Alieth

Alieth showing all her Vulcan Drama this year

yay! welcome to the fleet

Again here: congrat @Wes Greaves! nicely done

The level of technobabble, the fine set of the situation and the ability to be clear about a very complex scene/setting from many points of view of @Sirok always amazes me. Magnificent work. ((USS Thor, Main Engineering)) It had been a grueling few days, even for a Vulcan's physiology. The work for Sirok and all the people under his command had been extensive and had only just begun. On the one hand, the engineers readjusted the life support system in order to extend as much as possible the number of people that the Thor could accommodate. On the other hand, the operations crew, along with the ship's security team, prepared every available space to accommodate as many people as possible. With an added difficulty, a significant number of them would be considered enemies, so they would almost have to be treated as prisoners. To this end, the areas where they would be had been equipped with more force fields and anesthezin prepared to use in their ventilation ducts. Given the number of people to be accommodated, even the shuttles and runaboats were outside the ship to add a few more people to the total and make maximum use of the hangar. Still it would be impossible to accommodate everyone, there were no miracles possible to accommodate 5000 people plus the Klingon army, when the Thor even pushing the limits and using the auxiliary ships could accommodate just under 4000 people. And the Thor already had 745 crew members. Another team of engineers worked with several scientists to set up a system that could help temporarily contain or accelerate the pressure in the tectonic plates and thus regulate the timing of the explosion. Unfortunately, it had to be placed inside the volcano itself, which was tremendously dangerous at the time. They had also worked on designing the plan to remove the wreckage of the Excalibur and the Klingon ship. The Excalibur was apparently in one piece, but to get it out they would have to lower the Thor to a tremendously dangerous altitude for a starship, which is not designed for atmospheric flight and take it out of the planet with the tractor beam. They would also have to configure the tractor beam not only to pull it out but to break it apart in the process,because due to the humidity and being in the planet's atmosphere most of the structure was totally rusted. The Klingon ship, impacted in a more distant area of the planet and was in much worse shape, the good thing is that a couple of runaboats would be enough to remove the wreckage of considerable size. A much larger impact than the Excalibur would explain why the Klingon survivors did not use more advanced technology, simply because they could not recover it. At that time Sirok was in main engineering viewing the data projected by the holographic table that was relatively close to the warp core. On the one hand he had a view of the area of the Calabrum fortress, where he could see the movement of the troops of both armies. But his interest was to control when the transporter enhancers were activated. Without them they could transport people but at a much slower pace due to the problems caused by the ash from the volcano. The screen also noted the position of the Loki, with Commanders Rouiancet and Brodie, who were going to place the device in the volcano. If they succeeded in their mission it would give them more time to do everything else and blow up the volcano when they were done. To review their activity and give more data to the commanders he had tasked Ensign Katsim. Sirok: Ensign, Have you found a safe landing zone for the Loki? The commanders might have good data while they were in the shuttle, but it would not be the same once they started moving forward on foot.. Katsim: response He had left the last piece of the holographic projection to check the tractor beam and the position of the Thor in relation to the Excalibur. It would be the last thing they would have to do once they had transported as many people as possible from Calabrum. Kells: =/\= This is the captain to Sirok and Katsim. =/\= Sirok: =/\= Sirok here, Capitán. =/\= Katsim: =/\= Responses =/\= Kells: =/\= How are the preparations going? Or have you begun beaming refugees aboard? =/\= Sirok: =/\=No, Captain, unless you order otherwise. The ash from the volcano advises against transporting large groups of people, at least until the pattern enhancers are connected. =/\= The engineer checked again the numbers of how many people they could accommodate on the Thor and its auxiliary ships. Sirok: =/\= Captain, I have rechecked and after adjusting the systems we cannot accommodate more than 3205 people, including the crew of the Thor 3243 if we can count on the Loki once she completes her mission. Under no circumstances can we count on the wreckage of the ships on the planet, their condition makes them totally unfit to transport anyone. We have to select who we transport. My recommendation, taking into account the prime directive in the long term, is to transport anyone with non-autochthonous DNA and the others should be randomly selected.=/\= His voice was monotone as always, with the same tone he used to report the status of the ship's plasma conduits. Katsim/Kells: =/\= Responses =/\= Tag/TBC

@Geoffrey Teller 's giving it his all to start Act 3 of our mission and hits all the right notes: humor, epic, references to legends, novels and classic books and a great setting to kick off the final fanfare of our epic/fantasy crossover. Incredible work! ((Outside the city walls, Calabrum)) There was simply no eloquent way to put it. No deft turn of phrase to encapsulate his thoughts. However he turned it over in his head, Geoff Teller's thoughts kept coming back to one thing, and one thing only. His [...] hurt. He'd spent the better part of the last two days in a mad dash around the planets surface, largely traveling by the local equivalent of horseback, and he was miserably saddlesore. It may not have been the most modern means of transportation and the smell was truly appalling but it was far more discreet than the transporters or a shuttle and the crew was already bending the Prime Directive nearly in half to help these people. They were interfering, yes, but with the larger goal of removing mass scale cultural contamination which Starfleet had, however inadvertently, caused. At least, that's what Geoff kept telling himself when he imagined the forthcoming board of inquiry after this mission. Whatever happened there was going to be a lot of paddwork. For now, neither Geoff's sore backside or his forthcoming court martial were really the issue. They were running out of time. Geoff drew his mount to a halt roughly a hundred meters from the next group of refugees they'd try to get into the city, or off to the ruins of the Excalibur. A crashed starship turned ark...Geoff shook his head. At least the court martial would be entertaining. The remainder of his team halted their mounts alongside his and Geoff looked over his small order of knights. Captain Greaves had somehow found for himself a green gambeson suitable for a Marine and wore it and the heavy metal armor with apparent ease. To his right, Ensign Dar was brilliant in crimson, wearing the colors the knights of Calabrum themselves wore. It suited her, much like the armor. Doctor Quen, at least to Geoff's eye, did not appear quite as comfortable in her azure regalia, explicitly set aside specifically for those dedicated to healing or the wizardry of science. Geoff looked down at his own golden tunic and felt an odd pang of sentimentality. For almost half of his career he'd worn gold as an engineer and somehow it felt good to be wearing it again just now. Geoff raised a hand to his group and pointed towards the refugees. Teller: That makes...four hundred twenty seven we've helped move so far and that group looks like it could bring us to an even four fifty. Captain Greaves, Ensign Dar, how're we doing on transport enhancers? Greaves/Dar: Response Teller: Good, but let me know before we're down to the last set. I'd like to keep one in reserve, just in case. Greaves/Dar: Response Geoff chuckled. Teller: When has plan A ever worked for us, Captain Greaves? Greaves: Response Teller: Lt. Quen, how're your medical supplies holding out? Think you've got enough left if these folks have injured? Quen: Response Teller: Alright, use whatever's left. We might have enough time to make a resupply run back to the city but those drums are getting awfully loud and ::Geoff turned his head and shouted in the general direction of the oncoming klingon hoarde:: extremely annoying! The drums were unimpressed. Quen/Dar/Greaves: Response From behind Geoff heard the galloping of an animal approaching and turned to see the Queen herself, resplendent in shining golden armor, mounted on something that looked like a horse wearing half a tree as a sideways hat. Geoff would later learn that this animal is called an elk and that he was not, in fact, born to be a poet. He nodded respectfully as she approached. Teller: Your Highnessness. We were just about to head to that next group. How are the preparations going? Du Pendragon: Response Quen/Dar/Greaves: Response Tags/TBC =============================== Commander Geoffrey Teller Executive Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 Commodore A. Kells, Commanding V239509GT0 --

@Sirok & @Geoffrey Teller have given us the best of them to make a perfect crossover of Star trek and high fantasy, klingons and orcs, so i only can love everything in this JP, from the title to the song. Great job guys! --------------------------------------------------------- ((Gre’thors Latrine, Klingon encampment on the outskirts of Calabrum)) Kaaj came out of the tent of his warboss, whom the pitiful weakling peasants called Modrawt, with a savage smile that was as large as it was toothy.. He had not seen the ancient warrior so excited in years but when he handed him that arrow-shaped trinket, everyone knew their long awaited destiny was finally at hand. Finally they would finish what their fathers and grandfathers had started. Finally they would crush the hated humans and their stone city. Finally they would reclaim their lost honor and rise, as the stories told, to hunt once again among the stars themselves. The camp had two clearly differentiated areas. The Klingon officers had their tents haphazardly arranged on a promontory, although the way they were positioned meant that one protected the other. Like a pack of wolves, the solitary klingons formed groups like this for only two reasons. Mutual protection, or when hunting large and dangerous quarry. Occasionally, laughter and the clash of metal blades or a ringing expletive could be heard. Their peasant levies did not dare approach for fear of becoming a source of brief and painful amusement for the increasingly frenzied warriors. In the lower camp and in perfect orderly ranks were the ramshackle tents of the slave soldiers. There, several Klingon officers shouted training orders with sharp, guttural barks to a huge company of malnourished and terrified peasants. Those that failed to follow orders perfectly were beaten savagely the first time. Those that failed a second time became practice dummies for the spearmen or small snacks for the perpetually voracious wartargs. It was a cruel but effective training technique. It was what had allowed Modrawt to rampage across the country, to gather more resources and equipment, and to finally lay siege to Calabrum. Almost as soon as his scouts reported sighting the city, the great Kri'stak Volcano began to rumble and belch flame. Like a powerful omen from the ancient songs brought to life, the sulfurous fumes and searing heat had lit a fire in the hearts of the warriors. The young Klingon made his way to one of the tents outside the camp, where the beast guards were stationed. Kaaj: Good news, brother. We've made it. We've found the ones mother and father were talking about. Our enemies from the stars. He held out his hand showing the trophy of his defeat, a damaged combadge with the symbol of his ancestral enemy, perhaps the only sweet defeat he would ever have in his life. In his fairly short life, Gron had come to love only two things with great fervor. The rancid taste of stinging Blood Mead sloshing down his gullet was by a wide margin the first. The second were the great wartargs, for whom he had cared all his life. So far the work had added scars to his skin and subtracted years from his life, but Gron didn’t care. The wartargs were the brothers and sisters he headed into battle with and it was his pride that they were nearly uncontrollably vicious. Now the pack was starved, having not been fed for several days so their appetite was at a peak when they reached the battle. Gron looked at the golden amulet, and the shattered mountain belching deadly fire against the backdrop of a reddening sky, and smiled. Gron: Today is a good day….to ride. Gron rattled his trashing stick against the cage bars behind him, eliciting a cacophony of savage yips and snarls. As soon as Kaaj finished, he patted him firmly on the back. Kaaj: That's right old friend, at last a rival worthy of a legend. Behind Gron the targs howled and snarled in apparent agreement. Gron: and a meal worthy of legend... The conversation was interrupted by a rhythmic murmur coming from the rest of the camp. As they left the tent they understood that the murmur was a song, a song sung in unison by the entire camp.Both Klingons saw all the warriors and soldiers looking at their leader's tent, who was at the door and had the bat'leth over his head. Despite hearing everyone singing the voice of their leader stood out above. *Qoy qeylIs puqloD. Qoy puqbe'pu'. yoHbogh matlhbogh je SuvwI' Say'moHchu' may' 'Iw. maSuv manong 'ej maHoHchu'. nI'be' yInmaj 'ach wovqu'. batlh maHeghbej 'ej yo' qIjDaq vavpu'ma' DImuv. pa' reH maSuvtaHqu'. mamevQo'. maSuvtaH. ma'ov. Both warriors joined their voice to the song. Today they would finally secure their places in Sto’vo’kor. Shouted orders and a stampede of running feet brought the army into marching formation soon after. The sky darkened and the ground shook as they began the final journey towards Calabrum...and destiny. [End] ========================== Kaaj of the Klings E239702S10 & Gron of the Klings V239509GT0 ======================= *Hear! Sons of Kahless. Hear! Daughters too. The blood of battle washes clean The Warrior brave and true. We fight, we love, and then we kill. Our lives burn short and bright, Then we die with honor and join our fathers in the Black Fleet where we battle forever, battling on through the Eternal fight. =========================

welcome back to the fleet

Awesome job with this one! @Anton Richards! [[Inside the burned-out library, Calabrum, Unknown Planetoid]] Richards: It looks like Christmas has come early. Alieth sighed. He couldn’t have asked for a better reaction. Alieth: Ensign, what did I say about remarks about elves?? Anton’s impulses already had another joke already loaded into his verbal slingshot, but with his eyes finally reaching normal levels of light reception, he decided against it. Richards: You didn’t tell me there were going to be consequences for my actions! ::Rubbing his head again:: Alieth observed Anton with her typical Vulcan concern. This comforted and concerned Anton both at the same time. He preferred to pretend things like these didn’t happen. Alieth: Are you sure you have no symptoms that could be concerning? I would be interested to check you, what you have done a minute ago… At that moment, voices were heard closer and closer, in the direction in which the children had fled, followed by the guards. They were running out of time. Alieth: Pick up everything you have found useful and that you can hide in your clothes, ensign, and let us go, we cannot be discovered here. Anton shook his head once more, finally starting to feel half-human again. Richards: Yes sir! Anton looked around at the nothing he had found and just began gathering anything that looked like it could be salvageable. These items included, his vendor advertisement, a golden chain with markings Anton didn’t recognize, and a half burnt book titled “How to write explosive endings… in which the last half of the book was lost to the fire. Just before leaving Anton bent down and picked up the feather that had fallen from Alieth, he tucked it away and made a mental note to ask about it later. Alieth had gathered what looked like a collection of tombs before heading towards the exit, Anton shortly joined her, Alieth gathered one last piece of evidence, and they headed to find the rest of their team. [[A few minutes and a lot of wandering later, Fountain at Guilds Square, Calabrum, Unknown Planetoid]] When they finally made it to the guild square, Katsim and De Scheppes were already waiting for them there, as well as a new member of the group, a tiny Coffee Drake sleeping on the scientist's shoulder. Alieth: ::As a greeting, gesturing at the purple creature:: Why do you have that on your shoulder? Anton chuckled childishly, he liked this little drake, he pointed out one finger and curled it playful towards the drake. Richards: Is he friendly? Katsim /De Scheppes: Response The Vulcan's unslanted eyebrows furrowed deeply. Alieth: :Take that back to... "our home" is both highly irregular, and perhaps hazardous, I cannot allow it :: Alieth noticed the look in the two women's faces and, at this stage, she decided to leave the subject for later, focusing on what was most relevant::: What have you found so far? Anything you can tell us about these Guilds? Anton looked over at Alieth with an exaggerated open mouth, and began talking to the drake in a child like tone. Richards: Oh, don’t listen to the mean lady. You're the cutest. He then playful placed his finger on the drakes nose, the drake bit him without hesitation. A faint image of a steaming cup of hot liquid shot into his brain. It was relaxing for a moment… Then he took a step back and felt an itch in his eyebrow. His face twitched and wrinkled, it was like an itch somewhere between his skin and his eye socket. It couldn’t be scratched. Katsim /De Scheppes/ Alieth: Response? Richards: I think I’m fine. I’m just…. Itchy. Anton relentlessly waved his arms around trying to scratch a part of his back in which he apparently could not reach. His eye still twitched with a slight but very annoying discomfort. Katsim /De Scheppes/ Alieth: [[Tags! & TBC]] __________ Ensign Anton Richards Security Officer USS Thor T239802AR1

Not for the first time, Alieth requested that the computer erase the log she had been recording to that moment. The Vulcan's slanted brows furrowed slightly and there, in the secluded room of Research Facility 8 of Telstrus III, she allowed herself (even!) bit her lower lip. She knew that she had to send the report as soon as possible, before the planet's rotation took them out of range of the system's communication relay. It would be two weeks before she would be able to send a message again, and she was well aware that a second communications failure would only lead the Captain to send a team to investigate what had happened to them. And that, no doubt, would result in LOTS of paddwork. Just the thought made her shudder. Yet, she also knew that the content of what she was going to transmit would have... consequences. Certainly unpleasant consequences, but possibly less so than the alternative. In the long run, at least. In the short term, the consequences would undoubtedly be catastrophic. That was something she was 87.75959594% certain of. Once more, the Vulcan's expression distorted moderately in the minimal sketch of a pout. But at the end, she took two short steps towards the circular window that stretched across much of one of the labs' walls and take a look. On the outside, the wind kept blowing fiercely, stirring up wisps of snow from the slope of the ridge. Further out, almost imperceptible in the distance, loomed the dark shape of several winged creatures. As they had been doing for the last few days, from dawn until late at night. The petite Vulcan let out a minute sigh and then turned her back to the window, heading back, once again, to the computer alcove. She had always cherished wind, but after this mission, perhaps she should re-examine her inclinations. “Officer Alieth's Log, on mission on Telstrus 3. Security Clearance for Command Ranks only. Personal note: if anyone dares to divulge this to Geoff or Meidra, they will be in serious trouble. End of personal note. Start of Report number 47: It all started on the morning of the seventy-second day of the mission, when I woke up....” It all started when she woke up in a nest. That’s it. It wasn't the first time Alieth had woken up in unusual places, but it was certainly the first time he had woken up in a nest. She lifted her head fractionally, more confused than she wanted to admit even to herself, as she tried to understand how she had gone from researching the planet's atmospheric peculiarities with civil engineer Hersh to waking up in an animal-made bed. The second query that popped into her mind was, of course, with regard to her cantankerous colleague. Fortunately, this one was easily answered when she discovered the grizzled Tellarite snoring a few metres away, ostensibly happy and oblivious to his surroundings. Her third inner question concerned what kind of creature lighted eggs over three metres in height, like the ones that shared their “bed”. The fourth enquiry was a more iffy one, as it involved finding out who had determined that the planet itself wasn't inhabited by any larger animal of a dog. Not even a large dog, such as Cheesecake, but rather one of those dogs that tended to yap insistently and nap on the laps of their owners, which Alieth felt a strange mixture of fascination and animosity towards. Regardless, Alieth was going to send a particularly stern reprimand letter on the matter to that officer. (Computer note, letter attached as file VR A01-3456). Finally, she wondered if the creatures that were about to emerge from the shell might actually feed on Vulcans. She was sure that Hersh would soon be considered unfit for use as food, being, as he was, exceptionally sour. At least if he was awake when the creatures hatched and could open that obnoxious snout of his... Her concluding uncertainty became her main concern when she witnessed the top of one of the eggs cracking. With more speed than grace, she crawled on hands and knees to where the engineer lay and shook him awake. The Tellarite protested throughout the process and Alieth needed a good deal of her wit and mime coercive skills to coax the engineer to shut up, stay silent and glance around. As soon as he did, she could see the parade of questions that she herself had posed flashing through the face of her partner in misfortune. Albeit perhaps nuanced with how bland Vulcan were. And how that played against him. And so, after only a few minutes and without the giant creature having managed to hatch from the egg, the two of them started to work. A quick survey of the surroundings revealed that they were at one of the highest points of an unknown mountain range, that climbing upwards would only lead to a point where their blood would freeze in their veins and that the descent down the vertical walls that occupied three of the four sides of their location would probably involve a very long fall with extremely scenic views leading to a sudden and very likely excruciatingly painful slam against the ground. Soon they decided that none of them were too fond of such prospects, so they moved on to the next step of their plan. After some intense foraging, three extremely lengthy discussions on the virtues of organising and judging materials, and ten minutes of silence when the egg about to hatch tipped to one side revealing a reptilian eye surrounded by feathers, they finally established what they had to work with to get out of that place. Fourteen large feathers, varying in width from forty-five centimetres to one metre, with a minimum height of one and a half metres and a maximum height of five metres. About a hundred metres of fibres of various kinds that had been quickly braided together to create rope. Insufficient to reach the ground, but useful for other purposes. Virtually an endless supply of branches, wood and bark of diverse dimensions, as well as a worrying amount of bones, including the skull of what on most planets would be considered an apex predator, but which looked as if it had been a snack for the nest's owner. And snow. Plenty of snow. Mostly of the yellow or brown kind. It wasn't much to work with but in an example to be remembered for posterity of Starfleet's lessons in teamwork and the virtues of interspecies collaboration, they were quickly able to spend a good portion of their resources on building a hang glider. Primitive, sure, but sturdy enough to bear the weight of both of them and carry them safely to... well... Far away from there. Unfortunately, what the lightweight craft could not withstand was the weight of the large animal that landed on top of it. A creature of such size and weight should not be able to fly, and yet they both watched as the gargantuan feathered creature flapped hurricane-force wings and shrieked angrily at the presence of two creatures in its nest. All their detailed planning and meticulous analysis of their possibilities was flushed down the sink and both Hersh and Alieth scurried around the nest in the best rendition of "run for your life" that the planet had ever seen. It was all a blur for a few moments until a gust of wind told them their only way out. Jump. Alieth shouted to his companion and grabbed a feather, which the engineer followed shortly after. They both paused for a second at the edge of the chasm, grasping their feathers at both ends. They glanced at each other and, as a gale of wind stirred their clothes and.... they jumped….. “... While this settles the historical dispute about that Vulcans are undeniably more aerodynamic than Tellarites, engineer Hersh’s rescue from the native life form he now designates as "Mom" raises the problem of his recovery and return to Starfleet facilities. While I have made use of the feathers and have studied the thrust, flapping and wind force required to reach the nest again, I strongly suggest that the intervention of a starship transporter as the most advisable procedure. However, based on my observations, I can assure you that the engineer is well-fed and protected from the elements, so this is therefore a rescue of priority level two. Personal note: Add a ban on reading this file to Mister Greaves. Add to the prohibitions listed previously. Notify command of these exceptions to access. End of personal note. End log.”

@Wes Greaves

We.... we need to love @Geoffrey Teller just like this. Don't change ((City of Calabrum, Training Yard.)) McKittrick: Oh, there's time enough for questions later friends! A quick test of mettle. Dar Frowned a little confused. Dar: A match…:: She shot Teller a glance. :: Geoff nodded and the two of them stepped a short distance away from the knights to speak privately. L'ancelot: Look for suitable protective clothing, it's a friendly contest. Jorann's doublet may be useful. Across the courtyard Tomas laughed in apparent delight as Geoff stood ready, thought he wasn't entirely sure for what yet. The other knight had stepped away, searching out something on a nearby equipment rack. McKittrick: The same Jorann whom, though I hold him dear as a brother, has soiled his armor each and every time he has worn it? L'ancelot: I know his hygiene is not the highest in these places, but it's nothing that can't be fixed later with a few cleanings. Tomas strolled off to find the equipment while Geoff scowled. Even with his limited capacity as a diplomat, he knew refusal wasn't really an option. The specifics may have been unique but the idea of getting sized up by the locals through a contest of some sort happened so often it was nearly Starfleet tradition at this point. If Teller was lucky and put on a good enough show of it, he might even get the information he was looking for. From somewhere nearby Tomas called out. McKittrick: Good fortune sir, everything appears to be dry! Teller stepped into the arena and faced off against his opponent without much hesitation. Dar: Commander, Ummm good luck. Dar gave him a look that strongly suggested he was going to need it, and Geoff agreed. This was almost definitely going to hurt. Teller: Ready when you are. His opponent seemed surprised but moved past it quickly. L'ancelot: I was preparing for your companion but if you want it you will have it. McKittrick I think Wong's gambeson will fit Master Teller better, even if it has to be adjusted with some webbing. Don't forget to get him a helmet. Tomas returned and began helping him into a set of equipment that while foul smelling did seem to broadly fit his less than broad torso. It took several minutes but soon Geoff was wearing what felt like an entire plasma manifold worth of metal. Teller rolled his arms, trying to find his range of movement in the cumbersome equipment. He missed his skants immediately. Apparently L'ancelot saw the look on his face and empathised. L'ancelot: with more time we would have found them more suitable equipment, I just hope it is enough. Dar: Oh I’m sure these will do just fine, right Commander? Geoff's pants clanked. Teller: Oh yeah, definitely one of my best ideas yet. McKittrick: Worry not friend, it has been some time since L'ancelot maimed anyone in practice, thou perhaps that means he's due? The young man readjusted his helmet while Teller put on his protective gear. Geoff found the pommel of a sword in his hand and thanked the youth who'd passed it to him before taking a few tentative swings of the heavy blunted blade. L'ancelot: I'm sorry it's cumbersome, Master Teller, but even with no edge or point, a sword like this could easily break a bone. And soon we will need every available hand. Either to get away from that damn volcano or to make our way through the klings and their minions. Dar: Your planning on attacking them? As if in response the training yard rattled a bit, a small tremor running through the ground. Their frequency was increasing noticeably. Tomas looked pained. McKittrick: Simply, We are too few and they...are many. Their peasant levies, conscripted to serve Modrawts will or die, number in the thousands now. To attack directly would be certain death and though none among us fear it, there is no cause to throw away life so casually. Our Queen thought to contact Modrawt and broker some compromise that would stem the bloodshed, but our envoys never returned. Teller listened intently as Tomas laid out more useful tactical information then they had discovered in days until L'ancelot politely cleared his throat. L'ancelot: ready? Geoff wrapped his gloved hands around the pommel and brought it into position with a wobble. He felt off balance, his helmet limited his field of view to a fairly narrow slit, and he was starting to understand why Jorann, whoever they were, peed in this getup. Teller: Yep, ready. As a child of some seven years of age, Geoff had once managed to drag a large round metal refuse canister to the top of a tall hill near his family home. For no particular reason he climbed in, tilted the bin over and rolled down the rocky hillside so fast he blacked out. As an adult he had little memory of why he'd done it or even what had happened afterwards, but he did remember the sound all those rocks made as the stuck the outside of a fast moving metal can tumbling downhill. The ringing of L'ancelot's blade against his helmet, shoulder, chest and somehow helmet again was a perfect replica. Geoff put his sword up in a blind effort to deflect blows and was rewarded with a shock up his arms as L'ancelot deftly knocked the blade aside before ringing his bell a third time. From somewhere far ahead Dar was shouting. Dar: COMMANDER…UMMM BLOCK….GET HIM OFF BALANCE! Geoff considered this nuanced and complex tactical advice while L'ancelot continued raining blows on him with apparent ease. Teller felt like he was moving around on a planet where the gravity was too high and somehow L'ancelot hadn't even broke a sweat yet. He moved around in his armor like it was made of silk. McKittrick: Careful Sir L'ancelot, I think Master Teller intends to let you exhaust yourself! Why else would he allow you to attack unchallenged for so long? Geoff shifted his shoulders at the last second and successfully avoided one of L'ancelot's strikes, but his joy was short lived as the man deftly pivoted and fired another shot into Teller's ribs. Geoff saw an opportunity and wrapped his arm around the sword, trapping it and drawing both men together in close proximity. Geoff panted with exertion as L'ancelot fought to free himself. Teller: Had enough yet? For once, Geoff's low center of gravity gave him the advantage and he pivoted all his weight, sending the armored knight crashing down to the courtyards flagstones with a thunderous ringing of metal. Geoff stepped back and opened his visor, grinning like an absolute idiot. It had been a fluke victory but he'd take it. Geoff reached his hand out to the prone L'ancelot. Teller: Best two out of three? L’ancelot: Response She could feel the excitement inside her growing, her own heartbeat a mile a minute as she moved to follow the Combat that was now breaking out in the arena. McKittrick: By the Stars he's a feisty little imp. It is a rare thing to see L'ancelot grounded so and quite exciting. Tomas watched the man named Teller move and fight with rapt attention. He was clearly untrained and possibly a buffoon, but he fought with surprising bravery and spirit. Great knights had been born of far less. Dar: I think exciting is an understatement…you clearly:: She nodded in L’ancelots direction. :: Get a lot of training it. Tomas nodded gravely, not taking his eyes off the two men as they returned to the ready position. McKittrick: It is our duty to defend the people but we cannot do that if we cannot defend ourselves. As you've seen, monsters prowl these lands. Faith and a strong sword arm are often your best allies. Is it not so for you? Have you not trained in the sword and the spear since you were old enough to lift either? Dar: I can handle long-ranged and short-range melee attacks easily enough, I trained with Kl…:: She paused. :: Killing blows. In the yard Geoff had moved back to the center but he'd kept his sword low for a moment. It had nothing to do with the amount of panting and sweating he was doing inside the armor at the moment. Teller: If you give me a few minutes I can turn the armor plates around and you can bang out all the dents you just made. L’ancelot: Response Teller: Stalling? ::Geoff took a long moment to raise his sword and close his visor.:: Absolutely not. Ready as I've ever been. L’ancelot: Response This time Geoff went on the offensive immediately, swinging the blade down and across where L’ancelot had been a fraction of a second earlier. Geoff looked down in confusion as his blade impacted the cobbles before his helmet rang once again with a particularly hard strike. Geoff turned and raised his blade to block and successfully intercepted the blade before it could find its target. It was as much guesswork and luck, but Geoff was gradually reducing the number of blows his armor absorbed. Dar: WATCH OUT! TURN! Dar's warning carried across the courtyard and Geoff moved without thinking, a whistling blade passing centimeters from the tip of his helmet. Teller: Whoa hey maybe we should try negiogat... Geoff hurried back but L'ancelot pressed his attack relentlessly and eventually, Teller was all but chopped down and left panting like a turtle on its back. Teller: Ungh..ok...I think you got me that time. So do you think we're worth trusting yet, or do you need to knock me around a little more to be sure? Whatever L’ancelot decided Geoff was content to lay on the flagstones and look at the sky for a bit. He hoped the ringing in his ears would fade soon. McKittrick: Perhaps Master Teller is right, L'ancelot, and time is nearly as short as he is. They must know how desperate things are. Dar/L’ancelot: Response Teller: Well, I appreciate that. A surprising amount of my work results in head trauma. You get used to it. Geoff clanked on his own helmet with an armored fist like he was knocking on a door. Dar/L’ancelot: Response Tag/TBC =============================== Commander Geoffrey Teller Executive Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 Commodore A. Kells, Commanding V239509GT0

Gra'vel: philosopher.

I could see the angry vulcan noises from a quadrant afar facing that lack of comply to regulations

Sirok approaching healthcare as an engineer XD

The mix of humour, action and guiding the scene towards an open cliffhanger-like closure is spectacular. The mix of the Starfleet officer Teller at the end of the scene with Teller being.... well "Teller" at the beginning and the subtle transition from one to the other is magnificent. Spectacular work @Geoffrey Teller! ((Volcanic grotto, planet surface)) Brodie: =/\= They’re going to find her... =/\= Geoff risked a glance and cursed as he ducked back down. Teller: =/\= Dar, draw a bead on the lead rider. Alex, get the one on the right. I've got the one on the left. This goes sideways we lay down fire, get Peri and beam out. Standby. =/\= While a targ as big as a workbee sniffed at Peri like a potential snack the poor Ensign was knocked to her back in surprise. Geoff's hand tightened around the grip of his phaser as the lead Klingon shouted out in something which sounded more recognizably Klingon. Betlak: There are intruders! Brodie: ::Quietly:: Oh hell… Teller: =/\= Everyone stay calm, no sudden movements. Peri, you may want to apologize to the giant targ. It looks grumpy. =/\= Katsim: Uh…um...sorry. Peri scrabbled away from the dripping jaws and flaring nostrils of the beast. For the moment, the rider seemed more amused than alarmed. Geoff wondered if that would be the case if these Klingons discovered they were Starfleet. Geoff offered silent praise for Alex's choice of non-descript mission clothing, it might give them a chance to talk their way out of this. More importantly, it might keep them from becoming targ chow. Betlak: I can’t help but wonder, little worm, what you are doing here. Sent to spy on his? The language was a brutal collision of Klingon and some [...]ized shorthand. Geoff managed to catch about every third word with confidence, but it was enough to get an idea. It seems they'd run across some kind of patrol, or perhaps perimeter guards. The question of what they might be guarding had rocketed to the top of Teller's mind. Teller: =/\= If there's something here worth spying on, we're in the right place. =/\= Katsim: I’m sorry...I don’t...I don’t understand. Betlak: If there is one of so little size, she must not be alone. Spread out and search. The lead rider was clearly losing patience and drew a sturdy but roughhewn looking spear, leveling it at Peri's chest. Geoff nearly gave the order to fire but Peri must've remembered some Academy Klingon. Katsim: jup jIH! jup jIH! Friend! I’m a friend! Everyone present froze as the troop leader evaluated Peri very closely, but he did not move to strike. His expression became suspicious. Betlak: Who are you? Brodie: ::Quietly:: =/\= So they do understand… =/\= Teller: =/\= Keep your head down, remember you're our plan B if this goes badly. =/\= Betlak: We will find your companions. You certainly are not capable of getting here on your own. Geoff shifted himself out of cover and used the totality of his skill in camouflage and stealth to effectively cover less than a meter before he was spotted. As it turned out, even ash covered pale white skin tended to contrast against black volcanic stone. Betlak: As I thought. Grenvor! Stoft! Staring down the suddenly very upset looking Klingon, Geoff decided to shift tactics. Teller: Hi There! Lovely day for a ride in the lava flats, isn't it? Geoff closed the distance to the lead rider voluntarily, walking forward slowly but casually. Behind him he could hear rocks shifting and the bark of other klingon voices. It seemed at least one of his teammates had been uncovered. Geoff made a mental note that all of them were due for a refresher course in Starfleet survival and evasion when this mission was over. Brodie: ::Nodding to the spear:: DaHjaj jay' 'e' DaHar'a'? ((Do you really think that today is a good day to die?)) Geoff sighed to himself slightly, wondering if perhaps the Counselor could've used another notable Klingon expression that didn't summon to mind the image of glorious death. Or quoted some Shakespeare, which some Klingons rather inexplicably loved. Geoff trod as close to the giant targ as he dared and stared up at it's rider and his rather sharp looking spear as if he didn't have a care in the world. As the expression went, bluff big. Teller: Lovely creature, what this big fellas name? Is it Fluffy? Looks like a Fluffy to me. Fluffy snapped at Geoff's hand and very nearly took it off. The Klingon rider roared in laughter. The UT had finally hashed through enough of the updated Klingon dialect to start providing a serviceable, if not perfect, translation. Geoff hoped that was true from the Klingon perspective as well. Teller: It seems my companions and I have gotten lost here and we much appreciate your assistance. Could you point us towards the nearest town or road, we should be on our way? The spearpoint waivered slightly, the rider becoming more and more uncertain of their quarry. Geoff knew Klingon patience would not last and he pressed on with his most sincere expression. Teller: Very fine spear you have there my friend...don't suppose you have any of those for trade? As you can see, my companions and I do not carry weapons like this. Peri, why don't you stand yourself up and come over here, check out the craftsmanship of this fine spear! Fluffy here is very friendly. Geoff felt ever so slightly bad for stretching the truth as the weight of his phaser pressed against his hip, concealed under his ash covered poncho. They still had one other ace in the hole in the form of the still concealed Ensign Dar. Geoff updated his mental note - she could skip the refresher class. At this rate, she'd be the one teaching it. Katsim/Dar: Response Behind him a few meters Alex stepped out of his ineffective concealment with open arms, slowly approaching him and Peri with the juvenile klingon following close behind. To Geoff, the warrior looked jumpy and nervous, as if he'd never experienced anything like this before. Brodie: There…now we can talk. Tell me, who do I have the honour of addressing? The Klingons eyes narrowed, his suspicions deepening. Betlak: Response Brodie: 'ej qaStaHvIS ram, joHwI', batlhlIj. ((Honour to you, and to your house)) He switched things back to normal for the benefit of all. Brodie: I am Alexander…of Clan Brodie. Geoff smiled appreciatively at Brodie's discretion, which reenforced his bluff wonderfully. Teller: And as long as we're making proper introductions I'm Geoff of the Clan Teller. And we're...::Geoff very quickly considered his options::...scholars. Well, he'd said it. Scholars. He could make this work. Maybe. Katsim/Dar: Responses Betlak: Response Brodie: We don't want a conflict, Betlak. Geoff could feel the mood souring. He only hoped Dar was paying attention. Behind his back and out of the Klingons line of sight Geoff fanned his fingers out in a message to Dar and hopefully to Alex. Five. Teller: Indeed, in fact we were just about to head out. We'll just collect our gear and... A thrown spear landed at Teller's feet and dug into the ground several centimeters, a clear warning not to move. Betlak himself dismounted and hit the ground with a pronounced thud. Between the armor and the simply massive bulk of the klingon himself, Geoff suspected about one hundred and fifty kilos of angry were bearing down on him. He curled another finger. Four. Brodie/Katsim/Dar: Responses Betlak closed to within spitting distance, towering over Geoff and flexing heavily armored hands in menacing anticipation. Betlak: Response Three. Teller: Well there's no need for that, I told you - we're simply scholars who got a bit lost! An armored fist clamped around Teller's neck and lifted him bodily into the air. Geoff croaked for breath and curled another finger. Two. Teller:...would...you...have...believed...merchants? One. The burning eyes and deep growl suggested he would not. Geoff curled his last finger and a moment later all hell broke loose. The sound of a phaser piercing the air. Guttural shouts in Klingon. Geoff felt himself tumbling to the ground and rolled to avoid being devoured by a furious but spooked targ. Brodie/Katsim/Dar: Responses Geoff managed to wrestle his phaser out of its holster and rolled to his feet, firing repeatedly to discourage the onrushing targs. The fact that all his shots hit had everything to do with the sheer size of the beasts. Geoff shouted and hoped to be heard over the din. Teller: Fall back to Dar's position, keep laying down covering fire. Brodie/Katsim/Dar: Responses Geoff ducked behind one of the odd hexagonal columns, barely dodging the business end of a whistling blade. Teller: =/\= Teller to Thor, get us out of.... Betlak: Response Something struck Geoff on the back of his head and he staggered, his vision going red and blurry. Shapes became indistinct and he fell to the ground, only capable of dragging himself forward with his arms. He didn't get far before something heavy landed on his back and began pressing down. Geoff could already feel his spine creaking but somehow it seemed far away. Brodie/Katsim/Dar: Responses Under the crushing weight of Betlak's boot Geoff couldn't breath and his already blurry vision darkened to a point of light. As he struggled vainly and slipped into unconsciousness Geoff's last lucid thought was the desperate hope his team had gotten away. Brodie/Katsim/Dar: Responses Tags/End Act 1 for Teller! =============================== Commander Geoffrey Teller Executive Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 Commodore A. Kells, Commanding V239509GT0

Our intrepid leader in motion 🤣🙈

@Sirok Sobok, former captain, nap connoisseur.

Gra'vel: humanoid specialist XD

Jehe is a pleasure to read and how @Brutus is able to weave his character (with her opinions and ideas) into the plot by taking everything his fellow writers have established is a real delight, and an example of good simming manners. Great job! (( Troop Compartment, Valkyrie 1 )) Up until this point, Jehe Saja had been relatively unaware of the existence of the Valkyrie wing aboard the Thor. Having researched the origins of the ship's name, having the Valkyrie's aboard seemed almost poetic. This appreciation for the religious origins of the did not extend to an appreciation for the somewhat cramped confines of the interior of the small craft. All in all, she decided that she rather prefered a runabout to one of these things, and lamented that they had not been sent out aboard the Ra. She liked the I, having a soft spot for the craft she had delivered to the Thor herself from Deep Space Nine when she'd first come aboard. For now though, that was neither her nor there. Rouiancet: I'm sure you're all wondering what this is about. Jehe: oO Well yes... OOC Saja leaned in, tapping a PADD against her knee as she listened, and tried not to fidget with the second pip on her collar. Quickly, the Commander ran through a mission briefing. Essentially, the Valkyries were supposed to do a brief census of the solar system -- and it was the Valkyries, as opposed to any of the other craft that the Thor carried, just in case they ran into anything that required some extra defenses. A point in favor of the strike craft over runabout, Saja was forced to concede. Rouiancet: So far as we know, there are no warp-capable species in this solar system. But the sheer size of the system -- dozens of planets and planetoids and moons -- means we may be missing something. Henderson: Makes sense ma'am. This is sorta where we shine, giving the Thor a little extra autonomous reach. Singh: Wasn't that your nickname in flight school, Ringo? ::Ishani smirked apologetically:: Sorry Commander. Jehe: I'm fairly certain I don't want to know the context behind that. ::The delivery was deadpan, but sparks of mirth danced in her eyes.:: Rouiancet: I was hoping that you three would have some ideas. (to Jehe) I know we're far out, but is there any information about this system? Even a long-range survey that might give us somewhere to start? Jehe: This place is way out in the back of beyond, as it were. The Jessok system hadn't even been surveyed on long range sensors when the ship we're looking for crash landed. That said, I do have some details we can use for a starting point. ::She wiggled her PADD.:: It's not much to go on but I can have it loaded into Valkyrie's main computer. The Commander nodded but gave nothing away, even as Saja tried to get a read on her reaction. Without comment to her, the other woman turned toward the marines. Rouiancet: You two will have a much better idea of how to search a system of this size than I do. If we have to go back to the very beginning, how should we start? Singh: Won't be a problem Commander. The squadron can go to maximum dispersal to extend our overall sensor coverage - it will take a bit for everyone to get into position but we should be able to conduct a quick and discreet survey of the system. If anything decides to be unfriendly, the formation collapses inwards towards the attacker from all sides. Low risk profile in this situation, Commander. Henderson: Really Snowball? I figured you'd just want to do barrel rolls around the system. Singh: Please ignore Lt. Henderson, Commander. When he was four someone told him he was clever and he never let it go. Henderson: In all seriousness ma'am, I agree. The Valkyrie is a good fighter. Top of the line sensors for small craft. We'll be able to cover a lot of space pretty quickly that way, and if something weird comes up, we can always return to a rally point. Ishani allowed a small grin and nodded. Getting a word in edgewise between these two was going to be a challenge, but Saja didn't mind much. Sometimes it was simply the wisest course available to keep your mouth shut and observe. Singh: We can get you a very detailed survey of the system and as many of the celestial bodies as you need. If you can give us specifics to focus on we'll make them a priority. If not, I'll head back upstairs and relay orders to the rest of the flight. Rouiancet: Unless Lieutenant Jehe has anything more specific, then I'd suggest we start with subspace tech and matter/antimatter reactions. That should be a good start if we're looking for anyone who might be warp-capable. Jehe: Given the sheer number of celestial bodies in this system it's going to be about as easy as baiting a Tyrfox in its own den. On the one hand I'd suggest starting with anything in the habitable zone, but on the other hand, given the right conditions any of the larger bodies could be converted into some sort of outpost so...::She shrugged her shoulders and leaned back. No Intelligence officer liked to be without answers to give.:: I'll upload what I have, and we can run a filter against it I suppose. Where can I sync up? Henderson: There's not much in the way of auxiliary consoles for these ships. They're designed for just a crew of two plus a few troops if needed. . . (pausing in thought) I'm sure we can pipe in all of the sensor controls to that mission planning console though. Singh: If not, I'm happy to make Ringo available to you as a runner. (with a wicked smile) In fact, anything you need, just consider Lt. Henderson here your man. Rouiancet: I appreciate it, if you can spare him. Lt. Jehe leaned over and passed the PADD off to Henderson, after having encrypted all the other files. Jehe: Make sure I get that back. Henderson: Consider it done. (Turning toward the ladder) Come on Snowball, lets get this baby moving! Singh: That's a solid copy, Ringo. Commander. Lieutenant. Enjoy the flight...(with a glance around)...as much as you can. Saja watched them head off, shaking her head a bit, before she felt the mission leader's eyes settling in on her. There was a weight in Rouiancet's gaze that was almost physical, as the Bajoran swept her hair back from in front of her face and leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. Rouiancet: What do you think? For my part, I can't help but wonder how a starship could have crashed all the way out here. Jehe: Given just how far away from the battle fronts of the 2250's this ship is? ::She blew out a puff of air, shoulders slumping a bit.:: None of the likely answers are good. Rouiancet: Response Jehe: Well there's any number of interstellar phenomena that could have done this. ::She started ticking off options on her fingers.:: Graviton Ellipses. Soliton Waves. Wormholes. It'd be a stretch, but they could have stumbled into a transwarp corridor for all we know. Can't rule out abduction by a higher form of intelligent species either. I have plenty of records of such things happening all across Federation history. Rouiancet: Response Jehe: That's fair, ma'am. I don't really expect this to be the work of the so-called Preservers. Though if we find an Obelisk in the system somewhere I reserve the right to freak out. Ma'am. Rouiancet: Response. (Tags & TBC) ========== Lt. (jg) Jehe Saja Intelligence Officer USS Thor T239712JS0

I..... i shouldn't have laugh so much with this 🙈

There is a story here @Alex Brodie

Welcomento the fleet!!!

I hate that @Geoffrey Tellermake me laugh EVERY TIME he drops one of this lines out of the blue

The closing of this scene is a new emotional roller coaster to which we have become accustomed, @Wes Greaves and @Alora DeVeau as Katsim Peri. Using their characters to make a mini mission of their own they have written more than 40k words (I have no facts but no doubts about this number) with a delicious and exciting arc that has made the characters and the relationship between them grow a lot. Good job guys! Here for the next arc of this Now, kiss Capt Wes Greaves - Cruelty of Vulcans ((Hours after the Odin’s rescue, Main Sickbay, Deck 10, USS Thor)) Nothingness slowly resolved into something. A sense of feeling. A sense of awareness. The feel of a shifting air on his cheek. A dull aching pain deep within his body, dulled by medication. His ears became aware of a faint beeping sound not far off. Then he heard soft footsteps approach, and then recede. His head swam, trying to process it all. How long had he been asleep. Where was he? Slowly, Wes Greave's eyes fluttered open. The stark contrast between the lights overhead and the darkness of unconsciousness made him squint his eyes. Ever so gently he turned his head to the side. Alieth sat a few feet away. Dark red surgical scrubs were soaked in sweat… and other dark splotches spoke to the work she'd recently finished. His throat was dry, and as he attempted to speak his voice was weak and raspy. Greaves: Alieth… where… where am I? Alieth: In the sickbay my friend, you held out for seven hours before Quen could take care of you. He turned his head back to the front. Laying flat on his back in the bed, his view consisted of only the ceiling and the lights overhead. Each passing minute made the light seem less harsh as his eyes adjusted. Greaves: (Weakly smiling) Well, seems like I made it doc. I'm sure I'll be up and about any moment now, yeah? Alieth rubbed her eyes, and looked at her friend. Pale and with dark circles around his eyes. Bruises that they hadn't bothered to remove, not for the moment, on practically half of the exposed skin of his body. Alieth: Before that, I want you to understand how you had been doing. You had plasma burns over 36% of your body, a broken arm in three places and seven broken ribs. I had to reconstruct four vertebrae and despite EXTENSIVE use of the osteoregenerator, you have a good handful of medical supplies inside your body to keep everything in place for a few weeks. I would kick you to the gator deck right now if I did not already know that you were going to ruin my work there, but at this moment I do not even want to look at you. He turned his head back to look at his friend. Rattling off his injuries gave Wes a new appreciation for how bad it had been. He was lucky to be alive. Or rather, he was alive due to the exceptional skill of the medical staff. Luck really only played a small part. When he finally met Alieth's eyes she gave him THE STARE. One that, however, wasn't as caustic as it used to be since there was a noticeable concern in her dark eyes, one she couldn't suppress in spite of her self-control. It had taken a year, but Wes finally could see past her façade more often than not. She was angry, but she was worried about him. The thought sent a chill through his heart and a shudder down his spine. Greaves: So… I take it I won't be up and about any time soon. Alieth: Unfortunately, that concussion you had was a bad one, and I want to keep you under observation. Nauseous? Greaves: No, not right now. Alieth: Well, if it changes, let me know. Now, follow the light. His mind was still foggy, and Wes hoped it was due to the drugs in his system and not some lasting injury. Through the fog however broke a single powerful thought. Something that had driven him on that icy rock. A single word that had given him the strength and focus to stay alive until the Thor could save them. Peri. Greaves: Wait, Doc, before we start… She extracted a small torch from the trolley where the tea was cooling and moved it from right to left, up and down in front of his eyes. Despite his protests, she did not speak until she was satisfied with the test. Alieth: Okay, now you can inquire Dread filled his chest, preparing to ask the question. He almost didn't want the answer. The unknown was more comforting that the possible. Still, he needed to know. Greaves: What about Peri? Alieth: She died, Wes. The dread popped like a balloon and the man physically recoiled in the bed. Immediately tears sprang to his eyes but he fought them back as best he could, blinking several times. A battle of sorrow and anger began roiling within his mind and threatened to overwhelm him. Greaves: No, Alieth, she can't… she can't be.. He couldn't bring himself to say it. He tried so hard. Driven so hard. He'd stretched himself past where he ever thought he could have. Fighting through some of the worst pain and exhaustion of his life to keep Peri alive. To save them both. To save her. Her final words echoed in his mind as a tear escaped the corner of his eye and slid silently down his cheek. Alieth: She was dead for seventeen minutes and forty-three seconds before we were able to restore her heart rate. A faint groaning sound rang out from the next biobed. Alieth allowed herself a smile, tiny and bright, before she hid it behind her tea cup and took a short sip. Alieth: Mister Greaves, welcome Miss Katsim to the world of the living. And be grateful to the Prophets and her Cardassian heritage. For a moment he had nothing to say. The weight of the reveal was so shocking, so utterly foreign to the rage and sorrow fighting in his mind, he simply had no reaction. Wes didn't know what or how to feel. Finally, a shocked laugh broke his silence. A laugh that sounded out of place, but felt so right. A laugh that contained within it shock, joy, and life. From his bed he couldn't see Peri, even when he craned his neck to try. Still, he called out to his friend. Greaves: Peri? Katsim: Response Greaves: It's… It's good to hear your voice. Katsim: Response Alieth: Response Greaves: Are we going to have any lasting injuries? Alieth: Response Katsim: Response Greaves: I understand. (smiling wider) No more shuttle rides for a little while then. Alieth/Katsim: Response Greaves: Now that you mention it, I really could use a nap. You'll never believe this doc, but I feel like I got hit by a freight train. [[End Scene for Greaves]] ========================= Captain (SFMC) Wes Greaves Marine Detachment Commander USS Thor - NCC 82607 E239702WG0 =========================

Ensign Jehe aka @Brutus is a real delight to read. In the short time she has been writing her character she has left us with little gems like this one, in which she juggles several scenes outside the bridge to coordinate her own, with the input of all her writting partners and is able to combine tension, humour, snark and a fine, direct prose that lets us getting to know Saja really well. Plus, why deny it, it's a blast to read this intelligence officer trying to park a whale in a thimbleful of water. Good work Bru! __________________________________________________ ((Bridge, Deck 1, USS Thor)) Jehe: Sorry Ma'am, that's about as refined as I can make it. Rouiancet: That's fine. (beat, thinking) Ensign Glass, you said that we couldn't transport through the planetoid's radiation belt. But if the Odin ran into trouble, another shuttle might as well, especially if we don't know what caused the crash. (another beat) What if we took the Thor down? Glass:...Thats true Ma'am...although they would have hit it unexpectedly, while we would have the benefit of knowing what the problem is likely to be....that said though, I'd be happier taking the Thor down rather than a little shuttle! Saja looked at the mess on the viewscreen, then back over at Glass, and for a moment contemplated tartly asking the Ensign if he'd like to take over helm then, if he was happier taking a ship designed to be in the depths of space into an atmosphere. Jehe: We're not designed for atmospheric operations - not that there is much of an atmosphere down there. ::A frown graced her lips.:: Please tell me we're not going to need to set down on the planet? I have never landed a ship this big...Does it even have landing gear? Lia gave a brief shake of her head, far quicker than Saja could look up that specific stat about the ship's configuration. Up until this point, it was not something the young Intelligence specialist had needed to know. Rouiancet: We wouldn't have to land, but what if we went down below 50 kilometers from the surface? Would we be able to do that? Would the transporters be able to cut through the radiation at that distance? Glass: If the transporters still can't beam them up at 50 clicks from the surface, then we'll have a shorter distance to travel in the shuttle....so either way it's a good idea! Jehe: Hard to argue with that logic. She wondered if his enthusiasm was all from nerves, just like her somewhat snarky demeanor. In truth, both of them cared about the occupants of the shuttle. That much had to be clear to the other officers dotting the bridge. With that in mind, the Bajoran redoubled her efforts to calculate the best approach vector, leveraging the ship's computer heavily and trying to remind herself that she had, in fact, flown vessels in the past, even if they weren't quite this large. Rouiancet: Let's give it a try. (beat, deep breath) Bring us down. Jehe: Aye ma'am, beginning descent vector. Kell gripped the sides of his console as the Thor began descending to the planetoid surface - Saja could damn near feel the tension coming off of the man, but she couldn't look back at him, nor the Lt. Commander. Her entire focus was on the controls ahead, eyes flicked up occasionally to visually verify the readings Jehe: Brace for atmospheric breach. A light flashed on the panel in front of her, but a quick sweep of her fingers dismissed it. There was hardly any resistance to speak of on the class D world. The transition was thus much smoother than Saja felt she'd had any right to expect. Not that she was going to complain. Rouiancet: The moment we're in range, I want them beamed out. Glass: Atmospheric shields holding at 86% Ma'am....the computer will kick in transport as soon as it acquires lock! Jehe: We're through what passes for the upper atmosphere.::As she spoke, the ship gave a small shudder, which did nothing at all for her nerves.:: Now it's just dealing with the gravity well. Steady....steady... A whine began to fill the bridge, and Saja realized it was the sound of wind ripping over the ship's hull. In space, nothing of the sort would happen, but even in the thin atmosphere of this tiny rock in space, it was enough to be audibly eerie. Glass: Transporter lock established.....beam up in progress Ma'am! Jehe: oOHey, if you're listening, Prophets, now would be a really good time for a favor...Oo Rouiancet: =/\= Bridge to Transporter Room 1. Do you have them? =/\= Quen / M. Salo / Richards: =/\= Responses =/\= Greaves / Katsim: =/\= Responses, if any =/\= Kell slumped in his seat, letting out a sigh. Glass: Thank the lord...I thought we'd lost them there for a second! Jehe: We're not out if this yet She hated to have to remind him of that, but even as she spoke the Thor rocked slightly. Rouiancet/Glass: response Jehe: Now that we're closer, any chance we can pull the Odin up with us? She didn't care about the ship, not really. She wanted to keep her mind off the injuries that Wes and Peri might have had. Rouiancet/Glass: Response ========== Ens. Jehe Saja Intelligence Officer USS Thor T239712JS0