Alieth

Antagonist you love to hate. Setting the bar high here @Geoffrey Teller! (just.... THAT signature) ________________________ ((Anroc's private villa, level 801, Saldanian Corporate Hegemony Headquarters)) Sher’ok Borac had somehow survived the last few hours without being summarily liquidated by staying as invisible as possible. Anything at all that could've brought the wrath of Anroc down on him had been handed off or deferred until a slightly less lethal time could be found. Sher'ok had been lucky so far, but his luck had come to an end with this new alien horror. They expected President Pitorian Tolo’Sal’Lat’Ut’Kel’Tras Anroc, First Eternal, Most Exalted Administrator to do the unthinkable. They had the gaul to ask Anroc to contact them. It was a violation of every corporate protocol and Hostile Takeovers, with an emphasis on the Hostile, had been fought over smaller insults between Eternals. Sher'ok had run the words around in his mind a multitude of times, trying to find a way to deliver the message that wouldn't immediately cause Anroc to have him thrown off the side of the building, or worse. The staff had all heard rumors of something called the Silent Gallery, a space whose location and purpose was known only to Anroc himself. Sher'ok tried to push the rumors out of his mind as he stepped into Anroc's majestic presence his stomachs rumbling in distress. Borac: Wonderous President Pitorian Tolo’Sal’Lat’Ut’Kel’Tras Anroc, First Eternal, Beloved & Benevolent, Ever.... Pitorian Anroc had been diverting himself, watching some of the Starfleet things scrabbling around his holdings like clumsy interns. It was already clear to Anroc who the real superior beings were in this situation, and the answer was the same to him as it had been yesterday, and the day before, and a thousand days before that. He was Superior. He was Eternal. He'd take the aliens for all they had and when he was done, he'd use what he'd gained to take more. Soon, all that was would know his magnificence. His pleasant megalomaniacal musings were interrupted by one of the interminable swarm of Ephemerals in his personal staff. With a dour scowl, Anroc lazily extended a single digit. Sniffing the air with an exaggerated gesture, Anroc settled his gaze on the half-bowing Borac. Anroc: Why have you brought such a foul odor into my presence? Borac: My...President. The aliens...yes they...they wish to do as you have commanded, of course, and will put you in direct contact with their leader. We have a biographical file based on exit interviews performed on the returning crew of the Endless Golden Penetrator. There is a full psychological analysis included and I'm sure you'll be pleased to... Anroc's scowl deepened dangerously. Anroc: Do not presume to guess what will and will not please me. So? Where is he? Where is this Kells? Borac gulped uncomfortably, stomachs threatening to rebel on the spot. Borac: Mr. President, sir, the aliens...they have asked you to contact them. To arrange the meeting. ::Borac could feel himself sweating:: We tried to explain to them that this simply wasn't done, and that they were flying in the face of all civilized business, but they.. For the second time today, Borac heard the wretched sound of an Eternals laughter. Chancing to glance up, Borac caught a flash of murderous glee in Anroc's eyes before hastily turning his face back to the floor. Anroc: These aliens have finally realized how badly they have misjudged me and they're trying to appear strong. ::Anroc's laughter was cold and sharp, like a winter chill that penetrated the bone and lingered long after:: Pathetic. I shall show them the strength of Eternity. Anroc summoned an attendant with a strong beverage which he slowly consumed over the next few minutes, wordlessly studying the report on Fleet Captain Aron Kells. Borac didn't dare move or twitch. He was as frozen as the ephemerals who were assigned to 'biological ornamentation' duties around the villa, holding curtains and wearing next to nothing. By the time Anroc was done skimming the file, his smile had grown horrifyingly predatory. Anroc: Yes, it amuses me to speak with someone these people consider a leader. Contact them. I will grace them with my presence...now. Borac tapped a few controls into a device on his wrist and the connection was made. The familiar SalComm Logo pulsed briefly and then he was face to face with his prey. Anroc wasted no time. Anroc: Have you finally decided to meet with me yourself, Aron, or do you have a few more underlings to waste my time with? To the aliens credit, his shock was momentary and quickly disguised. Anroc focused ever so slightly more, sensing at least some mettel in this being. Kells: I would be happy to, Shipmaster. My officers did come with my full support and authority, however. Anroc rolled his eyes expansively and took a long sip of yet another narcotic tonic. Anroc: For a moment I thought you were serious about meeting. I see it's clear you don't even comprehend to whom you are speaking. ::Anroc stood, resplendid and magnificent:: I am Pitorian Tolo’Sal’Lat’Ut’Kel’Tras Anroc. President of the Saldanian Corporate Hegemony. My role as Shipmaster was only a small and trifling affair compared to the enormity of my domain. Had you not dragged the Penetrator back here in shame I doubt I ever would have thought of it again. Kells: Well, as you say. Anroc: Yes, good, get used to that. I will tell you what is, and you will agree. That is the backbone of our corporate structure, and it has held firm for centuries. Brodie: Responses Anroc: Oh, you do more underlings. Perhaps this one has your authority as well? Brodie/Kells: Response Anroc: I have offered your people Eternity and you would waste my time with formalities? You will meet with me, of that I am certain. Brodie/Kells: Response Anroc: I see you can be sensible when properly motivated and focused. I will be looking forward to our negotiations. I'm certain they'll be fruitful. Brodie/Kells: Response Pitorian Anroc's smile pressed into a lethal line. Anroc: Before we begin, I'd like to clarify something. ::Anroc beckoned for an attendant at random. The exquisitely beautiful Zet who kneeled in front of him a moment later couldn't have been more than a few years into her internship, and she trembled under his gaze. Anroc felt a pleasant warmth:: Run at that wall as fast as you can. Without hesitation, the young girl took off at a full sprint towards the nearest wall, gaining more speed with each long stride until she struck the wall with a sickening crack of bone and muscle. Leaving a long dark stain on the otherwise perfect wall the body slid to the floor, twitching only once before going still. Anroc: That is how I define authority. Pitorian basked in their horror for a long moment before cutting the connection, searching for his drink. The exquisite young girls body had vanished and the wall was already being cleaned by the time he found it. [Tags/End Act 2 for Anroc!] ========== Pitorian Tolo’Sal’Lat’Ut’Kel’Tras Anroc Owner & Guildmaster Extraordinary, First Eternal, President for Life of the Saldanian Corporate Hegemony, Beloved & Benevolent, Everlasting & Magnificent, Supreme Conqueror of the Void, Venerated By Children, Arbiter of Contractual Justice, First Contacted Among Corporations, Supreme Managerial Authority V239509GT0

If i recall well, Jo made it in some former polls, so there is still a chance!

Even if every one of this are fascinating, i'll go with other and vote for the First Federation-Cardassian War. It's something that has been left as some important part of Picard or O'Brien history, yet we know barely a thing about them. I'm here to see more cardassians being themselves

Welcome to the fleet!

The level od SASS that @Quen Deena can percolate sky rocket in this sim. I loved it! ____ ((Transporter Room 1, Deck 1, USS Thor)) She still had to make that punch-card for Teller. And probably Alieth, too, while she was at it. Both of them had been among the injured beamed over from the Penetrator. Deena would have liked to say she was surprised, but… she wasn't. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she ought to start a betting pool: every time one of them leaves the ship, guess the number of minutes before they come back knocked out. Maybe the Zet would find it funny…. But knowing them, gambling on injuries sustained by the boss was probably a severe violation of contract. Speaking of the Zet, it had been an… interesting few days. The biggest hurdle they’d encountered was, by far, the cultural divide between Starfleet and the Zet. From what she’d managed to glean from the plethora of untreated conditions and anxieties over payment, their society was transactional enough to make the Ferengi look generous. Verbal assurances had gotten them nowhere. Salo and Rumboldt had come together to tweak one of the standard injury report forms to include some nonsense about method of payment cobbled together from a variety of historical datafiles. Apparently, it made just enough sense to keep the majority of the Zet distracted enough to allow the medical teams to administer proper treatment before consigning the PADDs to the growing electronic graveyard on Dr Alieth’s desk. Unfortunately, that had attracted the attention of members of the Penetrator's crew who announced themselves as middle management and demanded a complex series of meetings be undertaken. Presumably, the intent was to negotiate… something - probably the nonexistent price tag, if she had to guess. Their requests piled one on top of the other, so filled with jargon and acronyms even the universal translator couldn’t make them make sense. Deena had come quite close to having some rather unprofessional words with a particularly insistent one when Connelly lit on the idea to have the middle managers meet amongst themselves to discuss the planning of the meetings. She owed the woman a beer for that. Several. What was the collective noun for a group of middle managers anyway? An obstruction? She smirked to herself. It was at least accurate, if not correct. The officers took position around the transporter pad and Geoff nodded to Chief Larell, but paused before stepping onto the pad. Teller: Doctors, Ensign, glad we're all here. The situation is this ::Geoff tapped on a nearby display and showed images from the planet:: We began beaming down our evacuees to a location they designated as their 'mandated domicile,' but they're being turned away and we're not sure why. We've had to temporarily stop relaying people to the ground until we can sort this out. Quen: Why do I get the feeling this has something to do with the mysterious meeting that started four days ago? Alieth gave a slight nod at her department colleague's input. Alieth: I concur. Anything else we need to consider whilst we are on the surface? Teller: Well, in addition to making sure the people you treated actually have homes to go back to the Fleet Captain wants us to take a look around. A through one. I don't know about you three, but some of what we saw on the Penetrator left a real bad taste in my mouth. We need to understand the Zet better and until we do, lets keep digging. Questions? Katsim: No sir. Deena shook her head. Oh, she had questions, all right - none that any of them could answer, of course... Alieth: Nor do I, Commander Teller: Very well, eyes open, best behavior...::Geoff was speaking to himself as much as anything, considering his introduction:: we're the friendly aliens you... Deena had a half-formed quip about "best behavior" including not becoming The Concussion Crew, but the transporter cycle took hold before she could get it out, whisking the away team off the ship. ((Employee Esplanade 993 - Saldanian Life@Home Employee Mandated Domicile Services, LLC)) What hit Deena first was the headache-inducing contrast between the dark, dinghy metals and grimy glass of the buildings (amplified by the lack of natural light), and the eye-watering brilliance of loud advertisements that were artificially lit with what could only be described as the power of a thousand suns. Instinctively, her hand went up to shield her eyes until they had a chance to adjust. What she wouldn’t give for a set of inner eyelids right now… Of course, those tended to come with a set of overly-sensitive olfactory glands. Which, now that the aroma was coming through, would probably not be a good thing. Burnt metal, rot, bodily fluids; a rank, stomaching churning aroma of hopelessness and misery mixed with cheap food and poor hygiene. Half a pace in front of her, Alieth stumbled back a step and gripped Deena’s arm to steady herself. She was a bit surprised her colleague was still conscious. The scent hung so thickly in the air, it was beginning to settle on Deena’s tongue. Their destination was an office several hundred meters into the structure but they had chosen to land outside, where some of their former guests were milling around or encamped along the perimeter. Teller: Vice Associate Rod'gurs...what seems to be going on here? Why aren't the crew going inside? From what she’d learned of their emotional expression, the Zet seemed deeply troubled - treading on depressed. Rod'gurs: A Capital Loss. Declared Capital Loss. Ledger closed. Credit history gone. No severance. Alieth: You mean the shipwreck? The Penetrator's fate? Deena blinked, confused. The words themselves sounded familiar enough - the order, not so much. Quen: What does that mean - "capital loss"? Rod'gurs: All of us. Written off. ::Shaggee made a choking sort of noise somewhere between a giggle and a sob.:: Declared a loss. It was the most fiscally prudent move for the Corporation. Teller: Is there anyone we can discuss this with here? The Zet seemed to fall back into a prepared sales presentation. The words seemed repeated from deep memory. Rod'gurs: The Saldanian corp arcology complete domicile solution is a remarkable innovation in low operational cost minimal survivability living. To streamline administrative, judicial and civic oversight, local arcology directors will have broad discretion in matters of employee housing retention or termination. ::The zet snapped out of his fugue, now making eye contact with Geoff.:: You might be able to schedule a meeting with them, but it'll be several rotations until they even meet again for an emergency. We'd need to file an emergency motion and... Deena resisted the urge to roll her eyes. A Ferengi dream - a nightmare for everyone else. A nightmare was still technically a dream, yes? Teller: I think they'll meet with us. Lead the way, Mr. Rod'gurs. Everyone else - take all the readings you can as we work our way into this structure ::Geoff stepped in something, paused, and shook his head.::...and watch your step. Alieth: Understood. ::turning to the Bajoran:: Doctor Quen, gather data on any Zet we come across, cross-reference it with what we gathered on the Thor. As she said this, she pulled out a tricorder that had been clipped to her hip and started scanning the surroundings. Deena did the same, until she caught a glimpse of something large and multi-legged with a vaguely furry shell skittering away from the path into a grimy, dark crevice. Quen: So long as someone keeps an eye out for the *ahem* wildlife... Soon they were all trotting towards their destination, most of them with their noses practically buried in their tricorders. There were dozens, perhaps hundreds of Zet nearby and, as far as any of them could determine, none of them were in any state one could rightly call "healthy". Most of the infants had some degree of malnutrition or developmental problems. Over half showed mutations due to toxins or early exposure to radioactive substances. Almost all of the adults examined appeared to be on the verge of exhaustion. Injuries or scars were common and were a sign of a violent life or gruelling work. Many of the Zet in range had implants of some kind: limbs, organs, in the case of one particularly large Zet who stopped as they passed, almost his entire skull had been replaced by cybernetics. Deena’s focus narrowed in on the pulsing, angry readings coming from the device in her hand. Alieth: Admittedly, the Penetrator crew were the height of health compared to this population. Deena was silent for a moment. She’d been thinking the same thing. A tiny part of her had been clinging to the faint hope that what they’d seen on the Penetrator was the result of extraordinary circumstances and not indicative of the whole. Unfortunately, that was in fact the case - just not the way she’d imagined... Quen: Somehow, I was still hoping we would see better… ::beat:: I’m picking up a large number of parasitic infections as well - it’s not just the visible. Teller: Response Alieth: Perhaps, but I would prefer to have a larger sample before making a hypothesis. The shadow of the building fell over them as they crossed the arched entrance. The stench there was even worse than before. In the gloomy corridor a number of Zet lay in a pile, some asleep, some with their gaze transfixed on the ceiling and an expression of bliss that could only be indicative of extensive drug intake. A low beep from Alieth’s tricorder indicated that at least one of the Zet had already died. Deena glanced down at her own, and gave a subtle, somber nod as confirmation. Katsim: I don’t understand how people could live like that. The words were soft, spoken more to herself than for the sake of conversation. Alieth: Neither do I. Deena’s eyes swept the scene, her heart aching with both anger and empathy. Take away the garish advertisements - add in a fine layer of ore dust, a haze of smoke, a fence.... Change the species, of course. She’d seen enough holoimages to recognise the parallels. Wouldn’t exactly be an uncommon sight a generation ago on her world - an endless feedback loop of hopelessness and poverty, no escape except... Quen: ::softly:: It’s not always a choice... Teller: Response Alieth: Yes sir. Their steps led them to an inner courtyard, revealing the myriad balconies that hung from each floor, trying to catch the smallest percentage of natural light that seeped dirty and miserable into that sort of oversized skylight. On either side were staircases, spiralling sluggishly up each floor until they disappeared into the heights, while at the bottom, facing them, the inviting door of a lift glittered, its sides and interior ablaze with a thousand screens full of advertising, from the nutritious substitute solyent greenery to corporate advertisements about the need to raise a herd of children to contribute to the next generation of corporate employees. The garish visual assault made Deena’s head pound. Alieth: The use of the lift means a supplementary charge of 1.5% per each dozen floors, which will be automatically deducted from the company's payroll with every usage. A recurrent user discount can be claimed provided that you present the certificate 454b for essential workers or provide the document 33t section 88 of progeny cession .... Anyway, there seems to be a fee for its use. Teller/Katsim: Response Quen: No chance of an out-of-towners’ discount, I suppose? Deena was half-joking. Or so she thought. The Vulcan glanced at the text once more, her eyes sweeping over the text and then narrowing even further until she reached the fine print. Alieth: Non-corporate visitors, workers from other corporations or other uncovered visitors may use the service in exchange for one day lease of work for SalCorp per floor climbed, being at least 80 hexaclicks per week or 40 if the applicant applies as a subject for experimentation of new SalCorp products not authorized yet by Central Business Agency….Maybe stairs then? How many floors do we have to climb? Deena grumbled under her breath. Slave labor and experimentation... Quen: Why am I not surprised? Teller/Katsim/Alieth: Response Quen: Well - stairs it is, I guess. Unless anybody feels like spending a couple extra months here… Teller/Katsim/Alieth: Response Quen: Any good hiking songs among those sea shanties, Commander? Teller: Response Katsim/Alieth: Response Tag/TBC __________ Lieutenant Quen Deena Medical Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 E239602QD0

Absolutely biased to "Family" so a good deal of stuff going on there ❤️

@Wes Greaves is a great scene creator, and the flavour he give to each scene he creates could introduce you fully in a strange new world, as much as give a LOT of space for his fellow writers to developt the plot themselves. Awesome cooperative writing on display of a great writer. Good job man! -------- Capt Wes Greaves - Extravagance Greaves’s Personal Log – It’s a strange feeling. The skipper put me in charge the away team to meet with one of the Zet. A pretty important one by all accounts. I’ve led teams before, but not like this. This is a group of officers under my charge, on an exceptionally strange first contact situation. When they talk at the Academy about being prepared for the unexpected, well I guess they were right. We’ve all been briefed on the very little we know about these people. Capitalistic ideals taken to an extreme. Some kind of significant class structure. It event seems that most of the Zet on the Penetrator were both in awe of and terrified of the upper class. I’m concerned with how the Federation’s ideals might clash with the Zet, but that’s what first contact is. A meeting of worlds. Let’s hope this is one of the smoother meetings. End log. ((Saldanian Corporate Hegemony Headquarters, Zet Homeworld)) The building was exceptional. That was the only word Wes could think of to describe it. They had beamed onto the planet at the described coordinates and time. There they found themselves in a giant plaza amidst a sprawling city in front of one of the tallest buildings Wes had ever seen. It looked like the entire thing was made of some kind of marble that shone with some kind of internal iridescent light. The plaza itself was circular and ringed by dozens of shining statues made of what looked like gold. Each statue depicted a different Zet, and without context, Wes had no idea who or what they stood for. The plaza itself was mostly deserted, with only a handful of Zet standing on the perimeter a few dozen meters away. They all had their backs to the away team and carried some sort of long metallic looking device which Wes assumed was some kind of weapon. If he had to guess, these were the building’s security, and the most likely reason that the plaza and the immediate vicinity was deserted. Greaves: Not exactly the welcome wagon I was expecting. Where is everyone? Dar/Sirok/Jehe: Responses Wes nodded along with the officer and caught some movement out of the corner of his eye. The doors to the massive building slid open to reveal a pale Zet who strode out across the plaza toward the team. If Wes didn’t know any better he’d say that the Zet looked nervous. It’s eyes darted back and forth between the away team members. He could hardly blame it. They were all aliens to the Zet. Borac: Hello, I am Sher’ok Borac. Please come with me. Owner and Guildmaster Extraordinary, First Eternal, President for Life of the Saldanian Corporate Hegemony, Beloved & Benevolent, Everlasting Pitorian Tolo’Sal’Lat’Ut’Kel’Tras Anroc awaits you in one of the upper chambers. Dar/Sirok/Jehe: Responses Borac: I’m sorry… I’ve not been authorized to discuss anything. Per my assignment I am to take you directly to the upper chamber. The Marine frowned and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He didn’t like being herded somewhere without any information. Regardless they had little choice, and if the Zet had intended them any harm they could have done it as soon as they beamed in. This was likely some posturing charade rather than anything malicious. Greaves: Very well then Mister Borac. Please, lead the way (motioning with his hand). Without another word the Zet, head bowed low and eyes focused just in front of him, led the team into the building. The lobby was brightly lit in a faint green-ish white light with several Zet standing upright behind a massive semi-circular desk that Wes sized up to be a reception-like area. Not stopping, their guide led them past the reception area to a waiting lift at the back of the room. Several golden faces were mounted on the walls near the lifts and Wes could swear the eyes followed them as they entered. The lift itself was made entirely of some transparent glass or metal and allowed the occupants to look out the rear of the massive building. From this angle Wes could see that the building was shaped like a ‘U’, with the lift overlooking the inside curve and out the top of the ‘U’. Without delay, the doors closed and the lift rapidly ascended as soon as the team was fully inside. The higher they went, the better Wes could see, and it quickly became apparent that the building overlooked a massive lake or ocean. Bird like creatures circled at the water’s edge. Greaves: Quite the view we’ve got here. Dar/Sirok/Jehe: Responses Borac: Again, I’m sorry. I’m not authorized to speak any more than what I’ve already said. Almost as if on cue the lift slowed to a stop and the doors parted again. They were high up. Very high up. Several kilometers if Wes had to guess. Borac didn’t wait for them to admire the view however and quickly set off down a long hallway and Wes was forced to step quickly to keep up with the man’s long gait. They didn’t go far however before the team stopped short of wide double doors. Borac: Here we are. Please, take a seat inside. Owner and Guildmaster Extraordinary, First Eternal, President for Life of the Saldanian Corporate Hegemony, Beloved & Benevolent, Everlasting Pitorian Tolo’Sal’Lat’Ut’Kel’Tras Anroc will be with you shortly. Wes offered the man a smile and a nod, but before he could thank the Zet, the man had turned and started off down the hall. Greaves: Well, I guess we wait. Any idea how high up we are right now? Dar/Sirok/Jehe: Responses The room they had been led to was a large empty conference room dominated by a table made of that eerily glowing rock. The back wall however was floor to ceiling windows which overlooked the ocean. Greaves: (Low whistle) These people sure can appreciate a spectacular view. Look at that. Have you ever seen water that color before? Dar/Sirok/Jehe: Responses The doors at the back of the room parted as the Zet made his entrance and Wes turned to face the man whom he’d hoped would finally be the reason they had been sent to the planet. Anroc: Response TAG/TBC ========================= Captain (SFMC) Wes Greaves Marine Detachment Commander USS Thor - NCC 82607 E239702WG0 =========================

Welcome to the fleet! I Hope you have an awesome time here

I wasn't prepared for Zet's hell @Sirok 🤣

woho welcome to the fleet!

@Geoffrey Teller speaks in Corporate JUST TOO WELL and I don't like it (well, I LOVE it, and it has killed me, 100% ROI here) _____________________________________________________________________________ (( Basic operating chamber for impulse and energy / Reactor chamber - Endless Golden Penetrator)) Jehe: We really are here to help sir. Let the doctor take a look at you, and then we can go tend to any of your...colleagues. The Vulcan nodded briefly, her attention focused on the device she was holding in her hands. Alieth: ::monotonously:: I am here to serve Shaggee didn't know what to make of these bizarre, tiny creatures. Their faces were remarkably featureless, with only two eyes and a dull uniformly colored dermis. The idea of trusting that some random creatures from beyond The Edge were here out of the kindness of their flonds was simply beyond Shaggee's ability. The powerful were powerful because they exploited anyone who wasn't. It was how the deathless had made their fortunes and built the great megacorps. It was how they had purchased control of the civil administration hundreds of years ago, freeing them to do whatever they wanted in the pursuit of greater riches. It was how they ruled the system to this day, and it was the only type of leadership Shaggee had ever known. Rod'gurs: Just please...don't damage my eyes. If I lose more than two I won't be able to keep my job. The alien cast an odd look at him before holding up a machine that made a gentle noise. Shaggee braced for the inevitable blast of pain or searing agony of cut flesh, but none came and after a moment, it was clear none was coming. Shaggee quite simply didn't understand. Alieth: (Gently) If you allow me, I will administer you half a dose of Cortropine is a minor stimulant that will make you feel better. Rod'gurs: But I...I don't have a credit account with you...you couldn't possibly give medicine away without at least a purchase order? A consultation charge? Shipping and handling? ::Shaggee looked from one alien to the other, their expressions confused.:: You couldn't possibly mean it's...it's...::Shaggee had trouble wrapping his flaps around the word::...free. Alieth: Indeed, for free. All six of Shaggee's eyes widened in shock. He had been seen by medical personnel nine times in his forty one cycles, and he had the invoices and debt from each visit in his personal ledger, notated down to the milicredit owed. The idea of receiving services and not paying for them seemed...almost sickeningly alien to him. It felt unnatural and alarming and strangely...good. Rod'gurs: Well..if..I guess...I promise to subscribe to your infostream! You can send me all the marketing material you want! My consumer analytics are yours, even my...very personal analytics! Everything! The small alien withdrew another small tool from her strangely shaped kit, loaded a vial of bright colored liquid then pressed the contraption against his dulcornomoious artery. Braced again for pain, Shaggee almost passed out in relief as the magical medicine surged through his system. He felt like he could work a septuple shift and still have energy to shop at the central bazaar. It was an incredible feeling...and he hadn't spent a credit. If Shaggee could've willed it, he would've died in that moment - as content as he had ever been. Jehe: How long have you been adrift here, if you do not mind my asking? Shaggee tried to get the number straight, but he wasn't entirely sure. He suspected only the deathless had known when the ship was truly lost, and Anroc hadn't bothered to share that information until the ships demise seemed immediately apparent. Rod'gurs: Weeks...months, maybe. Systems started failing almost as soon as we got close to the Edge, but the deathless...uh ::Shaggee looked uncomfortably towards the ceiling and the malevolent face starting down at him::...Shipmaster Pitorian Anroc, glory to him and all the First Eternals...he just told us to keep going. Then people started dying. So many. Alieth: (Blinking again). Interesting. ::Standing up:: Now, can you guide us to your colleagues that require assistance? Shaggee found his energy to be nearly boundless and sprang up, almost bouncing off the floor. Rod'gurs: Yes of course, there were several associate directors and vice presidents assigned to this section, but I'm the vice associate director, so they all report to me. ::Shaggee puffed up in momentary pride before remembering their situation:: well, the ones who are still alive report to me. The dead ones just go into the reclaimer. Are you...are you really going to help us? All of us? Jehe: Well, hopefully we can. We're Starfleet. Stuff like this is what we do best. Alieth: We will do everything in our capacity and about a 33% more The strange name stuck in Shaggee's tympanic canal and he tried to reproduce the alien sound. Rod'gurs: Sar'feet. That is a strange name for a corporation. What's your primary commodity? Voidships? Advanced pharma goods? Good ROI on those. Jehe: Response As they transited through the cavernous bay past busts and frescos of Anroc, Shaggee felt his steps lightening and for a moment thought the alien drug had given him even more extraordinary strength. It wasn't until he realized all of them were hopping from step to step, arcing instead of stepping, that he realized the spingrav system was failing again. Alieth: I suppose that is not a usual feature of this ship. Rod'gurs: No. It's a sign the ship is dying. The deathless....::Shaggee closed his eyes, not looking at any of Anroc's representations as he cursed the mans existence::...the deathless wouldn't stand for the discomfort of nullgrav. It's one of the most reliable systems on the ship. If it's failing, everything else will soon. Jehe: Response They finally made their way to the Employee Productivity Recovery Center where several dozen of the administration team was sprawled against walls or on some of the limited medbeds. The few with good credit had to share the compartments single autodoc, and the mechanism itself was running low on pharma-consumables. Shaggee didn't have enough credit to unlock another canister from the nearby store and no one on the financial services team was available to arrange a short term, high interest loan. Shaggee pointed towards the injured and wagged his flaps, satisfied there was nothing more he could've done. The aliens seemed unconvinced. Alieth: We will have to hurry. Ensign, I assume you are familiar with emergency triage. ::picking up a green card:: If i put one of this, send them to the bridge or contact the captain or commander to determine the nearest transport point. :: Holding up a red card :: You must put a transporter tag on them, they will be the first to be beamed directly to the sickbay. ::Raising an orange:: If you see someone with one of these, you have to decide if they walk or not, it will depend on whether they join the group of the green or the red ones and you should act in accordance. Jehe: Response Shaggee tried to help as best he could. Rod'gurs: Uh, you understand that none of these people can pay, right? I think some of the accounting team is in the next compartment over, maybe if one of them is still alive they could generate a purchase order for you? Whatever would be easiest for your back office team. The aliens seemed to be talking among themselves, organizing small colored shards. One seemed to be of particular import, and Shaggee immediately understood their meaning. Alieth: If you see one of these only... move them away from the transit areas. Rod'gurs: Oh, credit rating labels. That's a very clever idea - you can assign them all to income brackets now and it'll make billing so much easier later. You aliens really are advanced! Jehe: Response Alieth: ::nodding:: Let's go Rod'gurs: I think I'll stay here, my quarterly fifteen minute break is coming up and I really feel like I've earned it. If you need me please leave a message with one of the admin staff...I know some of them survived. Jehe/Alieth: Response Rod'gurs: Oh are you sure? Well, I suppose I can defer it until next month. If you think it's that important. Jehe/Alieth: Response Rod'gurs: Help you treat the injured? I'm not certified for that. It would be a violation of my contract! Jehe/Alieth: Response Tags/TBC ============== Shaggee Rod'gurs Vice Associate Director Of Crew Fulfillment & Disposal Endless Golden Penetrator V239509GT0

I love new year resolutions! And i must say you've pinpoint here most of what i've in mind: improve as a writer is always a MUST for me, and it's super high on my list, yet there are some IC storylines i want to explore plus a career improvement for my mischief hobgoblin. Also... MOAR images, now that we have most of our emblems updated i need image-stuff to put my greedy hands into What are yours @Genkos Adea?

It's always a pleasure to see a writer put himself in the skin (or chitin) of a new species, but @Wes Greaves does it magnificently here, giving us a great perspective about the Zets. The trick with the font (which unfortunately doesn't display correctly in half the browsers, so I don't know how it will translate here) is just top notch. Excellent work! __________________________________ Acting Shipmaster Nokzu – The UMF Comes to the Rescue? ((Management & Oversight Center - Endless Golden Penetrator)) The last several hexaclicks had been some of the worst of her life. Nenni rubbed the horny protrusions on the back of her head to try and relieve some of the pressure in her head. They had failed to secure the hull breach and had lost too much fuel. Instead, being able to land on the planetoid they had intended on, instead they were now hurtling toward it with no means to slow down. Many of the centrifugal compartments had been compromised and slowed to a grinding halt and they had taken more hull breaches. A third of the ship had already vented into space. Moreso, they had detected something out past the edge. At first, they couldn’t be entirely sure it wasn’t a comet, but as time had ticked by it became increasingly apparent that their sensors had detected a vessel of some kind, and it was coming right for them. That was nearly five hexaclicks ago. Now the room was dimly lit and nearly abandoned. Nenni had sent the ship’s crew into hiding in the compartments that still had air in them. Either another company had been able to make it past the edge in secret, or there was about to be aliens approaching them. Neither option was a particularly safe one. Especially since they’d received no communications from the approaching vessel. With mere clicks left until intercept, Nenni and Saulan were the only crew in the management center. Silently they waited together wondering what might happen next when suddenly a bright shimmering light filled the front of the massive room. Vaguely Zetenoid shapes began materializing inside the shimmering light. Raising to their full height off their back spurs, the two sprinted to a table and flipped it on its side to take cover. Whispering softly, Nenni turned to Saulan. Nokzu: Have you ever heard of technology like that? Saulan: ? Nokzu: Dear Klin’thu, these might be real aliens… (pause) Be ready for anything my friend. Saulan: ? Nenni unholstered a small handheld device with a tiny protruding metal barrel and kept it pointed toward the ground. Peaking from the corner of the table, she watched as the creatures began making noises to one another. Teller: I heard stories of Orion Slavemasters who us̶̯̅̈́ed to display material wealth like this as a form of...bragg̵̱̀̓ing. Showing off to the others. I think whoever designed this place ̶̠̬́had them all beat. You two getting any readings? Alieth/Jehe: Response Teller: Damn, if spin-ĝ̵̛͈ravity is failing it's going to make our job that much harder. Ensign Jehe, start setting up those pattern enhancers. There seems to be plenty of space. Doctor, let’s see if we can find ạ̷̼̅n interface for the ships computer. If there is one. Alieth/Jehe: Response Nenni turned back to her friend, her eyes wide after watching the short pink and harry things on her ship. As she moved, the object in her hand collided ever so gently against the table and a soft metal clank resounded throughout the compartment. Geoff's head snapped around, a flash of movement on the very edge of his peripheral vision. On the other side of the room, crouched down behind an overturned table, something had tried to sneak a glimpse at them. Teller: Greetings. We're responding to your distress call. Can you understand me? The noises the creature made began twisting through the air and in Nenni’s mind until finally they resolved into something coherent. In common. oO How… Oo She traded looks with Saulan and stoof from behind the table. Compared to the deathless Nenni was short, but being face to face with these hairy creatures she felt like a towering presence. oO Is this how the deathless see us? Oo Nokzu: I… I understand you. How… is this possible? Who are you? Saulan: Response Teller: My name is Commander Geoffrey Teller, from the Federation Starship Thor. We're here to help you. ::Geoff tried to be diplomatic:: Nice..uh...nice ship you've got here. Nenni blinked her six eyes simultaneously. Federation? The United Mercantile Federation? That made no sense. Sure, they were working on a competitor ship to the Golden Penetrator, but the company’s best information said that the Penetrator was years ahead of them on development. Besides, how could they have this technology and no one know about it? And this crew, the creatures that spoke in strange noises, but somehow, she could understand. It all made no sense. Saulan: ? Nokzu: And I am Acting Shipmaster Nenni Nokzu. The UMF sent you to our aid? I’m sorry, I don’t exactly understand. Teller/Alieth/Jehe: ? Saulan: ? Nenni tried to take in it all. The noises the creatures made seemed to echo slightly from their language into common, and some of their words were hard to follow. Nokzu: You said you’re here to help. Saulan can describe the damage we have, but our biggest issue right now is fuel. Does your ship have any to spare? Teller/Alieth/Jehe/Saulan: ? Tags! and TBC! ========================= Nenni Nokzu Acting Shipmaster Endless Golden Penetrator E239702WG0 =========================

Amanda (the writer behind Alora) has let me read this marvel today and, of course, I think it should be here. I think the positiveness, how well she knows the characters, the rhyme, everything, makes her a great and super considerate sim with her fellow writers. @Alora DeVeau you do better this site being here Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau - "Merry Christmas" (FAO: ALL) OOC: Since the mission started way before Christmas, I thought it would be nice to assume they celebrate Christmas afterward ICly. I was going to hold off on this for a few more days, but you know what? I think tonight is a great night to spread some cheer. Thank you for being here, my Ops family. Y'all are a gift, and I'm grateful to have each and every one of you. I'm grateful to be a part of this awesome online community. You are dearly loved. ❤️ IC: ((Starbase 118 Ops - All Over The Place)) Twas two nights before Christmas and throughout 118 Not a creature was stirring, it was quite late. The children were tucked in their beds for the night, The late shift was waiting for dawn’s early light. Yet among the shadows a form slipped unseen Dark hair tumbling down and eyes of bright green. A mischievous smile played upon her fair face As she swept through the halls of the sleeping Starbase. She came to the first set of doors in the hallway And left a wrapped package then laughed and sped away. From quarters, to quarters, to quarters she flew Leaving more packages shiny and new. Each one was unique and quietly brought, Each one wrapped with care, each one filled with thoughts Of sweetness and light, of the happy yule season, The desire to bring joy twas her only reason. Whiskey was given to the Vulcan marine, Made and aged on earth, its tone rich and clean. For the first officer with girlfriend so loving, Two tickets to listen to some klingons singing. For Ishani Kasun, twas something she wished, Candied chilis were now marked off of her list. And for the unborn child, sure to be sweet, A warm purple quilt within a package wrapped neat For Prudence the figure of a unicorn, Silky white body and silvery horn, A woman she hoped would be a good friend, Reminded her nothing ever would end. For Talas, she left at the door of his lair, A scroll for his wall, a Bajoran prayer. For Nalni two brightly coloured bouquets, Of some silken flora to brighten her days. Handmade cherry blossom comb and barrette Was left for the kind Sheila Bailey to get. For Taelon a real book filled with the glories Of Isaac Asimov's amazing stories. A blue yukata with blossoms of cherries Was left for his daughter, the lovely Cyri. A custom katana was made for the one, The counselor by the name of Ruwon. For Ditala, amber jewelry that shone Was given to her now, her very own. Canvas and paints were left very neatly For the Ariana who smiled so sweetly. A real record player Maxwell received A rather neat gift that she had achieved. A model of the USS Narendra she gave Williams in honour of new friendship to pave Drevas received Tolkien, carefully bound With stories of hobbits roaming around. And Andrews found in his box full of cheer Two bottles of wine from a very good year. Solaris, Casino Royale was gifted Signed by the author. As the lady drifted She moved place to place, and then door to door Alora had only a few presents more. Yet those could not be left by the front door, For those required a little bit more. Later in person, she knew she’d give out The presents for those she couldn’t leave out. For Tony and Ashley, friends loved so much, For Wyn and for Sal, well theirs was just such To be given in person, not in a box For now, Alora slunk away like a fox And into the night, she softly did call. Merry Christmas, my friends, to one and all. -- Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau Chief Science Officer Starbase 118 Ops al...@blar.net M239008AD0

the "adjustment system for vital enjoyment" is my new fav part of a starship EVER

I have always said that one of the great advantages of our format (and one of the things I really like to read and aspire to be able to portray one day with my writing) is consequences. Although we write in an episodic way, more or less, what we write affects our characters, polishes them or breaks them and changes their way of seeing the world and relating to others. To witness these two wonderful writers here, dealing with the consequences of the previous mission as the starting gun for a new one is delightful, and I could have read six more parts of it. @Alex Brodieand @Tony, aka Kells being great here as usual. Kudos, guys JP: Flt. Capt. Kells & Lt. Cmdr. Brodie - “Shouldering A Burden” ((Captain’s Ready Room, Deck 1, USS Thor)) Alex had one more stop on his rounds and it was the highest office in the land - or at least the highest office on the ship. He pressed the chime on the outside of the door and waited to be admitted. Kells: Come in, Counselor. Brodie had only seen Kells twice since he’d been injured on New Bajor. The first was immediately in the wake of his injuries while he was still convalescing in his biobed and the second was when he had breezed into, and then out of, his office to hand him some more items for his ‘fruit salad’. The man was due a follow-up as his injuries, even to Alex’s medically untrained eye, had looked quite severe and it was the damage and injuries you couldn’t see that concerned him. He stepped through the door and found Kells sitting at his desk fighting the greatest enemy of Starfleet and the Federation - admin. Brodie: Captain, thank you for seeing me. Aron offered a wan smile. He’d just finished with a round of comm calls, in which he’d assigned teams and tasks ahead of the Thor’s arrival at the ship (if it was a ship) that was apparently in distress (if indeed it was). They had several hours or travel time, so Aron had left himself only half an hour for this appointment. It was meant to be longer than that, but even half an hour felt like a luxury at the moment, even with the travel time. Going to counseling at all felt a little like a luxury, though Aron tried to dismiss this thought. It was a persistent and untrue belief among captains that counseling wasn’t necessary, but Aron had always tried to instill the opposite in himself and in his officers. Now, more than ever, he tried to cling to that. Kells: Thank you, Alex. I’m afraid it needs to be short today, in the light of this distress call. Alex nodded with a frown and gestured back towards the door he had just come through and bridge that lay beyond. Brodie: Aye, I heard something on those lines as I was walking through - all sounds very mysterious. Alex couldn’t help but think back to the Fortuna. That had been a very mysterious distress call too...back when he had first joined the fleet. He hoped this would play out slightly better for Salo, Jehe, Udro and other new arrivals to the Thor. Kells: And speaking of, I’d like you to grab Doctor Quen and Ensign Dar sometime in the next few hours. I don’t know whether we’ll be dealing with refugees or annoyed pirates or broken robots or what, but between the three of you, I think you can handle anything that might need our assistance. This was a broad order and Aron knew it. At the moment, though, he didn’t think he had anything more to give. He hoped that the science officers on the bridge and his own strat ops team would be able to provide both the counselor’s team and Geoff’s away team with more information as the Thor approached the signal’s point of origin. Brodie: ::smiling:: So...prepare for everything then? :::Taking a seat:: Although, if it is any of the above three then I’m well practiced. Anyway, we’ve some time before we’re there and I’m sure Geoff can handle anything that might come up in the meantime...so...push ::gesturing to the pile of PADDS:: all that to one side for a moment and take a moment to breathe. Kells: I know, I know, no work. (beat) Okay. That’s the last I’ll think about it. That was a lie and they both knew it, but Aron screwed his eyes shut for a moment, hoping that it would be enough to signal to his thoughts that he wanted a brief respite. Brodie: So, somewhat later than I’d have liked but our respective schedules have kept clashing, but - how are you? ::Eying the PADDS again:: Other than slightly over worked? The question, much like Kells’ order, was broad. It was one of the hardest questions to answer but it left nothing off the table and it wasn’t as much what was said but how it was said. The body language, the facial expressions as they thought on an answer could give away a great many things. Kells: (quickly) I’ve been fine. (beat, more normal) You know, the Gratitude Festival helped. It was better to have some downtime. But even as he said so, Aron’s expression caught for a moment. The Festival had also meant that he had been back down on New Bajor, and although he’d been nowhere near the place where he’d been shot, just beaming down had been enough of a struggle. The change in expression did not go unnoticed - action units one, four and fifteen...with a few other things thrown in. Brodie: I’m told it was quite a ceremony...and I’m glad you’ve been able to get a little respite, you have been through a lot. ::He pointed to the man's arm:: How is the shoulder by the way? Kells: It’s healing as expected. Our medical staff work wonders. Brodie: ::Nodding:: They certainly do...probably a little lingering stiffness for a while. It’s amazing how much you move your shoulder though the working day. Brodie knew from his own experience how painful and linering something as, relatively, simple as a stab wound was. He was fairly sure that massive explosive damage would take a little longer. Kells: I’ve been learning just how much. I had no idea, really. Brodie: Any other effects? ::Pause:: Obviously everyone reacts to a traumatic event differently - psychologically speaking. Sometimes it’s very obvious - flashbacks, nightmares for example. Aron started to answer, to say that he hadn’t had any after-effects. But Brodie had given him extreme examples. Aron hadn’t experienced nightmares after this, and he certainly had before. But that wasn’t exactly what Brodie was asking, and he knew it. Kells: I haven’t had those (beat) particular symptoms. Brodie: Other times it can be more subtle...numbing or avoidance tactics…::Glancing at the PADDs again:: Distracting oneself with work to try and restore normality...for example. Kells: (with a brief smile) Definitely that. Brodie: ::Smiling slightly himself:: I’m only-half joking...do you feel you’ve been coping well? Kells: Generally, some difficulty concentrating. Trouble sleeping, sometimes. And I’ve felt either like I have too much or too little energy. Alex nodded, hyperarousal was another tell-tale sign. Brodie: Now, I think we both know that’s not quite right. Again Aron smiled briefly. Kells: Don’t worry. I’m not going to say I’m fine and dismiss you. But this isn’t my first time in a situation like this, or in dealing with post-traumatic stress. This was, Aron thought for a moment, its own problem. How upsetting was it that he thought of this sort of fallout as normal for an officer with a long service record? But that was a systemic problem, and one that he couldn’t solve with Brodie in the next twenty minutes. Kells: I want to continue to work with you, Alex, but you have to trust me, too. I can’t manage without help, but I can manage with help, and that’s where I need you. Kells: I can still function as this crew’s CO, with the support I need. Alex leaned forwards in his chair. Brodie: Aron, ::He deliberately used the man's first name:: if I thought for a single moment that you were not capable of commanding this vessel through a psychological impairment we wouldn’t be having this conversation alone. We would be having it in my office, with Alieth and Geoff present, and I would do my duty and be relieving you of command. Alex had read the man's file, as much as was available to him without seeking additional clearance, and he was aware that he had been through a great deal throughout his career - particularly his time aboard the Drake and the Mercury. He could tell they must have been bad...if he’d have made a word cloud the latest would be ‘Redacted’. He’d ask him about it one day...but now wasn’ the time to open up old wounds while the new ones were still healing. Kells: (quietly) I know. Brodie: Like I say - we’re not there. I guess what I’m saying is I do trust you...and you need to trust me. We’ve both got your well-being, and that of the crew, at the top of our agenda. I’ll just say - don’t suffer in silence, it isn’t worth it. Kells: I can promise that I won’t. Which sounded as though he wouldn’t, but that isn’t what Aron had meant. He appreciated Brodie’s presence, and the fact that he had a staff of counselors at all spoke to the fact that Starfleet valued the mental health of all their officers. Brodie was on the bridge, too, with the rest of the bridge crew and (not incidentally) most of the senior staff, and Aron knew that the placement wasn’t simply coincidental. Brodie: The door is always open - nothing is too trivial and no hour is too late or too early. Like you say, you need support - and I’m here to provide it. Kells: I’ll take you up on that. (beat, then seriously) I know that you wouldn’t hesitate to act in the best interest of the crew. I hope that I wouldn’t, either, if I was compromised. But having your assessment is still -- reassuring. Brodie: ::Alex widened his arms:: Reassurance is just one of the many services we offer down on Deck Ten. Aron took a deep breath, which he let out in a short sigh. Kells: As soon as we’ve completed this current mission, I’ll want to meet again, and more frequently. Brodie: And I’d be happy to oblige, or if not me then one of my colleagues. He was thinking of Salo although given he was the chief counsellor and any ultimate decision to make changes to a flag officers duty would be scrutinised heavily he would be aiming to manage this one personally. Kells: Of course. And feel free to shuffle me around to your colleagues. I know you have plenty of other patients. Aron frowned slightly. Was that the right word? Was he a patient at that moment, and would he no longer be when he and Brodie left the ready room? He wasn’t sure, but he also wasn’t sure what else he might call himself in the moment -- a client, a customer? No, everything else sounded wrong. Alex had worked in medical care, where they tended to be patients. Research, where they were called participants. Private practice, where they tended to be clients. Alongside FedSec, where they tended to be called convicts….and once at a dabo tournament, where they were called competitors. Personally he always prefered client. They were availing themselves of his services and he was there to service their needs...a humble servant. Did that make them masters? Counsellee...was that even a word? He snapped back from whatever thought he was having...Kells appeared to be the same. Brodie: Well ::Standing up:: I suppose I should track down Deena and Elandra and assemble the continency committee. Rest assured, Captain, we’ll be ready for whatever awaits us. Kells: (slight smile) I know that, too. Brodie: As I said, the door is always open. Kells: I’ll take advantage of it, believe me. Aron stood as well, and offered his hand. He had been a patient -- or client -- a few moments ago, but with the appointment finished, he needed to become the ship’s CO. He slipped back into the role as if he was donning a comfortable old shirt. Kells: Keep me apprised of your progress, Commander. If I’m unavailable, Commander Garcia has the conn. Brodie: Aye Sir, I’ll let you know as soon as preparations are complete. Although, as he left, he did wonder exactly what they were preparing for. END Simmed By Fleet Captain Aron Kells Commanding Officer USS Thor V238208LV0 & Lt. Cmdr. Alexander Brodie Chief Counselor USS Thor NCC-82607 Writer ID.: A239005BM0 ------------------------------------

welcome to the fleet! (or welcome back!) i hope you have a BLAST around here

I must be a heathen here and vote for the JJ ones due they are actually a nice redesign of the old ones... and kinda looks comfy to throw yourself into an alien planet into them XD

welcome to the fleet

I'm literally in love with this scene and SUPER honoured that @Geoffrey Teller has decided to put on display here all his awesome writing skills and the fine officer i know that lurks under the silly ;). Both are INCREDIBLE btw so, thanks!

A crazy little idea made me start a light JP with @Ikaia Wong that has unleashed in this sample of talent and hilarity, and I can't help but appreciate the amount of skill and comedy that ravages every single line of it. I hope your CO won't catch you or, if does, at least have a good laugh at the expense of this before grounds you FOREVER XD.

i just came here to drop this here too due @Wes Greavesmade a hell of a job here, as usual. Now if we lost our skill to turn the ship, i know we have the marines as back up force Awesome as usual, man!

Congrats and welcome to the fleet! Hope you have a BLAST in your new ships (or starbase!)

woho! welcome to the fleet

And finally the last part of this little arch. It was wonderful to be able to read it and see the change unfolding little by little in front of all of us. I just want to mention that there may not be any tattoo parlors, but of course DS224 has tattoo artist Good job guys! @Addison MacKenzie @Genkos Adea @Geoffrey Teller