Karrod Niac
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Posts posted by Karrod Niac
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I have the rare pleasure of writing a guest character during the Resolutions current mission and I am continually impressed with the incredible quality and rich humor of the prose from the whole crew. @Yalu has already done some fantastic work exploring this new alien race and his place within it and I can't wait to see more as the mission continues on. Well done!
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Exploring the relationships that define a character are some of the most difficult sims to do well but Lieutenant @Alieth & Ensign Saja Jehe make this heartfelt and poignant moment between two characters come alive. From the characterizations to the small details in their signatures, this little window on the private lives of those lovably logical Vulcans is a real delight.
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[[Flat complex 26, first floor, Chi-ree, Xial, Vulcan]]
Alieth stared at the door for a while, so long that she could have melted it simply with the sheer power of her anger. Or so she would have liked. She clenched her fists at her sides, clenched her jaw and made up her mind.
Three determined steps allowed her to cross the tiny room until she reached the window. She deftly opened it without a single sound, with the efficiency of habit, and let the night air into the room. It brought the scent of rain and the small flowers that festooned the small garden at the entrance to the building.
The tiny vulcan bent down and took off her shoes and, with great care, swung one leg over the window sill. She groped her bare foot along the roof tiles, until she found the broken one and dodged it, leaning her weight on the one next to it. Only then did she pushed herself up with a little hop and leapt out of the window.
With her arms spread out at her sides, she strode quietly along the small roof until she reached the corner of the building. The bulk of the building blocked out the light of the city behind her and allowed a view of the night sky over the desert, studded with stars.
She sat there, letting her legs dangle over the edge of the roof. If she chose to, she could reach the ground and leave that place. It was barely a jump of four or five metres. Besides, she'd done it so many times, she knew she could do it without any real trouble. In fact, it was more than likely that the boots she kept hidden nearby were still in place. She could call for transport to the Thor and the next day...
Saros: I see some things never change, ko-fu.
The voice was - unsurprisingly - calm, and came from around the corner of the building, an older Vulcan male stepping out along the same roof that wrapped around their flat. He stood with utter disregard for the height, and semi-precarious nature of their vantage point, and as unsurprising as his calm, in his hands he cradled a cup of warm tea.
Alieth: Sa-mekh….
Saros: I sense you are troubled, ko-fu. There are many pressures on you, even here, even now. Especially now, no?
He did not smile, of course. And yet, something in the tone, calm and measured, was designed to set her at ease. The effectiveness of that, however, was debatable.
Alieth: Mother's fixation on pointing out the wrongdoings she perceives in my former actions do not help.
Saros: I would say simply that this is unfortunate. ::With care, he settled down next to her, allowing his own feet to hang off the edge.:: And your journey to meet with our pid-kom?
The young woman averted her eyes from the sky and glanced to the left, where the hills met the desert, there where the old manor houses stood, around the original oasis on which the city had been founded.
Alieth: Tomorrow…
Saros: So soon.
She nodded lightly.
Alieth: It is better to deal with this as soon as possible, Sern's katra is very weak at this moment but nonetheless it is having an impact on his vessel. If I cannot get some help for them soon...
Saros: Then there is risk to both Sern’s katra, and the man within whom the spirit dwells. Measured speed in this case is only logical.
Alieth: Indeed.
She looked away and turned to look at her father, his serene face more aged than the last time she had been home. The silence hung in the air for a while, full of unspoken things.
Alieth: How has all this been for you? Since the wedding, since... since Sern died.
For a long moment, the older Vulcan did not speak. His lips pursed slightly, as if he was carefully considering his words.
Saros: It has not been without difficulties, though life is rarely so kind as to be completely calm, no matter how much we may...wish it. ::There was not a smile, but a crinkling around the eyes that gave the impression there in.:: We as a people are fond of saying ‘it is agreeable to see you again’. But in honesty, it is a relief to see you again. It is regrettable that the circumstances are as dire as they are.
The frown that had been on Alieth's face visibly relaxed and her stern countenance somehow became more peaceful.
Alieth: Your absence from my life has been regrettable.
The young woman leaned to the side, and laid her head on her father's shoulder.
Alieth: Even if you still refuse to share your tea...
Saros: I am old, child, not senile. ::He sipped the tea, slowly, arching an eyebrow as he did.::
They stayed there for a while, as the night grew darker and the stars brighter and somewhere in the mountains a Sehlat roared in defiance. Behind them, inside the house, their own pet Sehlat growled gravely, evidently insulted.
Alieth: I will endeavour to settle matters with Mother, if I can manage to get all this fixed. But I need the pid-kom's authorization to approach a suitable Healer, if I can get her consent.
Saros: Settling matters will be...what is the humans are fond of saying? A...two way street. You are not the only one that must make the effort. Regardless...
Pausing to sip from his tea, Alieth’s father took a moment to let those words settle in before pressing forward to the other, somewhat more time sensitive matter before the pair.
Saros: Would it not simply be more efficient to ask pid-kom to perform the fal-tor-plak? She is not without some small talent in the matters herself.
There was the slightest twitch at the corners of Saros’ mouth, as his ever present penchant for understatement once again shown forth.
Alieth: I suspect that if pid-kom were the one to pull his katra out of the Commander's brain, he would be permanently impaired. Humans are so fragile....
One greying eyebrow rose slightly on the old man's forehead.
Saros: I begin to see wisdom beyond your years, ko-fu. ::He sipped the tea, savoring the flavor as he turned his gaze to the garden below.:: but your Commander has managed thus far. He is perhaps sturdier than one might expect.
Alieth:I have asked Meimei to assist me, as she has experience in dealing with Clan leaders as well as her training as a counsellor can be beneficial in her capacity as an advisor.
Saros: An interesting choice, ko-fu.I am sure that she will only be an asset. How has she fared of late? I sense that you may know more of her well being than myself.::His mastery of understatement persisted.::
The question made her reach a hand to her shoulder and rub gently at the body decoration she had acquired thanks to her krei's friends.
Alieth: She has been behaving herself pretty well since the brig and the tattoos.
Saros: ...One would think that I have seen enough years in this world to not be surprised by such words. I understand them, individually, and yet, taken on as a whole, I sit here, surprised. I am not so old that my hearing has failed me, yet comprehension is ....::He reached up, grasping with one hand at the empty air.:: Just out of reach.
She was careful to suppress the greenish tone that gradually crept up to her ears. For the most part.
Alieth: Sa-mekh, you really do not want to hear about my participation in that whole incident...
Saros: A first. You perhaps show more wisdom than I. And yet, as your Father, I have an obligation to tread where weaker men may fear. A brig? Tattoos? Enlighten me, ko-fu.
Alieth: It all began with a heated debate about the merits and innumerable flaws of a Klingon scientist's research project. Perhaps there was a certain degree of intoxication in the whole affair, as living with humans leads to the exposure of substances, harmless for them, that produce some unexpected effects on Vulcan physiology.
Saros: I dread to ask which sucrose laden confection you came into contact with. I take it that given the nature of such events, completely unexpected, of course, things deteriorated?
Alieth: At one point there might have been a few punches involved. However, as you can expect, I merely fought in self-defence.
Saros: But of course. Only in defense of yourself and others. ::A pause.:: I take it you won?
A mischievous sparkle glinted in the young doctor's eyes.
Alieth: Sa-mekh, let me question your senility if you are unaware of the answer to that query...
In the distance, a lone cry split the night once more, adding an ominous tone to the conversation, though Saros paid it no real head.
Saros: I suppose that is irrelevant. It does no harm to ask pid-kom to arrange access to a more specialized mind Healer to oversee the transfer of the katra. I do not foresee any great difficulty on that subject.
She winced a bit.
Alieth: Provided that she will not contemplate prosecution for the theft of her grandson's katra. Or that she refuses to let the Memorial Halls of the Clan be tarnished with traces of a human soul, or that even though everything unfolds under the most favourable conditions, it will be too late and some or neither of them could be saved.
She had many more reasons why everything could go horribly wrong, but something made her fall silent. Straightened up again, the brief moment of familiarity over, she looked at her father's face.
Saros: I did not say there would be no difficulties at all. ::He allowed a finger to unfurl from the earthenware mug, wagging ever so slightly.:: Much as come to pass since you last walked among these sands and warm winds, my child.
The young woman suppressed a snort, which didn't make any sound but made her nostrils twitch a bit.
Alieth: You always used to tell me that hardly anything changes on Vulcan.
Saros: This is true. And things have changed. In the grand scope of the History of Vulcan since the coming of Surak...both can be true at once. A fascinating mental exercise.
Again, that not quite smile graced his face, and his shoulders gave a shrug that would, to a non vulcan, be nigh on imperceptible.
Alieth: In this, you are correct. As you often do.
Saros: It is gratifying to hear you say that, ko-fu. Though I am far from…infallible. Something I might not have been aware of in my youth.
Alieth: Are you suggesting that I should exercise moderation, sa-mekh?
A mischievous sparkle flashed in the young woman's eyes, but she hid it swiftly, her gaze again on the distant horizon.
Alieth: Or are you just about to regale me with a tale of your youth, old man? You know I have always cherished those.
Alieth was well aware that Saros could not exactly be labelled an old man. Though he had surpassed a hundred years of age during Alieth's childhood, he could hardly be considered middle-aged by the standards of their kind. Nevertheless, she would honour the new silver in his hair.
Saros: Perhaps I spoke too soon about the wisdom you have gained, my child. ::The eyebrow twitched up ever so slightly.:: The escapades of my own irascible youth might give you some insight, however. Very well.
At that the older - if hardly elder - Vulcan squared his shoulders, pulling in upon himself the look of someone searching through memories.
Saros: Let us ruminate upon the merits of friendship and loyalty then, in the face of clan doctrion...
The night grew darker, and the stars lighter, until the first rays of dawn forced them back to the reality of the coming day's events.
[[THE END]]
OOC:
sa-mekh → father
ko-fu → daughter
pid-kom → Matriarch, Female that leads a Clan
fal-tor-plak → ritual transfer of a katra from one keeper to another, or a katric ark
krei → cousin- female, a female relative descended from siblings of parents or earlier line of descent
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=== Saros of Chi-Ree
Chi-Ree Regional Tea Master
Father
T239712JS0
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=== &
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=== Alieth daughter of Saros
Chief Medical Officer
Wild Child
E239702A10
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Our normally reserved Ensign Peri Katsim may not say much, but she certainly expresses herself through some inner dialogue that's very well used in the scene. It's a dynamic moment but we still get an insight into what the character really thinks! Thanks for taking the leap!
Great job @Alora DeVeau
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((Yacht Outside 99th Floor Domicile Administrative Center, SalCorp Cohousing Unit 34556))
Alieth: Peri, what were you thinking, you almost…
What was she thinking? Shock registered over the young woman’s face. What else should she have done? How could the doctor ask such a thing? Peri didn’t have time for a reply, for Teller was too busy hurling insults at her friend.
Teller: You crazy green blooded hob...
Nozku: No time! I've got control, we need to go. Now!
It was only because the others grabbed on to something that Peri did the same, though perhaps a second behind them. Because it was enough of a delay, she managed to go tumbling to the floor of the vessel as it suddenly lurched away from the gangplank and into the air, and barely managed to get a grip on the side of the vehicle as the Zet suddenly manoeuvred into to a downward angle, plunging straight for the ground that lay far, far beneath them. If the wind had been noisy and annoying before, it had become downright abusive as they sliced through the air in their kamikaze dip. Clinging to the ship as best she could, Peri’s eyes shut tightly, then opened, only to see a vague sense of a reflection in the blurred maze of windows that sped by them.
Quen: Up ahead, ten- ::There was the briefest of pauses before she finished::-Against the building!
Peri didn’t want to look, but there was something about resisting a call to do just that. Moving her gaze upward, she caught sight of yet another craft, one far more slick and lean. It was was the sort of craft designed for speed - and theirs? Theirs was not. Another lurch off to the side almost sent Peri reeling, but she managed to keep a tenuous hold, if barely.
Alieth: Geoff, make this thing speed up a bit more because we are being followed closely.
Teller: Aye aye ma'am, but it looks like Nenni already has us way the safety zones. If I'm reading this right we've...::Geoff squinted at the display then shook his head:: ....voided the warranty.
Nozku: This thing isn't a racer, its made for lazy trips around the lake! How far away are they
Not far. Not far at all. Lazy trips around the lake, well this wasn’t one of those. That would have been a much nicer way to spend their day, but alas, that was not what the Prophets had in store for them. A sudden tremor almost shook Peri’s grip and once more she tightened her hold.
Alieth: Close, VERY CLOSE.
Suddenly, they changed direction. Peri’s stomach, which had decided to climb up into her throat with the dive, suddenly found it self thrust into the bottom of her feet as Nokzu managed to completely, totally, utterly change direction. The Bajcardy attempted to keep the contents of said stomach inside where they belonged rather than subjecting her fellow crew members to more misery than they already were.
Nokzu: Hang on tight!
Weren’t they already doing that? Peri was desperately trying to do so and finding herself on the cusp of losing her hold only to re-establish it just before another swerve or jerk managed to wrench it off. As she pressed against one side of the boat, a flash of colour sped by on the other side, then another appeared above her briefly. Once more, they changed, down was first, then up, suddenly they were going down again, as if on some crazy, jerky, railless roller coaster ride. Peri, for one, wanted to get off.
Teller:...level...off...have to...contact ship...
Katsim: How?
The soft voice was no match for the wind that cut off the sound before it could reach the others. There was another sudden shift, tossing the passengers again off to the side. Peri’s face banged against the railing to which she clung, sending a stream of lights before her eyes for a brief moment.
Alieth: Alive, but I have a few tips for our driver
Nozku: If you'd rather the next shot take out our thrusters, I can smooth out the ride for you!
That would be wonderful, but a rather difficult request considering they were currently in the middle of a chase scene. Keeping her tight hold upon the ship, Peri attempted to twist in order to get a better look at those chasing them, the up and down making her stomach flip and flop way too much for comfort. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Teller’s attempt to get the combadge to work. Even over the whistling of the wind, she caught the faintest sound of a chirp. Wait...did that mean it was working?
Teller: =/\= Teller to Thor, Teller to Thor, Priority One Emergency! =/\=
The communicator made a sound that sounded very much like a child sticking out a tongue and blowing a raspberry. Hope which had sprung up within the young scientist dimmed. Tellers expression was thoughtful. Suddenly, it was more than just thoughtful. Peri wasn’t sure she wanted to know what was going through his mind.
Quen: Are there seatbelts on this thiiiiiing?!
That would be far too easy, wouldn’t it? So much for convenience. As Nozku swung the yacht to the other side, Peri found herself thrown once more against the edge, her back taking the abuse this time as she was shoved against a pile of lashing and the hook upon which it was wound and, after barely hanging on to its own tentative place, suddenly came on wound and began whipping about with each jarring movement. Gritting her teeth, she could physically feel the strain of the vessel beneath them.
Nokzu: We need a way to lose our friends back there, and we need to do it fast!
There was a smile on Teller’s face. Why was there a smile on Teller’s face?
Peri didn’t know the man very well. Having arrived on the ship only a few months prior, the two had interacted a handful of times. In general, he seemed like a sweet, pleasant fellow. However, she had certainly heard quite a few stories involving him. Him and destruction. Explosions. Chaos.
Peri didn’t like the smile on Teller’s face.
Teller: Like you said Nenni, we're not going to outrun them in this thing. That's why we're going to jump.
Oh Prophts, preserve them!
Teller: We set this thing on autopilot and jump when we're behind one of those buildings - they'll never see us. Transporter can get us on the way down. No problem.
Immediately, enthusiastically, unequivocally, Peri shook her head. No! No way! Nuh uh! No how!
Alieth: Response
Quen: That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard!
In that, she and Quen were in agreement. Silently, Peri wondered if maybe Teller needed a psychological evaluation.
Nokzu: Are you crazy!? We'd never survive something like that!
Something bright flashed behind them, sending the little airship shivering. Peri shivered with it.
Teller: Sorry Nenni, but you're going to have to trust us on this one. It's this, or end up back in Anroc's hands. Frankly, I'd rather take my chances. If anybody feels differently, say so now.
Trust us? When did this become an us? This was allllll Teller. Sighing, Peri peered over at the first officer. She supposed it probably wouldn’t do not to trust him. But she really didn’t feel like she wanted to plunge to her death.
Quen/Alieth/Nozku: Response
Teller: Ok fine, if we all die you get to say you told me so. Nenni, can you jam the controls, make sure the yacht keeps going after we jump?
Nozku: Response
Teller: Well, I don't think we should leave without expressing our gratitude to President Anroc. ::Geoff's smile turned a bit wicked:: See that big statue over there?
Dark eyes followed where Teller pointed and upon the statue he indicated. What did the statue have to do with...wait. Oh no. He was just going to make this worse, wasn’t he?
Nozku: Response
Teller winked at them, as if they were all in on this little conspiracy. It was only made worse when Nozku returned the wink with a multiplicitous one of her own.
Teller: When we jump, try to stay close together. Start calling for transport as soon as you're clear of the dampening effect.
Quen/Alieth/Nozku: Response
Katsim: Are...are you sure this is going to work?
Peri tried desperately to be heard above the continuous muted roar of the wind. Another slice of light zipped past them, barely missing them. Shivering, Peri craned her neck back up. Those ships were closing in.
Alieth/Nozku/Quen/Teller: Response
Katsim: Sure there’s something else we can do?
Alieth/Nozku/Quen/Teller: Response
No. Peri didn’t have any other ideas. The other ships were getting closer, and their particular vehicle was getting closer to the statue. They didn’t have much time.
Alieth/Nozku/Quen/Teller: Response
Katsim: Sir, I officially go on record that I don’t like this plan.
But what was she going to do? There wasn’t any time to think before the Zet, Teller, and Quen suddenly launched themselves off the ship. Alieth was climbing over the edge and Peri was attempting to do so as well. By the time Peri managed to get one leg over the side, all the others were gone. The ship was headed on a collision course with the statue and her crew members were sailing through the air. Glancing up, she saw the ships making a beeline straight for that little yacht that had so valiantly carried them as best it could away from harm. Tremulously, she managed to get the other leg over the edge and, taking a deep breath, Peri closed her eyes, then jumped.
Alieth/Nozku/Quen/Teller: Response
It was a strange sensation, the wind pressing against her as she pushed downward. On one hand, it was almost as if it were trying to lift her up rather than let her fall, but gravity was a stronger force and it would not be denied. As much as that wind tried, it was no match for the greater power that exerted its strength.
Slowly, Peri squinted her eyes open and almost wished she hadn’t. Below, a quilted puzzle stretched out, and she was so high she couldn’t even make out the bodies of individual Zets beneath. Was she far enough away yet? Would the communicator work now?
Allowing her eyes to close once more, Peri managed to force her arm to tap the combadge. There was chirp, but it was followed by a resounding ‘blat’ of failure Not far enough. Slowly, she forced her eyes open. The ground was closer and inching more so every second. Silently, she counted to thirty, trying not to let the welling of panic overwhelming her. Another tap. Another failure.
Tears stung her eyes, though it was difficult to say if it was from fear or the rush of wind beating at them. Peri closed her eyes, counted to thirty again and tapped. Nothing. She set into a pattern, count, tap, count, tap. Closer and closer the ground rose up to meet her. Finally, a chirp, a secondary one. Success!
Katsim: =/\=Katsim to Thor….Get me out of here!=/\=
Alieth/Nozku/Quen/Teller: Response
Thor: ?
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Ensign Katsim Peri
Science Officer
USS Thor
M239008AD0-
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I really enjoy this sim and I think it beautifully demonstrates that in our world, there are no 'small' characters. NPC's like this are not meant for everyday simming, but they add a wonderful depth and texture to life aboard ship when used delicately. @Alieth has a sly, warm humor that makes her characterizations wonderfully engaging and I'm glad to see this small moment featured here. Cause Cheesecake is a good dog.
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4 minutes ago, Alora DeVeau said:
There are no gigantic explosions,
I'll try not to hold that against the good counselor
It's a fantastic sim and I'm once again reminded of just how many talented people I'm fortunate to write with. Great job @Alex Brodie!
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Welcome to the fleet @Dekas!
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You beat me to it! I wanted to feature this sim because I think it's a great example of 'how to get started,' which I know can be daunting for all of us. Wes does a great job of performing the most critical part of being a team leader in a new scene - providing rich, useful context that his colleagues can build on to carry the narrative forward. Taking cues from the whole of the mission so far and contextual information in our Act 2 starter, Wes has articulated his take on this new setting very clearly. Within the space of a few lines in a log entry and some dialogue on the ground, he has fully invoked 'place,' he has established a framework for interaction and he has tee'd up his teammates and our antagonist NPC ideally for the Thor's next act. Great job @Wes Greaves!
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Welcome to the fleet @tahna.meru!
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This sim is great on its own merits, but the fact that @Tony, aka Kells & @Alex Brodie explored these difficult topics in the midst of a tremendous amount of real world stress makes it especially personal and touching to me. Bravo to you both.
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Welcome aboard!
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Really fantastic work on this one, especially from our newest member Ens. Jehe Saja. Excited to see your name already showing up over here in Appreciations, I'm certain it won't be the last time!
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OOC: I've really enjoyed exploring the line between the serious side of Teller's character against his more jokey nature, and Alieth has been an absolute pleasure to write with. It's also allowed me to revisit some of Teller's early antics and the impact other officers have had on him. Been a real pleasure - thanks @Alieth!
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((XO's office, Deck 1, USS Thor))
Alieth: Sir... I am truly sorry for what happened. And I will strive not to disgrace this uniform again... nor the ideas and people it represents.
Commander teller nodded gravely,the brief smile that had brightened up his features, gone.
Teller: See that you don't, Lieutenant. I'm a firm believer in second chances. Not third chances. Understood?
Geoff's voice was sharp and clear. There was no hostility or malice in it, but the note of warning was obvious. The young Vulcan didn't need any repetition of the query and answered promptly.
Alieth: Yes, sir, I do.
Then, Teller stood, and the awareness of danger which even the firmest instruction in the Logic had failed to eradicate suddenly became activated in her mind. She frowned faintly, dreading what would come next.
Teller: Oh there's one other thing - mentioned in the report. The tattoo. Lets see it.
The Vulcan's face became suddenly pale and then shifted to a bright green
Alieth: Sir... ::the human remained unruffled:: ...Mister Teller… ::She swallowed before appealing to her last resort::Geoffrey John, I… I doubt that will be necessary.
Her attempt failed disastrously.
Teller: "Starfleet uniform code regulation 231, Paragraph J, Subsection 3 - Should any active duty personnel receive cosmetic body modifications without first seeking authorization from their commanding officer, said personnel must submit to a command inspection of same prior to returning to duty to verify it poses no impediment or hazard to the performance of said duties." If you prefer, I could ask Fleet Captain Kells to come by and take care of it.
After she had ensnared the Captain in a trap during their last mission the last thing she needed to make a 'perfect' impression was him discovering... THAT.
Alieth: No-no sir, that will not be necessary.
She pouted before the diabolical usage of regulation against her. Despite this, she took off her jacket and pulled back the sleeve of her shirt until her left shoulder blade became visible.
As the commander's eyes settled on the sharp Klingon letters, he laughed, and she turned even greener.
Teller: No impediment or hazard here, I think. If anything, it might serve as a good warning label. As you were, Lieutenant.
She opened her mouth. She closed it. She opened it again, her face even greener as before, and finally decided that silence was a valid retort to that outrageous comment, as she threw the uniform jacket over her shoulders once more.
As Alieth made a hasty retreat for the office door, Geoff rolled up the left sleeve of his uniform jacket. , The movement halted her flight and she turned around slightly just to see how Geoff pulled his sleeve all the way up and exposed his left bicep.
Teller: We all make mistakes, Lieutenant. For example, this tattoo?
The Vulcan's eyes locked on .... THAT. For an instant they wandered up to the face of the First Officer, disbelief percolating through the cracks in her broken dignity, but they hopelessly returned to focus on the voluptuous depiction of a dark-skinned woman on top of a Veritas Class in the First Officer's ashy arm.
Alieth: Sir?!?!?!?!? How?!?!?! WHEN?!?!?!?! Why I did not know .... !?!?! ::The questions piled up on the tip of Alieth's tongue until she was finally able to summarize them into one:: WHY?!
Teller: Well, in the original version, Captain Rahman wasn't...::Geoff coughed, momentarily embarrassed::...in uniform. This lead to some...serious professional awkwardness. If Lt. Jg. Teller can learn from that, you can learn from this. ::Geoff wiggled his bicep and the stylized starship and it's equally stylized Captain seemed to ride an invisible wave.::
The Vulcan's eyes remained firmly anchored to the rolling tattoo for two endless minutes before she regained her ability to speak.
Alieth: Yes sir, I will sir.
Geoff rolled his sleeve back down, which broke the spell that had petrified the Vulcan doctor until that moment. While Teller headed back behind his desk, she had a few seconds to pull herself together.
Teller: That'll be all, Lieutenant.
Alieth: Yes, sir. :: She hesitated for a moment and finally (and with the tip of her ears still glowing green) she added:: Thank you, sir.
As the doors to his office slid closed Geoff shook his head and chuckled, rubbing his bicep wistfully. Captain Rahman had been right to make him keep it, as she had been about so many other things. Geoff smiled ruefully. oO Of course. Skipper's always right. Oo
As soon as she uttered those words, she left the room as fast as she could, ignoring the surprised glances of other crew members when she ran up against them.
On her way back to her quarters the only thing she could see in her mind eye was the disproportionately gifted figure of Captain Rahman on her First Officer's bicep. Her mind kept revolving around the question if whether she had previously had other incorrect attributes and her spot pattern had gone all the way down or...
That day, and many that followed, every time Alieth tried to meditate or sleep, all he could see was Geoff's white biceps and the little Kriosian that rode it. Each time, she opened her eyes with her ears irremediably dyed green.
End of the Scene
OOC: boQDu' -> She-devil in klingon=================================
Lt. JG Alieth
Medical Officer
USS Thor NCC-82607
E239702A10 Image Collective Co-Facilitator Trainee
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For all our advancements in technology and medicine, the loss of a friend is still keenly felt by all that knew and served with them. Here, Lt. Jg. Wilde beautifully commemorates the rich service of one such comfy colleague, speeding it upon it's way to Valhalla's basement rec-room.
Great job, @Regan Wilde! Funny and touching in equal measure.
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((OOC : You wanted a sofa funeral, you've got a sofa funeral...))
((USS Arrow - Deck 3; Main Engineering))
{{One Week into Shore Leave}}
It was a truly sombre affair. A lot of the battle-damaged consoles hadn’t been fully repaired yet so the whole engineering section had been decorated with black drapes, and the central area held an old fashioned easel which held a large and audacious painting of the Engineering Sofa. The painter, who wished to remain anonymous, obviously had trained in the Romantic school of impressionism, because the painting looked far better than the actual sofa ever did.
The sofa had been a devastating casualty in what most of the crew were calling - rather too excitedly - the ‘Battle for Main Engineering’ in the midst of the pirate boarding. The sofa had been used as a makeshift barricade, hidden behind as a shield, hit with many disruptor bolts, been split in two by an exploding duranium engineering door, flattened by the aforementioned door, caught fire from the molten metal on the aforementioned door, and phasered into oblivion.
In the centre of the room was a sleek cherry wood podium which on top housed a small, silver urn. The remains of the sofa; well, what was left of the remains, had been ceremonially cremated (if you could actually cremate anything which was already 70% ash and the rest a gloopy mess of fire extinguisher foam and springs), and placed in the urn.
Regan stood in front of the warp core, his finest dress uniform complete with black armband cascading the brilliant lights of the warp core against him. He wore a large black pair of dark sunglasses, his hair coiffed expertly. His new synthetic now in place and working, Regan was now back at his best.
Beside him Chief Thaon Brom wore a traditional Scottish kilt, complete with sporran, socks, hat, the works. Odd, considering he was a Tellarite and not remotely Scottish in the slightest. Brom solemnly played the bagpipes as the rest of the guests milled into engineering. Regan was going to ask where he got the bagpipes from but was, quite truthfully, scared of the answer.
As the guests entered they shook hands with, or kissed the cheek of Lieutenant Keneth Nakada, who had taken to his role as the grieving widower with aplomb. The sofa had been one of his work colleagues, and in the latter days, closest confidants and companions.
Wilde: Dearest crew of the Federation starship Arrow, thank you for coming. My name is Lieutenant Regan Wilde and I’ll be your Master of Ceremonies for today's event. I’d like to start today's proceedings by saying how sorry I am for engineering’s loss of a fine and dedicated piece of furniture. Particularly to Lieutenant Keneth Nakada whom I believe spent more time sleeping on it than he did in his own bed. We mourn and cherish the service the sofa provided to everyone on board. For she was not just a piece of furniture to some. To me she was an eyesore, but I digress. To engineering she was a comrade, not a tool. She offered comfort, protection and relaxation. She even had a little drinks holder in the armrests. The left hand seat reclined out with a footrest, and was covered expertly in fine corinthian leather. Scholars say that in her day she retailed at the princely sum of $699.99, which I’m led to believe was and I quote ::Consulting his PADD.:: ‘Top quality at a bargain price’. ::Beat:: Such a loss.
We enter the service of Starfleet in order to better ourselves, to improve humanity's understanding of the universe; and in working with, living with, and indeed loving other species we forge a better, peaceful universe in which we live. Starfleet doesn’t, however, teach you how to live without superior upholstered furniture in your life in circumstances such as these. This sofa seems irreplaceable to the needs of the crew. Indeed, that particular brand of sofa hasn’t been manufactured in this quadrant for at least three hundred and fifty years and I beg Keneth never reveals to me from which space dump he stole it from. Some things must forever remain a mystery.
We gather today to pay our respects, to mourn, to comfort each other the only way we can, and to begin a healing process. In my writing of this eulogy I searched through many counselling texts, none of which had any significant information whatsoever to prepare me for the insanity and downright ridiculousness of today. However, I’m grateful that Counselor R’Ariel is around, should anyone need any further assistance.
Ladies, gentlemen, honoured androgynous and non-gendered species, I ask you to raise your glasses to ::Checks his PADD, then snickers a little.:: Really? ::Regaining composure:: To Sofia Davenport, the engineering sofa. Who bravely and valiantly gave her springs, so that the ship can live on.
Anyone: Responses
Wilde: I believe Sofia is survived by a number of scatter cushions, and a manky old throw which was so old and threadbare we cremated that too. We hereby commit Sofia’s remains to the galaxy. Ashes to ashes, stuffing to stuffing. Fly high amongst the stars, Sofia. See you… somewhere out there.
Anyone: Responses
Wilde: Would anyone like to say a few words before we beam the urn into space?
Anyone: Responses
TAG!
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Lieutenant(jg) Regan WildeSecurityUSS ArrowC237708DW0-
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@Wes Greaves - you continue to paint a vivid and engaging picture of Marine life in Starfleet, and it's details like an amusing running cadence that bring such rich depth to Marine culture. Well done!
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Quote
Peri froze. The sound coming from the mouth of the second in command of the Thor was nothing less than like a targ’s claws scraping against the side of a newly commissioned ship. Staring, her eyes got wide and she wondered how much she’d be able to take before her ears began to bleed.
Everyone's a critic
Great scene guys, I'm glad everyone is having as much fun with it as I am!
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- Popular Post
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As our community has evolved so to have the relationships between players across ships, and I've been delighted to watch the friendship evolve between these two writers both on the page and off. Oh, and speaking from my perspective aboard the Thor - Alieth's new bodyart is 100% accurate.
Great work! And now there's going to be so much groundskeeping.
Quote((Deep Space 224, at the deepest end of the darkest dungeon - brig))
It was an enlightening circumstance that her temples ached like that. It prevented efficient and linear thinking, but at least it was an indication, along with the retching of her stomach and the burning thirst in her throat, of what had happened. The tingling of the bruises and the throb under her eye could be explained, considering the choppy memories that flickered in her brain and that she was trying to piece together through confusing and murky loopholes.
Even so, there was one particular and VERY specific point that she was unable to explain. And since neither her senses nor her memory could make sense of this disturbing sensation, she willingly asked.
Alieth: Why is my shoulder sore?
A roaring belly laugh resounded from one of the cramped corners of the cell.
Hakoth: Don't you remember? Really?
The Vulcan blinked a couple of times, exhibiting a more than obvious confusion, but considerably more contained than the... exuberance she had flaunted hours earlier.
Alieth: No :: She paused for a second, bit her lower lip and carried on:: Do you want to elaborate on the matter?
Meidra: I was incorrect. Spending time at the Vulcan Science Academy campus was fun. ::turns to Hakoth:: you scream like a frightened songbird when kicked. It was most gratifying to hear.
Hakoth: Klingons do not scream. ::his companion snickered:: You did not fare any better, Agrohk. The little one kicked your face like it was a child’s toy.
Alieth blinked quickly again. So much so that the sudden movement made her slightly dizzy. Moderate neuralgia from intoxication and dehydration.Not for the first time since she had woken up, the young doctor wondered why she had done this to herself and how it was possible that her relative had dragged her (again) into that spiral of entropy.
The Vulcan pintched the bridge of her nose before she returned to her queries.
Alieth: So, that thing you two talked about happened... exactly how?
Sirin: You tried telling these…..scientists…..their research was not satisfactory. They did not take it well. ::looks at her arm:: did we get tattoos before or after we arrived here?
Yes, that seemed partly like something she would do, the little Vulcan thought with chagrin. oO Hold on... which tattoos!?!?!?! Oo
As she looked around and slowly began to put the pieces together in her mind, Alieth witnessed how the larger Klingon stared at his lower leg, shown by the ripped uniform. The beautiful Vulcan script tattooed there spelled out a phrase, but he didn’t quite understand what it said. Meidra smirked.
Sirin: Yours reads I was bested in combat by two little Vulcan females.
The counselor looked down at her forearm and frowned. It was in the Klingon language and she had to squint to remember how to read it.
Katoth: Your markings state that you are a drunken warrior - it’s quite the compliment.
In the light of day, Meidra could admit he was a bit handsome. She saluted him with a jaunty grin. Perhaps they could all get breakfast together later. Actual battle made her a bit restless the next day.
Sirin: ::yawning:: You should see me fight when I’m sober. ::Turns to Alieth:: Krei, are you well?
Agrohk glanced at Alieth, who was studying her own new tattoo.
Agrohk : Yours translates into she devil
The tip of the Vulcan's ears quickly became green, despite all her efforts to conceal it.
Alieth: that is PREPOSTEROUS AND…
She did not finish verbalizing her remarkably rational counter-argument, as at that moment the corridor door hissed open, and they could hear some footsteps. Footsteps that half of the inmates knew just a little too well....
Meidra groaned, and it had nothing to do with her headache. No, this was more of a deep into her bones type of pain that could only mean one incredibly annoying person had been summoned.
The counselor rose to her feet and stretched, wincing as she felt the effects of chocolate and liquor churning through her bloodstream. She vaguely remembered calling someone with her comm badge but could not remember who she’d tried contacting. She knew it hadn’t been the smugly furious First Officer in front of their cell. If Genkos had turned her in….wait...she’d called Genkos. She’d never be able to look him in the eyes again.
Having received word of the arrest of one of her officers for drunk and disorderly conduct, the Resolution’s first officer made it a point to go visit the prisoner in her new habitat. She was both surprised and taken aback to find an apparent co-conspirator imprisoned with her in the form of one of her former medical officers.
MacKenzie walked into the station’s brig, promising that she would stay calm. This was, after all, not only a time for discipline, but an opportunity for mentorship and… rehabilitation.
...then she spoke.
MacKenzie: What did you two fools do?
Sirin: Defended real science from Klingon simpletons.
Alieth: Have a vigorous debate about the benefits of a well-designed scientific research project with the required sources and methods. Moreover, Meimei was to blame.
The Vulcan tried to appear dignified, but failed miserably in her endeavour. Meidra swung around to glare at her cousin, which in hindsight, wasn’t too smart with a hangover. She raised an accusing finger as she tried to bring back her lost dignity.
Sirin: Who exactly dragged me to the Vulcan Science Academy campus when I was perfectly content to drink illegally made...I mean….culturally rare beverages?
Addison shot them both a look of daggers which could have pierced them deeply.
MacKenzie: Are you kidding?
Sirin: To be fair, I was fine until I ate the chocolates from that last shop. They may have still been moving.
Alieth pulled off some cleverness from an undamaged chunk of her brain and endeavoured in remaining silent this time. Although everyone knew that she was known primarily for the absence of humor in her.
Sirin: This brig is nicer than some of the places I’ve woken up in ::feels her tongue:: I think I may have bitten someone. Not all of the blood in my mouth is mine.
Katoth: I enjoyed it.
Sirin: Of course you did.
Addison rolled her eyes, tired of the two women in front of her who had very clearly forgotten that they were Starfleet officers. Their conduct was unbecoming of the uniform, let along the charges they faced directly.
She cleared her throat and raised her voice to a level that was sure to make their brains rattle between their ears...
It was time to wake the drunkards from the dream.
MacKenzie: Lieutenant Alieth, Ensign Sirin, do you think your presence in this cell is amusing to me?
Alieth: I regard your ability to indulge yourself in any form of amusement as surprisingly meagre, in spite of being human.
Sirin: I’m assuming that is a rhetorical question, Commander. Here’s one for you...how would you have proceeded if you were attacked and had to defend yourself against opponents known for their ruthlessness in combat?
Meidra stared down the other officer, arms folded over her chest. Yes, the fight had been ill advised, but she was protecting her cousin. If Starfleet wanted to punish her for that, well, maybe this wasn’t the best place for her.
Addison [...]ed her head and her eyes slowly narrowed as she locked eyes with the Resolution’s counselor. Alieth was at least smart enough to know that the last sensible thing to do would be to talk back to her former CMO. The counselor, it appeared, had forgotten this part of her training.
MacKenzie: Counselor, I suggest that before you speak again, you consider to whom you are speaking and under what circumstance.
She waited to see if the counselor dared to speak, before asking for their account.
MacKenzie: I know what the report says, but I want to hear it from your side. (beat) ::pointing to Alieth:: You first.
Alieth: I arrived at the station about... ::The Vulcan rummaged around in her brain for a short while, as she tried to patch up the choppy timeline of the last night:: ... 17.7543 hours ago. I arranged a meeting point with my relative which would allow a celebration according to the parameters established in a previous correspondence and her personal preferences. After a moderate intake of intoxicants as an impersonation of social rituals witnessed among our respective crewmates, we set out to approach the local VSA headquarters for.... reasons.
For a moment Alieth seemed keen to remove SOMETHING from her sleeve. Something that happened to be Klingon blood.
MacKenzie: ...Reasons.
Alieth nodded sharply. So much so that the nausea came back again and she had to prolong the pause longer than intended.
Alieth: Indeed, reasons. In any case, upon our arrival we found that these gentlemen were discussing with a VSA member the merits of their research and Meim-..... Ensign Sirin offered to mediate the conflict. Unfortunately the qualities of that paper were largely absent.
Addison bit the inside of her cheek, then gestured at Meidra.
MacKenzie: Now you.
Sirin: It is as my cousin says. We met at a bar and drank before eating too much chocolate and wandering into an asinine discussion between a Vulcan scientist and these….gentlemen. We attempted to assist them in their faulty research. They attacked and we defended. After a short time, Security arrived to beam us here. Apparently we found a tattoo artist during our stay. Then you arrived.
Katoth: They fought like true warriors, bringing honor to their houses.
Sirin: This is the part where you say you started it, Katoth.
Had Addison’s eyes been laser beams, they’d have likely blown a hole in the woman’s chest. The idea that a Starfleet officer would justify participating in the equivalent of a bar fight by saying “they started it” suggested that there might be larger issues with this officer.
She then wondered if the counselor would accept such an argument from one of her patients and she would see them through it.
Unfortunately for the counselor, it was now the red-headed first officer who stood in front of them.
Addison moved very close to the forcefield where the Katoth stood and spoke to him in a low, clearly-not-screwing-around tone.
MacKenzie: And did you start it?
Katoth: Of course. We had to protect our honor.
MacKenzie: You have no honor, petaQ. Picking on women over such a small matter. Disgusting.
Katoth: They threw my research into a water fountain!
Sirin: I broke a nail too.
Even though Alieth's brain was rather reminiscent to some food from Earth referred as Gruyère cheese, she still had the experience to keep her mouth shut while her cousin and the Klingon argued and her former boss seemed more and more about to explode in an emotional outburst that she intended to avoid. Mainly because she didn't want to have to practice a medieval procedure and.... "smelly" with the level of nausea she currently experienced. And knowing Mackenzie as she did, she was convinced that this time she would force her to perform it with a wooden spoon and three leeches for... reasons
When the bickering among the rest of the crowd seemed to abate a bit, Alieth dared to stand on her very unstable feet.
Alieth: So... are you going to get us out of here... sir?
Addison crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.
MacKenzie: That remains to be seen, Lieutenant.
Katoth: ::to Meidra:: Perhaps we can exchange information and meet again when we both are in the mood for more scientific debate.
Sirin: Perhaps. Once you learn some actual science.
Addison held up both her hands.
MacKenzie: Enough! If the Klingons admit fault, then you’re free to go.
She nodded to the guard, who was prepared to lower the forcefield. Her gaze fell upon her former officer.
MacKenzie: Lieutenant Alieth, you will report every detail of this altercation to Captain Kells and Commander Teller. If I hear that you omitted anything, I will find you.
The tiny Vulcan rushed to acquiesce.
She paused before facing her current subordinate.
MacKenzie: Ensign Sirin, you should be glad it was me who came for you instead of Captain Nicholotti. As a former marine, she highly values personal integrity and accountability. I would consider myself on a very short leash if I were you.
Addison turned to the guard and nodded, indicating the field be lowered. As she made her way toward the exit, she heard one of them inhale as if to speak. Stopping in her tracks, she held up one hand without bothering to turn around.
MacKenzie: Not one more word from either one of you until I leave this room.
She paused, waiting for ensured silence, before exiting.
Alieth waited 2 eternal minutes before she turned to face her cousin.
Alieth: Krei, you are screwed.
Sirin: It was worth it. No one messes with my cousin.
Alieth shrugged slightly as the guard handed them their belongings. The petite doctor hung her tiny sack over her shoulder before she glanced at Meidra sideways.
Alieth: You know, we should do it again, maybe next shoreleave. :: Outside, in the security office an echo of Mackenzie's voice could be heard, the words were not clear even to the Vulcan's keen ear, but the tone was undeniable. The tone of someone who wasn't up for any of this nonsense :: Well, maybe the one after that, depends on how you handle her.
[[FIN?]]
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Lieutenant Commander Addison MacKenzie, M.D., Ph.D., FASFS
First Officer
USS Resolution
V239601AM0
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Lt. JG Alieth
Medical Officer
USS Thor NCC-82607
Author ID number: E239702A10
Image Collective Co-Facilitator Trainee
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Ensign Meidra Sirin
Counseling Officer
USS Resolution
R239707MS0
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Beat me to it, I enjoyed this one myself. Great job you two!
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Iron Captain Geoffrond Tel will purify the enemies of the Imperium with the holy flame of the Emperor's might.
Extermanus Guaranteed.
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In The Grim Darkness of the Far Future, There is Only War, and the loyal crew of the Overlord class heavy cruiser Thor are all the stand between the Imperium of Man and the endless flood of heresy that besets humanity on all sides.
Purge The Heritic. Burn the Xeno. For the Glory of the Emperor!
If you haven't guessed by now, the theme for the USS Thor this year is Adeptus Astartes, also known as the Space Marines from the Warhammer 40k universe. Each member of the crew has taken on a Marine persona thanks to the talents of our resident graphics genius, @Sister of Mercy Alethionus, and has a name that is befitting of their rank and position within the great chapters of the Astares.
Happy Halloween everybody!
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((OOC: This was a lovely and wonderful gesture, delivered just when I needed a bit of good cheer. @Alieth continues to set the bar higher and higher, and the fleet is luck to have her as a member. ))
[[Executive Officer's Office, Deck 1, USS Thor]]
With malice aforethought, Alieth made her way from the Great Hall through the bowels of the ship to the upper deck, concealing her secret cargo.
The few crewmen who had not been able to abandon their duties to attend the party in the lounge gave her astounded glances, not due to the fact that her presence near the bridge was somewhat unusual, but rather because of the quality of surreptitiousness that the minute Vulcan conveyed, even while preserving a perfectly neutral expression.
The code she had exchanged with a security crew member gave her access to the first officer's office and, with utmost care, Alieth secured the door behind her so that no one would discover her business there.
Once surpassed part of the ever-present mess on the office and the pile of pads that seemed to be multiplying besides on Teller's desk, the Vulcan opened a small space in the middle of the chaos, putting aside a couple of empty coffee mugs and what looked like a half-drunk cup of Vulcan tea.
And there, with great care so that it would be the first thing seen as the door swung open, she placed the box.
The box was small, barely 6 inchs of black lacquered wood, which seemed to absorb the dim light from the office like a black hole might.
On its top cover, a complex design of spirals and circles that she had drawn with delicacy and golden ink stood out on the dark surface, like a solar flare in the solitude of space.
Securing the lid was a complex lock. A game of logic that would keep the former engineer's mechanical interest busy for many hours, if Sern did not provide him the trick to open it.
Inside, three perfect and delicious golden gummy bears. Gummy bears that Teller would probably never get out of their captivity except with the force of a hammer.
The sugary delicacies had been wrapped in a small silk piece, with the same pattern as the lid, a phrase that the ensign Katsim had helped her to embroider on the fragile fabric, raising so many questions and getting so few answers.
Rom ar'kadan titaya . The phrase circled twice around the initials of the newly promoted Commander.
Pleased with the display, Alieth allowed herself a minute smile, just before she sneaked out of the office with the same malice aforethought with which she had entered.
[TBC]OOC:
Rom ar'kadan titaya → aprox. Good job guarantee==============================
=== Lt. JG Alieth
Medical Officer
USS Thor NCC-82607
Fleet Captain A. Kells, CommandingAuthor ID number: E239702A10
==============================
===
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This was a lot of laughs to work on and I can't wait to see how it makes a mess of our upcoming mission! Thanks for sharing it with the fleet, @Alora DeVeau and my sincerest thanks to @Alieth & @Quen Deena for helping make this story come alive!
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2 minutes ago, Jo Marshall said:
That'd be a cool spin off. Gritty detective noir in a former Federation colony. @Geoffrey Teller Wouldn't it?
I knew the dame was trouble the minute she walked through the door. Her goodie-two-shoes smile said 'trust me' but her razor sharp gaze screamed 'I'm watching.' The pay was too good, the job sounded too easy, and I knew I should've said no....but then I remembered that the only thing in my pockets was lint and a lousy crushed cigarette. Something told me right then that I'd be the one paying for this.
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@Quinn Reynolds & @Jo Marshall - Bravo you two. You managed to make a roadtrip in the family minivan into a nuanced, complex and emotional narrative that works for a lot of reasons. It's well paced, beautifully invoked and has a great balance of humor and heart. Well done
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It has been an absolute pleasure bringing this saga to an uplifting conclusion, and a wonderful opportunity to write with the exceptionally talented @Wes Greaves. All of this started with an idea of his making, and I cannot thank him enough for letting me build upon his start. Experiences like this are exactly why I enjoy 118!
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Sirok son of S'Vec and Rekika of Romulus - Ni'Var's Roots
in Appreciations
Posted
With shows like Picard and Discovery Season 3 contributing surprising new material to the Star Trek canon, new opportunities exist for creative storytelling in our universe and I think this beautiful JP is a perfect example. Here, @Sirok & @Alieth artfully begin construction of a story development that will take ~500 ic years, but that links to the 'future history' found in Disco S3 about the reunited Vulcan & Romulan peoples. Even without this connection to the new canon I think this is a great piece and can't wait to see more from these two and the emergent Ni'Var civilization!