Once Upon A Simm

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Once Upon A Simm

Postby RayneTiger » Mon Mar 28, 2011 12:16 am

This thread is for posting old posts that you are especially proud of or had a lot of fun doing. Please remember to add the character which is yours, what ship, position, and simm you were in at the time, as well as Fleet if you wrote it outside of HF, as a signature at the bottom. Also include credit for any other writers with their character name and position as well, if it's a joint post. Just click reply and let us see what you've got!

*Please note that Horizon Fleet is rated 13+ and all posts need to be age viewing appropriate.
"The truth is rarely pure, and never simple."

Lt. Rayne Tiger
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USS Tigris

Lt. JG Malia Jacy
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Re: Once Upon A Simm

Postby Alexandra_Vance » Mon Mar 28, 2011 12:50 am

This was when I was on the Orlando. Between myself the counselor and the MCO Greg jackson.

<<USS Orlando, Shoreleave, TBD>>

Groaning mentally to himself, Greg reached out with a hand and touched the admitance chime to the Counsolars office, he had put it off his annual evaluation as long as he could.

Myralia was at her desk once again reviewing reports when the door chime sounded. She tapped her console and neatly stacked a few PADD's on her desk. She turned on her chair towards the door. "Come in please." she said.

Greg entered the room and nodded at the woman sitting at the desk, "Captain Greg Jackson, reporting for my annual evaluation."

Myralia rose from her seat. "Please Captain relax. I thank you for the introduction however I try to keep the formalities to a minimum here." She pointed her hand at two chairs on the far side of the room. "Please have a seat, can I get you anything?"

"A cup of coffee, black," Greg said as he sat down in one of the chairs, taking a glance around the office.

Myralia walked over to the replicator and ordered the Captain's coffee. She brought it over and handed it to him before retrieving her own tea and taking a seat across from him. The Marines were always the department she worried about the most. The combat they experienced often led to cases of PTSD or other mental ailments and they also seemed to be the leading department in relationship issues with either family or lovers. She hoped this was not the case here.

"Well Captain, tell me how long have you served on Orlando?" she asked.

"Since she was recommissioned, under Captain Androski," Greg replied sipping on his coffee.

"I see. How have things been for you while serving? Did you adjust well to change? Have there been any significant events you would like to discuss?" she asked.

"Except for the shock of being made an officer, with my background, things have been fine, except for a certain, annoying officer who I won't name by name," Greg replied, "I've been fine as for major events, nothing I would like to talk about, but that isn't going to stop you from prying into them."

"Captain, I am not here to annoy you or torment you. My goal is to ensure you and the rest of this crew get the help they need. Too many times have a seen an individual too full of pride fall apart at the wrong moments. I want you to feel confident in your life. I assure you anything you disclose here is kept private."

Myralia could tell the Captain had never been an open person. She guessed that he only ever stepped into a counselors office just so he could say he had done his yearly evaluation, whether or not he ever got help or ever needed it still remained to be seen. "Tell me about your background, what makes becoming an officer so shocking? and this officer, does he or she still serve on Orlando or did you meet him or her elsewhere?"

"Ma'am, I was a grunt, I enlisted in the Corps as a private straight out of highschool. I've fought across the breadth of the Federation, been in battles that have made the headlines and others that won't be remembered except by those who fought in them. I know you Counselors mean well, and I've seen Marines we've sent you come back and able to function as soldiers again. It's not you, but have how much combat have you seen, and I don't mean the type where a faint prick of light flares marking the destruction of an enemy ship, but the down and dirty fighting Marines are trained for," Greg said looking about at the betazoid, his emotions keep firmly in check by force of will.

"Some of the greatest leaders were born from the ranks. It is your experience that has shaped you into what you are today and will allow you to make the tough decisions. Most soldier's gain a great deal of confidence knowing their leader has seen what they are going through, I have even seen some confide in them for advice." she paused briefly noting the overwhelming wave of emotions brewing within the marine.

"I may not be experienced in combat, but I know all to well what it does to soldiers, families and lovers. The sacrifices you make each and everytime you are called upon display a level of selflessness and dedication only few people have and others can only dream about. You fight so hard for peace, so valiantly so that I do not have to. Yet you deny yourself the gift of inner peace." Myralia looked down scratching her forehead trying to fight back tears of her own, she knew the session with the marine CO would be the hardest, they had a special place in her heart.

She gazed back upon the Captain. "In return, I wish to help you find that peace in which combat has so selfishly denied you. Keep in mind, not all battles are fought on a battlefield in which one can see, not all fights are against an enemy you can touch."

Greg gave the Consoular a tight smile, "Then where do you want me to begin."

Myralia took a second to regain her composure. "Well Captain. Have you ever experienced any flashbacks? Do you have any deep regrets about something you have done? You mentioned an annoying officer before, does he or she serve here? What about him or her bothers you?" she asked hoping to gain a better idea of the Captain's state of mind.

"I have dreams if that's what you mean, the only flashbacks when I've been awake where caused by an unknown alien life form that boarded the ship. As for regrets, not really, or at least nothing I can change any longer. As for the officer, yes he does, as for what bothers me about him." Greg shrugged his shoulders, "He still views Starfleet as a beacon of exploration, and peace."

Myralia was slightly concerned with his answer. "And how do you view Starfleet?"

"Starfleet's turned in a defense force, everywhere you look we have enemies, Romulans, Cardassians, Dominion, Borg, now the Elyshans. A person today isn't going to the see the exploration that the early days of Starfleet saw, that exploration is more then likely going to be replaced by constant patrols along the border as Starfleet gears up to face the next big threat to security," Greg replied shrugging his shoulders.

Myralia could not help but agree with the Captain's statement. The increasing threats were causing Starfleet to limit it's exploration missions. "Captain do you believe we will ever return to a peaceful state? Is this a goal of yours or is combat something you thrive on?" she asked.

"I don't know if I'll see a peaceful state," Greg said with a sigh, "but yes, if I could put down my weapon and hang up my uniform and know that my adopted daughter could live in safety I would do it in a heart beat."

Myralia smiled at the mention of his daughter. "A daughter! How old is she?" She was also warmed by the Captain's outlook on his job and his concern for his child. The mere mention of her gave Myralia a sense of a strong bond between the two.

"She's fourteen, and currently visiting my folks on Earth getting spoiled rotten by them," he said with a smile as he thought of his parents bending over backwards for Kayla.

"When is she due back on Orlando Captain?" Myralia asked. The Captain's demeanour had changed considerably at the mention of his daughter. Myralia felt relieved that the Captain had her in his life allowing some relief from the daily stress a marine could encounter.

"A Couple of days before we leave space dock. We pulled her off the future Earth," Greg replied, "We found her and the Captain's adopted son, and got them off the planet."

"I am not familiar with the mission Captain would you be able to give me a quick synopsis? How has she adjusted to her new environment?" Myralia was surprised by the revelation. She had not seen such a circumstance before as some would argue it directly violates the Prime Directive. However Myralia's interest was not in politics.

"Not, much to tell, sucked through some time thing, and ended up in the future where the Federation was loosing badly to the Elyshans. Earth had fallen massed planetary bombardment, we beamed down to look around, and one of my Marines thought she saw movement down a hole. Went down found both Kayla and Jaden, brought them aboard, and then with the help of some future Starfleet ships got back home again." Greg paused at the her other question before answering it, "She's seems to be adjusting well, but still has nightmares about what happened on Earth."

Myralia looked back at him concernedly. Recurring nightmares were something a child should not have to experience. She guessed this would be the first opportunity for Kayla to be helped. "Captain, can you describe her reactions to these nightmares? Are they only during her sleep or have they manifested into day dreams?

"She just wakes up with a nightmare, takes her awhile to calm down and go back to sleep, I know she's talked to some Counselor's about it, and dad said she had opened up slightly with him. As far as I know they only happen at night," Greg replied to the Myralia's question.

"Has she ever mentioned to anyone any of the specific details of the nightmares? With your permission I would like to speak with Kayla sometime and hopefully help her to stop these. A small child should not have to live with such horrific imagery."

"You have my permission as long as Kayla's all right with it," Greg replied with a nod of his head.

"Well then I would ask you to speak with her and if she is alright with it I will book her in as soon as possible." Myralia said smiling hoping to reassure the captain.

"I will," Greg said with a nod of his head, before his he decided to see if she would answer a question he had always had. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course." she replied.

"Who counsels the counselor?," he asked having noticed her earlier pain.

Myralia was surprised by his question. She must have given off a greater tell earlier regarding her feelings about Marines then she thought.

"Well Captain, I like to start by talking with friends of any troubles I have. Failing that I would contact old friends of mine in counselling to seek guidance and if I feel the situation is serious enough I would go to the nearest starbase or ship to speak one on one with another counselor in person. However to this point I have never had to do such a thing." Myralia said recovering.

"Well Captain, is there anything else I can help you with?" she asked satisfied he was sound of mind as well as to divert his curiosity from her.

"No," Greg said standing up, "Just that if you ever want to talk let me know."

Myralia nodded with appreciation to the Captain's offer. She was relieved the session went smoothly and the Captain was in good mental health.

"Thank you very much Captain I look forward to talking with you again perhaps in a less formal setting next time." Myralia said rising from her chair.

"Hopefully not until next year for a formal setting," Greg said with a grin as he reached out and patted her shoulder, "But I would love to talk with you less formally sometime."

Myralia placed her hand on the marines arm and gave him a warm smile. "I would like that very much Captain and hopefully this will only be an annual event." she said chuckling.

"Feel free to contact me at anytime." she continued as she and the Captain walked towards the door.

"If I need to I'll call," Greg said as he neared the door, before taking the Cousolar's hand in his and kissing the back of it, the old Southern gentlemen coming out, beneath the rugged Marine appearance. "Until we meet again, ma'am."

Myralia blushed flattered by the sudden display of gentlemanship. "I look forward to it Captain." The doors slid open and the Captain slowly stepped out.

Myralia giggled when they closed again. She was totally caught offguard by his romantic behavior despite being a telepath. She let out a small laugh as she thought about seeing him for another "session" again.

JP By:
Lt(JG). Myralia Constantine
Chief Counselor
USS Orlando

Marine Captain Greg Jackson
Marine CO
"Sometimes the shortest route is not always the wisest decision."

Commander Alexandra Vance
Executive Officer
USS Niagara NCC-80485
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Re: Once Upon A Simm

Postby Alexandra_Vance » Mon Mar 28, 2011 12:54 am

Longest JP ever :P Awesome to write though. Between myself and R'Sera Nieth CMO on the Orlando.

<Starbase 386, Holosuite 1, Shore leave Day 1>

"What sort of vessel, if I may?" Anara asked, beginning to relax. Ship talk was a comfort zone to the veteran pilot. The men took seats next to their respective dates, leaning on the bar and holding their drinks.

"It is a modest yacht." Kailo responded. "We harness the power of the ample wind of this region to travel silently and gracefully through the seas.

Anara was not used to Terran alcohol flavoring, but was nevertheless intrigued with the margarita as a whole. She smiled as she sipped it slowly, taking in his description thoughtfully.

"Good to see you like it. Risa has the best beverages." The islander said in his deep voice. "What vessel do you sail from?"

Roen glanced over with a smile at her counselor friend, not sure of the response sought.

Myralia could sense Anara had begun to calm down. She ventured to guess it was either due to the alcohol or the ship talk. Either way she was pleased with the results. "We came here with friends on a sailboat ourselves. They have ventured off to do some deep sea exploring, Anara and I wished to stay here and enjoy the sun and a few drinks. Later on when they return we may go out onto the sea. Anara here is quite the helmsman you know."

Anara nodded with a smile. She was catching on to the scenario now. "Is it a fast yacht. I like em fast." She chuckled in a flirty manner. The islander man laughed a deep laugh before responding.

"You are a firey one aren't you. I like that and yes, the Yigo is fast enough to be fun. We are in the tropics, so speed is not all that important. Every day is the same and they are all nice and relaxed."

"I see." Anara responded. "It is different here. So much slower and more peaceful."

Myralia looked over to Anara. "You know you can't always live life at the speed of light. If you did, you would never remember anything and before you knew it you would be old and gray. Sometimes you have to take time out to enjoy the simple pleasures."

Her companion raised his glass. "Here, here well said lass. You know where I'm from, there are green fields as far as the eye can see. When the wind blows across them it makes the grass wave like an ocean. There are also ancient ruins and old castles throughout the land that make for quite an adventure. Have any of you lasses ever been on an expedition?"

Anara shifted and wrapped her cover shirt overlapping her lap. "I guess you could say we have." She smirked, glancing at Myralia, then back at him with a coy expression. "Would you be inviting us along for one? I couldn't resist a good trip."

The man's face lit up instantly and he rose from his seat. "Aye lass that be a great idea! I happen to know of a castle not far from here. A great place to find some hidden treasures perhaps."

Myralia turned grinning at Roen. "How about it Anara? feel like seeing what else Risa has to offer?"

She nodded. "Sounds good to me. What is this "Castle? I am not familiar with the term." Anara assumed it was some sort of ancient structure but had not seen one before to base the mental image on.

The group stood up and waited for Roen to straighten her cover up, still slightly self consciously as they began to walk. It was apparent to her friend that she was fighting habit.

Myralia rose from her seat and wrapped her shawl around her waist. She noted Anara was not as liberal with her cover shirt as Myralia was, but this was also comparing a Bajoran to a Betazoid. "Anara a castle is a primitive type of fortress used by humans around the 13th and 14th centuries on earth. Usually these buildings were home to great monarchs and wealthy nobleman. However here on Risa I believe this castle might have been the result of a settlement from early human colonists. My history is a little rough but I could look into for you if you would like."

Her companion looked at her astonished. "Lass you seem to know an awful lot about history especially that of earth. Have you ever been there?"

Myralia turned to him. "No I read a lot of books when I was young. My father was human and had a particular interest in the earth period known as the "Medieval Times." He would often read me stories of knights and dragons and powerful kingdoms. I always enjoyed hearing them, sometimes more than once."

Roen nodded understandingly. This was sounding more and more intriguing as they walked in the tropical sun. The foliage transitioned from coastal sand based plants to rock borne trees and low growth as it developed into a trail up a gentle hillside. The wind increased to a steady trade wind as they overlooked the bay.

After a while she stopped to take in the view with her group realizing a moment later.

Myralia stepped up near the edge of the cliff and gazed at the water. Small waves glided across the bay, softly crashing once they reached the rockface. A couple boats could been seen in the distance, one appeared to be out for a fishing trip, the other a joyride. The group began to travel ahead when Myralia looked back to see her lost in the scenery. "Are you coming along ?"

"Oh, Sorry." Anara said in a distracted tone, then moving back into focus. "It's just so...scenic."

Myralia smiled. "There is so much more to be seen, come one." She said waving her hand.

Anara turned back to the trail and they resumed their trip to the destination. The castle was a fair distance away, which seemed to affect Myralia more than the more conditioned bajoran. Marching was a part of her training, albeit with much heavier attire and equipment. After a while she reached over and put a hand behind the betazoid to help her along.

"We don't get many marches in the fleet do we?" Roen joked. Their companions slowed a little to compensate but didn't lose any of their smile.

"My job doesn't always give me the liberty of taking time out to do marches but based on your condition I will guess Bajoran military fitness standards are most likely higher than those of the federation."

Anara laughed. "Seems like it. I try to jog at least two miles a day to keep up with it. I think we are almost there." She straightened up. "Computer, Water canteen." She commanded and the canister appeared. Handing it to her friend, Roen commented "I wish I could have done that on exercises."

Myralia let out a broken laugh still panting from the walk. "Thank goodness for the holodeck then!" She took a drink from the canteen and pressed on forward.

The supportive side was something that most of her fleet shipmates did not see often. During the militia days however, Anara was a bit more open about such things, particularly on marches and ground ops.

"How much farther up is it?" Anara asked her trail guide out of curiosity.

"Not too far, Lass." He replied, standing with a foot on a rock. "Are you enjoying the trip? This is one of the nicest coastal ridge lines in the area."

"Yes, very much so." Myralia beamed. "No matter how many times I come here, it never loses it beauty."

"Good." The man replied with a big smile. "I hoped you would."

Anara interrupted. "Is that it up ahead there? That is quite an outpost if I do say so."

"Outpost?!" Myralia said laughing. "That is no outpost, that was probably quite the stronghold back in it's day.

Anara raised an eyebrow and nodded in correction. "I see. Perhaps my perspective is a little off? What sort of situation demanded such an installation here? It seems so peaceful."

Myralia giggled. "Well now it would serve more as an outpost given some of the current structures. As for this one I can't say I know why it is here. Maybe one day we will look through the databases and find out. I think you'll find other cultures history quite interesting. If anything I find it a good way to lose yourself in the moment."

"Perhaps." The bajoran nodded thoughtfully. "Anthropological history is sometimes interesting, particularly in the militaristic end of things." The soldier thinking was very closely ingrained. "Terran history contains a great many case studies of such things. Admiral Halsey...Greg Boyington, etc. Great uses of small numbers for strong success."

Myralia remembered a story she had once read about a battle involving Spartans and Persians. "Yes I am familiar with one such story. It involves two groups, one known as the Spartans, one known as the Persians. Legend has it the Spartans, a force of only 300 managed to overcome the Persians, a force of 10,000 through the strategic use of a mountain pass in what was known then as a 'bottle-necking' technique. The strategy would be used several times as history went on."

"I have not studied that far back, but it sounds intriguing." Roen replied. "What time does your ship arrive?" She asked, realizing what time had gone by. "I don't have to be on Malinche til tomorrow, though we don't know by the day in here."

Myralia turned to see the bewildered look on the two men's faces. She began to giggle. "Computer freeze program." she turned back to Anara. "Unfortunately I have not heard word of the Orlando's arrival. I am just passing the time until she arrives. Playing it moment by moment you could say." she replied with a smirk.

"Interesting that they would not have an ETA posted. Perhaps the Elyshans disrupted such information. In any event, we are here still." Anara also looked at the men with a smirk and a rib. "A handy thing that. If only we could do that to men in real life." Changing the subject a little, she pointed at the horizon. "How much longer do you predict we have of daylight?"

Myralia was puzzled and shocked by Anara's statement. She had not received word of the Elyshans blocking any communications or of any threat from them. "The Elyshans? What do they have to do with this conflict?" she asked full of curiosity and worry. She had heard many stories before about the Elyshans and there use of subspace weapons.

Anara thought for a moment whether or not she misspoke. Deciding she was alright, continued. "The Malinche was freed from moorings to assist in the Elyshan standoff, so it would seem logical that the Orlando could have been thus affected."

"Computer, current program time?" Anara asked.

"The current program time is 1900 hours." The computer replied.

"We have 2 hours of light left. The sun will start to set at approximately 2030." Myralia said replying to her friend's earlier question. She could only hope this standoff would not negatively affect the Orlando but she had to prepare for the possibility.

"Computer resume program." she said and the group continued on towards their destination."

"Well, my lovelies, we have arrived." One of the men stated with a big smile. "Worth the trip, I hope?"

Anara smiled also. The cliff was easily near five hundred feet high with ocean on the sun facing side as they stood at a stone railing. "It is. This is a truly remarkable location. We must have a 20km visibility from here. Look how small the resort is!" She laughed and pointed back down the valley.

Myralia walked over to Anara and leaned her head towards her ear. "It's kind of like looking at your home world the first time you leave it isn't it?

"Indeed. The first time flying for me, though sightseeing was hardly on my mind. Atmo flying was so much more interesting for that reason." Anara said thoughtfully.

"Are you gentlemen going to show us the tour of this place?" Anara asked with a smile, looking up at the one man who smiled back.

"Aye Lass, I thought you'd never ask!" he replied. The man pointed to a collapsed wall and led them towards the structure. When the group stepped through the wall they found themselves in what appeared to be an old fashioned dining room.

Myralia walked towards the large table in the middle of the room. She was surprised to see there was still plates and silverware left behind, possibly in the last place they were used. She rubbed her across the various wares. "Just imagine how long these things have been here. Imagine who used them, Kings? Queens? Noblemen and now us."

Roen smirked. "Makes you feel royal, doesn't it? I can only imagine what that era would have felt like. Let's go up to the observation area." She suggested. "How do we get there?" She turned to ask one of their guides.

Myralia smiled and nodded in agreement.

The guide pointed to a tower in the wing adjacent from them. "There should be a staircase to the top of that tower lass. Be weary though as it hasn't been maintained in almost ten centuries so I would advice you be careful to mind your footing." he replied.

The bajoran smirked. "These sandals don't grip like my boots either." She said as she led the group up the stairs. Once up top, she went to the edge of the rail and put her arms out to the breeze and sunset. "This is incredible up here. You don't get this from a ship."

Myralia placed herself beside Roen. "That all depends on what kind of ship you are travelling on. Early vessels used to have a spot on the mast known as the crow's nest. It was designed for the lookouts. The view is quite extraordinary and on a perfect day I can think of no place on a ship I'd rather be." she smirked as a thought crossed her mind. Next to the holodeck.

"Narlen wouldn't recognize this side of m..." Anara began to say then stopped herself. Thus far she hadn't mentioned anything about him but it just came out.

"He was my wingman in the squadron. "We flew together almost from the academy until...the accident. We were close, but he would not know what to make of me like...this."

Myralia could sense that Narlen was more to Anara than she was letting on. Her feelings for him were very deep. She figured he was either her lover or a family member, perhaps a brother. The feelings she were sensing were not those one would normally feel towards a paternal figure. Underneath all her feelings she could also sense tension, this appeared to be the source of her anger and depression.

"Computer freeze program. Anara, please tell me more about Narlen. Was he family? A Lover? and what of this accident? Either way I am sure knowing you, he would be very pleased to see you having fun." she paused giving Roen a chance to collect her thoughts.

Anara was a little surprised to have the program freeze but turned and leaned on the wall. "He was my lover I guess you could say. He was the only pilot who I ever felt a connection with in that way. Most are too impulsive to make a good relationship. We were on track to be engaged when the accident happened. I don't know what to think about that, the borg or the crew that worked on his fighter."

"In any event, he never saw me out of uniform beyond my off duty militia clothing. If he saw me like this I don't know what he would do." She joked, skimming past the negative.

Anara emotions were filled with anger. However these emotions were not the type one has had buried for several years, they had been stirred quite recently. "Surely if it was the borg it was no accident. However what would lead you to suspect the crew?"

"I preflighted the wing's ships like always, followed by Narlen as was protocol. All systems checked normal, but the master power control was repaired from some
prior malfunctions along with wingman two's craft. They checked normal, but when we got into range and began taking shield hits both of theirs failed and mine did not." She stopped momentarily to catch her emotions. The apparent tension made her turn away and place her hands on the wall of the overlook.

"That was the worst feeling I could have imagined." Anara continued with a tear trying to come out. "He shouted on the comm that his system was dead right before they were both destroyed. I can still hear his voice and the feeling of being so alone out there. I barely managed to make it back to the ship before breaking down emotionally."

Myralia inched closer to Anara and placed her hand on her back. "Sadly Anara, these kind of accidents happen and all we can do is be more vigilant the next time. Were there any kind of formal inquiries filed against any of the maintenance crews?" She noticed a tear running down Anara's face. This was getting more serious than she had imagined. She needed to make an assessment quickly and speak with Malinche's counselor if necessary. "Anara, do you hear any voices during you day or while sleeping? Have you experienced any vivid dreams or apparent hallucinations?"

The bajoran shook her head. "No, just flashbacks. I have made it a point to be vigilant about my tasks and my crews even moreso since then." She paused to gather her thoughts, then continued. "Because I insisted, there was a formal JAG investigation but since the ships were destroyed there was little if any evidence to support a charge. They placed the ground crew on disciplinary suspension and I hoped that was enough for me."

Myralia was concerned by Anara's flashbacks. Drowning one self in work was not Myralia's recommended treatment for this condition, if anything it would place others in danger. "Anara do you feel as though you have closure on the incident or are you still having a great deal of trouble dealing with it?"

"No, it didn't. I have had little closure. Getting close to anyone was hard before but that made it even harder.

"Anara when and how often do you have these flashbacks? Can you describe your reactions to them when they occur?" As per protocol Myralia would have to seek out the Malinche's counselor immediately after her time on the holodeck to discuss her findings. However she would need Anara's permission before divulging any specific details of the session."

Anara thought for a moment how to word her response. "I visualize walking the preflights and imagine how it would have been different but don't know how. Then I picture the three of us in formation chasing the sphere closely, weaving between torpedo and phaser blasts. Then, it happens." She closed her eyes and sighed, placing her hands on her head, eventually looking through spread fingers.

"I often find myself checking my technicians and pilots with a fine-tooth comb on the chance that could happen again. If it was the enemy that killed those two pilots I would miss them but it would have been at least the decent way to go. This, this is...unacceptable. That is the only word for it. I can't accept it."

Myralia ran her hand through her hair. The visualizations that Roen was having were not severe enough to indicate any form of PTSD however at first glance it appeared she was having troubles coping with her past. "Anara, when you do your extra flight checks of the crew do you feel as though you are doing this hoping to change the past or it's effect it is having on you?"

She thought for a moment. "I never thought of it that way. The thought does nag at me all the time that if I did it better he would still be here. I let him, I let them...down." Anara slid down the wall til she sat on the floor, leaning over her knees. "It was me! It was my fault! I could have prevented it. I let my wing down. I...failed him." The emotions that had built up for years were coming out in force. "I miss him so much."

Myralia kneeled down in front of Roen and grabbed her hands. "Hey now, let's talk about this, there is no need to be angered or shift blame around." She was beginning to see the symptoms of psychological projection. It now appeared that over the years Anara had felt at fault for possibly missing something during her pre-flight checks of the ships.

Unfortunately Myralia was not qualified to make an assessment on the incident itself however she guessed from Anara's eyes she saw it as a collective failure of both the shuttle technician and herself. However Roen was a very confident leader and took great pride in those qualities. Roen, at some point after the accident must have felt the need to shift her part of the blame to the shuttle technician, perhaps out of anger, the need to preserve her confidence and pride or both.

She would have to continue pressing Anara for the answer in order to provide as much clarity as possible. "Computer, return us to the beach we started on placing us near a tree for shade with 2 sun chairs." Suddenly the scenery changed and the pair found themselves on the beach. Myralia led Anara over to the chair.

"Lay down here please." she helped her into the chair and placed her's right beside Roen's. "Now Anara. I am going to start asking some tough questions I need you to realize I am doing this to help you alright?"

The bajoran sighed as she sat down, folding her arms with a nod.

"Okay, Anara I want you to tell me exactly how you feel about this situation. What happened and who do you think is to blame?" she continued.

"I don't know." Anara replied. "She is. This wouldn't have happened on the Hamilton. My crew chief wouldn't have let that happen, nor would I have missed it myself. I had my misgivings about that assignment in the first place."

"I have yet to find a crew on par with the maintenance crew on my old ship. In the two years we were flying on that ship we never had a preventable mechanical problem." The sense of pride was evident on her voice, then it switched.

"The Thunderchild's crew was not so...consistent. I made several corrections to their young technicians. If I had been more familiar with the inner workings I would have been inclined to do it myself rather than trust them. I should have."

Anara's feelings began to make sense. Her sense that Roen had undergone recent emotional trauma were confirmed. It appeared as though she had come into contact with her former head crew chief on the malinche. Having to face the issue so suddenly and soon would make things more difficult on Anara. Myralia was determined to help her find a way through these tough times. "By she are you referring to someone on the Malinche?"

She sighed. "Anara I think perhaps you may be placing expectations that are too high amongst your maintainers. Young technicians require training and supervision during their first years on assignment. They are bound to make mistakes and it is the supervisors responsibility to ensure they are guided in the right direction. I can assure you this technician probably feels a great deal of guilt. I must add stress can attribute to their performance, keeping in mind there will be times when stress in unavoidable. However we must also keep in mind mistakes can and will be made at those times as well. Do you think you're being a little hard on this young tech?"

"I hope I don't have to meet her again but I have that feeling. I do not have a thing against young who know their place, but she was only the assistant head and acted like the chief. That irritates me." She paused. "No, I don't think I was too hard. She had responsibility on that crew, and that is not to be taken lightly."

"Youngsters tend to be full of ambition. Again it is the responsibility of the leaders to ensure their focus is in the right place. I must agree with you though, we all must be held accountable for our mistakes. What measures were taken against this particular technician?." Myralia was now sure this technician was playing an active role in Anara's life.

"Are you sure you two already haven't crossed paths?" she asked.

Anara raised an eyebrow and shifted in her seat. "I was looking at the crew manifest for the shuttle department and there is a caitian who fits the description, but I am hoping it was not her. That remains to be seen. This will be a long cruise if it is her. I doubt there will ever be enough to bring closure to me for it."

Myralia sighed. "Unfortunately Anara, I do not believe your captain will accept that. You will have to find a way to find closure, perhaps you two could talk? Maybe bring your counselor as a mediator should the need arise."

Anara nodded. "I understand that, but it is a well of emotion that has been capped for a long while. I don't know how to proceed though." She shrugged. "I can't just pretend it didn't happen. I can't pretend Narlen didn't exist. I have tried that for a few years now and look at me." She shook her head, looking down into her hands as she leaned forward.

The emotions inside her were conflicted to say the least. One side was filled with anger and desire for restitution and the other was one of wanting to move on. Pride was larger than both and all came together to form a tangled mess.

"Anara denying the problem ever existed will not help you get over it. The only way to see this through is to come to terms and accept what has happened, understand that you cannot change the past and to learn and grow from the situation." Myralia could sense an overwhelming feeling of pride exuding from the Bajoran. "Would you not feel better if you helped this technician become better and to one day grow into the chief you long for once again? I think that would be quite the accomplishment in itself. Enriching another's life is one of the most selfless and most rewarding acts an individual can do."

"Perhaps." Roen responded flatly but thoughtfully. Then she responded with hand gestures and emphasis. "It's just not that easy. I don't know. It's...I can't." The pride was too hard for her to break away from. "Not yet anyway."

"All in good time. These things take time to see themselves through all anyone can ask for is your patience and understanding." she said knowing that understanding was not an easy trait to some bajorans, hopefully Anara was different.

"No guarantees." The bajoran responded as she leaned back against the back of the chair, placing her sunglasses down on her eyes. "For now, can we change the subject." She asked as she rolled onto her side facing Myralia. Deflection was one tactic she learned to use to diffuse emotional responses. "Tell me about you. You know my deep secrets and I just met you."

Myralia laughed noting Roen's willingness to change the subject. "Yes however keep in mind Anara, it is my job."

Roen uttered a nervous laugh. "I suppose it is. In one evening you have known more about me than anyone since my parents. That is...well...remarkable." She was fighting the urge to clam up self consciously as she realized that fact. The two sides were still at odds inside her even as she spoke, not realizing that it was apparent in her slowing speech and tone.

Myralia did not need any empathic abilities to know that Anara was not entirely comfortable with the way their time on the holosuite had transpired. "What is remarkable is the courage you have shown opening up to someone this way. I only hope it will help you in the future."

"One can hope." The bajoran said with an attempted smile and soft tone. There was a moment of silent contemplation as the pair looked at each other. Eventually she opened back up with a simple, "What level communication will you have access to on your ship? Even if we cannot be counselor-patient, I still would like to keep in touch." That statement made her look down into her drink and swirl it around in a small circular motion.

Myralia smiled filled with happiness that Anara had warmed up to her. She too wished to keep in contact no matter the circumstances. "I would hope at least subspace. I too wish to stay in touch even if it is a message here and there."

"Thank you, Myra" Roen said softly as she stood up, straightening her coverup shirt. "I think we should be going." She helped her friend up and the pair walked away from their tropical oasis back to the cold reality of the station.


A Jp by:

Warrant 2nd Class Roen Anara (PNPC)
Shuttle Bay Manager
USS Malinche
Played by: Ensign L'Randil N'rass


Lt(JG). Myralia Constantine
Chief Counselor
USS Orlando
"Sometimes the shortest route is not always the wisest decision."

Commander Alexandra Vance
Executive Officer
USS Niagara NCC-80485
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Re: Once Upon A Simm

Postby RayneTiger » Tue Mar 29, 2011 9:34 am

This was done when Rayne was the Ensign Morale Officer on the USS Beowulf. Hands down one of the best posts I feel I've ever done, a large part due to my writing partner. I learned as much about Rayne as I did about Vasily in this post. He was the Master-at-Arms.

Vasily paced the observation deck a little nervously, his mind thinking of the songs he was going to play. Stopping himself he tugged lightly at his shirt sleeves then ran a hand along the buttons on the front. Calmly he looked over everything from the food to the wine to the water and finally to the violin. Lifting it gingerly he began to play a few practice notes.

Rayne stood in front of the mirror, fidgeting with her hair. Finally she just gave up and let it fall down her back. It’s not like this was a formal occasion. She glanced down at her sapphire blue dress. She’d never cared for it much, the angle cut of the neckline seemed strange to her, the spaghetti straps crisscrossed her back and made her very aware of the fact that fabric was absent, and the flared calf length skirt wasn’t as roomy as she’d like. Oh well, it was the only dress she currently owned. Before she arrived at the observation deck she stopped by the lounge. She tried very hard to ignore the waves of emotion she was getting from the people occupying the bar, usually she wasn’t this attuned to other people, but she’d noticed whenever she was upset or nervous, it seemed easier to read others. She waited patiently while the bartender got the wine she’d asked for, refusing to search the crowd for the eyes she could feel on her back. She nearly grabbed the bottle right out of the server’s hands, and spun towards the door. Once she reached the hallway she took a breath. That was one of the strangest sensations she’d ever had, and she didn’t care to explore it. She began making her way toward the deck.

As confident as he could feel, he set the violin down and looked himself over again. It was the only semi-formal attire he owned, A white orchestra shirt and black slacks. This was one of the few times he wished he had a better selection of civilian clothes. He sighed, "It could have been worse, I could have been in uniform," he admitted. The deck had a single long table in the center of it surrounded by chairs and along one wall was a continuous window looking out into the vastness of space. He had set her place in the center of the table facing the window. An empty wine glass and fresh bread sat in front of the chair. In the center of the table was a single white rose sitting between two long candles.

She steadied her mind in the split second it took for the doors to swoosh open, allowing her entrance. Her breath caught in her throat as she surveyed the deck and her eyes settled on him. "This is amazing." She smiled. Then she noticed the wine on the table. "Oh...” she stammered.”I brought... I didn't..." She finally just handed him the bottle. "It's rude to show up empty handed." She smiled in apology.

He bowed, "Not a problem," Taking it, he set it next to the other bottle. He pulled out her chair, "Madame," He put on a smile, covering the nervousness he felt. He hadn't played for anybody but his mother and tone deaf father; he only hoped that he didn't trip up.

She smiled up at him and thanked him quietly as he pushed the chair in for her. The smell of the bread was making her stomach rumble. She took in the room; this must have taken him a decent amount of time to put together. She was touched. She could feel her nerves start to fire; everything looked so beautiful she was afraid to touch it. Please, she thought silently, let me make it through this night without spilling anything on myself. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for his lead.

He picked up a bottle of wine and popped the cork out. Slowly he poured the contents into the glass, his hand gripping the bottle tight to cover his shaking. He put the bottle aside, "Enjoy," He placed a bowl of rassolnyk soup in front of her, "And now," he walked to the other side, "Tonight's entertainment," He lifted the violin.

Rayne tilted her head up and caught his gaze. "You aren't joining me?" She was horrified at the thought of having to eat alone. "You went to all this trouble, you should enjoy it too." Her eyes pleaded with him.

For a moment he hesitated. Setting the violin down he grabbed his own bowl, "I concede your point Snegurochka," He sat down across from her,

"Thank you." She eyed his attire. It reminded her of a character in novel she'd read, but she couldn't place which one exactly. The candle light upon his skin cast a porcelain sheen, and it struck her like a lightning bolt. He resembled a character out of a vampire novel she'd read in her youth. Abruptly realizing she was staring, she cast her eyes downward and took a bite of the soup. "Very good," she smiled shyly at him. Remembering she had a question, she looked up and asked him, "What does Snegurochka mean, exactly?"

With a smile he took a bit of the soup into his mouth. Swallowing it, he replied, "Snow Maiden. Back in Russia there is a folk tale about her. You probably do not wish to hear it."

She stared at him. "You call me by a name that has a story attached it that you think I wouldn't want to hear?" She shook her head. "I'm pretty sure I have to hear it now." She continued to eat while she waited for him to tell her the story.

He placed the spoon down, "The tale starts with an old couple. They want a beautiful daughter to raise and care for. One night a snow storm blew in and the beautiful Snegurochka walked to the door and said, 'I am Snegurochka and have come to live with you as your daughter.' The couple was overjoyed and raised Snegurochka as her own. Unfortunately she could not go out into the sun for she would melt. He only friend was a boy named Vladimir who would come to her window everyday to talk to her and play his flute."

He poured wine into his glass and drank a little of it, "One winter night the old couple died. Snegurochka, who had loved the couple very much, ran away into the woods to await spring so she would melt and end her grief. Vladimir, who had heard about what happened, ran to the cabin to find her gone. He trudged through the snow storm to find her, risking everything. When he did find her she asked why he did all of that for her and he answered, 'I could not bear for you to be alone."

"He asked her to stay with him, and she agreed knowing while he would grow old and die she would stay perpetually young. One cold evening many winters later Vladimir fell ill and died and Snegurochka ran into the forest, waiting for spring," He took another sip of soup, "I call you Snegurochka because you like her you showed up through my coldness and," he tinged a little red, "You do look strikingly beautiful. The rest of the story does not apply to you, it applies to me."

She had no idea what to say. The tone of the story hung over them as she struggled for words. "Well, thank you for the compliment, and the story. It's beautiful and tragic." She giggled a little and felt the tension edge away. "You know, you have a very mesmerizing voice when you care to exercise it." She finished her soup and sipped her wine.

He finished the soup, "I've never had to. Usually it's a 'Yes ma'am' or 'No sir'," He chuckled slightly, "Actually, it is quite...liberating to use my voice like that. Thank you," Standing up, he grabbed his violin, "Now how about a song before the main course?"

She leaned back against the chair and looked into his eyes. "Give me a moment. Since I've gotten here, you've smiled, you've laughed, AND you've said more than three word sentences. I'm almost wondering if I came to the right place..." She favored him with her ear to ear grin. "Not that I'm complaining. I'd love to hear you play."

"Only for you," He made a low bow, "And now, Tchaikovsky's Manfred Symphony," the violin bow slowly drew across the strings, "Lento lugubre," he began to play with passionate attention to the music, allowing his emotions to flow into the strings.

All the humor left her face. No one could find anything humorous in the choice of music or his playing. It reminded her of a haunting lullaby, sweet and sad and every chord he touched showed in his face. She couldn't decide if it was more breathtaking to hear him play, or to see him play. She listened intently, the story that the song conveyed flashed through her imagination, and she was swept away. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to feel the music, and to feel him as he played it.

With a last, flourished movement he ended the movement. He removed the violin from his shoulder, "What do you think?"

She opened her eyes. "I think that was one of the most amazing things I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing." She also thought that it was amazing how all it took was one simple instrument to chisel away all of the stone he kept himself inside, but she would never tell him that. "You play very well, though I'm sure I don't need to tell you that. I felt like I was back in a theater. Thank you so much!"

Pleased that he hadn't screwed it up he took a short bow, "You are very welcome. Now then, how would feel about having our main course?"

She grinned at him again and winked. "Well, we've come this far, why not?"

Setting the violin aside he placed a dish in front of her and lifted the silver lid, "Chicken Gorky and potatoes. Funny name, but delicious," at least I hope so, he didn't add. Taking his own plate he sat down.

It smelled wonderful. For a minute Rayne felt a little faint, as though this couldn't possibly be real. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined that this would come to pass when she'd applied for her position. She wondered briefly if he'd ever consider playing for the crew, and dismissed it just as quickly. She was certain that she was lucky enough to be part of this, she had no intention of pushing her luck. She took a bite and nodded her approval.

He replied with a smile, "My father taught me that recipe," he took a bite, "He may have been tone deaf, but a poor cook he was not."

She hesitated. She didn't want to ruin the evening, but her curiosity got the best of her, as usual. "Did you get along well with your parents?" His tone when he spoke of them had always been neutral, and it was impossible to tell anything when he played Vasily the statue.

With a slight sigh he shrugged, "We were a family. We did not hate each other, but I was raised by my grandfather for the most part. My only real relationship with my mother was the violin and with my father it was the kitchen. Everything else I owe to Papa."

"It sounds like you love him very much." She stopped. Sometimes, it was really hard to separate herself from her job. She sat down her fork. "That was wonderful." This time, she'd let him talk. Being quiet wouldn't kill her. Probably.

"I was his favorite grandchild and he taught me all he knew. That also included emotional shield," a bit of potato found its way into his mouth, "As he put a good sniper needs to be emotionally blank, otherwise one could not do the tasks assigned to them. I learned to not cry when I was hurt, to limit my emotions. He taught me endurance, he also taught me what it was to be a man...although I did pay attention to my father when it came to women. I would not take advice from an old marine about that," He chuckled again.

Rayne allowed the pleased feeling she had to radiate from her body. "Well, even though I don't know how it would have turned out otherwise, I must say, I am certainly impressed." She sighed contentedly.

Lifting his glass his smile grew, "Thank you kindly," He sipped at the wine, thinking of safe questions to ask, "Do you have any talents you hide from the world?"

She smiled softly. "Not on purpose. I've been told I'm a fairly open book. I don't know how true that is, but that's what I hear anyway." She considered his question for a moment. Finally she shrugged.

"What sparked your interest in psychology?" His voice was kind. He was surprising himself with the amount of emotion she was able to bring out of him.

She kept herself from flinching at his question but barely. This was not her favorite subject. She thought for a moment about how to answer his question without seeming cold yet without delving too deeply into it. He had his darkness, and so did she. She cleared her throat and spoke slowly. "When I was young, my mother and I lived with my uncle and aunt and their two children. My mother was... ill a lot and so she couldn't care for me properly. My cousins and I never really got along and my aunt and uncle both had their own lives to attend to. I was alone often. I chose a different life than the one they had planned for me, ended up in Star Fleet, and was drawn to the psychology aspect. People fascinate me, what they can go through and survive. How they cope with different issues. How they can relearn to be whole." She shrugged. "Nothing miraculous." She giggled softly.

"Hmmm...so in a sense you were relearning to be whole yourself," He observed, "I do have to say that is something impressive," He smiled warmly.

She looked at him. "Open book I must be." She wouldn't have attributed it to learning to be whole. She preferred to think of it as a means of survival. That didn't mean he was wrong though. Yet another dark dank road to discover, she thought. She forced herself to return the warm smile.

The smile softened, detecting the force she put into her smile, "Is there anything else Snegurochka?" He asked softly.

She blinked back the moisture that was slowly creeping toward the corners of her eyes. What was the phrase he had used earlier? Ah yes... "You probably do not wish to hear it."

Unconsciously his hand moved to her eyes, brushing away the forming tears, "I wish to hear it."

She sat perfectly still. Fight or flight was always her natural reaction to fear, and she was more terrified of him now than he'd tried to make her earlier that day. What it really came down to, she decided, was if she trusted this man who had such a still, ungaugable surface with her half healed wounds. Amazingly, the choice came much easier than she'd thought it would, and he had himself to thank for it. "For many years," she began, "I assumed that it was something in me, something I had done that had made my mother act the way she did towards me. It was as though she had two people inside of her. She wasn't always that way, you have to understand that," Rayne smiled sadly; "I can remember days that she would laugh, and play with me. But there were not many, and they had long since fallen to the side by the time I got to the Academy. It was upon my arrival there that I learned how sick she really was. They called it manic depression?" She had no idea if he would understand what she was talking about, but he'd asked, so she kept going. "I've always been able to ... sense things about people. Not constantly, you understand, but powerful emotions seemed to assault me. I could always feel her sadness. Maybe I am just as much to blame as my aunt and uncle and cousins for not encouraging a bond to form. I suppose I'll never know." She laughed then. "Or if I do, I'll probably never admit it to myself. Maybe that's the underlying reason I chose to explore this career, to understand her sadness. Or mine. Or, just maybe, it's to be reassured that there are others in this universe with just as much baggage to carry, if not more." She didn't add her last thought. One wounded soul searching for another to make her complete.

Wow, he thought. Briefly he looked away then brought his gaze back to her, "I'm sorry. I had no idea how deep your wounds ran."

That instant that he broke her gaze brought worry flying up from her core. She felt like she'd said too much. Wounded was not an image she wanted to portray, especially not tonight, and not to him. She was not going to ruin this, if she hadn't already. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... it's not your problem.. it's... I'm sorry." She searched his eyes. She'd thought she could see herself in them before, but if that was true then, it was no longer. She sat silent.

Internally he felt relief she did not storm off, outwardly he showed concern for her, "A soft hare lost deep in the Siberian Tundra longing to escape," he said in a low whisper, barely loud enough for her to hear, "Maybe that is me."

"A soft.. what?" She had no idea what he was talking about. The look on his face, and yes, there was a look, made her sure he was somewhere else. She put a hand on his arm.

Looking at her, he made a slight grin, "A friend of mine. He said I was one of two things, the Upir or a soft hare lost in the frozen tundra of Russia. I'm beginning to think I may be the latter," He chuckled slightly, "That may be the reason I didn't turn you away today."

She shook her head. The image of him as a rabbit, it was just too much. She started to giggle and quickly it turned to laughter. After a few moments she managed to compose herself. The statue had returned and she instantly felt regret. "I'm so sorry Vasily," she said hurriedly. "I'm not laughing at you. I swear. I just.. well, try to picture yourself as a rabbit." She waited, hoping he could see where she'd find that amusing. If not, this evening would be solidly in the 'bust' file.

He stared back long and hard, then scrunched up his nose like a rabbit, "Does this help your visualization any?" A smile spread across his face.

She smiled genuinely. "You are a very surprising man, Vasily Zaytzev." She reached across the table and touched his cheek. "Thank you, I really needed to laugh."

When her hand reached him he was a little shocked, but it passed surprising quickly, "You are welcome Snegurochka. I couldn't bear to see you upset," his smile warmed a bit more.

She felt a little... something. It wasn't exactly discomfort, his skin was amazingly soft and she admitted to herself that she liked the way it felt. She was torn yet again between two extremes, to leave it or remove it, but in the end she dropped her hand anyway. "Is this the night you had planned?" She asked him, a playful smile on her face.

"Not at all," His eyes twinkled with amusement, "But I'm getting used to the unplanned going better than the planned," her touch seemed to unlock something in him, maybe it was a beacon of light directing the hare to freedom

"Well, that's cryptic." And true, she thought. "So if this wasn't the plan, what was?"

Another sip of wine, "Dinner and a show." he set the glass down, "I didn't expect the riveting conversation, or that I would be sharing my feelings so freely."

She got up from her chair and walked to the window. "Do you know what I miss the most about Earth, Vasily?" She leaned against the window, not turning around.

He hesitated before standing up, but he did follow her. Keeping a respectable distance he watched her, "What would that be Rayne?"

She smiled when he said her name. It sounded exotic when it rolled off of his tongue. She turned, caught his gaze and held it. "Looking up at the stars on a clear cloudless night. Trying to spot the constellations. Feeling like the heavens were just waiting with all of my dreams wrapped up in them. Did you ever imagine that the stars could hold everything you've been looking for?"

Memories of childhood came into his head. The crisp and clear air of the Russian forests allow an uncluttered view of the heavens, "Sometimes I did," He moved next to her and lightly placed a hand on her arm, "On the nights I was alone I'd stare into the night sky, knowing that opportunity lay among them."

She purposely avoided looking at him now. "And now that you're among them? Do you still feel that way?"

"Yes," came his response, the single word holding a great weight.

She turned. "I do too. I think, in many ways, they will have superseded my expectations." She cleared her throat. "Vasily, you are aware that some of the crew has been recruited for a mission that takes them off the ship, aren't you?" She couldn't imagine that he wouldn't, his own superior had already left. Although, what Ayita had given as her reason for departure was anyone's guess.

He grinned slightly, "Don't worry Rayne, I will protect you."

She turned sharply and glared at him. What gave him the audacity to think she'd need protection! She'd made it to this point alive and well, hadn't she? Well before he came along she was... she stopped. What DID he mean? "I don't suppose you'd like to clarify that statement, would you?"

"I have been assigned to team two and according to the roster," his grin grew slightly, "So have you."

Well well, he wasn't kidding when he told her he did his homework. She turned her smile inward. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Protect her indeed. "Well, then I'm sure I'll sleep much better tonight knowing that my life is in such capable hands." On impulse, she stretched up and kissed his cheek briefly. "Thank you for the dinner, and for playing for me. I had a wonderful time. I should be going though, it's getting late and we should both get the rest." She smiled at him. Asking if she'd see him again suddenly became a moot question. She enjoyed the look on his face more than she thought she would. She turned and began to walk toward the doors.

His smile grew and on an impulse he asked, "Would you like me to walk you back to your quarters?" He immediately gave himself an internal slap, knowing she probably would say no. He prepared to apologize for the abrupt statement.

She happened to be next to the spot where the rose was on the table when his voice stopped her. She picked it up as she turned to him, twirling it absently in her fingers. "Thank you for your offer, but I'm sure I'm quite safe between here and there, wouldn't you agree? Or do you know something I don't?" She winked at him and continued out the doors without waiting for his answer.

He chuckled lightly, "Dobroi nochi Snegurochka..."


posted by Ensign Rayne Tiger & Petty Officer 1st Class Vasily Zaytzev
"The truth is rarely pure, and never simple."

Lt. Rayne Tiger
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USS Tigris

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USS Pandora
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Re: Once Upon A Simm

Postby CaptWulf » Tue Mar 29, 2011 8:43 pm

On: USS Beowulf in orbit of Marram IX

Captain Newkirk came up to the bridge when he heard the ship had received the signal from the landing team. A security team and medical team were dispatched to speed the uploading process along.

"Klingon ships inbound," Dunsel reported from the sensors. "Two cruisers, ETA five minutes with five more ships three minutes behind."

Newkirk hit the intercom button, "Let's hurry up people. I don't think the Klingons are here to throw us a going away party."

He closed the channel. "When the landing team is aboard use the pressor beam to give us some distance from the transport. I want it destroyed with phasers."

The captain fought the impulse to get up from his chair and look at the weapons station. Finally the green light was given that the transport had been emptied. "Red alert, fire at the transport at 1000 meters," Newkirk breathed again. "I want warp held until the first ships drop out of warp. Set course for Baker's Dozen, warp factor three."

One thousand meters was cutting it pretty close. The helmsman and navigator both looked at each other with puzzled faces, probably wondering how they could get away at that speed. "I said warp three. Confirm!" the captain said sternly.

"Confirmed," came the twin echoes.

"Prepare two photon torpedoes," Newkirk ordered. "Arm with proximity fuses."

"Proximity fuses," the helmsman confirmed. "Transport is destroyed, sir."

Newkirk cheated and looked at the helmsman's display. Seven Klingon ships were bearing down on them. He watched the main screen. If their weapons officer were really good they might get off some shots after they dropped out of warp. Newkirk felt pretty confident that wouldn't happen. The bigger risk was that they would catch up to the Beowulf before it met the second wave.

"Two D7 K'tinga Class Cruisers dropping out of warp," the helmsman reported.

"Go," the captain said. They were away, the cruisers left behind. They would need a few seconds to turn around and go back to warp. There were five other ships bearing on their position. Newkirk snuck a look at the display to see the ships behind them.

"Let's see what their learning curve is," Captain Newkirk stated. "Target the two vessels closest to our direct route. When they detonate accelerate to warp 9."

Ships were trying to flank them. So far they were holding fire. Koloth had trained them well. They would not waste shots.

"Entering maximum range," the helmsman reported.

"Fire," Newkirk said calmly. He watched the twin orbe racing towards their targets. They didn't need to hit, their only task was to blind. As they detonated the captain ordered maximum warp.

The Klingons tried to fire on them, but trying to hit a target that had accelerated from 27c to 729c was nearly impossible. Maybe Hikaru Sulu could do it.

The Beowulf was still being chased by seven Klingon ships. If they kept this speed the Klingons would not catch them. The problem was they could not keep up this speed. Newkirk hit the intercom button again, "Engineering put the coals on the fire. We need to keep this speed up."

"Sir, we are being hailed by the Klingons," Dunsel said.

"Onscreen," the captain responded.

A dapper Klingon with a Van Dyke style beard appeared on the screen. Those who underestimated his cunning ended up dead. "Admiral Koloth, what can I do for ya?" Newkirk asked with a wide grin on his face.

"Captain Newkirk, if I had known it was you then I would have avoided the wild goose chase. I know you would have stuck around," Koloth said with his own slick grin. "Give up this charade. You can't possibly get away. Your engines will give out and we'll have you."

"I think I'll trust Federation engineering over Klingon engineering," Newkirk retorted.

"My engineers know they will be killed if they fail me," Koloth said grimly.

"My engineers know everyone we all will be killed if they fail," Newkirk said. "Or do you mean to throw us in boxes like you did those poor bastards on Marram IX."

"I promise your brave crew a quick death if you put up an honorable defense," Koloth promised with his right hand raised.

Newkirk's face had lost any mirth. "I tell you what, if it comes down to that I promise that I will take out your ship first. I may have a destroyer against your cruiser, but we both know I can back it up. Newkirk out."

Koloth blanched as the signal was cut.

off: tbc
Captain James Stuart Newkirk
USS Beowulf, Commanding

Ensign Bok
USS Pandora, Chief Engineer

Lt. JG Caleb Noventum
USS Orlando, Chief Intelligence Officer

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USS Alamo, XO

Lt. Commander Max McGillicuddy
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Re: Once Upon A Simm

Postby CaptWulf » Tue Mar 29, 2011 8:51 pm

...and the continuation

On: USS Beowulf

The Wulf continued to cruise ahead of the Klingons. He wondered if Koloth would give in and call for help to cut him off. The ship was nearing the independent Lendis Wavamm system. If the Klingons had called for reinforcements, they would be coming now. Lendissians did not possess warp drive at this point, but they held a potent military. They were also marginally aligned to the Romulans. If the Beowulf went into this system the Klingons would let them go most likely, but they would still be prisoners. That would take quite a while to sort out between the interests involved. It was also possible they could be tracked from a nearby Klingon defense outpost that could send ships out on their own authority. Most of the Klingon held worlds the Beowulf was passing did not have a defense force. Verianne was a desert world that had been rumored for future plans to have a training base. Eternity was named for a doomed missionary colony that died out there. Bandage contained hospital facilities. Mrang has a ban on industries which could negatively impact the planets thriving fruit harvest thus could not sustain a base. Veneradt was a frozen world the Klingons have used to train marines on but has little in the way of starship assets.

"Sir, picking up several ships ahead," Dunsel reported from the sensors.

"Don't keep it a secret mister," the captain responded. "Who is it?"

"They're our sir!" he said as he straightened up. He was smiling ear to ear. "Two Durrett Class Cruisers and three scouts."

"Open a channel to them," Newkirk said.

A redheaded female captain was straightening her uniform as she appeared onscreen. "Somebody call for an escort?" she said.

"I didn't think you were ever going to get here Jo," Newkirk remarked.

"It took some doing to get out of Ballard's Mint without the Klingons taking notice," she remarked. "Don't let it be said that Captain Josephine Baines has ever let you down."

That remark brought Newkirk's famous grin out. "Make some room and we'll wiggle in amongst you. Mr. Dunsel get Koloth online."

"Channel open sir," Dunsel reported.

The smiling face of Captain Baines was replaced by the near manic visage of Adm. Koloth. "My dear Koloth. I'm sure you realize that the force before you is no match for yours, but its one thing to destroy a single starship. Its quite another to destroy six Federation ships without backlash," Captain Newkirk said.

"Our empire would sweep aside your pitiful forces in the Triangle," Koloth said with bravado.

"I have my doubts about that. Your museum relics might run roughshod for awhile. Tell you what though," the captain said as he walked closer to the screen. "My offer still stands. If you want to take us on I assure you I will take your ship out first."

Koloth blanched. He sat down in his chair and put on a congenial aire, "In the interests of galactic harmony we shall forget this incident ever happened." Some of his crew looked ready to mutiny. "Turn around the chase is over," he said as he banged on his chair.

"That's mighty nice of you, Koloth," Newkirk pointed out. "I won't tell anyone that you've become quite the peacemaker." He cut the channel before Koloth changed his mind.
Captain James Stuart Newkirk
USS Beowulf, Commanding

Ensign Bok
USS Pandora, Chief Engineer

Lt. JG Caleb Noventum
USS Orlando, Chief Intelligence Officer

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USS Alamo, XO

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Re: Once Upon A Simm

Postby Lavelle » Mon Apr 11, 2011 11:15 am

OOC - This is the infamous 'Reymlindor incident', after which Leigh was removed from her first command. Credit also goes to my crew at the time for their contributions to this:


Leigh opened her eyes and looked around. She was still on the bridge of the Shanghai. That was a good sign, it meant that she wasn't dead, unless her maker had a particularly twisted sense of humour. Thankfully the rest of the bridge crew wasn’t dead as the other officers slowly came around and returned to their posts from where the collision had flung them.

"Damage report." Leigh groggily called.

Layton finished pulling himself up onto the bridge's engineering console. It was flashing sporadically, but had somehow managed to stay operational. "We've got a few hull breaches, but they're minor. Emergency force fields are up and have the situation contained. Our warp circuits have been overloaded, and the drive isn't functional." The engineer manipulated his console. "Oh geeze. The tractor beam, phasers, transporters, and communications array are all off-line. Most other systems are semi-stable." Layton stood and headed for the turbolift. "For obvious reasons, if anyone needs me I'll be in engineering."

"And the anomaly?"

“Highly unstable. The gravitational waves are amplifying. It looks like it’s pulling itself closed.” Hoving looked back at his sensors. Instinctively, he leveled the ship from a wild spin and accelerated the Akira class vessel hard putting as much distance as he could between the anomaly and the ship. Then he looked at the sensors again. “Oh, Christ!”

“What? Tactical report!” barked the captain. All at once the view screen changed direction. In the distance, the Argellian cruise liner could be seen. It had a good lead on the Shanghai, but now it was drifting and listing out of control.

The TAC-7 Battlefield Unit Management System spouted the score card. “Target One. Argelian Cruise Liner Reymlindor is damaged. Engines off line. Structural integrity is failing. Target Two. Ambassador class Brelim will intercept in thirty seconds. Target Three. Excelsior class Tecumseh will intercept in fifty seconds. Target Four. Intrepid class Zealous will intercept in one minute plus ten seconds. Target Five. Heavy warp shuttle is holding position.”

By training and or nature, the Federation vessels that had gathered to reinforce the rescue effort of the Shanghai saw the cruise liner in distress, so they closed the distance to assist. Despite their best intentions, none of them knew of the danger that waited in the slowly rupturing ship.

Leigh felt the eyes of the entire bridge upon her. She wasn't telepathic, but she knew that each of them were silently asking her the same question, 'what do we do Captain?'. This is what it meant to be in the centre chair. One had to answer that question and make the tough decisions. Their options were few and far between and time was ticking. In 30 seconds the Brelim would start beaming off infected passengers. 50 and 70 seconds later and the Tecumseh and Zealous would be doing the same. The parasite could take anything from a matter of seconds or minutes to start affecting a person.

With communications down, by the time the Shanghai could contact any of the Starships or replicate enough of the paralytic to treat all of their crews, the infection could have turned into an epidemic. It would have been one too big for the Shanghai to handle alone, and in the condition she was in the Shanghai wouldn't be able to put up any kind of fight against three infected starships. Then, with the Shanghai and her crew out of the way, there'd be nothing to stop the infection spreading throughout the Federation and the rest of the Alpha Quadrant. Leigh bit her lip and closed her eyes, hardly able to believe she was even contemplating the order she was about to give.

"Ensign Rivers, are torpedoes still operational?"

"Aye Ma'am" Rivers replied quizzically, not sure at first of the relevance of the question.

Leigh took a deep breath. "Lock onto the Argellian liner and fire a spread of Quantum torpedoes."

"Ma'am?!" Rivers spluttered in disbelief.

"We are less than 20 seconds away from an epidemic that could threaten the entire quadrant Ensign!" Leigh snapped. "I have no time to debate this with you. Now fire those damned torpedoes or step away and I'll do it myself!"

Rivers' past life as a Marine meant that he understood better than most the sanctity of the chain of command and he didn't need to be told twice. "Aye Ma'am" he nodded, as his marine training kicked in and a cold steely detachment descended over him. "Torpedoes away."

At that moment all eyes on the bridge turned to the viewscreen, mouths wide open as a spread of torpedoes spurted forth from the Shanghai. All eyes except Leigh's, her eyelids closed, a tear rolling down her cheek.


“Are you getting this? Good. 3…2…1… This is Federation News Net reporter John Franklin reporting from the Talamar system, where are following up on the events of the missing Ambassador cruiser, the USS Leander. Here at Talamar, a third StarFleet vessels has just arrived in system. The small task group, we have just learned, is under the command of the Tellarite Captain Tchargan of the Intrepid class, USS Zealous. Supplementing his task group are the vessels Tecumseh of the Excelsior class as well as the Brelim another Ambassador class cruiser.”

“These vessels have been ordered here to investigate, not only the disappearance of the USS Leander which went missing a little over seventy two hours ago. During search and rescue operations, the Akira class USS Shanghai also vanished without a trace just over thirty six hours after the Leander. All attempts to request interviews with the task group have been rejected at this point.”

“The Leander’s original mission was to investigate the sudden appearance of a subspace anomaly here in the Talamar system when it disappeared. StarFleet Operation marshaled these new arrivals to assess the situation. As you can clearly see, the task group is holding position a fair distance from the anomaly. Again, they have currently denied our requests for interview… wait! Something is happening with the anomaly! The space is starting to glow! It is now turning a light gray. Something… something very large is coming out of the anomaly… it’s a vessel. I’ve seen… it’s an Argellian cruise liner, ladies, gentlemen, and beings of the Federation!”

“This vessel is clearly in distress. The crystalline composite alloy that compromises the hull of this massive vessel has shattered and decompressed in some areas, and appears to be venting in two other areas. We can only sit here and hope that no one was in those sections of the ship. The liner’s power on the vessel seems to be fluctuating as they are losing power to their engines. Hold on… there is com traffic. It appears that the three Starfleet vessels are closing with the liner in order to render aid.”

“My engineer and pilot has just informed me that this massive vessel has been identified as the Reymlindor. This vessel has been reported missing for six months! What an incredible turn of events, ladies, gentlemen and beings, as part of this tragedy has turned into somewhat of a happy ending. Unbelievable!”

“The StarFleet vessels are almost to her now in order to render aid and assistance… WAIT! There is something happening again with the anomaly! It looks like another ship is coming through… The anomaly has changed color! It’s red this time. Oh my! The Shanghai has returned from the abyss and it is spiraling out of control! This is amazing!”

“Whoa! We are experiencing gravitational turbulence from the anomaly! We are attempting to back away… The anomaly is… collapsing before our very eyes! This is truly spectacular!”

“The Shanghai has recovered attitude control! It is damaged but it is heading to regroup with the fleet. I can hear Captain Tchargan of the Zealous hailing the Shanghai. The Shanghai is… not responding. WHAT THE…”

“OH MY GOD! The Shanghai has just unleashed a volley of eight QUANTUM torpedoes! They are… travelling at great speed… OH NO! Oh the TRAGEDY! The horrors… Ladies, gentlemen and beings of the Federation, the USS Shanghai has just destroyed the luxury liner, Reymlindor. They have fired on and killed in cold blood the surviving passengers and crew of the… What do you mean the signals being jammed!?”



Seconds after the Reymlindor exploded in a burst of Quantum energy, a Starfleet security team beamed onto the Bridge of the Shanghai, phasers drawn at the ready. Dirk instinctively reached for his phaser but Leigh beckoned for him to stand down. One of the team, a red-collared male Commander, stepped forward, his eyes staring directly at Leigh.

"Commander Leigh Lavelle, I Commander Gregory Delaney first officer of the USS Zealous hereby relieve you of command of the USS Shanghai NCC-63384. You will be placed under arrest and restricted to quarters for the duration of our journey to Starbase 39, where you will face a JAG hearing and possible court-martial for firing upon and destroying a civilian vessel. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."

Leigh knew it was pointless arguing, it would only look worse at her hearing. She would have her chance to tell her side of the story then. Nodding solemnly Leigh stood up from the Captain's chair, wondering if she would ever sit in it again.

"I stand relieved Commander" Leigh said sombrely, no hint of malice or bitterness in her voice.

"Take her away" Commander Delaney said disparagingly, wasting little time in taking over in her chair.

As Leigh was marched over to the turbolift, she turned around momentarily to address the Bridge. "I want you all to give Commander Delaney your full co-operation" she said before stepping in to lift, the doors closing behind her, as she descended into purgatory.

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Re: Once Upon A Simm

Postby Mia » Sat Apr 16, 2011 11:08 pm

This is a post I wrote for the USS Pendragon, formerly of Obsidian Fleet, and it was one of the first simming posts I ever wrote. It's called, 'Doom Duty'

[USS Pendragon, Deck 13 Hull Breach, Jefferies Tube hatch J13, 1546 hours]


The Jefferies tube opened into hell.

The corridor was a mess of debris, with small fires and scorch marks marking the once pristine walls. Along the left bulkhead, a huge hole lay open to the inky blackness of space, an emergency forcefield the only thing keeping the atmosphere from leeching away. As soon as Bish and his team were in the hallway, he turned to his Bolian companion and nodded once.

Brex nodded and manually worked a lever that resealed the Jefferies tube hatch for this section. The four engineers exchanged silent looks with one another. Until the work was done, they were effectively cut off from the rest of the ship. They called it 'Doom Duty.' It was by far the most dangerous job in Engineering, involving the shutting off or re-routing of EPS conduits, plasma manifolds, or any other system that could not be dealt with remotely. Each had lost at least one friend to Doom Duty, and in some cases, several.

No words were spoken between the officers as they worked, as if speaking aloud would break their concentration. Brex began rerouting the EPS feeds around the affected area. Murphy tackled the plasma flow-throughs for this deck. Kora concentrated on putting out the small fires now that the fire suppression system was off line. Bish kept a tricorder trained on the forcefield, watching for tell-tale signs of power loss. Though a normal part of Doom Duty, all who performed it knew that it was in reality a moot point. If the forcefield dropped, there would be no time for any of them.

A sharp jolt sent them all stumbling as the conduit Brex was working on ruptured, sending the Bolian on a trajectory that impacted with Crewman Murphy. In seconds Bish and Kora were Untangling the two, and the stench of burned flesh told the Assistant Chief all he needed to know. Murphy looked horrified, but only for a moment. Immediately the crewman extricated himself from beneath the Bolian, and gently lowered Brex to the deck. Bish nodded to Kora who moved to the burned out conduit to ensure that it was offline. In the meantime, Bishop waited for the news he knew was coming. Murphy checked for the Bolian's pulse, shook his head once, and quickly returned to his work.

As Murphy finished his work, the Bajoran aided Bish in the folding stretcher they had brought with them. It had two strips that ran it's length, and were designed to fit into twin 'tracks' in the Jefferies tubes. Thus the injured, or even the dead, could be moved out of an area through the tubes when transporters were either offline, or inaccessible. By the time they had finished with the stretcher, Murphy had completed his work and was helping Kora lift the Bolian into place, so that Bish could strap him in securely. His injured arm was improving, and the pain from the burns and the multiple bruises and cuts only pushed him harder, and helped him focus.

With Brex secured, Murphy grabbed one end of the stretcher, Kora the other, and Bish worked the control that would manually cycle the tube hatch open. Bringing Brex through first, Bish made one last look around before climbing into the hatch himself, and cycling it closed.

Making their way through the tube system, the team exited onto Deck 12, and passing members of the crew stopped in silent acknowledgement as the team carefully lowered Brex out of the tube hatch. No one spoke, but some met the team member's eyes and nodded solemnly. Others closed their eyes or lowered their heads. All knew what had happened. Words were not necessary. Doom Duty had claimed another victim.


Chief Warrant Officer 3rd Class Samuel J. Bishop
Assistant Chief Engineer
USS Pendragon NCC-21836
Formerly of Obsidian Fleet
Commodore Mia Drake, Ph.D
Task Force Commanding Officer
Horizon Fleet Task Force 42
USS Kepler NCC-83964
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Re: Once Upon A Simm

Postby Amarith t'Jones » Thu Sep 20, 2012 10:02 pm


<MD3, Gym Area, ,0600 hrs>

"Making a New Friend"

Greg arrived slightly earlier then usual to the main gym, having agreed to meet
Amarith for their first sparing match. Wearing a comfortable pair of sweat pants
and tee-shirt in standard Marine green he walked over to the heavy bag hanging
in the corner of the gym and started to loosen up before the match.
Amarith showed up looking she just walked off a video game called Tomb Raider.
She was wearing Australia hiking shoes, khaki shorts and a halter top. Limbering
up, she was waiting for her spar with Greg. She knew she had picked the right
person to go toe to toe with. He was all brass, well polished and he would not
treat her like some flyweight. Limbering up a bit as she saw Greg loosing up as
well. Cocking her neck a bit, she walked over to the mat that was in the center
of the gym. "Thanks for wanting to spar with me," she said to him as she became
in the distance so he can hear him. "I will be here when you are ready." Amarith
was doing some her Kata which was a kickbox warmup for Greg.
(OOC:http://www.amam-magazine.com/katadanceofdeath.html )

Greg delivered a punishing one-two combo on the heavy bag before turning around.
He smiled over at Amarith, his eyebrow raising slightly at her choice of attire.
He watched her warm-up briefly trying to place any advantage's he had, and came
up with two his size and weight. Stepping onto the mat he bowed slightly to her,
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," he said dropping into a ready stance right hand
leading with his left trailing.

Seeing his technique Amarith said showing him respect as he has demonstrated he
was well verse in several forms of kickboxing styles. "So you want to start with
Lethwei style, most impressive. ( OOC: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lethwei ).
Amarith stood in front of Greg as they did their stance. Greg's size and weight
was his advantage but Amarith's agility and quickness was her way. As he was
wondering what she would do, she did a knee and punch but he had his own
counterattack. Right away Amarith's realized his hide was a nice firm one and
not some chubby one. The man was all muscle and brains, great combination for
any man or woman in this line of work. She threw a back hook kick at him to see
what his next move would be.

Greg smiled, he was far more of a boxer then into kick boxing, but he had picked
up more then a few nasty tricks during his time in the Corps. After responding
with a few basic jabs, he watched her kick come in. Stepping forward into the
kick to rob it of some power he reached forward and got a firm hold around her
waist as his leg snaked out to take out her plant foot and take the fight down
onto the mat, where his size and weight would be of more advantage dispite her
muscles being stronger on a pound for pound basis.

Amarith felt the gravity take her down to the floor quickly as she tried to
maneuvered out of the way but his tenacity and strategy paid off for him as she
felt her back hit the matt and his body knock the wind of her for a moment. Now
she was on her back looking up at him as she had to concede since he had the
upper hand on her latterly. As the breath came back to her she said to him,
"That was some maneuver you had there." She waited for his next move as to see
if he wanted to continue sparring or call it a day or maybe something else like
a new sport. "If you are about to ask," she said as she was trying to lift him,
"I am okay." She laughed a bit as she felt this was amusing.

Greg chuckled as he rolled off Amarith working his arm briefly from where her
kick had landed. "Well, I figured I was going to have to take the fight down to
the mat, otherwise that Vulcan endurance would wear me down." Standing back up
he reached down and held out his hand to her, "I take it Security doesn't do
much grappling?"

"Sure we can grapple, wrestle or whatever you like to call it," she said as she
was being helped up which she followed by a move to start a choke hold on his
neck, "How is this for starters?" she said trying to see if he would roll her or
flip her. Amarith was enjoying this one on one with Greg for he was showing
professionalism about it even getting this close to each other could be quiet
refreshing at times.

Greg felt her moved and twisted slightly moving to throw her using his hip as a
pivot point. He was enjoying the challenge of taking on the Chief of Security,
training against Marines tended to bog down as moves and counter-moves where
known by all.

For the next hour, the two of them sparred and grappled a lot. Since Amarith was
half Vulcan, she had no pride to bruise and she felt the pointers he was giving
her on how to handle herself with some one of his stature was very educational.
He was every bit an officer and a gentleman in sparring just why did he have to
be so amazing in more ways than one.

"Thank you for the lessons and the time Greg," she said as the felt the sweat on
her eyebrow. "Same time tomorrow or day after tomorrow? I could get use to this
and if you do not mind, I would having you as a partner."

Greg paused briefly and let his schedule play out in his head, "Tomorrow works
for me." He gave Amarith a smile, as he worked a kink out of his arm, "It was
very enjoyable, I rarely get to train with someone not in the Corps."

"Splendid," she said as she was noticing he was having a little discomfort and
she felt concerned for her friend so respecting protocol she said to Greg, "You
know I am half Vulcan and we are known for applying neuropressure in case if
your kink develops into something else, I could do it provided it is okay with
you," she said as she felt it was the logical and at the same time friendly
thing to for her new found friend.

Greg nodded his head, "It's more of an old combat injury, a Klingon decided to
he didn't like my head attached to my neck, managed to get my arm. Tends to
stiffen up sometimes."

Amarith's laugh betrayed how much of a good time she was having with Greg.
"Greg, you have a great sense of humor. I know how bad that can be." With the
nod of his head giving her approval to apply the neuropressure to his arm. "Now
loosen it up a bit Greg." He reached out his arm as she started applying
pressure to all the neurons in his arm. "I hope this is helping. Is it helping?"
she asked as she felt the spots in his arm. She smiled at him as she felt a
friendship growing.

"You need to find some way to cope with everything," Greg said as he winced
slightly as she applied pressure to a particular sensitive nerve. He loosened
his arm as best he could still somewhat tense, as if being totally relaxed was
somewhat foreign to him. "Feels better suprised nobody told me to try this
early," he said in response as he smiled back at her.

"These are Vulcan techniques mothers have taught their daughters to do over the
centuries as my mother has taught me. Greg, I can surprise you more on more but
you are going to have to trust me if you want me to work out these knots out of
your body more," she said as she thought to herself what was she doing. This was
causing her to fall for the guy but she wanted to keep her feelings in check.
She did not like it when her Romulan side takes her over because that is when
she gets into trouble. "I also have ways of walking on people's backs as well.
How about you come over tonight and I will make you a meal and we let this
friendship grow, okay Greg. If you say no, believe me, I will understand."

Greg's mind reeled as Amarith spoke, he blinked once to make sure he was taking
everything in before he did what Marines did best adopt rapidly to a changing
situation. Taking one of her hands in his he smiled, "That sounds lovely, what
time would you like me to come over?"

Amarith's felt pleased as he accepted her offer. "Eighteen hundred hours. I
shall see you then. Dress is casual and Greg, thank you." Looking at the time
Amarith said, "I need to go now. See you later tonight." The both stood up and
Amarith gave him a charming smile instead of a salute good bye. As she left, she
felt it was great she was making a friend of one that she has common interests
and ground. She left the area as she was headed to get clean up then to the
bridge to start her tour of duty.

"See you then," Greg said with a nod of his head as he watched her leave, before
heading back to his own quarters and getting ready for the day's exercise.

End Post:

JP by

1st Lt Greg Jackson
Marince CO
USS Perseus


Lt. Amarith
Chief of Security
USS Perseus
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