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  1. Paraphrasing our first officer and since we didn't have a quotes thread, let's start one! From "Minefield, both metaphorical and literal" Allegedly Lia Rouiancet, in fact @Tony, aka Kells You've KILLED me with that, Skipper XD
  2. I really liked this final log entry from @Kammus Corelli. A nice fitting end to his time on the Thor.
  3. This is @Alora DeVeau's sim for Katsim Peri. I was new to the Thor and only served for one mission, so I enjoy reading how others who were on the ship longer are processing leaving the ship behind for the time being. I especially enjoyed this one. ((USS Thor - Katsim’s Quarters)) She was just a ship. A machine. A vessel constructed to be used for the advantage of those who guided her through the paths among the stars. A slab of metal that had been melted and fashioned, hammered and cut with all the modern tools that Starfleet had to offer, sleek lines and powerful drives that propelled her forward and speeds thought impossible only a few hundred years prior. And she had woven her way through the Galaxy, protecting the precious cargo within. And it was there that she became more than a machine. Though she did not breathe, she uttered a constant, steady hum to lull that soothed her passengers. Though she had no heart, her core beat with a firm, constant beat. Though she had no bones, she creaked and groaned at times in protest. In many ways, she was very much alive, a part of the crew, the life and breadth that brought them all together, the spindle that wove the thread of commonality into a strength of familiarity. She had carried them, guarded them, and fought for them. And now? Now those polished hulls and smooth arcs had been torn asunder. The deep ebony of her form had been struck and the lights that glittered all about her, like strings of glistening jewels, had been dimmed. The wings that had once borne them through the heavens had been clipped. Now she was a shadow of her former glory, forced to endure the humiliation of the necessity of being dragged behind another of her kin. Her bowels were no less chaotic, the evidence of her torture manifest everywhere one looked. Nothing was untouched, and the wounds of battle visible no matter where one looked. Peri had requested that she be transported over, the need to see what remained far too great, mainly of her own belongings. There was not much, but what she did have was significant. She materialized not in her room itself, but in the hallway just outside, debris scattered about, wires exposed, some frayed, and she could smell the last remnants of energy upon the air. Remaining clear of the components showing she turned to the door. It had been damaged, one panel somehow half crumpled, but the other seemed as if it had been spared anything at all save for a small mark in its finish. Between the two, there was just enough space for her to insert herself and get stuck. Echo, a constant companion, chirped encouragement, and Peri heaved and pushed. Bracing her feet, she groaned with effort and a moment later, the panel groaned with her, then gave in and slid open. Inside was no better than out, the damage great in its extent. The beds that had lined the walls, one to the right, the other to the left, were nothing more than twisted bits of metal, several of their beams snapped in two, and the jagged edges jutted upward in stark reminder of their brokenness. For a moment, Peri merely stood there, barely past the threshold, surveying what had once been her quarters. Carefully picking her way forward, she paused only a couple of feet inside, then bent down to pick up what had once been a frame, but now was merely a remnant shard. Sighing softly, she tossed it aside, then continued forward, then suddenly stopped again and let out a soft cry. She could see her things, tossed about. Fabric was torn asunder as the trunk in which they had resided had given way to the thrashing it had received. The silk, both metres and threads, had been tossed and throttled, and remnants were scattered everywhere, their fraying ends speaking to their ruin. Reaching down, she found a larger piece in particular from a half finished hanging that she had been making for the upcoming wedding between Elizabeth Snow and her intended, Lephi. It was now ruined, and no amount of craftsmanship could mend it. Shoulders slumped and her hand released what she had worked so hard on, and it fell limp back onto a small pile of debris. And then she saw it, a corner, the darkened edge peeking out from the contorted forms of metal and she pressed forward, pushing things aside, clamoring over others until he could reach the spot where it lay. Pulling a large, bent beam from one of the beds, Peri moved it just enough to reveal what it attempted to hide. Quickly, she tugged and pulled and finally wrestled the box from the confines of the wreckage, and immediately turned it over in her hands. Beaten. Outside, it had taken just as much as everything else. Scratches and dents marred the formally smooth, dark grey, and a slash on one great edge had been cut deeply. Fingers fumbled with the latches, bent and bowed, yet somehow they had clung together. A few moments later, she was able to pry it open, and upon seeing the contents, another cry was released - but that one was of relief, for there within, nestled in the protective cushioning lay the candelabra that had allowed her to count and focus her prayers. Lifting it, she turned it over and over, studying every inch, then breathed a prayer of thanks. It was a small thing, perhaps insignificant to many, and technically replaceable - but Peri had spoken a thousand prayers upon it, had uttered words of her faith, called out for aid in her doubts, and had breathed the depths of her sorrows with it as a guide and focus when communing with the prophets. Of all that she owned, it was her most precious possession. Despite the damage to the case, it was still the best way to protect the item, so Peri returned it to the nest, and closed it as best she could. Rising, she took another look around her, at what was left of her room. No, not her room. She could no longer call it that. That was gone, and she had been given a new one, one that remained intact and unbroken, devoid of the chaos and devastation that surrounded her. She had what she came for, yet she couldn’t help but hesitate and linger, though after a few moments, the dragonet upon her shoulder chirped again, as if to remind her that this had to be left behind. That they had to return. Biting her lower lip, Peri still hesitated, and she gazed about her, as if trying to put everything back where it once was, where it had been before. But it was impossible. No imaginings could refashion all that had been wrecked, and nothing she could do could turn back time to set all as it was. Finally, slender fingers lightly tapped her badge and the connection was made. Her soft voice requested transport for a return. And as she heard the hollow sound and the light filled her vision, she watched it all fade away into brilliant blue, everything overcome with that luminous hue, drowned into oblivion and replaced with the new, the hale, and whole. Stepping down, she cast a small smile toward the transporter chief, but could not help but let her eyes shift to the transporter pad. It stood there, waiting for those who would utilise it, others who had come to do the same as she had done, to go back, to seek, hopefully to find. But what would they find? If they were fortunate, remnants of their belongings, something to hold onto, to return with. But ultimately, they could not return to what once was. All they could do was gather the remains of the shattered. All they could do was move forward. All they could do was let go. Taking a deep breath, Peri clutched the rescued case to her chest and hurried away. Yet, some things couldn’t be let go. Some things could not be so easily forgotten. Some things would remain a constant, and in that she had hope and faith, in that she had trust. Making her way through the hall and to a lift, she gave a command, that for the deck where she was temporarily housed. The computer complied, the hum began, though it was of a different pitch and temperament than what she had grown accustomed to. It carried her off, then stepped and let her out at the desired level, and but a moment later, Peri was in her quarters. Once inside, Echo launched from her shoulder and settled upon the back of the couch where took up a perch and placed the case upon the small table in front of it. Opening it, she examined once more the gentle curves of the candelabra, and gingerly fingered the column. In all the change, in all the tumult, there was so much uncertainty, so much disorder, but there was one thing she knew, one thing that was constant. Whatever happened, whatever was thrown into her path, Peri would always be able to look to the Prophets, for they would always care for her own. They would always care for her. And they would never let go.
  4. I saw this sim from @Ulasso and immediately knew I wanted to highlight it in the appreciations thread. Really stand up job of starting up an interesting NPC. Great job man, and thanks for jumping into the character so deeply! I want to see this becoming a recurring character going forward!
  5. ((Corridor, New Dominion Battleship)) Their boarding mission was off to a rocky start, but nothing unexpected. Wes had anticipated resistance. They were trying to mitigate it some by quick aggressive action in multiple boarding parties. After all, dealing with three small incursions on a ship was harder than dealing with a single large one. To that end a squad of Marines was securing the ship's shuttle bay while another fire team was wreaking havoc elsewhere as a diversion. The Major's team was supposed to have beamed in near the prison cells, but precise placement left much to be desired. They'd arrived half a deck away and now they were threatened to be pinned down by the initial security response. The four Starfleet officers were clinging to what cover they could find in the mostly empty hall. Alcoves for doors, no more than several inches deep, had become a life line as several New Dominion personnel fired poloron weapons from down the corridor at least 50 meters away. To their credit, the small team was giving much more than they took. Phaser beams crossed haphazardly with the purple poloron blasts, and often times were finding their marks. The problem was the responding crew outnumbered the boarding team. Surprise was already lost and if they lost their aggressive offensive momentum they'd be cornered in no time. A thought their security officer obviously shared. Basilla: We need to move, continue towards the brig. We risk getting surrounded if we stay here. Kel: I have to concur, this is not an ideal situation. The woman was spot on in her assessment, and if the situations had been different Wes would have offered words of encouragement. This however wasn't training. They were in a real firefight, and disaster and death was inches away at every given moment. There was no time to plan. No time for unneeded words. Only action. The Marine Mk III-C phaser rifles were purpose designed for these types of fights. Unlike the standard Mk III, the designers had recognized that the men and women behind the rifle would likely be in situations in which a tricorder would be necessary but unwieldy. To that end they had integrated a purpose built tricorder to the rifle. It added to the heft of the weapon, and could only be read while looking down the sights, however it was perfect for situations like these. Like he had done a hundred times in training and on other operations, Wes keyed in the scanner, bringing up a small holographic display over and around his sights. Firing a rapid burst of three shots to get the security crew's heads down, he then brought up the ship's schematics to find what he was looking for. Greaves: There's another corridor that branches off to the left ten meters ahead. We need to press into their attack to reach it! Brodie: You get Kel ahead, I’ll follow and cover the rear. Basilla: I’ll provide covering fire. Isabelle leaned out, a flash of purple narrowly missing her and fizzing out in the wall beside her leaving a blackened scorch mark. She held up the phaser rifle and fired several shots in the direction of the Dominion crew, paused for a second and fired several more bursts. Basilla: Go. Brodie: ::To Basilia:: Follow as fast as you can. Wes never even heard Brodie's words of encouragement. Without even a glance, Wes obeyed Basilia's directive, his trust in the woman's judgement implicit. There wasn't time to second guess when the blasts of energy were being exchanged. You just had to accept that the other members of the team were doing their job in the moment. From his low crouch Wes exploded into motion, sprinting forward as Isabella's orange beams past down the hall to his left. Hugging the right bulkhead the Marine tried to keep her field of fire as open as possible. Her return fire was their life blood as the three of them moved forward to the entrance to the next corridor. Finally reaching the crossing point, a four way intersection of hallways, Wes shouted instructions for the others moving with him, not waiting to see if they were followed or not. Greaves: Brodie, clear right! Kel, clear left! The pirate crew had seen them moving through the open and suddenly had decided to brave Basilia's fire. Two of them, now just a couple dozen meters further down the corridor, popped out into firing positions and let loose a hasty stream of energy. He didn't have time to slow down as the Marine approached the branching corridors so he didn't. Instead, he slammed into the corner of the intersection at full speed, his shoulder making an uncomfortable crunch as his momentum carried him into the metal. The move may have saved his life however, as purple poloron blasts scorched the bulkhead where he would have been had he slowed to a stop. Dropping back into a crouch, Wes leaned out from his new place of cover and snapped off a rapid series of shots, trying to pin the pirates back into the cover they'd left. By the sounds of it, he wasn't the only one fighting for his life. Sounds of a struggle were clear to both of his sides and behind him as Kel and Brodie covered the other two corners in the four way intersection. Heavy breathing and the sound of a sickly crunch of metal on flesh came from one end while a rapid series of phaser blasts came from the other. Every fiber of his being demanded the Marine turn to help his comrades who we're obviously fighting their own battles, but the firefight to his front was more important. If his fire slackened it would give the pirates enough freedom to train their sights back down the corridor again, where Ensign Basilia was sprinting toward them, completely exposed. Wes just had to trust that they could handle themselves for the precious seconds it would take Basilia to join them. Fortunately, Kel's voice offered some early assurance that he could handle himself. Kel: All clear here. Greaves: Basilia, I'll cover for you. Move! Basilia: Response Brodie: ::Shouting:: I’ve got something to buy some time – Izy…when you see the smoke – run! A hint of relief washed over the Marine at the sound of Brodie's voice. Even as he confirmed the Lieutenant Commander was still in fighting shape, he leaned out into the hall once again, firing off a half dozen controlled blasts to pin down the pirates once again. More than that Wes could hear someone prepping something metal behind him, which he could only guess was some kind of smoke grenade given the Counselor's comment. Kel: What smoke? Greaves: No time. Longer we're here the worse it's gonna get. Just keep covering and bounding. From a dozen meters down the hall, just past a slight curve in the corridor, Wes saw movement. The ship's crew had gotten reinforcements and it looked like they were preparing to rush their position. Given time, it would be disasterous for Basilia, and if the timing was bad enough, it'd make Brodie an easy target as well. Wes's answer to the increasing resistance was one drilled into him since Marine Corps boot camp so many years ago. Aggressive offensive action. Standing quickly and stepping fully into the corridor, Wes layed down an intense series of phaser blasts, no more than a quarter second between shots. At this close of range, the only thing to distrub his aim was the steps he took and the action of squeezing the trigger, both actions of which he was deliberatly and excellently drilled in. The bright orange energy plowed into the walls and doorframes the pirates were using for cover and sent several scurrying deeper down the hall. It was enough for the Marine to cross the intersection to the far side and gain a better firing position. Brodie: Gas out! Kel: oOGas?Oo Basilia: Response Once set on the far side however, he realized that Lieutenant Kel had followed him on the hazardous move. Brodie on the other hand took the opportunity to toss something around the corner, cannoning it off the curvature of the wall, and then a long slow hiss began. Fortunately the heavy sounds of running footfalls signaled Basilia's approach, and then all at once the team was back together. Brodie: Run! The hallway in the direction of the ship's crew had filled with smoke at an alarming rate, completely obscuring his field of fire. The effect worked both ways however, and at least for the moment, they had plenty of concealment. With the team back together, Wes took a hard left down the hall. From the schematics he knew this would circle around behind where the pirates had been pushing them from. More importantly, they were less than a hundred meters from the brig. Taking off at a hard jog, the Marine led the way, rifle at the ready but swinging widly from side to side at the force of the run. Greaves: Fifty meters this way and we'll circle behind them. Hurry, before the smoke dies down! Basilia: Response Kel: What was that? Brodie: Anesthizine…mixed with an opaque smoke. They can’t see through it…and if they try and walk through it...they’ll not make it five steps. The small group ate up the distance quickly. His heavy gear slowed down their movement significantly, but Wes was glad to have it. Especially with him up front. If he took a shot from someone laying in wait it just might save his life. Greaves: Not a bad trick Commander. Basilia: Response Kel: So we're doing chemical weapons now? Brodie: I’m not really a fighter…so I like to make sure I have a few tricks to keep things even. That was a mild option….so it won’t hold them for long before they regroup. Their collective breathing was labored from the exertion, but Wes was confident in how they were faring so far. They'd survived two firefights already, and the team was obviously still in high spirits. There wouldn't be so much talking if things were truly dire. Now they just needed to get to the brig and get the Commodore out. They could do this. As the team continued to run along the slightly curving auxiliary corridor they passed several dozen doors leading into other compartments as well as a few branching hallways. Glancing between is rifle sights, the holographic tricroder scan, and the corridor in front of him, the XO did his best to manage the flood of information his body was taking in while maintaining the fastest reaction time he could. The curving corridor was about to link back up with the hall they had started in, and by his assessment of the blueprints, they would pop out just a few meters behind where the Commander's smoke grenade had gone off. At least two minutes had gone by while they ran, and he hoped the smoke had dissipated. As they approached the intersection that was thankfully confirmed. A dozen humanoid bodies lay motionless, scattered about the corridor, knocked unconscious from the gas or phaser hits. Movement however caught his eye and the Marine immediately threw himself against the bulkhead bringing his rifle to bear. The action quickly proved unnecessary however as his sights came across a humanoid man seizing on the ground. Kel: Stop. Wait. This man needs help. Greaves: (Shaking his head and glancing further down the hall) Negative. We need to keep moving before more security show up. Basilia/Brodie: Response Wes took his eyes off the corridor long enough to meet Kel's gaze. It was obvious the Doctor felt strongly about the issue, and the moment Wes feared had come to pass. The Doctor had failed to immediately and instantly obey one of his orders. The hesitation was enough. Arguing would take longer than just dealing with the wounded man. Wearing a severe look, the Marine motioned the doctor toward the injured on the ground. It was the wrong decision to wait here, but he'd just have to hope it didn't bite them in the ass. Kel bent over the man with his tricorder and then holstered his weapon. He took out his hypospray. Kel: Just give me a minute, this man could hurt himself further, I can give him a sedative and we can be on our way. OOC - I think there was a slight mixup/copy paste error in the the tags for me so I smoothed over the wrinkle here. Sorry for any discontinuity! Greaves: 60 seconds Doc. No more. (Looking to Basilia) Ensign, help me cover the hall. Counselor, cover our rear. Brodie/Basilia: Response Kel frowned but turned back to his work. The seizure was intesne and it looked like V'Len was having trouble getting the hypospray administered. Wes turned his eyes back down the most likely place for a threat to pop out, rifle at the ready. Kel: Just relax sir I'm only trying to help. The hypospray finally fell in position but just as Kel pressed the release the man's hand shot up into his chest. A croaking gasp exited his lungs. Kel: ::Gasp:: The sound of something wet smacking against flesh followed by Kel's strained gasp delivered another shot of adreline to Wes's brain. His eyes snapped back to the Doctor to find Kel struggling above the now motionless crewman. The Doctor appeared to be waivering, barely keeping himself in a crouch, let alone standing up. Slowly, V'Len pushed himself against the wall and reached up to his chest. Even in the dim alert lighting of the vessel the Marine recognized the dark stain of blood on Kel's hands and chest. And a gore soaked knife held in the motionless crewman's hand. Kel: oO Greaves is going to kill me. Oo ::softly:: Commander could you assist me. Brodie/Basilia: Response Time slowed as the team collapsed on V'Len, trying to determine the extent of his injuries. Wes however stayed exactly where he was, several feet away and watching down the corridor. The way V'Len moved. They way his words came in gasps and the blood poured down his uniform. The wound was immensely serious. Worse yet, he could hear the sound of running from behind them. More of the crew were responding. This time from the direction they had come from. Greaves: We need to move. Now. Brig is Thirty more meters down the hall. Lieutenant, can you move? Kel tried once again to push himself up but this time he only succeeded in leaning off the wall and slumping down on his back on the floor. That answered that. Finally tearing himself from an overwatch position the Marine stepped toward the fallen Trilldorian and grabbed both Isabella and Alex's arms. Greaves: We're out of time. When that security team finds us we have to be some place defensible. The brig is our best bet. We'll have to stabilize him after we move. Basilia/Brodie: Responses Greaves: (Directing the woman down the hall) Ensign, blocking position. Now. Buy me 30 seconds. (Directing the counselor the other direction) Alex, cover the direction toward the brig. We're moving soon. Brodie/Basilia: Response Greaves: I understand. Trust me. Brodie/Basilia: Response With steel in his eyes the Marine looked from one to the other, then released his hold on their arms, letting them free. Without waiting to supervise their movements Wes knelt down directly in front of Kel, his rifle hanging loosely by a sling about his shoulders and the muzzle faintly scraping the metal deck plating. For a few seconds, his gaze stared directly into the Doctor's eyes, not for a second drifting to the slightly pulsating knife wound near where the Trilldorian's heart should be. His face was close enough to V'Len's to feel the haggard breathing from the wounded doctor. Greaves: (Quiet, deathly serious, tone) Lieutenant, listen to me closely. You are going to take your right hand and apply pressure to your wound. You are going to stand the hell up right now and run down that corridor, and when we get to the brig you are going to point to the anti-coagulant in your medkit and we're going to get you out of here. And do you know what happens if you don't? Kel: Response The sound of running feet was getting closer and Wes hoped that they had a few more seconds before the corridor erupted in a firefight again. Moreso, he hoped Isabella was ready to give them hell. Greaves: If you don't that means one of is going to pick you the hell up and carry you. You and I both know that means we're going to have one less gun in the fight and it can aggravate that injury. So, I'm going to say it one more time. Brodie/Basilia: Response Greaves: (Shouting but not breaking eye contact with Kel) I need twenty more seconds! (Quietly back to Kel) Stand. Up. Kel: Response Brodie/Basilia: Response OOC - Don, if you get a chance, let us know OOC how badly you want to be hurt and if you want us to carry you or not! Tags/TBC ========================= Major Wes Greaves Executive Officer Marine Detachment Commander USS Thor - NCC 82607 E239702WG0 =========================
  6. I found this post from @Alex Brodie exceptionally poignant and a really great self-reflection between acts. Ben once again shows the massive depth of his writing in just a few short paragraphs.
  7. ((Transporter Room 1, Deck 7, USS 'Oumuamua )) According to the Oumuamua's EMH, V'Len Kel did not have medical privileges in the Oumuamua's sickbay. The EMH had rather begrudgingly allowed him to make limited recommendations for their care. The EMH had not been particularly impressed with Kel's salt/silica treatment which V'Len thought any other medical officer would have been. Fortunately the EMH was all too happy to work with the Thor's medical staff who had mostly arrived from escape pods unscathed. They had been willing to feed Kel information and keep him apprised of everyone's progress. He had to admit the sickbay of the Oumuamua was very impressive. He hoped commander Hartman or Commodore V'Airu would permit him to utilized the facility, especially on some of the more difficult cases such as crewman Darby. V'Len had taken some down time which he knew was important. Now he found himself in a situation he had not expected. The Oumuamua was chasing down the warship which had abducted Commodore Kells in the hopes of getting Aron back. Ideally they would simply transport him off the ship to safety, but as a backup Greaves had put together a boarding party at V'Airu's behest and he had been specifically requested. Recent history had shown that V'Len and Greaves did not have a flawless relationship. In fact they tended to rub each other the wrong way. Now, as he watched Greaves get his marines psyched up for a rescue, Kel was working overtime to make sure he watched what he did and said. Greaves: Thanks for coming down so quickly everyone. I don't know how much time we have before go-time so we're gonna cover this quick. We're going after Commodore Kells. Personally. The Marines nodded or grunted their approval and determination to get the job done. Kel could not help but be impressed at their willingness to throw themselves into harm's way. Kel: ::nodding support:: oO I hope Corelli can get those transporters to work. Oo Brodie/Basilia: Response Greaves: Commodore V'Airu has us on an intercept course with the ship that took the skipper. The Oumuamua's got the advantage, but in a straight up fight the outcome is far from clear. Especially since we need to get our Commodore off that ship before it runs or blows up. Lieutenant Commander Hartmann is leading a team to find a way to transport through the Dominion shields. Ideally, we get that puzzle piece solved, find Kells on sensors, then beam him right here. Wes paused, looking across the three faces before him. Greaves: You can tell by what I'm wearing how confident I am that will work out. Indeed Greaves was kitted out in his finest marine fatigues with armor and weapons at the ready. Kel himself had chosen a uniform with pockets for extra supplies. He had a phaser on one hip with his ice knife on the other. He also carried his Medkit with all the supplies he hoped he would need to get through the ordeal. Kel: So if we can't bring the commodore to us we go to him? Brodie/Basilia: Response Greaves: That's where we come in. If for some reason we can't get Kells off with transporters we go in instead. We're going to board the Dominion ship, find the skipper, then beam off with transport tags. I know everyone gets basic combat training at the Academy, but this is no basic mission. Basilia and I are trained for this, (pause, glancing at Kel and Brodie) but you two aren't. I need to know right now if you can handle this. No judgment if you say no. I just can't be going in there with extra liabilities. The "labilities" remark had to be aimed at him. Kel knew Brodie was a veteran of numerous dangerous missions and he kept his eye in on the phaser range. Kel knew he need to choose his works carefully to assure Greaves he would be a useful member of the team. Kel: Not to worry major. Remember half of me was a security officer before my accident. My training will kick in when it's needed. (beat) Besides I'm primarily here to make sure to make sure we get out of whatever you lead us into. Well so much for carefully chosen words. Basilia/Brodie/Greaves: Response Kel: ::nervously:: I'm so sorry Major that came out all wrong. I was merely trying to say that my role is to provide medical support where it's needed. (beat) Especially for Aron when we find him. Basilia/Brodie/Greaves: Response Kel's antennae were once again twitching and he decided to beat a retreat over to the transporter pad. Kel: Why don't I just wait over here quietly? Basilia/Brodie/Greaves: Response Tags/TBC -- Lieutenant JG V’Len Kel Medical Officer USS Thor (NCC-82607) T239811VK2 He/Him (character and player)
  8. Jacob, Greaves' player, is always an excellent writer, but I found his personal log in particular rather poignant. ((5 Hours After the Oumuamua's Arrival)) ((XO's Office, Deck 1, USS Thor)) First Officer's Log, supplemental I still haven't had time to talk it over with Commodore V'Airu, so no idea how the Oumuamua got here so fast, but their sudden appearance has saved countless lives. Possibly even the Thor herself. The Oumuamua has transferred most of her engineering staff to the Thor and their entire small craft complement has been collecting the survivors of our evacuation. There's still a few dozen unaccounted for, but we believe we'll find them before the day is done. That's the good news. The bad news is the cost to this all. I had thought the QSD incident was the worst I'd ever see… I wish that was so. Even if all of our missing crew come back alive our casualties still make me sick. 167 dead. Over 200 injured. Many of them critically. We've transferred the worst of them to the Oumuamua's facilities and work continues on restoring spaceworthiness to the Thor. She won't sail under her own power and warp is out of the question, but with a tow we might just get her back to Federation space and a drydock in one piece. It'd go faster if the Oumuamua had come out with her full crew complement, but since she's running a skeleton crew we're relying mostly on the recovered evacuees to get back to work immediately. As for the crew who remained behind during evacuation, I've ordered them to 12 hours of mandatory rest as well as medical follow ups aboard the Oumuamua. I personally led the charge on medical exams and it seems I got off light with just a sprained wrist and the cut to my head. As tired as I am though, the work on the Thor is going to be significant, and she needs someone familiar with the current situation to guide our initial efforts. I've decided to forgo my own order for at least today. I'll get a nap when I can, but until the critical repairs are a sure thing and until we account for the rest of the crew, I'm going to remain on the bridge directing the recovery efforts. Commodore V'Airu has assured me that her senior staff, or at least the ones with her, are working to track down the Dominion Battlercruiser which abducted Commodore Kells. The plan is to pursue once we can get the Thor stabilized, and it's a plan I fully support. I just fear that we're going to take too long getting off this ball of water and the skipper will be lost forever. I've been running the events through my head of how we got to this point trying to find where I went wrong. What I could have done differently… and I'm just coming up dry. I made the right call every step of the way. I'm sure of it… but we still lost so many people. (Silence) (Silence) (Silence) Major Jordans told me something once about leadership. It was right after we lost Newson--- After I lost Newson. He said that leadership was hard, but the hardest part was the inevitable day where you make the best decisions in a bad situation and lose good people. I thought he meant it as a reminder that bad things happen to good people and that's what we signed up for. What he really meant was that the harshest lesson of leadership is that you and your team can give their all and still lose. He was trying to teach me to understand that. To embrace it and move on. I think today I think I understand it better now. (Silence) End log. ((Several days later)) ((Bridge, Deck 1, USS Oumuamua)) 15 hours. Wes hadn't slept that long in… ever possibly? Not since he was in his early 20s at the very least. And the sonic shower… oh man had that felt amazing. So good he'd almost fallen asleep standing up. And a fresh uniform even! Wes had thought he'd never feel the sensation of clean fabric again. With the Oumuamua's help and a tremendous effort from the surviving engineering teams, they'd gotten the Thor into orbit and operating at 1/4 impulse all on her own. It had taken another half day to reinforce the weakened hull for tow, which is when Wes had finally gotten to a clean and dark set of quarters aboard the Luna class ship for his first chance at true rest in days. Now with both ships ready, they were underway with the Vesta class in tow. Most of the crew had been transferred to the Oumuamua leaving only a skeleton crew aboard to the Thor to manage things, and now Wes had been summoned to see Commodore V'Airu along with the ship's XO, Lieutenant Commander Hartmann. Which was the reason Wes was currently standing on the bridge, leaning against the bulkhead near thte turbolift. He was waiting for Hartmann. The ship's current crew situation was complicated. With most of the crew being from the Thor but led by a mixture of Oumuamua and Thor senior staff, there was bound to be some strange feelings. Wes was an XO with a crew and no ship. Hartmann was an XO with a ship and no crew. The Marine wanted to head any sour feelings off at the pass. The hiss of turbolift doors announced the arrival of the other first officer and Wes pushed off the wall making himself visible to catch the man before he strode directly to the CO's office. Greaves: Hey, Hartmann, wait up. (Motioning to the side of the bridge) Got a sec to talk before we go inside? Hartmann: Response The Marine led the way to the corner of the bridge and waved away an ensign who was working on an auxiliary console there. For a few seconds Wes watched the crewman walk away until they were out of earshot then turned to face his counterpart. Greaves: (In a low voice) First off, I want to say thanks for everything you all have done the last few days. You saved lives, and you saved the Thor. Thank you. Hartmann: Response Greaves: So, I know this set-up we got going is weird. Your ship. My crew. Well, mixed crew, but mostly mine. And we're going after my skipper… under the command of yours… Hartmann: Response Greaves: I appreciate that. Really what I'm getting at is, I'm here to support you and Commodore V'Airu. Anything you need, let me know. This is your ship. I'm back-up… just don't sideline me. Hartmann: Response (OOC: Happy to continue this back and forth in a separate scene if you want Amanda) (( CO's Ready Room, Deck 1, USS 'Oumuamua )) With the XO relationship settled for now, the pair made their way to the Commodore's office and hit the chime before entering. V'Airu was as Wes remembered her. Professional. Organized. Possessing a piercing gaze and a demanding demeanor. The impression she gave off was cold, but Wes knew a bit better from his time with her in wargame exercises. The woman had a hidden streak of passion and a depth of experience few in Starfleet could match. With a flick of her gaze the Commodore directed him and Hartmann to sit which they quickly did before the woman began her briefing. V'Airu: Major, Commander. We will pursue the battlecruiser with all haste. Ask any questions you have before I assign your duties. Greaves: Good to hear ma'am. Have we been able to trail their warp signature or do we have a location in mind? Hartmann: Responses V'Airu: Unclear if the Alpha Quadrant was their destination, but Vomek reports that it appears to be en route to a Cenobian temple. (beat, to Greaves) Are you familiar with such a temple? Cenobian? The species was vaguely familiar from his pre-mission readings. Wes knew they were a Gamma Quadrant species with a home planet somewhere near old Dominion space. Past that, he wasn't overly knowledgeable about them. Greaves: No ma'am. I know of the Cenobians, but I'm not familiar with their religion. He looked to Hartmann to see if the other officer had a better understanding but Commodore V'Airu pressed on quickly. V'Airu: Very well. Then here are your assignments: Greaves, assemble a recovery team, to infiltrate the battlecruiser on intercept and beam aboard to recover the commodore. Based on Thor personnel files, I suggest a team of Basilia, Kel, and Brodie. The commodore may need immediate assistance, both medical and psychological. Greaves: Aye aye, ma'am. V'Airu: Hartmann, oversee the engineering team. We need a way through Dominion shields. (beat) You will also command shipboard defense, should we need it. Take Thor's chief of engineering, Corelli, and tactical officer Kessler, plus assistant chief of security Richards and medical officer Toz. Cover all your bases. Though she had issued the orders to Hartmann, her gaze also flicked to Greaves, to see if he had any insight to offer regarding his officers. Hartmann: Response Greaves: Agreed. V'Airu: (sharp nod) I will remain on the bridge. Cabrillo and Vomek will remain with me, plus Katsim and Ulasso from Thor. (beat) Questions? The woman cut her briefing sharply with a final question. The suddenness and the directness caught Wes off guard. It was a style wholly unlike Commodore Kells, and yet it was one he was familiar with from his previous time as the woman's acting first officer. It served as a reminder to the bad taste that experience had left him with. This time however there was a lot more riding on their success or failure. His reply was equally to the point. Greaves: None. Hartmann: Response V'Airu: Very well. Dismissed. The two were off and away in a moment, and Ossa followed them a few seconds later. (OOC - Happy to backsim anything in these two scenes, otherwise I'm gonna press on to the set up) ========================= Major Wes Greaves Executive Officer Marine Detachment Commander USS Thor - NCC 82607 E239702WG0 =========================
  9. ((Bridge – USS THOR – Okaea Sea)) In Jack’s mind he was rocking in ever so gently in a summers mid-day breeze. Laying in a hammock tethered between two trees on the South end of the Academy’s large open park. In the other end of the hammock was Michele, another cadet he had become very close to. Her smile was as calming as the sunny day itself and her eyes were intoxicating. Class would be starting soon, and he’d have to leave her to enjoy the rest of the afternoon on her own and he really did not want to do that. Something then caught Jack’s eye, a tricorder was in his right hand. What was that doing here he thought slowly to himself and then looked back at Michele. She opened her mouth to say something what he heard was more like the sounds of metal contorting as it twisted slightly. Jack slammed his eyes shut and gripped the tricorder harder trying to hear her voice more clearly. As he gripped the tricorder pain shoot up through his right rib cage and he opened his eyes to see what Michele was doing to him. The sunny day on campus was no longer there, instead his world was, well upside down, partially. Jack lay on his back looking up at what appeared to be the deck of the bridge was up on its side. His legs and feet bent upward in a sitting position. As he glanced at his legs, he realized that he was seated on the port side wall of the Thor’s bridge, his back was on the bridge floor and the ship was rocking. His ribs did hurt and then he noticed slight pain in his right hand. Glancing down he saw the tricorder in his hand, a death grip on it and he immediately loosened his grip. Then everything came rushing back at him all at once, the battle, the order to abandon ship and then the impact with the planet’s surface. His last thought just before impact was to grab the tricorder he had linked to the ships computer. He must have grabbed it without really realizing he was doing so. Slowly he felt his toes wiggle in his boots and then he tried to move his legs just enough to search for pain. He slowly did this body check until a voice cut through the air and grabbed his attention. Greaves: (Strained voice) Who else is hurt? Brodie: ::Laughing wearily:: I’m going to go with everyone… Jack’s head rolled to his right and noticed Brodie moving and so was Greaves. Jack started to roll to his right and then turned back to his left as the pain of his broken rib or ribs shoot through him. He had sat up when Brodie made his way over and offered a lending hand. Brodie: Here, let me help… Kessler: ::looking up at Brodie with a slight smile on his face:: Thank’s doc, just a broken rib is all. Corelli: I’m fine, I think…. Maybe not. Ulasso: Responses For the moment the ship lay on her side threatening to capsize completely. In that orientation the wall had become the floor and the small team began picking themselves up. It was a strange feeling to be looking up at the chairs and consoles of the bridge. The waves had taken the vessel under tow and the floor rocked slightly beneath their feet with the subtle motion of the waves. Greaves: I'm sure we're not the only ones hurt. We need... (grimace) We need to right the ship. Ulasso, can you reach the conn? Maybe we've still got a thruster or two operational. Between his strength and lizard-like movement, Jack watched as Ulasso was able to navigate the listed bridge and grabbed onto the Conn. Ulasso: One thruster operational sir. I'll start to work on righting us, but it will take me a bit using only one thruster to right the entire ship (or what's left of it) while facing resistance from the water. It's a tall order but I think I can manage it. Brodie: We’ve got to get the bulkheads closed…otherwise we’ll get dragged down by the water weight. Kessler: On it Commander. Jack made his way over to one of the consoles closest to him and started working the commands from a very awkward ankle, almost like working upside down on a bobbing cork. Greaves: Even so, we're going to need to keep the ship from sinking too deep otherwise it'll all be moot. The pressure eventually will pop the hull like a can. Brodie: If we stay on the surface…we’ll be a sitting duck…they’ll have seen where we crashed. Corelli: We could fire a thruster manually, but it’s a 97 meter climb, that direction. And the starboard side exploded, so we can only hope we make it to one that’s operational. Kessler: Looks like we have enough power to secure emergency bulkheads but not all are responding to the command. I have at least 11 showing no power at all to them. Ulasso: Without knowing what creatures reside within Okaea's biosphere, we may be vulnerable from below as well. I assume an ocean planet gives room for some rather large fish to grow, and our crash may have sent ripples out that they will detect. As the others provided feedback to Greaves and Brodie Jack saw a med kit laying on the wall next to him. Luck was on his side today, the kit must have broken free from a storage locker on the bridge. He grabbed the kit and opening it pulled a hypospray and loaded it with a pain killer and then gave himself an injection and then slung the kit over his head and shoulders. Brodie: Do we have anything in the way of heating, power – this water is going to be cold. Ulasso: The ship is running at about 10% power. Kessler: ::stepping over to Brodie:: I found this :: holding up the med kit:: Hopefully it will help. Corelli: Sure, we can use hand phasers, or I can make you a heater with portable power supply. Not very efficient, but it will get hot and heat the water in a small area. Perhaps… ::he stumbled a step, tried to recover:: lets each take a task, and regroup at a suitable location? Corelli: I’ll go fire that thruster, see if I can ::he motioned with his hand:: flip it. Short range comms? Check your badge. Jack felt as if he must of hit his head harder than he thought. Corelli and Ulasso were contradicting each other. To Jack it sounded like Ulasso was firing the thrusters and trying to right the ship while Corelli was going off on a trek through the ship to fire the thruster. Where they talking about different thrusters or the same one. Jack just needed to focus on the bulkheads and getting them closed. Kessler: Major ::beat:: two of the bulkhead doors I do not have power to have just been sealed manually. Looks like we have survivors down there working with us. Greaves/Ulasso/Brodie: Responses Brodie: We’ve no comms either – there wasn’t enough evacuation capacity for everyone, we’ll have people trapped down there. Ulasso: Trying to right this ship with one thruster is taking my full attention, I won't be able to focus on communications at the moment. Corelli: Ugh…. Guess I’ll build one of those too. Be ready, there won’t be any way for me to warn you when I fire these thrusters! Oh, somebody’ll have to get portable power supplies from storage lockers near Engineering, which is probably flooded. Ulasso: Something is coming at the ship from below. Counselor Brodie, do you have any recommendations on how to bury an enormous fear deep within me? Something coming towards the ship. That was enough o draw anyone’s attention to the forward view screen/port and there was in the depths headed towards them. Jack turned back to his console, and pulled up the shield network he had built using the Valkyrie fighters. oO Damn though little ships Oo he thought to himself as each one still showed connected to one another and still generating power to the make shift shields. At least they were helping keep the Thor from sinking too quickly. Kessler: I still have the shields up from the fighters Major but their power is down to 55%. I estimate they will fail in about 1 hour under these conditions. Greaves/Brodie/Ulasso/Corelli: Responses Corelli waved a hand at the responses and traveled off to the door. Jack still did not understand where Corelli was off to but that was not a concern at the moment. The Thor seemed to be moving and from what he could tell these creatures where somehow carrying the Thor along. Something had to be done for the crew and now this aquatic threat was presented. Kessler: ::standing up right and turning to Greaves:: Major, If we can get an emergency transponder on the hull we should be able to send a single hi burst SOS to the research station. If my calculations are correct we are less than 100 kilometers from them. The Ra could provide assistance. ::beat:: or I can try sending a signal from one of the probes that are circling and see if we can send the SOS that way. Greaves/Brodie/Ulasso/: Responses TAGS / TBC Ensign Jack Kessler Tactical Officer USS Thor T239901JK1
  10. Just like Ulasso, Kessler is newer to our group and doing a great job. Same scene, different perspective. IC: ((Bridge, Deck One, USS Thor)) Another explosion rocked the deck plating beneath his feet and fresh flames and sparks jettisoned from the back wall as another EPS conduit overloaded in a tremendous fashion. The lights overhead flickered as power flow was interrupted and as the Thor’s engines began to fail so did many other systems. The ship seemed to list and more explosions could be heard through the deck plating. It was in that moment Jack realized that this was not going to end well, fear started to grasp at him as the truth came out, the Thor was doomed. Jack’s breathing became shallower and quickened in pace, adrenaline pulsed and all in combination he realized they were most likely about to die. Greaves: Kessler, start returning fire. I don't care if it's a random damn direction. We're not going down without swinging back! Kessler: ::Looking to the Major:: firing phasers, random spread. ::beat:: no hits. Jack continued randomly firing and even targeted the object off their starboard quarter, but if it was hit there were no signs that they could tell was damage. Greaves: Ensign Ulasso, how long can we remain aloft with our engines in this shape? Ulasso: We are losing power fast and the planet's gravity is starting to take hold, however I believe I can buy us some time by using impulse power to glide through the atmosphere. We are unable to maintain this position and cannot ascend any higher however. This would take us away from the anti-matter pods as well. Kessler: Major, we’ve lost the phasers. Engineering is not responding either. Brodie: If we’ve lost the antimatter pods…we may have lost a significant part of the engineering section when they were severed… Greaves: Ulasso, bring us into a spiraling dive and see if you can point us toward wherever those shots came from. (Turning) Kessler, I don't care if we have to fight with probes. Find me a way to strike back. His voice was harsh and unforgiving. His commands that of a battlefield officer, deep guttural tones cutting through the din of chaos. They carried with them a fighting spirit unblemished by the dire state of the ship. Ulasso: Lt. Greaves, we are being hailed. It's not a call signal I recognize, but it must be close as it is able to get through the atmospheric isotope interference. Shall I patch them through sir? Pain shot up through the side of Jack’s head for the first time and he reached up to cup the backright side of his head. It was wet, Jack pulled his hand down quick and his hand was covered in a glossy crimson liquid. oOWell add one more thing to the listOo he thought reaching back up and making sure his scalp was at least still intact. Kessler: Major, can we use the Valkyries to our advantage? ::beat:: If we can launch them they can provide cover for us or even be remotely used as guided torpedoes at the hostile. Before Major Greaves could respond there the sound of clattering metal resounded across the room as a maintenance access hatch clambered to the ground and the figure of their chief engineer crawled out from a Jefferies Tube. The man was wounded, a smear of blood working its way down his forehead. Unfortunately, the look fit in fine with the hellscape that was the Thor's bridge. Jack could not understand why the Chief Engineer had not headed for engineering but instead choose to head for the bridge. It took a few moments for Jack to realize the only reason Corelli would have done this was because, there was no engineering to head to. The dire realization put a nauseating knot is Jack’s stomach, this fight was over. Corelli: I’m real tired of forcing doors today. Everybody ok? Brodie: ::Turning to Corelli:: We are, but a lot of people aren’t. see if you can get any kind of internal sensors online – we can’t see the extent of the damage if we can’t measure the structural integrity field. Alex turned to look between Wes and Jack. Brodie: Would they even be flight-worthy after that impact…would we want to send out maidens out there? Greaves: The shuttlebays are probably a wreck but it's not a bad idea. The Valkyries would have gone on alert 5 when we went to red alert. Kessler, get a hold of flight operations and see if we can launch. Ulasso, put the hail on screen. The view screen tried to come to life as the static field view brought an unknown species into their gaze. Jack felt anger shoot through him as the arrogant Captain began to address Major Greaves. Pirate Captain Shok: =/\= Starfleet vessel. We are conducting a salvage operation. We have lost property on this planet. If you or your crew make any continued attempts, consider this your final warning. Greaves: =/\= (Shouting) You have engaged a Starfleet vessel. Stand down immediately or face the consequences of your actions. =/\= Pirate Captain Shok: =/\= Any perceived threat will be considered an act of aggression, and you will be destroyed. =/\= Slowly, Greaves stood and the Marine took several steps forward toward the viewer. Visibly shaking in fury, his voice was calm. Almost quiet, yet the hatred in his message shone brighter than the antimatter just detonated. Greaves: =/\= Whoever you are, I swear to you, I will find you, and make you pay for the lives you've taken from me. =/\= With a flourish, Wes reached forward and smashed his fist onto Ulasso's console, ending the transmission. In a flash, the viewscreen returned to the image of the Thor's aft camera looking out directly between the nacelles. Viscous black smoke poured from the engineering hull and the comforting blue glow from the nacelles was disturbingly absent. Ulasso let out a slight yelp as Major Greaves suddenly smashed the end transmission button on his console with the blunt of his first. He gave a quick embarrassed glance around to see if anyone had noticed, but all attention was on the commanding officer. Greaves: Kessler, weapons, now. Weapons? What weapons? The torpedo launchers were completely offline and the phasers, well the phasers if they even had power had no way of locking onto the hostile vessel with all the sensor platforms down. Ulasso: I still can't get a read on their position to optimize defensive maneuvers, sir. As we continue to descend we are once again blind. Blind again. There was that phrase Jack was becoming all too familiar with and really starting to hate. The Thor was slowly losing altitude and the enemy had the upper hand. Grabbing a tricorder from underneath the Tactical console Jack linked the unit to the main computer and began immediately downloading every piece of information their limited sensors had grabbed about the attack that seemed to be causing the death of the Thor. As he started the download an indicator lit up on Jack’s console. As the Thor was falling into the atmosphere, they were nearing some of the remaining probes that had been launched earlier. They were set on a pre-programed flight path and were in a circling pattern. They were not torpedoes nor did they contain any warheads of any kind, but they could be useful. Jack leaned on his console, smoke still lingering in the air, his nostrils hurt a little but he hardly noticed it. The probes were on his mind, first there were nine signals, then eleven, moments passed by and then of the 72 probes there were a total of 27 still talking to the Thor. Corelli: You’ve probably got power for a torpedo, phasers are useless. Brodie: I don’t think we’re going to get any quarter here…and another hit like that and it’ll be academic anyway. Ulasso: I dread to see the foul academy that creature would have been trained in. Corelli: Engineering’s a crater. Whatever you do, make it fast. Greaves: (Shouting) Someone, give me options. All ideas are on the table at this point! Brodie: ::Quietly:: Wes…we need to consider the crew. Brodie had said something in a low enough voice Jack could not make it out but the Major looked as if he were somewhere else for a brief couple of moments that felt like they lasted an eternity. Greaves: (Quietly) ... the crew... “The crew”, Brodie was recommending Greaves remember the crew. Jack’s mind went racing backwards, he had been so focused on the attack that he had not thought about the crew in that context. The crew would have been doing their jobs, manning their stations and ensuring the best for the survival of the Thor as any Starfleet crew would. Now Jack’s thoughts turned to individual crew, V’Len for one. The medical officer and Jack had spent shore leave together and he had learned a lot about fungi and V’Len’s crazy theory about how these mushrooms could talk to one another. The two had also spent time in the holodeck playing detectives and Jack wished that at this moment this was just a really bad holodeck program. V’Len was no doubt is Sickbay in this chaos, probably holding it together better than Jack was. Then there was Nesre Salo, one of the ships councilors. The beauty of the Orion woman had captured Jack off guard during shore leave and the time she spent with her on Bajor was a cherished memory. Where was she is all this chaos and was she ok. Jack realized that he had friends in danger and this was something more new to him than he was ready for. Brodie: You know what I’m suggesting. Kel: =/\= Kel to bridge. What's going on up there? I've got casualties down here. What's our status? =/\= Greaves: =/\= Major Greaves here. Ship's in rough shape Lieutenant, and we're getting sucked deeper into the atmosphere. =/\= Kel: =/\= Has Lt. Corelli reached you? He was injured but left without treatment. =/\= Corelli: =/\= You think a little explosion induced critical head trama could stop me? Engineers don’t leave their posts! =/\= Greaves: =/\= He's in good company up here doc. There's a lot of hurt people everywhere. (pause) If you had to, can you move all of the patients you've got in sickbay? =/\= Kel: =/\= Response Greaves: =/\= Understood. Stand by for follow-on guidance. Bridge out. =/\= V’Len was in sickbay and doing his job, Jack felt a light bit of relief knowing his friend was alive. Kessler: Major ::beat:: as we have fallen into the atmosphere I have re-established contact with 27 of our original 72 probes. Jack’s comment was cut off by shuttering in the deck plating at the Thor continued to fall into the planets atmosphere. Greaves: Belay the Valkyrie launch. All power to maneuvering thrusters and structural integrity fields. Ensign Ulasso, how is that gliding going? Ulasso: We are entering the lower atmosphere sir, the planet's gravity is taking over making it hard to keep a lower angle of descent. Soon we will be pulled into a dive, and I don't have enough power to fight it. Kessler: Aye sir, routing all power to the integrity fields. Corelli: It’ll hold together, don’t worry! Greaves moved back from his command chair to Ulasso’s station. Jack noticed a hand reach up from Greaves and land on Ulasso’s shoulder which immediately got Jack to glance up and see what was happening. Greaves: Ensign, you stand relieved. Give me the conn. Greaves, taking the conn. Jack’s breath halted and he glanced to Brodie and then back to Ulasso who started moving from his chair so that Greaves could take over the station. Ulasso: Yes sir, let me prepare to transfer conn control. Greaves: The best we can do now is to buy time for the crew to evacuate, and that's something I can do from here... alone. The rest of you, get to an escape pod. Brodie: Response Greaves: The state the ship is in, the computer isn't going to be able to make the decisions that need to be made. I'll glide us the rest of the way in. The Thor was not going to make it out of this fight and Greaves seemed to know that. Jack was sure that the Marine was not giving up but taking the last possible options now to protect his crew and save as many as he could. Greaves reached down and keyed in a command on the console. A piercing boatswain's whistle filled the entire vessel. Every compartment that had power and audio heard the same sound at the same moment as the ship-wide channel opened. Greaves: =/\= All hands, this is Major Greaves. (Pause) Abandon ship. I say again, abandon ship. (Pause) If you're trapped and can't get to an escape pod, brace for impact. I'm staying aboard and I'll try and put us down as softly as possible. After the crash I'll come find you... For everyone else, it's been a pleasure. (Long pause) Good luck. Greaves out. =/\= Ulasso: Godspeed and thank you sir. Corelli: I’ll hold it together until the last 8 seconds, then dump all remaining power into the RCS. At that point, we won’t need life support anyway! If you prefer to oversee the evacuation, I’ve got it from here. Its not hard to fly a crashing ship. Brodie: Response Corelli: I wish these things had seat restraints. Jack stood at his station starring at Greaves, his thoughts now trailing back to his parents. During all of time on starships and stations Jack had never heard the actual order to abandon ship. It was a gut-wrenching order to listen to and one that he had not thought he would have heard this early in his career. However, that was not what his thoughts focused on, Loyalty. The one thing his father had instilled in Jack’s upbringing was loyalty above all else. Jack was loyal to his family and to his oaths. He was loyal to his dogs and those he called friend. At this moment, a frozen moment in time loyalty was what he owed Greaves, Kel, Salo and the all the others onboard the Thor. Jack was going nowhere and if his life meant those he now called friend got a chance to live then he would live up to his loyalty to them. Kessler: Sorry Major ::beat: I cannot my station until our crew is safe. ::beat:: Plus you’re going to need some help getting this beast down softly. Jack had a plan growing in his head, last minute chaos or just a surge of whatever you want to call it, he had an idea. Greaves: Response Kessler: Sir, I am rerouting the Valkyries shields and inter-linking them all to one another. Much like they would do in combat flying. I am going to use there shields to envelope the engineering section and try to seal off the major hull breaches. It might now last long but it should provide enough time to get the crew off the ship and prevent a quick sinking. Jack did not wait for a response, he was already trying the Valkyrie shields into one another and prepping his action for deployment. Greaves/Brodie/Corelli: Response TAGS Ensign Jack Kessler Tactical Officer USS Thor T239901JK1
  11. Some great exposition here. ((Bridge, Deck One, USS Thor)) It takes a lot to make a Saurian nervous. Add academy training on how to compartmentalize your emotions on top of that and it made Ulasso a hard nut to crack when things got rough. That being said, potential imminent death at only the age of 13 (even being a full adult for a Saurian), on his first mission when his career had just begun made it so Ulasso was doing everything he could to keep it together. This was not the way he had thought this would go, fully confident in his training and skills and that he would have been able to make a great impression to his new CO and crew. Now he had piloted them right into a vulnerable position where they were left crippled. Nothing to do but try and keep it together and stick to his training. He leaned in to listen to what the terrifying creature on the viewscreen had to say, taking a gulp as he realized one of the trophies around the creature's neck was decidedly reptilian. Pirate Captain Shok: =/\= Starfleet vessel. We are conducting a salvage operation. We have lost property on this planet. If you or your crew make any continued attempts, consider this your final warning. Greaves: =/\= (Shouting) You have engaged a Starfleet vessel. Stand down immediately or face the consequences of your actions. =/\= Pirate Captain Shok: =/\= Any perceived threat will be considered an act of aggression, and you will be destroyed. =/\= Greaves: =/\= Whoever you are, I swear to you, I will find you, and make you pay for the lives you've taken from me. =/\= Ulasso let out a slight yelp as Major Greaves suddenly smashed the end transmission button on his console. He gave a quick embarrassed glance around to see if anyone had noticed, but all attention was on the commanding officer. Greaves: Kessler, weapons, now. Ulasso: I still can't get a read on their position to optimize defensive maneuvers, sir. As we continue to descend we are once again blind. Corelli/Kessler: Responses Brodie: I don’t think we’re going to get any quarter here…and another hit like that and it’ll be academic anyway. Ulasso: I dread to see the foul academy that creature would have been trained in. Corelli/Kessler: Responses Greaves: (Shouting) Someone, give me options. All ideas are on the table at this point! Brodie: ::Quietly:: Wes…we need to consider the crew. Ulasso looked to the Major and noticed his eyes go distant, as if he were somewhere else for a brief couple of moments that felt like they lasted an eternity. The Major then seemed to snap back to reality with a haunting look of clarity on his face (or so Ulasso thought, these humans had so much non-verbal communication through their facial features it made it hard to distinguish sometimes. He thought back to the academy where his friend Kel who was experienced with humans had helped him navigate the intricacies of conversation with them. Greaves: (Quietly) ... the crew... Brodie: You know what I’m suggesting. Kel: =/\= Kel to bridge. What's going on up there? I've got casualties down here. What's our status? =/\= Greaves: =/\= Major Greaves here. Ship's in rough shape Lieutenant, and we're getting sucked deeper into the atmosphere. =/\= Kel: =/\= Has Lt. Corelli reached you? He was injured but left without treatment. =/\= Corelli: =/\= Response =/\= Greaves: =/\= He's in good company up here doc. There's a lot of hurt people everywhere. (pause) If you had to, can you move all of the patients you've got in sickbay? =/\= Kel: =/\= Response Greaves: =/\= Understood. Stand by for follow-on guidance. Bridge out. =/\= Ulasso kept his focus on monitoring the Thor's descent. Communications had once again been silenced by the isotopes in the atmosphere, and operations were limited due to the damage they had taken. All he could do was hope they weren't fired on again and maybe he could guide the ship down to a landing in the ocean. Hopefully they wouldn't be swallowed by whatever lived in that vast ocean. Corelli/Kessler: Responses Greaves: Belay the Valkyrie launch. All power to maneuvering thrusters and structural integrity fields. Ensign Ulasso, how is that gliding going? Ulasso: We are entering the lower atmosphere sir, the planet's gravity is taking over making it hard to keep a lower angle of descent. Soon we will be pulled into a dive, and I don't have enough power to fight it. Corelli/Brodie/Kessler: Response Ulasso smelled the commander approaching his console once again. The first time he had approached and cut the transmission to the Pirate ship Ulasso had taken in his scent. For a Saurian, someone's scent was more important than their appearance. Major Greave's was that of a clean cut Marine, lacking the extra non-necessary oddities such as perfumes, lotions and colognes that some creatures adorned themselves with. It was also a clean scent, that of someone who followed a strict, unflinching hygiene regiment. Ulasso assumed the Major even cleaned out his toothpaste cap. He felt the Major's hand fall on his shoulder. Greaves: Ensign, you stand relieved. Give me the conn. Even in this dire circumstance, Ulasso felt a sense of loss at having to step away from flying his new best friend, the Thor. Through all of this he had connected with the ship in a way he found it hard to do with other sentient beings. He was an Ensign on his first mission however, and in these dire circumstances he needed to put his love and pride aside and defer to his commander. It was the best chance of getting out of this alive. Ulasso: Yes sir, let me prepare to transfer conn control. Greaves: The best we can do now is to buy time for the crew to evacuate, and that's something I can do from here... alone. The rest of you, get to an escape pod. Brodie: Response Greaves: The state the ship is in, the computer isn't going to be able to make the decisions that need to be made. I'll glide us the rest of the way in. Corelli/Kessler: Response Ulasso watched as Greaves reached down and keyed in a command on the console. A piercing boatswain's whistle filled the entire vessel. Every compartment that had power and audio heard the same sound at the same moment as the ship-wide channel opened. Greaves: =/\= All hands, this is Major Greaves. (Pause) Abandon ship. I say again, abandon ship. (Pause) If you're trapped and can't get to an escape pod, brace for impact. I'm staying aboard and I'll try and put us down as softly as possible. After the crash I'll come find you... For everyone else, it's been a pleasure. (Long pause) Good luck. Greaves out. =/\= Ulasso had finished his work and stepped away from the conn. He watched as the Major took his seat and was engulfed by the chair. The Major stood over a foot shorter than Ulasso, and Ulasso had noticed they had brought quite a large chair for him to sit in at the Conn, he assumed in anticipation of his large size. He couldn't help but admire the Commander's potential sacrifice and put it in his memory as something he would call upon if he ever received a command position in his distant future. Ulasso: Godspeed and thank you sir. Corelli/Brodie/Kessler: Response [Begin Act II] ((Corridors, USS Thor)) Ulasso stumbled through the corridors along with his ship mates. Flashing lights leading him the way to his escape pod as he tagged behind his more experienced colleagues who he assumed had drilled this countless times. Ulasso: will there be enough room for us all in the same Pod? Corelli/Brodie/Kessler: Response They reached an escape pod and all crammed in. Ulasso had to duck his head entering the pod. The door closed shut with a "whoose". Ulasso took in the escape pod flight controls and recognized them from his academy training. He knew through chain of command he would now answer to Lt. Commander Brodie. Ulasso: Lt. Commander Brodie, I can try and pilot this pod down to a general location on the surface. Once we clear the isotopes in the atmosphere we might be able to get a better view. What are your orders? Brodie: response Ulasso: I will do my best sir. Corelli/Brodie/Kessler: Response Ensign Ulasso, (HCO) Officer USS Thor T239902U11
  12. Personal Log, Ensign Basilia… that is going to take some getting used to. To say that the past two days have been emotional would be an understatement. Yesterday was my graduation ceremony, the culmination of the past four years. It was one of the few times when the entire class had been all together, and with the addition of parents, guardians, friends and family, the auditorium was packed. Even my parents had made the trip to watch my graduation. It took all my willpower to keep my composure as I received my new pip and seeing how proud my parents looked. After the ceremony was completed my mother treated us to lunch where I had a lovely catch up with them. Sadly they were not able to stay overnight and so fighting back tears we said our goodbyes as they boarded a shuttle. This goodbye was harder than when I departed for the academy, as I don’t know when I shall see them next. I spent the rest of the evening packing my belongings, ready for my departure today. It is strange, seeing everything you own, your entire life essentially, packed into a single bag. Isabelle cast her eyes around the room, giving one final check to ensure that she had packed everything, not that she had much to pack. She had lived a relatively spartan life during her time at the academy which had made packing a swift affair. As she stepped out of the room that had been her home for the past year, Isabelle let out a faint sigh. It had not always been easy and at times she had considered giving in, but she had finally made it. She had graduated from the academy and was now an Ensign within Starfleet. Her orders had come through early yesterday, informing her that she was being assigned to the USS Thor, a Vesta class starship, that was soon to depart for the Delta Quadrant, under the command of Commodore Aron Kells. That was about as much as she knew about her new posting, at least for the moment, and Isabelle was planning on reading up as much as she could about both the Thor and the Delta Quadrant during her transit. Isabelle reached down and wrapped her fingers around the handle of her duffel bag. Isabelle was almost trampled by another graduate as she stepped out into the hall. The Bolian woman offered a passing apology as she continued along the corridor. The majority of Isabelle’s graduation class were departing the academy today resulting in a lot of frantic activity on campus. Those students that remained would have a few days reprieve before a new class started and the chaos began again. She made her way through campus to the hangar where she would begin the first part of her journey to her new assignment. The hanger was a hive of activity with at least a half a dozen shuttles positioned along the walls, with newly graduated ensigns waiting to climb the steps to their transports. Isabelle scanned the room, searching for her shuttle and hurried towards the aft of the hanger as she spotted it. After showing her pass to the attendant Isabelle climbed the steps to the waiting shuttle. Isabelle stowed her bag and walked through the type-11 shuttle. There were only a handful of passengers and Isabelle offered a brief smile as she passed them before taking an empty seat towards the rear of the shuttle. She had just settled into the seat when the deck began to vibrate, no doubt the engines being powered up, and she felt a subtle shift as the shuttle lifted off and glided out of the hangar. A few minutes later the shuttle jerked forward, pushing Isabelle into her seat. Although there was a lack of windows, Isabelle could tell that they had now left Earth’s atmosphere and were heading towards a point where they would go to warp. Isabelle turned her attention to her book. As she flipped open the worn cover she was reminded of the day her mother brought her the book. The book held many memories with Isabelle. Her mother had read this same book over and over to her daughter until she could speak to her in its words and she had memorised each word, every sentence, each line of text. Her mother had taken pride in her daughter’s ability and patience. She had been the one to teach Isabelle about the Federation. The journey to the Thor had been uneventful, with Isabelle taking the opportunity to study as much about her new assignment as she could. The Thor was an impressive ship with an equally impressive record and Isabelle was relieved to have been assigned to such a ship as her first assignment. The Delta Quadrant in particular was an interesting area of space, that even now they still knew little about. Isabelle moved seats and was now afforded a view of the Thor through the [...]pit windows as they approached. The pilot did a flyby of the Thor, allowing Isabelle the opportunity to take a good look at her new home. The Thor loomed overhead, casting a shadow over the shuttle as they approached the shuttlebay. There was a gentle thud as the shuttle touched down. Isabelle rose from her seat and smoothed down the front of her uniform, wanting to look presentable for her first impression on the Thor. She thanked the pilot who was in the process of finalising their checks, before grabbing her bag and stepping off the shuttle. She took a moment once she was on the deck of the Thor to look around at her new home. The shuttlebay was much quieter than the hangar she had departed, with a couple of crew working on a nearby shuttle. Isabelle glanced at her PADD which listed her orders and temporary room assignment. Tucking her PADD under her arm, Isabelle turned her attention to the doors to her right which led to the corridor outside of shuttlebay. Isabelle paused momentarily as she watched a young Ensign step out of a nearby shuttle. The Ensign was carrying a large metallic box, which he placed on the ground beside him. Isabelle watched as the ensign pulled out a small device and pressed a button on it, before making their own way out of the shuttlebay. Isabelle quickly followed the Ensign and entered the corridor, pausing for a second as she looked about the area. The hallway was quiet with only the occasional sounds of boots against the hard surface accompanying the silence. The corridor stretched ahead of her before ending with a set of double doors - a turbolift. Isabelle nodded her head at the young Ensign who stood slightly to her right and pushed the call button. Soon enough a door slid open revealing a lift, with the pair boarding the lift. Isabelle stared as the doors closed. A moment later the turbolift whirred to life, zipping through the interior of the Thor. When the turbolift came to a stop, it opened on a different level, Isabelle exited and headed out in the opposite direction she came in the lift. Isabelle passed a number of doors that read the names of various departments or personnel within. After what felt like an eternity of turning corners and making a number of turns Isabelle upon what she presumed was her quarters for the foreseeable future, at least. She checked the PADD once again to confirm. Basilia: Well I guess this is home. Isabelle pressed the chime, the doors to her new quarters sliding aside a moment later. Being a junior officer, a newly assigned fresh-faced Ensign at that, Isabelle had shared quarters, something that she was used to from her time at the academy. Isabelle stepped further inside, surveying her surroundings. The main room contained two sofas with a coffee table between them, a replicator on the far wall and two doors leading to the individual rooms. Although comfortable enough it lacked a certain flair, and could certainly use some more decor. She headed over to her room assignment, finding a rather spartan room, consisting of a bed, wardrobe, a small desk and a private bathroom. Basilia: It will do for now. She flung her bag onto the bed and took up a seat next to it, allowing herself to fall backwards with a dull thud. She lay there in quiet contemplation for a few moments, wondering what life on the Thor held in store. Finally, she sat upright, rubbed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. Basilia: Better unpack I guess. With that said she unzipped her duffle bag and began unpacking her belongings. The civilian clothes she had brought with her, a couple of uniforms that he would be wearing for the duration of her time aboard the Thor went into the wardrobe. Then there were the few personal items that she laid out on the desk, which he would sort out later, along with a small collection of books. Eventually, she finished and leaned back on the edge of the bed, watching the stars shine through the small window behind the desk. Basilia: Home, sweet home. Ensign Isabelle Basilia Security Officer USS Thor T239812IB4
  13. I REALLY liked the start to this sim. It was sent right at the changeover of an act, and it came across as a really fun and creative way to break up the pacing of pretty complicated scene! Nice @Ben Garcia
  14. From our very own @Ben Garcia (( Debris field, both now and before. )) In a shadow they slept, In a shadow where the radiation from the fire star crept. In a dream dark and warm, In a dream where they weren't alone. A space ribboned with the chorus of minds, A space known once as home. Bound and cribbed and boxed, no longer free to roam, Boxed and cribbed and bound, a living tomb. Snared by victory, Snared by the prey. Their victory lust carried on solar winds, Two victories imagined, two hopeful winners never conceiving of their own defeat. That was the gambit's seed, the deadly conceit, To lure, trap and digest those feeble waring egos with a telepathic deceit. The mirage of victory unleashed a battery of assault, Charges clawed and pulses tore, fired by those aboard. Then the crib, the binding box. A rigid grip spanning length and breadth, Except for a vent to gawp and mouth. Stranded in a bind, time drifted of its own accord, Ebbing and flowing between now and before. In the confusion an alignment, two paths collided, A starship was swallowed. An opportunity for unboxing, setting free, Mutual understanding would the key. MSNPC Unknown Creature, Simmed by: _____________________________ Lieutenant Commander Ben Garcia Chief Operations Officer USS Thor Author ID number: G239102MR0
  15. OOC: Beautiful. And heartbreaking. ((Vulcan Forge, Xial, Vulcan)) The wind was blowing in the desert, still cool in the early morning. It brought the fragrance of morning dew, of desert succulents and fresh spring. High above, a bright silver kestrel hailed the rising sun and, far, far away, among the hills, another bird answered its call. Alieth sat on the rock and for a few minutes just admired the bird's evolutions in the air, as the desert sands swirled at her feet. Finally, she sighed and placed the ark she had been cradling in her arms on her left. Her fingers moved over the surface to the appropriate spots and, to her mind's eye and only to her, a figure became visible on the other side of the rock. Alieth: It has been a long time, my friend. Sern perched himself on the rock, crossing one leg over the other and lacing his fingers over the top knee. Sern: Has it? I seem to recall speaking with you just the other day… The features around Alieth's eyes relaxed slightly before she spoke again. Alieth: That was weeks ago, my dear friend. Sern: Then it has been a long time, indeed. Is this-? She gave a little nod. Alieth: Where we used to meet, when you were obsessed with hover car racing. She stretched out an arm towards a watercourse a little further down, half hidden from view by a dense mass of thorny, shrubby vegetation. Alieth: You used to hide your vehicle there, so the matriarch would not send it to the junkyard. I still hide mine there. The ghost of an all-too-human smirk brightened his eyes. Sern: Ah. An apt choice. Alieth: Indeed. I have fond memories of this place. Slowly, he scanned the horizon, eyes eventually settling on a cluster of rocks off in the distance. Sern: And some not so fond... She let out a small sigh. Alieth: Effectively that happened here as well… There was no need to point out "that" event. It was in his mind as well as hers. Like so many others. Like so many memories. Thereafter, a comfortable silence settled between the Vulcans, each lost in their own recollections- some clearer than others. Either seconds or hours passed before Alieth spoke: Alieth: Are you sure you want to do this? Sern: If my choice is between this and ::he opened his hand in the direction of the device, in a manner not unlike a certain human:: that - I would say the choice is obvious. A genuine smile danced in her dark Alieth: I have no objection, everything Geoffrey John gets his hands on ends up looking like a mayhem ball affixed with way too much duct tape. Two beings of any other species would likely have laughed. It would not be a laugh of mirth, but one of two old friends diffusing the growing tension of anticipated conversation. A conversation both parties were perfectly content to leave unspoken, until they were forced to form the words by both time and circumstance... In the end, it was he who spoke, his countenance more sober than it had been so far, if that was even possible. Sern: It is time. You have brought me further than I could have hoped. But it is time. She looked at him and, for a brief second, bit the inside of her lip. She had to have one last try. Alieth: I just want to persuade you to remain here. We still have so much to experience, so much to learn, so much to live... perhaps we could... Sern shook his head. Sern: No - not 'we'... you. For a moment, he wasn't entirely sure he would win the staring contest. Alieth: :with a sight: You are right, of course… Silence settled between them once more, thickening as the minutes passed, and only the wind filled it faintly, along with the cries of the birds of the sands. At last, Alieth turned to his friend's shade, took a deep breath and spoke again. Softly, barely over the whisper of the wind. Alieth: I loved you, you know... In some way I still do. No amount of emotional discipline could hide the look of surprise that shifted across his features. A greenish flush crept into his cheeks. Sern: I - uh…. I - I loved you, too. She nodded silently, opened her mouth to say a word but ultimately chose not to. At another time, in another life, perhaps the blush would have crept up her cheeks too, but not then. Sern: Yeh- ::he cleared his throat, trying to force the flush away:: uh, yes, well… Alieth: I know. ::Sigh:: Perfect timing. She looked down at the crystal encapsulated in a mechanical device that was humming on the rock beside her. She ran her fingers over it. Not a word, he would know what was in her mind. Alieth: And speaking of time, the moment has come Sern: Now or never. She nodded faintly and took the device in her hands. Sern crossed over to a scrubby-looking bush and tried to grasp a branch. His hand passed right through it. He moved back to where Alieth stood, the ark device cradled in her hands. Sern: Could you-? Alieth: I have already did so. In her hands, the device had ceased its humming. The crystal still twinkled dimly, the energy that animated it slowly fading, with an increasingly slow pulse. There was another bit of a pause before the fade started. Much like the image of the Veritas, the edges went first, limbs and core gradually shifting away to reveal the unbroken landscape behind him. Shifting into nothingness. Once the will of her friend, of the person who had most marked her early and many of her later years, had been fulfilled, Alieth remained there for a long time. Until the sun rose at its zenith and the shadowless noon of the desert forced her to seek shelter. When she did so, there was red dust staining the hem of her robe and wetness in her eyes. But there was also peace in her spirit, a peace she had not felt for a long time. Goodbye, my dear friend, and farewell… [End] ================================= Alieth daughter of Saros Mourning USS Thor NCC-82607 E239702A10 Image Collective Facilitator /Art Director & Sern of Vulcan Deceased E239602QD0 =================================
  16. Almost every time @Anton Richards posts, I laugh out loud quite literally. ((Dark Corridor, Present, Proud Mary)) Richards: The weird symbol, the boy, the fact that every time Greaves thinks about touching his combadge we get sucked into time… I think someone besides Starfleet Command wants us to find out what happened here. Greaves: I guess the question then is who… or what. Richards: I’m not sure that I want to find out. Peri seemed at a loss for words. Greaves: What about that engineering compartment we were in? If we dig around, maybe we could find some rare particles or something that could cancel out the chroniton waves. Peri turned and offered a small smile. Katsim: That would be the antichronitons. Those are what bring us back. Of course. Anton knew that…. Richards: If we could generate our own chronitons. Maybe perhaps we could balance out the effect. We might need to scavenge some tech though. Greaves: Yeah, that too. Good thinking. If we're lucky, it's not rusted to pieces or blasted apart. Katsim: Chronitons are difficult to control, but antichronitons are more stable. Greaves: All but the most basic particle physics are a bit beyond me. Is there any reason this ship would have a store of antichronitons? Richards: Maybe something in the engineering department could help us generate a bio-temporal field? Peri glanced up and down the hallway. Katsim: We can try. Anton was just using words that he remembered from the academy. Richards: Wait.. Really? Greaves: Well in that case, it’s back to main engineering, if we can even call it that. Lietenant Katsim, lead the way. (Motioning for the woman to take the lead) Just as Anton saw Peri step forward, the room filled with a glowing bright light. It was warm, almost inviting. As Anton managed to open his eyes, he and the party were staring a figure that appeared to be composed entirely of light. Was this some form of spiritual deity? Greaves: Federation Marine Corps, halt! Well. Let’s hope not. Potentially for the best, the figure made no acknowledgement of Wes’s command and continued to glide effortlessly past Peri to Anton where it again reached toward his face before pausing. Anton had known all along he was the chosen one. His time had come. Ascension was in the midst. Anton focused deep into the figures “eyes”. He was ready to receive his blessing. What would it be though? Perhaps eternal wisdom? A meaning to life? An answer to the great question of death? The being flicked Anton on the nose and left immediately. What the heck? Anton looked back and forth between Peri and Wes. Richards: Well…? Have I transcended? Katsim: Oh Prophets! Richards: No need to refer to me as a prophet child. I was once a mortal walking amongst the paradox of time such as yourself. Wes and Peri completely ignored Anton. Greaves: I’m not so sure What I am sure of is that we’re still stuck on this rotten tug, and unless the Prophets whisk us away, we need to find some anti-chronitons. Let’s move. Anton closed his eyes and began waving his arms around. He would do it. He would use his newly obtained powers to send the party back to safety… It didn’t work, and Anton followed Wes. ------------------------------------------- Lieutenant JG Anton Richards Security Officer USS Thor T239802AR1
  17. I meant to post this a while back when it first came out, but I kept on forgetting. This is the first mission for Fargo aboard the Thor, and this is his first post in that mission. Boy does he just really NAIL introducing some plot. Plus, it's such a great Star Trek opener of mysterious particles and the unknown in space, that I had to come post it here. Good work buddy.
  18. The current Thor/Amity joint mission has generated a lot of highlights for me but I wanted to take a moment to show my appreciation for @Ikaia Wong's humor and style. This JP was his idea, went in completely unexpected directions and ended up being a real pleasure to work on. I hope this encourages folks to reach out and try writing with new people as often as you can! =================================================== ((High Containment Science Lab 4, Deck 3, USS Thor)) Geoff Teller grumbled slightly as he made his way from his office to the lab spaces on Deck 3. The visiting crew of Amity had been given run of the ship and while that hadn’t been a problem, it had mostly lead to some vaguely lost officers wandering the halls. As First Officer, he’d been primarily responsible for herding these lost sheep so when he received an alert from the High Containment Science Labs, one of the few fully restricted areas aboard ship, he assumed it was simply another officer who had gotten turned while looking for the ships spa. What he wasn’t expecting was a frantic looking medical officer tending to a large and varied collection of plants, spread across several of the lab tables in specialized bio-monitoring pods. Geoff watched in bemused silence for a few moments as the young officer, a Lt. in blue with an oversized lab coat, ran the scanner from a medical tricorder over one of the bits of flora before reviewing the readings with narrowed eyes. When Geoff realized he’d likely be standing there for hours if he didn’t say something, he cleared his throat politely and spoke up with a smile. Teller: I don’t remember authorizing a new Arboretum on this deck, Lieutenant. Ikaia nearly jumped out of his skin from hearing that voice. His hand reached up and clutched his chest as he spun around. Wong: Ah! Commander! I didn’t see you there! ::Takes a moment to breathe:: I nearly had a heart attack…. Geoff chuckled and put his hands up in a placating gesture. Teller: As you were, this isn’t exactly a formal inspection. I don’t think we’ve met...Geoff Teller, ships XO. He stepped from the doorway and offered a hand in greeting. Ikaia allowed his hand to drop from his chest as he tried to relax. He reached out to shake the ginger haired officer’s hand. Wong: I’m Lieutenant Ikaia Wong. Physician Assistant and part of the Amity crew. Nice to meet you, Commander. Teller: Ah yes, Mr. Wong...I remember your name from the manifest. You’re Amity’s incoming Chief Medical Officer, right? ::Geoff nodded to the wide assortment of plants:: Botany a hobby or are these for medical use? Ikaia put his tricorder down on the nearest counter. He had been caring for many of these plants since he was an ensign. In fact, it was a collection of plants he had inherited from a previous doctor. In many ways, he felt like he had adopted them. Wong: Ah yes. That’s correct. I’m looking forward to my new posting. As for these… ::gesturing to his plants:: …. They’re something of a practical hobby, I suppose. I’ve been caring for them for a better part of a year and in their care, I’ve also been studying them as well. With the exception of the aloe, many have their origins in The Shoals. Teller: Ah I see...quite the impressive collection in that case. ::Geoff walked over and looked at a few closely, surprised to recognize a few varieties from Ketar V and Havleys Hope:: In fact, I might want to steal a few ideas from the designs...I’m always looking for a way to grow a better coffee bean. Ikaia offered a curious head tilt. Wong: Are you into botany as well? Or coffee? You almost make it sound like you’re sourcing something for The Brew Continuum. Teller: The Brew Continuum? ::Geoff’s expression was the picture of innocent ignorance:: Never heard of it. Ikaia raised an eyebrow at him for a moment. Then a smile crosses his face. What a cheeky Commander! Wong: I know that at one point, the Brew Continuum was created by you. I can say I recognize at least your name from that. I was a regular customer back on the Veritas. Geoff found himself smiling again, thinking back to the tiny converted storage space that had grown into so much more over the years. Teller: Guilty as charged. ::Teller nodded back towards one of the pods:: Don’t think I’ve ever seen that species before...the hell is it? And why is it doing...that. Ikaia picked up a watering can and went to water one of the plants. He stopped to glance back at Teller. Wong: Be careful around that one. That’s u. Tempturvium. It may be beautiful to look at. But it’s actually about to bloom very soon. It lets off a fine mist of oils that smell very much like a rotting corpse. A sonic shower absolutely will not remove the smell from your skin and well…. The less said about what it will do to your uniform, the better. I’ve had a few incidents with it. The Klingon PA could remember the first time he encountered the Tempturvium’s oils. He got a face full of it. This would have been a horrible experience for a human. But for a Klingon, it was like entering a level of hell. Especially in getting it directly in the face. He could still smell that rancid smell for a few days following the incident. Teller: Great, a stinkbomb plant. Well, at least it’s in the right place - we can eject this whole lab compartment directly out to space if we need to. Haven’t had to do it yet but there’s always a first time. Geoff shook his head and took an extra wide step around the cylinder. Teller: What is that? Ikaia moved over to the next plant. It looked like a collection of vines curled up in a pot. Wong: This one is v. Eatoanium. It’s a fast growing carnivorous vine. I suspect that in its native environment that it would have snagged small prey items such as small birds or rodents. However, this specimen has been known to go after well…. Me. I’ve found ways of placating it, though. Geoff leaned forward just enough to catch the vines ‘attention,’ which began wriggling within the containment chamber. Teller got the impression that ‘Eatoanium’s definition of small prey definitely included him. Teller: Interesting choice of pets, Mr. Wong. I find myself glad you’re taking them as far from me as logistically possible, though. Wong: You can see why I asked for high containment lab space for these plants. Many of them have specialized care needs and probably wouldn’t have been safe to be allowed into the Arboretum where anyone could have access. Previously, I kept them in my office as it was the safest place for them and typically, I was the only one who usually used that office. Geoff snorted, remembering the close quarters aboard the Veritas and imagining this flower show jammed in it. It definitely would’ve made a visit to Sickbay a lot more interesting. He dug a small padd out and verified that the lab was properly assigned to Lt. Wong for the duration of the journey and, satisfied all was in order, prepared to leave. Teller: Absolutely appropriate, Mr. Wong. I don’t think the Commodore would appreciate having his stroll through the Arboretum disrupted by the scent of corpses. Alright, I’ll leave you to it Lieutenant - as you were. Geoff turned to leave but only made it a step before he paused. The vinelike ‘Eatoanium’ was writhing violently within its containment vessel and the whole apparatus was beginning to thrash about on the lab table. Teller: Your salad looks upset, Mr. Wong. Ikaia paused to look over the Eatoanium. He froze. A look of horror briefly crossed his face. Wong: Where’s the PADD that went with this? This plant needs that PADD. Geoff’s eyebrows went up as he took another instinctive step backwards. Already, Ikaia could see the vines shift and move. He started backing up as soon as they started slithering out of the pot. Teller: Wasn’t anything on the table when I walked in here. What do you mean the plant needs the padd? It’s just a plant….right? Almost in response the whole writing mass of vines shifted as once, tipping the containment chamber off the table and onto the floor where it shattered open with a crash. Alarms began howling and alert strobes began blinking urgently and the labs heavy isolation doors slammed into lockdown with a muted thud. They were now locked in a very thick duranium box surrounded by numerous redundant containment fields. Wong: Usually, this is placated with recordings of Picard’s speeches or 80s power jams! Something about the rhythm usually calms it down! That’s why I had the PADD with this plant! ::Turns around to see the isolation doors slam shut:: Oh that’s just perfect! It’s a plant! Not some spore or highly dangerous contagion that will invert your rib cage or fill your sinuses with incompatible fluids! Geoff worried about how unusually specific those two descriptions were but felt it wise not to press the issue at the moment. He had other, more immediate concerns. Teller: Computer, erect a level ten containme…. Geoff ducked as the vines slapped a tray full of instruments his way. When he looked back, the mass of vines had vanished, scuttling behind one of the lab tables or possibly into the equipment racks. Bits of gear clattered to the ground as the creature shifted. Ikaia put his hands on his hips as he pushed some air out of his cheeks. This has turned into a much bigger mess than usual. He went looking for a PADD. Wong: Well THAT'S new. Normally, that plant isn't entirely mobile. Teller: =/\= Teller to Larell - Chief, we’re stuck in one of the science labs with an angry plant, tell me you can beam us out of here. =/\= Geoff suspected he already knew the answer, but he had to ask. Larell: =/\= Sorry sir, you know how strict the lockdown protocol is around the labs. You’d have to bring down the isolation fields for me to get a lock and if the computer detects those have failed, it’ll automatically eject the lab. Can’t do it, sir. =/\= Already the plant had decided enough was enough as it started chucking lab equipment at Ikaia. The Klingon PA squeaked as he saw a microscope come flying towards his face. He quickly dodged that one. Wong: For the love of Kāne! You get back here this instant! ::Dodges some empty petri dishes:: Teller: Stay on it, Chief, we need some kinda way out that doesn’t involve floating home. Larell: =/\= Yes sir, I’ll give you an update as soon as we have something. =/\= Geoff sighed to himself, wondering how his day had gotten this far away from him so quickly, before shooting a scowl in the direction of the nearby Mr. Wong. Teller: So we’re locked in...we try to break out, we get ejected into space. We try to beam out, we get ejected into space. Compartment’s independent life support is only good for about...oh..four or five hours. ::Geoff leaned back against one of the lab tables as casually as he could:: I’m open to suggestions, Mister. Ikaia picked up a tray to shield his face. More petri dishes rebounded off of it. Wong: Our issue is two fold here and it's not as simple as looking for a means to escape. We need to calm down my Eatoanium first. It's likely agitated from the alarms. There's a PADD on the far counter I've been recording my work on. If we load that with the correct sounds, we might be able to soothe it. Either that or--- ::a vine now lashes out at him causing him to yelp!:: GAH! Either that or we both end up on the menu after it's done with its temper tantrum! Ikaia vaguely motioned to where the PADD he mentioned was. He knew that if they didn’t calm down his plant before their escape, there was a chance it could be released into the ship at large and this was something he did NOT want escaping the lab. Wong: The second part of our plan, the escaping part, we're going to need your PADD for the security clearance alone. I've been having a number of issues surrounding my guest clearance. Most of which surround doors and replicators. I will NEVER eat wasabi-cilantro paste out of desperation again! Geoff ducked under something that looked suspiciously like a microscope hurtling through the air and crouched low, trying to keep a few heavy solid barriers between him and the aggravated parsley. Teller: I can’t lift the lockdown until we get that thing... ::A beaker flew and shattered against a far wall:: ..back in a tube and the computer is content there’s no hazard to the ship. Wong: Right. As to what we need the PADD for ----- ::Deflects a vine with his tray:: Ugh! Let’s just get my plant to settle down and take it from there? Geoff took a quick glance over the top of the lab table and still couldn’t find any evidence of an errant padd. With a sinking suspicion he ducked back behind the table and turned his attention out the observation windows at the rear of the lab and into the connecting compartment. There, on a small worktable just on the other side of the sealed door a Padd sat perched, completely out of reach. Teller: Well, the good news is I found your padd. Geoff pointed out the nearby window and shrugged in frustration. It may as well have been on Vulcan for all the help it would be out there. Wong: This is literally the third thing I've been trapped in in about six months! ::A beat:: The good news? Why does it sound like there’s BAD news? Ikaia felt something wrap around his right foot. He screamed as it yanked him over. He fell flat on his butt and felt himself being dragged across the floor. He smacked at some other vines coming for him with his tray. It looked like Klingon was on the main menu as an entré! Geoff dove around the table and grabbed the man's labcoat, yanking backwards as hard as he could. The plant had an alarmingly firm grip. Well, Ikaia had mostly been yanked away from his plant. The vines were still firmly wrapped around Ikaia’s boots while his bare feet were free to the elements in the lab. Ikaia grabbed the counter top and stumbled back to his feet. Teller: Hold on! What did you say was on that padd again? Music and speeches?! Wong: Yes! 80s power jams and Picard’s speeches. That’s the only thing that seems to calm it down! Teller: Well library computer access was cut when the lab went into isolation mode and my singing is limited to sea shanties....how’s your accent? Wong: My accent? Well, it’s Hawaiian…. Teller: No, your french accent! Start Picard’ing, that’s an order! Wong: Oh. Riiight. Uh… ahem…. :Glancing nervously at the vines coming for him:: “Starfleet was founded upon seeking out life. To boldly go---” GAH! Ikaia ducked as one of his boots was flung back at him. Teller: No no, it’s gotta be a little more British than that for some reason! Like this…::Geoff took a deep breath and tried to draw upon the gravitas, poise and baldness of one of Starfleet’s most legendary officers.. ”“We’ve made too many compromises already. Too many retreats. They invade our space and we fall back...this far...no farther....” The creature continued to thrash about but the vines slowed slightly, but his [...]-french accent would not have won him any awards. Ikaia tried to concentrate. What did a French-British accent sound like again? Wong: Okay okay. Let me try this - “While most of us recoil in fear, we must remember that this plant, the Eatoanium, is still worthy of our care. It has demonstrated at least on some level sentience. Are we not there to seek out new life?” He could see his plant starting to calm down a little more. It was still gripping on to that other boot. Teller: It’s working! ::Geoff cleared his throat and tried again for something approaching stately gentility::...”With the first link, the chain is forged….The first speech censured, the first thought forbidden….” Teller doubted he’d win Starbase 80’s famed talent contest but the creature was loosening its grip, and Geoff was able to haul Mr. Wong backwards towards relative safety, but not before another projectile headed their way. It flung the last boot. It rebounded off of Ikaia’s head. He yelped as it smacked him. He was getting really tired of being hit with things. Wong: Ow! GEEZ! Ugh….“That is one of the tenants that Starfleet was founded upon. We are Starfleet. It is our duty to ensure that this plant is well cared for as long as it is under our protection. It is not to be ejected into space like refuse.” Geoff put aside his personal feelings in this moment of deep crisis and called upon the powers of Earl Grey himself. Teller: “The first duty of every starfleet officer is to the truth! Whether it's scientific truth, or...uh”…::Geoff’s memory was failing him so he improvised.::....to space truth...or...ground..truth... The plant was starting to come down off the shelving. Ikaia crouched down low and started making his way closer. Wong: Ah… it’s working….. It’s calming down…. Ah “Part of seeking out new life is also the care and protection of that new life. That’s what we must do. This is not a compromise.” Geoff tried to lower his voice towards a register he hoped was soothing as he slowly lifted an unbroken containment canister. Teller: “So I lied...cheated….bribed men to cover the crimes of other men….”...wait, dammit, that’s not a Picard speech. ::Geoff took another small step towards the creature and nodded to Mr. Wong.:: “There’s coffee in that neb…” dammit that’s not right either. Ikaia calmly approached his plant. The vines were already starting to curl back up into its pot. He carefully picked it up in his hands. Wong: ::Whispering:: Are you ready to seal it up? We’ve got it back into dormancy. With the vines as docile as he’d seen them, Geoff crossed the final meter and scooped the vines into the canister and sealed it in one quick motion. It wasn’t until after he’d gotten it fully back on the lab table and behind a level five containment field that both men exhaled and slumped to the floor, Geoff’s back against one of the tumbled equipment racks. After a few deep breaths, Geoff laughed out loud at the absurdity of the last few minutes until his eyes were watering. When he could catch his breath again, he wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes and tapped his com badge. Ikaia was more than thrilled to see his plant safely tucked behind glass. He rested his back against a counter as he seemingly sprawled across the floor. Ikaia snorted. The ludicrousness of it all! But at least everyone including the plant was safe. Wong: ::Sighs:: That’s a relief….. Maybe now we can lift the lockdown? Teller: =/\= Computer, lift isolation lockdown on containment lab 4, Authorization Teller Sigma Kilo Alpha Nebula Tango Sigma. =/\= Computer: =/\= Unable to comply, internal sensors detect a possible contagion which matches established viral profiles. =/\= Geoff gulped, his good humor forgotten. He looked around nearby and found several tricorders scattered in the debris on the floor. He flipped one to Wong and began scanning the area the vines had been writhing around. Ikaia blinked at what the computer had said. Sure, he often worked around the sick. But that wasn’t without decontamination afterwards. He took the tricorder in his hands and began looking. Teller: Were you storing anything else in here? Biomatter? Research samples? Especially pungent cheese? Wong: There shouldn’t be. I always decontam whenever I deal with the sick. There shouldn’t be anything here. Teller: Tricorder’s picking up nothing over here...air reads fine....no particulate matter...no radiation...certainly nothing that looks like a virus….you got anything? Ikaia was about to get up when his hands brushed against his thigh. It stung when he touched it. Bringing his hand up to his face, he could see a pink liquid coating his fingers. Blood. His blood. He glanced down at his thigh and sure enough, he could see where it had been sliced. Possibly from the glass when the Eatoanium escaped. Wong: I think some of the glass got me. My thigh’s been slashed by something. I’m going to need a dermal regenerator here to fix it. Geoff swung around in alarm at the shrieking tricorder. Teller: Stay still, try not to move. It could be on your uniform...we could still decontaminate it… Ikaia froze. He looked at Teller. Wong: Wait. On me? Geoff narrowed the scan field on his tricorder and took a few steps back towards Mr. Wong, following the increasingly rapid beeps from the scanner. When he was within a meter, he slowly panned the device down, starting with Mr. Wongs head. Teller: I’m no medical officer, Mr. Wong, but I’m picking up something tricorder thinks is a retrovirus…. Ikaia’s eyes went wide. It was as if Teller had said something that had triggered a memory for him…. ((Flashback - Russell River Mines - Approximately Six Months Earlier…..)) S’Ten: What do you know of Drell? That question came as a surprise to him. His hand slowly reached up to touch his hair. Since he started experiencing new cultures and other planets on his travels with Starfleet, that name has come up over and over again. Mostly in response to his blond hair. Some days, he was half tempted to dye it just to keep a lower profile if he knew he was dealing with other Klingons. Wong: House of Drell. I’ve heard of it. Mostly through it being shouted at me with plenty of finger pointing. But I really don’t know much about it. Except for that blond hair seems to be a house trait. Although, I’m not sure if I’m connected to that house or not. I absolutely know nothing. What do you know about this? S’Ten: I see. I can only tell you what I know from my briefings on Romulus. It was important to understand the workings of Great Houses, while they are an Empire there are always disputes between their houses, which is something that can be exploited during a conflict. Membership of a Great house has traditionally been by virtue of birth, or marriage. But the House of Drell was different. You are aware of the Klingon augment virus? Wong: Bits and pieces about it from what’s been mentioned in Starfleet databases. Victims impacted by it lost their head crests. S’Ten: The first Klingon that was born with blond hair was a result of this virus. Over time, Klingons with your hair color were born throughout the population, but only a handful. Word of them spread, and they became shunned like other augments. As a joke, Klingons said that blond Klingons were of “jul”¸ the Klingon word for “sun”. Klingons also found it amusing to claim that any Klingon born of jul were of the same family. One blonde Klingon was so incensed by being teased constantly that she formed a house named “Drell”, a play on the word jul. She declared that any blond Klingon was instantly a member of Drell, should they choose to be. Wong: Did all those impacted join this house? S’Ten: Many blond Klingons joined, proudly. Conversely, many sought genetic modification. And some… were sent from the Empire by their parents to live elsewhere. Ikaia frowned slightly. The gene pool expanded significantly and even if he got a hit in his search using DNA, it didn’t mean that it would be someone from this house. His investigation has just hit its first snag. ((High Containment Science Lab 4, Deck 3, USS Thor - Present day….)) Ikaia scanned himself and began cross referencing his DNA with the RNA of the Augment Virus on file. Sure enough, the virus had been embedded in his DNA. It was less than a 5% fragment of the original virus. But it was still there. He briefly reached up to touch his blond hair for a moment. Ikaia’s breath seemed to be caught inside his chest. Time almost felt like it had stopped for him. This was a major revelation. The reason for his hair colour, for who he was came down to a virus fragment. He looked at Teller wide eyed. He had been quiet in his realization for the longest time. At that moment, he finally broke his silence. Wong: Commander….. That virus you’re picking up isn’t on me. It’s a part of me. Geoff’s attention turned away from the baffled tricorder and towards the bewildered looking Mr. Wong. Teller: That’s...that’s somewhat alarming. I’m alarmed. I feel like you should be more alarmed. The lab is certainly alarmed. Wong: I have less than a 5% fragment of the Klingon Augment Virus embedded in my DNA. It’s what’s causing the blond hair and I suspect what triggered the lockdown when I got cut by the glass. It was never my plant. It was me the entire time. Geoff flipped the tricorder closed and scowled but focused on the immediate problem and located the compartment's medical kit, one of the few things that hadn’t been tossed around. Teller: Pretty basic but there’s a dermal regenerator in here along with some broad spectrum antivirals... Wong: I’m not contagious nor am I sick. It’s a virus fragment. But it’s certainly enough to trigger the lockdown of the labs. I’m sorry, Commander. Which meant that now the labs had to be keyed into his DNA just to avoid future lockdowns pending their survival from this lockdown. Teller: Well, it’s not really me you need to apologize to, it’s the sensors in here. Patch yourself up and try not to bleed on anything else. We’re going to need to decontaminate every surface you’ve touched or brushed against and…::Geoff shook his head, wondering how he’d explain this to the Commodore.::...lose the pants. Gonna have to vaporize those. oOExcuse me. Who’s the medical officer around here---- wait. Is he REALLY suggesting THAT?! That’s EXTREME.Oo Wong: You’re asking me to depants myself and BURN them?! Am I hearing this correctly? Teller: Look, I’m not the one who [...]ed off the computer, so I get to keep my pants…. A single drop of pinkish blood, accidentally smeared across the back of Mr. Wong’s tricorder dangled and fell before either man could react. Geoff could only watch in horror as it landed with a small splat on the right leg of his uniform pants. Ikaia gave something of a coy head tilt. Wong: Hmm yes. I seem to recall something to the effect of vaporizing one’s pants if they’re contaminated with my blood? Ikaia started to remove his pants. This was quite embarrassing. Almost as much as the tattoo on his backside. Teller: Welp...yep, ok, now we’re going to be two totally normal officers not wearing pants, cleaning a lab. ::Geoff sighed and began sifting through equipment on one of the nearby racks.:: Find yourself a subsonic sterilizer and get to work once that leg is patched up. Wong: Don’t worry, Commander. I very much understand sterilization procedures and medical care. Pretty sure that’s why I’m the Amity’s CMO. ::Sighs:: This is really embarrassing. We’re really going to have to key in my DNA into things to avoid generating false positives in the future. He finally removed his pants entirely and folded them up on the floor leaving him in his standard issue Starfleet boxers. He cleaned off his hands and grabbed the dermal regenerator to run across his wound. The whole incident had him stressed out, if he had to be honest with himself. It wasn’t just that he’d have to make the long walk to his quarters without any pants. It was what he had just learned here today. It was entirely possible with the virus fragment in his DNA that he was a member of the House of Drell. But given how Klingons handled matters like this, there was still a chance he may not be. Either way, this was a heavy result for him. It made him somewhat terrified of what the entire truth was going to be. Wong: Sorry about the mess….. It was the better part of an hour before the two men, fully stripped down to their starfleet standard issue skivies, emerged from a lab the computer now considered entirely free of pathogens. Both men made a dash for the nearby turbolift in an attempt to forestall questions or curious glances and they were entirely successful, except for Lt. Kowalski, who valiantly managed to restrain their laughter inside the turbolift car until Geoff stepped out, but broke before the doors could close again. [End] ======================================== Lieutenant Ikaia Wong PA-C Chief Medical Officer Amity Outpost V239711IW0 & Commander Geoffrey Teller Executive Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 Commodore A. Kells, Commanding V239509GT0
  19. OOC: I really enjoyed this insight into one of our newer members. Good job @Kammus Corelli! (USS Nashira, Main Engineering, Deck 6) Kammus stood in the chief engineers’ office, as music https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AOoe8K1yj50 played, and filled the air with a somber reminder of the mission. 27 PADDs were stacked in different piles on the desk, and Kammus watched the damage control teams, system engineers, and repair personnel work diligently on the problems caused by pushing the Nashira beyond all limits. Finn popped his head in, leaning more than walking, as if to signify he was busy, but wanted a quick word. Finn: What is that noise…? Corelli: Es Ist Vollbracht. It is finished. Bach. Finn: I’m more of an Orion Thrash Punk kind of guy. Corelli: Something I can help you with? Finn: Just to report, console repairs have been completed, Paket is having issues with some of the plasma conduits on deck 2. We’ll get it soon enough. Corelli: Copy, carry on. After a time of thinking, he moved to the turbolift, and traveled down to Deck 8 surveying the repair of the antimatter containment systems. From a nearby window, he saw Starbase 375 grow ever larger, as the ship dropped out of warp, and align for docking. Jadin Wills approached; she had been placed in charge of the final antimatter systems adjustments. Wills: All under control here, sir. Secondary antimatter containment pod will need replaced, scheduled for 4 days maintenance. We’ll be on dock power so it’s a good thing we’ve got shore leave coming up! Right? We do have leave? Corelli: Yes, you have leave. I will remain on board. Wills: You’re not taking leave? Surely you want to get off this oversized shuttle? Corelli: (Raising eyebrows) Let us not speak ill of our assignments. Wills: Sorry sir, I’ll get back to work. Kammus returned to his quarters just as the ship docked with the station. The room lights dimmed as internal power was switched to external support and the docking gangway tunnels extended. He unzipped his uniform top, took a deep breath, and relaxed for a moment. Presently his desk display chimed and he ran over, pushed the button, only to see Aiya’s face, bright and cheerful. Corelli: You're not dirty? Did you skip work? Aiya: Hey, Parrises Squares, 10 minutes, we entered a tournament! Corelli: We you, or we me? Aiya: You can come watch and cheer me on! Corelli: Cheer? Kammus contorted his body, raising one hand above his head, and placing the other on his hips, mocking. Aiya: I hate you. You don’t have any other friends! What are you gonna do? Sulk by the warp core? Corelli: The warp core doesn’t try to take my clothes off just because I’m Deltan every moment of the day. Aiya: Oh… (beat), probably best if you don’t go into a room full of a hundred strangers. Corelli: Might turn into another type of tournament! ::They both laugh:: I will be fine, plenty of work here to do, and someone has to supervise the repairs. Aiya: You’re not the chief engineer. Corelli: They don’t have a chief engineer! Aiya: Fine. BYEeeeee! The channel closed, and Kammus was once again left alone with his thoughts. He mashed the button on the display. //Personal Log, Stardate 239809.2 The Nashira performed well. We pushed these systems well beyond their specified design limit. I will have to re-write some of them. The crew is an interesting group, I will have to be less technical around some of them, which is a shame. We have put in at Starbase 375 for repairs, and since the ship currently has no chief engineer, I have elected to remain on board and supervise, in whatever capacity I can. I am certain Starfleet Command will assign a more senior engineer to oversee the repair work. I dread venturing onto the station, all those people, they can’t help but be affected by my biology, which I cannot turn off. Perhaps it would be better to be an android… I hope the crew enjoy their leave. I for one await reassignment, as this ship, while I enjoy it very much, will likely not be a permanent home. I wonder if an ensign can request to have NCO’s assigned… I sure would like to have Aiya with me, whatever the next adventure is. //end log He returned to the window and awaited the arrival of refit teams from the station. _____________________________________________ Ensign Kammus Corelli Engineering Officer USS Nashira Writer ID: T239807KC3
  20. OOC: @Geoffrey Teller must be loosing it. He's naming plasma eddies. 😄 ((Bridge, Deck 1, USS Thor - Two Hours and Nine Minutes Later)) Hunching forward in the Captain's seat Geoff Teller's eye was twitching again. He'd been staring at the viewscreen for so long now he'd practically named every random band of colorful energy currently encircling the ship as he tried to tease detail from the images the vastly more sophisticated and accurate sensors somehow missed. Harold, a large shimmering column of plasma and radiation, was currently gyrating just slightly off the port bow and Fernando, that small pink rascal, was drifting diagonally across his field of view. At several points Geoff had been reasonably convinced they were mocking him, intentionally shielding the Nashira from their view in a form of subspace pettiness known only to an unfortunate few. With a hand that was vibrating slightly from either too little or too much caffeine, Geoff Teller tapped at the controls and resumed recording an overdue ships log. //Ships Log, Supplemental, Stardate 239808.19, Cmdr. Geoffrey Teller reporting. ...The Thor has been effectively navigating the storms edge for the last several hours and while the ride has by no means been comfortable, our shields have held strong and we are in position to spring our little trap on the Nashira. As this exercise was intended to evaluate crew performance in non-ideal conditions, I must take a moment to offer commendations for Lt. Jg. Reid and Lt. Jg. Richards, both of whom have performed their duties with the professionalism and creativity of officers with far more experience. I'm also quickly coming to respect the abilities of our new Engineering officer Ensign Rocheford. While I'm certain the next few hours will be a test for ship and crew I'm extremely confident in both. I'm certain we'll honor the Thor's proud legacy. And I'm going to get that damn lawn dart if it's the last thing I god da....wait is this still transcribing.... //End Log The ship jolted slightly as another plasma front shifted and grazed their shields. Teller shook his head in mock frustration at Gertrude, who was being pushy yet again. A few minor warning indicators appeared on the status display to his left and Geoff decided to break the heavy silence. Teller: Status report? How're the shields holding up, Lt. Richards? Richards: Response Geoff smiled and turned in his chair. Teller: Excellent, let me know if it becomes a problem. Lt. Reid, how's the storm? Dissipating along your projected curve? Richards/Reid: Response Both officers had been largely unknown to him prior to this last mission and now Geoff was confident they were both capable and reliable colleagues, more than fit for the task at hand. It renewed his confidence in their plan of action and their hopes for success. Teller: Understood, update the helm if you think we need to move to a new position but keep an eye on those sensors. The minute we can get a peak outside the storm I want to know. Reid: Response Teller: Very well. Ensign Rocheford, what's the status of the EPS grid and the impulse engines? If we detect the Nashira has taken the bait I want to move in as quickly as possible. Rocheford: Response Teller: That's correct. Our hope is that the Nashira mistakes our disguised fighter for the weapons platform they've been trying to make off with. If they grab the fighter in a tractor beam that'll be our signal to pop out and hit them with everything we've got. If they're disabled they can't make it out of the system, and we win. Rocheford: Responses Geoff found himself regarding the young engineer with something like sentimental fondness. He'd been in that young mans position once, tossed into a dynamic situation and forced to push himself far beyond what he thought was capable. He hoped Mr. Rocheford enjoyed the experience as much. Teller: Don't worry Mr. Rocheford, the weapon hits are simulated but the computer will make the damage 'seem' real, down to the overloading eps conduits and the disabled systems. With any luck we'll get their engines in our opening salvo and it'll be over in the first few seconds. Rocheford: Response Geoff smiled and turned his attention back to the viewscreen. Several of his new friends, like Lloyd, Fredrick and Harriet, were beginning to dissipate visibly and Teller could swear he saw faint snatches of clear space beyond. Their moment was rapidly approaching. Teller: Lt. Reid, is that what I think it is? Rocheford/Richards/Reid: Response Tags/TBC! =============================== Commander Geoffrey Teller Executive Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 Commodore A. Kells, Commanding V239509GT0
  21. I'm honored that I was able to participate in such a special moment for my CO, @Tony, aka Kells, and that I could help be part of what made it special for him! To all our guests you have our sincerest thanks for participating! =========================================================== (( Main Arboretum, Deck 5, USS Thor )) In his dress whites for the first time in a long while, Geoff felt an odd bit of nervousness creeping in around the edges of his fairly manic last minute planning. The guests were due to arrive at any moment and represented friends, mentors, colleagues and some of the upper echelons of modern Starfleet. It would be the largest single function the Thor had hosted and, thankfully, it wasn’t even Teller’s court martial. Fleet Captain Aron Kells, his CO and friend, was about to step into the truly rarefied air of the Starfleet and all these fine people were arriving to celebrate and witness the moment. Teller: Commodore Kells...rolls off the tongue. Very nautical. I like it. Talik: Sir, are you talking to me? A nearby petty officer was arranging trays of food on a nearby table, designed to mix in with the ambient foliage and rolling green grasses of their small slice of nature. Geoff realized as he listened to the rushing of the nearby waterfall that he hadn’t spent nearly as much time in this room as he should’ve over the last year. It was a profoundly soothing space, most especially here under the wide boughs and thick leaves of the central tree. The air handling systems had been designed to emulate a planetary weather pattern and Geoff found the occasional hint of breeze rippling in the treetop tremendously calming. Talik:....sir? Geoff took a deep breath, smiled, and put aside his small reverie. Teller: I wasn’t, Mr. Talik, but your opinion is welcome, and speak freely. Think the Fleet Captain’s new title suits him? The petty officer placed the tray down and considered his response for a moment before speaking. Talik: Well, honestly...sir...it’s a little...embarrassing to say but… Geoff's eyes crinkled into a confused squint. Talik:...well it’s just...Co’mo’dr is the archfiend of the afterlife on Denobula...I grew up there and I guess the name...stuck in my head. Geoff snorted, rolling the unfamiliar pronunciation around, entirely amused. Teller: I’ll make sure to pass that along to Starfleet Command. Can’t have the higher ups getting called devils behind their backs. ::Geoff lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper:: Not when they don’t deserve it, anyway. Geoff winked to the young crewman and relaxed a hair as the large double doors to the arboretum opened. Their first guests were arriving. Teller: Various sirs, ma’ams, honored non-specifics ::Teller was babbling. Apparently that ninth cup of coffee had been one too many.:: Welcome everyone, welcome. Please, make yourselves comfortable while the rest of our guests arrive. We’ll be getting started in just a few minutes. The Constitution was on shore leave; fairly extended shore leave due to the slight issue of not being entirely in one piece, the most notable issue being the missing warp nacelle. Which meant that, after a trip to Vulcan, to detour via Cardassian space on the way back to the Marchlands in the galactic south. Saveron had never really anticipated stepping foot on the Thor, but this was the second time within a relatively short space of time. Dressed in the robe variant of Starfleet dress whites, the Vulcan Commander paused to regard the expansive greenery afforded by the Arboretum, before his grey gaze fell on one of the few familiar faces. Approaching, he raised one hand in the ta’al, the traditional splay-fingered Vulcan greeting. Saveron: Commander Teller. It is agreeable to be in your presence again, and observe that you appear to be well. Given that the last - and first - time they’d met was so that Saveron could help extract the katric remains of Alieth’s long-dead lover from Geoff’s brain before he went completely mad, the fact that the Thor’s FO appeared to be suitably functional was eminently acceptable. Teller: Commander Saveron! I’m glad you were able to make the trip again, I never really got to thank you for the whole ::Geoff artistically pantomimed removing a ghost from one's head via the ear:: well, anyway...I owe you one. Geoff extended his hand in the ta’al but his smirk was far from stoic. Teller: That’s a Good Job Guarantee. Buried somewhere in his uniform jacket Geoff’s padd chirped with an incoming message. With a smile and a wave, Geoff watched Commander Saveron join the rest of the party as he dug out the padd and discovered a message for their guest of honor. // To: Commodore Aron Kells, Commanding Officer, USS Thor NCC-82607 From: Lieutenant Commander Chythar Skyfire, Medical Officer, USS Chin'toka NCC-97187 Subject: Congratulations & Invitation Hey, Kells. It's good to see you excelling in the fleet and I wish I'd be able to present a kilo of our Chin'toka-branded Nip of Winter in person, but with all of the planning for my wedding going on I am not exactly Mr. Free Time. I have arranged for said kilo of coffee to be delivered to you. By the by, if you aren't doing anything in October, I was wondering if you'd be interested in popping over to the Chin'toka for my wedding to Lael. I so rarely do social things in the public's eye, but here's a recording for you to enjoy of the proposal. And man, let me tell you keeping her in the dark that long was hard. Miss you, buddy. Fair winds. Fair winds and following seas, commodore. Regards, CD // Geoff smiled as he pocketed the padd, glad his first CMO was happy and well aboard the Chin’toka. He’d make sure the soon to be minted Commodore saw the message after the ceremony. Compared to normal space the Shoals was like mashed potatoes compared to - well, normal space. Thick and gluggy, and hard to navigate through. When Lieutenant Commander Wil Ukinix of the USS Veritas had received an invite to the celebration of Fleet Captain Kell’s promotion to Commodore, he couldn’t resist. So he’d made his way to the Thor despite knowing how slow the initial journey from the Shoals would be. Kells had been marooned on a tropical moon along with Wil and the rest of the Veritas crew, and Wil had personally escorted his ex-crewmate, good mate and continental neighbour Nic del Vedova back to Fleet Captain Kells so that they could be re-united. But there was another good mate that he had to see personally first. And, thankfully, that person hadn’t seen him yet... And once that person was lined up (and in keeping with what was becoming tradition), Wil ran at full speed in a straight line, and then crash tackled Geoffrey Teller to the ground. Geoff had made the small tactical error of turning his back to the door, concentrating instead on a plate of surprisingly delicious confections from some planet he’d never heard of. His moment of distraction and gluttony was all that his best friend needed to stealthily approach and tackle him to the ground. Geoff didn’t even bother looking up before speaking. Teller: ::wheezing:: G’day knackers! Ukinix: CHIEF! Teller: I thought I told our Marines to keep this crowd respectable. Panting, Wil stood up and offered his hand to Teller to help him up. Geoff smiled warmly as he was dragged to his feet and into a firm embrace. As soon as the Thor’s FO was on his feet, he wrapped his arms around Teller’s shoulders. Ukinix: How’s it going, ya’ bugger! It’s good to see you. Teller: Good to see you too, Chief. Or do you prefer your majesty these days? Wil Ukinix, Second Nephew of the 47th house, heir to the ancient creaky chair of Ithric? Not totally surprised by Geoff's teasing of Wil's potential pending Betazoid nobility, the Human/Betazoid hybrid gave Geoffrey a gentle but effective smack on the back of the little man's head, before looking around the room. Ukinix: ::Cheeky smile:: Is Kell’s Del around? Geoff looked around the arboretum which was filling nicely as the hour approached. Chatting amicably near a small crowd was the guest of honor himself and his husband, Doctor Niccolo Del Vedova, their acting chief of medicine. del Vedova: He’s right here! And he’s his own man! So to say, as he fairly charged Wil and wrapped him in an embrace, and only after that was broken did he reveal the man of the hour (difficult though he was to hide behind the shorter Del): Aron himself. Kells: Hello, Wil, Geoff. Geoff, thanks for this, truly. Aron looked around at all the familiar faces and beamed as he took them all in. Her arms crossed, and uniform collar extended to reach her chin, Commander Blake tilted her head down toward Captain Roshanara Rahman next to her. Blake: I think Wil’s trying to hog everyone to himself. Rahman: I suppose I can’t blame him... Ukinix: ::Turning to Blake and Rahman:: Isn't it exciting! Geoff’s smile widened to nearly goofy proportions at the sudden reunion of friends from the Veritas. It was the first time he’d seen all these people in the same place since he transferred more than a year ago. Teller: Commander Blake...Skipper. It’s been too long. A warm smile donned Blake’s face as she relaxed her stance. Blake: It’s good to see you again. I’m glad we could make our way out of the Shoals to be here. Rahman: Indeed. Roshanara smiled as she looked back at Teller, and then her gaze turned towards Del. Kells: (with a grin) I’m glad you could as well, especially since my last trip out there did not go according to plan. del Vedova: Aw, but at least we still spent some time together. That, Aron thought, was the understatement of the century: Limbo, as the Veritas crew had nicknamed the moon, operated outside of the time experienced by the surrounding space. What had seemed like hours from a removed orbit had been experienced as months by the shipwrecked crew. Naturally, though, Roshanara waved off the memory of that extended planetary stay with a more important question. Rahman: Are you two still an item? Aron considered answering with a kiss, but Roshanara also would remember his habit of a friendly kiss for any of his crew who received a promotion or an award. It would not answer her question. Del, however, beamed and embraced Aron for a moment. del Vedova: Space husbands! Rahman: ::shaking head:: Naturally. The Kriosian captain of the USS Veritas then looked to the man whom she’d first served under as chief engineer before he had brought her back to active service as his first officer for the Invicta Expedition. Rahman: No matter what, sir, you’ll always be Captain Kells to me. Del interrupted Aron’s search for a reply that matched how heartfelt Roshanara had been with a smack in the shins from his cane. Certainly he knew that Aron was in danger of tearing up. del Vedova: And never mind him, you’ll be Rosh to me. As Addison entered the arboretum, she smoothed the front of her dress whites when her eyes fell upon a group of colleagues very dear to her who’d already arrived. She’d normally have been there earlier, but she took the opportunity to take a quick tour of the ship. It was in much better shape than the last time she’d been aboard - leading the majority of the non-essential personnel off the ship in shuttlecraft during an emergency was a memory that wouldn’t soon leave her. Grabbing a flute of champagne, she approached the group of distinguished guests and former colleagues. MacKenzie: Teller isn’t causing trouble, is he? I mean, aside from his usual… Captain Rahman, always good to see you. Rahman: Likewise. I hear you’re doing good things on the Resolution. MacKenzie: ::gesturing to Blake and del Vedova:: And the two of you are looking good - the last time I saw each of you, you were patients of mine. Del exchanged a look with Blake, then shrugged at Addison. del Vedova: We got better. MacKenzie: ::resisting the urge to smirk at Ukinix:: Trouble’s junior colleague. ::winking:: How’ve you been my friend? Ukinix: ::mock offense:: Hey! I'd at least be Trouble's first officer by now. ::Offering hug:: It's so good to see you again Addison, I've missed you. With pleasantries exchanged, she approached Kells and offered a hug. MacKenzie: The man of the hour! I can’t think of a more CO. Congratulations, Commodore. Kells: Thank you, Addison! And all of you. I can’t tell you how much it means that you were all able to make it. Nor had everyone arrived yet, as the group in the arboretum continued to grow, most recently with an officer Aron had first met when he’d been assigned as an ensign, and who was now a captain of his own ship. Mei’konda: Speakiing of congratulations…hello, everyone. And congratulations, soon-to-no-longer-be Captaain Kells. Aron had last seen Mei’konda at his wedding to another of Aron’s former officers, Evan Delano, and he hugged Mei’konda as well. Kells: Captain! It’s so good to see you. It’s been too long, too long since I’ve seen any of you. Mei’konda returned the hug, despite just a moment of hesitation. There was a time, not so long ago, where he stiffened up like a board when Aron Kells’ eyes fell upon him. But this was a special occasion. Mei’konda: Indeed! It’s like a family reuniion, isn’t it? The Caitian approached the gathering of senior officers, dressed in the carefully tailored dress whites that inadvertently emphasized his lean, muscular build. With negotiations for the Federation’s new colony site successfully concluded in the Expanse, the Chin’toka had moved back close to Federation space in order to prepare to escort the shipments, and it had given Mei’konda the time to take a brief shore leave out to the Thor in order to attend a very special occasion. Since his own promotion to Captain, this might’ve been the most brass he’d ever been in the presence of, but he found it interesting that he didn’t feel uncomfortable in the slightest. These officers - some of whom had been his direct superiors during his own early days in Starfleet - were now his peers. He aimed a reserved nod toward the Admiral lurking at the edges of the room, and a slight smile toward Teller and Saveron, as well. He and the Vulcan had had their disagreements years ago, but he liked to think they’d buried the hatchet. Mei’konda: Commander Teller. Commander Saveron. A pleasuure to see you both again. Teller: Captain Mei’konda! This is fantastic...I haven’t seen you since..hmmm...since I got my [...] bitten off by some voles at your Captaincy promotion! I can promise you - none aboard this ship. Mei’konda quirked a slight smile over at the red headed Commander. Mei’konda: If it was goiing to happen to anyone, Mr. Teller, it would happen to you. Geoff laughed good naturedly as he fought to urge to scratch his suddenly itchy backside. Teller: I’ll take that as a compliment. Commander Saveron, do you know Captain Mei’konda Delano of the Chin’Toka? Kells: He sure does! (glancing around) Almost half of the Invicta’s senior staff is here. They were missing a few faces — Alora DeVeau, Quinn Reynolds, Evan Delano, Hanar Tuk — but Geoff had promised Aron that most of them would be there, and it was an impressive guest list no matter what. Flicking his tail upward to curl it around one of his ankles, the Caitian folded one hand behind his back and held the cup of cinnamon tea he’d replicated in the other, lifting it to his lips to take a careful sip. There were unfamiliar faces here as well, some he didn’t know at all, and some he knew only by reputation. Mei’konda: On that note, my husband sends his regaard, Captain Kells. He’s on assignment, commanding the Diligent just outside of the Par’tha Expanse. A moment later, he added to those he hadn’t yet greeted. Mei’konda: Captain Mei’konda Delano, USS Chin’toka. A pleasuure to meet all of you. The rest of my crew sends their regards. She had slipped in among the other guests, pausing in the doorway, partly to admire the beauty of the surroundings. Arboretums were one of her favourite places to visit aboard ships, and she was pleased that the ceremony would take place in the Thor’s. It was well cultivated, a wide variety of plants growing in clusters according to soil and environmental needs. Alora paused at one such cluster, inhaling the scent of the blossoms, their sweetness energizing and almost addictive. From that spot, she had paused, her eyes shifting from person to person. There were quite a few people gathered, not surprising considering Aron’s long history with the fleet. She had known him from the beginning of her own career - he had been her first captain. And yet the man she came to celebrate that day was not the same man she had met when she had come aboard the Mercury. That had been someone different, but when the real Aron Kells had shown up, when so many people had doubted, when suspicions had been raised, she could only think about how hard it must be. He had proven to be as kind as she knew he would be, and the two had forged a friendship that had turned into something of a kinship. Even when he had left Starfleet briefly, they had remained in touch - rather necessarily thanks to their mutual investment. Had it only been eight years? It felt like she’d known him almost her entire life - and she certainly couldn’t imagine a future without him in it somehow. There were others she’d known for just as long and when her eyes settled upon them, her expression brightened into her characteristic smile. Faces so familiar, and dear to her, though in a different way, mingled together. It had only been two years since she’d seen some of them - though it seemed like it had been far longer. Taking one last whiff of the flowers, Alora finally turned and aimed for the cluster of bodies, the gathering of people with whom she had, at one point in time, served with. DeVeau: Man, I’m getting hit hard with some déjà vu. Wil turned to look to see Alora, and froze. They had communicated via dreamscape only weeks earlier. He checked his hand to see if it had the right amount of fingers, ensuring he wasn’t dreaming lucidly again. He then looked again at Alora. Ukinix: ::Blinking eyes:: So am I. DeVeau: I almost feel like I’m back on the Veritas. Or the Invicta. She’d followed a couple from one ship to another. Some had been left behind while others had remained. After her classified assignment, she’d suddenly been placed on Starbase 118 and had only known one person there - thankfully, a friendly one. Now, faced with the ghosts of the past, she couldn’t stop the nostalgia from rolling over her. DeVeau: How are you? Each of you? Kells: (another grin) Persisting and thriving, I’d say. And all here, most importantly! Teller: Hale and hearty, Alora, just like that violet you gave me. Further back, a solitary figure lingered around the edges of the gathering crowds, watching the reunion of old friends. Clad in a pristine dress uniform, Rear Admiral's pips marking her rank, the scrawny, freckled hybrid kept her distance, not wanting to intrude. The only one Quinn Reynolds truly knew was Rahman—and while their interactions weren't the frosty poles of Andoria they'd once been, it was still awkward enough she thought it best to stay away. She didn't want her arrival to ruin the moment. That, and underneath it all, Quinn was still the chronically shy woman who'd fled from almost every party as an ensign. Instead, she contented herself with a stroll through the arboretum while the guests continued to arrive. The sex botanist delighted in the flora on offer; admiring the brilliant rainbow of colours in vibrant blossoms, breathing in the heady scents of exotic blooms, running her fingers across velvet petals and furred leaves. The professional engineer wondered how feasible it was to pilfer the arboretum design for the Gorkon, and whether it was an abuse of power to reconfigure the ship to have a nice garden. A very nice garden. She spared a smile and a nod for Saveron as they moved through the crowds, pleased to see him again. Perhaps later they'd have a chance to catch up, and she could let him know Amelia was thriving. But for now, her attention was drawn by another; the man she was here for, finally alone... at least for a few minutes. Reynolds: It barely seems like two minutes ago we were evacuating refugees from Romulus. ::She chuckled.:: If you'd told me then HQ would pin this much brass on either of us, I'd have laughed you off the ship. Aron was very happy to find himself alone for a moment with Quinn — Admiral Reynolds, now. He’d followed her career, of course, but it had been many long years since they’d served together, since he’d relied upon her counsel as the director of intelligence. She’d had a storied and successful career since she launched the Gorkon, but like Roshanara and Mei’konda, and equally like the officers there who weren’t (yet!) captains, he both relished their success and missed the good advice and endless assistance that had allowed them to progress in their careers. Kells: (with feeling) I’d have helped you! No doubt. She grinned at him, struck with both awe and a sense of ridiculousness at their situation and status. A pair of flag officers who’d caused no end of trouble and headaches for Starfleet HQ back in the day, helping the Romulans when the rest of the Federation had forsworn them. Many of those refugees still lived on Vulcan to this day, a community counted in the tens of thousands, thriving and seeding the beginnings of reconciliation. Reynolds: Valesha sends her congratulations, by the way. ::The Romulan scientist had been one of those refugees, and both Quinn and Aron had taken a special interest in her career.:: She's doing well. Kells: I’ve heard! Lieutenant already? I’m glad she’s done so well, and that she’s been with you for most of her career. Not that she needs one of us to keep an eye on her, but — you know. However, whatever else they might have said was truncated, as Geoff had obviously noticed Aron’s absence from the main group, and called for everyone to be seated. With the guests assembled the attention returned to Geoff, who nodded respectfully to his CO and then to Admiral Reynolds as he approached the small podium placed directly in front of the great tree. It seemed to Geoff a worthy backdrop for this rare, special ceremony. He waited patiently at the podium, not bothering to raise his voice and within moments, the room grew hushed on its own accord with a shared sense of anticipation. When the silence was complete, Geoff spoke in clipped, clear tones that carried across the room. Teller: Attention to Orders, Please. Attention to Orders. Fleet Captain Aron Kells, please step forward sir. Aron did so, with aplomb. Or as much aplomb as he thought he could handle, given the circumstances. Kells: Here and ready, Geoff. Teller: Thank you, sir. Rear Admiral Quinn Reynolds, would you step forward please ma..::Geoff barely caught himself in time.::...would you step forward please. Kells: (muttering) Good save. With an arched eyebrow and the hint of a smirk cast in the direction of both men, the Admiral stepped up to the podium as requested. Heart thrumming in her chest, she smiled through a deep breath. Over the years, she had learnt to keep the timorous tremor out of her voice, still the anxious fidgeting that wanted to erupt when dozens of eyes were upon her. But she was here for Aron, and the desire to honour and celebrate her friend made it easier to bury the nerves. Reynolds: I'd like to first thank you all for coming. There are a lot of familiar faces here, and I know how pleased Aron is to see you all. It speaks to how many lives he's touched, and how important he is to so many. Geoff stepped aside and retrieved the small decorative box which seemed unusually heavy in his hand. From here on out the attention of the entire room fixated on the two people standing front and center. Reynolds: Those of you who know me are already well aware that I loathe public speaking. For those of you who don't; it takes a very special event, or a very special person, to lure me to the front of a crowd. Today fulfils both requirements. As Quinn began to speak, Aron found that Del’s earlier save with Roshanara had been for naught, as he started to tear up anyway. He broke his gaze away from her and gazed out at his friends, but that was even worse. The people gathered in the arboretum represented decades upon decades of memories and experiences, and if he was looking for an escape, they were not it. Not that he was looking for an escape. It was just — after all he’d been through recently, from Calabrum and the Zet to nearly dying on New Bajor, he wasn’t sure if he’d thought a moment like this — not even the promotion, but where he was able to gather with so many of his friends — would ever happen again. Even by Caitian standards, the room had grown quiet but for Admiral Reynolds and the ever present subtle rush of a starship’s life support systems functioning around them. Mei’konda kept his ears angled toward the two standing together as Kells’ only superior officer in the room continued speaking, and Mei’konda stood silently with his fellow officers. It was one of those rare occasions that he’d come to savor in Starfleet - as much reward as he felt when he was able to promote or offer commendations to his own officers, there was something particularly special about being invited to witness one of his old Captains being recognized like this. Reynolds: I first served with Aron over ten years ago. He was a science officer under my command on the Drake, and we had a few... interesting adventures together. ::She grinned at him for a moment, a shared joke twinkling in her hazel eyes, and then continued.:: He was one of the finest scientists I've served with, and I valued his keen insight, quick wits and his ability to keep a clear head under pressure. They had shared just about every professional dynamic there was in Starfleet: subordinate, superior and peer. It had forged a respect and understanding few shared, and though—or perhaps because—there had been some bumps along the way, Aron’s friendship was one she treasured. Distance made it harder, but her fondness had not diminished with time. Reynolds: It was a few years later, when I served under his command aboard the Mercury—and later, the Garuda—when we became friends, and someone I still trust to this day to offer me sage advice when I need it. As well as my friend, he's been my teacher; I strive to emulate his diplomatic finesse in all situations, and his ability to cut to the heart of a problem. It is my firm belief he is one of the most exceptional officers in Starfleet, and I'm beyond honoured and pleased to be here today to recognise his ability, his compassion, his loyalty, and his dedication to all those he serves with. Quinn looked expectantly toward the red-haired Commander. Geoff lowered his voice and leaned in, waggling the Commodores pips. He couldn’t hold back a small smirk. Teller: Last chance to change your mind and pin these on me, Admiral. Reynolds: You shouldn't play with fire, Commander. ::Her eyebrows twitched upward as she responded just as quietly.:: You might get burned. Geoff stifled a laugh and opened the small box, profferring its contents to the Admiral, and she turned back toward Kells with pips in hand. For Teller, the challenge of the day had instantly been made worthwhile when he saw the look of profound gratitude and deep joy on his CO’s normally reserved face. Reynolds: Fleet Captain Aron Kells, it is my privilege to promote you to the rank of Commodore, with all the associated rights and responsibilities. ::Then, more softly,:: You’ve done us all proud, Aron. Kells: (quietly) Thank you. (more loudly) Truly, thank you. I can’t fully express how much it means to have you all here. And then came the moment. Quinn had the single-gold-pip-on-black of the commodore ready to go, and the moment itself — the pinning — was over in a moment. His new insignia gleaming under the arboretum lights, she dropped her hands onto his shoulders. Then, with an impish smile, she copied his favourite trick and rose up onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to the new commodore’s cheek. Reynolds: Congratulations, Commodore Kells. Teller: Three cheers for Commodore Kells! HipHip! The quiet of the Arboretum was broken by the thunder of applause and the shouts of hurrah ringing from the walls. But then the applause. Oh, the applause! This time, Aron tried to return the room to its former quiet, and he locked eyes with everyone there as he gazed around. Kells: Without each of you, I wouldn’t be here. That you’re here to celebrate the continuation of what I love to do — it means so much. Maybe it’s inadequate to keep saying so, but: thank you. Teller: My sincerest thanks to all of our visiting guests, you’ll be receiving complimentary gift bags on your way back to the shuttlebay or transporter pads. Officers and Crew of the Thor...please assemble front and center. The Commodore isn’t the only one we’re celebrating today! Mei’konda couldn’t help a subtle flattening of his ears, this time. There was such noise, and his ears were sensitive. But he participated nonetheless, the broad smile on his short muzzle exposing his sharp teeth while he clapped in turn with the others. Later, he’d share time with the others, perhaps take a brief tour of the Thor considering that he’d never been aboard a Vesta class ship before, and catch a shuttle back to the Chin’toka late in the evening. Mei’konda: Congratulations, everyone - and thaank you for the invitation! Responses: ? END! =================================== Commodore Aron Kells Commanding Officer USS Thor V238208LV0 he/him/his (character & player) & Commander Geoffrey Teller Executive Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 Commodore A. Kells, Commanding V239509GT0 with special guests (in order of appearance) Commander Saveron First Officer USS Constitution-B R238802S10 Lieutenant Commander Chythar Skyfire, MD Medical Officer / Barista USS Chin’toka NCC-97187 O239002CS0 Lieutenant Commander Wil Ukinix Chief Engineer, Second Officer USS Veritas V239511WU0 Cmdr Sky Blake Executive Officer USS Veritas C238803SB0 Captain Roshanara Rahman Commanding Officer, USS Veritas I238705TZ0 Commander Addison MacKenzie, M.D., Ph.D., FASFS First Officer USS Resolution V239601AM0 Captain Mei’konda Delano Commanding Officer USS Chin’toka, NCC-97187 M239002M10 Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau First Officer Starbase 118 Ops alora@blar.net M239008AD0 Rear Admiral Quinn Reynolds Commanding Officer USS Gorkon T238401QR0
  22. Really great work @ElandraDAR and @Geoffrey Teller. This JP turned out AWESOME. Love the back and forth, and the slow build up. I'm so interested to what's coming next!!!
  23. OOC: I was posting specific quotes and I just kept laughing, so decided to post the whole thing. IC: ((Holosuite, Deck 5, USS Thor)) Katsim: What is this? Fred: It’s our base. Come on, move. Richards: I do like what you guys have done with the place! Ted: Until we can verify who you are, you really need to keep moving…. Sir? The man gave Peri a little prod, not painful, but enough to indicate that he wasn’t kidding and so the woman continued marching forward. Under the watchful gaze of their captors, she and Richards were herded toward one of the buildings and inside. More soldiers were there, most in armour, a few people out of armour, but in clothing of the same hue and with the same insignia as the armour. Around a large table, a mixed group stood, talking, though it stopped as soon as one soldier looked up and saw the prisoners, and he brought them to the attention of the rest of the group. The tallest of them, his head shaven, turned and glared down at the newcomers. Frank: Did you two boneheads ever come to think that when I said “Don’t let anyone into the base”, that bringing two people into the base might be a bad idea? Commander Frank looked his two guards up and down, as well as Anton and Peri. Fred: We thought so, but… Ted: Sir… he said. Anton could see these poor guys were struggling, and after the whole guns to the head and pokes to the back, Anton wasn’t going to let this end just quite yet. So he waited a half dozen long seconds, While Ted and Fred scrambled for words. Just when he was pretty sure Fred was going to pass out, Anton stepped in. Richards: Commander Sir. We have never met formally. Captain Cool Guy, Sir. Saviour of the galaxy and what have you. We don’t really have time for formalities here. Something bad has happened. I was on my mission from Admiral Peacebringer Sir, when… Just then, Commander Frank shushed Anton. Peri glanced nervously over at Richards, then at the commander, who continued to peer down at them, his eyes narrowing. Anton held his ground firmly, in this universe, Anton believed he outranked Commander Frank. Frank: And who was this that you’ve brought with you. Anton looked up towards Katsim, he knew what she was going to say. He preemptively let out a sigh. Katsim: Peri. Richards: Commander... what Ms. Peri means to say is, “Supreme Commander Peri Protector of Good Things”. I gave her a field promotion when she was forced to play a crucial role in negotiations with a Splurge Commander. Ted: You see Sir? We didn’t know what to do. Frank: I see… ::glancing at Ted and Fred:: and where did you pick up, our supposed leaders of peace? Fred: We just found them in the forest, wandering around. Another glance was cast toward Richards, but Peri dared to speak up. Katsim: We were trying to keep away from Commander...Splurge. Richards: You really should tighten up your defenses here, I have reason to believe there could be more of them around here. Ted: You see Sir? And then he says stuff like this, which makes me n’ Fred wonder. That’s why we brought him back. Sir. Frank: I’m quite surprised that you would make such an accurate observation Captain, considering we are on the Splurge homeworld. I’d imagine you are correct! He looked over Anton and Peri suspiciously once more. Splurge homeworld? Anton thought to himself. That’s when he remembered what his friend had told him when suggesting the program. “Anton Man, Trust Me! Once you see the Splurge City over the horizon. You’ll understand why this is such a great program! Just as Anton looked towards Peri, a voice cut through his thoughts like a knife, bringing him back into reality. Captain Versa: Commander! What’s going on here? The tension suddenly grew amongst the group, Commander Frank, Ted, and Fred were all standing at attention. Anton turned to see a tall woman, tanned skin offset by sharp, hazel eyes. Her hair was pulled back into a severe bun, and like the others, she wore armour, her helmet tucked into her arm. She was gorgeous, Anton thought, and just before the entire situation became a story about how Anton fell in love with a holodeck character. Her voice cut through Anton’s thoughts again. The three stood and saluted attentively. Captain Versa: At ease! Frank: Ma’am. We have a situation. Versa eyed the group up and down before her eyes, locked in on Anton. Her hazel eyes were glistening through… wait… are those tears? Then they were gone, and a strong firm look proceeded over the three. Captain Versa: Commander, you are dismissed. Be sure to debrief your men, as you know this is classified at Peace Saviour Level 5. Frank: But Ma’am. I think you should know that they… Versa cut Frank off, this was good, because Anton wasn’t sure how he was going to explain himself. Captain Versa: Now! Frank/Ted/Fred: ::Comically in unison:: Yes. Ma’am! Captain Versa: Come with me. She nodded towards Anton. She turned and began walking into the direction of what appeared to be a large modular command centre located at the back most portion of the base. As Peri and Anton proceeded to follow, she stopped once more and turned around. Now what Anton was perceiving in her eyes, was not sadness, or anything that would result in tears. What Anton saw was… Blatant jealousy. She looked towards Peri sharply. Captain Versa: And who might this tag along be? She glanced at Peri. Anton was a bit confused. He hadn’t progressed in the program enough to know who Versa was, but Anton knew that he was definitely supposed to know. Katsim/Versa: Response? Richards: She has been crucial in my survival and in the mission against the Splurge. Katsim/Versa: Response [[Tags! & TBC]] __________ Ensign Anton Richards Security Officer USS Thor T239802AR1
  24. OOC: This made me chuckle. IC: ((CMO's Office, Main Sickbay, Deck 10, USS Thor)) Hoping to save some of his precious time, Wes stood in front of Lieutenant Alieth’s desk, hoping against hope that she would help him out. Greaves: Hey Doc, hope you're not busy. I was looking for a favor. The woman's face remained expressionless, but somehow acquired a more relaxed air. Alieth: No, in fact, it is a remarkably quiet day. How can I be of service? Wes slid a padd out of his uniform pocket and slid it across Alieth's desk. Greaves: I won't lie, I'm not here for a social call. I'm swamped with work and I need my annual medical signed off. Can you hook me up and clear me for duty? The Marine watched as Alieth glanced at the padd, then at the marine, then back at the padd, and once again at her friend. Her brow furrowed anew, dangerously so. Largely because there was a taunting glint behind the sullen expression. Alieth: Absolutely not a chance. You are going to get the mandatory physical. Point. By. Point. oO Ah, so we’re doing it the hard way Oo Wes dropped into a chair in front of the woman’s desk and frowned at her. Greaves: Alieth, come on. I’m swamped with work, I don’t have time. Besides, you basically just did an exam after my shuttle… incident. Tell you what, we can work something out. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. The Vulcan folded her arms across her chest and radiated an energy that would make most men taller than her cringe. Alieth: I will not accept bribes this time Wesley, you have skipped so much Vulcan scolding lately, Come on, take off your jacket. For a moment Wes considered arguing, but he knew his friend. This was a lost battle, and it wasn’t a hill he needed to die on. If anything, cooperation would speed things along. Then again, a little begruding acceptance wouldn’t hurt. Greaves: Fine, fine, but let’s make this quick. Just wave a tricorder over me or something and call it good. Alieth: Come on Wesley, stop being so shy, I have stirred the inner part of your ribcage, I think few people can say the same. With an exaggerated huff more characteristic of an angry 12 year old, Wes stood and began unbuttoning his uniform top with extreme prejudice. Greaves: Alright doc, have it your way, but I’m going to remember this next time you need a favor from us. Just know, if you ask me to pee in a cup, I’m spilling it. Now what do you want me to do? Alieth: Response He tossed his uniform jacket onto the desk, nearly causing one of the two small towers of padds to wobble. For a second it looked like it might topple, but eventually the wobbling settled and Wes shot his friend a mischievous glance. Greaves: Well you should know my medical history better than I do by now. I basically don’t remember the last time I was here… you know, head trauma and all that. Aleith: Response Greaves: I mean, I’ve got all the usuals. My back aches, my ears ring, my knees hurt, I seem to roll my ankle at least once a week… You know, normal stuff. Is there something in particular you’re asking about? Alieth: Response TAG/TBC ========================= Captain (SFMC) Wes Greaves Marine Detachment Commander Chief of Security & Tactical USS Thor - NCC 82607 E239702WG0 =========================
  25. Ladies, gentlemen, people of neutral or other genders, meet Mr. @Geoffrey Teller and his unique ability to turn something mundane into something fun and a true genius. ((XO's office, Deck 1, USS Thor)) Unnecessarily straightening his uniform for the seventh time in as many minutes, Geoff Teller shifted in his chair and watched as the chrono counted down. He hadn't been looking forward to this call and even though the smorgasbord of brass were all safely on the other side of a screen, Geoff still felt their looming shadows like they were in the office with him. Teller gulped the remainder of his cup of coffee and looked towards the carafe parked on his desk, already half-empty. Starfleet Command was still digesting their most recent mission reports and unsurprisingly, they had more than a few questions about how matters were handled. It was a formality for the most part triggered automatically when Fleet Captain Kells mentioned the Prime Directive in his mission report but it still rankled Geoff slightly that his judgement, and that of his CO, was being dissected from afar. Still, he'd gotten to his office early, prepared his mission notes thoroughly and legibly and he'd even polished his pips. In his experience, Admirals appreciated a bit of extra spit & polish. The last few seconds ticked off and the display on his wall monitor was replaced briefly by that Starfleet Command. Geoff sat up, prepared for at least three admirals and their various aides, but after a minute all he continued to see was the Starfleet Command logo, spinning in place. Teller: The hell... Vansen: =/\= ....an you hear me now? =/\= One third of Geoff's screen was replaced with the shaky image of a Lt. Cmdr. in Engineering gold. Teller: =/\= Uh...hello? =/\= Vansen: =/\= Oh finally, the Admiral is going to kill me if he misses any more calls today. Damn..on.s.orm.re..ly..fou....p....tran..iver =/\= The image degraded before freezing and being replaced with a test pattern. Geoff snorted a laugh but felt a pang of empathy for the poor engineer that was about to give bad news to an Admiral about their subspace transceiver. He wondered if that meant the meeting was going to be rescheduled when the right third of his monitor came alive with the image of a particularly stoic and wizened looking Vulcan Rear Admiral. Any smirk on Geoff's features was immediately erased as his spine stiffened. The Admiral pinned him with a frosty gaze and began speaking. T'mpok: =/\=...........=/\= Geoff's brows furrowed in confusion. He could see the Admiral's mouth moving, so Geoff was certain the man was saying...something. Geoff found himself nodding along at what he thought were appropriate moments but he could find no break or pause in which to politely tell the Admiral that his audio pickups had been disabled. T'mpok: =/\=...........=/\= It felt like an eternity but the Admiral paused and Geoff interjected as best he could. Teller: =/\= Sir this is Cmdr. Teller...I'm not sure if you can hear me or not, but I haven't been receiving your audio...I can see you just fine though..sir...I recommend running a level 3 diagnostic of your...=/\= The Admiral's image suddenly winked out and Geoff was left with his mouth hanging open, wondering what he'd done (recently) to earn the favor of the subspace gods. A few moments later a brief text message from the Admiral's office came through stating that the Admiral had only recently received a new communications unit and was still, in their words, 'getting used to it.' Geoff could hear an aides deep exasperation written large between every letter. He responded and offered to reschedule as the center of his screen came to life. Roth: =/\= Cmdr. ::bark:: Teller? This ::bark:: is Cmdr. ::bark:: Shelby Roth in ::bark bark:: Admiral Otyl's office...I ::bark:: apologize for ::bark:: MISCHA NO! MISCHA DOWN! :whimper, scratching sound:: Don't you dare!...Go, go...go find your bobo... =/\= Geoff watched this unexpected animal psychology lecture with rapt fascination. His only regret at the moment was not having a snack of some type on hand. The Commanders image was briefly replaced with an empty chair and Geoff could hear the distinct swish of doors opening and closing in the background. Roth: =/\= Sorry about that, Commander. The Admiral's prized Alfa-177 can be a real handful when things aren't just so. ::Muted bark:: To that end, the Admiral is behind ::Muted bark:: schedule...he was supposed to be here to get his ::Muted bark:: dog three hours ago. I'm reaching out to let you know we're rescheduling this debriefing and we'll forward you ::Muted bark:: a new set of subspace ::Muted bark:: frequency details. =/\= Off camera there was the sound of something heavy crashing to the ground, the excited yapping of a completely uninvolved dog, and a colorful string of expletives from Commander Roth, several of which Geoff would have to look up. The screen winked out and the three panels merged, replaced again with the stately logo of Starfleet Command, under which Geoff was surprised to see a small query prompt. Teller: Well I guess the call quality was pretty good... Geoff tapped five several times, hit submit and poured himself another cup of coffee, relaxing in his office chair and reveling in his unexpected free time. [End] =============================== Commander Geoffrey Teller Executive Officer USS Thor - NCC 82607 Commodore A. Kells, Commanding V239509GT0
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