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  1. There was one of these for the Victory and I seen other ships with a simular topic, so here is a new one for a new ship, who wants to be the first to put up a funny Quote from one of the crew??
  2. @Tahna Meru - Wow, this is so beautifully written! Wonderful work here.
  3. Auw, touchy @Vylaa. ((Unknown Location, Rogue World)) Rosenblatt: Ark’Va is bringing your friends. If you’ll excuse me, I have some duties to attend to. Eileen slowly made her way through the shelters after leaving the new arrivals, her previously normal strides now reduced to short, shuffling steps, her limbs now feeling the weak achiness that now followed on the heels of exertion. She smiled and held up a hand of greeting to a small group of friends, but said nothing; her breaths were coming in short gulps and she needed every bit of air to make it to her quarters. The path ahead seemed to stretch in her mind, like space just before just before going to warp. A sixty meter walk seemed like a kilometer. She tired easily, forcing several rest stops where she watched her friends and their families go about their day. This was nothing new to the aging human, it often took her longer than it used to to make this walk. Buros had often implored her to start using a cane, saying it would make her daily rounds far easier, less tiring. He’d even handmade a lovely looking walking stick for her, but stupid vanity had meant it remained propped against a wall of their shared home. After a seeming eternity she reached their door and pushed the panel of woven tree branches aside before ducking inside. She took a brief moment to adjust to the pale glow from the shroomlights before sitting on the lone bed along the back wall. The single room was sparsely furnished, just some rough wooden shelves attached to the ad hoc walls made from a mix of old landing craft panels and planks of wood. They didn’t need anything else. Unlike many of the others, they hadn’t been blessed with children, so a second room hadn’t been needed. Not that she and Buros hadn’t wanted children, but consecutive miscarriages had taught them the hard way that it wasn’t in the cards. So Eileen had put her energy into other peoples children; making sure they were fed and clothed, happy and safe. That was how she’d found purpose in their unintended exile. She turned to one of the smaller shelves, over the bed, once her breathing returned to normal. She took down various bowls containing medicinal plants foraged from the planet. She began adding small amounts to a cup of water kept by the bed, feeling much like a witch brewing a potion. A touch of this, a dash of that… All she needed was a bit of eye of newt. The resulting concoction tasted as fowl as such a witches brew must surely taste, but it helped her condition, made it easier to get through the day without a vise squeezing her chest. She made a face. The concoction defied getting used to, like drinking mud. The door creaked aside again, and Buros peeked in before entering. His tall frame almost didn’t fit inside and his greying hair almost brushed the ceiling. He sat by Eileen’s side and took the cup from her hands and glanced at the undissolved dregs of her medicine left behind at the bottom. Ghamaar: We need to get you off this planet… Eileen glanced at the door. Rosenblatt: I won’t leave them behind… Eileen Rosenblatt and Buros Ghamaar Simmed by Ensign Vylaa zh'Tisav Engineering Officer USS Gorkon
  4. Really digging the vibe of the opening, and picking up on the passage (and the theme!) of time. Well done @Bryce Tagren-Quinn, fantastic writing! -- ((Unknown Location, Rogue Planet)) Tickticktickticktickticktickticktick. The sound of a wristwatch marched on, dinging off the rock walls of the damp converted caverns. With the acoustics in such a place, it was almost like music. Music, that made her think back to happier times. Easier times. Less conflicted times. Less tumultuous, less fighting. Her dark eyes watched the heartbeat of the second hand ticking away in a sort of visible jolted fashion on the watchface, her thoughts consumed by the memories of the wrist it once adorned. Her father’s. Shaking her head at the thought, she pushed down the gray-green sleeve of the ill-fitted jacket she wore, covering the watch, and blew out a breath. He often spoke about the past, of a world she never knew. A world he promised to show her, but died before even having gotten the chance. His final words were that of apologies, garbled as they were, a hand covered in blood reaching, trembling into her long dark, curly tresses as he laid on his back on the surface of this world. Her hair, wild and long and blowing in the wind, catching some of the blood. He said he was sorry he could never take her back. His eyes, once bright and blue, slipping into the depth of darkness by the second. But, it didn’t matter. It was a world she never experienced, never knew. His final words were focused on pieces that mattered to him and he failed to see how his passing ripped her apart in different ways. Her hand had found its way to his wrist, guiding his hand onto her cheek, thumb smearing red, as he shuddered out his final breaths. The past would not repeat itself. Voices traveled down the corridor. Lights positioned along the walls cast obscure shadows across various formations, some of which were used as a means to provide storage for some of the equipment… and others, places to lock potential threats. Pulling the courage from within, the tall form moved around a bended corner, catching sight of some of the elders, causing her steps to slow. She studied them, crossing her arms, her face slowly shifting from curiosity to anger. Lips, normally full but chapped, set in a firm line. After a moment or two of considering her moves, she charged forward, her wild hair flowing in thick curls behind her. A door opening, a scuffle… voices… Her feet carried her faster until she was there… with the interlopers, sealing the door behind her. Courage found in the plasma rifle slung across her body, heart beating wildly against the strap. The strange blue creature had… zh’Tisav: Human?! A pause, and rage coursed through her… zh’Tisav: Cardassian?! It was at this moment, she raised her hand and thumped down HARD onto the blue one’s head, disorientating the creature, and allowing it to loosen its hold on one of the elder’s throats. How… infuriating and dull could the elders be?! The human woman coughed a few times in pain before holding up a pleading hand. Rosenblatt: ::Raspy:: Please, this is all a big misunderstanding! They’re just kids! Ghaamar: They didn’t know what they were doing. Never even seen a runabout... O’ Marshall/ Fortune: response Kelley: I would hardly call myself a child! And a runabout? ::she laughed sardonically:: That’s not entirely true and you know it! She planted her hands on her hips, throwing back her head. O’Marshall/Fortune/Rosenblatt/Ghaamer: Response Seething, she spun around at the group – a human male, a blue creature she thought now was called an Andorra, and a dark-eyed female – in strange uniforms. Uniforms with similar symbols to her father’s but that carried deception and pain before. This was HER home and she would be damned if she’d allow ANYONE to rip everything she knew away from her. Kelley: I wouldn’t listen to them. We know why you’re here. O’Marshall/Fortune/Rosenblatt/Ghaamer: Response Kelley: Time and time again we’ve heard those same stories and every single time… someone dies. Her face twisted, her hand touching smoothed down faint features along her forehead. O’Marshall/Fortune/Rosenblatt/Ghaamer: Response – Ark’Va Kelley ??? Rogue Planet As simmed by: Ensign Bryce Tagren-Quinn, M.D. Medical Officer USS Gorkon (NCC-82293) T238909AT0
  5. @Quinn Reynolds - a fun, beautifully written sim wrapped in mystery and hidden meanings, and an abundance of glorious, lovely detail. Loved it! ((Island Town, Rogue World)) A storm was coming. Dark cyan clouds churned overhead, the taste of rain misted the air, and the wind whistled through carmine leaves. The forest’s susurrus washed over the town, and it was as the trees felt the same sense of unease as its people, whispering their foreboding to any who would listen. They gathered in the centre, around the Great Tree which held the soul of the town, its boughs swollen with plump, indigo fruits. Sheltered underneath, they spoke urgently with one another, in a tongue learned less than a turn ago. The astute might notice that the proportions of the surrounding buildings were very generous for the people who lived inside them. A propensity toward grand architecture, perhaps. A balcony overlooked the town centre. A figure stood watch upon it, a citrine gaze fixed on the distant location where the alien shuttle had landed. The sheer drapes which separated balcony from interior parted, shifting and shimmering like sunlight on frost. Another figure joined the first; pale lavender hair spilled over shoulders like silk, eyes as red as the rubies birthed in the planet’s crust. She—in as much as her body appeared feminine—looked in the same direction as the other, and a frown creased a smooth brow. Kjara: Do these ones also come to make war? Janoch: I do not know. ::He—insofar as this form assumed masculine traits—shook his head.:: Perhaps they think we make war on them. Our existence threatens theirs. Kjara: Perhaps these bodies will stay their hostility. The familiar is less frightening. ::She paused, her voice uncertain.:: But the trees sing of the weapons they carry. He nodded, slowly. The same warnings had reached his ears—so to speak—and the same disquiet threaded through his blood. The Lost Ones sometimes cried out in their invisible voices, pleading for the life left behind to hear them. They marked time strangely, in orbits of a star and rotations of a world many of them had never seen. Twenty-five of their markings they mourned, raging and weeping about the time stolen from them. It was a sad state of affairs. But sympathy for the Lost Ones varied like the amber tides. Some wished to help them home, feeling their pain as if it were their own. Others thought they had brought their misfortune upon themselves, motivated by greed and hatred, invading lands not their own to carve scars upon the world. But it didn’t matter. Whatever their wishes, the Wandering could not be denied. Janoch: Yes. They hide their ship and bear weapons. But they also bring devices of sensing and science. As we practise caution, perhaps so do they. ::He paused.:: Do we have any news from the Artificers? Kjara: They continue to labour. ::She paused.:: I have hope. They have never failed us before. Janoch: Then we shall let them labour without disturbance. ::He turned, stopping halfway to catch Kjara’s gaze.:: Let us greet these new invaders. Kjara: Very well. But if their intentions are ill, we shall deal with them as we always have. Our home is not their trophy. Janoch: We will walk the path. He nodded. Others had come before, as she had spoken. Gone now, doomed by their avarice and arrogance. Cleanly done. Kindly done. The Guardians saw to that. And the Guardians would see to those who approached, if they divined their presence or intentions a threat. He hoped it would not come to that, but resigned himself to the possibility it might. It was time to find out. -- Janoch and Kjara ?Townsfolk? The Rogue World simmed by Vice Admiral Quinn Reynolds Commanding Officer USS Gorkon T238401QR0
  6. This is a really lovely sim by Tahna Meru; beautifully written, with lovely character development. A great way to explore a character from a different perspective. Bravo! ((Starfleet Academy, San Francisco Campus, Earth)) The windows of Archer Hall reflected the sunset, pinks and oranges and golds splashed across their glistening surface, the vibrant colors of the sky slowly chased down into the bay by the deep blue of oncoming twilight. Trees and shrubs lined the path back to his dormitory, still the boring, unimaginative green of summer vegetation. Renas wasn’t sure when they’d begin turning, but he was excited for his first autumn on Earth, reportedly cooler and more golden than summer. It would be weird, experiencing an autumn without helping with the kava harvest. He’d laughed when, at the end of spring semester, Alex had suggested they spend an afternoon picking strawberries “for fun.” He’d intended to leave picking and weeding and farming and growing all behind on Bajor, leave it to the folks who actually enjoyed that work, like his father and sister. Now, eight months into his time on Earth, the harvest season was coming up. And he wouldn’t be participating in any harvest rituals or celebrations, wouldn’t be sorting kava and hauling it all to market. Now, instead of feeling incredulous at the idea that someone would farm “for fun,” he felt…something else, something he couldn’t name. Something that wasn’t hunger, but was gnawing at the pit of his stomach, making him feel twitchy all over. Guilt, maybe? Longing? But it was different, this time, from when he’d felt those emotions in the past. He didn’t like it. He looked down at the PADD in his hands, two quick movements swiping across the screen to forward his new schedule, and place a call. It rang thrice before the screen lit up with a familiar face. Warm brown skin, less tanned now than it was when they were both back on Bajor, unruly hair pulled back in a messy knot, a violet blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a cape. The odd opposite to him, in his freshly-pressed Academy uniform and well-gelled hair. She yawned, covering her mouth with one hand. Tahna: Hey, Ren. Valis: Hey! So I just got next semester’s schedule and sent it your way, did you have any of the professors? She huffed, shifting slightly, and her eyes began slowly scanning the text. Valis: What time is it there anyway? Tahna: You have just interrupted my morning raktajino, thank you very much. He grinned, sporting the same rascal-ish look his family would probably forever associate with him, despite his neat new uniform and sense of duty. Professionality was so hard to maintain; for all that he’d tried, it simply wasn’t in his nature. Valis: Oops. Anyway, see any familiar names? He paused, leaning up against a tree just off the path, rubbing a hand over his chin. She sipped at a raktajino in a Brew Continuum-branded mug. Extra sweet with kava, if he had to guess. He couldn’t stand the stuff—no amount of sweetener was able to mask the bitter, drying tannins, no matter what anyone told him. No thank you, he’d stick to his Maximum Warp Energy Drinks (Matter/Antimatter Berry Mix was by far the best flavor, and maybe if Meru would just give the drinks a chance, she’d agree…). Tahna: I had Commander th’Ellin, Federation Law. She interrupted his musings, flicking away the schedule and making eye contact through the screen. Tahna: He’s a good professor, but he’s got zero tolerance for late work. Stay on top of everything and you’ll be fine. Valis: Got it. What about the others? Mer shook her head, steam from the mug curling up in front of her face in long, translucent tendrils. She closed her eyes, taking in the drink’s unique (overpowering, off-putting) scent. He really appreciated her extra insight on Academy life, but honestly, he’d not had any problems with professors so far. He’d earned straight As, in fact, and he intended to keep it that way. He had every intention of beating his cousin to captain, never mind her five-year head start or her complete lack of interest in a captaincy (he figured those two facts balanced each other out). Valis: So I guess I’ve gotta call you Lieutenant now, not "Mer" or "vaysh¹." She rolled her eyes. Tahna: Bye, Ren. She didn’t end the call, though, just sat there, staring and sipping her raktajino. He began walking again, slowly, because as soon as he rounded the next hill his dormitory would be in sight, and as long as he was out here, not in there, he could delay his evening plans. It was unlike him to delay anything, especially anything where socializing was a key element, but classes and missions and time differences meant this was the first chance he’d had to actually talk to his cousin in months. They’d exchanged notes, of course… ‘Hey, any chance you can put a word in for me with Commander Lowe? I want to join his next project, but he’s only taking upperclassmen,’ he’d write. ‘You think my word goes a lot further than it actually does,’ she’d write back, ‘How are classes?’ He slowed as he neared the crest of the hill. San Francisco was very different from Kashnar. It was really hilly, for one thing. He still wasn’t entirely used to the fact that it wasn’t just kava fields as far as the eye could see. It was also much, much bigger than their tiny farming town. You couldn’t walk from one side of town to the other in a couple hours or less, and everybody didn’t know everybody here. Compared to back home, he felt like a nobody here, and that was both exciting and intimidating. It felt like…well, it felt like standing at the top of a hill, looking down at a bay of endless potential. Valis: How’s your mother? Meru gave him a funny, tired look. Tahna: Let’s talk about something else. He knew, as well as anyone, the tension between Mer and his aunt. He’d lived with it for nearly two decades, and it only got worse when he was accepted to the Academy. Everyone else in their family was supportive, sure, but Yania² Tahna…she held too tightly to everyone, like she was afraid of being hurt, and it didn’t seem to work well for her. But he knew better than to push the subject, especially when Mer still hadn’t finished her raktajino. Valis: Okay. Well, I have a date tonight. That was one way to change the subject. His cousin raised an eyebrow, hiding a teasing smirk behind her mug. Tahna: Really? Who’s the unlucky guy this time? He snorted. Valis: Okay, rude. I am a great date. And he’s a very handsome Orion, in the nursing program. Fixed me up when I dislocated my elbow sparring last week. He’d even made fun of Renas for the injury, calling him “one of those no-good Command hopefuls,” while he adjusted the joint, his beautiful shoulder-length curls pulled back in a very professional ponytail. Ren had retorted that he was “just another fussy nurse”—it was all very charming, and they were going for seafood tonight. Ren still had to get ready for that date, and he would, as soon as his lazy walk back to the dorms reached its inevitable end. But he considered Mer just as much a sister to him as Tara, despite any technicalities about how they were related, and they hadn’t had a chance to catch up in a while. He didn’t want to end their rare call prematurely, or leave her with the impression that since he joined Starfleet he only cared about how much she could advance his career Tahna: Sounds like an amazing first impression. Think this one’s gonna last any longer than the last–::She paused, making a show of counting up his previous dates on her fingers:: fifty or so? He made a show of pouting. Valis: Why do I bother calling when I know you’re just going to bully me? And yes, this guy feels different. She was kind enough not to point out that he’d also said that about the previous “fifty or so” guys. He meant well, he really did want to be in a relationship, not just date. But it was weird going from knowing all six people in your town who were eligible, to a massive city full of single folks, each as unique as the grains of sand on the beach. Valis: Anyway, you’re one to lecture me about relationships. When was the last time you even went on a date? Another one of the many ways he differed from his cousin. They shared the traits of being overachievers, of longing for the stars, but he’d always been the wild child to her quiet, reserved intelligence. He looked at her now, her expression notably blank. Tahna: I’ve been… busy. Yeah, busy, for what, three years? Four? He didn’t know the specifics of her last relationship, only that Tara told him it ended badly, and since then she’d made the excuse that she was just “too busy” to date. He was living proof that being a chronic overachiever wasn’t entirely at odds with wanting a bit of romance. He wanted to help! She deserved to find a partner to be happy with, but this was a subject she’d consistently avoided with him and Tara both. Not because she wasn’t interested in dating, but because she was scared, and hid it behind excuses of “not having time.” But this was another topic that would go nowhere if he pushed it; Mer could be just as stubborn as every other Tahna and Valis. This time, she changed the subject. Tahna: You’re still going for the Command program, right? He nodded. Valis: Yeah. But it’s… weird. I can’t do much specifically Command track as a first year, and people keep encouraging me to consider other tracks, and it’s… ::He stopped, considering his next words.:: I’m not used to not knowing where I fit. Tahna: There’s a million ways to the chair. He nodded; he’d heard those very words about a million times from different professors, and he knew she’d heard them plenty too, even if she’d never considered that path for herself. Tahna: I don’t think I ever told you—it was too embarrassing at the time—but my first year roommate introduced me to everyone we met, incorrectly, for a year. Ren’s eyes widened as his thoughtful look morphed into a curious smile, his command woes temporarily forgotten. She hadn’t told him this, or Tara, or anyone else in their family as far as he knew. And what a quintessentially Meru story it sounded like! She was never smart enough to stay out of trouble for long. Valis: No, really? Meru nodded, one corner of her lips tilting up in the tiniest dimpled smile. Tahna: Yep. She was human, and so proud of herself for reading up on Bajoran culture before we met. She read enough to know that Tahna was my family name, but not enough to know that typically only their closest family and friends use a Bajoran’s given name. She proudly introduced me to all her friends as “my roommate, Meru!” Ren gasped, then laughed, a boisterous laugh he got from his father. Tahna: I was too timid to correct her, and no one else she introduced me to knew better so I didn’t want to seem rude, and she seemed so confident. ::She shook her head.:: It was uncomfortable at first, and then I got used to it, I guess. She paused to sip her raktajino before setting the mug aside. She must’ve finally finished it. Her face was more serious now, more alert. Tahna: Then, I joined the Gorkon, and I was so used to being known as Meru and so scared of seeming standoffish, because of that well-meaning roommate, that I didn’t know how to introduce myself anymore when I met my crewmates outside of a work setting. Thankfully, they’d all had a lot more experience with Bajoran culture than her, and no matter how I introduced myself, even the people who became my friends called me Tahna. Still do. ::She smiled softly, and the look in her eyes was that of a person a million lightyears away from their body, lost in a fond memory.:: They didn’t even realize they were doing it, but they gave my name back its power. Valis: That’s…yeah. He trailed off, lacking the words to respond, but he understood. “Timid” had never been an accurate descriptor for Renas, but he understood feeling out of place, even among friends, even in your own body. But she just smiled at him from the screen of his PADD, the same encouraging smile and deep brown, nearly black eyes she shared with Tara. The same sisterly attitude, too; always ready to help others, but hesitant to accept help herself. Tahna: Keep at it, Ren. You’ll find your place. He nodded, standing outside the entrance to his dorm now, with the sun hanging so low in the sky it almost appeared to melt into the sea. He ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat, grinning with all the cockiness he usually boasted. Valis: Aye, Lieutenant. Now if I’m dismissed, I’ve got a date. ¹ Bajoran: jerk ² Bajoran: aunt -- Cadet Valis Renas 1st Year Cadet Starfleet Academy as simmed by Lieutenant (j.g.) Tahna Meru Science Officer USS Gorkon (NCC-82293) G239801TM4
  7. I see our ’new’ ensign will fit right in with our crew. 😆 (( Shuttle Bay, USS Gorkon )) Ten steps, turn, ten steps, turn. The shuttle had docked 15 minutes ago, and Asra was pacing the shuttle bay. From zer approach, ze could see that apparently the majority of the crew were milling about outside the ship, which seemed like a strange life choice but Asra was aware that schooling rarely matched practice. Still, ze was *fairly* sure the crew were supposed to be on the INSIDE of the ship, not the outside. Ten steps, turn, ten steps, turn. Lil Claw: You don't have to wait for anyone. Asra: I'm not waiting. I'm pacing. Lil Claw: Ask the ship where the captain is... Asra: Admiral Lil Claw: ... and it will tell you. You know this. You've been rehearsing it for the past three hours. Asra: What if she hates me? Lil Claw: she won't. Asra: But what if she DOES? Lil Claw: Then you can stay in your quarters and dangle a piece of string above me. I'll roll on my back and bat at it. It will be adorable. She stopped pacing. Asra: It WOULD be adorable. Lil Claw: Also, I can't talk, so don't talk to me. Asra: Right. Lil Claw: Mew? Asra: Excellent point. Lil Claw: Mrrp. Moving carefully so as to not dislodging the kitten from zer shoulder -- or worse, cause it to dig in for stability -- ze picked up her bag and put it on zer other shoulder. One more check that her uniform was in place. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Asra: Computer, locate Admiral Reynolds. (( Saucer Section Exterior Hull, USS Gorkon )) Nope. Being on the outside of the hull didn't make more sense when ze was there instead of just looking. oO If I could find where the field controls are, I could murder the entire crew by disabling.... oh,crap, I hope there aren't any telepaths in the crew. HI TELEPATHS I WAS NOT PLANNING TO MURDER THE CREW I AM JUST CONCERNED FOR SHIP SAFETY. Oo Deep breath in. Wince slightly while Lil Claw climbs up onto zer head for a better view. Deep breath out. Ze scanned the crew for the Admiral; not exactly the easiest to spot, but ... was that her partner? Ze made her way towards them, trying not to draw too much attention to zerself. Yes -- there she was. Talking to a few people. Command staff. Well. Now or never. Asra: Admiral, Ensign Asra, reporting for duty. Ze gave a crisp salute only marred slightly by the kitten batting at her hand as she did. Reynolds: Response Asra: Sorry for interrupting, I had been told to report to you first thing on arrival. I assume they MEANT to add, unless she's at a party outside the ship, then you can wait until after, but they didn't, and so, um, hello. ::Ze gave a weak grin:: Reynolds/Brunsig/Sevo/Marshall: Response Lil Claw: Mow. -- Ensign Asra Sec/Tac Officer O238601KG0
  8. I have always loved each and every award ceremony I have read, because they are a love poem to the crew to all the good things that have happened, and it allows you to be very emotional and uplifting. I also think they are one of the MOST DIFFICULT scenes to write, because there is so much text that it is difficult to handle often, and keeping a pleasant pace, not forgetting ANY DETAIL of what the crew has done, spending time to recall a bit of each and every one of the crew members and, at the same time, giving a glimpse into the mind of the character from whose perspective it is written is a real CHALLENGE. However, here @Quinn Reynolds and @Jo Marshall do it EXCELLENTLY and not only that, but with some of the most beautiful and evocative descriptions I've read in a while. A sample of their greatness as writers, as gorkon staff, and as people as a whole. Wonderful work, my congratulations to Em & Em and, by extension, to all the crew of the Gorkon! Part I Part II
  9. I love when there is a bit of worldbuilding around alien spacies we barely have two hints about. Couple it with some insight of a character a mystery unfolding and i'm here eager for more. Good job @Bryce Tagren-Quinn ((Personal Quarters, USS Gorkon)) Getting lingering to do’s checked off the list was a great feeling. The long-awaited counseling session with Doctor Randall via secure subspace transmission went without a hitch. They talked about his transition to the Gorkon and how he felt about future sessions with the counseling team on the ship. While Bryce had shared his reservations, Randall had indicated what he felt was normal; which, of course, they both knew. Before he could dwell on the conversation even further, another one blinked for his attention as he sat at the edge of his bed. Glancing at the PADD, he pressed the key to accept in the incoming call and quickly adjusted his hair, knowing the woman on the other end would pick up on infinitesimal details. A few seconds elapsed before she appeared on the screen; her eyes, an unnatural vibrant green, and her hair a fiery shade of red. Her skin was pale and smooth. Long earrings dangled from her dainty ears; a bold, banded agate necklace hung in a 20 inch drop. Her clothes, airy and almost robe-like, made of silk and chiffon, floral and loud. He put on his best smile; not too forced, though, or else she would ask probing questions right out of the gate. She was an eccentric woman, a deeply insightful one. It was almost… scary. Lelian: Bry, you are looking well. His grandmother, a full-blooded El-Aurian and survivor of the SS Lakul. She was likely over 500 years old but didn’t look a day over… 25? She was a mystery to him, even if they have had some interactions over the years. It was… just still mind-boggling to him sometimes. Tagren-Quinn: Thanks, so are you. How have you been? And they chatted about little things, nothing in particular. He figured she was just checking in on him but he also knew that Lelian wasn’t one to call without purpose. Maybe she genuinely wanted to see how… Lelian: You have another El-Aurian on the ship, don’t you? Bryce blinked, confusion etched across his features. Tagren-Quinn: Um, what… why would you ask… Lelian: Oh, nevermind. It’s my mistake. But tell me… have you found your place to exist? Her intense, penetrating gaze locked onto his eyes as she said it, and Bryce could have sworn—his abdominal muscles clenched violently, and he had to turn his head and blink back tears as stomach acid reached up his esophagus and burned into his throat. He coughed into a balled up hand. Tagren-Quinn: Ex-excuse me? Blinking rapidly at the screen, he saw her eyebrow arch. Lelian: On the Gorkon, I mean. Have you settled in? Tagren-Quinn: Yes… Lelian: So, you’ve found your place to exist? And again, it happened but this time Bryce was able to reach for his wastebasket. It took him a moment to compose himself, wiping the back of his hand along his lips before his gaze reached Lelian’s on the monitor once again. That look. She had the smuggest look on his face. Like she knew a secret. Like she was on the cusp on some grand discovery. What the hell did… Lelian: I knew it. Tagren-Quinn: What… what are you talking about? Lelian: Af-Kelt1. Tagren-Quinn: Half Celt? What… what does that mean? All she did was smile and shake her head. Lelian: We’ll talk again soon, vea-nevra2. And that was that. The communication ended abruptly. The doctor just sat there, blinking and staring at his floor, processing the exchange in total, utter confusion. He dumped the contents of his wastebasket into the recycler before setting his PADD on the nightstand, brushing his teeth, and moving into the living space where Ensign Martin Watson was. Tagren-Quinn: Hey Martin, how was your day? Bryce strolled over to the replicator but made sure to offer a small smile, even if his mind was preoccupied. Watson: Response Tagren-Quinn: Sickbay was busy but… you know, a day in the life. Just had a few calls I wrapped up on. He threw a thumb over his shoulder. Hence the sequestering in his bedroom. Watson: Response Tagren-Quinn: Crackers, saltine. Ginger tea, hot, lightly sweetened. The order was placed in the replicator and, in a matter of seconds, the items appeared before him. He took a nibble on a cracker and sipped on the tea, planting himself at the table in the process. Tagren-Quinn: How… how have you been settling in? This time, with the cracker and tea easing his raging stomach, Bryce’s smile was a bit more clear though the fact, the irony that he had been asked the same question by his grandmother was not lost on him. Watson: Response OOC: 1af-kelt →a form of time sickness unique to El-Aurians, often because of a time disturbance or an echo of their own future. 2vea-nevra → unknown; believed to be a term of endearment, perhaps between a grandparent and grandchild. -- Ensign Bryce Tagren-Quinn, M.D. Medical Officer USS Gorkon (NCC-82293) T238909AT0
  10. Auw. @Jo Marshall ((Personal Quarters, USS Gorkon)) Despite living in space for numerous years of his life, Chris still found waking up in the middle of the night oddly satisfying. Black space outside of their window, the quiet hush of the starship, the thrumming of the engine beneath his feet, and the tranquillity of it all leant a serenity to it. Like a chaotic explosion of silence where it could be as loud as an actual explosion when it wanted to be. Lay in bed, he stared up at the curved ceiling above them, listening to the soft, gentle noises of Valesha breathing beside him. They'd had easier times, and without a doubt, they'd had worse ones, and maybe still worse ones to come. But the last few had torn a shred out of the young Russian in ways he couldn't quite explain. His best friend, the most Vulcan of Vulcans, had accused his wife, the woman he loved beyond all else, of trying to murder everyone on the starship they called home. Moving as slowly as he could manage, he dropped a bearded, delicate kiss on Valesha's warm forehead. Though she'd found sleep eventually—the three of them had curled on the sofa, enjoying the comforting presence of their tribe and the intimacy it afforded—Chris knew the torrent of thoughts would be twirling in her mind, pirouetting through memories of what happened in the laboratory, and if she had missed anything vitally significant, like the burning desire to set the laboratory ablaze in a fiery inferno. Worry deepened the crevice between his eyebrows as he turned, setting his feet down on the floor and his hands running over his face, through his hair. Desperation kindled low in his gut; the need to protect his family, to be the shield between Valesha and Vorin, all the while unable to reconcile the accusor with his friend. They were not the same man. They couldn't be the same man. A small, radiating rumble tumbled out of the basket beside their bed—their daughter awake, maybe sensing his mood, feeling the vibrations of his turmoiled emotions on the air. Not loud enough to wake Valesha, not strong enough to be a real cry for attention, but a grousing noise, reaching for what she didn't know how to explain yet. Chris stood, his ballerino feet flexing into the lush carpeting as he padded around to their protesting baby. Her tiny arms stretched up over her head, legs tried to kick at the covering beneath her, lips pushing at an invisible source of food. Seeing her little face brought a wide grin to his and he scooped her up gently to his shoulder, his hands almost as big as her body, cradling her head in his palm. C. Sienelis: There we go, krasivaja. You hungry, huh? Definitely my daughter if you're ready for a midnight snack. Noises emanating from the infant made his heart twist, to think they'd waited for her to come into the universe, watched her grow and take shape, and felt her move and wriggle before she was born. It wouldn't be long before she could crawl, walk, talk, and start taking over the galaxy piece by piece. Until then, she was the grousing baby on his shoulder with tiny fingernails trying to find purchase on his bare skin, and looking at her mother with the same kind of green eyes that Chris did at a full stack of blini. His eyes followed, resting on his sleeping partner, affection brimming in ways that twisted his core beautifully. Love curled around his spine; love for who she was, love for her bravery, her courage, her softness, her endless sarcasm… Their little girl made her presence known once more, this time a little louder, accompanied by a deeper breath through tiny nostrils inflating tiny lungs. With a nuzzled kiss on his daughter's cheek as they walked into the living room, Chris whispered into her tiny ear. C. Sienelis: Let's give her another few minutes. Mama's earned it, don't you think? -- PO First-Class Christopher Sienelis Operations Officer USS Gorkon
  11. The MAYHEM @Tahna Meru 😂 ((Bridge, Deck 1, USS Gorkon)) Gorkon bingo. What a concept. Get into a little trouble, have a little fun...try not to get demoted. They approached the doors, and Meru looked at her friend. For purposes of this assignment, using tricorders to keep tabs on nearby crew almost felt like cheating, so they’d been left behind. “Standard sensor checks,” that was their excuse if they got caught. The women shared a nod, and opened the doors—with the ship in dock, the bridge was blessedly empty, but they knew it might not stay that way for long. There was always some security officer around keeping tabs, and a whole shift ready to take over the bridge at a moment's notice. But for now, for at least a few minutes, they had the bridge all to themselves. It was almost too easy, and that made Meru nervous, but she didn't let it show, instead projecting an air of supreme confidence. Tahna: Step one clear. Time to bring in the operative. Ena stood at attention, in the typical Bajoran military fashion, and making Meru giggle with her salute. Ico: Aye aye, sir! They’d enlisted the help of a massive dog bone to convince CC to wait in a Jefferies tube that led to the bridge. Now, they just had to get the uniform on, sit her in the Captain's chair, and take a picture. Simple. Tahna: To the tube! Ena squealed, and the girls moved to the Jefferies tube outlet. Meru opened the tube's hatch on the bridge, calling into it in a sing-songy voice. Tahna: Cheeeeesecaaaaake! Ico: Come here, puppy! Come here CC! Watanabe: Borrobork! Cheesecake’s bark echoed through the tube, but there was no sign of movement. Just the squeak of a giant dog bone rubbing against tooth and metal as an equally giant dog broke it into pieces. The Bajorans shared a glance. Ico: I think she doesn't want to leave the tube Tahna: Why? I thought she would just come when called. It’s occurring to me that I don’t really understand how dogs work. Ico: I don't know, maybe the bone we have replicated is just too good? Maybe we should go in and look for her. Another shared glance, and Meru began shaking her head, knowing what Ena was thinking before she even said it. Too much mischief had been accomplished together to not understand what that look meant. Ico: I think I'm too tall to fit there.... hummm why don't you go inside? You can grab the bone or the CC collar, and I'll pull your feet from here to get you both out. Tahna: You are barely taller than me. ::She held up her two fingers, barely separated, to illustrate the difference.:: A smidge! Ico: Well, do you have a better plan? Tahna: Replicate another bone? But why would CC want this bone when she already had one in the tube? Meru frowned at the dark green carpet, sighed, and looked back to the tiny Jefferies tube. Tahna: Alright. Fine. But you better not drop me this time, or I’ll see your rotation in security is doubled! Could she do that? She had no idea, actually, and there was a good chance they’d both be doing unpleasant jobs for the next month if they didn’t hurry up and were caught. Detail cleaning test tubes with a sonic toothbrush, scrubbing the transporter pads…who knew what the appropriate punishment was for sitting a dog in the Captain’s chair. Though there weren’t any strict rules against it as far as she knew (because hadn't needed to be), just…it wasn’t exactly professional or appropriate. Ico: Response Meru crawled into the tube head-first, not having to go very far before she ran into the big dog and her dog breath and dog slobber and…dogs were best experienced in less cramped quarters, she decided. Room with more air to breathe and disperse the dog odors. Tahna: Hi, CC. Come on, now. Watanabe: Response She grabbed the dog’s bone in one hand, her collar in the other, and waved the wet, slobbery, gross bone just out of Cheesecake’s reach. Yeah, dogs were definitely better experienced out of the Jefferies tubes in the open. Tahna: Okay, pull me up! And please don’t drop me, she silently added, as she felt the hands gripping her ankles. Ico: Response When they emerged into the twilight of the early morning bridge, Meru dropped the slobbery bone on the carpet, wiped her hand on her pants, and rolled over onto her back. She took several deep, blissfully dog-breath free breaths, eyes closed, before sitting up and looking at her friend. Her friend, who looked so smug to have not been the one dropped down the tube in pursuit of the hound. Tahna: Get that uniform on her and get her in the chair, quick! Ico/Watanabe: Response ((OOC: Leaving room for you to expand here as you wish, since I jumped a bit to catch up to the Addison sim.)) After begging, bribing, and wrestling the massive dog into the uniform (and using up more of their precious time), Captain Cheesecake Watanabe was born. Meru helped situate the dog in the chair (glad to have thought to bring a lint roller to clean up the mess afterward). She looked at Ena and giggled. Tahna: Captain Watanabe on the bridge! Ico/Watanabe: Response They had almost gotten away with it. Almost got in and out without being spotted, almost checked off a square on Gorkon bingo without facing any repercussions, almost broken FedNet and Baj-gram in one fell swoop. If it weren’t for a single meddling crewman (who, to be fair, wasn’t meddling so much as doing his job, but nonetheless…). Addison: Whuh… ::He had to work to get the words past his dry tongue:: What are you doing?! His PADD clattered to the floor, his mouth hanging open like he was trying to catch liccie bugs. Meru stared at the PADD, trying to buy time to think of an appropriate excuse. “Sensor checks” was their plan if they were caught without the dog, but with the dog… She frowned. The PADD was set up in word processor mode—he was writing something, and not a report. Ico: Response Addison: But… You’re not supposed to b...be here. And that… dog really isn’t supposed to be here! Tahna: Cheesecake Watanabe is a member of the counseling staff, she’s not just any dog. Ico: Response He finally noticed his PADD, forgotten on the floor, and retrieved it, seeming embarrassed. Good. That writing was their bargaining chip. Addison: What are you doing anyway? Right, time for the excuse. He may or may not be interested in Gorkon bingo, but he surely would have some sympathy for creative expression, given his apparent writing on duty. Meru cleared her throat and stood at attention, locking eyes with the helmsman. She let confidence drip from her voice, confidence she didn’t feel but had gotten quite adept at faking. Tahna: Cheesecake Watanabe is a member of the Gorkon’s counseling staff, and belongs to Lieutenant Alieth, Chief Science Officer. We were making a birthday card for Alieth, to show our appreciation to her as our department chief. Birthday card for Alieth? Maybe she should have spent a little longer coming up with an excuse. Though Alieth seemed to have a mischievous streak herself, so maybe this was exactly the sort of birthday card she’d appreciate. That was happening soon, wasn’t it? Ico/Addison/Watanabe: Response Tahna: We were already planning to clean up after ourselves, you don’t need to worry about any of that. It’ll be like we were never here. And, if you need someone to provide feedback on your…story…I like to read. She raised an eyebrow, offered a hint of a smile. The last sentence toed the line between a friendly offer and a threat, though she definitely meant it to be more friendly; neither of them were operating exactly within their specified job parameters tonight, it seemed. Ico/Addison/Watanabe: Response -- Lieutenant (j.g.) Tahna Meru Science Officer USS Gorkon (NCC-82293) G239801TM4
  12. @Alieth- the depth in which you write for your characters never ceases to amaze me. So many intricate layers, rich and vibrant worlds and lives. Real. Nicely done!! ((Primary Sickbay, Deck 7, USS Gorkon)) Alieth had gone to the Gorkon's main sickbay, not as a medical officer, whether official or unofficial, but to undergo the mandatory medical check-up as she approached her first year of service on the starship. And, incidentally, to make an assessment of the minor injuries she had experienced on the Sasu Gol since, like a competent physician, despite being knowledgeable enough to know when the sickbay needed to be treated, she had a penchant for downplaying her own wounds or healing them on her own. Poorly, most times than not. This had even been a recurring point of argument with some of her fellow Academy colleagues, such as Ikaia or Robin, but she had never quite managed to get out of the habit, something that both of them, each stationed in a different part of the galaxy, never failed to point her out now and then. The man in charge of her check-up had been the same newly arrived doctor from whom she had stolen the operating theatre to attend to Desoa's injuries, which had forced an apology, so the start of the process had been suboptimal in the Vulcan's estimation. However, the ensign had demonstrated far more bedside manners than she had ever managed to develop and had followed the process carefully, all the way up to the regulations and without dwelling on points that the Vulcan did not feel too inclined to elaborate on. Such as, for example, the physical consequences that stress had had and still was having on her. She could argue that it was a natural reaction, admittedly, yet she should have been overcoming or suppress it weeks ago, and she saw that a flaw in her behaviour that embarrassed her. Bryce-Quinn focused however on the physical wounds, with special care on the sensitive Vulcan hands, to finally consider said injuries healed. The process moved on, questions and answers, as the young-looking, elderly-eyed man kept taking notes. At a certain point, the biobed dinged with an abnormal result, a red light flashing on the mirrored display near Alieth's face. The petite Vulcan's eyebrows furrowed as she tried unsuccessfully to read the reversed results. Alieth: What is wrong, doctor Tagren-Quinn? Tagren-Quinn: Your CMP and nutrition labs just came in. You are showing some deficiencies. The Vulcan's lips narrowed into a thin line. It was true that her meals lately had been sporadic at best, and that she lived on zhar-kur tei and coffee more days than not, but she didn't think it had become a problem. Yes, perhaps her cheekbones and jawline were more pronounced than usual, and perhaps the complexion of her face was more pronouncedly angular than customary, but he was not aware that she had reached a point that would show up on the scans. She leaned forward to try to unravel the set of spider feet that rolled in the hologram in front of her. Alieth: What are the deficiencies I need to be aware of? Tagren-Quinn: Are… are you able to read this test result for me? He indicated the screen and swivelled it to give her a better angle. She squinted a little more until her eyes became two tiny slits. Alieth: ::blinking in confusion:: No, I cannot. The doctor's face contorted into that expression that each and every emotional doctor Alieth had ever met wore when they discovered something intriguing. The kind that made humans shout "Eureka" and Vulcans murmur "fascinating". Tagren-Quinn: When did you first notice the visual disturbances? Alieth's lips tightened tighter than her eyes had ever tightened before. She stared at Tagren-Quinn, with a look that would have possibly turned the man to ashes at that very point if willpower could be turned into a burst of obliterating energy. Eventually, she let out the tiniest of sighs. Alieth: About a month and a half. ::Her own lack of precision prompted the corner of her mouth to curl down minutely before she corrected herself.:: Forty-two days and seven hours. Tagren-Quinn: Response The petite Vulcan looked away from the meandering letters she couldn't read and focused somewhere behind the doctor's shoulder, on the dance of slightly blurred lights that was the sickbay to her. It soon became apparent to her that she recognised some of the crewmen there not by their features, but by the way they moved, a further sign that there was a problem. Alieth: Indeed, that sort of defect runs in the family. Frequent in Vulcans who have spent a lot of time in the Forge's sands. My records probably contain information about my family medical background in that regard. Tagren-Quinn: Response The image of his father carrying visual aids appeared in her mind's eye, even though it was something that had happened thirty-nine years ago. A tiny grimace stirred Alieth's placid features for a fleeting moment. Even the solemn, graceful Saros had been little flattered by the device. And she would handle the thing with even less elegance. Alieth: Indded, za-thakau-nosh1 and fa-thakau-nosh2 ::Her gaze returned to the young doctor.:: As far as I know, it is operable once it has reached its full development. At what stage is it? Tagren-Quinn: Response Alieth: That is inconvenient. Alieth: She anticipated that she would not like the answer, but she asked anyway. Which measures can we take until it is fully developed? Tagren-Quinn: Response OOC: 1za-thakau-nosh → an abnormal condition of the eye in which vision is better for distant objects than for near objects. Often coupled with other eye musculature problems. 2fa-thakau-nosh → eyesight abnormality resulting from the eye's faulty refractive ability; distant objects appear blurred; near-sightedness ================================= Lt. Alieth Chief Science Officer USS Gorkon NCC-82293 E239702A10 Image Collective Facilitator /Art Director =================================
  13. ((Outside the office of Lieutenant Fortune, Deck 7, USS Gorkon)) The day had been a disaster so far, pretty high on Shah's screw-o-meter scale, not so much on the scare-oh-by-my-grandmother's-beards-someone-amputated-some-of-my-limbs scale, but pretty high on the tired-and-abashed-enough-to-wish-that-a-mudwhale-would-devour-me-to-end-my-agony-pleasethankyouverymuch scale. An 8 out of 11, if you were a Vulcan and you asked him for figures, how those prick-eared green goblins use to fancy. Anyway, anyway, he was still sore, exhausted and had slept less than a cardassian vole trying to get to the bottom of a bottle of kanar, and on top of that he was sitting tight next to the guy he'd intended to stab the day before but, anyway, things seemed to be going... halfway right. Okay-ish. Tentatively. Who would have thought that apologising would do any good. But whatever it was, he had just been given the news that the brilliant but crazy engineer who had cut off his arm would not be able to be there to give him a new one (as she owed him). Something that slightly annoyed the hirsute chap, but which he somehow understood was due to force majeure. After all, a chief engineer doesn't leave the boat they're repairing in dry dock, with repairs half done, unless they have a fire up their arse or something similar. He just hoped that, wherever she went, that crazy Ferengi would do well. After all, she had shown more nerve and resolve than the overwhelming majority of engineers. Though, she had very shaky hands as a surgeon. A pity, certainly, but surely he needed an arm. And a GOOD one, if he wanted to keep rocking his career in an Admiral Ship. No matter how. Luckily, Starfleet Engineering School churned out a good handful of them every season, though there were VERY, VERY few in which Shah was willing to put himself in their hands. Even fewer than medics, by the way. So, after he scratched his shaggy chin for a moment with his right hand, Shah pointed to one he could actually trust. Tzim-Shah: How about dragging Commander Reynolds into this? Shah almost, almost, laughed when he saw Doctor Baby-Face's lost, blank look on his face. The bloody cub had only been on board for two and a half moons, of course. He stifled a chuckle with a sigh and proceeded to provide the quack with an explanation. Tzim-Shah: I mean Erin Reynolds, not Quinn Reynolds. The one of the plants, not the skipper. After all, she's an engineer too... like the Admiral, but we don't bother the Admiral with little things, do we? The comment made the kid smirk. Tagren-Quinn: No, but… The Tellarite just stared at the physician's pondering. By his grandmother's beard he could almost see the gears of his brain working,, shifting on one foot and then the other while looking at the floor plates as if they knew the answer to the question of the meaning of the universe, of life and of all things. A beat passed before he glanced back up to Shah, who waited expectantly. Tagren-Quinn: …I’ve not met the Commander yet but it’s definitely worth exploring, asking. The security guard on sick leave patted his knee with his good hand and let out a satisfied and undoubtedly porcine grunt. Tzim-Shah: Perfect, let's get to it:: He paused for a moment, not wanting to spoil the good prospects he had by skipping the doctor's insufferable eagerness to map out everything down to the last detail:: Oh well, we have a plan. The beginning of a plan. A planned detail. Tagren-Quinn: Yes, let’s plan on it. We’ll get the surgery checked off the list first and I’ll then see if I can track down Commander Reynolds. This time, he let out a resounding belly laugh. Tzim-Shah: That's the best answer I' ve gotten from you since the day we met, Baby-Face. A device onthe doctor’s wrist dinged and he raised his arm to check it. Tagren-Quinn: Ah, yes. Right, so I should get on to Sickbay and get things prepped. Tzim-Shah: It's all right, kid. See you in a bit. And hey...thanks. Tagren-Quinn: Response Tzim-Shah: I know, but it is important to me. I have my life here. Tagren-Quinn: Response Tzim-Shah: Yeah, yeah. See you later Doc. Tagren-Quinn: Response At that moment, as if he had invoked her, the Counselor's door opened, and a tall, stern-faced Vulcan (a standard Vulcan if ever there was one) stepped out. Behind him, Shah could see the cheerful face of the Counsellor paired with an extremely PINK hair. The Tellarite flashed a smile to himself briefly before he put on his best sulky face. Tzim-Shah: If that beak-eared goblin has eaten all the brittle, I will not be held accountable for my actions! Fortune's reply could not be heard, for the door hissed shut behind Shah. Ensign Tzim-Shah Security Officer on Sick Leave USS Gorkon NCC-82293 simmed by Alieth E239702A10
  14. I love @Bryce Tagren-Quinn 's descriptive capacity and how she unravels parts of her character's character in each sentence. Not to deny that the interaction between these two is always a joy. Great job! ((Outside the office of Lieutenant Fortune, Deck 7, USS Gorkon)) There were some awkward pleasantries, some gruff and puff and, surprisingly, an apology – all in that exact order that fine, tiresome morning in the counselor’s waiting room. Bryce was taken aback for a moment by the Tellarite’s openness but didn’t want to make a big deal over it. He was just doing his job. The fact that he cared deeply about the outcomes of all of his patients wouldn’t flow to the surface like high viscosity lava. With this particular patient (fellow crew member – not just patient), though, it was just best to let things fly and remain steadfast in approach. He’d give the details about the upcoming visit to the lovely little surgical suite right in between the eyes. Tagren-Quinn: The surgery this morning will be quick. I was able to look through your scans last night and the debridement should only take less than twenty minutes. In fact, you will likely feel some immense relief right after. We’ll use some of the tools to promote healing to the area, so you shouldn’t have any breakthrough bleeding. And, it was true. Getting a fresh look at the scans did reveal an alternate method that would shave time in the operating room, and a usage of a variety of instruments would yield optimal results. It was always, always a good idea to reexamine things before diving in and consulting other physicians before proceeding. That’s why doctors weren’t replaced 100% by fancy equipment and technology. Sometimes looking beyond the scans and standard recommendations was necessary. It was a little more involved than just that. Tzim-Shah: That doesn't sound half bad, actually. Tagren-Quinn: I’m not going to lie, recovery will take a few days but we’ll be able to get you in a compression garment and start some desensitization probably in about a week. Before you know it, you won’t have to see my baby face anymore. No more sickbay. That’ll be your motivation, Ensign. He grinned over at the other man, tusks and beard prominent, and was surprised by the laugh that genuinely came from him. They both looked like hell, if he was being honest, but they truly had an excuse. Might as well embrace things as they were. A stretch of silence reemerged though and Bry watched as the Tellarite’s eyes shifted towards the counselor’s closed door before fidgeting some more. Tzim-Shah: So, Doc... The crazy engineer... is she joining in? They would get to that question eventually. Bry opened his mouth to answer but settled with a head shake. He watched the variety of emotions transform Shah’s face. Tagren-Quinn: I believe that it would have been an endeavor she was ready for but she, unfortunately, got called away to other matters. Tzim-Shah: I guess that makes sense. And if she has left the Gorkon with the repairs half done, she really must have had a good reason. We'll find out sometime why she took her away from here... I suppose. A simple nod was the only response given, but Bry could tell that the other man was fighting with some nerves. Tzim-Shah: How about dragging Commander Reynolds into this? Commander Reynolds? That didn’t compute, but he was still getting acquainted with everyone on the ship. Was this person related to the Admiral? Or... The doctor felt his face twist a bit, and the Tellarite picked up on it and offered an explanation. Tzim-Shah: I mean Erin Reynolds, not Quinn Reynolds. The one of the plants, not the skipper. After all, she's an engineer too... like the Admiral, but we don't bother the Admiral with little things, do we? Ahhh. The comment made Bryce smirk. Tagren-Quinn: No, but… He sat on that information for a moment, processing it, shifting on one foot and then the other while his vision wandered to the floor. He wondered but figured he’ll find out more later. A beat passed before he glanced back up to Shah, his blue eyes looking at him expectantly under bushy brows. Can’t keep a Tellarite waiting or else… Tagren-Quinn: …I’ve not met the Commander yet but it’s definitely worth exploring, asking. There was an added piece of as long as he was comfortable but it was Shah’s suggestion after all. He wouldn’t have brought it up if he hadn’t been. Tzim-Shah: Response Tagren-Quinn: Yes, let’s plan on it. We’ll get the surgery checked off the list first and I’ll then see if I can track down Commander Reynolds. No need to rush into it, but they would need to take preliminary steps, make contact, and then think about the groundwork. One step at a time. Tzim-Shah: Response A device on Bry’s wrist dinged and he raised his arm to check it. Tagren-Quinn: Ah, yes. Right, so I should get on to Sickbay and get things prepped. Tzim-Shah: Response -- Ensign Bryce Tagren-Quinn, M.D. Medical Officer USS Gorkon (NCC-82293) T238909AT0
  15. I think Cory's enjoyment of this sim as well as its writer Mike's percolates through the text and is a joy to read, good job @Cory Stoyer ! ((Outskirts of Yarista, Palanon)) Cory quickly got the handle of the quick little speedster. The terrain zoomed by in a blur. Cory’s grin was getting broader as they flew together. But Cory had one thing that needed to change. Stoyer: =/\= I do have one request. Call me Cory. We are friends, Alieth. =/\= There was a delay in her answer. It was possibly due to the terran racing back. Alieth: =/\= That is important to me. Thank you mister... :: She stopped mid-sentence, force of habit causing the wrong name to roll off her lips before she could catch herself up:: Thanks, Cory.=/\= Cory smiled inside his helmet. Stoyer: =/\= You are welcome, Alieth. =/\= Cory was thoroughly enjoying this. The pastures were a green blur, birds flapped away, probably squawking madly. Cory couldn’t hear them. The pair came upon a herd of… Cory thought for a moment, to remember. Pronghorn impalas, that was their name. Alieth and him herded the group in front of them for a while, then they were surrounded by the herd. Even over the noise of the engine, Cory heard the thundering of their hooves. Alieth: =/\= I do not have an abundance of friends in Starfleet, as it is not easy for me to get along properly with non-Vulcans, and my acquaintances and friends on the Gorkon are... even fewer. So I really treasure to count you among them.=/\= Cory listened to Alieth as the herd left them finally and the pair sped up. Alieth: =/\= It is all the more important after... everything that happened. Not just because of what I did to you. ::She lifted a hand off the handlebars to placate any protest he might make.:: But because it was a difficult mission, and she tried her best to do it. I would not have wanted any other officer by my side.=/\= Alieth: =/\= Well, maybe just Jo, and mostly because she would bring coffee...and she would have put her brother in line.=/\= Cory barked a laugh into his helmet. As much as he loved Jo, he didn’t think even she could keep Commander Marshall in check. Stoyer: =/\= Well, I don't know if anyone can keep Commander Marshall in check. Yes, Alieth it was a very difficult mission. The visions, having Petra there and everything. =/\= Alieth: =/\= Well, I will take your word for it, as you know the crew far more than I do. How long, by the way =/\= Cory smiled again, he realized what Alieth was trying to do. Having seen her bowling and trying to win, Cory wasn’t falling for it. He kept an eye on her and the terrain. Stoyer: =/\= I’ve been on the Gorkon since she was commissioned. Over 6 years now. =/\= Alieth: =/\= I see, I guess that time of service will have prepared you for the... unforeseen events. =/\= Cory watched as Alieth did something and then bounced into the air as the hill they were on gave way to a ravine. Cory hit the brakes and skidded to a stop. He stopped at the edge of the ravine. He saw Alieth land on the other side. Cory headed back a ways and turned around. Gunning the engine he flew toward the edge and repeating the same thing Aleith did, Cory bounced into the air and easily cleared the ravine. Stoyer: =/\= Nice job, Aleith. =/\= Alieth: =/\= Response. =/\= Cory opened the throttle wide open in an effort to catch her. She had a good bit of a head start. Grinning like a kid with a new toy, he blasted after her. Stoyer: =/\= Alieth, just so you know, I would follow you on another away mission anytime. =/\= Alieth: =/\= Response =/\= Lieutenant Cory Stoyer Helm/Comms/Ops Officer USS Gorkon C239111CS0
  16. I was catching up reading some sims today and looking for a reference in an "old" sim i've found again this piece of gold. Thanks @Jo Marshallfor let me feel the existential dread of being inside Peek's bain. His fears are now my own. ((Main Engineering, USS Gorkon)) Standing beneath the warming blue glow of the warp drive, Robert Peek looked up into the swirling mass of twisting and mixing fluids within the intermix chamber. His hand stilled their work on the console, his mind moving from thoughts of breakfast croissants consumed in a hurry that very morning, to the existential questions plaguing his life at every given moment. How was he? How was he really? Memories of dead friends haunted his waking hours, those he had seen on Deck 8 and hoping Chris nor Vorin were one of the many or the quantity of the deceased they had evacuated from the ship during the time spent Over There. How could he describe the very fabric of his being? He was Robert Peek. Engineering Yeoman. Crewman. Surviving a daily struggle to maintain order in chaos. The anguish and the turmoil, the passion and the failure. Feeling at once so profoundly connected to all the hearts and minds on board the ship, in the galaxy, in the universe, and so painfully, artfully alone. Did free will exist, or was every action predetermined? His essence, rendered inert, in the tomb of his own mind. Chaos-driven quantum energy processes comprised consciousness. The fundamental meaning of potentiality, and of themselves, was insight. Walking the narrative was being one with it. He was at a fork on the path between coherence and suffering. Humans had interacted with the cosmos through electromagnetic forces throughout history. Humanity had nothing to fear. But was humanity on the cusp of fulfilment within the fragile consciousness of an everlasting universe, or were they perpetually doomed to repeat the same mistakes on a constant, centrifugal cavalcade of destruction? Could people really change, or was everyone doomed to stay the same? Did those who loved him really love him, or did they simply love who they thought he was? The question simple and yet so vastly complicated. Eons from then, those messengers would believe like never before as they are aligned by the infinite. A celestial symphony of subatomic light meridians to sow the seeds of cooperation rather than slavery. His existence essentially an evolving reinvention of pranic nature. He was primordial. This life was nothing short of an invocation evolution of advanced energy. They healed, they lived, and they were reborn as stardust in the ever-changing galactic dance. How should he navigate this angelic solar system? Electrical impulses from the cosmos summoned him. Could he hear them? A soft beep elicited from the console beneath his fingertips and Peek looked down to the alert delivered through the computer system. Peek: Right, ::he smiled, signing out,:: time for lunch. -- Crewman Third Class Robert Peek Engineering Yeoman simmed by Commander Jo Marshall First Officer USS Gorkon, NCC-82293 G239304JM0
  17. I don't have the words for this sim. It left me really tickled, it's just so melodramatic and fun! Kudos, @Vylaa! ((The Great Wastes)) She darted forward from the Great Cave. Eight eyes scanned for danger. Eight legs felt for the vibrations that would tell her when the giant was approaching. The Great Wastes stretched out before her, a massive obstacle she must cross. The Drive pushed her forward. Told her that the Time of Laying was near, and then, Forever Sleep. But she would not End. For within her swollen abdomen waited thousands of her eggs ready to be laid. They would hatch, grow, and eventually experience Times of Laying of their own. She would live on, in them. But first she must cross the Wastes. Her eggs needed to be kept in a warm, safe place. But since the coming of the giant things had not been so warm. Her instinct thus drove her forward. Across the Wastes she could find the Up. And in the Up she could find warmth. She darted forward again, then stopped. Again, she felt for the giant. Again, nothing. Forward again, and after a lifetime she came to the climb. It was flat, like the Wastes. But hard, not soft and bumpy like the Wastes. And vertical, but that was no problem. She had climbed it many times before the giant came and drove her into the Great Cave out of fear. So she climbed. Her goal was where the Upside-Down met the Up. There, she would build her egg sack and lay her eggs. Then she would sleep. Boom! Boom! The vibrations ran up her legs and sparked a burst of speed. The giant had awoken. She must get out of it’s sight or surely she would die. Boom! Boom! It was closer. She froze. Maybe it wouldn’t see her. A shadow. Then nothing. ((Vylaa zh’Tisav’s Quarters)) Vylaa looked on with disgust, first at the sole of her boot and then at the smudge that had once been a spider on her otherwise clean wall. oO Filthy bugs...Oo Ensign Vylaa zh'Tisav Engineering Officer USS Gorkon C238601TB0
  18. Some people leave you forever in awe of their ability to describe things, picking you up and dropping you on another planet while you read like it's as easy as requesting a beam up. @Alieth is one of those people. ((Festival Grounds, Yarista, Palanon)) One of the most important parts of the Festival was over. The lanterns had been released, with their prayers and pleas to the Prophets. The Vedeks had blessed them, they had exchanged gifts and planned dinner for the next day. Now they moved on to another highlight of the evening... DINNER! And luckily the Tyrellians and the Bajorans living in their territory had it all planned and near the wild meadow where the festival had been held a small village of stalls had sprung up, where food and drink from a thousand worlds were served at different booths, with kitchens and replicators singing their songs merrily along with the owners shouting the qualities of their delicacies. There was even Klingon food! Which didn't appeal at all to Ena, who made a face and grabbed Meru's hand to run a little further forward, to a circle of stands surrounding a small roundabout whose centre was occupied by a dozen crescent-shaped tables. Most of them were already occupied, groups of Tyrellians, Bajorans and other species eating together, diverse groups that seemed to have never met before sharing conversation and food. Ena even thought she could make out a Gorkon crew member there, but she wasn't quite sure, as she still found it difficult to recognise most of them out of uniform. The smells there were much more intense, intermingling in a way that made the mouth water. Sweet, spicy, salty, toasty, there were so many options! Ico: Ah, come on Ru, pick something or it'll be a dessert dinner! Tahna: Okay, okay! Ico: ::poking her with a finger:: Hurry up! Her friend looked around for a moment before covering her eyes and spinning around like a top for a few seconds while Ena laughed her head off until, finally, Meru stopped, pointing to a spot over the cadet's shoulder. Tahna: That one! She turned to the stall. The queue discouraged her a little, but soon a smile appeared on her face again. It was part of the adventure, after all. Ico: Let’s go! Much sooner than Ena would have expected when she spotted the throngs of people milling around the stall, both had a bowl in their hands and headed toward the dinning area. The young cadet took a suspicious peek at the food in her hand as they approached the crescent moon-shaped tables. It smelled delicious, sure, with that blend of spices that seemed to be ingrained in every Bajoran's palate, but the look was...well. As colourful as the Tyrellians who had designed it. It was a sort of soup or cream, thick and creamy, with bits and pieces and leaves of various greens and vegetables floating around, served in an edible bowl made of some sort of local grain. The thing is, the vegetables were purple. And blue. And Ena could have sworn that she had a chunk of something minty with magenta polka dots floating on her bowl. Something that... well. It was weird to say the least. However, she WANTED to try new things and, after all, many of her favourite desserts were blue, so... she had to try it. She was ravenous, too, and her stomach reminded her of it with a terrifying grumble when they finally found an open spot between a Tyrellian couple and a bustling group of middle-aged Bajorans and they could sit there to enjoy the dinner.. Tahna: So, you've been on board for a minute now. How is your Gorkon bingo going? Ico: Well I have looked at the Bingo list and .... little else. It all seems a bit risky, don't you think? And... well... WAY too much against the rules… She made a pause and took a spoonful of the purple and blue soup. While the appearance was a little... strange, the taste was delicious and gave her a delighted expression as she rummaged through her bag. Soon her PADD was on the table and she closed several Yarista tourist pamphlets before she got to that ill-fated list. Ena stood up slightly, checking that there were no other Gorkon officers nearby, before she placed the Padd between her and Meru, out of sight of prying eyes. Her friend, meanwhile, had not remained silent. Tahna: That's the point! Bend the rules a little, have fun, get to know the ship! Ico: ::With a mischievous grin::Like what you did with the Cardassian 101 professor? You're a troublemaker, you know that? Tahna: Response The young cadet almost let out a laugh with that retort, which she had to stifle by putting both hands over her mouth and tried desperately to keep the soup from spilling out of her nose. She was only partially successful. Ico: :: Chokingly:: Well, ok ok! :: She glanced over the list once more and scrolled through it for a bit :: What do you think of this one, this one is not... all that bad. She highlighted a line on the screen and tapped on the padd before looking at Meru. It was something simple, a turbolift duel. Just shout out two different decks at the same time and see which one won. It didn't look like it would get them into too much trouble. The worst that could happen was that Ena would be late to water the plants she was tending in hydroponics before her first rotation in Security... Tahna: Response Of course that wasn't going to be enough, of course if it wasn't scary it wasn't funny enough... what happened to people when they graduated from the academy, did they get a hypospray of permanent courage or something? The young cadet pressed her lips together and looked at the list once more... tinting the warp core a colour other than blue seemed complicated, and she didn't want to get into trouble with the starship still in dry dock. A stampede on deck 8 seemed like a bad idea after... well, what had happened on deck 8. Call the Admiral ma'am? No way, that was the quickest way to get yeeted from the Gorkon without an EVA suit, Ryan had warned her STRONGLY against that movement. Ena's eyes flicked up and down the screen in search of something that wasn't dangerous, or inconsiderate, or that would put them on the verge of being court-martialed. Ico: Okay, well, something more risky... ummm, which one haven't you done yet? Maybe we could do one together? Sounded like a plan, didn't it? Besides, Meru was very clever at getting out of trouble, after all, she had already proved it several times. Ena still remembered what had happened in organic chemistry III. The lab hadn't been the same for three weeks, but NOBODY thought both Ena and Meru had been involved. Her friend really had a knack for words when she put herself into it. Tahna: Response Ico: WHAT?!?!?! NO NO, THAT'S A HELLUVA CRAZY! That's not knowing the crew and the ship, that is... character-building chaos or something like that. Tahna: Response Cadet Ico Ena 4th Year Cadet USS Gorkon NCC-82293 E239702A10
  19. I rarely post my own sims here, but we got a number of supportive messages about the JP, so here it is for your consideration. -------------------------- ((Shopping District, Promenade, Iana Station)) (( OOC: Sometime after the camping trip)) It was weird to be “officially” dating Cory in a non-cheating type of way. She had felt feelings for him ever since the affair years ago. “Affair.” No, that wasn’t quite the right word for what happened between them. Yes, Cory was married to Petra at the time; yes, Cory started flirting with Ayiana behind Petra’s back (much to the confused emotions of Ayiana herself, as Petra had been a close friend). But they never actually “did anything.” Not even kissing. Their first truly romantic excursion was also their last at that fateful dance. Yet somehow, the universe and their hearts had conspired to bring them together. It started in the Skarbekverse, where they were already together; that led Ayiana to consider her deeper, subconscious emotions concerning Cory, and that her mind was trying to tell her something. It spiraled until finally the other day in her quarters, when the two exchanged those three words. Cory was walking with Ayiana in the shopping district on Iana Station. While he said nothing, Cory was looking for a gift for Ayiana. He didn't know what he was looking for, but knew it when he saw it. It still felt strange to be dating Ayiana. They had been friends for a very long time. Looking around, Cory saw couples holding hands. He didn't do that to her. To him, she didn't seem like a public display of affection type-of-lady. He decided he would let her make the first move. Stoyer: There is a great restaurant up the way that is pretty good. You want to stop later? Sevo: Sounds good to me. Shopping always makes me hungry. Cory saw a music store that had music programs that looked like old style records. Cory bought a player a while ago while having lunch with Jona and Tahna. He was tempted to go in and see if he could go find some older music to add to his collection. Cory stopped and looked into the window. Then shook his head and continued on with Ayiana at his side. Maybe before shore leave ended, he would come back and look through their collection. Ayiana had completely forgotten about Cory’s interest in those primitive music disks, but she vaguely recalled him having a player for one. She was curious why he didn’t stop in to look around. They weren’t in the Shopping District for nothing, after all! Sevo: Why didn’t you stop in? You like those… things. Stoyer: If you don't mind… Ayiana’s head swiveled around, looking at the various storefronts. Her eyes paused on a particularly flashy looking one selling electronics. One particular holosign caught her interest: they were broadcasting the latest new tech showcases from the Federation Technology Expo. Sevo: Ooo! Be right back! She darted off towards the store, leaving Cory alone in the crowd. Nothing could possibly go wrong with that. Cory smiled as he watched Ayiana tear off toward the tech store. She would be there for a while. He stopped again in front of not really a jewelry store, but he saw something that caught his attention. He thought it was perfect for Ayiana. Stoyer: That’s it. Cory entered the shop and, after purchasing the item, had it placed in a box so he could give it later to Ayiana. Cory left the store and back into the crowd. He looked around to see if Ayiana was on her way back. Not seeing her, Cory opened the box and looked at it in the light. Cory thought to himself, would she like it? Now how to hide it until he could give it to her. Stoyer: ::To one in particular.:: The music store. Cory headed back to the music store. Rummaging through the place, he found several disks that he wanted to buy. The bag holding the disks was big enough to hide the box. Cory placed the box in the bag with the music. Outside the music store, Cory leaned against the storefront while watching the tech store ‌Ayiana was shopping in. Ayiana had spent more time in the technology store than she expected. She was enamored by the radical developments coming out of Starfleet R&D regarding everything from phasers to tricorders to PADDs, especially in the area of holographic interface advancements. It had baffled her why Starfleet had kept the older two-dimensional, sharp-angled touch screens of the mid-century, while civilian areas had widely adopted holograms; Freecloud being a prime example. Well, it seemed Starfleet was finally bringing themselves to the 25th century (close enough) with holographic interfaces and displays rolling out. In the end, Ayiana came out of the store with a HoloStrip. It was basically a PADD, but completely holographic, being projected from a handheld rod-like device that could be held in the hand or placed on a table. She also came away with replicator pattern licenses for aftermarket parts she hoped to, at some point, put into her tricorder and other devices. It took her a few minutes to find Cory in the plaza. Cory spotted the red hair of Ayiana coming through the crowd. Cory flashed one of his roguish grins. Stoyer: Hey you. Sevo: Hey. Sorry I took so long; I got carried away in there. Cory smiled. He knew how she was about technology. It was part of her charm. Stoyer: Let's head over to the park for a bit. I want to talk to you. Sevo: Um… okay? That was a bit disturbing to her. Was Cory already having second thoughts about their relationship? It had always been in the back of her mind ever since that day in her quarters. Her heart pounded in her chest as Cory led her to the park in question. Cory looked out over the park. There was a small lake with a walking track surrounding it. Cory could see children playing on the shore of the lake. He saw an empty bench and walked over to it, placing the bag on the ground. Looking over at Ayiana, her blue eyes that he fell into every time. He reached over and took Ayiana's cool hand in his. Stoyer: I wanted to tell you I haven’t been this happy in a long time. I know that sounds like a line, but it’s true. Sevo: I… :: she exhaled a big breath she didn’t know she was holding. :: …I am too. It feels right. Stoyer: We’ve been friends for a very long time. You’ve been there for me, even when everything happened. I can't imagine my life without you in it. Ayiana remained quiet, simply waiting for what Cory was going to say. Stoyer: I’ve never really apologized for leaving you on that dance floor. That was wrong on many levels. I am sorry. Sevo: Yes… well… *ahem* :: she ran her fingers through her hair nervously. :: It was a kind of joint effort. :: She paused. :: Cory, what is this all about? Cory looked back out at the lake and the people walking around it. Stoyer: I’ve asked you over here to give you something. I saw it and thought of you. Cory reached into the bag and brought out the box. Smiling, he handed the black box to Ayiana and waited for her to open it. Cory watched her face. He knew she was going to like it, or at least hoped she would. Well, this was awkward. Ayiana had never been much for gifts. Cory was angling for something, she thought, and he hoped to buy Ayiana’s appeal for it. The box was not too dissimilar to those given by Quinn at awards ceremonies, but it was bigger than a ribbon or pip box. Besides, Cory couldn’t hand those out. She recognized the name on the box as an upscale jewelry store they recently passed on the promenade. Oh, Cory, that sneaky bugger. He used her distraction with the tech store to double-back and get it. What could it be? Earrings? Bracelet? Necklace? She had more than enough for any formal event she’d ever have to attend. Mountains of jewelry, so much that some people had dedicated furniture and storage for them - like her mother - baffled Ayiana. Why have so many of them when you’ll probably only ever use a fraction of them, and even then, not that often except for your favorite few? Well, if Cory thought she could be bought with a piece of shiny metal, he had another thing--! Ayiana let out an audible gasp as she saw the object laying on the velvet cushion inside. It was an armlet made of three copper wrought and banded wires making the arm ring itself. The three wires flared out of the banding in the front, one set going up, the other going down. In both sets, the outer two wires flared, curved, and twisted around each other, ending in loose coils. The middle wires ended in a gap in between the two, delicately cradling a sparkling ruby in each. The whole arrangement looked similar to leaves. (( OOC: Inspired image here, edited with rubies: https://drive.google.com/file/d/11uydJCCUIAPjXWi-JUi5lrRXLm60b9Hs/view?usp=sharing )) Seeing the armlet, Ayiana panicked; she felt her heart racing in her chest and her cheeks hot with flush. Even her hands were getting warm. No way. There was NO WAY Cory would do this to her so fast. Without touching the armlet, Ayiana closed the box with a snap and thrust it back in Cory’s arms. Sevo: Cory… I… I can’t accept this. :: She said as she looked away.:: Cory’s mind went into shock. He expected any reaction other than this one. He looked wide eyed at her; his mouth went dry. Stoyer: Ayiana…I… Sevo: It… it’s… Cory looked at the box in his hand. Once again, the fears he thought had gone started filling his heart again. Then he looked up into her blue eyes. Stoyer: Ayiana, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. Ayiana paused, realizing what was happening. Cory knew very little about Trill customs, and he must have not understood the armlet’s significance. He simply bought her something nice for her. It was just a gift to her, nothing more than that. She let out a deep breath and gestured Cory to a nearby stone bench. Ayiana sat down nervously, ramrod straight, and waited for Cory to sit down next to her. Cory followed her to a stone bench, sitting down next to her. His insides were turning to mush. Ayiana’s rigid posture wasn’t reassuring him ‌he didn’t make a huge mistake. Sevo: You… uh… don’t know much about Trill customs, right? That wasn't the question he was expecting. As he thought about it, no, he didn’t know much about Trill customs. Other than the whole symbiont and previous hosts thing. Stoyer: No, I didn't I guess. I mean I know about your symbiont and prior hosts. But other than that, no. Ayiana smirked at the irony of that fact. It was not too long ago, only a few decades, that the Joined nature of Trills wasn’t known. Not that they were trying to hide the symbionts; Trill just didn’t consider it out of the ordinary, like how Vulcans had nictitating membranes, Humans had an appendix, or Klingons having a QiVon. Now, the Joined nature of many Trill was the most well-known aspect of Trill biology and society, with Trills having mixed feelings about that. In lieu of an answer, Ayiana simply nodded. Stoyer: Let me guess, I made a serious sin of not knowing something vital. Sevo: Sort of. Um… :: She passed her hand through her hair again.:: …in some Trill cultures, gifting someone an armlet as exquisite as this is… is a marriage proposal. Cory’s mouth dropped open. His mind was blank as she spoke about a marriage proposal. Stoyer: What?! Sevo: It’s similar to your Human custom of presenting an engagement ring, except instead of two separate rings, for each occasion - one for engagement and one for marriage - it also acts as a marriage ring, to put it in your context. It’s generally worn on the left arm. :: She tapped her left bicep. :: Ayiana only knew about Human wedding and engagement rings from witnessing Cory’s and Petra’s marriage several years ago. Stoyer: I…I didn't know. Sevo: The person proposing has two matching armlets, one for them, and one for their prospective spouse. They are usually displayed together when proposing. So if this — ::She tapped the box in Cory’s lap. :: — was a real Trill proposal, in my local culture at least, you’d have two matching armlets in that box; one for me to wear, and one for you. Cory looked down at the box in his lap. This had never occurred to him. He saw something that was pretty and it reminded him of Ayiana. Cory looked at Ayiana. Sevo: The armlets also have a blank area on them, usually around the arm ring itself, but designs vary widely, and some people get custom designs made. They’re worn to show the person is engaged to someone. When or if the individuals marry, they have the blank area engraved with their name, their partners’ names, and the date of marriage. Stoyer: Ayiana, I never thought of you as a Trill. I see you as a brilliant, tough scientist. Ayiana smiled. “Uniform first,” was the Starfleet ethos, right? Sevo: Well, you are right, there. And I’m pretty sure you didn’t *mean* to… uh… get that response from me. Cory shook his head no. Stoyer: No, I didn’t. I guess there is a lot to learn about each other. Sevo: You have no idea. I’ve been married twice and never learned everything about my spouses in our lifetimes. Cory looked at her for a moment before it hit him. Previous hosts. Stoyer: Look, I am sorry for surprising you like this. Cory looked at the box. Looking back at Ayiana, he tapped the box and made a decision. Stoyer: Ok, how about this? I can return this…until the time is right. Sevo: I don’t know. It was very thoughtful of what you did. Stoyer: You pick out something you would like from there or the tech store? Ayiana thought about the offer, but after a moment, she shook her head. Sevo: No. I know you meant well and didn’t mean what I initially thought you were offering. Tell you what, I’ll accept this, — :: She tapped the box :: — graciously, I might add, and wear it for what it is: a thoughtful gift of appreciation. ::She smiled at Cory.:: Cory returned the smile. His heart started beating again. Stoyer: Great. Sevo: Then in the future, if - *IF* - ::she raised her index finger and tapped the air to emphasize the word:: - we take this relationship to the next step in the future, I’ll have a blank band added to it as part of my cultural observance, and it will be a proper engagement armlet. You could get a ring instead of a matching armlet, if that’s what you want. But we’re a long way from anything like that! Cory heard the “if”, but didn’t react. Stoyer: Yes, I agree. We are a long way from that. The black band is a nice touch. I, on the other hand, will start reading about Trill culture. Ayiana didn’t know what “black band” Cory was referring to, but she didn’t comment on it. Cory opened the box and held it out to Ayiana. Sevo: Hah, that’s a nice gesture, but not necessary. I find it more fun to find things out spontaneously. With Cory holding the box open, displaying the armlet to Ayiana, she delicately picked it up off its velvet cushion. She carefully twisted it around in her fingers, examining it from every angle, her eyes falling a little longer on the rubies socketed in it than the rest of it. It was exquisitely crafted, and she did mean crafted, not replicated. She could make out slight imperfections in the banding around the wires, suggesting they were hand wrought. There was no way to tell if the rubies were hand-carved, but if the same ethos went into them as the armlet, there was little doubt they were. Sevo: Cory, this is *handmade*, not replicated. It must have cost a fortune! Cory smiled. It did, but other than his music and books, it was just sitting there. Stoyer: Ayiana, I could say something like “you are worth it.” I saw it and thought of you. There went her cheeks again, flushing with a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. Sevo: Well… then… uh… :: she gazed at the armlet in her hand for a moment :: …I’ll wear it happily as the gift it is, and we’ll see what happens from here. Sounds good? Stoyer: Sounds good. All was well with the world, according to Cory. With Cory’s acceptance of the offer, Ayiana rolled up her left arm sleeve and slid the armlet up to her bicep. The wired form of it helped it grasp securely to her arm, with no squeezing or pinching occurring; in other words, it fit her perfectly. She didn’t believe in destiny, but if she did, this certainly lent proof to it. Cory had no idea of her arm size. He just found a bauble in a store, thought it looked good, and bought it as-is. She twisted and bent her arm around, observing how it looked on her arm, and trying to catch the station’s lights in the rubies. At just the right angle, they shined and reflected brilliantly back in her eye. Sevo: I’m going to have to wear more sleeveless shirts in order to show this off. :: Her eyes lit up. :: That means more shopping!! Cory watched Ayiana roll her sleeve up and slide the armlet up a toned bicep. He breathed a sigh of relief as it fit perfectly. He watched as she twisted the armlet around, smiling as it caught the light from the station. Cory stood, grabbing his bag as he got up. Looking at Ayiana, he offered his hand to her. Stoyer: I am famished. Shall we go get some lunch? Ayiana wasn’t normally keen on the affectations Cory often reverted to; Quinn once called him a “gentleman knight.” But in this instance, she couldn’t help but feel just a little spoiled. Clasping Cory’s hand, he gently pulled her up with the help of her own legs and his muscular arm that she never forgot about. Those well-toned, chiseled muscles. She left her sleeve rolled up; Ayiana had no intention of hiding the bauble right now. Shame it would be hidden by her uniform on-duty. Still close, Ayiana looked into Cory’s eyes. Sevo: Cory, thank you. It’s beautiful. Stoyer: You are welcome. She clasped her arms around Cory’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss, locking lips for several seconds. Was that strawberry chapstick Cory was wearing? She wondered what her own lipstick must taste like to him. Such thoughts never occurred to her before. Cory was surprised at the sudden embrace and kiss. He pulled her tight against him. Sevo: Now we can go. Cory smiled. Stoyer: Now we can go. Sevo: How about some place with a nice steak and wine? She definitely needed alcohol after all that. As they walked back towards the procession way, she reached out and clasped Cory’s hand in her’s. Cory felt her hand grab his. He looked at her and smiled. Fin (for now) ---------------------------- Lt. Commander Ayiana Sevo Mission Specialist U.S.S. Gorkon Image Collective Wiki Ops V239109AS0 ---------------------------- & ---------------------------- Lieutenant Cory Stoyer Helm/Comms/Ops Officer USS Gorkon C239111CS0 ----------------------------
  20. @Bryce Tagren-Quinn is always a consistently great writer, with a thoughtful and calm character. This little conflict, with his doctor's voice and personality shining through and seamlessly interweaving with the tone of the scene, is a delight to read, and I hope to come across other such delightful sims again soon. Thanks for this scene, Kara! ((Main Sickbay, Deck 7, USS Gorkon)) After his conversation with Doctor Namura, Bryce was feeling like a weight had lifted off his shoulders. He hadn’t realized how much he had been hanging onto things, having lived in rumination land a tad too long, but was feeling much better knowing that they had a plan in place to get Tzim-Shah the best possible outcome the medical team could offer. Tagren-Quinn: As for the prosthetic, I was able to get the first steps in motion but we’ll need to reconnect once a few things line up. I will be connecting with Lieutenant Lephi shortly. I know you have a full, booked day ahead of you so I don’t want to keep you. Let’s plan to reconnect tomorrow regarding next steps. He was firm in that answer, his eyes locked onto the Tellarite’s to show that he wasn’t going to budge on the matter. He wasn’t under any illusion that the man wouldn’t just contact her himself. If that was the case, then he would have been forced to take it into an expedited direction. Tzim-Shah: Hang on there boy, you don't want to tell me something, I smell it. What's the matter, has the damn screw-tightener get cold feet or what?! Bryce stood, unfazed by the assertiveness of the other man. Tagren-Quinn: Not at all, Ensign. It’s a process and we have to… The Tellarite clipped right through his sentence, his impatience shining through as brightly as Sol herself. Tzim-Shah: Look, I don't buy it, there's a catch and you don't want to let it out. Well fine, keep your secrets, but this is why we all think you're all a bunch of wussy butchers. We? Who was we? Dumbfounded, the doctor watched as the security officer moved off the bio-bed in one adrenaline-driven motion, his face at his a mere nanosecond later. Fangs were dangerously close in a move meant for intimidation but the El-Aurian hybrid didn’t budge or blink. In fact, he exaggerated the few inches he had on the other man, calling upon the primordial instincts and behaviors of his ancient ancestors. He had been stabbed and shot in the ED before, and had the scars to prove it. Punched in the gut and the face. Been pinned against the wall by a Nausicaan, too. He had been assaulted, been spit on. Pissed on. Did the other man not know what doctors endured for the sake of their patients? Tagren-Quinn: There’s no catch, Ensign, I assure you. There’s no great conspiracy. But we have to do things by the book. Medical is medical. Things already went rogue once before. His words hung in the air, a little bit more bitter than he intended them to be. He didn’t add the piece about, “…and see where we are now.” He didn’t want to cause a scene. That is what he was trying to avoid. The Tellarite just mumbled as he struggled to pull his tunic over his head. Tzim-Shah: Whatever, buddy, I'll figure it out even if I have to contact that crazy woman myself. Tagren-Quinn: You won’t because I already have a call in. It is a call that we needed to make. It is a step that we, on the medical team, have to take. Tzim-Shah: Response Tagren-Quinn: …and, you are a Starfleet officer, Ensign. And you will listen to your doctor. You will not meddle with this work. I will be in touch once the Lieutenant and I are able to discuss this thoroughly. It is not a conversation that we can have on the fly, right here and now. Do you understand? It is a prosthetic. It is an involved process. If we want to do this right, if you want the possible outcome, you will listen to me this time. He stood firm, eyes locked on the Tellarite’s in a bid to impress the importance of this. It wasn’t often that the doctor went this way, but sometimes the individual and the situation called for it. Tzim-Shah: Response Tagren-Quinn: I’m here to help you. We will see you tomorrow for the surgery and we’ll discuss the next steps then. Do you understand? Tzim-Shah: Response
  21. I love sims with wordbuilding, with delicate and wonderful descriptions and smooth, seamless scene pacing and @Tahna Meru gives us a wonderful example here, polishing his prose and taking us into an alien world through her character's eyes without leaving out the ins and outs of what's going on in Meru's head while adding so much to keep the scene going in a wonderful example of collaborative writing. Great work Eris! ((Festival Grounds, Yarista, Palanon)) The two Bajoran women sat on the grass in the dark park, untouched by the lights of the city. It was like a bit of wilderness in the midst of the technologically advanced city. Every single pebble, every solitary blade of grass, was arranged in a perfect mimicry of the untouched natural environment—or maybe it wasn’t a mimicry at all, and this park had never been tamed by the Tyrellians. It was so serene, not even the tiny hunting griffins could disturb the peace as they chased down the violet fireflies. Meru laughed as she teased Ena about her crush, before leaning back on her elbows, her mind a quadrant away as she seriously pondered her friend's question. What promise would she make if she were Ena? What promise would Meru have made on her cadet cruise? Work hard, get a good Ensign placement, make friends? But those were all things Ena was proving successful at already. Tahna: I– ::She started to answer then stopped herself, a thoughtful frown settling on her face.:: I’m not sure, Ena. I feel like you’re lightyears ahead of where I was on my cadet cruise. I mean, you’re on a flagship, and that placement has very little to do with any recommendation I gave you. Ico: :Quick and :incoherently::Well, but you helped or I was lucky or... more just...unlucky with all the Darime thing, and Ryan spoke for me, too, and... well if I just... Tahna: I think if I were you, I would promise to be more sure of myself. Don’t second-guess your qualifications, your knowledge, your contributions. You deserve to be here just as much as anyone else. Ico: I don’t know if-… ::She paused and bit her lip. :: Nearby, a Tyrellian couple was also preparing for the festival. They spread a blanket out on the wild grass, marking out a place for themselves in the park as it began to get crowded. Bajorans and Tyrellians alike carried lanterns, some homemade, some bought from the vendors. They set up picnic blankets and folding chairs and laid back on the grass to watch the fireflies and griffins dance overhead, the light from the little insects painting the evening sky in pinks and purples. But Ena wasn’t looking at this marvelous scene so much as through it, her eyes a thousand suns away even as she watched the intricate predator-prey aerial dance of the native wildlife. Ico: I'll do it, I promise. Meru withdrew a calligraphy brush and a small pot of ink from her bag. She certainly wasn’t artistically talented, but she had a steady enough hand to draw a prayer sigil on her lantern. The question remained, what blessing would she ask for herself? It was strange to be in this position, no respected Bajoran elder to offer a blessing on her behalf, to guide her in what to say. She wasn’t entirely alone, though; she had a respected friend whose advice she could ask. Tahna: In Kashnar, usually the matriarchs inscribe blessings for their children. I’ve never had to come up with my own before. ::She turned to her friend, twirling the brush in her fingers.:: What blessing would you ask for me? Ico: What? Ru I-I am not a matriarch, how would I know what to write? Tahna: You’re a respected friend, your opinion is worth just as much as my mother’s right now. More, actually, considering just how tense Meru’s relationship with her mother had become. Ico: ::blushing once more:: Hush you! Meru smiled. Even with the sadness of remembering home, she was glad to be celebrating a Bajoran holiday on such a large scale again—actually, this celebration seemed much larger than the ones in her hometown. There’d been smaller celebrations at the Academy, of course, hosted by a local vedek, but he was from the forests of Hedrikspool, and his celebrations were entirely different, with candles in place of lanterns. Now, in her new home, it felt…right to make her own traditions again. Finally, Ena took Meru’s lantern. Ico: If I were a matriarch, which I'm not, and I had to give you a blessing.... Ena took a fine brush from her own set began carefully tracing the complex Bajoran glyphs on Meru’s lantern while the older girl watched. Ico:...If I should give you a blessing I would say may the land always make a path before your steps, may the wind always blow at your back, may the sun always shine warm on your face, and may the Light of the Prophets always shine on you, bringing the same warm light that you give to those around you. Ena dotted the final glyph and returned the lantern, the dark ink drying quickly in the gentle breeze. Meru admired the lantern, and smiled at her friend. Tahna: You’re too kind. Ico: Well, I think you deserve it, after all, you're great Meru! I wouldn't be here without you. Tahna: Hey, didn’t I just tell you to be more sure of yourself? Besides, there’s plenty I’m not great at. Ico: Tell me that at the end of the year, Lieutenant Tahna, when you'll be giving me orders like... Hey, look, it has begun! A gong sounded, drawing the crowd’s attention to a small group of vermilion-robed Vedeks. They processed from the near end of the park to an altar, carrying lanterns and candles, and the park fell into a reverent silence as they watched. Meru caught her friend’s eyes with a quick smile, before turning her attention back to the procession. When they reached the altar, the Vedeks circled it. Each stepped forward to light one of the candles on the altar. Then, as one, they began reciting a prayer in Bajoran, their voices echoing through the park. They spoke of the Occupation, of the loneliness of leaving one’s home, of the darkness individuals often battled; and then of the light of every individual’s pagh, the power of every individual being to make the world a little bit lighter. Ico: Response With one final blessing, the Vedeks dispersed throughout the crowd, lighting the lanterns of each onlooker they passed, though everyone was waiting to release their lanterns and prayers until the end. Meru turned to her friend with a small smile now as they waited in turn, the crowd now filling the silence with a hushed murmur. Tahna: May you bring light wherever you go, Ena. A traditional greeting for others during ital’mara¹ (back in Kashnar, at least). The expected response back home would be, “and may you find light wherever you roam,” but it was likely another example of how their traditions differed. The same festival could look so different on the other side of the continent (now, even on the other side of the cosmos), and that was part of its beauty. Ico: Response Tahna: What else did you write on your scroll? Unless it’s too personal. Ico: Response ¹ Bajoran: Festival of Lights
  22. Posting the whole sim here instead of posting half of it in the quotes thread. Fantastic writing of a spiraling scientist, funny and elegantly written as always! Cheers @Bryce Tagren-Quinn! ----- ((Cordina Valley, Mindirra Mountain Range, Palanon)) The environment was just what everyone needed after such a trying mission. Mountains, a pristine valley and a lake to soothe battle wounds. Many warriors would immerse themselves in nature as a means to heal. In fact, there was sufficient medical evidence that showed that nature immersion decreased blood pressure, stress, and so on. Anyway… Out of the group, the two that Bryce knew best were Lieutenants Sirin and Tahna, though he didn’t exactly know them. He had hoped that this trip would not only help to help them all unwind, including himself, but also forge friendships that would help build community. That community would allow them to become resilient in the face of any future events. And, from what he had heard from the group regarding the Gorkon herself… yeah. Tahna though… they were in somewhat close proximity, setting dishes atop a tarp near the campfire. He wracked his brain on what to call her. Lieutenant? Was that too formal in this setting? They weren’t exactly friends quite yet (maybe on the cusp?), so he felt a little awkward in addressing her by her Bajoran given name. They did however face the possibility of death together on deck 8. Tahna: Tahna, or Meru, either is fine. ::Smiling.:: Anyone who survives ghosts and explosions with me can use my given name. He smiled and rotated around slightly at the sound of the Adonis-looking Trill man’s voice. The man with the arms that seemed bigger than his own thighs. Tan: ::Nodding in agreement:: Yeah. Just Serren is fine for everyone. Especially now! We're here to relax! Indeed they were. The jovial man was wise. Tagren-Quinn: Have you read or done any studies on the local wildlife and plant life here? I just saw a group of what looked like birds, at least by Earth standards, and it’s driving me bonkers because I don’t recall seeing anything about it in my pre-trip reading. I wonder if they were introduced? Honestly, he was going to ask Tahna how she was getting along since the mission but he didn’t want to come across too personal or prying. The fact that she was here and smiling was enough to let him know that she was likely getting along just fine. Still, the last mission had been quite the tribulation for the lot of them. And, Serren’s comment about relaxing was indeed true. They all needed a reprieve. Sirin: Exobiology was part of my double major, but I haven’t really read much about wildlife here. I’m interested in what types of fish we will find. ::turns to Stoyer:: Would you care to join me on my hunt for dinner? Green eyes focused on the other El-Aurian hybrid doctor and Bryce couldn’t help but pause a moment, smiling internally that there was some peace emitting from her. It was a vague impression but a good and promising one. Fishing would prove to be such a great activity. Though, a part of him reverted back to days of old. Were the fish protected? Were there any laws about catching and releasing? He reasoned that Starfleet would not have likely permitted them if that was the case, and would have educated them pre-trip of any warnings. This location hosted a lot of other visitors though. His thoughts then quickly pivoted, twisting into environmental clean-up. With increased traffic came increased issues in that realm. What about potential contaminants in the water that would lead to issues of bioaccumulation, traveling through trophic levels and… biomagnification? Was it safe to eat the fish? Were there versions of algal blooms, with toxins that may… Ugh. Maybe he would just test the fish discreetly with a tricorder before they dined on them. He needed to quiet his mind or else it would go warp speed into journal article land. Abstracts only, please. Stoyer: Sure, I will go with you to help caught some dinner. Let’s gather the gear. Sirin: :: to Tagren-Quinn:: I’ve read that there are large fish similar to Terran snakeheads. Apparently they mimic walking on land and can survive for two days out of water. A most interesting specimen, if one could find it amongst the shore’s debris. That sort of reminded him of some amphibious creatures he encountered on an outpost. Tagren-Quinn: Oh that does sound interesting. Please, take some snaps if you come across anything. I would be most interested in reviewing your findings. Tahna: I was more focused on the plants than the Aves, honestly. Did you know there’s a species of cyan fungus in the mountains that bloom once every sixty years? Bryce twisted around and raised his eyebrows at Tahna who handed him a refreshing cup of tea. He just smiled and silently nodded in thanks. Tagren-Quinn: That… oh wow, I would like to see that too! Bloom every sixty years?! The longevity alone… Stoyer: After you. Tan: Good luck! Hope they're biting! And, with that, the red-haired Sirin and the man in flannel, Stoyer, were off with their fishing gear. Bryce watched after them for a moment before turning towards Serren, who was cooking up a storm. He was impressed with how at ease he was with it especially given the primitive setting. The doctor’s mind continued to trail off though, enchanted by the prospects, of the treasure trove this place held. All the biotic and abiotic relationships, the mesic forest, and the untold geological history that helped to influence it all. He thought about the notebook in his pack and got sucked in it all before a soft voice brought him back to the present. Tahna: I would love to see it bloom, I guess we’ll just have to come back in forty years. It took him a moment before he realized that the Bajoran woman was sitting on the ground near the campfire with her arms wrapped around her legs. The scene was enough to pull him out of his trance and concern etched across his youthful features. In forty years he’d look about the same, most likely. But, this wasn’t about that. There was something lingering in the undercurrents of the woman’s words and he wondered… Tan: ::Whistling appreciatively,:: Forty years. Wow. It really takes that long? Tagren-Quinn: Yeah… sometimes longer for some species. Maybe it wasn’t the best thing to say and he regretted it as soon as it tumbled from his mouth. He really had a way with words sometimes. He glanced between the two. She then took a drink and twirled a blade of grass between her fingers before speaking once again. Tahna: How are you two doing? After…everything. There was a bit of silence which was broken by the other man’s voice. Tan: I uh... I miss Jona. ::He stirred the cooking lunchmeal slowly, then the rice too, making sure it didn't stick to the edges.:: "Palling around on Palanon" was our thing. We spent almost a whole shore leave seeing the sights and we barely got to see a quarter of everything... a quarter of a quarter. He would have loved to be here. Bryce nodded, sliding his hands into his pockets and focusing his attention to the ground, to a rock. He had met Jona, albeit briefly, and was saddened to hear of his departure as well. Tagren-Quinn: Yeah, I didn’t have a chance to get the Commander too well but, from my brief interaction with him, I found him to be a top-notch officer. He led our team on deck 8 with much composure and determination. As for himself, how he was doing? Work got him through. It always did. That something to focus on always got him through. Tagren-Quinn: What about you, Tahna? How… how are you? He sat down a few feet from her, ran a hand through his hair and offered a warm smile. Tahna: Response Tan: Heard your second part of the mission was a real, uh... doozy. ::Stirring quietly.:: By all accounts you both did great. Sure to wrack up an impressive haul at the next awards ceremony. That was really kind of him to say and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it. Tagren-Quinn: I… just doing my part. Always wish I could do more. Like almost leaving some people behind, one of which was in the throes of labor. If he was thrust back into the situation, would he have made the same call, the same recommendations? The answer - a resounding yes - wasn’t always going to be a popular one. Tahna: Response It was when Serren went to taste the concoction he was cooking did Bryce catch a whiff of familiar spices. It caught him off guard – but honestly, it shouldn’t have. Tan: Want to talk about it? No pressure if you'd rather just sit by the fire and talk about something else. By all accounts, the food smelled amazingly good. And… Too much. The logical part of his brain reasoned, though the primitive part kicked up a flight response. Tagren-Quinn: I’m… I think I might, uh, take a moment. He looked to his company apologetically and rose to his feet, brushing off the dirt and grass from his pant legs. Tahna/Tan: Response Tagren-Quinn: Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry. I think… I think I’m going to write down some observational notes before I forget them. I’ll be right back for lunch though. It... smells delicious. Tahna/Tan: Response With a weak smile and a faint wave, he was off trudging to his tent with his hair lifting some by the light breeze. His hands moved around hastily in his belongings until the notebook and pen emerged. When he had those in hand, he made a beeline to the trailhead to gain some distance. He would have to apologize to them again later, perhaps even offer an explanation. The spices were a reminder of a different time and, on any other day or moment, perhaps he would have been stronger about it. Focus. Plants. Medicine. There was a strange wooden sign attached to a wooden post at the trail’s entrance. Along its surface was scripting burned in that he didn’t understand but there was a touchscreen under it for a hiker to tap in their language preferences. Spiffy. And, whoa, a rather large shadow casting down from above. Circling, almost menacingly. Shielding his eyes, Bryce glanced up only to witness a deluge of… Tagren-Quinn: Shhhhiiii--- …expelled contents from a species of bird, falling from the sky. The young doctor stepped back with great speed and agility, narrowly missing the massive explosion and nearly laughing in shock and at the absurdity. It felt like a metaphor about the current state of things. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose and just shook his head. -- Ensign Bryce Tagren-Quinn, M.D. Medical Officer USS Gorkon (NCC-82293) T238909AT0
  23. Oh god. This sim was so well written. How dare you two make me feel things with my own brain! It seems like every shore leave there's a JP from these two and so far they've been full of joy and happiness and this sim took a turn for the shockingly emotional. I loved it, and you two are so talented. ----- (( Elizabeth’s Quarters, Deck 14, USS Chin’toka )) {{Time Index: Five Days After Leaving PTE-2891, Enroute to Shemsh}} ((OOC: I know these don't count towards my numbers, but this JP will be heavily referenced in my next sim with Cheesecake, so I'm sending for context)) Elizabeth sat curled up on the couch with a cup of Jesteral Tea clasped in her hands. She had been trying to read her book but her mind had been elsewhere, making the task difficult. While there were still parts of her life missing, none if it seemed as pressing as the issue she was having at the moment. Since Solat has stimulated her memory recall, pulling up the image of the woman she was to marry, Elizabeth had been feeling both guilty and conflicted about things. She could feel that she loved Lephi very much; she still had these sudden feelings for Kas that came along while her memory was gone. They were nothing compared to what she felt for Lephi, but they were still there. Then there is the whole telling Lephi what happened and that made her gut churn even more. She sighed and took a sip of her tea as she wished the kiss had never happened. (( Lephi's Quarters, USS Gorkon )) The nights were always the hardest, and then the days came and they were harder still. Lephi sighed and rolled over in bed. She'd been working so much she hadn't even had time to stop and think. Though she was settling into life on the Gorkon, it still tore at her heart to have her other half so far away from her. With one more flop, the engineer crawled back out of bed. Her plans for an early night were thwarted by a restless brain. She made her way over to the replicator and retrieved some Jestral tea. It was far from her favourite, but drinking it helped her to feel closer to Elizabeth in these trying times. Lephi plopped herself down at her desk and picked up a nearby PADD, hoping to dull her mind with the intricacies of starship repair. (( Elizabeth’s Quarters, Deck 14, USS Chin’toka )) Elizabeth sighed and pushed up from the couch wondering if a shower would help her relax enough to fall asleep. If it came down to it, maybe a sedative would do the trick. As she made her way through the bedroom, her eyes caught sight of Lephi's picture on her nightstand and sighed. What was she doing? She already talked with Kas and now it was Lephi's turn. It was time to make the call. She turned around and walked back into the living area. Her gut churning with every step. It wasn't going to be an easy call, but she wanted it to come from her and not someone else. The thought of the woman walking away stung like hell. She sat down at her desk and collected herself for a moment before standing back up, walking over to the replicator. Snow: A cup of Jesteral Tea, please. As the mug appeared before her, she took a sip as she made her way back over to the desk. Snow: Computer, open a transmission with Lieutenant Lephi, USS Gorkon. She took a seat as the computer processed the request. As it did Elizabeth sat the mug of tea down regretting the choice to have something in her stomach at this moment. (( Lephi's Quarters, USS Gorkon )) Computer: Incoming transmission from Lieutenant Elizabeth Snow, USS Chin’toka. Lephi’s heart soared. She couldn't remember the last time that she had spoken to Elizabeth, much less seen her face. Her sour attitude immediately began to change, and a toothy smile formed on her face as she spoke. Lephi: Put it through, put it through! Elizabeth smiled as Lephi appeared on the screen. Her heart soared seeing the woman and for a moment she had forgotten why she called. Snow: Hello, beautiful ::smiling:: It was a great feeling, looking back at the beautiful doctor on the screen. There were no words that did her smile justice. For a brief second, Lephi forgot to speak. Moments later, she gathered her thoughts and tried again. Lephi: Hello, Imzadi! You've somehow gotten more beautiful since I last saw you! Elizabeth smiled and then her heart twinged. The reason she called flashed across her mind as she stared at the beauty on the screen unaware of the news that was still to come. She didn’t want to tell Lephi, to break her heart, but she couldn’t leave this between them. It wasn’t right and Lephi deserved to know. Elizabeth took a deep breath and then looked at the woman on the screen again with tear filled eyes. Snow: Imzadi, I want you to know that I love you very much and what I’m about to say pains me very deeply to have to tell you. I’m so sorry to have to even say this, that it even happened, but.. ::brief pause:: On the recent mission, the other members of the away team and myself lost our memories. During this scary and confusing time the person I was shared a kiss and developed feelings for someone. ::pause:: I’m so sorry, Lephi. She stopped talking to give the woman time to process what had been said, the guilt even stronger than before. At first Lephi was concerned that her compliment had been the reason for Elizabeth’s tears, but as the doctor began opening up, Lephi was filled with confusion and dread. Shared a kiss? Lost her memories? A great sadness came over her as she considered the implications. Was she breaking up with her? Tears welled in the engineer's eyes, and she was silent for several long minutes. When she finally spoke again, it was through choked sobs. Lephi: That sounds like a terrible thing to go through, are you doing okay? The question she really wanted to ask was if Elizabeth had called to break off their engagement, but though she was eager to ask; she didn't want an answer. Not yet. Elizabeth’s wellbeing was just as important, and a welcome distraction. Was she okay? No. No she wasn’t. She felt like she failed Lephi. She had accepted her heart with a promise not to break it and she went and did just that. Snow: No. You trusted me with your heart and I failed to protect it. The tears that had pooled in Lephi’s eyes broke free and trickled down her face. Elizabeth was always more concerned with everyone else around her than she was about herself. It was a blessing and a curse, and in this case, more of a curse. Lephi: Did you, as Elizabeth, mean to kiss him? You didn't fail anything my love, you went through something traumatic. It hurts, and we'll have to deal with that eventually, but my concern right now is you. Snow: No. If I'd known who I was and that I was engaged, I wouldn’t have. The reassurance brought some small comfort to the Ferengi. The fact that they were still talking, and she wasn't hanging off of this new person in front of her also helped ease her hurting heart. Lephi: Exactly! That's not who you are, Imzadi. Have your memories returned? Snow: The alien entity stimulated our memory paths to recover things quicker, but some things are still missing. It’s only been a few days. Concern etched on Lephi's face as she regarded the doctor carefully, as though suddenly a way to fix all of this would jump out at them. It pained her to think about Elizabeth alone and scared with no memories on an unknown planet. She cursed Starfleet for making her transfer, and she cursed herself for not making a more compelling case for the two of them to retire early on Betazed. Lephi: I'm sure it will all come in time. Are you taking some time off to deal with this all? Was the person you kissed a member of the crew? How has that been? She knew it was a lot of questions to ask Elizabeth at once, but despite her best efforts, concern overtook her and she couldn't stop her mouth from voicing them all. Elizabeth took a moment to process all the questions Lephi threw her way. She took a sip of her tea before responding. Snow: I’ve been on light duty for now trying to get back into the swing of things and yes. We talked about things. They know I’m engaged and want to work on things with you. Lephi breathed a sigh of relief, and it quieted her brain for at least a few moments. Whoever this mystery person was, they knew that Lephi existed. Although it troubled her that Elizabeth had dodged the question identifying the other person, she knew better than to push her fiancée too hard on that at the moment. Lephi: And how did they take that? She thought about the conversation with Kas yesterday. It seemed to go well, but even though he tried to hide it, she still got a feeling that it hadn’t gone as well as what the Commander showed. Snow: Seemingly pretty well. Lephi's mouth curved downwards into a frown, and her nose began to twitch. Her brain was working at warp speed. She wanted nothing more than to talk things out, soothe the pain they were both feeling but it felt very one sided to her. She was trying to stimulate the conversation, and it felt as though Elizabeth was applying a sedative from a hypospray to it, and shutting down conversation. Lephi: Who is it? What do you mean, seemingly pretty well? ::sadly:: You talked to them before you talked to me? The last question sounded more defensive than she had meant it to. She was hurt, and Elizabeth’s mannerisms were doing little to provide comfort to the engineer. Before she transferred, they were two of the closest people, and now apparently they went to relative strangers with issues before each other. Another sob caught in Lephi's throat, her now bloodshot eyes pleaded with Elizabeth. Elizabeth’s heart twinged. Had she gone about this the wrong way. She had never been in this position before. She was just trying to answer the questions she was asked and reassure the woman. She could navigate being a doctor with no memory of being one. She could probably have gone back full duty with no problem and navigated circles around Sickbay with limited memory, but she couldn’t navigate her own relationship correctly. Snow: I’ve only been back a few days. I wasn’t planning on talking to anyone about anything until I figured things out, but they showed up at my door. So we talked. The vague nature of Elizabeth's reply did nothing to nurture Lephi's tormented heart. If anything, it pained her more to see such conflict so plainly on the face of the woman she loved. She wondered what kind of a person would be so heartless as to know someone is in a happy relationship, and still pry at the cracks which had suddenly formed. Certainly it couldn't have been Commander Raga, or Serala. Those two had respect for them, and their relationship. This person clearly did not. She thought hard about it all. Lephi: Elizabeth… ::Averts gaze:: Who was it? Snow: Someone who was in the same position I was and new to the ship, so they had no idea of anything. The doctor’s coyness almost won Lephi over briefly, before the despair she felt resurfaced. It brought her minute joy that it wasn't any of the people she considered to be her friend. She wasn't sure she'd be able to get over that if it had been the case. Lephi: You're really not going to tell me? That's all I get, that it isn't one of our mutual friends? Snow: Yes. It shouldn’t matter who it is. It’s not going to change anything.
  24. Revisiting traumatic sites is a big interest of mine, and it's lovely to see the crew going back and assigning a special place to where missions happened. Great work Sami! This was a fun read! ----- (( Security Office - Deck Eight - USS Gorkon )) She stared out of the window, not seeing the streaking stars that passed outside, as the Gorkon sped to its next location for some much needed repairs. The relief of retrieving the missing persons from the Rift, including the other away team, was short-lived once they beamed over to the Gorkon, where another disaster had occurred. One that was more deadly as it turned out after checking out the crew list. They had fatal casualties, including some of her own department, people who had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. She rolled her shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension she felt as she crossed the short distance to her desk, picking up the PADD she had left there and read the letters again she had composed to the families of those from her department who hadn’t survived the explosion or search and rescue afterwards. Her thoughts automatically went to the family of Ensign Raife, one of the images she had relived during the hallucinations. For a reason unknown to her, she still kept contact with the family. Was it guilt? Samira didn’t know. Maybe she just wanted to give the family some insight into what their daughter’s life would have been like if she had survived the disaster on the upside-down ship. Once the first chaos had subdued after returning to the Gorkon, she had helped with relocating crew members who didn’t like the upgraded accommodations with an open view on space to new quarters on safer decks. Together with engineering, she had done a preliminary examination of the exploded area, making sure the ship itself was secure enough to travel. Of course, she’d only get a full report once the experts had done their own inspection back at Iana Station. The PADD abandoned on her desk she left the office. She needed a drink before she went to her next destination and thus she ended up in her quarters. Ko was catching some sleep in one of the eucalyptus trees, as if nothing had happened. Normally, she’d let the critter sleep and leave him alone, but this time she petted him on his head after pouring herself some whiskey. Which resulted in a grunt from the animal, and she quickly pulled her hand away as he made a motion with his paw and sharp claws. She smirked at the beast and let him be, before she settled in to the couch, taking a sip from the golden liquid now and then. (( One hour later - Cargo Bay - USS Gorkon )) Samira stood in front of the famous cargo bay that tossed people around and learned those trapped inside how they could fly without any wings or other artificial means. The double doors in front of her were shut, like the area gave her an extra warning sign: beware when you step through. She ruffled her short black hair. Maybe she shouldn’t have gone for the double whiskey or had something to eat in between. Her mind was already playing tricks on her and she hadn’t even set foot in the room yet. She took a step forward, almost wishing the doors wouldn’t open, like they had refused to open last time. But there it was, the familiar whoosh as both doors slid open. Carefully, she took a step inside, dropping the bag she’d carried next to her. Here she was, and she wasn’t alone. People doing their job, continuing where they left off, or just performing their daily duty. Slowly, she walked around in the bay, until she received a few odd looks from folk, probably wondering why she was here in the first place. Only then she returned to the dropped bag and walked to the supply crate at the front of the bay, restocking the water bottles they had taken from the container while being trapped inside. For a brief moment, it reminded her of another cargo bay on another ship that didn’t exist. The first time she had met Soup and Headhunter on the Skarbek, as a new recruit of a Maquis cell, where she knew nobody. She smiled faintly. Things looked brighter for Valesha now that the couple had started their own family. She should pay them a visit and congratulate them one of the following days. There was still plenty of time for that later. First, it was time for another drink. --- Lieutenant Commander Samira Neathler Chief Security/Tactical & Second Officer USS Gorkon G239508SN0
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