Sendai Riko

Unfortunately, a lot of people are.

The built-in motivational hairstyle where you can attach the proverbial carrot or whatever else will get the customer moving forward.

The Dangers of Alternating Current Lt. J.G. Sendai Riko Riko was sincerely surprised. Other than K'Walus' first reaction to knock him on his keister while still in the shuttle, he had managed, for the time being anyway, to avoid receiving any niggling or serious injuries due to his unauthorized actions. She had promised him that he'd face the consequences later when the time was right, and he certainly wasn't looking forward to it, whatever it would be. He didn't even want to think about it, because a worried feverish imagination could engender a lot more fear and pain than the reality, and since he felt his actions justified, there was no point in punishing himself. He left his quarters after freshening up, and slipped into a lift. After a moment, he slipped quietly into the control center and loitered silently in the back to find out what the consequences of Meyvn's own decision would be. Sojef hadn't sounded happy; but as far as that goes, when had he sounded happy in all the times that Riko had heard that grating bureaucratic voice? Not once, yet. Of course, whatever these rather technologically undeveloped people could throw up into space couldn't be that much of a worry for a stout warship like the Qob anyway, so the Bajoran certainly wasn't worried, but merely curious. He kept thinking back to Meyvn and her dedication, and poise under extreme circumstances. Besides the deep caring she showed for her people, she was working her fingers to the bone, so to speak, to find a cure. Also, she had barely batted an eye at the first sight of the Klingons, and hardly seemed put out after having her molecules unexpectedly torn apart and reassembled on a shuttlecraft. Altogether she was a very admirable woman, who had the extreme misfortune of having TroNoQ drooling over her. Just then, a very naughty idea slipped into Riko's head, though a dangerous one, certainly. The proverbial light bulb over his head was a red alert beacon rather than the old-fashioned incandescent glass, but the Bajoran owed the Qel some payback and didn't heed the warning. Whatever pebbles the aliens were going to sling at the Qob forgotton, Riko returned to the lift and rode until it vomited him out into a dark corridor. He walked a short distance, then stopped outside a set of wide doors. Standing outside of his destination, he put his lopsided, shy smile on and walked into the MRF.

Amen!

Progress. Does not compute. Does not Compute. :: smoke ::

Ie, happy birthday!

The menopausal walrus... "Is it hot in here, or is just me?" ---

To me, "franchise" is a good word. It's like fast-food restaurants. It's the menu and style of the chain, but it's still owned by individual owners. You get good ones, and bad ones. Since Roddenberry's death, it's the same way. Whoever is the "franchise" owner at the time uses the basic Trek theme, but still has the leeway to choose location and personnel. :: shrug :: And, as much as we live and breathe Trek at times, it is a business, and their priority is to make money off of it, and if that means those of us that have been there through the years are tossed out the window, that's what'll happen.

To Shoot, or Not to Shoot The Question Answered LtJG Sendai Riko He was in for it, and he knew it, but he was far past the point of caring. After everything he'd been through, recently, he'd snapped. You can push a Bajoran a certain amount before they'll either break or explode; Riko had been close to breaking, but ended up exploding instead. Well, at least as far as the usually gentle-natured man could boom. As it was, he was so fed up with the Qel at this point, that he half wished his unapproved disruptor fire had vaporized the lust-blind idiot. Besides all of the trouble TroNoQ had caused on the planet, the cowardly doctor had tried laying the blame for the whole affair on Riko's shoulders. Thank the Prophets that Messner wasn't buying it, because he was in enough trouble as it is. At least Doctor Xiou will probably not back the Qel, judging by the annoyance painted on her face since the moment she had transported aboard the shuttle. A Bajoran can hope, anyway. As for K'Walus, Riko's feelings were torn. This was her op, and she may feel some heat for not controlling him; on the other hand, if she had taken charge, one way or the other, he wouldn't have been put in the position of making the decision on his own. Blast that Van Roy! Riko didn't care if Bch had been on the comm with Kahless, he certainly didn't expect to be put on hold when he had been discussing time-sensitive vital matters prior to the authorization request, let alone because the HoD had been talking to that ninny-brained, prattling, pompous paper-pusher. So, in the end, with the security forces closing in, and no time to wait, he had chosen to act instead of twiddle his thumbs, knowing full well at the time there'd be consequences, and accepting that. But he'd be damned if he'd not pay back the Qel for the trouble at some point in the future. He knew the Klingon saying: "Revenge is a dish best served cold." Riko swore that this entree will be frosty before hitting the table.

Happy Birthday!

It would be nice if we could adopt the ISO date standard, it would save that confusion. :: sigh ::

Either I missed that memo too, or someone's finger slipped, lol. After watching a few of the remastered TOS shows, I think the current overseers of the Trek franchise at least know how to make things look pretty, whether or not they have that connection with Roddenberry's spirit is hard to say. I'm not holding out much hope, but I'll probably still watch it. Though I think I'll wait until after New Year's Day ( Is that on the 2nd now? :lol: ) before heading into the theater.

Deflation LtJG Sendai Riko Riko decided, upon a sudden epiphany of thought, that this entire situation was completely pointless. They'd already discovered the cause of the virus, and gained reams of information on how it was created and propagated, which he had dutifully forwarded to the ship. If they were going to do anything about it, wandering around dealing with a power-hungry bureaucrat, worn out doctors being stymied by said bureaucrat, and cautious locals was definitely not the solution. Not that he thought that they should do anything about it, anyway. Not that he had any say in the matter, of course. Thoughts about the Prime Directive, Starfleet ideals, and not to mention common sense, all pointed to the figurative "Do Not Disturb" sign hanging on the doorknob of this planet. Since boarding the Qob, those things haven't come into play very often, a byproduct of working with those of the ridged foreheads, he supposed. So why, he wondered, would now of all times be the time to start? Riko figured the Prohpets would come down and take a stroll on Bajor before the Qob and its crazy Klingon crew would make any sense to him. Thankfully, with K'Walus and TroNoQ being on the team with him, he was by far the junior officer, and had already willingly thrust the reigns into K'Walus' hands. He'd now stand back and let things fall where they may, doing whatever menial tasks that he was ordered to do, and no more. Whatever spark, already fading, he had previously shown had been smothered the moment he had met the smarmy bureaucrat. He still wasn't over the ordeal of the alternate universe, and this was hardly his idea of recuperation. The locals be damned, he was tired, and just wanted to return to the Qob, find a hole to hide in, and gather himself.

CSI: KFC

It would only be worth it for a trade in, assuming that the newer model had a lower yelling per hour rating, or perhaps a better compliment to insult ratio.

Door-to-Door Salesman LtJG Sendai Riko From his initial glance of this settlement, he had a feeling that the disease had, as yet, not hit here, as children were playing in the streets and people were walking and talking with each other. There was a tension though, as if this was an island under siege where no shots had been fired yet, but everyone knew the artillery was armed and pointed this way. After the tragic sights from the last settlement, and the despair of Korel and his isolated companions, it was still a very welcome sight. He was worried, though, about KWalus and the kind or reaction she'd bring. Korel had nearly jumped out of his shoes at the first sight of her, and he didn't think the general citizenry of this area would be any more comfortable. When she volunteered to stay out of sight before he knocked on the door to the simple frame house, he was grateful. The person that answered the door after his brisk knock, whether male or female the Bajoran officer couldn't quite tell as this species' external gender markings were practically non-existent, looked healthy. Also, thankfully, not frightened to death at the sight of him, though very cautious. He had put on his friendliest face: a lopsided smile with only a bare glimpse of teeth, warm wide-open eyes and the slightest tilt of the head. He had found it a very disarming look, though he knew if he tried it on his Klingon colleagues, he'd probably need an analgesic and some cosmetic surgery to be able to repeat it later. The conversation had been going well until she mentioned that a few people around had "flu-like" symptoms. That's when KWalus had popped around the corner and charged to the doorway. If Riko had been the fierce sort, he would have growled at her when she had come into view, startling the native. Being an alien himself, from the native's point of view, made it difficult enough to try to keep them at ease; add in a scowling Klingon, and well... conversation had a tendency to dry up faster than a teardrop on Vulcan. Out of anyone on the ship whom he would prefer to do a delicate assignment like this with, KWalus was definitely the last choice. Not that he really felt like there were many good choices, either. As it was, however, Riko could only sigh and then do his best to keep the native from slamming the door in his face before pointing them in the direction of the physician cousin. Putting his ultra-friendly face back on after adding a bit of sympathy to the shocked, gasping native, he turned back to him/her, as if to say with his body language: "the big scary Klingon lady to my left is nothing to worry about."

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet... but it still might prefer to be called a rose Ens Mreh K'hal M.D. Dr. K'hal finished up inputting the newest notes and information into the patient files and then slipped into the head. As he was in there, his Caitian ears picked up voices, and he discerned Alex and a female voice that he had yet to hear. Listening for a moment, he heard enough to know that he wasn't needed out there, so he didn't hurry himself. By the time he had finished and re-entered sickbay, they had left. He had missed out on an opportunity to meet a new colleague, but he knew that, sooner or later, it would happen. Dr. K'hal only hoped he had an opportunity to introduce himself before they were both covered in other people's blood. Dr. Pilot had unceremoniously left a while earlier, and had yet to return, and the golden Caitian's ears flattened and his tail whipped around again thinking about him. First, the CMO had showed the audacity to call him Mreh, which he greatly resented, since they did not know each other well enough for something he considered to be a privilege of friendship. Add in the slight of having his hard-earned medical degree completely ignored, and Dr. K'hal was quite annoyed. He was a doctor, and an ensign in Starfleet; both titles had been earned through much suffering and toil, and politeness demanded the use of one or the other, not to mention protocol. Either would suffice, though he preferred to be addressed as "Doctor" even by his colleagues. If, after sufficient time, a friendship formed, then and only then would he want to be called by his given name, and only off-duty at that. So, in a rare foul mood, he returned to the console he had been working at and gathered up the PADD's which he had reset to their ready state for future use. With clockwork clicks, he slapped them neatly onto the shelf and then smartly slid shut the opaque door. He slipped into the shared AMO office and sent out a few messages to some of the crewmen who had been injured during the attack. Informing of them of the time and date of their follow ups, as well as a few extra instructions on how best to shorten their off-duty recovery time, Dr. K'hal also included a follow up for Captain Corizon. Using his tact for the day, though, he had requested and not demanded the follow up, and had been sure to put in "at your convenience." If the Dameon CO was like the rest of the CO's in the fleet, he'd probably completely ignore the request, so Dr. K'hal wasn't really expecting much. Since he had been the one to treat the Captain, it was his obligation to check-up, however. Though he imagined the CMO was probably the Captain's primary physician. If so, he could see Dr. Pilot if he deigned to come down to sickbay, and it certainly wouldn't hurt Dr. K'hal's feelings in the slightest. So long as he didn't call him "Mreh" on the way by.

I will admit Kira had a tendency to vacillate wildly in her emotions, depending on the situation, though with her history, I think that can be forgiven. As for other Bajorans, few were really explored in depth, but Kai Opaka and Vedek Bareil were pretty solid, non-whiny characters, and of course as bad as Winn was, she had layers. I think the Bajorans were a good species for DS9, because they had issues (a lot, admittedly), and had a complex social structure and history which were explored pretty well on the show. Many of the other species in the Trek universe had a very narrowly defined attitude and for the most part, you knew what you were going to get as soon as you saw one. With the Bajorans, you didn't know if you were getting a saint or a devil, a lover or a fighter. They were a pretty good analogue for modern humanity.

;)

When do the Manticore vs. Arcadia war games air, and what channel is it on? ;)

Happy Birthday! :: rolls out a big cake :: Could it be t'Rexan inside? Only one way to find out... ;) Have a good one!

No, but I did have pizza very soon before going to bed. My subconscious and I... well, if it were possible, I would have had a very stern, long talk with it, but being the subconscious makes that awfully difficult. And I really should have said I had a "nightmare" about said disturbing imagery. It's not the only Trek dream I've had, but even the ones with rampaging Borg weren't that bad. Anyone else dream/nightmare Trek?

I had a dream once where Wesley Crusher was in a frilly dress and singing "On the Good Starship Lollipop." I can only conclude this was a hazing ceremony for Nova Squadron.

Ut oh, my Spidey Sense detects the possibility of a cola war... Duck and cover everyone! ;)

Sound of Music. Blech!