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

Last post by Dumedion - October 07, 2024, 01:51:00 AM

While Atlas and Goldeneye conversed, Shadow busied herself by watching the holo-recording from Atlas’ helm during the sim on mute so she could multitask. Her eyes glanced up at the towering Kzin's every other word to linger long enough in an attempt to acclimate herself to his tone and body language, which was proving difficult for her to interpret; not that she was an expert in that area to begin with. Not for the first time, Talia wished she was better at being sociable and more adept at understanding it’s nuances. From his point of view, she could at least understand the confusion, however.

With a nod at Goldeneye’s praise, Talia spoke her mind; helmet shifted from under one arm to the other after she cleared the display on her wrist PADD – voice modulated with calm assertion.

“To answer your question,” she looked up at Atlas, “consider the scenario. Conventional wisdom based on historical events would necessitate an immediate request for reinforcements following positive identification and threat assessment before we bounced the hell out of the AO. Three fighters against any Borg forces would be suicide in reality, which is when I realized that Goldie was taking us for a ride, so I played along.” Talia shrugged and threw a smirk at Tessa. “One of our first sims together was similar, and we got to know each other from the experience. I’d like to say that we understand each other better for it, which is what we’re trying to do here with you, big guy. And yeah, I haven’t been here long, but I learned pretty quick to lighten up and have some fun whenever I can. Still, I learned a new maneuver from you – that attack line-up was impressive – even if it didn’t work and probably wouldn’t have worked,” she shrugged again.

At the mention of food, Talia’s dark eyes glanced down at the chrono on her wrist, then shook her head even though her stomach groaned in protest. Shadow was always hungry, even though she tried really hard not to show it.

“I’ve still got three hours before I can eat and I’d rather not get caught by Janus wandering around when he ordered me in here in the first place,” a glove raked through the mess of her hair as Talia noticed Atlas’ ears twitch with every crunch of Tessa’s popcorn, which she interpreted as annoyance.

Shadow smirked at him then jerked her head to the side towards Goldeneye.

“You get used to it eventually. So, it’s your party, what’s next,” she asked him.

OOC - sorry for delay

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: PRO: S [Day 1 | 1235 hrs] Tell Me I'm the Fairest of the Fair

Last post by joshs1000 - September 30, 2024, 03:12:26 AM

[CPO Avandar Lok | Turbolift | Deck 8 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @TWilkins
[Show/Hide]

Lok watched as the young officer continued to stumble and stammer, the anxiety Sylvain was filling the turbolift with was becoming almost crushing but Lok did his best to keep it at bay and honestly not get annoyed. Unfortunately Lok’s patience was a little thin at that moment, he had just woken up from stasis and found out all that was going on and of course just wanted to get to his quarters, change, then dive into his work. This beyond awkward officer was holding things up. At least he finally learned the guy’s name. Sylvain, it was a nice name, certainly suited this spotted one. Another moment of awkwardness ensued before Sylvain finally took Lok’s offer for a handshake only for him to seemingly suffer some sort of bout of pain or other discomfort. He released his hand at once.

“Oh shit! Kid I’m sorry!” he apologized, worried he might have squeezed too hard or perhaps got him with one of his razor sharp claws, it wouldn’t have been the first time.

Sylvain was however quick to apologize himself and explain, as best he could, what was going on.

He was some sort of psionic, which actually made a lot of sense now that he thought about it. It reminded him of some people on Betazed who had problems with their telepathy, namely that they just couldn’t turn it off, so would feel every emotion from every person around them or hear every thought and could not block it out. This was through no fault of their own but from some sort of genetic disorder, but it often left them as odd and seemingly rude when in reality they were suffering. Lok was happy that he could control his empathic abilities, he couldn’t imagine someone who couldn’t control them in his place right now with the tidal wave of emotions that this young officer was signaling to the world. With that understanding of the situation though, Lok made sure to keep his own impatience in check.

Lok’s ears shot up in excitement at the mention of Deck 10, not because he knew what was on that deck, he honestly didn’t, but because Sylvain had finally seemingly recognized that they needed to use the thing they had been standing in for the past couple minutes.

“I’m heading to Deck 14, need to get my stuff out of storage”, he responded with another smile, happy things were moving along.

His hopes were dashed and his ears drooped when Sylvain instead of saying his deck to the computer, instead asked about tea. He looked Sylvain directly in the eyes, his own feline eyes filled with a flash of hunger and anger, I should just eat this guy and put him out of my misery, his mind fleetingly thought, only to immediately feel nauseating shame wash over his entire body. He hated those thoughts, what he called “Kzinti Thoughts”, his natural urges and instincts finding their way to the surface for brief moments. They’ve only ever truly physically manifested a handful of times and each time was…violent and bloody. They seemed to be triggered by moments when he was stressed out or in certain situations; it wasn’t a surprise that this would be one of them, frustrated by his new situation, hungry, and stuck in a small space with “easy” prey. Maybe he was right to be scared of me, he silently self deprecated.

“Computer, Deck 10.”

The doors swished shut and the turbolift activated its whirring servos. Lok just felt kind of shitty now, sometimes he wished he was anything but Kzin. A Caitian perhaps? It certainly would have made his life a lot easier. It didn't help that when he had that thought his mouth started to water and now he had to subtly lick his lips and teeth to keep from drooling.

“I don’t really like tea, I prefer Earth coffee”, he finally responded, his body language was a bit more closed off than before and his friendly smile now replaced by a frown as now it was his turn to avert his gaze from Sylvain. To try and perhaps defuse the tension a little bit, after all Lok was annoyed at himself, not so much his turbolift companion, he struck up a bit of conversion once more.

“So my mother works with people with special psionic abilities on Betazed, not sure what exactly but they come from other planets and things.”

Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: Day 15 [0823 hrs] Starships Aplenty

Last post by tongieboi - September 28, 2024, 12:55:55 PM

[ Ensign Joseph Adams |Holodeck 03 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Pierce ]

A slight bashful grin and perhaps a small flush of his own at the compliment, Joe nodded at her complement. Very satisfied with how he looked, he followed her towards the ship and inside. Paying no mind to the signs yet somehow finding his way to the bridge anyway.

Brown eyes keenly took in every detail of their surroundings, as if this was his first time aboard a starship, before they settled on the door ahead, wooshing open to reveal the bridge of the Enterprise,

Joe sauntered inside, drawn to the familiar sight of an Ops console, albeit with less touchpads and more physical controls in their place. He almost missed the idea, there was something strangely satisfying about buttons and dials that touchscreens didn't quite replace. Where Theurgy was a sleek and elegant design, as much a work of art as she was functional the Enterprise was a product of her time. Antiquated and retro to some, solely functional, but by no means any less elegant than her many times great granddaughters. All one had to do was look deeper than the aesthetics alone.

At Lauren's voice, he looked up and turned around suddenly, shook out of his thoughts, he'd already started fiddling with the controls of the ship. They wouldn't do anything anyway, right?

"Don't mind if I do, Captain Pierce!"

He replied, smirking back and walking towards the Captain's seat. She'd given him the rank of Captain, despite his uniform, so he decided to return the favour.

It was strangely smaller than he expected, not exactly cramped but certainly not as large as a lot of the other chairs he'd sat in. The arms of the chair might've been why, they protruded from the bottom of the seat and made quite a blocky shape. His arms could go nowhere except the armrests, which themselves had small control panels upon them.

The second he sat down in the chair, a small part of him felt like an imposter, but it was very much dwarfed by the fact that he was sitting in the Captain's Chair of the Enterprise. Holographic recreation or not, it was still awesome!

"It's less comfortable than I expected."

He mused with a small grin before kicking off with his feet and spinning the chair around, getting a good look at the bridge as he rotated in its centre in a manner unbecoming of a Starfleet Captain.

Main OOC Board / Re: Main OOC Thread

Last post by joshs1000 - September 28, 2024, 03:03:42 AM

Hey just letting everyone know because of the hurricane my power is out and it might be a couple days before it's back online. So I'll be unable to post until then.

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Ch 4: S Day 01 [2325 hrs.] Awkwardness with Archon

Last post by Griff - September 27, 2024, 10:51:29 PM

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt | Hangar | Erudite ] Attn. @Eden

[Show/Hide]

After a full day of work and preparation for the coming battle, Alistair had one more job to do. The corridors were less crowded than before, with most of the Starfleeters trying to get some sleep, giving the Savi corridors an unsettling feel to walk through alone. The vast hangar did have a trio of people chatting next to a shuttle, although they briefly stopped, looking at Alistair in askance. He waved them off, and they resumed their chat. Alistair was going to someone else.

Sure enough, Lieutenant Velin was with the fighters, apparently working on something or another. Alistair considered offering to help, just as a way to connect with Velin, but realised that he'd be useless. He didn't know anything about Valkyries, after all. Instead, as the pilot noticed his approach, Alistair raised a hand in greeting, even trying for a smile, but it was half-hearted. It was, after all, hard to be jovial the night before a suicide mission, as it surely would be.

"Hi," Alistair said. "Do you have a minute to talk, Lieutenant?"

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Chapter 1: The (hopefully) Great Romulan Smash and Grab [Day 1 | 1800hrs ]

Last post by Sqweloookle - September 27, 2024, 08:02:25 PM

[ Lieutenant JG Adam Kingston | Romulan Secret Disease and Weapons Research Space Station #2, ha not good enough to be #1 clearly since we found it | 24lyrs from Romulus ] attn: @Ellen Fitz @RyeTanker @P.C. Haring @Stegro88 @Hans Applegate @Dree @Number6 @Nesota Kynnovan

It wasn’t long before the Red team ran into resistance—an ambush, Adam having spotted the enemy first. He fired his phaser rifle at the cover the Romulan squad were peeking out from what looked like a corridor's T-section, green plasma beams sliced through the air with a loud sizzle for plasma produced heat filling the corridor. The Starfleet officers were in an X-section about 20 metres away.

They scattered, diving into cover just as the Romulan fire intensified. Oddly, the side corridors were empty—no Romulans in sight. Perhaps this part of the station hadn’t received reinforcements yet. A small mercy, but they all knew it wouldn’t last. "Kennedy, Patterson, cover the sides!" Adam ordered, his voice tight with adrenaline. Chief Petty Officer Helena Prince was already securing the rear, her body language appeared steady as she had her weapon ready. As for Adam, he and Crewman Petra Vansen fell into a rhythm, exchanging bursts of phaser fire with the Tal'Shiar guards ahead. Lieutenant J.G. Vince Kennedy and Petty Officer Second Class Riley Patterson soon found their own exchanges of fire.

There came several chirps from combadges as the crossfire went wild and Romulans on the side corridors fell to friendly fire. Adam heard Patterson and Kennedy announce enemy fire hitting their own forces in the opposite corridors. Adam grinned at this as he and Vansen continued to fire rapidly at what appeared to be the main entry for reinforcements.

This allowed their team leader Amarik some leeway to plan their next move, though time was kind of against them as more and more plasma beams joined in the fray. Adam stole a glance toward Valyn, who seemed to be holding her ground. Then, from the corner of his eye, he spotted movement—a new wave of Romulans advancing from Kennedy’s position. Adam’s pulse quickened, his mind torn between the logic of survival and the reckless urge to break through the advancing Romulan lines. Maybe it was a bad idea and they should stay together, he mused, without a second thought, Adam darted toward Kennedy. He could feel his heart racing as he moved, a green beam emitting strong heat and light blazed only a few centimetres in front of his face. He could feel the heat, smell the burn of ozone as it singed his face. His vision blurred as he blinked away the light.

He was lucky Kennedy caught Adam as he fell onto the other officer. Kennedy used the flow of the Master-at-arms momentum to shift around and place Adam against the corridor wall. Another few phaser shots from Kennedy down the corridor he was watching and there was a lull in the action.

"Kennedy we have to push forward!" Adam stated, though they were the same rank but he could feel Kennedy's hand on his shoulder.

"Your face L.T." Vince said firmly as the plasma beams continued to blaze by from other corridors which had countering phaser beams blasted back at their source.

"It'll pass," Adam said blinking rapidly to clear his eyes though it hurt to do so. The sting and scent of the burn was sharp, but his focus remained on the enemy. He could barely see Kennedy’s concern in between the chaos of their counterattack at the Tal'Shiar guards. "Kennedy we must push them back and get out of here, switch to a wide beam and fire." Adam said.

Kennedy seemed to think it might be a good way to clear an escape route for the others so nodded. "Let's do it."

Both adjusted their weapons in sync, and Kennedy's multiple beams cut through the corridor. Seven Romulans, clustered together, were caught in the crossfire. Five went down immediately. Adam grinned, fired thankfully with the wide beam setting, didn't have to see his targets clearly, and the remaining two collapsed in a heap. Both Adam and Kennedy sat back to take stock of the other corridors' situations.

“Patterson! Prince! Wide beam!” Adam called, and they quickly followed suit, eliminating the enemy from their respective directions. Vansen’s quick switch forced the Romulans into retreat. For the first time in minutes, they had time to breathe.

Adam's hands were nearly about to rub his face but Patterson was already at his side and stopped his hands in hers.

”No, don't rub the burn. Let me run the regenerator on your eyes.” Patterson told Adam, her voice steady despite the tension. The dermal regenerator hummed as she passed it over his eyes, the sting easing enough to give some relief. It was quick and dirty as Adam thanked her, his face still felt hot, aching and tight. Patterson, already glancing back down the corridor she was watching, didn’t miss a beat. ”Any chance we can move forward?” Thankfully she saw no one.

"That is up to Lieutenant Amarik," Adam replied, he then turned to Valyn. "Lieutenant, I suggest we split up, we could slip by the enemy and do some damage?"

For the life of him Adam couldn't fathom why they didn't hear it coming, a beast of monstrous characteristics, barrelled out from the corridor that their team were heading into. With a wide, dripping with saliva, jagged teeth filled maw closing down over Amarik's head and upper torso, the creature body slammed Lieutenant Valyn Amarik to the ground. Time seemed to slow down for the Red team as they watched the beast's mouth mercilessly clamp down. A sickening crunch echoed through the corridor and the Starfleet officers.

Blood and intestinal bits splashed all over the floor and splattered on each of the Red team members. The combination of the wet slap of the blood making contact with their skin and the metallic tang scented wave of death assaulted them all--for what felt like forever but merely a moment, they froze. The horror of it all was paralysing, but training kicked in. Adam, Vansen, and Prince instinctively grabbed Patterson and Kennedy. They locked eyes for a brief second, wordlessly agreeing on what had to be done: Run! Thankfully Patterson had come to Adam's side to treat him otherwise, he realised she'd be on the other side of the beast as it fed on their team leader effectively cutting her off from them.

Adam, still watching the beast as it tore into Valyn’s body, reached out to each of his teammates and half gestured half pushed for the team to move--fast. They sprinted down Kennedy's corridor, the Master-at-arms covering their retreat. Tears blurred his vision as he whispered a silent farewell to Valyn. He brought his phaser rifle to aim, and he fired directly into the beast’s face at full power for several seconds. He prayed his attack would slow it down allowing him to catch up with his team.

A deafening roar came at his back. The beast recoiled, but it wasn’t following which a glance over his shoulder revealed. That was the only good news as Adam ran, his heart heavy and his legs carrying him away from the carnage.

OOC: I talked with ellenfitz about killing Valyn Amarik and they gave me the go ahead for this. RIP Valyn.

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Ch 2: S [D01 | 1642hrs] The Spare Tire

Last post by joshs1000 - September 27, 2024, 12:08:36 AM

[Somewhere in Romulan Space…]
The betentacled drone leapt onto the hull of the Oaarian Ark, its deadly claws poised to tear into it and end the lives of those within. Suddenly from above and ahead to the port of the Ark, came a pair of missiles that streaked in and detonated a few dozen meters away from the squid-like infernal machine. The blasts were not enough to do real damage, specifically to the Ark itself beyond shrapnel, scorch marks, and a bit of shock. No, the intention was to get the Drone’s attention, and to further back this up two more missiles followed their previous counterparts and again detonated a few dozen meters from the Drone. Their trails led back up to a ship that almost resembled some boxy submarine with nacelles on the back, it was stark contrast to the streamlined Starfleet fighters and whale-like Conclave Arks that found themselves in peril from this seemingly unstoppable squid. No sooner had this vessel made its presence known did a new voice crackle over the comms, the voice was deep with a strong and almost Middle Eastern sounding accent.

[Federation vessels, this is the Arosan ship, Xebrek. We are here to assist, let us take some of this work off your hands.]

Cmdr. (3rd) Hassar al-Zaheer | Control Room | Deck 2 | Xebrek XA-30] Attn: @Dumedion @rae @Havenborn
[Show/Hide]

[Earlier…]
Tired green eyes scanned over swaths of maps, sensor data, and vague reports; the pieces of a puzzle that may reveal nothing. To the Vaharran assembling the puzzle, Hassar al-Zaheer, every piece brought him one step closer in finding his son. He had spent two months now, crisscrossing the sector trying to find any definitive evidence; a long time for some, but to Hassar and his crew it was nothing new, they had all been born in space and lived most of their lives in cramped spaceships like the Xebrek. Two months with full bellies, their own bed, and equipment that didn’t break was practically a luxury cruise compared to where they were sixteen years ago. If anything the true frustration was the lack of any true clues as to what happened to the Ibn Lau, a ship that carried not just Hassar’s son but over a hundred other Vaharrans bound for Vulcan and Earth. All they had was some odd energy readings and the repeated insistence from Starfleet, who refused to help locate the missing crew, that some rogue ship of theirs, the USS Theurgy, had to be responsible. Yet, as time went on, with little to no clues found, and a closer scrutiny of the reports on the Theurgy by Hassar and his officers, the more they became suspicious of this story; but they still had to find the rogue Starfleet ship either way, if not to fight them then to ask them if they knew anything about their missing people.

The problem was, where to look for them, it was a big quadrant and unlike their massive neighbors, the Romulans, the Klingons, and the Federation, the Vaharran people of the Arosan Republic did not have massive intelligence networks or an endless supply of contacts. They had to go off of hearsay, subspace chatter, and a good deal of guesswork. Currently they were looking near the Romulan border based on some intercepted Klingon transmissions. Several hours before their long range sensors also picked up the energy signature of a large amount of warp plasma and an unknown radiation, altering course to investigate. While there was the possibility that this was a Romulan vessel they could not afford to pass this anomaly over, it could have been a ship damaged by an attack from Theurgy.

Hassar leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and running his hands over his ridged cranium, tracing his fingers across the prominent feature in a sort of therapeutic massage. To find the right grain of sand in the desert, he mused to himself. This thought was interrupted by the sound of the buzzer of his coms phone. He opened his eyes once more and with a weary grunt reached for the handset and put it up to his ear. “This is the Commander”, he answered.

“Control Room here, we are picking up what we think is a distress call, pretty close by”, said the unmistakable voice of his executive officer, Lieutenant Adahn al-Soniin.

“Very well, alter course and continue monitoring, I’m on my way.”

Hassar hung up the phone then rose from his desk, perhaps our hunch was right and Theurgy was attacking ships in the sector. With time being a bit of a factor in potential rescue missions Hassar wasted no time in moving about his cabin to collect his uniform then head to the control room. It took but a few minutes to get fully dressed but even with the urgency he still took a moment to check himself in the mirror to ensure that his uniform, which clung pleasingly and tightly to his muscular body, was in good order and not sloppy, something he expected from all those serving under him as it showed discipline. After a slight adjustment to his collar, Hassar grabbed his logbook and was out the door. A brisk walk down the narrow corridor; which at one time would have been crammed to the rafters in crates, cots, and people; up an access ladder to the deck above, down another corridor, and he arrived in the control room.

Perpetually cramped, the control room of the frigate Xebrek was arranged in two rows of consoles: the forward ones were for things like maneuvering, engineering, navigation, and other systems; while the aft consoles were for the command staff, tactical, sensors, communications, and weapons. Lit by a combination of fluorescent light and the multitudes of computer monitors the control room was staffed by a little over a dozen officers and crew, far less than the original dozens required across two other plotting rooms and a combat information center before the retrofit, the benefits of isolinear computer technology.

Other than basic pleasantries, once Hassar arrived it was straight to the business at hand. Lieutenant al-Soniin played back the distress call. The message was pretty clear, a group of civilian ships were under attack from an unknown assailant. Hassar, Al-Soniin, and Lieutenant al-Fanata, the current officer of the deck, took a moment to discuss the approach they wished to take, if the attacker was truly Theurgy, then Xebrek, despite her Klingon upgrades, would not stand a chance in a direct flight, they would have to rely on the element of surprise to perhaps wound Theurgy, or whoever was attacking, enough to make them back off or disable them. It would have to be a quick, sharp, and precise action. Having agreed on their next move, Hassar took his station at the main command console in the middle of the back row.

“I have the conn”, he announced concisely to the room followed by confirmation from Lieutenant al-Farata, “The Commander has the conn.”

“Helm, new course 0-9-2 mark 3-5-5, engines to maximum FTL factor.”

“Yes Commander, come right to 0-9-2 pitch down to 3-5-5, engaging maximum FTL factor”, affirmed the officer of the deck as he monitored the two helmsmen carrying out the order.

“XO bring the ship to combat condition.”

“Very well commander”, responded Al-Soniin who then picked up the handset at his console and made a broadcast to the entire ship, [This is the XO, all hands to combat stations, all hands to combat stations.]

“Tactical, scan the area of the distress call, start plotting all units in the area, friendly or otherwise, I want a complete tactical picture before we come out of FTL.”

The tactical officer acknowledged and got to work. Meanwhile there was a flurry of movement and conversation as those crew coming off duty took their stations for combat, filling the already cramped space of the control room further still. As this went on, Hassar wrote down his actions in his log and monitored the status of his various orders. The ship was now up to its maximum speed, the slight vibration in the deck at his feet punctuating this, and on course to the coordinates given by the distress call, weapons systems reported fully powered, and each deck relayed its status one after the other. Finally the XO reported, “Commander, ship reports ready for combat.”

“Very well.”

As they approached the tactical picture became more clear and yet their mission as a whole proved more cloudy. Several Starfleet fighters entered the area claiming they were from the starship Theurgy, revealing that they were not the attacker and casting more doubt on Starfleet’s claim that these were some band of sick, murderous, pirates. While one could perhaps have argued that this was some ruse by the Theurgy to take the civilian ships off guard but this was quickly put to rest when the true assailant appeared. The Xebrek was still too far out to assist as one Starfleet fighter was destroyed and another damaged, but disaster was only averted for those remaining by the timely arrival of more Starfleet craft.

With seconds before dropping out of warp, the assailant, now identified as some sort of squid-like drone, charged down and latched itself onto one of the civilian ships. Hassar made a snap call for four missiles to be fired upon dropping out to hopefully distract the thing away from destroying the civilian ship. The Xebrek entered the combat zone and loosed its missiles, detonating them a few dozen meters away from the squid as Hassar announced their presence.

[Present…]
Hassar stowed the handset, no further communications were necessary at the moment until they were fully stuck into the fight. He looked up at the screen showing the tactical plot, a circular, radar-like, image showing all the various contacts in the area and their status; with the squid having released its smaller drones a lot more red was now on the screen. Ge glanced to the screen next to it showing a view from the external cameras of the main Drone attached to the hull of the large civilian vessel. We gotta get that thing away from them.

“Helm, right sharply to 1-2-0, engines all ahead flank! Weapons, release four more missiles, same pattern and as soon as that thing gets off that civilian ship, open up on it with the main guns.”

Let’s see if these Klingon upgrades have given the old boy some teeth, he thought to himself as his orders were acknowledged and carried out. He did have some right to be concerned about how well his ship would fare, the Xebrek was built over three centuries ago over the Old World, still in good condition on account of its sturdy construction, but three centuries was still three centuries. Hopefully the shields and structural integrity fields that the Klingon engineers had installed would keep it together. In the meantime they had a whole battery of disruptor cannons, photon torpedoes, ship to ship missiles, and even some nukes, to throw at the Drone.

The Xebrek swung out to present its broadside and unmasked its stern battery which took aim at the Drone, ready to blast it back to wherever it came from. The fight was not over yet but perhaps the timely arrival of the Vaharrans would swing the odds in Starfleet and the Conclave’s favor.

OOC: Here is a link to the specification of the Xebrek. Hassar's goal is to try to force The Drone away from the Conclave ships and keep it their until they escape or it is destroyed.

Main OOC Board / Re: Main OOC Thread

Last post by JacenSoloDjo - September 26, 2024, 09:57:31 PM

Kids are officially coming to my museum again now that school is in full swing! (Not a lot yet so I won't be too busy with that but busy enough it requires me keeping people updated.)

I'm still around for plotting, though. Seriously, I love plotting. Not super detailed, just a general point A to B is good. I like getting a fair idea of something and then letting my characters tell me how things will be reacted to.

(I gave up on trying to find a place for Kath in the first big chapter 3 thread.)

High Holy Days start October 2nd and end on October 12th. Because of the nature of the holidays and my being in the choir, as I mentioned my attention will be elsewhere and won't be very good at writing and such. But feel free to leave messages and when I have the energy I'll get to them.

Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Chapter 4: Eating Savi Crow? [Day 1 |1815 hours]

Last post by Griff - September 25, 2024, 10:34:30 PM

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt | Laboratory | Erudite ] Attn. @Eirual @Brutus

[Show/Hide]

Barpin was silent for a long moment, looking down at Mia with unblinking black eyes. "This was not part of the agreement," he said coldly. "The information that you have been provided will be sufficient for your attack, and to find the solar observatory. A deeper understanding of the culture of my race is irrelevant for this objective."

Alistair made to step up, but a sharp look from Barpin froze him in place. "Look...uh..." he said, struggling to find the words, "you brought us on this mission because we know war. We have experience with it that you lack. In battle, unexpected events can occur that force us to adapt or...well, die. Even the smallest detail can change the course of a battle. We're only talking about a little more-"

"More?" Barpin interrupted. His voice was as placid as before, his body still, but there was no denying the weight of is glare on the trio. "We give you quantum slipstream, and you want more. We agree to risk our lives in battle alongside you, and you want more. We give you a primer on our culture, and you want more. We are breaking our highest law by revealing ourselves to inferior species, a law older than your civilisation, and you want more."

Alistair glanced at Mia and Faye, painfully conscious of how close to the line they were getting. "Er...uh...well, yes," Alistair said with a defeated shrug. "Please."

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

Last post by Pierce - September 25, 2024, 05:15:02 PM

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

Alana Pierce stood at the doorway, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she took in the scene before her. The tension in the room was palpable, but she knew just how to diffuse it.

“Well, this is certainly an interesting way to start a briefing,” she remarked, her tone light and teasing. She stepped further into the room, her presence commanding attention without demanding it. “No offense taken, Hathev. I appreciate your flexibility.”

She watched as Hathev continued to undress, her movements precise and unhurried. Alana admired the Vulcan’s composure, even in such an unexpected situation. “Lillee, I think Hathev’s got the right idea. Functionality and comfort are key, but there’s no harm in looking good while we’re at it.” She winked as she still thought of how she was also adjusting to showing off her form more and of course the Romulan prosthesis.

Alana moved to the console, her fingers dancing over the controls as she brought up the mission parameters. “Let’s focus on the task at hand. We need to be prepared for anything, and that includes being adaptable in our attire.”

She glanced back at Hathev, a smile playing on her lips. “And no, I wasn’t expecting you to protest. In fact, I think you’re handling this remarkably well.”

As Hathev continued to change, Alana couldn’t help but be intrigued by the Vulcan’s choice of attire and the way it accentuated her form. The fitted cut of the uniform highlighted Hathev’s lean, athletic build, a testament to her disciplined lifestyle. Alana’s eyes lingered momentarily.

She refocused her efforts while waiting for Lillee's response on her own attire. "Now, let’s get down to business and make sure we’re ready for whatever comes our way.”

With that, Alana tried to turn slightly rosy cheeks and her attention fully to the mission briefing, her mind already working through the various scenarios they might encounter. She knew that with a team like this, they could handle anything the universe threw at them.