Caelan Fletcher

From Fletcher With Love A Log by Lt. Cmdr. Caelan Fletcher Stardate 10.10.08 It was raining again for the third time this week. Risami was pissed. The weather was really only part of the problem. She had come to terms with the fact that her garden of snapdragons would never grow beyond a few streaks of wilted, embarrassed color. Better Homes, Gardens, and Hydroponics Bays would not be paying her rooftop raised beds a visit anytime soon. The other, far larger contributor to her foul mood was seated neatly on her glass top desk. A single PADD was carefully centered between the only other items on her desk: a gold-plated nametag that brightly displayed her name and title - 'Cmdr. Risami Ogura, Chief of Defensive Technology R&D', and a faded family photograph depicting Ogura with a woman who bore a striking resemblance to her, along with her two bright-eyed, smiling nieces. Like her desk, Risami's office at the headquarters for the Starfleet Corps of Engineers was mostly devoid of personality. They shale-grey color of the room was contrasted by a few standard Starfleet spacescapes that plastered the walls of the guest quarters and conference rooms. A neglected ficus stood alone in the corner closest to the window, stretching its leaves longingly out toward the rain. Turning away from the grey skies outside, Ogura glanced once again to the solitary PADD. She'd committed it to memory by now, but she picked it up once more, exhaling slowly. ___________________________________ -Confidential- -Encrypted- Security Status.....................Accepted Lt. Cmdr. Caelan Shaw Fletcher Assistant. Engineer - Sky Harbor Aegis - Small Vessel Specialist U.S.S. Missouri Stardate 10.10.08 Cmdr. Risami Ogura Chief of Defensive Technology Research and Development Starfleet Corps of Engineers Cochrane Facility, San Francisco, California, Earth Re: TALIS Project - Status Report 10.10.08 Commander Ogura, As you are well aware, Aegis is currently in the process of being repaired. Please see below for the latest project summary: - Aegis is currently uninhabitable. ETA for repairs is uncertain, but the TALIS lab will be considered low priority. - All software and research documentation has been recovered and transferred securely to my quarters on the U.S.S. Missouri. - Type I Ares and Hephaestus Class drones have been transferred to U.S.S. Missouri. This part of the project has been declassified, and as such, transferring the drones to meet the August 15th launch date was considered to be an acceptable risk. - Type II Hardware is still on board Aegis. There is no reason to suspect a security breach has occurred. The following action items are currently open: - Meet August 15th deadline of production and initial testing of Type I drones. - Version 0.4 of GNOSIS will continue development, but has been delayed. Human testing has also been postponed until further notice. My duties on Aegis will take precedence until the station is back on its feet. Hope you understand... Caelan -End Transmission- __________________________________________________ More delays. More setbacks. More chances of a security catastrophe. TALIS had become one set of frustrations after another. This is unacceptable. She placed her hand on the communication panel built into her desk. 'Marc...a minute please...' It took a few moments, but shortly after a young ensign cautiously entered the office. Though naturally a bit nervous, Ensign Marc Garrett had been conditioned to fear these minute-meetings, which typically involved him being on the receiving end of a rant from the Commander. Obeying the symmetry of the room and its master, Marc centered himself in front of the Commander's desk, attempting to offer a genuine smile. 'M-ma'am.' Risami ignored his expression. 'Get Lt. Commander Fletcher on the comm. Try Commander Chirakis if he won't pick up.' She smiled thinly, 'I'd like to arrange a talk.' The young engineer swallowed. He didn't envy them. Fletcher and Chirakis may be closer in rank to Commander Ogura, but he'd seen her go off on Captains before, and there was that time she made Admiral Hawkins cry.... 'Yes ma'am. I'll set up a conference call.' He ducked out of the office, glad that the meeting had in fact only lasted a minute. Ogura leaned back in her chair. Time to take control of the situation...

A Watched Tetrahertz Wave Never Stabilizes A Log by Sr. Lt. Caelan Fletcher Stardate 10.07.28 'Engineering. Status of the hull.' The Commander's voice called over the comm system, barely audible over the sounds of a dozen engineers having mild panic attacks. Between maintaining the structural integrity fields to keep the station intact, and maintaining the transporters to get the non-essential (lucky) crewmen on to escape vessels, there was little time to maintain anything else, including one's own sanity. Like the eleven others in main engineering, Fletcher tried to ignore all of the voices, internal and external, that kept him from the task at hand. Someone else could answer the bridge. 'Report!' Apparently, someone else couldn't. Fletcher groaned, tapping his badge since no one else seemed inclined to do so. 'It sucks...' he reported accurately, but dryly. Caelan didn't bother with the niceties when there wasn't a mob of nom-noming aliens chewing at the infrastructure - why would he bother now? 'Can I push the button now?' 'Do it. NOW!' '...About freakin' time.' And with a simple press, the wave generator was activated. 'Thirty seconds until wave formation.' Hopefully. 'Twenty seconds.' The button, officially named 'Top Button', was engineering's current effort to curb the damage done by Aegis' new friends. By using the structural integrity fields as the medium for a tetrahertz wave generator, engineering hoped to change the wave patterns the ship naturally gave off. The aliens seemed to be attracted to the metals in the station's hull, but were avoiding glass like it was a Nickelback concert. Change the metallic waves the ship produces to looks more like silica wave patterns, and you've salted the proverbial beer. 'Ten...' It was far from fullproof, however. The suckers might not even pay attention to tetrahertz waves. Humans certainly didn't, unless they were of the pale-as-sin engineering variety. For all Caelan and the other engineers knew, they might be trying to hide the station with a saran wrap mask. It also didn't change the fact that the station was truly made out of metal. They could make the hull smell like glass, chicken, or even Fletcher's gym locker (a potentially more effective solution), but they couldn't stop it from tasting like Grade A Angus Iron. And considering that the wave generator might blow the structural integrity fields out on any deck of the station for as long as its producing waves, the Lieutenant couldn't help but hope that the scientists had come up with a better plan. 'Three...' Hopefully the folks in Pylon B have been evacuated. 'Two...' If not, they might be in for a hull of a bad time. 'One...' Sometimes life's a breach.

So, now that the free trial gives you unlimited play time... Would there be any interest in roleplaying on the space station they let you visit? I have zero interest in purchasing this game, but I've been roleplaying in MMOs since I was 12 or so, and I think it can be a lot of fun. Again, I don't have any interest in buying the game (at least, as it is right now), but I'd definitely be down for roleplaying as the crew aboard that station, and letting the fun commence. Thoughts?

You Have One New Message A Log by Lt. Caelan Fletcher Stardate 1004.12 _____________________________________________________________________________ ‘Ra-ra-ah-ah-ah-ahhh! Roma-roma-mama! Ga-ga-ooh-la-la! Want yo…’ A hand, blind but true in aim, swiped the desk chromometer off the end table, silencing the music before the chorus could be reached. 5:00 AM had arrived half an hour too early by Caelan’s estimates, judging from the amount of cement that fixed his eyelids shut. The thin Starfleet-issue sheets entangled around the Lieutenant had provided neither warmth nor comfort during the restless night, though the present need for more sleep made him rather indifferent to the issue. Nuzzling his head in between the two faux-feather pillows, Fletcher tried to glean a few more minutes of sleep. Only a moment had passed before a monophonic chime heralded the voice of futility, ‘Incoming message for Lieutenant Caelan Fletcher.’ No trace of apology could be heard in the computer’s rude awakening, and the blinking light from the bedroom computer terminal permeated through Fletcher’s pillow and eyelids with the strength of gamma rays. Hoarsely muttering a few choice words, the sleeper directed his mutterings to a more practical effort, ‘Computer…use out-of-office message “Risami”.’ With a beep-boop, the computer acknowledged the request, and a recording of a sultry female soon kicked on, ‘Hello. You’ve reached the personal message box of Ensign Melissa Jacobson. I’m sorry I missed your call, but if you leave your name, rank, and the subspace routing number I can use to reach you, I’ll return your message as soon as possible.’ Click. ‘I don’t appreciate games, Fletcher. Your sense of humor will be the end of you.’ Something about that second statement sounded far too honest. Though the speaker could not be seen, the voice provided sufficient illustration for whom it belonged. A tight-lipped woman, expression pursed with barely-controlled anger was on the other end of the line. It made Caelan cringe. ‘Do you think avoiding my calls will resolve this? Think again.’ ‘Sh…’ The pillow muffled the Lieutenant’s words. All hope for sleep was gone. He struggled to stir his limbs from their sleep atrophy and blinked the slumber out of his eyes before allowing his bare feet to graze the carpet. It was a short walk to the sonic shower, but the female voice escorted him there. Whoever had thought it’d be convenient to have an integrated communications unit in the bathroom ought to have been jettisoned. ‘You owe me an answer. Several, actually.’ The hum of the shower did little to drown out the woman’s voice, and Fletcher couldn’t help but reflect on the awkwardness of the one-sided conversation, and that she was chiding him while he was washing his…’I expect a returned call once you step out of the shower.’ Click. Caelan choked, ceasing his scrubbing immediately. ‘Friggin’ hell, does she have cameras installed?’ His eyes scanned the small confines of the shower unit, looking for any signs of a surveillance probe. Finding nothing, he resumed his business – if she was watching, it was too late to be shy now. After spending far more time than necessary tugging on his uniform, Fletcher shot a look in the direction of the console. She was right - avoiding the calls wouldn’t stop them…perhaps for a slightly more reasonable person, but not Risami Ogura. Sucking in a deep breath, the Lieutenant stepped toward the console, trying to ignore the stone forming in his stomach. ‘Risami...’ Fletcher offered a saccharine grin as the woman’s face suddenly appeared on his screen, ‘Ensign Jacobson told me about a little mixup…I’ll have to check our communication relays when I get back to my station…’ Each word caused those lips to tighten ever more slightly. God help me.

The Enemy of My Enemy is Still My Enemy A Joint Log by Midshipman Duroz and Lt. Caelan Fletcher - Also thanks to Scott Coleridge for a consult <3 Shuffling down the corridor with his trademark swagger™, Fletcher made his way to the shuttlebay. He hadn't bothered to change out of his singed uniform, which sported a series of burn marks on the right sleeve. Instead, he'd carry his battle wound with the dignity of a warrior, albeit, a rather cocky one. It was a mindset his coworker ought to understand, being a Klingon and all, though the chances of Caelan seeing to eye to eye on any other subject with Midshipman Duroz was rather unlikely given their previous discussions, and the obvious height difference between the two engineers. Whether they agreed or not, the investigation of the alien craft had to continue - further stalling at this point would be treasonous, if hilarious. Spotting the Klingon on the bay floor making googly-eyes with the alien craft, Fletcher took a stand nearby, folding his arms as he approached his colleague. ‘So…when are two going to get married?’ Duroz sighed hard and tried to ignore the lieutenant's brash introduction. Normally he would have bitten his tongue to keep from lashing a quick remark back at his superior, but right now the alien vessel was his only concern. The 'Athra' were a warrior race, and their technology reflected that trait. That was something the Klingon admired about them. Finally he brought his attention toward the Lieutenant. "Sir, if we are to beat these 'Athra' we still have much to learn of their tactics and their technology. They are formidable to say the least. And they are not our only enemy now, 'Time' has become our adversary as well." Eying the ship irreligiously with a moment's glance, Caelan instead kept his eyes mostly on Duroz. He grunted noncommittally to the Klingon's statement, conceding the point though he didn't necessarily share it. ‘Well, like I told Scott. We're going to need a bigger gun.’ "For once Lieutenant... I agree with you. However, refitting the weapons we already have should be our first priority." Duroz sighed heavily, he knew that even with the vast array of weaponry the Station had, it would be a shot in the dark vacuum of space who would be the victor in the coming battle. He could only hope that improving the current systems would give them a tactical edge of unpredictability the 'Athra' had not yet seen. The alien ship that lay before them was the true key, whatever answers they sought, were there. Joining his hands, Fletcher cracked his knuckles in a get-down-to-business fashion. ‘Let's review what we already know then. These 'Ath-rac' folks keep all their shield power up front, since they're not expecting to leave anything behind that can nab'em in their proverbial asses.’ He cocked his head to the left, taking a closer look at the rear of the vessel, ‘If I had to guess, they don't fortify the hull so much in the rear either...trying to cut down on ship mass to keep the things speedy.’ No one likes to draw attention to their hind-quarters. "That would be a fair assumption... I have reviewed the sensor logs from the Station's previous encounter with the enemy, judging from their combat maneuvers I have surmised that the 'Athra' use attack patterns that leave their enemy with little chance to get a shot off to their less shielded sections. Their strategy is simple, overwhelm the enemy and let them see only the fire from your weapons. As this Station is... 'stationary'... Our chances of a clean shot begin to fall from slim... to none." ‘Mmhmm...’ Fletcher couldn't help but admire it too. It reminded him of his strategy with the ladies. Come out guns blazing and hope for the best - and considering how beefed up these ships were, they, like Caelan, probably stayed pretty optimistic. ‘So how do we hit'em in the rear?’ "That is the question isn't it sir... How to get them to turn their backs to us." Duroz paused, his eyes sharpened like the blade of a Mek'leth as a sense of victory suddenly crept over him. "If we can use the defense grid surrounding the asteroid belt we could do just that. Focusing the attacks of the weapon's arrays on the lead squadrons would force them to break their lines. The grid was not active when they last attacked, odds are they have not planned for it. They would have no choice but to return fire at which point their ability to adapt will be known. In their moment of confusion we would get the opportunity we seek." It was to be a glorious battle, and Duroz would be right there to see it unfold. For a Klingon there was no greater honor. Twisting until his neck let out a satisfying crack, Caelan mulled the idea over, 'Probably, if we program the platforms to act that way, they'll be able to coordinate a plan like that.' It was a good plan... a solid plan. But would they take the bait? "Yes, but the 'Athra' have already proven their prowess in battle, and if what Dr. Belar says is true... who's to know the extent of their telepathic abilities. They could see our plan coming." Duroz fell silent for a moment in recognition of his own words. Then he spoke once more. "We will need a second plan, Sir." Shrugging, Fletcher offered, 'We‘ve already got fighter pilots. Nothing we engineer is going to be more maneuverable than those people. We tell those kids what to aim for, and they’ll bring’em down. 'Arth-rocks' won't stand a chance.’ The Klingon let a hint of pride show on his face. The taste of victory was yet again on his lips so close he could almost bite at its heart. He knew now why the Lieutenant was given his post on Aegis. He was not quite as 'useless' as Duroz had thought. "Indeed Lieutenant... let us hope your confidence in our pilots is not misplaced." ‘Talk to Scott about the defense platforms – they’re his babies. And if you’ve still got ants in your pants, you can talk to the fighter pilots about tightening up their phaser arrays – increase the penetration depth of their weapons in case they do gotta take’em head on.’ Yawn. ‘Sound like a plan?’ Duroz straitened and turned to the Lieutenant. "Yes sir..." he said with a nod. ‘Nifty. S’my shift soon in engineering, so I oughta split. But first…’ The Lieutenant tapped his burned arm lightly, ‘I’ve got to milk this thing before it completely heals over. I’m sure there’s someone young and sweet who’d be willing to show me her…’ Caelan waggled his eyebrows, ‘…sympathy.’ Duroz said nothing, he knew his words would be of little consequence. He merely snarled slightly at the Lieutenant's complete disregard of Klingon Pride. Fletcher smirked, nodding once to the midshipman before limping out of the shuttlebay.

ECE 432: Intro to Signal Processing A log by Lt. Caelan Fletcher A few notes: 1) If anyone does this for a living, sorry for butchering your science! This problem happened to me during a class project, but I embellished more than a little bit to make it fit the sim. 2) The grid is supposed to be tinier than it looks...and art isn't my strong suit. _______________________________________________________ ‘Gather round, kiddoes…’Fletcher had assembled the think tank in the Engineering conference room. Not to think – that part was already done. It was hard to call it a moment of genius, as Caelan rarely had anything that could be described as an inspired thought, but nonetheless, he had discovered the source of their computer woes – and class was about to start. ‘This…’ He displayed an image of the Earth on the conference room viewer. It was back to basics, it seems. ‘…Is a planet.’ A few groans emerged from the crowd of densely packed engineers. A few ‘we know’s and ‘get on with it’s along with a few more colorful phrases could be picked out, but Fletcher simply plastered a grin on his face, enjoying torturing his colleagues with some remedial training, ‘S’pretty damn obvious what it is. Anyone could tell. Right?’ Nods of varying levels of enthusiasm were returned. ‘…This…is how the computer processes the image.’ Over top the original image, a grid was laid down. Even 24th century hadn’t managed to do away with the pixel in its entirety. ‘All o’yeh know that the computer splits the image up into tiny bits, or at least you did back in Signal Processing during your cadet years.’ Dr. Uzuki had left a rather…vivid impression on Fletcher (when he chose to attend the class)…and he expected most of the other engineers would feel similarly. Judging from the mixed expressions of discomfort and outright fear (as one might who still suspects a pop quiz on Fourier Transforms could show up at any moment), he was correct. ‘But space has got a lot of stuff in it…useless stuff…’ ‘Like this meeting?’ Lieutenant Alenko chimed in, crossing his arms in a show of contempt. ‘No…’ Fletcher kept his tone cool, making a mental note to buy Mrs. Alenko a rather strong drink the next time he ‘bumped’ into her, ‘…like stars, hundreds of thousands of light years away. Orbiting trash, asteroid fragments, comet dust…stuff you find all over.’ ‘That’s why we filter our sensor scans…otherwise we’d blow the ship’s memory space in a month of sensor sweeps. Do any of you remember how we do that?’ Most of the engineers made a convincing impression of petrified wood, but one eager beaver in the room waved his arm to let everyone in the quadrant know that he knew the answer. ‘We average the signal! Organize the surrounding pixels, and take the median! Right?!’ Fletcher nodded toward the ensign, smirking at his almost Scott-like enthusiasm, ‘Mmhmm…you take the median. Pick a pixel. Look at the eight other squares around it, and average the color. It’s why we can make sense of the sensor sweeps…sharpens the image. And once there’s enough contrast…the computer can recognize what it sees.’ ‘But what happens if you look at more than just those eight squares? What if you look at…twenty-four? Forty-eight? Eighty? Four hundred forty? Two thousand six hundred?’ Fletcher pointed to the image once more. Most of the pixels were black, and only a small fraction had the azure tones of the Earth’s surface. ‘What’ll happen if you take the average of that?’ Caelan wasted no time waiting for an answer, placing the next image up on the viewer. The empty grid that appeared was met with several confused looks, darting between the viewer image and Caelan for an explanation, ‘Space is pretty empty. If you have a hundred black pixels for every blue one, and you take the average…you’ll get a grid of all black. This is the same image – it’s just after the computer filtered it. This is how the defense grid’s computer would see the planet Earth, as of twenty minutes ago.’ Another ensign, brow furrowed, raised the question all of the engineers shared, ‘But it recognized enemies before…why not now?’ Caelan grinned, reveling as he could finally share his moment of revelation, ‘Because one of your morons, or someone upstairs, eff’ed up our filter function.’ Shooting a look toward each engineer in the room, Fletcher attempted to pinpoint a culprit…not that he truly suspected any of them. Afterall, it was primarily he and Scott that had worked on the grid – particularly on the programming. None the less, it was amusing to watch them squirm. ‘It’s a low security point in the code – no real log of who changes it. Modify by the filter factor by a couple powers of ten, and you can blind the computer, more or less. And we’ll be none the wiser – since we usually see the unfiltered images on the viewscreens. The filtering is just so the computer can save space, and so it can tell the difference between a horse’s ass and Lieutenant Alenko…small difference though that may be…’ Alenko was just about to issue a cry of protest, though Fletcher continued on, cutting him off, ‘I returned the filter factor back to its normal level – the grid can see things like normal again. Chances are the ship we missed was electromagnetically silent…so we had no way to catch it.’ ‘If anyone wants to claim it…accident or not…let me know. I haven’t told Jorahl yet, but that’s going to change in about five minutes unless someone owns up.’ Silence. ‘No one? Hrm…figured as much. Very well – class dismissed!’ Fletcher watched the engineers shuffle out of the room, some looking more befuddled than others. They weren’t lying. This wasn’t a mistake they’d have made…and chances are, it wasn’t a mistake anyone made. He had no interest in getting caught up in the hoopla of the mutiny taking place on board, but the chances of this being unrelated were slim at best. It wasn’t for him to decide, fortunately – Jorahl would be making the call on that. Tap-tap. ‘Caelan to Jorahl – let’s chat…’

Isabeau reached the holodeck before Caelan did and set her pack and a couple of helmets on the deck to the side of the doors. Tapping the control pad, she accessed a caving program and set the difficulty level before turning around to wait, letting the wall take her weight as she leaned against it. She nodded as a couple of crew went by. She was wearing coveralls over a couple of shirts a pair of sturdy boots. Compared to what you could sometimes see while people waited to use a holodeck--it was nothing. Pulling her sleeve back, she checked her tank watch and guessed she'd see Caelan coming around the curve in the corridor at any moment. He'd surprised her by asking her if she'd like to go out and she kind of thought she'd surprised him by saying yes. She hadn't had the chance to meet too many of the crew since she'd come aboard and he'd mentioned rock climbing. He wasn't afraid to get dirty so maybe he'd enjoy caving, too. Running a minute or so behind, Caelan rounded the corridor toward the holodeck doors. With only fifteen minutes between his last duty shift and the caving excursion, he'd only had enough time to change into the clothes Delevan had suggested. Considering where they were going, a sonic shower would have only gone to waste, and Fletcher always tended to look a little scruffy anyhow. It was charming...or at least that's what /he/ thought. Spotting Isabeau waiting outside, he approached with that same cheesy, boyish grin, "Hey." Simplicity was key. Watching him approach, she noted the coveralls and boots and returned what she was starting to believe was a trademark grin with a smile of approval. "Hey, yourself." Reaching down she picked up the helmets and handed him one. "Ready to go below?" Willing himself to avoid making the (in his mind) obvious suggestive joke, Caelan cleared his throat and nodded a slight. He'd save his sense of humor for the cave - a risky move, considering there'd be no one around to serve witness if one of his poorly planned puns ended up earning him a blackened eye. Stepping forward just enough to trigger the pressure sensor to open the holodeck doors, he gestured inside, "After you..." Mercifully unaware of Caelan's thoughts, Isabeau activated her headlamp and walked forward into the coolly humid and gigantic cave anteroom, an excellently programmed facsimile of the subterranean caves of Aldebaran III. The light from her lamp sparkled off the crystals embedded in the stone walls and flashed as she turned her head to see what Caelan thought of it as the doors closed behind him. The ceiling gave the impression of being more than sixty feet over their heads while all around them, stalactites and stalagmites threw grotesque shadows. Following suit, Caelan too turned on his lamp. He kept behind Isabeau as they entered, taking a moment to enjoy the view. It really was quite a sight... As the sparkle of refracted light through the crystals caught his eye, he shifted his gaze up to look around the holographic cave. Though the scene was quite different from one of his climbs, the adventurous endorphins were already starting to pump in his blood. Noticing Delevan's glance for the first time, he nodded to her, "Nifty cave you've got here." "It's a gorgeous place and I hope someday to actually experience them for real." Isabeau smiled at the real appreciation she heard in Caelan's voice. "I know you suggested rock climbing, and I enjoy it--it's a better work out, in fact, but I so rarely meet anyone who might even want to try caving that I had to ask." Fletcher shrugged a slight, "I've been wanting to try it anyway, and besides..." he smirked, "Gives me an excuse to ask you out again, eh?" "Well, yes, I guess, it does, Caelan..." They had been walking across the huge anteroom, carefully avoiding the natural obstructions formed by thousands of years of mineral deposits and now Isabeau moved ahead, her voice floating back to Caelan with a cheerful lilt. "...if you survive today." Caelan's smirk wavered a teensy bit, though the darkness of the cave was kind enough to shield his momentary lack of confidence from sight. These caves were hologenerated, and he hadn't begun his stand-up routine yet - there was no reason to be afraid. "I'll manage...and if I don't, well...at least the closest doctor isn't too far off." He couldn't see it but she grinned. He had a rather irrepressible quality about him that was fun. "I'm off duty, but the safeties guarantee you can't get much more than a sprain or the odd broken bone or two," she explained as he come up beside her and she held her arm out at waist length to check his momentum. They were standing on a precipice overlooking a canyon and though they couldn't see it, the sound of rushing water could barely be heard. "Three hundred feet down. We'll turn here and follow this edge and it will take us lower until we reach a clear area where we can do a vertical descent." Nodding, Fletcher sent the beam of light shining from his helmet bobbing up and down off the distant opposing rock face. He spent a few second staring over the edge before turning to follow at Delevan's side once again, reminding himself to pay another visit for a climb some time. Maybe he could slip off work early tomorrow... She picked her way carefully along the precarious path, dipping low to avoid the overhanging rock. Caelan was right beside her and she watched their twin beams of light illuminate the way ahead, briefly showing the patches of odd algae that grew where no sunlight had ever reached. One of the reasons she wanted to get to these caves in person one day was because she'd heard that the algae had unusual properties and she'd love the chance to study it. Listening to Caelan's sure footsteps behind her reminded her that he could use some studying too. "Caelan, where are you from?" And now the small talk begins. He smirked a slight, "Any idea where Lexington, Kentucky is?" "I guess it's somewhere on the North American continent?" She'd heard of Kentucky. The grass wasn't really blue. When she'd been little she'd heard of the 'blue grass' and had been very excited until her mother had informed her that it was just a nickname because the buds of the grass had a bluish tint in the spring. She remembered what pleasure she'd taken in seeing grass from the planet Izar. It was gorgeous cobalt. "Yup," he continued, "I lived 'bout two hundred kilometers or so east of there in this town called Rush. Just a blip between two places." No one'd ever heard of it before, so it came as no surprise that 'North America' had been her best guess. "You?" "I was raised in the Amazon River Basin--in Peru." Isabeau paused, and gently grabbed his arm, tugging him to a stop, while she paused to get her bearings. The path had been widening and now offered two ways to go. She gave Caelan a speculative look and the decision was easy. He was in too good a shape to take the easy way down. "Let's go this way," she said indicating the left branch. Pulling her pack off her shoulder, she secured it to her waist belt with a leash, prepared to hold it by the top grip until they had to hit their knees and crawl. "It'll be more fun." Caelan followed her lead, attaching his gear to his waist. "Peru, huh?" It was a question phrased with no answer. He eyed the alternative route, noting its relatively simplicity compared to the one they were about to take. Clearly she thought he was capable of a bit of a challenge...or she was trying to kill him. Either way, it was an opportunity to show off - if he broke his skull open, they'd be spending more time together anyway, even if if it was in sickbay. "What made you sign on with Starfleet, then?" She paused for a second, wondering how best to answer that. It was interesting how you weren't really asked it directly all that often. People just assumed you had a burning desire for adventure or to serve a noble purpose. She had leanings towards both but had hatched the idea of joining right after she'd discovered that Starfleet Intelligence had been responsible for her brother's death. Of course, she'd been 17. Everything seemed so black and white at that age and what she thought she was going to do to avenge him, she still didn't know. Years of college and med school had broadened her horizons and she had come to believe that only Starfleet offered her the opportunities to follow twin disciplines-medicine and botany. She served her mother's memory and worked to create her own future. She still believed SFI was responsible for William's death but she didn't look for Justice. She hoped that Justice would serve itself. She gave Caelan a sideways look, careful not to hit him directly in the eyes with her lamp as she glanced up. "It seemed to offer the greatest variety of challenge, Caelan. How about you? Rush, Kentucky--what made you want to leave?" The question made him laugh - a quick, one-breath exhalation of air of the 'Ha!' variety. "What didn't?" Of course, there was nothing wrong with home, it'd been everything he needed it to be, but it certainly wasn't where he had intended to end up. "It's not exactly bustling with opportunity back there. Figured I could do something exciting in the fleet...oh, and I so could meet girls." He grinned as he added the afterthought. Honesty had to count for something, right? His reaction said it all, and Isabeau started laughing, and knocked her head against the overhang because she'd stopped paying attention. Oh well, that's why the helmet was there, she thought as she stooped a little lower and turned her head to answer. He was taller but they were booth bent over sand so were face to face. "You're on Aegis so I guess the excitement part speaks for itself. Why'd you decide on a starbase and not a starship?" So she did have a sense of humor. He put that thought aside for later. "I don't remember making a decision." He shrugged, "But it's not been so bad. Klaxons go off enough for my taste, at least." "Enough for your taste? You must get bored easily." Klaxons on Aegis seemed to go off every fifteen minutes. Since Drankum had come aboard, it seemed like they went off just for the heck of it, though she could certainly understand the need for drills. Isabeau yanked her pack up and open, pulling out a set of kneepads and handing them to Caelan. "Here, we're going to have to crawl the last few hundred yards, but the crystal formations on the other side are worth it, I promise!" She took out another set and wrapped them around her knees and snugged them. Fitting his own kneepads on, Caelan prepared for the upcoming crawl, wondering why these pads weren't standard issue for long crawls in the Jefferies tube. The principle seemed to be the same. He'd have to ask Chief Jorahl to requisition a few pairs for the engineers. "A promise, hm? I'll hold you to it." Isabeau turned and it was her turn to smirk at him. "You can. It's why I make so few of them." Looking forward, she let out the leash on the pack so it wouldn't catch at her waist and dropped into a squat, giving Caelan a look over her shoulder. "If you get at all claustrophobic, please don't hesitate to tell me. It's close in this tunnel, ok?" "I'll manage," he replied, keeping confidence in his voice. No one particularly liked tight spaces...well, except for Rachel of course. She seemed to. But that was the exception, not the rule. Dropping down, he prepared himself to follow behind, adjusting his gear in a similar fashion to his guide. Crawling through the tunnel was hard work. She hadn't been lying when she'd told Caelan that rock climbing was a better workout but this part of caving was the exception to that. Conversation was at a minimum and it was with real breathlessness from exertion and not the view that she crawled out the other end and got to her feet, waiting for him to emerge, looking forward to his reaction. The crystals were gigantic and some of them were ten to fifteen feet high and wide and they peppered the sides of the cave and the cave floor like giant snowflakes, their colors predominantly lavender hues but the odd pale lemon and brilliant white refracted back their lights as well. "So...did I lie?" Huffing a bit on his way out, tired himself from the crawl, Caelan glanced around the room. She hadn't been lying, and his eyes revealed as much, widening to take in the fullness of the colorful crystal formations. The vistas while climbing were typically pretty grand, but this sight was pretty incomparable. He offered Isabeau a grin and sideways glance, "You picked a hell of a cave." "No one can fault your taste, Lieutenant," she said with a smile as she bowed gracefully from the waist in acknowledgement, the gesture a little grandiose considering the dirty coveralls and heavy boots. She stepped forward, the light bouncing and sparking off the crystals as far as her eyes could see. But it was just an illusion. Somewhere, way off on Aldebaran III these caves existed and she hoped they still remained pristine but what she hungered for were the caves no one else had yet stepped foot in. She wanted to be the first set of eyes to see, she wanted to take the risks that holodeck safeties precluded and she said as much to Caelan, standing just behind her, her voice quiet, really just a whisper. "So why haven't you?" He shrugged, asking the seemingly simple question. "Well, I have, actually," she said, turning and smiling, feeling a little silly, but this part of the simulation never failed to make her wax reflective. "I just never get my fill. The programs are excellent tools for training and practice. I just miss the real thing, the quality of the unknown. Don't you?" He returned with a nod. Climbing, after all, was no different. Much better to be there in person than settle for a simulation - though in this case...it was a pretty impressive simulation. Shifting about in a full circle slowly over the course of a minute to get in the whole view, he turned back to look at Delevan, "So...now what?" * * * They 'd made their way back to the anteroom where they'd started and he'd handled the grueling program with ease. If he decided he ever wanted to come back with her they could bump up the difficulty, which had been on intermediate to begin with. "Computer, end program." Pulling her helmet off, she deactivated the headlamp and checked her watch and then looked at him with a smile. "Less than three hours. That's pretty impressive for a novice, Caelan." Caelan pulled off his own helmet, stuffing it underneath his arm with the lights off. He gave his hair a light shake, which seemed to be enough to return it to its usual, ruffled shape. Dirt flecked his cheeks, but he didn't seem to take notice. He was used to be in this sort of state. Grinning over to Isabeau, he forced his head back down to its normal proportions, taking the complement with a bit more humility than he might normally, "Thanks! Fun trip." "It was," she agreed wholeheartedly. "Thanks for giving it a try. I really enjoyed the company." "Then you'll let me pick us some place to go climbing, right?" His tone was nonchalant as he asked, casual in nature. "It would be your turn to choose," she answered agreeably, her tone every bit as casual as his. "Good. It's a date." He offered her the trademark grin. She hadn't truly accepted of course, but he made the assumption with confidence in his voice. There was that grin again. The one that said he maybe thought he might be on thin ice but was going to chance it anyway. It worked for him. "I guess it is, Lieutenant." She grabbed the pack and walked toward the doors leading back to Aegis' everyday life but paused and smiled over her shoulder at him, saying, "I look forward to seeing what you choose." Expression unchanged, he nodded to her as she left. Of course, he would have to leave the holodeck eventually, but it would be far more dramatic if he stood there, seeing her off. Waiting at least fifteen seconds, surely enough time for her to have rounded the corridor, he tugged his gear up on to his shoulder, and left for his quarters.

That's too bad, I never got to go. Some relatives and I were thinking about making a trip out there once, but it never happened.

Ah! I won something! Yay! I'm still confused about the 2457 though.

Is it...Made in Limited Quantity?

Uh...does it rhyme with milk? Which means you'd spell the acronym [X] [X] L Q if you meant for the underlined letters to be included in the acronym? Since I've not seen people use the colloquial sentence starter 'Gee' on a message board, I figured that was supposed to the first letter of the acronym. So my guess is the acronym is G I L Q . But I don't know how that would relate back to 2457, or what it could possibly mean on its own so it's probably wrong.

Happy Birthday!

Maintenance Log – 0618.08 - 17 Data Type: Audio Recording Date Recorded: 0616.08 Date Filed: 0618.08 Type of Maintenance: System/Electrical – Shield Generators Location: Primary Module, Deck 12, Jefferies Tube 12-D Recording Officer: Mid. Caelan Fletcher Begin Audio: Buzzing in the background can be heard – an electrical hum, occasionally punctuated by a momentary change in pitch and the fizzle-cracks of a welder working nearby. The mechanical cacophony is accompanied by steady breathing, the repetitive squeak of sweaty palms peeling forward on the metal floorboard and the reverberating thud of knees trailing behind. “Sterdate…zera…shix…wan… pfft…” The sound of spitting is soon followed by the clank of metal on metal. “That’s better…Stardate zero six one eight, zero six. One of the Lieutenants said I oughta file a maintenance report before I finish working on this section. Never been a fan for that sort of…formality, but no one listens to these anyway…right?” An audible pause seems to convey Mr. Fletcher’s answer to the rhetorical question. The noisy environment couldn’t hide Caelan’s Appalachian accent. Though it would leave few guessing where he’d been raised, his speech could be understood easily enough. “I won’ t bore you’all with the details of the repairs…there’s a damage report filed somewhere. Suffice it to say, we took quite a beating.” The sounds of repair work began to replace those of movement. “We lost our shields in the attack, but hey – at least we’re all alive to see another day and file more of these maintenance reports.” A minute or so of sounds familiar to engineers pass by – the ohms and ahms of scanning devices, the loosening of hinges and braces, and the reluctant sigh of damaged equipment being forced out of its place. “There’s two of us down here on deck twelve. Midshipman Goon’s manning the welder, replacing some of the damaged paneling around one of the shield generators. Say hello Goon!” An awkward silence passes, bringing no new voice to the recording. “Meh…you’re no fun. Mr. Goon’s a bit uptight, if you ask me. I’ve only worked with one of the other engineers - Garrett, and she was much better company…a little strange though…but, uh…in a good way. She keeps things interesting.” The scuffling sound of crawling returns, “Anyway…I’ve finished a preliminary check up on the shield system located on this deck. There’s more testin’ to do, and I’ll probably be in here for another few hours repairing what I missed on the first look, but it’ll get done…eventually. I imagine all the generators are in the same shape or worse, so I can’t even estimate how long it’ll take before they’re back up.” A long pause, “Uh…yeah…so I guess that covers everything.” The recording unceremoniously clicks off. End Audio

Yeah, I'm interested to see how Champions will turn out. I can only think of a few times when I think an MMO developer has been able to say 'Man, if we could only do it again' and put those ideas into production (Everquest 2 - though it wasn't designed to be a replica of the original, Vanguard - it hurts to much to talk about). I liked a lot of things about CoH and CoV, but I just didn't get into it. I had a hard time finding roleplayers, which didn't help. Lots of opportunity here to expand off of their original license, into a subset of the MMO genre that has absolutely no competition. Unsubstantiated Rumor #2: In an effort to reduce production costs, the man providing the voiceovers for the 'Head-On' commercials will step in for Majel Barrett as the voice for the standard, LCARS based computer.

On an optimistic note, at least Cryptic has published a successful MMO. While I have a feeling that the Star Trek MMO won't live up to its expectations, I think Cryptic would at least get it to release. It might crash and burn post-launch, but I have to believe Cryptic would at least get it to that point. Unsubstantiated Rumor #1: At level 60, you can purchase an epic borg-cube mount.