Karrod Niac
-
Posts
299 -
Joined
-
Last visited
-
Days Won
17
Content Type
Profiles
Forums
Events
Posts posted by Karrod Niac
-
-
4 hours ago, Gila Sadar said:
This is sus 🤨 What did you put in the replicator, @Karrod Niac?
Niac: Computer, Rizz, Hot!
-
3
-
-
- Popular Post
12 minutes ago, IsKah said:Once more, you beat me to showing @Alieth appreciation for the same quote.
The early bird something something the quote thread.
-
1
-
1
-
3
-
- Popular Post
@Dekas really has a way with words that makes a scene pop right off the page. Unfortunately in this case it popped us right off the page and into their drafts folder:
-
8
-
- Popular Post
Every part of this little exchange makes me happy:
-
3
-
6
-
- Popular Post
A true joy is giving out MSNPC assignments with very little in the way of detail and then watching what talented writers decide to go and do with them. @LuxaLorana has been delighting the Ronin with her completely innocent/deeply suspicious colonial administrator for weeks now - we're lucky to have her. Although we may have to shoot this woman at some point.
((Aerodrome, Temporary Medical Outpost, Landing City, Grus Beta Three.))
Emzai resisted a smile as the doctor and the nurse blundered about, she barely acknowledged them. Healers, especially the Starfleet variety, did not pose a threat to her. They'd perform the roles she'd mapped out on her head.
She realised that they mistrusted her and that it wouldn't be long before they worked out what had been going on here. And her apparent involvement, and Kipal had ensured that she was involved, at least on paper.
The tall human woman, she was one that required consideration. As well as the Andorian, Kos, a constant annoyance. Hardly a threat though. Either of them.
Carpenter: Administrator…
Carpenter: Finally comin' to render that "full support" you promised us?
Emzai: :: indicates the crowd and then the enforcers :: I suggest you unhand our people :: to the crowd :: Starfleet have come here, under the guise of peace. Desperate, on our knees, and they came like they did before, and they brought with them phasers and a battleship. They can't heal our world, or our people. Instead they fire weapons from the skies, they destroyed several of our homes! They brought the fire so they could reclaim our world in their war! They done it before :: to a man:: Jesa, they left your planet to the Cardassians and then to the Dominion. What became of it?
Grandstanding always made her feel tacky. It was the lowest form of baiting. It was further evidence that she had now resorted to tactics that were beneath her.
It was necessary for her to have an audience for this next part.
The results were almost immediate. She observed the ebb of the crowd swell, the rustle of anger spread like a virus.
Jesa: Starfleet … they have an outpost there …
Emzai: They turned his home to the enemy and then into an outpost for themselves.
Emzai ensured that her voice cracked slightly, a display of emotion that she knew would illicit a reaction, as rare as it was for her to appear weak. She needed them to see her falter. They needed weakness from her now, and she'd give them that.
She'd become the tireless leader, the woman under pressure. Out of her depth. Emotional.
Clairis stepped forward and spat at them. Emzai was impressed by the sheer force of it, and raised a hand as if she meant to stop her. The good doctor took it on the face, without flinching.
Emzai made a display of crying out in shock and pulled Clairis back.
A show for the crowd and for the officers.
Kos: That's enough Emzai you ridiculous klahz**. ::surveying the crowd:: Every one of you knows Emzai would sell you out for a song.
Emzai raised a hand to her mouth, and looked to the crowd. She allowed a faux tear to fall.
Their resolve faltered, the situation wasn't as solid as she'd anticipated and now a little fear crept into her own demeanour.
Emzai: :: pathetic faux whine :: That's not true! :: turns to face the crowd :: I've always been here have I not? :: looks to Clairis :: Didn't I baptise your child in the springs? :: allows her voice to croak :: I danced with you all at the harvest festival not a season ago!
Carpenter: T-thank you, sir. And despite our...disagreement earlier. I've played straight with you. ::she shouts toward Crowd:: Toward everyone! ::she whirls on Emzai and her party:: Can your Administrator say the same?
The Andorian snorted deeply. Emzai felt Clairis hand on her shoulder, it appeared to be turning around again in her favour.
Starfleet's obstinate declarations only turned them in her favour, although she knew that she needed the tide to remain balance. She needed their help.
Kos: ::batting his eyes at Carpenter:: Don't flatter yourself darlin'. You're a tall drink of water, but I don't like Starfleet any better than saggy butt here ::pause:: In this case I'll take the devil with the better assets.
She heard the crowd mutter. Annoyed with Kos as much as she was.
Beck: Not to belabor the point, guys, but uh… we're rapidly running out of time to help treat any of you, let alone evacuate you so you don't… y'know… die in the fire. I don't know what's going on between you all, but personally I think we could all stand to put our differences aside at least long enough to stay alive.
Good. The Doctor had his uses. She moved towards him and grabbed his arms, her eyes pierced into his own. Her true nature hidden by the guise of a desperate woman.
Emzai: :: panicked :: Why would you fire on us?! What have we done to you? :: desperate :: We just wanted you to help us?!
Carpenter: Then WHY are you making this harder?! Showing up to a TRIAGE CENTER with drawn weapons?! Setting containers of unstable and psychoactive ore around CIVILIANS?! Just what's your game, lady?!
Emzai wanted to smile, the chief was moving into the exact position she wanted her in. Instead she cowered, and raised a frightened arm..
Drisila stepped forward as if to care for her. The crowd tensed, their was jibes and insults thrown.
The Andorian had one other comment himself.
Kos: ::Narrowing his eyes:: Keep this in mind Drisila. You can't wake the bear and not expect to tango.
Drisila shot him a look. Emzai squeezed her arm to keep her focused on the task at hand.
He seemed to narrow his eyes in confusion. But he left the comment as it laid.
Emzai: :: looks to Beck :: Please, don't hurt us anymore.
Then she allowed herself to cry, she gave them the performance the crowd needed. A woman broken. Defeated.
She fell to her knees. Something she never thought she'd do. Their was gasps behind her.
Carpenter: It's not just here. It's inside the planet itself. But then again, you probably knew that already, didn't you?
Emzai shook her head violently, her hair fell from its perfectly styled chignon and tumbled around her shoulders.
The more belligerent the Chief was the more the crowd sympathised with Emzai. She seemed at the Chiefs feet.
Beck indicated toward the blown out tunnel in the Aerodrome alcove.
Beck: That there is the danger right now - that maleconite you've all been mining, it's not just a mineral. It's reactive, it's dangerous, and it's poisonous. I don't know how long you've been mining it, but I would stake my life and my commission that it's been having some long-term effects on… all of you.
Perfect.
The crowd cried out. This was their life, the Maleconite had given them freedom and prosperity. They all had their hand in it.
Emzai had believed it was a blessing, a rarity that they were able to refine it and it granted them freedom. Freedom from the Federation, and the rest.
Except when it became a trap. A trap that none of them knew they were in. Laid out perfectly by Kipal, Droz and the Lattice Alliance. She suspected many others.
Emzai had tried to stop them, she truly had. Yet, it was too late. The damage had been done. Starfleet would be next, and Emzai just needed to get as far away from it all as possible.
One of those Starfleet runabouts would do the trick.
Emzai: :: sobs :: Save us Doctor, please.
Kos: Response
Carpenter: Oh, for-...Nurse Rox, please recruit some of my people and start setting up air scrubbers throughout the parameter. If we can't clean the air out there, let's at least try and clean some up in here.
Rox: RESPONSE
Kirsty clomped back toward the alcove, drawing once more her tricorder and shooting a quieting finger (but not the one she REALLY wanted) toward the sputtering Emzai. She took some cursory scans of the inside of the blown out entryway. Higher ambient temperature for sure. Direction was right too. The tunnel wound away toward the range of Kite Springs.
Emzai: :: stifling tears :: That's the storage, for the ore. There's an emergency release, it would nullify the Maleconite by burying it under the Earth. I can take you and show you how?
Emzai had no intention of going into those tunnels. Truth was she'd never set foot in one of them. Dirty, dark and miserable places.
Carpenter: Here's what's REALLY going to happen. Nurse Rox and her medics are going to continue to help those that need it here, with or without your help. Meanwhile, me and Beck are gonna go help the rest of our crew save your frakkin' planet an' people from the FIRE currently eating through it from the inside out.
Perfect.
The woman turned forward slightly, squaring up her shoulders (fully aware and hopeful in Crowd's rapt silence).
Carpenter: Are you goin' to stop us?
Emzai: :: to the crowd:: Do as she says. We have no choice. They've made that clear. :: cries :: I just hope it's not too late.
The crowd rumbled at this, there were cries of protest from those that held a deeper mistrust of Starfleet. No doubt visions of uniformed officers forcibly removing them from the DMZ.
To them it must seem it's all happening again.
Kos/Beck/RoxCarpenter: RESPONSE
Emzai: :: to a random child :: Go on little one. We must leave, Starfleet demands it of us :: to Carpenter :: I must retrieve Kipal.
Kos/Beck/Rox/Carpenter: RESPONSE
Emzai: What?
For a split second the facade dropped, the steel returned to her eyes.
Kos/Beck/Rox/Carpenter: RESPONSE
Emzai: Uhm sure I can show you … of course.
--
Lt JG Luxa Lorana
Science Officer
USS Ronin
A240004LL2-
5
-
- Popular Post
- Popular Post
Sometimes it takes a while for a group of writers to settle into a vibe with one another and to begin forming those bonds that help a crew evolve into a family. Then there are the good folks aboard the Ronin who already write like they've been together for years. As a CO it's a joy to behold and more than worth sharing with the rest of the fleet.
Bravo folks - although I don't know why you think the Ronin needs a Junior Officer Protection Association.
=================================================================
((Lounge, Mission Pod Level B, USS Ronin))
Vomek paced again across the lounge. Rox sat in one of the padded chairs and watched him go back and forth. She was not sure why she’d come. She was not an officer of any kind and while the Oumuamua crew had accepted her as part of JOPA, there was no reason to think that the Ronin crew would do so automatically. Still, there was the entertainment value of watching Vomek squirm. He was not what you’d call a people person. Rox was impressed he’d gone this far out of his comfort zone.
Vomek had seen Toxin run one of these meetings with no trouble at all, but Vomek could feel sweat on his face. He had chairs and he’d gotten several pizzas and various types of beer replicated. Now he waited to see who might walk through the door. He made another circuit of the Lounge and was about start yet another when the the door to the Lounge opened.
Luxa stepped through the doors, her tail swayed behind her confidently. Luxa's hair was flattened down against her skull, straightened and fell straight down her back. It accentuated her feline features and striking amber eyes. Her dress was golden silks that matched her eyes and crossed in several places along her chest, only revealing two triangles on her side.
It was a Caitian design, that then floated out around her legs; beautiful and freeing.
She had only had cause to visit the crew mess onboard, and she was stricken with how beautiful the lounge was, it was as if she'd stepped into a different time period.
The bar area was situated between two pillars, that dominated an entire wall. The pillars were embossed with warm, dim glimmering lights that swirled into differing shapes and images. She believed she could see a man, swinging what appeared to be a blade in those lights. It was the briefest of flashes.
The rest was decorated with what appeared to be strong, dark wooden tables and chairs positioned in various formations to offer both larger areas for groups and more intimate spaces for those who liked to keep things private.
There was latticed wood on the walls, with luscious plants that crawled along them. She enjoyed that they seemed to have opted for a selection of Federation plants throughout the lounge. She went to the nearest, leant over and sniffed; an orchid that she knew most if not all would recognise. A midnight orchid, she wondered if this came from the Academy gardens themself. Maybe tended to by the famous Boothby, or his holodeck alternative that now tended to the gardens.
The thought sent shivers down her spine. It felt unnatural and ghostly, although others seemed to find it comforting.
Vomek: Hello. I’m Ensign Vomek. Welcome to JOPA.
Luxa spun towards him.
Lorana: Hello Ensign.
oO a Romulan? Oo
She smiled, and extended her hand. Her second Romulan meeting in a matter of months. Times were changing.
Lorana: Ensign Lorana, and Science Officer :: she indicated her gown :: Today I'm just Luxa.
Vomek took the Caitian’s hand.
Vomek: Echante.
Luxa smiled.
Vomek: If you help yourself to some pizza and beer I’ll tell you more about JOPA once all our potential members have arrived.
Luxa scented the nurse before she saw her, with her pale skin and dark raven hair. Nurse Rox, with the not quite human scent. Luxa moved towards the pizza and beer. She'd encountered beer before, at Hiro's movie night on the Artemis, and knew that she'd skip that beverage. She hoped that the friendly Romulan wouldn't mind. The pizza however, she wondered how many pieces would be considered polite. She'd certainly eat it all if given the chance.
Vomek: ::turning to Rox:: You finally going to join us. Go to the academy and all?
Rox: No I’m not a member, purely here for logistical support. ::indicating her bowling shirt from the Oumuamua:: see “Crew Girl” Says it all I think.
Lorana: Harry Kim? :: looks to Vomek confused, points to his shirt :: You bear his name? :: confused :: Relation?
Vomek: ::looking at his shirt:: Yes it was a gift from the JOPA chapter on the USS Oumuamua. The “Harry Kim” is just a bad joke.
The door to the Lounge slipped open again and Quentin stepped in wearing his blue coat with PADD in hand, typing out his patient notes for the day, his brow furrowed slightly. He didn't look up until he'd nearly run into one of the tables that had been moved for this meeting, and he looked around only mildly embarrassed before shutting off the screen and tucking it into his pocket. He spotted Rox and Avae chatting, offered them both a nod, and then cleared his throat to address… anyone, really.
Beck: Uh… this is for the JOPA meeting, right? Got a message in my inbox I might want to be here tonight.
Vomek: Welcome doctor. Please help yourself to some food and a beverage. The Dark Island brew is from my adopted homeland, Orkney.
He nodded and raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck before crossing to the food table, letting out a low whistle.
Beck: Quite a spread. Just realized how hungry I am.
Luxa popped another piece of the pizza in her mouth, and almost swallowed it whole. It was warm, and delicious. She was glad that she'd managed to get her appetite back after not eating a mouthful during lunch.
Lorana: :: swallows :: Hello, again. :: extends paw :: We didn't get to properly say hello before in Sickbay. Quentin Beck isn't it?
Quentin brightened a little at her greeting, reaching out to shake her paw firmly, his eyes crinkling with amusement.
Beck: Yeah, that's right. And you're Luxa. Pleased to meet you in better circumstances. How are you feeling? Any better?
Lorana: Much better doctor.
Beck: I gotta tell ya, I appreciate you letting me take care of that final bit of treatment for you - first day in Sickbay so I was a little nervous, but you made things easy.
He picked up a plate and started loading it with pizza, a slice or two from each pie, picking at extra melty pieces of cheese that were falling off and scooping them into his mouth immediately.
Lorana: I wasn't about to refuse, having your molecules begin to lose cohesion can make you very willing to accept any treatment available :: laughs :: And you were very delicate with me. I appreciate that.
Looking across the room, Vomek was satisfied that phase 1 of his plan had been successful. People had come and were now enjoying themselves. It made sense that phase 2 should begin.
Vomek: Uh hello everybody?Rox chuckled. No one was paying attention to Vomek. She wondered if she should tell someone about his Oumuamua nickname. Vomit. She decided to hold her tongue for the moment. The room was crowded with junior officers and they could be fickle on a good day. The less they noticed a non-commissioned crewman the better.Vomek: ::louder:: Uh guys? Hello?Just coming off his shift, Ian knew he was going to be late for this JOPA meeting Ensign Vomek was putting together but better late than never. It was at least a chance to meet some of the other “lower decks” folks. Ian knew that Luxa and C’iri would be there so he’d at least know a couple people.The doors of the lounge opened and as Ian was about to step through the entryway.Deciding that she could not watch Vomek suffer further, Rox walked over to stand beside Vomek and gave a loud, shrill whistle. The room went silent.Ian stopped in the doorway, not entirely sure he wanted to walk through at that moment, the shrill whistle was still ringing in his ears.Vomek: ::looking at Rox:: Thank you.Rox walked to the back of the room and leaned against the wall.Vomek: I didn’t get to meet you all yet. My name is Ensign Vomek, helm and comms officer from the USS Oumuamua.He glanced around the room.Vomek: I was also on the Foxy Lady during the Denali Invitational. We took third.Vomek gave a broad smile to the room. He expected that information would impress the room and give credence to his leadership.Luxa narrowed her eyes, they had engine troubles and had to leave the race. She was certain they'd have won.Lorana: :: jokes :: You're lucky the Vela had to leave the race. I hope you enjoyed the Kryptilithium though! :: laughs ::Vomek: ::calling back to Lorana:: That was just rude.Ian was pretty sure Luxa’s comment was intended as a joke but it didn’t seem as though Vomek was comprehending the humor. He’d met the Ensign several times but their only real interactions had been as Helm officers at shift transfer of duties times. Routine and professional stuff only.Quentin snorted.Beck: The Foxy Lady? Who came up with that one?Rox happened to be walking past Beck and hearing the name of her precious vessel being dissed, she stuck him sharply on the shoulder with her fist.Rox: ::saucy:: I did. Do you have an opinion on it?Beck: ::grinning and rubbing his shoulder:: Ouch. Just thought it was amusing, that's all.Rox raised her eyebrow and continued her walk to the back of the room.O’Connor: :: Finally walking fully into the room:: I believe Ensign Lorana was just poking a little bit of fun, no need to get riled. We are all here for some fun and to find out what this JOPA thing is all about.Ian hoped Luxa wouldn’t get mad at him for the comment but he didn’t want things to get out of hand…at least right off the bat.Luxa appreciated O’Connor's attempts to defend her but felt they weren't necessary. A little bit of friendly banter was fine by her, although she still gave him a friendly nod.Vomek: So JOPA is the Junior Officers Protection Association. We’re here to watch out for each other. We all know things can be rough if you’re lower decks, lower ranked than a Lieutenant. JOPA is here to help and support you. Because we have former members, we can use those connections later.Ian wondered if Vomek realized that Ian’s deflective comment just protected him from Lorana. Probably not. He’d bet it went right over his head like Lorana’s ribbing.Quentin cradled a cup of coffee to offset the beer he'd been drinking earlier, steam rising from the rim.Beck: So how does that work once you're promoted? Is that the 'former member' thing? Kind of like being an alumnus?Vomek: ::nodding to Beck:: Yes once you’re an alum you can help others up the ladder. ::looking across the crowd:: No one is obligated to join, I just wanted to present the opportunity.He glanced around the room again trying to make eye contact with as many people as possible.Vomek: I enjoyed JOPA because I made friends. We did lots of social stuff and I was able to connect with a bridge buddy more easily.Rox had strolled back to stand next to the pizza table. She was debating whether a piece of pepperoni or a piece of cheese would be better. She looked up thinking Vomek was just about to miss something important.Rox: ::shouting from the back:: Pranks!Ian swung his head around to nurse Rox.Luxa wasn't sure pranks were a good idea since she'd been in enough bother since arriving.O’Connor: Pranks? On who?Vomek: Well ::hesitating:: in order to be full members, there is a requirement to play a prank on a senior officer.O’Connor: Wait so this group encourages us to prank the multi-pips?Vomek: We encourage risk taking as preparation for command.This seemed pretty darn ironic for what Ian knew of Vomek. Maybe he was misjudging him.O’Connor: You’re encouraging that?Vomek gave O’Conner a broad smile.Beck: So hazing the newbies. Got it. I had to do that at MIT, too. I assume they're meant to be good-natured pranks and not things that'd get your commission revoked.Vomek: Well for my prank I convinced our XO that another JOPA member was an ambassador. I got him to give a tour of the Oumuamua in only his pants.Oh, yes. Ian had definitely misjudged Vomek.Rox: I heard somebody once glitter bombed Wes Greaves office.Vomek: We can assign teams for pranks. I suggest Lorana and Beck show Commander Carpenter a good time. Perhaps O’Connor and Tucker could give Doctor Kel a thrill?Beck: ::wrinkling his nose over his mug:: Prank the Chief of Security? Man, that feels like bad juju… ::looking to Lorana and smirking:: But I bet we could come up with something good…Lorana: Not sure I want to feel Carpenter's wrath :: looks to Beck :: Although it might be fun to … try something.Rox: ::loudly:: No!. Dr. Kel is off limits.Vomek: No one is off limits Crewman Queen.Rox: V’Len was off limits on the Oumuamau.Vomek: No, we just didn’t get to him.Rox: I’m telling you he’s off limits.Rox: For one one thing I don’t want to get caught up in someone's prank. I work in sickbay.Beck: Hey, I do, too, but as long as it isn't a stupid prank that'd get somebody hurt, I'm sure it'd be okay.He sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw and studying Rox for a moment before shrugging.Beck: Besides, he seems like he's got a good sense of humor to me.Vomek: ::nodding:: He is always pleasant.Rox: Dr. Kel puts us together when we’re hurt. You really want to piss him off? You could end up with two heads!O’Connor: That’s okay, I think, I’m going for the big guy…but I need a science buddy and someone medically or first aid trained. Any takers?Beck: I can help with that. I'll have my hands full working with Luxa to prank Carpenter, but I don't see why I wouldn't be able to provide you with some assistance.Luxa smiled at Beck.Vomek: What if Ico, and Vailani take Commander Raga?Luxa laughed at the thought of Vailani doing a prank, and then shuddered at the prospect of it. Especially the Bajoran duo on the case.Vomek: And just to show I’m a good sport ::looking around:: Jones and I will take the good Captain.Vomek: Great. Everyone enjoy some food and thanks for coming.With that done Vomek stepped down from the podium and headed toward the back of the roomVomek: Well that went well.Vomek received only an eye roll from Rox, but he decided to ignore the woman for the moment. He made his way over to the Caitian, Luxa Lorana.Vomek: ::tapping Lorana on the shoulder:: So, the Vela eh? It’s a shame you had to drop out. The Kryptilitium was a good trick.Quentin eyed Lorana with amused curiosity.Beck: Oh, wait a second - I was trying to remember why all that sounded familiar. I remember watching that race at the Academy, they even canceled classes for the day so we could all enjoy it. Were you piloting the Vela?Lorana: Yes I was, until we got some engine problems and had to bail out. Myself, Ensigns Kader and Kuva from the Artemis. We were the ones who deployed the Kryptilithium over the course, and slowed the racers down :: sneaky :: Never trust a scientist.Vomek: Well I was impressed by the subterfuge, and I’m Romulan.Lorana: I take that as a compliment.Beck: Sounds like I'm gonna have to keep a close eye on you both.He looked up to see O'Connor leaving the lounge.Beck: I'm gonna go chat with him about what he needs - Luxa, let's touch base later to discuss our plans for the CTO.Waving to them both, he downed the last of his coffee before jogging to catch up with Ian.O’Connor: :: walking out with “science buddy” and first responder :: …so from what I understand, the Yilga Bat guano extract should only work on a joined Trill and will either make their hair glow in the dark, preferred option, or cause an allergic reaction that will make all of their spots swell to the size of golf balls, unpreferred option…Beck: ::blinking:: Uh… well, I can take a look at his medical file to see what allergies he might have. That's a wild, wild idea…Rox shook her head as she watched O’Connor walking out of the room. They had forgotten one thing. She decided not to warn them, she’d just make sure she was ready when the time came.With all that being said, and the others leaving. Luxa decided to follow suit. She was no real use at pranks but she found that she wouldn't mind getting to know this human doctor a little better.–Ensign VomekH/C/O OfficerUSS Ronin NCC-34523T239811VK2He/Him (character and player)&Ensign Quentin BeckMedical OfficerUSS Ronin NCC-34523A238810SA0&Lt JG Luxa LoranaScience OfficerUSS Ronin NCC-34523A240004LL2&Ensign Ian O’ConnorHCOUSS Ronin NCC-34523R240009IO4&RoxNurseUSS Ronin NCC-34523T239811VK2He/Him (character and player)-
3
-
3
-
6 hours ago, Alieth said:
WELL! Captain pain, you said it @LuxaLorana
How do you know what my joints sound like!?!?!?
-
4
-
-
- Popular Post
This year's theme for the USS Ronin will be - We just launched! We won't be contestants this year but we're happy to cheer on everyone else around the fleet! Have some spooky fun everybody!
-
3
-
4
-
- Popular Post
- Popular Post
3 hours ago, Nolen Hobart said:From today's JP between @Karrod Niac and @Randal Shayne:
What's the starship version of Hims?
I.I. is a serious issue affecting dozens of mature vessels. Ask your Engineer if Nacellion is right for you. If warp field lasts for more than four hours, contact the Starfleet Corps of Engineers immediately.
-
7
-
1 hour ago, Talia Ohnari said:
He's YOUR problem now!!! Mwahaha....
Except not. Gott is everyone's problem at all times....off screen...waiting....scheming.....
He’s always Gott his eye on you!
-
1
-
3
-
-
- Popular Post
- Popular Post
One of the greatest things about our format is the idea that you can release an idea into the wild and, if you're very very lucky, others will take hold of that idea and run with it in ways you never could've imagined. I started the Brew Continuum as an Ensign and somehow, years later, the idea of the little coffee shop that could but probably shouldn't has kept growing and evolving and delighting writers across the fleet. This newest installment is one of my absolute favorites and features a brilliant characterization of one of the hardest species to do well, the Children of Tama/Tamarians. Bravo @Robin Hopper!
======================================================================
((Brew Continuum, Deck 3 – USS Artemis))
Javaris stood behind the counter of the small caffé, nestled into a nook-like room across from the ship’s Mess Hall, beaming with pride. It was now the second day since his venture had opened its doors, and with much of the crew enjoying their ‘shore leave’, he was sure that business would boom like Kaelor’s forge, its fires never ceasing.
It had taken quite some convincing to talk his managers aboard Deep Space 224 into allowing him to open and operate his own franchise aboard the newly-christened USS Artemis-A but, much like Orani, with her eyes on the summit, he had persevered. Now, his hopes and dreams had been made a reality, and it was only a matter of time until his efforts would prove successful – Javaris was sure of it.
So, he began puttering about, preparing for the day’s activities – grinding beans, heating steam, and flicking on the aroma dispersal unit which would fill the café with the smell of delicious baked goods.
Javaris: ::Sighing contentedly:: Raesh and Jorin, sailing prosperous seas…
As he predicted, it was not long before the first customers of the day found their way into his establishment, and his work could begin in earnest. Jibrore, piping hot. Macchiato, its foam extra frothy. Raktajino, its intensity tempered with oat milk… The hours of day sailed along as one, by one, new loyal customers were earned through the crucible of dedicated and studious mastery of the arts of caffeination and customer service.
Many of his first customers were, predictably, those already familiar with the Brew Continuum’s outlet aboard the Spacedock… Engineering Crewmen who had been tasked with assisting the Artemis’ crew in their repair efforts whilst the vessel was docked. After several hours, however, a new and altogether unfamiliar face entered – a most auspicious visitor… One of the Artemis’ own complement of Starfleet Officers.
The Tamarian barista waved cheerily, greeting the newcomer and inviting them to experience one (or several) of the Brew Continuum’s delightful offerings.
Javaris: ::Grinning:: Amara's hearth, its embers glow for all who draw near!
Any: Response
Javaris nodded, eagerly, happy to attend to the officer’s caffeic needs and desires. He indicated the menu, projected onto a screen above his head so that daily offerings could be customized depending on the availability of fresh ingredients (after all, much like Raesh and Jorin on their journey of trade, once the Artemis ‘set sail’, it could well be some time before they made port again).
Javaris: ::Indicating the breadth of available options:: Temba, his arms wide, with pastries abundant...
Any: Response
Clapping his hands together, Javaris exulted in his customer’s selection. It was a fine choice – and one which he would dearly enjoy preparing as well.
Javaris: ::Reacting favourably:: Mirab, receiving nectar from the stars!
With the order input into his inventory tracking system, Javaris moved to his devices and began preparing the order. However, customer service neither began nor ended with the preparation of goods. No, no, it began and ended with connection. With that in mind, he attempted to engage his visitor in polite, yet friendly, conversation…
Javaris: ::Indicating himself:: Javaris, the huntress’ humble barista. ::Indicating the newcomer:: Lumara's tapestry, woven with shared stories?
Any: ResponseTAG / TBC
==
PNPC Javaris (he/him)
Proprietor & Barista, Brew Continuum
USS Artemis-A
V239806K11-
7
-
1
-
23 hours ago, Talia Ohnari said:
I bet he has a monogrammed snuggie.
Well he does now.
-
3
-
-
- Popular Post
- Popular Post
A good NPC is worth its weight in latinum but the challenge can often be bringing life to a character or species that we have very little canonical knowledge of. Here Lt. Jg. Hobart swings for the fences and nails a delightfully disgusting characterization in this introductory sim. It's the first sim I've posted in appreciations that made me nauseous, so, cheers!
========================================
((Command Hub, Central Ventrical, SCS Imperative))
An alarm chimed strangely at Senior Associate Regional Vice Director Of Exploitation Goo’py. The alarm itself was perfectly ordinary, but the fact of it was strange. The humanoid tenant of the Federation facility, one Boo-Fard, had requested an arrival at a specific time, but Vice Director Goo’py didn't get where he was by taking directives from lesser species. He departed Shev’Unden when he was ready, and not a moment earlier or later.
But the strangeness of the alarm bothered Goo’py. A ship on an intercept course, of unidentified allegiance, was detected by the Imperative's long range scanners. The trajectory matched a Ferengi origin.
The Ferengi, as a species, were easy enough to corral. Their sense of independence could be easily and entirely subsumed by their desire to reap a profit. But their nature of profit was deeply flawed. Measured in terms of currency, the Ferengi were a people wealthy beyond imagination. In terms of power, their greed was a flaw to be exploited. But also managed. On Naz, they had been allowed to fester as an infestation. It was a tale as old as time. Director Flur’psh had thought to allow the Ferengi access, as something of an invasive species. It was on the surface, a sound idea. Mining operations would continue, but the burden on corporate assets would be reduced.
Flur’psh was an idiot, who had lingered far too long in a position he clearly couldn't handle. His mind had grown sloppy, and his folds sagged and reeked of a career gone stale. He was, to Goo’py’s photoreceptors, ripe for the picking, and Naz was where he was softest. A victory here would not only reinforce the vital flow of resources from within Naz, but secure Goo’py’s future within the Corporate hierarchy.
As his ship blurped out of warp within sight of the horribly spindly looking Deep Space 33, Goo’py gripped a control crystal and accessed the ship's navigation and control suite, setting course for an open bay. Not waiting for instruction from the station. If he was forced to wait for the Federation to catch up with his requirements, he would shrivel and die of old age before even setting foot on their ramshackle excuse for a Starbase. No, Station Ops would accommodate him, at his leisure. The Federation wouldn't risk anything else.
With the course programmed and autopilot engaged, Goo’py disabled the Imperative’s artificial gravity. He was no longer required to stay at his station, and zero-G movement was, of course, the most expedient way to get from one compartment of the compact destroyer to another. Leaving his small crew behind, Goo’py prepared himself for the inglorious work of interfacing with lesser lifeforms.
((Timeskip, Docking Bay, Deep Space 33))
Vice Director Goo’py loathed the station from the beginning. The atmosphere was appropriate, but the architecture was gaudy and insistence on making him fight the artificial gravity was obnoxious. He surveyed the motley arrangement of officers and diplomats. In contrast to the Ferengi, the Federation was resilient, a begrudgingly-acknowledged threat. The variety of cultures contained within it meant it could at times struggle to survive, but, in doing so, became more resilient against manipulation. The treaty, for now, held, but the Federation was not his concern this day. Naz was.
From his core a deep bubbling and burping, a glopping and sloshkng preceded his speech.
Goo’py: Speak carefully or your own words may doom you.
The traditional Sheliak greeting was true enough. It's why speech was often a last resort. Script and law and rules could and should be made as lengthy and complex as they needed to be. But the inferiority of the meatier species inevitably presented itself in their preference for speech. Hasty and vague, Goo’py often wondered if it was due to the fear of their meat going to spoil.
Any: Response
More gurgling and squicking could be heard in the room, as Goo’py formulated his speech carefully.
Goo’py: I am the Sheliak Corporate Authority in the Naz region, and, for the extent of thisss… summit, on thisss… space station. When you address me, you address Shev’Unden.
Any: Response
TAG/TBC
———
Goo’py
Senior Associate Regional Vice Director Of Exploitation
Sheliak Corporate Authority
as simmed by
Lieutenant Junior Grade Nolen Hobart
Engineering Officer
USS Arrow (NCC-69829)
A240001NH3
-
4
-
1
-
36 minutes ago, Altemuller said:
Thank you everyone, I am glad you liked my entry. And congratulations to @Karrod Niac and @DrPsyPhi . And of course a huge thank you to @Kali Nicholotti for the excellent prompt that inspired many.
And to all participants, know that you gained a new reader in me and I cannot wait to see what you write next.
A well earned victory mate, congratulations! Look forward to your prompt for next years competition!
-
4
-
-
- Popular Post
- Popular Post
Like Riker before him, Karrod has one off duty outfit and that's all he needs.
With all due credit to @Alieth
-
21
-
- Popular Post
- Popular Post
The Arrow's CO has done a lot of self-reflection this leave and I think this sim deserves special recognition for the delicate balance it manages to strike with a complex, emotional topic and not at all because it implies the benefits of listening to his XO. That had absolutely nothing to do with this post.
At all.
Bravo, Skip.
=================================
((Deck 1, Captain’s Ready Room, USS Arrow))
Dewitt: Permission to speak freely, Sir?
Shayne: We’re alone.
That was as good as permission, as far as Shayne was concerned. From day one, his policy had been that the formality of command largely ceased in the confines of a singular, private conversation. He knew that his love of the chain of command could be a noose as easily as it was a guide, and he was determined to not be hanged by his dedication to protocol like some sort of stuffy, intransigent bureaucrat. Thus, anyone- from the lowliest crewmen to the most senior of his officers- held his attention and his confidence while alone in the environs of the ready room. It was a sacred trust, one Shayne was pleased to know he’d never had reason or need to break.
Dewitt: I have talked a lot to one of the Cadets from the Libris, Ginny Lacy. I guess she is the brain behind the automation of the ship. She's holding the belief that an AI has a more complete and deterministic picture of heated situations and how to solve them. ::pause and taking another sip:: I can think of a million reasons why I believe an automated AI-based ship is a bad idea... But I cannot put off the thought that there is some truth to what she said.
Shayne heard the Lieutenant’s words, and secretly, inwardly began to build defenses around himself. It was natural, second nature, to be exact, and it was a method of maintaining his emotional equilibrium without sacrificing awareness of the moment.
But Niac’s words gruffly scampered up his brain stem like a vertical Jefferies Tube, wagged a vaguely hircine finger in disapproval, and then vanished back through the hatch. No, this time he would be better. This time he’d trust his crew.
Shayne: There is.
Before it had become a topic of personal contention for the captain, he’d often wrestled with the idea of AI ships himself. It seemed that ninety percent of the personnel aboard a given starship were there specifically to attend to the personnel aboard the starship. Doctors, counselors, environmental engineers, communications officers, that one schmuck saddled with corralling the various pets that escaped quarters during crises and took the opportunity to mate, leading to callico-targ hybrids that no one was qualified to look after… wow, his mind flew off the track.
The point was that it was an old argument, and even without the normal recrimination that would accompany the notion, Shayne had to admit that the cold logic of steel and circuits would be a comforting distance for the fleet to maintain. But it was too cold for him. Sometimes when he looked at ships in space, he’d think about their beauty or their power. And yet, when they occasionally emerged from the eclipse of a moon, or left the native sun far behind, he couldn’t help but think how impossibly cold they must be. Shivering duranium and frost-encrusted nacelles and… just cold.
Dewitt: As I'm collecting those pips on my collar... I'm just wondering how you deal with that... Heated decisions will always be made with an incomplete set of information... Part of it seems like a mixture of a gut feeling and hope.
Shayne kept his bearing stern and thoughtful, but inside, it was like a long-forgotten sun had risen from behind a cloud bank. So much of what he’d felt was being spelled out better than he’d ever been able to consolidate it, and it seemed that he was being rewarded for listening to Niac’s words, if only in the form of validation. It hadn’t been just him. It was reasonable. It was feared, and difficult, and challenging, and there was no easy solution, and now his place in all this- in all this- was becoming, if not clearer, then more trustworthy.
Shayne: You couldn’t be more correct. In my experience, every officer contends in a different way. That’s where you’ll find your sense of style, of leadership. But for me? I think like an Ops officer, and a pilot. Aviate, navigate, communicate… and do the best you can.
It wasn’t much of a response, but it was the truth, and he held close to the validity of these approaches, even if they weren’t for everyone.
Dewitt: How do you make those decisions without doubt and without charging yourself if things go south?
Shayne stared at Dewitt for a moment, nonplussed. Before, the relevance these questions had to Shayne was something of a novelty, an enjoyable detail in an otherwise rapidly changing life. But now, it was almost like the young lieutenant was reading Shayne’s mind. How very much like the captain Dewitt was starting to become, and for the life of him, Shayne could not determine whether that was bad or good.
Shayne: “When I was a child I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child, but when I became a man I put away childish things…”
Randal Shayne held much of religion in great contempt, and made it more dangerously clear than most in his position. Tolerance and respect were still possible, but he would not be satisfied with the bludgeon that faith had become so often on his homeworld in the past. One must live it, embody it, and serve it as much as it served them, and in the pursuit of this agenda, Shayne had taken to skimming the holy texts of many faiths around the Alpha Quadrant. It was such a pity he couldn’t believe; the churches were beautiful, the stained glass telling stories that words might have mangled, and the words… twisted to evil so often, and yet…
Shayne: You are asking the right questions, but the wrong person. Only you can answer them, in time, and with much deliberation, and much error. And the permission to make those errors, those choices… starts with your leader, and slowly, you find conviction sufficient to supply your own. And then you decide, and learn, and if you are right more often than you are wrong, they make you a captain.
It was not the fountain of wisdom Shayne wished to provide, nor the simple answer he himself so desperately craved as a nascent lieutenant, looking with awe and anxiety at the ever-increasing obligations and possibilities open to him. Shayne knew the willingness to dive in, even without knowing, despite the desire to know as much as possible, was part of what made a good leader, or at least a good star service captain. It sounded so reckless, so self-serving, and yet, no ship was safe in port. No soul would blossom in confinement. And no words could convey a truth they weren’t designed to bear.
Dewitt: Response
Shayne: Our success is built on failure. And so long as you are ready to learn, and answer for the consequences, and accept the burden that is the metal at your collar, I give you permission to fail, Mr. Dewitt. And perhaps together we will find the answers you so keenly seek.
For a moment, the uniforms didn’t matter. The ranks didn’t matter. They were but two men; one freshly proven and looking towards the future, and the other watching from farther down the road, at the storms and the rockslides and the many dead canaries, and trying to shout in a hoarse whisper… “awake!”
Dewitt: Response
Tag/TBC (END?)
-
5
-
1
-
Lovely piece and it raises an important question - do Cardassians hate Mondays and love lasagna?
-
1
-
2
-
-
It's fantastic getting to watch our junior officers grow and mature their characters in such a short time since coming aboard but @Seesh has been consistently delightful to read. Well done!
-
1
-
-
- Popular Post
- Popular Post
The quiet hum of the runabout, occasionally punctuated by the chimes of automated systems dutifully performing their functions, was the only break from the oppressive silence that wrapped Geoffrey Teller like a pitch-black cloak. In the two days his journey had taken he hadn't spoken, save for the rare instruction to the ships computer, and even those few times had been abrupt and ledden. Gone was the zeal and gangly energy for which he was typically known, buried too deep under layers of loss and grief for even his spirit to shine through. He looked towards the transporter platform and its single occupant and considered again how he'd come to be chosen for this last, solemn duty.
Geoff had fallen out of time; stolen away from the life and career he'd built by an enemy who had harried his steps since his earliest days as an officer on the U.S.S. Veritas. He'd been imprisoned, returned to a place that played a central role in his darkest nightmares and only when he'd broken free with the assistance of friends and colleagues had he begun to grasp all that had been taken from him. And all that he'd missed. In the space between two heartbeats he'd lost a year of his life as the outside universe continued on, blithely ignorant to his absence.
In the months that had passed since then he'd tried coming to terms with the enormity of that loss yet every time he thought he'd begun to put aside the bitter anger that consumed him in his quiet hours, some new discovery wounded him anew. The message he'd received a week ago had been the worst among them all, though, and so had the request that had gone along with it. He glanced again at the transporter platform and the small urn that stood upon a plinth in its center as tears once again clouded his vision.
He had met her on his very first assignment and she'd seen something in him that Geoff himself had been unable to, but that had been her way. Although she had suffered from a debilitating, chronic disease for which there was no cure, her heart seemed to overflow with compassion and empathy for all those around her. She had wrapped those closest to her in an warm embrace that could forestall the sting of the deepest agonies. She'd even made Geoff one of his most cherished personal possessions, a beautiful hand-woven blanket made in the ancient style of her people, and it had become a tangible symbol of all the kindness and care she shared so freely with others. The blanket sat on the empty co-pilots chair where he'd delicately placed it when embarking. He'd not dared touch it since.
The navigation computer drew his attention back to the present as the runabout dropped out of warp and, as programmed, brought the ship to a halt. Beyond the shuttle's viewport was the awesome majesty of a formation that early astronomers had dubbed 'The Pillars of Creation,' a vast collection of stellar phenomena that continued to inspire artists and poets. The scientific community had long ago classified and catalogued it, noted its atypical coloration and odd spatial geometry, then moved on to some new mystery. The souls of artists from a hundred worlds had been far less fickle and, from Andoria to Tellar to old Earth itself, many regarded it as the most spectacular of all the galaxies innumerable creations. Geoff looked at it scornfully, desperate for anything upon which to vent his anger and grief, but the stars themselves were unmoved. An impossible chill seemed to suffuse the cabin and Geoff found himself reaching out for the blanket as if in a trance, unable to stop himself from wrapping the thick soft wool around his shoulders like a shawl.
He sat there for a time in silence. How long was not a matter of seconds or minutes or hours, or any banal form of time keeping that could be expressed with the use of a timepiece. The time was as long as it had to be, as grief and loss and the pain of tragedy threatened to overwhelm him in silence. When at last he stood and the tears that had silently run down his face were spent he'd grown warm in the blankets gentle embrace and part of him knew it was time, at last, to say goodbye to his friend.
Standing and turning towards the transporter controls, he considered again the words she'd asked him to speak aloud at this moment. Geoff knew they came from an ancient blessing that her people had passed down from one generation to the next and could feel the truth in them, even if he struggled to accept it for himself. His hand moved towards the controls but hesitated and his shoulders slumped.
"Why?" he said to the air...or to the urn...or to the vast indifferent universe, "You didn't deserve this. You deserved decades of love and peace and comfort. You deserved to be honored...to be recognized. To be seen and heard and celebrated." His voice was horse with emotion. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you needed me. When you needed one more miracle. When you needed a friend at the end of all things. I'm...I'm so sorry."
Geoff sobbed, an exhausted and desperate longing for absolution consuming his heart and burning within his mind. He raged, furious at a universe that could be so cruel and random, so capricious with its gifts and so generous with its miseries. He mourned for his friend and for her family, for those she'd left behind and for those wonders she'd never get to experience. And finally, at last, he allowed himself to feel it all. All the shame and pain he'd stacked upon his soul. All the awful self-recriminations and illogical guilt that he had lashed himself with since discovering that his friend had gone and he remained. Then something strange happened.
A warmth suffused him, as if the blanket resting on his shoulders had settled deeper around his spirit and become a balm upon his very soul. And he felt her. Felt her kind, knowing smile. Felt her compassion as a light which gently banished the darkness within him and gently chided him, as she always had, for imposing grief upon himself that she never would've wished for him. Guilt was transmuted to understanding and agony made way for acceptance as her last gift to him sealed the breach within his soul from which he'd been invisibly bleeding to death.
His shoulders straightened and the pallor of grief began fading from his face as he took a deep breath, at last prepared to say his final farewell to someone he'd come to cherish and respect. His hand went to the transporter controls and when he spoke, his borrowed and ancient words were calm and clear.
"If you've come to the end...you've only found another beginning. Goodbye...my friend."
The transporter whined and the urn shimmered blue and white, vanishing a moment later to begin its infinite journey through the majesty of the Pillars. Geoff returned to the viewport and watched the canister drift away until he could no longer make it out against the towering bands of color and light and when he closed his eyes, he saw her smile written across those very same stars. He finally understood why she'd asked this of him and thanked his friend, one final time, for the warmth she had once again shared with him when he most needed it. When at last Geoff turned the runabout for home he was changed. Transmuted through the crucible of grief and loss, his friend had helped him find a new beginning as her last act of charity. It was a gift he'd cherish for as long as he lived.
-For Mandy
-
16
-
Quote
What she wouldn't give for an army of tribbles, just to chuck at his crazy-eyed stupid face. The tribbles would multiply faster than he could shoot them. Taken out by floof. Way more than he deserved.
It's that level of compassion and empathy that makes @Talia Ohnari such an exemplary medical officer.
-
1
-
2
-
-
42 minutes ago, Talia Ohnari said:
I debated saying it was "Standard Starfleet issue, so there is only a 40 of something called Mad Dog 2020"
But I'm kind of hoping they outlawed that before it could come down to it....
My disappointment is immeasurable
-
3
-
-
4 hours ago, Nolen Hobart said:
How many Datas are involved
A Fistful, naturally.
-
4
-
-
- Popular Post
- Popular Post
I'd be remiss if I let this whole beautiful gag go by without recognition. Ensign Hobart's dreadful condition has led to a hilarious series of sims that's been a great reading. A well done to all involved.
================================================================================================
((Interior, Sickbay, Deck 3, USS Arrow))
Hobart: ::trying to sit up:: The thuddewbay! Bower'th thtiw oud!
He tapped at his combadge, but missed at first, due to his numbed digits. At another attempt, he heard a reassuring chirp. His uniform jacket might be done for, but at least that still worked. He thought.
Hobart: Hobarb do Enthineerin. ::nothing, a frustrated grunt:: Hobarb do Enthineerin! ::pulls combadge off angrily, looks at it:: Gueth idth broken.
He smacked his lips. The pressure was decreasing, if slowly. As the two women laughed at his expense, he wondered what time it was, and whether this horrible day was close to an end.
Perim: ::chuckling:: I am sorry... What about engineering? I'll make the call!
Ohnari: Maye try hand gestures...?
With a nod to the doctor, Nolen raised his uninjured hand to the level of his face and opened and closed it repeatedly. He narrowed his eyes at Cadet Perim and fixed them on hers. He had no telepathic powers, but if ever there was a moment to suddenly and heroically develop them, this would be it.
Hobart: ::tongue clacking:: Tha bowa in tha thudderpay ith thdill offawyme.
This was not it.
Perim: Waffles? Don't we better call the mess hall for that?
Gritting his teeth, Nolen formed a wedge with the same hand, and slapped it to the top the biobed.
Hobart: ::deadpan, attempting to annunciate:: We bwew tha thirkut. Thuddles aww thduck.
Perim: ::sudden excitement:: Of course, the power junction. I'll notify them! You stay here!
Hobart: Yeh, thoor. I thday here.
Ohnari: See? I told you the hand gestures would work.
Despite his best efforts to restrain them, Nolen's eyes rolled circuitously before meeting Dr. Ohnari's.
Perim: I'll get down there and help with the cleanup - without touching any power related parts.
Ohnari: Yes, please do avoid those until we are sure they aren't going to reach out and bite anyone else. Temperamental things, those power parts.
Nolen nodded eagerly and pointed to Ensign Ohnari.
Hobart: Imfowm Wewdennan Dewidd.
The Lieutenant should have already been aware, but an explanation couldn't hurt. So long as Perim avoided undue self-recrimination. The important thing was getting the ship's systems back online, he knew, consideration of how they came to be offline was of secondary concern.
Jenna looked at Nolen once again in concern and squeezed his arm lightly. He inhaled sharply and sighed, resigned to occupy the biobed for a bit longer.
Perim: You get better soon! I obviously need that engineering tutoring. ::to Ensign Ohnari:: Thank you, doctor!
Ohnari: Of course, you be safe, Cadet! ::turning back:: How are we feeling? Your tongue should be a little more adept at that speech thing now. Although if you want to express your "wub" for me again, I'm all for it.
Perim left the biobed and - just before exiting sickbay - turned around again to give Nolen one last smile. Nolen gave her a thumbs up, glad she could get her mind onto a different task.
That's when Ohnari gave him a playful nudge. He tried stretching his tongue as he strained to recall when he had said "wub." Might as well roll with it.
Hobart: Beddah. ::Raising his eyebrows:: It'th becauth I wub you dad I donb howb dith again' you. ::wink::
Ohnari: ::smirking:: Just kidding. I promise to only bring it up about....seven more times before I let it go. But your vitals look good, it appears you do have a moderate allergy to the basic analgesic cocktail, so I'll be sure to update your chart.
Nolen nodded. With the Cadet gone, Ensigns Hobart and Ohnari were left alone with the chirping and trilling of various medical devices and instruments around him. As she updated his chart, he was content to languish in the pause's calm.
Until he wasn't. This was boring.
Hobart: ::grinning, sort of:: Mighd nod ged a bedder pfanth ad thith, Doc. Know any good dongue dwithders? Or, perhabth... ::eyebrows waggling suggestively:: thum muthicaw theader?
He didn't give her a chance to object.
Hobart: ::puffing up his chest, feigning pomp, singing loudly:: I am tha very modew of a modern mador Generwaw! I've information vegedabew, animaw, an' minewaw! ::deep breath:: I know tha khins opf Enkhlan', an' I quode the fighdth hithdoricaw, from Marathon do Waderwoo, in order cadekhoricaw!
TAGS/End for Hobart
———
Ensign Nowem Hobard
Enthineerin Othither
Yu Eth Eth Arrow (NCC-69829)
A240001NH3Reply allReply to authorForward-
2
-
1
-
2
-
- Popular Post
- Popular Post
Those first few scenes as a new player are always intimidating and, in this case for Mr. Hobart, doubly so because he's on the Bridge a few hours after showing up. Still he manages to jump right in and contribute with some wonderful characterizations and observations, along with some follicular humor, starting our Act 3 off on a great note. Well done Ensign!
========================================
((Deck One, Bridge, USS Arrow))
Commander Niac leaned back in discomfort in the command chair on the Bridge, before rising to survey the assembled and assigned crew. Hobart in his own kind of discomfort, tucked away into the proverbial corner of a round-ish room, fell back onto his accidental mantra. It was something he took to saying in Academy simulations, when he found himself in a place like this. The simulations were all contrived to find a way to make cadets of varying specialties all act together as bridge crew. Every bit of his training, every component system he memorized, every tool he learned, had him situated if not in the beating heart of Main Engineering, then somewhere in a Jefferies tube, which from inside felt a bit like a ship’s digestive tract. But every major simulation had him situated right where he was, at the stern of the bridge, looking at a screen, his hands very much grease-free. Every time, Nolen's expression became a little more exhausted, a little more exasperated. But here, on the Arrow, where the stakes were real, he couldn’t muster such chutzpah. Accordingly, he only mouthed the words: "But what does an engineer do on the bridge?" He was about to find out.Niac: Lieutenant Commander Collins, Lieutenant Jg. Ayemet, you're going to be our eyes and ears while the away team is offship. I need you to squeeze everything you can out of our passive sensors. I want to keep track of the team and I don't want us to get snuck up on. Any questions?
Collins/Ayemet: Response
As Niac began his round of the bridge crew, Hobart stared at the panel in front of him. Thrusters only, shields offline, weapons powered down, life support and air circulation at a minimum. It was a blessing that the lights and displays themselves wouldn't create too much "noise," so they could be left un-dimmed. The air was still fresh enough, but Hobart knew as they settled in, things would begin to get stale. With any luck, the Captain's excursion would be brief.
oO And “successful,” of course. Don’t forget “successful.” Oo
Niac: Understood, give me as much warning as you can.
Karrod nodded and turned his attention towards their helmsman, Cadet Jenna Perim. Nolen wondered which sadistic instructor assigned her to this ship for her cruise.
Niac: Cadet Perim, confirm we're in position relative to the asteroid and the facility. Once we're set, I want you to start plotting warp trajectories out of the system and back to the Proteus ring. ::Karrod tried a reassuring smile:: You think you're up for that, Cadet?Hobart's black eyes danced around the map of the ship as he mused to himself about which sections were about to become very cold, and which very sweaty. The Bridge, he estimated with relief, would be closer to the former. As Nolen's father put it: you can always put more layers on. He did not envy Lieutenant J/G Dewitt, though, nor the smell that would undoubtedly await him on his return to Main Engineering. In the brief span of time between his arrival on the ship and his assignment to his current station, Ensign Hobart had only barely had a chance to drop off his belongings in his new quarters, drink a glass of water, and briefly meet a very busy man who seemed to have only just arrived out of the Academy a week or so before he did. The fact that Dewitt had already secured his half-pip was bewilderingly impressive, and Nolen wondered exactly where the Lieutenant got off setting such impossibly high standards for the rest of the crew.
Perim: Response
Karrod fought to keep a smirk off his face and turned his attention towards the last and newest member of their team, Ensign Nolen Hobart. The hairs on the back of Nolen's neck tingled as an image of looming anthropomorphized facial hair in a command uniform filled his mind.
Niac: Ensign Hobart, welcome to the bridge. You'll be responsible for monitoring our power systems and making sure we're not leaking any detectable emissions. We don't want to trigger those facility defense batteries. That said, I want us ready to power up and get underway on a moment’s notice. Think you can handle all, Ensign?
Hobart: ::raised voice:: Aye, sir, not a scrape nor squeak, Commander Bea— ah, Commander Niac. Sir.
Hobart kept his back to the ship's Executive Officer, ostensibly to continue to monitor the ship’s systems. Had the ship's lights been dimmed, he imagined that his face, glowing as hot embers, would have drawn more attention no matter which way he stood. In this precise moment, he envied Lieutenant Dewitt a great deal. Karrod straightened up in the Chair and tapped at his commbadge.
Niac: =/\= Niac to Shayne. Captain, we're all set up here. =/\=
Shayne: =/\= Understood. Standby for our launch. =/\=
Niac: =/\= Aye sir, good hunting. You're clear for departure. Arrow will be standing by waiting for you. Good luck, Captain. =/\=
Shayne: =/\= Thank you, Commander. =/\=
The comm closed and Karrod turned his attention back towards the bridge. The viewscreen showed the barren, pitted surface of broken stone stretched off into the darkness all around them. After a few minutes of relative silence, Karrod spoke aloud, half to himself and half to the bridge as a whole.
Niac: Guess I should've brought a deck of cards.
This caused Nolen to turn around, his face finally under control and un-blushed. Out the main viewscreen he saw the vast surface of their shelter against prying Sheliak sensors, a slash of barren rock against the dark void of space, and felt for a moment as if he was back home. An Engineer on the Bridge, he realized, if nothing else, got a real good look.
Collins/Ayemet/Perim: Response
With his eyes finally filled, Hobart turns back to his station, focused on making sure things stayed good and quiet. He tapped, rhythmically, cycling through the different powered down systems, arranging them for reactivation in the most efficient sequence possible. Somewhere from the dark recesses of his mind, antiquated cultural artifacts echoed.
Hobart: ::whispering absentmindedly, with a Scottish lisp:: One… ping… only…
Any: Response
Tags/TBC— — —
Ensign Nolen Hobart
Engineering Officer
U.S.S. Arrow (NCC-69829)
A240001NH3
-
5
-
1
Captain Addison MacKenzie - Trauma
in Appreciations
Posted
Jeeze you torture someone in a cave one time and you never hear the end of it
Great sim @Addison MacKenzie - reminds me of simpler days gone by.