John Kroells

“Saying What Matters” A Kroells and Teykier production Laarell stomped through the recently turned mud and stopped a few inches from the science team's manual laborer, a smile spreading across her face. "Travis?" He stood up, and turned to face her, a cynical look on his face. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" The Orion sighed, putting her hands on her hips. "You know why I did that." He scowled at her, obviously not liking that excuse. "I can understand why you wouldn't jump into my arms as the sun set on some old earth-style film. But you could have at least acknowledged me as existing." "I suppose I could have. May I apologize, dear?" "I suppose you can give it a shot." Dropping to one knee, she clasped his left hand in hers and looked up into his eyes with an earnest expression on her face. "Will you forgive me, my love?" For a man that had experienced at much as Travis had, the shock was still apparent on his face. It wasn't everyday that an Orion willing got down on her knees in such a fashion. "Laarell..." "Do you accept?" Her voice was small, pleading. He quickly pulled her up, half out of chivalry, half out of fear someone would see the exchange, and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "Of course." She grinned, delighted. "Understanding, aren't you." She returned the kiss, her lips lingering over Kroells' for a moment. "So hard to function as both a working officer and an Orion woman." He pondered for a moment, thinking back to his past love interests, and personal life when it conflicted with the fleet. "I too often dealt in absolutes." "Easier for you, Travis. You're human... no one has prejudices about you from the moment you step into a room. They see me, and the only question in their mind is how long it'll be before I take my clothes off." She smirked, shaking her head. "Don't go saying something smartass. You witnessed the exception, where I did just that." He smiled at her, trying not to set off that temper. "There are plenty or aliens around that have prejudices against humans. But you..." He paused as he put his hands on her shoulders, "You carry yourself like no officer I've seen before." She exhaled slowly, smiling in a genuine manner. "You don't know how much that means to me." He gave her another kiss on the forehead. "I think I can imagine."

“Morning People” A Kroells and Teykier production Travis let out a small, sleepy sigh as he rolled over and woke up. He didn't remember his senior quarters being as...large. Laarell was jostled awake by Kroells, yawning as she turned on her side. "What time is it?" He looked over to her, and then to her chronometer. "Uh... 0730" "Mmph," she muttered, sitting up. Even half awake, she was still quite attractive. "I don't go on shift until twelve hundred. Good timing." He watched as the blanket fell from her as he sat up, quickly removing whatever cob webs were left in his brain. "So...what’s the plan for today?" More sex... "Breakfast?" He saw the glimmer in her eyes. "We are going to eat...right?" "Well... you are..." He blinked, and then let a small smile show. "Glad to see you approve," she said, laying back on the bed. He paused for a moment, that too good to be true feeling coming around. "Am I just...oh, what’s a good word for it...Your boy toy?" "Would that be a bad thing?" she asked, genuinely concerned for his sense of self esteem. He let out a small sigh, thinking for a moment. "I don't know...I mean, I really enjoy the whole "In a bed with a naked Orion" scenario...But, I'm thirty years old Laarell. I can't be gallivanting across the galaxy forever you know." "You could always go back into the Fleet, you know." "Being in Starfleet is gallivanting across the galaxy with a dress code." "True, but it gives you a sense of purpose which you desperately need, Travis. Think about it." He gave her a small frown, in this sense, they were polar opposites... "I do have a purpose. I'm the co-owner of a bar which, in about four days had nearly half of it's alcohol consumed. I feel like, for the first time in a long time, that things are going right. I'd like to think you're part of that." He paused, and quirked a smirk. "Besides, I remember you saying that Starfleet wasn't right for me before." "I changed my mind about that. You're part of Starfleet whether you'll admit it or not." She pulled the sheet up around her. "What would it be like for us? Me an ambitious Starfleet officer risking life and limb every time I ship out... you a bartender?" His eyes drifted off a bit, two other women entering his mind. "I..." "You what?" His eyes returned to her. "I...I've lost people to the fleet. You flying out into that...isn't something I like to picture." "What are you saying? Do you not want me to stay in the Fleet?" "No...I really don’t know what I’m saying. Besides, I bet your as eager to leave as I am to join." "That's about right. And I actually think it's good that we're not crewmates. It might make things a little...awkward?" His arm gently trailed along hers. "I suppose. I doubt Corizon would appreciate me tearing you from your station in a lustful frenzy." "No, he wouldn't," she said, smiling. "But that lustful frenzy part..." He smirked, and pulled her into a deep kiss, that sultry dance starting all over.

“The Devil’s Mask” A Kroells and Teykier production (Note: This log takes place before Laarell's "Things with Stingers..." log) A neatly-uniformed Laarell stalked down the corridors of the station towards Mog's, forest-green with embarrassment. As she walked through the door, she noted lover boy and his Ferengi keeper chatting. Standing off to one side, she coughed quietly to get John's attention. John slowly walked over to her, still feeling the effects of last night as he crashed into a table. He finally reached her, and ran his hand through his hair. "Hey." "Hello," she said, looking around cautiously, as if she did not want to be seen in any form there. "How might you be, John?" No trace of the loose-morale Orion from the night before. Business-like officer. "I'm pretty sure something..." He paused as he looked her over. "Or someone crashed into my head last night." She smiled faintly. "I came to apologize. My behavior was unfitting of a lieutenant aboard the Excalibur. And also to ask that you don't share what happened with anyone." He gave her a slow nod. Any faster movement was likely to cause brain damage in this state. "You don't have to worry about me. However...you should probably slip Mog a couple strips of Latinum at the next chance you get." She blinked. "For the drinks?" He blinked. "So he wont tell any body about our...behind the counter samplings..." "Good thinking." She took reached into her pocket and produced a large handful of latinum. "For your lips not to be loose, Barkeep." Mog quickly pocketed the bribe, and looked around innocently. "Obviously opening parties can get out of hand. Hopefully next time my Bartender wont get into a drinking contest with the Nausican construction workers." Laarell nodded. "Of course that's what happened. The nerve of him." She gave John a sly smile. "The very nerve." John sighed and shook his head, having his boss and his one night lover gang up on him. "Obviously Nausicans get into a fighting mood when drinking Mog. When's the last time I ever backed down from a fight?" Mog quickly countered. "Yeah, that's why they kicked you out of Starfleet-" He was quickly silenced by a look from John that could tear through the entire station. Laarell's eyebrows raised and her expression cooled. "Kicked out?" John's scowled continued. "I resigned." Mog piped in. "I'll tell you for five strips." John quickly turned to him. "No you won't." Mog chuckled. "This hardly implicates you with anything serious. Besides, I’m a Ferengi. Deal with it." She reached into her pocked and pulled out seven. "Speak, Mister Mog." Her smile was warm again. "Well, this goes a way back...so forgive me if I’m foggy." He paused again, looking upwards in an attempt to pull the memories from the air. She handed over another four strips. "Fogginess go a la bye-bye?" she asked. "Ah yes, now I remember. Tr-" "Careful." "Oh come on, like she wont search the databanks after this anyways. So where was I...ah yes. John here was the CSCI of the some old stogy ship. I cant remember exactly how it came to be, but he ended up as the acting XO of the ship." John let out a sigh. "I should have been in charge. I out ranked her." "Insubordinate thinking," she muttered. Mog scoffed. "Yeah, and like you wouldn't have done anything she asked of you anyways. You were so madly in love with her!" "Gods! Why don't you just write the book while your at it!" Laarell was silent. Conquest was right. John shook his head. "If he's going to spin it like that, I'll just tell you. I went around her authority. Because of that, I blew out the EPS relays on seven decks, and nearly killed twelve people." He paused for a moment, replaying the memories. "Because of it, I faced dishonorable discharge, not to mention criminal charges. So I resigned." "Should have listened to your superiors, huh?" she mentioned offhandedly. He frowned, whatever he found attractive in her last night buried under that damn uniform. "One day that line of thinking is going to get you, or others killed." "Almost got those crewmen killed, eh?" His anger was very apparent now as he took a step closer to her. "My past is my own business. I don't need to answer to you or anyone else on this station for what I've done. You should do well to remember that just because someone has more pips then you, you shouldn't follow them with a blind faithfulness. Authority is meant to be questioned. Its what keeps a democracy from becoming a dictatorship." She pulled back before smacking him across the face with rather pointed fingernails. "Do not attempt to make me give up my career to mimic your insubordination. I am loyal to some of those people." The Orion was beyond furious as she shoved him in the direction of the bar. "Take me for your own pleasure but do not respect my beliefs? You aren't like most humans. Most humans have either a brain or a heart. You have neither, you selfish swine." He let out a slow breath, determined not to lose control to her. "Mog, can I have a moment?" He quickly walked off. "Don’t damage my property!" "You want a fight, you don't have it. I'm not about to lose my commission over your petty idealistic trash. You want a democracy start one on your own planet. Don't try to taint my vision of Starfleet and the Federation because you couldn't belong." He paused for a moment, the drunken demeanor he had gotten used to showing fading away. "And what is that vision Ms. Teykier? What do you see when you think of Starfleet, of the Federation?" She took a seat, debating whether or not she'd be court-martialed for decking the bastard. "I see the organization which has helped countless billions of individuals avoid death through starvation on Antos XII. I see the people who have dedicated their lives to scientific research of new life in the Gamma quadrant. I saw hundreds of good Starfleet personnel firsthand during the Breen attack on Earth. They died to save the civilians they swore to protect." Her voice trailed off for a minute. "People don't willingly give their lives for the corrupt organization that you're describing, Kroells. You, not Starfleet, you are corrupt." He let out a small chuckle, he couldn't help it. He'd heard it before, from so many people. "And from my point of you, you're the corrupt one." "Why? Because your conquest has a speck of loyalty in her green veins?" She would never break down in front of him, but somewhere inside the green shell she was hurt. He openly frowned, hurt as well. "Your loyalty is blind Laarell! I'm not telling you to run to the Hundred and give them the stations defense layout. I’m not telling you to defect to the Dominion! For Gods sake I’m just asking you to step back for a minute and look objectively!" "John, I swore an oath to these people. And them to me. They're in place for a reason." Her tone was controlled, but still filled with power and strength, as well as a fair helping of anger. "I swore that same oath. There wasn't a damned person I wouldn't lay my life down for! Gods Laarell...your not disloyal to your crewmates for having your own opinions about the orders your given!" She paused a moment, gathering her thoughts. "If and when there was a question, I might react the same way you did. But that... that's never happened to me." He walked closer to her, his posture friendly. "I can only pray it doesn't. I'm not proud of the path I've traveled since Starfleet, its partly the reason I’m here. I don't want you to picture me, here in my ruin as the example of what happens to those who question authority." He paused again, looking away for a second. "My actions may have ended up causing more harm then not acting at all, but I did it for them. To protect them. Knowing that, I'd do it all over again." The green one nodded, her eyes downcast. "May the spirits look upon you with happier eyes than in the past." She gently ran a ringer over his lips. "Handsome devil, aren't you?" she said, walking out. His eyes glistened, as he watched her leave. He would have said 'They all say that' had he not noted something. "They usually leave out the handsome part..."

Camelot Station Civilian Bios Subject: John Kroells Access Granted Personal Data Name: John Kroells Species: Human Gender: Male Age: 30 Height: 6’2 Weight: 180 lbs Eye Color: Hazel Marital Status: Single (Due to incompetent relationship skills) Personal Motto: “Carpe Diem” Business Information Business: The Holy Grail Owner Status: Co-Owner Location: Deck 25: Commercial Concourse (Upper Level) Starbase Camelot Avalon System, Gamma Quadrant Personal Information A former Starfleet officer, forced to resign over the risk of a dishonorable discharge. John has spent the last three years roaming about doing random odd jobs for various people. While it is rumored that he has ties to several criminal organizations including the Orion Syndicate, he denies any involvement. It’s even suspected that “John” isn’t even his real name. Eventually he met up with his old friend and Starfleet Academy classmate Mog, and the two decided to go into private business together. Eventually deciding to open business in the Gamma Quadrant, the two set up shop on Starbase Camelot, the base of operations for the Federation, Klingon, and Romulan forces in the quadrant. A man who finds adventure at every turn, John is sure to cause more then a stir in Avalon.