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Wandering Whispers of Astraeus' Stars


Serala

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Humor is always a great thing in a sim and @Serala definitely killed it with this one. 🤣 

 

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Kelv: I’m Tellarite, engineering is part of my culture, try and keep up. ::She wiggled her nose slightly:: People aren’t much different than starships. Doctors ::She gestured to Snow:: fix and patch up their components. The epidermis is just a person’s hull. Heart, lungs, brain. Warp core, environmental controls, and computer. ::She extended a finger each time and tapped it with her index finger of the opposite hand as she counted:: A person’s mental state is just their programming, their software. And if the hardware gets damaged enough, sooner or later you’re going to get some corrupted software. Let it go too long and that can cause problems with the hardware. That’s why I became a counselor. People need someone to keep them stable and running efficiently mentally, as much as they need a doctor to keep their body in top shape. 

Snow: I guess that’s a unique way of seeing a person. 

Isa: I should say so. Starships can be replaced. People can’t. But I get your point. :: smirking :: Just don’t ask me to lubricate your joints.

 

 

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Solok: A masterful cut, Doctor. Although I am puzzled as to why you opted to make the incision by hand. Would not a computer-operated scalpel have been more reliably precise?

Elizabeth looked at Solok and smiled. Sure she could have used the computer to do it for her, but some things she just liked doing herself. 

Snow: Thanks. I could have, but I guess I’m a little old fashioned sometimes and prefer to do things myself once in a while. 

Solok nodded.

Solok: I understand. I am of a similar opinion, when I must treat my slug.

It showed just how Vulcan he really was, that he was the only one in the room – or in the tales that were told of this moment, later on – who did not understand why what he had said could be construed as unusual or humorous in any way.

Elizabeth smiled and heard a slight chuckle come from Stenner. She had to say she has never heard that one before. 

Snow: Slug?

They were interrupted – mercifully, perhaps – by Stenner.

 

More Vulcan humor, during a wonderful medical scene being written by @Solok and @Elizabeth Snow as they replace our chief Nurse's spine, during a post-mission surgery!

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Mei reached out to offer her one of his fuzzy hands. Lowering his voice, he continued.

 

Mei’konda: And you’ll coome through just fine. By the way. If you liike the false fur, the real thiing is much better.

@Mei'konda Do you want to be hugged by your Chief Nurse once she can walk again? Because this is how you get a hug from your Chief Nurse who's obsessed with plushies designed in your honor/image. 

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  • 4 weeks later...

I loved seeing 101 and 000 step up to defend this young local. Great stuff @Mason G! Also, the idea of a purple football was supposed to be a serious thought, but it still gave me a chuckle.
 

101 took a step forward, trying not to scowl, but 000 lacked the courage of their partner and remained a little further back— though still within reach.

101: Leave her alone. She’s just a little girl.

Levinson: Response

T'Prana: Response

McKnight / Kiax: Responses

The second guard squinted at 101, probably trying to decide if it was worth the trouble to punt them like a little purple football, but after a moment he let it go. His shoulders relaxed slightly with the decision, but his expression remained sour.

Guard 2: Perhaps not— after a while, they all look the same… but don’t think you can convince me that she can be trusted.

101 stood firm, unimpressed by the response. With a concerned expression, 000 leaned in to Jurong to speak to her.

000: ::softly, to Ka’ala:: Are you okay?

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I just about died laughing reading this. XD

From Esa's sim "Standoffish":

Nodding, Esa turned back to the guards.

Kiax: So. We’re going in, with Ms Ka’ala here. And you’re going to let us.

Guard 1: And what makes you so sure of that, spotty?

Esa glared at the obviously racist man. Yes, she had spots. All Trill did; and you could be damn sure that all Trill were of better moral stock than him. Though Esa was certainly not above retaliating with the name calling.

Kiax: Because, you feckless oaf – you’re going to come in with us.

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  • 1 month later...
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The Caitian nodded thoughtfully in return.

 

Mei’konda: Yes, the installation of additional structural integrity field and inertial dampener generators was a hiigh priority while I supervised the Astraeus refit when I was a Lieutenant Commander. Her spaceframe may be agiing, but the math added up in our simulations. She handles quantum slipstream well enough, so high conventional warp should be achievable. One little step at a time.

 

He paused for a moment, allowing a slight smile to cross his muzzle.

 

Mei’konda: And, perhaaps, I have a little extra motivation. The Constitution has a maximum speed of somewhere between warp fourteen and warp fifteen on our new warp scale. I thiink we can do a little better.

 

This made me crack up a little. As I also write on the Conny I couldn't help but smirk a little bit in pride and amusement. A tale of two Galaxy classes. :D Did you know we also have removeable Warp nacelles on the Conny to? Just ask @Jalana!

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  • 1 month later...

So, for context, the Astraeus is conducting warp tests to test out a new maximum emergency threshold and we're engaging in some risky behavior. This piece of @Mason G's latest sim in that arc just had me crackin' up, so I thought I would share it with everyone.

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Serala: I agree with Lansa, but this is only a test. We have the power available at the moment, and if it becomes necessary, we can always redistribute and drop our speed. But my recommendation is to push things and see just what we can manage under duress.

Mei’konda: A test liike this should take into account as many variables as possible. If all of you agree that this is viaable, then I agree. Any other concerns?

Raga: Another thing to consider is that our new emergency warp capability is also heavily reliant on both the Astraeus’ impressive sensor suite and the deflector. If either or both of those are not working at full capacity, or offline entirely would we even be able to use the higher warp speed without colliding into something that kills us?

While programming their update to the navigational systems, 101 had successfully kept their partner’s mind off of the whole “what if this fails and we crash into a space rock and explode across the cosmos like some kind of sad, messed-up space roadkill” possibility. Briefly and halfheartedly, they cursed Toryn for voicing the concept aloud where 000 could hear it.

Of course, the thought wormed its way into 000’s head and put them through about fifty different horrified facial expressions— likely one for each terrible death that they imagined could befall a crew zipping through space at the insane speed of warp thirteen point three.

101: There is a predictive feature to our navigational program,
000: u-um…
101: …which should buy us a few moments in the event of a sensor failure to slow down…

Mei inclined his head toward the two Bynars, probably just in time for him to see 000 with a look like they were sitting on a rollercoaster just before its big drop.

 

Now I'm hoping we don't turn into space roadkill. Thanks, @Mason G 😂

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Okay, @Mason G's next one was equally as good, though not necessary for the comedy - though there is a bit here as well. Just very well written and great insight into the Bynar mind.

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The thought of moving straight up to 13.5 from 13.3 instead of first making a pit stop at 13.4 was harrowing, to say the least, especially if each increase was more and more difficult to make.

The Bynars listened closely to the other voices on the bridge, but were too focused on their station to feel particularly comfortable speaking. Like the Astraeus, every living being’s brain only had so many resources to go around— attention was finite, and it took more and more of their concentration to keep up with the navigation as the speed of the ship grew higher and higher.

The communication of paired Bynars’ brains was very much like a dance— a dance which 101 usually lead and 000 usually followed.

Through a complex web of interactions aided by their synaptic processors and memory buffers, they worked together to achieve something greater than the sum of their parts. They were a carefully balanced team that had worked and grown into each other for 26 years, knit so closely together that even their brains seemed to be two halves of one whole, but in truth, they were no longer a perfect match for each other. It was the result of the terrifying ordeal of being alive and gaining life experience that they processed in different ways, because no two things could ever be truly identical. As far as Bynars went, they were an oddball pair that hadn’t been truly in sync for the past eight years— not since 000 had become “damaged goods” and their dance was thrown terribly out of balance.

In every dance, there was the risk of stepping on each other’s toes. There was the risk of one partner going up for the leap and the spin in front of the audience, and the other partner failing to catch them in front of the horrified crowd.

All it took was one second of hesitation for the dance to fall out of sync. 000 heard the hull of the ship groan in response to the strain of the speed, and in a moment of involuntary panic, tripped through a calculation. Their brain missed the pass of a number to 101, and the entire chain of calculations fell apart.

000: Wait— wait!
101: We’ve lost it,
000: stop!

Mei'konda: Response

Serala / Cheveyo-Arma / Peters / Raga: Responses

The ship fell out of the accelerated warp and back down to a speed that was easier to manage. The Bynars weren’t sure if they’d managed to hit warp 13.5 or not, but they’d been asked to say something as soon as they became uncertain of their ability to calculate geographic changes fast enough for the ship’s speed… and so they had.

000 pressed their face into their hands, thoroughly embarrassed.

101: ::quietly:: We were doing great, what happened?
000: I’m so sorry, Captain, that was… that was my fault. I couldn’t keep up.
101: Zero…
000: It was. I’m sorry, I— I was really scared. I flubbed some numbers.

101 seemed unsure of what to say, but didn’t look away from their partner.

 

 

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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 2 months later...

@Valin Dermont sent out this really emotionally vulnerable sim that for some reason caught me off guard (in a good way). It was a nice reflective moment and a good change of pace in the middle of a tense mission. The bit about him comparing the crew to his children really squeezed my heart…

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His head leaned heavily against the back of the chair and he let out a sigh.  It had been a rather long day.  All crew that had been aboard the Aldrin, regardless of their lifesigns, were now aboard the Astraeus.  Of course, there were even more crewmen out there, stranded on a Chon station.  As usual, Dermont was having a hard time aligning the death and danger with his curiosity.  Seven dead.  So far.  At least when they were attacked in the middle of a relief mission, they were trying to accomplish a good deed.  But now...why were they in the Cloud?  What was the point?

oO We're a curious bunch... Oo

And if Dermont was honest with himself, that really was enough.  He had no illusions that one day he'd go on an away mission, poke something he shouldn't poke, and likely end up murdered in some terribly inconvenient manner.  He had accepted that a while back.  He was okay with a death out here doing what he wanted to be doing.

oO That's not the rub though, is it? Oo

What if it was Toryn?  Ral?  Today they hadn't even seen a foe, but the two people he was currently closest to on the ship had phasers out, prepared to shoot each other.  Of course it had all been due to a foreign substance.  But that honestly happened far more often than you'd think it would.  Really...how many mind altering substances/beings were there in this corner of the galaxy?  He pushed the stray thought away.  While he was comfortable with his own death, he hated to even consider the idea of it happening to someone else on the crew. 

He glanced on the far wall, next to the entrance of his quarters.  There was a large photo, nearly a meter long.  His family and the crew of his old freighter, the BSC Endurance.  He used to walk into his quarters every evening and recite the names of those he had lost.  With the exception of himself and his family, every person in the photo was gone.  Norman, Chesh, Preena, Prium, Gloria, Chel-var, Meudar, Dolmak, Ciat, Gard, and Mazius.  Space had taken his first real crew.

He turned just a bit so he could see the table to his right.  Three more photos sat there.  He smiled every time he saw the first one.  

oO Toryn so proud (smug) o' the climb and Serala tryin' her best ta pretend it wasn't cold... Oo

The three of them and Lieutenant Lambert...another loss.  Without reason or explanation, just another office missing in action during a dangerous mission.  Despite that loss, it was his first real time connecting with anyone in Starfleet.  There was Captain Brell, of course, but he'd never managed a photo with the man.  He touched the edge of the frame and then picked up the second one.

oO Who'da thunk I'd nab me a professor? Oo

The photo was of Dermont standing next to a lovely woman with auburn hair interlaced with just a few strands of silver.  Her amber eyes sparkled and there were heavy laugh lines around her eyes.  Their arms were linked and they posed happily in front of a Bajoran lightship.  He couldn't help but chuckle at the memory.  They had flown the thing from Bajor to Deep Space Nine and back again.  Neither had any clue what they were doing and the ship barely had much in the way of landing gear.  The journey had been memorable, but the landing (read crash) had been hilarious.  Their ship had dangled from that tree for three hours and neither of them were confident enough to risk the climb.  Of course, they found things to occupy their time until a rescue had arrived...

The last photo was the most recent.  Dermont with Ral, Peters, Tarva, and Talibrek hiding in the background.  The Warp 13 test.  This memory was still fresh, so it hadn't had the time to gather the nostalgia, but he cherished it nonetheless.  Ral...Wyatt, really, was a couple of years younger than Dermont's own son, Kurdan.  Who also happened to be half-Betazoid.  And who also happened to have that same skilled power of observation.  Of course, the similarities really did end there.  Wyatt seemed to have infinite patience for Dermont's antics, while Kurdan...not so much.

oO Comparin' the crew ta yer children again, eh? Oo

He snorted at his own thoughts. He'd done it with most of the younger ones.  It wasn't on purpose.  They were just so young.  And while this job had a habit of making you grow up fast, he knew for many of them Starfleet was their first real time away from their homes.  And some fatherly instinct buried way down deep wanted to protect them from the heartache this life would offer them.  He thought of Kiax for a moment.  The young woman had been such a bundle of sunshine and innocent energy when she first arrived, but this life...well, there was still the energy.  But the innocence?  And how much of that was due to the joining and how much due to what Starfleet officers simply have to endure out here among the stars?  And she was but one example.  Tarva had nearly died.  Poor Donaldson had.  Along with too many others to count.

He blinked his eyes a few times, feeling the moisture beginning to form there.  Dermont growled to himself, set the photo back down and leaned forward.  He tried to make some excuse about exposure to the V-22.  And while that was true and he had apparently picked it up from Wyatt, it never had a chance to take hold of him.  Wyatt's telepathy had made him more susceptible to its influence.  They had caught the infection inside Dermont when he returned from the Aldrin and were able to purge it before feeling any of the effects.

oO Oh no, Valin.  All these feels are all yer own. Oo

Dermont rubbed his hands together and then clapped them together loudly a few times.  He knew he was spiraling inside his own head again.  Shrink would probably say he was missing his family and projecting that emotion onto the crew.  Or perhaps he was using this crew as a surrogate crew for the one he lost all those years ago.  Counselors were ridiculous.  He just wanted to make sure nobody else died.  Ever.

That brought out a laugh and another snort.

oO Oh, sure, just end death, eh?  Ye've got a mighty pair, don't ya, Valin? Oo

oO Ah shaddup. Oo

He stood suddenly.  He wasn't due in Engineering for another four hours, but he couldn't sleep and certainly couldn't just sit here.  Dermont snatched his thermos off the table and headed for the door.  He needed to get away from himself for a bit and there was work to be done.  

 

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  • 5 months later...

Been a while since anyone has posted here, but I came across this one-liner from our Ensign @Charles Matthews that had me rollin' and thought I would share. For reference, for those who may not know, our CO is a Caitian.
 

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Mei’konda: Now, Ensign Matthews, fire! 

Matthews: ::pushing buttons:: Firing, sir! 

The first few phaser blasts zoomed towards the station and missed. Matthews shook his head, adjusted the targeting sensors, and shot again. They flew closer to the station but missed a second time. He felt like the Captain would be having kittens. He focused up and made a slight adjustment, then fired for a third time. This time, the dull green of the shields flashed as the phasers struck the station. He then started calibrating the automatic targeting scanners and shot with full available power. 

 

mew, mew instead of pew, pew!!!

Edited by Serala
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