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Serala

Captains Council observer
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Everything posted by Serala

  1. Newly promoted LtJG @Charles Matthews is calling Serala out for being irresponsible while being pregnant. I am totally loving his internal monologues and thought I would share with everyone! Enjoy! ((Holodeck 2, Skyfire Beach, USS Astraeus)) [[Time Index: After the Awards, before conversation between Matthews and Zarax]] ((OOC – As previously stated, discussed with Serala. None of these are my views, nothing is personal. All context is purely IC)) Matthews: Ma’am, I respect you. A great deal. You’re a great officer; a fierce, honourable fighter, a snazzy dresser; but why would you put yourself in harm’s way when you’re pregnant? ::pause:: I know you’re a better fighter than me, but it would have only taken one mistimed blow, or one misstep, for something horrible to happen. My job is to help maintain the safety of everyone on board, that includes you. Your baby too. Serala: ::gritting her teeth as she tried to respond calmly:: Okay, let me say this the only way I know how. And I apologize in advance if I hurt your feelings. Yes, I am pregnant. And I realize you don’t know me that well, Lieutenant, but I have been in much more dangerous situations while pregnant that sparring on the holodeck with a masterfully trained samurai swordsman. When I was pregnant with T’Saara, near the end of my term, I found myself running for my life in a frozen forest with a few of my fellow crewmates. I survived, and I survived in the holodeck. oO OK, here we go. You just had to have this conversation, didn’t you? Right now, of all times and with her, of all people. You couldn’t just leave well enough alone?... No, I couldn’t. If I didn’t do this today, I wouldn’t have done it at all… Well, you’re in it now. Say what you need to but don’t antagonise her, and don’t let her feelings push yours to somewhere you don’t want them to go. Oo Sensing the Commander had more to say, and not wanting to interject too much, Charlie let out a brief reply. Matthews: There isn’t a need to apologise to me, Commander. I’ll be fine. ::smiles with uncertainty:: oO Liar! Oo Serala: The mother in me is extremely grateful that you are so concerned about the well-being of my unborn child. And you are not the first security officer to express such concern. My best friend, and former Department Head before I leap-frogged him to become the First Officer, also had the same concerns for my health. It would be disingenuous of me to condemn you for your concern while praising him for his. But, and let me be clear on this, I did not, and would not, knowingly place myself and my child in harm’s way. I saw enough of your skill before we sparred, and am confident enough in my own skill, to know that nothing was going to happen. And even if by chance it had, medical is only a transporter ride away. And our doctors are some of the very best in Starfleet. oO Oof. That stings. She saw enough of my abilities to know nothing was going to happen?? Wow. Pride has taken a hammer blow with that one. That’s nice… Relax. Think of some soothing music… I don’t think that will help… Well, put on your best poker face and fake it until you make it… Oo Matthews: I understand that, Commander. However, I feel like I’d be being remiss with my duties if I didn’t express my concerns about this. Serala: I appreciate your concern, Lieutenant. I really do. But I am asking for your trust that as a former Security Department Head, former Tactical Department Head, former Strategic Operations officer, trained martial artist, and First Officer - not to mention a mother - I know my limitations and will not knowingly place myself in danger unless the safety of this ship and its crew, or the interests of the Federation, require me to do so. Can you accept that, Lieutenant? oO Is she bragging? To be fair, if I had a record like hers, I’d be listing it off too if some newly promoted Lieutenant was questioning how I was doing things. But I’m not questioning her record, or her list of commendations, or her abilities; I just want people to be safe. She wouldn’t knowingly put herself in danger, I know that, but what about the unknown?... Well, we can’t know about the unknown, can we?... Isn’t that another reason to have a crew? Not just for their expertise, but to offer a differing opinion, or to be another pair of eyes in a certain situation… Oo Lieutenant Matthews took a few seconds to consider how he would reply to the First Officer. He could tell that she was trying to fight against her irritation, but he was also wondering how long she could maintain it for. Could she fight her natural instincts for that long? The fact of the matter is that he did trust her. He trusted everyone. Maybe not personally, not yet, but the trust was there professionally, and there was no reason for it not to be, not until somebody gave him a reason for him to not trust them. Matthews: Ma’am, I can accept it, and I do trust you. Without question. I haven’t raised these concerns to annoy you in any way. If I have done that, I am sorry, it wasn’t my intention. Especially not on what should be a happy occasion. oO Could it be that we’re a little alike, at least a bit? We’re both a little proud, maybe both find it too easy to get angry or defensive. Maybe we both feel as if we have things to prove too… Yeah, that sounds like top tier psychobabble there… What does she have to prove? She’s a massively decorated First Officer… Oo Serala: Response Matthews: I know you would never knowingly put yourself, the crew, or the ship in unnecessary danger; not unless it was for the good of the Federation, but it is the unknown that I am referring to as well, Commander. Yes, you’re a better fighter than me, better than most on the ship in fact, but is it totally out of the realm of possibility that something else could have happened when we sparred? Statistically, there was a possibility, no matter how slim that possibility could have been. We can never anticipate the unknown, ma’am. That is a part of the point I was trying to make. Serala: Response Matthews: To paraphrase what you said earlier, Commander, can you accept that I will always be keeping an eye out for the unexpected? Not just with yourself, or your baby, but with everyone. ::slightly smiling:: Much in the same way that you wanted to look out for the Captain when he wanted to board that damaged freighter. It’s not a testament to what I think of your abilities, or what you may think I may think of your abilities, it would be what I am here to do. Serala: Response --- Lieutenant JG Charles Matthews Tactical & Security Officer USS Astraeus NCC-70652 A240012CM1
  2. Been a while since anyone has posted here, but I came across this one-liner from our Ensign @Charles Matthews that had me rollin' and thought I would share. For reference, for those who may not know, our CO is a Caitian. mew, mew instead of pew, pew!!!
  3. I really enjoyed this comparison between life on the Santa Maria with Christopher Columbus and life on a starship. Well written!! ((Holodeck, USS Astraeus)) Shore leave is coming to an end, which means that life is returning to the rhythm Slav is used to. After organising the cooking competition, he was completely exhausted mentally and spiritually. He needed to rest. On the bright side, he got to know many of the crew members and made himself known in such a good way. Along with the return of his regular watch schedule, the need for rest has also increased. This is exactly what he was doing now. The holodeck again. Today, he doesn't have much free time, so he chose the shortest and most interesting programme available to him (after all, service comes first). Shewytch: Computer. Run the programme HistoryShewytch020 It immediately became dark and cloudy. The ground began to sway to one side and then to the other. Well, how to say the ground, the wooden floor. And if you look around, you can see that Slav was on a ship, an old Earth ship. oO I don't really like the app because of this wobble. Oo That's why he didn't run this programme often, or to be more precise, he ran it only once, before he was sent to the ship. Maybe he was superstitious then? After all, he was also going to new worlds, new territories, just like Columbus' Santa Maria. Yes, this programme was a programme about the "great" geographical discoveries, well, they cannot be compared to the discoveries made after breaking the speed of light, but it nevertheless had a great impact on history. Slav walked around the deck and turned to the man who seemed to be the most important of all the people around him. He had spoken to him only once before he had come here to Astraeus. He needed to hear some words of encouragement, or just what he wanted to hear. Because it was not a real person, but just a set of algorithms. Shewytch: Captain, I'm leaving soon on a research vessel. :: pause :: As part of your squadron. And I'd like to ask you a question, if you don't mind. How can you go to a place where you're not even sure if the land exists or not? NPC hologram of Columbus: ::Turning away from the map table:: Well, young man. The only thing you need to understand is that the land is ::he jumped up:: where the ship is. oO That time, he said the same thing. Oo At this point, it finished playing the programme for the last time. But today he was in the mood to continue. Shewytch: But this ship ::he nodded towards the water:: floats. That is, there is still something under the ship, and it is a hulk of water. What if there is nothing, not even water, beyond the horizon? The sailor was thinking. Columbus: Hmm, an interesting thought. Will the ship be able to sail in this "nothing"? Because if you pick up water in your hands, it is also nothing. He demonstrated how water flows out through his fingers if you pour it into your hands. Columbus: Do you see? But if there is a lot of water, then even my carrack holds on, does not sink. Maybe "nothing" will be enough? oO The ships that travel through the void of space do the same. Oo Shewytch: You're right, I agree. Everyone must believe in their ship and in the crew that will take it through everything. That was enough for him. He heard everything he wanted to hear. Indeed, he was on a spaceship precisely to go somewhere where there were no other ships, and to explore it all. At some points, you forget about it, the routine. But at such moments, the thirst to see something new increases. But before he left, he decided to see what would happen next, and of course he skipped it. The weather changed, the air changed, it was noticeable. The ships were in a line. And he was on one of them. And suddenly he heard a shout. Stranger: Land! oO They have found their destination. Now it's my turn. Oo After closing the program, he left the holodeck in the direction of the scientific laboratories. Now he needs somewhere to put his great reserves of enthusiasm. ----- Ensign Slav Shewytch, Junior Science Officer USS Astraeus, NCC-70652 A240008SS2
  4. This is our first insight into the situation on the USS Aldrin as told from one of the crew, namely the Captain. It's an amazing piece of writing and I wanted to give a shout out to @Esa_Darkkdust for writing it so well. Great job! -------- ((Jefferies Tube Seven-Alpha, Deck Four, USS Aldrin)) The Jeffries tube echoed as Serena-Marie pulled the small make-shift sled behind her, the sound of metal scraping against metal had been a constant as she’d moved around the ship trying to make whatever repairs she could. The last ten days had been actual hell. Of the fifteen people she’d volunteered to come with her, only eight were left. Seven had succumbed to the madness of the Cloud and had lost their lives. One of them she’d ended herself. She called it self-preservation, but the moment still played out in her mind. Over, and over, and over, and over. She’d been on the bridge with one of the junior officers who worked as a helmsman on one of the late shifts. A good man. Solid worker. He’d managed to pilot the Aldrin far enough away from that station so that they could attempt repairs… Then that crazed Vulcan scientist had snuck their way in and murdered him. Plunged a sharpened piece of duranium into his back before he could react. Then they came for her… Their strength was enough to knock Serena-Marie to the ground, and the two of them subsequently engaged in a struggle. Through some… sheer dumb luck… she’d managed to grab a piece of debris that had fallen from the ceiling and cracked it against the side of the Vulcan’s head, who proceeded to fall down like a sack of lead on top of her. She thought she’d made the right decision, saving the ship and the majority of the crew. She had to assume they were safe. Her First Officer would take care of them… oO Right? Oo Now she was second guessing herself. Seven dead… That left herself, the Operations Chief, two Scientists and four Engineers. She didn’t even know if the others were alive. Internal sensors were temperamental at best, and communications were still down. She had left Lieutenant JG Tenaya and three other engineers down in Engineering behind a forcefield, but that was several hours ago. Hopefully they were still there. She and Ensign Bradshaw were on their way to the bridge. Lieutenant Moore had gone to the Science deck with the other scientist, from the Lighthouse, attempting to clear the gaseous soup that still infested the lower decks so that they could get to the shield emitters… She and Moore hadn’t exactly seen eye to eye over the last ten days. Deep down, she blamed him for the whole situation. From her point of view, if he had just listened to her and secured the research before they’d arrived at Outpost Ceti, then they wouldn’t be in this mess. At last, they reached the ladder. Wallace: Still alive back there, Bradshaw? Bradshaw: ::Breathlessly:: Yes… Captain. Wallace: Nearly there now, Ensign. Just four decks up and we’ll be on Deck One. We can take a break then. She turned at the last moment to see the Ensign nodding, before gathering up the small sled full of tools in one arm and pushing it up the ladder. ((Bridge, Deck One)) A few minutes of climbing later, and the pair emerged into a tube that led to the side of the bridge, just next to the Engineering station. In the distance, she thought she could hear voices? As they got closer, she was more and more sure of that. Unknown: Do we have a crew and body count yet? And any indication for the whereabouts of any crew who may not be accounted for? Body count? They must have found the body of the Helmsman… A few more voices chimed in, before the first voice spoke again. Unknown: Do the logs have anything to say on that? They were accessing the logs… Raiders? Pirates? Were they after the rest of the crew? Serena-Marie waved her hand at Bradshaw to stay back, as she pulled her phaser from her hip. She switched the SIMs beacon on her wrist on, but kept it pressed against her body while she slowly and quietly opened the hatch onto the bridge. When it was opened enough for her to poke the barrel of her phaser and the beacon through, she called out loudly. Wallace: Identify yourselves! She hoped that the darkness, coupled with the bright light from her beacon aimed at their eyes, would be enough to dazzle them slightly, giving her an advantage if they started shooting. Wallace: If you’re here to scavenge, I warn you: This phaser is set to kill! Away team: Responses Serena-Marie scoffed, audibly enough to show her disbelief to the intruders. Wallace: Oh yeah? Prove it! There’s no way Starfleet would send another ship out here to die! Away team: Responses PNPC Captain Serena-Marie Wallace, PhD USS Aldrin Simmed by: Lieutenant Commander Esa Kiax Chief Operations Officer USS Astraeus – NCC 70652 A239511ED0
  5. Congratulations to you as well, Ensign! You did extremely well. It was a pleasure writing with you and I look forward to getting an opportunity to do so again in the future!
  6. Congratulations, Everyone!! You more than earned these!!
  7. Congratulations to all our winners. Very well deserved!!
  8. I was actually the FO, and congrats to both of you. Great job. See ya out there!
  9. Serala is sporting a simple black dress designed by Human designer Jacques Belvier.
  10. James stood at the balcony overlooking the city of Delgast. The place was a hotbed of criminal activity, though from this height one would never know it. Like so many other cities he had been in over the years of his service in Starfleet Intelligence, this one hosted a very rich class of criminals. The ones who called all the shots. The streets on the ground level, where the petty crimes happened - not that all of them were really petty, and not that any of them were okay - were hidden from this height. It was easy to forget the darker side of the planet’s society with such a breathtaking view. In the distance were the Telang mountains, majestic peaks to rival Earth’s Rocky Mountains or the Alps. The fertile valley that lay below them was rife with plentiful harvests. But it was what was being harvested there that had drawn him here. Word had reached Intelligence that the crops were a highly purified form of a plant known to produce extremely addictive substances. Those crops would then be sold to underworld types for a tidy profit - which accounted for the lavishness of the city - and then distributed in seedier cities throughout the Federation. And to top it all off, his investigation here had revealed an even darker secret. The Orion Syndicate was behind all of it. He was getting close, he knew. Just a few more days and he would have all the information he needed and then he could return to Bogotá, where his Romulan wife and half-Romulan daughter waited for him. And his other daughter, the one he would never be able to acknowledge or talk about. Maria deserved so much better from him, but if R’Val ever learned she was his daughter, she’d kill him. Of that, he had no doubt. Instead, he’d taken her mother in as a house servant and raised little Maria alongside her older sister Serala. The two were good friends, he knew, but if she ever really knew that Maria was her sister, how would she react? He shuddered to think about it. Pulling himself out of his reverie, he turned to walk back inside the apartment, one that had been provided to him by his contact. He’d barely taken two steps when the plaster on the wall next to him exploded, showering him with fragments and coating him in white dust. Instinctively, he tucked and rolled, knowing the first attack was only a precursor. Someone was trying to kill him. He managed to roll out of the way as a second explosion occurred only two feet from him, tearing up the floor and destroying some rather opulent furniture. Acting solely on instinct now, James regained his feet and dashed for cover. A third explosion sounded behind him and he felt his feet swept from under him by the shockwave from the blast. The fall caused his head to hit the ground hard, and the explosion had his ears ringing. Still, he couldn’t afford to lay where he was. He quickly rolled into the hallway where he had been retreating. It would take him out of the line of sight from whoever was shooting at him. Once there, he scrambled to his feet and began making his way toward the front door. But that direction proved to be futile as he heard a loud thud and crack. “Damn,” he muttered to himself, swiftly changing course. He was quickly running out of options. Being thirty-five stories above ground did have a few disadvantages to it. The front door thudded again, and again another splintering sound. Only this time, the splintering was more thorough and he knew the door had been breached. Drawing the Klingon disruptor he’d procured a few days prior, he took cover behind a wall and aimed for the entrance to the hall from the main foyer. From this vantage point, he was able to see several people pouring into the suite, all of various species, none of which were friendly to the Federation. A large, burly Orion man led the way, shouting directions to the others. Several of the team started down his hall and left with little option, he opened fire, the disruptor’s wide beam setting taking down three would-be attackers instantly. But more were right behind them. And now alerted to his location, the others began to redirect themselves as well. A metallic chink sounded, followed by a thud and the sound of metal rolling on wood, and he looked down to see himself face to face with a thermal grenade. He launched himself behind a nearby chair, hoping to use it for cover, but it proved minimal at best. The explosion from it ripped through the air, tearing apart the wall, the furniture and the chair he was behind. He felt his flesh seared and scorched, and his suit jacket was aflame. He quickly doffed the burning coat and made to rise, but by that point, the Orion and seven of his goons had arrived, all with assorted beam weapons pointed right at him. He never knew where the person came from, or where she went afterward. He never learned her identity or why she was there, but one moment he was facing down the barrels of eight weapons. The next, they had been vaporized by a disruptor grenade. A brief thought occurred to him that he might have been vaporized as well if the grenade had rolled a foot closer to the room he was in. Instead, the blast had been channeled by the shape of the hallway and took out his attackers. The woman appeared from around the corner and signaled him to follow her. Not taking the time to ask all the questions in his mind, he simply nodded and rose to follow. When they reached the foyer, she saw a man dressed very similarly to him laying on the ground, clearly dead. “Martin,” he whispered. Martin had been his Syndicate contact. As far as James had known, he’d never figured out James’ real identity. But maybe he had. “Put something personal to you on him,” the woman whispered. “He’s going to be you, now.” He turned to look at her, a questioning look on his face. Was she suggesting that he fake his own death? “Yes,” she replied, as if she could read his thoughts. And maybe she could. After all, she was dressed in light combat gear, all black, and had a full face mask over her face. No way for him to identify her or her species. “It is the only way now. If the Syndicate believes you dead, they will stop coming after you. If not, they will come after you and your family. Now hurry, we don’t have much time.” So, this was it. The end of his life as he knew it. He’d been trained for this possibility when he’d been recruiting into the covert operations division. But now it was reality. And it would mean letting R’Val, Serala and little Maria all believe he was dead. Forever. The idea pained him, but he also knew this mysterious woman was correct. The Syndicate would never stop. And Earth was no barrier for them. He quickly removed his identification papers. They had been forged to give him a new identity that should have held up under scrutiny. But they would also serve to identify him, even to Starfleet who knew his alias. When that was done, the woman quickly blasted his body, destroying any identifying features so there would be no reason to doubt his identity. That done, the two quickly made their escape, meeting no further resistance. Six Months Later James stood in Keibrom, the capital city of Tibro, one of the Valcarian Empires governmental seats. No longer was he James Davis, he was now Jemmar Darven, a loyal citizen of the Valcarian Imperial Republic. He’d had to reinvent himself after his staged death on Elmacar Four. Starfleet Intelligence, it seemed, had learned the truth and contacted him covertly, ordering him to lay low here and to keep his ears and eyes open. The Federation had an interest in this region, and while they weren’t quite ready to start exploring it yet, having a set of eyes on the inside would be most helpful when the time finally came. In the short time he’d been here, he had met a lovely young Valcarian woman and the two were growing quite close. While she would never truly replace R’Val, he decided that it would be possible to build a future with her if he wanted. After all, as one of his instructors in Intelligence had once told him, “When you come to the end of one road, you’ll find you’re only standing at the beginning of another one. Take it and see where the journey leads you.” Shrugging, he made his way from his little shop to the tavern he knew he would find her working in. Maybe he would take that new road after all.
  11. Okay, I both love and hate this guy already. @Tomas Falt, if you need any help dealing with your new assistant, I know another First Officer who has a classic way of dealing with these types. 😁😂 Of course, she did lose her job as Chief TacSec and was ordered to attend mandatory counseling, but hey.... ===== ((Space Port, Denali Station, Ring 42)) Crewman First Class Tersus stepped off the supply shuttle and took in his first view of Ring 42. His trip to Denali Station had been arranged at such short notice he’d only been able to secure a cramped, confined berth aboard a supply shuttle. He hadn’t even had a window, so he’d missed the apparently spectacular sight of ring from space and had been looking forward to taking it all in on landing. Unfortunately, the scene now in front of him was… unimpressive... He appeared to have disembarked in a space dock area, which certainly didn't look like anything special. He’d describe it as functional at best. He really hoped he hadn't taken such an uncomfortable trip all the way to the frontier for this! He took a deep breath of air from his breathing apparatus, the atmosphere of the Ring was not compatible with Benzite physiology after all, and centred himself. Whilst mildly disappointed about missing the view, it was not the reason he’d come to Denali station. He needed to find the Executive Officer - one Lieutenant Commander Falt - and introduce himself. The man was to be his new superior, even if he didn't know it yet. He spotted a grubby looking engineering crewman and asked them for directions to station operations, where he assumed the Commander would be. He found himself directed to a corner of the port facility, where on arrival he was surprised to find a transport arch. oO Perhaps they aren't so backwards here after all. Oo ((XO’s Office, Level 15, Anchorage, Denali Station)) The transporter arch had whisked him to what he’d assumed was the command district. After accosting someone else for directions to the operations centre he’d quickly made his way there, only to be informed Commander Falt was actually in his office four floors up... Since he’d been sitting in a shuttle for hours he’d hurried up the stairs, keen to meet his new beneficiary; even if they didn’t know they were yet… Arriving at the office door he took a moment to straighten his uniform before pressing the door chime. Falt: ::from inside the office:: It’s open. He stepped forward, the doors swishing open in front of him, and marched straight to the XO’s desk. Tersus: Lieutenant Commander Falt, I am Crewman First Class Tersus. The Commander, a youngish human with blue eyes and blonde hair looked up at him from behind a truly enormous stack of PADD’s. Falt: Mister Tersus. I don’t believe we’ve met. What can I do for you? He paused before answering, and took a gulp of air from his rebreather. It was a tactic he adopted when he was trying to have a conversation on his terms. Tersus: ::deliberately:: Crewman First Class, sir. I have been told you are in need of an assistant. I have arrived, your need is fulfilled. Falt looked puzzled. Tersus hoped it was due to his unexpected arrival. The alternative was that he looked that gormless all the time. Falt: ::holding up a hand:: Slow down, crewman. I’ve received a number of applications for the post. I take it yours is amongst them? Tersus: Crewman First Class, sir. No, sir. I did not complete an application. Now I’m here I’m confident you’ll agree the application process is redundant. He watched as the Commander lent back in his chair and put his boots on the desk. Knocking a couple of waiting PADDs off onto the floor as he did so. oO Oh no, this won’t do at all. Oo Falt: And what makes you think that, crewman… first class? Tersus was sure he detected a hint of sarcasm as the man said his rank, although it was possible it was just his ridiculous accent. He took another deliberate breath and ignored it. Tersus: Simply because I am Tersus. The best administrator in the fleet. For example, I’ve already determined twenty-six ways to improve your already excellent filing system. The latter statement was a lie of course, but experience told him it was best to take things slow in a situation like this. The Commander looked at the pile of PADDs and then back at him, eyebrow raised. Falt: Excellent filing system? If you think this is excellent then I can’t see how you could be an administrator in the fleet, let alone the best. Tersus: Forgive me, sir. I didn’t want to insult you the first time we met. I can actually see at least fifty-one ways to improve it… And you are correct your filing system is atrocious, the worst I’ve ever encountered. oO Like, really, truly, the worst… Oo Falt: Well at least your being honest about that. However, I’m afraid you’ll need to put in a late application, which I’ll consider if I don’t find a suitable candidate in the meantime. I’d also suggest you speak to your current team leader about raising your clearance level. Dismissed. Tersus took a deep breath from his apparatus but otherwise didn’t move. Tersus: With respect, sir. I already have Level 9 clearance due to my role in the Judge Advocate General’s Office. He took a breath as he watched the man react. Level 9 clearance was only one down from “Captain’s eyes only.” He could see the man pause, likely wondering how a Crewman First Class got such a high clearance level? Falt: It sounds like you’re all set, which begs the question why are you here? Tersus: Simply put, the Ring sir. I find the possibility of cataloguing the discoveries we will make here really quiet intoxicating. It’s why I boarded the transport when I heard about the opening in the first place, I wouldn’t normally work for a mere Lieutenant Commander otherwise. For the first time since they’d met a flash of annoyance crossed the Commanders face. Falt: A mere Lieutenant Commander, I thought you weren’t trying to insult me? Tersus: Forgive me, sir. I’m used to working for Captain’s and Admirals. Falt: ::still annoyed:: And what do they think about you coming to ask for a job on the ring? Tersus: Whilst all my performance reviews have been exemplary my mannerisms haven’t won me too many friends, sir. Falt’s annoyed expression was pushed aside by a snort of amusement. Falt: Indeed. Regardless, my decision hasn’t changed. Tersus paused. He’d expected his argument to have worked by now. What he needed was a chance to show the man how much help he could really be. And judging by the administrative chaos on the desk in front of him he really needed it. Tersus: A suggestion, sir. You’re about to go on a mission so you won’t be interviewing candidates until you return anyway. Allow me to stay on a trial basis, if nothing else I could sort out your filing system whilst your away. It would be an afront to my profession to leave without at least doing that. Falt considered his offer for a moment. He could tell the man knew it was a win-won scenario. He relaxed slightly. Falt: Very well Crewman First Class Tersus. I’ll validate your credentials and if everything checks out I’ll authorize a secondment for the length of the next mission. You have one chance to impress me. Anything less than perfection and you’ll be on the next transport off the ring. Are we clear? Tersus smiled for the first time. One chance was all he would need. Tersus: Aye, sir. You won’t regret this. Falt: We’ll see. Now, you are dismissed crewman; and I’d really go this time if I were you. Tersus gave him a nod and strode out of his office as purposefully as he’d entered, although this time he wasn’t looking for a job, he was looking for the view of the ring he’d missed on the way in. NT / END Crewman First Class Tersus Administrative Assistant Denali Station as simmed by Lieutenant Commander Tomas Falt Executive Officer Denali Station J239807TF2
  12. Ditto. If she can promote Paris, then demote him, then promote him again; promote Tuvok, and give every member of the Maquis a Starfleet rank, there's no reason Harry should have been left an Ensign for 7 years.
  13. Okay, @Mason G's next one was equally as good, though not necessary for the comedy - though there is a bit here as well. Just very well written and great insight into the Bynar mind.
  14. So, for context, the Astraeus is conducting warp tests to test out a new maximum emergency threshold and we're engaging in some risky behavior. This piece of @Mason G's latest sim in that arc just had me crackin' up, so I thought I would share it with everyone. Now I'm hoping we don't turn into space roadkill. Thanks, @Mason G 😂
  15. I don't want to get into spoilers, but for those who didn't really like S1 or S2, you should really check this one out anyway. It was a complete pivot from those other two, though it did build off of (slightly) some events in those seasons. Great way to finish!
  16. The Rihannsu Series by Diane Duane. I've read these a few times, though it's been several years since my last go through, but I can't ever get enough of my Romulans.
  17. Jadzia Dax and Worf Odo and Kira T'Pol and Trip So many choices!!! 😱
  18. I loved seeing 101 and 000 step up to defend this young local. Great stuff @Mason G! Also, the idea of a purple football was supposed to be a serious thought, but it still gave me a chuckle. 101 took a step forward, trying not to scowl, but 000 lacked the courage of their partner and remained a little further back— though still within reach. 101: Leave her alone. She’s just a little girl. Levinson: Response T'Prana: Response McKnight / Kiax: Responses The second guard squinted at 101, probably trying to decide if it was worth the trouble to punt them like a little purple football, but after a moment he let it go. His shoulders relaxed slightly with the decision, but his expression remained sour. Guard 2: Perhaps not— after a while, they all look the same… but don’t think you can convince me that she can be trusted. 101 stood firm, unimpressed by the response. With a concerned expression, 000 leaned in to Jurong to speak to her. 000: ::softly, to Ka’ala:: Are you okay?
  19. This sim from @Esa_Darkkdust is a great picture of some of the challenges facing one of the classes of people on the world Lanaxa that the crew has gone to assist. It is very well written and I felt it deserved a mention here. Great job, Esa! (Trigger Warning: Some parts of this might be triggering for some people as it deals with indentured servitude and forced poverty and the issues that arise from that. We hope this won't trigger anyone, but please read with caution.) ============ ((Indentured Servitude Slums, Meranta City, Lanaxa)) A morning mist had fallen on the slopes of the mountain that played home to Meranta City. Few of the residents scurried their way around the streets, making their way into the castle or out into the fields for work. For Jurog, her morning consisted of splitting what little food she had left between those under her care, portioning out more for those that had caught the illness and those that were younger than she. She had only turned seventeen a few weeks ago, finally able to get her own food packages from the stores, but the her parents had gotten sick with the illness, and it wasn't long before they were both gone, chun an taobh thall… To the beyond. Today, however, word from one of the Seirbhiseach who worked in the Talla a 'Bhaile had reached her that the people from the stars were arriving. Eager to be on time, she hurried through her routine, tending to the small ones, who would only go out and cause trouble on the streets the moment she left. Once outside and on her way from the lean-to she called home to the Capitol, Jurog saw a shimmering blue light in the distance and moved closer to investigate. When she saw people where the light once was, she ducked behind one of the buildings. They had just appeared out of thin air! Trembling, she crept closer, her curiosity getting the better of her. She almost jumped out of her skin when one of them spoke to her - it was a voice she recognised. The one that had spoken to her on the video screen! But then, she couldn't be sure. The screen was old and had been repaired by whatever means they'd managed to pull together. Sometimes the voices wouldn't be so good. Levinson: Jurog Ka'ala, I presume? Jurog peered at the figures, squinting almost, her poor eyesight letting her down in this most crucial of moments. Her parents had never been able to afford the corrective procedure, or the fancy eyepieces that the Uasail wore. It wasn’t until she crept a bit closer that their faces began to come into focus. There were two blue ones, both with pointy ears, and four yellow ones. One with spots, two small purple ones, and one with something that looked like a big water wing on his wrist. Inside she giggled. Perhaps he didn't know how to swim? Ka'ala: ::Meekly:: Yes, are you the people from up there? The ones that call on the video screen? Levinson: Indeed. It is good to speak to you face to face, and your agreeing to help is appreciated. T'Prana : Greetings. 101: Hello! 000: Hello… Kiax / McKnight: Responses Jurog shrank away slightly, intimidated by the smartly dressed space travellers. The masks they wore were frightening, like the ones the guards wore when the air grew acrid. They seemed friendly, but their exuberant salutations were not something that she had ever experienced before. She couldn’t help but notice that none of them looked the same, except for the two small ones… Though one of them looked to be more assertive than the other. Ka'ala: Hello… Levinson: Ms. Ka'ala has agreed to assist us with our search for the source of the virus. I believe having a local guide to the area will be beneficial. Jurong nodded, earnestly, strands of her matted hair falling across her face. Ka'ala: A great many of us are sick, and many more are dying… We are desperate. People say you are the ones who stopped the ground shaking. If I can help you, maybe you can help us. 101 & 000: Responses McKnight / Kiax: Responses Levinson: Could you show us around, perhaps? Knowing where and how the food and water are kept and distributed, as well as knowing the areas where people usually socialise around might help us rule out likely sources and ways of transferring the virus. Ka'ala: I can show you the taigh-stòir bìdh ((food storehouse))… But the guards might turn me away. I have already had my weekly food package… The river is nearby, which is where we get our water. After that I can take you to the square, and the market. Levinson: Response 101 & 000 / T'Prana: Responses McKnight / Kiax: Responses Jurog smiled weakly, and started leading the group down the hill toward the fields where the Agri-hangars were. They were several, large, dome-roofed buildings that separated the slums from the fields. Each one had two guards with pike-shaped weapons stationed by the entrance - their purpose simply to dissuade any of the Seirbhiseach from breaking in and stealing the produce. The food that they were given was strictly regulated by the Uasail, and only provided to them once a week in a boxed package. As they approached, Jurog slowed slightly, moving closer to the one with the pointed ears. She couldn’t remember her name from the conversation on the video screen, and was too afraid to ask again. Ka’ala: The guards are there to stop us from taking the food. Can you talk to them? They are often unkind to us and I… don’t wish to receive a’ bualadh ((a beating)). Levinson: Response 101 & 000 / T'Prana: Responses McKnight / Kiax: Responses As the group edged closer, the guard closest to them turned aggressively toward them. The physical bulk of the man was capable of snapping Jurog’s comparatively brittle frame into many pieces if she strayed any closer. She moved closer to the pointy eared one, and the one with the spots. They seemed to be the ones in charge - hopefully they would be the ones to protect her if the guards got angry. Guard 1: Halt. No Seirbhiseach are permitted to enter the taigh-stòir bìdh outside of the harvesting hours. Levinson: Response 101 & 000 / T'Prana: Responses McKnight / Kiax: Responses Guard 2: And how do we know that you’ll keep your word? That little thief was in here last week, pilfering extra grain for her little band of lowlifes. Jurong shook her head, defiantly. Ka'ala: No. You lie! I was never here! Levinson: Response 101 & 000 / T'Prana: Responses McKnight / Kiax: Responses --- MSNPC Jurog Ka'ala Citizen of Lanaxa Simmed by: Lieutenant Commander Esa Kiax Chief of Operations USS Astraeus A239511ED0
  20. And the Adventure continues.... ========== (( Ruins of the Replicator of Gen’tronic )) Wyla couldn’t help but look up at the large and imposing, yet impressive structure around them. It was stone, but felt ancient and looked as though it had survived for millennia with, as far as she could tell, not as much deterioration as she would have expected from a structure as old as Nibble has made it out to be. The immense chamber was lined with dozens of alcoves along the left and right walls, the stonework had fine details carved into them and looked eerily beautiful. At the back of the chamber however sat an immense machine? It looked like a machine of metal and stone and crystal. That rose up over ten meters high and took up a twenty meter section of the floor. Sleek, if partially crumbled steps lead up to it. And there in the middle of the device, was a spine shaped piece of what Wyla could only say, looked like armor. Avae: Is…is that? ::She asked weakly from Twibbles back:: The troupe of twibbles approached it, though Ribble, Swibble, and Kwibble’s eyes were on those alcoves while they walked. Nibble: I believe it is! This arcane device is ancient, but should still be functional since that barrier is still working. Pwibble: What barrier? He asked puzzled but Nibble smiled. Nibble: There’s a magical barrier protecting it. I can see it. Give me a moment and you should too. The twibble’s eyes glowed a moment as did her talisman and a few seconds later a glowing barrier shimmered into view. Wyla felt a tingle in her eyes. Nibble must have given them all the same sight she had. Kwibble: How do we get the artifact? They stepped up to the platform to inspect it for a moment, with Nibble in the lead. She studied the barrier for several long moments while the rest of the group waited. Her guardians took up positions around her and warily looked about the dark, ominous chamber. Only Wyla’s diminished light from her medallion offered any illumination beyond the barrier that shielded the artifact from them. Nibble: I think..if we touch these runes here in the right ord…oops. The twibble touched one of them and the room began to rumble. Twibble: Oops? Niibble…what did you do? The adorable twibble spun around and shook her head. Nibble: I didn’t touch any of the runes, I promise, there’s just this weird web… She wiggled and minute, almost imperceptible strands of filament waved like cobwebs. That’s when the chittering started. Click, click clack. Tink, tink, tink tink tink tink. Like the sound of dozens of metal boots on stone echoed through the chamber and everyone seemed to realize the sound was coming from above them and all around them. Wyla slowly turned her head to the side and strained to glance back up at the ceiling while flattened to Twibble’s back. Eyes. Dozens of sharp, red eyes moved like a swarm down the walls. When the first came into view her heart and stomach both sank simultaneously. The eyes were multifaceted and sat atop the sleek, deadly body of an eight legged frame. Ribble & Swibble: Spiders. Why’d it have to be spiders! A loud roar rumbled from Twibble, who sensed the fear in his subordinates. While Twibble hadn’t faced these foes before, he knew that several of those with him had. Twibble: Steaady yourselves. Protect Wylaa! The rally roar of the large lion bolstered the others who gripped their various weapons at the ready. Nibble wasted no time and hurled lightning, orbs of fire and rays of ice at the inbound arachnids. Sadly, the rest had to wait until the arachnids drew closer, which didn’t seem to take long as several just leapt from the walls and landed all around them with metallic clangs. Despite the height, none of the spiders seemed phased and Wyla squeaked in fright as several landed on top of Twibble. She batted at those she could reach while the others scrambled to defends themselves. Twibble raked his claws on those he could reach and flung them several meters away, for them to land with a clatter, only to flip themselves back right side up and chitter towards them again. Ribble: Ee gads, there beeth so many of them! Ribble exclaimed whilst he swung those climbing axes about violently, each swing cleaved through several of the metallic spiders that continued to fall from above them. Kwibble: I hate these spiders! Kwibble and Swibble swapped back and forth between groups of arachnids, their blades cut through them easily enough but made loud clangs. Two dervishes of twibble fury. Ribble caught one spider in mid air as it attempted to fall on him and he tore it in half. Pwibble used his anchor like a bat from a sport that sent many spiders into the air back whence they came with loud thuds and clangs. Libble patched some stings and scratches in Twibble’s hide, and swung her medkit backhanded to knock a spider off of the lion’s rear. Everyone fought so hard, Wyla felt somewhat useless. And there were so many, she wished that they had something to help keep the spiders at bay. Or had more help to get the artifact from the machine while they held them off. The light from her medallion flared and made everyone startle a moment when a sliver of light formed vertically in the air just at the base of the steps. It looked like a tear in the air, but shimmered with a blue light, a familiar blue light. Nibble: Someone’s teleporting in. She warned. Twibble: Greaat, what now? The blue sliver disappeared with a pop and Wyla stared at a quartet of new figures. More Twibbles!!! ‘Ave no fear! The Artificers are ‘ere!’ Four twibbles emerged from the column of blue light before it faded. All in gold uniforms. All with toolkits on their sides, though the one that spoke had a beaten old thermos that hung opposite his toolkit. And he wielded a large cutting tool that sparked at the tip. The one next to him had a big smile and wielded a different tool as a weapon. Wibble: See! I told you I sensed they were in twibble! Then there were the two smaller twibbles standing beside one another. They had artificer devices on their heads and worn around their belts. Each was worn on the opposite side of the other one so while they stood beside each other, they looked symmetrical. Twipple: Oh that’s a lot Mibble: of spiders but Twipple: d..don’t worry we’re Mibble: here to help! The older, scruffier looking twibble with the thermos stepped up and grinned. Dwibble: ‘lright lads. Take those spiders apart! While Wibble ‘an I get that shield down! The quarter rushed into the fray, up the platform to help the others, who cheered with excitement and Wyla couldn’t help but grin a little at the cute new arrivals. The larger of the two immediately moved to study the runes on the machine. Several tense minutes passed, or so she felt, with their group fighting back the spiders. Which seemed fewer in number that descended from above. Maybe there was a limit to how many guardians this place had. She hoped. A loud whirr sounded and they looked back to see the barrier in front of the Spine fade. Which resulted in a chorus of cheers from the twibbles. Dwibble: Told ‘ya. Nothin’ that good ole ingenuity can’t fix! The machine whirred to life, the stone and metal all around them began to glow as light flowed out from the machine into the stone like LEDs in the stonework. It was beautiful. Then she felt it. A tug on her body and a moment later she looked behind her to see a long metallic limb that touched her back. The Spine of Paralysis Removal was held in a limb-like aperture that, once the shield was lowered, moved the spine out of the casing. She felt the metal against her back as the machine clamped the artifact to her back. Wyla gasped and heard the clicking sound of the metal from the spine shaped device as it spread around her. Like links, folding over one after the other to form a suit of armor around her entire body save for her face. It lifted her off Twibbles back and held her aloft in front of the machine. Nibble: The machine has chosen Wyla!!! Nibble exclaimed excitedly and for a moment, everyone seemed to be able to relax. Maybe her hopes had been warranted. She smiled at the twibbles below her, then convulsed. A sharp pain in her back made her cry out. Libble: Oh no, something’s wrong!! I think her body is fighting the artifact. An echo not heard since the first chamber they’d ventured into after the twibbles found her suddenly sounded around them. Showing signs of rejection and vitals are showing a slight drop but are still within normal parameters. She felt her body grow colder and the light from her medallion dimmed significantly. Libble: Hang on Wyla. The alcoves all around them began to glow as her light dimmed and the rumbling of the machine grew louder. Each alcove brightened and a moment later a metallic skeleton, or another metallic spider emerged from every other alcove. A sense of dread fell over the group as they realized where the guardians had come from. Every twibble formed a ring around Wyla while she was held in the air just above them by the machine. Either she would blend with the artifact, or reject it. She only needed time. To be continued….? ================================== Lieutenant JG Wyla Avae Chief Nurse Keeper of Twibbles as unconsciously simmed by Lieutenant Commander Toryn Raga Second Officer/Chief Tactical & Security Officer USS Astraeus NCC-70652 Astraeus Staff Member Writer ID: A239410TR0 https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=Toryn_Raga
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