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Alieth

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Posts posted by Alieth

  1. @Quentin Beck's Bec is so damn ferengi to the level of repulsion and I love him for it XD

     

    ((A couple of days later, asteroid field, near the orbit of the planet REDACTED, system REDACTED ))

     

    The box for Deep Rockets Delivery Service wasn't the best box available for a race such as this, but there were only a few that might be considered more lavish, more comfortable - it was perhaps even second only to that of the Nagus. Pillows covered everything. Gold covered everything. Latinum covered everything. And although Bec's own personal wealth was only a fraction of that of his company, he lived by Rule of Acquisition number 46: it's good to be the King.

     

    One could hardly blame him for taking advantage; he'd built the company from the ground up, after all, and the only reason he'd started selling shares was because he knew that treating the company as its own entity would allow him to make bigger, better deals that would lead to bigger, better stacks of latinum down the line. That money belonged to the company, technically speaking, but it allowed him to make investments he might not otherwise make because of their volatility; the company could bounce back a lot better than he could as an individual entrepreneur.

     

    That shuttle was one such investment. As was this race. He was limited with what he could do with the money as far as betting went, so that required dipping into his own personal bank account, but he had done everything he could to assure making some kind of return on investment.

     

    Not to mention he knew Alieth very well.

     

    It was tempting to turn on the listening device his men had installed in the Threshan E'Shua, but he knew he would only hear one of two things: either dead silence or Alieth cursing his name. It was, more or less, standard practice when it came to them, though it was more amusing than insulting. He knew that, despite her words, there was warmth in what she said. Perhaps not adoration, but at least some kind of fondness she would keep entirely to herself.

     

    He was all right with that.

     

    Bec was also alone in the box. He would need to make an appearance in the lounge at some point, of that he was certain, but he enjoyed his solitude. He sat on the largest, softest pillow at the very center of the room, studying a number of screens mounted on the far wall; one mirrored the images on the larger screens that Alieth was indicating to Luxa, showing rotating shots of all of the different ships in the race. One was focused entirely on their ship, seen from a distance. One screen was off and would remain so for the time being. The final screen was a much smaller one, and it was mounted on a small rotating desk panel next to his seat.

     

    Alieth's Starfleet file scrolled slowly over the screen. He hadn't looked at the official one for quite some time… but then, she hadn't been around for quite some time, either. And the Ronin's arrival meant he could make sure his copy was up to date. She had quite the official record - though it paled in comparison to what could be listed on an unofficial one.

     

    A small window was open on that same screen, showing live footage from a body camera that had been mounted on one of the bounty hunters he'd hired to track down Beck. They had mostly been foiled so far in their attempts to pick him up, but Bec had faith one of them would manage it sooner than later. He didn't think it bad to keep an eye on things.

     

    Alieth was right about one thing - he had bet against them. Quite a bit of money, in fact. But he'd also bet in their favor, which stood to win a lot more money in the end as they were being treated as fresh-faced and inexperienced racers. That was fine by him, too.

     

    He popped a Beetle Bite into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he considered his options. Seemingly making a choice, he set another between his teeth before laying the bag in his lap and leaning forward to type a few things into the small console next to him.

     

    The offline screen flickered to life to show the interior of the custom shuttle and the two women seated in the primary cockpit. It seemed Alieth was explaining the race to Luxa - good.

     

    Alieth: No outside intervention, no connection to databases, only what we have with us. Nothing else, the first one to cross the finish line wins and takes it all. As long as you do not die, everything else is allowed.

     

    Lorana: Response

     

    Aboard the Threshan E'Shua, a hologram flickered to life on the upper lip of the instrument panel, centered between the two seats. It was a near-perfect recreation of Bec, save it was really only on the blue wavelength for visibility and it flickered occasionally. Not to mention it was only about twelve inches tall. When Bec spoke, his voice was small and tinny.

     

    Bec: Honey Badger, my love. I am very pleased the two of you made it - and with extra time, no less.

     

    Alieth/Lorana: Response

     

    Bec: Now, now, darling, you know I'm not allowed to play favorites. Not publicly, anyway. I can promise you, though, this will be easier than you might think.

     

    Alieth/Lorana: Response

     

    Bec: You think I'm worried? You're in the fastest, sleekest ship in the quadrant. I'm not worried.

     

    Alieth/Lorana: Response

     

    Tags/TBC

     

    Bec

    Chief Owner and Operater, Deep Rockets Delivery Service

    Ferenginar

    A238810SA0

     

    As written by

     

    Ensign Quentin Beck

    Medical Officer

    USS Ronin NCC-34523

    A238810SA0

    • Like 3
  2. My godness here @Ian OConnor nailing the best humour every time. You rocks mate!

     

     

     

     

    Quote

     

    [[ Room 020202, Deck 2, USS Ronin, In Orbit of Ferenginar]]

     

    Ian was wide awake, just lying on his bunk. He could hear Tzim-Shah below him, trying to be quiet and not wake Ian. He played along for now pretending to not be disturbed.

     

    Ian had really been trying to avoid his Tellerite roomie since returning from being released from sick bay. He didn’t really feel much like talking in general but Tzim-Shah had lost his arm “for real.” Ian felt awkward around the man. He struggled with thoughts of comparison. How could he feel this way when his roommate’s plight had been so much worse? He felt guilty about that and about not being a better…

     

    oO shipmate?, co-worker?, friend? Oo

     

    Ian wasn’t really sure how to define their relationship. They actually hadn’t spent a ton of time together since Ronin’s relaunch. Opposite shifts and different friend sets had them going in different directions most often.

     

    They did have a mutual respect/truce/cold war thing, at least in the sense of Tzim-Shah not wanting to truly kill him. Ian had tried to lighten the mood early on and it didn’t go over well, at least not at first. Eventually, Tzim-Shah went with the “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em” approach and the two have traded small pranks back and forth since.

     

    Ian chuckled to himself thinking of all the lettuce dishes and pirate clothes Tzim-Shah had programmed the replicator to spit out for Ian as well as his own pranks like pig-squealing door alarm and mud shower. Despite how angry Tzim-Shah might get in the moment, Ian was always relieved that things between the two never went too far. Ian stared across the room to the proof of that to where the Miss Piggy poster still hung.

     

    Tzim-Shah had stood up, scratching the hair on his chest and as he turned to pick up the prosthesis, he found that his roommate was awake.

    Tzim-Shah: What's up lettuce-face, you can't sleep?

    O’Connor: Not really. Just wallowing away in self pity. ::He smiled:: Ok, maybe not that bad. I really just can’t get comfortable.

     

    Tzim-Shah: Bah, been there, done that. ::There was a brusqueness in his voice that masked empathy. :: Do you want me to give you a hand?

     

    Shah said this while waving the still unattached prosthesis, that greeted the Orion hybrid dismally with a bunch of mechanical and hydraulic crunching noises.

    O’Connor: Nice, how long you been ::makes air quotes:: “holding” on to that joke?

    The Tellarite sheepishly shrugged as he adjusted the device on his shoulder and then turned to head for the door of the shared bathroom.

    Tzim-Shah: Your loss, it's a premium arm, the best of Tellar Prime's medical technology. Engineers are all insufferable sourpusses, but they really went all out on this one.

    O’Connor: I’ll keep it in mind but only if I get to customize the color. You think hot pink would clash with my “lettuce face” complexion? Anyway, you game for grabbing some food?

    Tzim-Shah: Nope, count me out kid, enroll Breeze if you need a sidekick.

    O’Connor: Maybe, but what important endeavor would keep your snout out of the food troth? It’s prime slop day.

    The sound of the sonic shower came on and amidst the buzzing sound came the answer.

    Tzim-Shah: I have a date!

    O’Connor: ::smiling:: Well, the universe never ceases to amaze. Who’s it with? I want to make sure I spell the name right on the sympathy card.

    There was no reply as either Shah didn’t hear or chose to ignore the quip.

    End of scene for O’Connor

     

    _______________________

    Ensign Ian O’Connor

    HCO

    USS Ronin NCC-34523

    R240009IO4

     

     

    • Haha 3
  3. I may have a soft spot for BajCardies. Even more if they are this awesomely written like @LuxaLorana's

    ((Cargo Bay 5, Deck 11, USS Ronin))

     

    Teryn Lo hadn't moved much since they had brought him here. He preferred to remain anonymous. Not because he was incredibly secretive. He wasn't exciting enough to have secrets.

     

    He just liked his own space and the room to observe.

     

    He was curious, he'd never been on a Starfleet vessel. He'd never really remembered being on any ship, except the intercolony shuttles, and they had long since given up on space travel. 

     

    He must have travelled at one point, he wasn't born on Grus Beta Three. His biological mother had told him that.

     

    Space. The final frontier they called it. The ship they were on was magnificent. He'd managed to get himself situated near a window on the runabout that had taken them here. Once he'd worked up the courage to open his eyes and the rumbling of the runabout settled after they left the planets atmosphere. 

     

    The USS Ronin. He couldn't breath as he took the wonder of it. The beauty of her nacelles, the way in which each part of her served its own unique purpose but despite that it all worked as one. 

     

    A sum of all it's parts. Like him. 

     

    He was Bajoran. He was Cardassian. He was also an orphan. Of sorts.

     

    All of these things, meant that he was alone. Even Mother Emzai hadn't favoured him like she had the others. 

     

    He asked too many questions. Or maybe he asked the wrong questions. He couldn't quite get it right. He wanted to know things. How they worked.

     

    Father Kipal had shown him the secret room below the administrative centre, he said that he'd be important in the experiments. This had caused Mother Emzai to become incredibly angry and she banned him from the building. He never knew what he had done wrong.

     

    Now, he just watched as the mounting tensions rose in the cargo bay. At first the Starfleet officers were kind, courteous and respectful. 

     

    Everyone was grateful to be free of the planet, and then more colonists came. Rumours began to circulate.

     

    Mother Emzai had been held at gunpoint by Starfleet, and others had been shot. The planet had been attacked by the Ronin.

     

    They were being forcibly removed and held here against their will.

     

    Then the gold shirt officers had arrived, with weapons and now the Ronin. This beautiful emblem of safety, had begun to feel like a prison. 

     

    He wanted to go back home. It was the only place he'd ever felt safe after his mother had abandoned him. She was a Cardassian geneticist, who had worked on the mining project with Father Kipal. 

     

    Bris: Gorva told me they're going to take you to Cardassia. 

     

    Teryn hadn't seen the human sidle up next to him. Bris was an orphan like him. Mean spirited in the way that children could be when everyone that was supposed to be kind to them … were never kind. For Bris, it hung around him like a shadow. 

     

    Teryn was often the butt of his jokes and he figured he should hate Bris, but he understood him. He was angry that they'd been left. As much as Mother Emzai offered a home, and he loved her for that. He always knew that somehow that kindness came with a price and that price meant that one day they'd serve the colony too. 

     

    Teryn: What are people saying? Really? 

     

    Bris: :: sighs and shrugs shoulders :: They said that Father Kipal was murdered. :: genuine fear:: I don't know if I believe that. You know people talked about Kipal before. Remember? The screams? 

     

    Teryn remembered the screams. Pure terror and rage. He still heard them in his nightmares. Kipal would look at them at times, like they were food rather than persons. It made him frightened to sleep.

     

    Teryn: Mother Emzai will come. She will explain to Starfleet and they'll let us go. They'll see we're good. :: to Bris :: We're good, right? 

     

    Bris: I'm human so … maybe I'll be okay. They might take me to Earth or a colony or something. You, I don't know? Bajorans won't want you and the Cardies … well you're mother didn't take you so … maybe they'll put you in a prison or something.

     

    Teryn felt the tears begin to form, he touched the Titanium bracelet his mother had given him the night she had left. For him it was a promise, that she'd come for him one day. 

     

    Bris grabbed him and pulled him to his feet. He nodded towards a group of Starfleet officers, one of them was a giant, colourful bird. 

     

    Bris: Stop hiding and let's go and find out! 

     

    Teryn allowed himself to be dragged along. 

     

    Dekas: I’ve got Dr. Jones on their way to help out in here as well. We need to de-escalate.

     

    Tzim-Shah/Solana/Carpenter: Response

     

    Dekas: Absolutely. I do think having at least one of you with me might help keep things a little easier with people who are dealing with the anger part of this.

     

    Tzim-Shah/Solana/Carpenter/Any Grus Betian NPCs: Respose

     

    Bris: :: whispers to Teryn :: De-escalate. They've got the guns :: laughs :: Give me a gun and I'll de-escalate. 

     

    Teryn: :: fear:: Don't make them angry at us. 

     

    Another human joined the officers. 

     

    Dekas: ::to Hiro:: Oh you have no idea how good it is to see you. We need all the help we can get.

     

    Teryn thought that the bird man seemed kind. They all did. He wanted to ask the bird man questions, he'd never seen someone … so alien before. 

     

    Teryn: :: whispers to Bris about Dekas :: What species are they? 

     

    Bris: You've never seen an Aurelian before? Dumb big birds. My Dad used to fry them for dinner. Delicious.

     

    Bris bent over into a bird pose, and begun to flap his arms and squawk out loud. Teryn looks at the alien, his eyes wide in horror. 

     

    oO please don't shoot us Oo

     

    Tzim-Shah/Solana/Carpenter/Jones/Any Grus Betian NPCs: Response

     

    Tags/TBC

    Teryn Lo (14)
    Grus Beta Three 
     
     
    Lt JG Luxa Lorana
    Science Officer
    USS Ronin
    A240004LL2
    • Like 1
  4. there is so MUCH drama and so MUCH going on in this scene and still @Quentin Beck makes me enjoy every line of his silly self

     

    ((Administrators Office,  Landing City, Grus Beta Three.))

     

    For a second, Quentin thought maybe the Vulcan couldn't see him, despite the fact they were nose to nose. The readings on his tricorder were going wild - elevated heartbeat, elevated blood pressure, and elevated brain activity that suggested he was actively hallucinating. Frankly, if he hadn't been Vulcan, he would either have been tearing the room to shreds or deep in the thralls of a severe seizure. 

     

    Emzai: Kipal…

     

    Whatever chaotic images he'd been seeing must have snapped into place when he'd heard Emzai say his name because his head snapped to look at her, rather than Quentin. That… didn't make him feel any better, between the readings on the tricorder and the tension in Kipal's shoulders.

     

    While Kipal's attention was drawn away, the Doctor dropped his hand towards the pocket holding the hypospray. It would take a helluva sedative to knock the crazed Vulcan out, probably applied a few different times even, but it was better than nothing. He probably would have managed it, too, if Kipal hadn't seemed to make a decision in that moment and grab his shoulders.

     

    Quentin tensed, his eyes growing wide as the Vulcan pushed him back towards the wall. He'd almost lost his grip on the tricorder but somehow managed to sustain it, continuing to draw in more and more data regarding his current state, which would only prove useful if he didn't put Quentin through the wall as he seemed to intend. He let out a grunt as his shoulders collided with it, then a soft gasp when he felt pressure against his chest as Kipal pressed a shoulder against it.

     

    Beck: ::grunting out under his breath:: I've heard of peer pressure, but this is ridiculous…

     

    He was starting to think he should have paid a little more attention in close-quarters combat training back at the Academy, but he'd always struggled with fights that weren't choreographed. He wasn't much of a dancer, either - most of the time he lacked the rhythm many people held naturally. Assuming his heart wasn't pierced by his ribs snapping under Kipal's assault, maybe he'd plan on learning to samba.

     

    Kipal: :: struggling :: Emzai … your mind … anger … it's … I had no … I can't

     

    She stepped towards him and lay her hand on his side. It didn't seem to do much to quell his anger, though the pressure on his chest released by a fraction. Enough for him to breathe.

     

    Emzai: They are going to find out what you've done. What you've been hiding here. What's underneath this city. :: to Beck :: I won't die here or be taken into custody or hunted by the federation.  I won't allow that. I won't allow you to ruin his reputation.

     

    Kipal: My work …

     

    Beck: ::gritting his teeth:: Lady, I couldn't give two farts about what you two have been doing here - that's not my job. All I want to do is help you guys survive. Is that too much to ask? Help me help you, help me help you, help me help–

     

    That's what he would have said, anyway, if Kipal hadn't suddenly pulled his shoulders from the wall and lifted him bodily before throwing him higher than he'd been before. He got as far as 'Lady-' before being swept off his feet, and the rest of his train of thought was lost in a wooph once his back hit the wall again and the air was knocked from his lungs. The tricorder hit the floor but remained open and still scanning.

     

    He didn't witness the fight, as he was too busy collapsed in a heap on the floor trying to catch his breath. He heard the sound of Kipal and Emzai struggling, heard Drisila's footfalls as she moved to pull Kipal off Emzai. Quentin looked up just in time to see them wrestle to the opposite wall and cheered her on while she took a swing at the Vulcan.

     

    Reaching into his pocket to retrieve the hypospray, he leaned his other arm against the wall so he could stand only to have the (thankfully smaller and weaker) Administrator come at him like a bat out of hell and give him a full-on slap across the face.

     

    Quentin's jaw tightened and he raised a hand to snag her wrist before she could slap him again. He'd hoped to have time to load the sedative into the hypo, but her hysterics were proving to be a rather stubborn distraction.

     

    Emzai: :: tears of rage :: You couldn't just leave us alone! I could've fixed it! I would have made it better, don't you see!

     

    The tension ebbed from her shoulders and she dropped to her knees at his feet. Quentin looked over in time to watch Drisila slump to the floor in a similar manner, though with her neck twisted at an impossible angle. Kipal slowly crept away from the Klingon corpse and towards the door before bursting through it and out of view.

     

    Emzai: :: panicked tears :: Kipal … don't leave me! Don't leave me alone! Not again, I can't bear it!

     

    Emzai followed the Vulcan. As worried as he was about Carpenter and Kos and what Kipal might do to them, his training kicked in immediately. He palmed the hypospray and darted towards Drisila's body, snatching up the tricorder and saving everything from his scans before clearing the cache. He was not at all surprised to find it was too late. If they'd been on the Ronin and in Sickbay, maybe he could have done something for her, but…

     

    Beck: ::sighing:: Sorry about the resting lIch-face thing.

     

    He suddenly felt very stupid when it came to the death rituals of other cultures. He knew there was supposed to be some kind of special ritual for Klingons, but he had no idea how to perform it. He studied her open eyes intently, which looked… shocked, if accepting. Then he closed them and muttered something under his breath about her having gone with honor.

     

    Unsure what to do next, Quentin glanced at the open door to the room when he heard his name, then back at the chair and torn bindings on the floor. There were green stains on the rope, on the floor, on the bedding - Vulcan blood, from the looks of it. Loading up the scans he'd been taking of Kipal, he adjusted a few settings and scanned the different marks. There were varying levels of maleconite poisoning, from what he could see, and that kind of build-up in his blood meant Kipal had been hallucinating for… who the hell knew how long?

     

    Shaking his head, he closed the tricorder and tucked it back into his pocket before moving to the side of the bed. Now that there was a little more light, he could see a container of some kind stashed underneath the bedframe. Dropping down to one knee, he pulled it out and fiddled with the lock for a moment before smashing the end of the hypo against it to snap it open. Inside were half a dozen full vials of what looked like refined maleconite and another half dozen that were empty.

     

    Scowling, he looked up at the door with annoyance before closing the box and tucking it under his arm. There was more going on here than he could have ever imagined. He'd just started for the door again when he heard a sudden crash of glass shattering. Sighing, he loaded up the strongest sedative he could manage with the hypo and darted forward to the door, spotting Carpenter off to one side with… a Romulan holding a sword at her back? What the…?

     

    Emzai: :: insane :: Let us go to Kipal's lab.

     

    Emzai was halfway between him and Kipal, who was again halfway between him and the XO, who had suddenly arrived out of nowhere looking like something out of a Rambo movie. The Vulcan darted forward to attack Raga with a speed that startled Quentin even now. He grimaced.

     

    Raga: By the Branch! What's wrong with him?

     

    Beck: He's got maleconite poisoning, for one thing! And he packs a mean punch!

     

    Tucker/Dekas/Carpenter/Emzai/Kipal: Response

     

    The Vulcan pressed forward again as Raga tried to lock hands with him, a contest of strength and will that Quentin could never have accomplished himself. He shook his head and grimaced again. 

     

    Raga: We…don’t have time for this! You need..to evacuate!

     

    Beck: Sir, I don't mean to undermine you, but I do think we need to see Kipal's lab if that's where he was headed. I think it'll give us the answers Miss Mary Quite Contrary here isn't willing to discuss. I'd say just let him go and I can follow if you guys want to evacuate these idiots.

     

    Tucker/Dekas/Carpenter/Emzai/Kipal: Response

     

    Beck: ::shrugging off his coat and wrapping up the PADD, tricorder, and box of refined maleconite:: Take this - it's got everything I could find on maleconite, how it's used, and all of the scans I could get of Kirsty and our Vulcan friend. And don't argue with me on this one, sir, we're gonna need a medical officer down here to make sense of any of this crap. ::nodding at Kirsty:: I'd take her with me, though. And a fresh tricorder.

     

    Tucker/Dekas/Carpenter/Emzai/Kipal: Response

     

    Ensign Quentin Beck

    Medical Officer

    USS Ronin NCC-34523

    A238810SA0

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