Alcyone Brennan

@Sal Taybrim I am unsure if I am allowed to say that I enjoyed reading his suffering, but.... yeah. Kinda did. I really enjoyed this sim, and now everyone else can, too! ((Wyn Foster’s Quarters – StarBase 118)) (Time index – Several days earlier, during the mission) When he had gone to bed – early, this surgery made him in bed before his grandfather. If he even had a grandfather. Biological that was. His father had confirmed that all his parents and grandparents were dead and the only one who mattered was Charles anyways. So some theoretical grandfather. Old man. There. He was going to bed before old men. Dottering old men who played chess in parks and yelled at kids to get off their holographic lawns. When he had gone to bed he was trying to get a vague plan of what to do tomorrow. He had limited mobility. The vertigo wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be – judging from the last time the antennae was literally ripped out by the root and left hanging. This was a precise and professional corrective, so maybe that was to be expected. But standing up was a chore and brought with it an unwelcome wave of nausea. So he didn’t get out much. But he had enjoyed company. Actually he craved company. So his plan was to call Ashley and see how the counselor was healing. Maybe they could hang out again. It was draining because Ashley was scarred by whatever all happened and Wyn would always give from his very limited well of energy to support the other person. What he really wanted was a family member here. Someone who would just give him unconditional love until he fell asleep. He didn’t ask much – just to have someone close, someone to lean on, someone to touch him and let him know he wasn’t alone. Beyond that he slept a lot and ate sometimes and watched trash holovids. But anyone could give him at least half of what he wanted. He preferred to not converse to much, but to simply be. Maybe, if he felt truly and utterly safe he might actually talk about the mess of feelings he kept bottled up inside. But he didn’t feel safe with most people. His Dad. Mark. Saveron. That was it. Three stinking people, and one was a sentient hologram. He hadn’t even told Rue. Maybe he should. He desperately needed a family member on StarBase 118. Someone he considered family. Not just a friend. But when he woke up, he had a message. Ashley got an approved to travel to Vulcan. He took the first ship. He was already gone. Wyn didn’t know why, but it felt like a betrayal. That was stupid, he told himself. In their conversation he had confirmed that yes, he was off duty and available, but they had never actually made plans. He had only made silent plans in his stupid little head. Silent plans meant nothing. Silent plans were imaginary. And now look where that got you? Ashley was gone. Fixing himself. That was good. Wyn stayed behind. Alone. He stared at the walls of his quarters and felt like he was grasping at straws. Who else did he know on this entire huge StarBase that he trusted enough to call on a commline. Rustyy… on the Rahuba. Rue… on the Rahuba. Alora…on the Rahuba. And for a moment he cursed himself for being such an idiot. Maybe he should know more people. Maybe he shouldn’t have counted on Ashley being around. Maybe he shouldn’t stay inside. And yet his brain welled up and cursed back: Maybe you’re not worthy enough for anyone to care about… Maybe this was what he deserved. So many nights on the Constitution where he brushed off his crewmates games and activities to hide in his quarters fighting with the demons of the past. Too many days hiding in his office because he hadn’t slept enough. Foster: I’m trying OK?! I was frakking trying to fix things! He screamed it at the wall. The wall didn’t care. The vertigo hit hard and he collapsed on his knees. Alone. Again. Always alone. This was a long road he walked, and he felt that he walked it alone for so long. And the times that someone was with him were brief shining sunlight moments in a vast well of darkness. Wrapping his arms around his chest he did the one thing he only did when he was truly desperate. When all other ideas had been exhausted. When he felt he was doing the right thing but always getting the wrong responses. Foster: Computer… open a comm channel. Lt. Commander Cade Foster, USS Constitution. Computer: Lt. Commander Cade Foster is unavailable. Foster: Page him over the comms system! Computer: Lt Commander Cade Foster is not on the USS Constitution, StarBase 104 or within Starfleet comms range. He growled the next words in panic and despair. Foster: Where is he?! Computer: I am sorry, that is classified. Foster: Classified my ass! Computer: I do not recognize that command… He swore at the computer and collapsed on his bed, exhausted from the attempt. If he was in his right mind he might have gone to the hub. Contacted Commodore Taybrim. Emphasized he was looking for his Dad, asked for clearance. He wasn’t in his right mind. He curled up in a ball and sobbed for hours until exhaustion overtook him. ~*~ ~tbc~ ~*~ Lt Commander Shar’Wyn Foster Head Surgeon StarBase 118 Ops

I was just about to post this one 😇 I love Geoff

A statement which surprises absolutely no one

wroooooong topic 😂

I knew you would appreciate the place I chose I really enjoy doing fluff during shore leave - it evens out the amputations and explosions and murder squirrel riots

Because there was nothing the ginger Betazoid loved more than talking with new friends – except possibly talking with old friends. Commodore Taybrim - Home Safe

I really enjoyed this scene from Ki'yara, simmed by @Sal Taybrim. The way it picks up on the mood of the scene is really well done, as is how it escalates without resulting into violence. Despite the riot-scene not being planned, it feels like the characters narration has been building up towards a climax like this. Definitely one of my highlights this mission ((Sickbay, USS Rahuba)) Kasun: These enemies attacked them not long ago, before they entered the cloud and happen to look like Andorians. Enemies. The grey ones. The hostiles. Those who had insisted that they were the rules of the stars. Her father had made no friends with them when he replied that it was arrogance to presume one could own a star or a planet. Time and life was merely rented from the guides and each planet and star would outlast generations of Grey Ones or Risu. But the Grey Ones were arrogant and did not see life that way. All they wished to do was crush those who did not comply. She had seen then up close and personal. They did not look like the blue woman in the Healer’s care. Nor did they look like the blue Leader Dal on her ship. But rumors and fear were pervasive. They looked enough like the Grey Ones that fear spread like wildfire. Licking at Ki’yara’s fragile telepathy, threatening a blowout and backdraft of hostility. Ki’yara: I am trying to tell them… the Grey Ones are not here. But they are… difficult to reach… Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she strained in one of the most basic aspects of her role. Basic to speak, but incredibly difficult to moderate. Nothing had prepared her for this level of raging emotion. Tito: I see. Blackwell::She glanced to Tito, and then back to the Risu - she hoped that cooler heads could prevail with this:: Perhaps we should just give the speaker a moment to talk ::And she glanced to Ki’yara:: Ki’yara: I’m trying… Her voice was breathy and she started to consider how to communicate with them who was the real enemy. Tito: Anything I can help with? Trovek: Yes, please move between the Risu and Lieutenant Sh'shyllerh. I have already informed our visitors that we will cease lending medical aid to their people should they attempt to harm her, or anyone else. Tito: ? The overwhelming maelstrom of emotions did not allow her to reach their minds like she was taught to do. As the newcomer interposed himself between her people and the injured blue woman she stood up and clenched her tiny little fists. Ki’yara: Please! Stop attacking! We asked for help, they are trying to help us! Risu: They’re liars! They are controlling the Speaker! Her ears dipped downwards in betrayal and dismay. She felt the ice cold pain of rejection and tears started to well and drain from the corners of her eyes, making the fur beside them matted and moist. Blackwell: ::Rue moved to stand in front of the Speaker, putting her hands up:: No, we’ve not manipulated her in any way - we have only sought to help. Kasun: I know you’re scared and I would be too in your circumstances, but we are not allies of those who attacked you. Our ship’s encounter with yours was entirely by chance and we only want to get you patched up and on your way. Trovek/Tito: ? Ki’yara: Please! If they had wanted to attack why go to the deception of trying to help! You are safe! Please stop! Her words were thin and anxious. Pleading. She had lost the ability to sound calm and confident. She sounded young and desperate. Blackwell: You are telepathic, correct - able to read thoughts and emotions? Ki’yara: I can… but the emotions are overwhelming! Trovek/Tito: ? Blackwell: Then you are welcome to read my mind ::She said firmly:: I’ve been working with your speaker, along with my colleagues, and we are attempting to help, not manipulate, and certainly not to endanger you. She took in a slow breath, understanding what the Communicator was trying to do. But the majority of her people were not telepathic in a traditional way. Telepathy among most Risu was an intimate low-level bond between a tiny handful of close people. Usually only a partner or mate, and a parent or child. Speakers were a hereditary position based on those who had stronger telepathy. Ones who could speak to the whole and hear the voices of the ancestors. Could she amplify for her people? She had to try. In one tiny paw she took up the Communicator’s hand and concentrated. Ki’yara: Let me help you. Trovek/Tito: ? She didn’t mean it. The feelings were overwhelming. As the Communicator broadcast good, pure intentions, her people fought back with pain and fear. And finally Ki’yara screamed out and what she projected was raw. The sight of her father, attacked by the Grey Ones. She focused in on the graven sooty, unyielding countenance. The vivid cerulean hair, the dead and lifeless eyes. She relived watching her father die. She focused on those who did it. She let rumors go free and focused on what the Grey Ones were. Valcarians. That is what they called themselves. No. We do not condemn all species for the crimes of one. The tears flowed freely as she weakly projected Rue’s goodwill, her energy draining out of her as she relieved the worst moments of her young life and projected them to her people and anyone who could sense them. As she sunk to her knees, exhausted, her people started to stand down. Risu: ::Suspiciously :: Why are you helping us? What benefit are you looking for? Blackwell: Because - it’s just what we do. ::She said firmly:: Kasun: As for the benefit, your ship is currently stranded within our people’s territory. At the very least repairing your ship and sending you along on your way is more beneficial to us than leaving you all stranded. Ki’yara: Because working together we can both benefit. Is that so hard to understand? Maybe she meant ‘is that so hard to believe.’ Both were shockingly similar at times. Trovek/Tito/Blackwell: ? Kasun: As a culture our people tend to be altruistic, :: she shrugged :: but we know not every culture is the same. That you disbelieve us is understandable but we are telling the truth about our intentions. Trovek/Tito/Blackwell: ? Risu: ? Ki’yara: We tried to do this by ourselves! ::She returned.:: But we suffered lossed and I am not too proud to admit that we need help! Trovek/Tito/Blackwell/Kasun: ? Risu: ? Ki’yara: I came up here to speak with you! I came to calm you, to protect you, to save you from yourselves. I am sure we can go back home, right now, if you are well enough to do so. Trovek/Tito/Blackwell/Kasun: ? Risu: ? Ki’yara: But that is the point, to find a new home! Sometimes she wondered if she was being obtuse or if she simply saw things with more clarity. Trovek/Tito/Blackwell/Kasun: ? Risu: ?

The bestest and brightest ❤️

An intruder! ❤️

From the narration of Tito: Tito nodded and kept his eyes on some of the Risu. There were a few that had some things on their hands. He of all people knew how anything, literally anything could be used as a weapon. Even a Risuan.

On the one side I feel sorry for @Rustyy_Hael, on the other side his suffering is really entertaining That's what you get if you leave him alone with a squirrel lady and two trill ensigns Fantastic sim, I read it, re-read it, and read it AGAIN. ((Si’Laan Migration Ship - Engineering)) ((Timeskip)) If there were a few things Rustyy hated it would list as; People who kicked machines to get them to work, People who tried to fix machines not having a clue what to do, Bugs…. And out of those three, there was only one thing he actually _hated_, the rest just went on to annoy more than anything. To those that didn’t know him well, the answer is BUGS. Alaska wasn’t known for bugs and when he went to the academy on Earth, he quickly found out that the world was covered in them… Made his skin crawl. Space didn’t have mocu for bugs, which suited him perfectly. But then, even out here, nothing was for sure or absolute. Velix: So what do we do? Just wait for Commander DeVeau to find a solution? Y’zyr: Staying out of the way? Hael: Nah, ther’ always be work to be done few engineers. ::he smirked.:: An’ ‘cause yer workin’ with me, yer engineers fer’a bit. Velix: Hey. Sure. Just letting them talk and decide what to do, other than wait until someone finds a solution. Y’zyr: I’m not sure I know what to do here. I was hoping the engineers could tell us what we need to do. If Rustyy was an eyeroller, he would have done so by now. If he was a little less oblivious to all things save for engineering, he might have noted the flirtyness between the two he’d brought with him. Rustyy would always be a third wheel, though never notice it or the awkwardness of it either. Velix: True. Well you could sit down here and look at these weird plants. And one of my symbionts hosts was a botanist - weird plant is my professional description. Look. Rustyy had already turned back to the funny words on the computer screen, more focussed on the graphical and gauge layout and readings. He could see - kind of - where the power output was going, including the extra strain where Commander Dal was located. That spot needed to be cut off from main power, and soon. It was like a bad oil leak like in an ‘80s GM or mid ‘90s Nissan. He made a few faces for no reason in particular. Y’zyr: You said weird plant? Velix: Weirdo plant, that’s what I said. Why? Rustyy caught the word ‘weirdo’ and turned. He’d missed most of the rest of the conversation. He glanced around to look for something weird. Truth be told, he’d put most of the things here in that category. Though, likewise would classify things as unique, different, unusual. His vocabulary had lits of words that to him, meant the same thing. Hael: Uh… ev’rythin’ good. ::he spoke in hushed tones to his team.:: Ya’faemi: What in the names of all the ancestors are you doing? Velix: Y’zyr noticed something weird. Y’zyr: Actually… ::his nose turned up under his mask slightly:: … are those plants *supposed* to be crawling with bugs? Rustyy opened his mouth - but the scratch that came from the tiny, squirrel chief engineer, cut him off in an instant. He cringed, embarrassingly. He didn’t stop to peer over at the plant in question. Ya’faemi: What! Well I never. This is a clean ship, we have no such pests here! If you see them then you and your parasite brought them on board. Oh no… this didn’t seem like a good time. They weren’t making a very good, lasting impression at all. And he was very much out of depths on the matter, not sure how to redirect or fix this at all… and he outranked the other two which made him responsible! This was his teen years all over again… herding toddlers at family reunions. Only this had a bigger impact on peoples and future interactions. Well shit… Velix: I don’t see anything. Are you sure they’re not *inside* your suit? Hael: How’s ‘bout we focus - Y’zyr: Geoff. You can see them? ::the spider bot nodded his adorable head:: Can you grab a few of them for me? Geoff: Sure thing, dad. It very quickly turned into a stooge moment. Rustyy threw his hands up and turned away, forgetting for a moment he was in an area that wasn’t tall enough and whacked the top of the helmet he was wearing. He cursed under his breath and grumbled. He’d already forgotten the tiny, creepy, menace had been brought along. And it was still creepy. He kept his back turned turned as he worked to catch his breath and will away a sudden pain in his head… and another part of his anatomy. Geoff: Got two! They’re fast. ::pause, then blustering:: But I’m *faster!* Velix: You are a little weird, you know? And I mean that in the most positive way possible. Ya’faemi: :: She shuttered with suppressed revulsion :: And they’re the ones accusing us of carrying pests. Hael: I know…. ::he mumbled to the squirrel woman. His face expressed his feelings and thoughts plainly.:: Y’zyr: I’m telling you, they’re there. They seem to be *flickering.* Like… they’re fading in and out every second or so. He mentally willed the cyborg, his creeper and the dark skinned polka dotted woman to … well to do anything other than this. Meanwhile, Rustyy worked to continue to converse power and facilitate where best the ships should settle in next to each other for maximum coverage and minimal strain. Y’zyr: These bugs seem to have contained some sort of radiation… or chronitons? It’s hard to get a clear reading on them… half the time it’s like the scanner can’t even find them. :::he pried Geoff off his face and then got a better look at his fellow companions suspicious faces:: I swear I’m not mad. They’re there! Rustyy turned, his eyes went wide and he ducked down and back away. As in “I don’t know you crazy people!” He looked like a person trying to avoid getting tagged by a hot poker. Unreasonably enough, his first thought “cyborg ocular implants were jacked up.” but if creeper was out there catching them… Velix: I am a scientist. Trust me. ::pause:: I mean, you can trust me, I’m a scientist. And I’ve seen bugs before. Oh he could hug her! Saved him from a horrible death, death by fear of bugs… bugs in his suit! Oh no… he closed his eyes and pretended anything else was happening. Who prayed for warp core meltdown? He did… ~~ Lieutenant Commander Rustyy Hael Chief Engineer Starbase 118 Ops USS Narendra A239202RH0 ~~

From the Narration of Rustyy Rustyy caught the word ‘weirdo’ and turned. He’d missed most of the rest of the conversation. He glanced around to look for something weird. Truth be told, he’d put most of the things here in that category. Though, likewise would classify things as unique, different, unusual. His vocabulary had lits of words that to him, meant the same thing.

Thank you, I really appreciate the positive feedback ❤️

Se’vayan: ::nodding:: And I will come to your…. Ruhaba. Tito smiled and politely corrected the Healer. Tito: It’s Rahuba, Healer Se’vayan. Se’vayan: I said that. Please lead the way, Scientist DeVeau, Mister Toti. Tito replaced his smile, but resisted the urge to narrow his eyes. Or kick the Healer when he turned. Or teach him proper spelling. Making sure the Healer was out of sight he tilted his head to Commander DeVeau and rolled his eyes as if saying “He calls me Toti one more time and I am kicking him.” Toti ❤️

Neverrrrr

I think you missed that part Neeya is a bro.

lol

Hug him and love him forever!

Engineering is next!

Home - the place you are haunted by the guy you dated in Highschool who never grew up

Are you sure Aine shouldn't be dreaming of Sil?

You are making this look like the best place ever 💜

Sal needs a social life

From the narration of Y'zyr:

* giggle *