Wil Ukinix

In a future 2442, with a war raging in the Alpha Quadrant against the Lattice Alliance that threatens to bring the Federation to its knees, Robin Hopper's and Nathan Richard's daughter Alexis (written by the fantastic @Niev Galanis) has to instead deal with a pirate ship! I've merged two of their fantastic Disco titled sims together to highlight how well they've done bringing that dark atmosphere to a starship bridge during wartime Federation stories we see on Trek. Not only that, the characterisation of the child of two characters the Amity crew know and love is a joy to read. Fantastic stuff @Niev Galanis! ((Bridge, USS Resilience - Near a Planetary Nebula, Gamma Quadrant)) An Adamant-class starship. One of Starfleet’s best. Agile, durable enough to withstand at least a few shots from a Sencha wave weapon, and armed to the teeth. The USS Resilience was a ship worthy of its name, and it should have been out on the front lines saving lives. Instead, it was out here in the middle of the Gamma Quadrant chasing a madman. Drumming her fingers on the arm of her captain’s chair, Alexis Hopper was calm and collected on the outside. She filled out the chair well, as the ship deftly maneuvered to keep up with the ship full of pirates they’d been redirected to pursue, the pulse phasers cannons spitting angry bursts of orange after it. Pirates. Because there wasn’t already enough to keep up with in the galaxy today. Part of her wished she’d never sighted that damned Phoenix-class in the first place. At least Lex was lucky enough to have a fully staffed bridge, even if she’d had to improvise. It was an increasing rarity these days to field a full complement of crew - there just weren’t enough officers left. The Commanding Officer took a few moments to take in the state of those under her command, long blonde hair shifting around with the motion of her head. The Resilience’s bridge wasn’t all that different from its ancestor, the Defiant-class. It was tight compared to a starship, but efficient - and well-lit, like most starships in the modern era. To her left, Lieutenant Commander Natalia Moonsong-Orrey manned the engineering console. Lieutenant Sienna Monroe, a medical officer, was at the tactical station next to him. With how quickly things could go south when up against the Lattice Alliance it wasn’t strange to see a medical officer posted full time on the bridge. Their gaze moved back to the pirates on the viewscreen and the woman at the helm - Lieutenant Commander Amara Reade. oO Some of Starfleet’s finest, and we’re out here chasing our own tails… Oo No. Lex wasn’t going to let herself do that. Complaining about orders wasn’t going to get her anywhere. When she’d accepted her command, she vowed to herself to do it the right way. The Starfleet way. That meant leading her crew like a real CO would. Most of them had served varying lengths on the Resilience, but none longer than six months. That was the last time Starfleet had come knocking for transfers to one of the larger battleships. There was one person who stood out as the freshest face of all… her First Officer, promoted and assigned only days before their pursuit was ordered. She’d hardly had time to do more than shake his hand so far. The Trill was furthest to her right, at the science station. Eying the looming nearby nebula on the screen dubiously, Lex directed her attention toward Caliban. A. Hopper: That looks like bad news. Any good news for me? C. Ylvor: ::Wrly:: You’ll be pleased to know, Captain, that our sensor suite is operating at peak efficiency – providing a crystal clear report of precisely how blind we shall be if we’re forced to follow them into that Mutara Nebula... We’ll be reliant on short-range scans and manual targeting once we cross the threshold. But, therein lies the good news; They’ll be just as impotent in there as we shall be, Sir. The blonde commander’s shoulders visibly but subtly slumped as she knit her brow together. Steering your ship into a planetary nebula was a crazy move… and as far as Lex could tell, crazy moves were exactly this pirate’s MO. She’d recognized the name in the orders from Starfleet - It had taken her a few moments to place just where she’d heard it before. Her father had more than one story about an old Klingon doctor he’d been stationed with. To Lex, it was hard to imagine a Starfleet doctor committing the unique kind of cruelty Ikaia Wong inflicted on the galaxy today. A. Hopper: Status report, all stations. What are their shields looking like? C. Ylvor: I’ve ordered our flight wing to the bay. Commander Sh'kanan reports ready status – though I’d recommend against scrambling them in the nebula unless we find ourselves in a bad way, Sir. Fighters won’t hold up well in there. She looked at her notes before swivelling the chair towards the Captain to give her the status update. Reade: We are holding off the bow of the enemy vessel. Ready to close the gap whenever you want, Captain. Moonsong-Orrey: Engineering shows green across the board. Monroe: Ah, holding. Shields are holding. A. Hopper: ::with a faint smirk:: They want to run? Not a chance. Strap yourselves in - we’re about to show them what an Adamant-class can do. Mooonsong-Orrey: Orders, sir? Reade: Understood, ma’am. I am ready whenever. She tapped her hands near the helm controls, stating she was ready. C. Ylvor: ::With some urgency:: Our window to close distance and keep them out of the nebula is swiftly shutting, Captain. A. Hopper: We’re not going to give these pirates a chance to slip away this time. Lieutenant Commander Moonsong-Orrey, push those engines as hard as you can. Lieutenant Monroe, target the engines - aim to cripple, not destroy. Make sure they don’t get comfy. Lieutenant Commander Amara? …Get in their business and make it ours. Monroe: Engines. Engines. Yes Sir… Moonsong-Orrey: Pushing us to outpace them. Watching a shot land on one of the nacelles of the Pele’s Revenge, Lex did her best to not let her impatience get the better of her. These days, it truly felt like every second counted. They should have been out there making a difference, not cleaning up their own messes. But she wasn’t about to make a hasty decision and doom her crew to being stranded on a planet to helplessly await the inevitable. That was a fate crueler than death. They’d do this the right way. C. Ylvor: Fine shooting, Lieutenant. They’re feeling it – but I’m not detecting any damage beyond the nacelles. ::To Helm:: Reade, mind your speed. If they stop suddenly, we might fly right into them. Reade: Yes, ma’am, thank you for the reminder. There was a small, amused smirk on Lex’s face again at the thought. The Phoenix-class may have been nimble, but she knew which ship she’d rather be on if it came to a collision. oO This isn’t the time to be fantasizing about ramming speeds. …But still. Maybe he’d surrender if he thought… Oo She imagined the crunching metal and shuddering impact of hulls. Wong, trapped and finished. Her fingers tightened on the arms of her chair. No. That wasn't Starfleet. That wasn't her. Too many had given up on what Starfleet stood for already. A. Hopper: Keep firing. We want to knock those engines out, not tickle them. As the Pele’s Revenge crept closer to the edge of the nebula, still under fire, Lex didn’t let herself get comfortable. There had to be a way to resolve all of this without following a maniac into a Mutara nebula. Anyone who knew Starfleet as well as Alexis did knew that never ended well. Monroe: Is that enough, Captain? I— The nebula isn't going to be very kind on weapons or shields… Moonsong-Orrey: I think we should be able to compensate for the power drain on the weapons but the shields will have too much interference to form the field. C. Ylvor: We’ll have to rely on hull plating and the SIFs. Good thing we just got a clean bill of health from Spacedock. Reade: Just be aware, Commander, once we are in the nebula, I will have reduced movement controls due to interference. A. Hopper: Let’s not get ahead of ourselves yet. Stay on target and keep the heat up. C. Ylvor: ::A slightly chiding tone:: Lieutenant, need I remind you, the Phoenix Class has two nacelles. Monroe: Sorry! Sorry! Very sorry! Yes, of course. Raising her right eyebrow slightly, Lex also looked over toward Sienna when she sputtered out her rapidfire apologies. The Commander couldn’t help but pity the poor medical officer. Lex hated putting people on the front line who didn’t want to be there. It was just another sign of the desperate times. Moonsong-Orrey: You’ve got to keep working on them until your display shows them going cold. Reade: We are approaching the nebula, Captain. As her First Officer silenced the warnings from the console, Lex opened her mouth to issue the orders to keep up the pursuit… but there was something bothering her about all of this. Wong may have been a madman, but even he had to have some sort of a plan. Desperately limping into the nebula where the Resilience could just keep firing on them seemed too simple. Too straightforward. It was Natalia who gave voice to the Commander’s suspicions. Moonsong-Orrey: Does anyone else have an issue with how little they are fighting back? Reade: To be honest, they are running an odd flight path. Something seems off; I cannot pin it. Does anyone else have anything? Monroe: Response Moonsong-Orrey: I mean I know they can’t take us in a one-on-one but this is closer to flat running. Looking to each of her crew in turn, Lex’s attention landed back on her first officer as he crossed his arms and spoke. C. Ylvor: That’s Captain Wong’s M.O., Captain. I’ve known the man many years – in a manner of speaking. He’s not a fighter, but he’s crafty, and he’s not one to quit either. If he escapes into that nebula, we could be chasing them through the soup for days. Lex had tried hard not to think about the connection between the crew more than she absolutely needed to. The stakes only felt higher knowing how many familiar names she was responsible for keeping alive. That little stunt Command had pulled assembling this crew over the past few months hadn’t gone unnoticed. She’d been telling herself it was because Starfleet needed their best working together. Or that the ranks had gotten so thin that the legacy enlistees were starting to outnumber the new ones. But ever since the orders to capture Ikaia Wong had come in, the possibility had floated around in her mind. Her fingers began their rapid, impatient drumming on the chair again as the Pele’s Revenge approached the threshold of the colorful nebula. They weren’t going to be able to disable the engines before the Phoenix-class vanished within. A. Hopper: If he tries to run around in a nebula for days in that condition, we’ll be the least of his worries. This is so… ::looking briefly agitated before biting back her words and restarting the thought:: …Is there any way this doesn’t end with a ship being destroyed? C. Ylvor: It may be worth hailing him again, see if he answers this time now that we’ve got him cornered. Show him our faces; Friendly faces. Friendly faces. Right. Lex knew what he really meant. They could all trace it back to Amity Outpost. The Delta Quadrant station that had loomed over Lex’s life like a ghost from a past she only knew in stories. Her mother had never really seemed comfortable with the topic, and while her father shared the good times, even at a young age Lex could always see that sad look in his eyes behind the smile. He told stories about Wong too. It wasn’t just Starfleet ideals that had kept her from ordering her crew to destroy the Pele’s Revenge. By all legal means, Lex would’ve been completely justified. But having to tell her father she’d ordered the death of that friendly, wacky Klingon doctor she used to hear all about as a kid wasn’t something she wanted on her conscience if she could help it. Moonsong-Orrey: Response Reade: Hmm, that could work, but we run the risk of him not answering our hail. Monroe: Response C. Ylvor: It’s a tool we have at our disposal he may not be expecting. At least it ought to catch him off guard. A. Hopper: As long as he’s still sane enough to listen to reason. The first time they’d tried to hail the Pele’s Revenge, the chase across the sector had begun. Lex couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed at the time. The Commander wanted to know just what was going through this pirate’s head. How he justified the suffering he caused in his own mind. If she had to be away from the front line, the least she could do was prevent any more of that. Reade: Commander, may I add something else? Lex gave a short nod of her head toward the helm, looking toward Amara again. A. Hopper: Go ahead, Lieutenant Commander. Reade: What if we turn off our sensors and radar, keep them at the following distance, and track them like ghosts through the nebula? Brow knitting together thoughtfully for a few moments, Lex considered the possibility. A. Hopper: It would definitely cut down on their maneuverability advantage… Monroe/C. Ylvor/Moonsong-Orrey: Response Reade: Yes, I was thinking the same thing. A. Hopper: But that’s only if they make it into the nebula in the first place. Keep your eyes on your stations. We’re not going to let them catch us with our pants down. Monroe/C. Ylvor/Moonsong-Orrey: Response A plan had been decided on. Lex had read through Ikaia Wong’s file. His propensity for insisting everything could be talked through. The Commander was about to put that to the test. A. Hopper: Slow the ship and cease fire, but keep weapons locked and your hands on the helm. Divert power to the shields in case they try anything… ::a small side glance at Caliban:: …crafty. Monroe/C. Ylvor/Reade/Moonsong-Orrey: Response A. Hopper: Lieutenant Commander Ylvor… we’re going to give your old friend another call. Hail the Pele’s Revenge. C. Ylvor: Response A. Hopper: All right, everyone. Smiling faces. Monroe/C. Ylvor/Reade/Moonsong-Orrey: Response Lex took a moment to adjust herself in her seat, brushing her bangs back behind her ears. Diplomacy was rare in the galaxy these days, and her wartime career had called for precious little of it so far. It had always made her feel uncomfortable - the stoic expression, the choice words, the emotional control… But that only made trying to get this pirate to see sense and turn himself in more important. The Lattice Alliance had never been interested in talking things out - that was what Starfleet did. There weren’t two points of view to debate over in this war. Lex had to believe she could win him over instead of solving this with weapons. Even if it was going to be hard to not let the madman have it for what he’d done. Taking a deep breath, she firmed up her shoulders and looked into the viewscreen before speaking. A. Hopper: =/\= ::voice somewhat strained, choosing her words carefully:: This is Commander Alexis Hopper of the USS Resilience to the Pele’s Revenge. We both know why we’re here, Wong. =/\= Wong: =/\= Response? =/\= Any Pirates: =/\= Response? =/\= Monroe/C. Ylvor/Reade/Moonsong-Orrey: Response TAG!/TBC… Commander Alexis Hopper Commanding Officer USS Resilience A240106NG2

What does a robotic suit for a Galadorian "sound" like when it's been assimilated by the Borg? Read on the see @Gnai brilliant sim that tells you! ((Deck 1, Bridge, USS Kitty Hawk)) WARNING: TANK BREACHED. WARNING: TANK BREACHED. WARNING: TANK BREACHED. Objection: Irrelevant. Order: Suppress breach warnings. CRITICAL WARNING: LIFE SIGNS LOST. Correction: Resistance purged from system. Eleven of Eleven: Unassimilated excised. Six of Eleven: Eliminate the- CRITICAL WARNING: LIFE SIGNS LOST. CRITICAL WARN- Order: Suppress life sign warnings. Observation: Connection lost to Six of Eleven. ** Six is disconnected from The Collective. Re-assimilate or Eliminate. ** S. Richards: YOU %&$*@#$ STUNG ME! Commentary: Language. S. Richards: ::Quietly while breathing heavily:: I’m going to get you out of here. WARNING: PHASER FIRE DETECTED. ** Re-assimilate, or Eliminate. ** Observation: Phaser rifle misplaced. Status: Searching. One of Eleven: Six of Eleven. Resistance is futile. Status: Searching.. ** No. Simulations predict success. Starfleet will be Borg. Earth will be Borg. The Federation will be Borg. ** Status: Searching… Search Complete: Phaser rifle re-acquired. Eleven of Eleven: Re-assimilate. Observation: Six of Eleven fleeing. Target: Six of Eleven (moving). Status: Tracking target. S. Richards: ::To Five of Eleven:: Listen to me! ::ducking behind a console:: Fight this! Fight hard! Get a lock on this Jellyfish and beam it to sickbay. Someone there has to be able to help it. ::looking down at the Galadorian she was now holding like an infant:: Don’t sting me again please, I’m going to get you somewhere safe. ALERT: WET SURFACE Observation: Other drones responding to situation. Conclusion: Haste not necessary. Order: Heed slip warning. Status: Tracking target.. Five of Eleven: I will assist. Observation: Connection to Five of Eleven fading. One of Eleven: Five must not assist. Stand down. S. Richards: :: To five:: Come on! Let’s get this thing out of here! WARNING: PHASER FIRE DETECTED. Status: Tracking target… One of Eleven: Noone leaves. We are The Eleven. Five, assist in the re-assimilation. Eliminate the Galadorian. Observation: No further orders for Eleven of Eleven. Conclusion: Continue tracking of Six of Eleven. Five of Eleven (Yirah): Order Acknowledged. Observation: Connection lost to Five of Eleven. WARNING: PHASER FIRE DETECTED. One of Eleven: Five of Eleven. Cease and desist. S. Richards: ::To One:: Screw off you Borg Queen wannabe. ::to Five:: Keep fighting it! Target: Six of Eleven. Status: Firing. WARNING: PHASER FIRE DETECTED. Observation: Miss. Five of Eleven (Yirah): transporting now. One of Eleven: Resist or you will be eliminated. Target: Six of Eleven. Status: Firing. WARNING: PHASER FIRE DETECTED. Observation: Miss. S. Richards: Resist this $%&#@. Observation: Unassimilated Galadoran transported off bridge. Pending Order: Determine location of transport. Indirect Observation: Three of Eleven reassimilated. WARNING: PHASER FIRE DETECTED. One of Eleven: ::To Six:: Allow the assimilation. Observation: Six of Eleven subdued. Observation: Five of Eleven still resisting. Conclusion: Subdue Five of Eleven. S. Richards: Let.. Go.. ::Gasping:: of me! One of Eleven: Allow. The. Assimilation. Target: Five of Eleven. One of Eleven: Resistance is futile. S. Richards: ::Gasping:: Shut… Up… Five of Eleven: Response Order: Follow instructions or accept elimination. Commentary: Eleven of Eleven following instructions. Observation: Eleven of Eleven not given further orders. Observation: Connection to Collective active. Observation: Drone damaged from contact with unassimilated drones. Query: Communication with Collective interrupted? Conclusion: Possible damage to subspace antenna. Eight of Eleven: Five of Eleven. Report your status. Eleven of Eleven: ::pointing phaser rifle at Five:: Re-assimilate. Five of Eleven: Response S. Richards: ::To One:: I’ve had enough of you. Observation: Six of Eleven fleeing. Target: Six of Eleven (moving). Eleven of Eleven: ::swinging rifle to S. Richards:: RE-ASSIMILATE. Five of Eleven/One of Eleven/Eight of Eleven: Response Tracking. S. Richards: Deck 36 Tracking.. Five of Eleven/One of Eleven/Eight of Eleven: Response Tracking… Observation: Turbolift doors closing. Target: ERROR. Status: Firing. WARNING: PHASER FIRE DETECTED. Observation: Miss. Eleven of Eleven: ::lowering phaser rifle:: Six of Eleven lost. Five of Eleven/One of Eleven/Eight of Eleven: Response Indirect Observation: Elimination of Rahman of Rahman failed. Observation: Five of Eleven outnumbered. Conclusion: No further danger of escape. Order: Resolve pending order to locate unassimilated Galadoran. ALERT: WET SURFACE Observation: Operations console remains broken. Eleven of Eleven: ::standing in the puddle around the operations console:: Repairs needed. Five of Eleven/One of Eleven/Eight of Eleven: Response? Observation: Science console intact. Conclusion: Relocate. Eleven of Eleven: ::suit tapping mechanically at sciences console:: Unassimilated Galadoran located on Deck 2. Six of Eleven approaching Deck 36. Five of Eleven/One of Eleven/Eight of Eleven: Response Tags/TBC! ((OOC: Hopefully this isn’t too weird/confusing. Just wanted to try something different. Bonus points if you can tell the inspiration!)) -- Eleven of Eleven Borg Drone USS Kitty Hawk as simmed by Ensign Gnai Science Officer USS Artemis-A A240102G11

I audibly gasped at one point when reading this, @Rahman and Rivi Vataix. What a fantastic and exciting to welcome our newest ensign, @Niev Galanis, and lean into our Frontier Day blockbuster! 👏👏👏 (OOC: Bringing our new ensign into the action!) ((Maintenance and Storage Area, Deck 77 - Probert Station)) Having been stuffed into a maintenance locker, or rather, the equipment junction, Captain Roshanara Rahman had finally awoken and followed the tapping of someone on the other side, guiding her to a hatch. As she groped around the edges of the hatch in the dark, the hatch slowly opened with a hiss, and light began to creep into the compartment. Roshanara stepped back, prepared to defend herself in case this was a trap. Instead, though, she exclaimed when she saw the face of her guide. Rahman: Hannibal? Parker: In the flesh, Captain. Let's get you out of here... Hannibal Parker had served under Roshanara's command aboard the USS Veritas. He had come to her from Duronis II Embassy a little bit--okay, a lot of bit--rough around the edges, but through their years of service together, she had seen him become one of the finest officers she'd mentored. The last time she'd seen him was when their tour of duty aboard Veritas had wrapped up, with Roshanara heading off to the Kitty Hawk and the Delta Quadrant while Hannibal was off to the shipyards to oversee the Miranda II class development project. The hulk of a man held out his arm for her to grab as it was clear that he wasn't going to come into the compartment anytime soon, at least not through this particular hatch and not without a severe transporter accident first cutting his mass in half. She took hold of his arm and held on tight as he practically lifted her out of the compartment and pulled her into the bright service corridor. Looking back, she saw that she had been stuck in the literal crawl space that was used to run power conduits and ODN lines beyond the confines of the actual service corridor that engineers would actually be using to access those systems. Rahman: Where am I? Parker: Deep in the bowels of Probert Station. Deck 77 to be exact...what was the last thing that you remember? She let out a deep breath. Rahman: The last thing I remember, I was on Earth Spacedock... And evidently still was... just somewhere very far from where the briefing with the other starship captains and Admiral Terzo had been. Her combadge was long gone, and seeing his on his shipyard jumpsuit, she had a glimmer of hope, but it was quickly extinguished when she discovered that the communication systems for the entire shipyard was down as he shook his head and explained. Parker: No comms, Captain. The whole system is down. They say maintenance, but... Rahman: Mr. Parker, there is something nefarious happening in Starfleet. Parker: Explain... Rahman: Starfleet has been compromised. We need to find those we can trust to get the word out and... stop whoever is behind all this and stop whatever they are planning. He nodded back at her, seeing similar connections come together now. Parker: I agree. I've felt that something very big and very bad was coming. Now I know it's true... She looked around the service corridor, seeing no one else in sight, before she looked back at him. Rahman: What's been happening around here in the last day or so? Parker: More like what's been happening the past six months, Captain. Ships with relatively few warp hours but older were being recalled and decommissioned, deployments orders which made no sense, pulling ships back from patrolling Gorn space. None of it was making sense. But now, after seeing that little booby trap, I have a real good idea who is behind all this. She cocked an eyebrow. Rahman: Don't keep me in suspense. Parker: The Dominion. We've got Changelings among us. Rahman: If that's true, then we need to warn Wil and the others aboard Kitty Hawk before it's too late. Parker: Absolutely. I've seen that trick before. Killed a few Marines before it was figured out. Rahman: We can't trust the normal channels on this, Mr. Parker. As soon as we notify Command or another ship about what's happened, the changelings are going to come down on us hard. She looked around again, making sure no one was nearby. Rahman: Any suggestions? Parker: We climb out through the Jeffries tubes, go to the civilian decks, use the public transporter and get off the station. Then we'll go to the Miller. We can't use the turbolift or the transporters to leave here. Rahman: Agreed. So how much of a climb are we talking? Parker: Twenty seven decks... Ooof... she was glad she had only eaten a light lunch. Rahman: ::sarcastic:: Great... The sound of a turbolift car approaching caught their attention. Parker: The turbolift. We're about to have company... Hannibal pulled out a phaser and handed it to her. Rahman: Thanks. Parker: We got one shot to get off this deck. Use that if you have to. But know they will detect weapons fire up in Ops. Someone will eventually come, whether they will be friend or foe. Right now, either one is bad... She double-checked the heavy stun setting of the phaser before looking back up at him. Rahman: And what exactly are you going to do? Parker: Me? In about ten seconds I'm going to meet our guests and put them to sleep...:: pointing to a spot around the corner:: Stay there until I return... She rounded the corner and waited as Hannibal quickly took down whomever had been coming to greet them on the turbolift. After the sounds of the scuffle had ceased, she peered out to see two unconscious bodies. Both were wearing Starfleet security uniforms and not maintenance technicians, and both had been armed with phasers set to kill. Hannibal grabbed the phasers and threw them in the hatch. Rahman: ::shaking her head:: Dear God, Hannibal... you ever meet a problem you couldn't solve with a fist? Parker: No, I didn't kill them. I haven't had dinner yet...::smiling:: Rahman: Well, we need to find a way to hide them for now. Parker: I'll drag them over in that corridor, just in case somebody else comes... She nodded as he quickly dragged the bodies away, pulling a piece of rope from one of them. The two then headed to the Jefferies tube. Parker: Ready to do a little climbing? She leaned over to look into the Jefferies tube. Of course she had countless hours logged in these kind of maintenance crawlways as a former chief engineer, but it *had* been a while ever since she'd gotten that nice cushy captain's chair on the Kitty Hawk. Rahman: As ready as I'll ever be. Parker: You know Captain what's gonna happen if we get caught... Rahman: I don't plan on failure, Mr. Parker. Parker: That's the plan. Not getting caught. Let's go... Quickly, they dove into the Jefferies tube and she began climbing ahead of him, trying not to focus on how many rungs were above her. ((Later)) The hatch opened, spilling them out onto the public transporter level in a corner away from the crowds. Roshanara slowly stood up and looked around as Hannibal got out behind her. Rahman: We need to move our way quickly through the crowds and get to the transporter. Parker: Response Rahman: Don't look up. Just stay focused and try not to stand out too much. She glanced over and up at him. Rahman: ...well, try not to stand out as much. Parker: Response They quickly began walking at a brisk pace, avoiding the eyes of Starfleet officers patrolling as civilian personnel, reporters, and travelers made their way through the busy transporter level. As they reached one of the transporter rooms, Roshanara quickly went over to the door and locked it once they were inside before holding up her phaser at the transporter chief. Rahman: Hands up where I can see them. Transporter chief: Whoa, whoa, whoa! Parker: Response She looked over to the pad to see that one person had just been transported over from Earth's surface, specifically the academy. A fresh faced new ensign looking just as surprised as they were. Rahman: Oh, great... Galanis: Response Rahman: Stay on that pad, ensign. She looked back at Hannibal. Rahman: We can't afford any witnesses. Parker: Response Galanis: Response Rahman: You're coming with us, Ensign. She turned to the transporter chief, waving with her phaser for him to move aside as she put in the coordinates of the USS Miller, the prototype for the Miranda II that Hannibal was working on. Rahman: ::as she's typing into the console:: Get on the pad, Parker. ::looks to the transporter chief:: You, too. The transporter chief though just looked back before giving her a creepy smile. Transporter chief: You really think it's going to be that easy? Rahman: oO Ah, $%@^- Oo The transporter chief's hands morphed into an elongated tentacle form and quickly whipped away the phaser from her hand. She ducked out of the way just as the changeling punched at her with its other arm-turned-tentacle, the gelatinous fist slamming hard into the console, shattering the glass. Galanis: Response Parker: Response Roshanara stayed low to the floor as she scurried over to the transporter pad as phaser fire rang out. Galanis: Response Parker: Response Rahman: Computer, initiate transport! The confines of the spacedock transporter quickly dissolved away, to be replaced by the empty transporter room of the USS Miller. ((Transporter Room, USS Miller)) Aboard the Miller, equipment cards and other construction equipment lay scattered across the deck. In the transporter room, the operator's console still had protective covering over it. The trio of officers materialized into the dimly lit room, and Roshanara looked over at the ensign. Rahman: All right, who are you , Ensign? Galanis: Response Rahman: ::nods:: I'm Captain Roshanara Rahman and this is Major Hannibal Parker. And you're going to have a hell of a first day. Parker: Response Galanis: Response Rahman: As you just saw, there's been a changeling infiltration of Starfleet. We need to get this ship away from Earth and find the USS Kitty Hawk. The only people we can trust right now are aboard that ship. Galanis: Response Parker: Response She nodded and glanced towards the door before looking back at the ensign. Rahman: What's your training in, Ensign? Galanis: Response Parker: Response The doors to the transporter room opened, and in walked Captain Christina Cordova, the future CO of the Miller once the ship launched. Cordova: Parker, what the hell is going on here? Parker: Response Galanis: Response Roshanara stepped forward, recognizing as a fellow starship captain how the woman must have felt seeing the three intruders aboard, but she needed Cordova to understand how serious the situation was--and if she could trust her. Rahman: Captain, I'm Captain Roshanara Rahman. I need to borrow your ship: Emergency Order 7-6-2 alpha. Starfleet has been compromised. (OOC: Treating Captain Christina Cordova as an NPC, but I'll leave it for now for Ken/Parker and I to write for her) TAG! TBC... Captain Roshanara Rahman CO, USS Kitty Hawk I238705TZ0

This made me giggle @Rebecca Iko!

Fantastic sim that captures the essence of Talaxians, well done @Rebecca Iko! Who would have thought that someone could have so many second cousins... ((USS Independence-B, Gate A1, Terminal A – Amity Outpost)) Amity Outpost truly was bigger and more beautiful than Rexia had imagined, and the Talaxian leader yet again wished she had been able to pay a visit earlier. Ah well. There was no time like the present. And there was always the future to come for more visits and enjoy the marvel. Perhaps next time she could bring her daughters along, considering how frustrated they were at the fact that their mother got to go on this adventure while they had to stay under the shields that protected the asteroid from any immediate attacks from the Nedic Drenzin (though it wasn't proving to be as sustainable an option as anyone once thought.) The Nedic Drenzin had continued to be hostile, despite best efforts to keep the conflict contained and tolerable, and the asteroids’ shields had been running for a solid twenty or so years—longer than either of Rexia’s daughters had been alive—without a proper refit since Voyager had passed through and helped install them. While the shields were still working, and working rather well, they were beginning to show their age. So, while the general support of the federation was certainly a definitive factor in the application for membership, the fact this conflict could perhaps one day be resolved because of what the federation could do for New Talax was where the real wins were. That being said, a fun fly around the outpost just to marvel at its beauty again really couldn’t hurt, and she’d led the way to the terminal at a rather eager pace, her delegates trailing behind, struck and confused by their leader’s sudden energy and excitement. Once the group entered the terminal, they were greeted by another rather stunning woman, who was said to be the station’s second officer, who smiled, straightened up, and put away her PADD. Hopper: Representative Rexia! I’m Lieutenant Commander Robin Hopper. It’s both a pleasure and an honour to receive you and your delegates. Rexia: Robin Hopper, I'm flattered. Really, ::gesturing around to her delegates:: the pleasure is all ours. Rexia looked around at the faces of her fellow representatives, some more pleased to be there than others, but all filled with a certain type of wonder about the whole place. A wonder that Rexia most definitely shared. Rexia: What do you have in store for us? Hopper: We’ve prepared a very exciting demonstration for all of you – a tour aboard Amity’s principal diplomatic craft, the USS Independence-B. ::Eyebrows raised:: She’s quite a ship. Why don’t we all go aboard? Rexia: Absolutely! Rexia clasped her hands together, looking around the terminal again before catching Hopper’s nod and direction and following the commander with a spring or two in her step. Hopper: The “Indy-B” as we call her has undergone some modifications to make her more accommodating as a diplomacy-centered vessel. I’m sure you’ll find that, while she’s compact, she’s very comfortable as well… Just through the doors ahead is the shuttlebay, which houses a variety of small craft and our Type-10 shuttle, the Gatineau. A pair of doors on Robin's left opened for them. Hopper: ::Indicating the lift:: Right this way. Rexia nodded, looking around what had to be a lift before stepping inside, still as smiley and excited as she was when she first arrived. Naxil: And just where is this taking us? Rexia gave Naxil a smirk and raised her eyebrows a couple of times, hoping that that particular delegate wouldn’t mind a little bit of mystery. The Federation were all for exploring and seeing what was around the galaxy, and Rexia just hoped that Naxil learnt that he needed to open up his own little mind to the possibilities and adventure of it all too. As Naxil and and co. squeezed into the lift (not that it was very squeezy), their host pointed up, responding to Naxil's question. Hopper: Deck Two. ::The doors shut and the lift began to rise:: When those doors open, we’ll check out the mess hall and meet some of your Bridge Crew for today’s tour. More lovely people! ((Mess Hall – USS Independence-B)) Robin Hopper had graciously led them to the ships “mess hall”, where the rest of the crew were sitting and waiting. When Rexia came in she thought she saw the two starfleet officers trying their hardest to look professional, with their best foot forward, even while sitting down. Rexia was honoured, but she also wanted to see the real starfleet—the one that made a few mistakes and had fun! If Starfleet wasn't fun, then really, what was the point being part of it? For now, though, Rexia left these thoughts to herself. Hopper: Allow me to introduce Lieutenant JG Harrison Blackwood, who will be flying the Indy today, and Lieutenant JG Torvi Ylvor, who is in charge of our Security and Tactical needs. Blackwood: Welcome aboard the USS Independence-B. It’ll be a pleasure to show you the nebula. Torvi Ylvor smiled, one that Rexia undoubtedly returned. Ylvor: Pleasure to meet you, welcome to the Indy, anything you need, please let any of us know. Rexia: Thank you very much, Lieutenant. ::nodding to Blackwood:: and thank you as well. Naxil: ::Indicating S. Richards:: Who is this? She’s not in uniform. Rexia was just about to ask, in a slightly less gruff way. She wouldn't hold the gruffness against Naxil though—she never did. Hopper: ::Smiling:: Samantha Richards is here to represent Amity’s Civilian Science contingent. The Outpost is, of course, a civilian-led station and our primary interests in the Delta Quadrant are diplomatic outreach and scientific exploration. S. Richards: It’s nice to meet you. Rexia: Wonderful to meet you as well. ::turning to the delegate:: See Naxil! She's just another lovely person, here to show us the Federation's beloved Amity Outpost and Independence-B! Hopper: Great! Now, Talaxian friends, please find yourselves a comfortable seat. ::Indicating the windows:: Our adapted mess hall layout should be conducive to sightseeing and conversation – and the posted Crewmen would be happy to help you get familiar with the replicators. ::Nodding to several attendants:: If you’re lucky, you might get to see a Hawlat Angel up-close-and-personal! A Hawlat Angel? Of course, in her diplomatic career Rexia had certainly heard of the creatures, but she hadn't yet been fortunate to see them. Until now. Ylvor: We will do our best to make that happen. ::Torvi smiled again:: S. Richards: ::nodding: That would be quite the sight. Rexia: It'd be so wonderful. Blackwood: Hope you enjoy the show. Hopper: Representative Rexia, we’d be delighted to host you on the ship’s command bridge. ::To the others:: Let’s get the tour underway, hmm? ((Bridge – USS Independence-B)) Hopper: Lieutenant Ylvor, Miss Richards – how’s it looking out there today? Ylvor: Clear horizons currently Captain. Waters look calm. S.Richards: Short and long range scans show all clear. Rexia took a look at the results on the console in front of her, and gave Robin Hopper a nod, confirming what the two had said, though it was probably unnecessary. Hopper: Response Their pilot for they day undocked the rather magnificent Independence-B, and slowly moved it away from the station, showcasing the view of the station, and soon the nebula beyond. Ylvor: All tactical systems standing by at full capacity. Blackwood: Increasing speed to quarter impulse, just until we clear the station’s perimeter. Hopper:: Response Rexia: I really don't want to rush you, but don't take too long! We have things to see, you know! S. Richards: ::Quietly to Robin:: So.. if we see the Hawlat Angels, do you think if I find a small pocket sized one I can just take it home? ::Looking around:: I wont tell if you wont. As the Indy pulls away from the station Harrison looks through the latest navigational data, ears burning as he just barely overhears the chatter in the background. A brow arching. Hopper: Response The talaxian furrowed her brow, and kindly whipped her head towards Robin and her response. Rexia: So you do hold authority, despite Samantha's position as a scientist? Hopper: Response Rexia nodded, agreeing with the logic. Ylvor: Response S. Richards: ::Mostly to herself:: I would take really good care of it… Blackwood: We are now at half impulse, Captain. Hopper: Response Ylvor: Response S. Richards: I was just joking, by the way. Blackwood: Uh-huh ::Nodding his head with an amused smirk:: Hopper: Response Rexia: I don't know, do the stellae come pocket-sized? Their charming Helmsman then announced some more intriguing news. Blackwood: Captain, we’ve just received a transmission from the Hawlat. Hopper: Response Rexia: And? What have they said? S. Richards/Ylvor/Rexia: Response Blackwood: It’s the most recent coordinates for a pod of Stellaesirenia amicus, several of which are reportedly juniors too. What’s our heading…? Hopper: Response Rexia: If they're just there, then why not pay a visit? Sam/Ylvor: Response Blackwood: Right away, Captain. Increasing to full impulse. Hopper/Sam/Ylvor/Rexia: Response Rexia: What is our ETA, Mr Helmsman? Blackwood: Response Rexia: ::clasping her hands together:: Then we have that long to get to know each other! Hopper/S. Richards/Ylvor/Blackwood: Response Rexia: Well… what's a good get to know you question then? Rexia smiled, staring out at the nebula shown on the viewscreen as she thought. Rexia: How many cousins do you each have? I have twelve. Plus one hundred and nine second cousins. Hopper/S. Richards/Ylvor/Blackwood: Response Rexia nodded, realising that that question was perhaps not the best conversation starter, and afyer some more thought, decided to move to another question down the list. Rexia: So. The United Federation of Planets. Obviously you all know about it and love and enjoy it, but what does it mean to you? The Talaxian raised her hand suddenly, cutting off anyone who wanted to get a word in, and instead continued defining the task for the Starfleet officers and Civilian Scientist. Rexia: I don't want a textbook definition! I want to hear it straight from you. The best things about the federation, and some of the worse things. Though their captain was the outpost's second officer, without the highest ranks trying their best to persuade the Talaxians to join the federation, Rexia wanted to hear some of the other, stranger and quirker and possibly problematic bits before she went off to help sign papers. Just to make sure. Hopper/S. Richards/Ylvor/Blackwood: Response Tag/TBC -- Rexia Talaxian Leader & Representative Talax A239810RI3

When you've just started on a beautiful piece of lamb, and then your combadge chirps, you cut off and shove as much as you can into your mouth... that's the (Wil) Ukinix rule @Cassian Iovianus!

Great JP from Lieutenant Vanlith and Ensign Moore to help end our Malon toxic freighter mission... along with the toxic waste, is there also love in the air?

Mental note: Don't go bike riding with @Rebecca Iko.

When the computers all take over, the first thing they're going to do is head to Risa @Jo Marshall

This made me giggle @Harrison Blackwood! A great zinger.

(Great stuff @Rebecca Iko!)

A zinger from @MTMuir. When Starfleet encounters a new civilisation "Paak", and they get into trouble with the authorities, who put you on trial, and the Ambassador gets sentenced to a training course...

Thomas, the hover train on the space station of Amity was taking his passengers to the Mezzanine when he saw a frightful sight - Ukinix had *derailed*! "That's the fourth time this month!" said Thomas to Ukinix. "Can't you keep your anti-grav on the tracks?" "I've been trying to beat the Mezzanine to Basement speed record," said Ukinix. "I almost nailed it!" "Such a useless engine," said Thomas. "%$!@ $%^&$6$% ^2$@$^&%$ Thomas!" said Ukinix. Thomas and Ukinix.mp3

Want to see the results of a First Contact gone wrong, and the hilarious things that can happen as a result? @Robin Hopper's sim is a masterpiece, with many moments that just made me chuckle. Originally I was going to put this in Amity's quotes thread, but there were many great ones from Hopper and I couldn't pick the best one. So here's the whole sim ((“The White Room”, Paak Military Complex)) Robin’s patience was being tested by this Paak lawyer and his inability to wrap his stubborn little brain around what seemed, at least to her, like fairly basic concepts – not to mention dancing around the facts rather than providing them with any usable legal counsel. Paak (Counsel): If you want my advice– Hopper: Obviously we want your advice. Why else are you here!? Ukinix: ::Gentle voice:: Hey hey, Commander, just step back a bit, let’s get through this. Wil’s voice brought Robin’s attention to the tightness in her shoulders. She sighed, trying to release her irritation at the counselor’s uselessness, but it only served to make her feel even more defeated by the situation they were facing. Hopper: Sorry… Sorry… ::Face in hands, frustrated groan:: Yes, I want to cooperate if it will get us out of this mess. The Paak counsel pushed his chair away from the table and stood. Paak (Counsel): ::Closing his dossier:: I will leave for a moment and speak with the Paak of this facility, see what I can arrange regarding the medical testing you mentioned. I can’t promise anything, ::pointing to his head:: but maybe we’ll find out you both have tumours in your paaks or something. That might help. I’ll also ask about this “warp” technology you mentioned, see if I can learn anything that might be useful about whatever is going on here. oO Gee, you think?! Oo While Robin’s face soured, Wil took the more ‘diplomatic’ route and thanked their Counselor for doing what she considered very much the bare minimum. Ukinix: ::Nod:: That would be most appreciated, mate. Paak (Counsel): I’m not your friend, or your “mate”. There’s nothing wrong with the translation of that word. I’m just doing my job. In fact, I want to get out of here so I can go to the Paak game tonight. North Paak are playing the Paak Rangers, and I don’t want to miss it. With that, the Paak left the room, leaving only Robin and Wil. She took in a deep breath through her nose and then grumbled in malcontentedness. Ukinix: I know as the ranking officer I’m meant to be optimistic and give a speech to rally the troops – well, single troop in our case – but that guy is a w@^&#r. Hopper: ::Rolling her eyes:: Honestly… It does make me feel a little better to hear you say that. ((Three hours and fifty-five minutes later)) The Paak medical facilities had been abysmal. First of all, they were hardly up to the standard that Robin was accustomed to – but she could have grinned and bore the poking and prodding with needles and ionizing radiation scans… if the room hadn’t been so cold. It was as if these people had invented space travel before they’d invented the space heater. Even now, hours later, she still felt the occasional shiver run up her spine as she recalled standing barefoot on the frigid stone floor while one of the Paak doctors examined her prosthetic leg as if it were made out of pure latinum or something. The chill had made its way into her bones and now refused to leave – the nondescript white room they were waiting in once again only marginally warmer than the medical offices. Robin sat on one of the chairs, her legs huddled up to her body, with her arms wrapped around them, getting what little insulation she could from the surrounding air – which was very little. The only thing keeping her mind off of how miserable she felt now was– Ukinix: “Red Hot Chili Peppers”. Look, I’m not an expert on genres because it seems music from the era I really like is just a mish mash of genres that came before it. But it sounds like it’s one part the music you like. ::Lifting:: With that heavy rock feel that I like. At least the two of them had plenty to talk about. She’d hoped this little trip was going to provide an opportunity to get to know her First Officer better… and boy had it ever. The two of them practically knew more about each other now than their Counselor probably did. (Okay - that was an exaggeration, but you get the point). Hopper: ::Tilting her head to the side:: They did that “Californication” song right? I remember the Kappa Delta Rho boys playing that on a loop during my orientation day at Berkeley… What other songs have they done? Ukinix: Give-ita-way, Give-ita-way, Give-ita-way now… Give-ita-way, Give-ita-way, Give-ita-way, now… I can’t really understand the words after that bit. She shrugged - barely able to understand the words he had been saying between the speed of the words and the accent they were being spoken with. Hopper: I’ll look them up when we make it back to Amity. ::Suddenly glum:: If we make it back to Amity… The door opened, and the Paak legal representative walked through. Outside were two military officers with no apparent gender, standing at attention and guarding the room. Wil got to his feet and Robin let go of her legs, placing her feet on the floor. Paak (Counsel): It’s time. Let’s go face the Paak. Ukinix: What was the result of the scans and the tests? Hopper: Surely they demonstrated what we’ve been telling you is true! Paak (Counsel): I don’t know, they haven’t told me yet. We’ll likely find out at the tribunal. Robin stood defiantly. Hopper: This is outrageous! I– But he cut her off, speaking in his irritatingly sing-songy voice right over top of her. Paak (Counsel): Look, I’ve already missed the game of the year advocating for you two. You got your examination, and it’s time to go. If you’re one minute late for the tribunal, they’ll likely charge you with contempt as well. Hurry up, let’s go. The counsel turned and walked out of the room before Wil and Robin could say another word. Wil put his hands on his hips while Robin crossed her arms and tried to minimize her outward pouting. Such things were unbecoming of a Starfleet Lt. Commander… But after nearly eight hours of waiting and worrying and being shuffled from one room to another, ultimately seemingly for nothing, she was beginning to lose her ability to maintain even the appearance of ‘calm’. Ukinix: You know what? If they want to play hardball on this “Paak” word, two can play at this game. Wil pulled off the combadge from his uniform, then placed it on the table. Robin looked at him somewhat baffled, eyebrows raised. Hopper: Huh? Ukinix: We’re struggling with the word “Paak” and they don’t give a crap? Fine. The judge or magistrate or whatever can truly find out what a communication barrier is. ::Gesturing to Robin’s badge with chin:: Leave yours on the table too, that’s an order. ::hands on hips, quick inhale through nostrils:: @#%& ‘em, Robin. Thinking through what he was saying, it began to make sense. Without their Universal Translators, they wouldn’t be able to understand what was being said to them – but the Paak wouldn’t understand them either. It would certainly be an impossible-to-ignore demonstration of what they’d been trying to tell the Paak all along… She nodded slowly, then more enthusiastically, as she ripped off her own combadge and flicked it onto the table. Hopper: Yeah… We’ll @#%& ‘em together! She paused, the smile fading from her face as she shook her head apologetically. Hopper: That’s… That’s not what I meant. ((Tribunal room, Paak Military Headquarters, Continent of South Paak, Paak, Paak System, Barossa Nebula)) Robin looked around the circular room with her eyes, moving her head as little as possible, doing her best to appear confident – even though the truth was, she felt anything but. Wil’s plan made sense, at least as a way to demonstrate they were, in fact, not Paak masquerading as aliens. Based on what they’d heard while the UT was doing its initial work, the linguistic sounds produced by the Paak would be entirely impossible to produce using Human, Centauran, or Betazoid vocal chords – and, conversely, a Paak would never be able to speak like they could… But once that initial point had been made… then what? Her worrying was interrupted by the entrance of a fancy-looking Paak in a red baggy robe. He strode towards the head seat of the encircling council, or jury, or whatever they were, and everyone else held their hands over their head in the ‘love triangle’ gesture (or whatever it was) before he sat. oO So, this is our judge… Oo Robin thought to herself, suddenly wishing she could have her translator back so she could at least understand them. What if the judge was more reasonable than the lawyer had been? oO What if this was a big mistake? Oo No time to consider other possibilities. The tribunal had begun. Paak (Magistrate): ⋆⋆⋆ ♪ ✧ ♫ ✦ ⋆⋆⋆ ♬ ✧ ✦ ⋆⋆⋆ ♪ ♪ ♫ ✧ ⋆⋆⋆ Paak (Counsel): ♪ ♪ ♫ ✦ ⋆⋆⋆ ♫ ♫ ✧ ⋆⋆⋆ ♬ ♪ ♩ ✦ ⋆⋆⋆ Paak (Magistrate): ✦ ⋆⋆⋆ ♪ ♫ ♩ ♫ ⋆⋆⋆ ♪ ♬ ✧ ✦ ⋆⋆⋆ The fancy Paak looked to Wil, then to Robin, and back to Wil with a critical gaze. Robin swallowed the lump in her throat, unsure of what to say – if anything – or what to do – if anything. Fortunately, Wil bit the bullet first. Ukinix: Yeah, it sucks when you rely on *our* technology to understand us, and yet still put us on trial, huh. The magistrate sat back in his chair, blinking his eyes for a moment, seemingly trying to decipher the sounds he’d just heard, let alone whatever it was Wil had said. Paak (Magistrate): ::To counsel:: ✦ ⋆⋆⋆ ♪ ♪ ♬ ♫ ⋆⋆⋆ ♩ ♬ ♫ ♪ ✦ ⋆⋆⋆ Paak (Counsel): ::nod of head to magistrate:: ♪ ♬ ♪ ✦ ⋆⋆⋆ ♪ ♪ ✧ ⋆⋆⋆ ♫ ♩ ♪ ♩ ⋆⋆⋆ ::turning to Robin and Wil, visibly unimpressed:: ⋆⋆⋆ ♪ ♬ ♪ ✦ ⋆⋆⋆ ♪ ♩ ♫ ✧ ⋆⋆⋆ ♪ ✧ Robin decided to take things a step further and addressed them all in Low Centauran – an archaic language ignored by the Universal Translator in favour of its more modern successor. One which ought to sound distinct from Wil’s Federation Standard, even to the Paak. Hopper: Ξυλόθι μιρομορ κανίζθι φελοχίν. Δρύσταρος αμίθρι καλιόρος ξυλόζα-θορ. ((Translation: “I do not like it here. Your facilities are cold and your doctors are handsy.”)) She smiled, confident that even Wil would have no idea what she was saying. Ukinix: Response? Paak (Counsel): ::Pointing a finger at them, then at himself:: ⋆⋆ ♪ ♩ ⋆ ♫ ♪ ⋆⋆⋆ ♬ ♩ ♪ ⋆⋆⋆⋆ ⋆♫ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆⋆⋆ ♪ ♫ ♬ ⋆⋆⋆ ♩ ♪ ♬ ✦ ⋆ ♪ ♬ ♫ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆⋆ Paak (Magistrate): ::Crossing arms, scowling:: ⋆⋆⋆ ♩ ♩ ♪ ♬ ✩ ⋆⋆⋆ ♫ ♩ ⋆⋆⋆⋆ ♪ ♪ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆⋆⋆ ♪ ♫ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆⋆⋆ ♩ ♩ ♬ ⋆⋆ Hopper: Άλθος θίρις λέξις άμος ίδυος. ((Translation: “Also, this lawyer is an idiot.”)) She turned to Wil, smiling. Hopper: I think it’s working… Now what? Ukinix: Response Hopper: Right, okay… I guess we’ll see how that goes… Ukinix: Response? Paak (Counsel): ::Empathically?:: ⋆⋆⋆ ⋆⋆⋆ ♪ ♪ ♬ ⋆⋆⋆ ♫ ♪ ⋆⋆⋆⋆ Paak (Magistrate): ::Accusatorily:: ⋆♫ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆⋆⋆ ♪ ♫ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆⋆⋆ ♩ ♩ ♪ ♬ ⋆⋆⋆ ♫ ♩ ⋆⋆⋆⋆ ♪ ♪ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆⋆⋆ ♪ ♫ ⋆⋆ ⋆⋆⋆⋆ ♩ ♩ ♬ ⋆⋆ Ukinix: Response TBC ((OOC - The title of this sim is a reference to a lyric from Californication.)) == Lt. Commander Robin Hopper (she/they) Chief Science Officer, Amity Outpost Character Wiki Page V239806K11

Welcome to the Fleet, and it was great simming with both of you!