[(MSNPC) Park Warden M'ira - "I Love You Too"]

Why am I not surprised Sevo punched a dinosaur.  Very on brand.    

 

great sim!  

[Lt. JG Alieth - Toll]

((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, Commanding

Author ID number:  E239702A10  

=================================

[Specialist Elizabeth Walsh - On My Birthday?]

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   

 

[Day Four: Duty Post Awards]

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!  

[Day Three: Staff Awards]

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!  

[Day Two: Length of Service & Special Awards]

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.  

[Day One: General Awards]

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!   

[Day One: General Awards]

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!   

[Lieutenant Commander Ben Garcia - Calling home]

((OOC:  I think this small, personal scene has a tremendous amount of warmth and heart.  The characters are wonderfully familiar and the whole tone of the thing is pitch perfect to me.  Great job, @Ben Garcia))

 

(( Ben calls home from his quarters 05-1202, U.S.S. Thor. ))

Samantha: Where are you? The room looks smaller? Ben?

Garcia: Hi mama.

Samantha: (Shouting over her shoulder.) Thom! Thoooaaaaaom!

Thomas: (Muffled in the background.) Always the rush! (Shouting.) Coming!

Samantha: I read the email Ben – is there two ships now? Both named Thor?

Garcia: I’m on the Thor now. The crew got reposted from the Embassy to the Menthar Corridor – we took the Thor with us. The posting is ship bound now, ma.

Thom cut across the frame, blocking the screen with his hip.

Thomas: I’m here, I’m here.

Samantha: (To Thom.) He’s on the ship, it’s moved. They’ve left the planet behind. Oh the beach Thomas … we’ll have to plan something else now.

Ben craned in towards the screen.

Garcia: Hi?

Samantha pulled her husband onto the settee. The surprise of the weight nudged Samantha’s pillows making her head wobble.

Thomas: Alright Ben, I’m here.

Samantha: (To Thom.) He’s in a corridor, that’s why the room is small. (To Ben.) Right Ben?

Garcia: No, we got re-assigned to the Thor permanently and we travelled to the Menthar Corridor.

Thomas: Which is …?

Garcia: A region of space between the Cardassian Union, Breen Confederacy and Tholian Assembly –

Samantha: (To Thom.) Is he at war – is our Ben at war?! (To Ben.) Is this war Ben?

Garcia: No, nothing like that ma.

Thomas: (Shaking his head.) Let him speak Samantha.

Anger and worry crimped across Samantha’s face.

Samantha: I knew this would happen. I said – I don’t want Ben in a war.

Garcia: The Thor is an exploration vessel. There’s no more trouble here than where you are ma – don’t worry. (Ben laughed.) It’s busier and there’s a lot going on – but it’s just folks going about their business.

Samantha clasped her hands on her knees. She was less agitated now, but the worry of combat had unsettled her. She shuffled to the edge of the couch and then stood up.

Samantha: I need a drink. (Nodding to Thom to keep the conversation going.)

Thomas: So, how has the reassignment gone? Settled in?

Garcia: It’s a gear change from being planet side. (Beat.) For all my uncertainties about being stationed on a planet right out of the Academy … I sort of miss it.

Thomas: Understandable, son.

Garcia: We’ve got the hollo-deck. But. Before, I had the gardens, the beach, the forest (Ben’s eyes widened.) continents.

Thomas: We’ll it makes sense, it’s a planet Ben.

Ben huffed in amused exasperation.

Garcia: Paps.

Thomas: So, you’re not settled?

Ben shook his head and touched the back of his neck.

Garcia: It’s not that. I wanted a ship, I got a planet. (Ben shrugged.) Now I’ve got the ship

Thomas finished the sentence in unison with Ben.

Thomas: -- you want the planet.

Garcia: I want the planet.

The pair laughed. There was a warmness.

Thomas: It’s just change, Ben. It’ll settle.

Garcia: I know. Cheers pa.

Samantha’s voice could be heard from off in the background. As she got nearer, the hmmm and duuumm of her tune came into focus.

Garcia: (Loudly, with a wink to his dad.) There was some news, pa.

Samantha: (Calling from the back of the room) News? Ben –what news? Hold on –

Thomas shook his head and wagged a finger in feigned rebuke at Ben. Now Thomas’ head wobbled as Samantha surprised the couch with her weight.

Samantha: (With arched eyebrows.) News? Come on! Let’s hear.

Ben ran his finger along his collar, stopping at the new half pip.

Samantha: (Her eyes widening.) Promotion?!

Thomas cusped his ear as Samantha screamed.

Thomas: Well done Lieutenant ...

There was a pause and Ben filled in the blank.

Garcia: … Commander pap.

Samantha: (Punctuating the sentence with her hands.) Lieutenant Commander Ben Garcia.

Samantha clasped her hands together and kissed Thomas on the cheek. Thomas gave her a squeeze back.

Samantha: We need to organise a celebration! Let me pull the diary up.

Ben sat back in his chair. Thomas smiled.

End.

----------------------

Lieutenant Commander Ben Garcia
Second Officer/HCO

USS Thor NCC-82607
Author ID number: G239102MR0

SB118 News Team

[Captain Henley Marths - The Talk We Had To Have]

((OOC:  A splendid tale of piracy on the high space seas courtesy of @Wil Ukinix & the Veritas!))

((Bridge, SS Somershire))

Tygin: ::smiling her wicked smile:: Octotriticale...::holding up two fingers:: 400,000 tonnes of it...plus enough equipment to start our own farming colony.

Marths: They’re carrying *what*?

Tygin: ::raising a brow:: ...grain...::placing her hands on her hips:: it makes the flour you fry your chicken in. ::taking a breath:: it's 3 bars a ton.

A rare open mouthed smile slowly presented itself on the poultry-fanatic’s face, before he chuckled.  “Octotriticale” was the cutting edge successor to Quintotriticale. Long transportation times in the Shoals along with a lack of suppliers made it a highly valuable commodity. 

Marths: ::Pointing at Elliot:: Finish what you’re doing! ::Looking back at Peregrine, smiling::  No wonder Captain Vodka was protecting it so well.  Fill up as much of our storage areas on the ship as you can.  As quick as you can!  Beam it, carry it, I don’t care, just get it done.

He walked over to Bonus, and then firmly patted him on the shoulder.

Marths: My sources weren’t kidding when they said “juicy cargo”.

Tygin: ::Rubbing her hands together:: Juicy! Cap'n if Chek can give us our standard rate, you could retire.

Marths: oO You are part of my retirement plans, buttercup... you just don't know it yet Oo

Manstead: :: sarcastic. :: Yippee.

Tygin:::Hooking a thumb over her shoulder:: I say we strip this sucker down to the plasma coils, make for Eagle station and live like Kings for a month or seven.

Marths: I’m not sure about retirement just yet, but… this will go a long way.  ::To Peregrine:: Strip whatever will fit into the Wildfire, if we have room.

Manstead: You only have so much cargo space on the ship, captain.

Marths: ::Wicked smile:: Then we’ll put whatever we can into engineering.

Tygin:::offering a mock salute:: Aye Cap'n, number 32 with Chintapa Sauce, coming up.

Manstead: Don’t even think about it, Pear.

Tygin:::smirking:: Relax bubble boy, I'm not gonna hurt anyone, much, just throw a few people into some  life pods. ::smiling:: ill intimate where I can and only bruise who I have to.

Marths: Hey!  ::Walking closer to Tygin:: This haul is going to attract attention as it is.  *Don’t kill anyone*.

Tygin:::growling:: Cap'n, come on let an artist work, you would tell a rainbow to stop being a rainbow or tell a tiger to color in their strips, ::spinning:: such is the Erinyes!

Marths: ::Pointing at Peregrine:: You are as beautiful as your deadly, but don’t think that will stop me beaming you out into space!

Manstead: Oh shut up...

The Marth, without taking his eye of Peregrine, smacked Elliot perfectly on the back of his head.

Tygin:::crossing her arms:: Don't be a punch of party poopers, come on Cap'n this is what we do, we are Pirates.

Marths: “Pirates”?  Don’t use that word!  We’re “brokers”.  With an anarchic supply chain methodology.  *That do not kill unless absolutely necessary*.  If any of the crew tells me that you critically injure or kill someone?  Well, you’d better hold your breath when the transporter cycle starts, buttercup.

And he meant it.  Peregrine already had a black mark next to her name.  Beautiful or not, and as infatuated with Tygin as he was, he only had one *real* true love – his ship.  She came first.

Tygin:::sulking:: No, I want my share of the loot...::clenching her fists:: Fine...I'll be nice ::holding a finger up:: but if one of them back talks me...

Marths: …then slap them in the face.  ::grinning:: Works for me.

Manstead: Just do what he says.

Tygin: ::mock saluting:: Aye, Cap'n! I'll go see to our guests and make them feel all warm'n'safe.



((Galley, Deck 4, SS Wildfire – three hours later))

The fully loaded SS Wildfire was stationary in a harmless, partially obscuring spatial anomaly, and thanks to The Marth’s special CCMS “friend” (in a latinum in a brown paper bag kind of way), no-one would be looking for them anywhere near their location for at least 10 hours.  It gave them time to repair damage to the ship made by the new cloak.

It also gave them time to celebrate…

While tying up the knot on the bandana that The Marth wore on his head (with very small cartoon like chickens imprinted on it), he walked into the packed Galley.  Most of the crew were assembled, talking loudly, eating (crumbed chicken pieces) and drinking from bottles of rum pilfered from the Swishbuckle.  Chef Donovan was madly handing out plates of finger food (chicken Cordon Bleu bites) to several crew, who were distributing them to tables.  There was a raucous, happy atmosphere that could be cut with a phaser. 

The Marth stood up on one of the tables, to the cheers of the crew that were sitting at it.  He picked up a piece of food (chicken puff) from a plate below him.  Taking an exaggerated bite, he then kept walking, moving from table to table until he was standing on a table in the centre of the Galley.  Having quickly *demolished* the chicken puff, he clapped his hands together, then placed his curved palms together over his mouth, speaking through his makeshift megaphone.

Marths: Crewmates!  Crewmates! … ::Loud whistle using teeth::

Tygin/Manstead: Responses

The noise in the room died down to a silence.

Marths: Crewmates…. We are the misfits from the ::finger quotes:: “society” that forgot about us, judged us, exiled us, enslaved us.  But today, we’ve proven… THAT THEY SHOULD UNDERSTIMATE US AT THEIR OWN PERIL!

The sound of a loud cheer with the thumping of tables filled the room, before The Marths lifted his palms to quiet everyone down.

Marths: Some of you are new, and, you know, some of you have been with me since the start.  It’s amazing to think it’s been eleven years since I got my hands on this ship.  We’ve had triumphs, and troubles.  Today has been a busy day.  But after our two raids, not only are our storage areas *completely* full… on both decks... our estimates indicate that, this is has been… ::inhales:: THE MOST VALUABLE HAUL IN THE HISTORY OF THIS SHIP!!!  RECORD PAYMENT TO EVERYONE!!!

The cheers and table banging noises of the crew became ear splitting.

Tygin/Manstead: Responses

He held up his palms again, to quieten the crew.

Marths:  However, ::walking over two tables while speaking:: it’s not been without incident.  ::Standing on table in front of Tygin:: Everyone knows the rules on this ship.  If you have a problem with someone, report it to The Marth, and then between the parties, to resolve the dispute… we organise a fight in this room during supper. So that everyone can watch and bet on the winner. 

There was a short, loud cheer once again from the crew.  For many, watching and gambling on the crew fights were the most enjoyable activity on the ship.
 
Marths:  But… unfortunately… ::crouching down, eying Tygin, while crew begins to jeer:: someone took matters into their own hands today.

The jeering from the crew turned into a combination of boos, high pitched whistles, thrown chicken bones and several thousand curse words, all directed at Peregrine.

Manstead: Response

Tygin: Response

Marths: ::Ignoring Peregrine:: What Buttercup must understand is that non-compliance with the rules cannot go unpunished.  ::turning to next table:: Zaphoid?

The young crewmate who had been stabbed in the hand by Peregrine made his way over to the table that Marths was perched on.

In one swift move, The Marth unsheathed the small but very sharp cutlass that he always had stowed in his right wrist band.  He threw it up in the air, allowing Zaphoid to catch it by the handle when it fell back to the ground.  The crew around Peregrine forcefully held Tygin in place, making sure her arm and hand couldn’t move.

Tygin: Response

In one quick movement, Zaphoid thrust the cutlass into the top of Peregrine’s hand, which caused the loudest cheer of the night yet from the crew.

Zaphoid: ::To Tygin:: Now we’re even, ya bloody mongrel.

Tygin/Manstead: Responses

The people that were holding Tygin down all enthusiastically patted her on her shoulders – signalling that she had paid her debt and she was “forgiven”, and to thank her for an entertaining spectacle.

Marths: Baby.  Transport Tygin to the First Aid room.

Tygin/Manstead: Responses

“Buttercup” vanished from the Galley in a swirl of sparkles.  Marths then looked at Zaphoid, and punched him as hard as he could on the jaw, sending him to the ground.  There was another loud enthusiastic cheer from the rest of the crew.

While flexing his hand open and shut, Marths stood back up on the table and addressed the room.

Marths: ::Holding out palms:: Wildfire!  Let’s eat and drink into the small hours! We’ve earned it!

A crewmate in the corner of the Galley began to sing loudly.

Crewmate: ::Singing:: In-Sha-dow’s-Edge I-was-born…

Marths began stamping his foot on his table in time with the tune.  It wasn’t long before most of the crew enthusiastically joined in, banging their drinks and fists on their tables, and singing a shanty that was brought to the Shoals and adapted by some of its early Terran settlers.

Marths/Crew: Heave a-way, haul a-way!

Crewmate: In-Sha-dow’s-Edge, a-round An-tor!

Marths/Crew: And-we're bound for Sha-dow’s Eeee-edge...

Crewmate/Marths/Crew: Haul a-way your roll-ing king, heave a-way, haul a-way, HAUL A-WAY, YOU'LL HEAR-ME-SING! And we’re-bound for Sha-dow’s Eeee-edge…

The singing continued as The Marths bent down to retrieve a bottle of rum that was next to his feet.  He took a big swig from it, before smacking his lips together.

There was nothing like “free” rum.  Especially from Bonnie and Clyde.
 

________________________________________________________

 

Henley “The Marth” Marths

Captain and Rum Thief

SS Wildfire

V239511WU0

[JP: MSNPCs Orh'am & Cth'am "Making The Path"]

((OOC:  The first of two incredible JP's establishing an antagonist for the Thor's current mission, The Lost Colony.  Fantastic alien characterization and perspective work @Alex Brodie & @Alieth!))

 

((Underground Caverns, Vel Maijan))

They moved through the tunnel of the serrated stalagmites. It was a narrow passage they rarely followed, their resources long ago exhausted. But there was something new, something strange there.

The youngest of them halted at the front, rested on his forelegs, and tested the air with the tip of his long tongue. He let the essence pass through the specialized organs inside his mouth during the time it took for the water to drip from the distant roof three times.

Then, and only then, did he emit a series of high-pitched clicks that expressed his excitement

They were on the right track, what they were looking for was in front of them.

The larger of the two followed behind, their ponderous movements slow and deliberate in comparison to their companions more excitable energy. The plates of mineralized skin flexed as they shifted through the network of tunnels that spanned the subsurface. Shifting through the narrow gaps between the rock formations.

Moving into the larger cavern to join their young cohort they were able to stand and stretch - their frame unfurling as they tested the air - familiar, stale. It was unmistakable though, there was something new in the atmosphere. Something rich and powerful...something they hadn’t tasted before.

It had been many cycles since the Scourge had befallen them - though after all this time there was little point in concerning themselves with the past. The present crisis was the priority for the colony.

He emanated a series of clicks as he dragged a claw across the exposed rock-face, scaring the surface and sampling the dust that remained. It wasn’t the most nourishing but would provide some sustenance in the short term. A second clawed swipe dislodged a larger clast, and he broke it in two, passing one to the youngling.

He gnawed at the stone delicately, paused the gesture for a brief moment, and then resumed it shortly, his movements less enthusiastic than they had initially been. A questioning murmur rumbled deep in his throat. A question. And a complaint.

The older Azcou looked at the younger and understood the reaction - but it was all they had.

The smaller one leaned his head to the side and clicked his jaws briefly. The tunnel in front of them sang in reply, its nooks and crannies repeating the older's rhyme. And there, almost at the edge of the echo, was the oddity. The novelty.

The slender creature wriggled a few strides forward, his slender limbs carrying him swiftly and efficiently in the direction of their objective. However, soon he halted, bristling with the thin mineral deposits that covered his body.

The older creature came close behind the younger one, sniffed the air...yes...he could smell it too. It wouldn’t be far now…

The two creatures continued down the dark path - their scales hardening and changing for what was to come. They knew the unknown was a risk...and they also knew there was little alternative.

They must have travelled miles - not that it mattered. The larger Azcou took another sample from the wall and lashed it with his tongue. The marked area began to effervesce and the material began to turn to an amorphous gel.

He clicked and hissed as he saw the look on his fellows face.

Orh’am: Are you going to feed a young baby, Cth'am? ::The younger one's clicks rang out cheeky, but with the playfulness that comes with acquaintance.::

Cth’am: I’m not as young as I once was…neither are my teeth.

Orh'am produced a low, rumbling sound in the lower part of his ribcage, and pursed his lips gently, revealing the sharp set of needle-like teeth that embellished his jaws. 

Orh’am: You still have many cycles left in you, my old friend. The colony needs you. 

The younger one's gurgling had sounded reassuring, but as soon as the silence thickened among them once more, it grew increasingly serious. That was not an expedition for leisure, but rather for need. 

Cth’am: How far do you think to the source?

The smaller one turned his head forward, and repeated the sound again, showing the intricate skein of corridors in front of them. The reverberations built up the complex image in the frontal part of his brain, as clear as if he were seeing them. 

He knew that Orh'am saw the same thing as him, his echolocation senses as sharp as his own and attuned to the same frequencies.

Orh’am: Half a cycle if we follow the tunnels. ::He tilted his head and pursed his lips again::. About a quarter of that time if we open a new one.

The larger Azcou turned his attention to the cave wall...it would take some effort but it would still be faster.

Cth’am: Then we dig.

Orh'am said naught and just wagged his long tail swiftly. The whistle it produced expressed his acquiescence to the plan.

Cth’am unfurled his large frame, his tail extending out behind him as he bent forwards to face the cavern wall. He pulled back and brought a driving slash down across the rack face - the stone splintering and shattering under the blow. 

The younger Azcou lingered behind, sat on his hind legs while he monitored the progress of his more robust and muscle-bound comrade. Once Cht'am had worn himself out, he would take over, progressing quickly through the stone outcropping that stood in their path. There was no time to spare. 

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Written By

 

Ensign Alieth (Orh’am)

Medical Officer

USS Thor NCC-82607

Writer ID:  E239702A10

&

Lt. Cmdr. Alexander Brodie (Cth’am)

Chief Counselor

USS Thor NCC-82607

Writer ID.: A239005BM0

 

[JP: MSNPCs Rick Armiger & Ellen Flynn: EC-31]

((OOC:  A fantastic JP establishing one of the MSNPC 'factions' the Thor is going to encounter during their current mission, The Lost Colony.  My sincerest compliments to @Ben Garcia & @Quen Deena))

 

(( Structural technician team delta completing authorised duties near Vel Maijan Subterra Development Zone  ))

Air hissed, and the aerosol splattered the wall with blue specks. The hiss expired, the can rattled and out shot a thick, crisp stream of blue. The circle was sprayed first. Imperfect, but functional. A stroke left and then a stroke right. That filled the circle with a cross. It had been marked for further measurements. She stood back a moment, checking her tag. The cross was tight and streak free. The circle disappointed her, like always.

Her supervisor called out. She glanced over, held up her free hand and stumbled on the workbag. That’s when the canister fell and rolled.

 She was always diligent. She always took it slow and followed the protocol. They’d done a good job though. They’d worked hard. It was break, and the sup’s joke had made them all laugh. Later, when she’d unravel the bandages and pull back the gauze, she’d guess the laugh had made them all careless.

 She lent down, like anyone might, and grabbed the canister.

 The pain wouldn’t hit her for a few seconds, for there was still her gloves to peel into. It was panic that made her scream. The panic of seeing the canister choke and smoulder as she held it in her hand. She threw it back down - there was not much else she could do now.

 The second scream was pain. She passed out before the third.

 

(( CD’s office, primary medical unit, Vel Maijan Subterra. ))

 Rick bit his stylus as he read the report back.

                         Attending: Rick Armiger, Chief Doctor.

                        Patient: Kassy McBill, Senior Structural Technician

 

                        Summary:

Patient came into contact with biological substance echo-charlie-thirty-one during authorised duties.

Rick tapped the end of his stylus on the desk as he gulped a mouthful of water. Signs of activity this close to Vel Maijan Subterra was worrying.

Rick continued to proof read his report:

Contact resulted in the destruction of the patient’s right thumb, index finger and middle finger. In line with current medical protocol the right hand was amputated to control substance echo-charlie-thirty-one and prevent contagion.

Samples have been collected from the contaminated appendage prior to its transport to the disposal site in line with protocols for managing contact with substance echo-charlie-thirty- .…

A knock at the door flicked Rick’s eyes up from the screen. Outside, Ellen pulled the door open just enough to poke her head in.

Flynn: Now a good time?

Rick pushed his chair back and smiled. It was good to see a friendly face.

Armiger: Grab a seat.

Ellen shifted a heavy box labelled ‘EC-31’ to the floor and sat herself in the newly-vacated chair.

Flynn: How’s Kass?

Armiger: Sedated. (Rick raised his eyebrows.) One conversation I’m happy to put off.

Ellen pressed her palms against her knees, breathing a gasp of equal tension and relief. Finally, a survivor..

Flynn: Alive… (beat) I don’t envy you. She won’t take it well.

Armiger: No. (Rick rolled the stylus along the table.) No she won’t. (Rick took a breath and looked at Ellen.) She’ll adapt. She’ll pull through. She has to.

Flynn: I’d like to talk to her when she wakes up. Maybe she saw something that can give us a clue...

Armiger: Of course. (Rick spoke with compassion.) Let’s give her another hour or two before … (Rick paused.) … before we turn her world upside down, eh?

Ellen tucked a lock of ginger hair behind her ear. She leaned forward in her chair until her elbows met her knees, forehead pressed against her palms as she stared at the floor. She was tired. Tired of fighting something they could not detect, could not see until it was too late - something that took life and limb faster than anything they’d ever seen before.

Flynn: Six fatalities in twelve weeks…  (She sat back up after a moment with a heavy breath.) I’m putting the project on hold.

Elbows on the table, Rick cupped his forehead between his hands. He squoze at the temples. There was no relief. It did not come. Pausing the project would stoke discontent and fan the flames of fear. The project had been a unifying force for the colony. It was something to be hopeful about. Rob them of that and …

Rick took a breath and rubbed his forehead. He sat back now, one hand over the armrest while the other ran through his choppy black hair. Rick rested the hand on the crown of his head as he looked at Ellen huddled on her chair, and then out past her at Kass through the observation window.

Pausing the project bought them time. Maybe Ellen could distract them by upping preparatory work and manufacturing. She’d pulled off such sleight of hand before; she was a shrewd leader and that might buy her enough leeway to weather out this storm - for all of them to get through it.

Armiger: There’ll be some resistance, Ellen. The project. (Rick paused.) It means a lot.

Flynn: I know. There’s no right answer here, Doc. We’ve managed so far, we’ll be fine without the expansion for a while. Have to tighten up the rationing - break up more fights… 

Ellen stared at a chunk of quartz embedded in the rock wall behind Rick. What had been a population of eighty when their grandfathers first went underground now numbered nearly two hundred. Just enough to start outgrowing the cavern they’d originally settled in. Over the past year, teams had been heading deeper in - scouting the best possible route for expansion. It had been going well, until they’d encountered the substance.

Three died on the day they first discovered the foamy, gelatinous, rock-like substance lining the walls of one of the caverns being surveyed: their bodies burned and disintegrated nearly beyond DNA recognition. Subsequent encounters had not yielded better results. Amputation could spare a life, when contact with the substance was limited. Although, with fewer victims living than dead, the longer-term effects remained to be seen...

Flynn: But we can’t keep losing people. There aren’t enough of us to keep fighting this … (gesturing toward the box) thing. And I know you’ll agree with me there. (Beat.) Any closer to figuring out what it is?

Rick followed Ellen’s glance towards the containment box and shook his head. 

Armiger: Beyond the last report? (Rick shook his head sharply.) No. We know it’s highly acidic and contains two distinct bacteria. Jury’s out on the bacteria. (Rick made a humming noise.) The team is of the opinion that whatever the substance is,  it’s not excreted by the rock - it’s being deposited by something. 

Flynn: Keep at it. Sam’s got the transmitter working - still can’t change the message.

Armiger: The team is analysing samples from Kass. We’re pushing hard on this Ellen. We’re trying the experimental procedures on these samples. (Rick shifted in his seat.) We’re going to unpick this. 

Rick paused at the thought of Sam; the last time he saw Sam, that transmitter was getting a kicking. Rick laughed. Security had stepped in at one point citing charges of vandalism. 

Armiger: (Laughing.) Sam finally kicked that thing into submission then? 

Flynn: Kicked, slapped, threatened to sell it for scrap… No idea who he was planning on selling it to - (laughing) he’d have to get it working first!

It was good to see Ellen smile, if only fleetingly. Rick smiled and nodded.

Armiger: Someone might hear it. Let’s hold onto that hope for now. 

Ellen raised her eyebrows.

Flynn: And let’s hold onto the hope that whoever hears it is friendly...

Rick exhaled audibly at the thought of them attracting more hostile attention.  It was a scenario that had been chewed over by the department heads at the colony steering meetings for months. Their repeated cautions had delayed the activation of the transmitter. In that delay, lives had been lost until finally the argument for sending the distress called outweighed the concerns. 

Rick changed the subject.

Armiger: What time is the debrief?

Flynn: Eight.  Sam’ll patch you in if you can’t make it.

Rick looked out at Kass. The sedation kept her unawares of the horror she had yet to wake up to. Eight, Rick repeated it to himself. That only gave Rick the best part of two hours. An hour to check in on the team’s experimental analysis of the EC-31 samples, and then an hour to speak to Kass. That assumed there would be no more inbound incidents to the primary medical unit (PMU) between then and now.

Armiger: I’ll try Ellen, you know that. (Rick noded in the direction of Kass.) I might miss the start.

Ellen pushed herself up out of the chair with a long look out at Kass.

Flynn: Let me know, Doc. I’ll be over at Sam’s.

Armiger: (Rick mustered a smile.) Tell Sam congrats. (Rick paused and clarified.) The transmitter. (Rick’s smile dropped.) Ellen - they’ll understand the pause. They’ll have to.

Rick watched as Ellen left the office. In several paces, she was gone from sight, eclipsed by the ward partition. Rick sat and took a minute. Tonight’s debrief would be tough. The department heads would need some shepherding; it’d be a strenuous meeting. Rick decided to make sure he had as much data available to help Ellen as he could. That meant getting down to the containment lab and checking the team’s progress.

Out in the corridor, Ellen leaned against the wall. Two hours. Two hours to come up with a solid way to break the news about the expansion delay, while simultaneously trying to get the transmitter to broadcast something, anything, other than a seventy-year old distress call. The call was already coming from a man who was long dead - and for all they knew, it was going to a government that no longer existed. 

End.

 

==========================================

Ellen Flynn

Colony Leader 

&

Rick Armiger

Chief Doctor 

 

Simmed by:

Lieutenant Quen Deena (Ellen Flynn)

Medical Officer

USS Thor NCC-82607

E239602QD0

&

Lieutenant Ben Garcia (Rick Armiger)

Second Officer/HCO

USS Thor NCC-82607

Author ID number: G239102MR0

[Lt. Cmdr. Geoffrey Teller - Lullaby]

Snapping awake with a painful groan, Lt. Cmdr. Geoffrey Teller tried to re-orientate himself inside the darkened runabout.  With no internal illumination and only faint starlight filtering through the viewports, the scene slowly resolved as he tried, and failed, to stand.  The runabouts emergency restraints had engaged at some point and, he realized as a loose padd drifted past in zero g and clattered against a dead console, were the only things keeping him from floating freely around the cabin.  Something had gone terribly wrong.  With a deep breath of air that was already tasting stale, Geoff tried to clear his throat but ended up setting off a series of wracking coughs.  

“Report...Tomlinson...J’shon…” his words came out as a rasp and elicited no answer.  After a few moments, it became clear why.  Both officers, strapped to their chairs and still at their stations, weren’t moving.  From where he was, Teller couldn’t tell if they were unconscious or...something worse.  

“Oh, Geoffrey.  Did you hurt yourself playing again?”  A woman's warm, lilting voice seemed to fill the cabin.  Teller’s eyes went wide as they focused on the impossible sight on the viewscreen.  Too shocked to be afraid and too confused for anything cogent, he only managed to croak out a single word.  

“M...mom?”  For a moment, he was again seven years old, having skinned his knee after failing to climb the large oak tree near their home.  It had been a childish bet with his older sister, whose longer limbs and superior coordination meant she had been climbing the tree successfully for several years already.  Never one to back down from a challenge, even at that age, Geoff had made it halfway up before losing his grip and sliding back down, painfully scraping his skin.  His mother had been watching the proceedings from a nearby picnic blanket and had rushed over with kind words and a small civilian dermal regenerator.  

That had been more than twenty years ago, before he’d joined Starfleet, and before his parents had been lost.  Somehow, that thought helped ground his thinking.  The face on the screen remained placid and calm, the picture of maternal compassion.

“But...you died.  Years ago….your ship…”  He was cut off by a very familiar and very maternal clucking.  

“Oh, don’t worry yourself about that, Geoffy,” The voice, and the face, were perfect.  Every inflection, every mannerism, even the way she brushed her hair to one side were exactly as his mother, June, had behaved.  “I’m here now, don’t worry, everything is going to be alright.”  

Teller felt himself slump back in the runabouts chair as globes of moisture floated away from his eyes.  Nothing about this made sense and, in the back of his mind, Geoff began giving serious consideration to the possibility that he was critically injured and just imagining the whole thing.  He tried to turn his attention back to the inert console in front of him.  There had to be a way to get some power back on.  After several failed attempts to bring systems online, Teller thumped his fist against the uncaring composite as the voice gently chided him.  

“Geoffrey, what did I tell you about letting your frustrations distract you?”  His mother had crossed her arms and pursed her lips.  She was clearly expecting him to respond.  

“You’re not real...you’re not real...this is just some kind of...weird brain injury...I need to get back to the ship…”  Teller tried to ignore the voice as he struggled with the seat restraints.  

“Oh, Geoffy, I wouldn’t do….” The warning came a moment too late as he successfully released the restraints and was nearly catapulted into the ceiling.  He flailed without purchase for a few moments before colliding with the roof of the cabin.  “...that.”  

“Well if I didn’t have a head wound before…” Teller rubbed his skull and inspected the cabin as his mother's face looked on, concerned.  Finding a grip, he rotated and pushed off towards the inert form of Lt. Tomlinson, their helmsman.  Without a tricorder he couldn’t tell much, but at least she was still breathing.  He pulled the emergency aid kit from beneath a console but found the equipment inside as inert as the rest of the runabout.  Whatever hit them seemed to have a devastating effect on all their technology.  Geoff spoke aloud, mostly so he could hear something other than his own breathing in the increasingly claustrophobic interior.  

“That’s alright, Tomlinson...you just take it easy...I’ll get us sorted….That’s a Good Job Guarantee…” Geoff tried to work some hope or vigor into his voice but found it lacked for both.  His assurance didn’t impress his other audience either.  

“Are you still using that ridiculous catchphrase, Geoffrey?”  With a smirk, his mother seemed to be needling him slightly, as she so often did when she was alive.  Teller ground his teeth in irritation.  

“Look, I don’t know who you are or what you want, but if you can help, now’s the time.  I’ve got two injured crewmen here.  I’m not sure how long we were out, but the air recyclers aren’t running and what’s in the compartment won’t last.  If you can’t help, kindly shut up and go haunt someone else, I’m busy.”  

“Geoffrey John Teller, that is no way to speak to your mother!”  The image on the screen looked genuinely hurt and, on some emotional level, Teller felt a very real pang of guilt. He turned, sheepishly, to face it.  

“Uh...sorry…it’s just...I’m not sure what to do right now.  I’m not sure what you want...hell, I’m not even sure any of this is real.  For all I know, you could be a symptom of hypoxia and I’m just blathering to myself in a broken ship.”  Oddly, this admission actually helped Teller calm his racing mind slightly.  On screen, his mother was the very picture of maternal concern.  

“It’s alright, Geoffrey, it’s alright.  I’m here for the same reason as always - my son needed me.  Now,” the woman clapped her hands before interlacing her fingers and cracking her knuckles loudly, a habit that had always turned young Teller’s stomach, “you, young man, have to start thinking.  I bet you can find something in that spaceship of yours to take apart.  Just like you took apart everything in the house.  Hopefully this time there won’t be as many parts left over when you put it back together.”  

Geoff was again transported back to childhood, sitting on a kitchen stool and being scolded by his mother for his antics while behind her, his father painstakingly reassembled the home replicator while trying not to grin too openly.  

“The replicator…” With a flash of inspiration, Teller pushed off the console and floated towards the runabouts small replicator.  Like everything else aboard the system was dormant, but Teller was unconcerned.  The model on the runabout had a small shielded power cell for emergencies, and while it seemed like the rest of the system's delicate electronics had been destroyed, the power cell itself appeared intact.  There was no external indicator and no way to check the remaining charge but it was something.  He hoped.  

“Oh, and what do you intend to do with that, Geoffrey?”  By the gentle, suggestive tone in her voice, Teller realized it wasn’t really a question.  It was as if an infant had just brought her a light pen, and she was encouraging them to find something to draw upon.  There was something obvious he was missing, and his head was beginning to throb.  The cabin's air was growing worryingly thin as he exerted himself.  

He considered the questionable power cell, and the small metal tube he was trapped inside.  There were dozens of redundancies, backups, failsafes and emergency systems, but somehow nearly all of them had been rendered useless by this calamity.  He wasn’t going to repair the ship with what he had on hand...or with the time he had left.  

“Remember, Geoffrey, it’s always ok to ask for help when you need it.”  Once again, his mother seemed to be prompting him, but it was getting harder and harder to concentrate.  The cabin, already darkened, was growing more clouded by the minute.  Tugging at the collar of his uniform tunic, his hand brushed against his comm badge and the edge of an idea pushed in against the haze.  

Removing the communicator from his tunic and disassembling it with shaking hands, Teller could see that whatever had damaged the ship had wrought its destruction on the fragile components inside the communicator.  The only element that still seemed intact was the micro-crystalline subspace antenna, a hearty mesh fused with the outer casing of the communicator itself.  

“That’s my clever boy...but you’ll have to hurry.  We don’t have much time left.”  There was an unmistakable tone of urgency in her voice and, as the air continued to sour, Teller was certain why.  At best he had minutes until he blacked out.  

Teller let the useless bits of the comm badge drift away in the cabin as he gripped the precious antenna in his teeth.  He needed both hands to pry the end cap off his reclaimed power cell, leaving only the exposed power leads.  If he was quick, he could tap the housing with the antenna against the leads without destroying it, giving him a brief and very weak subspace pulse.  On his first attempt, he forgot the basics of electricity and shocked himself badly, eliciting a loud and colorful expletive.

“Geoffrey, language!  You’d think I raised a klingon with that mouth of yours!”  His mother's chastisement was entirely genuine and he felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“Sorry mom.”  He no longer cared who or what was on the screen, too fixated on what he was doing to give it another moment's thought.  Pulling off his uniform jacket, he wrapped the sleeve around his hand several times to provide whatever insulation it could, and then began laboriously tapping the comm badge against the leads.  He could see a small electrical arc lighting up the cabin, which gave him some hope that his call was going out.  

Short Tap short tap short tap….oO Please hear me. Oo Long Tap. Long Tap. Long Tap. oO I need help. Oo Short Tap short tap short tap...oO Or we’re so screwed. Oo

“See Geoffrey, I told you everything would be alright.  Now just you rest for a bit and when you wake up, I promise everything will be ok.”  The voice was dreamy and far away, but Geoff felt reassured and calmed, as he always had when his mother tucked him in.  She began gently humming a wordless lullaby from the furthest corners of his memory, filling his chest with warmth even as the rest of him grew cold.  His eyes grew heavier and heavier.  His hands still worked, continuing the sequence of taps against the leads, not even noticing the electrical arcs had all but disappeared.  Eventually, his hands stopped and his eyes closed, and Geoffrey Teller drifted towards the darkness, comfortably aloft on the sound of his mother's voice.  

===

“Sir...sir!  Sir are you alright?  Commander Teller, sir, can you hear me?”  

Snapping awake with a painful groan, Lt. Cmdr. Geoffrey Teller tried to re-orientate himself, expecting to find the inside of a darkened runabout.  Instead, he was nearly blinded by bright searchlights directed at him.  His mind felt sluggish and confused, but he could fill his lungs again and the air had rarely tasted sweeter.  

“Mom…?”

Squinting against the harsh light, Teller’s eyes were able to focus on the startled officer inside the environmental suit.  It took him an overlong moment to work out that they were being rescued.  It had worked.

“He’s alive!  They’re all alive, sir.  Advise sickbay to standby for emergency transport.”

As the officer passed along an update back to the Thor, Teller blinked and turned his attention back towards the view screen.  It was blank and inert, like everything else aboard the runabout, but Teller could see the bits of communicator he had cannibalized floating nearby, bouncing harmlessly off the display.  

“God damn sir, I don’t know how you pulled this one off….we barely picked up your signal…”

Teller blinked again and realized the lieutenant was speaking to him.  A warm, kind voice echoed in his mind and he croaked out a response.

“Language, Lieutenant.”  Geoff smiled and closed his eyes once more before the transporter beam took hold and brought him home.  

The wordless lullaby went with him.  

[End]

===============================
Lieutenant Commander Geoffrey Teller
Executive Officer
USS Thor
Fleet Captain A. Kells, Commanding
V239509GT0
 

[JP: Subcommanders V’Tak & Sojot - Hidden Fangs]

((OOC:  I had a blast writing this JP with Lt. Cmdr. @Krindo Pandorn!  It was originally meant to be a fun curveball for folks during shoreleave, but the reaction has been so strong we've decided to use these events to build into a full scale mission!  Great writing with you, Krindo!))

((Talisin Forest, Outside Lokesh City))

Hidden in the underbrush and wrapped in a sensor dampening shroud, Subcommanders V’Tak and Sojot were into the third week of their mission on this hateful world.   Through a set of high powered optics, they could see their foe in the distance - the outlines of their stolen structures, grotesquely covered with the insignia of Starfleet.  Somewhere on that base, their target was blithely going about their day, completely unaware they had been marked for death.  

These fat, lazy Starfleet people had no idea why their mothership had been recalled at the last moment.  Their communications to the homeworld had been monitored, and quite naturally ignored by the high command.  As far as they were concerned, things were going precisely to plan. The arrival of the Klingon battleship had served the Tal Shiar’s ends perfectly, creating a moment of confusion when their operatives beamed to the surface, completely unnoticed.  Now, their patience had nearly been rewarded. Communications from the Embassy, easily intercepted from the planets traffic control network, indicated that their quarry was about to leave the protected confines of their installation aboard a small craft traveling north.  

It was the perfect opportunity to kill an Admiral.  

V’Tak:  It makes my blood burn to think of those Federation people inhabiting a structure that rightly belongs to the Romulan Republic.  Perhaps when we’ve succeeded in our mission, the Praetor will give it to us as a reward for our service?

Sojot: And don’t forget the revenge we will have after Jorok Three and Thendara Two. The reward will be substantial I would gather.

V’Tak:  The Federation has much to answer for, brother.  We are fortunate to have been chosen for this mission of retribution.  Have you inspected the canon?  

Nearby, sitting on a complex mechanical mount, hidden beneath a holoshroud, was the instrument of their vengeance.  A surface to air disruptor battery, stripped down to its minimum size and weight for portability. It would only give them a few shots before the power supply was depleted, but that would be more than they needed.  

Sojot: We’ll get one or two shots from it then it will most definitely burn out. It wasn’t made to be stripped down this much.

V’Tak:  Then our aim must be true, or we should not bother attempting to leave this place.  Better to be killed fighting Starfleet.  

He shuddered briefly, thinking of the torments he had seen dispensed to those who failed the Tal Shiar.  Men and women with shattered bodies and shattered minds to match. It was not to be his fate.  

Sojot:  Should we fail to shoot them down, I’ve rigged a self destruct charge to detonate on command. We won’t be taken by those Starfleet veruul.

V’Tak:  Very well.  There must be no trace of our presence here.  Either we are successful, or we cease to exist.  For the good of the Romulan people. Jolan Tru.  

Sojot: For our people. Jolan Tru, my friend.

Through the optics, V’Tak saw activity at the airfield.  Crewmen moving with purpose, and landing doors being retracted.  It was nearly time to strike.  

V’Tak:  Ready the weapon.  The honor of the kill shall be yours.  

Sojot tapped a few commands on a side panel and watched as power levels rose indicating the weapon is charging. When the panel was green, he nodded to V’Tak.

Sojot:  The weapon is ready. We will show our people what real Romulans are.They will remember what we do here.

V’Tak:  Your zeal is to be commended.  So many of our brothers and sisters have grown weak these past decades, listless and docile...a lost race.  They must be reminded that to be Romulan is to be feared.  Our names should be spoken in whispers, by those who fear to anger us.  That day will come again.  

Sojot: ::::lifts the weapon to his shoulder, exhaling at the weight of the launcher and facing the Embassy:: Let this be our mark in our struggle.

From the Embassy grounds, several small craft took flight.  Two appeared to be standard shuttlecraft - unremarkable except in how small and vulnerable they were.  Starfleet - always so arrogant. Always so trusting. Fools. A third ship took flight and V’Tak’s lips curled back into a feral grin.  The Admiral’s personal yacht, an obscene and garish vessel easily three times the size of the shuttles, alighted and fell into a lazy formation with the shuttles.  They were heading directly towards their position.  

Sojot: ::scoffs:: They make it so easy. What is the human expression...sitting goose?

V’Tak:  ::Hissing slightly:: Don’t dirty your tongue with human turns of phrase.  Focus on our mission. Our target comes. 

Sojot: My apologies. Been on this rock a bit too long. ::takes aim at the yacht:: They will be dust soon enough..

V’Tak:  This assignment has been a difficult one, brother, but it will soon be worth our efforts.  Hold the target lock until the last moment, I don’t want to give their pilots a chance to react. 

Sojot: Almost here. They are closing quickly. ::an soft audible beeping indicated range::

As the three craft drew near, V’Tak could hear the whine of the canon’s power pack intensifying.  The barrel articulated on its mount with a worrying grind and V’Tak’s eyes narrowed.

V’Tak:  What is the problem?

Sojot: Power pack is overloading. Auto fire is not responding. Have to take the shot manually.

V’Tak ground his teeth in frustration.  There were an ancient set of rules in their profession, handed down from time immemorial to assets and agents like him.  Always among them was the reminder ‘Technology will always let you down.’

V’Tak:  Very well.  Fire when ready.

Sojot listened as the beeping got more and more rapid. When the beeping was almost a steady whine, he pressed the fire button and two bolts of green disruptor energy flashed their way to the approaching craft. One bolt was a clean miss, while the other struck one of the smaller craft in its port nacelle, causing it to smoke heavily and veer off course. It was going down.

Sojot: ::cussing in Romulan:: One of the support craft was hit. It’s going to crash.

V’Tak:  FOOL, that was not our mission!  I have seen better shooting from a Ferengi garbage merchant!  Quickly, fire again! 

Frantically tapping on the controls, the canon ground to a halt, its power pack expended.  The still aloft Starfleet vessels began darting erratically and picking up speed, quickly moving out of their reach.  V’Tak considered the magnitude of their failure and considered his sidearm...first for the fool who had doomed them both, and then for himself, but the sound of a screeching engine coming closer stayed his hand. 

One of the shuttles was pitched over, yawing violently as a nacelle belched smoke and flame.  The shot had missed the crew cabin, but the vessel was picking up speed on its descent.  It would hit the ground near their position.  Perhaps there was a chance to still salvage something from this disaster. 

V’Tak:  If any survive the crash, we will take them back with us for interrogation.  For both of our sakes, pray their pilot is more competent than you are. 

Sojot:  We’ll need to find them first. This forest is very thick and some of the locals say it’s haunted. I will make up for my failure, I swear it.

V’Tak:  The only spirits trapped here will be ours if we fail again.  Quickly, destroy the weapon.  We must get to the crash site before a Starfleet rescue team arrives. 

As the burning shuttle collided with the nearby treetops the two Romulan assets set off, leaving behind nothing but a large scorched area where their useless equipment had burned.  Their only hope now was to capture someone valuable enough to offset their failure.  Desperation added speed to their steps as they crashed deeper into the dense forest. 

 

===============================

Subcommader V’Tak

Tal’Shiar Field Asset

V239509GT0 (AKA Geoffrey Teller)

&

Subcommander Sojot

Tal’Shiar Field Asset

Z239308KP0 (AKA Krindo Pandorn)

 

[Poll of the Week: STO-king The Flames!]

Heyo!  

A 118 fleet sounds like a great idea, but I'm not sure about the game in its current state.  I had played years ago before it went F2P, and even then it was pretty grindy for little reward, but now it seems like the entire game centers around microtransactions or extreme grinding to make any substantial progress.  

If that isn't the case, or if it's mitigated by being aligned with an active fleet of players, I'm certainly happy to jump back with a fresh character to start climbing the ladder again!  

[[JP] Lt. JG G. Xerix, Lt. S. Neathler - The Clash For Victoire]

It was a pleasure getting to participate in this arc and I’m glad to see it getting recognized for Ghant and Samira’s hard work.  Congrats guys!  

[Graduating Class of 239701.06]

Congratulations Ensign Levinson & Good luck on the Eagle!  They're lucky to have you!  

[Graduating Class of 239611.13]

Welcome Aboard! 

[The 2019 Halloween Avatar Contest award winners are...]

Congratulations and Happy Halloween!  

[2019 Halloween Avatar Contest: Veritas check-in]

ROTOM, I CHOOSE YOU!  

Teller uses Explosion!  It's SUPER EFFECTIVE!  

[Lt Wil Ukinix - From one day to the next]

((OOC:  My sincere compliments to @Wil Ukinix !))

((Room 04-3417 – G’var/Ukinix quarters, USS Veritas))

 Standing in the mirror with only a towel wrapped around his waist, Wil rubbed his fingers over his jawline to ensure his skin was completely smooth after shaving.  As he observed the deep blue eyes that were staring back it him, he came to a realisation.

((Flashback - Terra Tanunda Vineyard, Barossa Valley, Australia, Earth – Stardate 237312.10))

Little Wil was sitting on his grandfather’s lap, shielded from the hot dry sun under the back veranda of the refurbished estate cottage.

Astrad: So, young Wil, what do you want to be when you grow up?

Ukinix: Ummmm… Starfleet occifer. In space!

Astrad dropped his jaw and smiled in pretend shock, while tickling Wil’s chest.

Astrad: (Giggling) In Space, just like Mummy was! (Cheekily) Are you sure?

Ukinix: Ummmm…

Wil clasped his little hands together, and looked up at the veranda roof, before nodding and looking at his grandfather’s perfectly black irises again.

Ukinix: (Excitedly) Yeah!

His grandmother who was sitting nearby sipping a glass of cold Adelaide Hills Pinot Gris spoke up.

Hayley: But Wil, it might get dangerous in space!  (Teasingly) What if you fall out of a starship?

He clasped his hands together again and turned his head to look at Hayley.

Ukinix: Buuuuuuuut, naaaah, but, it’s OK, cos, cos, you might have to wear a special suit, a viralmental suit, and (shrugging) it means you can do breaving!  So you can do breaving, OK?!  Mummy said that’s what occifers on a starship do, OK Grandma?

Hayley: I’d be worried about you, Wil!  You’re my grandson, I want you to be safe.

Ukinix: (Hand on cheeks, half laughing) Grandmaaaaaaa, I’ll be safe in my viralmental suit!

She leaned forward and tickled him under his chin, which made him move his head down and lean back to avoid her hand.

Hayley: You’d better be, Master Ukinix!

Wil squirmed on his grandfather’s lap, giggling and squealing in delight.

((End Flashback))

He watched himself smile in the mirror at the fleeting memory of that moment. He was now a lieutenant, and becoming an experienced Starfleet officer.  The one thing he had set out to do from a young age had actually *happened*.  He had overcome the huge speed bump of becoming strongly empathic in his teenage years which had threatened to derail that goal.  And there he was, staring back at himself on a starship, that contained a full crew, some of which he considered his good and close friends.  One of which who, despite being in many ways the opposite of him, shared quarters with him.  And he adored her immensely.

As he moved back into the bedroom to get dressed for the day, he realised he’d been through a hell of a lot since he joined the Veritas.  So had many of the crew, which meant he wasn’t alone.

Ukinix: (Under his breath, singing) Dun-dun-dun dun-dun-duuuuun… dun-dun-duuuuun… dun-dun-duuuuun…

After getting dressed, he picked up his combadge, and breathed on it before giving it a polish against his gold uniform.  He placed it on his chest, then lifted it up slightly to inspect it.  As big smile came to his face.

Ukinix: (Quietly, smiling) I bloody did it.

Every day brought new challenges and new opportunities to smile.  Even on the “bad” days, deep down he knew he loved being part of Starfleet.  And being part of the Veritas was the huge layer of chocolate icing on top of the already impressive rich chocolate cake.

As he left his quarters and entered the corridor, his smile got bigger as he made his way down a corridor towards the turbo lift entrance on Deck 4, still singing very quietly to himself.

Ukinix: (Under his breath, singing) Dun-dun-dun dun-dun-duuuuun… dun-dun-duuuuun… (interrupting himself)- wait

Before a few seconds later back tracking, and then turning the other way instead, towards the turbo lift entrance on Deck 4….

Ukinix: (Under his breath, singing) dun-dun-duuuuun… (inhaling)  Dun-dun-dun dun-dun-duuuuun… dun-dun - (interrupting himself, looking back)- hang on.

…only to stop himself, gently slap his forehead, and back track *again* to turn back the way he was originally going towards the turbo lift.

 

((Main Engineering, USS Veritas, about an hour later))

The “ear worm” that he had given himself several hours earlier while he was getting dressed wouldn’t go away.  Not that he minded, it was a song from his collection that he liked fondly.  The lyrics were depressing, and he thought reflective of a time on Earth that, by all accounts, wasn’t great.  There were even some dark were times in his life when he identified with elements of the song.  Thankfully not anymore - he even felt a little guilty for even still liking it.

But damn, the tune was good.  And the classical string instruments made for a catchy intro riff.  Which he kept repeating quietly over and over as he stood at the impulse monitoring board.

Ukinix: (Under his breath, singing) Dun-dun-dun dun-dun-duuuuun… dun-dun-duuuuun… dun-dun-duuuuun…

In fact, the riff was so good he reached for his nearby PADD, and made a few taps to access his personal files.  After a few more taps music started playing quietly out of the device’s crystal-clear speakers, enough for him to hear it but not enough to distract everyone else.

As the beat started, he tapped his hands on the board in front of him in perfect time as he monitored the impulse engine’s diagnostic readouts.

PADD: // ‘Cause it’s-a bitter-sweeet… sym-pho-nyy-yy, that’s liiii-hiiife… //

A smile came to his face as his friend and Chief, Lieutenant Geoffrey Teller, entered main engineering and gave him a nod.  When Wil realised Teller was possibly heading towards him, he reached up to the PADD and tapped it to stop the playing song.

But instead of walking towards him, Geoffrey simply gestured with his head in the direction of the office while still walking.  Wil got the message, and left the monitoring board to walk behind him, following him inside.  As the doors closed behind him, his Chief hurriedly sat down at his desk, working his fingers at the console that was mounted there, while somehow also managing to gesture for Wil to sit down.

Wil could strongly feel Geoff’s sense of urgency, as he seemed to be flicking between different screens on the LCARS display.

Teller: Sorry Wil, just a minute, need to do this before we talk.  I promise it's important.  

Ukinix: No worries.

Wil placed his elbow on the desk, then rested his chin on his palm.  He looked up at the small shelf on the wall behind Geoffrey, and the unsealed bottles of Romulan Kali-fal sitting on it.  The brightness of the blue liquid inside was mesmerising.

Teller:  Well, that's done...but now I'm in the wrong chair.  

Wil eyes darted back to look at Geoffrey, who leaned forward to rest against his side of the desk.  There was a small smile on his Chief’s face, which made Wil furrow his brow.

Ukinix:  Huh?

Teller:  Wil, you know you have my complete trust, right?  

Ukinix:  (Quizzically, confused)…. Yyyyyyeah… where is this going….

Teller:  Good.  Do you know that every man and woman in this department respects the hell out of you, both as an officer, and as a colleague?  

Wil’s face brightened as a smile came to his face.

Ukinix:  Ah!  That’s because (raising finger) I slip them latinum every now and then.

When his Chief ignored his joke and just kept looking at him, Wil furrowed his brow, this time squinting his eyes.  He still didn’t know where the conversation was going.  He rested his chin on his fist.

Ukinix: Okaaaay….

Teller:  Well, they do.  A lot.  They know you're fun to work with when things are calm, and a rock solid professional when things have gone pear shaped.  They trust you.  You're going to find that valuable.  

Ukinix:  Thank you.  (Smiling, sitting up) Sorry I didn’t realise it was performance review day.  That’s valuable information for when the time comes-

Teller:  When you're leading them.  Which starts the minute those doors ::Teller nodded towards the closed office doors:: open.  As of about 15 seconds ago, you're acting Chief Engineer of the Veritas.  

Ukinix:  You what?

Wil’s face turned to one of concern.

Ukinix: Wait, are you OK? Chief, you’re my friend, is something going on?

Teller:  Don't go getting all sappy on me, this is just temporary.  Commander Delano asked me to join him for a few weeks at the shipyards here, working on some new ship that's still mostly in the transport crates.  Apparently everything that's gone on lately has impacted productivity at the Livernois Shipyards....who could've guessed?  

He swivelled in his seat, and looked at the adjacent wall with a neutral expression, apart from his widened eyes.  What Geoffrey had said had half sunk in, but so had the shock.

Ukinix:  Oh.

Teller:  Look, I know it's a lot to take in.  When I got promoted to the acting Chief role, I was still an Ensign.  You had barely been off the shuttle five minutes and we had just finished getting shot at by a bunch of grouchy windchimes.  I had no idea what I was doing, but between you and I, we've forged a hell of a department in the last year.  

He nodded slowly in agreement, looking at a lower part of the wall he was staring at.

Ukinix:  (Quietly) We have.

Slowly, a smile formed on Wil’s face, before he swivelled back to look at Teller, and stood up.

Ukinix: (Nodding) Yes, we have!

Teller:  More than that, Wil.  You're my best friend, and there's nobody in the galaxy who I hold in higher regard.  You're ready for this.  You have been for a long time.  Congratulations, Chief Ukinix.  ::Teller stood and offered his friend a hearty handshake which quickly turned into a fierce hug::  

Wil put his hand in Geoffrey’s and shook it vigorously, before he found himself wrapping his other arm around him, giving him several firm slaps on his back.

Ukinix:  (Muffled) Mate, thank you, I don’t know what to say!  (Cheekily) Except that I promise not to blow anything up…  And I consider you my best mate too.

Teller:  Alright, alright.  ::Teller turned away and surreptitiously wiped at his eyes.::  

A beaming Wil took a step back to pat Geoffrey’s shoulder, while shaking his head in disbelief at two pieces of news that he didn’t expect.  He was now the acting Chief Engineer of a Starfleet Starship, and his Chief considered him his best mate.  Wil wasn’t always great with words, and there were times he wished he could project his emotions on to others, so they knew how he felt.  This was one of those times.

Ukinix:  (Still patting Goeffrey’s shoulder) You’re a legend, Chief.  (Chuckling) Wow, this came out of the blue.

There was a moment of happy silence between the two.

Teller:  Well, back to business - Skipper told the XO that he'll have pick of the litter if we end up needing more staff, so I may have to poach a few people from you for a few weeks, but I won't know who till I get there.  I'll keep it to a bare minimum.  

Ukinix:  (Playfully rolling eyes) Chief, they’re your people, I’m just minding them.  You take who you need, we’ve got things covered here.  (Lifting finger, smiling) Except for Char, she’s awesome.  She stays.

Teller:  Other than that, you know the shop status as well as I do, so there's no sense going over that.  As for standing orders - Take care of the crew, take care of the ship, and take care of yourself.  In that order.  Beyond that - it's your department to run, Chief - enjoy yourself.  I know I have.  

Wil stood up straight, and placed his hands behind his back, giving Geoffrey a nod.

Ukinix:  Aye sir.  Good luck, mate.

Turning his head to watch his Chief leave, Wil looked around the office before he almost jumped as the doors shut.  He looked out of the window and watched the crewmembers of the engineering department diligently working away, blissfully unaware of the temporary personnel change that had just happened.

The gravity of what he had just been told sunk in.  He placed his hand over his mouth, and felt a wave of excitement and fear roll over his body.  He slowly let out a breath through his lips, before adrenalin coursed through his veins.

Ukinix: (Quietly) Oh boy.

He leaned forward and placed his hands on his knees, to regain his composure.  He was now a department head.  Even if it was only temporary, he was now charged with a responsibility he didn’t think he’d have for a long time.

Ukinix: oO Am I ready? Oo

His thought was broken by a voice over the office’s speakers.

Phan'ta'Go: =/\= Hello Lieutenant Ukinix? =/\=

Wil closed his eyes, and exhaled through his nose, before tapping his combadge.

Ukinix: =/\= Yes, Crewman, can I help you? =/\=

Phan'ta'Go: =/\= Not really, I’ve got some information for you. =/\=

Ukinix: =/\= (Sigh) OK… =/\=

Phan'ta'Go: =/\= Can you hear me? =/\=

Wil stood up straight, and placed his hands on his hips.

Ukinix: =/\= Yes, C’lem, actually I can hear you, and in fact, looking out the window of the Chief’s office, I can even see you a few metres away across the other side of engineering, looking at a console! =/\=

Without turning to look back at Wil, C’lem continued speaking.

Phan'ta'Go: =/\= Well that’s good, because there’s been a personnel change.  Apparently, you’re now Acting Chief Engineer of the (console beeping sounds)… USS Veritas. =/\=

Ukinix: =/\= Funny that.  Chief Teller just told me about a minute ago. =/\=

Phan'ta'Go: =/\= Do you mean Lieutenant Commander Geoffrey Teller, First Officer aboard the USS Diligent? How could he have told you. =/\=

Wil closed his eyes and placed his hands on his temples, before smiling.

There was nothing bitter about this moment.  It was just “sweet”.

[End]

 

 

 

Lieutenant Wil Ukinix

Acting Chief Engineer

USS Veritas

V239511WU0

[Length of Service & Special Awards]

This is a shocking honor and one I deeply appreciate.  Thank you to all those who nominated me and to the great people aboard the Veritas and across the fleet who make SB118 the incredibly special community I've come to love.  

[General Awards]

I am honored and humbled to have received awards, and am deeply gladdened to see so many other excellent people receive recognition for their endless efforts.  Congratulations to all!  

[JP: Lt. Geoffrey Teller, Lt. G’var, Lt. Jg Wil Ukinix, Lt. Jg. Addison Mackenzie, Ens. Charlena Vanlith - Helping Hands]

((OOC:  I'm very proud to have participated in this JP and wish to offer my sincerest thanks to Lt. G'var, Lt. JG. Wil Ukinix, Lt. Jg. Addison Mackenzie and Ensign Charlena Vanlith on an excellent sim))

((Engineering Lab, USS Veritas))

::When word came down from sickbay that G’var’s arm had malfunctioned, Geoff Teller had jogged into the Engineering lab and pulled up a full diagnostic on the assembly from embedded sensors that linked with the ship.  What he saw made his jaw drop::

Teller: Dammit G’var, what’d you do to yourself? 

::Nearly every readout, the ones that were still working anyway, showed massive failure in almost every component, servo, and controller board.  The fact that G’var had been able to use it at all after this much damage was a testament to just how tough their Klingon security officer was.::

Teller: oO And how thick headed. Oo

::Moments later, Wil Ukinix walked into the room with a grim expression on his face and began rapidly laying out tools and replacement modules on one of the lab benches.  It looked like they would be going right to work, and Teller had no objection, silently handing Wil components and preparing the space for some properly delicate and important work.  Wil’s face was a stony mask of determination that Teller had rarely seen.::

Teller:  ::quietly::  Sickbay?  

Ukinix:  ::Pursed lips, nodding.:: Yep.

Teller:  How’s she doing?  Diagnostics make it look like she got into a fist fight with a warp reactor.  

::Wil took a deep breath, and held tension in his chest.  He exhaled knowing that at least this time he could try to do something, given he was an engineer and the problem was her arm.::

Ukinix:  She’s OK.  Apparently her central nervous system has been damaged.

Teller:  We’ll get her fixed up, Wil.  I promise.  

::Teller offered the man a friendly pat on the shoulders.  He’d never seen Wil this tense.::  

::There was a myriad of equipment, including tricorders and sensors, waiting on the table.::

Ukinix: ::Nervously:: I think we’re ready.

Teller: We’ll pull anything else we need from the ship stores, I’ll sign off on it later - can’t imagine the Skipper will object.  

::Wil picked up his PADD that was on the table.::

Ukinix: I’ve read over this three times.  ::Concerned::  I’m still not sure what the source of the problem could be.

Teller: The diagnostics are garbled as hell - the whole subprocessor assembly must be wrecked.  We’re not going to know the extent of the damage till we get it apart.  

::It had been a rough morning, G'var woke feeling like she had gone 20 rounds with a Mugato and lost. With Mac’s help she was able to bath and dress herself, G'var hated being a burden on her Family, the same feelings of self doubt that had plagued her after Limbo threatened to return. Staring at the Lieutenant’s pips in the mirror however helped remind G'var of what others saw in her and that she could rely on her Family. Making her way slowly to Main Engineering, G'var hoped her Trash Pandas had a miracle up their sleeves.

::Teller and Wil looked up when G’var entered the room.  Wil walked over and gave her a hug.::

Ukinix: Hey, how are you feeling?

G’var:::Trying not to fall over::-Like I could take on the whole Obsidian Order on my own ::Whispering:: Don't let go, I'm ready to fall over. ::giving Wil a smirk::

Teller: G’var, no kidding around - we’re here to help you.  I don’t know what you did to that thing but we’ll get it fixed.  You can trust us.  

G'var:::smiling::-I know I can Geoff, you two are the craftiest pair of men in the Galaxy. That's why I love you. 

::Wil gestured to the seat that was set up next to the table.  He walked over to pull it out for her.::

Ukinix: So, just sit in this chair, and rest your arm on the table. We can start straight away, G.

G'var:::Falling into the chair::-Don't worry I'm not going far. ::taking a deep breath:: you boys do what you need to do to fix this thing. 

::As G’var sat, Teller began hooking up diagnostic leads where he could and running a tricorder over the arm, up to the attachment point on the shoulder.  The tricorder immediately began throwing alerts.::

Teller:  I’m getting all sorts of weird feedback from the motor control pathways, I’m seeing random power discharges all across the system.  When did this start?  

G’var:::pursing her lips::-Yesterday after my morning workout. ::rubbing the back of her neck:: I was in our quarters and then...it was a twitch at first...then unbearable agony...worse than even a fire larvae of Deneb V burrowing under my skin...

::Feeling nervous, Wil decided to lighten the mood a little.::

Ukinix: ::Smiling:: It’s funny, last time we were all in this room together-

::Giving Wil a cross look, G'var took another breath, she knew he was just trying to distract her from the pain and emotion and she loved him for it.::

::He cut himself off, as the smile disappeared from his face.::

Ukinix: Mmm.  ::Clapping hands together::  So anyway...

::Taking Wil’s hand she gave it a squeeze feeling his warm on her flesh::

Teller:  Yeah lets maybe skip the fond reminiscing for now.  Hate to ask, G’var, but this’ll be a lot easier for us and a lot less painful for you if the arm is disconnected.  

G’var:::Looking at her inoperable prosthetic::-Of course. ::Giving Wil’s hand one last squeeze:: You’ll have to help me, my range of motion is limited. ::Giving Geoff a stern glare:: Wil why don't you help me, I wouldn't want to give Geoff a thrill taking my top off. 

::With Wil’s help G'var was able to get her uniform blouse off. After a few awkward moments Wil had the arm disconnected from its socket. Turning back to Geoff G'var had to stifle a laugh at Geoff’s red face.::

::Wil picked up an engineering tricorder, and started waving it over G’var’s arm.::

Ukinix: OK, so there are some micro surges here, but they’re within tolerance levels.  ::To G’var:: You haven’t put the power module back yet?

G'var:::shaking her head::-No, I didn't want to risk the phaser accidentally discharging 

Teller:  The secondary servo-actuator controller is totally fused.  We’re going to have to fabricate a new one, and replace all the pathways leading to it.  G’var, it’d help us if we understood how this happened.  Was this some Klingon painstick thing?  You been pulling shifts as a lightning rod?  

G'var:::Resisting the urge to snap kick Geoff through the bulkhead::-I happened when in grounded the Sentinel probe’s discharge through the prosthetic ::taking a breath:: I took two discharges through it...the sensation was...very unique ::raising a brow:: I had Mac check it right after and Commander Del Vedova gave me a clean bill of health I thought nothing more of it. :: Raising a brow:: could it be that one of the Sentinel programs hitched a ride in the prosthetic?

::At the thought of that suggestion, Wil eyes opened wide as he stood up staring ahead.::

Ukinix: I really hope not.

Teller:  ::Consulting the tricorder display::  Hmm, I don’t think so - more like the insulation on the circutery was damaged and has been slowly eroding ever since.  I’m not surprised it was missed.  As systems overloaded and rerouted, more and more pathways broke down - we’re talking about classic cascade failure.  Another few days and we’d have no chance of salvaging anything.   

::Teller looked over to the diagnostic console on the wall.  The computer had been attempting to build an exploded view of the arm, highlighting components that were malfunctioning or no longer responding.  Best case scenario, this was going to take hours of work to repair, if they could even salvage the arm at all.::  

Teller:  We’re going to need more help on this.  =/\= Teller to Vanlith - please join us in the Engineering lab as soon as possible.  =/\=

Vanlith:  =/\= Aye Sir. On my way =/\=

::G'var sat quietly and meditated on the Light as they waited for Ensign Vanlith to join them. She was no cyber surgeon or expert on micro machinery. Taking the brief respite G'var allowed herself a few moments to clear her head and focus inward. Mac was right she could feel her damaged nerve endings throughout her body and feel her body’s attempts to repair the damaged neurons. Her hyper metabolism was already hard at work. Hearing her stomach growl, G'var asked Wil to get her a bite to eat and something to drink, fuel for the engine.  Thinking of G’var’s trip to Kentucky months earlier, Wil went to a nearby replicator and produced for G'var an Ale-8, along with a plate of Chicken and Dumplings.::

::Only a few moments passed before the doors opened again and Ensign Charlena Vanlith joined the work already in progress.::

::G'var stood slowly as the small Risian woman entered Engineering, they had yet to formally be introduced and G’var was looking forward to it, from what Wil had told her Charlena had a bright and inquisitive mind. She had heard the skuttlebutt about her emotional outbursts, but could hardly throw k’tangs in that house herself.::

Teller:  Charlie, I don’t know if you two have met, but the muscular mountain here is Lt. G’var, Assistant Chief of Security.  

Vanlith: I believe we have met a couple of times. Nice to see you again. :: Quietly to herself:: and my name isn't Charlie.

G'var:::-Taking the offered hand::-I know your name is not Charlie, Geoff was only being friendly ::smirking:: If you prefer Charlena so be it ::raising a brow:: By Kahless I would prefer to call you V and you can call me G. After all you are about to know me quite intimately ::gesturing to her arm socket::

Vanlith: You can call me V ::she smirked:: But these two still have to earn the right to. 

::Reading his tricorder, Wil smirked a little.::

Ukinix: ::Under his breath:: You fail to assemble one bed...

Teller:  It seems the good Lieutenant is having some serious issues with her arm, and as it was still under warranty from Veritas Prosthetics and Kitchenwares, our reputation for quality craftsmanship is on the line.  We could use an extra set of hands.  Up for it?  

::G'var once again had to squash the urge to hang Geoff from the warp core, taking a centering breath, she smiled brightly at his attempt at comic relief. Moving over to V, G'var wanted to give the younger woman a bit of encouragement. 

Vanlith: I can give it a go… oO I'm better at building then fixing though.Oo 

G'var:::clasping V’s Shoulder::-By the Light that is all I ask, perhaps you can be the voice of reason that keeps the Trash Panda’s from doing any unnecessary alterations to the prosthetic, or perhaps add some of your own. I give you my trust ::Squeezing her shoulder::

((Engineering Lab, USS Veritas))

::Tapping on a nearby console and reading diagnostics from components in G'var's arm, Wil again smirked while speaking.::

Ukinix: There goes my bottle opener idea.

Vanlith: Well there is one thing but it might take a little time to perfect. I've never added it to something I've only built around it ...::she trailed off her mind whirling:: 

::MacKenzie wandered into the lab, medkit slung over her shoulder.::

MacKenzie: I figured by the look on Wil’s face that you guys wouldn’t waste any time. Want a hand? 

Teller:  Doc, good to see you, and yes, absolutely.  Can you transfer any diagnostic scans you’ve already run into the lab computers?  I want to start building a physiological model to go along with the control interface sims we’ve already got.  

MacKenzie: One step ahead of you - did it before I left Sickbay. You should be able to pull it up.

G'var:::Laughing::-A physiological model, why Geoff if you wanted a picture all you had to do was ask ::smirking:: and once again the face matches the hair.

::Wil's eyes opened wide as he tapped away at his console.::

::G'var continued to laugh as the room became uncomfortably quiet. For a brief moment her pain subsided as she teased Geoff. Seeing the other’s faces G'var composed herself.::

G’var:::holding her hand up::-My Apologies my friends, just lighting the mood, I guess I'm the Trash Panda now?

::Teller pursed his lips.  If the normally stoic G’var was attempting to be funny, things were even worse than he thought.::  

Teller:  Alright, here’s how I see it G’var.  First step is assessing the extent of the damage - we need to understand just how much of the prosthetic and the mount can be salvaged without putting more stress on your nervous system.  I’d also like to avoid more surgery for you, but that’s going to be Doc MacKenzie’s call. 

::Hearing the word "surgery", Wil turned around and walked towards G'var, placing his hand on her shoulder..::

MacKenzie:  The nerve rehabilitation is non-surgical, but I can’t predict what treating any additional damage might look like.

G'var:::nodding::-I too would like to avoid any more surgery. ::taking Wil’s hand:: Let's make sure I don't take anymore additional damage Ladies and Gentlemen.

::Wil simply nodded in agreement and gave G'vars hand a gentle squeeze.::

Teller:  Second - we salvage as much as we possibly can with the goal of getting you out of pain, and don’t give me any of that Klingon super-warrior crap - I know this hurts.  Even if you won’t admit it, it could affect your ability to do your job and I know you don’t want that.  

G’var:::letting a breath out::-just as long as we do it right, I won't play the proud warrior...I just want an arm that works my friends, let's get it done

Teller:  Third - we rebuild.  We have the technology.  We can make the arm better.  Stronger.  Faster. I’m even thinking about installing a coffee press.

MacKenzie: ::raising an eyebrow:: ... can I get one?  

Ukinix: ::Smiling:: A new arm? Sure. If you'll just follow me to shuttle bay one, we can set a course for Limbo.

G’var:::growling at Wil::-Count me out Beloved, I promised myself I'd never step foot on that Thrice Damned Moon again ::slamming her hand down:: even for. A new arm. Fek’Lar can have it.

Vanlith:  ::Charlenas mind was whirling with ideas and how exactly she could implement them to this arm. She was unaware of the constant muttering coming from her.:: That's how to add it. 

Teller:  Any questions?  Objections?  No speeches - this is our friend and we’re going to help her.  Let's get to work. 

::Charlena froze unsure how to word exactly what she wanted to do. She didn't want to seem like she thought she knew more than the others but building for the aid of someone was kinda her thing.:: 

::Seeing that V wanted to say something, G'var waited for the others to get to work before approaching her::

G'var:::smiling::-Do me a favor V, Never hold back an idea or thought with me. ::pointing at V:: Your ideas have the same worth as anyone's, always be honest to us and more importantly to yourself. ::playfully punching V’s chest:: come one Girl hit me back show me the warrior you are, and by Kahless let's out Trash Panda these two Tribble Herders ::hooking a thumb at Wil and Geoff:: 

::Charlena looked at G oddly before then punching her as she had asked. Resulting in a stifled oww her shaking her hand, she never had been a fighter.:: 

Ukinix: ::To G’var:: Careful or I’ll get a pet tribble for our quarters.

((Two hours later))

::Three Engineers and a Doctor crowded around the lab table, working nearly shoulder to shoulder as they extracted one destroyed component after another out of the damaged arm.  Two small bins on the table were already full of melted, misshapen lumps that had been isolinear circuitry, micro-servo impellers and nerve induction relays.  Nearby, G’var was perched with her legs up on a few chairs as the computer ran another series of diagnostics on the control surfaces embedded in the cybernetic mount in her shoulder.  Teller gestured to a blackened shape near the arms elbow.::

Teller: We’re going to have to cut that assembly out, it’s not budging.  The whole subframe is warped.  G’var - you should know, there’s no way you would’ve survived the discharge with an organic limb.  This thing saved your life.  

G'var:::Raising a brow::-why do you think I did it Geoff ::doffing a hand towards the Arm:: I knew you and Wil had built a superior device and that it could take the load...Just not me I suppose

MacKenzie: He’s right - I’ve never seen anything quite like this before.

::Wil picked up one of the damaged nerve induction relays, and inspected it.::

Ukinix: :: Quietly:: Neither have I.

G’var:::leaning forward::-It was better me than You or Raissa Wil. I was the only one expendable in the Core, and you know it. ::Slapping her thigh:: and I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Vanlith: ::quietly as she worked, barely even audible to herself:: Sir I have an idea

Teller:  Most of our upgrades are fried - phaser emitter is that bit of slag over there ::he nodded to one of the bins:: and I’m not sure about the cloak.  Think we’re going to have to skip the coffee press.  

G'var:::holding a hand up::-Quiet Geoff, please ::doffing her chin at V:: Charlena you’ve got an idea? I want to hear it. Certainly beats hearing what's not working. I'd like to hear what can be done.

::Wil smiled at the newest member of the Engineering team.::

Ukinix: Go for it, Char.

Vanlith: Well it’s just that ::She stopped::

::The computer chimed as it finished it’s work, and Teller stepped away from the arm to examine the results.  His scowl immediately deepened::  

Teller:  Doc, can you look at this?  These synaptic potentials are way below normal.  

MacKenzie: ::squinting her eyes at the display:: I see what you’re saying, but I don’t know what that means.

Teller:  In engineering terms, it means the electrical signals her nervous system is using to signal the arm are getting disrupted before they get to the control interface in the mount.  

MacKenzie: It could mean that the nerves are too damaged to make the connection. At least right now, anyway.

G'var:::Rolling her eyes::-Then why can I still activate the socket? ::rolling her shoulder and flexing her back:: I can still move my back and shoulder, some signals are getting through.

Ukinix: ::Shaking his head, pointing at display:: Because the interface is damaged too.  There’s a lot of knock on effects here.

Vanlith: ::muttering to herself: so it would need an upper and lower bounds to ensure to account for pain and numbness. 

G'var:::standing::-V speak up for the Team please ::winking at V:: come on Team it's the Third Period and the other team has the Ramp, ::smacking V’s back:: let me see your game faces - no one gives up now! Right V?

Vanlith: Right. ::Charlena still wasn't sure how to word what she wanted to say still. She took a deep breath trying to calm her nerves about it and formulate the words but nothing came. Instead her mind was blank. She really was awful at communicating.:: 

Teller:   Hell no, we’re not giving up.  We’re just going to have to come up with something different.  If this was the Veritas, and the main computer, that’s your brain, G’var, couldn’t access a peripheral system, I’d say we need to run a bypass until we can repair the circuit pathways.   ::Teller snapped his fingers::  Doc, do you have anything in sickbay that can monitor the synaptic output from G’vars motor cortex directly?  Something small hopefully? 

MacKenzie: With some modifications, a synaptic transceiver might do the trick. I’m not sure if it’s ever been used in this way before.

::By this point Charlena had her mind set on this small addition. A way to ensure everyone was aware of the change in electrical communication in G's prosthetic. Whilst yes her arm was robotic it was meant to replace flesh and bone yet at no point could she see anyone replicating that with the communication. Pain was an over stimulus and numbness is an under stimulus so by factoring in something to read that you can know the arm as if it were flesh and bone.::  

G'var:::Growling under her breath::-Sounds like more poking and prodding to me Mac ::tapping her forefinger against her head:: you're not talking about drilling holes in my head are you?

::Wil swallowed, and reached out to squeeze G’var’s hand.  He could sense her anxiety.  He tried to soothe her to let her hear the facts from the Doctor first.::

Vanlith: By completely bypassing the nerves linked to the arm would we not have to account for more communication than before that is not related to the movement of the arm? 

Teller:  You’re right, that’ll be our next problem to solve.  For now Wil, Charlena, go find a pair of micro-subspace transceivers and start taking them apart.  We’re going to bypass around the nervous system damage by having the nerve impulses broadcast directly to the controller in the arm.  

G'var:::resisting a strong urge to put her hand through a bulkhead::-This is sounding an awful lot like more surgery. ::placing her hand on her hip:: and where does this bypass go Geoff? ::sneering:: HA’R’KTI! ::taking a breath to focus:: Apologies Geoff that was uncalled for. ::clenching her jaw:: ...I'm just tired of Surgeries...soon there won't be any me left.

::Squeezing her hand again gently, Wil looked G’var in the eye.:: 

Ukinix: ::Quietly, To G’var:: Hey, just wait, let’s here this out.

Teller:  It’s alright, G’var - I’m not thinking surgery.  Maybe just a little module that sits below the ear, somewhere it can get a good read through that thick skull of yours.  Doesn’t really...exist yet, but we’re about to build one.  Forget what I said about skipping the upgrades - your arm’s about to get wi-fi.  

Vanlith: Urm Sir. I have an idea that I think might be beneficial in the long term. 

Teller:  Open forum in here Charlena, lay it out for us.  

Vanlith: Well the arm is meant to represent the flesh and blood and bone that G no longer has. And well in most aspects it does. But there is one we are missing. I'm not saying G should have to feel pain in it but pain is nerves being over stimulated, in the most basic of ways, and numbness is when there isn't enough stimulation. I know it's a pretty basic way of looking at it but then surely by missing that element we don't always know how well the current and communication is working to keep a reliable check in. But it also means in a case where overstimulation happens we would know.

:: Charlenas voice grew in pitch and speed as she got more and more excited about the prospect of helping G.::

Vanlith: I guess it could in some ways be described like a fuse. But instead of breaking the arms link and stopping all further communication it informs G and the rest of use that the current messages are running at too high or too low a level in the same way we would notice feeling pain or feeling numbness. But then by doing this we would be aware of any internal damaged caused before it could reach this point. If we set the bounds to met what a typical neural impulse from G is then it should work fine. It could also then work to bring the voltage down to a level that the arm can take until we could find why it is working at such a high level….

:: Charlena trailed off from her rambling. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything because she couldn't entirely read the expression of the faces looking back at her. She let her hair fall over her face again as she began to slow and stutter over her words.::

::G'var stood silently for a moment taking in what V had said, she wasn't as versed in Microengineering as the others but V had made sense. Nodding to her new friend G'var could see her hiding behind her hair. Giving the Risian a quizzical look, G'var made a mental note to shave off V’s hair if she kept hiding behind it.::

Vanlith: Urm but it's urm just a thought we don't have to do anything like it ::she held her quickly made prototype behind her back not wanting to draw attention to it now.::

MacKenzie: ::skeptical, glancing momentarily at Teller before shrugging:: I don’t see why not.

Teller:  I like it - sort of a synaptic circuit breaker - keeps the motor impulses from overwhelming the nervous system, but also keeps the nerve pathways from atrophying.  We can add it to the existing mount for the arm.  I think that’s the last piece.  Now we just have to figure out how to make it work.    

G'var:::smiling at V::-Any alternate to more surgery sounds good to me. ::moving V’s hair away from her face:: Thank you Charlena, I knew you were my girl. ::winking::

::Charlena blushed at the comment unsure how exactly to respond again she pulled at the curls on the left side of her face as her eyes dropped to the floor.::

Ukinix: ::Moving over to console:: Chief, I’ll start modelling all of this and run some simulations to double check everything.    

::A 3-D model of G’var’s arm appeared on the screen. Wil started furiously punching commands and codes into the console.::

Ukinix: I’m liking the sound of it.

((Nine Hours Later))

:::As Wil and Charlena sealed the arm, Teller stood back from the table and re-examined the diagnostic readouts from their new interface device.  Everyone in the room was exhausted, but intensely focused on completing their task.  The computer was happy, or as happy as the computer ever was, and showed that latency between the two transceivers was acceptably low and the virtual model of G’var’s nervous system they had built up from Doctor MacKenzie’s scans seemed to tolerate this new and unusual way of controlling a limb.  All that was left was to remount the arm and have G’var give it a try.:: 

::Charlena’s novel feedback control unit had slotted into the mount cleanly and was already providing an extra stream of sensory data, both to G’var herself and to the computer.  It looked to be working, but they had to take the arm through a full range of motion test before they could be sure it would properly communicate the sensation data they were trying to emulate without overwhelming G’var’s already fragile nervous system.:: 

::Having watched  her Beloved and the others work on her prosthetic for most of the day and night, G'var couldn't help but feel the love and warmth that was flowing around the room. She wondered if this is what Wil felt like all the time. Seeing her friends finally step back from the table, G'var knew it was time to finally put metal to flesh and see if her friends labors would prove fruitful or if she was damned to more surgery and cybernetics.::

Teller:  G’var, we’re ready as we’re going to be.  We’re going to re-mount the arm, make sure the interface is clean, then power it up.  I want you to go through a standard range of motion test - nothing fancy yet.  Slow and easy.  If anything feels even the slightest bit off, stop and let us know.  

G'var:::Standing and Taking a deep breath::-Time to defend the Ramp my friends ::smiling at Wil:: May we all find Kahless in the Light.

::Taking her blouse off, G'var took in several quick breaths and centered her focus on the light. Flooding her blood with adrenaline, G'var could feel her blood begin to burn, heightening her senses and sharpening her focus.::

::Teller took a position at the diagnostic console and readied the arm for mounting::

Teller:  Wil, Charlena, I think you should do the honors.  Addison - please pull up the biofeedback monitor on the display over there and watch as the data flows in.  You see anything you don’t like, call out and we abort the test immediately.  

Ukinix: Aye sir.

Vanlith: Yes Sir. ::Charlena took a deep breath going over the calculations in her head one more time to make sure she had everything right. :: 

MacKenzie: ::nodding:: Alright, I’m ready.

G'var:::-Taking a deep breath::-Everyone stand back, two arms lengths at least ::looking Wil in the eye:: No accidents. 

::A small little smile appeared on Wil’s face as he and Charlena reconnected the limb. Teller’s eyes scanned every indicator for the smallest variation from the baselines they’d built up.  Inwardly, he was worried - they were well off the edge of the map here.  The new interface device, the subspace transceivers, Charlena’s fusebox - if this worked, there’d probably be a medical journal article in it for Addison.  If something unexpected went wrong, G’var would have to start over with a new prosthesis from scratch, and that’d mean weeks of surgery, recovery and painful retraining.  He wouldn’t wish that on anyone.::

::Eyes closed, G'var could smell Wil and Charlena’s sents as the stood next to her, reattaching the prosthetic. Ears ringing with every turn of the spanner and wrench. The sudden smell of hydraulic fluid nearly caused G'var to gag as Wil and V finished reattaching the arm. The warmth of Wil’s hand on her back was sudden replaced by a million new sensation as he switched on transceiver. Gasping as she arched her back at the wondrous new feeling, G'var let out an inaudible scream. Reaching a hand out to Wil, she steadied herself as the sensation began to abate. Clearing her mind, G'var focused her thoughts on her arm. Slowly G'var could begin to feel the connection resurface, nodding to Wil she stood straight.::

G’var:::Growling::-It’s working, I just have to focus through the...noise...but it's manageable.

::Wil ran a tricorder over the upper part of G’var’s arm.::

Ukinix: Yep!  All ready.

Vanlith: ::Sure her calculations were perfect:: Looking good. 

MacKenzie: Clear so far.

::With the arm remounted successfully and the computer seemingly content, there was nothing else to do but cross their fingers and give it a try.  It was now or never::  

::Clenching her jaw, G'var tried to make sense of the new sensations flooding her mind, it felt like a swarm of Dikaren Hornets were buzzing through her head. In the background she could feel her prosthetic.::

Teller: Stand Clear.  Re-engaging motor functions in three...two...one...mark.  

::The felling was electric, like standing on the hull as a ship went to warp. G'var took another deep breath as she sorted through the new feelings and impulses being broadcast through her transceiver. Straining G'var could feel the connection, like riding a lightning bolt straight through Sto’Vo’Kor G'var raised her arm.::

G’var:::Holding her arm out::-It’s like holding a plasma conduit in my hand. ::tears rolling down her face:: The feeling is exhilarating. I can feel my flesh again.

::Wil was very pleased, but also slightly horrified.::

Ukinix: ::Raising eyebrows, blinking:: Well, that’s a good sign I guess.

Vanlith: Seems like a good sign to me. 

Teller:  Ok, so far so good on my end - Doc, how’s it looking?  

MacKenzie: No problems on my end. We’re okay to proceed.  

Teller:  Good, ok...G’var, how does it feel?  We can adjust the feedback level in small increments up or down.  

G’var:::Taking a deep breath::-Dial it back Geoff. ::gasping:: By the Light Dial it back

Ukinix: ::To G’var:: Safe enough to give you a hug?  Or is Bangers and Human/Betazoid Hybrid Mash going to be on the menu tonight?

::Holding her arms out G'var embraced Wil, running her prosthetic hand over his back, she could almost feel the warmth through the plastics and metal. Gently squeezing, G'var inhaled deeply as she filled her lungs with Wil’s scent. G'var held Wil close as Geoff dialed back the processing and the swarm of Hornets in her head begin to diminish. Taking a few more deep breaths, G'var buried her face in Wil’s neck, silently thinking Kahless, she let the tears roll free down her face.::

::Teller smiled and leaned back against the console in relief as the two embraced.::

Teller:  Great work everybody.  G’var - lets meet back here tomorrow after you’ve had a few hours to rest and test the arm out.  I want to pull a full set of logs from the thing and make adjustments - but for now, get some sleep.  Doctors orders.  ::Teller smirked at Mackenzie::  Respectfully, Doc.  

::Pulling back from Wil, G'var gave Geoff a Thumbs up, turning back to Wil she have him a playful smirk.::

Vanlith: :: Charlena smiled a bright smile. Her eyes lit up as she looked over at G thrilled at her addition to the device. It made her wonder how everything was going back home with her brother. She wiped her brow with the back of her sleeve.:: Well I’m exhausted I don't know about anyone else. G, don’t go breaking that arm again ::She chuckled:: I don’t think any of us want to build that again anytime soon. 

::Charlena slowly made her way out and headed back to her quarters making a mental note to get in touch with her brother as soon as it was possible to do so.:: 

::MacKenzie packed up her medkit and started to head out in front of Wil and G’var.::

MacKenzie: ::pointing a finger at Wil:: Anything happens, I’m the first call you make. Seriously. And none of this macho Klingon I-can-take-the-pain crap either, hear me?

G'var:::Smirking at Wil::-Don't worry Mac, Wil and I are just gonna have a nice relaxing night ::winking:: No heavy lifting.

Ukinix: You'll be the first to know, Doc. Don't worry, I haven't caught "Klingon".

G'var:::[...]ing her head::-That sounds an awful lot like a challenge Mr. Ukinix ::Smiling brightly:: You heard the Doctor, don't get me to riled up. 

::Wil took G’var’s non-prosthetic hand, and slowly led her out of the engineering lab towards the turbolift.  She had been through a lot.  He decided to try and cheer her up again.::

Ukinix: ::Over his shoulder:: You know, I think Geoffy’s got a thing for the warp core?

G’var:::Laughing::-He's just trying to make Mistress IA jealous. ::squeezing his hand:: Now less talk of Geoff, we have to properly test the new arm out Beloved. 

::As the team dispersed and the Engineering lab emptied out, Teller began absentmindedly cleaning up from their hours of work.  The bins of melted components and spare parts they’d used, or modified, now covered much of one lab table, and after a few futile minutes trying to make sense of the mess, Teller decided to take his own advice and head back to his quarters for some sleep, but not before turning back to the computer which was still displaying a holographic diagram of the newly revised arm.::

Teller:  Computer, save all workfiles and diagrams to a new subfolder titled G’var Prosthetic Redesign 1.5 and flag for review by Doctor Mackenzie and Doctor Del Vedova. ::Teller looked over the diagram again and the gears in his mind started turning.::

Teller::  oO Could do with some streamlining there...maybe replace those with something purpose built...hmm Oo

Teller:  Computer copy all existing data and start a new design file...title...Proposed G’var Prosthetic 2.0...I’ve got a few ideas to jot down….

[End]

===============================
Lieutenant Geoffrey Teller
Chief Engineer
USS Veritas - NCC 95035
Capt. R. Rahman, Commanding
V239509GT0

&

Lieutenant JG Wil Ukinix
Assistant Chief Engineer
USS Veritas
V239511WU0

&

Ensign Charlena Vanlith
Engineering Officer
USS Veritas
V239604CV0

&

Lieutenant JG Addison MacKenzie
Medical Officer
USS Veritas
V239601AM0

&

Lieutenant G'var 
Assistant Chief of Security 
USS Veritas NCC-95035 
V239511G10

[2019 Red Carpet Fashion Report - Awards Avatars]