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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi 2 [ D02 | 2300 hrs.] All Squared up at the Triangle

Last post by Krajin - February 23, 2025, 01:12:24 PM

[ Dominic Winters | Flight Deck | Fighter Bay | Deck 16 | USS Theurgy ATTN: All Active Writers

Dominic had been one of the first pilots to land in the bay and have Wolf-10 put off to the side for the basic repairs it needed. Compared to the others who likely had taken far more damage due to the battle that they had endured. Between Warbirds, Cloaked Fighters and Carriers, it had been a hellish time up until they could get to a safe point and land on the rather damaged landing bay of the Hangar. Luckily, Dom had experience in landing in places that did not have tractor emitters or had undergone such damage. It took careful piloting and communication with the ground crew to get into a position they wanted him in. When he disembarked out from his fighter, Dominic took note of the hectic bay, Wolf-10’s landing site was more of a wreck since it was near the ruined Lockers of the deck crew.

Once landed, he spied Lok somewhere amidst the chaos where he looked to be directing people this way and that. Atlas left him to his devices rather than bother the current ground chief as he certainly had a lot to do. Atlas moved off first to relieve some pressure that his body reminded him of existing before heading into the pilot’s lounge. He always functioned better under such stressful times as there was something to focus on. It was after all what he was built for. He inclined his head quietly to Shadow as he passed her in there, every footfall of his quiet, accentuated only by the quiet whirr of his suit’s immense frame. He replicated a snack, a small plate of snacks, and a drink before slinking off to a corner to eat in silence.

Atlas didn’t need sleep, rest yes but sleep? Nah. Even during the Dominion War he never slowed down. Always going, always willing to push it. It was after all why he got called Atlas, the Greek god of strength and endurance. He who was tasked eternally to carry the heavens. He would shoulder the team as best he could when the others needed rest and recovery. Atlas would cover for them.

This felt like an endless war for them and that no matter how far they reached for a miracle to end it, the stars just smacked that hand down once more. Was this what Theurgy had to deal with on the daily? A constant run from one fight to the next like the Thunderball in the Dominion War? He sucked in some air through his nostrils which closed for a moment before he relaxed and exhaled out.

As he finished off his snack and drink, Atlas sat in dead silence as his mind raced on the possibilities of the coming fights. They were the lost and the damned of the Federation, its hero and villain. He wondered if these people would be welcome back into the Federation after all or would they pay the price for it all? He glanced over towards his fellow pilots before getting up, setting his empty plate and cup in the replicator to be processed, and headed out.

It was moments later he had caught Lok pulling a sneak into the locker rooms and had a small talk, at the very least with the overwhelmed Kzint and encouraged him back to it with a bit of better energy behind him.

As Dom got himself situated after with his head resting against his locker, he heard the call for pilots to scramble, affixed his helmet and booked it out to the bay for the next round! Seemingly eager to pound it out with some dirty Romulans!

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Chapter 1: Not So Safe At Home [D3 00:10]

Last post by P.C. Haring - February 21, 2025, 04:11:36 AM

[Kestra Pren & Samala | Apache | Triangle Battle Zone] Attn: @Ellen Fitz‍ @Dree‍ @Stegro88‍ @Number6‍ @RyeTanker‍ @Hans Applegate‍ @Sqweloookle‍

Kestra did not need ship’s sensors, or a view out into space to know just how in the shit they were. She did not need to feel the inertial dampeners struggle to keep up as the Apache executed it’s evasive maneuvers. No the shuddering of the ship, the blown out conduits and the screaming of the wounded as the ship lurched in one direction and then the next did more than enough to tell her just how fucked they were. She’d had a bit of time to familiarize herself with the ship while it traveled from the Romulan station, and she knew it’s weapons and defensive systems were decent for a ship of it’s size. But even so as the battle raged on, there was only so much a small craft could take. At least the stolen Romulan runabout had a cloak so Cheung and the rest of the group from the Mary Baldwin could remain safe if they so desired.

The deck rocked again and she stumbled and would have stumbled but for the crowd of people packed in. More cries from the aft section rang out from the wounded and she felt the ship shudder in such a way that usually meant an engine was struggling. Deciding she had waited long enough, she took matters into her own hands and began pushing herself through the crowd making her way to the forward cockpit.

“Report,” she demanded as she entered.

The pilot didn’t turn to look at her, his attention too focused on their controls.

“We’re full evasive, Lieutenant. The Romulans keep sending stalkers after us but we’re out maneuvering them. Even so…” The deck rocked again as they took another hit. “It’ll only be a matter of time. Already our shields are down to fifty percent.”

“Land us, then!”

“Can’t. Theurgy’s cleared the approach vectors for Lone Wolf squadron and they won’t clear us to approach.”

Goddamnit. This Reman crate was about to go up, and combat priority of Theurgy’s fighter squadron took priority. Reggie Suder was out there, she knew and it tore at her to know there was a chance she’d never get the opportunity to meet her. To hell with that, she decided.

“I’m taking command. Hail…”

"The stars you are," Samala said aggressively as she charged back into the cockpit. "This is my ship."

Kestra turned on a heel as she heard the voice from behind and came face to face with an angry looking Romulan in a Starfleet uniform. The woman stood equal to her height and probably damn close in weight too. A quick second look and she realized the woman wasn't entirely Romulan, though she couldn't immediately identify why she believed that. Regardless, none of that mattered. If the non-comm in front of her thought she was going to pull rank on her, she had another thing coming.

"Excuse me, Crewman, did you mean to say something to me," she asked, allowing the disdain to drip into her voice.

Samala cocked her head to the side, trying to decide how best to deal with the fool in front of her. Her hand twitched slightly, her first reaction to draw her blade and end the woman in front of her. But she held her stance, and tried words instead.

"If you are having trouble hearing ma'am," She said mildly, "Might I suggest seeing the medics in the hold. Hearing loss can be a symptom of many different mental issues."

She moved past the spotted woman and into the pilot's seat that the current occupant vacated for her.

Ohhh how the insubordination chafed at her. Instinct drove her to continue chewing out this arrogant Romulan but as the deck of the Apache rocked again under Romulan disruptor fire and she realized she had much more important issues at hand.

"Crewman, we will discuss your attitude in much greater depth when this crisis is over. In the mean time, get this ship on the deck, NOW."

"If you are anxious to die ma'am, I'll open the airlock for you myself," Samala shot back without looking, working on some screens, adjusting the Apache's systems.

"You heard what was said, they haven't cleared us to approach and I am not taking the reaming from Lillee about breaking protocols."

Kestra didn't know who this Lillee was but she understood that she might be ordering this crewman to break the orders of another superior officer. Having been in that position before, she was sympathetic, though the attitude still needed to be checked. The pilot also had a fair point that they weren't cleared. Even so there were critically wounded back there.

"Fuck the clearance and fuck this Lillee of yours. We have people dying back there and I'm not going to sit around and let it happen. Are you?" She paused as the ideas came to her. "Now if you want to keep throwing that attitude of yours around, we can argue until your brethren blow us out of the sky. But if you want to blow that attitude out the airlock you seem keen on using, and help me to help the injured back there, I'll be more than happy to take the heat from your superiors for the break in protocol..."

Another rocking from weapons fire cut her off, and the corridors echoed with more screaming.

"What will it be? Fuck around and find out? Or save lives?”

Samala's hand twitched again, the call of the blade growing louder in her mind. But she ignored it as she focused on the rest of what the officer had said.

"Don't ever call me Romulan," Samala seethed, baring her fangs. "How do you plan on getting aboard? In case you haven't noticed, we're damaged, and you want us to fly TOWARDS the largest target in the vicinity, in the one ship guaranteed to piss of the Romulans more than the Theurgy. I love my brother and want him to get help but he wouldn't want me to die trying to save him."

So. She had a brother. On this ship. Interesting. That gave her a reason to try. She just needed to believe it could work.

"I have no intention of dying, Crewman. I just happen to have a few tactical tricks up my sleeve."

She turned to the engineering station which was occupied by another crewman who had remained silent through most of it.

"Out."

He obliged her and she took the now vacant seat. Her hands went to start keying commands but stopped short when she realized the console was in Reman. Then it clicked.

"You're part Reman, aren't you? Whats your name, Crewman?"

Samala had to fight to hold back the laugh. She still hadn't got the ship's systems to stop defaulting back to Reman when someone left the console.

"Hit the glyph in the top right. That will change the display for you," Samala instructed, smiling. "My name is Samala, and I'm all Reman, Thank you."

Kestra found the icon Samala had described and keyed it. Almost instantly the settings came up and she selected the setting closest to Federation standard. It struck her as odd that she had described herself as 'all Reman'. It didn't take a medical scan to tell someone that she was at least half Romulan genetically. But she had learned a while ago not to judge what was in someone's heart.

"Kestra Pren," she said by way of introduction. "All Trill." She paused as she set up the configuration she needed. "I've seen Remans in action. During the War. They were ruthless and efficient. Stood toe to toe with the Jem'Hadar and came out on top every time. It doesn't surprise me in the least that you have no love of the Romulans knowing what they did to your people."

She paused as she finished her configurations.

"So I think I'm safe in assuming that you don't want to die out here at their hands. I have a plan that gives us a chance, but I can't do it alone. I'll need your help and we'll have to work together as a team. So what do you say? Can you help me by matching course and speed with Theurgy and keeping us within one kilometer directly aft? Or do you want to kick me out and leave our fate in the hands of the Romulans?"

Another jolt shook the Apache, this one the most violent of all. The sounds of a console overload on one of the rear compartments echoed as the smell of acrid smoke curled her nose. On her screen an alert popped on her screen.

"Whatever decision you make, you don't have much time. That last hit took our shields down to fifteen percent. We won't survive another strike like that."

So this post was originally intended to put all of the chapter 1 characters, but @Stegro88‍ and I talked and we decided to do a quasi joint post to get the deed done. Feel free to post what your character is up to while Kestra and Samala debate whose is bigger.

Parallel Universes - "What if?" / Re: USS Theurgy: What If...? A Winter Wonderland

Last post by RyeTanker - February 18, 2025, 07:35:21 AM

[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) & Lt ThanIda zh'Wann (Lt. zh'Wann) | Campsite Gamma | Theta Sigma VI] Attn: @AbsintheDeux @tongieboi @Dumedion

Zark happily looped her arms around Talia and Ida’s and practically dragged the two towards the fire that was starting to grow in size as other crew mates through various bits of flammables into the pyre. Definitely good times as she kept the smile fixed on her face while she nattered on “I haven’t seen snow in a while now and I forgot how much I missed it. I mean, this is a good size dusting by comparison to where I’m from back home, but one takes what they can get!” The vivacious Zhen bubbled on happily. “It’s really not that bad out here. Pretty close to when I would run outside naked when I was a kid.” Zark’s smile was dreamy while laced with a heavy admixture of mischief as she approached the bonfire.

“I’m sure those days are in the past and we won’t be seeing repeats now?” Ida inquired in an attempt to discourage her colleague from utilizing her exhibitionist tendencies.

Zark turned towards Ida and smiled back while bobbing her white eye brows. “But it’s so freeing to be clear of all this tight clothing.” Zark leaned in to brush her chest against Ida’s arm and the snow suit did very little to hide the figure underneath. Ida simply rolled her eyes and instead focused on keeping her painting supplies balanced.

As the group approached, Talia broke off to start warming herself up and the medic looked on in amusement and intrigue as the human did her best impression of being slow cooked by the fire. Ida busied herself with putting up the easel, then getting her self-warming palette out to put paints on. A crewman who’d appointed himself as waiter joined the group. “Can I get you ladies anything?” Zark smiled back as she began shaking out her hair. “One Betazoid mocha with a shot of tulaberry crème in it.” The waiter nodded as he punched in the item. “A ketheka with cream.” Ida simply answered as she checked on her case of paints. The crewman nodded once more and moved to see if Talia wanted anything to eat and drink.

After a fore more moments and satisfied at the setup, Ida decided to check on her subject. “Okay Zark, I’m ready…” The Deputy paused as she found medic lounging on a bench, one leg angled behind the other and her upper body twisted towards Ida. Her jacket was hanging around her elbows leaving soft blue skin exposed to the snow and elements as puffs of snow gathered in her long white tresses. One arm rested on top of a knee. Impossibly, she appeared to be only wearing a bikini top which looked ludicrously thin as a pair of small mounds could be seen poking out from her chest. The sultry look she was giving Ida told the painter everything the other Zhen was intending. “No arguing, you’d better get this look down quick so I can get dressed again or I’m going to sit here and let everyone ogle me till you start. And if you try to get me to cover up, we can have a fight, right here, right now.”

Ida opened her mouth to protest anyway. “You have a very questionable contact with the reality the rest of us are living in, and you can put some clothes on, or I can order you back to the ship.”

“Nah uh. Not happening. I told you, I haven’t seen snow in forever and I’m going to enjoy it.”

Whatever Ida was going to say next ground to a halt as the two Andorian’s turned their antennae towards the tree line as they heard a scream. A white clothed figure was scrambling out of the woods as fast as her legs would carry her in the deep snow. Dark brunette hair flailed away behind her as she’d lost he head covering. What in the hells? The two bickering Andorian’s simultaneously thought as they caught sight of the figure. Then they saw it, a charging black blur was chasing the woman with obvious hungry fell intent. Ida dropped her painting supplies and ran towards the fleeing figure knowing full well it would be too late, yet she had to try.

There was a sound of sliding metal and clicking behind her, then a loud crack rang out across the camp. Ida swore she felt the air split next to her head as a hot piece of metal flew past. It didn't stop the Deputy and she saw what was either a very good shot, or a very lucky one. Blue blood sprayed from the predator chasing the crewman and it tumbled head over heels for a moment as the bullet grazed its back. The beast eventually came to a stop on a cascade of snow before stopping once to snarl in the Andorian's direction then running back into the woods.

Ida stopped by the terrified crewman who was blabbering on about what had happened when she set upon by the beast. Her hands gripped the woman in the snow as she continued to scan the treeline when she heard the crunch of snow and looked up to see a cold faced Zark glaring at the woods. She didn't seem at all fazed by the predicament other wise as Ida noticed the medic holding an archaic Andorian rifle at low ready. Apparently the call to action had come first and quickly as she noticed the other Zhen's naked chest being barely covered by her jacket. "I think we have a bit of security issue here boss." Zark stated non nonchalantly as she continued to scan the tree line. Ida peered out into the woods and nodded. "Get dressed and loaded. We head out in ten."

Director's Cut / Re: [2381 USS Theurgy] Cohabitation

Last post by Dumedion - February 17, 2025, 01:15:10 PM

A JP by Dree & Dumedion...
[LT Reika Sh’laan/PO2 Kino Jeen | Personal Quarters | Deck 11 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Dree

“First of many firsts to come, Legs,” Kino whispered back with a playful wink, hoping to convey that she had never felt concerned or threatened about Reika’s previous relations. The present felt too amazing to dwell on the past. There was something immeasurably satisfying in the simple happiness of the moment; how all the linear events and decisions of life had led her here and now, of all places. It was...surreal, like a dream, but better than anything the Trill’s imagination was capable of. Her hand tightened around Reika’s as they walked, grounding Jeen in the moment. Remember this. All of it, the Trill willed; the warmth of the Andorian’s hand – the way her hair swayed – the way her scent teased the air. Above all, Jeen wanted to remember the happiness and joy in Reika’s smile, the way she looked at her. Like I’m the only one in her world, Jeen realized with a smile that lit up her face and colored her cheeks.

Once inside their soon-to-be shared living space, the non-com noted the subtle shift in temperature, but barely had time to feel it; Kino’s eyes never left Reika’s face as the Andorian drew close and pulled her into an embrace – the Trill couldn’t stop smiling – couldn’t stop her hands and arms either. Wrapped up in blue, Kino tilted her head up and to the side to feather kisses up along the Andorian’s jaw.

“Home is where you are,” the non-com grinned quietly into a blue ear, then pulled back enough for them to meet each other’s eyes. “So – shower first,” Kino suggested with a cocked brow and a playful smirk as she unzipped her duty jacket halfway, “then snuggles?”

[Reika]
It was like Kino could read her mind - a feast for the eyes and hands and heart. Then and there, she decided that every time the two of them were in each other’s presence, she was going to learn something new, find a new physical aspect of Kino, discover a new emotional propensity of her love - just something. It could be a freckle or the way she tilted her head or how her eyelash fluttered when she was in thought, or even a sound she would make when she found herself in a particular situation. Anything or everything - every time. She would learn and study the heart that walked outside of her body, so she could more fully worship at its altar.

Lowering the chin, which she had lifted to give Kino access to her jawline, Reika couldn’t bring herself to smile. She was too happy to smile. Her heart was too full, so instead of saying something and breaking the ebullient bubble swelling within her chest, she drew Kino along by the hand through the bedroom, where she deposited the Trill’s bag on the foot of her bed, but continued through into the bathroom. When she reached its doorway, the Andorian turned around stepping backward and taking Kino by both hands, the elegant Andorian led her into the room where they would share their first shower together in their shared quarters.

She had seen Kino naked many times already, but somehow, the expectation of this encounter felt different. Her stomach was all aflutter, and her chest noticeably rose and fell with each anticipatory breath. She took a step toward the noncom and released the milky fingers so she could unzip her uniform jacked the rest of the way. She slipped her blue fingers over Kino’s shoulders, releasing the jacket from its perch and allowing it to drop to the floor. A blue tongue set her azure lips, and her eyes never left the arctic-colored ones of the woman she loved.

[Kino]
“Silent treatment already,” she teased playfully, eyes bright, smiling brighter; as her jacket hit the floor, her hands and fingers deftly slid up Reika’s torso to mimic the Andorian’s movements. There were entirely too many layers of clothes separating them, and Kino needed them gone, but her movements were not hurried. This was no scramble for satisfaction; not a dead sprint of passion to the finish line.

It was the end of one journey and the beginning of another: just another step onto another path, one they could walk together. There was no hurry. In that moment, they were immortal - untouchable - unbound and untroubled by time, physics, or the laws of reality. After all, what did any of that matter, compared to the love that lit up the soul? Nothing. Kino gazed into her love's eyes, those endlessly beautiful oceans of blue. In their depths she witnessed everything her life could be, everything her heart needed, and everything her body craved. Nothing else matters.

Reika’s jacket joined Kino’s at their feet, as pink lips gently pressed into blue. Pale fingers tugged up on a golden undershirt once, to free it from the Andorian’s slacks, before curling in against azure skin in a slow tickle. All the while, the pair slowly orbited each other, until Kino’s butt bumped into the vanity with a giggle.

[Reika]
Reika chuckled. She had been silent - words weren’t important. What needed to be said could be - and was being - said without words. It was spoken by the glint in an eye or the brush of a fingertip, in the flush of a cheek, or the curl of a lip. Just after Kino’s jacket hit the ground, Reika felt the touch of Kino’s fingertips, first on her shoulders dropping her own jacket to the floor.
Reika’s lips parted in anticipation as Kino pressed in. Lips joined each other. If it hadn’t been for the color difference, there were moments when it would have been hard for a bystander to tell where one set ended and the next began. The two moved fluidly in and around each other. Reika draped her arms over Kino’s shoulders, folding them around the Trill’s neck. One locked in place, the other slipped up into Kino’s white hair.

But she felt Kino’s hands tugging at her shirt. She felt it slip its moorings and warm fingers slipped under its hem and ran along her torso, but as the two spun around each other on an invisible axis, Reika felt Kino bump into the sink. The smile that broke onto her lips broke their kiss, but drew her heart even closer to her girlfriend.

Reika lifted Kino up and plopped her ass on the sink, touching the inside of Kino’s knees Reika spread them apart so she could step into the space she created. Blue fingers lifted up, allowing Kino the ability to remove the shirt she had untucked.

[Kino]
Golden fabric peeled away from blue flesh, but Kino’s eyes never left Reika’s. She watched the flow of platinum hair tossed by the movement with a smile and sigh of satisfaction, even as her hands roamed of their own accord across soft skin. The Trills legs, open at the thighs to accommodate, hooked around the Andorians waist in a welcoming embrace. The entire movement occurred mere seconds, even though nothing had been rushed or frantic in their movements; Jeen marveled at that, at how right it felt, just being there, wrapped up in each other, as her hands slowly trailed up Reika’s flank to gently cup each side of her beautiful face.

No words, then; Kino let her eyes and her body do the talking.

A head tilt was all it took, followed with a brush of lips.

Perhaps the shower can wait, Kino chuckled to herself…

~FIN~

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi 2 S [D02| 1900] The Ravaged Prisoners of War

Last post by Dumedion - February 16, 2025, 08:02:58 PM

[LT Arven Leux | PCU, Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 2 | The Ranger] Attn: @Dree @Ellen Fitz
[Show/Hide]

For all his faults – which Arven was dutifully aware of, (thank you very much) – he had always strived to never allow arrogance or apathy to be counted among them. Sure, he could appear that way, especially to engineers that refused to listen to common sense, or…just idiotic patients in general, but that was all just a coping mechanism. To do his duty, to enable the necessary compartmentalization to preserve his own sanity, he had to maintain that distance; it was a hard lesson learned a long time ago – otherwise, every loss, every failure…it would all add up and cripple him with doubt, or worse. What good would he do then?

Some called him an asshole for that…detachment. Some questioned his “bedside manner”. Arven questioned it too, in the rare moments of self-reflection he was afforded, but those moments came and went, and in the end, he always managed to shrug and soldier on; because his way of working worked – so far, at least. So when the Erudite survivors were beamed aboard and flooded Sickbay with a fresh host of casualties, Arven didn’t panic; he didn’t gripe, or grumble – he didn’t feel a torrent of horror or pity or allow their trauma to affect his ability to do what he needed to do.

Work the patient, not the circumstance.

Even if the why’s and whyfore’s could be easily deducted, (given the nature of the mission, where most of them had been, and with whom); Arven refused to speculate on the horror’s some of them had obviously been through. He refused to allow himself to feel anger at the grossly unethical maltreatment suffered; the abuse, the physical traumas, but most of all – and this was particularly difficult to countenance – the terrible mental wounds inflicted which would likely take years to heal.

If they ever heal at all, the Doctor grumbled darkly after sedating yet another patient. “Get this one to the ward,” he nodded to a nurse over his shoulder. “Hourly checks only, just make sure his levels stay stable until we can fit him in for surgery to take those monitors out.” Arven moved on as he spoke, already scanning the next bed; a Bolian, twitching with nervous tremors, his eyes blank and staring at nothing.

“What’s your –“ Leux began to ask, when a high pitched shrill pierced the groans and soft, whimpering cries around him. He half turned over his shoulder to the outburst and witnessed a young-looking woman - human by appearance, with emerald hair – being comforted by another patient, which just happened to have the body of a female but the head of a grey wolf.

“I got him, go,” Dr. Pax appeared out of nowhere, in a blur of copper locks and oddly pungent perfume.

Arven snorted quietly to clear his olfactory senses, then approached the odd looking couple with what he hoped was a reassuring appearance. “My name is Arven, this is the Theurgy,” he explained over the wolf-lady’s quiet chanting. “I’m here to help you. Is it all right if I run a scan,” he asked, even as he was already passing a tricorder over both. “I need you to return to bed please,” he added to the chanter quietly. “What are your names? Does any place hurt more than anywhere else?”

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Ep. 2: S [Day 02 | 1743 hrs] Lay Down Your Burdens

Last post by chXinya - February 15, 2025, 08:40:51 AM

[Ens. Irnashall “Shall ch’Xinya | Observation Lounge 4 | Deck 15 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] attn: @joshs1000

Walking down the hallway with a faster than usual stride, Shall kept his grumbling down to an internal monologue, though his antenna made his mood obvious to anyone who saw it. Between the fighting and the slipstream failure the Stellar Cartography lab’s link to the external sensors had been damaged *again*, limiting his ability to use the watchtower protocols like he should have been able to. Luckily he’s been able to get it mostly restored now that the current round of insanity is over, but for some reason the optical sensors refuse to auto-collimate bluring out some of the most basic imagery he had available. Luckily, a baseline reading from another source should give the computer the baseline it needs to correct the issue, and there was an observation lounge just down the corridor from the lab. That’s why he was heading there now with an optical scanner in hand, a quick look out should be all that he needs.

Of course, as usual, Shall’s head was so into the stars that he didn’t even think that the lounge wouldn’t be empty stopping short a single step in the doorway at the figure sitting in the middle of the floor. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” the Andorian quickly backpedaled, adjusting his weight to back out. The invitation to stay caught the chan off guard, and since these lounges had the best views outside of his lab or standing on the hull, his feet froze in place, a slight wobble throwing off his balance. Steadying himself with a hand on the door frame for a moment, Shall nodded his head in appreciation and stepped inside. As the door slid closed behind him the corridor lighting vanished, plunging the room into near-total darkness. With only the dimmed wall console and the warp-distorted stars providing light everything was little more than a dark shape blocking out the stars, or a dark blur standing out against a slightly lighter backdrop depending on which way you looked. Shall’s eyes were quick to adjust though, and after a few moments he was confident enough to make his way towards the transparent aluminum without tripping over anything.

“I just need to mount this sensor to the frame.” He explained, holding up the scanner for the other man (judging from the bulky silhouette and deeper voice) to see, not that he would’ve been able to see much. “I work in one of the labs nearby, trying to get the sensors back into collimation.” Going by feel, Shall found the mounting point in the framework and clipped the sensor to it. Pulling a small PADD out of a side holder, the scientist activated the device and linked it to the Cartography Lab,, everything ready to go once they drop out of warp. Turning around, Shall noticed the pose his current compatriot had assumed on the floor, and he studied him for a few silent moments. “Looking for once in particular, or just using the stars as a whole?” he asked, arms crossing across his chest and leaning against the window casually, antenna bent towards the other man.

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: CH2: S [Day1|1900hrs] Show us what you got!

Last post by Pierce - February 13, 2025, 07:43:01 PM

[ Lt. JG Tessa May Lance | FAB | Deck 16 | Vector 2 | The Ranger] Attn: @Dumedion @Krajin [Show/Hide]

Tessa smiled as she heard her comrades telling their wiley tales from the battlefield. It was nice to hear the teambuilding she meant to inspire through this exercise rather than the frustration she caused from the Borg incident. Still, it was fun she thought to herself.

"Interesting story. You know, that reminds me the time that Lauren and I thought we could defeat the Dominion when we were training on MIMAS Station."

She began re-telling the story of how the alarm klaxons wailed, a symphony of impending doom. "My heart pounded against my ribs like drums. Space, once a vast, comforting blanket, now felt like a suffocating void. Lauren's voice, usually so bright and infectious, crackled through the comms to me in my own shuttle, "Be ready Tess! Incoming!"

Four Breen battlecruisers were before us. My stomach churned anxiously as I sat panicking around them. These vessels were nightmares given from their cold designs radiating an overwhelming power. "I'm reading four Breen battlecruisers and several scout ships. I think we should turn back!" I yelled into my comms, my voice trembling. I slowed my flight trainer, seeking refuge behind the cold, unyielding mass of Mars’ moon."

Tessa paused to reflect on that day that changed her life forever. The day she thought she'd lost her best friend.

"Lauren, ever the daredevil whom I learned from, ignored my plea. "Oh, come on Tess! This is fun!" Her laughter was so lively despite our terrifying reality. She scanned the Breen vessels, a reckless act that drew the immediate attention of a scout ship. Energy weapons fired through space. I watched, paralyzed with fear, as Lauren expertly dodged the blasts, her small shuttlecraft a nimble insect dancing before giants. I was in such awe at her fluid movements."

She smiled warmly, without the wild abandon she usually held in her antics. Almost oddly so.

"My own vessel was soon targeted. The Breen scouts, like predators headed my way with their weapons spitting energy death. Pew-Pew!" She grinned breaking the silence and the tension of her memory before falling back into the story.

"Thankfully, my training kicked in and I spiraled and weaved my little flight trainer with a blur of motion. But inside, I was screaming franticly. This wasn't a simulation. This was real. This was war.

And Lauren’s voice, strained now, came over the comms. "Hey Tess, in case I don't make it out of here alive, I'm transmitting the data to you so you can send it to command." A chilling premonition, one that quickly became a horrifying truth for me. As the data finished transferring and I pocketed the isolinear chip, another wave of enemy fire hit Lauren’s shuttlecraft. "Hold on, Jenn!" I cried out, desperation clawing at my heart strings.

But it was too late. She told me to take it to command and get out of the line of fire while she drew them away. Then, static. And then, a blinding flash, a silent explosion that ripped through the void. Lauren was gone and so was my best friend.

My scream was swallowed by space as my tears blurred my vision. I watched in horror as the debris of her shuttlecraft drifted away. In that moment, something inside me shattered... I was broken. The thrill of the mission evaporated, replaced by a cold, gnawing dread. I felt utterly alone, adrift in a sea of grief and fear."

She realized her demeanor had changed and she'd started to cry reliving that story. But heck, it was meant to help them understand why she was nuts. Afterall, with this much death, one had to grow accustomed to losing their friends in battle. Especially as renegades.

"My time was short though as a Breen battlecruiser broke formation, its massive form bearing down on me. It locked weapons and fired, my small ship erupting in flames. I thankfully activated the emergency transport just before the explosion. I rematerialized in the transporter room, but the battle, the loss, stayed with me... The image of Lauren’s shuttle exploding was seared into my mind. I found I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat. The sounds of the ship hummed with the memory of weapons fire. I was broken.

Years later, I ended up on the Theurgy after many other placements and at shoreleave several months ago, I found myself in a Vulcan healing chamber. The Vulcan mindmeld was my last chance, a desperate attempt to purge the trauma that had taken root in my mind. I relived it all – the cold of space, the deadly energy blasts, Lauren's final words. The Vulcan healer helped me confront the memories that caused my mind to fall into a childlike state and to finally understand them, and let go. But not all of it. Some wounds, I knew, would always linger.

That is until I learned that Lauren was MIA and re-enlisted and joined us here on the Theurgy. The reunion was awesome! Seeing her alive brought back the trauma but this time I wasn't alone. Lauren was there."

Tessa wiped the tear from her eye. Took a swig of her drink and then cackled. "All that to say, we all have our traumas, but it's how we deal with it that matters."

-FIN

OOC - Sorry for the loooooong delay. Went ahead and "FIN" the scene as it's been on a while and ran out of steam. Also, wanted to help evolve Tessa some with my current headspace as I want her to lean into more of a 2nd in command role for the Wolves rather than a crazy pilot. Used a lot of her backstory from MIMAS and recycled some of it for this story.

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: C05: S Day 01 [1405 hrs.] Dress Shopping!

Last post by Pierce - February 13, 2025, 07:13:43 PM

[ Lt. Commander Alana Pierce | Crew Berths | Deck 1 | USS Allegiant | Aerodrome of the Erudite ] Attn: @P.C. Haring @Griff [Show/Hide]

Alana admired the other woman's beautiful attire carefully crafted on the screen with her body proportions added. Had she still been a male, the visuals would have made her think of wining and dining the Vulcan woman wearing that same Romulan attire. Granted, she was nothing to sneeze at either this past year.

Seeing Lillee's commentary unfold as Hatheev worked to complete the design, Pierce also walked up, now fully sidetracked from her earlier mission report.

"I think that looks great Hatheev. Suits you, and looks stylish as well." She gave a subtle wink and smirk, almost akin to something she'd seen Captain Kirk do as he was enthused with a given situation.

"I think once we have this outfit replicated and tried on, we should navigate to the mission report and head out. There's quite a bit we're going to have to be prepared for and hopefully, we're well equipped, garment selection aside."

Waiting until the uniform was replicated, Alana waited for the other women before proceeding onward to the mission at hand. It started out an interesting day already but she suspected that the day would get even moreso as it progressed.

-FIN

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Ep. 2: S [Day 02 | 1743 hrs] Lay Down Your Burdens

Last post by joshs1000 - February 11, 2025, 05:21:18 AM

Cmdr. (3rd) Hassar al-Zaheer | Observation Lounge 4 | Deck 15 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @chXinya
[Show/Hide]

Stars, in their multitudes, filling the darkness of space with a great orderly light. A glimpse into the past of hundreds if not thousands of years. The beauty of it served to both awe Hassar and fill him with a strange heavy sensation like anxiety at the thought of what lay beyond for as many little pinpricks of light were stars, just as many were galaxies with their own millions of stars. He hoped to one day lay down his burdens and see them before he passed into the spirit world. Hassar gazed at the stars in wonder from a floor to ceiling window of one of Theurgy’s small observation lounges that were dotted throughout the ship; a small austere room with but a couple couches that faced out the window. He had found this place as he wanted somewhere a bit more tranquil than his quarters to meditate on the day’s events and the great battle that was yet to come, but as he sat crossed legged on the floor he couldn’t help but forgo his meditation and just stare into space.

Unlike Starfleet ships, Arosan military vessels had no windows, except perhaps a small viewing port near an airlock to aid in docking; the concern that one of these windows could break and depressurize a compartment was too great. For Hassar, he didn’t see the stars for almost the first ten years of his life, and even after the only times he could see them, out the cockpit of a transport craft, through the small windows of a civilian vessel, the time to gaze upon them was always short and unsatisfying. It wasn’t until his species found their new home world that he could finally take the time to actually look up and appreciate the beauty of the heavens. It honestly boggled his mind the more he interacted with members of Starfleet how they could be so dismissive of the fact that they could so easily see the stars, but he was sure it was simply because they had had a far different relation to space than his people did.

Having originally intended to meditate he had stripped off his gear down to just his trousers, laid it on one of the couches along with his guns, and, per his cultural customs, removed his boots and left them by the door. This left him shirtless apart from a bandage wrapped around his chest and the ritualistic body paint he had applied to various parts of his body and face for meditation. Hassar shifted a little to get more comfortable with a mild wince of pain. His wounds from fighting the Romulan earlier in the day had been healed but were still pretty tender. The doctor explained that the tenderness had something to do with the instruments not being fully calibrated for his anatomy or something like that. Medicine was not his strong suit. Surprisingly though it was not the knife wound in his thigh that hurt but rather the big burn he had in the center of his chest. Turns out he had been lucky, his armor had protected him from the disruptor blast itself but the heat had melted the armor material which burned his skin. He actually hadn’t felt the burning sensation at the time, just the feeling like somebody had kicked him in the chest. At any rate, it was distracting for the purposes of meditation which required that he bring his knuckles together in front of his chest with his thumbs pressed into it; every time he twitched or breathed there would be a twinge of pain as the sensitive flesh was prodded and rubbed through his bandage.

He sighed and shook his head then gleaned back out the window, not so much at the stars this time but the spectral streaks of light that flew past. This was an artifact of warp, if he understood what he was told by a Starfleet engineer correctly, though the streaks would seem to be stars flying past they were actually light from stars and other luminous objects being distorted around the warp field as the ship moved. As much as he wasn’t an expert in medical affairs nor was he in warp either, though his people simply called it faster-than-light (FTL). Nonetheless he found the strange streaks mesmerizing to watch and he remembered back on his first trip aboard a Federation starship when he spent hours staring at them, and the stars, from out the window of his quarters.

But he could not remain staring out the window forever, he had duties to attend to before the ship reached its destination and he hoped to get some actual mediation in before he was needed elsewhere. After re-adjusting himself, Hassar took a few slow deep breaths to relax his body then closed his eyes. Slowly he brought his knuckles together in front of his chest, finding a spot that wasn’t too tender, then started to slowly inhale and exhale. His mind focussed on his breathing then gradually it drifted away into some deep recess that only Hassar could reach. He thought of nothing in particular, just took enjoyment in the peaceful silence of an empty world; there was no Theurgy nor great window of stars, no fear or anxiety, his problems were an unfathomable distance from where he was now.

Balance…

Hassar had no way of knowing how long he was in this state but the sudden familiar swish of the doors to the room broke his concentration and took him out of his tranquil state. He turned his head and torso to get a look at the newcomer as said newcomer apologized for disturbing him. Though he had the lights of the lounge turned off to allow the natural starlight to fill the space, the lights of the corridor illuminated what Hassar was pretty sure was a Andorian, the blue aliens with antennae. This one was a lighter tone than he had seen before with long hair. Even in the low light he could see that the Andorian had handsome features.

“No, it’s ok you can come in if you like”, Hassar called after the Andorian before he could leave.

I should have locked the door, he thought to himself as he turned back to the big window of stars with a small smile.

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi 2 [ D02 | 2300 hrs.] All Squared up at the Triangle

Last post by Dumedion - February 04, 2025, 09:41:26 PM

In the few short weeks out of cryo, she’d never really spent much time in the pilot’s rec room; the Den had always felt like Ghost’s stomping grounds – thick with cloying cigar smoke and synth-booze. Rawley had always been there, loitering or hunched over the pool table to greet Talia with a grin, no matter who was around.

The place seemed diminished, now.

The lights were dimmed so those who could rest at least could make an honest effort. Talia wanted so desperately to sleep, but her mind simply couldn’t be bothered to switch off – despite how tired she felt, mentally and physically. She’d never flown more than three sorties in a shift. The demands of combat were still fresh, and everything she’d seen and done had yet to be fully processed and decompressed. It was exhausting just sitting there, nursing a cup of coffee, while she tried to quiet her mind and just deal with it all. Others might have sought out the company of peers or friends, but Talia preferred the silence – it was a comfort, away from the noise of the FAB just beyond the bulkhead, a brief respite from endless readiness checklists, inspections, rearming, and most of all, the people.

She’d already noted the change in their eyes. The loss, the anger, the grief.

Some pushed it aside and carried on as if nothing had happened. Most of them. She had to remind herself that for most of the crew, this was only another combat action in a series of running combat actions ever since the Theurgy fought its way out of Sol. Six months of running combat. That was a sobering thought, one that finally punched reality home; the fact of the matter was, the odds of any of them surviving seemed laughable. A distant hope, even. Would Starfleet even accept them if they pulled it off and somehow managed to neutralize the Infested? With everything they’d done, and the unthinkable, unknowable acts to come, the idea seemed hilariously bleak.

Ghost lived that mentality; she took everything in stride, and kept on laughing. Shadow couldn’t quite understand that…nonchalant attitude. Suddenly, finally, it made sense...and then, Talia laughed; a low chuckle, despite everything, as understanding dawned in her heart and mind. Death could claim any of them at any moment, whether they did everything right or not; what mattered was living while it lasted – not chasing perfection, or worrying about what other people thought, or holding grudges against people she’d likely never see or hear from again.

Living. Just that. No more bullshit.

Shadow sat back with a sigh after setting the cold cup of coffee aside, to stretch out on the couch with a snarl of servos from her exosuit. Dark, bloodshot eyes closed, as her mind slowly blanked and slipped away into nothingness. An instant or eternity later, Talia bolted awake to another scramble order. The ship was already under fire as she strode out onto the flight deck, helm tucked under her arm…

We’re in the thick of it now, Arven grimaced as the ship shook around him; the ICU was packed to capacity, as well as the Ward down the hall. They were treating patients out in the reception area, saving space for those more grievously wounded, as well as sending everyone they couldn’t get to the smaller med-station on Vector 3.

“Hold him,” Leux nodded down at his work, as a slim pair of hands held the burnt and smoking remains of an engineer enlisted rating to the operating bed. The seemingly endless barrage of incoming fire wasn’t helping Arven's mood or operating efficiency, which had never been the Doctor’s strong suit. Fortunately, the poor bastard was unconscious, otherwise Leux was quite sure he’d be screaming in agony. There was enough of that going on around him already.

Violet eyes looked up and glanced at the chaos, before turning to the nurse across the table with weary resignation. For his life, Arven couldn’t remember her name; that didn’t stop him from cracking a tired smile, for her sake. “Just want you to know, you’re doing great,” he offered, quite sincerely, but in the usual dead-pan, cynical tone he always used.

She blinked in confusion, then nodded, as if he’d said something utterly unthinkable.

Arven just shrugged and went back to cutting the charred uniform from burnt flesh. He’d done a lot of that already, and the casualties just kept coming. “How many more are out there,” he jerked his head back and to the side without taking his eyes off his work.

“I…a lot,” the nurse hesitated. “We’re running out of room.”

Arven snorted dryly. “First time, eh? Just means we need to work faster,” he paused to rip a swath of fabric free with a grunt, then folded the rest of the man’s shirt down past his waist while the nurse pulled his trousers free. Once he was finally stripped, Leux closed the regenerative processor panels closed over his torso and left leg and activated the console.

“Short run only, we don’t have time for a full cycle. Soon as he’s done, gurney him to the ward or wherever else we have space and send in the next,” Leux nodded to her as another nurse stuck his head into the room.

“Code blue, ICU,” he shouted and disappeared.

Arven ran after him without saying another word.

[...later, shortly after the arrival of the Apache and Allegiant]
[PO2 Kino Jeen | Medbay | Upper Deck | USS Allegiant] Attn: @RyeTanker @Ellen Fitz
[Show/Hide]

She woke with a start, half-blinded by the light and pain that throbbed in time with her heart. It took a few seconds for Kino to realize where she was and remember what had happened, but she sat up anyway while the fog lifted. The Romulan was the last person she expected to see and wasn’t even on the list of people she hoped to see – but there he was, staring at her with that idiotic grin, like they were old buddies – which the Trill met by narrowing her one remaining eye in annoyance as she slid off the bed to stand.

A hand brushed over the scarred tissue where her ocular implant used to be, then continued up to ruffle through the tangled mess of silver hair with a sigh before she looked around for her weapons. They were gone.

“Where the hell’s my –“ she demanded, but was interrupted as the door opened. Kino’s head snapped around to shoot a glare at the door and the figure that leaned into the room, while the solitary medical officer left.

“Jeen,” Chief Nilsson barked as the ship shuddered around them again. “Get your ass to the armory and get geared up, we’re coming in hot. SecOps will brief you when your ready for transport.”

“What about him,” Kino nodded to the Romulan.

“He’s with you. Agans and Falvar too,” Nilsson nodded to them both, then left.

Kino popped the tension from her neck as she grabbed the bloody remains of her duty jacket and headed to the door. “Outstanding,” she grunted to herself sarcastically. “Look, you better keep up or stay out of my way. I’m not rated for babysitting senior citizens. You fall behind, it’s on you. Oh,” she turned to glance at him with a smirk, “and don’t start with the pet names, or I’ll cut your goddamn balls off.”

That said, Kino strode from the medbay out into the hall, bound for the armory.

[Moments later…]

Kino watched with a bemused expression as Falvar and Agans helped Hirek into a loaned exosuit, the chest-piece still blackened with the disruptor fire from the wound that had killed it’s previous owner during the escape from Romulus. That wasn’t what amused her though; it was the look on the Romulan’s face as he tried to keep up with the rapid-fire instructions from her team-mates as they tried to explain it’s basic combat functions and abilities.

This is probably a bad idea, she brooded, but there wasn't much for it. He lived through the Citadel, and even if he claimed to be some kind of lab-rat, Jeen knew better. He wasn't useless, and like all of his kind, he knew more than he let on. Still, she'd watch him all the same, just in case.

Kino checked the power cells on her sidearm, then slid it into the holster at her thigh and drew her blade to check its edge with a twisted flourish. The edge and balance were good, but she ran a few passes over the blade with a whetstone anyway, until the ship lurched and shook again. “Wrap it up guys,” Jeen interrupted them, stowing the blade and hefting her rifle, then opened a channel up to SecOps on the Ranger. “SecOps, Jeen. Reporting in with Team 3, plus one. Requesting sitrep and orders.”

A familiar gentle lilt came back over the comm, but it seemed drained of its emotion, as if a computer had taken over. ["SecOps acknowledges. Be advised: Commander Akoni is KIA by parties unknown, possibly Romulan or Klingon. Lieutenant zh'Wann is in pursuit of target tango 1 heading towards engineering. Profile on target tango 2 is being built with Thea at this time."] There was a pause to catch her breath. ["Head for the AI core while we generate an intercept for you."] Another pause. ["Tangos 1 & 2 are using some sort of stealth tech to conceal their movements. We can only get a partial read within five meters of active tricorders. Thea is working on cracking the stealth, but she's a bit busy at the moment too. Be careful."]

Kino arched a dark brow over the scarred patch of flesh where her eye used to be. “Jeen, solid copy,” she acknowledged, then turned to her team with a nod. “Saddle up boys, we’re moving.” The non-com paused to mag-lock her rifle to her chest-plate then donned her helm before she tapped out a series of commands on the wrist-mounted PADDs, linking her suit to theirs for tactical C&C while she led them to the transporter room.

In her helm, a miniature 3D render of the Helmet sprang into view as the suits auto-senses compensated to her limited field of vision and depth perception. Kino spoke as they walked briskly, briefing them on what she knew. “Got bogies on the Helmet wearing some fancy stealth gear; numbers unknown, objectives unknown. Deputy Ida is in pursuit, covering engineering. We’re headed to the AI core to lock it down while SecOps chews on intel; once we have their position, we close and take them out. All clear?”

“Romulans,” Falvar grunted. “Those pricks ever fight fair?”

Kino snorted and shrugged, then led them into the transporter, with a nod to the control officer. A tap of her finger opened the channel back up to SecOps. "This is Jeen. Team 3 is ready up. Awaiting beam-out to objective," she reported, once they'd all taken a spot on the pad. "Hirek's with me. You two mind the flanks," she jerked a thumb at the Romulan, then pointed to her squadmates in turn. "Eyes up, heads on a swivel. Don't let these fuckers catch us napping."

The transport officer spoke up as the ship took more hits, holding onto his console. "Coordinates received, standby for transport!"

"Let's rock," Kino grinned behind her helm, rifle held low at the ready, as the world grew bright and indistinct and her team disappeared in four columns of light.