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Col. C.E. Harper
STSF GM-
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Posts posted by Col. C.E. Harper
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August 6, 2397: The kidnapped Agincourt crew face individual combats to the death. Those that survive are given a "reward" - some form of psychotropic drug that induces euphoria. The crew remaining aboard struggle to figure out what just happened, and to track the alien vessel that stole their shipmates. They had just gotten a lead when long-range sensors detected a Selshan ship approaching.
TBS: 1-2 hours
"The Colonel is out, correct?""Yes, I have given her a sedative, would you like me to wake her up?"
"Oh, no no no. Leave her sleep." -- JoNs, EMH
"Paradox, can science find any telemetry from the homing beacon I was able to attach to that alien ship Medusa was trying to transport to?"
"YOU WHAT?!"
"I'm having trouble running scans from NNC."
"YOU DID WHAT?! AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME!"
"I apologize, I thought you would have noticed it in the battle log."
"Like I've had time to read logs, Private. Send up the frequency." -- (apparently ex-Captain) Merril and Day
"Let me back! I want to go back... you hear me?" -- Rieve
"They gave some to you?"
"Oh yes. It is amazing. We need to get more of it." -- Rieve, Levy
"Ship! Long range ma'am!"
"Where? Identify!"
"Sir... it's a Selshan vessel!" -- Keltex, Day, Evtaj
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Practice, practice, practice. Like Murray, my typing speed improved when I started simming - I went from barely 30wpm to over 60, and it's purely the practice that does it.
Two tips that might help while you're working on it:
First, you don't actually need to read every line that comes up on screen. Try to sort of 'tune out' lines from people your character can't hear or see -- so you don't need to read the CMO's lines if your in Engineering, for instance, unless they've contacted you by comms. As you get better, you'll have time to read everything, but when you're just starting out, blinders help. Use the post tags to help with this -- if you need to, look down at your keys for a moment, then glance up and scan for your post and name. Don't see them? Look down again.
Secondly, you can break up your reponses into smaller sections. For instance, instead of:
<OPS> "Captain, I'm reading something strange... ::checks his sensors:: It looks like a wormhole."
you could type:
<OPS>Captain, I'm reading something strange...
<OPS>::checks his sensors::
<OPS>It looks like a wormhole.
It's the same amount of typing, but now you've cued people that you have something to contribute, so you have a little more time to get the rest out. They'll wait. :-)
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Compaq would not be my first choice; no one I know who's gotten a Compaq of any type has gone a full year without some major repair issue.
I'd suggest a Dell or Toshiba, and second A9 on getting as much RAM and physical hard disk space as you can get for your money. Laptops aren't upgradeable in that regard the way desktops are, so it's worthwhile to shell out a bit more now for space, since it will extend the usable lifetime of your laptop (at least for space reasons, it makes no guarantees regarding things flat-out breaking).
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August 6, 2397: Events are spiraling rapidly downwards on the Agincourt. A firefight in sickbay has been put down with anesthezine gas, but when the participants wake, they are no less violent. The trouble seems to be spreading, as well: all over the ship, crewmembers start fighting their way to the transporter rooms and the shuttlebay. An alien vessel drops out of warp and draws up alongside the Agincourt, beaming away all of the conscious humans aboard and some part-humans. On board that ship, the crew discovers they are to take part in some sort of combat.
TBS: 6 hours
Promotions & Awards:
Murray -- service stripe
Rieve -- service stripe
JoNs -- promoted to Lieutenant Commander
Prell -- promoted to Lieutenant Commander
"It's like people got agitated in there all at once. First, Doctor Levy became agressive with our guest. Lts. JoNs and Kassem took her into her office to cool off. Next, Lt. Rieve sent everyone out of the main part of sickbay, and pulled her phaser on our guest. At that point, I called for security, and I believe Rieve called for the Marines. Lt. JoNs saw the phaser out, rentered the treatment room, and was promptly shot by Lt. Rieve." -- Prell"Once we enter, you two will take Hair. Take her to the brig personally."
"Col, to the brig... for defending herself?"
"Until we can sort it out, yes. Standard Op Procedure. One officer shoots another, it's auto-brig."
"Sir... with all due respect... One Marine shoots a wacko fleeter...
"Follow your orders, or I will find someone who can. Is that clear?" -- Day, Greene
"Come on. We're taking you to your quarters."
"Let go of me Prell, I am not going to my quarters."
"That wasn't a suggestion....not even close." -- Prell, Levy
"Not just her. Many crew. So much negative the positive is fading quickly." - Shadow
"We're getting reports of an escape from the security offices as well, and someone is trying to beam off the ship!" - Prell
"Master Chief, this is Harper. Drop shields."
"Drop the shields?"
"You HEARD me, Master Chief!" -- Harper, Keltex
"Ok, everyone, listen up... you've trained for this scenario. Greene, left, Mendez, right, Peters straight ahead. I'll take the gangway. We'll get them before they know what hit them." - Rieve
"Welcome. Please try to remain calm. Your first rounds will start shortly, and you can get the revenge you so deserve." -- Voice on alien ship
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Lt. Col. T'Loren Day stepped into security, realizing that she hadn't had opportunity to visit the office much--she spent most of her time dealing with Marine matters. But now she was the XO, and everything was a Marine matter, especially now that half the crew jumped ship, and Medusa was in the brig. She had a feeling that this was not going to be pretty, especially after hearing the scuttlebutt about the incident between Harper and JoNs. (What had that fuzzball been thinking?!) Taking a deep breath, Paradox stepped into the brig area.
Harper was just beginning to stir again, lifting her head from the cell floor. Apparently the security officers had not wasted time getting her onto the bunk; not that it was much softer than the floor. She put a hand to her temple in an attempt to contain the small targ that was clearly rampaging through her cranium, and blinked blearily through the forcefield at Day.
T'Loren crouched down, facing her friend and superior. Some could call this mutiny. "Charlie? How are you feeling?" Perhaps the effects making her crazy were wearing off... hey, she could hope, couldn't she?
"Like I've been shocked, trapped in my own brig, shot... and oh yes, let's not forget clawed by my chief of security, who seems to be helping my second-in-command commit mutiny,” Harper growled, sitting up carefully. "What's gotten into you?"
"Oh, nothing much. Just dealing with half of the crew abandoning ship, one marine committing an unprovoked attack, a doctor wanted to attack her own patient... Hell, might as well add mutiny, if that's what you want to call it. But considering that you were trying to leave the ship...that would have left me in command anyways, so I guess you can't call it mutiny, can you?"
Medusa blinked once, then pressed the heels of her hands against her temples again. "I had to... get out..."
T'Loren tried to reach out mentally, to suppress Harper's aggressiveness, and help her extract any useful information. It was difficult, to say the least, especially since she wasn't in physical contact. Boy, was she going to have a headache later. "Get out... off the ship? To go where? Do you know?"
"Out!" Harper snapped. "Just out... out, away... away from..." She struggled for a moment, trying to think clearly, although the targ was now doing a polka with several of its offspring.
"Charlie. I need your help. Half the crew is gone. The only humans left on board are you and Melissa. Some transported off, some were taken off. We need to find them, but... where to start. Anything you can tell me... or let me help you remember... We can't just abandon them. We can't. I won't."
The hands dropped away and the colonel's head jerked up. She fixed Day with a fierce glare. "Can't run the ship with your little band of mutineers?" she spat. "Why keep me here, Paradox? Worried I would come back and reclaim my ship? Little gods, just being in the same room with you traitors makes me itch..." She rubbed her arms, shuddering, and muttered, "Have to get out..."
T'Loren shook her head, "I can't let you go... I'm sorry, but you're the only link we have at the moment to find the rest of the crew. We can run the ship without them, but I won't abandon my friends. And we're keeping you in here to keep you from harming anyone... including yourself for that matter. You'll find that the security officers did a thorough search this time. Your other weapons and blades have been removed."
"Damn you!" Harper shouted, jumping up. Almost immediately, she sat again, groaning, and put her head in her hands. "That... thing. It's responsible for this."
Her head tilted to one side, "What thing?"
"The energy being. It's corrupted you all."
T'Loren shook her head, "No, I don't think so. If so, why only the humans, or the half-blood humans? ...well, except Kairi. I don't think Shadow has personally had contact with that many, for that matter. No, it's something else... something we haven't thought of yet. It's going to require a medical work-up, I think... Though I suppose you're not likely to cooperate for that, are you?" Medusa shot her a baleful glare worthy of her namesake. "I also have to wonder if there is any way of suppressing those violent tendencies of yours... But I doubt you're interested in that, either. Do you like feeling this way, Charlotte?"
"I feel fine!" Harper protested. To herself, she muttered, "Aside from the amazing tap-dancing targ team, anyway." Shaking that thought away, she informed Day, "It's the rest of you that have gone odd -- you've turned craven on me. Did you mutiny because you lost your taste for combat, Colonel?" She put a mocking lilt on the rank, coupled with a sneer.
"I told you already, Colonel, that you can't call it mutiny if you were abandoning your post like a bloody coward. I'm not the one that's craven... you are. And it galls your soul."
"I was getting away from you mutineers!" Harper protested. "If not for that shadow-being, the loyal crew and I would be making plans to take back this ship right now!"
T'Loren shrugged, "We hadn't 'mutinied' at that point, remember. Now then, how about we see if we can get through to you... We can go the medical route first or start with the mental route. You have a preference?"
Harper flashed an evil grin at Day. "You want to come in here and muck around in my brain? Come and try it."
Paradox smiled. "You forget I'm half Vulcan... I can best you in raw strength any day of the week, Medusa. So, if that's your call... " She stepped towards the field separating the two of them.
"Oh, given that I've been shocked and stunned at least twice today, I've no doubt," Harper replied without getting up. "But are you sure you want to come visiting? It's not a pretty place in here." That wicked grin remained, as reminiscent of a predator baring fangs as an omnivoric primate could manage.
"I'm sure it's not, but as I said, you're really the only clue we've got. Computer, drop forcefield for a five second count," she said, preparing to enter.
"Step into my parlor..." Medusa murmured, leaning back on her hands.
T'Loren quickly stepped into the cell, waiting until the field reestablished before moving to sit beside Harper.
Charlie favored her with a long, assessing look, then flashed that grin again. "And now what, Paradox? 'My mind to your mind'," she intoned eerily, waggling her fingers in the air. "Ha!"
T'Loren smirked, "Not necessary... I'm only half Vulcan." She reached out and touched Harper on the wrist, initiating contact.
She flinched; it felt like ice water splashed on her skin where Day touched her. A scowl crossed her face; why was she putting up with this?
T'Loren was suddenly glad that her father had pressed her into studying the Vulcan techniques of emotional control. Those lessons kicked in, saving her from a quick route to insanity in Harper's maelstrom of violent emotions. Her first step was to dampen those emotions, to try to lock them away. But something was fundamentally not right. Every time she though she had a block in place, they broke through somewhere else.
Harper struggled to ride the waves of emotion. One moment she felt calm, if somewhat restless, and the next she wanted nothing more than to shove Day aside, or perhaps punch her right in her serene Vulcan face. Then it felt like a smothering blanket was tossed over her; she fought against it, and the cycle began anew. "What are you doing?" she whispered, wide-eyed.
This was tiring! "I am attempting to restore a more normal balance of emotion. However, something is actively causing your violent emotions." Her voice was flat, Vulcan-logic tone that T'Loren rarely used with those she knew well. It was an indication that she had shut off her own emotions. Finally, she felt success, if only briefly... "There. It won't hold long... a couple minutes at most. Now, what do you remember? Where were you trying to go?"
She shook her head. "Just... away." Squinting in concentration, Harper struggled to remember more. "I remember... I was with Troll in the holodeck, and..."
Paradox shook her own head. "I see it... There's nothing there beyond the imperative. Dang it... I hope we can find them. Charlie, I'm sorry for this, for whatever it's worth. We'll find a solution."
"There was a ship?" Medusa asked, clutching at the memory as it surfaced. "Someone mentioned a ship."
T'Loren nodded. "They beamed off all of the human crew, except you and Melissa. They even took several half-humans. Then they went to warp."
"You tracked them?"
"We're trying. We're a little short staffed, though. And their warp signature seems to fade fast, but we'll find them... somehow."
Harper nodded. "Good," she said, and smiled. "And then we'll kill them."
"You humans and your violence.” Day sighed. "When this thing breaks, you'll probably think it was a trick. But try to remember that I am your friend. And I feel it my duty to protect you from yourself... even if it means turning you over to the vampires in Sickbay."
"If it'll get me out of here," Medusa sighed, waving a hand at the cell, "and back on duty... I really could go for some time on the holodeck, Paradox. I promise to play nice with the crew... even the spook."
T'Loren smiled, wondering if Harper would realize after the fact that the entire conversation went on in their heads. To an outside observer, they had been sitting mutely the whole time, though with the occasional smile. She could feel the strain in the block. It wasn’t going to hold much longer. Something was really actively increasing the chemicals causing the violent thoughts. She sighed, withdrew her hand breaking the connection, and stood up. "I'm sorry for the headache you'll have. I'm sure it won't be any consolation that I'll have one too..."
Harper blinked up at her. "You mean you've brought another targ?"
"I'll tell the doctors to dope you up good. Computer, drop forcefield for five seconds.” She quickly stepped out, then turned to face Harper. "I'll have someone come by shortly to take you down to Sickbay."
"You're certain I can't go to the rifle range instead?" Charlie asked. "I really, really want to shoot something."
Paradox nodded, "You probably want to shoot me."
She considered that. "Well, you're on the list," she admitted. "But the spook's higher. And the aliens that took my crew."
"We'll go shoot each other in the holodeck when this is all over... and after we shoot the aliens. As for Shadow, I wouldn't bother. He'd probably like it. Now, lay down. That block is going to break any second, and you probably don’t want to be sitting up when it does."
"Couldn't possibly feel any worse," Harper muttered, but she flopped backwards anyway, stretching her arms over her head and blinking up at the ceiling lights. "Send down some hydrocortilene, will you?"
"Whatever the EMH says you can have..." T'Loren rocked on her heels slightly as the full weight of the headache came crashing down. She thought she was going to retch, though that would only make it hurt worse.
The ceiling lights suddenly felt like they were stabbing her retinas. Harper screwed up her face against the blast of pain. "Damn, Paradox," she gasped, "Now I really do want to shoot you."
Day just stood there, still afraid to move for fear of falling over. "And you probably hate me again now too." She reached up for her comm badge, "Sickbay, this is Day. Send a medtech down immediately with two doses of something for a telepath headache." Tapping again she cut the channel, then spoke again, "Computer, dim lights to 10%."
Some of the red glare faded from her still-closed eyes. "Oooo... that's better." Now if she could just remember how to move, she might be able to get a few punches in...
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Now that's just asking for trouble. At least HAL worked.... too well, one might say. PITA... meh. Computers need no encouragement in that regard!
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At one point, the three machines in the house were "Tom", "Dick", and "Harry". Mine has been HAL on occasion. The current laptop is a rather uninspired "Toshi"
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"Ensign Mical and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day"
Harper Log 03.21.07
August 6, 2397
Perseus Arm
Charlotte Harper spoke four languages fluently and possessed a smattering of useful phrases in several others.
This, in and of itself, was not unusual; the Academy's three-language requirement pretty well ensured that every officer would at least be able to stumble through a conversation in something that was neither their native tongue nor Federation Standard, and many entered with near-fluency in something or other, courtesy several years of primary school instruction. Many cadets actually picked up new languages rather than continue the old, exiting the Academy with four or five tongues under their belts.
What was unusual, as Ensign Mical was discovering, was that the colonel actually had a frightening fluency in at least a dozen languages -- provided that one was discussing the... bluer language. Upon awaking, she had worked through Federation Standard, peppered with good old-fashioned Anglish Anglo-Saxon vocabulary; gone on to a brisk summation of Shadow's honor, origins, and future disposition in Klingonese; followed that up with a long, winding series of epithets regarding Col. Day's probable parentage and proclivities in bitingly nuanced Rihan; then begun hurling imprecations at the brig, computer, and general situation in a truly multicultural tour through Vulcan, Bajoran, Tellarite, Cardassian, Trill, and several that Mical could not identify. She hadn't repeated herself yet, and some of the phrases were excruciatingly creative - to say nothing of anatomically impossible. There had even been a few in Mical's own native Andorian that were entirely new to the Ensign (she made a mental note of them), and several that the translator, in a squawk of electronic outrage, had frankly refused to render intoFedStand.
So when the stream of obscenities dropped away, the silence was loud indeed. Mical waited a few moments, but there was no hint of what the colonel might be up to. Tentatively she peered around the doorway into the cell area, antennae quivering. "Uh... Colonel?" Drawing the woman's attention was perhaps not the wisest course of action, but what was she supposed to do? Ignore the fact that she had her CO in her brig? Again, that is. It might be time to look into a duty rotation that didn't include brig watch.
"Brig officer." Harper's voice was low, purring, and frighteningly pleased. Red alert! Mical thought to herself, taking an involuntary step backwards. The colonel prowled towards the forcefield. "Lower this," she ordered calmly, motioning to the control pad.
"Uhm, colonel, I really -- that is," the ensign fumbled, wondering how the heck she was supposed to tell the de facto captain that she had to stay locked in her own brig. "I don't think I'm allowed to, sir."
"Nonsense, Ensign," Harper replied briskly, favoring Mical with a conspiratorial smile. "You've been ordered to by the ranking officer on the ship - how much more permission do you need?"
Definitely she changed rotations. "Ah, well, seeing as the ranking officer is in the brig, sir, I think I need Col. Day's..."
The colonel's smile went a few degrees colder. "Let me put this a different way, Ensign. Does the term 'mutiny' mean anything to you?"
"Something in which I definitely do not want to be involved, sir!" Mical replied promptly. "But Colonel Day's orders --"
"See this rank tab?" Harper asked, tapping the winged emblem on the right side of her chest. "What color is it, Ensign?"
"Silver, Colonel." Uncertain where this was going, Mical brushed nervously at an errant lock of her white hair.
"Very good. And what color is the one on Day's uniform?"
"Uhm. Gold, sir." Mical swallowed. "Point taken, Colonel, really. The thing is, what with all the trouble we've been having... and, uhm, completely rational commanders don't usually wind up in the brig, and..." The colonel's smile vanished, replaced with a dark scowl. Oh, good, insult the superior officer... "Not that you're not rational," she added hastily. "I mean -- At the moment you're -- That is... I think I'll go back to the desk now." She gestured vaguely behind her, taking a step backwards.
Harper sighed. "I really didn't want to have to do this," she said. "It will look so bad on your record." Pitching her voice a little louder to engage the vocal pickups set into the ceiling, she said, "Computer, deactivate brig forcefields. Authorization Harper, pi-four-nine-gamma-three-eta." There was an obedient chirp from the computer, and a hum, while all Mical could think was 'uh-oh.' Then, blessedly, the dry female voice of the computer said neutrally, "Those command codes have been suspended by order of the first and second officers and the acting chief medical officer." Thank all the winged gods, Mical thought, and ducked out of the cell area before the rage building in Harper's eyes could find a target.
A second spate of profanity drifted out in her wake. The ensign resumed her place at the desk and thought very, very hard about her future in security. Or possible lack thereof.
She had just about decided that she was likely to survive this incident with rank and career -- if not sanity -- intact, when she realized that the colonel had gone ominously silent again. Dreading what she might find, but driven by a combination of duty and morbid curiosity, she tiptoed back to the doorway and peeked into the cell-block . She could only see Harper's elbow, and now and then a bit of hip, knee, or foot; the colonel was crouched by the near side of the forcefield-frame. Mical tipped her head, wondering what the woman was up to now, and slowly became aware of an odd scraping sound punctuated by the occasional soft clunk.
That sinking feeling was back. Mical hurried forward, stepping in front of the colonel's cell...
Harper was prying at one of the wall panels. It was already popping loose at one corner; a second seemed likely to surrender to the marine's determined assault at any moment. Her tool of choice was... Oh, no. Bad, very bad! Mical thought frantically. In the colonel's hand was a standard-issue marine utility knife. Frisk the prisoners! Always frisk the prisoners!
While her mind attempted to wrap itself around the concept of commander-as-prisoner, one thought stood out clearly: There was absolutely no way this would end well.
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You graduate when you demonstrate to the hosts that you have the skills to handle an advanced sim. The 3 sims is a lower limit; most people take more than that.
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Tenth and final set of the third round, the Player's Choice round. This unique take on a word brought to you by Col. Day!
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Ninth set of Round Three, the Player's Choice round. This word brought to you by Cpt. Merril!
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"Painting the Roses Red"
by Odile Condacin and Col. Harper
"Colonel Medusa," a drawling voice announced gravely, "in the cargo bay, with the pod."
"I didn't know you took an interest in obscure 20th-century games, Sin," Harper replied without turning.
"Not particularly, but then again, those kinds of little bits of information come in handy on occasion. For instance; now. And besides, don't you have hobbies outside of jarheadly death and mayhem? Maybe you should look into taking an interest in something like," the Xenexian fairly sniffed, mimicking the colonel's tone, "obscure 20th-century games."
"The trouble with your hypothesis, Mrs. Peacock, is that no one here has died." She turned around to face the smirking Xenexian, hands on hips. "In fact, we appear to have precisely the opposite problem - a living individual where by all rights we should have a dead body."
"That can be fixed."
"Sin, even I'm not going to let you kill someone."
Odile leaned back against the nearest bulkhead, continuing to wear the smirk. "It was Odile in the cargobay with the jellyfish venom."
"In that scenario, you're far more likely to be the victim." Harper's gaze drifted back to the now-empty pod, considering it as though her glare could make it surrender its secrets. She almost forgot that Condacin was still standing there watching.
"Science hasn't been able to trace down anything that you don't already know, Harper. And I'm sorry for that." Condacin sighed, moving a few steps nearer the pod, wearily. "I think Jamie's running some analysis or the like. But I'll be damned if the whole mess makes any sense."
"It's like something out of a storybook," Harper mused absently. "As if we weren't already down the rabbit hole ourselves, now we have time-travelling women in stasis."
She nodded. "At least we haven't a mad queen who likes to sentence people to beheadings. Though, out here... you never know what space sickness can do." The scientist eyed Harper warily.
A smile bordering on 'smirk' played about the colonel's lips. "Worried about your neck, O'd'yl?"
"Should I be?"
"Always." The smile took on a predatory edge, then dropped away. "But you haven't annoyed me -- more than usual -- lately."
The minion of the evil Marine queen of hearts pretended to relax. "Ahh, very good. So perhaps I would be a playing card. What would I be? A diamond?"
"I think a club, blunt as you are."
"Well if we're talking 'blunt', then you'd clearly be more suited to the Queen of Spades. You're a sharp little warlike hellion when you want to be, which clearly is practically always." She smiled sweetly, reviewing where the exits were as she leaned against the alien's pod.
Harper shook her head. "Now, 'hellion' I'll cop to, but I haven't been called 'little' in years."
"Nobody uses terms of endearment on you? I'm sorry."
The colonel sighed, turning away from the pod again. "Look around you, Sin. We're surrounded by babies."
"Rueful, Colonel?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Though, you're not even wrong, at that. The privileges that go along with Fleet
experience." She snorted.
"Not rueful, precisely." She chuckled. "Just not much opportunity for terms of endearment since we dropped through the latest incarnation of the Delta Triangle."
"We poor officers of the new Bonaventure. Unlucky in navigation, unlucky in luck, and unlucky in love."
Somewhat grimly, Harper replied, "As long as our luck in battle starts turning, I think I can live with those three."
"We're still flying," Odile commented.
"Thanks to the market."
"You made a good call with it."
"Thank the cat," Harper said, waving off the compliment.
"Well, I would, but she's been a little bit on the... harried side? Is that the term I'm looking for? Bottle-brush tails I tend to avoid."
An actual, honest laugh greeted that. "When did you grow sense?"
"When I heard the rumors that the cat was pouncing around and had her claws out?"
"Definitely we thank the cat."
Odile waved it off. "I'll mention it if we're stuck together."
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August 6, 2397: The doctor's unorthodox methods gain results; 'Apple' cracks and explains the scheme that led to her appearance in a pod from two centuries before her own time. Unfortunately, the revealations seem to enrage her listeners. The doctor has to be removed from the room, but it does little good as a free-for-all breaks out in sickbay.
TBS: 5 minutes
“I have an urge to shoot things, Mr. Troll. Care to join me?”“Always willing to cause havoc.”
“A man after my own heart. Shame I can't cause the kind of havoc I'd like to, but one must set a good example.” -- Harper, Merril
“The Federation has Marines now?”
“Did the Federation have no Marines when you left?”
“ No, not really... But then everyone was so relieved by the end of the war with the Klingo.... You tricked me!” – ‘Apple’, Rieve
“Why are there so many people in here, when did my sickbay turn into a circus?” – Levy
“I'm not a doctor, or even a counselor, but it could be stress. Things have been tense for all of us lately.” -- Kairi
“Rieve pulled a phaser on our "guest", and Chief Levy got agressive with Lt. Kairi.”
“On my way. Lock it down, hit the whole room with Anestazine.” -- Prell, Day
“What's the situation, Hair?”
“We have Fleeters and a lying alien woman going crazy on us...” – Day, Rieve
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"Willful Ignorance"
Harper Log 03.14.07
August 6, 2397
Perseus Arm
Harper ignored the insistent comm coming not over her suit's systems, which were linked into the holoprogram, but over the shipcomm, which meant it emanated eerily from the space-darkness around them, as though the stars were speaking. If the stars spoke with the tense voice of her second-in-command, anyway. Why was she being bothered with this? At what point had her job description turned into 'hand-holding mommy'? The crew knew their jobs -- or they had better -- and they could very well do their jobs without her giving them step-by-step instructions.
And if they couldn't, well, perhaps it was better to know now rather than in a real crisis. If the barnacles couldn't handle something as simple as subduing a doctor (barely a step up from civilians, really) having a snit over an obnoxious civilian, then divinities all forfend the Agincourt find itself boarded by real hostiles. The Marines would just have to teach them how it was done. And if they were good, she'd even let them visit the doctors after class.
The image made her smile fiercely behind her helmet's faceplate, even as she made contact with the station's smooth outer hull, scrabbling for a hand-hold. Yes, it would be good to educate the barnacles in real combat; let them go long enough with soft brig-watch duty and softer token reception guard duty and they forgot what it was like to have people shooting at you. To say nothing of putting on a little pudge 'round the middle. We'll have to run them around the deck a few times first, she mused, or they'll never last through the exercises.
In the meantime, if Apple should happen to pick up a bruise or two, well - what harm in that? It wasn't as if they were still constrained to twenty-first century medicine; she could be healed in moments. It wasn't as if she didn't deserve a little discomfort. Mouthy little taHqeq. Welcome her to the current century with a bang; it'd be good for her disposition. And they could all just stop intruding on the first decent rec-time Harper had gotten in an age. The gym and the target range had nothing on the adrenaline rush of a full combat scenario.
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August 6, 2397: Our guest is questioned by several members of the crew, and details begin to come to light -- including certain hints of her deception. Engineering teams begin dismantling the pod in an exhaustive search for clues to what brought a time-traveller halfway across the galaxy. Security is decidedly unhappy with the traveller's presence aboard ship.
TBS: 10 seconds
"She comes from just before first contact. These ideas might just be normal for people of her time.""Yes, I believe you are right." -- Rieve, Levy
"I only just began looking it over myself, but I can tell you the material IS from the mid-21st century. Quantum dating just proved it."
"How does a ship from 2050 get halfway across the galaxy and forward 4 centuries?"
"Temporal Mechanics were never my forte sir, but I would guess a wormhole. Perhaps a component in the pod caused a timeshift, something we've passed over." -- Prell, Harper
"It threw water. In my FACE. And your... your doctor... she left me no time for retaliation. Nor did your Marin -- it's not FUNNY, Charlie!" -- Condacin
"Mr Nimetti, this is JoNs. I want the patrols doubled outside of the sickbay. No longer one person standing post; I want two at all times. I also want someone monitoring those feeds 24/7. In addition to the guard outside the bay, I want the ship patrols doubled too. The woman is not what she appears. I sent Mr. Shadow to scare her a bit, and she didn't even bat an eye... I also want some of our people assisting SCI with background information gathering - We need something concrete on the woman soon."
"How many crewmen?"
"As many as we have free. We're pulling from the armory teams as well. every vital area of the ship is to be quietly locked down and patrolled." -- JoNs, Nimetti
"I don't like to pry into people's minds. I would rather you tell me. The more you keep hiding things the more I want to know. I can get in you head with or without your help."
"I would rather not say." I am so going to kill.. but he'll already be dead... everyone's dead, aren't they....
"Kill? Interesting, who pray tell?"
"I thought you just said you didn't pry."
"Well, I lied, but then again so did you."
"Dang... what I'd give to deal with a Vulcan instead." -- Levy, "Apple"
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August 6, 2397: Our guest wakes in sickbay, and promptly wears out her welcome. The crew demonstrate incredible restraint. Some information about the guest's state of mind comes to light. And the engineers are behaving more strangely than usual.
TBS: 30 minutes
WotW: Pun
"God only put intelligence on one planet--Earth.""Ah... then those 'ET's you were ranting about a moment ago were... not intelligent?"
"Even mice reproduce. It does not require intelligence."
"...and build starships?"
"Hmph!" -- Our Guest, Harper
"Chief, I'm telling you, you should try this pool table. It's not too bad as a makeshift bed." -- Murray
"The woman has much negative energy. The pod in which she came is primitive, but effective."
"Mmm... I'm seeing that. Is she hostile?"
"Hostile? I do not like her. Her energy has a variance that I have not seen in the crew on the ship."
"She's more than likely insane. Which means she'd be perfect to serve here." -- Shadow, Condacin
"I say we slip laxative in her meals..."
"Hmm... I think we should call science up here. I'm sure Odile would like to run some tests." -- JoNs, Kairi
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Torres was seen several times wearing a jacket that appeared to have tools sticking out of pockets. (this was while the actress was pregnant; the jacket tends to hide the early signs)
Pockets open where the shoulder color meets the main body, apparently.
There's a good image of it here: http://voy.trekcore.com/gallery/displayima...=168&pos=58
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August 5, 2397: The Agincourt has brought aboard a capsule that appeared from a small wormhole in a strange sector of space. Upon examination, the capsule was identified as originating from the Internation Space Ship Athena, a colony ship launched in 2057. It contained one woman, in stasis, but power was failing. The science team was forced to revive her, whereupon the shock of discovering herself on a starship among aliens in the future promptly caused a more natural unconciousness.
TBS: 50 minutes
WotW: Bonaventure
"Head down to the cargo bay. we just brought a "Thing" on board. Several teams will be checking it out. I want you both to keep personnel to minimum. Only cleared teams and the command staff are to come and go from that bay." -- JoNs"Get to work on opening that thing."
"The being will die if opened." -- Kroells, Shadow
"She's got some minor injuries. A couple broken ribs, minor smoke inhalation....almost looks like she was in a battle."
"Looks more like damage sustained during an emergency evac." -- Kroells, Merril
"ISS Athena, Colony ship that left Earth in late 2057 bound for Beta Coronus. Ship never arrived. Debris found by second ship indicating the Athena was destroyed with all hands. Crew and colonists numbered 5,498." -- Day
"2057... what's it doing out HERE?"
"Wormhole through time?"
"Is that possible? Wait, never mind. Weird is what we do..." -- Harper, Merril
"Col, if the date is correct, the term 'starship' would not be used for another few decades either."
"DECADES?"
"Thanks, Hair." -- Rieve, Guest, Harper
"She's from a different time, where humans didn't know aliens like you or me even existed." -- Kairi
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It'd be easier to calculate from Eastern -- you're one hour behind, and you're probably used to hearing it on TV: "7, 6 Central!" and whatnot. :-) Our schedule is listed in Eastern first. Take tonight's Academy:
9 PM ET6 PM PT Starfleet Academy
That's 9 pm Eastern, so for you, 8 pm.
Oh, and welcome to STSF!
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Seventh set of Round Three, the Player's Choice round. This word brought to you by Lt. Prell!
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Sixth set of Round Three, the Player's Choice round. This word brought to you by Lt. Murray!
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Fifth set of Round Three, the Player's Choice round. This word brought to you by Lt. Kairi!
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Can anyone give me the information necessary to start with the Academy this evening? I'm not sure how to log in to the Academy so as to begin my training. Any advice?M-
Hello and welcome!
Logging into the Academy is as easy as logging into these boards. You can just click the "Live Chat" button in the top bar, or you can go to the main page and click "Chat Rooms" -- your login name and password are the same as the boards. Once you're logged into the chat, double-click the Holodeck room, and there you are!
It's best to show up a bit early for an Academy - 10-15 minutes or so is good - so that posts can be assigned before the hour, allowing the game to start promptly. And you can get to know some of your fellow simmers while you wait.
Check out the help section, FAQ and if you have time, read some of the Tips From the Moose posts. They'll give you an idea about how to sim. You could also read some of the past Academy chatlogs, but they can be a bit hard to follow if you're not used to reading them.
Welcome to STSF!
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August 5, 2397: Cautiously entering the region of space that grabbed Science's attention, the Agincourt discovers that a huge section of space is alight with opening and closing wormholes, ranging from the microscopic to a few meters in diameter. The mystery is compounded when one of the opening wormholes - with a suspected terminus near the Federation, no less - spits out a cylindrical object 2.5 meters long. It has a power source, and even stranger, life-signs identified as human.
TBS: 20 minutes
WotW: curvature
Promotions & Awards:
Kairi -- service stripe
Levy -- service stripe
Shadow -- service stripe
Harper -- Bronze Good Conduct, service stripe
Merril -- Promoted to Marine Captain
Prell -- made Second Officer, Bronze Good Conduct, service stripe
"Shadow's warning us that the energy fluctuations are a danger to the crew, and advises we move back.""I agree, no telling where the next holes will open." -- Condacin, Prell
"Have you still been feeling...well, weird since we were in the bazaar?"
"In my line of work you get use to being exposed to odd things and get use to the odd feeling." -- Kairi, Levy
"You are not frightened of the danger? You do not fear being lost or taken out of existance?"
"Not really. I mean, I like being "Here" but I wouldn't mind seeing whats "There" either."
"In your state of matter you probably will not live to see what is there." -- Shadow, Kroells
"Colonel Marines and Mr Prell - we have a sighting! Today is a good day to scan!" -- Keltex
"Shall we bring it on board, Medusa?"
"Let's get it into one of the bays -- but put it in isolation, just in case." -- Day, Harper
in USS Agincourt Briefings & Logs
Posted · Report post
(Dr. Thekk played by Col. Day)
"Guinea Pig"
03.28.07
August 6, 2397
Perseus Arm
Dr. Thekk took over working on the... whatever it was that was affecting the Colonel. She administered a counter-agent to reduce the excessive aggression hormones in the human's blood stream, along with a stimulant to wake her back up. Book research was great, but sometimes you just had to interact with your patient.
Harper groaned softly as she came around; the headache had eased, but her muscles hadn't burned like this since basic. She blinked up at the bright overhead light, trying to place it.
"It's okay, Colonel. You're in Sickbay. How do you feel?" She moved into the woman's line of sight, while still keeping a little distance between them, just in case.
"Mm, sore." She tried to sit up, and encountered resistance. A restraint field hummed into existence over her. Carefully she turned to look up at the Andorian doctor. "Why am I in sickbay?"
"Do you remember being in the brig? Trying to leave the ship? Colonel Day sent you down. You've been infected with some kind of virus that is heightening your aggression."
"The brig I remember," Harper admitted. "I don't remember how I got here." She reached up to rub her temples and bumped into the field again. "I take it you don't have a cure yet?"
She shook her head. "We're working on it. But unfortunately, it has thus far eluded us. It seems to have been manufactured, that much I can tell you. And it was tailor made for humans. But with only two people to get information from, we are somewhat limited. Do you still have a headache? The Colonel said you might..."
She smiled without mirth. "Comparatively speaking, I'm right as rain. Though I feel like I've been on the academy survival trek... Why am I so sore?"
The Andorian woman smiled. "You don't remember fighting with Captain Merril? Lt. Cmdr JoNs? and...Shadow? You've had quite the day, Colonel. Quite the day."
Harper winced. "Stupid stun settings," she grumbled.
"I'm sorry I can't give you anything more right now. But, aside from sore, how do you feel? I've administered a temporary block on the neurotransmitters affected, but as with whatever it was that Col. Day did, it won't last. The virus is actively pumping adrenaline and other chemicals into your bloodstream. I hope we can counter it before it completely burns out your adrenal gland." She paused, looking chagrined. "Oops. I probably shouldn't have told you that, but, well... I don't like to fib to my patients."
"So comforting," the colonel replied dryly. "I don't have any urge to throttle you, if that's what you're asking. What about a permanent cure?"
"We're working on it. But the ship is essentially half-staffed. And more than 50% of the medical staff was human or half-human. I'm going to try to recruit Captain Merril as soon as he's available. Unfortunately, this is mostly a matter of trial and error. We tried filtering it out with the transporters. Didn't work, but then I didn't think it would since the crew beamed off. Do you have any idea at all where this might have come from?"
"Don't look at me," Harper replied, "I barely had time to take shoreleave."
"There's just so many places it could have come from... But I *don't* think it was brought by Melissa, our guest from the past. She's several days behind in developing symptoms. We're hoping for a comparison between the two of you. In the meantime, is there anything I can get for you?"
"Water?"
She nodded, moving to the replicator and ordering a chilled water with a long straw for the CO. Bringing it back, she hesitated for a moment, then released the restraint field. "Just for a few minutes. You can get up, stretch your legs for a minute. I warn you, there are security guards posted just outside."
"Thanks." Carefully getting up, she accepted the glass and sipped. "You said Melissa -- I thought her name was Apple? -- was behind in symptoms. Who's ahead?"
"You're ahead. And her name is Melissa. I guess she was part of a scam, gone wrong." The doctor filled her in on the recent events and information surrounding their visitor from the past, as well as the events that took place in Sickbay prior to the mass defection of the crew. "The two of you are the only humans left on the ship."
Pacing -- well, really, it was more like ambling quickly -- around the sickbay, Harper said, "And all of the others were affected?"
She nodded. "Every full human, and most all of the half humans as well. The only half human exceptions are Kairi Kassem and T'Varek."
Harper nodded abstractedly. "So is this thing airborne, to spread so fast?"
"Most likely. But then one person infected, if it was spread by touch or contact, could still pass it around pretty quickly on a ship this size. Especially if it can survive on surfaces for a time."
She sat back down on the biobed, sipping the water again. "Who had the first symptoms?"
Shrugging, the doctor replied, "It's really hard to say. It wasn't like people came in to report that they were feeling pissy. Do you need to use the head?"
A blush warmed her cheeks, but she set the glass down. "Well, mother always said take advantage when you can." She hopped off the biobed.
The doctor smirked. "No fair trying to slip out a jefferies tube, either."
"I'll be good," Harper replied dryly. "If only to keep you from escorting me there."
A grin lit the woman's blue face. "I don't think you're that far gone... yet, anyways. But I want to check your hormone levels as soon as you're done."
"All right, all right.” She made her escape to the head, grumbling all the way about vampires and pincushions. And all the way back, as well. "I suppose this is a bad time to mention that I dislike long sickbay stays?"
"Is there ever a good time to mention that? Or a good time for long sickbay stays, for that matter? And you'll excuse me, I hope, if I just scan, and don't actually use you for a pincushion. That's so... 21st century.” She grabbed a tricorder and scanned. "The levels are back up 50 percent." A quiet curse escaped her lips. "Would you prefer to be unconscious for your long stay or awake?"
"Oh, definitely unconscious, if I get a choice. No offense, doctor, but sickbay walls give me nightmares."
She nodded. "I quite understand. We'll find a cure as soon as we can. Please lay back down." She waited while the Colonel complied, then reactivated the field. A moment later, she picked up a hypo.
"So I get to be the guinea pig." Harper sighed. "My life's ambition.
She pressed the hypo to Harper's neck, releasing the sedative. "At least we have one... no offense."
"Mmm... I'll...." she yawned, "think about ... it..."