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21
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: PRO S [ Day 1 | 1200hrs ] ALL ABOARD the Crazy Train!
Last post by TWilkins -
[ Ensign Sylvain Llewellyn-Kth | The Conference Lounge | D.8 | V.2 | USS Theurgy ] @Ellen Fitz

Chief CONN Officer…

When Sylvain had entered the room, he had done so under no illusion that his position aboard the Theurgy would be trivial at best. He was well aware that the only reason he had been placed aboard the vessel was convenience, a tactical decision from Admiral Anderson, one that kept his precognitive abilities out of the reach of the Parasites that had infested Starfleet Command. And the Ensign fully understood the connotations of that. He was expecting a quiet corner of an astrophysics lab, somewhere far removed from the important goings on of the ship, somewhere where someone who had graduated from the Academy not two years ago, wouldn't be involved with anything of consequence.

At least, that was what he had assumed.

Apparently, the opposite was true.

If the Vulcan had noticed the wide-eyed expression of disbelief that had thundered onto Sylvain’s face in response to his abrupt appointment as the Chief CONN Officer, he didn’t comment on it.  His only real reaction was delivering a somewhat stoic nod to the Ensign, before continuing to speak once more, moving on to topics of crew quarters and assignments, evidently oblivious to the way in which Sylvain had tensed up so hard that he threatened to snap his own femur.

Chief CONN Officer…

It was as though the Commander’s words had opened up a wormhole within Sylvain’s brain, a tunnel through which his head was immediately assailed by echoing thoughts of the most brutal self-depreciation. He felt the sting of intrusive thoughts biting down into his psyche, telling him oh-so-easily, that he was going to get the entire crew of the Theurgy killed, that he’d already fallen victim to the parasites, and that it was only a matter of time before he lost himself completely in the throes of their control… Sylvain knew all too well where this line of thought was going.

Soon enough, he’d have to consider the reality that such harrowing thoughts could be precognitive in nature, and that his abilities could be warning him of a future reality where he did get the crew of the Theurgy killed. Then, he’d have to tell himself that this wasn’t the case, that they were just intrusive thoughts owed to being shocked by the Vulcan’s sudden revelation that he was being given the position of Chief CONN Officer on the Federation's most advanced ship. It would become a spiral of self-hatred that would occupy his mind for a few hours, before the next inconvenient, but possible, premonition came along and stole his attention. As had been the story of his entire life.

This time however, he needed to expedite that process.

So, Sylvain tried his damnedest to push such thoughts to the back of his mind, resolving to still his somewhat trembling hands in order to better focus on following along with the Vulcan’s briefing, mentally taking notes of the location of his quarters, and to check the computer for schematics when he arrived. There was mention of an assignment for him, a race by the name of the ‘Savi’ as well as their vessel, the Erudite, and an expectation that Sylvain would be not only accompanying their Tac CONN units, but that he would be the senior CONN Officer joining them whilst they moved to intercept their enemies near the Hobus Star…

If his attempt to calm his nerves had shown any signs of success, it was immediately overturned.

As such, when the Commander on the opposite side of the table had finished his brief, and had extended the opportunity for Sylvain to ask any questions he may have had, it was of minimal surprise that the Ensign did not handle the opportunity to do so, with the grace and eloquence that he might have liked. Instead, much to Sylvain’s dismay, the reply he gave to the Commander’s briefing was a noise that inadvertently escaped from his throat; a squawk that might have been mistaken for the sound a fowl would have made, had a Gorn picked it up by the throat, ripped it in half, and then hurled it into a warp core…

Sylvain was keenly aware that first impressions were perhaps not his strong suit.

“Apologies, Commander…” He half choked, clearing his throat as soundlessly as he could manage, all the while making a desperate attempt to will his face not to shift into the colour of a red-alert, in response to the inhuman noise that he’d just made. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting to be serving in such a noteworthy position…” In some vague attempt to distract his own body from its relentless attempt to embarrass him, Sylvain took a moment to pause in his statement, his hand reaching down into the folds of the bag that was still half-hanging from his shoulder, fingers searching deftly amidst the contents until he was able to find and produce his personal PADD, as though holding it would offer some form of clarity to the turbulence of his mind and body. 

Of course, said PADD was almost exclusively occupied by two-hundred and seventy-four episodes of the ‘The Logic of T’Peng’ holoseries that he’d gotten into prior to Admiral Anderson’s communiqué; he’d gotten to a cliffhanger before he’d left the Bowman, and couldn’t risk not knowing how it ended.

“I’m sorry if I appear ungrateful, I certainly don’t intend to be; I was just under the impression that I was only being assigned here because Admiral Anderson thought that the parasites would attempt to use my psionic abilities against you… Sylvain took a moment, attempting to better stable the tremor in his breath. "And, I mean, from what Admiral Anderson told me, you’ve been out here fighting Klingon fleets, and there was that whole incident at Starbase 84, not to mention the Borg…” His hands gestured somewhat animatedly as he spoke, unsure what to do with the PADD now that it was in his grip, and apparently solving said issue by accidently hitting himself in the face with it. “My combat experience is limited to -ouch- Talarian rebels, and some posturing against a Tholian scout ship that kind of just flew away after locking weapons on us…”

To make matters worse, he accidentally relinquished his grip as he said ‘flew away’ and the accompanying gesture sent his PADD hurtling to the far corner of the room.

“I'm so sorry Commander…” He mumbled through his embarrassment, hazel eyes affixed in horror to the corner in which his PADD had just landed in. “I’ll pick that up.” He continued with a grimace, standing messily from his chair and thankfully not tripping over his bag in the process, carefully walking around the edge of the table whilst desperately trying not to show how unfathomably mortified he was in the moment. He was very conscious that his attempts to articulate himself were failing rapidly. Initially he had been concerned that the Commander might  be severely overestimating his abilities, whilst now he was concerned that the Commander might be severely underestimating them. If he couldn’t hold onto a PADD without throwing it across the room, what use would he be on the bridge?

Chief CONN Officer aboard the most advanced vessel in the Federation… Surely there was no conceivable way that he could have deserved such an appointment?

But, then again, objectively speaking, Sylvain was qualified for the position.

It was true that his personal record consisted of, as the Vulcan had stated, glowing recommendations from both his academy professors and several Officers from the Thames, as well as no doubt some form of praise from Captain Yume to reflect his service aboard the Bowman. Yes, he was certainly in possession of academic feats that made him a good fit for the role; not many Cadets took Advanced Astral Navigation, and even fewer passed it. And indeed, he had served as Chief CONN Officer previously; he could pilot a starship flawlessly, he knew how to efficiently manage a department, and he could certainly participate in Senior Staff meetings…

There was no doubt that he could manage the essentials of the job... He had been managing the essentials of the job, for over a year. Sure, the Theurgy was a bigger ship than the Bowman, and it had a more important mission, but that just meant that he had more support behind him when the going got tough... And equally, more people to disappoint if he failed.

“I appreciate that I’m not making a good first impression here Commander…” Sylvain grimly confirmed, bending down to pick up the PADD and making a conscious effort to point his arse away from the Vulcan as he did so; the last thing he needed was to get accused of trying to exchange sexual favours for duty assignments. Upon grasping the PADD, he stood once again, taking a small, sharp breath, and squaring his shoulders slightly, tightening his posture as he attempted to look as professional as he could manage. “I have to be honest with you Sir; I haven’t fought the Borg or Romulans, I don’t know who the Savi are, and I don’t know how much I’m bridging to the table here...”

Sylvain paused again, making sure to level his gaze so that he was making eye contact with the Commander.

“But at the same time, whilst I know it definitely doesn’t seem like it, I’m actually really good at my job; it's the interpersonal stuff that doesn’t come naturally…” He had a slither of hope that a Vulcan might be sympathetic on that front. “I don’t know if I’m trying to convince you that I belong here, or if I’m trying to convince myself, but…” He paused again, trying to phrase himself in a way that didn’t sound too cocksure or arrogant. “All I know is that I've never let anyone down on the bridge before, and I certainly don't intend to start now."
22
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Ch 4 S [ Day 01 | 1915 ] The Remains of a Crew
Last post by Dree -
[ Ens. Sashenka Kreshkova | Unnamed Cell | Alternative Asteroid Station | Romulan Space ] ATTN: @Ellen Fitz

Sasch lay on her side on the floor, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.  The horrors she had seen and felt when she was the ‘exam room’ as the Scion had called it gnawed at her mind and heart.  Here in their cell, she was no longer shackled, so while her face was turned toward the wall, her hands were pressed against her eyes as if to keep out the terrors that she had witnessed, but the harder that she pressed her hands against her eyes, the more it seemed to sere the sights into her memories.

Sasch heard footsteps outside of the cell.  Quickly she turned her back to the wall and pushed herself into one of the corners pulling her knees up in front of her and wrapping her arms around them and making herself as small as she could. A green head buried itself in her knees and she squeezed her eyes closed once again.   But instead of the forcefield opening, she felt the device that had been affixed to her skin near her collarbone inject her with something - what she wasn’t sure.  But once it happened, the footsteps moved on, and Sasch was left to survey their cell. 

It was a small 3m x 3m room.  Three smooth walls and a forcefield.  Nothing more.  No beds, no blankets, no food or water.  Nothing.  But a moment later, the young woman realized that wasn’t actually true.   Her eyes alighted on a man … a beast …  or maybe … something else?  She couldn’t be sure. 

The man looked like the one she had seen strapped to the chair before she had closed her eyes and before she had been tortured herself.  Sasch could have been appalled or frightened, but she felt nothing but care and empathy.

From her position, she leaned in toward the center of the room to see if she could see their captors.  Not seeing them at that moment, she moved to the side of the creature to see if it was breathing.  Leaning her cheek in beside it’s mouth, she felt a breath hit it, and she leaned back. 

She picked up its half hand, half paw, and laid it in her lap holding it in both of her hands.  She would wait until it woke.  She would stand guardian over it at least until then. 
23
Parallel Universes - "What if?" / Re: [2376] Entanglement of Chaos
Last post by RyeTanker -
[Ensign XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Ens. Zark) | Federation Embassy Compound| Cardassia Prime] Attn: @Ellen Fitz

It had taken an hour after returning for the on base doctor to get around to fixing all the bits of Zark that had suffered physical trauma one way or another. He'd been a bit nonplussed when he'd had to go over chest, but the Andorian had simply taken everything off and told the physician to get on with it. Going along with what was essentially a command, the doctor had given her a light pain killer and gotten to work re-knitting the battered blue flesh back together. The Chief of Security had stopped by while she was being treated to get the preliminary brief. "Ensign, I thought you had the good sense to manage one unruly diplomat."  His voice was stern, but concern was written all over his face.  Maybe it was the fact he was seeing her with dried blood and bruises.  The security officer shrugged. "No excuse sir, but it was my understanding that Ensign Madsen had general free reign to execute her chosen missions...." The Bolian cut her off. "Don't quibble details with me.  What she did was foolhardy and keeping her alive also means stopping her from doing something stupid." He exhaled before planting his hands on his hips. "You got lucky they only gave you a beating, you could have easily had your throat slit."  Zark nodded at this since he was right and he could sense it since he saw no reason continue the discussion with her acceptance. "Next time, consider your family before running head long into danger.  The war's over Ensign, we should find a way to enjoy the peace that's come from it." Zark nodded again. "Yes sir." 

Commander Herasin nodded that he felt he'd gotten his point across then turned to the doctor. "I take it you're going to prescribe bed rest to the Ensign here and the other one as well?"  The doctor nodded slowly. "This one for sure, but Ensign Madsen's injuries were on the superficial side and are easier to fix.  I'll see if she needs a few pain killers, but they'll be quite mild and I don't see any reason to restrict her from duty."  The Bolian frowned at this since he was hoping that there would be a reason to keep the diplomat locked up in all but name for a while so his headache would have time to heal.  The doctor gave a small smile as he recognized the look.  He was pretty sure Ensign Madsen made up around 80% of his headaches, though it seemed that percentage was going to go higher with her guard getting into trouble along side her.  He gave a shrug, "I'll prescribe you a mild analgesic for the headache."  Turning back to the Andorian Ensign who'd taken a moment to zip up her infiltration suit "I'm going to give you a hypospray of Anesthizine.  Take the first dose so you can sleep, then see if you need more afterwards. understood?"  Zark nodded her understanding, then became mildly annoyed when he had her repeat back what he'd just said.  The doctor nodded at this then scheduled a follow up appointment.  Before Ensign Zark could get up, Commander Herasin stopped her.  "Have your report on the whole incident ready by end of day tomorrow. Until then, get some sleep."

The security Ensign acknowledged the order and made her way back reluctantly out of the infirmary.  Before she left, she stopped by a nurse. "uhmm, what happened to Enyd?  Ensign Madsen?" she asked softly.  The nurse gave a sad smile.  "She'll be fine, but the ambassador called her as soon as we got her cleaned up.  I imagine he's interviewing her on what happened."  Zark grimaced, nodded and wished she could be there, but she was under firm orders to return to her quarters for rest and she wobbled a bit as she headed back.

[Several hours later]

There was a loud high pitched sound and another one that was metallic and hollow.  It really couldn't be that important and Zark grabbed the pillow and shoved it over her head as she tried to drift back to sleep.  The noise wouldn't quit though, and as her brain tried to boot up, it started to percolate into her mind that the voice was familiar.  She didn't want to think about it since the warm black darkness was much more comfortable.  "Go away." she mumbled into the sheets.  There was no let up, and her mind began to break down the voice on the other end, accounted for the muffling of the door, and the pillow, and it gave her a good probability that it was one Enyd Isolde Madsen trying to get in.

Letting out a soft stream of curses, Zark rolled onto her back and mustered her strength. "Okay!  Give me a minute." she yelled.  "Sheeelaat." she cursed quietly as she got up and squinted into the darkness. "Computer, lights on 30%"  A slight glow lit the room as Zark continued squinting and scratched the back of her head before yawning and gently stretching.  Figuring she had enough energy to make it out of bed, she pulled her blanket off and completely missed the feeling of Andorian Cave Spider Silk brushing against her exposed body before swinging her feet to the ground and slowly making her way over to the door.  "Computer, one ketheka with caramel, and one coffee, black." she grumbled out. The sound of the replicator activating only registered as far as the system worked before she got to the door.

Without much thought, her drug addled brain hit the door switch and it swung open before she leaned an elbow up against the frame, utterly oblivious to her nudity on display for anyone to see.  Exhaling and taking a moment to rub the back of her head, she squinted to make sure it was Enyd then sighed.  "Well, come on in."  Turning around, she headed into the room and absently waved at the replicator.  "There's coffee, go ahead and grab it, then tell me why you're trying to knock down my door." Zark instructed as she grabbed her own drink and shambled her way back to bed before covering up and taking in the warm nectar that was supposed to bring her brain back online.
25
Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: Day 17 [0845 hrs.] (R)idiculous (I)nconvenient (O)rnament
Last post by P.C. Haring -
[ Lt Reggie “Gemini” Suder | Wolf-13 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @rae‍ 

Reggie chuckled at the unexpected critique of her battle strategy.  She was a little miffed by the feedback on her own tactics when she had been expecting a more directed evaluation of the ship.  Even so, Janus had a point but it also had a flaw in the evaluation.

“Fair point, Janus,” Reggie replied.  “That said, had this been an actual combat engagement, Thea’s shields would have been up, and neither the target nor I would be that close as we would have been inside her shield perimeter.”

She paused and collected herself before she got to snippy with Janus. 

“Really, though.  It’s a good point.  I have to admit I wanted to show off the maneuverability.”

The front seat pilot took a look at her check ride checklist.  Everything was in order, and she had her punch list for Liam’s deck team.  Aside from that, the vibe she was reading from Janus was a lot less depressed than it had been when they’d suited up.  She was not reading him directly, but she didn’t have to in order get the sense of him.

“Well,” she said, “That wraps up my check ride.  I’m ready to head back to the den, but if you want to stay out and play a little longer?”

“I think I've wasted enough of your time. We're out here for the maintenance check, not flight school. Besides that, I still have to find Razor, and I don't think he's in here, unless you're hiding yet another chair in this thing.”

His mood seemed better than when they’d started, but the comment about ‘wasting her time’ bothered her.  The check ride might be done, but it was obvious that he’d need more work which, of course meant she was not done with him.

“Sounds good, Janus. Welcome back to the fold.  I’m excited to see you get back into the cockpit and I look forward to flying with you.”

She brought the ship around and began to line up for her approach.

“Now go find Razor, and get your wings back.  But first,”

She cut off abruptly as she switched the primary flight control to the back seat.

“Land the damned plane….sir.”


OOC:  Thanks to @rae‍ for contributing Janus's line.
26
Director's Cut / [2381] USS Theurgy: Move-In Day
Last post by JacenSoloDjo -
[Senior Officers' Quarters | VCTR: 1, DECK 7 | USS Theurgy]

[OOC: Continuing on from here basically.]

Kath was tempted, oh so tempted to unzip her jacket as soon as she left the conference room. But just because she wasn't actually on duty didn't mean she should go about with an unzipped uniform at a brand new posting. Another option: take the jacket off entirely then stuff it in bug-out bag. Also not a viable option, then everyone would wonder where her jacket went. And it doesn't look professional to go wandering the corridors in a tank top and uniform slacks.

No, Kath waited until she got to the right place. So much to do, so little fucking time to do it. Good thing (again) that she tended to take very little time to get situated.

As soon as she got to her quarters she dropped her bag onto the bed. Then she glanced around the new place with her fists on her hips. In her mind's eye she imagined what and where things should be. She did not have a lot of time at the moment to go full on decorating but she could make a start.

Of course, before she did that she upended her rucksack on the bed with a thump (well more like thump thump thump thump THUMP thump thump etc.,)

Grabbing the two regular duty uniforms she had in addition to the one she wore, she hung them up in the teeny closet, pants on the hanger inside of the jacket and shirt ensemble. Next was the Class-A dress uniform (classy, Kath half-giggled to herself). She had not bothered with a Type B or the Type C that would have her ribbon rack and the like for ultra important things.

Her medals and awards she picked up then promptly dumped into the lower drawer of the bedside table. Done.

The back-up pair of boots along with the boots that went with her dress uniform were then placed into the closet as well. All her grooming supplies she kept in a dopp bag during travel were slid into a drawer in the bathroom. The only real decoration she kept from post to post was a picture frame that cycled through multiple pictures of her family and her best friend, Sandra. That she put on her desk and activated both the pictures and the magnet to keep it from toppling during 'turbulence' (read: when the ship is under attack or gets bounced around by a subspace eddy like a leaf in a stream).

"Computer, time?" Kath asked as she was pulling out a couple of PADDs, one of which holding a schematic for a model airplane she hoped to replicate at some point. Another held the Technical Manual for the Theurgy-class (without all the changes that had been made to the Theurgy herself since commissioning).

"1245 hours, Lieutenant," a disembodied voice different from the one Kath was used to from Starbase 36 answered. For one thing it was delightfully feminine. "Also, I prefer the name 'Thea'."

Pausing in the middle of double checking the expiry dates on the rations she had also packed in her bug-out bag, Kath looked up as if she could actually see the ship's AI (but Thea had not chosen to visit in hologram form). Sure, she had known about Thea but obviously a few things were missing from the intel she had been given. Not least of which a preferred term of address/name.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Kath said sincerely before she dumped the still viable ration packs back in the bottom of her rucksack. "The tech manual I have didn't tell me you have a preference."

The tactical officer figured because it wasn't seen as something 'important'. AI and holograms were clearly still trying to be seen as sentient beings who might in fact prefer an actual name.  She did feel bad, though, as that could've been a question during 'orientation' but it simply hadn't occurred to her at all to ask if the AI might have a preferred name (or specific pronouns).

"Honest mistake," Thea said and Kath thought she heard a tone of forgiveness-- or indifference.

Kath glanced at the PADD with the said manual downloaded onto it. She then remembered she was supposed to get the supplemental to it and wandered over to her console to start the download on a fresh PADD. After, she returned to her bed to continue her unpacking and repacking ritual she did with every 'change of address'.

"I'll remember from now on," Kath assured the AI as she tossed one of the ration packs in the recycler for being out of date (though she could have sworn she had refreshed all of the rations in her bag before she left Starbase 36).

"I have no doubt you will, Lieutenant."

If that was the voice, what in the hell does the hologram form look like? Kath thought to herself. Likely, she would find out soon enough. But she wasn't about to ask Thea to show her what her holographic body looked like after her little faux pas.

Once her bug-out bag was back in order, she hung it up in the closet with her uniforms.

She then mused a little on Cross's 'advice' to "find a good window to watch the vectors separate". Picking up the PADD now blessed with the most up to date information on the Theurgy, she tapped through it a little until she got to the part about the Multi-Vector Assault Mode (MVAM). Mainly to check that nothing had changed since she had glanced over it on the ride over.


[The ship can be divided into three parts-- all three of which are warp capable. The Ranger: This combination of the second and third sections of the Theurgy is called the Ranger, since it lacks the Helmet and yet has the best propulsion and fighting capabilities of the Theurgy.]

A soft grunt left the Tactical officer. Well, alright then. It was definitely like the Hamburg but on steroids like she had remembered off the top of her head (pun not intended). It should be an interesting enough show to watch the three vectors separate from each other then reconfigure. And she also had her orders to not be on Vector two or three at the time of separation. She had to stay with the Helmet-- Vector One.

After tapping through the rest of the section of the tech manual on the MVAM system, she put the PADD down on her desk. Thea had said it was a quarter 'til the hour. Cross had something about the separation happening within the next hour. She had some time until then.

So she crossed her room to investigate the replicator sitting there. It was relatively smaller than the one she had had on Starbase 36 but she could understand why.

Finding the schematics of the model airplane she had had her heart set on for a while now, she sent the schematic over to the replicator. She watched with barely contained glee as the replicator spat out all the individual parts for the model airplane. Once they were all set, she took the container to the table. She of course didn't have time to build it, but she would at a later time.

Next, after checking the time on the chronometer on the bedside table (not wanting to ask Thea for a second time what the time was because God forbid the sexy voiced AI possibly think even less of her when she could just turn her head a little), she tapped a new command into the replicator. A frown formed on her face however as she looked at the estimated time until completion (110 minutes). Really? Well, she supposed she would be busy with the dinner party and being all secret agent-esque during it.

So, with a shrug, she tapped the confirm command on the replicator so it could start working on the woodworking tools she would need if she wanted to have the ability to carve out a new surfboard in her own time. Why the tools would take longer than the model airplane she wasn't quite sure. But she had to have them and knew it was extremely unlikely anyone on the ship would have the tools she needed. And thus, replicator to the rescue.

The real question would be where was she going to get a big enough piece of wood from? She usually used the holodeck for her woodworking projects but that meant she couldn't keep them. This board she wanted to keep. Maybe the Theurgy would stop by a planet with some unique wood that she would be cleared to bring aboard (always wary of possibly bringing insects along with the wood, she had learned that lesson the hard way back home).

"Hey, Thea?" Kath called out as she pulled her Class-A dress uniform out of the closet.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" Thea answered promptly.

"You can just call me by my first name. But can you do me a different favor while I'm gone?" Kath asked as she changed out of her uniform jacket to put on the Class-A jacket.

"Yes, Katherine?"

The former analyst paused. She hadn't meant her full first name. Ah, well.  So what if the ship called her by her full name? She certainly wasn't about to correct Thea at that juncture.

"I know you have a holographic projection form. Could you pretty please check on my woodworking tools in the replicator in like... an hour? And if I'm not back yet in another hour check them again?" Kath moved on to changing her slacks even though there really wasn't much difference between them, her brain who liked things neat and orderly demanded she swap out the entire outfit, no matter how closely two pieces might look the same.

"There is no wood in your quarters. What do you need woodworking tools for?"

"There will be wood, eventually. You'll see. But can you do this for me? Check on my tools?"

"Very well. I will... check on your woodworking tools."

"Gracias, mi socia!" Kath grabbed up her boots from the closet and pulled them on. She wasn't surprised when she got a '¡De nada!' from the AI.

Fully dressed and with a tiny bit of time to spare, Kath exited her quarters and went to do as Cross had suggested and found a better window placement than she had in her quarters to watch the separation-- and on the second vector.

Once her woodworking tools were done and she had gotten a few shifts under her belt, she would have enough inspiration for decorating her quarters and program them into her replicator. She hoped.

She had just found a nice spot to watch when she realized with a jolt, thanks to a very delayed thought process of: The new manual will probably have pictures of Thea's holographic form!


OOC: Not Kath, chaotic pansexual spook, having a Samantha Traynor moment over the AI.

Mi socia= my friend/associate
27
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: CH 2: S [Day 01 | 1700hrs] Cross on the Titan
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Lower Gymnasium | D. 14 | V. 2 | “Ranger” of USS Theurgy] ATTN: @Krajin

“I wouldn’t dream of personally offending you, Winters. At least not without a will and testimony already written.” Cross chuckled as they readied themselves for the next round.

They both operated by instinct and flowed well together for the first few moments of sparring. It was relaxing, being able to let his body work at full capacity without fear of harming his opponent. That didn’t happen often, making Cross doubly glad for the likes of Winters onboard. It meant he could have more realistic sparring matches moving forward instead of constantly being on his guard to hold back lest he risk permanent injury to his opponent.

But chalk it up to the sudden resurgence of his headache or the fact that Winters was one of the first opponents Cross had sparred with who came armed with a tail, and Cross wound up on his back staring at the ceiling as he gasped in much-needed breath. A moment passed when the seconds prior to his takedown caught up to him, and then once he recalled it all in a heartbeat, Cross laughed.

“That was good, Winters.” Pressing a hand against his temple to stave off the first tendrils of the headache before it could build to a worse level, Cross sat up and smiled at the Kzin. “I may need to see about getting a prosthetic tail before heading into our next skirmish. That thing is damn useful.”

A sharp stabbing pain caused a wince, and Cross closed his eyes, holding up a hand toward Winters to stave off any concern the man might be feeling.

"This isn’t from you. Not to shake your confidence in how bloody awesome you are, mind you. It’s that damn headache come back to bite. I must’ve shifted wrong and tweaked a nerve ending. Fucking Savi,” he peered up at the hulking man and gave a feigned smile of apology, “again, not a diplomat.” Using both hands to press against his temples, he again let his eyes close for a moment. “You wouldn’t happen to have any tips or tricks on how to get rid of a headache quick? Aside from ripping my whole head off.”
28
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: PRO S [ Day 1 | 1200hrs ] ALL ABOARD the Crazy Train!
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[ Cmdr. Cross | Conference Lounge | D. 8 | V. 2 | USS Theurgy ] ATTN: @TWilkins

No sooner had MacFarlane made her departure when a young blonde ensign came in. His first words were that of an apology, making Cross raise his eyebrows in momentary confusion. Chalk it up to being “raised” by an old bachelor and his equally single Vulcan colleague, but Cross had never suffered from the polite tendencies to apologize for things that weren’t exactly apology worthy. He knew many on the crew were, and not all of them the younger crew either. This was probably yet another reason why he’d been described as a cold, distant yet competent ass. Where certain groups of people would expect a feigned apology just for the sake of niceties, Cross remained quiet.

Cross gestured to the chair MacFarlane had vacated once the man stopped spewing forth apologies and rushed introductions. “Ensign Llewellyn-Kth, please have a seat.” Breaking eye contact just long enough to retrieve the appropriate PADD, he swiped through the PADD briefly before nodding to himself. “You’re our new chief CONN officer. I see from your record that you come highly recommended for your competency and expertise in the department.”

He didn’t comment on the other aspects of the man’s record, those detailing his unique racial abilities and extensive training to get a hold of them. Llewellyn-Kth was among “friends” in that regard, and not just because of the Savi fucking around with a few of them like Cross.

Glancing up at the younger man, he gave what he hoped was interpreted as a reassuring nod, “I’ll forward the pertinent information regarding Theurgy’s schematics and Savi upgrades to your quarters. They’re on deck 10, vector 2. Thea, our ship’s AI, can guide you there once we finish here.” He loosely held the PADD then, concentrating his gaze on the ensign. “And speaking of the Savi, you’ve been assigned to accompany their ship, the Erudite, on the upcoming mission to intercept enemy forces near the Hobus star. They will be departing around the same time that the Ranger, vectors 2 and 3, will separate from the Helmet, vector 1. Commander Stark will remain with the Helmet, and I will lead the Ranger’s mission. While many of those going on the Erudite are our Tac CONN unit members, we did require a senior CONN officer to join. Among the fighters and Savi vessels, there was room for a few other vessels that you are rated for should the need arise.”

Cross gave the man a breather, letting the information sink in. He found it ironic that according to his records, Llewellyn-Kth had found much support in following Vulcan mental discipline techniques, and yet he, a once hybrid now forced full-blooded Vulcan, had always shunned them.

He inclined his head toward the younger man, “Do you have any questions, ensign? I know that’s a lot to take in and absorb after having been on the ship for mere minutes. But such is the reality we face when dealing with the Infested and their cronies.”
29
Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: D03 {2330 hrs] - …and Party Every Day
Last post by P.C. Haring -
[Lt. Regiene “Reggie” Suder | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Stegro88‍ 

Reggie almost deflated when T’Less provided the customary direct, almost curt response.  Very Vulcan, she decided. 

But when she paused and expanded into the unspoken but preferred context, she warmed.  T’Less was making an effort… was trying.  The Betazoid kept quiet while she listened and waited for her to answer.  What's more, she sensed T’Less’s feelings.  That, she decided, was an answer in and of itself.

“But also, at the same time thankful that you had not been. I don’t think I could have handled seeing you hurt... or worse.”

That, she knew, made sense.  Anyone who had served during the War had lost someone they cared about and given what T’Less had just admitted, Reggie couldn’t imagine what kind of hell she might have put T’Less through every time she launched against the Dominion.  She understood why…

No.

There was something else in T’Less’s voice and her choice of words that made Reggie realize that what had happened to the Vulcan was not about the war.  At least not only about the war.

Closing as much of her mind off as she could, lest T’Less sense her through the physical contact, Reggie reached out for the Vulcan’s hand.

“I’m here now,” she offered.  “And I’m not going to be hurt.  I’m willing to listen to anything you want to share.”
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