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About Sovak

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    Logic is only the beginning of wisdom
  • Birthday 05/24/1958

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  1. Thank you, Admiral for keeping us all going. It is due to your dedication and perseverance, that we all still have a place to play after all these years. Kudos, my friend. -Sovak
  2. Mr. Nimoy made it cool to be Vulcan. My character would never have existed if it weren't for his fascinating portrayal. Warp speed Mr Spock.
  3. Congratulations to Manticore's first Advanced sim graduation. Cadet Mo, after simming with us for several weeks, was officially promoted to Ensign on SD1308.14 Congratulations Ensign Mo.
  4. So here's a questiuon... how often had Manticore been refit during those 14 years? (At least we are still on the original... no A, B, C, D, E...)
  5. It's amazing you all have gotten so old, and I'm still so young and viral.
  6. Auditions for the Ultraman Tabernacle Choir are brutal!
  7. Sorry all. Been really busy that last month, and haven't been on the boards at all. Agreed Sumo has the winner. Take it away Sumo!
  8. For the ultimate in geekiness, (and for just a hint of irony) I want to get a tattoo of a communicator/emblem on my chest. I can just see myself showing it off to my biker friends.
  9. OK, let's try this one: (P.S. I'd love to have this in RL)
  10. Sovak’s eyes snapped open. His quarters were dark, of course, except for the small amount of luminescence that filtered through the external ports of his room from the glow of work lights on Maturin Station. He had been sleeping deeply, dreaming, as was usual after the relief of a particularly harrowing mission, of personal, peaceful events. The most recent dream was of a picnic. His wife, Claire, had introduced them to him. She seemed to enjoy taking a blanket to some outdoor, pleasant environment, spread it on the ground, and partake of a portable meal she had conveyed to the location in a woven, fibrous container. Since he did approve of spending any time with her that he could, he was always satisfied to accompany her, even if eating from the ground seemed illogical and somewhat uncomfortable. In the dream, he and Claire were laying on the blanket in a large field of grass under a spreading Oak tree. The breeze was warm and pleasant, the meal spread invitingly on the checkered blanket, while Clair smiled and poured two glasses of red wine. Sovak was reaching for one of these when he heard the distinct sound of rain. Knowing this would ruin Claire’s enjoyment of the picnic he looked around for the indications of the atmospheric disturbance, and possible shelter against the unwelcome intrusion. The day, however, was bright and sunny. No clouds. No wind. Nothing to indicate rain would ruin their plans. He looked back to Clair and she was standing, her smile now gone. She slowly poured the wine in her glass onto the grass and said with a pout, “Just as things seem back to normal, something else comes along to ruin our fun!” Sovak started to protest that there was no actual rain evident to impair their enjoyment, when he heard the sound again, off to his right. It was the unmistakable sound of rainwater falling and pattering lightly on the pavement. Wait a minute! Pavement? He turned, but could see no rain, and indeed, no pavement. As far as he could see was only an empty field of grass, dotted here and there with wild flowers and the occasional lone tree. He started to remark on the illogic of the situation when his conscious thought intervened, and he realized that it was all a dream, and he opened his eyes. The field, flowers, trees, blanket, and warm day all vanished and the sound of the falling rain faded... Sovak sat up. The sound of the rain was still there. He looked to the right and realized the sound of the rain was coming from his shower in the other room. As his dream faded and reality set in, the usual ship sounds joined with that of the rain, and one other sound he had not heard for several months. Humming. And not merely humming, but the distinctive sound of Claire’s humming. He was quite aware that she had been away on a secretive special operations mission for months. Because of the nature of her missions, he was, of course, unaware where she had actually been, or when she would return. The humming stopped with the sound of the water, as she finished her shower. Sovak sat quietly on the bed as he simply listened to the pleasant sounds of her drying her hair, and finishing the rest of her morning ablutions. She walked into the room, still rubbing her hair with the towel. At his look of curiosity she grinned and said, “You know how I hate taking sonic showers. I look good, old fashioned water from time to time.” When his expression didn’t change, she, a veteran of reading even the slightest change in his face, stopped drying her hair and said, “What?” “It is good to see you again. I was simply curious as to when you had returned.” “Returned?” She looked puzzled, but didn’t lose her grin. “I finished my duty shift a few minutes ago. I was simply showering before I came to bed, like I always do.” Sovak raised an eyebrow as he tried to reconcile this statement with the facts he knew of her months-long mission. Just as he opened his mouth to ask her what she meant, the main entrance door of their quarters swished open with no warning. This was unusual, Sovak bemused, since it was unannounced, and the only two people who could normally do that were already in the room. The figure which stood silhouetted in the doorway had to have had clearance to open the door. The hesitation displayed by the figure indicated that it was surprised, as well, at finding the room already occupied. Sovak stood to confront the intruder, but it simply stood there in the shadows of the corridor. The tableau was unbroken for several seconds until Sovak stoically verbalized an icebreaker, “Come in.” The figure stepped into the light of the room and folded his hands behind him, one eyebrow raised. The man before him was Sovak. Claire looked to the new arrival and then back to him. “I had wondered how you got to bed so quickly. Our shifts ended at the same time.” The implications of this doppelganger quickly resolved themselves in his mind. Another Sovak, and a Clair who had no recollection of ever being gone from him for months? The only logical explanation was quick to reveal itself. They were in yet another parallel universe. They had never truly made it home. Sovak slowly sat back on the bed as the full implications registered on him. The odds that they had found a way to get back from two different universes were astronomical. Finding a way back from a third would be nigh impossible. He had to clamp down tight on his emotions as the totality of the situation bombarded his psyche. They would never get home! All the work, the striving, the lives lost… had all been for nothing! He closed his eyes and breathed deeply as the strong emotions, held in check for so long, threatened to burst forth and overtake him. No! It could not be! Still not home? Sovak laid back on the bed as he struggled to control the emotional dam trying to burst in his mind. The despair threatened to overwhelm him and he felt himself falling into a deep, black pit as he faded into unconsciousness… Sovak’s eyes snapped open. His quarters were dark, of course, except for the small amount of luminescence that filtered through the external ports of his room from the glow of work lights on Maturin Station. His quarters were lonely and silent, even the normal sounds of the ship subdued since it had been powered down for several weeks as repairs were being undertaken by Maturin Station personnel since they had come home. He had been sleeping deeply... dreaming... Sovak sat up slowly and looked out the port. He idly wondered what Claire was doing about now.
  11. You know what the definition of "Heck" is? It's a place where people go who don't believe in "Gosh"
  12. What do you mean Wesley Crusher has a crush on me?
  13. Hey, Joe, did you see that? I could have sworn that guy had pointed ears! Weird, huh?
  14. As always, if you have questions or suggestions for the boards, feel free to drop us a post!
  15. I say, Deanna, is that a Community Chest?