel Harlow. He has been nominated for his work on Star Trek: Beyond, Star Trek: Discovery, and Star Trek: The Next Generation. This is the first time the makeup artist has won the award. His work was praised for being "so good that it’s hard to tell where the prosthetic ends and the actor begins."

The best makeup artistry in the Star Trek series would have to go to Michael Westmore who has been working on the show since 1987. He has won five Emmy Awards for his work on Star Trek: The Next Generation and Star Trek: Voyager, as well as an Oscar for his work on James Cameron’s Avatar (2009).

The Andorian species in Star Trek: The Original Series is one example of a great makeup job. They have blue skin and antennae which were done in a way that was very believable and realistic for the time period it was made in. This is also true for their eyes which were done in such a way that they looked like they had eyelids.

Throw forward to the recent movies, and we find Joel Harlow and Don Lanning sculpting and designing the Reptilicus alien species—looking a little Cardassian—creating the scaled skin and ridges around the face to represent the curl of the ear. They look so life like, with their addition of amber-coloured reptilian eyes and sharpened teeth.

We can't really say that there is a single character from any of the Star Trek series that features the best makeup artistry. It would be more accurate to say that all of them have some pretty impressive makeup artists.

March 1, 2022

Welcome to the fleet! Twas a pleasure to train you!

February 17, 2022

February is Black History Month in America, and as such, we thought we would honour this month by looking to the future! Now, Star Trek has had some absolutely fantastic black actors and characters in their long history on screen, but we would like to know; who would you like to see more of?

First up, we have the first African-American Captain in his own series, the brilliant, the sometimes bearded, Benjamin Sisko played by Avery Brooks. One of my personal favourite all-time Trek episodes is The Visitor, a story that focuses on the father-son relationship between Benjamin and his son Jake. This would be a great relationship to come back to - how has the intervening time (and Prophethood) changed them, and the world around them? And can we bring Kasidy Yates back at the same time too, please?

Throwing back to the first season of The Next Generation (we know, we know), Tryla Scott wowed the audience as Captain of the USS Renegade. Unfortunately, she suffered an unknown fate at the hands of the parasites, attempting to take over Starfleet Command. As a strong Captain, it would be fantastically interesting to see what happened to her. Maybe we'll see in a new series.

The most prolific character/actor in Star Fleet history (please don't @me if I'm wrong) is the brilliant Michael Dorn as Worf, son of Mogh. One of the most requested solo series that I've seen on the web is a chance to see Worf back on our screens. Would you like to see him come back as a Captain, still balancing a Starfleet with his Klingon heritage?

And what about my wife's favourite character, the fabulous Tuvok, as played by Tim Russ? Arguably the greatest Vulcan we've seen on screen, Tuvok was the backbone of Voyager who had fantastically different relationships with all the different crewmen of that lost ship. Could he come back? I'd love to see him in the "modern" day; how has Voyager's return changed his life, and does he still see his old friends?

There are, of course, lots of other brilliant black characters and actors; far too many to cover here, but perhaps you can let us know in the comments if there are other characters you'd rather see return? Perhaps you'd like to see the continuing adventures of Geordi LeForge or what Daystrom gets up to in his eponymous Institute.

Finally, we would be absolutely amiss not to honour three key black characters in the Star Trek universe, all of whom hold a special place in our hearts. First is that of Beckett Mariner, the lead of Lower Decks (possibly one of the most gif'd shows on our Discord), voiced by the incomparable Tawny Newsome.
Then we have the first black female captain, Michael Burnham; delightfully played by the great Sonequa Martin-Green. And finally, we have the legend that is Nyota Uhura, played originally by the heinous Nichelle Nichols, and soon to be back on our screens in Strange New Worlds (which I'm very much looking forward to) and to be played by Celia Rose Gooding.

January 30, 2022

Came here to add this, glad you did it first. A beautiful sim.

January 23, 2022

@Yalu @Talos Dakora have done a masterful job here, grilling through the last mission's ashes for delicious morsels of character development and meaty relationships. I'm sorry, the fact they set this at the Burger Nagus has made me hungry...

(( Burger Nagus, Deck 227/228, Deep Space 224 ))

It was the lunchtime rush at the Ferengi burger joint, and the crowd was bustling. The Ferengi interpretation of historical Earth fast food was, Yogan’s human friends had told him, a faithful recreation of the original in both price and quality. If nothing else, it was an experience, and Yogan had never met a burger he didn’t like. He wasn’t certain whether Talos Dakora would find the cuisine palatable, but this was the only place on the station that served burgers. And the only way to determine if the Betazoid was meant to be an honorary Yalu was to chat over a pair of Double DaiMon Bacon Burgers with cheese.

Yalu: ::points to menuboard:: I don’t know who DaiMon Bacon is, but that’s the burger I always get. It comes with fries. You can get a salad instead, but they always leave the lettuce in the fryer too long and it gets gross.

Talos stepped up to the counter beside Yogan and surveyed the options on offer. He hadn’t really had an opinion of the Terran meat sandwich that the Trill was so fond of before they’d made the switch, but now the little holographic image next to the DaiMon Bacon burger did cause his stomach to rumble a little.

Yogan’s comment about the lettuce in the fryer caused his nose to scrunch up a bit as he replied.

Dakora: ::Uncertainly:: I guess I’ll do the fries then?

They finally got to the first place in line, and a diminutive Ferengi with a name tag that read “LARF” beckoned them up to the counter.

Larf: Welcome to Burger Nagus, where you can taste the flavor in your lobes. Can I take your order?

Yalu: Yeah, I’ll have the Double DaiMon Bacon Burger with extra cheese, and to drink, I’ll have an Aquasition. ::beat:: Oh, can I get extra grolv and the flarn on the side, please?

Larf: ::shouts back to kitchen:: Extra grolv! Flarn on the side!

Yalu: ::gestures to Talos:: And whatever my friend would like, please.

Clearly, not all of Yogan’s memories of burger-enjoyment had been shared with Talos, because he didn’t recognize a good portion of the words he’d used to order.

Fortunately, Talos had years of in-depth training that allowed him to adapt and overcome even the most challenging of circumstances. He leveraged these powerful skills as he ordered.

Dakora: I’ll have the same, thanks.

Yogan gestured to a large, illuminated sign above the order counter, on which was written in a dozen Alpha Quadrant languages: “SATISFACTION NOT GUARANTEED.”

Yalu: Probably best not to get your hopes up.

He glanced up at the Trill with a lopsided grin.

Dakora: I accidentally skipped breakfast. ::A growl from his stomach accentuated the point.:: I don’t think it’d matter what they put on my plate at this point.

Yogan handed over a bundle of latinum strips to Larf and received a holo-chip in exchange. On making contact with Yogan’s hand, the chip activated and the number 125 floated ten centimeters in midair, rotating slowly. They waded through the crowded tables to an empty one on the opposite end of the restaurant, and Yogan dropped the chip on the sticky tabletop as he sat down. The upbeat and bustling atmosphere of Burger Nagus contrasted somewhat with the tone of the conversation Yogan wanted to have.

Yalu: So, Talos. How’s your brain?

Thus far Yogan’s mind had sort of blended into the noise of the burger joint’s lunch crowd, but some mixture of their proximity at the little table-for-two and the sudden genuine question brought it to the forefront.

Talos drummed his fingers on the table a bit, nervously.

Dakora: Yeah, uh… ::He smiled unconvincingly.:: Good. Fine. Thanks. How about you?

Yogan had spent the trip back to DS224 and the time since Excalibur arrived pondering the question. He’d asked a few other crew members who’d experienced interspecies swaps if there were any lingering effects on them once everything was put right. Disorientation, confusion, and adjustment fatigue were common, but the extent to which Yogan and Talos had… commingled… seemed to be a peculiarity of the orbs’ influence on a Joined Trill and a Betazoid in particular.

Yalu: To be honest, I’m having a bit of a time with it. Your consciousness wasn’t in my body for long, but it was long enough to…

Yogan hesitated. His work in intelligence perhaps being the exception, Talos didn’t seem like the kind of person who lived a secretive life. Still, one should always have the right to choose which personal details to share and which to keep private. Talos was not given that choice.

Yalu: Your consciousness was in my brain long enough for your memories to be shared with the symbiont. In a way, it’s as if you and Yalu were Joined. Just like Yalu was Joined with Zedro and–– ::beat:: well, you know all their names by now. I just wanted to see how you were doing, and whether there’s anything floating around in that Betazoid brain of yours that I could help with.

Opening up wasn’t the problem. Talos was as in-touch with his feelings as any other functional person, but it was the delicate subject matter and the implication of the whole thing that was tripping him up. A polite person might’ve called him a people-pleaser, but trained professionals had called him possessed-of-an-unhealthy-need-for-approval. Whatever. Mugato, Gumato.

Dakora: I guess… ::He shrugged.:: I guess I’m still kind of processing it all. I’m back in my body, but the memories and the feelings they shared with me are making it hard to just… be myself again. You know?

Yogan nodded. It was hard to put into words, and for a moment, he wished he still had the telepathic abilities that belonged to Talos.

Yalu: I know. I’ve spent seven years balancing the seven lifetimes of experience I have from Yalu. And now there’s an eighth one in there. Yours.

Nodding along as Yogan spoke, Talos tried hard to ignore the fact that he’d just seen the Ferengi fry cook drop something on the floor, pick it up, dust it off and put it back on a plate in the kitchen behind him.

Yalu: Your telepathy was overwhelming. Amazing, but overwhelming. I still remember some of the things I ‘heard,’ and so I figured the experience might have imprinted on your memory in a more, shall we say, robust way than a non-telepath’s.

It was an extraordinarily circuitous way for Yogan to ask, “Hey, what all do you know about me, and how worried should I be about it?” Of course, verbal gymnastics were less effective in conversation with a Betazoid, who could just aim their telepathic antennae and get the score. Yogan wasn’t sure whether Talos was doing just that, or if he was simply inferring exactly what Yogan was implying, but either way, he seemed to pick up what was being put down.

Dakora: I’ve still got a lot of it. The memories and, uh, experiences that were explicitly shared with me during the swap are a part of me now. It’s hard to separate them from my own memories at this point.

He shifted a bit in his chair, worried that he’d made that sound like a bad thing.

Dakora: Really, I should be thanking The Four that it was you that’s left fragments bouncing around in my head. You… and they ::His eyes momentarily dropped to Yogan’s abdomen.:: kind of seem like you all have got things figured out.

Yogan laughed at the unexpected observation.

Yalu: I won’t lie. The collected experiences of eight–– ::beat, gestures to Dakora:: nine lifetimes are nice to have; I’ve relied on each of their memories to solve some problem or find a way out of a bad situation. But all of them were flawed, and all of them made big mistakes. Yogan included.

Talos had tried to do his own research in the days following the whole Cytarix-Switcheroo, but there was shockingly little data on how long it took the consciousness of a Betazoid, swapped into a joined Trill’s body to bond with the Symbiont. Weird. Now that it was confirmed that he’d left some or all of his memories behind, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

He had lived an interesting life thus far, maybe even unique enough to provide the Yalu Symbiont with a new experience or two. But, then again the idea of someone reviewing a first person account of his more debaucherous moments or worse; his most personal failures, made a bead of sweat threaten to form on his forehead.

Dakora: ::His brow furrowed a little.:: I don’t know how much of me is left behind, but I know I’m sort of a mess. Sorry about that.

Yogan raised a hand, as if to swat the apology away.

Yalu: No, I feel like I should be apologizing to you. ::beat:: You didn’t ask to be Joined, and you got none of the preparation that Initiates get before the deed is done. I know you didn’t intend to, but you’ve given me a hell of a gift.

His eyebrows rose, seemingly of their own volition. Talos had been wrestling with his emotionally nomadic tendencies and the deeper reasoning behind his preference for shallow self-gratification ever since he’d come back to himself. His head felt kind of like a someone had accidentally turned on the house lights in a dance club and now he could see how filthy and poorly maintained it all had been. To hear all of that referred to as a gift gave him pause.

Dakora: A gift!? ::He softened his shocked tone.:: I polluted your collection of the wonderful minds of people who had accomplished great things with… whatever I am.

He tried not to look as downcast as he felt about the whole thing, but probably failed.

Yalu: Talos, you love life. I can feel that in every memory I have of you, even the difficult ones. I walked around the station and saw ships departing, people meeting, people flirting… ::chuckles:: Talos Yalu finds excitement and adventure and potential in everything. It’s a hell of a way to live your life. So, thanks for that.

A part of Talos understood that. Though, that was the part that was being crushed under the weight of the maturity the Yalu symbiont had thrust upon him. Yogan’s words did have some small effect. The Trill’s optimistic review of his core being gave him one of the first glimmers of hope that a happy-medium might exist.

Dakora: ::A half-felt grin.:: Yeah, I’ve always been fond of snatching excitement from the jaws of monotony.

Yogan couldn’t help thinking about his conversation with Karrod Niac. There was some overlap between Talos’ philosophy and Niac’s, and when two people tell you the same thing, it’s probably best to listen. As Yogan’s stomach growled with hunger, he thought about Yalu, tucked away in his gut, and what kinds of experiences would really elevate the symbiont to the next level. Surely the long-lived vermiform was overdue for some seizing of the day.

Yalu: And what about you? ::beat:: Hopefully getting to know Yogan this way wasn’t permanently scarring.

Talos’ brow furrowed

Dakora: Not at all. ::He paused.:: You’ve worked hard for everything you have, even when it didn’t come easy and somehow you still have a relentlessly positive attitude. The only scarring part is when I start comparing myself to you. What’s that bit about the thief of joy, or whatever?

Yogan nodded, and despite himself, let out a chuckle of camaraderie.

Yalu: So you’ve got the jist of being Joined, then. I can’t tell you how many sleepless nights I had at first. All of their lives just seemed–– ::beat:: so much more important than mine. It took me a few years to realize that it’s not true.

The shoddy holo-chip chose that moment to emit a half-hearted buzz as their floating order number changed to an less-than-pleasant greenish hue in celebration of their imminent feasting. Thoughts of greasy food served to drag Talos from the depths of the funk he was experiencing. At least for a little while.

Dakora: That’s us. ::He pushed away from the table.:: Good thing too, because I was getting desperate enough for that fried lettuce to sound alright. ::He stood.:: I’ll get it

Yalu: ::nods:: Aye aye. Thanks.

Talos crossed the bustling eatery and found the tray on the counter with the correct number and traded the holo-chip for it. He wasn’t sure if the amount of grolv was sufficiently extra, but he was too famished to care. Returning to the table, he set the tray down between them and took his seat, and in an effort not to seem too desperate to throw down, picked their conversation back up.

Dakora: Where were we? ::He screwed up his face in thought.:: Oh right. I think it’s just a time and distance thing. You know? Eventually I’m sure I’ll be able to embrace all of the great things I learned from being Talos Yalu, but maybe without judging Talos Dakora so harshly?

Yalu: This whole experience taught me a few things too. Not least among them, that it’s a beautiful galaxy out there, and it’s OK to appreciate it. I think I can work on that.

Talos nodded as he picked up the large burger and both hands and took an ambitiously large bite. Instantly, he was met with an explosion of meaty, fatty, cheesy flavor that set his taste buds and heart aflutter with each actuation of his jaw. It was all he could do to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head as he swallowed the delicious greasy bit.

Dakora: Holy strokes. ::He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.:: This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.

Yogan picked up his Double DaiMon Bacon Burger and held it tightly to keep it from coming apart before he could get it to his mouth. He raised it slightly, as if toasting with it.

Yalu: Welcome to the family.

CHOMP.

Lt. Commander Yogan Yalu
Strategic Operations Officer
USS Excalibur NCC-41903-A
Justin D238804DS0

and

======//////======>

Ensign Talos Dakora Intelligence Officer USS Excalibur-A O238811CD0

December 19, 2021

Maybe one day I'll write that fish's backstory.

Maybe.

December 18, 2021

56 minutes ago, Hallia Yellir said:

Is it bad the first thing that came into my head was an aggravatingly bright neon lime green?

This is now canon

December 15, 2021

As we enter the final year of the 24th century, we thought it might be fun to examine ways our characters might choose to ring in the New Year. We know from a conversation that Bashir has in Deep Space Nine that people (or at least humans) celebrate the New Year with parties and celebrations, but what might they entail..? And do they change with species and quadrants?

Perhaps they would like to hold a massive party in their ship or base's bar (or for the more adventurous, perhaps they even venture into the holodeck?) or there's always doing something a little more... unique? Jo Marshall has threatened to go skinny dipping in the Andorian ocean, but as a doctor all I can say is that it's a sure fire way to give yourself pneumonia.

On Star Trek Online, the annual event "Q's Winter Wonderland" has players being taught the Klingon New Year tradition of ice fishing? Perhaps our Klingon characters would care to teach the rest of us this brilliant skill. If not, I have a power drill and a fishing rod and I'm going to try it out myself!

What about something less... chilly? Perhaps your character likes to stay in by an open (holo)fire and roast chestnuts/marshmallows (or smores)? This is of course assuming that all planets celebrate their new year celebrations in a season of cold weather, which I'm sure isn't true (it isn't even true on Earth!) so who likes going surfing or bodyboarding on NYE? A BBQ anyone?

There's a few options below, but if we haven't covered your answer, then please let us know in the comments!

November 22, 2021

November 18, 2021

@Yalu @Ben Garcia - Huge props to Wes for the support he's given to Justin on this. I always love seeing how the sausage is made in Ops, and I love how Justin has managed to do this in a really fun and exciting way that is also amazing entertaining. A great way to start a ship launch! I do want to know what AQA stands for though...

(( OOC: Just want to express some major gratitude to Wes/LtCmdr. Ben Garcia from the USS Thor for the sim-spiration, idea fuel, and all the things I plagiarized. ))

(( Operations Center, Deck 2, USS Excalibur-A ))

Well this was nice. An entire bit of the ship devoted to such things as power transfer requests, holodeck reservations, sensor grid allocations, and quartering assignments. Yogan was going to enjoy his new home.

Already in a good mood after having met with Captain Piruzian, Yogan practically jumped at the chance to get aboard the USS Excalibur and tackle the challenge of making sure that everyone had a place to sleep tonight. Fortunately, the task would be made immensely simpler by a new computer program, just out of development from Starfleet Operations. Excalibur had been given the privilege of being the first Vesta-class ship to be outfitted with the new system, and Yogan was looking forward to seeing what it could do. The Interior Spaces Allocation And Coordination System, or ISAACS, for short, promised to revolutionize the way starships and other installations managed themselves. Hopefully, it would live up to the hype.

Picking up the nearest PADD, Yogan logged into ISAACS and accessed the final allocation of personnel quarters. Everything looked in order, but with a complement of nearly 850 people, this task would be a touch more complicated than on dear, sweet, petite little Resolution. As he scanned the list one last time, he noted the living quarters of the people he had worked most closely with; those who would be transferring aboard directly from their former ship:

Room	Occupant 1	Occupant 2	Notes
02-0101	Nicholotti, Kalianna A. Commodore Commanding Officer	Adea, Genkos Commander Chief Medical Officer	AQA on file
02-1601	MacKenzie, Addison K. Commander Executive Officer	(none)
04-0302	Yalu, Yogan Lt. Commander Helm Officer	(none)
04-0201	Sherlock, Aine O. Lieutenant Chief Security Officer	(none)
04-1301	Etan Iljor Lieutenant Chief Science Officer	(none)
04-1603	Sirin, Meidra Lieutenant Counselor	(none)
04-0503	Yellir, Hallia Lieutenant JG Science Officer	(none)
04-1404	Silveira, Vitor S. Lieutenant JG Tactical Officer	(none)
05-0207	Dakora, Talos Ensign Intelligence Officer	(berth 2 vacant)	Double occupancy

Yalu: Looks good, ISAACS.

Yogan set down the PADD and spun round in his chair to work at the computer terminal. He did another double, triple, quadruple check that all of the assignments were correct and that no one ended up misallocated to live in Deflector Control or Tractor Beam Emitters by mistake, then called up the message he'd drafted to all personnel:

//

SUBJ: Rooms and quarters aboard the USS Excalibur-A

Dear {rank} {surname},

Welcome aboard the USS Excalibur-A. This message is to inform you about:

Room numbering and signage audits
Quartering assignments

Item 1: Room numbering and signage audits

The USS Excalibur-A uses “deck–sector–compartment” as the standard format for the identification, allocation, and management of all interior spaces.

The LCARS database article on room numbering has been updated to explain the “deck–sector–compartment” format clearly. To ensure that room numbering is consistent shipwide, all departments shall audit their assigned spaces and log any erroneous signage with Operations via ISAACS (the Interior Spaces Allocation And Coordination System).

Departments must complete their initial signage audit within the next 72 hours. Please advise Operations if you foresee any issues with completing your audit prior to the deadline. Operations will correct reported signage errors within 24 hours of the log being placed in ISAACS.

It is expected that interior spaces will be reconfigured from time to time, to meet evolving departmental and personnel needs. Department chiefs are responsible for promptly reporting any reconfigurations that may necessitate the creation, deletion, or reordering of room numbers within a given deck and sector. Prior approval is typically not required, provided the reconfigurations comply with hardware, volume, and mass limits.

Item 2: Quartering assignments

You have been assigned living quarters according to your primary personnel classification. Quarters are assigned via ISAACS.

By default, all personnel are required to reside in the designated quarters for their classification, unless alternative quartering arrangements (AQAs) have been approved. AQAs can be requested at any time via ISAACS, and are approved by Operations after consultation with the Executive Officer.

{rank} {given_name} {surname}
{personnel_service_number}
{assigned_quarters}
{co_occupant_if_any}

Your default access code is {greek_letter}-{numeral}-{numeral}-{numeral}-{numeral}.

On first use, ISAACS will prompt you to change the access code to a combination of your choosing before the door’s locking mechanism will release. Therefore, please have a new combination in mind to ensure prompt access to your quarters. ISAACS will not release the doors until this action is completed.

Please ensure that any personal belongings you wish to have transported aboard from Columbia or Deep Space 224 are properly tagged with your name, Starfleet Serial Number, and quartering assignment. Anti-grav sleds will be available on each deck to assist you in moving.

Please take occupancy of your quarters within the next 24 hours. If you have questions or believe there to be an error in your quartering assignment, contact Operations immediately.

Once again, welcome aboard.

Sincerely,

Lt. Commander Yogan Yalu
HCO Officer
USS Excalibur NCC-41903-A

\\

With any luck, the number of transfer requests would be low. Yogan had already planned for the inevitable grumblings from Ensign So-and-So who didn’t want the quarters adjacent to the turbolift, and Lieutenant Such-and-Such who got space sick with aft-facing windows. Hopefully, there would be few of these frivolous requests, but with such a big crew, there was no way to know for sure.

Yogan finished off his mug of glurtch, then made a disgusted face. He’d waited too long to drink it and it had gone [...]ly. Had he really been in here for that long? There were a few other immediate things for him to do before he could kick back and settle into his own shiny new quarters. He placed the mug in the replicator and ordered a glass of water to wash down the spoilt glurtch, then sat back down at his desk. Already, a dozen officers had acknowledged receipt of his message.

Yalu: Do your thing, ISAACS. Don’t mess this up

November 18, 2021

Quote

Yalu: You will be pleased to know that the only hero at this table is this one.

Yogan pointed to the sandwich sitting in front of him

What a great way to start our new quotes thread

That's meant to be a Fonzie noise in the title, FYI

November 9, 2021

Welcome to the Fleet; pleased to have you here!

November 7, 2021

You know when one of these guys has written a post, you're going to have good time. When two of them do it, you get some real magic.

(( Holosuite 9, Xaevu’s Discount Holo-Arcade, Maklau Beach, Risa ))

Yogan sat on a holographic chair in the otherwise empty room, twiddling the data chip between his fingers. He was a few minutes early, but he was grateful for it. It was only after he’d arrived, checked in, and been escorted into the hired suite that he realized how improper it might look to be meeting Captain Nicholotti… alone… at a holo-arcade… on Risa. It had taken him 10 minutes of nervously pacing around the suite to get over that, so, yes, early was good.

The invitation had been unexpected, but not unappreciated. While she had no idea what to expect, Kali's curiosity had been piqued at the idea that the helmsman wanted to meet her at a Holo-Arcade, on Risa no less. She definitely raised a couple of eyebrows when she read it, but never hesitated on whether to show up or not.

And so, as she entered the room, she saw the tall Trill man stand and the chair he was sitting in vanish, leaving them both in a very empty, very plain room. She approached, her Marine t-shirt hanging loosely around her shorts as she looked around questioningly.

When she entered, Yogan stood, and the chair had been sitting in vanished into the holographic ether from whence it came. Neither of them was in uniform, which Yogan knew from prior experience was less weird than if he’d turned up in his and she hadn’t. It was just as well, since Yogan’s chosen activity would necessitate a change of attire anyway.

Yalu: Captain. Thank you for agreeing to meet me here.

Kali nodded.

Nicholotti: Of course. It's not every day the captain gets invited to participate on someone's adventure.

She offered him a reassuring smile having no idea what this was about, but knowing that if it was important enough to ask her to be there, it was important enough. Her full attention was here in this moment then.

Yalu: I’ve spent too much time by myself already. I’m getting back out into the world and doing things. ::holds up the data chip:: And I came across a program I thought you might like to run with me.

Now her curiosity was very much engaged. She watched him as he held up the chip.

Nicholotti: Oh?

Yogan stepped over to the control arch and inserted the chip.

Yalu: Computer, run program.

The room disappeared behind the simulation. At first, it looked nondescript: a flat expanse in all directions and hard macadam under their feet. The ‘discount’ in Xaevu’s Discount Holo-Arcade was evident in the loading time, as elements took several seconds to populate and then grow sharper and clearer in detail.

Mountains in the distance came into focus, and yellow and white lines crisscrossed the pavement on which they stood. The pièce de résistance was the last item to populate: a large, grey aircraft from Earth’s liquid fuels age. The temperature in the room rose and Yogan squinted in the holographic sunlight, then smiled at Nicholotti and gestured to the tin bird.

As everything came into focus, a nostalgic grin appeared on the captain's face. The things her crew dug up on her...she shook her head as the antique jet came into view and solidified in the gleaming sunlight.

Yalu: I don’t imagine this needs any introduction to you, Captain. ::beat:: If memory serves, it is something called a Boeing F/A 18-F Superhornet?

Nodding slowly Kali finally took her eyes from the plane and turned them to her fellow pilot.

Nicholotti: Indeed it is. Ever flown something like this?

Yalu: ::shakes head:: I’ve been piloting suborbital craft since I was a teenager, but nothing like this. I’m excited, though.

Kali stepped forward and approached the metallic bird that sat silent in the sunlight. The heat radiated off the tarmac and warmed her legs as she reached out and let her fingertips run along the leading edge of the closest wing. When she got to one end, she stopped and looked back across towards the [...]pit and the open canopy.

Nicholotti: You should be. There's nothing quite like this.

Her eyes moved towards the next part of the plane as she continued her walk around, seemingly and momentarily oblivious to anyone or anything else. It was like a love affair and she had eyes only for the piece of machinery before her. Minutes later, she ended up back at the beginning, next to her helmsman again.

Nicholotti: So you mean to fly this then?

She grinned.

Already starting to sweat in the heat, Yogan dabbed his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. Although perhaps some of it was attributable to nerves.

Yalu: ::chuckles:: How about I copilot? I looked over the specs, but I’ve not mastered the controls just yet.

Nicholotti: Alright. We'll need flight suits. ::She eyed him carefully.:: How's your stomach? This bird doesn't come with inertial dampeners.

The laugh that escaped her was all but free. There was always something about the idea of the sky and how she could escape to it that allowed her to just let go of the trappings of her waking, walking world.

Yogan recalled the training he took as a teenager at the Rytela Flight School in his hometown. The school had a few old, old, old craft that probably flew similarly to this one, and his instructors took him up in them a few times. He found those experiences exhilarating, but that had been twenty years ago. He’d not done anything like this since he was Joined. The symbiont and their memories had a funny way of recasting experiences that once were pleasant as uncomfortable and vice versa. But best not let on.

Yalu: ::pats tummy:: I’m sure I’ll be fine, as long as the safeties don’t cost extra.

That was fair. It was the holodeck, but that didn’t mean much to her. Once she was in the sky, that was the reality. As a fellow pilot, he would understand.

Nicholotti: Well, there’s no time like the present.

Yalu: Let’s do it.

The process, while vital to her in every way (but inconsequential being they were in a holodeck…), did not take long to complete and soon she was directing him up into the backseat of the jet. He was a bit tall for it, and she laughed at the way he had to bend to fit into the thing, but she’d seen others do the same.

To be fair, she had laughed similarly at them as well.

Climbing up herself and calling for the ladder to be removed, she allowed her memory to guide her in the preflight. The silence that had surrounded them soon was filled with the ever growing roar of engines that started quietly, but grew steadily behind them. Lights appeared on the consoles, some blinking, others off, and still others illuminating the [...]pit. Kali continued through the motions, moving her feet and looking in the mirrors to see the appropriate movements, and the same for the airfoils on the wings.

Satisfied, she called back through the radio in the helmets.

Nicholotti: You ready for this?

The captain’s voice came through tinnily inside his helmet. It would be an exaggeration to say that his knees were in his ears, but not by much. Given his height and size, had he lived on Earth 400 years ago, he would likely have been disappointed if he’d attempted to pursue a career in one of the Terran air forces. If he’d known, he might have thought to nudge the program’s settings to allow a more comfortable seat. But this wasn’t a pleasure cruise, it was a business meeting.

Yalu: Affirmative. Ready when you are.

He couldn’t see it, but there was a smirk on her face as she took her time and guided the jet towards the perfect center on the runway. Once there, she paused only a moment before she slammed the throttle all the way up and kicked the afterburners on full, launching the hunk of metal into the sky. As soon as it was off the ground, she pulled the nose nearly all the way up and rocketed straight upwards.

It was only after she’d gotten the turning and burning out of her system, and thoroughly put the jet through some of her favorite moves, that she finally allowed it to settle into somewhat of level flight.

Yogan felt the g-force in his guts as the jet accelerated almost perpendicularly to the planet’s surface. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have sworn some parts of him were left behind, a Trill trail of bits and pieces dispersed across the holographic landscape. The captain clearly knew how to get results out of the antique craft, and a kaleidoscope of sky, sea, and surface swirled in front and above them.

Nicholotti: How ya doing back there?

Yalu: Never better! ::beat:: This really is a beautiful aircraft. Maybe we could land so we can appreciate its exterior?

Kali laughed. He had been the one to invite her…

Yalu: Just kidding. Kind of. The triple salchow was a bit unexpected, if I’m honest.

Nicholotti: Fair. But I know that’s not why we’re here. I’ll hand over the controls if you tell me why you really wanted to do this.

There was somewhat of a pause, and then the words filtered out over the helmet headset.

Yalu: I know that Resolution was the first ship you served on. I’m sorry that she was lost on our watch.

Kali raised an eyebrow, though he couldn’t see it.

Nicholotti: You can’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault. You all did the best you could with what you had. ::She paused a second and banked the plane, heading into a different direction.:: How are you handling things?

Being the subject of multiple interviews and inquiries and so on was never easy. She’d been through plenty and knew first hand. Still, it impacted each of them a little bit differently.

Yogan hadn’t considered the fact that they’d be seated single file, and that he’d be having this important conversation about his professional future with the back of the captain’s head. With the lack of eye contact and the headset crackling and hissing throughout, Yogan felt a bit like he was having a conversation with a radio ghost from the past. They couldn’t very well go paint horga’hns, now could they? Addison had already claimed that privilege. Ah, well, they were here now, and Yogan had the captain’s ear until their hour in the holosuite was up. No time like the present, as they say in Temporal Mechanics.

Yalu: I withdrew at first. I felt overwhelmed by everything that happened. But then I spoke to some people who helped me out.

Good. That was very good. Kali had not. It had taken a Betazoid back then to get in her head and tell her she was alright. She wondered if that was all that much different now, since another Betazoid in an entirely different capacity was now getting into her head...with her as a willing participant.

Nicholotti: That’s good. It’s good to have close friends among our family.

Indeed, the ship was a family and the Resolution had been closer than most. But even without a ship, that didn’t change.

Yalu: Cayden, Addison, and Genkos especially. They all helped me realize something about myself. Captain, I think I see a future for myself in command, and I want to pursue it.

Kali grinned to herself. It was always nice when one of her more promising officers finally saw the promise in themselves.

Nicholotti: If that is your goal, then that is what we work towards. First step...the aircraft is yours.

And with that, she lifted her hands up and put them behind her head as if she were taking a relaxing nap by the side of some pool somewhere, wondering what his first reaction would be.

For Yogan, the holosuite simulation suddenly got real real. In front of him was a dizzying series of displays and what 20th century Terrans nicknamed a “joystick.” He could feel the change in pitch; after even a moment with the captain’s hands off the controls, the aircraft’s course started to degrade. Yogan took a deep breath and took the joystick in his hand, pulling back slightly, too slightly at first, to even the bird out. As the craft’s nose pointed back toward the horizon, a memory from Yogan’s teenage years surfaced.

(( Flashback – Rytela Flight School, Trill – 2377 ))

Flight Instructor: You have control.

Yogan Verso: I have control.

Yogan dared not take his hands off the panel, even to mop the beads of sweat that were starting to run down his temples. He’d practiced in the simulator, but this was for real. He was actually piloting a spacecraft… in space!

Flight Instructor: Change course, bearing 215 mark 090. Speed, 500 kph. Then take us out past the first signal buoy.

Yogan Verso: Acknowledged.

Yogan’s fingers pinched and pulled along the X-Y translation pad to enter the new course. The craft was small and light–with only manoeuvring thrusters and sluggish inertial dampers. It lurched toward the new heading and Yogan felt the movement in the pit of his stomach and the back of his neck at the same time. He braced himself, but resisted the urge to close his eyes. He was fine, everything was fine. He felt his flight instructor’s hand land on his shoulder from behind in a reassuring clap.

Flight Instructor: You’re doing good, Son.

(( End flashback ))

With talk of command and a future spent climbing the ranks of Starfleet at the center of his thoughts, Yogan might have expected a memory belonging to Auzell, his sixth host whose own command ambitions were cut tragically short by the Dominion War. But instead, he was pleasantly surprised that his own memories played in the background of this important moment in his life. With as much space as that particular host had occupied in his mind lately, Yogan had been concerned that these desires and drives didn’t really belong to him. Now, he was certain that they did.

Yalu: I think we’re good. Nothing like the craft we pilot now, where you can leave the [...]pit and grab a raktajino. This one really needs a steady hand at all times.

Nicholotti: And a good plan to follow.

It was interesting where he was taking it - both the plane and the conversation. Kali remembered the many life lessons she had learned among the clouds as a kid with her grandfather in the front seat, at least until she was tall enough to touch the rudder pedals. Then she was promoted into the front seat, but the life lessons continued. Now it was almost as if that tradition continued.

Yalu: A good metaphor for life. But then again...

Familiar enough to know what most of the controls did, Yogan eased on the joystick, sending the jet banking hard to the right. The sky and the land ahead spun out of view, and they were treated to a spectacular sight: the holographic mountain chain splayed out into the distance, green foothills blending into a brown, rocky cordillera adorned by snow-capped peaks of gleaming white. It was so beautiful that Yogan didn’t want to stop staring, until an altitude alarm pinged in his ear and one of the panels in front of him changed colors. He tapped his foot, which was starting to fall asleep from spending too much time at the end of a contorted lower extremity, as he righted the jet.

Yalu: Not too steady that we miss what’s right in front of us.

Kali smirked to herself as the scenery outside rushed by and her body was moved by the way the plane tilted to the side. It felt natural, like he just innately knew. And maybe he did. Some pilots were just born that way. Not even the proximity alerts fazed him.

Nicholotti: Indeed.

Yalu: If that was the first step, can I ask what the second step is?

The echoes of her past rang in her ears. So many questions had been asked among the sky as she punched hole after frustrated hole through the multitude of painted clouds up there. And yet, no matter where she had come from, or where she was going, somehow her grandfather had always made it so that she ended up answering her own questions. She couldn't help what came next.

Nicholotti: Whatever step that larger-than-average foot of yours decides to take.

At this, she glanced over her shoulder and offered him as much of a 'what do you think?' look as she could, though she wasn't sure if he caught it or not given the way the seats were set up. Still, the sentiment was there and she could hear his understanding in his voice as he next spoke.

Yogan smirked, certain that his involuntary chuckle was loud enough to carry over the headsets. Of course he couldn’t get away with it that easily. He would be responsible for determining how this would play out, for charting his own course. Speaking of which...

Yalu: Well, suppose I might be interested in making a change. ::beat: I mean, so much is up in the air right now. I don’t even know whether I’ll still be serving under you in the future.

Kali had an idea, but she didn't let on...much. In this case she simply steered things back to the idea that he wanted a change.

Nicholotti: A change?

Yalu: But assuming I were, what if I were interested in a role that might challenge me a bit more than helm? Something that could help me gain the experience I need to get where I want to go?

Oh, but the helm got them all where they needed to go. She grinned, finding it quite satisfying that she could keep it to herself. Challenge was something there would be no shortage of in their new home, and an idea was already forming in her mind as he began his proposal.

Nicholotti: I think something along those lines can be arranged, assuming you were interested in such a role.

Yogan swept the jet around the far side of the mountain chain, where the strip of green foothills was narrow and gave way to a thin stretch of beach, and then ocean as far as the eye could see. He bit his lip as the g-forces acted upon him.

Yalu: I would be interested when the time is right.

The plane moved again and Kali found herself enthralled by the mountains as they passed to the side. She smiled.

Nicholotti: The thing about these steps is that you never know when the time is or will be right. You just...jump. You jump and you know that you aren't alone. That long list of people that got you here, today, they are still there.

She paused a moment as she looked at one particularly interesting cloud formation that went by. It kind of reminded her of a starship in and of itself despite it being quite clearly clouds.

Nicholotti: And no captain in their right mind would set an officer up to fail.

There was the whole bit about an officer being a reflection of their command staff, but in all honesty, Kali simply cared about her officers. She wanted them to succeed, to reach their goals and attain the things that they set as their life achievements. For some, that was command. For others, it wasn't. Whatever the goals were, it was part of her job to help facilitate them.

So enjoyable was the experience, Yogan almost forgot that they were in a holosuite, until an anachronism appeared in the sky before them. It looked like a Risian version of a sand timer, with most of the sand having fallen from the upper to the lower well. Alien aesthetics notwithstanding, the message was clear: the time that Yogan had booked was fast expiring.

Yalu: I suggest we get one last look at this mountain chain, then head back to the base? We should have enough time for a proper landing.

Nicholotti: Of course. This was a good idea. I've not had this much fun in far too long.

Kali sat up a bit and prepared to take back the airplane. Their time was nearly over, which would end far better if they landed and were on the ground when everything came to a screeching halt. Still, it had allowed her a moment to get back in touch with a side of her she'd not connected with in some time, though between the model from Colt and this experience, she was thinking the universe was telling her that she might start.

Nicholotti: I have the aircraft. ::Beat.:: We make it happen if you're ready. Just don't wait too long. Opportunities don't last forever. Or very long for that matter.

With the captain in control of the flight, Yogan allowed himself the luxury of appreciating the otherworldly vista as the jet turned back one last time. In eight lifetimes, he had learned that truer words could not be spoken about the transient nature of opportunity. Out of 368 years full of memories, the only true regrets Yalu ever had were those of chances never taken, of drives never pursued, of avenues never explored. Fighting the twin saboteurs of fear and self-doubt was far easier said than done, but it was necessary when pursuing something worth having.

Yalu: I think I’m ready.

--

Fleet Captain Kalianna Nicholotti

Commanding Officer

USS Resolution

R238605KN0

and

Lt. Commander Yogan Yalu

Helm Officer

USS Resolution NCC-78145

Justin D238804DS0

October 15, 2021

It's been absolutely amazing to have @Jo Marshall on board for this mission, and she has knocked it out of the park with such a fabulously memorable character who pulled the rugs from under our feet. This is a superb ending for a superb character, and I'm very sad to see him (and Em) go.

((Transporter Room, Deck 3, USS Resolution))

There’s a quiet at the end of a life that no one really expects. It’s hardly ever spoken about; just the snuff of a candle, the light winking out in the darkness, or the star once in the blackwater space ceases to twinkle.

A beeping warning began from the device, running the length of it like a signal light wrapping around the outside. The countdown had started. There was no way to stop it once it began. He knew this; he knew this intrinsically. It was what he hadn’t counted on, what he hadn’t prepared for, and in the end, what he feared happening the most.

Liam swallowed as he slumped against the device and tapped a series of commands into the control panel. His eyes didn’t look up from the Genesis unit as he spoke.

Rackham: I'll buy you as much time as I can. You need to go now. Evacuate the ship. ::He looked at Genkos with a nod, if a breathless one.:: Save your crew, Captain. Time to be a hero.

Adea didn’t hesitate to issue the order, the gossamer sheen of tears in his eyes. It could’ve been the light in the transporter rooms, or the life ebbing out of Liam’s eye.

Adea: You heard the man.

Silveira: Yes Captain, let’s go, Commander.

The beautiful redhead spared a regretful look his way, and it smacked Liam in the chest like a breaking wave over the barriers. If only he wasn’t about to get his ticket stamped and be scattered into the ether. Maybe in another life. Maybe there wasn’t another life. Either way, he was about to find out what was at the end of the adventure.

Captain Genkos Adea, in all his heroic finery, turned back to Liam, to Wyke, and gave him a nod and a smile.

Adea: Thank you for your service, Commander.

Wyke: Best of luck, sir.

As the crew vacated the small transporter room, Liam steadied the breath in his chest, his hands tremored as they reached for the controls of the Genesis Device. All the work he had poured into the years of planning and consideration, of ensuring plans were adhered to. How many had sacrificed themselves for this device? How many more would die that day in the ensuing eruption?

His fingers danced along the panel, starting diagnostic routines and variable checks, rerouting the complex system of algorithms ensuring the timely detonation, and delaying the various scans it tried to perform on the location destined for change. Sweat trickled down the side of his face as his blood ran cold, as his limbs ached in a fresh painful way; the tips of his fingers like ice. Extremities losing their touch, slipping on the instruments, the edges of his vision darkening.

The stimulant wearing off in waves.

Adea: =/\= This is Captain Adea to all personnel. Drop what you’re doing and head to the nearest escape pod. This is not a drill. We are evacuating the ship. =/\=

A breath exhaled from his lungs in a long stream, and Liam thought back to being a child again, running through the meadows of his homeworld, grinning with handfuls of figs, swimming in the rivers, the beautiful crystalline sunsets spilling over the water, and the dark skies creeping above, filled with stars and hopes and dreams. Thunderbolts and lightning christening the heavens. Rains leaving their petrichor-scent for days, lingering in the long grasses.

Sleepy words breathed into the curve of his ear in a tangle of exhausted limbs and ruffled sheets by his first love.

Stories of his Starfleet father, dying a hero onboard the USS Kyushu at Wolf 359, told by his father as he tried to fall asleep with gentle kisses to his hairline as he read through the stories his dad used to.

Leaving it all behind for a career among the stars, following in those valiant footsteps left long ago.

He slumped against the device, the last vestiges of the world fading in slower breaths, the countdown rapidly decreasing. The Resolution would be evacuated soon. Escape pods detaching from the primary hull and jettisoning into the distance carried on the thrust of the engines.

As he slid down to the floor, he noticed the small, blinking lights beneath the casing, and a frown pulled at the middle of his eyebrows.

A remote detonation module.

Suddenly, it all made a little more sense.

Liam let his head rest against the device as he exhaled a breath, a small sliver of a smile encapsulating his lips as his eyes closed, listening to the beep of the countdown as the timer ran out.

Light poured out like a torrent, like a hundred ampullae drenching from a dying star, bearing the rich and nectarous smell... a little like jasmine.

There’s a quiet at the end of a life that no one really expects, even as it roars.

[ End Scene for Wyke/Rackham ]

--
Commander Liam Wyke, aka. Ben Rackham
Chief Scientist, Rinascita Station

As simmed by

Lt. Commander Jo Marshall
First Officer
USS Gorkon, NCC-82293
G239304JM0

October 12, 2021

See this is why we love @Yalu; a throwaway line from me, and he gets some truly beautiful mileage out of it. Thank you for being such an amazing collaborative writer.

(( Sickbay, Deck 2, USS Resolution ))

Dwich’s training prepared him well for most things. Despite having worked in such diverse settings as large city hospitals, starbase infirmaries, and on the frontiers of Federation space, his EMT duties remained remarkably consistent no matter where in the galaxy he executed them: assess a patient’s condition, keep them breathing, stop them from bleeding, and generally keep them from coming apart until a real doctor can get a look at them. Then, fill out the PADDwork and it’s back out onto the floor to await the next emergency.

When Resolution went to red alert and he felt the first rumbles and shakes of an incipient space battle, Dwich kept his head down and remembered his training. Anytime the ship came under attack, casualties were to be expected. Resolution’s sickbay, though small, was well equipped to handle them, even severe ones, provided they came through the doors one or two at a time. As the attack grew in intensity, and he had to brace himself against the biobed to avoid being thrown over it, the young Bajoran worried that they’d quickly become overwhelmed.

And they were.

Within minutes, the biobeds were occupied, and the room was filling quickly with everything from broken wrists to plasma burns, and worse. With Dr. Adea in command, Dr. Morgan on the station, and every one of Resolution’s 249 other qualified medical practitioners–Nicholotti, MacKenzie, and Yalu, among them–off the ship, there was little Dwich could do but press into service anyone who walked through the doors capable of holding a tricorder and waving the doohickey back and forth at the same time.

Adea: =/\= This is Captain Adea to all personnel. Drop what you’re doing and head to the nearest escape pod. This is not a drill. We are evacuating the ship. =/\=

Speaking of doohickey. The doctor who coined the term, referring to the portable scanning device nestled inside of a medical tricorder, had just shifted the priority from “triage and stabilize” to “get everyone the kosst out.” With Sickbay occupying a privileged position along the ship’s outer hull, the escape pods were relatively easy to access, and the procedure was clear. Dwich quickly conducted a headcount of everyone who would need assistance moving. Fortunately, there weren’t that many. Yet.

Adea: =/\= Adea to Hamsan; can you stop off at my quarters as you evacuate sickbay and pick up Toto? Thanks. =/\=

Hamsan: =/\= Will do, Sir. =/\= oO If there’s time. Oo

Dwich pushed up his sleeves and waved his arms to get everyone’s attention.

Hamsan: =/\= All right, everyone. You heard the captain. Everyone who can lift, bend, stoop, and carry: Congratulations, you’re our new field medics. ::points across Sickbay:: Anti-grav stretchers are over there, work in groups of two. If you can walk, proceed out into the corridor in an orderly fashion and head directly for the evacuation point. ::beat:: If you can’t, sit tight. We’ll get you.

Thankfully, the assembled officers and crew didn’t need to be told twice. The ones who could lift lifted, the ones who could carry carried, and everyone else remained reasonably calm. As Dwich started to feel the stress of the situation rising in his chest, he closed his eyes and prayed to The Prophets for peace and clear headedness. His recent experience at the hands of the time-bending Q had done more than fuse together two versions of himself from alternate dimensions. EMT Hamsan and Vedek Hamsan actually complimented each other quite well, the former inspiring the latter to action, and the latter inspiring the former to contemplation. When The Prophets had “fixed” him, he was afraid of becoming so muddled that he lost himself. The opposite had come true.

(( Timeskip – A few minutes later ))

Dwich was tired and his muscles were sore from making multiple trips between sickbay and the evacuation point, but there was no time to waste. The alarms continued to sound, so the danger–whatever it was–was still present. With the last person safely out of sickbay, and some escape pods still yet to be launched, Dwich ran the short distance to Dr. Adea’s quarters to make a special errand.

Hamsan: Computer, open this door. Medical override Hamsan-kappa-eight-one-seven.

Not exactly an authorized use of his medical override clearance, but he had been given specific orders from his boss and captain to collect the dog. Dwich stepped through the doors and scanned the room quickly, but didn’t see Toto.

Hamsan: Toto! Toto! Here boy!

No such luck. Poor little guy was probably scared out of his paws. Without considering the propriety of his actions, Dwich ran from the living area into Dr. Adea’s bedroom, dropped to the carpet and looked under the bed, then behind the furniture, and in the closets. Finally, he found him, huddled under a collection of blankets, pillows, and dressing gowns.

Hamsan: Come here, boy. We’re going on a little trip.

It took some coaxing, but not much. Clearly the dog possessed enough intelligence to know that Dwich was there to rescue him. He was bigger, and heavier, than Dwich realized, but the EMT’s arms, legs, and back were warmed up from having helped so many people out of sickbay.

Once back in the corridor, Dwich looked forlornly at the turbolift. There wasn’t time to go down to deck four and retrieve anything from the quarters he shared with Meidra. Maybe everything would be fine? Maybe they would fix whatever was wrong with the ship and everyone could come back home? Maybe. Maybe not.

Hamsan: oO There will be another lilac. Oo

Turning away from the turbolift, Hamsan ran with the dog in his arms to the evacuation point. Stepped through the small opening, and waited for the remaining seats to fill. It didn’t take long, and before anyone could process what was happening, the pod launched with a g-force that momentarily disoriented both Dwich and Toto. Only after they were far enough away did he see through the small viewport how bad things truly were.

TBC

PNPC Crewman 2nd Class Hamsan Dwich
Emergency Medical Technician
USS Resolution NCC-78145
Justin D238804DS0

October 4, 2021

Come home, Genkos Adea
Intergalactic Starfleet traveller
Come home, Genkos Adea

An except of Come Home Billy Bird from Absent Friends, the Divine Comedy

September 12, 2021

48 minutes ago, Kali Nicholotti said:

Is that an official term...?

Doohickey is in the handbook. Don't check that though, take my word

September 12, 2021

Came here to post this, so damn you

August 26, 2021

Welcome to the Fleet @Sival, I hope you enjoy it as much as we do!

August 17, 2021

We all know @Etan Iljor is a genius, but here he demonstrates his excellent and natural ability to flesh out a character even without others. It was almost a shame to reset the timeline (almost!)

(( IKS qor’Du ))

LehleQ, Son of Hugorgh watched as everything he had worked for; everything that he had built for himself vanished into ether. A lifetime of overcoming prejudice and adversity; of being told that his birthright meant that he was inferior to the HemQuch; of proving them wrong… vanished in an instant. In the span of time that it took R’Mira to slice open his throat with her dagger.

Whatever trickery of Fek’lhr had trapped the qorDu in a temporal loop had resurrected him from that ignominious fate- but there had been a shift. He knew from looking at the cold glances of his formerly loyal crew that he was no longer the master of the vessel. The seething fury of those present gripped the back of his neck, making his hairs stand on end. His honour, no more. If they managed to escape the loop he knew that R’Mira would send him to greth’or. Permanently.

LehleQ had been banished from the bridge, dragged off by two warriors that he had never bothered to learn the names of. It was humiliating. A lesser Klingon would have collapsed under the shame or might have chosen that moment to perform the jaJ-to’Vor ritual- but a Klingon with nothing left to lose…. LehleQ knew that was the most dangerous Klingon of all.

He had waited until the guards had dragged down the length of the primary corridor that separated the bulbous head of the vessel to the more avian drive section. Then with practised ease, he kicked out with a powerful thrust, striking the guard to his left just underneath his knee. He felt the man’s grip weaken enough so that he could free his arm and without hesitation, he swung it around until it connected with the other guard’s neck. The force of the impact was hard enough to make a thick, wet cracking sound and he was dead by the time his body crumpled to the floor. Deftly reaching down, he plucked the dead man’s disruptor from his belt, spun about and fired at the first man, blowing a hole in his chest; killing him instantly.

LehleQ knew the qorDu well, having been her rightful master for several years.It was not far to the transporter room and he made it there with no further resistance. The command deck crew, no doubt occupied with their dishonourable alliance with the Federation, had not heeded the firing of the disruptor. They didn’t notice as he fired again, killing the transporter operator with one well placed shot to the head. Kicking the body away from the console, he ran a covert scan of the Federation starship looking for an auxiliary vehicle. It was a calculated risk- the small vessel was several magnitudes more advanced and had demonstrated time and again that it could best the qorDu. He was counting on the fact that they were in as much disarray as the qorDu was and distracted by further plans to escape from this accursed loop. There were two small shuttlecrafts entombed with what appeared to be a shuttlebay- and one other that was slung underneath the primary section of the ship. He chose that and locked in the coordinates,hoping that his luck would not run out.

He left the qorDu in a haze of red energy, rematerialising in the darkened [...]pit of the Federation craft. All he had to do now was bide his time and wait…

--

LehleQ, Son og Hugorgh

Fugitive

As simmed by:

Lieutenant JG Etan Iljor

Science Officer

USS Resolution

C239203TW0

August 2, 2021

Quote

And then, with the universe full of nothing spinning around her, pain shooting up her arm and her lungs burning like the fire had jumped into them, Kali suddenly found herself...gone.

This time, it felt like it.

((Five minutes previously...))

Which is precisely when she slammed into the floor with both an audible thud and a most un-captain-like wince of pain. For a good thirty seconds she lay there, almost tempting reality before daring to bring her head up and look around. That was when the first of the alarms started going off. Before ever trying to get up, she called out with some weakness in her voice.

Nicholotti: Red alert...!

@Kali Nicholotti I absolutely adore what the time loop is doing to our characters, and I love this little slice of Kali's mind

July 28, 2021

1 hour ago, Jo Marshall said:

Take your achievement!

This is arguably my greatest achievement in my life so far.

July 27, 2021

Finally, a place for my genius

July 27, 2021

Welcome to the fleet proper! Twas a pleasure to have you in the Academy; see you around (one sooner than the other 😉 )

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Posts posted by Genkos Adea

Item 1: Room numbering and signage audits

Item 2: Quartering assignments

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