Nestira Aristren

I expected a lot, but not this

I absolutely adore this sim from our beloved CO @Sal Taybrim This was great way to deal with the fallout of the last Terra Prime mission, and the difficulty for someone like Sal to sit back and let others lead. Having been absent in the mission itself, the introspection of this shed some light on his feelings on what happened. I am very much looking forward to continuing this scene with you!

from: Commodore Taybrim - Didn't See It Coming

I've not seen the inclusion/reference of a song work in a fast-pace situation without slowing it down and shifting focus away from the actual scene. I really like how this was done here, it's a great read ❤️

Considering that I was writing this half asleep, I am delighted that I was able to cheer you up a little ❤️

Thank you, and well deserved everyone ❤️ Please take this as a request to start cross-ship JPs with all of you amazing people! @Sal Taybrim - I can't wait to get the opportunity to have Neeya bug Cade @Vitor S. Silveira - If Sil needs some sense smacked into him again, feel free to have him take a trip to Ops and visit his pal Arys

I really enjoyed reading this ❤️ It's the perfect mixture of professionalism and taking charge of a situation that isn't really going anywhere. If we survive, Aine definitely is one of the people to thank for it _________ ((OOC: I normally try not to go back too far in my overlapping, but I've added in some back narrative to give some context. Didn't change any of my old narrative and it doesn't affect the outcome, just more context.)) ((Engineering, SS Belladonna)) Sherlock: Anyone else's tricorder not working? Of course they weren't. It always seemed as though nothing worked right, especially when right in the middle of a crisis. But that was the life of a Starfleet officer. The highly trained leaders they were had been drilled from day one at the Academy to adapt and overcome. Asta: There’s some sort of interference… Luthas: I didn’t bring one, so no idea. Is it an everythings borked kinda not working or just some things aren’t working kinda deal? That was quite the statement coming from a Marine Captain. Though Aine had barely used one in almost a year and a half, and oddly last time it didn't work either, she at least always carried one. It was tool that could save your life as much as the other tool, a phaser, strapped to her hip. Sherlock: I'm not sure...I'm hardly an engineer. Ideas? ::looking to Renot and Asta:: Renot: Yeah, my tricorder is down too, bah. I’ve always had issues with mine, so take that with a grain of salt… or ten. I mean, it’s kinda important, but we may be able to manage without it. Always had issues? What did that mean? Aine wondered why, if Egil's tricorder always had issues, he didn't just get a new one. She could feel her breathing getting a little deeper. Her lungs were trying to bring in as much oxygen to her blood, trying to get her body to relax. Asta: ::Rocking on their feet:: It could be due to the merging of the warp bubbles… but we should be able to compensate for that. Luthas: I don’t remember that being an effect of tricobalt, beyond the normal radiation stuff. Maybe there’s something extra causing the problem? Renot: I’m not entirely sure on this one. There’s so many things that it could be, honestly. All of them were valid hypotheses. It was the mention of the warp bubble that had Aine worried. Any possible disruption could lead to any number of disasters. From losing transporter pattern signals to dropping below warp three. Sherlock: We'll keep an eye on it, see if this spreads. For right now, it's an annoyance that's just taking away one tool... Asta: I’m worried it’s a leak in the secondary coolant systems. ::They frowned deeply.:: While it’s not critical to keep the warp engines from breaching, the secondary systems play into the impulse drive. Luthas: That’s bad. Renot: Yeah, it is. Why… is it leaking dare I ask? Another slow, deep breath. The words "keep calm" kept repeating in her mind. She honestly didn't care about the "why's" right now, only that the problem existed and needed to be fixed. She felt like everything was moving off the rails. Sherlock: But if not critical to keeping us above Warp 3, it shouldn't be that big an issue ::beat:: right? Asta: That not only makes it much more difficult for us to slow down, if we can’t fix it, but it can release gamma radiation, which will mess with tricorders and scanners – and if we’re not careful mess with your brain. Loss of vision, delirium, hallucinations, headaches, the works. And there it was. They already had a deadly device to deal with, problem one. On a time constraint based on the distance to Betazed, problem two. With now limited tools, problem three. And now...trying not to have their brains melted, problem four. Luthas: Sooo... Renot: To translate, that’s pretty darn bad, yeah. Kinda hard to defuse a bomb when tripping out like you ate some funky mushrooms. The causal nature brought her mind back to Risa. After the destruction of the Resolution, she'd been a part of a group counselling session. She remembers explaining to her crewmates and Captain how one thought would lead to another and how it would quickly spiral out of control. The cycle of blame. She was beginning to feel that way again. It took everything in her to focus and bring the conversation back. Sherlock: ::to Asta:: What do you need from us, Chief? Asta: With scanners down we’ll have to go directly to the impulse core. Also sealed off to all by the engineering core. And if there’s gamma radiation, we’ll be exposed. I have safety gear, we’ll need to suit up just in case and pray we don’t start going crazy on the way down. Luthas: Yeah, don’t want that. So is that something we’ll need to take care of first before the bomb goes off or can it wait? Sherlock: Again, I'm no engineer, but I'd assume if we can't get it fixed, there's a chance we won't make it to defusing the bomb. The ship will be a lifeless missile. Renot: That would be quite correct, yes. In a best case scenario… I’ll spare the details of the worst case. Asta: ? The sigh from the Marine Captain perfectly encompassed Aine's own feelings on the situation, but she wasn't about to show it. They just have to deal with one impossible thing at a time. Luthas: So how many people are you going to need to do whatever? :: He gestured vaguely. :: Cause impulse cores aren’t our :: he pointed between himself and Sherlock :: speciality. Sherlock: We can't send both Engineers there. One of you ::pointing to Renot and Asta:: needs to stay here. If something were to go wrong with the ship, like if that warp bubble starts to collapse, we need someone here who can deal with it. Renot: I mean, we also have the risk of remote detonation, do we not? The person who planted this must know we are here by now. Aine's chin dropped and she looked to the floor. It was her turn to sigh. She could feel it was getting harder to keep it together, something about the situation was bothering her...and it wasn't the bomb nor the radiation. Asta: ? Luthas: So shouldn’t we leave this thing with a babysitter? :: He jerked his thumb at the partially dismantled device. :: Or do you have a way to shut off the engineering area so no one else sneaks in and starts messing with the place? Renot: I can set up those signal jammers round this area to prevent what I mentioned at least. I’m still listening… A small bit of relief, the Ensign took some initiative. One problem down, four more to go. Asta: ? It was decisions like this that every officer feared. You could be sending two people to a particularly nasty death. But there was still a job to do, which if abandoned, would mean the deaths of tens of thousands to billions. Sherlock: Chief, would it be safe to say that you know this ship inside out? Asta: ? Sherlock: So you're most likely to be able to get the impulse drive fixed fastest? Asta: ? Sherlock: Ok. It's my recommendation that Captain Luthas and you proceed with the repair. Luthas: It’s not my area of expertise, but I can follow instructions with the best of them. Also if you need a dongle jury rigged I’m you man. Aine's jaw tightened and a slight twitch of the neck that was her stopping herself from glaring at Renot when she heard what could only be a stifled laugh. Asta: ? Sherlock: Vulcans have a much higher constitution than humans. This is a matter of practicality. We can't afford to lose anyone and this would minimise the risk overall. Asta: ? Luthas: Despite what my charming personality would indicate, I can assure you I am 100% Vulcan. She didn't know exactly what the Captain was saying. What she had said was meant as a condemnation or aspersion, it was simply a statement of physical fact meant to convey that a Vulcan would be more likely to enter that situation with a higher likelihood of survival. Before she could speak, however, the Ensign came barrelling over waving his driver in the air. Renot: You think leaving the two behind who don’t know explosives with the big boom is.. A good idea?! Also hi! Al-Leyan! Not human either! Hmph… Sherlock: ::taking a deep breath:: That's not at all what this is about... Asta: ? Luthas: Anything else we need to know before we split the gang up? Renot: Yes, actually; what is a dongle? And please tell me you aren’t serious about leaving the two most under qualified people alone with this to try and not make it go off?! Sherlock: oOUnder qualified!?Oo Asta/Luthas: ? Renot: On one hand, I get the slight logic of sending one engineer and keeping the other. On the other hand, have we all lost our minds?! With all due respect, I feel like the least qualified space elf to baby sit a bomb. It was too much. Sherlock: Everybody! STOP! This isn't a goddamned democracy! Ensign, stand down! Go over there ::pointing towards the bomb:: and wait! Aine waited for the Ensign to move just out of earshot (if she could keep her voice down at this point he would be). Sherlock: Captain, I don't know how you normally do things in whatever Marine unit you're from, but frankly, you are one of the most indecisive Marine's I've ever served with. And while I can appreciate a Vulcan who's chosen to be different from the others, I will not allow that choice to compromise the mission, ever. Now, I've made a choice. You're going with Chief Asta to repair the radiation leak and you can talk all you want on the way there. But the situation here is out of hand and it will not continue this way. Those are my orders. Asta/Luthas: ? She held her head high as she about faced and made her way towards the core, the bomb, and the apparently panicked Ensign. She'd never once before had to order another officer around and had hoped she wouldn't ever have to. Perhaps things were so different with a space station crew versus the crew of a ship, who knows. But whatever it was, she had to get a handle on it. As she approached Egil, she waved him over towards the bomb. She could see that they had already opened the outer casing. She carefully lifted a dangling piece and examined it. Sherlock: I see you've already exposed the inner workings of the device? Renot: ? Sherlock: ::continuing to examine the piece in her hands:: A bomb like this is nothing more than a circuit. Think of it like wiring for a light. Except at the end of the circuit it goes boom instead of flash. The Ensign was way more qualified than he thought. And she would show him exactly that. Renot: ? Sherlock: When you guys were removing this, did you check for anti-tampering devices? Renot: ? And now she would show him just how qualified she was. Sherlock: We don't know each yet, Ensign. But I was formerly a Chief of Security on two starships. I'm a trained armorer, that includes demolition and explosives. In addition, I Majored in Intelligence at the Academy, so I have training in counter terrorism. This is why, at twenty-four, I was able to become a Chief on a starship. Together, we've got this. Renot: ? tags/TBC Lieutenant Aine Sherlock Tactical Officer StarBase 118 Ops R239712AS0

Thank you ❤️ Three more parts to go!

Congratulations everyone, and thank you for making this place awesome ❤️

There are some people who just blow you away with their writing, and @Nella Noxwyn is definitely one of these people. Nella is our newest Security Ensign and essentially just fresh out of Academy - which makes the sim even more impressive. Lean back, read something cool, leave a nice comment ❤️ ((Evac-10, SS Belladonna)) Ensign Noxwyn hadn't said much since the beam-over to the SS Belladonna. For all the verve and vivacity she showed at the Academy and on the bridge of the USS Narendra, she increasingly felt a growing disunion with those earlier feelings—reality didn't care; the evacuation carried on. It was inexperience, perhaps, that allowed her mind to wander up a blind alley. Inexperience caused Nella to blurt out something she half-remembered about insisting on “taking point” for Commander DeVeau's team. The exact words she'd uttered were the half she didn't remember, but resounded in memory like something plagiarized from the Academy Security manual. The half she did remember was the palpable sting of deep embarrassment in her Iotian heart that hadn't subsided. She had been too formal, perhaps too emotional, and the other officers definitely seemed to notice this. There was a slew of comments about not coming aboard blasting with phasers; that was never her plan. To a security officer fresh from the Academy, “taking point” meant to assume the most exposed position in a military formation. It was her duty ((not her call of duty)) to protect the officers with her—especially if they were Narendra's XO and Chief Medical Officer! Nella feared she'd been misunderstood, but knew better than to argue semantics in that moment with her superiors; and that was the moment that rendered her demure. She hadn't spoken much or been lively since. Doubt. The feeling was overwhelming and spreading through her, virulently. Nella Noxwyn had long imagined herself a member of Starfleet. Multitudinous hours of dreaming spent on creating this moment in her mind's eye—her first active service mission as a commissioned Starfleet officer. Now it was finally here, and Ensign Nella Noxwyn was in doubt. oO Well, ain't that I'm feeling so swell about it now . . . Oo She'd left most of her focus in the transporter room, and she must have lost the rest during the beam-over. Was this actually happening? Was she dreaming? Was her life-long ambition fading out of view? Was she blowing her career already? Was she simply exhausted? Could she afford to be exhausted? No. Absolutely not! The crew was counting on her to focus; yet she couldn't focus. Why?! Whatever the reason for her lack of focus, it was needed now more than water in a desert and proved just as elusive. Conversations between the two other officers continued around her as she milled through habit, just as she'd done by rote during sleepless morning drills at the Academy. She was already leaning fully on routine and habit to carry her through. Her mind was elsewhere, and she was lost. This wasn't just because her body was broken into particles and transferred to the Belladonna's lounge. It was the characteristics of the lounge itself that transported her memory back to Sigma Iotia II; specifically, to Beamtown: her home. More specifically, to the Beamtown Avenue Cabaret—her mother's nightclub ,where Nella had lived and worked all her life. No laws prevented minors from tending bar in Beamtown, so she'd done that, and just about everything else involved in running such an establishment, at some stage growing up. It was the closest she'd felt to home since she'd left. She'd left to join Starfleet. She'd left to join Starfleet because the Beamtown Avenue Cabaret was bombed in a turf war. Now, she was in a lounge aboard the SS Belladonna, wearing a Starfleet dress uniform she hadn't removed since her graduation ceremony earlier that day, in order to assist the command crew of Starbase 118 in diffusing a bomb. Too many coincidences. Too many similarities. She was being haunted. Her mind went full circle, but her body moved by routine alone. Scanning this, nodding that, occasionally verbalizing a short response to the other officers, but not interacting much. They were discussing everything between them, and she keenly felt the slack she offered for them to hold taught. When the officers seemed to prompt Nella for input, she only drew blank—a nod, a “yes sir”. No focus. None in the turbolift after they'd left the lounge. None in the Evac point, where they were now. Ensign Nella wanted to be here. Nella wanted to be elsewhere. Ensign Nella wanted to be here. Nella wanted to be elsewhere. The two rival gangs in her head squared off. Ensign Nella's mind snapped back to the moment, and the voice of Dr.Trovek: Trovek: They are beginning with Evac-10 to Evac-15, the evacuation points in the center. My suggestion is to go to the passenger quarters belonging to those evacuation points and wait for the update on who is missing. ::she paused:: But it's just a suggestion, ma'am. oO Great Montgomery Scott! How long was I out?!! -- Focus, Nellie! You remember more about the plan than you think! C'mon! Focus! Get back in action!! Oo DeVeau: And it’s a good one, so no point in ignoring it. but…I think I have a way to make getting updates a little easier and quicker. Trovek: You do? Noxwyn: How's that, Commander? DeVeau seemed to keep that secret to herself. DeVeau: The entrance is just down here. Commander DeVeau led them along a corridor, to a large bay. From what Noxwyn recalled of the Belladonna's schematics, this was probably a large recreational module or artificial biosphere. Instead, a set of wide doors opened up and inside the room were the evacuees; some of them, but some of them was a lot of them. DeVeau: Stay here. I’ll be back. Trovek: Sure... Commander DeVeau became as poise incarnate, and used her command experience and authority to silently part the crowd before her, creating an organized path to her intended target. These people knew at this point they were being evacuated, and they obviously recognized that Commander DeVeau would be the one taking charge. Nella broke from her amazement at this to do her job, which was to keep watch over DeVeau and Trovek. That meant one eye to split between the two other officers, and left Nella's other eye to indistinctly survey the crowd. DeVeau returned almost as quickly as she had left—or so it seemed to Nella. That was just as well. The room had an odor of sweat, stress hormones from a cocktail of species, and stale air. Thousands of quiet private conversations coalesced into a loud gurgle of indecipherable speech. It would be good to get this crowd on the move. DeVeau: Okay, got a list, and linked my triPADD with the ship’s manifest. When people are reported missing, it’ll come up automatically and we can go hunting. It’ll save some time too. ::Stepping back out of the evacuation area, Commander DeVeau held the device so that the other officers could see it clearly:: DeVeau: And here’s our first list. Let’s get started. Commander DeVeau turned and led the way on the search for the first missing passenger. Dr. Trovek had obviously been preparing extensively for this plan and was reciting important information. Nella felt more focus now; she was regaining control. Trovek: Our first group seems to be a whole family missing - at least their last names - Onagh - implies that. Can we locate them via the ship's computer? oO Onagh. . . Oo DeVeau: response Trovek: Good Idea. The Commander and the Doctor led the way; so much for Nella taking point. What a palooka, she'd been! This wasn't at all how she wanted to perform on her first mission, but maybe her first career lesson was in seeing so many people needing help—so many people in a danger they weren't aware of. So many people on the Narendra dedicated to helping. So many more people on Starbase 118 and other vessels supporting the effort. Far more people in danger on Betazed—this wasn't about her at all! Perhaps in that moment, what remained of Cadet Noxwyn ceased to exist. This wasn't training. This was definitely not a drill. Ensign Noxwyn was on duty. Nella kept alert as the team was led through a complex of corridors and eventually ended up in one of the more 'luxurious' areas of the ship. There were plants and fresh flowers that Nella had never seen before—not that she had ever seen many. Beamtown was more like a massive enclosed dome than a city, as it was located on Sigma Iotia II's polar continent, near the planet's true magnetic north. This room was captivating and pleasant, in strict contrast to the nature of their mission. The doctor's tricorder chimed as it detected a reading. Trovek: Guess this is a lot easier than we thought. DeVeau: response Nella then received a note from her own tricorder—a nearby wall showed an unusual zone of heat from somewhere within. Nella cautiously approached the wall and felt it with a gloved hand. The wall was warm in a single spot... warm, but on the edge of being too hot. Perhaps it was a component of the systems used to maintain the plant life in this area, perhaps it was something far more hazardous. Nella wasn't sure; she wasn't an engineer; she wasn't a botanist; she was a security officer, and her job was to be suspicious. Noxwyn: Commander, Doctor. I'm gettin' odd thermal readings from this wall! It's . . . hot. Can you make anything of it? Nella may have set herself up for another embarrassment, or, she may have found something pertinent to the mission. She was so fresh from the Academy she wasn't sure. That's why experienced officers—some of the fleet's best, in fact—were with her, to make that determination. Nella felt less alone now, and just as well. People, many people, were counting on her to get back in action! Trovek/DeVeau: response TAG/TBC -- Ensign Nella Noxwyn Security Officer Starbase 118 Ops / USS Narenedra NCC-26595 O239906NN2

Congratulations to all! ❤️ You're all amazing

Honestly, I love to see how much you've grown as a writer (yeah yeah, you're not a writer, you're just a player, I knooooow), and I adore the integrity with which you play Tito. Can't wait to have Ferri wrap him around her little finger again Easy victim

Thank you ❤️ I am not sure what I am channeling here, and I am somewhat surprised that I enjoy it so much Stay tuned for more to come!

Absolutely loving this flashback scene from @Vitor S. Silveira I know you worked really hard on this, and it definitely shows ❤️ Keep up the great work ((USS Narendra, Astrophysics)) Tito narrowed down the passengers list in search of the saboteur. But with enough names to still work on he called in another Intelligence Officer to assist. When Lieutenant Aristren joined him Tito stood by her side as they walked out and headed to the nearest turbolift. Tito: There is a bomb on a passenger cruise liner. I was tasked with screening the fifty passengers that boarded lastly to see if any of them might be a saboteur. I have narrowed it down to twenty two and I was counting on your expertise so we can flush him, or them out. Aristren: May I ask what criteria you used to reduce the number of suspects? Tito: I cross linked their data with criminal files, associations to Terra Prime, Intelligence reports, you know. The works. Also sidelined the non humans without any criminal or suspected activities. And children obviously. The Lieutenant nodded. Aristren: I am however wondering if it is wise to exclude non-humans. On what grounds have you decided to do so? They entered the turbolift. Tito was surprised by her question. Tito: That is obvious considering Terra Prime is an extremist pro-human group. Aristren: There will be more than one way for Terra Prime to convince an individual, or several, to serve them. Most species are easily convinced to commit crimes if their families are in danger, going as far as to cause the death of billions. Lieutenant Aristren made a good point. The fact that she pointed to a possible flaw in his work, hand in hand to being a Rodulan, made Tito react, even if he was trying his best to shield his thoughts. oO Thank you for questioning the work I have done. Oo Realizing he let the thought cross his mind he added in a cold voice. Tito: I took an educated guess. It isn’t easy to scrutinise fifty passengers in an hour and half. She gave another nod as the turbolift kept going to its destination. The slip of his mind reminded him he was thought to secure his mind. That was why he wasn’t fond of telepaths nowadays. ((Flashback, Stardate 238812.29)) ((USS Stargazer, Vetras quarters)) Vetras: ::exasperated:: You're not focusing, Vitor. Vitor opened his eyes and shook his head. He and Vetras had been dating for nearly a month. Being a Cairn her telepathic abilities were uncommon. And for the untrained mind, especially to a human one, it could be dangerous. Tito: I am tired. I know I need to learn to shield my mind from you but can't we do it tomorrow? Vetras stood up from her couch where they were both sitting. Her metallic tone, the result of her voice enhancer, was quite unpleasant. Vetras: Your impossible Vitor. Vitor stood up and opened his arms. Tito: Really? I mean you taught me the basics. Why do I need to reinforce my mind? She turned and began gesturing. Tito was still learning sign language from her and only picked up a few words. The fact she reverted to sign language meant she was getting annoyed. Tito: Can you slow down? I can’t follow you at that speed. And what do you mean by losing control? Vetras stepped near him and looked up. She was considerably smaller than Vitor, something he always found cute in her. Vetras: If I am intimate with someone I am not very careful. Vitor narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. Tito: Intimate? ::He let the word sink in:: Oh… ::he began to realise what she meant:: OH ::He blushed:: Oh…. K ::He said sheepishly:: Vetras smiled and stepped closer to him, caressing his cheek. Vetras: You are so cute when your dumb. Vitor didn’t really know what to say, he leaned down, held her tightly and kissed her. Letting his thoughts speak for him. oO Then I have extra motivation for training. Oo ((End flashback)) Returning to the present he wondered what of that memory Lieutenant Aristren caught. Rodulans were also powerful telepaths. He shrugged that thought off as they arrived on deck one. ((USS Narendra, Bridge)) The Commodore greeted them as they entered the bridge Taybrim: Thank you both for coming. Tito: We are at your service Commodore. Aristen: ? Giving a nod, he gestured to the mostly empty bridge. Taybrim: Both the bridge itself and the ready room can be locked down with a level 5 security field. Your choice. I trust who remains on the bridge to have the same clearances you do. Tito only noticed the helmsman so he nodded. Tito: Then we can put it in place on the bridge, some of the data I have been using are sensitive and better safe than sorry Aristen: ? The Commodore looked at Lieutenant Aristren for a moment longer. Tito wondered if he also had something about telepaths, but truth be told he was Betazoid so not one of his favourites either. His mind slipped back a second time as he let out one thought. oO Amateurs. Oo ((Flashback, Stardate 239010.17)) ((USS Lexington, Tito and Vetras quarters)) Vitor entered his quarters with three PADDs in hand. He knew Vetras would be upset, but he still had some “homework” to do. He was greeted by her voice that came from the couch. Vetras: Raise your shields. He couldn’t see her, most likely because she was curled down on it. And that was her safety warning. He shrugged and tossed away the PADDs at the work desk, slowly stepping inside. In his mind he began building a wall, something that he was used to by now. After all, they have been together for two years now. And expecting their first child. He smiled as he turned around the couch to face her. Vetras was curled in a blanket, filled with pink unicorns, something Vitor introduced her to, much to his regret. He bent over and kissed her forehead as he passed his hand gently by her extended belly. Tito: Is Paris giving you a hard time? Vetras didn’t reply. Not in words. He felt her thoughts reaching him. He felt the sadness at feeling useless, her unwillingness to keep up with the forced rest she was ordered. And her boredom. And her concerns over him and Paris. And how she felt ugly and fat and tired. All this in feelings, images, thoughts that could be his own. He smiled and only let one thing cross his mind. Love. Vetras smiled back and gesture in sign language for him to sit as she raised herself Vitor nodded and sat down. She curled around him, holding him tightly. Pulling her blanket she sighs. Vitor smiled, even if she was now over his lap and he could hardly move. He kissed the top of her head. Tito: You are the most beautiful pregnant Cairn in the Universe. Vetras again replied in his mind, and Vitor raised an eyebrow as he saw the Moba fruit. Tito: If you let me up I will replicate it for you. This time she spoke. Vetras: Not replicated, the real thing. And you stay. Tito: But then I can’t go and search for it. Vetras: You're the First Officer. Find a way. Tito raised an eyebrow, but he just shrugged. It wasn't the first time he had to deal with her cravings. He tapped his combadge to open a comline. If anyone had any Bajoran fruit it would be their Chief Science Officer. Tito: =/\= Tito to Lieutenant Kara Kara: =/\= Kara here, what can I do for you Commander? Tito: =/\= I need a favour, do you have by any chance some fresh Moba fruit? It’s for my wife Kara: =/\= I might. Tito felt Vetras embarrassing him in his mind. He felt her anticipation for the Moba fruit, and he was also starting to crave for it. But her hold was getting tighter. And hurtful Tito: You're squeezing me. Kara: =/\= Excuse me? Vitor rolled his eyes at the fact the comline was open. Tito:=/\= Vetras is sleeping on top of me. She is dreaming Kara: =/\= ::Laughing:: You should have picked a Bajoran wife. We only sneeze when pregnant. And that’s really cute. I will see what I have here. Tito:=/\= Thank you. Kara: =/\= But don't think you're not paying for this Commander. Vitor smiled and kissed the top of Vetras head. Tito: =/\= I know, just get it for me please. Tito out. As the comline closed he felt Vetras projecting the recollections of their wedding day in his mind. He held her more tightly and closed his eyes as they merged in thoughts. ((End flashback)) Tito returned the next second to the present. He realised the memories of the telepathic skills of Vetras confronted with those of the Commodore or the Lieutenant was just another excuse for him. An excuse to not work with them, not like them. But they were dealing with a group who would kill his daughter if she was alive now. A group that targeted human hybrids. So he fought to push back all the feelings and bitterness to get the work done. Taybrim: With the timing of the bomb placement and the checks upon departure from Outpost 411A, the saboteur was onboard upon launch from 411, and had to chance to disembark. Nor are there any indications on any scan that any sort of escape pod was launched. So whoever planted that bomb is still on board. Possibly several someones. Tito went on to a free console and raised the security, to the level the Commodore suggested. Tito: I concur. I have screened out a few on the list. ::He looked at Lieutenant Aristren.:: Although I might not have been as thorough as I thought. Do you wish to add anything Lieutenant? Aristen: ? Taybrim: Please, tell me what you have found. He pulled up the fifty passengers list and to its side the search result. Tito: So far I think these twenty eight are clear, from the remaining twenty two I found that these three have missing data. Aristen/Taybrim: ? He nodded and pulled up an enhanced image of each Tito: So besides the missing details, this one might be connected to Terra Prime. He flagged the one he meant and his picture pushed to the side as the search results appeared next to it Tito: I found a connection to a company that had a partner once that was TP. Aristen/Taybrim: ? TAG/TBC Lt. J. G. Vitor R.S.Tito Intelligence Officer Starbase 118 O238907VS0

So.... first of all, it's really great to have you back @Arturo Maxwell ❤️ I adore how well written this is, with a perfect build-up to the reveal of the prisoner. I also think I've never read of any character more in need of counselling than my girl Hatfield 🙃 ((Location: Somewhere at the edge of the Delroth System.)) ((Timestamp: Several Months Ago.)) Nova-class Surveyor; USS Meili. Nova-class Surveyor; USS Grand Canyon-B. Nova-class Surveyor; USS Ingvar. Horizon-class Research Science Vessel; USS Blue Horizon. Luna-class Explorer; USS Heliodora. Odyssey-class Explorer; USS Mayoko (Task Force Flag). Prometheus-class Heavy Cruiser; USS Traviel. Olympic-class Medical Vessel; USS Eugene Roe. Hatfield had watched as the vessels that made up the Starfleet formation listed in Fleet Traffic as TaskForce 288 had streaked away one after the other. Her own vessel was cloaked, powered down and drifting at sufficient distance to be undetectable to the Federation vessels as they departed the system. Satisfied that all had departed, she exited the bridge and made for the interrogation suite on the deck directly below her private chambers. Her stilettos clicked on the deck as she walked, echoed by the thumping footsteps of her two giant Gorn bodyguards. Officers and crew scrambled out of her way and saluted as she prowled the corridors to her destination. The doors hissed open and she stepped inside, casting her eyes over the half-naked and beaten prisoner that was shackled to a stained slab. At forty-five degrees the slab faced leftwards relative to the door, and the prisoner turned his head at her arrival. It was all he could move, shackled as he was at limbs, waist and throat. Prisoner: I'm guessing you're no the maid? His eyes were mismatched and he spoke with a delightful Scottish accent that in a different life would have turned her knees to jelly. A different life. One where she had enjoyed a glittering career and was damn good at her job. Hatfield: You are very observant. No, I am not the maid. The prisoner tried to flex his wrists a little to ease the discomfort of his restraints. She knew it was a fruitless exercise as her two interrogators were very thorough in their work. The two women were stood off to the side waiting with a trolley of fearsom implements sat between them. There was also a third member of the crew who held a recording device in his hands. Prisoner: Then who are you, and what do you want? She smiled. It was a cruel smile that chilled blood and shredded nerves. She rested her fists on her hips as she stood before the shackled man. Hatfield: I am Commander Vivienne Hatfield, and you are going to help me with something. You are going to help me orchestrate the death of Commodore Sal Taybrim. But first, you are going to help me shatter his spirit and heart entirely. His response was a wide-eyed stare. She smiled again. Her orders forbade her from killing the man herself, but the way she saw things that didn't extend to setting him up to be killed by someone else. Nor did it mean she couldn't tear him apart in other ways, nor inflict pain and death upon his senior officers. Her current scheme would be one such way. Prisoner: I will no! She laughed. It was a laugh full of sick humour, laced with a subtle tinge of restrained madness. Her emerald eye blazed as she pointed at her interrogators. Hatfield: Oh, but you shall. She stepped forwards, leaning over him so they were almost touching lips. Closing her eye, she took a deep breath before smiling and staring into his eyes. Her voice was a bare whisper. Hatfield: You see, I'm going to have you tortured. It will be slow, and agonising and you are going to pray for the release of your own death. I am going to record the entire process, and transmit it to starbase one eighteen for the viewing pleasure of that infuriating redhead. ::She paused, planting a soft yet fierce and lingering kiss upon the prisoners lips before standing upright again.:: Thank you for your assistance. She turned to face the crewman with the recorder, before nodding. Waiting a moment until signalled by the crewman, Hatfield crossed her arms. Hatfield: Commodore Sal Taybrim, I do hope you haven't forgotten me because I will never forget you. ::She turned her head slightly to emphasise the scarred side for a moment.:: I have a message for you. She stepped aside to reveal the shackled prisoner and beckoned to the interrogators. They stepped forwards, light glinting from the horrific tools of their trade. Hatfield smiled at the recorder, and as she turned to walk away her departing words were punctuated by near-maniacal laughter. Hatfield: Scream for me, Mr Maxwell. Scream! ~fin~ Commander Vivienne Hatfield. Former OC, USS Valeria. Former Fleet Liason, House Kravzo'ch. Simmed by; Henry Maxwell. Civilian. Starbase 118 Operations. O239311AM0

Thanks Sher ❤️

Warning: Do NOT google 'hairless tribble'

Heya, I am assuming we can post our story as non-compete if we're our ships' judge?

May I introduce to you... the Cardassian Nazgûl. His name is Gul Naz and he's awesome.

*sneaks in* MacKenzie: My talent is brain surgery. Unless one of you is volunteering to assist, then I’ll just be eating and observing this evening

I know someone who might wanna schedule an appointment with the ship's counselling staff Really well written though, loved it ❤️

Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau - We Can Still Call Them Bugs

Awh, thank you It was a pleasure to write and I never thought I would do research in foster kids. Knowing your connection to the topic, I appreciate you finding it worth the read ❤️

@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