Terry spat out his food at everything he heard. "Damn Iconians! I almost lost the Kitana during the war. I'd be out there fighting the Na'Khul to let off the steam if I wasn't stuck here on some psych eval."
He received perplexed looks.
"Oh, it's nothing. Just standard stuff I'm scheduled for. Though, having fought the Iconian War here does make me a little uneasy at being here. Not to mention their world sounds a lot like ours?" He shakes his head to dismiss it. "Nah. Anyway, I have a meeting with Commander Lucrecia. I'll look out for you guys later."
Terry got up and put his tray in the food decompilers.
rattler2Member, Star Trek Online ModeratorPosts: 58,677Community Moderator
Krystal blinked at Terry's outburst before focusing again on Nat.
"Guess the war's been hard on all of us," she said. "After Lae'nas III... I was more than a little scared. I also couldn't help but think of the future and... well... what I missed out on."
I can't take it anymore! Could everyone just chill out for two seconds before something CRAZY happens again?!
The nut who actually ground out many packs. The resident forum voice of reason (I HAZ FORUM REP! YAY!)
normal text = me speaking as fellow formite colored text = mod mode
"Yeah, it's affected everyone. Trust me though, after seeing what the Heralds did on New Romulus, I too was pretty shaken."
Winning.
It's what I do. It's what I just did. It's what I'm about to do again. It's being undisputed emperor of an empire that cannot be disproved as the most powerful intergalactic empire in the entire universe; I always win, and everything I've won will definitely be won again... by me. It's my signature move, and thus, it's my signature. Problem, Sonic? Yeah, I mean you, Sonic, because you're being beat up, despite your being super. You can't even hit Shadow back, can you? Nope, he's too strong for you. Of course, I'm not Shadow, I'm the Super Emerald fueled fox that's pulling the strings; trust me, the fight would only be a few frames long if I were in it personally. Oh, and here's something for all you guys thinking you can win Last Post Wins 3.0; trust me, I'll be around a long while after the sun has already consumed the Earth while I sit out with the forum servers on Titan. Yes, I mean Titan... that comparatively little moon orbiting Saturn. It's a nice little place in a version of our solar system where the sun is a lot bigger. I mean, Mars will last longer than your precious Earth, but by then, it'll be one hot planet... and I figure Saturn's moon will be about the right temperate for a super-powered warlord. Oh, and trust me, I packed a lot of rings, and I mean a lot. Trillions, in fact, so I'll never run out of rings to power my super form. Besides, if I start to run out, I can just chaos control more rings into my reach. It's quite easy, really. You should try it. Granted, you'll never have the 7 Super Emeralds that I have in my possession, nor the Master Emerald that I've got hidden away somewhere... absorbed into my body thanks to Sonic logic, but whatever. I win. Again. I'm not kidding, either. Just check Last Post Wins, and if the last post isn't mine, it soon will be. Very, very soon. You can count on it. Seriously. By the way, if you're wondering, there's a really great Super Tails sprite sheet out there... somewhere... by some guy named shadow_91. These sprites are really great. Like, really good. Quality. Just like what I like to see in a sprite sheet. Also, credit to Joe T.E., his Sonic Battle style Super Sonic sprites have a great palette for a Super Sonic being beat up by Super Shadow, who's palette is from a Super Shadow sheet of unknown origin, but it turns out they were "borrowed" from a better sheet made by a certain Domenico. Oh, and the gif is actually a custom made super version of a similar gif, of which there are only 3 or 4 copies to be found by Google, and even then, evidently of an unknown source. Yep, it's one of those things. Stuff people have made, spread around, only for it to vanish and you to be the only person who still has a copy, not even knowing where it came from... like, literally at all. Oh, and anyone notice that Shadow's little chaos snap blast thingies are red and blue now? Yeah, I changed it. Problem, fans of purple? Yeah, I know you got a problem with that one, but you can just deal with it. After all, according to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly... alright, alright, I'll spare you the entire Bee Movie script, just Google it if you want. By the way, ever wonder how your characters would've ended up if they evolved in another universe? Yeah, that. Think about it. Ok, so you probably didn't bother reading up to here, but whatever, here's a surprise for you guys over at ESD (RP) who were crazy enough to read this: Emperor Nat of the mcfreakin' Terran Empire is gonna be right all along! The universe is gonna go BOOM! *Thumbs up to the insanity*
Oh, now don't tell me you want in on all this! Well, ok. Look this that Egg Pawn hanging outside your window, pointing his laser rifle at you, waiting for my next order. He's doing his part. He helps conquer the weak-minded. He roboticizes the weak-bodied. Heck, he even helps keep the useless people from causing any trouble, but you know what? Join. Find the closest Nataran Empire roboticization center near you and join the ranks, before the ranks find you. Oh, I know, you figure it must be so satisfying to know I basically rule the world now, and you know what? It is, but do you want to know the true definition of satisfaction? Well, let me tell you a little story. One day, you see a brand new event. They're giving out boxes that give old event stuff. Your dilithium is plentiful. You buy a whole lot of Phoenix packs on your main, and open them all. You get one epic token. Then, you decide, that since you have all the Breen ships and don't give a damn about the others, you exchange it for an ultra rare, and grab yourself a Jem'Hadar Attack Ship and for the hell of it, a Voth Bulwark. You open both, leaving the Bulwark in your vast masses of starships as you jump into the bugship and deck it out, deck by deck, into the most awesome Jem'Hadar ship you can. You fly it. You enjoy it. Eventually, you get bored and leave, leaving the old Bulwark never flown... until later. Your main is long complete. Your new alt main, based off some character you pulled out of nothing just to explain away some starship being in service without the command of your dear admiral, is also complete. Mostly. Their reps and doffs are hard at work, getting you stuff. You realize the potential, and head back for your dear admiral, pull the most Voth themed build you can out of thin air, and suit up in your giant ship in the shape of you know what. You head out... and cause all sorts of havoc. Enemies scream out your name as their very life is drained away by your swarms of Aceton Assimilators. They complain to the devs of your OPness when you revive yourself from death every time you die. Do you show any form of mercy? No. After all, this isn't the United Federation of Planets, this is mother frakkin' Starfleet, where you explore strange new worlds and kick butt never kicked before. Oh, and you realize that I just wrote another speech rivaling your own signature. Cool. Oh, wait, that's just the original draft, it is part of my signature now. Oh, and yes, I am aware that I have become a Canadian Regent; one day, sooner than you'd expect, we'll suddenly decide to take over the world and declare an "alliance", and I shall become it's Regent. You know, like the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance in the mirror universe of our beloved Star Trek. Oh, who'll we be taking over with? I dunno, maybe [REDACTED], or maybe aliens from outer space. Guess you'll have to wait and find out, won't we? Until then, don't ask too many questions, or else my Breen allies on Titania might pick up on your -- [REDACTED BY BREEN CONFEDERACY FOR REASONS] Also, psst... keep an eye out for flying Tribbles! Also walls. Big, great walls, separating entire continents apart. Walls patrolled by Tribbles. Flying Tribbles. Flying Nukara Tribbles. Don't worry, it's not like they were on Venus with a herd of Tholians or anything, they just like the extreme heat and brutal weather like acid rain and hurricane force winds as the norm. Oh, and definitely keep your eye out on any two-tailed foxes, because if they ain't glowing, they're definitely an imposter. Possibly an Undine, we caught one of those once in my place once. Oh, and if you find a two-tailed fox that doesn't like the cold... most certainly ask him to say sorry. If he refuses, DESTROY HIM WITH A DOOMSDAY MACHINE, BECAUSE THERE'S NOTHING ELSE THAT WOULD BE ENOUGH AGAINST SUCH AN OVERPOWERED IMPOSTER!
tr;dr, I am winning last post wins 3.0. Thank you for your time.
Aeris exited the security office, sifting through a PADD. It had been a long, grueling meeting; one she was unable to steer to her favour for the life of her. As she walked, she was joined in stride with one of her Bridge officers from the Zephyra.
"Perfect timing, I see?" Aeris said.
Wendy shrugged her shoulders. "I walked by three times trying to anticipate your exit. So, how'd it go?"
"Starfleet somehow suspects a terrorist presence in the sector and they want me to assist in station security while I'm here. I'm just to look out for anything out of the ordinary and basically be paranoid for them."
The officer rolled her eyes. "Uh, it's a space station. There are always things out of the ordinary."
"No, but there was this one, odd feeling I got just as I was leaving the Food Court earlier. It felt... almost threatening," Aeris drifted into thought.
Lieutenant Wendy glanced at Aeris. "Any idea who it was?"
"I'm scrolling through a list of officers from ships docked at Spacedock to see if they'll jog my memory. It's a long list. Anyway, how are things on your end?"
The other Human sighed. "Slow. I don't know what those Iconian probes from the War injected into the systems on Spacedock's lower decks, but they won't let go."
"Well, we're on to other enemies now, so hurry it up. One less reason for the Zephyra to be stuck here, the better."
Wendy nodded and walked in another direction. Suddenly, a voice chirped through the comms, from an unknown security officer. "Security to Captain Aeris. An ID code set off some red flags in Cargo Bay 7. We have a Romulan Centurion down here. Can you come check it out?"
Lieutenant Elihu M'Konel and Centurion Lydia M'Konel, the club
By the time Lydia had shown up to the club five minutes later, her emotionally sensitive nephew was sitting alone in a dark corner. His head was buried in his arms on the table. He almost appeared to be in some physical pain, but Lydia knew better. She stood in front of the table, knowing that he was aware of her presence, but he didn't budge. She glanced around...
There weren't too many people in the club, maybe a dozen now. It had died down a bit, and the lumination was a little brighter. Lydia reached for the chair opposite Elihu, but then stopped and sighed.
The sigh was enough to bring his head up. Elihu blinked and smiled blearily. “'Bout time.”
“I'm early.”
“By like ten seconds. Usually you're at least fifty percent early.”
Lydia smirked and shook her head. “Done behaving like a child?” She pulled the chair back noisily along the floor and sat down in it.
Elihu winced at the noise, but the ire in his countenance was because he knew she had done it intentionally. “Ugh, just get to reporting already.” He rubbed his temples.
“Everything's good,” his chief engineer and acting-XO reported. “Since they're quantum-shielded and dimensionally phase-cloaked, we won't ever have to worry about anyone finding them.”
The acting-captain nodded thoughtfully. “Good. Glad I could help.” He leaned back in his chair and stared out at a slow-dancing couple...
Three Months Earlier...
In the privacy of their quarters on the Philadelphia, Elihu and his fiance slow-danced to one of their favorite song, “Unsteady” by X-Ambassadors. He wore a tank top and shorts while she was donned in a blue Starfleet science uniform with an ensign's pip. The woman was barely 19, almost a decade younger than the 28-year-old tactical officer. She had long and curly bright red hair, mildly freckled pale skin, expressive green eyes, and was about eight inches shorter than the man.
In a thick Irish accent, she whispered, “Have you read The Tragedy of an Empath?”
Elihu smiled. No, he replied emotionally. He preferred it. It was easier. Then he said, “But I've heard of it.”
The girl smiled as she removed her face from his chest and looked up at him. She said, “It's a visual novel written by a human.”
“What would a human know about empathy, Talitha?” he scoffed, smirking down at her. Hurt. “I – I'm sorry, Tali,” he said, feeling her pain. “I know you know...”
He felt her almost back away, but didn't. Talitha said, “I am not the only empathic human, Eli. I am not the only person in the galaxy who can understand you.”
Elihu cradled his fiance. I am sorry, my Young Lady.
Burying her face in his neck again, a warm smile grew across her face. Precious silent seconds passed, save for the song. She nuzzled him, tickling his freshly shaven chin with her hair. He giggled and lightly pushed her away. Talitha gradually crept her fingers up his side. Raucous laughter burst forth from Elihu as he squirmed from her touch and shoved her away. No!
Oh, don't you run from me, my dear!Complete. Trust. Adoration. Joy.
She made the face of an evil old witch as she raised her hands in claw-like gestures and projected pure emotion at him. Elihu chuckled and found himself trapped in the bathroom.
Wait a minute, why am I running from a five-foot teenage girl?
Elihu turned and caught Talitha's wrists as she charged into the bathroom after him. She screamed and laughed.
Because I'm gonna getcha! And you know you can't resist me!
“Oh really?” He pushed Talitha backward out of the bathroom and playfully threw her onto their bed. “Ha! Now what, Young Lady!” He pinned her there.
She pouted. “No fair...You have all that Vulcan strength...” ...and Betazoid charm.
The chirp of the woman's comm-badge interrupted their play: “Armory to M'Konel!”Extreme panic.
Elihu's irritation was immediately halted when he sensed the terror in the woman's voice on the other end. He pressed the badge on Talitha's chest. She perked a brow at his courage before softly kneeing him off her. However, she too recognized the situation and was already going for their personal sidearms in the drawer of the nightstand by their bed.
“Go ahead, Lrann,” said Elihu, throwing on his uniform.
“Lieutenant H'Rekthar just pulled a phaser rifle on me! Elihu –!”
“Elihu!” Lydia M'Konel barked at her nephew as he daydreamed.
Back in the club
“What?” he answered, barely looking at her.
Lydia glared at him. “You went back there, didn't you? I told you...” She calmed herself, knowing the terrible emotional memory Elihu was repressing. “I told you, Acting-Captain, we need you at peak efficiency, or I'll be forced to relieve you of duty. You know I don't want to do that...Sir.”
Lieutenant M'Konel grinned at the Centurion's abrupt professionalism. He said, “Let's get back to the Phili before we get arrested.”
Exiting Cargo Bay 7, Aeris was met with a Commander Reeve from station security. "Pleasure to have you with us, Captain."
"Uh, it would be if I didn't get a fake-out in that Cargo Bay. You guys didn't even apprehend anyone."
Reeve put his hands up in defense. "We're not here to make speciest accusations. But the ID code we received checked through 4 of our 5 security decoders-- Nothing to bat an eye at, but we were told to keep a watch out for anything. And I mean anything. Yesterday we spent a whole afternoon debating and examining an unknown mass collection of alien fibers. Turned out to be Caitian."
"You know, I'm not much for the finer points of security, but I do know command. Using my powers of expecting people to do what I require, I expect you assist me with what is required in security. That includes not wasting time on hairballs."
The other officer crossed his arms in agreement. "I won't lie and say we didn't learn a lot from that, in terms of biology, but we do need to answer to the higher-ups on our suspect-intel. Especially to Sulu. He's always on our case."
"He was on leave for while. Glad he's back," she commented. "Now. Let's go to Club 47, where our Romulan 'friend' was last seen headed."
Reeve interrupted his own thought-process. "Did you just do the 'friend' air-quote thing?"
"Yeah, I just realized I did. I order that to be accepted as non-cliché. Also, pilots being medics."
Club 47
Entering the semi-energetically active social realm, Aeris could almost feel her desire for Romulan Ale calling to her again. She recalled how close she was getting back out into the stars before it was pulled away from her like a rug from under her feet. Repressing that awkward thirst, she pushed on, along with Reeve, browsing the crowd. It was there, she bumped into Elihu, as he and the Romulan Centurion, a member of his crew, from earlier, were on their way out. In an instant, a rushing memory of threatening stance filled Aeris once again and locking eyes with the part-Vulcan from the Food Court struck her heart rate into a heightened state. It was him...?
Something was definitely odd about her reaction to this man. It wasn't normal, and she need to know why or if it was related to the reports of terrorists in the Vulcan sector. "Excuse me, Lieutenant... Elihu," Aeris said while referencing her PADD's listing from earlier. "Captain Aeris, with Spacedock security; please come with me."
Elihu froze before taking a single step. He sensed a familiar presence heading toward the club. “Someone's coming,” said Elihu, and stared at the club entrance, almost apprehensive.
“Who?”
Keeping his eyes on the entrance, he nodded to the bar where a human male civilian in his late forties, two Nausicaan asylum-seekers, and a Yridian trader were gathered. The Centurion quickly took the necessary six steps to the group of aliens before the newcomer appeared at the threshold.
Elihu mingled with another group of patrons; a couple of them were cadets from his previous charade. They looked at him questioningly. When Aeris entered, keeping her eyes open for a Romulan female, Elihu stepped out from his group with a synth-ale he somehow palmed from one of the graduates and bumped into the woman. He glared at her and then Reeve. Anger.
But he let it subside since he hadn't spilled much, and he handed the glass off back to the graduate. When the captain immediately began speaking to him, Elihu M'Konel narrowed his dark eyes at her, however, his demeanor was superbly amicable. In spite of the fact he knew Aeris had noticed Lydia M'Konel, he smiled at the young woman, gazing into her beautiful eyes. Warmth.
"Greetings, Captain. Commander. I'm sorry, but the manifest got my names mixed up. I guess it's because I'm a mutt." He laughed. "I'm part of about six different species, but mostly Vulcan and Romulan." He intentionally left out the Betazoid part. "Anyway, it's 'Lieutenant M'Konel.' It's a play on McConnell, get it? And I'd be glad to come with you. Do you mind if I ask what this is about?"
Operative Garnet - Mezzianne
He looks around, enjoying his semi-legally attained raktajino. It helps to have a cloaking device sometimes - springing a raid on Ferengi smugglers, taking them to the nearest starbase. While he looks out on the Penumbra docking for repairs, he longs for the more interesting days, when you didn't know when the Iconians would strike, or when Captain [Removed due to Temporal Prime Directive Violations] would pay a visit every other day. Now, its just enforcing a standard of interstellar law. Perhaps they need reinforcements in the Solanae Dyson Sphere. He hopes so.
Oh, and is this the right format? I'm not sure.
0
rattler2Member, Star Trek Online ModeratorPosts: 58,677Community Moderator
Krystal stretches in her seat again. She honestly didn't know what to say right now.
I can't take it anymore! Could everyone just chill out for two seconds before something CRAZY happens again?!
The nut who actually ground out many packs. The resident forum voice of reason (I HAZ FORUM REP! YAY!)
normal text = me speaking as fellow formite colored text = mod mode
"There, read that briefing on Herald Spheres. I've got 3 other captains to give assignments to. You know, the other 3 ships the Firestorm and Lexington will be fighting alongside."
The admiral walks out to find the other 3 captains, all of whom are presumably on ESD.
OOC: Looks good, although out of character questions are best proceeded by "OOC:", so we know the out of character question is not part of the RP.
Winning.
It's what I do. It's what I just did. It's what I'm about to do again. It's being undisputed emperor of an empire that cannot be disproved as the most powerful intergalactic empire in the entire universe; I always win, and everything I've won will definitely be won again... by me. It's my signature move, and thus, it's my signature. Problem, Sonic? Yeah, I mean you, Sonic, because you're being beat up, despite your being super. You can't even hit Shadow back, can you? Nope, he's too strong for you. Of course, I'm not Shadow, I'm the Super Emerald fueled fox that's pulling the strings; trust me, the fight would only be a few frames long if I were in it personally. Oh, and here's something for all you guys thinking you can win Last Post Wins 3.0; trust me, I'll be around a long while after the sun has already consumed the Earth while I sit out with the forum servers on Titan. Yes, I mean Titan... that comparatively little moon orbiting Saturn. It's a nice little place in a version of our solar system where the sun is a lot bigger. I mean, Mars will last longer than your precious Earth, but by then, it'll be one hot planet... and I figure Saturn's moon will be about the right temperate for a super-powered warlord. Oh, and trust me, I packed a lot of rings, and I mean a lot. Trillions, in fact, so I'll never run out of rings to power my super form. Besides, if I start to run out, I can just chaos control more rings into my reach. It's quite easy, really. You should try it. Granted, you'll never have the 7 Super Emeralds that I have in my possession, nor the Master Emerald that I've got hidden away somewhere... absorbed into my body thanks to Sonic logic, but whatever. I win. Again. I'm not kidding, either. Just check Last Post Wins, and if the last post isn't mine, it soon will be. Very, very soon. You can count on it. Seriously. By the way, if you're wondering, there's a really great Super Tails sprite sheet out there... somewhere... by some guy named shadow_91. These sprites are really great. Like, really good. Quality. Just like what I like to see in a sprite sheet. Also, credit to Joe T.E., his Sonic Battle style Super Sonic sprites have a great palette for a Super Sonic being beat up by Super Shadow, who's palette is from a Super Shadow sheet of unknown origin, but it turns out they were "borrowed" from a better sheet made by a certain Domenico. Oh, and the gif is actually a custom made super version of a similar gif, of which there are only 3 or 4 copies to be found by Google, and even then, evidently of an unknown source. Yep, it's one of those things. Stuff people have made, spread around, only for it to vanish and you to be the only person who still has a copy, not even knowing where it came from... like, literally at all. Oh, and anyone notice that Shadow's little chaos snap blast thingies are red and blue now? Yeah, I changed it. Problem, fans of purple? Yeah, I know you got a problem with that one, but you can just deal with it. After all, according to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly... alright, alright, I'll spare you the entire Bee Movie script, just Google it if you want. By the way, ever wonder how your characters would've ended up if they evolved in another universe? Yeah, that. Think about it. Ok, so you probably didn't bother reading up to here, but whatever, here's a surprise for you guys over at ESD (RP) who were crazy enough to read this: Emperor Nat of the mcfreakin' Terran Empire is gonna be right all along! The universe is gonna go BOOM! *Thumbs up to the insanity*
Oh, now don't tell me you want in on all this! Well, ok. Look this that Egg Pawn hanging outside your window, pointing his laser rifle at you, waiting for my next order. He's doing his part. He helps conquer the weak-minded. He roboticizes the weak-bodied. Heck, he even helps keep the useless people from causing any trouble, but you know what? Join. Find the closest Nataran Empire roboticization center near you and join the ranks, before the ranks find you. Oh, I know, you figure it must be so satisfying to know I basically rule the world now, and you know what? It is, but do you want to know the true definition of satisfaction? Well, let me tell you a little story. One day, you see a brand new event. They're giving out boxes that give old event stuff. Your dilithium is plentiful. You buy a whole lot of Phoenix packs on your main, and open them all. You get one epic token. Then, you decide, that since you have all the Breen ships and don't give a damn about the others, you exchange it for an ultra rare, and grab yourself a Jem'Hadar Attack Ship and for the hell of it, a Voth Bulwark. You open both, leaving the Bulwark in your vast masses of starships as you jump into the bugship and deck it out, deck by deck, into the most awesome Jem'Hadar ship you can. You fly it. You enjoy it. Eventually, you get bored and leave, leaving the old Bulwark never flown... until later. Your main is long complete. Your new alt main, based off some character you pulled out of nothing just to explain away some starship being in service without the command of your dear admiral, is also complete. Mostly. Their reps and doffs are hard at work, getting you stuff. You realize the potential, and head back for your dear admiral, pull the most Voth themed build you can out of thin air, and suit up in your giant ship in the shape of you know what. You head out... and cause all sorts of havoc. Enemies scream out your name as their very life is drained away by your swarms of Aceton Assimilators. They complain to the devs of your OPness when you revive yourself from death every time you die. Do you show any form of mercy? No. After all, this isn't the United Federation of Planets, this is mother frakkin' Starfleet, where you explore strange new worlds and kick butt never kicked before. Oh, and you realize that I just wrote another speech rivaling your own signature. Cool. Oh, wait, that's just the original draft, it is part of my signature now. Oh, and yes, I am aware that I have become a Canadian Regent; one day, sooner than you'd expect, we'll suddenly decide to take over the world and declare an "alliance", and I shall become it's Regent. You know, like the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance in the mirror universe of our beloved Star Trek. Oh, who'll we be taking over with? I dunno, maybe [REDACTED], or maybe aliens from outer space. Guess you'll have to wait and find out, won't we? Until then, don't ask too many questions, or else my Breen allies on Titania might pick up on your -- [REDACTED BY BREEN CONFEDERACY FOR REASONS] Also, psst... keep an eye out for flying Tribbles! Also walls. Big, great walls, separating entire continents apart. Walls patrolled by Tribbles. Flying Tribbles. Flying Nukara Tribbles. Don't worry, it's not like they were on Venus with a herd of Tholians or anything, they just like the extreme heat and brutal weather like acid rain and hurricane force winds as the norm. Oh, and definitely keep your eye out on any two-tailed foxes, because if they ain't glowing, they're definitely an imposter. Possibly an Undine, we caught one of those once in my place once. Oh, and if you find a two-tailed fox that doesn't like the cold... most certainly ask him to say sorry. If he refuses, DESTROY HIM WITH A DOOMSDAY MACHINE, BECAUSE THERE'S NOTHING ELSE THAT WOULD BE ENOUGH AGAINST SUCH AN OVERPOWERED IMPOSTER!
tr;dr, I am winning last post wins 3.0. Thank you for your time.
Oh, look, an explosion...
0
rattler2Member, Star Trek Online ModeratorPosts: 58,677Community Moderator
I can't take it anymore! Could everyone just chill out for two seconds before something CRAZY happens again?!
The nut who actually ground out many packs. The resident forum voice of reason (I HAZ FORUM REP! YAY!)
normal text = me speaking as fellow formite colored text = mod mode
"My partner and I are investigating reports of a stolen shipment of quadrotriticale in the sector, and one eye witness has your description down to a tee. But, you're a Starfleet officer, so I'd be hard-pressed to believe any one of us would even do something like that. I just need a few moments in priviate, in the Security office to ask you a few questions. It's purely procedural."
Normally clear-headed, Aeris couldn't process the flip from intensity to warmth. There was something untrusting about that, but her instincts were telling her that she couldn't trust this man anyway. Then again that lack of trust could also be the trickled-down paranoia fed to her in her last meeting; she wasn't sure. Then again, she was never not sure.
Genuine confusion emanated from Lieutenant M'Konel regarding the stolen shipment. "Sure I'll go with you, though if I were going to steal something, it wouldnt be GMO grain." He gave her a pointed look, though it was not without a dash of charm. "And I'm sure you understand my need to take responsibility for any actions my crew take, so I'll be the only one being questioned at this time."
Had Aeris chosen that moment to look behind the Lieutenant to the bar, she might have noticed the Romulan Centurion had gone. M'Konel had kept the attention of both investigators squarely on him for the better part of two minutes, giving his engineer more than enough time to skedaddle.
Terry stood at a console, speaking with Hann, one of his Starfleet Bridge officers from the Kitana. "Repairs to the ship are complete. Will we be taking on any missions, Captain?"
"I haven't heard anything yet, and my business here isn't finished. Sit tight and I'll let you know," Terry suggested, thinking he'd like to get his postponed evaluation over-with. If he wasn't on his way to that, he'd be seeking out his next task.
Deactivating the communication, he turned and bumped into Admiral Nat. "Why don't you watch where you're---" But, then he got his bearings and pulled himself together. "Oh! Admiral. I should've watched where I was--- Well, you know how that sentence ends. It's a standard sentence. It has a beginning, middle and end. We don't always need the whole thing."
Aeris, Reeve and Elihu stood in the office, the two humans behind the desk; Reeve leaning against the wall, staying out of it, but hanging in to make sure things went smoothly.
"This should be quick." Then she turned to Reeve. "Commander, will you please excuse us?"
Shocked at such a request, since Aeris asked of him the complete opposite earlier, Reeve replied, "Uh, sure. I guess?" He was thinking he'd have to support her lie about the quadrotriticale, but with him not there, she would have to handle herself.
"Good," Aeris said as the doors shut behind Reeve. "Mr. M'Konel, the real reason I brought you here is because I saw you at the Food Court earlier. I'm not one to make blind accusations, but when I left that Food Court, I was filled with a sense of deep threat. We tracked a woman who fits the physical description of someone on your ship's manifest. Then, when I saw you at the club, my instincts recalled that sense and the emotions that went along with it. Let me explain. You see, I'm a rational thinker, and in command of how I feel. When those senses hit me out of nowhere, for no reason, I could only conclude someone else was responsible for them. That person is you. For some reason you're attempting to manipulate me. Somehow you're projecting." And then, off-the-cuff, she added, "You're a telepath."
"You're probably right. Captain Terry, I presume?"
Winning.
It's what I do. It's what I just did. It's what I'm about to do again. It's being undisputed emperor of an empire that cannot be disproved as the most powerful intergalactic empire in the entire universe; I always win, and everything I've won will definitely be won again... by me. It's my signature move, and thus, it's my signature. Problem, Sonic? Yeah, I mean you, Sonic, because you're being beat up, despite your being super. You can't even hit Shadow back, can you? Nope, he's too strong for you. Of course, I'm not Shadow, I'm the Super Emerald fueled fox that's pulling the strings; trust me, the fight would only be a few frames long if I were in it personally. Oh, and here's something for all you guys thinking you can win Last Post Wins 3.0; trust me, I'll be around a long while after the sun has already consumed the Earth while I sit out with the forum servers on Titan. Yes, I mean Titan... that comparatively little moon orbiting Saturn. It's a nice little place in a version of our solar system where the sun is a lot bigger. I mean, Mars will last longer than your precious Earth, but by then, it'll be one hot planet... and I figure Saturn's moon will be about the right temperate for a super-powered warlord. Oh, and trust me, I packed a lot of rings, and I mean a lot. Trillions, in fact, so I'll never run out of rings to power my super form. Besides, if I start to run out, I can just chaos control more rings into my reach. It's quite easy, really. You should try it. Granted, you'll never have the 7 Super Emeralds that I have in my possession, nor the Master Emerald that I've got hidden away somewhere... absorbed into my body thanks to Sonic logic, but whatever. I win. Again. I'm not kidding, either. Just check Last Post Wins, and if the last post isn't mine, it soon will be. Very, very soon. You can count on it. Seriously. By the way, if you're wondering, there's a really great Super Tails sprite sheet out there... somewhere... by some guy named shadow_91. These sprites are really great. Like, really good. Quality. Just like what I like to see in a sprite sheet. Also, credit to Joe T.E., his Sonic Battle style Super Sonic sprites have a great palette for a Super Sonic being beat up by Super Shadow, who's palette is from a Super Shadow sheet of unknown origin, but it turns out they were "borrowed" from a better sheet made by a certain Domenico. Oh, and the gif is actually a custom made super version of a similar gif, of which there are only 3 or 4 copies to be found by Google, and even then, evidently of an unknown source. Yep, it's one of those things. Stuff people have made, spread around, only for it to vanish and you to be the only person who still has a copy, not even knowing where it came from... like, literally at all. Oh, and anyone notice that Shadow's little chaos snap blast thingies are red and blue now? Yeah, I changed it. Problem, fans of purple? Yeah, I know you got a problem with that one, but you can just deal with it. After all, according to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly... alright, alright, I'll spare you the entire Bee Movie script, just Google it if you want. By the way, ever wonder how your characters would've ended up if they evolved in another universe? Yeah, that. Think about it. Ok, so you probably didn't bother reading up to here, but whatever, here's a surprise for you guys over at ESD (RP) who were crazy enough to read this: Emperor Nat of the mcfreakin' Terran Empire is gonna be right all along! The universe is gonna go BOOM! *Thumbs up to the insanity*
Oh, now don't tell me you want in on all this! Well, ok. Look this that Egg Pawn hanging outside your window, pointing his laser rifle at you, waiting for my next order. He's doing his part. He helps conquer the weak-minded. He roboticizes the weak-bodied. Heck, he even helps keep the useless people from causing any trouble, but you know what? Join. Find the closest Nataran Empire roboticization center near you and join the ranks, before the ranks find you. Oh, I know, you figure it must be so satisfying to know I basically rule the world now, and you know what? It is, but do you want to know the true definition of satisfaction? Well, let me tell you a little story. One day, you see a brand new event. They're giving out boxes that give old event stuff. Your dilithium is plentiful. You buy a whole lot of Phoenix packs on your main, and open them all. You get one epic token. Then, you decide, that since you have all the Breen ships and don't give a damn about the others, you exchange it for an ultra rare, and grab yourself a Jem'Hadar Attack Ship and for the hell of it, a Voth Bulwark. You open both, leaving the Bulwark in your vast masses of starships as you jump into the bugship and deck it out, deck by deck, into the most awesome Jem'Hadar ship you can. You fly it. You enjoy it. Eventually, you get bored and leave, leaving the old Bulwark never flown... until later. Your main is long complete. Your new alt main, based off some character you pulled out of nothing just to explain away some starship being in service without the command of your dear admiral, is also complete. Mostly. Their reps and doffs are hard at work, getting you stuff. You realize the potential, and head back for your dear admiral, pull the most Voth themed build you can out of thin air, and suit up in your giant ship in the shape of you know what. You head out... and cause all sorts of havoc. Enemies scream out your name as their very life is drained away by your swarms of Aceton Assimilators. They complain to the devs of your OPness when you revive yourself from death every time you die. Do you show any form of mercy? No. After all, this isn't the United Federation of Planets, this is mother frakkin' Starfleet, where you explore strange new worlds and kick butt never kicked before. Oh, and you realize that I just wrote another speech rivaling your own signature. Cool. Oh, wait, that's just the original draft, it is part of my signature now. Oh, and yes, I am aware that I have become a Canadian Regent; one day, sooner than you'd expect, we'll suddenly decide to take over the world and declare an "alliance", and I shall become it's Regent. You know, like the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance in the mirror universe of our beloved Star Trek. Oh, who'll we be taking over with? I dunno, maybe [REDACTED], or maybe aliens from outer space. Guess you'll have to wait and find out, won't we? Until then, don't ask too many questions, or else my Breen allies on Titania might pick up on your -- [REDACTED BY BREEN CONFEDERACY FOR REASONS] Also, psst... keep an eye out for flying Tribbles! Also walls. Big, great walls, separating entire continents apart. Walls patrolled by Tribbles. Flying Tribbles. Flying Nukara Tribbles. Don't worry, it's not like they were on Venus with a herd of Tholians or anything, they just like the extreme heat and brutal weather like acid rain and hurricane force winds as the norm. Oh, and definitely keep your eye out on any two-tailed foxes, because if they ain't glowing, they're definitely an imposter. Possibly an Undine, we caught one of those once in my place once. Oh, and if you find a two-tailed fox that doesn't like the cold... most certainly ask him to say sorry. If he refuses, DESTROY HIM WITH A DOOMSDAY MACHINE, BECAUSE THERE'S NOTHING ELSE THAT WOULD BE ENOUGH AGAINST SUCH AN OVERPOWERED IMPOSTER!
tr;dr, I am winning last post wins 3.0. Thank you for your time.
As the Lieutenant listened to Captain Aeris speaking, his small smile grew. Oh yes. I do enjoy a challenge.
"Sure," was his only response, in addition to a vague nod.
He rarely ever lied, never really needed to. However, he was not going to make this easy for her. To him, it was a game. By now, Lydia M'Konel was back on board the Philadelphia. Elihu wondered if Lang made it back or if he was still puttering about in the food court. Knowing Lang, he was probably hitting on some hot Asian or Caitian.
He interlaced his hands in front of him as he leaned back in his chair, one elbow propped up on the back. "Oh, by the way, detaining someone for 'making you feel' is illegal, and also a little childish."
"There's the briefing. It'll be a bit before we can actually move out, with the Firestorm in spacedock for repairs, so take your time, and..."
He takes a look at his PADD, which appears to be Terry's file.
"...let me know if you're ready for the mission. I'll go find the other captains in the meanwhile."
The admiral walks off to find the other two captains.
Winning.
It's what I do. It's what I just did. It's what I'm about to do again. It's being undisputed emperor of an empire that cannot be disproved as the most powerful intergalactic empire in the entire universe; I always win, and everything I've won will definitely be won again... by me. It's my signature move, and thus, it's my signature. Problem, Sonic? Yeah, I mean you, Sonic, because you're being beat up, despite your being super. You can't even hit Shadow back, can you? Nope, he's too strong for you. Of course, I'm not Shadow, I'm the Super Emerald fueled fox that's pulling the strings; trust me, the fight would only be a few frames long if I were in it personally. Oh, and here's something for all you guys thinking you can win Last Post Wins 3.0; trust me, I'll be around a long while after the sun has already consumed the Earth while I sit out with the forum servers on Titan. Yes, I mean Titan... that comparatively little moon orbiting Saturn. It's a nice little place in a version of our solar system where the sun is a lot bigger. I mean, Mars will last longer than your precious Earth, but by then, it'll be one hot planet... and I figure Saturn's moon will be about the right temperate for a super-powered warlord. Oh, and trust me, I packed a lot of rings, and I mean a lot. Trillions, in fact, so I'll never run out of rings to power my super form. Besides, if I start to run out, I can just chaos control more rings into my reach. It's quite easy, really. You should try it. Granted, you'll never have the 7 Super Emeralds that I have in my possession, nor the Master Emerald that I've got hidden away somewhere... absorbed into my body thanks to Sonic logic, but whatever. I win. Again. I'm not kidding, either. Just check Last Post Wins, and if the last post isn't mine, it soon will be. Very, very soon. You can count on it. Seriously. By the way, if you're wondering, there's a really great Super Tails sprite sheet out there... somewhere... by some guy named shadow_91. These sprites are really great. Like, really good. Quality. Just like what I like to see in a sprite sheet. Also, credit to Joe T.E., his Sonic Battle style Super Sonic sprites have a great palette for a Super Sonic being beat up by Super Shadow, who's palette is from a Super Shadow sheet of unknown origin, but it turns out they were "borrowed" from a better sheet made by a certain Domenico. Oh, and the gif is actually a custom made super version of a similar gif, of which there are only 3 or 4 copies to be found by Google, and even then, evidently of an unknown source. Yep, it's one of those things. Stuff people have made, spread around, only for it to vanish and you to be the only person who still has a copy, not even knowing where it came from... like, literally at all. Oh, and anyone notice that Shadow's little chaos snap blast thingies are red and blue now? Yeah, I changed it. Problem, fans of purple? Yeah, I know you got a problem with that one, but you can just deal with it. After all, according to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly... alright, alright, I'll spare you the entire Bee Movie script, just Google it if you want. By the way, ever wonder how your characters would've ended up if they evolved in another universe? Yeah, that. Think about it. Ok, so you probably didn't bother reading up to here, but whatever, here's a surprise for you guys over at ESD (RP) who were crazy enough to read this: Emperor Nat of the mcfreakin' Terran Empire is gonna be right all along! The universe is gonna go BOOM! *Thumbs up to the insanity*
Oh, now don't tell me you want in on all this! Well, ok. Look this that Egg Pawn hanging outside your window, pointing his laser rifle at you, waiting for my next order. He's doing his part. He helps conquer the weak-minded. He roboticizes the weak-bodied. Heck, he even helps keep the useless people from causing any trouble, but you know what? Join. Find the closest Nataran Empire roboticization center near you and join the ranks, before the ranks find you. Oh, I know, you figure it must be so satisfying to know I basically rule the world now, and you know what? It is, but do you want to know the true definition of satisfaction? Well, let me tell you a little story. One day, you see a brand new event. They're giving out boxes that give old event stuff. Your dilithium is plentiful. You buy a whole lot of Phoenix packs on your main, and open them all. You get one epic token. Then, you decide, that since you have all the Breen ships and don't give a damn about the others, you exchange it for an ultra rare, and grab yourself a Jem'Hadar Attack Ship and for the hell of it, a Voth Bulwark. You open both, leaving the Bulwark in your vast masses of starships as you jump into the bugship and deck it out, deck by deck, into the most awesome Jem'Hadar ship you can. You fly it. You enjoy it. Eventually, you get bored and leave, leaving the old Bulwark never flown... until later. Your main is long complete. Your new alt main, based off some character you pulled out of nothing just to explain away some starship being in service without the command of your dear admiral, is also complete. Mostly. Their reps and doffs are hard at work, getting you stuff. You realize the potential, and head back for your dear admiral, pull the most Voth themed build you can out of thin air, and suit up in your giant ship in the shape of you know what. You head out... and cause all sorts of havoc. Enemies scream out your name as their very life is drained away by your swarms of Aceton Assimilators. They complain to the devs of your OPness when you revive yourself from death every time you die. Do you show any form of mercy? No. After all, this isn't the United Federation of Planets, this is mother frakkin' Starfleet, where you explore strange new worlds and kick butt never kicked before. Oh, and you realize that I just wrote another speech rivaling your own signature. Cool. Oh, wait, that's just the original draft, it is part of my signature now. Oh, and yes, I am aware that I have become a Canadian Regent; one day, sooner than you'd expect, we'll suddenly decide to take over the world and declare an "alliance", and I shall become it's Regent. You know, like the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance in the mirror universe of our beloved Star Trek. Oh, who'll we be taking over with? I dunno, maybe [REDACTED], or maybe aliens from outer space. Guess you'll have to wait and find out, won't we? Until then, don't ask too many questions, or else my Breen allies on Titania might pick up on your -- [REDACTED BY BREEN CONFEDERACY FOR REASONS] Also, psst... keep an eye out for flying Tribbles! Also walls. Big, great walls, separating entire continents apart. Walls patrolled by Tribbles. Flying Tribbles. Flying Nukara Tribbles. Don't worry, it's not like they were on Venus with a herd of Tholians or anything, they just like the extreme heat and brutal weather like acid rain and hurricane force winds as the norm. Oh, and definitely keep your eye out on any two-tailed foxes, because if they ain't glowing, they're definitely an imposter. Possibly an Undine, we caught one of those once in my place once. Oh, and if you find a two-tailed fox that doesn't like the cold... most certainly ask him to say sorry. If he refuses, DESTROY HIM WITH A DOOMSDAY MACHINE, BECAUSE THERE'S NOTHING ELSE THAT WOULD BE ENOUGH AGAINST SUCH AN OVERPOWERED IMPOSTER!
tr;dr, I am winning last post wins 3.0. Thank you for your time.
"You're right, Lieutenant," Aeris replied, taking a moment to process his angle. "But that's no way to speak to a superior officer."
She paced for a second and then stopped.
"It was dishonest and perhaps childish of me to bring you here like this. But we live in a galaxy where telepathy is common, and it's the only non-tangible, non-provable mechanism there is. But it's also powerful and personal. I just needed to confirm your actions and ask you why? Why would you do this? You're either a man lacking of conscience or you're hiding something." Then, she added, "Or both. Either way, since you won't answer like a man, you're free to go. I'll have to get back to my investigation."
Operating on a hunch which her instincts enabled her to be sure of, she turned to her security screen displayed on the wall behind her desk. Before Elihu could leave, she spoke.
"Computer, bring up the surveillance video for Cargo Bay's 7 through 12 and display them in reverse order, each incrementally at 5 minutes before the other, starting at 0900 hours."
On it, displayed the bird's eye view of each cargo bay, and the many people going in and out of them. She touched the video for Cargo Bay 7, freezing it at the point the Romulan Centurion was fiddling with something in a crate in the back, then began freezing all the other videos. The same Romulan, with the same clothes, was in each bay, fiddling with a far away crate on each screen.
"What was your officer doing? What is your mission here?"
rattler2Member, Star Trek Online ModeratorPosts: 58,677Community Moderator
After finishing with the Briefing and a few other things, Krystal is now wandering around Earth Spacedock while waiting for repairs to the Lexington to finish.
I can't take it anymore! Could everyone just chill out for two seconds before something CRAZY happens again?!
The nut who actually ground out many packs. The resident forum voice of reason (I HAZ FORUM REP! YAY!)
normal text = me speaking as fellow formite colored text = mod mode
Terry looked at the PADD. He was glad to have a mission, finally, but to be put back into the heat of the Iconians was troublesome. As he walked, he noticed Commander Reeve staring through the windows of the doors to the Security office. They displayed surveillance video, which Reeve was reacting to.
"You know, in some cultures you could can just knock," Terry said.
Reeve shook his head. "I got what I needed." He tapped his commbadge. "Reeve to Security teams Alpha through Delta. Begin intensive scans and initiate searches of the cargo bays, starting with 7 through 12. Look for explosives, monitoring equipment, anything."
"Sounds serious," Terry said.
Reeve nodded before running off. "We'll see."
"I guess, so will I," Terry answered to himself, looking at the PADD in his hands.
Leiutenant M'Konel started to leave, ignoring her attempts to get him to react or fess up. However, when Aeris began talking to her computer, he stopped and turned. M'Konel watched the footage with a smile.
"Captain...you're not going to find anything. Moreover, your scanners will not tell you anything. In fact, when all is said and done, it will look like someone doctored the video footage. To put it bluntly, you have absolutely nothing. That code I gave your man... look it up. I mean really. But be careful what you do with it. When you figure out what it means, you'll have to make a choice: continue harassing my crew because you just must know what's going on, or understand that my mission has already been accomplished, and our goals are not mutually exclusive." Still smirking, M'Konel crossed his arms over his chest. "May I leave now, Captain?"
Aeris picked up Reeve's PADD report from Cargo Bay 7, referenced it and entered the Romulan's code into a general database search. Too determined to even care if M'Konel was still standing there, she read the incoming search results. "This is a Starfleet Intelligence code?"
To her surprise he was still there. Likely, to enjoy winning for a few more moments. She might find him attractive if the circumstances weren't so adversarial.
"You're working for Intelligence on something. That's what this is about! You're on a mission for them." She looked to the side in shock, in disbelief at what she was about to say. "I guess you can leave?"
But then the search monitor beeped, indicating the final results from her inquiry as complete. She looked one last time. From an intel category only released to Captains, was a depiction of an organization sharing the code. "The Tal Shiar!?"
Somehow, Starfleet Intelligence had enabled a Tal Shiar code, indicating this man having some kind of association with those pointy-eared barbarians.
Turning and narrowing her eyes at M'Konel, she tapped her commbadge and commanded: "Computer, lock down this room with a Level 10 force field. Aeris to any available officers, I need an established guard around the Security Office."
Those were the emotions emanating from the security captain. Oh, and one more: Hate.
And it was a certain type of hate that Elihu knew well.
RAGE.
Though he didn't move a muscle and his visage remained neutral, the part-Romulan's rage permeated the room; it flooded the atmosphere like a black tsunami. And M'Konel made damn certain it penetrated the woman's bones, turning her anger and nervousness into outright fear.
In an almost too-calm tone, M'Konel whispered, "Do what you like, but don't feel that way about the Romulans, nor the Tal'Shiar. You will apologize, or I will cripple your mind with fear for the rest of your life. Trust me, it's not pleasant."
M'Konel was not actually sure he could do that, but his confidence was absolute. His Vulcan psionic abilities were able to amplify his Betazoid empathic ones, though he too was quickly becoming overcome with emotion. If his father were here, he'd reprimand him for not adhering to strict Vulcan logic and submitting to his Betazoid and human volatility.
He almost hoped Aeris disobeyed. He could already feel his mind reaching into hers, searching her darkest fears, as the feeling of total terror hung heavy like molasses around her.
Admiral Nat hears the call for any available officers to set up a guard around the Security Office, and sees most of ESD's officers are already busy with one thing or another. He calls down his chief of security, Commander Sek, a Breen commander that defected to Starfleet and has served on the U.S.S. Firestorm for a couple years, and has him set up the guard in question. An elite guard, in fact, consisting exclusively of M.A.C.O.s.
Winning.
It's what I do. It's what I just did. It's what I'm about to do again. It's being undisputed emperor of an empire that cannot be disproved as the most powerful intergalactic empire in the entire universe; I always win, and everything I've won will definitely be won again... by me. It's my signature move, and thus, it's my signature. Problem, Sonic? Yeah, I mean you, Sonic, because you're being beat up, despite your being super. You can't even hit Shadow back, can you? Nope, he's too strong for you. Of course, I'm not Shadow, I'm the Super Emerald fueled fox that's pulling the strings; trust me, the fight would only be a few frames long if I were in it personally. Oh, and here's something for all you guys thinking you can win Last Post Wins 3.0; trust me, I'll be around a long while after the sun has already consumed the Earth while I sit out with the forum servers on Titan. Yes, I mean Titan... that comparatively little moon orbiting Saturn. It's a nice little place in a version of our solar system where the sun is a lot bigger. I mean, Mars will last longer than your precious Earth, but by then, it'll be one hot planet... and I figure Saturn's moon will be about the right temperate for a super-powered warlord. Oh, and trust me, I packed a lot of rings, and I mean a lot. Trillions, in fact, so I'll never run out of rings to power my super form. Besides, if I start to run out, I can just chaos control more rings into my reach. It's quite easy, really. You should try it. Granted, you'll never have the 7 Super Emeralds that I have in my possession, nor the Master Emerald that I've got hidden away somewhere... absorbed into my body thanks to Sonic logic, but whatever. I win. Again. I'm not kidding, either. Just check Last Post Wins, and if the last post isn't mine, it soon will be. Very, very soon. You can count on it. Seriously. By the way, if you're wondering, there's a really great Super Tails sprite sheet out there... somewhere... by some guy named shadow_91. These sprites are really great. Like, really good. Quality. Just like what I like to see in a sprite sheet. Also, credit to Joe T.E., his Sonic Battle style Super Sonic sprites have a great palette for a Super Sonic being beat up by Super Shadow, who's palette is from a Super Shadow sheet of unknown origin, but it turns out they were "borrowed" from a better sheet made by a certain Domenico. Oh, and the gif is actually a custom made super version of a similar gif, of which there are only 3 or 4 copies to be found by Google, and even then, evidently of an unknown source. Yep, it's one of those things. Stuff people have made, spread around, only for it to vanish and you to be the only person who still has a copy, not even knowing where it came from... like, literally at all. Oh, and anyone notice that Shadow's little chaos snap blast thingies are red and blue now? Yeah, I changed it. Problem, fans of purple? Yeah, I know you got a problem with that one, but you can just deal with it. After all, according to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly... alright, alright, I'll spare you the entire Bee Movie script, just Google it if you want. By the way, ever wonder how your characters would've ended up if they evolved in another universe? Yeah, that. Think about it. Ok, so you probably didn't bother reading up to here, but whatever, here's a surprise for you guys over at ESD (RP) who were crazy enough to read this: Emperor Nat of the mcfreakin' Terran Empire is gonna be right all along! The universe is gonna go BOOM! *Thumbs up to the insanity*
Oh, now don't tell me you want in on all this! Well, ok. Look this that Egg Pawn hanging outside your window, pointing his laser rifle at you, waiting for my next order. He's doing his part. He helps conquer the weak-minded. He roboticizes the weak-bodied. Heck, he even helps keep the useless people from causing any trouble, but you know what? Join. Find the closest Nataran Empire roboticization center near you and join the ranks, before the ranks find you. Oh, I know, you figure it must be so satisfying to know I basically rule the world now, and you know what? It is, but do you want to know the true definition of satisfaction? Well, let me tell you a little story. One day, you see a brand new event. They're giving out boxes that give old event stuff. Your dilithium is plentiful. You buy a whole lot of Phoenix packs on your main, and open them all. You get one epic token. Then, you decide, that since you have all the Breen ships and don't give a damn about the others, you exchange it for an ultra rare, and grab yourself a Jem'Hadar Attack Ship and for the hell of it, a Voth Bulwark. You open both, leaving the Bulwark in your vast masses of starships as you jump into the bugship and deck it out, deck by deck, into the most awesome Jem'Hadar ship you can. You fly it. You enjoy it. Eventually, you get bored and leave, leaving the old Bulwark never flown... until later. Your main is long complete. Your new alt main, based off some character you pulled out of nothing just to explain away some starship being in service without the command of your dear admiral, is also complete. Mostly. Their reps and doffs are hard at work, getting you stuff. You realize the potential, and head back for your dear admiral, pull the most Voth themed build you can out of thin air, and suit up in your giant ship in the shape of you know what. You head out... and cause all sorts of havoc. Enemies scream out your name as their very life is drained away by your swarms of Aceton Assimilators. They complain to the devs of your OPness when you revive yourself from death every time you die. Do you show any form of mercy? No. After all, this isn't the United Federation of Planets, this is mother frakkin' Starfleet, where you explore strange new worlds and kick butt never kicked before. Oh, and you realize that I just wrote another speech rivaling your own signature. Cool. Oh, wait, that's just the original draft, it is part of my signature now. Oh, and yes, I am aware that I have become a Canadian Regent; one day, sooner than you'd expect, we'll suddenly decide to take over the world and declare an "alliance", and I shall become it's Regent. You know, like the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance in the mirror universe of our beloved Star Trek. Oh, who'll we be taking over with? I dunno, maybe [REDACTED], or maybe aliens from outer space. Guess you'll have to wait and find out, won't we? Until then, don't ask too many questions, or else my Breen allies on Titania might pick up on your -- [REDACTED BY BREEN CONFEDERACY FOR REASONS] Also, psst... keep an eye out for flying Tribbles! Also walls. Big, great walls, separating entire continents apart. Walls patrolled by Tribbles. Flying Tribbles. Flying Nukara Tribbles. Don't worry, it's not like they were on Venus with a herd of Tholians or anything, they just like the extreme heat and brutal weather like acid rain and hurricane force winds as the norm. Oh, and definitely keep your eye out on any two-tailed foxes, because if they ain't glowing, they're definitely an imposter. Possibly an Undine, we caught one of those once in my place once. Oh, and if you find a two-tailed fox that doesn't like the cold... most certainly ask him to say sorry. If he refuses, DESTROY HIM WITH A DOOMSDAY MACHINE, BECAUSE THERE'S NOTHING ELSE THAT WOULD BE ENOUGH AGAINST SUCH AN OVERPOWERED IMPOSTER!
tr;dr, I am winning last post wins 3.0. Thank you for your time.
Admiral Dareau enters, and sees Thoreau sitting at a table, with two plates set out. As she's staring intently into a PADD and eating from one, the other seat is unoccupied. Ardrian slides into that seat.
"So Commander," Ardrian says by way of introduction, "requisitions filed to finish off the Paradise's refit?"
Thoreau barely looks up, though the slight shift of her head ruffles her hair enough to show off the glint of exposed android control systems. "Dang bureaucracy, acknowledged the remaining requests to replate the hull and complete the upgrade, and they've moved the supplies to Cargo Bay 11. However, there seems to be an... issue... with which slipway we're going to occupy for the process. Other ships have higher priorities than us, it seems."
As Ardrian fidgits with his collar, she continues "And I don't know exactly what's more important than the completion of the 7th Fleet's flagship? At this rate, we're going to miss our scheduled 'show the flag' over Lukari, and yes, I did remind the Captain of the yards of the importance of our task."
She crunches into a block from her plate. "Firestorm and Lexington are having their repair schedules accelerated for some unknown reason, and the 'good' Captain isn't exactly being forthcoming as to why their repairs are more important than ours."
"Diplomacy doesn't carry the weight it used to." Ardrian deadpans, "And neither does this fifth pip."
"So no word in the 'big shot' lounge?"
"Nope. Classified is classified. Combat's more important than diplomacy. I'll need some orders written up for the Ride the Wind, looks like our Vesta class is gonna have to do 'our' song and dance. At least she's still sciencey instead of all guns and armor."
As Ardrian takes a big bite of his now cold steak, Thoreau finally looks straight at him, somewhat quizzically. "Lady," Ardrian sorta smirks out between bites, "I'll swing through Sugihara's office and lodge the requisite complaint. I'm sure you'll know exactly which slipway we can 'commandeer' before I'm done eating..."
"13."
"...so that they know where to put our ship."
Thoreau smiles, knowingly. "Kimmy's chomping at the bit..."
"How many times do I have to remind you to fix your 'informality' program?"
"You started it, sir... Engineer Bowman has forgone her leave, as usual, to complain about the inefficiencies of the Spacedock staff. She also has her entire staff waiting for her call. She's told me that it should take her three point..."
"And with over a day till we get slipway 13, we'll still miss our visit. Tell Bowman to relax, her humanity needs at least a day off. That Andorian assistant of hers can get the ship there and started."
"She'll object".
Ardrian just shrugs his shoulders in a 'whatever' move, as he finally decides to dive into his meal...
Detecting big-time "anti-old-school" bias here. NX? Lobi. TOS/TMP Connie? Super-promotion-box. (aka the two hardest ways to get ships) Excelsior & all 3 TNG "big hero" ships? C-Store. Please Equalize...
To rob a line: [quote: Mariemaia Kushrenada] Forum Posting is much like an endless waltz. The three beats of war, peace and revolution continue on forever. However, opinions will change upon the reading of my post.[/quote]
"Are you sure, Centurion?" Ensign Nel Kestral questioned her acting-XO.
From the captain's chair, Centurion M'Konel cast a glower over at the Ops officer. "What do you mean, 'Am I sure'? Of course I am!"
Ensign Nel Kestral, a human female with shoulder-length blond hair, cast a worried glance over to Ensign Daniel Benson at tactical. Ensign Benson was a tall, handsome brown-haired man. He shrugged minutely but returned his attention to his station.
The relief helmsman, Crewman Matt Archer, acknowledged the last given order. "Aye, sir. Moving away from spacedock at one-quarter impulse."
"Don't worry," M'Konel reassured her bridge crew. "We're not leaving him. But if he can't talk his way outta custody, we do not want to be tethered to the station. Once we're at a safe distance, raise shields, Mister Benson."
Benson said, "That will draw their attention, sir."
M'Konel smirked. "I know. Is Lang still aboard the station?"
"Aye," answered Kestral.
Nodding, M'Konel stood and tapped her badge. "Philadelphia to Lieutenant Lang."
"What the hell, Lydia? You didn't feel like waiting for your chief engineer before disembarking?"
"Shut up. Spacedock security has Elihu. Do what you can but don't do anything illegal."
"What? Why is he in custody? What did you get him involv--?!"
M'Konel interrupted, "Thank you, Lieutenant. Knew I could count on you. Philadelphia out."
"I won't apologize," answered Aeris, suddenly feeling the pressure of M'Konel's psionic abilities beginning to overtake her. "You just admitted to a secret operation aboard Spacedock and then to surveillance tampering. And now you're threatening me. Starfleet asked me to investigate this station for exactly what you've done. Using fear to control me sounds a lot like terrorism. I don't know what you did in those Cargo Bays, but I can't see how it can possibly be not mutually exclusive."
Then the drill began into her mind. She began involuntarily sifting through her memories; ones she pushed back as far as she could. She fell back into her chair and grasped her head, completely forgetting what she was talking about or what she just said.
"I don't--- hate-- the Romulans--- It's the-- Tal Sh--- air. --I'll never-- forgive them--- for--- ugh, what they did to my-- crew." Without will, she recalled a complete Tal Shiar take-over of the Zephyra, just last year; one of the most horrifying experiences of her life.
I can't take it anymore! Could everyone just chill out for two seconds before something CRAZY happens again?!
The nut who actually ground out many packs. The resident forum voice of reason (I HAZ FORUM REP! YAY!)
normal text = me speaking as fellow formite colored text = mod mode
Comments
He received perplexed looks.
"Oh, it's nothing. Just standard stuff I'm scheduled for. Though, having fought the Iconian War here does make me a little uneasy at being here. Not to mention their world sounds a lot like ours?" He shakes his head to dismiss it. "Nah. Anyway, I have a meeting with Commander Lucrecia. I'll look out for you guys later."
Terry got up and put his tray in the food decompilers.
"Guess the war's been hard on all of us," she said. "After Lae'nas III... I was more than a little scared. I also couldn't help but think of the future and... well... what I missed out on."
normal text = me speaking as fellow formite
colored text = mod mode
"Yeah, it's affected everyone. Trust me though, after seeing what the Heralds did on New Romulus, I too was pretty shaken."
Winning.
Oh, now don't tell me you want in on all this! Well, ok. Look this that Egg Pawn hanging outside your window, pointing his laser rifle at you, waiting for my next order. He's doing his part. He helps conquer the weak-minded. He roboticizes the weak-bodied. Heck, he even helps keep the useless people from causing any trouble, but you know what? Join. Find the closest Nataran Empire roboticization center near you and join the ranks, before the ranks find you. Oh, I know, you figure it must be so satisfying to know I basically rule the world now, and you know what? It is, but do you want to know the true definition of satisfaction? Well, let me tell you a little story. One day, you see a brand new event. They're giving out boxes that give old event stuff. Your dilithium is plentiful. You buy a whole lot of Phoenix packs on your main, and open them all. You get one epic token. Then, you decide, that since you have all the Breen ships and don't give a damn about the others, you exchange it for an ultra rare, and grab yourself a Jem'Hadar Attack Ship and for the hell of it, a Voth Bulwark. You open both, leaving the Bulwark in your vast masses of starships as you jump into the bugship and deck it out, deck by deck, into the most awesome Jem'Hadar ship you can. You fly it. You enjoy it. Eventually, you get bored and leave, leaving the old Bulwark never flown... until later. Your main is long complete. Your new alt main, based off some character you pulled out of nothing just to explain away some starship being in service without the command of your dear admiral, is also complete. Mostly. Their reps and doffs are hard at work, getting you stuff. You realize the potential, and head back for your dear admiral, pull the most Voth themed build you can out of thin air, and suit up in your giant ship in the shape of you know what. You head out... and cause all sorts of havoc. Enemies scream out your name as their very life is drained away by your swarms of Aceton Assimilators. They complain to the devs of your OPness when you revive yourself from death every time you die. Do you show any form of mercy? No. After all, this isn't the United Federation of Planets, this is mother frakkin' Starfleet, where you explore strange new worlds and kick butt never kicked before. Oh, and you realize that I just wrote another speech rivaling your own signature. Cool. Oh, wait, that's just the original draft, it is part of my signature now. Oh, and yes, I am aware that I have become a Canadian Regent; one day, sooner than you'd expect, we'll suddenly decide to take over the world and declare an "alliance", and I shall become it's Regent. You know, like the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance in the mirror universe of our beloved Star Trek. Oh, who'll we be taking over with? I dunno, maybe [REDACTED], or maybe aliens from outer space. Guess you'll have to wait and find out, won't we? Until then, don't ask too many questions, or else my Breen allies on Titania might pick up on your -- [REDACTED BY BREEN CONFEDERACY FOR REASONS] Also, psst... keep an eye out for flying Tribbles! Also walls. Big, great walls, separating entire continents apart. Walls patrolled by Tribbles. Flying Tribbles. Flying Nukara Tribbles. Don't worry, it's not like they were on Venus with a herd of Tholians or anything, they just like the extreme heat and brutal weather like acid rain and hurricane force winds as the norm. Oh, and definitely keep your eye out on any two-tailed foxes, because if they ain't glowing, they're definitely an imposter. Possibly an Undine, we caught one of those once in my place once. Oh, and if you find a two-tailed fox that doesn't like the cold... most certainly ask him to say sorry. If he refuses, DESTROY HIM WITH A DOOMSDAY MACHINE, BECAUSE THERE'S NOTHING ELSE THAT WOULD BE ENOUGH AGAINST SUCH AN OVERPOWERED IMPOSTER!
tr;dr, I am winning last post wins 3.0. Thank you for your time.
Aeris exited the security office, sifting through a PADD. It had been a long, grueling meeting; one she was unable to steer to her favour for the life of her. As she walked, she was joined in stride with one of her Bridge officers from the Zephyra.
"Perfect timing, I see?" Aeris said.
Wendy shrugged her shoulders. "I walked by three times trying to anticipate your exit. So, how'd it go?"
"Starfleet somehow suspects a terrorist presence in the sector and they want me to assist in station security while I'm here. I'm just to look out for anything out of the ordinary and basically be paranoid for them."
The officer rolled her eyes. "Uh, it's a space station. There are always things out of the ordinary."
"No, but there was this one, odd feeling I got just as I was leaving the Food Court earlier. It felt... almost threatening," Aeris drifted into thought.
Lieutenant Wendy glanced at Aeris. "Any idea who it was?"
"I'm scrolling through a list of officers from ships docked at Spacedock to see if they'll jog my memory. It's a long list. Anyway, how are things on your end?"
The other Human sighed. "Slow. I don't know what those Iconian probes from the War injected into the systems on Spacedock's lower decks, but they won't let go."
"Well, we're on to other enemies now, so hurry it up. One less reason for the Zephyra to be stuck here, the better."
Wendy nodded and walked in another direction. Suddenly, a voice chirped through the comms, from an unknown security officer. "Security to Captain Aeris. An ID code set off some red flags in Cargo Bay 7. We have a Romulan Centurion down here. Can you come check it out?"
"On my way."
Lieutenant Elihu M'Konel and Centurion Lydia M'Konel, the club
By the time Lydia had shown up to the club five minutes later, her emotionally sensitive nephew was sitting alone in a dark corner. His head was buried in his arms on the table. He almost appeared to be in some physical pain, but Lydia knew better. She stood in front of the table, knowing that he was aware of her presence, but he didn't budge. She glanced around...
There weren't too many people in the club, maybe a dozen now. It had died down a bit, and the lumination was a little brighter. Lydia reached for the chair opposite Elihu, but then stopped and sighed.
The sigh was enough to bring his head up. Elihu blinked and smiled blearily. “'Bout time.”
“I'm early.”
“By like ten seconds. Usually you're at least fifty percent early.”
Lydia smirked and shook her head. “Done behaving like a child?” She pulled the chair back noisily along the floor and sat down in it.
Elihu winced at the noise, but the ire in his countenance was because he knew she had done it intentionally. “Ugh, just get to reporting already.” He rubbed his temples.
“Everything's good,” his chief engineer and acting-XO reported. “Since they're quantum-shielded and dimensionally phase-cloaked, we won't ever have to worry about anyone finding them.”
The acting-captain nodded thoughtfully. “Good. Glad I could help.” He leaned back in his chair and stared out at a slow-dancing couple...
Three Months Earlier...
In the privacy of their quarters on the Philadelphia, Elihu and his fiance slow-danced to one of their favorite song, “Unsteady” by X-Ambassadors. He wore a tank top and shorts while she was donned in a blue Starfleet science uniform with an ensign's pip. The woman was barely 19, almost a decade younger than the 28-year-old tactical officer. She had long and curly bright red hair, mildly freckled pale skin, expressive green eyes, and was about eight inches shorter than the man.
In a thick Irish accent, she whispered, “Have you read The Tragedy of an Empath?”
Elihu smiled. No, he replied emotionally. He preferred it. It was easier. Then he said, “But I've heard of it.”
The girl smiled as she removed her face from his chest and looked up at him. She said, “It's a visual novel written by a human.”
“What would a human know about empathy, Talitha?” he scoffed, smirking down at her. Hurt. “I – I'm sorry, Tali,” he said, feeling her pain. “I know you know...”
He felt her almost back away, but didn't. Talitha said, “I am not the only empathic human, Eli. I am not the only person in the galaxy who can understand you.”
Elihu cradled his fiance. I am sorry, my Young Lady.
Burying her face in his neck again, a warm smile grew across her face. Precious silent seconds passed, save for the song. She nuzzled him, tickling his freshly shaven chin with her hair. He giggled and lightly pushed her away. Talitha gradually crept her fingers up his side. Raucous laughter burst forth from Elihu as he squirmed from her touch and shoved her away. No!
Oh, don't you run from me, my dear! Complete. Trust. Adoration. Joy.
She made the face of an evil old witch as she raised her hands in claw-like gestures and projected pure emotion at him. Elihu chuckled and found himself trapped in the bathroom.
Wait a minute, why am I running from a five-foot teenage girl?
Elihu turned and caught Talitha's wrists as she charged into the bathroom after him. She screamed and laughed.
Because I'm gonna getcha! And you know you can't resist me!
“Oh really?” He pushed Talitha backward out of the bathroom and playfully threw her onto their bed. “Ha! Now what, Young Lady!” He pinned her there.
She pouted. “No fair...You have all that Vulcan strength...” ...and Betazoid charm.
The chirp of the woman's comm-badge interrupted their play: “Armory to M'Konel!” Extreme panic.
Elihu's irritation was immediately halted when he sensed the terror in the woman's voice on the other end. He pressed the badge on Talitha's chest. She perked a brow at his courage before softly kneeing him off her. However, she too recognized the situation and was already going for their personal sidearms in the drawer of the nightstand by their bed.
“Go ahead, Lrann,” said Elihu, throwing on his uniform.
“Lieutenant H'Rekthar just pulled a phaser rifle on me! Elihu –!”
“Elihu!” Lydia M'Konel barked at her nephew as he daydreamed.
Back in the club
“What?” he answered, barely looking at her.
Lydia glared at him. “You went back there, didn't you? I told you...” She calmed herself, knowing the terrible emotional memory Elihu was repressing. “I told you, Acting-Captain, we need you at peak efficiency, or I'll be forced to relieve you of duty. You know I don't want to do that...Sir.”
Lieutenant M'Konel grinned at the Centurion's abrupt professionalism. He said, “Let's get back to the Phili before we get arrested.”
Exiting Cargo Bay 7, Aeris was met with a Commander Reeve from station security. "Pleasure to have you with us, Captain."
"Uh, it would be if I didn't get a fake-out in that Cargo Bay. You guys didn't even apprehend anyone."
Reeve put his hands up in defense. "We're not here to make speciest accusations. But the ID code we received checked through 4 of our 5 security decoders-- Nothing to bat an eye at, but we were told to keep a watch out for anything. And I mean anything. Yesterday we spent a whole afternoon debating and examining an unknown mass collection of alien fibers. Turned out to be Caitian."
"You know, I'm not much for the finer points of security, but I do know command. Using my powers of expecting people to do what I require, I expect you assist me with what is required in security. That includes not wasting time on hairballs."
The other officer crossed his arms in agreement. "I won't lie and say we didn't learn a lot from that, in terms of biology, but we do need to answer to the higher-ups on our suspect-intel. Especially to Sulu. He's always on our case."
"He was on leave for while. Glad he's back," she commented. "Now. Let's go to Club 47, where our Romulan 'friend' was last seen headed."
Reeve interrupted his own thought-process. "Did you just do the 'friend' air-quote thing?"
"Yeah, I just realized I did. I order that to be accepted as non-cliché. Also, pilots being medics."
Club 47
Entering the semi-energetically active social realm, Aeris could almost feel her desire for Romulan Ale calling to her again. She recalled how close she was getting back out into the stars before it was pulled away from her like a rug from under her feet. Repressing that awkward thirst, she pushed on, along with Reeve, browsing the crowd. It was there, she bumped into Elihu, as he and the Romulan Centurion, a member of his crew, from earlier, were on their way out. In an instant, a rushing memory of threatening stance filled Aeris once again and locking eyes with the part-Vulcan from the Food Court struck her heart rate into a heightened state. It was him...?
Something was definitely odd about her reaction to this man. It wasn't normal, and she need to know why or if it was related to the reports of terrorists in the Vulcan sector. "Excuse me, Lieutenant... Elihu," Aeris said while referencing her PADD's listing from earlier. "Captain Aeris, with Spacedock security; please come with me."
Elihu froze before taking a single step. He sensed a familiar presence heading toward the club. “Someone's coming,” said Elihu, and stared at the club entrance, almost apprehensive.
“Who?”
Keeping his eyes on the entrance, he nodded to the bar where a human male civilian in his late forties, two Nausicaan asylum-seekers, and a Yridian trader were gathered. The Centurion quickly took the necessary six steps to the group of aliens before the newcomer appeared at the threshold.
Elihu mingled with another group of patrons; a couple of them were cadets from his previous charade. They looked at him questioningly. When Aeris entered, keeping her eyes open for a Romulan female, Elihu stepped out from his group with a synth-ale he somehow palmed from one of the graduates and bumped into the woman. He glared at her and then Reeve. Anger.
But he let it subside since he hadn't spilled much, and he handed the glass off back to the graduate. When the captain immediately began speaking to him, Elihu M'Konel narrowed his dark eyes at her, however, his demeanor was superbly amicable. In spite of the fact he knew Aeris had noticed Lydia M'Konel, he smiled at the young woman, gazing into her beautiful eyes. Warmth.
"Greetings, Captain. Commander. I'm sorry, but the manifest got my names mixed up. I guess it's because I'm a mutt." He laughed. "I'm part of about six different species, but mostly Vulcan and Romulan." He intentionally left out the Betazoid part. "Anyway, it's 'Lieutenant M'Konel.' It's a play on McConnell, get it? And I'd be glad to come with you. Do you mind if I ask what this is about?"
He looks around, enjoying his semi-legally attained raktajino. It helps to have a cloaking device sometimes - springing a raid on Ferengi smugglers, taking them to the nearest starbase. While he looks out on the Penumbra docking for repairs, he longs for the more interesting days, when you didn't know when the Iconians would strike, or when Captain [Removed due to Temporal Prime Directive Violations] would pay a visit every other day. Now, its just enforcing a standard of interstellar law. Perhaps they need reinforcements in the Solanae Dyson Sphere. He hopes so.
Oh, and is this the right format? I'm not sure.
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"There, read that briefing on Herald Spheres. I've got 3 other captains to give assignments to. You know, the other 3 ships the Firestorm and Lexington will be fighting alongside."
The admiral walks out to find the other 3 captains, all of whom are presumably on ESD.
OOC: Looks good, although out of character questions are best proceeded by "OOC:", so we know the out of character question is not part of the RP.
Winning.
Oh, now don't tell me you want in on all this! Well, ok. Look this that Egg Pawn hanging outside your window, pointing his laser rifle at you, waiting for my next order. He's doing his part. He helps conquer the weak-minded. He roboticizes the weak-bodied. Heck, he even helps keep the useless people from causing any trouble, but you know what? Join. Find the closest Nataran Empire roboticization center near you and join the ranks, before the ranks find you. Oh, I know, you figure it must be so satisfying to know I basically rule the world now, and you know what? It is, but do you want to know the true definition of satisfaction? Well, let me tell you a little story. One day, you see a brand new event. They're giving out boxes that give old event stuff. Your dilithium is plentiful. You buy a whole lot of Phoenix packs on your main, and open them all. You get one epic token. Then, you decide, that since you have all the Breen ships and don't give a damn about the others, you exchange it for an ultra rare, and grab yourself a Jem'Hadar Attack Ship and for the hell of it, a Voth Bulwark. You open both, leaving the Bulwark in your vast masses of starships as you jump into the bugship and deck it out, deck by deck, into the most awesome Jem'Hadar ship you can. You fly it. You enjoy it. Eventually, you get bored and leave, leaving the old Bulwark never flown... until later. Your main is long complete. Your new alt main, based off some character you pulled out of nothing just to explain away some starship being in service without the command of your dear admiral, is also complete. Mostly. Their reps and doffs are hard at work, getting you stuff. You realize the potential, and head back for your dear admiral, pull the most Voth themed build you can out of thin air, and suit up in your giant ship in the shape of you know what. You head out... and cause all sorts of havoc. Enemies scream out your name as their very life is drained away by your swarms of Aceton Assimilators. They complain to the devs of your OPness when you revive yourself from death every time you die. Do you show any form of mercy? No. After all, this isn't the United Federation of Planets, this is mother frakkin' Starfleet, where you explore strange new worlds and kick butt never kicked before. Oh, and you realize that I just wrote another speech rivaling your own signature. Cool. Oh, wait, that's just the original draft, it is part of my signature now. Oh, and yes, I am aware that I have become a Canadian Regent; one day, sooner than you'd expect, we'll suddenly decide to take over the world and declare an "alliance", and I shall become it's Regent. You know, like the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance in the mirror universe of our beloved Star Trek. Oh, who'll we be taking over with? I dunno, maybe [REDACTED], or maybe aliens from outer space. Guess you'll have to wait and find out, won't we? Until then, don't ask too many questions, or else my Breen allies on Titania might pick up on your -- [REDACTED BY BREEN CONFEDERACY FOR REASONS] Also, psst... keep an eye out for flying Tribbles! Also walls. Big, great walls, separating entire continents apart. Walls patrolled by Tribbles. Flying Tribbles. Flying Nukara Tribbles. Don't worry, it's not like they were on Venus with a herd of Tholians or anything, they just like the extreme heat and brutal weather like acid rain and hurricane force winds as the norm. Oh, and definitely keep your eye out on any two-tailed foxes, because if they ain't glowing, they're definitely an imposter. Possibly an Undine, we caught one of those once in my place once. Oh, and if you find a two-tailed fox that doesn't like the cold... most certainly ask him to say sorry. If he refuses, DESTROY HIM WITH A DOOMSDAY MACHINE, BECAUSE THERE'S NOTHING ELSE THAT WOULD BE ENOUGH AGAINST SUCH AN OVERPOWERED IMPOSTER!
tr;dr, I am winning last post wins 3.0. Thank you for your time.
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colored text = mod mode
"My partner and I are investigating reports of a stolen shipment of quadrotriticale in the sector, and one eye witness has your description down to a tee. But, you're a Starfleet officer, so I'd be hard-pressed to believe any one of us would even do something like that. I just need a few moments in priviate, in the Security office to ask you a few questions. It's purely procedural."
Normally clear-headed, Aeris couldn't process the flip from intensity to warmth. There was something untrusting about that, but her instincts were telling her that she couldn't trust this man anyway. Then again that lack of trust could also be the trickled-down paranoia fed to her in her last meeting; she wasn't sure. Then again, she was never not sure.
Genuine confusion emanated from Lieutenant M'Konel regarding the stolen shipment. "Sure I'll go with you, though if I were going to steal something, it wouldnt be GMO grain." He gave her a pointed look, though it was not without a dash of charm. "And I'm sure you understand my need to take responsibility for any actions my crew take, so I'll be the only one being questioned at this time."
Had Aeris chosen that moment to look behind the Lieutenant to the bar, she might have noticed the Romulan Centurion had gone. M'Konel had kept the attention of both investigators squarely on him for the better part of two minutes, giving his engineer more than enough time to skedaddle.
Terry stood at a console, speaking with Hann, one of his Starfleet Bridge officers from the Kitana. "Repairs to the ship are complete. Will we be taking on any missions, Captain?"
"I haven't heard anything yet, and my business here isn't finished. Sit tight and I'll let you know," Terry suggested, thinking he'd like to get his postponed evaluation over-with. If he wasn't on his way to that, he'd be seeking out his next task.
Deactivating the communication, he turned and bumped into Admiral Nat. "Why don't you watch where you're---" But, then he got his bearings and pulled himself together. "Oh! Admiral. I should've watched where I was--- Well, you know how that sentence ends. It's a standard sentence. It has a beginning, middle and end. We don't always need the whole thing."
Aeris, Reeve and Elihu stood in the office, the two humans behind the desk; Reeve leaning against the wall, staying out of it, but hanging in to make sure things went smoothly.
"This should be quick." Then she turned to Reeve. "Commander, will you please excuse us?"
Shocked at such a request, since Aeris asked of him the complete opposite earlier, Reeve replied, "Uh, sure. I guess?" He was thinking he'd have to support her lie about the quadrotriticale, but with him not there, she would have to handle herself.
"Good," Aeris said as the doors shut behind Reeve. "Mr. M'Konel, the real reason I brought you here is because I saw you at the Food Court earlier. I'm not one to make blind accusations, but when I left that Food Court, I was filled with a sense of deep threat. We tracked a woman who fits the physical description of someone on your ship's manifest. Then, when I saw you at the club, my instincts recalled that sense and the emotions that went along with it. Let me explain. You see, I'm a rational thinker, and in command of how I feel. When those senses hit me out of nowhere, for no reason, I could only conclude someone else was responsible for them. That person is you. For some reason you're attempting to manipulate me. Somehow you're projecting." And then, off-the-cuff, she added, "You're a telepath."
"You're probably right. Captain Terry, I presume?"
Winning.
Oh, now don't tell me you want in on all this! Well, ok. Look this that Egg Pawn hanging outside your window, pointing his laser rifle at you, waiting for my next order. He's doing his part. He helps conquer the weak-minded. He roboticizes the weak-bodied. Heck, he even helps keep the useless people from causing any trouble, but you know what? Join. Find the closest Nataran Empire roboticization center near you and join the ranks, before the ranks find you. Oh, I know, you figure it must be so satisfying to know I basically rule the world now, and you know what? It is, but do you want to know the true definition of satisfaction? Well, let me tell you a little story. One day, you see a brand new event. They're giving out boxes that give old event stuff. Your dilithium is plentiful. You buy a whole lot of Phoenix packs on your main, and open them all. You get one epic token. Then, you decide, that since you have all the Breen ships and don't give a damn about the others, you exchange it for an ultra rare, and grab yourself a Jem'Hadar Attack Ship and for the hell of it, a Voth Bulwark. You open both, leaving the Bulwark in your vast masses of starships as you jump into the bugship and deck it out, deck by deck, into the most awesome Jem'Hadar ship you can. You fly it. You enjoy it. Eventually, you get bored and leave, leaving the old Bulwark never flown... until later. Your main is long complete. Your new alt main, based off some character you pulled out of nothing just to explain away some starship being in service without the command of your dear admiral, is also complete. Mostly. Their reps and doffs are hard at work, getting you stuff. You realize the potential, and head back for your dear admiral, pull the most Voth themed build you can out of thin air, and suit up in your giant ship in the shape of you know what. You head out... and cause all sorts of havoc. Enemies scream out your name as their very life is drained away by your swarms of Aceton Assimilators. They complain to the devs of your OPness when you revive yourself from death every time you die. Do you show any form of mercy? No. After all, this isn't the United Federation of Planets, this is mother frakkin' Starfleet, where you explore strange new worlds and kick butt never kicked before. Oh, and you realize that I just wrote another speech rivaling your own signature. Cool. Oh, wait, that's just the original draft, it is part of my signature now. Oh, and yes, I am aware that I have become a Canadian Regent; one day, sooner than you'd expect, we'll suddenly decide to take over the world and declare an "alliance", and I shall become it's Regent. You know, like the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance in the mirror universe of our beloved Star Trek. Oh, who'll we be taking over with? I dunno, maybe [REDACTED], or maybe aliens from outer space. Guess you'll have to wait and find out, won't we? Until then, don't ask too many questions, or else my Breen allies on Titania might pick up on your -- [REDACTED BY BREEN CONFEDERACY FOR REASONS] Also, psst... keep an eye out for flying Tribbles! Also walls. Big, great walls, separating entire continents apart. Walls patrolled by Tribbles. Flying Tribbles. Flying Nukara Tribbles. Don't worry, it's not like they were on Venus with a herd of Tholians or anything, they just like the extreme heat and brutal weather like acid rain and hurricane force winds as the norm. Oh, and definitely keep your eye out on any two-tailed foxes, because if they ain't glowing, they're definitely an imposter. Possibly an Undine, we caught one of those once in my place once. Oh, and if you find a two-tailed fox that doesn't like the cold... most certainly ask him to say sorry. If he refuses, DESTROY HIM WITH A DOOMSDAY MACHINE, BECAUSE THERE'S NOTHING ELSE THAT WOULD BE ENOUGH AGAINST SUCH AN OVERPOWERED IMPOSTER!
tr;dr, I am winning last post wins 3.0. Thank you for your time.
"Sure," was his only response, in addition to a vague nod.
He rarely ever lied, never really needed to. However, he was not going to make this easy for her. To him, it was a game. By now, Lydia M'Konel was back on board the Philadelphia. Elihu wondered if Lang made it back or if he was still puttering about in the food court. Knowing Lang, he was probably hitting on some hot Asian or Caitian.
He interlaced his hands in front of him as he leaned back in his chair, one elbow propped up on the back. "Oh, by the way, detaining someone for 'making you feel' is illegal, and also a little childish."
The admiral passes Terry a PADD.
"There's the briefing. It'll be a bit before we can actually move out, with the Firestorm in spacedock for repairs, so take your time, and..."
He takes a look at his PADD, which appears to be Terry's file.
"...let me know if you're ready for the mission. I'll go find the other captains in the meanwhile."
The admiral walks off to find the other two captains.
Winning.
Oh, now don't tell me you want in on all this! Well, ok. Look this that Egg Pawn hanging outside your window, pointing his laser rifle at you, waiting for my next order. He's doing his part. He helps conquer the weak-minded. He roboticizes the weak-bodied. Heck, he even helps keep the useless people from causing any trouble, but you know what? Join. Find the closest Nataran Empire roboticization center near you and join the ranks, before the ranks find you. Oh, I know, you figure it must be so satisfying to know I basically rule the world now, and you know what? It is, but do you want to know the true definition of satisfaction? Well, let me tell you a little story. One day, you see a brand new event. They're giving out boxes that give old event stuff. Your dilithium is plentiful. You buy a whole lot of Phoenix packs on your main, and open them all. You get one epic token. Then, you decide, that since you have all the Breen ships and don't give a damn about the others, you exchange it for an ultra rare, and grab yourself a Jem'Hadar Attack Ship and for the hell of it, a Voth Bulwark. You open both, leaving the Bulwark in your vast masses of starships as you jump into the bugship and deck it out, deck by deck, into the most awesome Jem'Hadar ship you can. You fly it. You enjoy it. Eventually, you get bored and leave, leaving the old Bulwark never flown... until later. Your main is long complete. Your new alt main, based off some character you pulled out of nothing just to explain away some starship being in service without the command of your dear admiral, is also complete. Mostly. Their reps and doffs are hard at work, getting you stuff. You realize the potential, and head back for your dear admiral, pull the most Voth themed build you can out of thin air, and suit up in your giant ship in the shape of you know what. You head out... and cause all sorts of havoc. Enemies scream out your name as their very life is drained away by your swarms of Aceton Assimilators. They complain to the devs of your OPness when you revive yourself from death every time you die. Do you show any form of mercy? No. After all, this isn't the United Federation of Planets, this is mother frakkin' Starfleet, where you explore strange new worlds and kick butt never kicked before. Oh, and you realize that I just wrote another speech rivaling your own signature. Cool. Oh, wait, that's just the original draft, it is part of my signature now. Oh, and yes, I am aware that I have become a Canadian Regent; one day, sooner than you'd expect, we'll suddenly decide to take over the world and declare an "alliance", and I shall become it's Regent. You know, like the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance in the mirror universe of our beloved Star Trek. Oh, who'll we be taking over with? I dunno, maybe [REDACTED], or maybe aliens from outer space. Guess you'll have to wait and find out, won't we? Until then, don't ask too many questions, or else my Breen allies on Titania might pick up on your -- [REDACTED BY BREEN CONFEDERACY FOR REASONS] Also, psst... keep an eye out for flying Tribbles! Also walls. Big, great walls, separating entire continents apart. Walls patrolled by Tribbles. Flying Tribbles. Flying Nukara Tribbles. Don't worry, it's not like they were on Venus with a herd of Tholians or anything, they just like the extreme heat and brutal weather like acid rain and hurricane force winds as the norm. Oh, and definitely keep your eye out on any two-tailed foxes, because if they ain't glowing, they're definitely an imposter. Possibly an Undine, we caught one of those once in my place once. Oh, and if you find a two-tailed fox that doesn't like the cold... most certainly ask him to say sorry. If he refuses, DESTROY HIM WITH A DOOMSDAY MACHINE, BECAUSE THERE'S NOTHING ELSE THAT WOULD BE ENOUGH AGAINST SUCH AN OVERPOWERED IMPOSTER!
tr;dr, I am winning last post wins 3.0. Thank you for your time.
"You're right, Lieutenant," Aeris replied, taking a moment to process his angle. "But that's no way to speak to a superior officer."
She paced for a second and then stopped.
"It was dishonest and perhaps childish of me to bring you here like this. But we live in a galaxy where telepathy is common, and it's the only non-tangible, non-provable mechanism there is. But it's also powerful and personal. I just needed to confirm your actions and ask you why? Why would you do this? You're either a man lacking of conscience or you're hiding something." Then, she added, "Or both. Either way, since you won't answer like a man, you're free to go. I'll have to get back to my investigation."
Operating on a hunch which her instincts enabled her to be sure of, she turned to her security screen displayed on the wall behind her desk. Before Elihu could leave, she spoke.
"Computer, bring up the surveillance video for Cargo Bay's 7 through 12 and display them in reverse order, each incrementally at 5 minutes before the other, starting at 0900 hours."
On it, displayed the bird's eye view of each cargo bay, and the many people going in and out of them. She touched the video for Cargo Bay 7, freezing it at the point the Romulan Centurion was fiddling with something in a crate in the back, then began freezing all the other videos. The same Romulan, with the same clothes, was in each bay, fiddling with a far away crate on each screen.
"What was your officer doing? What is your mission here?"
normal text = me speaking as fellow formite
colored text = mod mode
Terry looked at the PADD. He was glad to have a mission, finally, but to be put back into the heat of the Iconians was troublesome. As he walked, he noticed Commander Reeve staring through the windows of the doors to the Security office. They displayed surveillance video, which Reeve was reacting to.
"You know, in some cultures you could can just knock," Terry said.
Reeve shook his head. "I got what I needed." He tapped his commbadge. "Reeve to Security teams Alpha through Delta. Begin intensive scans and initiate searches of the cargo bays, starting with 7 through 12. Look for explosives, monitoring equipment, anything."
"Sounds serious," Terry said.
Reeve nodded before running off. "We'll see."
"I guess, so will I," Terry answered to himself, looking at the PADD in his hands.
Leiutenant M'Konel started to leave, ignoring her attempts to get him to react or fess up. However, when Aeris began talking to her computer, he stopped and turned. M'Konel watched the footage with a smile.
"Captain...you're not going to find anything. Moreover, your scanners will not tell you anything. In fact, when all is said and done, it will look like someone doctored the video footage. To put it bluntly, you have absolutely nothing. That code I gave your man... look it up. I mean really. But be careful what you do with it. When you figure out what it means, you'll have to make a choice: continue harassing my crew because you just must know what's going on, or understand that my mission has already been accomplished, and our goals are not mutually exclusive." Still smirking, M'Konel crossed his arms over his chest. "May I leave now, Captain?"
Aeris picked up Reeve's PADD report from Cargo Bay 7, referenced it and entered the Romulan's code into a general database search. Too determined to even care if M'Konel was still standing there, she read the incoming search results. "This is a Starfleet Intelligence code?"
To her surprise he was still there. Likely, to enjoy winning for a few more moments. She might find him attractive if the circumstances weren't so adversarial.
"You're working for Intelligence on something. That's what this is about! You're on a mission for them." She looked to the side in shock, in disbelief at what she was about to say. "I guess you can leave?"
But then the search monitor beeped, indicating the final results from her inquiry as complete. She looked one last time. From an intel category only released to Captains, was a depiction of an organization sharing the code. "The Tal Shiar!?"
Somehow, Starfleet Intelligence had enabled a Tal Shiar code, indicating this man having some kind of association with those pointy-eared barbarians.
Turning and narrowing her eyes at M'Konel, she tapped her commbadge and commanded: "Computer, lock down this room with a Level 10 force field. Aeris to any available officers, I need an established guard around the Security Office."
Anger. Shock. Anxiety. Bitterness.
Those were the emotions emanating from the security captain. Oh, and one more: Hate.
And it was a certain type of hate that Elihu knew well.
RAGE.
Though he didn't move a muscle and his visage remained neutral, the part-Romulan's rage permeated the room; it flooded the atmosphere like a black tsunami. And M'Konel made damn certain it penetrated the woman's bones, turning her anger and nervousness into outright fear.
In an almost too-calm tone, M'Konel whispered, "Do what you like, but don't feel that way about the Romulans, nor the Tal'Shiar. You will apologize, or I will cripple your mind with fear for the rest of your life. Trust me, it's not pleasant."
M'Konel was not actually sure he could do that, but his confidence was absolute. His Vulcan psionic abilities were able to amplify his Betazoid empathic ones, though he too was quickly becoming overcome with emotion. If his father were here, he'd reprimand him for not adhering to strict Vulcan logic and submitting to his Betazoid and human volatility.
He almost hoped Aeris disobeyed. He could already feel his mind reaching into hers, searching her darkest fears, as the feeling of total terror hung heavy like molasses around her.
Winning.
Oh, now don't tell me you want in on all this! Well, ok. Look this that Egg Pawn hanging outside your window, pointing his laser rifle at you, waiting for my next order. He's doing his part. He helps conquer the weak-minded. He roboticizes the weak-bodied. Heck, he even helps keep the useless people from causing any trouble, but you know what? Join. Find the closest Nataran Empire roboticization center near you and join the ranks, before the ranks find you. Oh, I know, you figure it must be so satisfying to know I basically rule the world now, and you know what? It is, but do you want to know the true definition of satisfaction? Well, let me tell you a little story. One day, you see a brand new event. They're giving out boxes that give old event stuff. Your dilithium is plentiful. You buy a whole lot of Phoenix packs on your main, and open them all. You get one epic token. Then, you decide, that since you have all the Breen ships and don't give a damn about the others, you exchange it for an ultra rare, and grab yourself a Jem'Hadar Attack Ship and for the hell of it, a Voth Bulwark. You open both, leaving the Bulwark in your vast masses of starships as you jump into the bugship and deck it out, deck by deck, into the most awesome Jem'Hadar ship you can. You fly it. You enjoy it. Eventually, you get bored and leave, leaving the old Bulwark never flown... until later. Your main is long complete. Your new alt main, based off some character you pulled out of nothing just to explain away some starship being in service without the command of your dear admiral, is also complete. Mostly. Their reps and doffs are hard at work, getting you stuff. You realize the potential, and head back for your dear admiral, pull the most Voth themed build you can out of thin air, and suit up in your giant ship in the shape of you know what. You head out... and cause all sorts of havoc. Enemies scream out your name as their very life is drained away by your swarms of Aceton Assimilators. They complain to the devs of your OPness when you revive yourself from death every time you die. Do you show any form of mercy? No. After all, this isn't the United Federation of Planets, this is mother frakkin' Starfleet, where you explore strange new worlds and kick butt never kicked before. Oh, and you realize that I just wrote another speech rivaling your own signature. Cool. Oh, wait, that's just the original draft, it is part of my signature now. Oh, and yes, I am aware that I have become a Canadian Regent; one day, sooner than you'd expect, we'll suddenly decide to take over the world and declare an "alliance", and I shall become it's Regent. You know, like the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance in the mirror universe of our beloved Star Trek. Oh, who'll we be taking over with? I dunno, maybe [REDACTED], or maybe aliens from outer space. Guess you'll have to wait and find out, won't we? Until then, don't ask too many questions, or else my Breen allies on Titania might pick up on your -- [REDACTED BY BREEN CONFEDERACY FOR REASONS] Also, psst... keep an eye out for flying Tribbles! Also walls. Big, great walls, separating entire continents apart. Walls patrolled by Tribbles. Flying Tribbles. Flying Nukara Tribbles. Don't worry, it's not like they were on Venus with a herd of Tholians or anything, they just like the extreme heat and brutal weather like acid rain and hurricane force winds as the norm. Oh, and definitely keep your eye out on any two-tailed foxes, because if they ain't glowing, they're definitely an imposter. Possibly an Undine, we caught one of those once in my place once. Oh, and if you find a two-tailed fox that doesn't like the cold... most certainly ask him to say sorry. If he refuses, DESTROY HIM WITH A DOOMSDAY MACHINE, BECAUSE THERE'S NOTHING ELSE THAT WOULD BE ENOUGH AGAINST SUCH AN OVERPOWERED IMPOSTER!
tr;dr, I am winning last post wins 3.0. Thank you for your time.
Admiral Dareau enters, and sees Thoreau sitting at a table, with two plates set out. As she's staring intently into a PADD and eating from one, the other seat is unoccupied. Ardrian slides into that seat.
"So Commander," Ardrian says by way of introduction, "requisitions filed to finish off the Paradise's refit?"
Thoreau barely looks up, though the slight shift of her head ruffles her hair enough to show off the glint of exposed android control systems. "Dang bureaucracy, acknowledged the remaining requests to replate the hull and complete the upgrade, and they've moved the supplies to Cargo Bay 11. However, there seems to be an... issue... with which slipway we're going to occupy for the process. Other ships have higher priorities than us, it seems."
As Ardrian fidgits with his collar, she continues "And I don't know exactly what's more important than the completion of the 7th Fleet's flagship? At this rate, we're going to miss our scheduled 'show the flag' over Lukari, and yes, I did remind the Captain of the yards of the importance of our task."
She crunches into a block from her plate. "Firestorm and Lexington are having their repair schedules accelerated for some unknown reason, and the 'good' Captain isn't exactly being forthcoming as to why their repairs are more important than ours."
"Diplomacy doesn't carry the weight it used to." Ardrian deadpans, "And neither does this fifth pip."
"So no word in the 'big shot' lounge?"
"Nope. Classified is classified. Combat's more important than diplomacy. I'll need some orders written up for the Ride the Wind, looks like our Vesta class is gonna have to do 'our' song and dance. At least she's still sciencey instead of all guns and armor."
As Ardrian takes a big bite of his now cold steak, Thoreau finally looks straight at him, somewhat quizzically. "Lady," Ardrian sorta smirks out between bites, "I'll swing through Sugihara's office and lodge the requisite complaint. I'm sure you'll know exactly which slipway we can 'commandeer' before I'm done eating..."
"13."
"...so that they know where to put our ship."
Thoreau smiles, knowingly. "Kimmy's chomping at the bit..."
"How many times do I have to remind you to fix your 'informality' program?"
"You started it, sir... Engineer Bowman has forgone her leave, as usual, to complain about the inefficiencies of the Spacedock staff. She also has her entire staff waiting for her call. She's told me that it should take her three point..."
"And with over a day till we get slipway 13, we'll still miss our visit. Tell Bowman to relax, her humanity needs at least a day off. That Andorian assistant of hers can get the ship there and started."
"She'll object".
Ardrian just shrugs his shoulders in a 'whatever' move, as he finally decides to dive into his meal...
To rob a line: [quote: Mariemaia Kushrenada] Forum Posting is much like an endless waltz. The three beats of war, peace and revolution continue on forever. However, opinions will change upon the reading of my post.[/quote]
"Are you sure, Centurion?" Ensign Nel Kestral questioned her acting-XO.
From the captain's chair, Centurion M'Konel cast a glower over at the Ops officer. "What do you mean, 'Am I sure'? Of course I am!"
Ensign Nel Kestral, a human female with shoulder-length blond hair, cast a worried glance over to Ensign Daniel Benson at tactical. Ensign Benson was a tall, handsome brown-haired man. He shrugged minutely but returned his attention to his station.
The relief helmsman, Crewman Matt Archer, acknowledged the last given order. "Aye, sir. Moving away from spacedock at one-quarter impulse."
"Don't worry," M'Konel reassured her bridge crew. "We're not leaving him. But if he can't talk his way outta custody, we do not want to be tethered to the station. Once we're at a safe distance, raise shields, Mister Benson."
Benson said, "That will draw their attention, sir."
M'Konel smirked. "I know. Is Lang still aboard the station?"
"Aye," answered Kestral.
Nodding, M'Konel stood and tapped her badge. "Philadelphia to Lieutenant Lang."
"What the hell, Lydia? You didn't feel like waiting for your chief engineer before disembarking?"
"Shut up. Spacedock security has Elihu. Do what you can but don't do anything illegal."
"What? Why is he in custody? What did you get him involv--?!"
M'Konel interrupted, "Thank you, Lieutenant. Knew I could count on you. Philadelphia out."
"I won't apologize," answered Aeris, suddenly feeling the pressure of M'Konel's psionic abilities beginning to overtake her. "You just admitted to a secret operation aboard Spacedock and then to surveillance tampering. And now you're threatening me. Starfleet asked me to investigate this station for exactly what you've done. Using fear to control me sounds a lot like terrorism. I don't know what you did in those Cargo Bays, but I can't see how it can possibly be not mutually exclusive."
Then the drill began into her mind. She began involuntarily sifting through her memories; ones she pushed back as far as she could. She fell back into her chair and grasped her head, completely forgetting what she was talking about or what she just said.
"I don't--- hate-- the Romulans--- It's the-- Tal Sh--- air. --I'll never-- forgive them--- for--- ugh, what they did to my-- crew." Without will, she recalled a complete Tal Shiar take-over of the Zephyra, just last year; one of the most horrifying experiences of her life.
Not like she had anything better to do right now anyways.
normal text = me speaking as fellow formite
colored text = mod mode