Serala

Yeah, definitely good to hear, and I suspected it wouldn't be an issue. I look forward to seeing how it all turns out.

I'm not really much of a poetry person, sad to say, but this was just excellently done by @Toryn Raga

It's an interesting idea. However, I would recommend reaching out to your CO and FO for guidance on it. With the return of Voyager and subsequently, the MHE, it's arguably possible. But I would still say it would be best to check with your command staff and get their input on it. I'd be interested to know what they have to say, however.

Yes! I almost posted that myself! I loved it!

Congratulations, Ensign!

I just could not stop chuckling at this characterization of the complexities of emotion and personal interaction. 😄

And then there was this one ... Sorry, Captain. Looks like Serala's daughter started something. (( Brew Continuum, Deck 10, USS Chin’toka )) Long days. Too many long days. At least lately there hadn’t been many injuries to tend to, mostly just working on repairs and inventories and coordinating with the colonists with setting up temporary medical facilities until the more permanent ones were built. They had at least one biobed in need of replacement, a casualty from the power surge that had disabled part of their tactical systems during the worst month of her life, and that had spilled over into other systems. Turns out, when power conduits burst they can affect multiple systems. Wyla had just managed to finish her shift, well, it was over two hours ago and the Antosian Chief Nurse was working beyond her allotted time. It’s not like she had a social life to worry about. Still, she was drained and the purple haired nurse, still in her long teal medical coat, hands in her pockets shambled into the Brew Continuum for some much needed coffee. She vaguely was aware that the place was far busier than it usually was at this time of day, but made her way over to the bar. Peters: response She smiled up at their Helmsman, moonlighting as a barista and shrugged. Avae: My usual, but make it a double. ::She blinked:: Wait, a Captain what plushie? She looked from Peters to the fluffy stuffed toy sitting on the counter and the bubbly Antosian’s eyes widened. Sitting there on the counter was the most adorable thing she’d ever seen, and she had seen puppies and kittens and even a few toddlers. Peters: response An unexpected squeak of delight escaped the Nurse’s lips before she could stifle herself and she scooped up the offered plushie and squeezed it tightly, then held it aloft like she’d just discovered the Sword of Kah’less or the Holy Grail or any other civilizations lost artifact. Avae: Oh my stars it’s so cute and it’s got a Starfleet uniform and Captain’s pips and cute little ears that bend and oh it’s so fluffy I could almost cry and it’s so soft this just has to be the cutest thing ever I have to have this I have so many plushies already and this is just going to be like the centerpiece of them all when did you get this? True to form, the excitable Antosian didn’t even seem to breathe as she rambled off in pure joy. And then, the sensation of multiple eyes in the room filtered in. That feeling you get in public, especially when you’re the awkward, anti-social sort like Wyla was her anxiety senses started tingling and she slowly looked around the room. Oh, it was more crowded than usual alright. And in an instant the color both simultaneously drained from her face and then flooded her cheeks bright crimson as she saw at least one person in dress whites, and noted that most of the people in the lounge weren’t even from the Chin’toka. Wedding guests. The realization hit her and she had heard that at least one Commodore, or Admiral or something would be in attendance. Poor Wyla stood frozen, clutching the Captain Twibble plushie tightly both protectively and also for protection from the embarrassment. Causing the ears to poke out more and the cute little eyes to just barely peek out, bulged over the top of her arms. Peters: response Anyone: response Avae: Oh...I...I’m so sorry. Uhm, Captain I didn’t realize that threw would be so many people here and I just couldn’t help it cause it’s just so cute and that doesn’t mean that you aren’t cute or anything I mean you’re married obviously but that uhm isn’t the point and there’s so many people here uhm hello. Catching herself rambling again, Wyla, bright cheeked, tried to quantum merge with the molecules of the bar while waiting on her coffee and clutching the Captain Twibble plushie tightly. Despite her embarrassment, it was clear that the Nurse had no intention of being parted from the adorable toy. Peters/Anyone: response ================================= Lieutenant JG Wyla Avae Chief Nurse as boisterously simmed by Lieutenant Commander Toryn Raga Second Officer/Chief TacSec Officer USS Chin'toka NCC-97187 Chin'toka Staff Member Writer ID: A239410TR0 https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=Toryn_Raga

We have several visitors aboard for a special occasion, one of whom is the First Officer of SB118. I absolutely loved this sim and was literally crying from laughter when I read it. ((USS Chin’toka - Brew Continuum)) Make new friends, but keep the old… Alora loved meeting new people, but she also loved reconnecting with old friends. Mei’konda was of the latter, one she hadn’t seen in so long that it felt almost like forever. They had last served together before his ascendancy to the captain’s chair. Since then, he had gone from the Veritas, to the Montreal and been having adventures with a crew of his own while Alora had gone from the Veritas, to the research facility to Ops. Now they were in different places, serving different roles, living in different parts of their galaxy. That didn’t change, and never would change the fact that Mei’konda was her friend. One is silver and the other’s gold… She had offered a hug. Some people, she just automatically threw her arms around them, pulled them into a veritable choke hold and wouldn’t let go til the wind had been knocked out of them. However, she also knew that Mei’konda wasn’t quite so keen on such displays, so the silent offer was given and she allowed him to choose whether or not to accept it. She was quite happy that he did so, but for his sake, she kept it brief. A circle is round, it has no end... Mei wasn’t the only ‘long lost friend’ she would get to see. The bride and groom were on that list as well, and surely they were somewhere. For the moment, though, Mei was her point of focus - that and finding out whether or not the violets she’d given were still alive. She was doubly happy to hear that they were. Two points scored. She was quite delighted to be able to catch up with the Caitian after several years serving in different places. That’s how long I want to be your friend… And though she was with one of her newer friends, Alora found herself caught up in the moment, caught up with the greeting, caught up with the delight in seeing that familiar face that she had served with on no less than four ships. That type of history always left a mark, and Mei had certainly left a favourable one upon her. Yet, when it came to the Captain of the Chin’toka, another name and another face was coupled with it. It was inevitable. The two had been together for quite some time, and had married. Evan, with whom she had worked with, studied with, and relaxed with, was counted among those friends as well, but she didn’t see him - and according to Mei’konda, he was currently dealing with responsibilities. But hopefully... DeVeau: Is he coming to the wedding? Mei’konda: Yes. He’ll be here for that, at the very least. Oh good. So that would give her the opportunity to catch up with him as well. Alora’s smile brightened at the prospect. It was so wonderful to reconnect. As they conversed, the group ambled over to the bar, and a voice greeted them. Peters: Welcome, folks, to the Chin’toka’s Brew Continnuum. Can I interest you in some of our unique signature blends of coffee? Or tea? Or perhaps a Captain Twibble plushie? The grin that sprang to Sal’s face wasn’t just any grin. It was coupled with recognition. He knew the barista, and he was quite delighted by who he found behind that bar. Taybrim: Cadfael Peters! Moonlighting as a barista? You look fantastic! ::He sidled up to the coffee bar.:: It is good to see you Cadfael. ::he greeted the man with warmth and joy.:: Wait...Cadfael Peters? She knew that name! He had sent a gift to Sal for his promotion. Oh ho ho! Now she had a face to put with the name. Of course, she could have simply looked him up, but she’d been so consumed with planning everything, by the time everything was said and done, she had just forgotten. Well now. But the man didn’t keep her attention for long. Oh no. Something else caught hat. Something small. Something cute. Something furry. Captain Twibble. It was a plushie. Not just any plushy, but a fluffy, chubby stuff Caitian captain. Oh...oh it was too much. Too adorable. Alora almost couldn’t stand it! Peters: Long time no see indeed, Captain Nugra. It has been interesting. Gold’s a nice color, but don’t get me wrong, the Akira class handles beautifully outside of simulation. :: Turning his attention to Sal. :: Congrats on your promotion, commodore. Taybrim: Thank you. :: he smiled gently to Cadfael :: Some days I hardly believe it myself. Mei’konda: The Par’tha Expanse may be at the extreme edges of Staarbase 118’s area of authoriity, but we’ll be happy to haave it to return to when the Chin’toka next returrns to Federation space, Commodore. Serala: Hello Mister Peters. Minding the store for Doctor Skyfire? There was a new voice added to the cluster of tones that ebbed and flowed in conversation. A Romulan. Not just any Romulan, but a first officer in Starfleet. Serala. Peters: Taking a shift here and there while the happy couple prepare for the upcoming wedding. In a sense, it’s like a warp core with many moving pieces. Serala: That’s very kind of you. I will have my customary aesohll with a twist of lemon please. Hot. Peters: Coming right up, commander. Now that she had placed her order, the second in command turned to those assembled and greeted them as a whole. Serala: Jolan’tru everyone :: to Mei’konda :: For those of you whom I have never met, I am Commander Serala. First Officer of this ship and welcome. It is a great honor to have you all with us. May I join you all? Alora barely realised that someone had approached. Not only approached, but had actually greeted them. Almost automatically, she responded to it with- DeVeau: Jolan’tru. She got the accent right and everything - Alora had been practising! Despite that acknowledgement, however, she was still distracted by someone else . A new love. Her arms ached to hold him. To squeeze him. To cuddle him. Oh Captain Twibble… And generally, she would have said ‘yes, please come join us! The more the merrier! Let’s chat!’, but she had eyes only for one person...er...plushie... at that moment. Mei’konda: Good to see you, Commander. Nugra: It is interesting to meet you, Commander Serala. Jolan'tru. DeVeau: response Peters: response Taybrim: I would love to hear more, please join! But it seemed that Cadfael Peters had the attention of someone else, not just Sal. Serala ,the first officer of the Chin’toka, approached and immediately inquired of the would-be barista. Serala: Well, I am glad you all could make it out to our corner of the galaxy. And I know Commander Rosek will be grateful to see all of you. Taybrim: I am very excited to cheer on the bride and groom. ::he grinned:: I could not be happier than to see my brother find such a fantastic soulmate. It was like magic, it really was. Or maybe she was telepathic. Or, perhaps, Lael had bugged the coffee shop so she could enter at *just* the right moment. Whatever the reason, those doors parted and she stepped inside. Alora, however, was still extremely, extremely distracted. She had found a new love. Rosek: Good evening, everyone. :: She immediately turned towards Nugra. :: It’s so good to see you. I don’t think we’ve been in the same room since the Victory. How’ve you been? Nugra: You are correct. It is very good to see you again. It has been quite awhile. Mei’konda: Good evening, Lael. Thaank you for escortiing your old crewmates here. It was all sort of fading in the background. The voices blended together, but that sight remained her focus. Alora’s face lit up with another smile, and while it might not have been proper, Alora gently grabbed Mei’s arm to draw him closer to the bar. The barista smiled at them. Peters: That name sounds familiar… Are we talking about the same Alora DeVeau who liaised gifts for Sal’s promotion party? Now that someone was speaking *directly* to her, Alora tore her eyes away from that which had stolen her heart. Her smile remaind and she nodded. DeVeau: That would indeed be me. Mei’konda: Response Peters: Ah! A face to match a name! It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Alora. Then Peters did something that no one had ever done before - he took her hand and kissed it like gentlemen of old. She couldn’t help it. She laughed. It wasn’t one of derision, but more of delight. A simple thing, old fashioned, but quite charming. DeVeau: Well now, this is quite the introduction. I’m so glad to be able to put a face to the name. You have, however, cast my attention upon someone else. Oh please, may I have a closer look at Captain Twibble? Her hands itched to take a hold of it, to stroke the soft head, to poke the red clad tummy. Mei’konda/Peters: Response Alora accepted the toy with great glee and she turned it every which way around, gave it a hug, just to see how huggable it really was. He was super huggable. The [...] fur was oh so soft, and he just the right amount of squish, enough squeeze oh so pleasantly, but not so much that there wasn’t that despireable depth and robustness to him. She loved him. Absolutely adored him. Alora vowed then and there that she would make one hers, all hers! Ater a moment, she released the plush from her death grip to hold him up. DeVeau: This...this is wonderful! I love him! I must have him! Mei’konda/Peters: Response Of course, there was one thing she wondered. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, so Alora leaned upon the bar, holding said plushie so that it was ‘looking’ at Cadfael. DeVeau: Does his fur come in any other colours? Specifically… At this moment, Alora lifted her free hand and pointed at Mei’konda. DeVeau: The colour of his? Mei’konda/Peters: Response -- Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau First Officer Starbase 118 Ops alora@blar.net M239008AD0

Okay, I know this is only part 1 of a JP, but this thing had me rolling and in tears! I can't wait to read the next part. (Some censoring may occur) ((OOC: Takes place directly after T'Lea leaves the awards ceremony.)) ((Corridor - Deck 10)) The corridor felt longer than she remembered. Her steps were heavy, and every once in a while she reached to catch her balance against the wall. Walls were nice. They were solid and never moved. People were stupid. They always moved, she thought. T’Lea: Very untrustworthy in their ability to remain stable and stay in their designated place. She said out loud to a passerby as if accusing him of a crime. The crewman nodded, smiled and hurried along. The tipsy Romu-vulc carried on a few meters, and then she stopped. She frowned and glanced around as if she’d lost something important. T’Lea: Where the hell did they move the turbolift? Nobody was around to ask the burning question. Who had re-deck-orated? She laughed at the joke, and continued another yard or two before stopping again. She’d almost dropped her precious bottle of Romulan Ale. T’Lea: Frak. Just like John, always slipping out of my hands. Don’t worry. I’m not done with you yet. I’ll have you. Every last drop of you. ::at the bottle’s label-face:: Jerk. Unwilling to lose the last remnants of ale in a catastrophic case of fumble fingers, T’Lea improvised a hobo-bag out of Arys’s sweater to carry the candy box and bottle home. She slung the bag over her shoulder using the sleeves as a strap, and then continued on, proud of her ingenuity during such challenging times. Sival looked around at his crewmates feeling satisfied. He noted that he had interacted with his colleagues in meaningful ways, even beyond making small talk. Sival considered this to be a major personal accomplishment. Sival also had no problems regulating his emotions. Another success. And, of course, there was the food! It was another one of the ceremony’s awards. How incredibly fortunate he was to have been able to sample an exotic candy and genuine Romulan Ale! Yes, his performance had been satisfactory. He stood up a little taller and pulled down on his sweater, feeling proud of himself. While plucking an olive into his mouth, he heard a scuffle from the corner of the room. He turned around and witnessed Lt. Cmdr T’Lea walk with a bottle in her hands - that is, attempt to walk. As she moved, her body swayed a little too far to the left, then she would overcorrect by swaying a little too far to the right. At one point, she seemed to trip and nearly fall over. She continued like this right out of the room. oO Curious. Oo Sival was concerned, and although he would never admit it, also slightly amused. This was not the T’Lea he had come to know, the one who seemed confident and who could get things done… how did he put it?... yes, efficiently. She had such a strength of character despite her Vulcan heritage, it seemed to Sival. She had achieved something which had eluded Sival all his life. Alas, this was not that T’Lea. This T’Lea was in real danger of falling flat on her face. Sival did the calculations in his head, and he determined that there was 91.47% chance that or something similar would happen. He quickly made his way to the exit, hoping he would get to T’Lea in time so he could escort her to her quarters. He saw her with Arys’ sweater tossed over her shoulder, zig-zagging in a mostly forward direction. Sival: Commander T’Lea! She didn’t seem to have heard him, so he called again, this time loudly, just shy of shouting. Sival: T’Lea! A faint noise missed her perception. She reached back and scratched her neck. She saw the turbolift doors open at the end of the hall, and deposited a passenger onto the deck. T’Lea: Hey, hold the lift! She jogged to catch the car. The Andorian woman held open the doors and smirked at the strange bag slung over her shoulder. ((Turbolift)) Triumph! T’Lea had found where they’d moved the turbolift. T’Lea: Sneaky [...]s. Engineers always fixing things because it’s better and it’s not. Computer: Please state your destination. T’Lea: My place. Computer: Lieutenant Commander T’Lea identified. T’Lea: That’s right. Say my name, [...]. Smug with the idea of her galactic fame, T’Lea let the bag slip from her shoulder and leaned against the rail to rest, and for balance. The doors were about to close when a hand shot in, and then a body. It was none other than her Vulcan patriot, Sival. She lifted her eyes to greet him and nodded in a Vulcan fashion with respect. Sival: =/\= Deck 5 =/\= Commander, I called for you, but you did not respond. A tone signaled that the computer had acknowledged his request, and the turbolift began to move. Sival tilted his head and looked at T’Lea. He noticed she was leaning against the rail for support. Her posture seemed perfectly in between ‘about to fall down’ and ‘pulling herself up’. Sival wondered which would happen. It could go either way. T’Lea: I didn’t hear you. Sorry. Are you stalking me, or heading home? Because you’re looking at me like you want something. Sival opened his mouth to speak, then paused to consider just how to accuse his once commanding officer of being drunk. He continued. Sival: I only want to ensure that you are well enough to make it to your quarters. You appear to be quite inebriated. Are you feeling okay? T’Lea: I do not get drunk in front of Ensigns’s Ensign. As far as you are concerned I am emotionally relaxed and I am exploring alternative forms of logic. But thank you for asking. I am quite well. You? Sival was not familiar with this kind of logic. But, yes, he agreed that she did look relaxed. Sival: I am also quite well. T’Lea: Excellent. The lift spun-up and started to move to T’Lea’s destination first since it was closer. She shifted a little, grabbed the rail for a moment, and then shot Sival a grin. T’Lea: You know, you’re handsome for a half-breed. Sometimes those don’t turn out very well. Being called handsome and half-breed probably cancel each other out, but Sival appreciated her honesty. Sival: Fortunately for me, humans and Vulcans are generally compatible. Complications in offspring are rare. T’Lea: Considering that Romulans are descendants of Vulcans, I suppose that makes me more Vulcan than you. Although, you tend to act more Vulcan, I’ve noticed. Is that an ‘act’, or are you truly that disciplined? Sival looked away. That was indeed a good question. He often walked the line between putting up a front and being his genuine self. Sometimes he didn’t know which he was at a certain moment. He decided to let his guard down a bit and admit the contradiction. Sival: I am disciplined enough to perform the act. I generally suppress emotion whilst among others. T'Lea: Admit it, you like the squishy, sappy, feely feels too. You're part human, don't you find that annoying? She said with a mock pouty face, teasing him. Sival couldn’t resist widening his mouth just a bit. Only the most observant would recognize it as the beginnings of a smile. And even though she was intoxicated, he was quite certain T’Lea recognized it. Sival: Yes, I do admit that I value my emotions. If I am careful, they can be a source of strength. What about you? You’re part Romulan, don’t you find that annoying? She scoffed with a short lived moment of indignation. And then she forgot about it completely focusing on a more complicated thought – John and how stupid he was. T’Lea: Human emotions are so… idiotic and messy. They show you everything and tell you nothing. It’s like they’re afraid of their own frakkin’ feelings. How does one operate under those chaotic conditions? Take me for example, I like most of my feelings. I enjoy them and when I don’t I suppress them. If the situation dictates I must be professional and diplomatic, that is what I am. If the situation dictates that I must remove someone’s cranium, I do it. ::beat:: For the greater good of course. See? Not difficult. Not messy, well, except for the last one. ::finger wag::: But it’s all under perfect emotional control. Mostly. Sival found this to be an ideal philosophy. He was rarely able to summon the desired emotion for a situation on cue. He could either turn emotions on or turn emotions off. He had never been able to achieve this state. Sival: I can understand that, but ‘mostly perfect emotional control’ is not a logical concept. T’Lea: How dare you! ::calmer:: Unless you speak of yourself, in which case I agree. Humans are not logical. ::mellow shrug:: The Kir’Shara teaches us to master one’s emotions, not purge them. I bought fish to help with that. Would you like to see them? Sival nodded in agreement, both to humans being illogical and to the teachings of the Kir’Shara. But he was curious how fish fit into the picture. Sival: Sure, I would be interested to see fish that help one to master their emotions. ::with concern:: By the way, are you having trouble keeping your balance, Commander? Sival noticed T’Lea shift her weight from one foot to the other while she held onto the handrail for support. She struck a strict Vulcan posture that swayed ever so slightly like a proud mighty oak tree in a Hurricane. T’Lea: I am not that inebriated, Ensign. Let it go. oO Yes, you are… Oo Were a gentle breeze to come, she would be down. Speaking of balance, the turbolift had come to a stop, and it was still a question if T’Lea could walk unaided to her quarters. Seeing the difficulty she seemed to be having standing up while holding her things at the same time, Sival offered his arm for T’Lea to hold on. Sival: No, to exit the turbolift, we must go this way, Commander. T’Lea: Of course. Walls do not move. She accepted the gentlemanly gesture and took Sival’s strong arm, if only to smite John Kendrick, even though he wasn’t there to see it. TBC in Part 2 Lieutenant Commander T’Lea Chief Science Officer/ Second Officer USS Juneau Author ID I238301T10 & Ensign Sival Medical Officer USS Juneau, NX-99801 J239808S11

Okay, this whole tree thing just got very funny. Kudos to @Amuro McKnight and @Noa T'Nessa Levinson for that. 😂

"You have harmed the ones I care about. For that, I shall bring the Flames of Wrath upon you!"

The Chin'toka's theme this year is... Chin'toka: The Spookening, based on a popular card game. I confirm that we have followed the wiki uploading process exactly. We have: Properly named all avatar files and uploaded them to the wiki. Properly named our category on the wiki. Properly categorized our category on the wiki.

OMG! I died from laughter! 😂

Same sim from Kendrick's quote: Oh, I feel that pain! Serala doesn't much care for diplomatic missions either

Okay, @Arys had a great one-liner about our First Officer. Thought I would share. oO Was… that a joke?… This Vulcan is defective. Oo

Okay, I just couldn't resist. This was an absolutely delightful and funny introduction sim from our new Counselor! Great start! (( Lightside Station - Starlight Market )) Once Arys found herself on Lightside Station she couldn’t help but regret not being here for recreational purposes. She had visited the angry jellyfish that was Deep Space Nine and found some appreciation for the Cardassian aesthetic, but this was entirely different. There were large open spaces and botanical gardens, restaurants, gambling establishments, nightclubs, theatres.. a spa… There even was an authentic Irish Pub with real food. Should she not make it in Starfleet, she would settle down here. A small private practise close to one of the gardens. oO Great Arys, you haven’t even started Plan A and are already thinking about Plan B. How about you go and find your ship before plotting your exit strategy. And try not to get lost. Oo Arys hated to admit it, but there was a good chance she already was lost. She wandered through Starlight Market and every now and then forgot what she was looking for, and entered one of the shops instead. This time she found herself entering a softly lit establishment that smelled of foreign herbs and spices. At the back of the shop was a wooden counter where a small older woman smiled kindly at her. A cup of tea and half an hours worth of conversation later, Arys was directed to Deck 423 and made her way to where she hoped to find her new crew. oO I haven’t seen a single Starfleet Uniform so far, or I could just ask them.. with my luck this is the wrong Lightside Station. Or I got the wrong assignment. Or I missed them because I had tea… ::She rolled her eyes at her own thoughts:: Ooooor they are not in uniform. Since you’re not in uniform either. Now stop being a weirdo. oO She sighed and very subtly followed a brown haired human who looked like he was headed into the same direction. Surely enough, he eventually approached a large crowd gathering around a pavilion, and Arys watched him greet and smile at others before getting something to eat. Good strategy. oO Just smile and nod, I guess. These are a LOT of people.. I found seventy hard to deal with. How many people does the Juneau actually have on board? Five hundred? Seven hundred? Either way the number seemed a lot less intimidating when it had just been that - a number, and not all those new faces. Oo It was a bit of a relief when she noticed people smile and nod at her. Someone even offered a ‘great to see you again’. Which was amusing since she was pretty sure that she had never seen this person before, and she concluded that smiling, nodding, and blending in was an appropriate way of handling the situation. Deciding that her new life as a stalker wasn’t something she wanted to give up yet, she decided to approach the human she had been following as he introduced himself to a man and woman. Kendrick: My name is John by the way. John Kendrick. Qinn: response Falt: response Arys: I apologise for hijacking your introductions. My name is Arys, I’ve just been assigned to the Juneau, and I don’t know anyone here yet. ::She smiled a lot more confidently than she actually felt:: It is however very nice to meet you. Kendrick: response Qinn: response Falt: response Arys: I believe I am supposed to report to Lieutenant Commander T’Lea. Would you be able to point me into the right direction? Kendrick: response Qinn: response Falt: response ———————————— Ensign Trovek Arys Counsellor USS Juneau J239809TA4

This is a great job in summarizing the previous mission's events and bringing the Counselor up to speed. Very well done @Elizabeth Snow!

I mean, if the table fits...

Okay, I had a good laugh at this one. The Lieutenant can't hear the Seiuri's telepathic communication with Raga, so his responses to it are just hilarious! ((Chief of Security’s Office, Security Complex, Deck 11, USS Chin’toka)) {{Day 27 of shoreleave}} Sam made a quick stop by his new quarters to check them out and had arrangements made to have his stuff brought to them. He then proceeded to deck eleven to meet his new Chief, again avoiding stares as he went. He inquired a little about who it was from Commander Kiax and was a little intimidated when he found out his new superior was an Al-Leyan. He managed to somehow get in a bar fight with one on Risa. He couldn’t remember much from that night, just that he woke up in a lot of pain the next day and his mother had to fill him in on what had happened. He was lucky he survived the encounter. Hopefully this wasn't that man. What an awkward encounter that would be. He took a deep breath, stepped to the door, rang the chime, and waited. Raga: Enter. He stepped through the door, passing another officer who was making their way out. He noticed vibrant sapphire eyes staring at him as he made his way into the room. He wasn’t sure if he should offer a friendly smile at the raven haired Al-Leyan, so he just offered him the PADD. Neam: Lieutenant Sameh Neam reporting for duty, Sir. :: coming to an attention stance :: Raga: Cool winds be with you, Lieutenant. And at ease. ::He nodded:: Sam took a relaxed stance as instructed, folding his hands together behind his back. He relaxed inside a little as the emotions coming from the Commander were neutral and relaxed, but he sensed another set of emotions. They weren’t coming from the Commander. It was a sense of calm and curiosity, but who were they coming from? He looked around the office as the Al-Leyan looked over the PADD. It was decorated with Al-Leyan decorations and what appeared to be climbing gear. As he looked farther, his eyes then met a pair of eyes from something that was staring intently at him. It was sitting on top of a metal perch, a bird of some sort, and he suddenly found himself intimidated more by it than the man that stood before him. He wanted to look away, but couldn’t pull himself to do so, until the Commander spoke again. Sylara: ~ Another mind voice animal. Afraid of Sylara. ~ Raga: ~ Afraid huh? ~ Well, it looks like everything’s in order, Lieutenant. He turned his attention back to the Commander and smiled. Neam: Great, Sir. Quite the pet you have. The Seiuri let out a soft hoot. Raga: No, you can’t eat him. Eat him? That was a joke right? Starfleet wouldn’t allow such a thing on board if it went around eating people. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. The owl’s head tilted slightly and she let out a slightly louder hoot. Raga: Because. ::He said dryly:: You ate the last one. The color drained from Sam’s face. The emotions from the Commander were that of relaxed demeanor and those from the bird seemed to fit that she was indeed hungry. Neam: Umm.. Sir? The Seiuri stretched her wings slightly then began bobbing her head up and down a little. Raga: Just don’t make any sudden movements and you’ll be fine. Sylara there used to hunt targs back on the homeworld. Among other things. Sam held as still as possible, even though his body told him to run. He nearly had a heart attack when the door behind him opened. McKnight: Am I interrupting something, boss? Raga: Response Sam still held still as the other officer spoke to the Commander and he remained silent. His heart was racing as he was still unsure if the bird was going to make a meal of him or not. Perhaps he should have stayed on the Churchill, but then again how did he know that coming to the Chin’toka would result in him being eaten by a large bird. McKnight: Sorry for that then, this will be quick. I have something I need your approval of. He politely walked past Neam and handed his friend the PADD. McKnight: Per your approval. Raga: Response Sam wondered how the man just walked in so calmly. Maybe the bird liked him? Maybe he could win the bird over? But how? Raga / McKnight: Reponses Sam let out a sigh of relief and chuckled. Neam: That was a good one, Sir. Your friend would certainly come in handy in scaring an enemy. That’s for sure. Raga / McKnight: Responses Neam: Lieutenant Sameh Neam. Nice to meet you, Lieutenant McKnight. Raga / McKnight: Responses ============ PNPC Lieutenant Sameh Neam Security / Tactical Officer As Simmed By Lieutenant Elizabeth Snow Chief Medical Officer USS Chin'toka NCC-97187 D238803EH0

Our poor First Officer has tried this log entry multiple times now, with growing frustration, which sets up this selection. I had a good guffaw when I read it.

Oh wow. That was gripping and powerful. Very well written by the writers. And that ending!

Congratulation and welcome to the fleet and to the Juneau! Looking forward to working with you!

This was a nugget! I almost missed it during the first read through, but this really cracked me up! Our newest Ensign is meeting the First Officer along with a couple of other new officers who are transferring in.

Wow, that was awesome! Great writing and so clever.

Once again, Sil beat me to this. 😄 Great writing here! And yeah - no relation to Hamsan Dwich. 😄