Karrod Niac
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Posts posted by Karrod Niac
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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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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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Why am I not surprised Sevo punched a dinosaur. Very on brand.
great sim!
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((OOC: I find one of the most interesting challenges in our format to be creating 'small moments' within the bigger arc of a plot that's going on, and it's why I think this sim deserves particular praise. Alieth has, in a few exquisitely poignant lines, established the simple lives and tragic deaths of nearly half a dozen characters, adding enormous emotional resonance to a scene and using a facet of her Vulcan character in a way I've rarely seen executed so beautifully. Bravo!))
((Sickbay, Deck 10, USS Thor, Five Hours & Fourty Seven Minutes until QSD Overload))
The patient's breathing was laboured, difficult and arrhythmic inspirations with a wet murmur underneath. His eyelids fluttered like frightened birds, but the few times his eyes opened wide, his empty gaze didn't focus on any particular thing, just minute pupils wandering through a ceiling he couldn't see.
Alieth didn't need to check out the data that the biobed was screeching. Instead, she just sat on her bedside, placing the padd in her lap.
She took his only hand between her tiny ones. And waited.
First, she felt his pain, a searing, excruciating sensation that no modern medication could entirely mitigate.
And then, there was the fear.
oO I am here. I am with you. Oo
oO You are not alone. Oo
She held his hands until his chest dropped one last time. Until the last swirl of his mind faded into nothingness, the spark of what had been him gone forever.
His name was Raphael Watanabe. He was twenty-six years old.
He loved dogs.
Four days ago he had managed to convince his roommate to adopt one. Since then, he had spent most of his free time looking for the perfect pup.
Eventually, he had decided in favour of a sad-eyed white adult with an even sadder past.
He wanted to call her Cheesecake.
She let her rigid fingers slip through hers and recovered the padd from her lap. With a mechanical gesture she had performed too many times in the last few hours, she introduced his profile info in the database. And the stardate and hour of the demise.
The Vulcan's shoulders sank an extra micron. She wouldn't forget Raphael Watanabe.
Just as she wouldn't forget any of the others.
All the minds she had last reached out to, to give them some comfort in the very last moments, when there was nothing else she could do.
As Thiri zh'Poltal, Petty Officer, 2nd Class, Operations. Today was her day off, but when the disaster struck, she had run to help.
Or like Astrid Wethern. Fourteen years old, she was part of the civilian contingent. She had joined the crew in Ferenginar to accompany her father to find out if she was going to be an astrophysicist or a holonovelist when she grew up. For the brief time that the two had shared their minds, Alieth was sure that she would have excelled at both activities.
Or like T'Lar, an assistant in the xenobiology department, whose name meant "lady blue desert bird". Alieth had arrived too late, and when she had checked her status, she had already passed away. She was 115 years old and her katra had been lost forever, the experiences of a lifetime vanished in an instant. At homeworld, she had 3 children and 8 grandchildren.
Cammy Jackstadt would have been 43 in 78 days. Warrant Officer in Engineering. She had suffered major damage to the back of her head and her last thoughts were very disjointed. For some reason, her injured mind repeated over and over again a memory of a summer in Idaho. It had been so intense that Alieth had almost felt the breeze caressing her skin and still had in her mouth the flavour of the fruit that Cammy had shared that day with her best friend.
Porter Solari, a nurse, had died just minutes before Jackstadt. He was 23 years old and his maternal grandmother had been a Romulan. During shoreleave, Alieth had issued a recommendation for him to go to Starfleet Medical School. He could have been one of the finest doctors in the fleet due to his selflessness and compassion. He had died in the belief that everything that had happened was a nightmare and that he would soon wake up and be able to take the shuttle back to Earth. Alieth had been unable to comfort him, and he had died scared and confused.
Alieth halted her steps and leaned, for the briefest of moments, on the sill of one of the windows. The strange blue light from the sub-space travel bathed her hollow-eyed face, rendering her visage strange and tired. Her fingers clasped the padd tightly. Much more than needed. But this way her hands didn't shake.
That brief quiet moment evaporated with the hissing of the door, which heralded the entry of the two red-collared officers. Alieth pulled herself together as best she could, stretched out her wrinkled uniform by grabbing the hem of her jacket and stepped closer to them with strides more resolute than she really felt. Her left hand kept gripping the padd firmly, but otherwise she wore the hieratic Vulcan indifference façade. She couldn't afford to let her unemotional mask crack. Not at that moment.
Alieth: (nodding sternly) Acting Captain Geoffrey John Teller, Lieutenant Commander García.
Quen: Response
Teller: Doctors - have you made any progress on the...::Geoff shrugged over towards the isolation lab::...mass?
Quen: Response
The Vulcan kept silent and listened to her colleague's explanations. The Bajoran woman had spent all her time on that case, while Alieth attended to those left behind after the evacuation, so she knew little to nothing about the.... mass.
Garcia: Response
Teller: I see. Ensign Wilkins, you were orchestrating the first Marine team that was attacked - what are your impressions of the device we're dealing with? Anything could be useful at this point.
Wilkins: Response
Quen: Response
Once again, Alieth listened and said naught. Her eyes wandered from her feet to the stasis field and from there to the padd she was holding in her hands. She unlocked it one more time, moved the report of the fatalities to the background with a miniscule grimace and logged on to the medical database. For a short while, the only sound that came from the Vulcan-shaped shade was the faint tap-tap-tap of her fingers on the screen.
Garcia: Response
Teller: That's helpful, thank you. I've got Lt. Cmdr. Brodie working with Lt. Lovar on a way to disentangle the mine from our innards, and our Security and Marine personnel are attempting to reinforce the QSD core, which appears to be this devices ultimate objective. Our goal is to neutralize, hinder, harass or otherwise annoy the biological components of this device enough so we can excise it from the hull without being attacked again. This is an open forum - no idea too crazy, so speak freely. By my count, we've got just over five and half hours left - so lets get into it.
Wilkins: Response
Alieth: The closest thing I find in the computer memory is an encounter with Quasi-energy microbes in 2369. These are life forms that exist simultaneously as matter and energy, sir.
Quen: Response
Garcia: Response
Wilkins: Response
Teller: Response
Alieth: (with exhausted voice) It is possible, sir, but it seems much more complex to the eye.
Quen: Response
Garcia: Response
Wilkins: Response
Teller: Response
Tag & TBC
==============================
=== Lt. JG Alieth
Medical Officer
USS Thor NCC-82607
Fleet Captain A. Kells, CommandingAuthor ID number: E239702A10
==============================
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I think this situation highlights where our format can produce some incredible and dramatic storytelling - @Wes Greaves invoked these very accessible and believable newlywed officers in his first sim (The Cost, below) and I was immediately struck by the personal nature of the storytelling within the context of a larger disaster aboard ship. I spoke to him over Discord and, with his blessing, built upon his start. Lets hope things work out for these two
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Congratulations to all the exceptional people from around the fleet who show us, through actions and attitude, how to be the best there is. To my fellow vikings, @Wes Greaves, @Addison MacKenzie & @Ben Garcia I offer the heartiest congratulations - in the short time we've been a crew I have gotten to see greatness from all of you. I cannot wait to see what the year ahead brings for all of us!
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My sincerest congratulations to each and every one of you. The amount of work you do, born of your generosity and desire to build something wonderful, is truly staggering. As a fleet, we're tremendously lucky to have you. As individuals, it's a pleasure and an honor getting to write with you. Yours is the example we're proud to follow. Thank you all!
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29 minutes ago, Jo Marshall said:The Rising Star Award
For members who show great promise in many facets of their participation in the group, and to whom we look to as a future leader.
Geoffrey Teller, USS Thor
Presented by Aron Kells: "The folks who nominated Brian (Teller) for this award wrote a combined total of over 2500 words in support of this year's Rising Star. Many of those highlighted the responsibilities he's taken on over the past year, including as the acting XO and then CO of the USS Diligent for a mission on the Veritas, and then the masterful job he's done as the XO of the Duronis II Embassy and, currently, the Thor. It's even more appropriate that Brian was also last year's Luminary Award winner, as that award recognizes one member per year who shows extreme promise in their SB118 career, but who is ranked lieutenant or under.
His dedication, support, mentorship, and involvement have been recognized by all around him, from SB118's guiding councils to the ensigns onboard the Thor. In fact, a group of ensigns approached me unsolicited to sing Brian's praises, noting, among other positive qualities, that he's cheerful, shows a strong work ethic, and is always able to engage simmers who don't know where to go next.
A few of his nominators wanted to celebrate "Future Captain" Teller with this award, but I don't think they went far enough -- so please join me in celebrating "Future Admiral" Teller, this year's Rising Star!"
I am humbled and staggered to be honored in such a way, and count myself lucky once again to have found such an incredible community. To everyone who is taking a ribbon home, you have my sincerest congratulations. Your contributions to the fleet are enormous and I can only hope to keep up with the incredible example you've set.
To me, an award like this is a reminder of how vital and vibrant our community is, and the awesome opportunity I've been given to help people from all over the world tell their stories.
It is, truly, an honor. Thank you all for continuing to be the most wonderful community I've ever found on 'net.
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59 minutes ago, Sal Taybrim said:
@Geoffrey Teller - You know, if I had a wishlish of 'people I would like to sim with' you would be at the top. I hope we get to write together someday!
I'm flattered - I'd absolutely love to write with you as well - we might need to have the Thor stop by Ops for some shoreleave in the near future!
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Absolutely fantastic to see such an incredible group of award winners this year! Congratulations to everyone, you’ve brought yourself and your ships great honor!
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Great scene guys, I'm glad everyone is having as much fun with it as I am! 
Graduating Class of 239801.20
in Graduation Hall
Posted
Welcome to the fleet @tahna.meru!