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Found 9 results

  1. Okay, I know I just put quotes from this in the littler appreciations forum, but I keep re-reading this because it makes me laugh and wanting to think there were many pieces of gold I could have also put. So I might as well put the whole sim here, haha! @Kettick has a sense of humor that just speaks to me. There's not a single time where Kettick's humor hasn't hit me at least a little. It's excellent. --- ((Main Engineering, Deck 15, USS Juneau)) Dekas: ::to Sera:: Alright I’m starting to think it’s better we go see nurse Pelley or whoever’s working in the sickbay sooner than later. Nothing permanently unfixable aside from maybe that specific replicator. I don’t fully understand how the acid didn’t burn right through it, to begin with, but I’m not going to follow that line of thinking yet. The more important thing is we don’t end up like the replicator, no? Sera: Yes, Ensign Dekas. I would prefer not to be disassembled after producing a corrosive vegetable. A very sensible goal in life, and one with which Kettick entirely agreed. Dekas: ::to Kettick now:: Hopefully you figure out if this is the error of a person or some sort of terrible malfunction of technology. If not, we’ll likely be back to help sort it out in a short enough amount of time. I can help write the report about the, ah, pickle and its effects once we’re back. As can Sera. And if it is a person’s mistake? I know some good words to use to really bring the point home that this was not great and someone needs a talking to if they’re going to try this type of thing. Kettick nodded in silent assent at the departing duo. Words were not his forte, and apparently, reaching an acceptable level of tongue-lashing involved him being stripped of his body and thrown into a telepathy-run alien simulation. Better leave this kind of task to someone more at ease with flamboyance. Now, the maintenance logs... :: Some time after. :: The rubber duck had been retrieved from the industrial accident of a replicator, and placed on a nearby workbench. From time to time, a spindly, chitinous finger prodded it, making it wobble and eliciting a somewhat indignant "quack". The logs were... illuminating. Apparently whoever had worked on this replicator last, one crewman 3rd class Lee R. Jenkins, had encountered an issue with corrupted software, and decided to rewrite the missing parts of the code instead of resetting it to factory parameters and going through all the necessary patches from the ground up. The resulting logs reminded Kettick of some fiction he had read, presented as the journal of someone who had discovered a tome of eldritch knowledge and narrated its study, the writing reflecting their slow descent towards madness. Kettick had managed to listen to the logs past the point where the crewman started singing nursery rhymes ("One hundred little errors in the code, one hundred little errors... Take one down, patch it around, One hundred seventeen errors in the code."), but had not made it further than the part where the poor soul started giggling. And, Queens preserve him, he had looked into the fruit of the poor crewman's work. Which had looked like the digital love-child of a one-night stand between Escher and Dali after a three-day absinthe bender at Lovecraft's. Being himself, he had not blanched or screamed, but he had very deliberately shut down the interface, formatted the replicator, and put an electromagnet to the remains before decontaminating the lot with plasma. And as far as he was considered, it was not overkill, but *mercy*. Shuddering a little, he decided to call it a night, closed the sessions on the various consoles, waved absently to the next shift, and made his way back to his quarters. Only there did he realize that he had put the duck in his pocket for whatever reason. END -- Ensign Kettick Engineering Officer USS Juneau G239107LR0
  2. I enjoyed the "emotional beer talk" and the growth in Falt's character with regards to the Oralians. @Tomas Falt
  3. @John Kendrick Taking bets now on how this will end. lol Jon, you're such a great sport playing along with my antics. Bye bye, T'Lea!
  4. @Arys Powerful. Deep topic here. Well crafted.
  5. @Vitor S. Silveira and @Arys Good character building from both of you. Love the snark, and hints of caring, but not caring. We all know your characters secretly like each other. ========
  6. This was a creative way for @Arys and @TLea to push and pull on a character in order to explore an inner conflict. Nicely done! ((Holodeck 1, Deck 4)) The year was 900 AD, Earth, Northern Europe. The wind was cold and harsh. It cut through the tall pine trees that surrounded their small settlement, and its howls mixed with those of the wolves in the forest. The night sky was fascinating. The stars visible from Earth were not impressive, but the blue, green, and purple ripples that illuminated it right now surely were. Aurora Borealis, it was called. Their followers, Viking warriors, were sure this was a sign that the gods favored them. Two women stood by a large fireplace, dressed in period-appropriate clothing, and armed. They were at war for months, or in their case for an hour or two. No one would have thought to find Arys and T’Lea in something like this. A tall, handsome, bearded man made his way to T’Lea, kneeling once he had approached. Viking “Björn”: My queen! We have found the traitor! He confessed to having betrayed you. What is your verdict? The traitor had given their position away to the ‘enemy’. The traitor however was also T’Lea’s lover. Trovek: I say we execute him. Even if he was your lover. His love seemed insufficient. Arys.. enjoyed this far too much. She had convinced T’Lea to a battle scenario, where the two of them were the shield-maidens Freydis and Lagertha respectively. It wasn’t that terribly historically accurate, but the Nordic clothing and housing created a believable atmosphere. The cold was brutal, almost as gruesome as the battle they’d fought. The Romu-vulc had been more than a little surprised to find out that the seemingly mild-mannered Counselor had a fiery warrior’s spirit within her. But then she was half Bajoran and half Human. Both species were emotional, passionate and well-rounded fighters. Still, to hear the Counselor recommend death for anyone was… well, again T’Lea was surprised. Stood by the fire, T’Lea opened the sides of her cloak to allow the heat to circulate inside the long woolen garment for a moment before wrapping it back up. She glanced at Arys dressed beautifully in the colors and style of the period. There was a fur border around T’Lea’s hooded cloak that obscured her peripheral vision, but the extra warmth was needed to ward off the cold. It was a bone-chilling cold that no Vulcan could tolerate for long. Two hours were long. T’Lea: You speak of his death with great ease. Is there nothing of his life to consider? Betrayal was no stranger to T’Lea. She’d been both the betrayer and the betrayed. She’d done some horrible things to people in her past. Her first bondmate for example, Dragus, was something she regretted now. She secretly carried a great shame for his demise. No, it was not a ‘demise’ that was too soft of a word. It was murder. She had set it up his murder to seize his power. But the betrayal on her mind right now was her mother’s. It hurt. More than she cared to scrutinize. This whole scenario was starting to feel a little too familiar. Trovek: Well of course there is. And I have made those considerations before I made the recommendation. Arys didn’t seem to mind the cold at all, or at least not as much as T’Lea did. She kept her hood off, and let the wind play with her hair. She almost looked like she had always been part of this holosuite. T’Lea: Don’t you believe in redemption? That a person can change for the better? Now maybe she was talking about herself. She wasn’t the power hungry, blood thirsty villain that she used to be, but to this day she still fought those cravings. Trovek: I …. learned that a lot of times that is wishful thinking. I mean people definitely can, but the benefit of the doubt can only go that far. How likely is it that he will change? That suddenly his loyalties will truly shift towards you? Short answer. None. The hologram was programmed to be a traitor, nothing more nothing less. But like Arys said real people were different. Could Dal Selta be redeemed like T’Lea, (even though she considered herself to be a work in-progress)? Hadn’t her mother at one point redeemed herself through her work with SFI? It certainly seemed that way, until the Dal corrupted her again. Then came an even scarier thought. Was T’Lea corruptible? Was the Dal corrupting T’Lea’s thoughts with revenge and murder? That was a minefield of questions that she was carefully tiptoeing around. T’Lea: He is a traitor no doubt, and he has occasioned the deaths of our people. There should be a heavy price to pay. Is it death? Her very words to Oddas after returning from shore leave had been, “I’ve been there. I’ve done evil things and I wish someone had put me down back then.” But if someone had killed her, then she never would have had the chance to change, to have a family, to do good. Nor would she have the chance to possibly kill again – and she did want Dal Selta dead. Arys had made this mistake so often, and one of her biggest fears was that she would make it again and again. That she never really learned. Her mother had a way of making her doubt her doubts and knew how to make use of her daughter’s subconscious desire for motherly love and affection. Trovek: The way I see it is that if we remove him, despite his ability to change, we lost one good man. If we let him betray us again we could lose ten. So that is prevention. But what about punishment? There was betrayal, people died because of him. Do we go home to their families and tell them we decided to forgive the man who caused their death because he said he is sorry? It wasn’t a mistake he made, it was a choice. I can forgive mistakes. I can’t forgive... - … he seduced Lagertha in order to betray her. You. You don’t get to plan something for weeks or months and then be sorry. Arys looked up at the night sky. She usually loved this holosuite, she usually visited this one or a variation of it. It was a little different to bring someone else into her personal space like this - it felt strange and uncomfortable, it made her feel vulnerable. She was stuck between enjoying the company and wanting to be alone. T’Lea: I have a feeling that he is very much not sorry. Save for the fact that he was unsuccessful in deposing me. It was kind of how she felt about her little shore leave escapade. However, she did have conflicting thoughts about not involving Oddas, because it certainly could have been the key to ending the threat completely. Lesson learned. She pushed the hood off her head and glanced from Arys to Björn. Her bright blue eyes had a way of turning dark along with her thoughts. She had a roll to play in this program and unfortunately, it was easy to portray. T’Lea: Bind him and bring him before those he has betrayed this night. The families of the fallen should not have to suffer him any longer. Let the people wield their justice upon him, and let the gods judge him thereafter. Words that at one time may have been said to her. A troubling afterthought. Björn: At once my Queen. He bowed and turned for the huge wooden and bronze door -- the weight of which was evident in the sluggish way it moved as it closed. T’Lea glanced at Arys and lifted an eyebrow. By the woman’s informed answers to her inquiries, there was a possibility that the Bajoran had some personal experiences of her own to draw her conclusions. Which made her all the more interesting to T’Lea, and perhaps slightly more trustworthy. T’Lea: Let’s not keep the people waiting. She started for the door and glanced at her side as Arys joined her. She was hoping that the conversation may put her mind at ease and her thoughts on the right path, but it really only made her question her intentions toward Dal Selta more. Perhaps that was a good thing. Only time would tell. Reaching the door she pulled the large bronze ring and the hinges squeaked open. T’Lea gave Arys a sideways look. T’Lea: This time period is strangely appealing. I suppose I’m a sucker for men with scruffy facial hair. Arys smirked as she glanced at T’Lea. Trovek: Well, I knew you were a little strange. END Ensign Trovek Arys Counselor USS Juneau J239809TA4 & Lieutenant Commander T’Lea First Officer USS Juneau Author ID I238301T10
  7. Good character torture here. Wow. Well done! @John Kendrick
  8. Yes! This was great R'Kala! We finally get a glimpse of this beautiful Klingon's past. I love it!
  9. World building and scene building. So important. Sil you did a great job doing both to kick off this mission. I enjoyed the tension created by the situation and between characters. Nice work! === ((Ring, Unknown biodome, Away team main camp)) OOC: I haven't described the city deliberately, leaving it for anyone who wants to add details. I know I might have over-described the NPC's but I couldn't resist IC: Torlek frown, again. He looked around the temporary base set at the entrance of the abandoned city. They had set up a small temporary base near their beam in point. They were supposed to survey the surroundings. Torlek insisted they beamed enough resources to sustain the large away team of eighteen, for at least five days in the field. They started well, set up shop quickly, beginning to explore the city in groups of four or three. There were some difficulties, some areas looked shielded, others interfered with their scans. Communication with the Grace wasn’t stable. Still they managed to make some progress, signaling the buildings they entered and taking notes the old fashion way, by writing in PADDs their observations. Everything looked normal. That is usually when things go wrong. First they noticed Wyss and her team didn’t report in. As the hours passed and contact wasn’t made Torlek sent three teams in search of them. To no avail. He always found the redhead engineer quite the character, but she was also a fine officer and not one who would derelict her duty. But it was by the next day when he decided to send a larger detachment that things turned weird. Torlek lead the team, leaving only four of his team in camp, they tried to track the movements of the missing crew. As they embroiled themselves on the streets it was clear this was an almost worthless effort. The only sound was theirs, and they barely managed to clear a block of buildings. There was no sign of their missing shipmates. The matter worsened when they met at the designated checkpoint. Six more were missing. Torlek recalled the rest and returned to base camp. They now had lost half the away team. Nine crewmen were missing. And there he stood. Less than 30 hours since their arrival. He started walking to reach the crouched man, who was working on an improvised comm station. He put his hand on his shoulder. Smith: Take a break Mr. Clarkson. The Ensign looked up at him, but returned to work. Three tricorders were jury rigged to a PADD. They were trying to improvise a signal booster. Clarkson: Just a minute more Sir. Torlek squeezed his hand just slightly, just enough for Clarkson to know he was serious. Smith: I won't say it again. The man turned, his eyes darting red. As he stood, all the near two meters of height, he rose slowly like a wave. The Ensign was one of the engineers, but really didn't look the part. Torlek always wondered if he was able to crawl into a Jefferies tube with that size. The Ensign faced him in the eyes. Torlek stood his ground as he saw the man’s eyes water. Clarkson flitched first, as tears began to form and he wasn’t able to control one that streaked down his cheek. Torlek kept his gaze fixed at him, in a neutral tone he spoke again. Smith: Ask Doc for something to sleep, pass your work to Hammond and get in your tent. I don’t want to see you here in the next four hours. Now that is an order. Clarkson, composing himself, nodded. Clarkson: Understood Commander. Torlek let Clarkson walk a few steps in the direction of their camp, before walking to Hammond. Smith: I told Clarkson to get some rest, take his place if you please. The little Lieutenant nodded. Hammond: Yes sir, shall I try and hail the ship? Torlek shook his head. It's been hours since their last contact. Smith: Keep the channel open, but don't bother trying for now. I am sure the Captain is calling in the cavalry. Hammond nodded and turned, heading to the work bench. May was at eye reach, he nodded to Torlek, and so he stepped closer to him. Smith: Anything? May shook his head. With the phaser rifle resting in his arms, the security Ensign almost whispered his reply. May: Not a goddamn thing. No movement, no noise… Nothing. Torlek raised his hands and waved to the camp. Smith: Give me the rifle, I will take watch now. Get some rest and keep an eye on Clarkson, I don't want him to go and do something stupid. May handed the rifle and shook his head. May: That's why I don't agree with romance between crewmates. Stig, Clarkson's companion, was one of the missing. He was one of the quietest officers on the Grace. Torlek wasn't even sure if he ever talked to him. Torlek shrugged, he didn't see any trouble in relationships. Smith: No man is an island. Relationships are the cornerstone of society. May tapped Torlek's shoulder before moving on. May: Always the diplomat Commander. Torlek smiled at him, with a final nod, pointing at the camp. Smith: One tries. Now go and get some rest. No TAG/TBC Lt Cmd. Torlek Smith First Officer USS Grace Hopper as simmed by: Lt. J. G. Vitor S.Silveira Tactical Officer USS Juneau, NX-99801 O238907VS0
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