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  1. Joke about Teller all you want, he really is an excellent XO. This conversation really resonated with me. ((XO's office, Deck 1, USS Thor)) Teller: And how do you see that sequence of events playing out if you get stabbed to death in a bar fight? Alieth: Inherently, you cannot be stabbed to death in a fistfight. Geoff's eyes narrowed slightly and his tone cooled a fraction. Teller: Hypothetically, Lieutenant. Say one of your playmates brought a knife along. Or both. You know how Klingons like their sharp objects. Geoff watched closely as she mulled it over, the small noises in the room amplified by the tension in the air. Alieth: In that case... poorly. For an instant, Teller heard the faintly musical laughter of his former CO. Geoff was entirely certain that Captain Rahman would've deeply enjoyed being a fly on the wall for this conversation. Teller: Lieutenant...the uniform that you're wearing...that we're all wearing. It means more than just a job or a career. It's a symbol, with a pedigree that goes back centuries, and it stands for values like compassion and tolerance. It stands for patience, and for empathy. In all four quadrants of this galaxy, these colors are synonymous with peaceful collaboration. And that's the uniform you were wearing while brawling in public. ::Geoff shook his head:: Is that how you want to demonstrate your respect for the uniform? Geoff leveled his gaze, from which Alieth quickly looked away. He took no pleasure in raking her over the coals, but this was an important part of his duties as sure as anything he'd done since coming aboard. Alieth shifted uncomfortably before replying. Alieth: I am uncertain about that, sir. Geoff scowled deeply. Teller: Well you had better get certain, Lieutenant, and soon, or you'll find your career options in Starfleet exceptionally limited. Alieth: It is not the first time that I have not lived up to expectations, neither in my time in Starfleet nor... outside it. Although I strive to overcome this circumstance, I may simply not be able to achieve the perfection that has been expected of me. What is, is. And maybe my ambition has blinded me from this very fact. :: She paused briefly:: As my mother often insists, I am inherently inadequate. Geoff blinked, caught flat by the unexpected insight into Alieth's mind. Even Sern, who had agreed to stay out of the matter, registered a deep shock at Alieth's words. Teller's posture finally relaxed and he slumped back in his chair as his anger mostly evaporated. Teller: Alieth...You couldn't be more wrong. This isn't about expectations, and it most certainly isn't about perfection. Long time ago, a very smart woman told me we all make mistakes. The trick was to learn from them. She felt I was someone who could. ::Geoff's attention had wandered as he reminisced but his eyes turned back towards Alieth, stern but sympathetic.:: And I feel the same way about you. Alieth: Response Teller: Now, your mistake wasn't getting into a drunken fistfight. That was A mistake, certainly, but it wasn't The Mistake. Any theories on what your mistake actually was? Geoff let the question hang in the air, allowing time for Alieth to ruminate. Alieth: Response Teller: Your mistake was listening to your mother and not to yourself. Geoff gave that a moment to settle before going on. Teller: Not a single being aboard this ship is perfect, Alieth, and I may as well be the President of that club. That doesn't make any of them inadequate any more than it makes you inadequate. Alieth: Response Teller: There's a saying some of our Marine colleagues like, and I'll admit it caught my ear - I think you could learn something from it. 'Perfect is the enemy of good.' It's a way of saying that chasing perfection can blind you to other options, other ways of succeeding. I think you're trapped in that thinking right now, Lieutenant...maybe you have been for a long time. That to be worthwhile at all, you have to be perfect. That's your mistake, Alieth. Alieth: Response Tags/TBC =============================== Commander Geoffrey Teller Executive Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 Commodore A. Kells, Commanding V239509GT0
  2. A crazy little idea made me start a light JP with @Ikaia Wong that has unleashed in this sample of talent and hilarity, and I can't help but appreciate the amount of skill and comedy that ravages every single line of it. I hope your CO won't catch you or, if does, at least have a good laugh at the expense of this before grounds you FOREVER XD.
  3. @Wes Greaves ALMOST makes me want to become a marine. Almost. 😉 I love seeing the slice of marine life in Starfleet! ((Marine Quarterdeck, Deck 9, USS Thor)) A smile crept across Wes’s face as he surveyed the abnormally cramped quarterdeck. From the doorway of his office, he had a perfect vantage point of the detachment assembling into the room. Every single Marine had been given their assignments, and non-commissioned officers barked commands while their staff non-commissioned officers watched in satisfaction. Even the pilots and mechanics were present. Looking to his left, the detachment’s Sergeant Major gave Wes a nod, which he returned. The action triggered more shouts and the nearly 80 assembled Marines began to disperse into the halls to make their way toward the turbolifts. All of the turbolifts. ((Main Corridor, Deck 3, USS Thor)) Simultaneously, every lift on the deck opened and unleashed a torrent of Marines in matching dark green running gear. With a smooth and practiced choreography 80 men and woman of various races sprinted into three columns, nearly 30 ranks long, at the aft end of the deck. At their head stood their detachment commander. Greaves: DETACHMENT, DOUBLE TIME. 80+ Voices: MARINE CORPS! At the same instant, 80 feet slammed into the deck as the Marines began to jog together. Science officers were forced to leap and dive out of the way in some cases as the train ran past. The sound of feet hitting the deck made for a rhythmic beat and after a few moments of running, a deep voice began calling cadence. Greaves: Loooooooooow, riiiiight, laaaayoooooo. 80+ Voices: Loooooooooow, riiiiight, laaaayoooooo In unison, the detachment sang out a parroted reply. Their voices shook the doors along the corridor. Many offices and work stations opened with a hiss, heads popping out of doors to see what was going on. Greaves: Mama told Johnny not to go downtown! After each sing-song cadence call, the detachment would return the same reply in their chorus of voices, punctuated by the beat of falling footfalls. Greaves: Marine Corps recruiter was hangin’ around! Greaves: Johnny went downtown anyway! Greaves: To see what the recruiter had to say! Greaves: Recruiter asked Johnny what he wanted to be! Greaves: Johnny said I really wanna be a Marine! Greaves: Johnny caught a trip to Duronis 2! Greaves: There he fought some people called the Romulans! Greaves: Killed a hundred men with his phaser and blade! Greaves: God only knows how many lives he saved! Greavess: Looooooooooo right laaaayyyyyoooooooooo! Greaves: Johnny was bold, and he was brave! Greaves: Johnny jumped on a photon grenade! Greaves: Saved the lives of the men he led! Greaves: But poor old johnny, he was dead! Greaves: Loooooooooow, riiiiight, laaaayoooooo. The snaking mass of bodies had run the entire length of the deck and halfway back down by the end of the cadence, and with a smile Wes let out a new command. Greaves: DETACHMENT, FALL OUT! 80+ Voices: OOOORAH! 80 men and women broke off in various directions, sprinting toward the turbolifts again, Wes in hot pursuit with smile still plastered on his face. ((Main Corridor, Deck 4, USS Thor)) With an impressive choreography the Marines stormed the next deck and reformed into the running formation. Their sing-song voices again resounding through the halls to the beat of their running footfalls. Greaves: Sec’rity, Sec’rity, I'm in doubt! Greaves: Why your belly’s sticking out! Greaves: Is it beer or is it wine! Greaves: Or is it the lack of PT time! Greaves: Singing lo right lay-o! Greaves: Lefty right lay-o! Greaves: Lo right lay-o! Greaves: Left in double time! Greaves: DETACHMENT, FALL OUT! 80+ Voices: OOOORAH! Once again, the mass of bodies broke off in every direction, some Marines now opening laughing as they ran to move on to the next deck. ((Marine Quarterdeck, Deck 9, USS Thor)) Two hours and 26 kilometers later, the Marine detachment completed their run, having shouted down every major corridor in the ship, and heckled every department aboard. Back at the quarterdeck, the Marines laughed, joked, and were otherwise in high spirits, despite the demanding workout. They had made a friendly jab toward the other departments, and it had brought the detachment closer together themselves. They were finally beginning to come out of the funk of the last several months and come together as a team. Wes smiled to himself once again before disappearing into his office. ========================= First Lieutenant Wes Greaves Marine Detachment Commander USS Thor - NCC 82607 E239702WG0 =========================
  4. This has been a fun scene to write and is a nice departure from the action/adventure and dark drama that's been looming over the Thor for the last couple of missions. Just a crew enjoying shore leave together. Amanda adds some really excellent narration to the already excellent writing by everyone else in the scene. Keep it up. I'm having fun with this one!
  5. And finally the last part of this little arch. It was wonderful to be able to read it and see the change unfolding little by little in front of all of us. I just want to mention that there may not be any tattoo parlors, but of course DS224 has tattoo artist Good job guys! @Addison MacKenzie @Genkos Adea @Geoffrey Teller
  6. @Ashley Yael is on a roll tonight. ((Denobula - The City of Loxt on the Uvax Continent - 22 years ago)) Ashley watched with huge amethyst eyes as his mother threw the few things they needed into the pack in a fervent rush. She made sure to pack her identification, all the vital information she would need… or for Ashley… her computer, credentials. He clutched his favorite toy, the interactive talking lemur he carried around everywhere he went… Feazel the Lemur. He’d been a huge hit with the children for years, ever since the children's holo-series had been released. Ashley: Mommy, where are we going? Doctor Yael: Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’re not going far. Ashley: Are you mad at daddy? She grimaced, and didn’t know how much to tell him. He was only seven and some months… would he be able to understand? Doctor: Yael: Yes, mommy’s mad at daddy. Ashley: Is it my fault? She set her blue eyes on her son, noting his wide-eyed, alarmed gaze. Swinging the pack over her shoulder, she made her way over to him and leaned down to lift him up into her arms, hugging him tight. Doctor Yael: No. No, *none* of this is your fault. It’s *my* fault, sweetie. She never should have stayed so long. It would have never gone this far if she had just left when she first thought she should. She carried her son out the door and made her way to the nearest public transporter. Doctor Yael: Hold on to Feazel, okay? Don’t let him go. Ashley wrapped the lemur in his arm tightly against his mothers neck, rustling her long blond waves. He didn’t understand what was happening, but even still, he could sense his mothers agitation… so naturally, he was afraid. Once the transporter had carried them close to where they needed to go, Doctor Lina Yael carried her son and the pack toward her destination. He was still small for his age, but she struggled under his weight as she rushed down the street. It was no run, but the walk was fast… if she didn’t cross the doorstep in time she might not be able to stop it happening. She arrived at the gate and stepped up to the processing window at the security shack, where a Human male sat at the computer, and looked up at her arrival. She offered him her identification without hesitation. Above their heads on the stone wall was a plaque. “Earth Embassy.” It was a branch offshoot, not the full embassy, but legally speaking it was Earth soil… which meant she would have the full protection and defense of Earth law. Security: Ma’am. What can I do for you. Doctor Yael: My name is Lina Yael, I’m a dual Denobulan-Earth citizen. I need legal assistance and safe lodging for myself and my son. The man began to process her request, checking her identification. The embassy was technically sovereign soil, as per their relationship and agreement with Denobula via their treaties. The information went through quickly and he was opening the gates when a private transport slid haphazardly into a parking space, the door popping open quickly. From the transport rose Deneve Phax, his eyebrow ridges furrowed in frustration. Doctor Deneve: LINA! What are you doing?! Doctor Yael: You’re NOT cutting into my son's brain. She pushed past the gate as soon as it was wide enough for her and Ashley to slip through, shoving the pack on her back awkwardly. When she crossed the threshold a wave of relief swept through her. Ashley nearly lost his hold on Feazel as it roughly brushed against the metal gate, but he held onto him with a tiny death grip born of fear, even as the mechanical speaker was activated by the pressure. Feazel: ::with pre-recorded cheer:: “Don’t eat my kidneys! I need those!” Doctor Deneve: It’s *just* a simple surgery! It could give him *years* free of the symptoms! Doctor Yael: A bilateral brain resection is *not* simple. That procedure has a 70% failure rate and causes just as many problems as it solves, Phax. You *knew” I wouldn’t consent to it, but you scheduled it anyway. WHY? Doctor Deneve: It’s what’s best for him. Doctor Yael: You wouldn’t know what was best for your son if it smacked you upside your bloated ego. You’re only thinking about *yourself.* You’re EMBARRASSED by him. Do you think your other wives don’t tell me what you say?! The Denobulan man angrily stepped up to the open gate only to have the Human guard step in front of him before he could pass it. Still, Lina took a defensive step back, her hold on her son tightening. She heard her son whimper near her ear, so she tried to ease her grip. Security: Sorry, sir. ::holding a hand up to stop him going further:: I can’t allow you to enter Earth Embassy grounds without the proper processing or legal representation. Deneve glared at the man, but stepped back, not wanting to cause an inter-species scene. But he still addressed his wife. Doctor Deneve: You’re being irrational. I have the right to handle basic medical care for my own son, Lina. Doctor Yael: You *don’t* have the right to *butcher* him. ::she glowered at him, the love she once felt for him clearly poisoned beyond repair:: I won’t let you do it. Doctor Deneve: This is *absurd.* ::trying to calm his tone and sound reasonable:: Just… come home. We’ll make dinner. We can *talk* about this. Doctor Yael: So you can badger me until I do what you want? Or pull him out of school and do it behind my back? NO, Phax. You’re not getting your way this time. Doctor Deneve: ::his patience disappearing:: It’s the right choice, damn it! He can be more *normal*, Lina. He can be symptom free for a decade longer! More normal. The blue eyed gaze she leveled on her husband was steely and ice cold. She turned on her heels as the security guard closed the gate, locking the Denobulan man outside and leaving him to watch his wife make fast feet toward the main facility. His son's amethyst eyes, filled with tears and wide with fright, set on him from across his mothers shoulder. He was silent in confused terror by his parents yelling, Feazel the Lemur still clutched tightly in his small hand. ************************ Doctor Deneve Phax Neurosurgeon & Father & Doctor Lina Yael General Surgeon & Mother & Ashley Deneve Yael Adorable Munchkin C238211TZ0
  7. I love how melodramatic and soap operaish @Alora DeVeau wrote her post. Simply incredible writing! 🤩 ((Temple of the Prophets – StarBase 118.)) DeVeau: Sal… I want to… Maxwell: Tae kiss him? Taybrim: I’m sure not… But she did. Why? She couldn’t say. Deep within, a great desire to do just that welled upon within her. More than that. She wanted to allow herself to be wrapped in his embrace, lost in his touch. To feel that again, someone’s arms around her, to be held, drawn so far into them that their warmth encompassed her, enveloped her, surrounded her. No, not just someone. Him. The Captain. Sal. Maxwell: ? Maxwell’s voice finally started to seep through the haze that had surrounded her, but her thoughts continued to drift to other things, desires that welled up within. They weren’t just desires, however, not just physical wants that pressed hard against her, pressured her to draw into his presence, to act upon that visceral and carnal hunger. Accompanying it was more, an emotion that she had thought perished and withered. Taybrim: Wait what? ::he shook his head, letting the astonishment filter in.:: Me? Maxwell: ? Did he know? How could he not? His abilities gave him far more insight than most, and her own feelings were so palpable, surely even the least astute could see how she felt. Yet, Alora’s mind could only barely perceive that she felt as what it was, tried to deny the state in which she suddenly found herself. Alora turned, ripping her eyes off of the man. She fought against that state which she found herself falling deeper into as she looked up him. Yet looking away did nothing to alleviate it. Alora found herself wrestling with it, trying to deny, but unable to. She was in love with Sal Taybrim. Taybrim: No, no… you are very attractive and yes the atmosphere is very conducive to it and… Maxwell: ? And? And? She wasn’t supposed to love the captain. She wasn’t supposed to love anyone else. It wasn’t right. That dark face flashed through her eyes, his smile so brilliant when it was genuine. It had been - for her. How could she love anyone else? Maxwell: ? Taybrim: ::Openly, earnestly, no matter how strange it sounded.:: I don’t think about it. ::he shrugged:: Ever… not since … ::He trailed off.:: But his voice. That sweet timbre, the flowing musicality of each word he spoke drew her out of the tunnel she’d entered. As her verdant eyes opened and returned to rest upon him, his light shone through the darkness, piercing it, unwilling to allow the shadows to keep their grip. Once more, Alora found herself staring, attempting to memorise every part of his aspect. She licked her lips, a word finally managing to make itself known. DeVeau: Since? It was a bare whisper, a request for him to speak more, so she could continue to get lost in those words, soothed by that voice. Maxwell: ? Taybrim: Oh ::he waved a hand dismissively.:: I was betrothed once. She’s crazy. Maxwell: ? He’d been hurt? Was that what he was saying? She was crazy? If he’d once had a betrothed and nothing had come of it, how could he not have pain from that? Yet, Alora couldn’t focus on those things. Maybe she was the crazy one? Warm. She was so very warm. Alora tried to close her eyes to the images before, to the man that still stood in front of her, his lilting tones rising and following over his words. The music of his voice poured into her, drawing her closer. Maxwell/Taybrim: ? That chasm that had stretched wide, once so insurmountable, now was barely a crack in the ground. Alora crossed it, drawn by the bewitching presence of the man so adored by those under his care. She touched him again, a gentle hand upon his face, fingers stroking his cheek. DeVeau: She must have been crazy, to give you up... Maxwell/Taybrim: ? Deep within that darkness began to stir, roused by the closeness of the man. For a moment, she hesitated, her gentle caress growing still. The drum inside her pounded louder, harder, distracting her from the wraith that writhed deep within, trying to come to the forefront. It rumbled deep below, finding itself confined in chains, tugging against them. Yet she couldn’t fall into its trap, couldn’t listen to its growled warning. Before her was a man, his light far too bright to allow the darkness to consume it, and that light called to her. She had resisted, but now she could no longer do so. Falling into the call of her heart, Alora leaned forward to draw him into a kiss. Maxwell/Taybrim: ? Her breath quickened as she pulled away, the shadows driven to irritation within her. Eyes wide she took a step back. What had she done? The world seemed to close in on her and her arms crossed over her chest, as if warding off the impending consequences of the actions she’d taken. What was going on? What was wrong with her? Her head spun and she stumbled further back, then turned, the mind that had once been so focused on giving in now suddenly screaming at her to leave, to get away from the trap she’d fallen into. Maxwell/Taybrim: ? -- Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau Science Officer Starbase 118 Ops M239008AD0
  8. This hit home. ((Denobula - The City of Loxt on the Uvax Continent - 22 years ago)) The hospital thrived with activity, doctors and nurses abounding, students tagging along with their mentors like so many Denobulan turtle-ducks. The teaching hospital was the largest and one of the most esteemed in the Southern Continent, and was thus never “slow.” Patients from across the quadrant came to this hospital not just for the quality of treatment they would receive, but to be a part of the constant array of clinical trials and new drug testing that occurred year round. On the 56th level of the hospital was the neurology clinic. The two large bay doors opened into the ward directly from the four crystal clear elevators, each in a clear tube with a spectacular view of the tropical environment preserved despite there being a bustling city. The greenery and nature was a Denobulan necessity… nature provided the foundation for most of their scientific advancements, and thus they respected it… lived with it, rather than cementing the lot of it. Instead, they built *upwards.* One could be pestered by the famous Denobulan lemur in the arrival lot, or even on the roof of the extremely tall building, as the exterior was also prime climbing, with effort taken by the architects to include natures needs in the designs. Patients inside the building could witness an array of small warm-blooded animals climbing past the windows or launching off the bird sills from inside their rooms. Meanwhile, all the creature comforts you could want were included inside. Denobula was so tropical, in fact, that for the very longest time there was no concept of frozen water in their scientific records. It didn’t exist naturally on Denobula, and the discovery of it only happened after refrigeration technology was created. Nestled between three lovely stars in the system, the night on Denobula lasted a scant 3 hours… save for a single day per year where the stars eclipsed and total darkness fell for the full period of a single rotation. The short night cycle might explain why Denobulans needed little more than 4 hours sleep per rotation, and supplemented it with a hibernation cycle. But on that 56th level of the tapered skyscraper, the interior was clean and white, the smell of sterilizing cleanser the only remarkable scent. Neurology patients were ushered to their appointments as they arrived by those four large elevators, into the private offices. One of those offices belonged to Doctor Deneve Phax, lead neurological specialist for the ward and a renowned surgeon who was sought out for the most complicated of cases. He was in the middle of a massive clinical trial and the next several weeks would be filled with data searching patient reactions, as well as monitoring progress of the double-blind groups… the active agent, the placebo, and the control group. The clear elevator to the far left opened and a small purple haired Denobulan-Human hybrid burst into the room and past the reception desk. Ashley: ::waving:: Hi Miss Mat’ea! Nurse Mat’ea: ::smiling at the familiar child:: Hello, Ashley. Did you get taller again? Ashley: I’m two whole centimeters taller since last time! Nurse Mat’ea: Are you sure it isn’t three? The small child pushed at the large door into the workplace, barely able to move it by himself. In reality he was small for his age, but the nurse would never say so out loud. She used one hand high above his head to help him open the door, while letting Ashley think he’d done it himself. Lagging behind the energetic seven year old was a blond Human woman, his mother. A surgeon and general practitioner in her own right, they were on the search for her husband. Nurse Mat’ea: ::smiling and nodding respectfully:: Doctor Yael. Good to see you. Lina smiled at the woman as she followed through the doorway into the workplace, following her son. He knew the way to the office space, so there was little reason to slow him down. She could hear his voice from the hallway before she arrived in the right office. Ashley: Dad! Guess how many lemurs I saw today! Doctor Deneve: I imagine it’s a lot to justify this much *noise*. The bland response didn’t diminish the child's excitement. Ashley: Seventeen lemurs! A single eyebrow rose, the harsh tone lightening up ever so slightly. Doctor Deneve: That *is* a lot of lemur. Doctor Yael: ::stepping inside the office:: Hello sweetie. Deneve nodded to his wife, having expected her to not be far behind their son. Doctor Yael: We’ve hardly seen you this week. Ashley missed you. Ashley: Daddy can I cut out a brain pleeeeeeaase? His father snorted with a well contained edge of humor, while his mother laughed lightly. Doctor Yael: He wants to be *just* like you, you know. Ashley: I’ve studied *lots!* I know what a thasalmus is now. Doctor Deneve: ::with a hint of a smile, then dryly:: Alas, none of my patients need their *thalamus* removed today. Ashley busied himself looking through the texts on a nearby shelf, but only the ones on the shelf he could reach of course. Doctor Deneve: Don’t make a mess. Lina frowned at her husband. She knew he wouldn’t be happy to be interrupted, but in truth it had been two weeks since the man had spent a spare moment at home. Denobulans were notoriously patient when it came to this sort of thing, this was true. But *she* was Human and her son half so, and they *missed* him. Deneve knew this full well, but it no longer seemed to register as something that was important… even though it had used to. In fact, she was starting to question the whole marriage. She was still trying to make it work for the sake of her son… the son the Denobulan man seemed less than interested in. She’d never imagined he would be such a *gruff* father, or so absent. Denobulans were so family oriented, after all. She’d heard the gossip in the rest of the family. Deneve’s second wife had had a frank conversation with Lina about the things he would tell her… the Denobulan woman was concerned, so shared out of that concern. She’d told Lina that he was increasingly annoyed at his Human wife’s lack of interest in having more children yet. But it was how he treated his *existing* son that stopped her doing so… she also knew what he’d said about Ashley. That their son was a genetic dead end. And she was having trouble reconciling her feelings for the man, more so every day... and if she were to have more children, there was a statistically relevant risk they would also have Theoron's Disorder. Could she have more children knowing the man wouldn't bond with them if they weren't perfect? She could feel the hypospray in her pocket. The one filled with the daily required medication her son had to take. It was handy to keep on person, in case of a worsening day or an accident that caused a surge in symptoms, but thankfully he was mostly symptom free… he’d been medicated since he was diagnosed in utero. The hypo-spray was a cruel but realistic representation of her sons limitations in life, but he was still too young to understand what it really meant… so she carried the weight for him, wanting him to have as much of an innocent childhood as she could supply for him. She never failed to smile at how many lemurs he counted through the windows. At how excited he was about *everything* he saw. At how proud he was when he learned what a “thasalmus” was. And it pained her every time he cried because he missed his father. Or told her he wanted to be just like daddy and help people's brains get better. Still, she tried to facilitate the strong familial connection, and pushed for them to spend time together. If Deneve could just take a moment and *see* his son, imagine for just a moment who he could grow to be, maybe it could still work... Because she could see the unfortunate failures where her innocent son could only see love and joy. And she was starting to wonder what Ashley would think of the frozen mountains of her home back on Earth, the glaciers and wildlife of Alaska. It was a place you either loved or hated… and it was a vast departure from the tropics of Denobula. Ashley pulled a large text off the shelf, having some trouble with the weight of the tomb before plopping down onto the floor and rifling through the book for interesting pictures. Doctor Yael: I know how *busy* you are, dear. But I hoped you could spare time for lunch with your son. Doctor Deneve: I can’t. Large amethyst eyes looked up from a book illustration of the Denobulan spinal cord. Ashley: Mommy, I’m really hungry. Doctor Yael: I know, sweetie. We’re getting lunch soon. ::pausing:: Please, Phax? The sauted lemur kidney at the cafe on the corner is to die for, and I know you haven’t had a non-replicated meal in weeks. The same lemurs climbing the walls of the hospital also happened to be a delicacy. Another reason to bolster a healthy population, as Denobulans were largely carnivorous in nature. Doctor Deneve: Hmm… ::he paused, finally tempted:: Fine. But just a quick lunch. The family stepped out of the office area and toward the crystal clear lift doors. The small purple tinted boy lifted a hand to take the hem of his fathers coat, his other hand clasped in his mothers fingers. He was ecstatic his father was coming. Ashley: Can I have lemur kidneys too? Doctor Yael: Oh? How many lemur kidneys do you think you can eat? Ashley: I can eat *five!* Doctor Yael: ::feigning shock:: Five?! That’s almost three whole lemurs worth of kidneys! Doctor Deneve: ::glancing down:: Isn’t that a rather *adult* meal for him? Doctor Yael: It’s a special treat. He’s been looking forward to seeing you. The small Denobulan-Human hybrid tugged on his fathers coat, huge amethyst eyes gazing up at the much taller Denobulan. Ashley: Daddy? How many lemur kidneys can *you* eat? Inwardly, Lina hoped Phax knew not to say any more than five, since her son would try and force them down until he matched any number his father said. Doctor Deneve: I think I might top out at four myself. Small favors, Ashley’s mother sighed in relief, smiling as they walked out into the heat. Nobody wanted a food-sickened seven year old barfing up hot lemur kidneys everywhere. ************************ Doctor Deneve Phax Neurosurgeon & Father & Doctor Lina Yael General Surgeon & Mother & Ashley Deneve Yael Adorable Munchkin C238211TZ0
  9. As our community has evolved so to have the relationships between players across ships, and I've been delighted to watch the friendship evolve between these two writers both on the page and off. Oh, and speaking from my perspective aboard the Thor - Alieth's new bodyart is 100% accurate. Great work! And now there's going to be so much groundskeeping.
  10. A collection of sims which close out our latest mission, and I'm extremely pleased of how the endgame and climax turned out for certain characters. We do have some fantastic writing here. Super well done to new crew member @Alvarez who smashed it out of the park first time, and my personal thanks to @Quentin Collins III for writing such a marvelously diabolical Captain Eru Ghant. Her legacy will haunt us. Captain Eru Ghant - The Black Dance: Overture - https://groups.google.com/g/sb118-arrow/c/UrJkQ4fhI5E Ensign Maria Alvarez - The Black Dance: Allegro - https://groups.google.com/g/sb118-arrow/c/LXv1z0t5_uA Captain Eru Ghant - The Black Dance: Accelerando - https://groups.google.com/g/sb118-arrow/c/TsET8zySjY4 Ensign Maria Alvarez - The Black Dance: Scherzo - https://groups.google.com/g/sb118-arrow/c/qmCvNibTG18 Lt.jg Regan Wilde - The Black Dance: Crescendo - https://groups.google.com/g/sb118-arrow/c/HMXotefay_8 Lt. Artinus Serinus - The Black Dance: Cutting In - https://groups.google.com/g/sb118-arrow/c/zch3-ZyCwf4 Ensign Maria Alvarez - The Black Dance: Lento - https://groups.google.com/g/sb118-arrow/c/5-MHxdmimXY Ensign Maria Alvarez - The Black Dance - Presto Calamitosa - https://groups.google.com/g/sb118-arrow/c/9j92poAeu4U Captain Eru Ghant - Darkness, Her Arms Stretched Wide (Or; Offer from the Black) - https://groups.google.com/g/sb118-arrow/c/R1HglerGDqg
  11. Just sharing this fantastic furtherance of utter chaos. I had to pass on @Amuro McKnight's quick thinking for everyone to enjoy. The twists and turns in this are one of the many reasons I love collaborative writing here. (( Corridor, Tibro IV Headquarters )) As the group advanced to Lephi's position, Amuro can see the damage was extensive over here as well. He continued to scan as they walked. Mei’konda: What’ve you got, Lieutenant? With everyone scanning the room, they all see the strange readings. Raga: Can’t say I’ve ever seen the tricorder act up like this. Lephi: Captain, you have perfect timing ::rubs the back of her head:: There is a strange box underneath this bunk and it is emanating very strange signals. The Caitian captain let out a wry chuckle. Mei’konda: My apologies, Lieutenant. A maanufactured object of some type? Almost everyone was checking their tricorders now, corroborating the situation. Amuro crouched down to look under the bunk for the box and shined a line from his bracer. Strin: McKnight: Well strange is a pretty vague thing to say...but oddly accurate. What is it? Lephi: It definitely was manufactured, and although I haven't determined its purpose yet, I saw a cloaked figure escaping in the shadows as I approached so it seems safe to say it isn't a pleasant gift. When he heard cloaked person, Amuro immediate tried to change up his scanning. There's only a few ways to detect an invisible person. His dad taught him some from the War. If this cloak is similar to the Dominion, cloaking someone doesn't mean he's not a ghost, he still would interact with the environment around him, just invisible. So Amuro tried to emit things from his bracer so it would bounce off objects in the room. Thankfully, it didn't come back to him with an extra echo. Strin: McKnight: The invisible man is the last thing we need right now. Amuro got back up and made sure the room was cleared. If there indeed was a cloaked person in the room, he's gone now but do the locals have this sort of technology. Raga: A cloaked figure? ::He looked back to Strin and Dels’an:: It seems you might have more disloyal personnel than we thought. Or there’s a third party inciting things. Lephi: I didn't see much of him, regrettably. Well of course...he was invisible, thought Amuro with a grin on his face. Mei’konda: Untiil we can perform a more thorough analysis of this device or fiind the person who planted it, anything else is pure speculation. Catching the Captain’s intent he nodded and kept watch over the others, casting his gaze out to the corridor outside on occasion. Strin: McKnight: We should get a team down here and carefully - He was interrupted as the engineer was already jumping ahead to grab the box. Lephi: Captain, I've found the source of the confusion ::pause:: sort of… There was a brief pause and the engineer ducked back under the bunk. Lephi: The device seems to have been electrochemically coated with something that our sensors can't detect. Strin, could you provide some insight here? Strin: Response Mei’konda: Looks to me that we miight’ve discovered the source of the traansporter interference, as well. It’s emitting non-ionizing radiaation on a wavelength that could interfere with beaming. Lieutenant Snow, Mr. McKnight, could you please verify that this thing is saafe to handle? Amuro wanted to roll his eyes. They didn't know what this thing is and Lephi just picked it up brazenly without any thought of caution. He tried to scan the box directly but it wasn't working. Snow: We can try, Sir. ::standing up:: McKnight: Whatever this thing is made up, I can't penetrate it with my scanner. We need to open it. Captain Delano nodded. Mei’konda: Continue your initial analysis, then. I’ll be just outsiide. The Captain walked passed her and out into the hallway and tapped his combadge so Toryn stood in the middle of the room. Mei’konda: =/\= Mei’konda to Chin’toka. =/\= Snow joined Amuro and Lephi in examining the box. Amuro was trying to be cautious and rather they aren't so close to a box of unknown purpose. Then his bracer picked up something. Raga: Does anyone else hear that? McKnight: I hear it, Raga. Lephi, the box! He backed away from Lephi, who was still holding the box. Lephi/Strin/Mei’konda: Responses Snow: Perhaps you should put it down.. ::Concerned:: Raga: Everyone, back away from the box. Now! Lephi/Strin/Mei’konda: Responses Amuro was about to run away as Snow grabbed his arm. He managed to at least put himself in between her and whatever was coming before a shockwave blasted them all back. Because they were so close, both him and Snow were sent flying. Thankfully, they did not go far as Raga managed to grab them both as he regain his footing and grounded himself but it wasn't enough and they all fell over together in a pile and then began to slide back from the force. Toryn cried out briefly in pain before the wind was knocked out of him and slumped to the ground. By the door, gripping Amuro and Snow tightly, though his grip on Lephi had slipped when his arm dislocated. Raga: Ahh! ::His breathing hyperventilated as he sought to find his breath that had been stolen from him:: Amuro, using all his strength, managed to steady everyone together. Lephi/Strin/Mei’konda/Snow/Dels’an: Responses With the shockwave stopped, Amruo got up slowly as he managed looked to see his bracer's emergency beacon had activated when it detected the danger and that he was unconscious for a few seconds, hence why it turned on and alerted the Chin'toka. McKnight: Toryn...you broken? Raga: Forget..ah..my arm, is everyone okay? Amuro shook his head to clear the dizziness from the shockwave. He was only thinking about getting up and making sure the area is secured. Whatever this thing is, they need to get away from it or get rid of it. Lephi//Strin/Mei’konda/Snow/Dels’an: Responses Raga: Whatever you’re going to do...Ungh! ::He grunted and his breath shuddered a moment:: Do it fast..that box is humming now. Lephi/Strin/Mei’konda/Snow/Dels’an: Responses Amuro crawled towards the box and managed to get to it. The moment he did, he took his commbadge and slapped it onto the box. McKnight: =/\= Chin'toka, McKnight. Lock onto my commbadge and beam it somewhere far away from us. We've encountered a device. It might be another bomb. =/\= Chin'toka:
  12. There are no two without a three and as such this JP SHOULD be here. Mainly because of this: This is it, more than enough Jokes aside, as I always say, it is wonderful to witness the evolution of the characters, how an arch is built in front of our eyes and how it renders them real and credible, even more so if they leave us with little bits of details from previous adventures, from different times, other vessels, which give us a sense of a solid and deep story, of a continuity and inner lore that leaves us wanting to know more and wondering how many sickbays have lost their ceiling. Furthermore, these three goofballs have a knack for humour and at the same time the ability to narrate technically in an enviable fashion, in a style that flows naturally and is a delight to read. Great work, as usual. I have the last part still hot in my inbox and I'm CRAVING to read it. Kudos again for @Addison MacKenzie @Genkos Adea & @Geoffrey Teller
  13. OOC: Here's a real tear jerker by @Chloe Waters A study on the effects of battle from the perspective of a confused and frightened pet/service animal. Enjoy. IC: ((Chloe's Quarters, Deck 3 -- U.S.S Arrow)) Snore. Snore. Snore. Mandy lay there, curled up on Chloe's resting surface. Her head lay on that soft rectangular thing Chloe seemed to rest her own head on, enjoying the scent of her owner being so close. Chloe wasn't here, so this was the closest she could get to her human. Her paws were curled against her body while the canine slept, perfectly content to keep this space warm for her master until she returned. Then things began to happen. There was a violent shaking which pulled Mandy from her slumber. She began to shake in fear almost immediately. This wasn't the first time this had happened, and whenever it did, she could smell things. Terrible things. Burning things. As if her food had been prepared for far, far too long. But that wasn't the worst of it. The worst part was that infernal, never ending blaring noise. Loud, frequent, and tonally dull, it always accompanied the shaking around her. Mandy rolled onto her stomach and turned herself around. Her master always insisted on covering herself in fabrics, and Mandy never understood the reason why. At least,,, until now. Except she didn't use them for quite the same purpose Chloe seemed to. Pressing her head forward, the canine managed to get the movable fabrics on Chloe's resting surface over her ears. She shimmied forward until the fabrics covered her completely, some of the noises around her being blocked. The canine whimpered. Pressing her head forward, the canine managed to get the movable fabrics on Chloe's resting surface over her ears. She shimmied forward until the fabrics covered her completely, some of the noises around her being blocked. The canine whimpered. Mandy: Why are you never here at these times, master? Why does the room shake so? Make it stop... make it stop. Please... Despite her pleas, the shaking didn't stop. The shrill, painful tone didn't stop. Mandy continued whimpering and trembling, begging the universe to put an end to this infernal nightmare. Despite her pleas, the shaking didn't stop. The shrill, painful tone didn't stop. Mandy continued whimpering and trembling, begging the universe to put an end to this infernal nightmare. After some time, there was no shaking. The piercing tone continued its rude intrusions into Mandy's thoughts, but there was no more shaking. In time, Mandy was able to still her canine form. She felt herself beginning to drift off once more, sounds beginning to slip further and further away from her. As Mandy met sleep once more she had one, final wish. Mandy: oO Come back to me, master. I miss my human... Oo NT Mandy Golden Retriever owned by Chloe Waters Simmed by ************************************************************************************* Lieutenant JG Chloe Waters Helmswoman USS Arrow, NCC-69829 ****************************** Podcast team member ****************************** Writer ID: E239601CW0 *************************************************************************************
  14. Another great JP, this time from Lox and Fortune! They're just so goddamn sweet, like eating a stick of fairy floss and following it down with a 4L bottle of soda. Enjoy! ----- ((Holosuite 2, Embassy Garden Hotel, Yarista, Palanon, Tyrellion system)) A gentle summer-night breeze ruffled the curtains by the open veranda, bringing with it that scent of warm rain that follows a storm. Inside the room was dark and intimate. Rows of plush red velvet chairs facing a flat screen which took up one entire wall. In the front row, chairs had been supplanted by a single large comfy sofa in the same velvet. Corliss Fortune was already curled up amidst the cushions as Lox joined her, giant cartons of toasty popcorn fresh from the replicator balanced on a tray in one hand. Loxley: Snacks? I’m not exactly a popcorn fan but some things are traditional. Fortune: Now, popcorn is a new one to me. ::but the curling plumes of smoke had caught her interest, and the warmth of the box radiating towards her hands felt nice.:: What’s it like? Loxley: It basically has the texture of cardboard. But if you cover it in salt and butter, it tastes like salty butter and cardboard. Fortune: Mm, sounds rather unappetizing, but people like it, yes? So it has to be delicious. Lox flopped down on the oversized sofa and tucked one leg under him, leaning his shoulder against hers. He gestured to the flat screen with his popcorn box. Corliss took one as well, curling her body around it to inhale the warmth that was pulsing from it. Loxley: So, what are we watching? Roman Holiday? Maltese Falcon? Something scary? Fortune: I’ve heard great things about Roman Holiday, and something called Bringing Up Baby. Loxley: I know the name of that one but not much else. My vintage Earth film knowledge comes from my mother. Is it just about child rearing? Fortune: Rather that the Baby in question is a large Terran Leopard. I’m not certain how one raises such a creature, however. Are they like Toto? Loxley: As in the little dog from Wizard of Oz? Not so much, no. ::he smiled:: Dorothy would have had a much easier time of things in Toto had been a leopard. Fortune: Could watch one after another, ‘s not like we don’t have time. ::she playfully nudged her leg against his, settling back with their shoulders touching once more.:: Could nearly watch the world away in how warm and cozy it is in here, hm? Loxley: Now that sounds like an excellent plan to me, Lieutenant Fortune. And, yeah, I like this room. I might ask for a copy of the holoprogram. Fortune: Sounds like a plan to me! The already dim lights turned a little dimmer still and the screen lit up with an eerie glow in the gloom. A moment later and grainy black and white images of Rome, four hundred years ago, cast a flickering light around the room. Lox frowned briefly at the actress onscreen - she looked familiar somehow. He shrugged, probably just one of those things. Loxley: Recovered from your athletic endeavors yet? Fortune: Slowly but steadily, I can still feel a little knot in my back, I swear. Loxley: Well, if there’s anything I need to rub better, let me know. ::he waggled his pointed eyebrows suggestively in a way only Vulcans could. Or at least half-Vulcans. A full Vulcan probably wouldn’t waggle anything suggestively if it could be avoided.:: Fortune: ::she cracked up in a laugh, gently nudging him with a bright grin.:: I may very well take you up on that, so long as you let me give back just the same. Loxley: Seems fair. Fortune: I know a few interesting hand massages from an old roommate. She tended to use a stylus to write upon a PADD. I do applaud her efforts, but she’d had to get a brace from writing so much later on. ::she wiggled her own hands in a jazzy manner.:: She let me borrow the paper showing how to do the massages so we could learn, no achy wrists! Loxley: Stylus? Wow, old school. I applaud her efforts. That said, some instructions would be useful. My medical education doesn’t really extend much past the basics of physiotherapy. Which basically means I can prescribe exercises for patients to ignore. Fortune: There’s something to be said for the old school, and I’m sure I can find the old file to send to you, eh? ::the movie caught her attention and she gasped, squirming closer and crossing her legs up into the seat.:: Oooh look at that! The black and white movie created stark shadows as Loxley turned to look at Corliss. Her face was half in shadow, half in light. The popcorn carton lay forgotten next to him as he slipped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her gently on the forehead. She blinked, giving him a confused smile. Loxley: Thank you. For being you. Fortune: Hm? You’re welcome? ::she chuckled, pecking a kiss to his nose in return.:: What’s all this about then? Loxley: I mean… I don’t know what it is exactly, but when I’m around you I just feel so… comfortable? That’s the best word I can think of. I don’t know if it’s an empathic thing or what. Fortune: Hmm, could be. Could be an us thing too?
  15. @Addison MacKenzie @Geoffrey Teller @Genkos Adea you know, the lack of peg legs is dissapoing! Jokes aside, i've had this sim on hold till i've had some quiet minutes to appreciate It as It deserved, and oh boy it's a ride. This gang KNOWS how to write comedy and the flow between the characters is just perfect! Eager to catch up the last part!
  16. Do you know the best thing about pranking another writer's character? Having him follow it. That he incorporates it into his character's day-to-day life, even in a serious circumstance, and that he is capable of putting a light sim into the general narrative of the ship with elegance and humour. If on top of that the poor victim is our ill-treated captain... what more can I ask for? I think the gamma quadrant still has reserves of G1TT3RB0MB, skipper. I'm just warning you @Tony, aka Kells
  17. I really enjoyed reading this little side story, and I hope we see more of Dehner Base in the future! ----- ((Shuttlecraft M'Dank, Tyrellian System)) Jona ch’Ranni was dead bored. There was no other way to express the intensity of what he felt sitting in the pilot’s chair of the Type 2 shuttlecraft. An empty starfield was splashed across the [...]pit windows. Dabbles of starlight - so often the source of poetry for anonymous writers spread among countless worlds – taunted the normally good-natured Andorian. It wasn’t the stars at fault themselves. In fact, he hadn’t met a star he didn’t like. Except for Betelgeuse - it was a jerk. It was the tedious and menial work of waiting for a rendezvous with a supply freighter that had Jona on the wrong end of the joviality wagon. For the hundredth time, his thin cornflower-blue fingers tapped out the activation sequence on the control panel that would initiate a refresh of the sensor data. Jona sighed heavily and wondered who he had angered on the ship to pull such an assignment. No doubt the rest of his shipmates were laughing and clinking glasses with each other on the beach. They would regale him with the exquisite foods and picturesque scenery he had missed out on. ch'Ranni: Well, they can just stow it. The lanky Andorian stretched his arms above his head, working the kinks from his lower back and repositioning his frame in the seat. He ran his hands down his face, rubbing his palms into his tired eyes and tried to shake the weariness from his brain. He tapped the key sequence on the panel again – for the hundred and first time – and the gods answered his unspoken prayers. A ship. ch'Ranni: Computer, put the approaching vessel on screen. The computer focused on a sleek Bolian freighter that exited warp, leaving a trail of luminescent super-excited particles in its wake. It bore down on the tiny shuttle like an unsuspecting insect. Jona came from a race of aliens that counted insects among their evolutionary progenitors, and so, he found the analogy a little on the nose. Nevertheless, the arrival was expected … even if a bit delayed. ch'Ranni: Shuttlecraft M'Dank to Bolian freighter. Welcome. Lieutenant ch’Ranni, here. Ready to receive the supplies. With any luck, Jona could be on his way back to the ship within the hour. He might even make it back in time for the springball tournament scheduled for 1800 hours. A small lopsided grin crossed his face as things suddenly didn’t seem so bad. The viewscreen activated and the face on the screen made his heart leap into his throat. The azure skin and pale, curly locks of the woman were etched in his memory. It had been years since he had last seen her. Time had been kind to her and now she was more beautiful than even his rose-colored memory allowed. The scientist with the impish smile that he had fallen head over heels for at Dehner Base was the last person he expected to see again – especially with how they had ended things. zh'Lev: Hello, Jona. It’s good to see you. ch'Ranni: Vexa. The one word was all he could croak out before the air left his lungs with the cheap shot that reality delivered to his gut. After a few seconds Jona realized that he was not breathing and consciously inhaled again. What would it look like if he fainted at the sight of his former girlfriend? ch'Ranni: Why are you here? Apparently, he was now able to form complete sentences, which was a marked improvement. The Andorian girl sat back in her chair, the curls of snow white hair framing her face and bouncing in response to her movement. Her ice blue eyes seemed to search the screen, piercing straight through his shields and searing the hull of his heart. Her antennae bobbed forward as her voice took on a pleading tone. zh'Lev: Jojo, I need your help. ch'Ranni: Of course, what can I do? The words were spoken without hesitation. Both knew that Jona would be unable to refuse whatever she asked. When they had parted ways, it was as if his heart had been shredded by a dull knife. After his reassignment far from the Sagittarius Reach, they had tried for months in a vain attempt to make things work. But they had drifted apart in the ocean of time and space. At the end, he had made a renewed attempt to solidify their relationship only to find that she had moved on. Jona’s face flushed a darker shade of blue as the pent-up feelings came crashing back on him. He truly missed her and now would do whatever she required, if only to get her back into his life in some small way. His heart swelled as he realized she had tracked him across the quadrant. It could mean only that she had realized the error of her ways. They could regain what they had lost and rekindle the spark they had shared together. zh'Lev: I need you to kill someone.
  18. ((‘The Junction’, deck 223, Deep Space 224. The Borderlands)) The petite Vulcan doctor breathed lightly on the surface of her drink before she took a tentative sip. The thick, hot drink burst into a sugary explosion in her mouth, and then descended down her throat, warming her up like the sun of her home planet. Of course, the drink was not only comforting, but had the quality of altering the Vulcan biochemistry, which suited her after the LONG road she had needed to travel to reach the Borderlands’... border. Arguably, in the canteens at the top decks, primarily staffed by Starfleet personnel and Federation civilians, her drinking choices would have raised a few eyebrows. But down there, in a secluded corner of the lower decks, the Klingon waiter attending to the tables didn't bat an eyelid. And much less the patrons, an amalgam of unruly civilians who were largely minding their own business. Or they just slept it off in a corner, too plastered to care about anything. Alieth tucked into the dark hood that obscured her features and settled down for a second shot when a whistle distracted her. The smudged and rusty pub door swung open, and revealed an old familiar face that she had not seen for a long time. Alieth: Meimei! Sirin: Alieth ::smirking slightly:: I see you have found yet another unique place for us to meet. Alieth: I know you are fond of interesting places, therefore I have just provided you the most fascinating place that I have found. The statement was delivered in a flat, pragmatic tone, still there was a mischievous gleam in the young Vulcan's eyes and the tiniest sketch of a smile danced for an instant on her lips. Meidra nodded to the waiter, muttering her drink order in Klingon. If he was surprised, he said nothing, only growling in response before going to get her beverage. She sat across the table from her cousin, and gave the usual Vulcan greeting, and received the usual response. Sirin: It has been too long, krei. Tell me, how is life on the Thor? Are you keeping everyone logical? Alieth: Indeed just too long. And about the Thor’s crew... ::Shaking her hand gently:: It is an unachievable endeavour, most of them are just a hopeless case. Amusement flared in the counselor’s eyes as she well understood her cousin’s wry humor. She took a long drink from her flask, pondering if she could convince the waiter to refill it for her before she and her favorite krei went exploring. She put in back into a pocket and patiently waited for her actual drink to arrive. Meanwhile, the doctor took a brief sip of her drink before she answered, her eyebrows knitted over her eyes. Alieth: Otherwise things on the Thor have been reasonably calm. We took part in a coup d'état, prevented an ecological disaster and only the Captain was about to lose his life because of a hitman. Compared with our previous missions, the ship has no extra holes and, aside from Fleet Captain Kells, most of the crew is in good condition. A truly uneventful mission for Starfleet. A few months ago her answer would have been vastly different, as a connoisseur of quiet and routine as she was. Nevertheless, routine seemed to have taken on unexpected forms since she had graduated from the Academy. And she had embraced it. It was a disturbing realization. Alieth: So how was everything at the Resolution? We spoke briefly at your previous shoreleave, yet I have heard hardly anything from you since then. Meidra: This shore leave has been different from the last. I did go to a holodeck, but this time it was not to fight my grandfather’s image. I was invited to participate in a ::searching for right words:: a mystery solving game. It was entertaining. She told her cousin how Ensign Yalu had created a dead body for her amusement, and the two shared a grin. The waiter flung down her drink with an appropriate insult which Meidra matched as she slammed her fist on the table. After a moment, both she and the waiter laughed, and he gave Meidra a swift salute before leaving to serve other patrons. Alieth: That is a novelty, were you able to perform an autopsy on the victim's body? ::Alieth became silent for a short while before she answered herself. :: You know, just do not tell me and send me the program, I am sure Mister Greaves will appreciate it too. Alieth: What about your last mission? According to what I heard you were in a diplomatically delicate situation. Sirin: We were asked to intervene between a peace loving society and the Klingons. Thankfully, no blood was spilled. To be honest, I do not believe the Klingons assigned to the mission truly wanted to be there. It was most confusing in a way. ::smiles:: although our First Officer certainly put them in their place. The tiny Vulcan took another quick sip of her cocoa and leaned forward, resting elbows on her knees. The short motion prompted a maverick lock of hair slipped out of her tight ponytail, which Alieth wasted no time placing it back behind one of her pointy ears. Sirin: I have a slight appreciation for Klingons after seeing them again on our latest mission. They have a fascinating way of twisting logic to serve their agenda. ::Looks around:: I had thought you would have brought your ….what are you calling him again? Your BFF? The one trapped in a human male? The Vulcan woman almost choked on her drink as a green shade rose to her cheeks and dyed the tips of her ears. Alieth: As much as I would have appreciated the chance to introduce you to my closest friend Sern, making so bringing here that troublemaker human in whom he currently resides would have been a highly... improper situation to say the least. :: An image of her ginger superior officer flashed into her mind and Alieth hastened to take another swig to hide the expressions that crept up her face. Alieth: No, that would be actually a TERRIBLE idea. What about you? Last time we talked I thought you said you were interested in establishing a close relationship with someone, a human male? How they call it… ‘Dating him’ The small counselor rolled her eyes. Dating, for lack of a better word, was not something Meidra did. She’d had a few intense encounters before joining StarFleet, but they weren’t the type of men (or women) she’d bring to a family dinner. Aeson was a distraction from admitting that she felt something for another officer. She would never admit who it was, maybe not even to herself. She would admit to a certain loneliness at times. But she didn’t need to say it out loud. Alieth’s expression told her that much. Sirin: I’m not sure what I have to offer anyone. Hey, ni’hin person, um...jabwl’, waiter person. Another bloodwine. Then a Vulcan brandy chaser. Alieth: Another cocoa for me, black, without sugar, 50ºC. Once the burly Klingon had taken their orders (mumbling something about Vulcans who thought they knew his job better than he did), Alieth looked back to her relative's eyes. Her hieratic expression had somehow softened and her eyes gazed warmly at Meidra. Alieth: You know you have a lot to share with a bondmate Meidra, even if you try hard to hide it. You carry the best traits of our family after all. Alieth's gaze glistened with mischief a split second before she added. Alieth: This is quite an achievement for an overly emotional hybrid like yourself, if you ask me. Sirin: Yes, you make it sound logical. ::sighing:: I have not eaten since morning meal. Chasing ghosts works up an appetite. Even if they are holograms. ::looks at Alieth:: after dinner we should walk around a bit and see what this station has to offer. It’s rare to see you, we should strive to create pleasant memories. Meidra knew her tolerance for alcohol was far more than most of the clientele here. But she was a bit hungry. The Klingon waiter came back to get their food order, and place their next round of drinks on the table. Alieth: ::With a slightly tipsy voice:: All right, let's toast and have an end meal later and let find what this station has to offer us. Sirin: An appropriate plan of action, krei The minute Vulcan raised her mug, such that a few drops of thick, black liquid fell on the table. She remained in that position for a moment, while her brain struggled to find something appropriate to say Alieth: For the old friendships and those that we are building, for those we met and those we will eventually meet. And that wherever our paths take us, we will always find refuge from the sandstorms in each other. [[TBC]] OOC: krei → (vulcan) female relative descended from siblings of parents or earlier line of descent ni’hin → (Vulcan) bar, pub jabwl’ →(Vulcan) waiter ================================= Lt. JG Alieth Medical Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 Author ID number: E239702A10 Image Collective Co-Facilitator Trainee ================================= & Ensign Meidra Sirin Counseling Officer USS Resolution R239707MS0
  19. OOC: I really relished the opportunity to see more of Prudence Blackwell - and of course, Ashley. ((Starbase 118 Ops - Habitat Ring)) Ashley was making his way to the Consumer Sector for some socializing in his off time. He’d changed out of his uniform and into something sporty. Black leggings, trainers with a white slash on the sides, and a stylishly washed out gunmetal grey v-neck t-shirt with three-quarter sleeves. One didn’t need to dress to the hilt to visit Verriars Bar, after all, and it was getting somewhat late. He expected the Tongo Wheel would be spinning loud by now. Stepping onto the turbolift, he turned to face the doorway as it closed and clasped his hands behind him, as he was prone to do. Yael: Consumer District. Verriars. The electro-stabilizing gloves he wore were no longer hidden… he would normally wear full sleeves, self-consciously, but he was getting better about not worrying about it as he got used to wearing them. The turbolift stopped not far along to allow another rider on, and he momentarily set his amethyst eyes on the person who entered the lift. Rue was dressed for relaxation, frivolity, and entirely unprofessionally - but at the same point, she was still modest. She wore a long skirt made of a soft fabric, with pockets - a utility that Rue refused to go without, soft flat shoes and a long sleeved shirt. Blackwell::Rue had done some shopping herself. She didn’t attempt to accumulate material goods as a habit - but she did like meaningful things. Trinkets. And she liked to see what the different districts would bring as potential momentos from different cultures. Treasures and the like. She had found a few items - a new shawl for wearing when she was off duty, and a necklace, that she carried in a bag. She stepped into the lift and gave a genial grin:: Hello, there. Thanks for holding the lift” Yael: Good evening, Lieutenant. No problem. The Denobulan hybrid nodded politely and smiled that oh-so-cheerfull Denobulan smile at the Human who stepped onto the turbolift, and stepped slightly aside for her to board comfortably. He didn’t recognize her, but had the passing thought that the cropped haircut she sported was very flattering… and she was *shorter* than him! Almost nobody was, so he definitely noticed when they were. Blackwell: ::She smiled to the Denoulan with a bright smile herself. Rue ws intensely used to being shorter than just about everyone, and so she didn’t note the surprise he had. She did offer a warm hand to him:: I’m Prudence Blackwell, and you are? He didn’t reach out his hand, avoiding the contact, though his smile remained. He was about to politely explain he doesn't shake hands, give her his name, when the lift started to move again to take them each to their destination in the closest order, and there was a moment of quiet among the occupants as they waited. But it was only a moment… the lights flickered. Ashley glanced upward instinctively to look at the lights, but there was a sudden jerk. He was thrown to his left… or rather, the lift jerked to the right… throwing him right into the Human next to him, and into the wall. As they chatted, Rue was quietly aware of an nearly indistinct shift in the lift. She was sensitive to the rhythms and the workings of both space station and the ship. However, she had nary a chance to comment on something being strange when the lights blinked, and then all was a heave to the right, the left, and then she was on the floor of the lift with a Denublian in her lap. She gasped a bit, eyes wide as she looked to Ashley, her brow furrowed in stew of confusion, worry, concern, and some embarrassment, sprinkled with relief that she was able to break his fall. And then she heard a creak. And her mouth opened. Then the lift plummeted. It fell just long enough to put them into the air and allow them to free-fall before the safeties slammed into gear, stopping the lift from falling any further, at which point they unceremoniously crashed onto the floor. The Denobulan cursed beneath his breath as he caught his breath and found himself sprawled on the floor, rather ungracefully and atop the Lieutenant. His midsection draped across hers, his arm draped across her arm... and he jerked away as quickly as he realized they were in direct contact, but the anxiety that the lift wasn’t stable took precedence. He pushed up onto his palms and his amethyst eyes shot to the Human in the lift, hoping she wasn’t injured. He thought he was alright, but that had been quite the sudden ride. As Inertia floated them above the floor, Rue had the brief thought that it was not the drop that was frightening - it was that sudden stop at the end. And in this case, as physics combined in a hilarious fashion to bring the floor to them rather than they go to the floor. And there was a thud. Oh. Rue had promised herself no injuries on this shore leave, and it seemed that was a promise she was going to break - but at least it was not her ribs, which were instead, from what she could tell, bruised. She barely noticed Yael moving quickly away to avoid the awkwardness of draping himself over her, sitting up and rubbing her ribs. Yael: Are you okay? Blackwell: I am, are you? That’s not a normal function of the lift, I assure you of that. ::She frowned and stood up, wishing she had her PADD with her. Instead, she would have to make due with a bit of wits and intuition. She stood up, offering her hand to help him up as well, and looked towards the panel.::: Yael: Perhaps… we should notify someone. Blackwell::She rubbed her side and grinned:: Likely, but in the mean time let me see if I can figure out what is happening. Do you want to comm someone while I look? ::she moved over to the panel, taking her hands off her side::: Of course, the computer would already be alerting the proper persons of the malfunction. These things did happen on such a large station. It was as Rue touched the panel that she was suddenly aware her hands were shaking. She wasn’t normally so...easy to startle, but the adrenaline was up. Her body was simply responding to that. She shook her head, took a breath, and opened the panel. And then... The lights suddenly flicked off, and they were plunged now into the darkness. Thankfully an emergency light blinked to life a few moments after… but not before Ashley cringed, having expected another drop to happen. Blackwell:::Her heart was pounding in her cheat, a hard beat that was in her ears. She took a deep breath, pressing her hand on the wall of the lift and closing her eyes, her back towards Yael:: Seems like...we are okay. Yael: Thankfully… it seems to be holding steady, for the moment. Though he had a firm grip on the wall just in case… not that it would guarantee their safety, but he felt more stable as his eyes adjusted quickly to the low light. Blackwell: Yeah ::She exhaled and turned, looking to Ashley and gave a half grin:: What is your name? I’m afraid I didn’t catch it in the plummeting. Yael: Ensign Counselor Yael. ::pausing:: Ashley. Blackwell: It is nice to meet you, Ashley ::She offered a hand to shake. It was there she noticed the gloves, and momentarily hoped that she had not walked right into a gaffe:: Yael: It’s okay… ::he tried to smile through the nerves::... I don’t shake hands. Nothing personal, I promise. Blackwell:: I think I managed to bruise a rib or two..nothing worrisome. ::She then took a moment to consider the lift:: But this should not have happened, and we should have had a contact by now. Yael: Are you an engineer? ::noticing now her attention to the panel:: Perhaps we could notify them directly. Blackwell:::She considered for a moment. Turbolifts worked through the power of alternating electrical currents that allowed the lift itself to ascend and descend. It could break if power was out, if there was a breech in the lines, faults in the channels carrying the currents - there were numerous possibilities. And what was frustrating was that likely the fault was - external- rather than internal to the lift:: Which meant barring her doing something reckless, they were for the moment, stuck. Blackwell::She hit her comm badge and frowned for a moment as the chirp did not seem to connect. Another clue, and another frustration. Something was jamming the signal. It could very well be the disruption in the current. She exhaled and looked to Yael:: We may be here for a while… Yael: ::trying his comm badge, which chirped strangely:: I certainly hope this isn’t a *systemic* problem. We could be in here for a while if it’s not just the lift. Can you... try anything from the panel? Blackwell: Well - ::She turned and looked back to the panel for a moment. She did not have her PADD, but she did have her tricorder - she rarely left without that. She pulled it out of the pocket of her skirt and scanned the controls, just to see if there was any disruption with the lift itself. She swallowed as her suspicions were confirmed:: I think I know what is happening. Yael: And that is? ::curiously, framed by the red emergency light:: Blackwell: The lift seems fine - I think the problem is with the shaft itself. The question is - how extensive is the problem ::she gave a faint grimace:: The Denobulan gave her a concerned smile now, noting her less than enthusiastic expression and tone. Yael: … I’m afraid I’m less than technically apt… what do you mean? Blackwell: Meaning - we know that above us was a rather rough go….below could be as bad if the disruption is widespread. Yael: So… we stay put then. They’ll notice the malfunction soon enough. He was trying to console them both with the knowledge they couldn’t be lost or stuck somewhere for *too* long without it being noticed. Then he tried not to laugh, though he did chuckle lightly. Yael: I… don’t suppose you were in a *hurry* to get anywhere? Blackwell:::She rubbed her ribs for a moment and exhaled:: Weeellllll... Yael: Because if you were, *those* plans are canceled. A small joke in the face of their unexpected incarceration in the dead lift. Blackwell: Yeah….::She shook her head and put her hands up:: I guess for now...we get comfortable. ::She smiled, and leaned against the wall of the turbo lift::: Yael: Your ribs are okay? I kind of… well, *landed* on you. Quite rude of me. Blackwell: I wasn’t aware you could control inertia with propriety ::She softly chuckled:: But no, I’m all right. Just a bit banged up. Yael: I recently broke a couple ribs, it’s not something I wish on anyone. Blackwell:::she rubbed her hands together and nodded quietly:: I have had that too, and not eager to repeat it. But I am all right. What about you? ::She smiled back:: Where were you going before this...happened? Yael: I was heading to Verriar’s. The tongo wheel was calling to me. ::pausing:: It will still be there when we’re freed. There was that Denobulan patience at work. He leaned back against the wall now, less gripping it and more relaxing against it, confidence growing they wouldn’t fall again now that the safeties had caught them. Blackwell: That is true. I suppose if nothing else, we can call this an unplanned meet and greet. Yael: ::smiling:: If you wanted my attention, I offer walk-in hours. Blackwell::She chuckled and moved to sit down across from him, knees bent. She stretched out her arms and rested her elbows on her knees:: So - we haven’t met before, are you a new arrival? Yael: I’ve been here a couple weeks now. I was stationed here years ago though, so it already feels familiar to me. ::pausing:: And yourself? Ashley took to mimicking her posture, sliding his back down the wall and crossing his legs beneath him to sit, though he kept his back against the wall when he did. Blackwell: Been here for a bit but still..::She moved her head back and forth a bit:: Adjusting. I came here after a bit of a personal life change and so...been shifting gears from that. ::She grinned a bit:: So tell me what made you join StarFleet, Counselor. Yael: Oh, the same old story. Kid looks up at the stars and asks, “what’s out there?” I love being out here in deep space. ::pausing:: I like being one of the first to see what’s newly discovered. Blackwell:::She smiled softly to that, linking her fingers together:: I can’t say I felt any different. For me there was a family element..more or less to get out, adventure, experience things that you just can’t planetside. Yael: It also conveniently puts a few billion AU between me and my father. That one was more a joke, mostly, despite being true. But who couldn’t relate to having a somewhat oppressive parent one wanted to escape from? Blackwell:::She raised a brow to that and chuckled:: That’s also a common story. And while I get along with my mother and most of my family, it is nice to have some distance ::She smiled to that, if a bit vague, and picked at thread on her skirt::: Yael: You mentioned a personal life change? That it was giving you trouble? Blackwell:::There was a glance from her skirt and to his face, and back again, and chuckled faintly:: Ah, Counselor - eager to listen? Yael: Hey, it’s what counselors do. We listen. *If* you’d like to talk. Perhaps I could help you adjust. Blackwell: It’s not really that interesting… :her shoulders rose and then fell slowly:: Yael: Is there something holding you back? Something you miss where you came from? Blackwell: My father died ::She finally said succinctly::: Yael: Oh… ::pausing:: I’m sorry. Blackwell: No, it’s alright ::She smiled and exhaled slowly:: It has been a while since he died and while I miss him...it hurts differently now. Yael: What do you mean? Blackwell: I suppose it’s more …:she rubbed her hands together, and quietly popped the knuckles of her right hand:: It’s less of a sharp pang and more of a dull ache that comes and goes. I can forget about it during work, or when I’m busy. ::and a sort of wane smile:: And comes back when I start thinking about calling my family. Yael: ::his smile was softer:: I see. You sound like you were close to your father. Blackwell: We were very close. My father was in many ways my rock...not a hero persay...but he just always had an affable way of convincing me...that as strange as the universe is, it all fits together. Yael: It does seem to have a strange way of working itself out, doesn’t it? ::nodding:: She pushed her hair from her face and looked down for a moment. Her father had seen the universe as a discordant but glorious symphony - countless instruments and voices all adding into a sublime arrangement that resonated through every single person and being. Even though he never left planet side, and was largely taken with his near obsessive study of strange antiquities, there were also moments that he would widen his gaze to reflect on the fact that beyond the world, there were other worlds and lives happening. He found it endlessly fascinating to look at older works, prior to when First Contact occurred, and to wonder how humans kept their hopes alive even when they thought they were alone. And to him, the answer was simple - they knew instinctively they were not, and it was just a matter of the first meeting happening. He was strange like that. Strange and wonderful. And Rue missed that. Blackwell: He just tended to think that..no matter how complex the picture, how complex the work, even if it was madness or chaotic, there was always some unifying thread….so to speak. ::Then she laughed:: Then again, he also did think that ketchup could go on just about everything. Yael: ::laughing lightly:: Clearly a mad-man. ::pausing:: Ketchup is the *red* sauce, correct? Blackwell: Terran Condiment - comprised of tomatoes, salt, vinegar, a few other things - and not normally what one would suggest for deserts. ::she grimaced and laughed:: So ….how about you? Why a starbase? Yael: It’s the most intriguing collection of types of people. Which makes my job as a psychologist that much more interesting. It’s a whole different kind of world, far from home. She knew why she had chosen a starbase - her urge to be in strange unfamiliar places on a constant basis had waned after her father’s death. She felt herself strangely needing an anchor point for her life. The starbase for now, was that. Blackwell: Well, it - is- different. Certainly you're far from home, but you are also at the same point, we have sort of a static arrangement. Literally, we are a home base. Yael: For so many different sorts. ::he nodded in agreement:: The lights flickered slightly, but the lift held steady. It was as if the lift was reminding them of their precarious position. Ashley tapped his comm badge once more but got the same delayed chirp, a failure to connect. Incredibly odd to say the least. Rue exhaled in an empathetic sense of frustration. What - was- taking the engineers of the station so long to look into what was happening, and more importantly solve it. Yael was very pleasant to talk with, but somehow spending the rest of their careers in the turbo lift not what she had in mind. Yael: Though I imagine you wish you were elsewhere… I’m glad I’m not in here alone He was realizing how close that had been near to happening. It wasn’t as if being alone for a few minutes would kill him, but he was already feeling properly trapped in the small space. She turned to him and smiled gently, but her brow started to furrow in concern. Blackwell: Why is that? Yael: Denobulans don’t do very well in isolation. I suppose the station is great for those purposes as well, there’s never a lack of people to meet, things to do, events to attend. I never feel lonely here. Blackwell: Well, that’s true - I mean we are always surrounded by people unless we are in your quarters ::She considered that quietly, though privately considered that at times one could feel lonely even surrounded, but she turned her thoughts to the Denobian, listening as he spoke:: Yael: When I first arrived they tried to assign me to these sprawling quarters. Two extra rooms, separate kitchen. Far too much space for just a place to sleep. I talked them down to a studio economy suite with a view of one of the docking pylons. They can give the larger space to a family that needs it. Blackwell:::She chuckled:: Practical, but also sweet and thoughtful. ::a quick grin to that:: . My own quarters are ...comfortable. Living area is practical, but in my bedroom, I hung tapestries and lights to try and create...I guess a sense of privacy and safety. ::She smiled a bit to that:: Yael: ::as if asking for more, but smiling at the thought:: Tapestries? Blackwell: I like to feel a bit like I’m…::She shrugged a little bit for a moment and looked sheepish:: Like a kid’s fort I suppose ::She wasn’t sure if he would know the reference. Did Denobian’s make pillow forts?::: Yael: ::now he chuckled at the vision building in his mind:: A kid’s fort? Inside your bedroom? Weren’t kids forts made of wood and put up into trees? Perhaps he was thinking of the wrong Human custom. Blackwell: Oh well, Blankets and such over chairs, just a place to hide. Just a place to escape my parents or my brother as a kid ::She laughed:: I suppose it’s a bit silly. But Harmless. Yael: Ahhh, I see. ::he chuckled lightly now that he was getting the idea:: I suppose I could compare my bed. A ridiculous number of pillows and blankets… Denobulans can tend to *nest in*. It’s good to indulge in a little frivolous comfort, I think. Blackwell:: I think we always need time for a bit of frivolity and just being silly. It is what keeps us sane. ::She grinned:: I’ve even known a vulcan prone to a bit of frivolity. He would read salacious novels with me. Yael: A Vulcan reading salacious novels? Now *that* I’d pay latinum to see. Blackwell: There can be a lot to learn from pursuits that have quote un quote no purpose ::She grinned:: and even better, you learn it without realizing it and without feeling like it’s work. That was the truth. She could reflect on a few points where she had taken time out just to relax, just to do something that was utterly ridiculous, and ended up gaining something she hadn’t expected from the experience. Memories or a knowledge that just could not be planned for. Ashley was finding he quite enjoyed Lieutenant Blackwell’s company. In fact she seemed to be a bit of fresh air… stuck in the turbolift, they needed all the fresh air they could get. Yael: All we need is a campfire and some snacks. No weather, so we don’t need a tent. Blackwell: That would get their attention ::she exhaled:: the campfire at least ...when the sensors went off ::she chuckled and looked to Yael:: I do like camping though. I don’t get to go often. Yael: Perhaps you could join me sometime? At Verriars, if you’re into the bar scene or tongo, or on the holodeck? I have a feeling we’d have enormous fun. Blackwell: Why not ::a warm smile on her lips and she looked up:: Though for that to happen...we are going to need to get out of here. ::And then she stopped, as she heard a thump on the top of the lift:: ….Let’s hope that is good news? The Denobulan hybrid glanced up toward the roof at the sound, and a bit of relief ran through him. Yael: Sounds like there’s someone above us. Blackwell: They have specialized devices to come out on the lifts and do routine repairs ::she considered and exhaled, wishing there was a way to see on the top:: Yael: How do we know it’s a crew? ::he glanced at her with a grin:: Maybe it’s a turbolift monster. A “gremlin on the wing,” isn’t it? Blackwell: Well...If we listen closely ::She pressed her ear against the wall and closed her eyes, focusing, and then smiled:: ...Sounds like something is working. We - may- be in luck. Which is good because I was about to take matters into my own hands…::she grinned wide:: Yael: How so? I would think the most we could do from in here is *yell* very loudly into the nether. Blackwell: Climb to the top of the lift and see if I could get a repair done on my own ::she winked:: But you won’t have to see me do derring do just right now. Yael: You’d climb on top of a broken lift, from inside it? ::he chuckled lightly:: That’s a pretty bold thing to do. Blackwell: Oh I can be pretty...bold when I put my mind to it ::She laughed softly and shrugged:: I - try- to keep it limited to when it’s absolutely necessary but only when I’m at risk or there is no other option….hence why I’ve been really patient. Yael: Starfleet does attract bold personalities. And that would be better than being in here alone. Blackwell::She gave a mischievous smirk to that:: If It was just me in here, I would have likely climbed to the top of this thing to see what I could fix on my own. ...So in a way, good thing you were here too as you kept me out of trouble. Yael: ::with a bit of humor:: I do apologize for making you hold back. Your way sounds like a *lot* more fun. There was a sudden shift to the weight of the lift, and his hands shot out to brace against the wall and floor… but it didn’t drop or move violently. More, it was shifted, then began to move ever so slowly. She laughed to that and then binked as the lift began to move again, and she braced herself against the wall...and then as it moved, looked to Yael. Yael: I think we’ve been hoisted. Blackwell: I think so….about time. There was another sudden shift in the position of the lift as it slowly moved. Then a mechanical sound began to whine. There was a chirp… their comm badges both activated, and a voice soon came across the line. Engineer: =/\= Who have we got in there? =/\= Yael: ::responding with relief:: =/\= Lieutenant Blackwell and Ensign Yael. =/\= Engineer: =/\= Anyone need a doctor? =/\= Blackwell: =/\= No, thankfully not. =/\= Engineer: ::clearly glad there were no injuries, then, with humor:: =/\= When I said I wanted to go fishing this week, this *isn’t* what I planned. We’ll have you out in a few… bringing you down to the next level nice and easy. Stand clear of the door. =/\= Blackwell:::She looked to Yael and smirked:: Well glad they are getting to have a laugh.:::and then to the comm:: =/\= something go on with communications? We couldn’t reach anyone =/\= Ashley was already sitting near one of the sides, across from the Lieutenant, so he tucked his legs in a little closer, keeping amethyst eyes on the door as the mechanical sound intensified. Engineer: =/\= Yeah, comms went down for a few minutes. Computer malfunction during a routine system refurbishment. Bad timing with the lift. Sorry ‘bout that. =/\= Blackwell: =/\= Well, I’m just glad we are getting it resolved...though I hope you can find point of error to avoid this in the future =/\= She sounded cheerful though Yael could see her quietly working through what she might write on a report. Yael: =/\= How far did we drop? =/\= Engineer: =/\= About seventeen decks, before the safeties kicked in. Bet it was a fun ride. =/\= Yael: ::to Blackwell:: Something like that. Blackwell:::she smirked:: Oh absolutely. And after time, there was finally a nice hum where the lift moved to the appropriate floor, and both Ensign and Lieutenant were free of their temporary confinement, on to go about their ways:: Yael: ::as they parted:: It was nice plummeting to my doom with you. Blackwell: Let’s do it again sometime! ::and she waved cheerfully and was on her way:: ************************ Lt. Prudence Blackwell Comm/Ops Starbase 118 OPS G239308PB & Ensign Ashley Yael Counselor Starbase 118 Ops C238211TZ0
  20. I have said it many times: it is wonderful to witness how characters who have had a personal development for a long time interact with each other. Plus, the fact that they have the sass and charm that @Addison MacKenzieMackenzie and @Geoffrey Teller have together adds a lot to the mix. And if they also include an (unknown to me until now IC) incredible talented @Genkos Adea in the mix they create an explosive and hilarious combo. Furthermore, I have ALWAYS said that I love writers who dare to deal with the consequences of their characters' actions in missions and drag them through time to tell us about their consequences and how they deal with it, which is a good example in this case, not only with Genkos' leg, but how you pull strings from various missions and characters along at least 4 different ships. DELICIOUS. A spectacular work, guys, and very funny to read. Just a small correction, BOSS: it's not lover is BFF! 😝
  21. A feast of a JP from the Thor's junior officers! 😍 An imaginative scene full of mischief and good humour - it's great to see the characters off shift ... getting up to no good! Cannot wait for this to play out. "Pranking The Brass" ((Captain’s Ready Room, Deck 1, USS Thor)) Peri was going to owe Cassie big time. Although she’d already traded shifts with her once, this was going to cost her more, and Cassie wasn’t the type to forget it. At least she had found some humour in the plan, and seemed willing to help them out, for which Peri was grateful. The question was, were they going to get caught? And if they did, what would happen? The young ensign tried really, really hard not to think about that. At least Cassie was willing to make sure they got access to the Ready Room, though how Peri didn’t know. She probably didn’t want to know. All that she knew was that they’d be able to get in and take care of what they wanted to take care of. Alieth had been there when Peri had thought of it, but she had also asked Wes if he would come along. The more hands they had, the faster they would go, which meant they would be less likely to get caught. Making her way through the halls, Peri clutched the bag which contained everything they would need, though she couldn’t help but glance around. It was the middle of the night, so most of the people were just night shifters, but...could they tell? Did they know she was up to no good? Oh shards, she hoped not. As she approached the office, she saw two other familiar forms arrive at the same time. Peri managed a brief if nervous smile. One more glance was given, then, after making sure no one who wasn’t in the know was around, she turned and stepped up to the doors of the ready room. Like magic, they parted. With a squeak, Peri darted in, motioning for her accessories to hurry in with her so they wouldn’t be seen in the hall. When the doors closed behind them, she sighed. Katsim: Computer. Lights. Immediately, they turned on, and Peri set the bag on a chair and unzipped it. Katsim: Um. Alieth...could you stand at the door and...you know, maybe listen? Just in case? Or would it be better to be outside? Vulcans had superior hearing, so she knew Alieth would be able to listen through, but would it be better to see? Could Alieth somehow provide cover for them if she were outside? Peri was definitely not cut out for Intelligence. Alieth: I think it is better that I stay here if I must act as a watchman :: Tilting her head :: If I stand in the middle of the corridor in front of the captain's office, arms crossed, I guess it would be mildly suspicious. Her tone, of course, was solemn and circumspect, yet as she settled down by the door, one of her pointed ears pressed against the wall to listen to the corridor's shenanigans, she glanced sideways at Wes, a glint in her eye. All that prank fuss was proving to be massively entertaining. Inside the bag were a ton of streamers and other supplies that Peri had replicated. She’d used up a week’s allotment for them, but hopefully it would be worth it. Offering a roll to Wes, she pointed to the desk. From the bag, she also retrieved a PADD. During the planning, she realised that it was likely any PADD of the captain’s would be securely locked, so she took one of the standard PADDS that wasn’t associated with a specific person. The message had been set, now they had to implement the plan. Katsim: Wes, if you could help me attach the streamers. I’ll get the PADD on the ceiling. That was a feat only achievable by the mere fact that the desk was tall enough that if Peri climbed on it, she could actually touch the ceiling. Wes leaned against the bulkhead near the door and crossed his arms. With a smile and a shake of the head, he watched the Ensign work. Greaves: Not a chance. I’m just here to observe, and maybe offer some constructive criticism. This is all your prank. Alieth moved her face away from the wall briefly to glance at her friend, who was displaying his best smug face and his keen skill at standing idle without making a move. A very vulcan skill, as far as she was concerned. Katsim: Oh. The poor ensign's response only made the Vulcan woman strive to remain circumspect. Neither she nor Wes were making it easy for Alieth. Peri had thought that when he said he’d come that he’d be willing to help. She hadn’t realised….quickly she ducked her head, a blush lightly brushing across her cheeks as she climbed upon the desk to work on tacking the PADD onto the ceiling. Wes glanced toward Alieth, and their eyes met. He knew that she was a touch telepath, but sometimes he could swear that she could read thoughts without that pesky requirement. Alieth: Since the primary purpose of the JOPA is to assist junior officers, it might not be unreasonable to help her. :: bowing her head and narrowing her eyes somewhat :: furthermore I reckon that the Ensign has aimed high enough with her prank to receive the help of those long arms of yours And maybe after that and just for the Marine's eyes she stuck out her tongue. But just a little. And just quite quickly. Greaves: (Laughing) Alright, alright. You’re right. It’s a pretty ballsy plan anyway. Let’s get it over with. A sense of relief washed over Peri. The more people working, the faster they finished, the less likely they were to get caught. That was the last thing she wanted to happen - especially for Alieth and Wes. Grabbing one end of the streamers, Wes stood on a chair near the wall and connected it to the wall. As he turned to reinforce the connection, his foot nearly slipped as the seat rocked. Peri glanced over at Wes as he began to work with the streamers. The little nodes they would attach had been something Peri had thought of later. With Cassie’s help, she’d gotten them synced up with the message. Once the PADD was taken down, the message would play, the nodes would explode and send confetti and glitter throughout the entire room. The whole place would turn into a rainbow of glittering colours. The Vulcan stood by the wall again and observed them carrying out their tasks, doing what she knew best: being a perfectionist. Alieth: It is a touch crooked in the middle. Four and a half degrees to be exact. As she said this, the two officers on the table leaned dangerously, in a more than unstable balance on one of the edges of the desk. Katsim: Be careful… Greaves: I’m fine. Alieth, help me out with the other side of these things. Peri, are you almost done with that padd? Alieth: Of course The doctor left her position of watchman by the wall for a while, but before joining the group on the desk, she took a small detour towards the door to lock it. Of course, anyone with a higher security clearance level than her (therefore, any senior officer) could override her lock and open the door, but that little protection would save them from most prying eyes. Katsim: I’m done. Carefully, Peri climbed down from her perch on the desk and grabbed another roll of streamers from the bag. The satiny, red material shone slightly under the lights. Taking a second box of tacky stuff with which she would attach it, she pushed the captain’s chair over to the far corner opposite of Wes and climbed up, starting on that part. Katsim: Don’t forget to twist them… That made the streamers a little prettier, and it would help them determine how far apart to set the nodes. Carefully, she attached the end of that streamer, then clambered down from there. Walking around the desk, she dragged one of the visitor’s chairs toward the opposite corner diagonal from where she was. Once there, she climbed again, stepping on her tip toes, wobbling a bit, then attaching a streamer there. Greaves: Twist them? Are you kidding? It’s a prank, not a birthday party. Despite his misgivings, Wes hastily complied and began twisting the streamers in his hands as suggested. While twisting the streamers according to Peri's example, Alieth addressed an issue about which she had always been intrigued. Alieth: It always caught my attention that you humans have so much penchant for celebrating the anniversary of your own birth. What exactly is the event worth celebrating? If it was the nativity itself, you had little merit in it and your progenitors should be the real honorees. The Marine stopped twisting the streamers and looked at Alieth with a raised brow. Of all the things that Vulcan’s usually critiqued, now she was attacking birthdays? Greaves: (shaking his head) It’s a celebration of your personhood. Of your existence. It’s an excuse for friends and family to share their appreciation of you. You don’t have any similar celebrations on Vulcan? From that perspective the celebration made more sense, but it was still highly unproductive for the Vulcan. If at least it was a rite of passage... Alieth: Of course not, the completion of a circumambulation around Eridani A is hardly noteworthy. Moreover, given the disparity between stardates and the years of individual planets, such anniversaries are meaningless. Greaves: Alieth, have you ever heard the term, buzzkill? Alieth: Yes. From you, on our first day at the Embassy. And on exactly eight occasions after that. Also from you. Still a word that has no meaning, though. I have never killed any buzz. Peri simply nodded and continued in her work. That corner done, she scooted over to the middle of the wall on the opposite end, trying to mirror and reverse what Wes was doing with his roll. Greaves: I’m sure the bridge crew are starting to wonder why we came in here. Let’s try and wrap this up before someone comes asking questions. For a moment the Vulcan interrupted what she was doing and pivoted slightly towards the door. As far as her keen ears could ascertain the only thing that she could hear was the gentle and everlasting hum of the vessel and a hoarser and rougher sound stationary on the bridge. If it wasn't a behaviour inconceivable in a starfleet officer, Alieth would have sworn that someone on the bridge was snoring blissfully. Alieth: I heard naught.... although haste in this situation is not farfetched. At that point, Wes and Peri met in the middle. She paused, pondering, then dipped down to go under the streamer in his hand to weave hers beneath, then aimed for the other side of the wall. By then, the streamers were low enough that they didn’t need the chairs any longer. Criss cross, applesauce, over, around, back, through, all over the room the streamers began to weave a web, one that Peri easily navigated and, with a glance at Wes, one that didn’t really hinder him as well. With the Captain’s height, however, he would certainly either have to do some fancy maneuvering, or just plow through them. Peri’s lips tickled upward. That would also detonate the nodes. Eventually, the streamers were depleted, but now they had to go back and attach the nodes. She had been fearful that attaching them beforehand might prove problematic, either with detonation, or the sticky stuff sticking to each other and folding up the streamers. It just seemed to be easier to attach them after they were hung. Each node had already been attached to a piece of the sticky tack, then placed into boxes to prevent them from attaching to anything else, then separated by thin dividers that were of a material that the tack wouldn’t stick to. She handed one to Wes, then made her way to the innermost corner. Preemptively, Alieth moved to her original position next to the door. From there, the husky noise was even more noticeable. Certainly, it SEEMED to be a snore. Greaves: Doesn’t look like there’s enough to just slap these on wherever we want. Did you have a plan for how far spaced out they should be? Katsim: Every...third or fourth curl I guess. Thus she set to work, grateful that they had decided to help after all. Such work would have taken so long if she’d been left by herself to do it all . Except for Cassie who wasn’t available because she was on shift at that time, Alieth and Wes were the only two she felt like she could really call friends. Attaching the nodes went a little faster, and finally, Peri found herself in the outermost corner where Wes had dragged one of the visitor’s chairs. Starting at the bottom, she added nodes to the layers, then climbed upon the chair to attach one to the upper most curl of the top streamer. Reaching up, she fiddled with the node, which decided to stick to her finger instead of the streamer. Pulling hard, she managed to get it to release her skin and adhere to the fabric. Unfortunately, the streamer decided it didn’t want to stick. Peri caught it, then attempted to stick it back on the highpoint of the wall. That corner had originally been Wes’. The streamer had originally been placed a little higher than the one she’d hung on the opposite side of the door, so she couldn't quite reach. After two vain attempts, Peri glanced down, placed one foot on one arm, then the other foot on the opposite one and lifted herself up. That did it. She managed to affix the streamer once more. As she stepped down, however, the chair decided enough was enough. It swiveled. Peri swiveled with it. Peri then stopped swiveling and tumbled over the side of the chair and into the doors of the room. Attentive as she was to the intriguing sound in the bridge, Alieth failed to see the fall coming. She only saw a blur next to her head, which triggered her reflexes and made her leap backwards out of Peri's trajectory. When she realized what had happened, she regretted her sudden move immediately. She could have done something to prevent that fall. Two cracks resounded in succession as head and arm slammed forcefully against the doors, which then parted to let her slide down to the floor. Pain lanced through her arm and her head. Her mouth opened, a cry following a gasp and she curled up in an attempt to retreat from the hammers and daggers that struck at her arm and head. As the woman fell, Wes nearly lost his own footing, and he flailed his arms widely to keep his balance. The moment stretched out until just as Peri collided with the door, he finally got his footing under control. Greaves: Crap. There’s no way they didn’t hear that out there. Peri, you okay? The doctor knelt swiftly beside the ensign, holding her face between her hands to ensure she did not move her neck, just in case. When her slender fingers touched the slightly greyish skin, a pang of pain leaked into the vulcan mind. Peri writhed at the touch, another cry escaping despite her attempt to be quiet. Alieth: I know it hurts, but I need you to stay still :: with gentleness, she moved her fingers over the nape of her, so suddenly, patient, seeking something out of place.:: Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous? Dizzy? Oh yeah. Nausea? Peri couldn’t think clearly enough to say whether or not she was nauseous. Her head was ringing, the loud crash of a gong unwilling to silence, and despite Alieth’s gentle admonishment, she couldn’t help but jerk away from the Vulcan’s touch. That only made matters worse, as the world, which had already begun to spin, lurched and tumbled upside down. The only verbal answer Alieth received was a long, low groan. Wes hopped down and jogged to the pair of women. Greaves: You have a tricorder on you Alieth? How bad is it? She shook her head, in a negative statement. Alieth: I certainly did not anticipate that I would need it. :: She gazed at the marine sideway:: Give me a moment to examine her. Her fingers kept moving around the back of her neck. As she did so, the Vulcan conveyed some of the calm she had nurtured, trying to placate the emotions that had taken hold of Peri. As the doctor's fingers completed their journey from the base of her skull to her shoulders without finding anything troubling, she finally pulled her hands away and focused on the arm that Katsim held tightly against her chest. Alieth: :: in a soft, reassuring tone:: Can I take a look on it? The telepathic touch was odd. Not odd as in bad, just as in Peri hadn’t ever felt something like that before - yet she immediately recognised that Alieth was connecting with her somehow. Oh yes...Vulcans. Telepathic. If they touched you. That sort of managed to sift its way through the hammers that continued to batter her head. She didn’t /want/ Alieth to take a look. She wanted the pain to go away. Greaves: Alright, we need to get out of here before someone comes around wondering what the racket is. I think I can modify the logs so it doesn’t look like we were here and give us a site to site transport straight to sickbay. The doctor paused what she was doing and nodded briefly. Alieth: To the secondary one, Doctor Quen is working on the main. He stood and moved around to the Captain’s desk. Tapping quickly on the desktop computer Wes found that Captain Kells had remained logged on. He grinned at the good fortune and, using the Captain’s account, encrypted the sensor logs for the room for five minutes before and after the set-up. Finally he set the password ‘ G1TT3RB0MB’, and set up the transport. Meanwhile, Alieth had removed the jacket of her uniform and made a temporary sling that clutched Peri's arm to her chest. Without the protection of the garment, only protected by the under-shirt, the Vulcan suppressed a chill.Certainly the temperature of starships was not made to Vulcan standards. Even less so for those like Alieth, a native of one of her homeworld's equatorial regions, near one of the biggest deserts. If it were her choice, the starship would be kept at least at a comfortable 35 °C (95 °F). Alieth: I want you to hold still, okay? I suspect you have broken your ulna, and I do not intend to let the fracture slide. Hold still? Peri’s automatic response to pain was usually the opposite. One of the way she coped was by movement, almost as if she were trying to circumvent the pain, or distract her body from it with motion. Usually, though, she didn’t have to contend with a head that felt like it was a supernova ready to explode. Movement actually made things worse. Greaves: Alright, we’re set. Alieth: At your mark, Wes. Greaves: (Snapping fingers) Mark. And so, as the footsteps echoed down the corridor, with the somnolent night shift rushing to check what was going on, the three JOPA members vanished in a brief swirl of sparks, without leaving behind any trace that they had been there. Except, of course, for the prank. ((Secondary Sickbay, Deck 18, USS Thor)) In the blink of an eye, the three of them appeared in the medical ward. The deck was virtually empty, with only a couple of nurses enjoying a game of poker in a deck on a corner and an engineer who was in observation attempting to sleep in one of the cubicles in the far end, unsuccessfully due to the cold, clean white light that lit up the entire chamber. Alieth: Ok to that biobed with you, and most importantly, do not move that arm. Greaves: Psh, there’s no bone sticking out, she’s probably okay. (Wink). Alieth halted for a second and with a new thought in mind, turned to face the marine. Alieth: Even better, Wes, could you carry her in your arms? Miss Katsim you just hold that arm tightly. He frowned at the Vulcan and looked about. Sure, they were a couple dozen meters from the nearest bed, but it was her arm that was hurt. Not the woman’s legs… still, if she’d hit her head hard enough… Wes was no stranger to the dizzying nausea that accompanied a strong blow to the head. Without further hesitation, he closed the distance to the petite frame of Peri and from her uninjured side, scooped her up in his arms. Cradling her with one arm under her legs and the other under the small of her back, he exhaled with the effort. Peri squeaked, but she really wasn’t in any condition to resist. Pink flew to her cheeks even as the world spun about her. Now it was nausea’s turn to make its appearance and her stomach churned along with everything else. Cringing, she attempted to not let the combination of pain, queasiness, and embarrassment overwhelm her. Once he was standing upright, she was surprisingly light. Greaves: Oh calm down, it’s easy enough. Doctor’s orders anyway. He crossed the room to the nearest biobed and gently set her down on the edge of it. Though that didn’t help any of the stabbing pain or calm her angry stomach, Peri was grateful not to be subject to the rather mortifying position of sack of potatoes any longer. The doctor scanned her meticulously and remained mute for a long time, a time that became as thick as molasses. As the results flickered on the device side screen, she frowned briefly. Alieth: humm She raised her head to look at her friend and shook it slightly. Alieth: There is little to be done, Mister Greaves, a hopeless case. Greaves: How bad is it? Alieth: Apart from a longitudinal fracture in the ulna, I am convinced that we are dealing with a fatal case of an owie. There is nothing to be done, unfortunately, I have run out of doggie plasters. The Vulcan shook her head in feigned grief. Greaves: Good. I’m pretty sure Commander Teller would put us all on permanent groundskeeping duty if he found out a crewmember got seriously injured while pranking the Captain. Alieth: Five minutes of bone regenerator and she will be ready to be back on duty. Good? How was that good? That wasn’t good at all! Granted, her injuries might be ‘minor’ in the grand scheme of things, but that didn’t make things better. Of course she would manage to injure herself. Of course she would manage to make a fool of herself. All she had wanted to do was to rise up to the task given to her, and she couldn’t even fulfill that properly. As the pain faded thanks to the administrations of the miniature Vulcan doctor, Peri had to silently wonder if it was all worth it. [End] ================================= Lt. JG Alieth Medical Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 Author ID number: E239702A10 Image Collective Minion & First Lieutenant Wes Greaves Marine Detachment Commander USS Thor - NCC 82607 E239702WG0 & Ensign Katsim Science Officer USS Thor NCC-82607 M239008AD0
  22. ((Deck 5, Hammer’s Bowling Alley, USS Thor - 0426, The night before the promotion)) Neither Wil, or his Captain, had achieved their primary objective yet. He held the bowling ball in front of his mouth, thinking about his technique. He thought about which of the guiding triangles he should aim for, as he sang quietly along with the audio that was filling the bowling alley. Ukinix/Audio: The man in-me will-do… near-ly a-ny task… With the grace of an uncoordinated horse, Wil took a few steps towards the white line. As he approached, he swung the bowling ball back behind him, before flinging it forward and releasing it from his fingers. After the sound of a large “thud” of the ball hitting the polished wooden floor, the ground rumbled as the ball travelled along towards the head pin. Wil made a fist in anticipated victory, before the pins crashed together, knocking almost all of them over - except for the furthermost outside two pins on the very back row. Computer: You have bowled a 7-10 split. Your score is 8 points. Ukinix: ::Single clap of hands:: Dammit! So close. Rahman: Tsk, tsk… forget the bridge simulator, you need to spend more time at the lanes. Wil looked up at Teller, who was suspended from the ceiling of the bowling alley by a bungee cord that was attached to a device with slowly flashing red lights. The device was wirelessly hooked into the bowling alley’s scoring system. Below the dangling suspended Teller was a large tub of a cream and gelatine mixture. And his dress uniform lay crumpled up in a pile next to the tub. Wil looked up at the newly minted Commander, and gave him a wink. Ukinix: Don’t worry, mate. ::Gesturing to Roshanara:: One of us will get that strike, we’ll get you down. Teller: ¡ʇuɐǝɯ noʎ ʇɥƃnoɥʇ I ʇɐɥʍ ┴ON sᴉ sᴉɥʇ uʍop ǝpᴉsdn unɟ ǝɯos ǝʌɐɥ oʇ ʇuɐʍ noʎ op pᴉɐs noʎ ǝɹǝɥʍ ɹɐǝʍs I lᴉM Roshanara looked up at the suspended and newly-minted Commander. Rahman: Do you mind? I’m trying to bowl here… Teller: ¡uᴉɐɹq ʎɯ oʇ ƃuᴉɥsnɹ poolq ǝɥʇ llɐ ɥʇᴉʍ ʇɐɥʍ noʎ ʇɔɐɹʇsᴉp oʇ uɐǝɯ ʇ,upᴉp 'ɹǝddᴉʞS ʎɹɹos ɯ,I ɥO His first CO gave him an approving smile before she took a few steps and launched the ball towards the pins. With a satisfying crunch, she managed to hit seven of them. Not enough to dunk him completely, but enough to trigger the device to give him a little shake as it dipped him closer to the tub. The line shuddered, dropping him a few CM’s closer to the frothy tub. He didn’t know how they’d convinced Darren Hammer, owner & operator of the lanes, to setup what looked like a large kiddie pool full of jello & shaving cream, but Geoff suspected bribery. He also suspected that somewhere, Taz Shandres was filming this, ready to make another viral hit on Fednet. Teller: ¿uoᴉʇᴉpɐɹʇ ʇǝǝlɟɹɐʇS ɐ sᴉɥʇ sᴉ ʎlʇɔɐxǝ ʍoH Wil furrowed his brow momentarily. For a split second, he could have sworn that with his friend suspended like that, it sounded like he had Wil’s accent. He shrugged his shoulders and shook it off as an odd, stray thought. Ukinix: Mate, stop whinging. All the greatest officers have been through the same thing. They did it to Spock when he became an ambassador. ::Under his breath:: Probably. ::To Roshanara:: Your bowl, Captain. The Kriosian nodded and held the ball up to her chin as she studied the lane like a starship tactician. The pins waited at the end as if they were a line of Tholian webspinners. Rahman: This one’s from Rosie. Teller: ˙˙˙˙ʇsnɾ plnoɔ ǝʍ ʞoo˥ The ball struck home with thunderous force and the line went slack. Geoff had a strange moment of weightlessness during which he considered many of the choices he’d made to lead him to this point in his life. His self-reflection was interrupted by his rapid descent and nearly explosive entry into the pool, which flung foam and jello like a geyser in every direction. Geoff struggled through the bizarre, coconut smelling soup, trying to pull himself through it. All he could hear was the splorp of jello moving and peels of laughter. When he finally was able to take his feet, Geoff had less than a second to realize both the Skipper and Wil were pointing strange sparklie tubes at him. With a loud pop, both spat an enormity of brightly colored confetti at him. He was now shirtless, pantless, and effectively glazed and decorated. Teller: I’m a damn cup-cake. Teller: oO They’re going to pay for this. Somehow. They’re going to pay. Oo Wil couldn’t stop laughing. He crouched down, before laying on the ground, on his side, holding his stomach. There was a mischievous snicker that he couldn’t stop. He looked back at glittery, gloopy Teller, and laughed even harder as he rolled onto his back. Rahman: Quit horsing around and get over here. Eventually, Wil got to his feet as his laughter subsided. On the nearby table were three essential items - a towel, a bathrobe, and a glass of White Russian. He picked them up, and handed the towel and glass to Commander Teller. Ukinix: There y’are, Geoffrey. Geoff took both items with deep suspicion, but with few other options he tried to clean himself up while taking a tentative sniff of the drink. Teller: The hell is this? Smells like a milkshake! Wil picked up his own half finished White Russian, and raised his glass in Teller’s direction. Ukinix: ::Holding up glass:: To Commander Teller. Geoff grinned and nodded his head solemnly before throwing the newly soaked towel back at Wil, catching him full in the face with a wet twok. Teller: Cheers, mate! Roshanara held onto the oversized beige bathrobe with both hands held out, taking care not to look too far down while she protected Teller’s modesty in front of any Prophets watching from the nearby Celestial Temple. Rahman: All right, let’s make sure you don’t catch a cold. Geoff glugged down the desert like drink, but caught the lingering bite of a sweet liquor. He suspected he’d be upside down again, without being tied to the ceiling, quite soon. The bathrobe was enormous and nearly went down to the floor, flapping past his wrists and into his tumbler. Somehow, a floppy belt really tied the whole ensemble together. Teller: Is this some kind of religious ceremony I’ve never heard of? Oooh, I know, can I be one of those Romulan lady sword monks?! The drink was already kicking in. Wil took a quick sip of his drink while eying Geoffrey in his ensemble. Ukinix: You look like a pimp. The captain went over to grab her own mug of coffee. It was rather early in the morning after all. She took a seat on one of the comfortable couches. Rahman: So… Mr. Teller. I suppose this marks a new chapter. You’re certainly no longer a young, wide-eyed ensign. Geoff smiled and accepted the compliment as graciously as he could manage while tripping over the edge of an oversized bathrobe. Teller: ::Geoff smiled sheepishly:: Thanks Skipper, that was...almost kind of you to say. Rahman: You’re fortunate you’re so irritatingly ingratiating. It’s the only factor I’ve identified that’s kept you from getting shot at more often. Geoff smirked and bowed with an elaborate flourish. Teller: All part of the service, Skipper. Ukinix: Captain, just give the man a hug, he deserves it. Roshanara looked back at a beaming Teller for a moment and then shook her head. Rahman: “Nah, I’m good.” Wil smirked and blinked a little at his Captain’s impersonation of him, before he turned to his friend. Ukinix: ::To Teller:: I’ll head to the bar and get us another round. He turned and made his way over to the long, luxurious wooden bar that was positioned away from the bowling lanes. Geoff nodded in thanks and produced the empty tumbler from under a frayed sleeve. Why the bathrobe already looked ratty and worn was beyond Teller, but it was surprisingly comfortable. Teller: It’s this brand of supportive abuse that got me where I am today - so in a way, Skipper, all of ::Geoff gestured to his fairly ridiculous self:: this...is on you. After her chief engineer went off to raid the alley’s stores of alcohol, Roshanara looked over at Teller sitting in the much-too-large armchair across from her. Rahman: You look adorable. Like that first time you sat in my command chair. Geoff’s eyebrows went up - it was a moment he remembered well. Teller: I was terrified, you know? Figured the seat was booby trapped or something. ::Geoff found his smile coming more naturally.:: I’m still not 100% sure it isn’t. She just smiled back coyly before she got up and took a seat next to him in the other chair, pulling her feet up and folding her legs under her as she sat. Rahman: So… how are you? Geoff mimmed strumming a guitar. Teller: Well, like you said Skipper - it’s been a long road. ::Geoff smirked:: But it’s been worth it. Rahman: Yes, yes… but I’m not speaking as a Starfleet captain to a commander in terms of the job you’ve done. I mean how are *you* doing? Geoff leaned back, considering the scope of the unexpectedly personal question. He noticed his dressed uniform, crumpled on the floor nearby, and the pips near the collar. Each represented missions, and people, and time spent or adventures had. He’d met friends, formed bonds, and grown as a person with each little bronze circle pinned to that jacket. Their significance had never seemed greater to him. Teller: Honestly...I guess I don’t think about it much - but I’m good. Really. The last year hasn’t been easy, but watching this crew come together has been..enriching. It was something I didn’t expect...and I didn’t expect to like it. I feel...older, somehow. And not just because my shoulder makes that crunching noise. She nodded as she cradled her coffee mug. Rahman: You’re someone others look up to now. Someone who models the kind of officer they hope to be. And someday, you’ll be someone else’s “Skipper.” Geoff tried to imagine that. Not the brash fantasies of the Academy, but a real time where a Captains chair was his and his alone. It seemed...more plausible now, a natural extension of the work he’d done. It wasn’t about personal glory, it was an awesome responsibility. It wasn’t about self-aggrandizement, but about leading others and letting their potential flourish. It was so much bigger than he’d ever imagined as an Ensign. Teller: I got lucky - I learned from the best, and ::Geoff nodded towards the bar:: I worked with the best. Shoulders of Giants. That should be the title of my autobiography. So much better than my other idea. Geoff got the least bit embarrassed. Teller: “Telling the Teller Tales By Teller.” Yeah, I know, it’s bad. She gestured to Wil in the distance as they both watched him rummage through the bar, still on the hunt for the evening’s next libation. Rahman: Still. It can be a lonely place at the top. And the friendships you made before you got there… are worth more than their volume in latinum. Roshanara herself had noted the change in her relationship to her shipmates when she’d moved up from chief engineer to XO. Being in a position of authority had required maintaining a certain distance, but that distance was created on both ends, from her and her colleagues--the latter’s effort being unexpectedly difficult to adjust to at times. Rahman: Have you gotten close to any of your new crew outside of a professional context? ::She grinned as she teased him slightly.:: Maybe someone special even? Geoff squinted and for a brief moment, heard his mother's laughter. Teller: What can I say - never found the time? Never found the right one? ::Geoff briefly reminisced about what had, and could have, been.:: Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment? The question was as much to himself as to his friend. It was true he’d kept to himself since leaving the Veritas, letting his responsibilities and his position isolate him. It had become almost habitual, and it allowed him to narrow his focus. Perhaps that was something else he had to...reexamine. Rahman: All right, then what about just friends? Teller: Friends - yes. Colleagues I respect and admire, absolutely. But there’s nobody else I trust like I trust you, or Wil, or Addison. Veritas feels like the home I grew up in - the people there took me in when I needed them, and let me become part of their lives. It was...something I didn’t know I needed. They’ll always be family to me. Roshanara nodded and then glanced down a little at his left arm, the stylized tattoo version of herself hidden underneath. What was once a drunken souvenir had become a badge of pride, representing Teller’s admiration for his first ship and captain. Rahman: I know I once told you that no matter where you go, Veritas will always be with you. Teller: Yep. I keep her right over here ::Geoff thumbed towards his heart:: next to the Thor. Rahman: But I think you should know it only gets harder to form those bonds from here on up… She struggled with the exact words she was looking for as he looked back at her. Rahman: The command decisions you’re making these days... affecting not just a team or a department but the entire crew... Geoff nodded gravely. He’d felt that distance forming more than once and had fought to dispel it. He leaned forward, his drink forgotten for a moment, his attention focused. Teller: It keeps me up some nights. I’ll take any advice you’ve got to offer. She nodded sympathetically. Rahman: One strategy is to keep your distance. It can make those decisions clearer for you about what needs to be done for the mission. But it can also leave you feeling hollow. She paused before she let out a sigh. Rahman: I’ve asked a lot of you over this past year. And you’ve done it. For Duronis II, Starfleet, and the Federation. But promise me one thing? Teller: I’ve never lied to you - not going to start now. You’ve got my word. Rahman: Don’t let this job consume you. A life in Starfleet isn’t just about getting the mission done. You need that social support, even more so as you move up the ranks. Make your time in the service about the *people* instead of the missions. The friendships you’ll leave with will make far greater company than the service ribbons. Geoff felt the wisdom in the advice deeply. His hardest days in Starfleet had been those when he was most alone, and the new bonds he’d forged in the last year had as much to do with his success as any that came before. Teller: Honestly, the Veritas is the family I was born into. The Thor is the family I got to build. I’m proud of both, and I know these people have my back as much as I have theirs. You taught me how to make a ship a home, Skipper. Promise me you won’t forget it. She nodded and raised her mug, tapping his glass. Both rang, and their shared their drink in brief companionable silence. ((“Quark’s Bar”, Deep Space Nine - three hours later)) Wil leaned over to the Ferengi that was behind the bar - although from his point of view, after the large quantity of drinks that he and Geoffrey had consumed, it looked like there were two of them. Ukinix: ::Raising empty glass:: Mate. It’s a bit of a dry argument here. ::Burp:: How about another drink? The Ferengi behind the bar gave the Human a fake cordial smile. To’n: You’re lucky it’s happy hour or you’ll be paying off your bar tab as a dabo girl. Geoff wobbled a bit, the conversation only half heard over the din in the bar and the din in his head. Teller: I did it Wil, I got that big new job….DABO! With a smirk, Wil thought of something that he knew would further infuriate the Ferengi. Ukinix: ::Smirking:: You’d be a *fetching* dabo girl, Commander! To’n: ::Under his breath:: Sure. If I wanted to lose all of my business. Ukinix: What? To’n: ::Fake smile:: Nothing. What will be your next drink, gentlemen? Wil lifted his finger, and unable to keep it still pointed to some of the bottles behind the bar. Ukinix: Two more big glasses of the green ones. And another two shots of the pink one. Teller: And whatever that talkative guy at the end of the bar is having. ::Geoff gestured towards the ancient Lurian with the hollow leg at the end of the bar:: And one for each of his brothers and sisters! Ukinix: Why not! ::Slapping Geoffrey on the back, then turning to T’on:: *Four* more of the pink ones, thanks! The bartender tried to keep the smile off his face. Their elderly patron had seventeen brothers and sisters. The drinks were added to the tab, as requested, as he fetched the rest for the well toasted officers. To’n: That’s a deal. When the Ferengi returned with their drinks, Wil grabbed one of the shot glasses, and handed it to Teller. He then grabbed one of his own. Ukinix: Congratulations, Commander. I’m proud of you. Geoff may have been exhausted, sore, and inebriated - but at that moment he was mostly relaxed. For however brief a time it would last, all was right in his world and he had the rare opportunity to celebrate with a dear friend. Teller: Thanks knackers! ::Geoff finished his drink and procured one of the replacements:: And I mean that from the bottom of my heart. Ukinix: What should we drink to? Geoff considered and had a brief, lucid flash of a children's story he’d heard long ago, about a pirate who learned too late that friendship was the real treasure. Geoff smiled at his brother by bond and raised a glass. Teller: To the real treasure, my friend. Ukinix: To treasure! They clinked their glasses together, before downing the pink liquid. Wil flinched, and his whole body shook as the strong alcoholic beverage went down. Teller: Ugh, that’ll burn a hole right through ya…::Geoff leaned against the bar heavily, lazily wandering through his memory of recent missions::..I ever tell you I met a dragon? Dragons..s. ::Geoff found the word oddly challenging:: They were nice! Ukinix: I think…::raising finger::... that I may be really drunk. We should call it a night. Or a morning. What time is it? Geoff glanced at a wall chrono that was all but hidden behind a giant hoload for something called ‘Papa Zek’s Oomax Guide’ and sprang unsteadily to his feet. Teller: Ungh...I’m supposed to be back on duty in an hour. I’ll have to find the infirmary and get something to clear my head out...or I might be the first person to get promoted and court martialed on the same day. Wil smashed his hand to his chest, to press his combadge - but missed, without him realising. Ukinix: Ukinix to Transporter Room… uh… any transporter room. Two to beam up Geoff squinted, pretty sure Wil and the Captain had arrived by shuttle. Teller: Who are you even trying... Ukinix: Why aren’t they answering? Geoff hoped the infirmary had room for two. Teller: Come on, Vice Admiral Winning Pants. Adventure is this way. Unsteadily, the two staggered towards the infirmary and all that lay beyond. END ==== Captain Roshanara Rahman CO, USS Veritas I238705TZ0 & Commander Geoffrey Teller Executive Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 Fleet Captain A. Kells, Commanding V239509GT0 & Lieutenant Commander Wil Ukinix Chief Engineer and Second Officer USS Veritas V239511WU0
  23. ((Main Sickbay - Starbase 118)) Sheila had hardly left Yael’s side since he went to sleep; the rest would provide him with a great deal of healing. Yet for herself she couldn’t. As a doctor she could have called in relief, backup, however rest on her part wasn’t going to be possible so she stayed by the Ensign’s side the whole time. Once and only once did she leave back to her office in order to settle into her wheelchair. Now Sheila had been awake for hours, each passing by slowly, sifting through the raw uncomfortable pain. Like before a double mindedness was noticed. Half was a relief at Yael being on the mend. The other half stiff, a constant look over her shoulder, a shift of her eyes to the very corners in order to keep track of the shadows her mind externally had her preserving. Shadows of her past telling her to run back to what made her hurt. Frankly that’s why she stayed by Yael’s side. A positive affect in the middle of a mind numbing fork in the road. A detour not a set back. Bailey: Hey, morning. How you feeling? The Denobulan hybrid rubbed his face, moving somewhat gingerly, and yawned as we woke. He wondered how his sleep cycle was going to survive all these unscheduled twists. Yael: Good morning… is it morning? He’d slept all night. She’d not slept all night. Bailey: Morning yes. Yael: You look tired. Have you been here all night? He was still a bit foggy, but much more coherent than he’d been when he initially woke the night before. Maybe it was the fact that her neck still hurt or maybe the fact that she had not slept in the slightest as to why she was a tad irritated. Irritated at nothing in particular. Bailey: I haven’t slept so yes. How are you feeling? Currently she was trying with all her might to avoid her pain. Yes she would have to address the emotions with Yael. Yael was the only person as of now that she wanted to discuss it with. Maybe German too but he was off dealing with his own turmoil; it would be rude to contact him about something he knew little about. Yael: I feel… ::he stopped to consider the hurt fleshy bits::... alright. There’s no pain. Bailey: Mind if I? ::She waved around the medical tricorder she had previously had sitting in her lap:: Laying still, which wasn’t hard for him at the moment, he let her sweep the medical tricorder across him. Sheila unlocked the wheels on her chair so that she could roll up parallel to Yael’s bedside. Here she waved her tricorder over his body. What came up on the tricorder screen was to be expected. Yael was healing even if after his sleep his system was being slow to wake up. Bailey: All systems are healing nicely. Might take a couple more hours for everything to come up to speed but that’s to be expected after being under anesthesia. Yael: Thank you. Now that Yael was awake it should have been standard to leave him to rest. Sheila on the other hand even with how exhausted she felt couldn’t. Just couldn’t. She had left her sisters. German had left too. In the current moment abandoning folks was not a goal of her’s. She would likely end up crying if any of the other current crew members left the station. Panic likely to set in if they got injured without her being there to stitch them back up. Bailey: I’m sorry. Can I get you anything? Water, something to read? Eat? There was something egging at him, something he couldn’t put his finger on, but she was off her game somehow. Was it lack of sleep? Was he seeing things from being under anesthesia? Yael: Perhaps… some company? If you’re not busy? Sheila nodded. Again she wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe it was obvious too that she was in pain despite her attempts to make the twinges in her neck minimal. Maybe too the twitches were a sign of extreme anxiety, a step beyond her normal controlled head shakes. At the thought her head shook violently and only semi painlessly. What embarrassed her most was how obvious the movement was. Yael was bound to notice. Bailey: I’m sorry. Sorry, my neck is stiff. ::That was a lie which she hoped wasn’t obvious. But if it was noticed perhaps a positive topic would come out of it:: Yael: It seems to be more than physical fatigue. Bailey: I...ummm…::For the first time it seemed she was truly at a loss for words:: Yael: It’s not about my injury, is it? I think a little more sleep and I’ll be good. Bailey: Sleep always does the body good. And no it’s not your injury. I stand by the fact you're healing well; above and beyond. ::Sigh:: I’ve got a lot weighing on me. Yael: Well… you’ve got my undivided attention here for a while. ::it wasn’t as if he was going anywhere soon:: Why not tell me what’s bothering you? If the ache in her neck was anything to go by then Sheila did have something. The need, the willingness, to speak about it almost ate her up inside. Yet she easily could walk away, give in to that little voice of her uncle. Go crawling back to what hurt her. Or she could even change the subject. Bailey: You should rest. Yael: I know you’re not one to complain about the little things, so if something is eating at you, I imagine it’s important. Bailey: Can past trauma cause dissociation? Yael: Oh, yes. It definitely can. It seemed that now the floodgates were opening right on up and wide. Bailey: I don’t know if you’ve read my file yet. Yael: When I first came aboard, yes. Bailey: I well happen to know a bad man. He hurt me. I know who and what he’s done. But the disconnect. How do I….I feel so out of step. Ashley thought on it for a moment. If she was dwelling on a past injury caused by a person she trusted, she could be experiencing an assortment of issues. Some form of PTSD was possible, or Betrayal Trauma. Narcissistic Abuse was keen to leave a sharp mark on any of their victims. Yael: Have you ever been counseled for this before? Specifically? Bailey: I’ve only seen one counselor for it, months ago. Since then I’ve mostly talked to both Taybrim and Nijil. Yael: Have you ever been taught any grounding techniques? Bailey: Not that I recall. The last time Sheila had talked to, specifically a counselor, had been Malko back in January right after she first transferred to the Starbase. Since then she had only been “counseled” in nonofficial ways. She opened up to Nijil and then Taybrim. German likely counted too but that turned out to be a conversation between friends. Despite having told a few others she had never gone so far as to wonder what she could do beyond letting them know it had happened. Of course she dealt with getting a service dog but that only, as of now, hardly touched the surface of the problem. Yael: I think, with dissociation happening, the important first step would be to help you re-ground yourself in the moments where you feel lost. First, I want you to identify one thing you can taste. ::pausing:: It might seem silly, but humor me. It wasn’t so much as silly but uncomfortable. Gave her this weird, unknown feeling. Sheila had never before taken the plunge, dove into deep water, in order to tackle the emotions head on. Bailey: Metallic. My mouth tastes metallic. Yael: Now, the air in here. How does it taste? Or is it cold, warm, stuffy? Identify two things you can smell. Bailey: I can smell medicine. It’s sharp, very much like cleaning supplies. I can smell a hint of lavender too. Must be from my chai tea. Yael: What are three things you can hear, right now. Bailey: I can hear us talking, both our voices. The volume is not too loud. I can hear the sound of the main doors opening and closing. Yael: Now, four things you can touch, instantly. Bailey: I can touch my mother’s ring. ::As she said it she pulled out the chain from under her uniform. The chain had a small ring strung through it; the ring had a black stone. Sheila had almost forgotten she had had it on:: Can touch the wheels of my chair, my tricorder, the bedsheets. Yael: And finally, five things you can see around you. Bailey: ::She counted them off on her fingers as she spoke:: I can see you, the monitor, my equipment cart in the corner, and if I turn around I can see both the nurses stations and the main doors. Not to be rude but is this going somewhere? Yael: It’s a method shortly referred to as “Five.” It’s a method of reidentifying to yourself where you are, what’s happening around you, and helps you focus through the dissociation. One thing you can taste. Then Two you can smell. Three things you can hear. Four things you can touch. Then Five things you see. He lifted a finger for each explanation. Yael: It can take a little repetition to get it down. So several times a day I’d like you to run through it, practice it. When you’re feeling good. So hopefully when you feel *less* than good it comes a bit more naturally. Think you can do that? Bailey: Doing it now was uncomfortable. Yael: ::he smiled at her:: It’s rarely natural the first time. ::pausing:: Do you want to tell me about what happened? Or at least, how you feel? Bailey: I mean it’s all so new. I’ve only scratched the surface when talking about what happened. I have found a few tools on my own yet they can’t always allow me to sort through my actual thoughts. Yael: It sounds like you’re finding ways to adapt. ::but she could still use some help, it seemed.:: What else do you do that *does* help? Bailey: I’ve actually talked with Taybrim and recently got a dog. A service dog. I’d like to have that companion to nudge me when I start acting distressed. Yael: A working companion animal was an excellent idea. Despite her having new tool in her toolbelt, one that research showed worked well for others, it couldn’t be everything. It stirred up a whole ton of emotions that made her question what actually happened. Her uncle was abusive to her, the type likely not important. Sheila did not want to sit talking or thinking about the past events. Yet how did it affect her now? What new label could she give the experience? Bailey: It might take more digging but I...I think it might be helpful for me to put a label on it. I know he, my uncle I mean, abused me as a child. I can clearly say that. Could you assist me and in putting a new label on it? Yael: ::nodding:: I can help you put a name to it, if that will help you. Bailey: With my patients I work on giving them a clear diagnosis as it helps direct the most appropriate form of treatment. I might be trying to grasp onto what I know works. I am hoping something similar could be applied here? Yael: Your medical training has prepared you well for this, I think. Having something to call it… or a name, a label… can help you define its boundaries. It allows you to psychologically confine it, in a sense. Bailey: The more specific we label it the better it, again, can be treated. I guess too having that specific label will allow me to not only understand it better but accept it easier and recover. Yael: Why don’t we set up a few proper sessions together. I can try to help. In the meantime, try using the grounding technique if you start to feel displaced. Bailey: I’d like that, having sessions. ::sigh:: I’ll try my hardest at practicing the grounding technique. In the meantime what do you recommend? Sheila would have loved to have a long sit down conversation, sort it all out at once. Yet from her own medical experience that wasn’t how things worked. It took several appointments for a diagnosis or if it didn’t the issue took time to heal. It was that healing process that was never linear. And now she was noticing how non-linear her own healing had been. At 13 years old she noticed the problem, at 16-18 years she had left her home planet and it wasn’t until a year ago that she finally actively started the healing process. Yael: For now? I think you should get some sleep. *Are* you sleeping alright? Bailey: Sleep? I mean last night was the first time I truly couldn’t sleep. Yael: You normally sleep well then? Bailey: Normally, I get 8 or more hours of sleep. Might wake up with a slight headache but that goes away. Yael: That’s good to hear. Bailey: I appreciate it, all your hard work. Yael: ::he tried not to chuckle at that:: I haven’t done anything but lay here. Bailey: Anyway I think I’ve taken up enough of your time. We should both get some rest. Ashley nodded in agreement, but was glad they had the opportunity to talk. Even if it took a major surgery for it to happen. Sheila herself slowly went back to her office, emotions mixed yet feeling better than before. Now not only did she have one tool, her service dog, but more were to come. Just like any good doctor the more tools the better. Lieutenant Sheila Bailey Chief Medical Officer Starbase 118 Ops M239512BG0 No woman should ever suffer at the hands of men - Sara Lance; Legends Of Tomorrow & Ensign Ashley Yael Counselor Starbase 118 Ops C238211TZ0
  24. Write a completely different character for a full mission, but developt It fully and give the character a full arc and development is a feat, even more writing his main and 3-4 npcs more? A real feat, even more keeping the high standard of writing expertise (delightful to read), helping to keep the plot in track and being a steady presente OOC. Once more, @Geoffrey Teller displaying all the skills of a future GREAT captain, imho. Good job man!
  25. Greaves: Dear god! Sir! Photon! They're photon grenades! I could just put that as the summary of this sim and just with that it could be awesome, but, as usual @Wes Greaves have a increasingly amazing skill for action scenes, a perfect timing on those and the appropriate dose of humour. A GREAT sim as he uses to pamper us. Good job man
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