Jump to content

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'Round 20'.

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


  • Welcome to our forums!
    • Board Rules and News
  • News & Updates
    • Community News
    • Ship Mission Reports
    • FNS Headlines
  • Hall of Honor
    • Appreciations
    • Graduation Hall
    • Awards Ceremonies
    • Contest archives
  • Community Discussion
    • General Discussion
    • Trek Discussion
    • Poll of the Week
  • Community Collaboration
    • Graphics requests and Image Resources
    • Teams
    • Squadrons
    • Guilds
    • Duty Posts


There are no results to display.

Find results in...

Find results that contain...

Date Created

  • Start


Last Updated

  • Start


Filter by number of...


  • Start



Discord Username



Current Post

Wiki user URL

Wiki character URL

  1. ((Embassy, Kainga Ranch)) T’Lea: So what exactly happened? Was the reassignment voluntary, or because of that. :: Her gesture at the cane conveyed a lot of meaning, and Della’s first answer was an ambivalent shrug – though she followed up with more right away.:: Vetri: I’m beached from command duties until I’m back up to spec physically. Because of that, I’d lost the Tiger at least for a while. Since that was the case, I threw a temper tantrum or two until they decided to give me my old job here back. I believe the reasoning was “since you’ve not managed to start any wars out there, we’ll send you back before you manage it *here* instead”. T’Lea: T’Lea: How’s rehab? You’re making good progress, right? How long do you think it will be before you get back out there? Vetri: Lilyali, nobody can guess how long, if ever, it’s going to take before I’m fixed. You may be able to think of a reason I’d stay away from here if I had the chance to come back, but I’ll bet a shower with the babysitter you can’t name a second. :: Though given the nature of the babysitter/bodyguard/malodorous piece of mobile scenery in question, she doubted T’Lea would be all that eager to take her up on the wager.:: T’Lea: ::chuckle:: Frak that. :: She paused, stopping walking for a moment.:: T’Lea: You have to be [...]ed leaving your ship behind like this. You worked hard to get that seat, Della. Vetri: ::shrugging:: Yeah, I enjoyed the work. But I enjoyed working here, too, and this way, I get to be with you. :: Which may not have been the most sappily romantic thing she could have said, but then she didn’t *need* to say it. The emotions the Romu-vulc would be able to feel over their bond did that for her.:: Vetri: Are “Qoots” meant to be able to dig under the walls of their enclosure? I’m just asking because one seems to be trying it to get at our daughter’s feet. T’Lea: Hey! Get back in there you little jerk! :: An outburst which, predictably enough, was ignored by the critter and sent T’Sara off into gales of laughter. The rest of the tour was a bit delayed until all that got sorted out, but that was fine with Della – she was hardly going to complain about getting *more* time with her family, after all...:: :: Even if her hip did ache really rather a lot by the time they returned to the cabin and unpacked the remainder of T’Sara’s assorted birthday loot.:: ((Fast Forward, Porch)) :: T’Sara had staked her claim to the couch by a very simple method – she’d flopped face-down on it and started snoring, the energy boost of the treats she’d gorged on departing in a rush that had left her basically dead to the world.:: :: For her parents, this was actually a good thing, since the girl had done her level best to run them totally ragged before conking out, and now Della and T’Lea were relaxing on the porch swing, the Romu-vulc with a blanket around her shoulders, the Trill laid out with her feet resting in her wife’s lap.:: :: All in all, not a bad evening at all, especially since T’Lea had made no effort – apart from claiming the right to deliver a foot-rub – to dispute the Trill’s territorial claim to the swing.:: T’Lea: This is going to sound selfish, but… I don’t care how or why you’re back. I’m just glad you are. Vetri: ::smiling softly:: You’re not the only one, lilyali. I’m pretty much right there with you. T’Lea: If it looks like your leg is getting well enough to sit in the Captain’s seat again, I’m of good mind to break your other one. :: Della opened her mouth to reply, then closed it, then shook her head with a wry chuckle.:: Vetri: A little excessive, don’t you think? T’Lea: What can I say, you married a evil [...]. Vetri: ::muttering:: Don’t I know it... :: The pair settled into companionable silence for a while, only the quiet creaking of the swing competing with Til’ahn’s evening soundtrack, and Della let herself simply wallow in the moment. She’d *missed* this, and had difficulty remembering why she’d thought it had been a good idea to leave it in the first place.:: :: The feel of a thumb running across the arch of her foot had one Trill eye opening and aiming itself T’Lea’s way. At which point it’s owner was in no way surprised to see the smirk on the other woman’s face.:: T’Lea: Did you hear? Toni’s pregnant. Again. Vetri: Oh? No, that one was news to me. ::falling silent for a moment:: Is Tyr on any sort of special vitamins or something? T’Lea: Frelling humans. They’re worse than tribbles. Although… I wouldn’t mind getting you pregnant at some point. :: That comment didn’t so much as come from left field as from an entirely different sport altogether, catching Della totally off-guard. Reduced to little more than confused blinking as she tried to process what she’d just heard, it took the Trill far too long to form a response that was even close to coherent.:: Vetri: Huh? T’Lea: Hey, I carried the last one. Your turn. Vetri: Yeah, I get that, but... huh? T’Lea: Seriously though, I’m ready when you are… :: She left it hanging, starting a slow massage of Della’s other foot, and the Trill got to work trying to wrap her head around the concept.:: :: She wasn’t *against* it, certainly. She’d just never really *thought* about it all that seriously. Especially since it would require some rather involved – and thoroughly unromantic – activity to make it happen. There was no Mr. One to take care of the logistics this time.:: :: Which reminded her, she still owed that creep a very thorough fonging...:: T’Lea: Oh, uh… probably not good a time to bring this up, however… Vetri: Please. :: She waved a hand for T’Lea to continue, glad for the distraction.:: T’Lea: T’Sara’s imaginary friend, Uncle Mo… she’s been using him as an excuse to dismantle and build things like gravity slingshots. We finally had a talk about Mo. :: Okay, this was *definitely* worth paying attention to, and Della sat up a bit as she listened.:: Vetri: Anything useful? T’Lea: Not much. He seems to show up mostly when I’m on mission. Funny thing though… she said I've met Mo before. Weird right? Vetri: ::frowning thoughtfully:: A bit, yeah. But it could simply be due to the fact that neither of us were here at that sort of time. T’Lea: Probably. At least it’s out in the open now and we can talk about it. Maybe since you’re back she won’t feel the need to fill the void. Vetri: ::nodding firmly:: That’s the plan, certainly. :: A creak from the door had them both looking that way, and they watched as T’Sara, resplendent in PJs and sparkly pink riding boots, emerged onto the porch, rubbing her eyes as she came.:: T’Sara: Oh. Phew. I thoughted you leaved me without saying g’bye. Vetri: I’m not leaving at all, nugglet. Though I am getting up. :: She shot a glance to T’Lea, followed by a nod of thanks as her feet were released, then carefully got herself to her feet and snagged her cane.:: Vetri: I have a confession to make, though. I forgot where your bedroom is. Mind showing me? :: The little girl thought it over for a moment, then shrugged.:: T’Sara: ‘Kay. Vetri: ::to T’Lea:: ~~ And if anyone interrupts me tucking my daughter in, they’d best be wearing body armour. ~~ ((Morning, Kitchen)) :: A luxurious lie-in, a long, sumptuous breakfast, some more time spent puttering about the ranch to get good and familiar with it, chasing Ceedel off from the garden before he killed it with his proximity... all had been ingredients to a great first morning back on Til’ahn.:: :: Okay, she could have lived without the last one, but overall the effect was the same.:: :: Now, though, she was back on the porch swing, sipping at some coffee and watching T’Sara attempt to build the present Gina had sent the plans and replicator patterns for, whilst T’Lea muttered to herself as she looked over whatever it was on the padd she was holding.:: Turner: =/\= I hated to bother you two during shore leave, but I'd like to meet with you both on the Thor in about an hour? We could have lunch in the Captain's Mess if you're up to it. =/\= :: With a mouth full of coffee, Della wasn’t exactly in the best position to respond to the call, which meant it was down to T’Lea to do it.:: T'Lea: =/\= No bother. I’m looking forward to it. =/\= Vetri: ::swallowing quickly:: =/\= We may as well get the “showing off her new toy” thing out of the way, I guess. Uh... is this invite *just* for T’Lea and myself? =/\= :: The implication being that she would prefer that it wasn’t.:: Turner: ::smiling:: =/\= Of course, T'Sara can come. Knowing her, she'll be more excited to see the ship than you are. =/\= :: Which was true enough. The general call that went out shortly afterward was noted as well, but was of less interest to Della than wondering where her cane had gone.:: T’Lea: You feeling up for another walk about? Vetri: Hey, if she wants to give us a tour, I’m not going to complain. Especially if there’s free food too. T’Lea: Then get your lazy [...] up, and let’s get ready. -------------------- Ambassador Della Vetri Diplomatic Officer Embassy of Duronis II https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php/Vetri,_Della Author ID: O238506DV0
  2. (( Flashback - Stardate 237510.14, AR-558 (Home Universe) )) Colonel Mason: =/\= Come on, get to the shuttles! We. Are. Leaving! =/\= :: Purple bolts of energy raced passed Toran’s face. He returned the gesture with blasts from his own phaser rifle as he backran to the evacuation shuttle. Four months. He had been assigned to this rock for four long months, defending it from constant and relentless Dominion attacks. There had been too many occasions to count where he nearly met the Gods. He was one of the many replacements aboard the U.S.S. Veracruz Captain Sisko ordered to replace the worn and beaten garrison that had been defending it. And all for a damn communications array. :: :: He hoped the engineers got what they wanted, because they were out of time. Word had come down that the Dominion had allied with the Breen and were deploying a devastating new weapon that disabled nearly every ship they came across. What seemed like hope for the war had suddenly turned to a very real possibility of defeat. The Dominion had retaken the Chin’toka system, within which AR-558 was located. Now the garrison was scrambling to get off the asteroid and out of the system before the Dominion fleet approached the asteroid belt, but the existing Dominion garrison, emboldened by their space fleet’s victory, was making the retreat extremely difficult, and costly. :: Toran Sevo: =/\= All surviving engineers aboard and accounted for, sir! Got a few injured troops, but that’s it! =/\= Colonel Mason: =/\= Alright, time to go! Get your butt over here, Lieutenant! =/\= :: As Toran made the final stretch to the shuttle’s ramp, a massive Jem’Hadar came up from Toran’s blind spot, stabbing him in the thigh with a combat knife. Adrenaline surging through his blood, Toran ignored the pain, twirling on the heel of his boot to face his adversary. He brought out his own knife, cut the Jem’Hadar’s White tube, slashed both his carotid arteries, and stabbed him in the side of his torso, right in the primary heart. It was a vicious technique Toran had used too many times; now it was practically muscle memory. And it once again saved his life. :: Toran Sevo: :: Spitting on the bleeding corpse. :: To hell with you. :: Before leaving, however, Toran bent down, reached into the Jem’Hadar’s tunic, and yanked out his White vial. Another trophy. That made...twenty now? He lost count. With every Jem’Hadar Toran felled in personal combat, he took their White vials as trophies. The Klingons started it, but he, along with many other Federation soldiers, had taken to it with vigor. It was a gruesome and barbaric practice. To hell with egalitarianism; this was plain survival. :: :: He quickly looked at the nearly empty vial in his palm, grasped his hand closed, and ran as best he could with a bleeding leg to the evac shuttle. : : ---------------------------- Second Lieutenant Toran Sevo Starfleet Marine ---------------------------- simmed by ---------------------------- Lt. Commander Ayiana SevoChief Science OfficerU.S.S. GorkonV239109AS0 ---------------------------
  3. (( Bridge - USS (redacted), 2.9 hours from Duronis )) :: Chang sat in the center seat, her face normally placid and calm, but now twisted with rage. Her ship, racing in at Warp Nine, she hoped to get there in time before the Ashoka was torn to bits:: :: She had made her case to both Starfleet Command and Starfleet Intelligence that the mission was too dangerous for one ship, even a Defiant Class, to handle alone. Chang had even worked out where they would rendezvous to give the Ashoka maximum protection. To no avail. She was told in no uncertain terms not to interfere in any way. More than once she had disobeyed orders, but this time, ignoring her gut and what her analysts were telling her, she stayed on station out near The Zone, looking through the debris and asteroid field for more clues.:: :: A beep from the Tactical station caught her attention. Her Tactical Officer, a young Trill woman, spoke:: Tactical Officer: I have five Orion ships on sensors. Two have engaged the Ashoka. Three are of a class we have not seen before, the two engaging are Orion raiders. :: That was not good for the Ashoka. The two raiders closest to her the Ashoka could handle by herself, but it was the three bearing down on her which Chang knew would be the most trouble. Chang knew about the Devastator Class from her sifting through the information from Deka's computer the Shadow Team from the Embassy had captured. Heavily armored, two million tons each, equipped with phasers and photon torpedoes and each ship had the capacity to launch fifty fighters. Extremely formidable, the most powerful warships ever built by the Orions...but Chang knew they had help. Federation help. Chang relayed all that to Starfleet, and to SFI, but it was felt they would not engage a Defiant Class ship so close to Duronis. How wrong they were, and a good starship commander was about to pay the price for brass stupidity:: :: Chang could only watch as the Ashoka was attacked by the first two ships, which she rapidly destroyed, and she was now being besieged by the three new Orion ships:: Tactical Officer: Director...I have four ships on my sensors...three Orion...one Defiant Class. ::That meant they had not destroyed her yet...and the Orions did not have what they were looking for either:: Chang: How long till we arrive? Helm: Twelve minutes, forty one seconds... Chang: Battle stations, arm all weapons... :: Chang had a ringside seat to the battle taking place..it was one of the benefits of having the longest range sensors in the fleet, and it enraged her further to see the Ashoka being systematically carved up. Her Tactical Officer gave her the grim news she could see on screen:: OOC:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eoit0OdKt-I&list=PLH9C08qrQ7S7XKQ9tuYR90d5NhE8cGpqv&index=10 Tactical Officer: The Ashoka's shields are down. The Orions are boarding her Ma'am... :: Before she had even asked, her Helm Officer chimed in:: Helm Officer: Forty five seconds, Director... Chang: Are the Orions' shields still up? Tactical Officer: Yes... Chang: Slow to full impulse. Be ready to open fire at all ships once we close to fifty thousand kilometers... Helm/Tactical Officers: Aye... :: The three Orion ships were bracketing the Ashoka, one off her port bow, one off her starboard bow, one dead ahead:: Chang: Damage to the Orion ships? Tactical Officer: The one nearest us is most damaged, Director.. Chang: We focus on her first... Tactical Officer: All weapons ready and locked on target... Chang: Distance? Tactical Officer: Eighty thousand......seventy....sixty...fifty... :: Those were her magic words:: Chang: FIRE ALL WEAPONS!!!!! :: Chang had never unleashed her entire battery of quantum torpedoes, phaser burst cannons and heavy phasers all at once before, the drain of power so great the lights dimmed to near darkness with the output of power. The results were spactacular. All three ships were hit as Changs' helmsman ducked underneath them and the Ashoka before coming around for another pass. Surprisingly, the Orion ships had not yet moved. Seizing the situation, Chang spoke:: Chang: FIRE AT WILL!!!! :: Nothing in the fleet could out turn a Miranda Class at full impulse, and a very angry starship spit another volley of quantum torpedoes and withering phaser fire before turning again, the panicked Orion ships firing blindly into the void, seeking a target. One was visibly leaking plasma, another was bleeding oxygen...one other was afire, the flickering flame seen through her portholes:: Chang: Damage report on those ships! Tactical Officer: The closest one has heavy damage to her engine spaces, weapons offline, shields holding at sixty percent. The second one has shields at sixty two percent, heavy damage amidships and to life support... Chang: And the third? Tactical Officer: Damage to her impulse engines, aft and midship phaser arrays and torpedo launchers.. :: On the screen, they could see the three Orion starships turning away from the Ashoka:: Tactical Officer: They're running, Director.... Chang: The Ashoka? Tactical Officer: Damaged but stable. They are holding the boarding parties in check....also, I'm picking up the USS Thunder, Director... :: That was good. The Thunder could take station near the Ashoka and help them eradicate the Orion boarding team. It made her next decision easy:: Chang: Helm...lay in a pursuit course. We'll pick off the most crippled one and make them run all the way back to Orion... Helm: Gladly, Director...course laid in... Chang: Good...go get 'em..... ::As Chang watched her ship jump into warp to chase the Orions, she hoped that Zhao had been able to see the almost invisible Miranda Class on her viewscreens..she knew she would not see her on sensors, but hopefully, Zhao knew she was not alone and rescue was indeed on its way:: OOC: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=toKvyEw8-D8 :: The stars streaked by the viewscreen, Chang in hot pursuit. The three Orion ships were three bright dots in the center of her viewscreen. Inside, her rage burned as hot as the plasma which continued to leak from one of the Orion ships. She did not know how far she would chase them..perhaps, long enough for them to think they were out of danger, and Chang would be right there to put them down like the dogs they were:: Tactical Officer: Director...one of the vessels is slowing down...the one with the plasma leak. We're gaining on them.. :: Finally, some good news:: Chang: Stay on them, Mister Carroll.... :: The helmsman nodded:: Carroll: I'm on him, Director.... ::Suddenly, a flash of light dead ahead of them caught Changs' attention:: Tactical Officer: Director! They're dropped out of warp! ::Indeed they had. The stop was so quick it was all Carroll could do to keep from overrunning their target. Chang hung onto her chair as the (redacted) came to a stop directly astern of the beleagured Orion ship:: Tactical Officer: She's firing torpedoes!!! :: Before Chang could order the helmsman to evade, he was already doing so, bringing the ship hard over and escaping all but one of the torpedoes, the hit shaking the ship:: Chang: Damage report! Tactical Officer: Direct hit on port nacelle. Slight damage. ::They could see the ship firing again, blindly. One shot came close, rocking the ship:: Chang: Fire phasers! ::The pulse phasers ripped open a hole in the Orion ship amidships, obliterating the starboard weapons array, the hole erupting in a gusher of flame and armor as the Orion ship heeled to port under the hit. Chang swung her ship around, now lined up to pour another salvo into her:: Tactical Officer: She's dead in the water,Director. Engines offline. Shields down. She still has thrusters..and she is turning towards us... ::Chang knew the Orions could not see them, but they were going to try to fire one last salvo before they were done..or self destruct where they thought they were:: Chang: Mister Carroll...match her turn..Tactical..stand by with quantum torpedoes.... Carroll: Aye, Director..... Tactical Officer: Torpedoes locked on target... ::The Orion ship was burning almost bow to stern, but she was not done fighting yet. Chang knew it was a delay tactic, knowing that it allowed who ever commanded the fleet to escape. Looking into the viewscreen, Chang spoke:: Chang: Fire..... :: Twin torpedoes lanced out from the (redacted), one impacting just aft of the bridge, the other into her engine room. The ship mushroomed into a yellow white ball of flame and plasma...the Orion ship was gone, converted into superheated gases and shredded metal:: Chang: The other two ships? Tactical Officer: Still running at Warp Eight, Director..... Chang: Allright...set course back to the Ashoka,maximum warp.. Carroll: Aye, Director.... :: Chang settled back into her command chair, watching the warp distorted star field flow around her ship. She hoped she had done enough to save the Ashoka, and the Vulcan official who was on board her. Her fury still burned at the Orions, and the situation Starfleet Intelligence had put her in. There would be a reckoning one day with those who had put her in this position, and if she lived through what was coming, it would be sweet justice to deal with them in her own, personal way:: TBC Samantha Chang Director- Starfleet Intelligence USS (redacted) As simmed by: Major Hannibal Tiberious Parker Marine CO Acting Chief Of Security USS Thunder-A/ Duronis II Embassy C238703HP0
  4. ((First Officer's Quarters, USS Constitution-B)) T'Mar: Commander... ::T'Mar was alone. The bowling event had ended and she was preparing herself to meditate and get some rest. The reality of the situation had sunk in as she looked at the pip on her desk. She had made it to Commander. FULL Commander! There was a part of her that told her excitement was illogical. Earning a new rank was inevitable if she was performing at top efficiency and consistently so. But another part-- one that was much larger than T'Mar would ever admit to -- was overwhelmingly excited. And she yearned to tell someone!:: ::But who was there to tell? Liam was off who knows where. She hadn't spoken to him since they all left the Gemini. Jaxx? She had only really opened up to him once and she had never really formed a relationship with him. Besides, the life of being an Admiral was a busy one and it had taken him far away. Jalana already knew, and presumably Sun had heard as well. And then there was her former lover.. Bolani. :: ::The Vulcan/Betazoid's woman ached when she thought about Zage. The man she had chosen to love instead of the man she had been bonded to. Their relationship just couldn't withstand the distance that occurred when she transferred off the Apollo. She had heard from him every now and again, but nothing in so long that she had decided to end what was already over.:: ::She lit a candle and closed her eyes, absorbing what her emotions were telling her. Today had been a first great step for her. She was starting to open up and possibly make more friends. Something she had always struggled with, but no longer. But now, she wondered.. was it time to be open to the idea of another relationship? There was nobody in particular and she was not yet due for Pon Farr, but there was something distinct about being open to it. She had trusted Zage with so much of her. Opened up to him with her deepest feelings and connected with him like nobody else. And he so easily threw that away. Was she really ready for that?:: ::Not yet.. but maybe one day...:: END ------------------------ Commander T'Mar First Officer USS Constitution-B Community History Team Co-Facilitator/Training Officer http://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=T%27Mar A238908T10
  5. (( Jalana’s Quarters - USS Constitution )) :: The evening had been enjoyable, as Jalana spent it with her senior officers in SB 11’s own vintage Bowling Alley to celebrate promotions and the handing out of Service Ribbons. She loved that part of her job, it was one of our favourites. To see the smile and pride in people’s eyes the moment she rewarded them for their hard work. She preferred to not do it in ceremonies but in between to make it real surprises, but every now and then a party was just the right place. And seeing T’Mar handing out the Ribbons -as reward for her great work during the mission in Jalana’s absence- made her realize that T’Mar would eventually become her own Captain one day. Though she hoped that to be some time away, just as much as she was excited for her to take that step. :: :: Now that the party was over she returned to her quarters, tired but happy. But as life played its cards, the happiness did not last long. As she stepped into the darkness of her room, the memory of her Romulan visit flashed through her mind. A juicy Trill curse left her lips. She hadn’t contacted Selene yet. To be honest she had entirely forgotten about it until now, thanks to the sudden events of her father’s heart attack. :: :: Knowing herself, she was aware that if she went to sleep now she’d forget it in the morning, so after turning on the light in the living room she stepped to her desk and plopped down in the chair behind it. Rubbing her eyes she leaned back. :: Rajel: Computer. Open connection to Captain Selene Faranfey, USS Doyle. (( Captain's Ready Room, Deck 1, USS Doyle-A )):: Selene was reeling after the loss of her friend, and now she needed to put in a notification to the next of kin. Not to mention she didn't have a First Officer now, Cody had an emergency that he needed to tend to, and didn't know how long it would take. :::: When her screen lit up with an incoming message from the Constitution, specifically from the Captain and her friend, Jalana. The accept button was pressed without much thought. ::Faranfey: Good evening Jalana.Rajel: Hey Selene. Looks like you have a lot on your plate. Faranfey: Much to the dismay of Alex. I worry he'll forget my face by the time I am done the pile of work on my desk.:: For a brief second she wondered if Sun had taken Alexander with her, but then she remembered having met Alexander Bishop before. That sounded very much like there was something between Selene and that Alex. She would have to ask about that later. :: Rajel: What happened? From what I know you work off your things as they come up. :: As if that was always possible. Jalana herself had a pile to work through left, despite being back all day. That might be because she spent most of that day with Jerry on SB 11 instead of working.. :: Faranfey: It all piled up, we ended up forced into a slumber by a non-corporeal entity, and my FO had an emergency, so it's all on me. But it's late, and you called me. What's up?Rajel: Well first, I have missed that opportunity for a while but congratulations to your new rank. It's good to finally see you receive what you deserve.Faranfey: Thank you, I guess this is what happens when best friends are Captains, different parts of the galaxy earning our promotions... Congratulations on yours as well, by the way.Rajel: ::grinning:: Thank you. It's oddly comforting to share that with you. ::chuckling::Faranfey: You didn't just get notice of my promotion and need to congratulate me, did you? Of course that's not a bad reason for a call though. I know if you hadn't called, I would have contacted you, but you first.:: The Trill nodded, leaning back slightly. She wondered about where to start. That Romulan she had found in her quarters had been a quite impressionable event, not only because of the mystery how she had found a way to get in, but also because of what she had said. Jalana had even considered that hallucations played tricks on her, but the activity in the log busted that. But nobody could say where it had come from. ::Rajel: Well you are right. That's not the only reason I called. I had a visitor a few days ago and she asked me to give you a message.Faranfey: A visitor, with a message for me? That's strange. Who?Rajel: A Romulan, she didn’t give me her name, but it appears that she comes from your time. :: Selene's eyes narrowed, it couldn't be. The only Romulan that came to her mind that knew who she was and was from her time, had died trying to save them. For a moment she thought it wasn't possible, but then she thought about her situation, and that of John Nugra, and took a deep breath. ::Faranfey: I might know her then, but I'd need more information. What was her message?Rajel: ::Leaning slightly forward:: Selene, what is the Eye of the Harbinger? Faranfey: Wait, what? Repeat that?:: Selene had to make sure the woman said what she thought she said. If she did, then the message had to have come from Shiarreal, as they had discussed in great detail the Eye, and even chased leads on it for a time. Before survival was the only course of action they could take, and the Eye was moot. ::Rajel: The Eye of the Harbinger. I have never heard of it but you apparently should know about it. What is it?Faranfey: It's a way to focus energy between dimensions. Why?Rajel: The woman didn’t tell me anything, but she said to tell you that it isn’t a myth. It’s real. Faranfey: Did she give you any more information?Rajel: ::Shaking her head.:: No, nothing else. At least not about that. :: Getting the information that it was real, in the world the way it was currently, was a bit disturbing to her, but she tried not to let it rattle her. ::Faranfey: Thank you for the information.Rajel: Of course. I’m sorry it took me so long, but I had other things on my mind that suddenly came up. You look tired.:: Selene nodded, she had almost forgotten that she also had news. She felt like she was in a constant shift, losing one close friend, finding out another was alive. If she dwelled on it, it would be too much. Especially having to deal with the emotions all the time, but she couldn't dwell, and that's why the nightmares came. ::Faranfey: We lost Colonel Nugra in the line of duty, I still have to notify his next of kin, so it's not public knowledge yet.:: The words hit Jalana like a fist in the stomach and her mind went blank. She opened her mouth a few times but closed it again as words escaped her every time. :: Rajel: That… that is impossible. He was here not that long ago. Faranfey: I know, sometimes I feel that way too. I mean I was there with him before it happened, he was fine, his normal protective Gorn self. And then he was gone.:: Jalana swallowed. She knew how dangerous life in Starfleet could be. But it always hit others, not yourself. Just like illnesses and tragedies. What a silly thought. She knew more than many how untrue that was. Her friend was dead. She tried to take a deep breath, but it came out as a mere shudder. :: Rajel: How did it happen? Faranfey: That slumber we all took, it was forced upon us by a being who needed help, he was being attacked by memory parasites that were trying to wipe away his existence. In order to conserve his energy, he forced them into a dream state. :: She paused for a moment to take a breath, everything was in a report she could easily forward over to her friend, but reading it from a report was so stale. She sighed before she continued. :: Unfortunately we got too close, and he pulled us all in as well. Once we were in the dream, we were stuck. The being, we called him Lucky, couldn't release us without releasing the parasites and dying. So we need to devise some sort of distraction. There were only two of us with the memories that would be able to distract the parasites.Rajel: And he was one of the two? Faranfey: I had already lived my life, I survived the Hunger, and it was my crew we were trying to save, it seemed appropriate to me. Nugra disagreed. We debated it for as long as we could before the parasites found us in the dream and attacked Lucky again. Nugra leapt into action, and Lucky released his hold on us...Rajel: But it was a dream.. Faranfey: We woke up to find him gone. :: She was still investigating how he had been on the bridge one moment and then dead in the Marine area. :: I was as shocked as you are. :: Selene was leaving out details, like her begging for Lucky to save Nugra, and the alternative Nugra, but they weren't necessary to repeat. ::::Sighing Jalana ran a hand through her hair. She couldn’t believe that he was gone. :: Rajel: Will there be a funeral? Faranfey: I believe so, if Nugra's daughter doesn't plan one, I will.Rajel: ::nodding:: Just let me know when and I’ll see that I come. And… I’m sorry. I know he was a close friend to you. How is Sun taking it?Faranfey: Oh... I haven't told her yet... That's going to be a tough conversation.:: Her other self, more sensitive and sweet, but was also close friends with Nugra. While Selene's Nugra was long dead, she had bonded with Sun's Nugra as well, now they were both gone. And even though Selene was envious of how easy the younger self had things, she didn't like the idea of having to relay the news. Her brother would be a more suitable choice, as he catered more to the younger version of her. ::Rajel: Please tell her I’m sorry. Faranfey: :: She looked at her friend, not sure what to say. Finally settling on the easiest. :: I will. :: Selene then turned her thoughts to her curiosity on why Jalana and Sun weren't talking, wondering if something happened. :::: There was a silence, filled with thoughts, what-ifs and memories. With the whole talk about death, a fracture of the conversation with the Romulan found its fleeting way back into the Trill’s mind and she just had to ask. :: Rajel: The woman, the Romulan… she called me a legend. :: It took Selene a moment to adjust to the sudden change of subject, they were now back on the Romulan, and her message. ::Faranfey: Yes.Rajel: Do you remember when you told me that I… your Jalana is dead? ::Just talking about it sent chills down her back. She heard once that it meant someone walked over her grave. Maybe there was a bit of truth to that, she wouldn’t know. The thought that she would die somewhere remote without Rajel going to the next host just sat ill with her. :: Faranfey: I remember. :: She inhaled deeply, this was not the conversation she wanted to have, thinking about three close friends that she lost. While she still had an alternate version of one of them in front of her, it still pained her to think of Jalana's death. It was another trade for her life, so many traded for her life. ::Rajel: Well, she said I died trying to get a message out. In the Hokela System. I know you can’t tell me details and with all that has changed with your coming here it might not even happen, but… ::A thought filled pause passed with Jalana lowering her eyes to her hands..:: was that message important? Did it get where it was supposed to arrive? ::Another pause in which she looked up.:: Was it worth it?Faranfey: It got where it was supposed to go... she saved lives. :: Selene thought about her friend, the one from her future. When she last spoke to Jalana, she told the truth, she had never seen Jalana again, but that didn't mean they didn't keep tabs. Jalana lost Viktor the same way that she lost Andy. She didn't know what happened to her friend's child, it was something that didn't come up in messages between the two of them. It was the last message that her friend wanted to know about. The one that allowed Starbase 118 to try to get civilians out while pulling in reinforcement ships. The one that prevented the battle from being a massacre that only lasted hours, instead the Federation put in a gallant effort that lasted days. The ship Selene was on, USS Victory carried a number of civilians away to safety. It was likely that message that kept Selene alive, instead of fighting on the front line against the monsters, but she didn't have it any easier, having to euthanize several of her crew after finding out they were infected. :: :: The knot in her throat did not dissolve, but knowing that she had died saving lives added relief. If Rajel couldn’t be saved, it was a little comfort to know that it had not been in vain. It was strange. Logically she knew that it was a different universe and that things did not necessarily come this way in this one, but it was still her. Jalana sunk back into her chair with a long exhale. :: Rajel: That is good. :: She did not expect Selene to tell her anything more, just in case it could happen again, so she was surprised when her friend continued. :: Faranfey: Remember what I said about the battle of Starbase 118? Remember when you found out about me... I wasn't at the battle, I had to battle hunger infected people on the USS Victory. :: She stopped, her brother's ship was pulled in as reinforcements to the station, something she didn't want to mention to her friend, it wouldn't be fair to lay that burden on her. It was the right decision, no matter how much Selene had hurt because of the loss. ::Rajel: Yes, I remember. That must have been difficult. Faranfey: The Jalana of my future, was important to so many people. Even when things were bleak, she still saved lives. But, even if she hadn't, Jal, she was important to me. :: Her eyes started tearing up, she swallowed and shook her head before continuing. :: You are important to Sundassa and I. Don't doubt yourself.:: Seeing that look in Selene’s eyes made Jalana’s throat close up. She wanted to be right there in person and hug her, hold her friend and tell her that everything would be alright. But she was many light years away, so that wasn’t possible. She still couldn’t stop her hand from reaching out and touching the screen as she felt the familiar tingle in her nose. :: Rajel: You and Sun are very important to me too. WIthout you I wouldn’t be here any more. :: There was a moment of silence as Selene tried to think about what that meant. There were a few times that Selene remembered pulling her friend back from the brink before they got separated. ::Faranfey: Do you mean that time we went through the gate and you were inadvertently poisoned?Rajel: Sun can tell you the whole story. Things with Viktor went a whole lot different in this universe. Faranfey: I remember you told me that much, but it seems like a sore spot.:: Jalana raised her hand and rubbed over the bridge of her nose, yawning slightly, before blushing. :: Rajel: Sorry, it was a long but good day. I should get some sleep. :: Selene nodded, she was right, it seemed like the topic touched a nerve. She'd have to look up what happened with Viktor, last time she was too preoccupied with getting back to Alex before he forgot he asked her out. ::Faranfey: I understand, you get some rest, I still have a lot of work to do. Good thing I am used to long periods of wakefulness. :: She laughed. Long periods of being awake was alright, but avoiding sleep would do her no good. :: After that slumber, I am not exactly anxious to get back to it. Goodnight Jalana.:: Jalana was about to cut the connection, when something else popped into her mind and she leaned forward. :: Rajel: Sun… ::She prefered to call her friend by her real name, even though Selene might be just as real to her as her birth name by now. :: … please be careful. She said that Sentinels have their eye on you. I don’t know who they are but it doesn’t sound safe. Faranfey: Sentinels? I'll keep my eyes and ears open. Thank you for the warning.:: Jalana nodded and placed a hand on the screen. :: Rajel: Talk to you soon. Faranfey: Of course. Get some sleep, I'll talk to you soon.(( Jalana’s Quarters - USS Constitution )) :: After that the connection ended and the screen changed back to the rotating Starfleet emblem. This conversation had been a rollercoaster, full of ups and downs. The loss of Nugra stung in her chest, but knowing that her friend knew what to look out for and hopefully stay safe was a relief. She also had learned more about her future self, that might never happen. What was meant to be a message for her friend, a quick and simple call had turned out to be more complex.:: :: After the long day with her date with Jerry and the bowling evening with her crew, not to forget this call now, she felt tired and pushed herself from the big desk chair. As she passed the living room table on the way to the bedroom, she spotted a few PADDs lying on the ground. Furrowing her brows she bent and picked them up. She could have sworn she’d kept them on her desk before leaving. Well, maybe seeing Jerry at the time had made her careless and she didn’t notice them fall… all the way to the table. :: Rajel: Computer, was anyone in my rooms while I was gone?Computer: Negative.:: Jalana shrugged slightly and placed the PADDs on the table and headed to the bedroom. She’d better get some sleep. Her mind was clearly playing tricks on her. :: ------Captain Selene FaranfeyCommanding OfficerUSS Athena, NCC-97780Academy Commandant - Starbase 118 AcademyExecutive Council - Captain At LargeWriter ID: A239001SF0& Captain Jalana RajelCommanding OfficerUSS Constitution BImage Team FacilitatorA238906JL0
  6. ((Parker Residence, Duronis II Embassy)) ::Tyr's battle cry could be heard all over the grounds as he rushed full speed at the Zalkonians and Orions, who were rushing full speed at him. When they were nearly in melee range he skidded to a halt, leveling his phaser rifle and shooting one soldier dead on the spot. As the lines closed there was no more room for rifles, so he swung it with blunt force trauma in mind, catching a soldier in the side of the head and breaking the rifle along with the man's jaw. The rifle went to the ground and he simultaneously drew his hand phaser with his left hand and katana with his right. Rushing headlong into the ground he became a whirling dance of death, phaser blasts searing off the arm of one of the Zalkonians while the katana slashed open the neck of another. Realizing the threat the long-haired Ba'ku represented, the soldiers chose to attack his Marine cohorts, leaving the Captain to deal with Terek.:: ::The two eyed each other as the battle raged around them and closed on each other. Sheathing his phaser he saw the broadsword Terek wielded. His experienced eyes surveyed the weapon, modeled after the English broadsword from Earth.:: o O Means it's weak at the hilt near the quillions. O o ::Sweeping his katana over his head, Tyr circled Terek, his eyes never leaving Terek. The man was a monster, presiding over a death camp that would make the Nazis of earth ill if they could have seen it. He had to die, here and now. Watching closely, he noticed Terek was watching Tyr's deadly blade, instead of looking at him directly. Smiling slightly, he had his plan. Stepping forward, he raised the sword menacingly and rushed forward. As expected, Terek moved to block the blade, and Tyr swept it out of range and kicked out hard at Terek's knee. A satisfying crunch signaled his boot had found its target, and Terek cried out in rage and pain. Looking to end the fight quickly, he brought the blade up for a decapitating blow, only to be tackled from behind by a Zalkonian who saw his leader fall. Quickly rolling with the momentum he grabbed the Zalkonian by the neck and somersaulted, ending up with the Zalkonian hanging precariously by his chin on Tyr's back. Tyr twisted hard and snapped the man's neck, then dropped the body to the ground. Returning to his feet, he spun just in time to find Terek charging him, sword held high.:: :: Terek was happy to turn the battle into a melee...he had more men to thrust into the battle, and the Orions who were joining in were stronger than the Ba’ku’s overall who they were fighting. As the battle moved towards the Marines and his people, a vertiable scrum slashing weapons and firing guns moved aside, leaving a few stragglers...then it was Terek and Long Hair, both a part of and separate from the battle taking place mere footsteps away:: ::Terek watched as the man called Waltas swung his katana over his head, the man circling him. Watching the Starfleet officers' blade, Terek held his quiet and steady, daring not to betray his move when he made it. Too late,he realized his mistake as the man moved forward , Terek tried to block the blade, but the cursed Ba’ku was quicker, and to make things worse, the Ba’ku caught his knee..the crunch and instant pain told him not only was his kneecap dislocated, but the ligaments holding it in place were badly damaged. Ignoring the pain, Terek stood up to face his attacker:: :: Fortunately, one of his men had seen him fall, and had now engaged the Starfleet officer, saving him from a fatal strike, the closeness of which gave him the boost of adrenaline he needed to stand up and charge the Ba’ku just as he had killed the Zalkonian soldier who had given him precious seconds to reorganize and engage Long Hair:: ::Tyr eyed his opponent as the burning from the wound in his chest subsided. Terek’s men and the Orions were merciless killers, and the unlucky few that were wounded were killed in the most gory and horrid method possible. His men were falling. So were the Orions and the Zalkonians, but they had more to spare then he did. And, little by little, they were drawing close to the underground structure. Tye and Daisha were down there. Garth was down there. The Doctor and the wounded were down there.:: ::The hopelessness of the situation along with the pain of the wound ignited a fury within the Ba’ku. With a feral snarl, Tyr charged, aiming to cut Terek in half at the waist. He brought his broadsword down to block the stroke and did so, but as his katana slid along the broadsword’s blade, he decked Terek with his free hand, sending him stumbling backward. He brought his boot down on the tip of the broadsword and stepped forward, slamming his other foot down on the blade just above the hilt. This dug the blade deeply into the ground. Tyr brought his back foot forward, using the blade as a launching point and unleashed a vicious kick to the recovering Terek, sending him sprawling to the ground. Tyr picked up the broadsword with his left hand, wielding the katana in his right.:: WALTAS: You won’t reach them. :: Terek laughed at the long haired man:: TEREK: You are a fool! I have more ships, more men! WALTAS: If I have to go through you and every one of your lackeys, you still won’t reach them. TEREK: I will kill you with your own sword, Starfleet...before I take your head.... WALTAS::Looking at the broadsword, he smiled wickedly:: Then come and take it. ::Terek unexpectedly drew a hidden weapon and Tyr rolled to avoid the blast, bringing him in range, and with a sharp upward stroke from the katana he sliced off Terek’s artificial hand, sending it still clutching the phaser dropping to the ground with a thud.:: :: Terek felt no pain as Long Hair cleanly took off his metal appendange,...a terrible rage boiled within him...he had once again fallen victim to this Starfleet "hun' doc' fir":...Zalkonian for animal excrement:: TEREK: I have played with you long enough! I... :: Before Terek could finish his tirade, he caught the sight of a shock of yellow, then a collision as a female Marine slammed him to the ground. Rolling over, he caught the young woman under the chin, driving her head back. Using his good hand, he slammed her to the ground, even after she had kneed him in the crotch, the pain making him see spots before his eyes. Pinning her with his arm, he took his good hand and ripped out her trachea, then as she lay gurgling on the ground, Terek snapped her neck. The young Marine was dead, the joy of the brutality clearly written on Terek's face:: ::Before either could attack again, a Marine assailed Terek, and Tyr watched in horror as an enraged Terek butchered the young woman with his bare hands:: WALTAS::Roaring in anger:: YOU WILL DIE TONIGHT, TEREK! TEREK:: Equaling his opponents' roar:: NOT BY YOUR HAND, STARFLEET!!!!! ::The two approached each other slowly, menacingly. The dual-wielding Ba’ku was seething, murder on his mind. Terek's knee was screaming in protest as the two men waited for an opening. Terek spoke:: Terek: You are going to die, Long Hair. The augment will die. Your woman...his woman...will be given to my men. Your childrens' blood will be dripping from the blades of my men. Too bad you will not be here to see what fun we are going to have... ::No, it was not Terek's mission. Soon, his men would be breaching the doors and infiltrate the underground shelters, take the women, then slaughter everyone at the Embassy, save for a precious few. His open comms were telling him that although his losses were great, they were beating back the Starfleet forces. Victory would be his. But first, we pulled a daggar from his boot, and before the Starfleet officer could react, he threw it, catching Long Hair in the thigh:: WALTAS::The pain feeding his anger:: You’re just full of surprises. :: With a menacing smile, Terek spoke:: TEREK: And more to come...... WALTAS::Ripping the dagger from his thigh and throwing it aside:: You’ll have to drain every last drop from me before you get past me. :: Terek knew the daggar had gone bone deep into his adversary, and by removing it would only make it bleed worse...fool:: TEREK::seething:: To be it, Long Hair........ ::Done talking, Tyr charged, spinning in a whirling dance of both blades that sent everyone stepping backward. He knew that Terek was looking for an opening, and he purposefully gave him one. Grimacing in pain, he stumbled, deliberately, and drove the broadsword into the ground and knelt with his back to the Zalkonian. Terek took the bait, drawing closer, and when Tyr could feel the heat of the man’s body from the proximity, he struck. Striking backward with his elbow he caught Terek in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. Standing and ignoring the screaming pain in his thigh, he grabbed Terek’s broadsword and ripped it from the ground, driving it under his arm and backward, and felt the sword slide into Terek’s chest. He stood and turned, driving it deep, up to the hilt, so the blade was protruding from his back. Rising with the katana still in his right, he leaned close.:: ::Terek, in his quest for revenge, saw the opening and took it, but a nanosecond later he recognized his mistake as he felt the crunch of cartilage and bone as his own sword slipped into him. The blade was sharp, and Terek gasped, and blood formed on his lips. He was impaled on his own blade, looking into the eyes of his enemy, still defiant although he knew the end was coming..yet he chose to embrace his death, and not give Starfleet the satisfaction of of seeing the fear now wracking his body:: WALTAS: You’d better hope they can replace this like they did your hand, you son of a ----. ::With all of his strength he swung, the katana arcing toward Terek’s neck. He decapitated the Zalkonian, sending the body sprawling to the ground and the head rolling off to the side, his own sword still embedded in his chest. Dropping to his knees in pain, Tyr turned to survey the battle. Most of the Marines with himself and Martinez had fallen, and Martinez didn’t look so good herself. And there were at least 6 Zalkonians left, with more on the way in the distance. Tyr’s breaths came in ragged gasps as he forced himself to his feet and turned wearily to face the onslaught. He prepared for death. WALTAS::Touching his communicator:: =/\= Waltas to…to…anyone..need help..now..being overrun. =/\= ::He could spare no more breath. Martinez leveled her rifle and he did too. They were coming.:: Captain Tyr Waltas Acting CO Duronis II Embassy And: MSPNPC Captain Toral Terek (deceased) ZSC Supreme Vigilance II As simmed by: Major Hannibal Tiberious Parker Marine CO Acting Chief Of Security USS Thunder-A/ Duronis II Embassy C238703HP0
  7. (( Theo Whittaker's Apartment - New York District, Starbase 118 Commercial Sector )) (( Time Index: 'The Event' +5 Hours )) ::Having hobbled her way from the hallway to the little island in the kitchen, Mirra had laid her head against to cool marble in a failed attempt to quite the pounding. oO So cold...cold is good...Oo bits and pieces of the night prior tried to float to the surface of her memory, only to be banished back again by the pounding.:: Whittaker: What on earth happened last night? Tatash: I.. I don't know. ::he paused, letting out a belch followed by a broad wince on his snout. That was dangerously close to the mark:: Ezo: ::glancing up, her head still firmly against the cool marble:: I have no idea...anyone know why I'm dressed like this...? Whittaker: The last thing I remember was.... :: he looked at Tatash :: the blue stuff. What in the name of all that is holy was that? Tatash: Romulan Ale, the very, very illegal kind. I think I'd take a court martial over this hangover. ::She was never drinking again. Blue stuff, green stuff, any stuff. This was horrific.:: Ezo: ::groaning loudly:: It should be illegal to be in this much pain.... Whittaker: :: giving a voice to the other thought, as he pointed towards the ceiling :: And what is Lady Shadonna doing in my bed? ::Still slightly inebriated it seemed, Mirra couldn't help the bemused snicker that escaped her:: Ezo: I don't know Theo...shouldn't you be telling US why a diva is in your bed...? Whittaker: Oh don't be so ridiculous. :: beat :: We were sleeping fully clothed. :: And it then it hit him, the reason why he was drinking. Baylen was gone. :: Besides... Baylen... ::Mirra let out a pained moan, that's right. Baylen. This was entirely his fault. If she ever laid eyes on him again she was going to flick him seriously hard in the nose.:: Whittaker: So... what did happen last night? Tatash: I remember... something about needing a new outfit, so.... ::he paused, eyes widening, looking at the assorted carrier bags dotted around the floor mingling with the discarded takeaway cartons as they moved into the other room. All of them bore the names of the designers shops near his apartment. There was a good chance all of them were a lot poorer this morning:: We got changed at.. my place? I think? Then went out... You might want to check your bank accounts. ::Sitting up gingerly, she clutched the bar as the room spun momentarily. Once the extra rotations stopped, she glanced over at Tatash, who appeared to be wearing the remains of a new outfit oO Wait...did he always only have one shoe..? Oo Ezo: ::grumbles:: Explains why I'm dressed like a Dabo showgirl...I guess... ::Watching Theo hobble with his cane, she got a flash of memory of her having it at some point in the night. oO Oh no...did I steal his cane?? Oo She managed to slip off the bar-stool and not fall to the floor as she slunk after Theo, who carried the precious coffee.:: Whittaker: Somebody was dancing to Klingon Electro Music..... Tatash: Mirra... oh no, sweetheart it was us...::He paused, cringing so hard internally he could have exploded into a mess of embarrassment and self loathing:: Wait, I think we -met- Shadonna at the club. ::She was mid-pouring cream into her coffee when she froze. The memory came slamming back with near enough force to knock her back into the cushions of the couch. She, atop Tatash's shoulders, having somehow procured Theo's cane and thrusting it out wildly while shouting "Onward!! Into battle noble steed!!!":: Ezo: ::squeaking:: Oh...dear Gods...what have we done...? H-how did we get home...? Tatash: I have no idea, I think that was the last part of our collective sanity. Everything after that is just a blur, a noisy blur. Evidently we really, really wanted a Klingon kebab. ::So mortified by the recollection, she hadn't noticed the cream having overflowed from her cup and into her lap. Glancing down she quickly set down the creamer and her now sloshing coffee cup, standing in a flash. The wave of nausea nearly bringing her down to her knees.:: Whittaker: Response? Ezo: ::covering her face with her hands:: Did...I try and knight you both...? ::peaking between her fingers, she tried to inspect both of them for busing around their neck or shoulders as she was certain her aim with the "walking saber" would be less than ideal. Thankfully, she found none.:: Tatash: No one has a meeting with Sal today I hope? Whittaker: Response? ::If she did, it was a meeting to resign her commission, change her name, move back to Betazed and become and Uttaberry farmer. She could never show her face on this station ever again, as memories of last night's encounter began to slowly trickle in.:: Tatash: Can't you just magic this away Mirra? Ezo: ::glaring, and snapping in irritation:: I'm a doctor, not a magician! Whittaker/Tatash: Response? ::While Mirra curled up on the mammoth couch, clutching her head in an attempt to banishing the angry buzzing of the seriously [...]ed off space bees trapped in her skull, she became aware of the lyrical humming coming from the direction of Theo's bedroom. It appeared, the 4th member of their little pity-party turned chaos-crew was about to join them. Peeking through her fingers, she grimaced in unabashed jealously as Lady Shadonna came flouncing down the hall, humming cheerily. She looked perfectly polished and well rested, even if wearing a pair of men's pajamas. Stepping into the room with a wide grin, she clapped her multi-digited hands merrily.:: Shadonna: Good Morning Sunshines!! ::pausing, she got a playful smirk on her face while making a deep bow:: My sincerest apologies to you, your royal highness's, How dare I address the royal family of Sass-katchewan in such an informal manner... Whittaker/Tatash: Response? ::Staring in blank confusion, Mirra had sat up, leaning back heavily on the couch for support and stared.:: Ezo: The...uh...what now? Shadonna: ::batting her lashes innocently:: Oh? Don't you recall? You informed myself, and everyone else that you, my dear were the ruling queen of Sass-Katchewan, Capital city of planet Sass in Quadrant of Shade and dear Theo was your crowned King...::bowing deeply towards Tatash:: And we cannot forget, your noble brother in arms, King of the warriors, Tatash the mighty. ::giggles softly:: Ezo: ::blinking slowly:: We...did...that? Whittaker/Tatash: Response? Shadonna: ::nodding emphatically:: Oh yes my loves, Mirra dear, you attempted to "knight" half the patrons of the club before King Theo managed to regain control of his "Walking Scepter" Whittaker/Tatash: Response? ::Shadonna laughed merrily. Having found herself a security detail, she had made her way towards the hopping nightclubs that the base had to offer, only to run into none other than the debonair Theo, being escorted by the flame haired doctor and her rather dashing Gorn soldier. They had all been several sheets to every proverbial wind imaginable, and having rediscovered her newfound sense of empathy towards others, decided keeping the trio out of harms way was far more important, (and entertaining), than any club scene. Thankfully, she had managed to talk both Mirra and Tatash OUT of heading to the Qo'noS district to sign up for tag-team cage fighting at the bar called "The Bat'leth". It had been a most diverting evening. Realizing the time, she had another engagement she was about to be late for. With a heavy sigh, she began to make her farewells, Stepping over to Tatash, holding on the his reclining chair as if his life depended upon it, ran a finger down the side of his face with a sassy wink:: Shadonna: My wild man...if you should ever find yourself...bored with this whole...Starfleet life, do give me a call. I would absolutely love to have you as an addition to my security team. Tatash: Response? ::Making her way towards the crumpled form of the flame haired doctor, she bent and spoke low:: Shadonna: Mirra my love, your dancing, while not atop my dear wild man, was certainly divine. I'll be keeping you in mind for my holo-video for the next single. ::Looking up with horrified wonder, what the Diva said barely registered as Mirra was already planning her resignation and what new name she'd pick when she fled the station for home oO Sally. Sally is a good name, doesn't sound a thing like Mirra...Oo Shadonna: ::picking up Duchess and turning towards Theo:: Theo, my dearest love, escort me to the door, won't you? Whittaker: Response? ::Sashaying her way out of the spacious living room towards the door, she turned and faced the disheveled looking officer. She fixed him with a kind smile and began adjusting the collar of his rumpled shirt.:: Shadonna: ::whispering conspiratorially:: Don't worry, not a thing happened last night other than sleep, ::giving a saucy smirk:: not that I would have complained if it had... Whittaker: Response? Shadonna: ::laughing, she placed a hand on his cheek tenderly:: Thank you, Commander Theo Whittaker. For saving my life...and in doing so...helping me find myself again...who I was...before the diva. I missed her. And I look forward to reacquainting myself. ::she leaned forward and gave him a sweet kiss on the forehead.:: You are a great man, and a fine officer. I expect to hear great things from you. ::sighing reluctantly:: Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment at an exclusive spa I simply cannot miss. Whittaker: Response? ::Catching his somewhat dubious look at her remark, she laughed merrily and slapped him playfully on the shoulder:: Shadonna: Oh no my darling, it's not for me, ::holding up Duchess:: It's for her! Turns out she's the real diva... ::With a wink and a blown kiss, she flounces gracefully out of the Sky Palace. Having missed their little exchange at the door, it appeared Mirra had lost interest in waiting, and had somehow crawled over the couch and into Tatash's lap, curling up like a small child, and promptly passed out.:: ------------------------------------- Lady Shadonna Diva & Lieutenant Mirra Ezo, MDChief Medical Officer Starbase 118 OpsC239205ME0
  8. (( Shuttle Tyderion, Perimeter of Starbase 11)) :: Na'Lae folded her arms across her chest and sat back in her seat. The journey from Earth seemed to take forever. She was anxious... excited... and slightly scared. This was no freighter she'd been assigned to. A Galaxy class starship was for her a huge undertaking. It wasn't so much the technical aspects of flying such a large vessel. It was the responsibility that came with it. Once the flagship of the federation, the galaxy class's crew compliment was enormous. She wasn't used to carting that much luggage around at a time. And coupled with the fact that she would need to learn the faces, the procedures, and the customs of her new crew, she was a tiny bit out of her league thus far. :: :: She pulled out her PADD from her sea bag, and pulled up a few pictures of Johan. Mostly of him commanding his freighter; they always seemed to bring confidence to her mind, watching her father do what he was born for. It made her spirit lift back to it's usual position. She smiled, putting the PADD back into the bag. She pulled her hair back into a messy tail, and stood up. :: Pilot: We'll be arriving shortly ma'am. Mandak: Perfect... It's been a while since we left... Is that... :: She smiled as she leaned forward through the [...]pit area. She found herself instinctively sitting down in the second seat next to the pilot, watching in awe as the Starbase came into view. It wasn't the base that caught her attention though... It was the Constitution, and her massive glory. All 42 decks were calling her name. She felt a rush of energy all at once, knowing that she needed to be on that ship; that her life was about to begin. :: Mandak: We going to the Constitution I hope? Pilot: Well I'd orders to set down on the Starbase ma'am... :: She pulled up the comm stack before letting him talk further. :: Mandak: USS Constitution, this is Shuttle Tyderion, requesting to land... :: she mouthed the words sorry to the shuttle pilot...:: Conny: Tyderion, cleared to bay Two High. Slow approach pattern advised. Mandak: May I? :: looking to the pilot, who was still figuring what to do...:: Pilot: I mean, you basically already are so... :: He sort of put his hands up in desperation, signaling his transfer of control to her. :: :: She Rubbed her hands together, and got her bearings about the control panel. oO You could just be appropriate, just this once... NAH...Oo. Lae wasn't a hotshot by any means, but there was the random occasion where she'd run outside the lines a bit. This was one of those occasions. She took control, and moved the speed indicator up a bit. :: Pilot: I'm pretty sure they advised low speed approach ma'am... Mandak: They did? Hmm... :: They were making their way pretty quickly to the suggested bay, and noted that the door was opening. She moved the speed up even higher, moving quicker and quicker towards the bay. her eyes widened a bit as she waited for the right moment. The proximity alarm began to go off, sending the pilot into a panic. :: Pilot: Ma'am, give ME CONTROL! NOW! Mandak: Live a little will you? :: She punched in a 180 maneuver, turning the shuttle about face as they continued to move backwards at a ridiculous speed for landing. The rear of the shuttle breached the force field, and she threw on the rear maneuvering thrusters, just long enough to stop the shuttle, having her land ever so gingerly on the deck. She looked at the console with a satisfied look, then having forgot about him for a second, over to the pilot... :: Pilot: Get out... Mandak: Alright, alright... Sorry... :: The rear hatch opened, and she began to step out. :: Pilot: You forgot something... :: he launched her bag out the rear door onto the floor at her feet. :: Mandak: I said Sorry! :: The door closed as the words came out. This was why she typically chose the more reserved moments in life. :: :: for now though, she would need to find her quarters and get settled. Word around the ship was that the senior crew was enjoying some much needed time off from their most recent adventure, at something called a "bowling alley". She wasn't entirely sure what that all meant, but she was eager to find out. More so eager to meet her fellow shipmates, and see what new horizons awaited her. She dressed down in her quarters, wearing a simply skirt and top. She let her hair out for the evening, being that the occasion wasn't to be neat and tidy as typical duty might call for. She breathed deep, took one last look at the PADD with her father on it sitting on the table, and walked through the doors into the corridor. ((Short while Later, Starbase 11 Bowling Alley)) :: Lae made her way to where she'd asked about the Conny Crew. The folks at the Starbase were quite accommodating to her questions, and seemed to know all about this famed crew. Just from that alone, she felt like she was walking into an adventure already. She breached the doors to the Alley, and could see that the place was packed, with people eating and drinking, and throwing things. She found it quite peculiar, but at the same time fun. throwing large balls at objects down range. Seemed similar to a game they would play back home, but the lights, music and everything else about the place seemed to have any down home experiment beat. She asked around, and was soon pointed over to where the Conny crew was playing. :: :: She spied about for a moment, picking out the first officer from the manifest she'd reviewed. She was intertwined with other members of the crew, but now was as good a time as any to get involved. She made her way over. Giving a light tap on the arm, she introduced herself.:: Mandak: Ma'am, Ensign Na'Lae Mandak, reporting. T'Mar/Anyone Else nearby?: [Tag] TAG/TBC Ensign Na'Lae Mandak HCO Officer USS Constitution-B O238901VL0
  9. (( Computer Core; F.M.S. Krayvet )) ::Kaitlyn refocused her thoughts, plastered an image into her mind; the Orion woman who Kaitlyn now desperately wanted to kill.:: ::The fires relit, Kaitlyn’s energy coming back as well as it could. She shouldered her rifle, pulled herself up enough to get aimed downrange, and pulled the trigger.:: ::The woman was advancing, deftly dodging Kaitlyn’s disruptor fire as she threw her own rifle aside and drew a dagger. Kaitlyn reached back, yanking the shard from her leg with a hiss and tossing it aside. She could not move at max speed, but she needed to be able to move at all.:: ::Khante approached with a feral grin, dagger clutched tightly in her hand. Kaitlyn pushed away from her cover, away from the continued weapons fire from Khante’s guards, to where she could regain her footing. She grabbed a chunk of debris; essentially a broken piece of bulkhead about two-thirds of a meter long.:: ::She really wished she had kept that pipe…:: ::The guards continued their fight with the rest of the team, though the rest of the room faded out of Kaitlyn’s perception. Her eyes locked on Khante, and the two horrific days she had spent while Khante had her fun came back in a flood.:: ::James talked about the times he had seen RED, when a situation had driven him so far into anger that all he could see was his target and all he could feel was the intense desire to beat them to a pulp.:: ::Kaitlyn had been plenty angry before, but this time… she saw RED.:: ::Khante advanced on Kaitlyn.:: Khante: Time for you to die, pretty face... ::The Orion woman reached out, faster than Kaitlyn was able to dodge, grabbing hold and pulling Kaitlyn closer. Her knife flashed in the dim light, Kaitlyn able to get her scrap metal in the way just in time to deflect it.:: ::Kaitlyn finally got a closer look at Khante, seeing signs that the Orion woman had already been in a fight that day. She had taken a hit to her face, too; Kaitlyn could use that.:: Falcon: Not before I add to that new bruise of yours. ::Kaitlyn grabbed the scrap in a two-handed grip, advancing to swing at Khante. Khante was ready for it, knocking Kaitlyn’s weapon upward and slamming her elbow into Kaitlyn’s jaw. Before Kaitlyn could recover, she drove that same elbow into the crook of her neck, which exploded in pain. Thankfully, she managed to keep hold of her scrap.:: ::Khante spun Kaitlyn around, keeping her on the side closest to the rest of the team.:: Khante: I thought I said STAY DOWN, little flea! ::With one hand, Kaitlyn held the dagger at bay as best as she could. She managed to fight her other hand free, swinging it around to punch over her shoulder, into Khante’s face. Kaitlyn immediately reversed, bringing her elbow back under to strike into Khante’s midsection. The grip on her shoulders loosened, and Kaitlyn was able to slip free.:: ::Now, Kaitlyn’s smile was the one to turn predatory.:: Falcon: What’s the matter, little greenskin? Too quick for you? ::Khante bared her teeth, hissing as she stabbed her dagger toward Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn managed to dodge back, ignoring the burning pain from her thigh and reveling in Khante’s frustrated scream. Khante shoved Kaitlyn toward the bulkhead, Kaitlyn allowing the move to succeed.:: ::Kaitlyn’s injured leg was having a tough time keeping up. She needed support to be able to move quickly, to strike at her hardest. The bulkhead would do.:: ::She hit the bulkhead with a thud, turning around in time to see Khante charging with her dagger. Kaitlyn spun aside, remaining along the bulkhead, as the ship shook violently beneath them. It knocked Khante off balance, forcing her to run into the bulkhead. Bracing with one arm, Kaitlyn brought her other elbow around to strike Khante in the back of her head, slamming her face into the wall.:: ::Second confirmed nose kill. Three more and she would be a nose breaking ace.:: ::The air was definitely getting a little thin. Kaitlyn could notice it, but it seemed to be affecting Khante a bit worse. Kaitlyn had to strike now and strike hard, before she, too, started succumbing to the effects.:: ::Khante lashed out with her dagger once more, her swing clumsy. Kaitlyn dodged back, swinging her on scrap upward with all the strength she could muster, making a lucky connection with Khante’s arm.:: ::Her hand went limp, dropping the dagger.:: ::What happened next felt like slow motion. Kaitlyn dropped the scrap, reaching out to grab the dagger before Khante could recover it. The deck shook again, though Kaitlyn’s lean against the bulkhead kept her from staggering. Kaitlyn pressed in, using her elbow to hammer Khante’s skull into the bulkhead once again.:: ::Khante was disarmed. Disoriented. A good Starfleet officer would have incapacitated Khante, taken her in to answer for her crimes.:: ::In that moment, that was NOT Kaitlyn.:: ::Kaitlyn swung the dagger around, hard, slamming past Khante’s defenses and driving it straight into the side of the Orion woman’s green neck. Kaitlyn pulled it out roughly, driving it in again as she yelled.:: ::Khante collapsed, but Kaitlyn did not stop. Kaitlyn fell with her, landing beside Khante’s face-down prone form, and continued to drive the dagger into the woman’s back.:: ::All the while, Kaitlyn yelled. All the anger, all the pain, all the frustration caused by being on that ship mixed with whatever remained from seven years before came out in a flood of rage.:: ::Finally, with one final resounding shout, Kaitlyn plunged the dagger as deeply into Khante’s back as she could… and then fell back into a kneeling position beside her, staring.:: ::The battle behind her finally ended, doors reopening on oxygen flooding back into the room. Sounds, voices, came from behind her, but Kaitlyn paid them no heed.:: ::Eventually, someone approached to tap gently on Kaitlyn’s shoulder. The woman turned to look, her face neutral. The usual smirk, the standard levity and snark… None of it was there. There were no tears, but her eyes were moist.:: Any: ? ::Kaitlyn gave a slow nod.:: Falcon: ::Neutral tone.:: Let’s get out of here. Any: ? (( Flashback – Seven Years Ago; Abandoned Factory; Oliph VII )) ::Kaitlyn opened fire with both weapons, lighting up her attackers in a hail of phase pistol blasts. What the pistols lacked in raw power they made up for with a blistering fast fire rate. As the last of the group was impacted and started to be pushed backward, Kaitlyn sprung to her feet and started to charge ahead. The Orion fell in front of the door, holding it open.:: ::The area beyond was more heavy industry. Piles of debris, stacks of piping and materials, and pieces of defunct equipment littered the grounds. Kaitlyn dove out of the doorway, rolling into cover behind some of the equipment. The klaxon was much louder now, and weapons fire started to strike the edges of her cover. She set down one pistol long enough to grab her emergency signaler, switching it on. If Nova was anywhere in earshot, she would come running. Taking up her pistol again, she popped out long enough to see her next destination.:: ::She had no real idea of the layout of this building/complex/thing. Light streamed in through a gap in the ceiling, and the far side of the large room had a doorway leading to what she believed to be outside.:: ::The best cover took her past each one.:: ::Waiting for a break in the first, Kaitlyn launched herself out from the piece of equipment. She unleashed a flurry of shots from her twin pistols, trying to suppress any return fire until she could roll behind the next pile of debris. Shots passed her on all sides, or struck the ground nearby, but somehow she managed to avoid getting hit. A risky second attempt got her even closer to her objective.:: ::That was when her signaler started pinging. Nova was close! Her ‘youngest kid’ good luck seemed to be with her that day. Looking up, she saw she was close enough to the opening for the next part of her cunning strategy.:: ::She reached to her belt, pulling out a primitive flare gun. She pulled back its hammer, aiming for the gap and firing. The bright white flare flashed upward, giving the dual benefits of signaling Nova her exact location and temporarily blinding anyone who had been looking too closely at her. In the confusion, Kaitlyn managed to sprint to the doorway.:: ::Overheard, Kaitlyn could hear the scream of Nova’s impulse drive as the Raven-class turned tramp freighter swooped in between the buildings. She saw her phase cannons swing out and snap into position, all glowing a bright red. Kaitlyn ducked behind cover, smiling at Nova’s dramatic entrance.:: Falcon: Light ‘em up, guys. ::As if in response, Nova began to fire with all her cannons; or at least any which could be brought to bear. They blasted through gun emplacements, punched through forcefields and bulkheads, and evaporated anyone foolish enough to stand still. The paltry return fire bounced harmlessly off Nova’s shields.:: ::For a moment, no eyes were on Kaitlyn.:: ::Nova seemed particularly fixated on one building, a signal to Kaitlyn that they wanted her to go that way. Best guess; unable to beam her out. Get to a roof. Ducking into the rough corridor made by Nova’s cannon fire, Kaitlyn sprinted across the dirt ground separating the buildings and kicked her way inside.:: ::It was a mad dash to get to the roof. She blasted holes in any remaining defenders, shot the chains off locked doors, and paused as Nova raked a floor with cannon fire to clear her path. There was no time for analysis, for consideration, barely even for thought. Kaitlyn was on pure automatic, with survival as her only goal.:: ::One final door finally admitted her onto the roof. It was still strongly defended, forcing Kaitlyn to remain ducked behind the stairs. She attempted to return fire, but the defenders were too well entrenched. She could not make any more headway.:: ::Nova had raised her altitude, turning to bring her cargo ramp toward the building. The ramp started to lower, a familiar form walking down.:: ::It was James. On his back was a portable power generator. In his hands was a man-portable phase cannon. Protected by Nova’s shield bubble, he strode down the ramp, yanked the cannon’s charging lever, and took aim at the remaining defenders.:: ::His shots punched through their emplacements, and served as a hell of a distraction. Kaitlyn was back on her feet in an instant, her pistols comparatively wimpy looking but managing to drop the few who looked her way.:: ::She passed through the shield bubble at a dead sprint, weapon blasts being stopped behind her. Now fully spent, Kaitlyn’s legs finally failed as she got halfway up the ramp, James holding his fire to grab Kaitlyn’s arm and keep her from falling.:: ::The grab, while reasonable, BURNED.:: =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Lt Commander Kaitlyn Falcon Chief Helm Officer Starbase 118 / U.S.S. Albion F237507RF0 =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
  10. (( Mission Specialist Office - Deck 1 - USS Athena )) :: She had been in the middle of a nap when her PADD had chimed and a message had been displayed by someone named Commander David Cody. As far she could think, Shiarrael had never met anyone by that name, but human faces were still quite difficult to tell the difference at times. :: :: Having found a clean dark gray-black jumpsuit with her rank and Republic insignia embroidered in silver, she took a quick look in the mirror and growled at her hair. It was a bit mangy, and though she usually did not care. Being made Liaison Officer meant she had to keep putting her good foot forward. :: :: Having finally arrived at the office, she rang the chime preferring not to barge in. :: oO Make him leave his defensive position. Oo :: David glanced up, pouring through the reports lighting up his slim padd, and blinked. oO I should have paid better attention. Oo Still musing, he glanced around as he spoke. :: Cody: Enter! Shiarrael: I'm Tribune Shiarrael Ei-Ihhliae. I got your message. :: David stood and gave the Tribune a polite bow, acknowledging her status. :: Cody: :: soft:: Thank you for seeing me, Tribune Shiarrael. I trust no one’s bothered you. Shiarrael: Bother me? People either like me or have the brains to leave me alone. :: In this, David preferred to defer to Shiarrael, as he was about to ask her some things she likely no longer wanted to discuss. :: Cody: Selene… or if you prefer, Sundessa, read me in. Something’s come up. And it very well may be related to when the future Victory came through into this universe. :: As Shiarrael had sat down and crossed her leg trying to look as relaxed as she could. Unannounced meetings were not one of her strong suits and trying not to think of ways to kill him if he tried to come at her was very difficult. The lovely styluses on his desk had such a wonderful point to them. :: Shiarrael: I only know her as Selene, Commander. You might be confusing me with my alternate self that was killed in 2391. If you want to know more I’d suggest looking up the records. :: David gave her a long look, and silently shook his head. :: Cody: Temporal Affairs likely will not let me see their files. So, I went digging into the past to find information because we’re about to head off to a planet where there’s evidence of Yelta influence. Shiarrael: Point? Cody: Please don’t think of this as an interruption. And no, she wasn’t killed in 2391. I did look up the records. And yes, there was a Shiarrael who was killed in that year, but there was a curious incident last year. ::a sad smile:: So… I was left with the question of how a certain high ranking officer could have obtained information they couldn’t have possibly obtained, with someone named Shiarrael involved. If you say it’s not you, we close the book, nothing ever gets said again, I’ll dig deeper and find someone else who can tell me why Commander Prendar has been chasing temporal abnormalities, long before the 2414 incursion. Shiarrael: Fvadt. What the hell are you talking about? First, you tell me that my twin, who by the way was Captain Faranfey's first officer, is still alive, and then you come way out of nowhere accusing me of giving out some information without telling me what information. I don't like games. I don't even know this Prendar. :: Shiarrael had no interest to hide her irritation because this man was rubbing her the wrong way. The stylus was starting to look really good. :: Cody: Well, he seems to know quite a deal about almost every single temporal event. ::narrowing his eyes:: Which means he’s been keeping a closer eye on everything than I have. But hey, I don’t have to care. Hell, I don’t even have to dig as much as I have… but you know what? I happen to believe in Selene, and it’s my job to investigate. That’s what I do, and I don’t quit. So if you say you don’t know anything, then I apologize, I’m sorry for wasting your time. I’ll just poke around Temporal Affairs instead. Maybe I’ll find what I’m looking for there if I don’t get killed in the process. :: David collected himself. He knew this was a long shot. :: Shiarrael: ::angry:: Here's something to help clear the waters, i believe is the human saying. I don't give a damn about Selene's mission. There are only two things I care about onboard this ship and that's Talia Kaji and the Republic's interests. If I get to blast alien scum, then it's a nice bonus. I’m not part of your game, Commander Cody. Go play spies with your own people. :: Short, and cold, David shook his head. :: Cody: Not my people. I only care about hunting down and destroying the people who think they can bring this frakking Hunger to my universe. Thank you. :: He jerked his head. So she no longer cared. He’d find someone else. :: Cody: ::cold:: If you change your mind and actually start caring again, you know where to find me. I thought you of all people wanted the Hunger exterminated. Guess I was wrong. Go convince the universe you are who you claim. I won’t be bothering you again. :: Her eyes were burning cold at the man who was speaking to her. Was it being dragged in unannounced or was it that she just didn't care? At the moment, her anger had won the round and a million years of her people's arrogance had gotten through. She wasn’t sure which emotion was the appropriate one. Standing, she made her way for the door and turned. :: Shiarrael: ::icy:: And Commander. The next time you need to speak with me, make an appointment with my holo-secretary. I'd hate our conversations to become a diplomatic incident. As you say, the captain has enough to worry about than a complaint from the Republic. :: Smirking, David nodded. :: Cody: Don’t worry, Tribune. There won’t be a next time. There might not even be a universe to come back to. Kinda seems like little things like that, there may not be anyone left. Certainly not the Federation. Maybe none of us, if what I hear is true about the Hunger. Have a pleasant day. :: First instinct was to fire back another retort, but that was not going to help the situation. All it would do would be to make her madder and closer to doing something she'd regret. Turning her back and heading out of the office, she stopped as soon as the door hissed shut. Her anger had begun to subside. She grimaced at the first thought that flitted into her head. :: Shiarrael: ::muttering:: Frak. Talia is going to be [...]ed at me. JP By.... PNPC Tribune Shiarrael Liaison Officer Romulan Republic As Simmed By… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lieutenant John Nugra Security Officer USS Athena, NCC-97780 Podcast Team Facilitator Deputy Commandant Captain's Council Magistrate Provisional Fleet JAG Officer Publicity Facilitator (Interim) V238008N10 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ & Commander David Cody Mission Specialist USS Athena, NCC-97780 P237106MB0 hoodsdavid@gmail.com
  11. ((Briefing Room, USS Avandar)) ::As he awaited the mission briefing, his mind began to wander until it arrived, rather unexpectedly, at a destination he was not entirely prepared for. Emerson. Oh sweet, dear Emerson! Emerson who always made things better. Emerson who always harnessed and dragged the sun through the darkest of clouds to shine on his gloomy days. Emerson who always made the pain go away. Emerson who was murdered. Emerson who is dead. Emerson who is gone. Forever. He sighed, staring blankly at the PADD before him. A swirl of memories spun furiously in his mind.:: ((Flashback – stardate 239112.27)) ((Brig, USS Atlantis)) ::Raj had intentionally used the name Marcus while the security officer was present, though he knew full well that it was indeed Kelrod who he was conversing with.:: DICKENS: ::sighing:: Please, sit down. What I'm about to tell you... Marcus wanted to wait 'till we ended this assignment to not cloud your judgment with what it implies, but it seems that you've already found out by yourself... BLUEHEART: ::taking a step back:: What? ::frowning, perplexed:: What did you say? DICKENS: Just before we entered the Norlian Nebula, after West departure it has come to my knowledge that Emerson has been... kidnapped. ::His lungs vomited out the air in them and he staggered back, trance-like, staring at the man in front of him with unseeing eyes.:: DICKENS: I have seen some footage from DS26 security where he's seen with a bag in his head being dragged by some unknown people. The only way security hasn't found him is because he's not on the station anymore, so his whereabouts and condition... it's unknown. BLUEHEART: ::voice soft, raspy:: You’re.. telling me now? Now? ::suddenly roaring:: NOW??!! You [...]!! I trusted you!!! ::He launched his small frame at the Angosian-Betazoid, seething with rage and confusion. If he wasn’t mad a while ago, he surely was now. He coiled his right arm back, ready to strike at Kelrod’s smug face, but was stopped by the man himself.:: DICKENS: Captain, I'm not the optimistic Betazoid that will put things sweet for you. Reality is that he's captured against his will and dragged out of the station. We can't know if he's dead or alive, all you have is an impression, a feeling that might be clouded by the situation and the temporal distortions we're experiencing. BLUEHEART: ::shoving himself away from Kelrod with disgust:: You had no right!! No right to keep that information from me!!! ::He clasped both his hands on top of his head, moaning in frustration and sheer anger.:: DICKENS: Once we're out of here, we'll head back to DS26, after Townson charges and the implications of dealing with a ship out of time, I'm sure SF HQ would like to interview most of us and do an investigation. Then I'll see to help you discovering any trace of Emerson that we can find and talk to Starfleet Intelligence, along with Townson to know the true. BLUEHEART: And they’re going to just believe you?? You?! The THING inside Marcus?!! ::He scoffed in disbelief.:: This isn’t happening! This isn’t happening!! ::He shook his head repeatedly and slammed his back against the far wall of the cell, sliding down the smooth cold surface till he was sitting on the floor, legs outstretched before him, like a broken ragdoll.:: DICKENS: As of my... condition, I've met a lot of intel personnel, and have some of them as... friends. I'm sure I can get something about him but now you have to focus and being the captain that you've been since I joined you first day on the Bridge. BLUEHEART: ::looking up and narrowing his eyes:: And how am I going to do that, huh? I’m a bloody war criminal for the gods’ sakes!! DICKENS: I have a plan ready to deal with all that's going on here. I'll let you here to calm down and analyze your feelings and rationalize what you've felt and what I've told you. ::looking back to see the Counselor:: I want you to speak with Danzia, you know the drill, you were in her place before and talking about things is the best way to overcome them and deal with them properly, right? ::Raj looked past Kelrod and saw LtCmdr Danzia preparing her questions. Suddenly an idea began to form in his mind. A dark, sinister idea. A selfish idea, but one borne out of desperation, out of love. He cannot be in here if he was going to rescue Emerson!:: BLUEHEART: ::suddenly looking up with a blank stare, all emotions drained from his face:: You’re right. You’re absolutely right, Commander. ::He stood up just as the Bridge hailed the acting Captain, signaling the arrival of the Romulans. Raj could only drop his jaw and gape at the man standing before him.:: DICKENS: I have to go now, you know, deal with the Romulans, navigate through time rifts... the usual Starfleet stuff. ::placing a hand on his shoulder:: Don't worry Raj, If we get out of this we'll find about Em, if we don't,... we'll have a lifetime to think and talk about it. ::Raj turned the other way as Kelrod left the cell and left the security suite. He grew numb. He wasn’t sure what to feel next. Anger, that Marcus/Kelrod knew about the kidnapping all along but withheld the information from him lest he be distracted? Fear, of what might have happened to Emerson? Confusion, as to how he was expected to keep something like this from affecting his duty to ship and crew? How could he not have known?:: ((End flashback)) ::His heartrate soared. He wrung his hands under the table. Those merciless memories would continue their attack on him.:: ((Flashback – stardate 239112.31)) ((Bridge, USS Atlantis)) ::Amidst of all the chaotic action unfolding in and around the ship, Raj felt a cold hand grip his heart and clench its fist. He took a small step back, startled by the sensation. It was more a notion, a feeling, than a sensation. A vision, perhaps. His first thought was that he was experiencing a heart attack, but he soon realized that the symptomatology was all wrong. But something else was. Something was terribly wrong. It was as if the hand squeezing his heart was a dark shadow, snuffing out all the light from the organ. He became afraid, he became confused. He felt smothered. He was asphyxiating. Something was terribly wrong. He was suddenly overwhelmed by a profound sense of loneliness, abandonment and desolation. Tears welled up in his eyes but he quickly blinked them right back in like the expert crying clown that he was. His heart was no longer beating. It was but a husk. An empty shell waiting to be rid of this world by a rogue wind. Something was terribly wrong. He felt as if the entire universe collapsed in on itself and around him, crushing him. He was being crushed on the inside as well as on the outside like an insect. The loneliness was intensifying. He was adrift in endless blackness, severed from his sanctuary, severed from the anchor that bound him to his own private haven. He drifted off deeper into the abyss of blackness, into nothingness. He was ceasing to exist. Something was terribly wrong. It all happened in a fraction of a heartbeat that seemed like an eternity. He knew instantly what was it that was terribly wrong. Emerson! He struck an emotionless façade while being dead inside. Thank the gods for exploding starships and deadly space battles! Thank the gods for sweet, sweet distraction! :: ((End flashback)) ::He leaned back in his seat with a soft, barely audible sigh. These were the nightmares that kept him wide awake on most nights.:: ((Flashback – stardate 239201.11)) ((Starfleet Morgue, DS26)) ::The hall was appropriately dim. It reeked of bleach and death. A single metal table stood in the center of the hall, illuminated within a cone of white light, surrounded by an audience of cabinets brimming with the dead. A white sheet covered the body. It took forever for him to take three steps towards it. He was amazingly calm as he drew back the white sheet. Once pale skin now tinged green, stared back at him. How many times had he attempted and failed to count the freckles on that face. The fiery red hair was now dark, wet and oily with disinfectant. The eyelids were stitched close. How dearly he missed those infinite emerald orbs! What he would do to lose himself in them again. The palest of lips were sewn together, the sutures making little X’s across the mouth forever sealed shut. What secrets hid within? Withdrawing a small, folded piece of paper from the breast pocket of his uniform jacket, he stared at it for several seconds, rubbing his thumb across the surface in circles, before gingerly inserting it into a pocket on Emerson’s uniform. Just over his still heart. Resting his palm there, he looked adoringly at the lifeless man, peering into eyes permanently shut. A soft breath of air escaped his lips. It might as well be his soul departing. He leaned in and kissed the cold, bloodless lips, the catgut X’s [...]ing his own. Raj knelt beside the table and took Emerson’s cold and rigid right hand into both of his. Squeezing it gently, he silently invoked Athena’s blessing for a soul’s safe passage to the stars and beyond. He closed his eyes not to focus his thoughts and prayers, but because he was ashamed that he never really believed in gods and demons and the life eternal. Death is finite. Death is final. Death is the end. A lonely tear emerged from hiding to roll down his face. It would prove to be the last tear Raj Blueheart would ever shed.:: ((End flashback)) ::He sat forward once again, the briefing was about to start. This time he clenched his fists under the table. He made a solemn vow that moment. He would seek answers. He would seek closure. But most important of all, he would seek vengeance.:: TBC ================================ Captain Raj Blueheart Medical Officer USS Avandar NCC-80203 D238601RB0
  12. ((Deep Space 6 - Deck 79, Sickbay Complex)) ::After so long an interminable period of time, Maxwell Traenor could stand it no longer. He knew that his captain and friend Renos had been placed in a medically-induced coma in order to facilitate nir healing, but no other info had been forthcoming since. All he knew was, “no visitors allowed!” But, that just wouldn’t deter the obstinate scientist.:: ::Technically, with his assignment to acting first officer of the Darwin, Maxwell should be wearing the maroon collar of the Command track. Thankfully though, he had some teal Science uniforms still left hanging in his closet, and it was one of these that he had donned. As well, sneaking into the Darwin’s sickbay, he had absconded with both a medical lab coat and a medical tricorder. He made his way onto Deep Space 6, and wearing his (admittedly) weak disguise, he furtively moved through the vast medical complex of the station. Every time a nurse or doctor passed by, he made to stop at a door and look carefully at the label, or lifted a PADD to his face as if studying a chart. Heart thumping with the tension of his pathetic ruse, Maxwell slunk through one twisted hallway after another, with one clear goal in mind. Find his friend.:: ::Todd did a double take as he followed a man along the corridor acting a little strangely. He seemed a bit skittish and kept stopping to check things. With a smirk he realised who it was and what he was up to. Thinking that his farce had seemed to go mostly unnoticed, and finally starting to feel that he might get away with the ruse, Maxwell jumped when he felt a firm hand clasp down on his shoulder. :: Manius: Nice try buddy. Manius: oO If he’d called I’d have given him an update. Oo Traenor: What? Hey, Doc! What’s up? Imagine seeing you here… ::affecting an obviously forced jovial tone:: Manius: You know, if you’d asked I’d have happily told you that Renos is now awake and accepting visitors… Traenor: Oh. Yeah. Well, I knew that… Manius: Of course that’s why you didn’t don a disguise and try to sneak yourself in. :: His tone was flat and totally serious. Part of him couldn’t understand how the man was smart enough to get to Lieutenant Commander and even be given the opportunity to serve as acting first officer - but didn’t have the sense to call in for a status report. He was either too smart for his own good or missing his friend to the point of not thinking too clearly. The other part was amused and impressed that Traenor cared enough about Renos to try and sneak his way in to see nem. :: ::Embarrassed by the obvious lie he had just told someone who could see right through it, Maxwell cleared his throat noisily and shoved the awkwardly held medical tricorder into the pocket of the ill-fitting lab coat.:: Traenor: ::harrumphing:: Well then, is there any chance you can point me towards nir room? ::Led to the door of the private suite where Renos was housed, Traenor found himself pausing just outside. He had heard the stories, the descriptions of the terrible state that ne had been in when they had retrieved nem from the enemy warship. He feared his reaction to what he would find when he lay eyes on his friend for the first time since the debilitating injuries had been incurred. The all-too familiar warring emotions since nir abduction bubbled up within him again, those of abject fear of loss, and also of indescribable rage towards those who would do such a thing to Renos. Both emotions were ones that very seldom reared themselves within the normally jovial, easygoing man, so their presence together at this time were almost paralyzing. Taking a deep breath in a mostly successful attempt to steel himself, Maxwell poked his head in through the doorway.:: Traenor: ::quietly:: Renos, are you awake? ::finally seeing nem alive, in the flesh, his emotions boiled over:: Oh, my gods. My dear friend. :: Renos’s spirits immediately rose to see Gordie and ne gave him a small, goofy grin. Ne’d missed him more than any other while held prisoner on Raikenoff’s ship and worried about never seeing him again. The captain had realised their friendship was the strongest personal connection ne had. :: Renos: Gordie you have no idea how happy I am to see you again… ::Whether it was truly nir state, or a projection of Traenor’s own thoughts as to Renos’s vulnerability, all Maxwell could see was a frail, damaged J’naii in the place of the idealized strong, stoic captain that stood large in his mind. Without thought to propiety or consequence, Maxwell swooped into the room and collected Renos in a large, smothering hug.:: Traenor: ::voice muffled and choked, face pressed against nir shoulder:: Don’t you ever leave me again like that! :: Caught unawares Renos was too slow to wrap nir arms around him and hug him back but ne didn’t realise how much ne needed the hug until ne was wrapped in it. The J’naii really didn’t want it to end. Renos didn’t know what to think but the little spark of hope ne held seemed to grow and burn more fiercely in nir heart.:: ::Letting go and stepping back, Maxwell blinked in shock and modesty for his Freudian slip. Clearing his tear-choked throat unsuccessfully, he nervously smoothed the hospital gown’s shoulders where he had ruffled them and spoke again in a gruff voice.:: Traenor: Us. Don’t you ever leave us again like that. :: The J’naii’s heart beat with excitement and ne suddenly felt uncharacteristically nervous. Just what was ne thinking? Pushing down nir emerging feelings before they had a chance to be recognised or dashed ne replied hastily and bashfully. :: Renos: Yeah, yeah, I’ll try not to make a habit of it. ::Chuckling nervously:: :: The gruff medic smirked at the pair of them and shook his head. He’d taken note of the Captain’s increased heart rate and was interfering early. :: Manius: Okay cuddles back it up. The Captain’s got a heart condition and doesn’t need people throwing themselves at nem. Renos: ::A little irritably:: Watch your mouth Todd, that’s out of line. There’s no need to be so rude. If anyone’s causing a strain on my heart around here its you. Traenor: No, he’s right, Renos. We need you to heal, and come back to us soon. We’ll have time enough to talk later. For now, I’m just happy to see you up and about. ::His words were simple enough, but Maxwell could feel what was left unspoken between the lines. He had admitted a dependency on Renos’s presence more than even he had realized before, a close friendship that bordered on family. No, he amended, just like family. And, he noted with satisfaction that he hadn’t been rebuffed. This wasn’t a conversation to be held in front of Manius anyways, it could wait for a more appropriate time.:: :: Renos let out a long exasperated sigh. Ne wasn’t upset with Gordie for agreeing with Todd, rather ne wished Todd hadn’t spoiled the moment. He’d barely arrived but was set to flee already. It was almost too much to bear. Ne wanted him to stay awhile, to tell him how much he’d been missed and reach out to take his hand but that hardly seemed appropriate. :: Renos: Well thanks for stopping by. Traenor: Any time, my friend, and I’ll be back soon. TBC Captain Renos - Commanding Officer, USS Darwin NCC-99312-A and guest starring PNPC Dr Manius - Medic FWPA 2015 Co-Facilitator =/\= Publicity Team Facilitator A238805EB0 ~and~ LtCmdr Maxwell Traenor - Acting First Officer, USS Darwin NCC-99312-AGraphic Contest Taskforce =/\= Publicity TeamA239111MT0
  13. ((Morgue, Deck 576, Starbase 118)) ::Solok approached the Tellarite deliberately but with caution, as one ought always to approach Tellarites.:: Solok: Doctor. ::Fargit was standing atop a short stool, immersed -- quite literally -- in his work. He was poring over the innards of what seemed to be roughly 43% of a person, charred beyond visual recognition. His short snout occasionally pressed into what seemed like it must once have been a pelvis of some sort, but the coroner did not seem to mind. Death was his work, and he took his work seriously. Solok was not offended by that.:: Solok: Doctor Fargit. ::Fargit did not look up.:: Fargit: Hairline fracture, tertiary node, pelvis. Likely caused by traumatic impact with a large object. ::He stood slightly, his face now visible, his fatigue clear.:: Like a starship deck, or corridor wall, or bulkhead, or some such. Hnh. Cause of death ... ::He looked up, his eyes glinting somewhat, his gaze steadily meeting Solok's.:: .. what should it be, eh? Solok: I -- Fargit: I'd say blunt force trauma, but as you can see, ha, uh, this poor fellow is without a head. Immolation? Smoke inhalation? Tripped getting out of the sonic shower? It's anybody's guess, really. ::Solok looked grim. Solok always looked grim, but in the morgue, it was somehow both more fitting and more difficult to bear. That is, unless you were Fargit.:: Solok: I see. Fargit: Harrumph. ::It was a long moment before either man spoke again.:: Solok: Doctor -- Fargit: Computer, register cause of death for Case Number 453-F as "undetermined." ::The computer chirped acknowledgement.:: So many of 'em are undetermined. Takes the fun out of it, really. Solok: Doctor Fargit, I have come to assist with the autopsies. Fargit; Assist? Don't you mean "oversee"? ::Solok looked around the room. The bodies had been arranged neatly, and were clearly organized according to some principle Solok had yet to discern. The medical examiner's assistants, as well as other medical staff reassigned temporarily to the morgue, were making rapid and efficient progress. It was ... impressive.:: Solok: Oversight appears to be unnecessary. Fargit; Ha. A compliment. ::He paused, his nostrils flaring slightly.:: I think I'll be filing for a transfer. Solok: A transfer? Fargit: If you're going to be this rude, I'll definitely have to find somewhere else to work. ::He shuffled off toward another gurney, one of his Terran assistants following him with the stool.:: Solok: It was not my intention to give offense. Fargit: Exactly! ::Turning to his assistant, who made the stool ready, Fargit stepped up onto it. He was still a full foot shorter than Solok.:: Computer, open file Case Number 454-B. ::Laying on the gurney between them was the badly burned body of what appeared to have been a Terran female. Solok could not tell for certain by visual inspection alone.:: Solok: Doctor, I require some information. Do you yet know if any Flaxians were among the deceased? Fargit: Ha. Harrumph. Hnh. ::He fiddled with his tricorder.:: The body has been destroyed by fire. Or heat. It's the heat that kills you, anyway. Plasma burns? I don't know. Fifth and sixth degree burns over the whole body. Had to be near enough the explosion to get the full heat of the blast, but far enough away not to have been disassembled by the concussive force. Hm. Yep. The fire killed this one. Or the heat, anyway. Computer, register cause of death for Case Number 454-B as "immolation." I'd rather say "smoke inhalation," for the families. Sounds better. Probably hurts just the same, though. ::Solok didn't know if Fargit was talking about the deceased, or her family.:: Solok: Doctor -- ::His commbadge chirped.:: Udas: =/\= Udas to Doctor Solok and Lieutenant Matthews. Please report to the Security Office on Deck 1067. No time for updates now, but I need your expertise once we arrive. =/\= Solok: =/\= Understood. =/\= ::Solok closed the comm link, then made as if to depart the morgue.:: Fargit; No. ::Solok stopped.:: Solok: I do not understand, Doctor. Fargit: We did a DNA sweep when the bodies were first deposited in the morgue. Saves us a lot of time with identifications later, especially since anyone with a Starfleet history -- friend or foe -- is already in the system. We've got Andorians, and Klingons, and Tellarites, and humans -- a right mess of humans. Even a few Vulcans, I'm happy to report. ::He almost smiled.:: But nary a single Flaxian. ::The coroner turned back to his work. Solok paused, then spoke very carefully.:: Solok: You are almost certainly aware, Doctor, that you are essentially an aggregate of organic compounds wasted in their present form, masquerading as an incompetent excuse for a medical examiner, and Starfleet would be much improved by your absence. ::The Vulcan then turned and departed, headed the same way the Bynars had gone, minutes earlier.:: ::Fargit, for his part, smiled, then spoke under his breath.:: Fargit: Sweet-talker. === Lieutenant Commander Solok Acting Chief Medical Officer Starbase 118 Ops R237908S10
  14. ((Q Continuum)) ::She smirked with amusement.:: Q: So much for the exchange of rooks. Quana: I don’t follow your meaning. :: She looked at her with a raised eyebrow.:: Q: You obviously weren’t paying attention, were you? Quana: Not particularly. Like I said, they need conflict and you refuse to provide anything worth while. Q: Conflict is more than the physical drama. It is mental as well. Despite their simplicity, they are quite adaptable. ::She flicked her fingers and a view of Aron Kells appeared before them.:: Q: He navigated his challenge rather well I think. :;glances at Quana.:: No, you can’t have him. Quana: Wasn’t planning to ask. Instead, I’ll merely pointed out that you told your king the aim of the game - or, for your clarification, you *cheated*. ::She crossed her arms, a scowl on her face.:: I demand a *real* scenario. All your people have had it easy - I’ve put mine through all acceptable conflicts. Those on the Invicta should do the same. You can start with your queen, since I started with mine. ::Q laughed in the face of her companion.:: Q: Need I remind you of the rules we agreed on? Quana: I’m sure you will anyway. Q: There was no stipulation of the severity of the scenario. I prefer mental challenge, considering how fragile their bodies are. Telling them what is at stake, is part of the challenge. Fear works well with this species. Quana: Then *challenge* them. You have a queen with a failed “slipstream” experiment, my rook and yours beside her - what better hurdle to overcome? And should something happen, you always have your bishop to fall back on. ::The smile faded from her face.:: Q: Do not presume to tell me what challenges to use, Q. That was our agreement. Quana: *Your* agreement. I never agreed to such terms. ::She leaned forward.:: Do you really want to play a boring game? I know what you’re doing here - you think you can beat me by sticking to your own rules, claim all my collection for the continuum, but believe me. I’m quite capable of forfeiting the game, taking all the remainder of my collection and just build it back up. You’re not going to win this round if you don’t *challenge your pieces*. ::Her eyes narrowed slightly.:: Q: I find your need to “collect” boring. The Continuum does not want your collection. We agreed to these games in order to avoid taking unilateral action. ::She paused. She had thought most of her race had left behind these needs aeons ago. It was the younger Q that brought chaos.:: Q: If I win… you stop collecting. Quana: That requires a few conditions. ::Her hands clasped behind her back, a coy smile on her lips.:: No cheating from this point forward, no ridiculously easy scenarios. Pitting piece against piece. None of this “for their safety” nonsense. If you’re truly concerned for them, place them in a case when they’re removed from the board instead of allowing their obliteration. ::She laced her fingers together as she stared at her companion.:: Q: I find it hard to fathom the words that had just come out of your mouth. ::pause:: You expect me to play a game where you set all the rules? ::pause:: For all the good it did you last time. Quana: Well then you have nothing to worry about, do you? oO I could have been basking in the heart of a star. Instead I’m doing this. Oo Q: We shall see. ===== Q (simmed by Lieutenant Raissa Moonsong) and Quana (simmed by Lieutenant Commander Tristam Core)
  15. ((Holodeck 1, USS Darwin-A)) :: Since the last shore leave, Valdivia had been attending to Kaigut classes, taught by Captain Renos nemself. The other attendant had been Rennyn. Renos was in a coma and Rennyn was getting transferred, which left Valdivia a bit alone on that. He wondered whether the Captain would be willing to continue the classes with just one student, once ne recovered. :: :: Until then, however, he was willing to keep practicing, even if there were no classes he still had the holodeck. :: Valdivia: oO Fold, chambering, refold, recovery. Oo :: The problem was, at his current level, practicing could only mean repeating the same series of kicks once and again against an static holographic opponent. :: Valdivia: oO Fold, chambering, refold, recovery. Oo :: Doll would be more accurate, it was completely white with a red line to mark the body and the articulations. :: Valdivia: oO Fold, chambering, refold, recovery. Oo :: There were basically three kicks Valdivia more or less controlled. And then several that he had seen and practiced a few times, but he wasn't sure enough about his level to be practising them. :: Valdivia: oO Fold, chambering, refold, recovery. Fold, chambering, refold, recovery. Oo :: He started alternating the different kicks, creating random patterns on his head. He wasn't even sure he was doing them right, and there was no one there to check. :: Valdivia: oO This is stupid. Oo :: He stopped, took several deep breaths to recover, and started thinking. :: Valdivia: Computer, are there partice programs available for kaigut? Computer: Affirmative. :: Valdivia checked the list the computer offered. :: Valdivia: Run beginner level practice. :: A second doll appeared, and a J'naii uniformed for kaigut, that acted as sensei. Valdivia moved next to nem. :: Hologram: Low kick. :: Valdivia started a series of low kicks, aimed at the knee, following the rithm of the holographic sensei. :: Valdivia: oO Fold, chambering, refold, recovery. Oo :: Counting on the program to tell him to stop, he didn't count the series, but they probably did about sixty, changing side after each ten. :: Hologram: Middle kick. :: That was a bit harder, Valdivia was still struggling with keeping his balance for the recovery. :: Valdivia: oO Fold, chambering, refold, recovery. Oo Hologram: Recovery, try to keep your balance. :: Another attempt. :: Hologram: Recovery, try to keep your balance. Valdivia: oO Shut up. Oo Hologram: Recovery, try to keep your balance. :: It was clear than the program was exactly that, a computer program. He detected one flaw in his kick and repeated the same message. Which became even more frustrating that his own realizing of the flaw. :: Valdivia: oO Fold, chambering, refold, recovery. Oo Hologram: Recovery, try to keep your balance. Valdivia: SHUT UP! Agh, you are not Renos! :: Frustrated, he stormed out of the holodeck, with a new reason for hoping for Renos speedy recovery added to an already long list. :: Valdivia: End program! Lt. John Valdivia - Science Officer - USS Darwin-A D238701JV0
  16. ((USS Darwin-A, Deck 8, Shuttlebay)) ::Iniko tightened another bolt on the port driver coil and rechecked jheas calibrations. Still not quite perfect, but jhe didn’t think jhe could get the mismatched parts to align any better than that. Jhe had spent the last hour getting the coils within acceptable safety margins. This had seemed like a great idea at the time, but it was taking a lot of work to get all these parts to work together, and jhe was starting to have misgivings that it was even possible. Jhe called up to see how jheas partner was getting on.:: Mpeba: Any luck up there? ::In the [...]pit, Ren was fussing with the control layout. Their plan to combine parts from many disparate origins into their dream ship was turning out to be more like a nightmare. Even after centuries of peace between their makers, Andorian wires and Tellarite voltage regulators still didn’t get along. Anyway, it was easy to hear Iniko from below, considering how few floor panels they’d managed to install.:: Rennyn: We’re getting there! ::The Trill’s optimistic assessment sounded strained. His constant belief that everything would turn out for the best was being put to the test, and his good intentions were stretched thin by the lack of successes their project had seen so far. Not to mention the disappointments they’d suffered together in their last misison.:: Mpeba: Would you give the impulse engines a flick and let me know what happens? Rennyn: You got it. ::Sounding tired after all the struggles with the little monster they planned to enter in the Deep Space 6 Shuttle Race, Ren flipped the switch, then looked down through a section of open floor to see what Iniko thought of the progress.:: ::Iniko moved jheas hands out of the way, making sure jhe wasn’t touching anything when it started. The noises coming out of the little shuttle were much louder than they ought to be, with too many things slightly out of tune. There was no knocking or wobbling, though, that was something. Jhe shook jheas head ruefully. That was a terrible standard to be holding jheaself to. “Probably not going to shake itself to bits the moment it leaves shuttle bay” was not going to cut it. Jhe glared at the offending part, trying to will it into acquiescence. When that failed, jhe crawled out from underneath the shuttle and climbed up into the [...]pit, slumping down in the copilot seat.:: Mpeba: You can turn it off now. Not good enough. ::In the pilot’s seat, Ren did a little slumping himself, sitting back from the control board, not sure he ever wanted to see another self-tracking LCARS illumination filament as long as he lived. He usually had an easy smile to smooth over rough situations, but he couldn’t even fake a lopsided smirk through the frustration he was feeling.:: Rennyn: This is going about as well as a targ at a tea party. I don’t know if we can get any more of this junk to work. ::To emphasize the point, he dropped a spanner. It clattered away farther than he’d planned, down through the open deck plating, to some place down below.:: Shoot. Mpeba: It isn’t really . . . ::sigh:: No, it really is that bad. These things just aren’t made to work together. Rennyn: I’m usually not one to call it quits, but I don’t know about all this. You know, I’m just about to haul off and lose my temper with this lowlife batch of broken down-- ::He trailed off, biting his lip. Ren hadn’t lost his temper recently. An incident on his previous ship had landed him in a mess of hot water over a fit-to-be-tied outburst he’d unleashed against a fellow officer. Ren still thought it had been justified, but one mandatory review course in Federation diplomacy later, and he knew there were more effective, more reasonable ways to deal with frustration. He’d done so successfully with Eleene, the administrator at the Zakdorn factory. But how to reason with a bunch of malfunctioning misfit machines?:: Mpeba: Maybe we should give it a little break? I mean, we’ve been spending all our downtime on this thing, and maybe we’ll be able to think of something if we leave it alone for a bit? ::They were falling behind on their alright very tight timetable, but jhe felt like they were beating their heads against a stone wall. They had been spending so much time here that even when jhe fell into bed at night all jhe saw were conduits and wires. Stepping back might delay them a bit, but jhe was starting to think they wouldn’t finish at this rate anyway.:: ::Ren considered it carefully. He was tired, and he was cranky, and he was looking for a fight with this slapped-together ship and its myriad malfunctioning parts. He was probably going to lose his cool if he didn’t calm down. The way Mpeba had lost it with Eleene in the factory, while Ren stood by playing the diplomat. He had no diplomatic inclinations toward this shuttle. Not unless diplomacy included kicking the dang fool thing’s dirty rotten--:: Rennyn: Yes. ::The Trill knew he was acting like an oversized baby. He wanted a nap, and he wanted life to be less overwhelming. He wanted this to be easier. After what they’d been through at the Zakdorn disaster site, the death they’d seen, the damage they hadn’t been able to prevent, he wanted something to go well. To be easy just for once.:: ::Iniko bent over and rested jheas head in jheas hands. Jhe thought it ought to feel like a weight had been lifted, but jhe really just felt slightly disappointed at the thought of walking away. The project was truly frustrating, but at the thought of letting it go, even temporarily, jhe just felt a little sad.:: ::For both their sakes, a win just now was exactly what they needed. Ren stretched his arms up high above him and inhaled sharply, shaking his head against the thought of quitting and changing his mind in an instant.:: Rennyn: No. If I stop now, I’m going to want to just chuck it. I’m going to crawl in bed and forget about this for days to come. I just know it. I’m not going to come back to this. ::He ran his hands over the console. They had to pull it together. They had to make it happen.:: Rennyn: We’ve got to keep going. ::Iniko quirked an eyebrow at him and laughed in surprise, despite jheas frustration. That actually made jhea feel a little bit better.:: Mpeba: Alright, then. Any strategies? ::Ren leaned all the way back in his chair and rested his hands over his eyes, fingers resting on the bridge of his nose in contemplation. Thumbs ran over his spotted temples as he tried to think what to do. They’d pieced together a half-built shuttle out of parts from all over known space. A Cardassian plasma manifold. A Bajoran warp coil. Cold gray Saurian deck plates laid over orange Ferengi beams. It was a Frankenstein’s monster of a ship. The parts they’d collected were diverse, and shouldn’t have worked. They didn’t work, not in the elegant, beautiful way they’d planned.:: Rennyn: A lot happened on that planet. A lot of things… fell apart. ::He looked Iniko in the eyes, and his own spoke volumes about what they’d seen. The haunting, pervasive presence of death that couldn’t fully be left behind.:: We did our best down there, but it didn’t all work according to plan. ::Iniko frowned at the memory. Why was he bringing that back up? Jhe was trying desperately to forget everything about that mission. The explosions, and toxin, the horrific cruelty involved in setting it all off, and the futility of trying to extract anything whole out of that mess.:: Mpeba: I’m not sure where you’re going with this. Rennyn: These pieces shouldn’t work together. They’re not working. But we still have the opportunity to make something out of it, maybe ugly, but whole and functional. Right now, I feel like all my optimism’s been sucked out at one go. This might be a way to turn that around. This is our chance to pick up the pieces and put something together. ::Jhe nodded slowly. This could be a sort of therapy, then. Making something new might combat those lingering feelings of guilt and inadequacy. The harder the task, the better. As long as it could actually be accomplished.:: Mpeba: My optimism is shot, too. I’m having trouble seeing it working out. But . . . I think you’re right. I think it’s worth doing. ::It seemed to be so. Despite exhaustion, both mental and emotional, this was their chance to feel renewed. They were building something fresh and new. It would do wonders for their morale. It would be beautiful.:: ((A few days later)) ::They stood back and surveyed their handiwork. It was ugly. Unbelievably ugly. But it worked! Mostly. There were some finicky components. The transporter couldn’t be engaged while artificial gravity was on, and the lights flickered whenever shields were put up to maximum. Reconfiguring the console layout while thrusters were engaged caused the starboard drive to cut out completely. Iniko was at a complete loss as to what was causing that particular fault. But it would fly like a beast, as long as nothing fell off. And they were out of time, so that would have to do.:: Mpeba: I can’t believe we actually did it. Rennyn: Our baby. ::It wasn’t pretty, but it was theirs, and the sense of pride they’d hoped to feel after all their efforts was undeniably present.:: Mpeba: You were right, you know. I do feel better. About things in general, I mean. Making this heap of scrap metal actually fly . . . well, I feel like I’ve actually accomplished something. ::Ren smiled at Iniko. He was feeling a little better, too. While the regrets of their mission to Zakdorn would never fully go away, building this ship had done something to rebuild their confidence.:: ::The Trill’s smile melted when he turned back to look once again at the shuttle. A shudder ran through him.:: Rennyn: Oh, it’s ugly! Mpeba: I don’t really think the name “Monster” is appropriate, anymore, though, you know. It’s so . . . fragile. Rennyn: Our baby. Our ugly, ugly baby… Mpeba: Should we call it that, then? “Ugly Baby”. ::Ren looked sideways at Iniko, not sure what to think. He nodded slowly, then a smile spread across his face, then he found himself laughing. After all the stress of the last mission and the intense concetration it took to build this ship, it felt good to find something funny.:: Rennyn: “Ugly Baby.” That sounds like a ship that can get the job done! ::The ship was built, and it wasn’t beautiful, but it was still something special. The construction was complete. All that remained was the see how it would fly.:: Lieutenant JG Mpeba - Engineering Officer, USS Darwin NCC-99312-A D239205IM0 and LtCmdr Ren Rennyn - HCO Officer, USS Darwin NCC-99312-A A239102RR0
  17. ((South Wing, Factory Complex - Zakdorn)) :: The Zakdorn elder walked slowly, his leg hurt. And his chest burned with every breath he took, probably due to the toxins he had inhaled. They were slowly leaving the facility, Starfleet officers had left and everything was now in Zakdorn hands. He slowly walked, while the flow of people walked faster and past him. :: Nalurn: Thanks... for everything... :: Through the pain and cough, he was talking to Airun, the young girl that had not separated from him since the initial explosion. He was walking now mainly thanks to her, that let him lean on her for support. :: Airun: You did way more to save all of us. :: The boys in their section, mostly young teenagers. He had tried to coordinate them until rescue arrived. Apparently they were all alive. But they were waiting for the cure to arrive. Thinking of the toxin, another cough fit rocked through his body. His vision started to blur, and he felt his balance failing. :: Airun: HEEELP! SOMEBODY! PLEASE! :: His vision blurry, he could hear the girl calling for help as he fell. And then, a sharp pain on his head. And darkness. :: ((Improvised Hospital in Town Hall, Nearby town, Zakdorn)) :: He woke up slowly. He felt a dull pain in his head, and his mind was struggling to understand where he was. He was lying on something soft, and could hear voices all around him. People crying, people shouting, movement, pain. :: :: Slowly, he opened his eyes to see a familiar face looking at him. Mareen, the woman he had loved for all his live. :: Nalurn: My love... Mareen: You are awake. :: He could see the sadness in the eyes of the old woman. :: Nalurn: What... :: Talking was painful. Luckily, Mareen could always understand his line of thought with nothing but the first words. : Mareen: You collapsed due to the intoxication. The people from the rescue team carried you here. :: He tried to incorporate, but his world became blurry again and he fell back on his makeshift bed. :: Nalurn: How bad is it? :: She didn't answer. Zuin had a brilliant mind, even in that state, and there was no way that she would be able to hide it. But she felt incapable of pronouncing the words. :: Nalurn: I'm... dying. Mareen: They say you refused treatment. You inhaled too much, and it is too late. Nalurn: I... the young... Mareen: I know. :: She knew. The young ones took priority when they were in the triage center. :: Nalurn: Village... Mareen: I know. :: She also knew. For Zuin, evacuating the village should have had preference over helping the facility. :: Nalurn: I'm too old... Mareen: I know that, too. :: Zuin knew he was old, even with a full treatment his chances of survival were slim at best. For him, getting help to other workers with greater chance of survival was the strategically right thing to do. She had loved him, she had loved his strategic mind all their life. A brilliant mind that had been at some point recognized among the ten best in Zakdorn, making him minister to the Stratigo for a mandate. :: Mareen: You... you didn't... have to... :: It was only obvious that if that brilliant mind ever reached the conclusion that the best course of action involved sacrificing himself, he would do that without doubt. She could not fault him for that. :: Nalurn: Don't cry... in... :: He could not talk. But it was too late, she was already crying. :: Mareen: I know. In the battle of Zash they lost because they were crying and their concentration was diminished. :: It was a story he liked to tell their children and grandchildren to teach them Zakdorn should not cry because that prevents clear though. The fact that in the battle of Zash the enemy used tear gas didn't seem to nullify his conclusions. At least not as a teaching parable. :: :: Unable to answer, the old man smiled and nodded, slowly. He had been so lucky all his life to have someone like her at his side. She understood him, she had a brilliant mind of her own even if she had never been appointed a minister. Although she would say her ability had more to do with empathy that strategy. :: Nalurn: Sell the... our children... :: Sell our house here, go back to the farm with our eldest child and their family. With the money for the house here, you can have a good life there, and our daughter look after you. :: Mareen: I know. Just... turn that mind of yours off at least for your last minutes with me. :: She slowly leaned and kissed him in the lips, trying to hold the tears. :: Nalurn: Hold... my... :: Another fit of cough took grasp of him. He could barely talk, his body hurt, and everything was blurry. He was feeling sleepy, and he wanted to rest. :: Mareen: I know. I will. :: She would hold his hand and let him rest his head on her lap, like she used to do when he was minister and was prone to long sleepless nights due to the stress of the job. :: :: Comparatively to the stress of those years, dying was relaxed work, Zuin Nalurn thought. Holding her hand, he though he needed some rest. And he felt he had earned it. Sleepy, he closed his eyes one last time. :: END ((OOC: Not everyone could have a happy ending.)) MSPNPC Zuin Nalurn Resource allocation supervisor Zakdorn Industrial Facility as simmed by Lt. John Valdivia - Science Officer - USS Darwin-A D238701JV0
  18. ((OOC: I’m making a new word, “lom” to be the diminutive casual equivalent of “boy/girl” for a lomale. This takes place later on, the day after the card game.)) ((Deep Space 6, Promenade)) ::The public call center on Deep Space 6 was nearly empty. Iniko could walk right in and make a call, no waiting in line. Jhe could also have simply made the call from jheas room on the Darwin. But that would have given too much away. Jhe turned away, thinking to put it off again. Jhe had already walked away twice before, unable to face this meeting. But jhe was running out of shore leave, and jhe suspected that this might be the last time jhe would try. If jhe couldn't go through with it this time, jhe didn't think jhe ever would. Fine, then. Just do this one step at a time.:: ::Jhe approached the desk and asked for a private booth to make a call. Yes, real time. Yes, out of the system. To Duronis II. That name still felt odd in jheas mouth. Like jhe was mimicking someone else's voice, trying to fit in. Then again, wasn't that what jhe was doing? Jhe still didn't feel like jhe really belonged here in the galaxy at large, so far from home. Jhe added a final request, that the call be untraceable. It might be paranoia, but jhe wasn't going to risk everything on this call going well. The attendant stood and ushered jhea into a small booth, closing the curtains behind her as she left.:: ::Iniko turned around, examining the room for any giveaways and finding it reassuringly generic. There was a mirror to the right of the screen to allow patrons to check their appearance before connecting. Jhe frowned at the dull brown cloak jhe wore, but it would elicit no comment from jheas mother, and that was its entire purpose. Jhe pulled the hood up to cover jheas short hair. It didn't hide it entirely, but hopefully it would be enough to forestall comment. Jhe turned to the console and took a deep breath. The painful flutter of anxiety in jheas stomach only increased, but jhe couldn't delay this anymore. A button flashed green, indicating the call was ready to connect, and jhe reached out to press it before jhe could think of another reason to back out. Jheas heart froze and jhe stopped breathing. Jheas stomach tried to turn inside out. The few seconds of waiting for the call to be picked up took weeks.:: ::Chioma's face appeared on the screen, older than the last time they'd spoken. Her eyes widened in shock and she simply stared at Iniko in frozen open-mouthed disbelief for a minute or two. Iniko plastered a hopeful smile on jheas face. Jheas blood thundered loudly in jheas ears until jhe was worried jhe wouldn't be able to hear her when she finally spoke.:: Iniko: Hi Mom. ::Chioma blinked rapidly and finally a brilliant smile spread across her face. Iniko felt jheaself tense even further, and jhe leaned back away from the screen. It was terrible that a smile made jhea feel even more apprehensive, but it only made jhea realize how much jhe still had to lose. Jhe wasn't ready for this. Jhe shouldn’t have decided to do this, jhe could have put it off a little longer, but now it was too late and there was no escaping and it was all happening too fast.:: Chioma: Iniko? Is it really you? Iniko: It's me, Mom. How are you and Dad doing? ::It was a desperate attempt to try to avoid talking about jheaself, and jhe knew it had no hope of succeeding.:: Chioma: Oh we're fine, but we've been so worried about you! You never contacted us. It's been years since we've had any word from you! How could you make us worry like that? ::Chioma’s scolding made Iniko feel like a child again, and jhe winced. Jhe didn't have any excuse to give her, not any that she would want to hear at least. Jheas voice when jhe responded sounded whiny and defensive in jheas own ears.:: Iniko: Effiom made sure you knew I was okay. You didn't need to be worried. Chioma: ::scoffing:: You told Effiom you were okay. That boy doesn't know anything about what a lom needs to be okay. You could have been- Iniko: Mom! ::jhe interrupted, not wanting jheas brother to get dragged into this:: I really have been fine. Everything is fine. I'm really very happy right now. I just wanted to . . . ::Jhe trailed off, not really knowing why jhe had called. There had been some vague hope of maybe reconciling, maybe actually being able to talk again. Properly talk, like family, like they used to, without the bickering and haranguing. Without the constant looks of incomprehension.:: Chioma: Nonsense, child. How can you be happy without your family? Without the coven? Without fulfilling the purpose you were born to? Unless ::her eyes lit up, and her voice took on an eager lilt:: you've found a new coven, haven't you? It isn't the same, of course. Who knows what sort of strange ideas they have there. But as long as you're still serving your calling, I suppose it's okay. Iniko: No, Mom, I . . . I couldn't keep doing that. I tried to tell you, I just couldn't do it. I . . . I've taken a job as an engineer on a starship. ::Jhe hadn’t meant to make that last admission, but the words came out in a rush. Chioma stared blankly at jhea for a moment, then her face turned blotchy red and she stared at Iniko in disbelief. When she spoke her voice was a whisper.:: Chioma: An engineer . . . what? You’ve turned your back on the coven? You’ve gone so far astray? Did someone . . . ::her words dissolved abruptly into hiccuping sobs:: ::Iniko sighed and looked away, fighting down jheas guilt. Jhe was happy with Starfleet, and never would have been happy back there. There was just no way jhe could give in, no matter how it made jheas mother feel. Chioma had always believed that the outside influences from the rest of the galaxy would be the downfall of their civilization, and Iniko had gone and joined their ranks. Jhe knew it would be hard, but watching jheas mother cry, knowing it was jheas fault, was intense. Jhe should have just lied and made her happy. Kept quiet, just let her keep thinking whatever she wanted. It was too late for that now. Jhe squirmed uncomfortably, trying to think of something to make it better.:: Iniko: Look, I know you never understood, but you always knew this was what I wanted to do, right? Chioma: ::sniffing:: What did I do wrong? Did I not spend enough time with you, telling you about our traditions? Was it that school I sent you to? I knew I should have taught you at home. So many alien influences. Iniko: Why does this mean you did something wrong? I’m happy. I’m doing what I’ve always wanted to do. It’s a well respected career. Why does this have to be a bad thing? ::Iniko stared at her pleadingly, begging her to listen. To just try to understand. But she just shook her head angrily.:: Chioma: That’s ridiculous. This is no decent career for a lom, child. How could you turn your back on your people like this? It’s obscene! There’s no future for you in a place like that. I didn’t raise you to act like this. Gallivanting off into space, deserting your duty. This is ridiculous. You will come back home right now and leave this selfish nonsense behind. It isn’t just about you, you know. You have an essential part to play for your people. ::Iniko sat back, stunned. Jhe had known she would react badly, but jhe had hoped for some attempt at understanding. Expected that at least she would hear jhea out before declaring that jhe was wrong. Instead, she was simply shutting jhea out, refusing to believe jhe had anything useful to say. In that case, there was no more reason to continue the discussion. This call had been a failure, and a mistake to begin with. Jhe blinked back tears and set jheas shoulders, determined not to cry until this was over. Jheas words when jhe spoke were harsher than jhe meant, rough with unshed tears and anger.:: Iniko: Mother, I’m not coming home. I’m not a child anymore, and I have made my decision. Chioma: Listen to me- Iniko: NO! I could never have been what you wanted. I understand that now, why can't you? I’m just sorry I spent so long trying. Don’t try to find me. Just . . . just let me go if you can’t accept me. Goodbye. ::Jhe flicked off the transmission before Chioma could respond, and sat back, staring blankly at the black screen. There were no tears. Jhe was too shocked for that. Shocked at jheaself more than anything. Had jhe really just said all of that? Jhe had just shut down all possibility for communication between them. A shudder ran through jhea as jhe realized the finality of it all. It wasn’t too late, though. Jhe flicked a finger in an abortive gesture towards the call button. Jhe could reconnect the call, apologize . . . and then what? Go home? Submit to the coven again? Make some more babies, that jhe would never see? Fall in love, just to be rejected over and over again? No, what jhe had said to jheas mother was absolutely true. Jhe could not live that life. Jhe never should have tried.:: ::Iniko stood and left the call center in a daze, shrugging out of the heavy cloak. Jhe stuffed it into a recycler on the way back to the Darwin. No need for it anymore. Jhe had expected to feel rejected and bereft if this call didn’t go well. Jhe hadn’t expected to feel lighter. The finality of the separation took away a weight of uncertainty that jhe had been shouldering for far too long. There was nothing at all pulling jhea back now. Jhe truly was free.:: ::The removal of that weight had not been without cost, though. For all the years that jhe had lived without jheas mother’s input, jhe had always assumed that one day they would make up and she would understand. It was more a loss of hope than anything else that jhe was mourning right now. And it was mourning, jhe realized. Jhe noticed the tears streaming down jheas cheeks, and wondered how long jhe had been crying without noticing. Jhe ducked into a turbolift and held it. The sobbing, once jhe let go, shook jhea with surprising force, leaving jhea desperate for breath. Jhe felt lost and alone. Jheas emotions were a riot of guilt and anger and abandonment.:: oO Why couldn’t she try to understand? Why did I have to confront her and force her to make a choice when I knew she wasn’t ready? How could she be so stubborn?Oo ::Jhe slowly stopped shaking with sobs, exhausted rather than consoled. Jhe slid to the floor and hugged jheas knees close to jheas chest. Someone would want the turbolift soon, jhe couldn’t stay here long. Jhe scrubbed at jheas eyes, hoping to make jheas emotional state less obvious. Just need to get back to jheas room, then jhe could be alone for a while. Jhe hadn’t yet moved quarters, but Manius was staying on station to take care of the Captain, so jhe would have space. Jhe blew out a long breath and stood up. Jhe just needed to keep moving. Just keep taking one step after another, and soon the pain would be less raw. The guilt jhe wasn’t so sure about. Jhe couldn’t help but think that if jhe could have just kept quiet maybe they could have reconciled. It was wrong, jhe knew it, but it kept coming back, pounding away at jheas fragile composure. Maybe being alone now wasn’t the best idea. Jhe needed to find someone to talk to.:: Lieutenant JG Mpeba - Engineering Officer, USS Darwin NCC-99312-A D239205IM0
  19. (( Main Engineering, Deck 24, USS Columbia )) (( 0800 – The morning after the party )) :: Like the majority of Columbia’s crew, the newly promoted Lieutenant Theo Whittaker was still on shore leave. He was not due to report as Chief Engineering Officer until the order to rescind their scheduled downtime was officially given. Given his new position, however, there was much to be done in order to make the transition easier for his department and he did not want to have to juggle those pressing concerns with whatever mission the Nebula-class starship was assigned to next. Thusly, Theo found himself entering his new domain instead of making use of Starbase 118’s vast array of recreational facilities. Feeling that it would be wholly inappropriate to begin his new role in his civilian attire, he had donned his uniform- removing the solitary black pip and attaching the new gold one he had received from Commander Brek the previous evening. As he had left his quarters, he had replicated a cup of hot water with a slice of lemon and ginger root, his regular beverage. His entrance into engineering had been surreptitious. Never one to command or enjoy attention, he had wanted to avoid his presence causing “a fuss” as his mother would call it. Luckily, none of the engineering staff who had not been granted leave or the Starbase technicians had noticed his arrival. As he reached what the staff had colloquially coined “the office” (the space in front of and to the left of the warp core, which looked upon the powerful machine) he nodded to an unfamiliar technician likely from 118. The Bajoran woman returned the gesture and went back to inputting data into the console she was tending to. He sat down on a stool at the bank of consoles than ran the length of the dividing glass that cordoned off ‘the office’ from the warp core and set his mug down on the ledge above them after taking a sip and savouring its taste. Entering his new clearance code- what a novelty that was!- began to peruse the latest reports. It was all unremarkable fare, Lieutenant Stineman from astrophysics had filed a report for a broken replicator in his laboratory, Ensign K’Chak’Krrr’A wanted somebody to take a look at her sonic shower- who knew Pak’Shree showered!- and Crewman Laplex’Vrin wanted to enquire about installing a birthing chamber in his quarters as he was approaching budding season. He had scarcely been reviewing the request log for two minutes when the sound of footsteps approaching drew Theo’s attention towards the entrance to the office where a middle aged Ullian woman was stood, holding a PADD. She was enlisted, having a petty officer 2nd class badge on her collar. The hair at her pronounced temples was beginning to thin and turn white, slight wrinkles had begun to tug at the corners of her mouth and around her soft green eyes. Upon seeing him, her mouth curled into the beginnings of a smile. :: Tish: :: she spoke in soft tones that put Theo in mind of the voice his mother adopted whenever Theo injured himself as a small boy :: “Are you Lieutenant Whittaker?” Whittaker: “I am indeed. How can help you…?” :: he left the question hanging as Tish would have no choice but the identity herself. :: Tish: “Koytra Tish. Petty Officer 2nd Class Koytra Tish that is. I’ve been assigned to Columbia as an antimatter supply manifold specialist for about six months” :: She stepped into the office a fraction, but came no father. Ever a gentleman, Theo rose from the stool and extended his hand. She took it in hers and shook it :: Whittaker: “A pleasure to meet you”. :: he wondered why he had not encountered her before, but remembering her position, he realised that she had spent most of her six month tour thus far ensconced on Deck 29. Her’s was an exacting, unsung role, yet amongst the most vital on the ship due to the potentially catastrophic repercussions of working with a substance like antimatter :: Tish: :: she smiled warmly :: “I was sure you wouldn’t be here since you are on leave but I thought I would check anyway”. Whittaker: :: curious :: “Is there something that I can do you?” Tish: “Not at all sir. I just wanted to congratulate you on your promotion and new position”. :: As she beamed at him, Theo felt rather touched and he found himself reflecting how far he had come. Four months ago, almost to the very day, he was a nervous young ensign- unsure of what awaited him. Now he was a Lieutenant, decorated and the chief engineer of a frontline starship. That Commander Brek and, by extension Starfleet, would have such faith in him as to give him such a crucial position aboard the Columbia… it was almost overwhelming :: Whittaker: “Thank you very much crewman” :: this time, she extended her hand- rather sheepishly. He shook it again :: “Make sure you don’t stay on Deck 29 all of the time. We’d like to see you up here sometimes”. Tish: “Of course sir. If you’ll excuse me, I have to report for duty”. Whittaker: “Of course” :: Tish smiled at him again one last time and walked off, down engineering before rounding a corner and disappearing. He watched the Petty Officer as she went. It was a simple gesture, but it meant everything to him. He was about turn back into the office when he was struck with the sensation that he was being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and felt a shiver travel from the top of his head all the way down to his toes. While he managed to keep his sudden unease hidden from everybody, he cast his eyes around the large chamber. At first sight, everybody had their backs to him busy with their own work and all he could hear were the faint beeps and clicks common to the background noise of an engineering compartment. He then cast his eyes upwards towards the warp core and the second and tertiary levels that ran around the rough diameter of it. He caught sight of somebody disappearing behind the warp core. Given his recent experience at the hands of a being who claimed to be an Iconian, he could not blame himself as he felt a greater sense of trepidation. For the briefest of moments he was tempted to call for security, but common sense won out. It was unlikely that anybody could infiltrate the Columbia given that it was berthed at one of the Federation’s most secure outposts :: Whittaker: oO Not that it stopped that being Oo :: The figure emerged on the other side of the warp core and the new chief engineer saw Crewman T’Laris running scans of what appeared to be a deuterium inject assembly on the second level. She was studiously looking at the readings on her tricorder. Irrational as it may have been, Theo was certain that she had been staring at him moments before, He recalled her attitude the next before after he had tasked her returning some of his possessions to his quarters. She had been sharp… almost rude. Vulcans had a habit of coming across as abrupt, but Theo had thought at the time there was something more :: Whittaker: :: he called out :: “T’Laris-” :: she did not look up. He was not convinced that she had failed to hear him but he still increased the volume of his voice :: “T’Laris!” T’Laris: :: she did not look up from her device as she curtly replied :: “I can hear you Mr. Whittaker. I am presently collating readings of the deuterium injection assembly”. :: Mr. Whittaker? He would not have been surprised to hear Commander Brek or Doctor MacLaren call him that- after all they outranked him and it was expected. What was not expected was for one of his subordinates to call him that. He took a moment to reply as he bristled against what- in other- was tantamount to insubordination. :: Whittaker: :: he tried to keep the growing irritation from his voice :: “May I see you for a moment please?” :: There was no response from the engineer as she left her tricorder resting on the rail in front of her and made her way to the small lift that brought her down to the same level as Theo. Watching her keenly he looked for any sign that something was wrong. She moved with grace, her ponytail bobbing gently as she went. Her porcelain face and cool hazel eyes were impassive, a mask of equanimity. She came to a halt before Theo and placed her hands behind her back. Approximately three inches taller than he, Theo tilted his head slight to look at her, schooling his features into his own facade of calmness. In reality he wanted nothing more than grind his jaw in frustration :: Whittaker: :: evenly :: “Is everything alright?” T’Laris: “I am… eager to resume my work.” Whittaker: “I just wanted to check because you seemed somewhat… pointed at the beach party yesterday evening” T’Laris: “I am unaccustomed to large scale social gatherings. I prefer solitude and meditation.” Whittaker: “If that’s so, why did you attend?” T’Laris: :: matter of factly :: “I received an invitation and I felt it would be impolite to refuse”. :: He could not put his finger on what it was but there was something that did not ring true. He thought of pressing the matter, but until he was certain that there was an issue and not just the musings of Theo’s overactive imagination, he stayed his tongue and favoured the Vulcan with a small, but terse smile. :: Whittaker: Very well. Thank you crewman. :: As T’Laris turned her back, Theo could have sworn he saw a flash of emotion dance briefly across her face. Somewhat stunned, he stood there for several seconds considering it. He was sure he had imagined it, but then again- her attitude the previous night had suggested something more than her being socially anxious. He watched her return to her task. She never looked up from her tricorder but there was a spikiness about her that left him unsettled. Making his way back to ‘the office’ he resolved to keep a close eye on his Vulcan subordinate, but tried to remain hopeful that he was indulging himself in another bout of over-thinking :: Whittaker: oO You are just being silly Theo Oo :: He wished he could believe that :: -- Lieutenant Theo Whittaker Chief Engineering Officer USS Columbia NCC 85279 C239203TW0
  20. ((Yamaguchi-Bridge)) ::In all the confusion, Mary closed her eyes to stop the world around her. She smiled when the first thing that came to her mind was Adam Haase.:: ((Flashback - SD 239207.15)) ((USS Atlantis - Hallway en route to Shuttlebay)) ::Adam walked through the hallways where he’d spent the last six months of his life. It was his home, his shelter, his resting place. It was his sanctuary from the outside world - a place where nothing could really happen to him. It felt as if he was being torn from a friend, one who had protected him, and now in its time of need Adam was abandoning it. Continuing to the shuttlebay, Adam brushed his hands across the walls that he might never see again. Incidentally, he bumped into a walking Lt.JG. Fenelli. For those unaware, this might seem like nothing special - but for the last five months Mary had been paralyzed and unable to move without the use of a hoverchair.:: HAASE: ::Adam looked up from his PADD:: Well hello, Lieutenant! ::Mary bumped into Adam, someone in which she hadn’t seen in forever. She remembered the first time they had met, and she smiled. She wiggled both of her legs to show Adam that she was up and walking again. Many memories of the Atlantis filled Mary’s head and a tear or two slipped from her eye.:: FENELLI: ::Mary nodded.:: Lieutenant. ::Hearing the word Lieutenant spoken to her sounded very strange. Mary liked it though, she felt as if she was finally unafraid. Maybe she had just needed a rank change to chase away her fear.:: HAASE: ::Adam slipped a PADD into his back pocket:: It’s been quite some time! I see that you’re finally up and about. ::Adam smiled.:: Do you know which shuttle you’ve been assigned to yet? FENELLI: Feels good to be able to walk. I haven’t gotten my space legs back completely yet.::Mary looked at Adam and looked back down. She felt a strange feeling when he was next to her. Mary blushed realizing what that feeling was. She looked back up at Adam.:: As for the shuttle, I was assigned to the…::Mary quickly took a glance at her PADD.:: The Hawthorne. How about you? HAASE: ::Adam grinned:: Wow! What a coincidence. So am I! ::Adam picked up a small bag of luggage on the floor next to him, and placed the strap over his shoulder.:: Well, since we seem to be heading in the same direction, may I? ::Adam extended his arm:: FENELLI: Quite a gentlemen.::Mary moved her two bags of luggage to her other shoulder and placed her hand over Adam’s arm. oO If only he knew. Oo Mary had had a crush on Adam since she has first met him, it was like love-at-first-sight. Mary knew Adam couldn’t possibly feel the same way about her.:: ::Adam gently gripped her arm, and they began to make their way to the shuttlebay. Adam gazed over to Mary. He always had affection for her - but because of her condition it hadn’t really progressed any further. Now, they were both transferring out. Their ships had yet to be determined. Adam silently prayed that he would be placed with her. Continuing to their destination, Adam noticed an officer searching the floor for some odd reason. Adam stopped to see if he could assist in any way.:: HAASE: Um, excuse me. What exactly are you looking for? MOLINARY: ::stuttering in flustration:: M..my….Jeffrey. HAASE: Your….Jeffrey? MOLINARY: ::He began to head down the hallway, eyes glued to the floor:: Yes….my Jeffrey. My best friend. HAASE: This Jeffrey….was he an officer? MOLINARY: ::The man stopped and shot an annoyed glare in Adam’s direction.:: Of course not, stupid. He’s my pet mouse. HAASE: ::somewhat offended:: Alrighty. Can we help you find it? MOLINARY: No! You might step on him. ::Adam rolled his eyes.:: oO We might step on him whether we’re looking for it or not Oo HAASE: Okay. But if you need any help, just give me a call. ::The young man continued to work without giving any sign of recognition. Adam again extended his arm to Mary.:: HAASE: Shall we? ::Mary looked over her shoulder at the young man looking for his “best friend”. oO How strange, a pet as your best friend.Oo Mary looked to Adam and once again lightly placed her hand on his arm. A worried look filled her face. She was afraid she wouldn’t be on the same ship as him. He was one of the only reasons Mary got by when she first came aboard the Atlantis, how could she face moving to another ship that was without him?:: FENELLI: And away we go! ::Mary giggled and continued down the corridor with Adam. Mary wanted to ask him a question, she had wanted to ask him since the day they met. She finally decided now would be a good time to ask, but she couldn’t seem to get the words out. Instead, she stared at Adam with a blank expression on her face.:: ::Adam felt like skipping with joy and singing “Over the river and through the woods from Atlantis we will go!” but that would be totally uncalled for - and besides, It might be hard for Mary to keep up with all of her luggage. Instead, they slowly made their way to the shuttlebay, and boarded the Hawthorne.:: ((USS Atlantis - Shuttlebay - USS Hawthorne)) HAASE: Well, this will be our home for the next 13 hours until we dock at Starbase 118. Have any special requests before I throw my stuff on the floor? ::Adam snickered in amusement:: FENELLI: ::Mary shrugged her shoulders.:: Can you help me get my bags off? ::Mary pointed to her two luggage bags that hung over her arm. She smiled at Adam.:: Sorry, I don’t pack light. HAASE: ::under his breath:: Do any women? ::Adam grabbed the bags from Mary’s arms as well as his own and placed them into the storage locker. Turning around, he stood in awe as the man who was searching the floor had entered their craft:: HAASE: Your mouse isn’t in here, sir. MOLINARY: I know. ::He began to sob:: I was ordered to head to my shuttlecraft. HAASE: ::Surprised:: This is your shuttlecraft? MOLINARY: Yup. Hawthorne. HAASE: ::Adam looked to Mary and rolled his eyes. Sighing, he opened the storage locker:: Go ahead and place your stuff in here. ::The man complied, and Adam sat in the pilot’s seat:: FENELLI: ::Mary too rolled her eyes and sighed. oO Please keep all hands arms feet and legs inside the shuttlecraft. And you back there? Sit down, no crawling on the ground, and no talking.Oo Mary walked over to the tactical station and sat down next to Adam.:: If I fall asleep, don’t wake me up. HAASE: Oh, I won’t. ::Whispering to Mary:: But if he crawls under your seat, he might. ::Adam laughed under his breath:: FENELLI: Oh no..::Mary looked at the young man behind her and squinted at him.:: If he crawls under my seat, so help me I’ll…::Mary paused and stood up, still squinting at the young officer. She walked to the back of the shuttle and engaged the replicator.:: FENELLI: Computer, two german chocolate cakes. ::In an instant, the computer beeped and formed two perfectly crafted cakes. Mary licked her lips in delight. oO Come to Mama...Oo Mary picked up the cakes and walked back to her console, placing one in Adam’s lap.:: It’s not illegal to eat and drive…::Mary smiled at him and sat down.:: HAASE: ::Adam grunted with the weight of the cake.:: Perhaps not. ::He smiled.:: Do you think mouse man…::Adam stopped himself::...the Lieutenant back there would like one? FENELLI: ::Mary looked at the man that was just minutes ago on the floor searching for his best friend.:: Ugh…::Mary sighed. She was happy sitting next to Adam, but it was like he didn’t want to sit next to her. Mary frowned.:: He doesn’t look hungry. HAASE: Okay. ::Adam began to work on the console.:: Computer, estimated time to departure? COMPUTER: =/\= Approximately 10 minutes. =/\= HAASE: Well, we’ve got some time to spare. ::He looked down to his cake, ready to enjoy.:: But...I can’t eat this cake. I have no utensil. ::He looked to his fingers:: Well, they worked in primary school. ::Mary looked at Adam. She already had dug her fingers into her cake and had cherries smeared on her face. oO I probably look like I’m back in Primary school.Oo Mary hid her hands behind her back and tried to cover up her face. She had cake stuffed in her mouth, but still she attempted to speak.:: FENELLI: ::Muffled voice.:: I can replicate you one if you’d like. ::Mary swallowed hard trying to push the cake down her throat.:: HAASE: That would probably be best. ::Adam did his best to refrain from laughing. Grabbing the newly replicated fork, he sliced into chocolatey heaven. Within a few minutes, it was time for launch, and Adam placed the cake back into the replicator, unhappy that he had been unable to scarf it down in the time he had. He input the code for launch, and as soon as they were cleared, they left the Atlantis.:: Goodbye, old friend. May we meet again. MOLINARY: ::Attempting to do a southern accent:: See yeh, ya old bucket o’ bolts. Space ain’t big enough for the two uh us. ::He cackled with laughter:: ::Adam and Mary glared blankly at him, and he stopped:: MOLINARY: You two are no fun. FENELLI: ::Mary looked out the window of the shuttle, and tears began to fill her eyes and stream down her cheeks. Mary waved at Atlantis as they left.:: Good bye, Atlantis. ::Mary tried to hold back more tears that threatened to spill over onto her soft cheeks. Mary took a napkin to her tear stained face and dabbed her eyes with it. She could only hope that she would see the Atlantis once again.:: ((End Flashback)) A Joint Post Brought To You By: Lt.JG. Adam Haase Engineering Officer USS Gorkon NCC-82293 Writer #A239112TJ0 & Lt.JG Mary Fenelli HCO Officer USS Invicta Writer #A239201MF0 & Lt.JG. Javier Molinary (PNPC) Com/Ops Officer USS Gorkon NCC-82293 as simmed by: Lt.JG. Adam Haase
  21. ((Promenade, two decks above the main brig - StarBase 118)) ::Seth Ralston was having what he liked to think of as a 'working lunch' Except in his line of work, the working part was far less clear. For all intents and purposes he was a well to do trader enjoying a delicious and exotic meal on the promenade of StarBase 118. He had picked a sampler platter from the Al-Leyan restaurant on the corner and was in the middle of savoring every little bite like a gourmand. The food was good, but he wasn't really there for the food. The sampler platter simply drew out his eating, allowing him to spend more time sitting in this prime location and observing the traffic of the area without raising suspicion. He was just some guy enjoying alien cuisine. Not an immoral, merciless bounty hunter with his mind set on murder. Except in his mind it wasn't murder. Murder was personal, a crime of passion. This was a simple killing. There was a difference. This was dispassionate - a simple fact of life. Someone knew too much, they needed to be eliminated. He didn't really care who it was beyond the precautions he would have to take in order to get the job done. Starfleet had nicely trussed his subject up and stuck him in a jail cell. That was a minor setback - getting past Starfleet security was a pain. But on the other hand it reduced his all too slippery subject into a sitting duck. The biggest trouble would be to get in, get the job done and get out before Starfleet started shooting. Ralston knew the rules full well. Shoot a drifter and nobody cares. Shoot a Starfleet officer and you'll be hunted to the ends of the Galaxy. It was presumptuous and unfair, but true. Contracts on Starfleet officers always fetched a pretty penny in return for being some of the most dangerous to pull off. The killing part was easy - the not getting part caught was hard when it came to Starfleet. Ralston tended to avoid those contracts - too messy, too much preparation. So he didn't really want Starfleet on his tail because of an accident on his part. He had spent the better part of the afternoon observing and memorizing Starfleet's patrol patterns. Locating the security cameras, mapping the station, planning his route. He had a pretty good idea of how to pull it off. He needed a distraction, a small power failure, a way to mess with the backup systems and a little bit of luck. Fortunately he had most everything taken care of. The first thing he had done upon reaching the station was to find a way to get near the power grin and place a small black computer box into the workings. It was a gamble - such devices would be found with routine checks - but he was betting the rest of his plan would come together before the nightly maintenance went though. He would rig the distraction while he shopped, and access to the backup systems. If he moved fast it would be in, out, done. He could escape through the ventilation system and be back on the promenade before they could declare his subject dead, and off the station by the end of the night. Finishing his meal he headed to commercial sector, two floors below. Spending some time browsing, he came upon the 'Menagerie' - an exotic pet shop. He indulged in looking at all the animals, touching the cages and talking to every creature there. And on each cage he left a tiny black patch by the lock. Enough that when he sent out a pulse, every patch would amplify his signal and demagnetize every lock simultaneously. Then he headed out and back up two floors where he skirted the Starfleet patrols and gained access to a Jeffries tube. Time to move quick. He knelt down, working the magical part of his plan. Explosives were all too quickly picked up by security scans - normal explosives at least. Which was why he was allowed in to the little secret that Grek wasn't supposed to share. He took out a small container of grey powder - Calcium Trisulfanese, a fertilizer for terraforming projects and opened the container. Then a flask where he poured a generous libation of the sparkling golden liquor over the top. Mixing until it formed into a ball the consistency of modeling clay, Ralston smiled. He held in his hand a thoroughly innocuous looking ball. Safe to carry, safe to break and press into molds. Safe until it was hit with phased or charged energy, when the whole mass destabilized and exploded with impressive force. It was perfect for a job like this. Packing his things up, he hustled to the backup junction. It was dark, humming with just enough power to make sure the system was at the ready in case it needed to be used. Press a little of the clay here, and a big chunk there... it would stick happily in place until Starfleet powered up the backups. And then... boom. It was a thing of beauty. He backed out of the area, heading at a junction for the ventilation system, making his way towards the Main brig from above. He could feel the electric crackle of the force fields and security systems from over a dozen meters away, and he took the time to silently creep forward and locate the players in this little drama. Starfleet, Starfleet, Starfleet. The freighter captain was leaving, and there was the hybrid. Beaten up. Good. That would slow him down. Seth Ralston indulged in a grin as he pulled his devices from his coat. One magnetic pulse emitter, that was the first thing he turned on. Then the computer hack, signaled to start as the device interfaced with the power junction. It would take 67 seconds for the device to cause a lapse in the power and Ralston used those 67 seconds to swap in the modifications that turned his perfectly legal Rigellian phase pistol into a deadly long range weapon. There was a crackle of the forcefields and the lights flickered. Showtime.:: ~*~ tbc... ~*~ MSNPC Seth Ralston Bounty Hunter hired by Unsavory Sorts Simmed by: Sal Taybrim
  22. ((Embassy, Ambassadorial Kitchen)) Vetri: Ah, they're not usually that bad. ::gesturing to a seat at the counter:: So, what did you actually come here to talk to me about? Rossh: Just a matter I wanted to bring to the Admiral, but I wanted a second opinion - politically speaking - before I did. I really shouldn't intr... ::The thought that had been nagging in the back of his head finally came to the forefront.:: ..wait, did you say fuzzy dice earlier? :: The idea of political ramifications gave her a solid idea why he'd come to her, but that was put on hold for a moment as she gave him a quick grin over the rim of her coffee mug.:: Vetri: Nope. Why would I? ::The feline featured officer gave the Admiral a long appraising look before speaking.:: Rossh: To mess with my head? Vetri: I take my amusements where I can find them. ::chuckling:: Don't worry about it. Tell me what this thing you want a second opinion on is. Rossh: Alright. ::He moved to lean against the nearby counter as he assembled exactly what he was about to say into some form of cohesive order.:: Rossh: I think we are making a mistake in how we are currently dealing with the Laudeans. Vetri: Oh? :: There didn’t seem to be more she could really think of to say at that point. Not without more data, which she was expecting he’d get around to providing in due course.:: ::S’Kahh wasn’t exactly sure where to start, he wasn’t used to discussing sociology with non-sociologists. He fell back on what he already knew, and had discussed before.:: Rossh: I don't suppose you're familiar with a paper I wrote while I was at the academy, on the topic of how Music can both influence a society’s development and be used as a sociological barometer? Vetri: I regret to say… no. Not even remotely. :: Not that he seemed all that bothered by this admission.:: Rossh: Don't worry, outside of sociologists I don't think it's exactly a blockbuster hit. ::He half smiled.:: However it recently occurred to me that it's something we need to consider in relation to our hosts. :: He gestured towards the nearest window, indicating that he meant the Laudeans, and Della nodded thoughtfully as she sipped at her coffee again.:: Vetri: If you’re going to suggest some sort of world-altering rock concert, I’m not sure it’s a winner. ::The caitain half chuckled at that and shrugged.:: Rossh: Not quite, I don't mean the music side of it - I mean the influencing societal development part. :: She didn’t say a word in reply, but the look she gave him over the rim of her mug was… eloquent.:: Rossh: I'm not talking about trying to engineer their society - rather to counteract another influence that... ..well, to be honest I should have realised before. Hell, I've felt its effects myself. Vetri: Example? Rossh: The Romulans. ::He watched the Ambassador's response to that, which mostly consisted of another thoughtful look, then nodded.:: Vetri: The Romulans that were here, but now better [...]ed well not be? Rossh: They are indeed, mostly, gone - I'd be shocked if they don't have at least a few agents still monitoring this system. But the technology they left behind hasn't. :: After a long moment of silence, Della shifted to actually sit at the counter instead of leaning against it, then motioned for him to continue.:: Rossh: Right now the Laudean people are going through a quiet technological revolution. Every week new technologies are being created right here. ::His tail flicked out as he started to get into the swing of his argument.:: We don't notice it because we are so used to these technologies ourselves. For example, did you know that last month a company introduced an anti-grav tractor here? Vetri: I didn’t, no, but it doesn’t strike me as a particularly shattering development. Rossh: Exactly, to us it's quaint - something you'd see on a remote colony. To the Laudeans it's a massive increase in agricultural productivity. Crops can be grown closer together without the need for agricultural vehicles to drive between them, making for better use of space. Vetri: I’ll take your word for that. I’m not exactly up on agricultural techniques. Rossh: Here on Duronis, they are reverse engineering old Romulan tech left behind to make these products. That means that the basic principles that Laudean tech now follow are those of the Romulans - not the Laudeans themselves. Vetri: And this would be significant because…? :: Not that she didn’t have some idea, but she wanted *his* take on it.:: Rossh: Technology influences how people think. You remember the vault we have under the Museum? Where we store artifacts not currently on display? :: Since she was taking another mouthful of coffee at that moment, she just nodded. Then frowned a little and swallowed so she could speak.:: Vetri: It’s a leftover bit of architecture, isn’t it? Rossh: Yes, it's an old Romulan construction - and the way it's built follows their design philosophy. When I authorised its expansion - I automatically followed that philosophy instead of our own, because it fit together better that way. If a federation architect had designed it, it would have at least two different lifts and a backup stairwell. But the Romulans built it with one - easy to defend against - lift. That way it could also be used as a bunker. We don't think like... ::The face of the Embassy's second in command floated into the Caitian's mind at that moment, and he corrected himself.:: ..most of us don't think like that. Vetri: ::dryly:: Indeed. Rossh: You see what I'm getting at. Vetri: More or less. But we’re talking about an entirely different sort of thing, are we not? ::He sighed, nodding his agreement with that.:: Rossh: Well yes, tractors are hardly going to be a damaging influence. But I'm more getting at a different problem... Vetri: Let me guess... Rossh: Military hardware. Romulan tech lends itself to developing certain technologies, and those technologies lend themselves to certain tactics. And tactics influence strategy, and both tactics and strategy are dependant on how people are taught. :: Yup. Pretty much where she’d come to think he was heading.:: Vetri: I’m not sure I’d completely agree with that, but I do see where you’re going. ::He stood, and met the ambassador’s gaze as he continued.:: Rossh: The Laudeans are, without realising it, potentially heading down a technological path that'll make it a requirement for them to adopt tactics like those the Romulans use to make best use of what they build. Vetri: Assuming they don’t mix in any innovation or adaptation of their own. But remember that Romulan strategy and tactics grew out of their culture, not the other way around. They went with what they knew, and made it apply to other fields. ::Setting her mug down on the counter:: But I assume you have an idea as to how this trend might be… redirected? Rossh: By changing tack in how we interact with the Laudean education system. I propose that we allow secondary, college and university students come to the Embassy to use and experiment with our equipment. We explain how it works, but only on the principle level - we give them the information they need to figure out how to make it on their own. Vetri: Hmm. You’re talking about giving them the basic building blocks, but leaving them to work out what to do with them themselves? Rossh: Exactly, we simply inspire the next generation of Laudean scientists and engineers to build the very tools they've used here for themselves - without having to resort to reverse engineering the way the Romulans would have done it. That means they'll be coming at it from their own angle, not the Romulans - or even ours. :: Della thought it over, idly toying with her empty mug as she considered what he’d said. She could see merit in it, even though she was less convinced by the chain of reasoning he’d used to get there. But wasn’t that sort of the point? It was *his* way of getting to a solution, and whilst she’d have gotten there differently, that was simply the result of a different way of thinking.:: Vetri: Do you have any guesses as to the effectiveness of this idea? Rossh: ::He shrugged.:: Honestly I don't know, that'll depend on the Laudeans themselves. I mean, sure, they'll have a certain level of influence from us - even if it's just designing the control systems to be like ours since that's what they'll have gotten used to using. But it should be enough to blunt the technological tendency to copy Romulan patterns. Vetri: I’d agree with that much, though I’m not convinced it’s as big a problem as you seem to think it is. ::holding up a hand:: I’m not saying it *isn’t* something to consider. Rossh: That’s fair enough, after all I did want to run this past you before taking it any further precisely because I wasn’t sure. I do however believe that it’s something we will have to confront at some point. ::He paused.:: No disrespect intended. Vetri: I don’t shoot people for disagreeing with me before my second coffee of the day, so you’re safe. :: Getting up, she snagged her mug and headed to the replicator to order up a refill. Once she had it, she turned back to him and smiled amiably.:: Vetri: Now, where were we… ::she let it hang for a second, then shrugged:: Assemble the idea about inviting students as a proposal, but I’d leave out the references to the Romulans. Present it as just an idea to help guide the Laudeans toward making their own technological developments in the future. Rossh: So, drop the reasons behind it entirely? Vetri: ::shaking her head:: I’m not suggesting ignore the reasoning that got you to the idea, S'Kahh. Just focus on the idea itself. If you get asked why you came up with it, then fair enough, but I wouldn’t lead with it. *Especially* to the Laudeans. Rossh: I hadn’t planned on broadcasting that part too widely, though… ..I’d feel more comfortable if at least the Prime Minister was aware of the intent behind the program. Though, I realise it would probably be better to not simply not mention my reasoning at all? ::He made that statement into a question at the end, seeking reassurance that he wasn’t being overcautious, which Della thought was a reasonable precaution. She shook her head, though, again not quite agreeing with him.:: Vetri: If he asks, then give him your reasoning, but I’m thinking a slight spin on it might work better. Rossh: Oh? How so? Vetri: Gimme a moment, I’m thinking. Okay, how about this? The whole idea is to reduce the impact that the study of Romulan hardware has on Laudean technological development, by giving them another tech base to draw from. The whole idea is for them to draw their own conclusions from it all, and develop the way *they* want to. ::sipping at her mug for a moment:: Basically, present the whole deal as a chance for them to play with more toys, and choose from them what they want to work on. Rossh: I can understand that, and I can do that as well. Vetri: Just… don’t go into the social side of things unless you *really* have to. The Prime Minister may get what you mean, but there are a lot of other folks on this planet who will shave you bald for suggesting they might turn into Romulans. :: Actually, she thought that would be a pretty mild reaction compared to some, but there was no need to dwell on that just now. The very idea of being shaved held a distinct horror for the feline featured scientist, somewhat equivalent to most species conception of being naked at a public event… ..bar Betazoids at least.:: Rossh: Your warning is well taken. While I don’t totally agree, I do understand your reasoning in turn - and I definitely don’t want to jeopardize our position here. Vetri: ::nodding:: Fair enough. Write it up, send it on over, and I’ll take a look and see if anything needs tweaking before you go to Toni with it. Rossh: Thank you, I’ll have it to you by… ::He considered for a moment.:: ..end of today? Vetri: If you feel you can get it done by then without rushing, sure. Better to get this sort of thing done right than fast. Rossh: Well, I suppose I’d better get back to work. I now have a lot of writing to do… ::He half smiled as he turned towards the door, tail swishing rather more relaxedly behind him.:: Vetri: And you might want to consider yourself very lucky about that. Rossh: About which part? :: With a grin, she drained her mug, then stuck it back in the replicator for recycling.:: Vetri: The part that has you behind a desk, as opposed to up to your armpits in a ship that may, at any given moment and for no reason but its own amusment, blow up. Or bits of it, at any rate. Rossh: I don’t know about that… ..have you met my sister? Might remind me of home. ::He gave an overly toothy grin to that.:: Vetri: Your sister, Mr. Rossh, is not a theoretically inanimate lump of machinery. Random explosions are less of an expected thing with those. Now go. ::shooing him toward the door:: Scoot. Write. And steer clear of the landing bays. Rossh: ::Saluting:: Aye Aye Ambassador. ::And with that he headed towards the door, and back out into the embassy grounds.:: TBC -------------------- Ambassador Della Vetri Diplomatic Officer Embassy of Duronis Author ID O238506DV0 & Lt Cmdr S’Kahh Rossh Chief Science Officer Duronis II Embassy - USS Thunder A Author ID: E238907SR0
  23. (Corridors - USS Atlantis) ::Mitchell yawned as he made the trip up to the bridge from the Runabout dock on Deck 9. He’d been sitting in that runabout for such a long period he’d decided to walk from the dock at the aft end of the deck forward all the way to the forward pair of turbo lifts. It wasn’t the extreme hike it would have been back on the Lady since the Atlantis was a smaller Intrepid, but it was a good walk to loosen up all his stiff muscles. It had been a long time since he had put himself through the gut wrenching effects of combat flying.:: oO And this was only a runabout, not Valkyrie or even a Peregine. It had a better SIF then both fighters. Oo ::As he walked, he let his mind wander back to some of the fights he’d been in. The first that came to mind was the fighting with the Romulans over the base.:: (Flashback in Mitchell’s Mind) ::Every fighter the base had was now streaking toward the decloaked Warbirds. Nine Rogue class interceptors lead the way, with the six Valkryies lead by Mitchell right behind. Eight Peregines were on one side, with twelve who had not gone out with the Discovery, on the other side. The four surviving Maul gunships brought up the rear, tucked in tight behind, between,and slightly under the others.:: ::But this time there was no chance for a surprise like at Daris II. All of the Romulan ships were on impulse, and this time, there had the oppurtunity to use the best form of anti-starfighter defense in the galaxy. Another fighter. And the new Romulan Warbirds carried the newest "fighter" in the Romulan's aresnal, the Scorpion class, as Starfleet Intel had taged it. And as Mitchell and his fellows had expected, they were out in force today.:: ::Now since only Jean Luc Picard of the Enterprise E was the only Starfleet officer who had flown a Scorpion, there was exactly much known about how the new craft would handle. But according to Intel data, the Scorpion was a ground attack craft, essentially a modified shuttlepod design, with limited capabilities as a fighter. They were the exact opposite of the craft under Mitchell's command, which according to Starfleet guideline were all special designed and built fighter craft. So it was going to be a contest between a small number of true fighter/interceptors versus a large number of "wannabe" fighters. And those wannabes were forming up for a break through strike of their own.:: ::The range scrolled down fast and his targeting cursor went red with the familiar growl. It was time.:: MITCHELL: =/\= All craft. Break Now! =/\= ::Immeadiately the Rogue interceptors went to max power and opened fire with pulse phaser cannons, then pulled up hard, clearing the others line of fire, just as Mitchell and the others each clamped down on their own triggers. Each of the Valkyries spat out a pair of mini-quantum torpedoes and the Peregines mini-photons, but the Mauls each fired two external full sized photons. As soon as the torps were inflight, both squadrons of Peregines broke wide, while Mitchell slammed his stick over hard, putting his bird into a crash dive, the others Valkryies following. The old fashioned spitting flower trick.:: ::Each squadrons finished its manuevers to keep clear of return fire and rolled back in. But despite the barrage, not enough Scorpions were taken out for Mitchell's taste. But the Rogue's again lead the way back in, spitting pulse phaser fire, nailing several more of the Romulans. Then as the Scorpions used their limited ammount of manueverability to break after the Rogues, it was Mitchell and the Ghostriders turn. The Valkyries came in using their own pulse phaser cannons, catching the Romulans from the oblique. Two exploded under the volley as the others tried to break free. But the Valkyries superior manueverability let them stay right with the Scorpions, pumping phaser fire into'em. The remaining four quickly disappeared in blazes.:: ::Mitchell finished off his bogey and racked his bird around to pick up another target. Around him, the other fighters weaved, turned, climbed and dived, juked and jived, doing what ever they could to keep their more manueverable birds behind the Romulans and out of the weapon arcs of the Warbirds. He rolled out of his turn and dropped in behind another Scorpion from above. He glanced at the sensors to see that several Warbirds were making a run on the doors to Spacedock. That meant they were trying to break in and invade.:: MITCHELL: ::switching to the wing com channel:: =/\= Ghost One to Marauders. Get those troop carriers. We gotta stop'em. Aces, help'em out. =/\= ::The gunships had been the only fighters not involved in serious dogfighting, which made sense since they were their to kill the Warbirds. They were making runs, but their were only four of them so they could only do so much. The eight Peregines of the Black Aces would help, but all of the fighters would really be needed. But first they had to finish off these Scorpions, especially this one that Mitchell was chasing now. MITCHELL: Can't get his guy. Go for a torp lock! NOVA: Locking on. MITCHELL: Come baby, lock it up. Lock up...... ::then suddenly the cursor went red with a lock.:: Fire it! ::He squeezed the trigger and mashed the launch key at the same time. One of the two launchers built into the underside of the fighter, spat a single mini-quantum. The torpedo raced out, tracking the fighter it was following through its manuevers. It caught up with the fighter as it tried to slid out of the torpedo's path, and detonated with a flash.:: (Corridor - USS Atlantis) ::He shook his head to clear it before he walked into a wall. He reached one of the turbo lifts, tapped the key, and waited for a car to arrive. That mission had gotten rather painful for him. He reached down to rub his knee.:: (Flashback) ::Lt Mitchell was grogily drifting in and out of consciousness as the escape pod containing he and his WSO drifted through space. At least the periods of unconsciousness kept down the oxygen use. And it was starting to really get cold in the pod, or at least he thought. It hadn't been that long since they had ejected or so he thought. Someone should have come to get them by now, but he couldn't be sure how long it had been.:: ::He wasn't sure of Nova's condition behind him, but she didn't answer when he yelled. And yelling through the mask was all he could for now. The pod had lost all power at some point so he couldnt be sure how much air they had left other than what was around them and in their pressure suit emergency bottles. Thus he couldnt afford to risk removing his own mask, in case the pod had a leak in it somewhere. He would have unstrapped and tried to turn around, but his leg had smashed into the console and some point and his left knee wouldn't change positions now. He would probably loose his leg if they hit a planet and had to eject out of the pod. But at least at some point, either he or the pod's automatic systems had stopped the tumbling caused by the rocket motor that had gotten it clear of the dying Valkyrie. That was a plus at least. All he needed now was to be space sick as well.:: ::Suddenly he felt light playing across the darkness his eyes were used to. He opened his eyes to see another Valkyrie floating there, right outside the pod. Someone had come after all.:: oO Yes. They found us! About time. Took'em long enough. Uh no. With no power there's not a way to let them know we're alive.... Wait I got a way. Let's see what they think of this. Hope no one gets offended.Oo ::He lifted his arm and put his gloved hand right against the canopy. Making a fist, knuckles against the canopy, he rotated it so his palm was down, then he extended a selected finger.:: (Corridors - USS Atlantis) ::The hiss of the lift doors opening drug him from his thoughts and he stepped into the empty car.:: MITCHELL: Bridge ::As the car rose, he thought about the aftermath of that mission.:: (Flashback) ::Lt Mitchell hurt all over. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around, trying to see what he could see without moving his head. From what he could see and smell, he was in a starship's sickbay, and a nearly brand new one at that. That meant he was on the USS Fearless, since she had been on a test cruise right out of the yards when she had been diverted to join the rescue fleet heading for the base. He tried to lean forward and ease himself up into a sitting position, but when he tried to use his left arm, it felt like fire was burning through his side.:: LEE: ::hopping up from the chair he was sitting in and coming over to help.:: Whoa. Easy there Mitchell. Your busted up pretty good. ::With Lee's assistance, Mitchell got into a position sitting up right.:: MITCHELL: Ugh! What did I do to myself this time? LEE: Well, you want the short version or the whole list? MITCHELL: ::grunting:: The short version, please. LEE: Well, the main three are that you dislocated your left shoulder, bruised several ribs, as well as your right knee. MITCHELL: Ouch. No wonder I hurt all over. Ever heard of pain killers around here? LEE: They shot you full when the shuttle picked you up. You just came off them. MITCHELL: How long since you picked me up? Last thing I remember was giving a Valkyrie the finger. And where's my WSO, Nova? LEE: Yeah...nice signal. Been a long time since you last shot that at me. Its been about two hours since we picked you up. But Nova, well...Nova's still in surgery. MITCHELL: Surgery? For what? LEE: A lot. Multiple internal injuries. Well, here's what I can determine from the little I got from the medics in the shuttle, and knowing the Valkyrie's [...]pit. Nova managed to trigger the command ejection sequence to punch you two out. But as the pod seperated from your fighter, that took you out of the effects of the internal compensator. So as the pod started tumbling and tried to stablize itself, the only thing holding you both in place, were you harness straps. MITCHELL: Skip the excess details. So we got thrown around. That would account for how I feel and my injuries. But what about Nova? LEE: Apparently her harness either didn't lock properly or failed altogether. She was thrown around her portion of the [...]pit like a rag doll. So in addition to the physical external injuries like yours, she recieved significant internal damage, including damage to her spinal column. That's why the doc's are in there still, working on her now. MITCHELL: How's it look? Will she pull through? LEE: I think so. But her returning to flight status is nil. Maybe in a while, but for sure it won't be any time soon. MITCHELL: I know. She's a good WSO, be tough to replace her. ::Mitchell sat there slightly for several minutes, and Lee let him, before continuing the conversation.:: MITCHELL: Did you report finding me to Cmdr Waltas? LEE: Yes I did. He told me that if you pranged up another fighter, he'd bust you back to petty officer. MITCHELL: Funny. There any other messages for me? LEE: One. There's to be a staff meeting of the base's senior officers coming up. I guess that means you since your their flight ops chief. MITCHELL: Yeah it does technically. But how much of a department/flight wing do I have left? We took every fighter that would fly out with the Discovery before we fled. And of those, how many came through the fight in combat ready shape? LEE: Well, when the Fearless is done here, we're headed back to the fleet yards to finish fitting out. So I don't see the need for fighters for that. So...if need be, I'll transfer all of my working fighters over to your wing to replace your losses. MITCHELL: What about pilots? More fighters can be built a lot quicker than good pilots trained. I'l probably need some more pilots too. LEE: That would require me to discuss things with my Captain. But I'll say that if you would have it, I'll take leave, and come fly on your wing. MITCHELL: Thanks. I appreciate the offer. Now get me some crutches or something, cause I have a meeting to get to. (Turbolift - USS Atlantis) ::That had nearly been one of the various ends to his flying days but been the end of Nova’s. He got off with relatively minor injuries beside the knee, but Nova, the docs thought they could save her. But the spine damage had been too great. She’d been one of the hundreds of casualties lost in that battle. :: oO And I haven’t flown combat with a WSO since either. Oo ::He felt water on his face, and reached up to touch it and found his eyes were emitting tears. Some would call it crying. But he’d stick to calling it a by product of being awake and at the helm for so long. He wiped his eyes as the car stopped and the doors opened. He set himself and stepped out onto the bridge.:: tbc Commander Rode Mitchell Chief Tactical Officer USS Atlantis
  24. (( 0700, Counseling office, USS Garuda )) ::Raissa was surprised to see Skyfire at her door, since they had agreed that she was going to swing by his quarters this morning. It was early and she wanted a chance to go over his files. She was surprised to see the number of counselors that had annotated his file and she was not pleased:: Moonsong: Lt. Please come in. ::stands:: Would you like something to drink? :: Chythar was clad in his black leather jacket, an Excalibur patch on one shoulder and 118 Ops patch on the other. It was a casual morning for him,yesterday having been crazy-like for him as every other day of shore leave he'd had since leaving the academy. :: Skyfire: Black coffee? Moonsong: ::walks to the replicator:: Would you be interested in trying something different? And please, have a seat. ::she gestured to the two comfortable chairs to the side and not the chair in front of her small desk.:: Skyfire: ::taking a seat:: So, how're you? Moonsong: ::brings over two cups of steaming tea:: I'm finding my way. ::hands him one of the cups and sits down across from him:: The real question is what is on your mind? It's not often a counselor has someone anxious to set an appointment. :: Resigned to the fact he was doomed to have some of that horrible tea that his brother Sal recommended, CD considered the fact that perhaps this particular blend of tea was something that would improve his mental discipline. That could be used to sharpen his mind, enhance his mental shields. And blast it, his neural inhibitor was wearing off. He didn't need that right now. oO I'd rather bury this blasted ability...[...] you, Azin. Oo :: Skyfire: :: sighed heavily. :: I suppose I should start at the beginning, shouldn't I? :: he blew a strand or two of his blonde hair out of his eyes and began slowly. :: Some months ago, I was involved in an accident. The exact stardate escapes my memory offhand. During the treatment of one of my patients, he lost control of the situation and I woke up with these...abilities. Making me telepathic and empathic. It only seems to work on humans. :: Beat. He stopped himself, as he thought about whether or not to add more. About Sal. oO Nah. Not now. Oo :: Moonsong: ::her eyes widened slightly yet her expression remained calm and serene:: I think I understand. ::she tapped her finger on her chin thoughtfully:: These abilities are new to you so I think the first thing we need to do is work on your control, if that is the problem. ::she paused:: Are you wide open right now or do you need to touch? Skyfire: That's just it. I don't know. I don't need to touch them to be able to sense what's going on, if that's what you meant. Moonsong: ::nodding:: Are you able to sense anything from me right now? :: His eyes closed for a moment as he attempted to use his 'curse', the inhibitor wearing off. He detected calm, but still couldn't get a solid read due to the fact she was mostly human. The other, he may've imagined; because alien genetics were alien. :: Skyfire: Calm, I think? Maybe mild bafflement that a human has this sort of power? :: He sipped his tea and managed not to blanch at how unusual the flavor was. He drank it with a schooled neutrality. It obviously wasn't his favorite blend, but that didn't matter. He was here, and getting help. Or at least, that's what he tried to make himself believe. :: Skyfire: I have no idea how to control it. When I first got out of the academy, I was surrounded by people who were telepathic or empathic to some degree. I learned how to shield, sort of. Then this accident happened that cursed me. And recently, while I was operating on Ensign Carter Greyson's life, I felt the pain he was in and my shields were gone. Had to inhibit my curse long enough to treat Captain Reynolds... :: He fell quiet, and forced himself to take another sip of the unusual liquid that seemed to be in the cup. He did manage to relax, despite how bizzare the tea was. oO Tastes like something my brother thought up... Oo His breathing slowed, his body relaxed and he noticed he was calm once again. :: Moonsong: ::she set down her teacup picked up the padd that was on the table beside her chair:: Lt... Dr. Skyfire, I think I can help you. I see that you've seen a number of counselors since this happened and I wonder why they couldn't help you. :: Chythar sipped his drink slowly oO Here we go...Oo and took a deep breath, needing to start from the beginning of the list. :: Skyfire: OK. I want to make it clear that with my first two counselors, this telepathy/empathy thing was not an issue in terms of my learning how to control it. I only had to know enough to keep myself shielded so I didn't set everyone else off. Sal Taybrim did help me, until I was assigned here. Moonsong: I'm going to ask you a series of questions and I'm sorry if you've heard this all before, but if I'm to help you succeed, I need to know. And I need you to be completely honest with me. Skyfire: Go ahead. Moonsong: Alright, if I understand correctly, you can only read other humans and it doesn't matter if you touch them or not. If someone near you is angry, do you become so as well? :: He shook his head, her interpretation being slightly off of what he was capable of. He took another sip of tea to relax himself, taking a moment to swallow it before he began to correct her. :: Skyfire: I don't need to touch anyone in order to sense anything. Lieutenant Taybrim and I shared a mental connection before my accident, and he's the only non-human I can read like an open book. I do pick up on the emotions in the room. Example, during the rescuing of the captain I felt the adrenaline surge from everyone in the group and that was the only thing that kept my curse under control. Moonsong: ::making notes on the padd and spoke more to herself:: Empathy and telepathy aren't the same thing. ::she looked up at him:: Sorry, I talk to myself. I'm trying to get read on where you rate on each scale. Skyfire: You tell me. I can't read you as well as I can read Carter, for example. I only guessed you were sensing confusion at my abilities. Moonsong: I am only one quarter Betazoid. I would have to touch you in order to establish a connection to read you. The result of that could have one or two results. You'll be able to fully read me, or nothing will change and I'll be able to empathically read you. ::smiles:: ::Raissa didn't need to be a telepath to read his frustration. It was more than understandable:: Moonsong: We can wait on that particular experiment. ::she picked up her cup again and took a sip. She had chosen one of her more relaxing blends that her grandmother had been fond of:: Based on your files, you are using a chemical inhibitor to control your talent. Which formulation are you using? :: That was one aspect he wasn't sure of. He remembered it'd been a mixture of chemicals that he composed in the lab, and tried hard to remember which ones. :: Skyfire: Cortralathin and fistalan. Fifty fifty mix. This is the first time since the accident I had to use it...but why's that important? Moonsong: Because the control needs to come from you, not the chemicals. You can't develop a dependency on outside sources of control. I'd like to schedule you for regular to start working on your mental blocks. Skyfire: I'm willing to reschedule if you have other appointments. Moonsong: I only had you so far, Dr. Skyfire. But I'd like to meet with you when you're not on the chemical inhibitors. It's the only way we'll make any progress. So we should meet daily for the next week and that will determine the best way to proceed. Skyfire: I understand. Tomorrow morning, then? Moonsong: Response :: Skyfire nodded faintly and ran a hand along his face, realizing how tired he was. :: Skyfire: Yeah, I will try to. See you tomorrow. :: He got up and prepared to leave the room, downing the last of the tea before disposing of the cup in the replicator on his way out the door. :: === Lieutenant JG Chythar Skyfire Assistant Chief Medical Officer USS Garuda NCC 73809 & Ensign Raissa Moonsong Counselor USS Garuda
  25. ((USS Garuda, Corridors )) ::Several new faces had joined the crew as of late, and one of them she'd caught sight of but they hadn't been officially introduced. Yet. That would all change very shortly. As she had been helping Delano, Alora realized she really needed to go ahead and give away some more of her babies and, she thought, it might be a good way to meet some of the newest arrivals. As she had in the past, the science officer had appropriated a cart and proceeded to place a variety of plants. There were some other species among the violets, but that particular Terran plant made up most of the varieties she had available. Plants in hand, or rather in cart, she eased the contraption out into the hallway. By the time she arrived to her first 'house call', she'd already given away two, but she had several more plants of that variety so Voss would still have her choice. She asked the computer to indicate her arrival - then waited.:: ((USS Garuda, R'raika Voss Personal Quarters)) :: Voss was sitting in one of the more comfortable cushions, the second act of Aktuh & Maylota was playing over her quarters speakers, not quite at an ear piercing volume, but still almost loud enough to be enjoyable. She twitched when the computer chimed in over her music- a visitor? Rolling off the cushion, she stood up and quickly gave her room a once over- good enough for company. She approached the door and keyed the console to open it- the cold air of the hallway almost felt like ice against her skin- standing in front of her was-:: Voss:: Lt. DeVeau, :: Voss offered DeVeau a warm smile as she glanced at the cart of plants:: I was hoping we'd get a chance to talk, would you like to come in? :: Voss stepped to the side and gestured to the room behind her:: I just finished moving in not too long ago- so don't mind the mess. ::Whoa, hot, but it wasn't completely unexpected. Vulcan was a hot planet, and Saveron had kept his quarters really hot too. Fortunately, she had a couple of plants that would do alright in such an environment while she had to keep them in miniature environmental regulators. What she did _not_ expect, however, was the smile. A Vulcan smiled. As far as Alora knew, Voss was a full Vulcan, so the sight struck her as out of place.:: DeVeau: Please, call me Alora. ::She honestly didn't see the point in formality unless they were working and it was still shore leave. Actually, Alora didn't mind when others used her first name even on the job.:: ::Voss nodded as she turned her back to the woman and walked back to the large cushion she'd been sitting in, plopping down in a less than smooth manner she looked back to Alora and the open door. :: Voss:: As you wish- but then you should call me R'raika. DeVeau: Um. Would you hate me if I asked you to turn down the heat a bit? Voss: If it gets you to come in and have a seat. Computer- lower the rooms ambient temperature to 23 degrees Celsius- vent the excess heat and recycle the current air to the desired parameters. ::As the air in the room was vented, it turned from hot to comfortably cool in a matter of moments- Voss pointed to a large cushion across from hers, the small table sitting between the two. :: Voss: Please, bring in your cart and have a seat- ::Voss bapped her head slightly:: I should have offered you refreshments- would you like tea, bloodwine, root beer? ::Alora did as invited, thankful that the Vulcan had been receptive to the idea of cooling things down a bit. She wouldn’t have been able to withstand that sort of heat for _too_ long. The cart ambled along behind her willingly until she released it and it sat, waiting to be pushed around some more. Once she was certain it wasn’t going to roll off anywhere, she accepted the proffered seat as well as the offer for refreshment.:: DeVeau: Ooo, root beer. I haven’t had that in a while that sounds good. :: R’raika gave a quick nod and rolled out of her cushion and hopped onto her feet in one quick motion. She hummed a little, almost matching the pace of the opera that was playing in the background and spoke quietly to her replicator:: Voss: Charlie, we need two large Terran Root Beers- chilled mugs, no ice. DeVeau: So, nice to meet you. Do you mind if we converse in Vulcan? It’s such a lovely language and I always enjoy being able to use it. ::Voss had just grabbed the mugs and was walking back towards Alora when she commented about speaking in Vulcan- R’raika tried not to frown at the notion but didn’t hold back as well as she could have. :: Voss: [Vulcan] We could- ::her Vulcan came out with a thick klingon accent almost, strongly reminiscent to the dialect one heard from Klingons coming from the First City. :: It has it’s place- ::she handed Alora the chilled mug :: I prefer Klingon to be honest- it is a far more honest language. ::She hadn’t expected that harsh lilt to what she normally thought of as a musical language. The gutteral intonation seemed at odds with the Modern Golic sound. If anything, it only heightened Alora’s curiousity.:: DeVeau: [Vulcan] I know some Klingon, we can switch to that if you prefer. Voss: [V] It’s no skin off my teeth- and it’s good to stay in practice. ::Voss took a long pull of her root beer before coughing a little- :: it’s the bubbles, they tickle. I once tried adding bubbles to bloodwine- my friends were not impressed. ::A small, light laugh and she settles back onto her seat. She looks at the flowers and smiles again, it’s a large smile full of teeth and it reaches her eyes as she talks :: You’ve come with flowers, why? DeVeau: [V] Yes it is. ::Which was why when she knew someone who spoke another language, Alora was always keen to use it - if she also had some knowledge of it. Sometimes it annoyed people, and sometimes it simply surprised them.:: DeVeau: [V] I plan to take over the Universe with plants. ::A grin broke out at the tease, and it was a joke that most Vulcans wouldn’t have gotten, but this Vulcan seemed a far cry different from those she had met before. In a way, she was testing the waters.:: :: Voss nodded, a serious expression on her face. :: Voss: [V] The Jo’ran Sah of the Delta quadrant tried a similar tactic using fungal spores. Their tactics-- ::Voss paused, and lost the serious tone rather quickly, her nose scrunched up and she gave up on being so Vulcan:: So, a plant army then? ::She sipped her root beer with utter seriousness, she even arched an eyebrow.:: ::That spurred a giggle which DeVeau couldn’t and didn’t bother to hide. A Vulcan with a sense of humour - who’d have thought! Although the woman was setting her at ease, Alora didn’t want to try anything _too_ familiar - at least til she got to know Voss better.:: DeVeau: [V] Yep. A plant army. I want some in every room of the ship. Gotta start small, build my way up. :: Voss nodded again, sipping her root beer, she studied the bubbles a moment and smiled:: Voss: [V] Well, you have very pretty soldiers- :: she paused:: you don’t think my quarters will prove too hostile an environment for them? I’d hate to lock them up in little cells- the beauty of a flower is only really part of the joy they bring- there’s the scent- the tactile feel of the petals, the sense of life they bring to a place. It would be a waste to see them diminished by being locked behind glass. DeVeau: [V] They are lovely indeed. ::African Violets were one of her favourite plants, and certainly the favourite among Terran species. Her mother had a few, but not as many as her grandmother had. SHe’d had rooms filled with the fuzzy-leafed plants, all of which Alora took when she had died. :: DeVeau: [V] And yes, the heat would kill them, but they enjoy the environmental regulators and can break out when they really want to. ::She rose then to pluck a plant from the cart so she could carry it over to the Vulcan and plopped back in her seat once more.:: DeVeau: [V] That’s a ‘Buckeye Cranberry Sparkler’ - the name of the variety, that is. I have other varieties with all sorts of colours. And yes, it is nice to smell and feel, but these flowers don’t have any scent and you can always turn down the heat when you want to cuddle them. I wouldn’t touch their leaves _too_ much though. :: Voss accepted the flower and ran a longer finger across one of the petals :: Voss: [V] More of a look but don’t touch… ::she sniffed the flower:: It’s not a floral scent- but it smells green. Alive. It would make a suitable soldier for deployment here I would think. Did you bring one of these environmental regulators with you? ::Alora shook her head. They were easy to obtain but she generally used hers for plants that didn’t fare so well in a more terran environment. Although she loved her violets, Alora also enjoyed other types of plants and it was the only way she could keep certain species alive.:: DeVeau:[V] I don’t have any with me, but there’s a replicator programme for them already so you should be able to get one really easily. :: Voss stood up and moved to the replicator, as she keyed in the parameters for the environmental regulator-:: Voss: [V] Alora, you first joined the majority of this crew when they were on the Mercury in 2390, and transferred over when that ship was ‘retired’ and the Garuda took it’s place- correct? :: As the regulator materialized, Voss gave it a small poke before picking it up and taking it to her desk- she brushed the crumpled up papers to one side and set the regulator down- :: ::Oh, so was she being interrogated? Alora’s mouth quirked a little in amusement. She supposed it didn’t matter if the Vulcan was an intelligence officer or not, it only made sense to inquire after crewmembers, learn something about them.:: DeVeau: [V] That I was indeedy. ::Her eyes followed the Vulcan’s motions as the plant was placed in its new home:: If you set the humidity factor to about eight, that will generate enough water so that you don’t have to take it out of the regulator just to water it. These plants will soak in moisture through their leaves. :: Voss keyed in the parameters for the plant and sealed the case- she gave the little flowers a sad sort of smile and then walked back to her cushion. Sitting down, she gave Alora a friendly smile :: Voss: [V] Thank you very much for the flower, she’ll make an excellent guard for my desk… ::she sipped the last of her root beer and set the mug down. :: I would like to discuss the evidence you found that implicated both the former First Officer Harrison Ross and Captain Quinn Reynolds. I would like to hear, in detail, about the genetic material you found on the device- how much was intentional contamination versus incidental contact, and could it be shown that one person- more than the other had more contact with the device- ::she paused, looked at her mug and seemed sad to see it empty :: the devices correlation with 83 Leonis, and if you can you verify that as fact and not speculation. DeVeau: Oh. ::Well, so much for a friendly visit and pleasant conversation that was intended to get to know the other officer. It was, indeed, an interrogation though Alora hadn’t planned on discussing business. DeVeau: Um, well, have you... :: Voss stood up and moved to the replicator- she held her hand out to forestall Alora’s response to the questions and Alora paused mid sentence. :: Voss: Charlie, a small glass of bloodwine, 2306- carbonated. ::Voss took the small mug from the replicator and turned back to face Alora. :: [V] This is an informal environment for such an inquiry- and I would understand if you would prefer a more formal setting- your office for example. ::Voss paused and took a small sip of the bloodwine. :: I would prefer to avoid any formal settings at present though. Ross is a known traitor, and Captain Reynolds, though apparently badly beaten, could still be seen as a ::Voss paused:: a risk. It is my obligation to sift through the evidence and send in a report to Starfleet Intelligence. I am going to be impartial- though in confidence here, I would say the situation leads me to favor Captain Reynolds. ::Voss took another pull from the mug:: But that kind of favoritism won’t do anyone any good if we can’t put a picture together that will convince Starfleet… ::that said, Voss drained the rest of her mug:: Thoughts, questions, and answers- please. DeVeau: [V] I just have to admit, I didn’t really come here expecting an interrogation, but I’ll answer any questions you may have. Though, really, if you want to look at the report I made I can forward it to you. I’m always quite detailed because I want whomever is reading it to get the entire story. Voss: [V] Interrogation? ::she laughs softly:: I could make it into an interrogation I guess- make you drink warm root beer and raise the lights up to a hundred percent… ::she moves back to the floor cushion and sits down:: I’m not ::she pauses:: you seem like someone who is very down to earth- practical even. I’m not after exact facts- more like impressions. For example- what are your thoughts on the Myr Luuk or the Community- were the former XO or Captain ever exposed to either party. The Myr Luuk’s new partnership with the Cardassians- does any of that tie in to what happened on the Garuda… a lot of strings to reach at and pull. DeVeau: [V] Cold root beer is so much better though. ::Alora pitched her voice into a very unVulcanic whine, then sipped at that root beer as if she might fear R’raika would make good on her threat. She processed the questions as she consumed a little more of her drink then furrowed her brow.:: DeVeau: [V] Ross was on the away team with me so he had contact with the Bodhisattva, but...well, my Impression is that they’re kind of reluctant to deal with new people. They dealt with us and weren’t rude, but it was more like they did it because they didn’t have much choice in the matter. ::Which was pretty much the case.:: DeVeau: [V] Um. I’m not sure about the Myr Luuk. I didn’t really have contact with them at all, though the partnership is...interesting. I mean, they wanted an end to this war and I guess they felt like that was their only alternative. ::And of course the Cardassians would take advantage of anything that might be beneficial to them. There had to be something the Myr Luuk possessed that they wanted.:: DeVeau: [V] as to how it ties in, I’m not really sure. It might tie together in ways we’ve yet to see. TBC ****Lt. Alora DeVeau Chief of Science USS Garuda & Ensign R'raika VossIntelligence OfficerUSS Garuda
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Terms of Use.