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The O'Neill

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About The O'Neill

  • Rank
    I Find Your Lack of Faith Fruitloopless
  • Birthday 06/29/2004

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    Oneillofagin
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  • Location
    P3C - 77535
  • Interests
    Shoot people, making weapons, shooting people, blowing up stuff, shooting stuff, blowing stuff up, making sure the ship doesn't blow up while I am blowing stuff up, blowing ... stuff up ...<br><br>Well you know, you get the idea.
  1. Ltjg Jack O'Neill ASEC Investigation Report It's been, to me an eternity, searching the office and rest of engineering for hidden hatches, hidden padds or anything of investigation value. I regret to note that I have found, not much. A few components that belongs to engineering, pieces that have been short circuited and burnt and forcibly ejected from its proper location. Useless items and trickets, nothing of use. I don't know if anything else that is useful would be found, from my endevour, apparently not. I searched every bulkhead, every conduit, every panel. Nothing. If Romulans liked to play hide-n-seek I'd be the first to give them that lesson, personally, with a phaser rifle. I think I'll just try again, double my efforts, if something still lingered here, I will become acquainted with.
  2. Ens. Jack O’Neill Personal Log Overall Log#6 Calm, controlled and soft air brushed by Jack's face, gently tucking at his grey hair and then moving through his shirt, making it dance as if it was alive. It was bright out, considering it was nearly eight at night. The day began to receded and the night slowly crept in on the city and the small lake. "Was it his time?" Jack asked the clouds, they made no sensible sound, if they acknowledged, no one would have known. "Was it my time, to be finally alone?" Jack asked the calm streaming lake, which whooshed and splashed on his feet. It was cool water, not too gentle and not too harsh. Not enough sense to answer his question. "Why?" Jack asked himself. Was he sad because his uncle passed away? Or was he sad because he had no more family on this tiny world? The day continue to retreat as the swarming darkness of night slowly and expertly made its advance, like an army commanded by a skilful general. Making its campaign against the day. How long have this battle lasted? How long would it go for? Jack sat down by his uncle's final burial ground. It was only traditional that he be buried near his housing and dwellings. Jack truly thanked the makers that no one attempted to industrialize this part of untouched paradise, or rather, peaceful land. "Peaceful." The word slid off Jack's lips and into the air around him, carried away by the gentle breeze. The darkness struck another victorious win against day, he was bewildered. Twenty minutes had gone by and already the sky looked like night. The sky looked down at the officer with interest, the clouds moved in closer. A tear escaped his eyes, and another, and yet another. By the time droplets became rain, by the time rain became drizzle and drizzle became torrential downpour, Jack's emotional training completely collapsed. He opened himself to the elements around him, to the rain around him, to the peaceful and gentle wind nudging him to return to his uncle's dwelling. He chose to remain. "I must stay, to accompany him once more." He called to wind and the rain, darkness enclosed his mind and heart, and the salty tears came more natural now, flowing free as if it were blood from an open wound, or ideas from an unsuppressed mind. Flowed clearly and slowly it did, the rain simmered down to a mere soft shower, caressing him into the sky's gentle arms. "I am sad, happy, surprised and bewildered." He told the lake. "Am I really going to be alone? Is he really gone? Tell me this is a dream so I can wake up." Jack wasn't going to wake from this dream if it ever was one. The clouds separated, the rain slowed its pace. Perhaps the sky was crying with him, perhaps his uncle's death was more painful than realized? He looked up. Showers of rain and wind gently cleared away the salt in his eye, brushing the sadness away, brushing depression away. The sky cleared and the rain stopped. The young ensign stood, bowed towards tombstone and assorted rocks and boulders arranged in his Uncle’s favourite patterns. Tradition? No. Stubbornness? No. It was just the way he liked it, no reason just spontaneous joy. “Joy.” He whispered to the insects that just started their graveyard shift, feeling the humid air and cool breeze. It felt like a great night for a walk. Jack paid his last respects to the stone and walked back to the dwelling. It was his, passed down from another generation. Jack marbled at how old it was but couldn’t afford to desecrate the superstition that came with it. Wet clothes went into one bin, dry clothes heated went into another, and he picked out his shirt and pants. Tucked into his uncle’s bed that now belonged to him. “I missed nothing important, only a social gathering.” Jack finally knew where everything he did wrong was. The memories jabbed him with unforgiving force. His mentor, his coach, his academy instructor, his first commanding officers, and his friend – he needed to make it up to them. For they were trying with all the power they had to help him realize his mistake. He had found it, only to be buried simply deeply in his heart. “I’m sorry every one, let me repay you, let me remind you who I actually am.” His whispers moved from his lips to the air around him, the oxygen and carbon admired the words but didn’t see the action. The wave bounced off the doubtful gas particle into the walls of the dwelling, it too were eager to see the inhabitant’s actions. The wave travelled further into the ground, mother Earth was pleased and awaited O’Neill to fulfil his debt. The unconscious world was watching, Jack was in the hot seat; it was “go” time.
  3. Ensign O'neill ASEC Log entry 5 Jack could remember it all, the scene on the mysterious race's station, the brain scan on the observation lounge's display, Doctor Levy lost for words, and Kansas' wish to have a nice chat with quiet aliens. Being so ready doesn't prepare you for the worst. Unfortunately for Jack, this week's lesson was harder to learn than first realized. Sitting in front of that science console didn't teach him how to solve a case. Albeit helped him understand the ship's controls more thoroughly than the first few days but it didn't really make him learn with his own brain. But before that, he was so prepared. All too confident of his preparation. The new security officer wasn't truly prepared for the station, wasn't prepared for the new environment, the alien environment, wasn't prepared for the air, the smell, the allergies, and so forth. He knew when he went aboard, it was a quiet investigation hoping to prove the away team's innocence, not to shoot people. But how could any kind of training prepare you for such cleanness of a crime scene? No physical evidence came up for O'neill, he was lost, he panicked, he stayed in the box. Yes, the case was a tough one to crack, the more experienced officers aboard also had trouble but he was lost, he panicked and ultimately gave up while the others pressed on with theories and solutions. He wasn't prepared after all ... Why was he here? What good for the crew can he do? What did he possess that no others have that can help the crew in the time of need? As the indirect lesson seem to suggest ... nothing ... Jack looked up, saw the mirror, saw the middle-aged man in the mirror, saw himself. Another memory flared. On starbase 12, routine maintenance was all the rage for the repair crews. Jack was one of them. Clear as crystal and looked just as transparent, carrying his engineering kit and wearing his yellow crewman's uniform. There, he learned too many useless and random facts and too little of the things becoming a starfleet officer. The problem was ... he couldn't remember the little things. "Crewman O'neill, why has this console not been replaced?" A stern Vulcan voice of an engineering officer poked him. He was working on the plasma wield for another section and had completely forgotten the console. "I'm sorry sir, I got carried with this, I'll complete the console now ..." O'neill replied, the voice quite quivered as he remembered it. It wasn't long ago but it seemed so. The Vulcan nodded and walked off. Another memory jumped in. He was holding the plasma torch again, rewielding the damaged bolts on a Bajoran freighter, the curved surface made it difficult to hold the torch properly. The shouting of orders on the loading deck distracted him ... He dropped the plasma torch on his foot, Clank, it started to eat into the deck plating. The repair team chief walked over and bunked him in the head lightly. "Oh man, oh man, Jack, what am I going to tell the Commander this time? Geez man, use the curved one? Or hold that properly. You never do ... why are you here any way? Is engineering a hassle for ya? Why don't you try the shooting range in the academy?" The big man's voice was strange, some times he couldn't tell if he was trying to act serious or thought he was just a small child, a nuisance? "I'm sorry Chief." Jack remembered the cold feeling of the plasma torch. Remembered too much of his life. Remembered too little of the lessons he learned. The mirror was clear in front of him again, showing the exact image of himself. Hair grey, from a slight gene defect. He planned to try harder. 50% he got already ... where's the rest?
  4. Midshipman O'Neill ASEC Duty Log Entry It wasn't until aboard Agincourt that Jack learned a couple of pointers. A painful learner he was. One, never ask your commanding officer about a holodeck program that may potentially damage your phych, though this one was more or less a joke of a pointer. Two, knifes are bad, very bad. Three, carry out orders as you're told with no questions asked. Four, steer clear of sick bay. Oh yes, before Agincourt, Jack would have been minced meat aboard any other ship but nah armed with new knowledge he planned to tackle some heavy problems in the future. He also noted one last thing, being assigned on a station as repair crew had taught him literally nothing, except how to wield and accidently dropping your plasma torch on your foot. Now that he stood victorious against a bar brawl in the holodeck he was ready for more action, or so he thought. Sitting on the bridge, monitoring sensors gave him new perspective on somethings, like how much more advanced these controls are to the old station which he worked, all more fun to learn. For a time O'Neill was actually enjoying himself with the sensors not having been forced to think about killing, destroying but just monitoring the dots on the screen that were his shipmates. He was enjoying his time ... until those dots disappeared. Time lapsed into a trance and when he got out of it he only heard a simple command ... Harper to Robair ... "Commander, get me three of your best unarmed fighters." Jack gulped, more fun and pain was just a hand stretch away ... eh
  5. Midshipman Jack O’Neill Security officer Holodeck Duty Report Another attempted just started, encasing the phaser within the legs of the chair was a good idea. He was barely untouched by the overload, if any one noticed that the phaser seemed to be angry it was Jack. He felt that with each passing failure of the simulation the phaser got meaner and meaner, probably it doesn’t like to be blown up so often. Jack wondered how many others have gone through this challenge. The noise subsided. He stood up. As expected three large brutish men with their face covered and very sharp knives in their hands barged in, it wasn’t a pretty sight but Jack knew that somewhere out there, nausicans are there, doing just sort of this thing. The first man dived sharply at Jack’s diagram while the other two blocked off his exit routes. Instead of running, Jack gently placed his hand on the brute’s arm then stomped on it with all his weight and available gravitation potential energy, a sharp crack came from the man’s arm, it was one of those really mind-wrenching crack and crunches. With out a second thought, the knife was in Jack’s hands. He rolled through the blockade between the two brutes guarding the first’s flank, with 12 neat and lightening quick strokes O’Neill sliced the cafes and ankles of the flanking brutes sending them to their knees slightly. Second objective was complete. The second exchange took only roughly 4 seconds, now a second later, Jack was back on his feet assessing the damage he’s done and what his next move will be. The third brute that was guard the right flank charged slowly but Jack was 4 steps ahead, body slamming him towards the other brute and their downed, and broken boned comrade. Through the disorientation, Jack quickly kicked away the third brute’s knife and jabbed his menacing knife into him a gush of simulated liquid spilt and he disappeared. Third objective was complete. He had withered away the enemy forces. The exchange took 3 more seconds, with practiced reflex Jack had no choice but to flip on his back against the downed brute’s, though it was a really back flip, he managed to get into point blank range of the second brute’s neck, with the knife raised he plunged it deep into the brute’s artery. However this second kill was pricey as O’Neill takes a massive punch to his left side and had no choice but to disengage and roll against the opposite wall. “So much for lightening strikes.” He muttered as he collected himself and the third brute’s fallen knife. The first brute laid covered in simulated blood of his comrade, Jack didn’t hesitate and tossed the knife at his left eye socket. Whooooooosh. A sickening squish sound was made as the knife impacted soft jelly of the cornea. Smashed deeper, ripping out anterior chamber, then the iris then the lens. The brute felt only minor pain but wait the knife still had more kinetic energy from the massive toss. Sliced deeper, slicing ligaments, ciliary muscles, the knife continued to plunge, smashing away the back layer of rods and cones, stripping away the sensory and interconnecting neurons. The retina, destroyed, the knife’s next destination was the optic nerve, slicing the thick nerve in half it finally reached the place its thrower intended … A series of loud squishes came from the brain; the knife penetrates the outer membrane, then the grey matter then the cerebral cortex, then the temporal lobe and stopped. Jack held his left arm and felt simulated bone fragmentation. The surrounding place dissolved slowly. The computer’s voice was heard. He had passed, but this was only the beginning. What if next time he wasn’t so lucky? What if there won’t be a next time? He sat down, this was his life now and he must protect his fellow crewmembers, even with sacrificing his life … Pain … it comes with the job … for free …
  6. Midshipman O’Neill SEC Log Entry USS Agincourt So, everything from heated battle drills to creepy mess of sickbay, it’s like I’ve seen it all. Of course I will regret say that very soon, however I truly have seen more than I bargained for. Especially on that cold station as a repair crew, no action at all, on this ship I get shot at on my first day on the alpha shift … by my superior officers, fellow officers and marines. Dude, Marines! One look at those guys and you’ve seen what the word “professional” stood. But of course I’m only a little security guy protecting the ship so give me some leeway on being a little less professional. But of course, practice makes perfect, I’d soon become what they would call “professional” but how much time would it take? Years? Decades? Well with my kind of speed of learning I’d say the next solar eclipse on Trill! Heh, in all seriousness I do miss my family … Yup, I miss my uncle, that old geezer of an old guy, though he ain’t that old, the guy’s losing his memories, he forgets ‘em every day when I was a little younger. Forgets where he put his blasted padd, the dog, and the fish, yes I miss the good old days. Just him and I, he forgettin’ stuff and I, well, just get in deep trouble with the neighbours. Memories, good and bad, I love ‘em to an extend, they make me feel that I still have some roots left. No leeway was going to get me outt’a that category. As soon as uncle told me that my parents died along time ago everything seems blurry, some times I really wonder if I was human. Being born on Trill and still be human is quite weird for me, maybe I should go get some spots they do look nice. But I am human, DNA tests, way too many of those to confirm that. Alrighty, what else do I have left to say to you, you blasted computer. Oh yeah, first day was real nice, I met lots of good people, met my department – real nice people there; I’d never thought to see a real Caitian in my life time, but there she is! Good stuff on this ship I’m glad I’ve joined. Though I do get this eerie feelin’ that something’s going to happen to uncle, I don’t know, just a instinctive feeling. Anyways Computer, I got a big appointment, probably the deathbed, with the medics, I’ll log in a little later. ::click::
  7. Oooo how about "I Find Your Lack of Faith Fruitloopless"
  8. STARFLEET DATABASE PERSONELL FILES Subject: J. F. O’Neill General: Full Name: Jack Frederick O’Neill Birthday: June 29th, 2372 Age: 25 Gender: Male Current Rank: Ensign Current Assignment: ASEC/ USS Agincourt Materital status: Single Height: 1.88 m Race: human Place of Birth: Trill Siblings: Unknown Parents: Mother: Unknown (deceased) Father: Unknown (deceased) Skin Colour: Tanned white Hair Colour: Brown, Greying Eye Colour: Brown Medical Condition: Genetic Hair Pigments Deficiency Personal Time Line: 2372: Born 2374: Left Trill to return to Earth due to parent’s death 2376: Brought to Sky Harbour Aegis with his uncle 2385: Brought back to Trill with his Uncle, started schooling 2390: Moved to Earth with Uncle, Uncle develops memory loss 2391: Begins formal Starfleet Training 2396: Graduates Academy and spends one year touring various ships and installations, served as Repair Crew aboard Star Base 12 for 3 months. 2397: Formally posted to USS Agincourt 2397: promoted to Ensign Personal Information: Jack was born on Trill, regardless of his place of origins; he is still just an average day human being. His parents were not in any chance, Trill, either, his parents’ vessel was stationed patrols routes during the onslaught of the Dominion War and he happened to be born there. Two years into his life his parents were lost when their ship was sent into battle and was abruptly destroyed, though they escape pods had been recovered, his parents were deemed “Missing”. As a result, Uncle O’Neill took him away from Trill and returned to Earth. Earth to Jack was strange and he couldn’t adapt properly, seeing this is so his Uncle contacted a good friend aboard the sky harbour Aegis and took Jack there to live in peace. After several “bad” encounters when Aegis was abruptly shaken by natural disasters, they returned to Earth again. Later that year, Uncle O’Neill developed degenerative synaptic condition and started to forget things. Jack, seeing nothing better to do, started his formal training in the Academy and graduated 5 years later, took another year of tour, then finally posted to USS Agincourt. Jack, brought up by his Uncle, was not too serious and very closed minded, though he adopts the humour he was exposed to living with his Uncle. At an early age Jack showed good Marksmanship, demonstrating this with Archery and other various games, therefore he thought security would be a good choice to use his aiming skills. Though still in his mid twenties, Jack’s hair has already begun to grey, this condition, said his uncle, was passed down from his father who also has the same condition. As Jack grew, he never really knew his parent’s or found out if he had or hadn’t any siblings, since his Uncle had forgotten it all … During shore leave, he was terrorized by a deadly bad news. His uncle was now dead. Along with him all the forgotten knowledge of his parents and his own origins, hologram photos don’t do justice to childhood and there were no record of his parents that he knew of. With out any roots left, Agincourt had indeed become his real home and his crewmates his siblings and friends. He promised to protect every one of them to the best of his abilities.