Alieth

STOP. Just stop. You've managed to found a GREAT example of a sim. One that have made me smile and chuckle all the way. One that mix the joy and silly parts you sometimes see in a Star Trek show and, at the same time, keeps being AWESOME. And Mister @Wes Greaveshas managed to do this he alone so... _____________________________________________ ((Ferenginar, Outskirts of Upper Bowog Bay, . Late evening )) A street race. If someone had asked Wes what was the very last thing he expected a Vulcan Doctor to suggest, a street race on Ferenginar would have topped the list of “there’s no way”. Then to find that not only their physician but their chief engineer had thrown down the gauntlet together, well it all made Wes drastically reconsider his assessment on Vulcan spontaneity. Particularly the spontaneity of drunk Vulcans. What had started as Alieth’s offhand comment about the crew’s new-to-them grav bikes had quickly spiraled into an opportunity to mercilessly hound the intoxicated woman until she committed to her half-baked idea. Now in the pouring rain, he began to regret his campaign to ensure the race actually occurred. The droplets fell like fat, wet, rocks, seeming to ping off the Marine’s sleek black and red racing gear. The Ferengi he bought the suit from assured him that not only would it match the red racing bike, but it would also decrease drag, protect him from debris, and keep him mostly dry. Now that he was wearing it, Wes was pretty sure it was just a scheme to get the salesman some extra latinum and drum up a good excuse for others to place bets on the Marine. He did look fast after all. From his perch on to the side of the starting line Wes examined his position. As soon as it became apparent that the pair of Vulcan officers intended to modify their bike, Wes had raced down to the Marine Deck and enlisted the help of the detachment’s combat engineers. While only half had been around at the time, getting the group to help was simple. The man simply had to explain that the officers of Medical and Engineering thought they could dare challenge the Marines. Wes practically had to beat back the number of volunteers with a stick. Now, kneeling over open panels in the SAG in the soaking rain with eager smiles, two of his combat engineers argued over a modification they were working on. Cooland: Are you crazy! It’s already front heavy as it is. If we throw another power cell in the front the Lieutenant’s gonna be riding a supped-up plow! Porter: No way man, we’ll just reroute some of the extra power to front grav thrusters to compensate. Plus, there’s no way the inducer coil is going to run for longer than a few seconds without it. Cooland: Even if we could compensate, he’ll be riding on a freakin powder keg. Are you going to explain to the skipper how we cooked the Platoon Commander when it goes up in flames? A shiver ran down Wes’s spine and he chose to walk away from the conversation before he learned so much that he refused to ever get within 20 feet of the bike again. He instead paced over towards where Alieth and Sirok were finishing their own modifications. Doing his best to look inconspicuous in his very conspicuous outfit, the man eavesdropped on his opponents. Alieth: How the modifications progress? Sirok: For this race, finished. :: He kept to himself his opinion on what should be done with those particular SAGs.:: Alieth: I see (wiping the rain off her face) what advantage will that give us? Sirok: I have tried to stay within the basic characteristics of the vehicle, but I have improved the drive system to give a higher cornering speed, as well as more top speed time. I have placed several sensors inside to control all technical aspects, I will be able to guide you if you need to make any adjustments during the run. :: Besides being able to obtain performance data for the future design of a SAG under Starfleet standards.:: Wes frowned given the new information, and upon a sideways glance from Sirok, he turned away as if engaged in enthusiastic conversation with a Ferengi. Fortunately further off in the crowd, a rabble-rouser hurled some words of encouragement. Ferengi 1: Hey! Vulcans! I have bet two bars of latinum that you will crash the human into a tree, don't even think about failing, or you will have to deal with my lawyer! Images of Wes colliding with a tree followed immediately by a plume of orange and yellow flame ran through his mind. Maybe his bike would explode if he hit a tree? Wes hoped against hope that his two Marines figured out their power supply issue before the race started. He tried to push the thought from his mind as he strolled back over toward the Red Rocket. Porter has just sealed the last panel as Wes walked up again, with the third Marine nowhere in sight. Greaves: Where’d Cooland go? Porter: Ah, he got his feelings hurt and went off to pout. ::Toothy grin:: Don’t worry sir. I got you. You’re all set. Let’s do this! Before Wes could ask whether he needed to change into something more flame retardant, one of his opponents cut him off. Alieth: Ready to start, Mr. Greaves? Or have you decided to give up? Sirok raised an eyebrow, it seemed that the doctor was using Sobok's advice not to support a comrade but to undermine the morale of a rival. In any case, he did not care about the result of the race, but about the performance of the vehicle and the data he could get from it and from others. Greaves : Whoa, Doc. When did you learn how to talk smack? I know you didn’t have time to learn this morning with the migraine you must have woken up with! We’re ready to rock over here! Alieth: Response Wes anxiously glanced over at Porter who gave him two thumbs up and a wink. Sirok: Do you need me to check your vehicle? Greaves: And let the competition see what we’ve got hiding up our sleeve? Unless you’re going to let us check your work, there’s no way! Keep your nose in your own SAG. Sirok: Response Alieth: Response? A small drone whizzed by close overhead and the crowd swelled in volume. It seemed that the call for initial bets had closed and a hurried Ferengi rushed over to the starting line. Race Organizer: It’s time to start! The patrons are getting impatient and all of the bets are in. You’ve got two minutes before we start. ::jabbing a finger toward Alieth:: If you’re not ready to go in time we’ll seek recompense as stated in the contract! Sirok/Alieth: Response Another drone soared by and Wes realized the small flying machines weren't courier drones but were cameras. Greaves: Wait a sec Alieth. ::exasperated:: It this being televised?! Sirok/Alieth: Response Wes jogged back toward his SAG shaking his head. A competitive pair of Vulcans. Now he’d seen everything. Wes snapped his racing helmet into place and a small HUD activated in his visor. The Marine smiled at the handiwork of the modifications the crew had made in such a short time. Porter helped Wes onto the bike and got the thrusters started. With a low hum, the SAG hopped gingerly off the ground, albeit with a slight forward tilt. It took no time at all to finesse the bike to the starting line where Alieth waited atop her own. A gleeful smile played across his face as Wes revved the engine and winked at Alieth. The crowd swelled again as an announcer counted off toward the start of the race. From behind the pair of racers, Corporal Cooland ran down a small hill toward the starting line waving his arms and shouting something indistinct. Unfortunately for Wes, he didn’t hear, nor see the Marine behind him. With the wave of a flag, a cheer from the crowd, and a roar of engines, the contenders shot off onto the course. ========================= 1st Lieutenant Wes Greaves Marine Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 E239702WG0 =========================

welcome on board!

welcome back!

she found the tiniest bottle i bet

I just have this feeling that if a Galaxy come to save the day, day WOULD be saved so...

Welcome to the Fleet Ensign!

@Wes Greaves and @Addison MacKenzie had create this HILAROUS piece of gold I've LOVED almost since the first line. The sass on it is over 9000 and it's a good GOOD example of WHY medical visit could be AWESOME. Just saying Mr. Greaves would maybe die later in an unknow circunstances that could involve, or not, a logically outraged vulcan ------------------------------------------------- ((Main Shuttle Bay, Deck 7, USS Thor) The Ra settled onto the metal deck plating of the shuttlebay, it’s hull still smoking slightly from the flight through the intense ion storm. Wes unbuckled his harness and attempted to stand. The flight had been jarring and the Marine felt like he had just finished an intense spin cycle on the world’s largest washing machine. Not one, but two storage compartments had burst open on the flight, the second of which spilling its contents directly into his lap and onto his injured leg. Apparently it had only seventeen twelve minutes from takeoff to landing, and apparently that had been long enough for his anger to reside, his medication to wear off, and one of his stitches to painfully tear. The result wasn’t pretty. His attempt at standing immediately failed, and a wave of dizziness ran through him making the interior of the shuttle spin. Fortunately one of the colonists caught the man and helped steady him. Wes could feel fresh blood seeping down his leg, and a spreading red splotch on his patched EV suit suggested the bleeding may actually be significant once again. Pandorn: ::standing up and moving to the colonists:: Everyone, watch your step getting out. Once out of the shuttle, get clear of the shuttle and wait for the medical staff. ::slight smile:: And welcome to the USS Thor. ::to Wes:: You as well Wes. Let Doctor Mackenzie look at you, no problem? Greaves: You won’t hear any more protest from me sir. On it. Wes nodded appreciation to the colonist through gritted teeth after his head cleared and hobbled his way down the ramp of the shuttle. (( Sickbay, Deck 10, USS Thor )) When MacKenzie received an updated report of the colonists, she was surprised to see the extent of some of their injuries. Nevertheless, she had the medical bay prepped and ready to receive patients. When Quen reported that the Ra had docked and that the priority patients were being shipped up to Sickbay, MacKenzie was ready to roll. Surprisingly (or, perhaps not), the first patient to make his way into Sickbay was Mr. Greaves. MacKenzie watched as he hobbled through the doors on his badly mangled leg. Unaccompanied. MacKenzie folded her arms. Wes limped into the huge room of biobeds. A wave of nausea was immediately quelled by the stern look of the Thor’s Chief Medical Officer. MacKenzie: Lieutenant, where is Doctor Alieth? Greaves: ::With a cruel smile:: Ma’am, our favorite vulcan physician is currently located somewhere underground several thousand kilometers below us. There was a pause, and MacKenzie could feel her jaw begin to tighten. MacKenzie: ...She’s where? Wes eyed the nearest bed, his leg aching painfully. How he longed to be rid of the suit and given a fresh injection of some chemical [...]tail to make his troubles fade away. Despite that longing, the vindictive sense of revenge took precedence. Greaves: Ensign Alieth snuck off the shuttle and is now planet side with the away team. Her jaw tightened further. MacKenzie: ::muttering:: Why, that green-blooded son-of-a- … Greaves: I wholeheartedly echo that sentiment ma’am. Wes took a cautious step towards the nearest bed, only to have his bad leg nearly give out underneath him. Muttering curses under his breath, he dropped the helmet to his EV suit which had been slung under his arm. The metal of the helmet clanged as it bounced along the deck to finally slide to a rest at the foot of the bed. Dried blood could clearly be seen coating the back of the helmet. A small, yet evidently still unamused smile crept on MacKenzie’s face as she approached the man to help him up onto a biobed. Once he was situated, she grabbed a tricorder from a nearby instrument cart and returned to his side. MacKenzie: So, what happened?? Greaves: Well ma’am, it’s sort of a long story. Which part do you want to hear first? The part about the underground dragon, the part about an ancient medical procedure, or the part where Miss Alieth snuck away to go on adventures? MacKenzie: ...dragon. MacKenzie scanned the wound in his leg and gently pressed on some of the tissue. Wes gritted his teeth and snapped his eyes shut at the pain. Greaves: We were working our way through a complex of tunnels when one of the natives caused a cave in. MacKenzie: …a dragon caused a cave-in. Is this a joke? Greaves: Uh, no. Sorry Doc. I tend to try and make jokes when I’m uncomfortable. It was a sentient creature native to the planet. Some kind of tunneling species. One of them burrowed underneath us and caused a cave in. I fell along with Lieutenant Commander Pandorn. I must have lost consciousness because the next thing I remember is waking up with a few hundred pounds of rock on my legs. Commander Pandorn pulled me out from under the rocks, but it tore my suit and cut my leg really bad. My suit got flooded with the local atmo and radiation. Been coughing, bleeding, and feeling dizzy ever since. MacKenzie: You don’t say. MacKenzie looked at him skeptically, then held up the tricorder for him to see. MacKenzie: You’ve got a lot of tissue damage, a concussion, mild radiation poisoning and you’ve lost a lot of blood. Greaves: ::cracking a wry smile through pain:: See, I knew this was just another Tuesday. MacKenzie was not amused. MacKenzie: Let’s start with the radiation poisoning… She loaded a hypospray of Hyronalyn and pressed it against his neck. MacKenzie: The leg is going to take a little bit of work - I’m going to irrigate and disinfect the wound first, then use a protoplaser to repair the tissue. We’ll have one of the nurses stitch you up when I’m done. … let me know if the pain is too much. I know you’ve already been given some sedatives, and I don’t want to overload you. The soft hiss of the hypospray was reassuring. oO Sure beats needles Oo Wes thought to himself as his nausea subsided greatly. The relief from some of the unpleasantness registered on his face. Greaves: Ah, that’s the good st…. The Marine didn’t finish the thought as an unexpected wave of pain burst in his leg. MacKenzie had flushed the wound and removed a few small bits of debris, then started the work of repairing the leg. Wes gritted his teeth and looked down as the Doctor went to work. He was pretty sure the pain meds simply had worn off, but his pride resisted saying anything. Besides the pain was only terrible when she was actively poking and prodding the wound, which was only half the time. The other half of the time the pain was just miserable. MacKenzie: So, tell me about what they did to fix you up… She knew the answer already - the rudimentary stitches spoke volumes, but wanted to keep him talking and distracted. Wes opened his mouth to offer a reply but closed it again in a grimace as the Doctor began some of the tissue regeneration. After a second or two he was able to get used to the new sense of grating on his nerve endings. Greaves: ::slightly strained:: Honestly, I’m not exactly sure. One of the doctors down on the surface gave me a few shots. You know, all old school like. Needles and all. Then he grabbed a needle and some wire and stitched the wound closed. Past that, no idea what he did. It worked alright. Cleared my head, took away the pain ::trailing off:: Wes shuddered again and shifted his weight from one side of the bed to the other. To hell with it. He was going to ask. Greaves: All right Ma’am. You win. Can I have something for the pain? That, or grab a hatchet and take the whole damn leg quick. Addison’s brow furrowed as she started to look around Sickbay for a lost piece of equipment. MacKenzie: I seem to have left my hatchet at home… ::shrugging:: Lucky for you, I guess. Pain getting to you? Wes chuckled softly. The joke and the resulting laughter helped, even if not much. Greaves: Sorry. It can be tough to maintain a composure when someone is actively digging around in my insides. MacKenzie offered a soft smile as she loaded a hypospray with a dose of Rexlin that was just strong enough to offer relief, but not enough to knock him out. MacKenzie: You should begin to feel some relief now... Wes frowned. The medication immediately dulled some of the pain, but didn’t take it away altogether. Greaves: Good enough doc. The day really was getting to him and eating away at his usual professionalism. Maybe he was closer to his breaking point than he had thought. Typically picking a fight with a starship’s CMO was a bad idea. Doing so while one had medical instruments in and around a large open wound was just asking for it. Wes quickly attempted to change the topic and pointed at the wound in his thigh. A wound dangerously close to some of his more sensitive organs. Greaves: ::Pointing near his crotch:: How’s it looking down there doc? Is it going to leave a scar? I hear chicks dig scars. The pregnant silence that followed the comment pressed deeply against Wes’s already frayed psyche. He silently promised to himself he would just shut up going forward. There was simply no need to talk. Ever. Again. She locked eyes with him for what she was sure was an uncomfortable amount of time, then cleared her throat in a very deliberate manner. MacKenzie: I don’t think there’s any cause for concern. ...everything...looks alright, and I think any scarring will be minimal. MacKenzie finished the tissue repair and stood back to examine her work. Satisfied, she motioned for one of the nurses to come over and close the wound. Addison made it a point to occasionally observe the work of the doctors and nurses under her charge, and to note their strengths and weaknesses. As the nurse worked on the sutures, she continued to press Greaves. MacKenzie: And about the part where Doctor Alieth snuck off the shuttle… Greaves: Well Ma’am, I didn’t exactly see her depart. We had a brief. . . ::pause:: conversation about my ability to remain on mission. I boarded the shuttle, and when we closed up the ramp and left, Ensign Alieth was no longer on the shuttle with us. MacKenzie: A mistake? Greaves: I know the Ensign. She’s not one to make mistakes. She knew what she was doing. MacKenzie: ::flatly:: I have no doubt. What did you two discuss? Greaves: Well ma’am, like I said, it was a conversation about my fitness to remain on duty. MacKenzie: No doubt she ordered you back to the ship and you protested... Wes frowned again. The medication had begun to work as advertised, but he now felt a new sense of discomfort under the stern gaze of the intimidating redhead. The woman knew what had transpired on the surface. Now he was sure of it. Greaves: I see. Ensign Alieth must have had enough time to forward on some of her . . . recommendations to you. I assume to ensure that I followed them? MacKenzie: Well, you’re here, aren’t you? You’re going to keep your leg, so it sounds like we both did our jobs today. Greaves: I can’t argue with results ma’am. I’ll try to take it easy for the next few days. ::Smiling warmly:: Maybe I’ll keep PT down to only a half marathon. Addison picked up a PADD and made some notes to the officer’s file, then shook the device at him. MacKenzie: I’ll make sure I send this over to Major Parker with my recommendations, that way if anything happens, you’ll have us both to deal with. In the meantime, try to get some rest and I’ll send someone by to check on you in a little bit. [End] --- Lieutenant Commander Addison MacKenzie, M.D., Ph.D., FASFS Chief Medical Officer USS Thor V239601AM0 & 2nd Lieutenant Wes Greaves Marine Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 E239702WG0

if we speak about soundtrack as a whole (not only theme song) discovery is quite solid tbh.

Even if my fav show is DS9, the Voyager theme with the visuals just made the game for me. Still the most GORGEOUS intro in my opinion. I've TNG one quite close to this too since it was my first trek show. In any case.... I'm... concerned about you and THAT sing along song *shivers* 😜

Alieth being a chirpy vulcan as usual

Congrats and welcome (again)

Far from the first thing on her mind, that is mostly save lifes but...

@Quen Deena has a special ability to write very subtle yet emotionally realistic characters. The impact of discovery and the insight of a community leader concerned about the ramifications of what she has just discovered is perfectly reflected in this SIM and it is clear that there is much more going on inside Flynn's mind than what she says or what is written. A character development worthy of reading, emotional and frankly well composed. Congratulations Quen! __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ((Transmitter Room, Vel Maijan Subterra)) A new voice broke through the interference. Brodie: =/\= Commander…it’s Brodie. You mentioned new friends…how is the situation at the colony? Are you able to confirm they sent the signal? =/\= Teller: =/\= In a manner of speaking, Counselor. Apparently the distress signal was originally sent by the leader of the original colony....approximately seventy years ago. That mans granddaughter & current head of the colony apparently got it restarted a few weeks ago when the seismic disturbances returned. =/\= Brodie: =/\= Do we know how many colonists we’re looking at? =/\= Ellen listened, a disinterested expression on her face despite her interest in who exactly this new person was. Teller: =/\= Wait one, we haven't had the chance to conduct a census and our tricorders are nearly useless down here. =/\= Teller nodded in her direction. Ellen knew the number off the top of her head - saw it every day, updated it with every birth, every death... Flynn: =/\= One hundred ninety-three. =/\= Kells: =/\= Almost two hundred? We can accommodate them easily. =/\= Flynn: oO Accomodate? What the hell? Oo Teller: =/\= We'll get that equipment setup as soon as we get it, sir. =/\= Kells: =/\= Good. On the double, Commander. I'll see you soon. Thor, out. =/\= The room hung with an eerie silence once the comm clicked off. Ellen watched Teller lean back from the console, taking his sweet time about it, too. Answers were needed, and answers she was going to get. He considered something for a moment, her eyes burning virtual holes in the back of his head, and then spoke. Teller: Ms. Flynn, is there a place we can speak privately? Flynn: My office - right down the corridor, second door on the left. Teller: Very well, I'll join you in a moment. She nodded tersely as the commander began assigning his team to various tasks. On her way out the room, she paused next to Armiger, lurking near the edge. Flynn: Keep an eye on them - I think they’ll need it. Armiger: Response _________ ((Flynn’s Office)) After Starfleet’s reaction to the colony, she was curious to see Teller’s reaction to her office. It was a tight space, sparsely furnished like the rest of the colony. The desk (partially supported by the wall) was clear except for a couple of partially-functioning computer pads, with just enough space in front of it for a visitors’ chair and a sliding door - which she’d currently left open. There was just enough room between the desk and the opposite wall to walk behind to her own seat. Against the back wall hung a few shelves of record books and a smooth, roughly rectangular piece of slate with the number ‘193’ written in chalk and circled. Ellen gestured to the door as Teller entered. He seated himself opposite her once he’d closed it. Teller: Thank you, Ms. Flynn. You helped us get back in touch with our ship, and I owe you an explanation but before I start - I have one very important question for you. It may sound absurd but, please, humor me. Flynn: ::dryly:: I’ll try. Teller: Ellen....what year is it? Ellen stared for a moment, blinking. Had he really just asked her that? Flynn: What year is it? 2234. Teller blinked. Teller: Ellen...this is going to be difficult to hear, but it's the truth. The current calendar year is 2397. I understand that, from your perspective, this colony has only experienced about seventy years of linear time since your grandfather sent that distress call. In actuality, that was nearly two hundred years ago. According to the history books, this colony - in fact, this entire world, vanished without a trace in 2164. Twenty-three ninety-seven. The pieces were falling into place now. No wonder they’d arrived with more tech than a small starship…. And all their talk about ‘temporal’ this and ‘chronitons’ that. She could have kicked herself - she should have guessed it earlier! Temporal/time… Chronitions/chron/time… It was right there, staring her in the face, and she never in her wildest dreams would have guessed. Twenty-three ninety-seven. Two hundred and thirty some-odd years. How could that even be possible? Something straight out of Wells, that was it… Flynn: oO Holy hell, you can’t make this stuff up… Oo I see. She kept her response plain, her face carefully neutral. Teller continued: Teller: Unfortunately, there's more. The quakes your grandfather experienced, and the ones that began again here a few weeks ago, appear to be a sign that this world is about to vanish again. I won't lie to you - we don't fully understand this phenomena, and we're in no position to try to stop it. We need to get you and your people off this planet and out of this system as soon as possible. Leave?! Some hab domes, maybe a little terraforming equipment, an answer to what in the hell that reptile thing was wreaking havoc down in the tunnels. That’s what they’d been looking for from the Federation. A status update and a bit on ongoing support. Instead… this. Flynn: So not only are we a hundred and sixty-something years ahead of where we should be, now we have to leave our home? Teller: I doubt this is the kind of help you hoped for when you sent that distress call, but I can promise you that you'd be more than welcome into the Federation - your people could be resettled entirely on some new world and left to their own devices, or you could go back to Earth - see how we've managed over the last few centuries. I think you'd be pretty happy with what you found there. Ellen sat back. It was a hell of a proposition, either way. Leaving the planet was… not exactly what she’d had in mind. Not even a possibility she’d considered. Flynn: ::quietly:: Doesn’t seem like there’s much of an option… ::normal:: You know - when we left the Federation, it was just a loose collection of planets that could barely agree on what to call themselves… It would be nice to return to our original purpose- As the two discussed the future of the colony, heavy footsteps thundered against the metal flooring outside. Barely a second after they stopped, a sharp knock rattled the door. Ellen held up a hand to pause the conversation and called them inside. Juan and Constable Murphy still had most of their EV suits on - and from the panting and beads of sweat, Ellen guessed they had just sprinted back from wherever it was they found the pile of junk carried between them. Pieces of what appeared to be some kind of tubing snapped like crackers, the exposed internal circuitry giving off weak, blue-white sparks. Others were melted and fused together. EC-31 at work here, too… It had to be. Nothing else she knew could have destroyed something on this level. Teller’s eyes widened, a mix of disbelief and dismay. He studied the wreckage for a moment, before picking up a dark box that was largely untouched, save a few scratches and dents. Evidently, it had no appeal to the creatures. Teller tapped his badge, and spoke. Teller: =/\= Teller to Kells - Sir, we've got a new problem. =/\= While Teller conferred with his ship, Ellen turned to the two men. She'd sent three people. There were two in front of her now... Flynn: Leni? The constable shook his head. Ellen pulled her lips between her teeth, focused on a scratch on the desk, and gave a heavy nod. She picked up a nub of chalk, and turned to the count board. She pulled her sleeve halfway up her palm, rubbed out the ‘3’, and replaced it with a ‘2’. If anything could make her decision for her… Flynn: I’ll speak to her family later. Thank you, gentlemen. Get yourselves sorted - we may be needing you again later. As the two men left the cramped space, Teller had finished communicating with the ship and closed the channel. Flynn: So? Teller: Response Well, that wasn’t good. Flynn: I see. And let me guess, ::gesturing to the pile of debris:: that was your only way out of here? Teller: Response Ellen’s eyes widened - that was definitely not good... Flynn: As in - to the surface? Everyone? Teller: Response Another unthought-of scenario ran through Ellen’s mind. Getting everyone to the surface - everyone - would be literally impossible, given the colony’s current supply levels. Twenty suits, that’s all they had. Well, nineteen now... Flynn: I’m going to be frank with you, Mister Teller. We don’t have enough suits for that. And I’ll be damned if we’re leaving anyone behind. Teller: Response Tag/TBC __________ Ellen Flynn Colony Leader Vel Maijan Subterra E239602QD0

Engineering secrets here @Brell? I LOVED this quote

Defiant have an spacial place in my heart due it is the ship of my fav show. No logic behind it, it's DS9 and that's enough for me XD

I shared this on discord too but this retort KILLED me 🤣 @Geoffrey Teller

^^^^ @SirokTechnobable over 9000 👏👏👏

I'm re-reading some stuff for a SIM and this peal from @Quen Deena has come again: I know this has been praised in discord but it make me chuckle every time. Good job here

I must said that, image wise...HE IS right it was a super cool piece of description indeed, we need more of this around!

There are many times that I love small snippets of SIMs so deeply that they could be a reason to throw the whole post to the appreciation forum, but as I would basically spam that place every time any of you sends an email, I will open a thread just to include those great moments that can be read in the Thor. To initiate it, I would like to highlight this moment from @Alex Brodie I don't know why, the scene play in my head as the perfect comic moment, without the need to say anything and I chuckle every time I read it. Good job, Brodie! What other moments have you enjoyed? Share them with everybody else!

This SIM is an example of a PERFECT starter in my opinion. It tells a lot about the character that narrates the scene, it's fun, it inspires you to write and it leaves a lot of room for creativity for those that come after. It also has some of the best descriptions of the struggle against... "elements" that every first officers experience. Besides, on a personal level, it gave me the push I needed to get out of writer's block so my esteem for it is double. Thank you for this jewel @Geoffrey Teller! _______________________________________________ ((XO's office, Deck 1, USS Thor)) He'd been so careful. So clever and deft in his strategies. But, as he sat, surrounded on all sides by his oldest nemesis, Teller closed his eyes in surrender to the inevitable. The Paddwork had found him. All of it. After speaking with his team a few hours ago and then following up with the Boss, Teller had decided to take his new office for a quick spin. Only slightly smaller than the Captain's ready room and almost equally plush, it was a far cry from the small desk and chairs he'd grown used to as a Chief Engineer. The small observation window with its view of the warp core had been replaced by a magnificent set of panoramic viewports, giving Teller a spectacular view of the hauntingly beautiful slipstream corridor. He'd allowed himself a full minute to appreciate the view before turning his attention to the console on his desk. He had intended on spending some of this time getting his few personal effects out of the storage case, presently shoved in one corner of the office, but that had taken a back seat when Geoff foolishly opened his to-do list. As the computer merrily scrolled past the eight hundredth and fourteenth entry, Teller slumped back into his chair and began to dig in. That had been five hours ago. Somehow the list had gotten longer, and the padd he'd originally tossed on the desk had made friends and started a family. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Teller pushed back from the desk and crossed to the replicator mounted on the wall - another small but notable and pleasant difference from his old office. As his cup of coffee shimmered into existence, Geoff decided he needed a change before attacking the pile anew and hoped their research team had turned up some useful background information on the colony. Teller: =/\= Teller to Lt. Lovar & Ensign Alieth =/\= Lovar/Alieth: =/\= Response =/\= Teller: =/\= What've you been able to determine so far? =/\= Lovar/Alieth: =/\= Response =/\= Geoff's ears perked up. That sounded substantially more interesting than another few hours of paddwork. Teller: =/\= In that case, why don't you transfer your findings to my office and we'll review them together before bringing them to the Captain? =/\= Lovar/Alieth: =/\= Response =/\= Teller: =/\= Excellent, see you momentarily. =/\= As the channel closed, Geoff cast a victorious smirk towards the pile. ((A short time later)) The door chimed as Teller was wrestling with the contents of his shipping container. When he had packed it aboard the Veritas, he didn't think he'd violated the laws of physics or spatial geometry to fit everything inside, but after opening it and nearly being thrown against the ceiling by the overflowing contents, Geoff wondered if he should contact the Daystrom Institute - he could be in the running for a prize. Teller: Come in, make yourselves comfortable. I've got a fresh pot of coffee on the conference table. Geoff nodded towards the small, circular four seat table. It was neither as nice or as large as the one in the Captain's office, but it would serve perfectly for quick meetings and brainstorming sessions. Lovar/Alieth: Response Teller: So, take me through what you've learned. Lovar/Alieth: Response Tags/TBC! =============================== Lieutenant Commander Geoffrey Teller Executive Officer USS Thor Fleet Captain A. Kells, Commanding V239509GT0

Welcome on board peeps! Hope to see you around soon

It was a tight match between Fair Haven and Flotter tbh.... still Flotter is so deeply annoying and nightmare fuel that it deserves the poll over the VOY version of Subrosa. I want to add a (dis) honourable mention here to TNG "Cost of Living" and its deep characters displaying some of the best lines (and make-up) of the 90ish

Congrats for graduating! Hope to see you around soon