STSF_Scooter

The Executive Officer, on the other hand, spent time with the Marines and prefers to be bluntly up front about anyone prying into her private life. Which may send you into T'Aral's care...or burial at sea. Your choice.

10.09.09 Mission Update: Admiral Atragon sent the USS Comanche Creek and her brand spanking new crew off into the unknown to take on all sorts of adventures. The USS CC has left Earth Orbital Space Dock, and is traveling towards the New Vulcan Colony world. Time Between Sims: 2 weeks. Next weeks sim will begin with the ship reaching the outer perimeter of New Vulcan space. Baa Baa Black Sheep! USS_CCChat09_10_09.txt

You know we've become too much a consumer society when our pets have cell phones

We also have Squadron Commander and XO positions for the Aerospace Group available.

::gives A9 the Dreaded Puppy Dog Eyes attack, coupled with the pouty lower lip:: Awwww, you're not really going to do that Admiral...Are you? We're a new sim, we need all the money we can get...

For pay grades O-7 and above, Admiral, its a cash bar.

::blinks:: Jami, are you sure this is the man you married all those years ago?

Well, if that's the case, we can always do the "Wormhole/Temporal Storm" joint sim...I'm sure Drankum wouldn't mind a ship full of customers.

Which is not a coca-derivative at all. Laudanum is an opiate.

Ok Boys and Girls... After much delay and cost overruns, get your applications in to Personnel to join our new and exciting old-school adventures, based off of the newest movie in the franchise- Star Trek! We sail into history on 25 September, 09, at 2100 hours Eastern Time (or 2115, for those working on Moose time)!

We all are quivering in anticip...ation. Which reminds me, I need to keep grease on the ceiling panels. At least until launch date.

Audraya moved briskly through the halls of Starfleet Command avoiding, with long-practiced ease, those who neglected to move out of her way fast enough. She also easily avoided, or rather ignored, the longing look of some of her male counterparts. Between knocking Admiral Barnett to the floor with a swift right cross, and earning her place (with her fists) as a member of VMF-214, she believed in merit, not sexual prowess, unlike others in her family. Granted, there was that one incident involving Lt. Xiao when the Ark Royal put into Risa for shore leave, but what happens on Risa, stays on Risa. Audraya paused long enough to adjust her uniform and strip off her landing party jacket, before entering the Chief of Starfleet Border Patrol’s outer office. “I have an appointment with Admiral Coyote,” she said to the yeoman seated at the desk. “If you would have a seat…” the suggestion came tersely. “Commander Wesley.” “Of course, Commander.” Rear Admiral Shauna Coyote was currently buried, almost literally, by about a dozen or so electronic report slates that littered her desktop, the maroon red coloring of the electronic recording devices contrasting sharply with the glossy black finish of her ebony wood desk. The FTR project lead’s office was located behind her yeoman’s desk are, and the entry way door to the posh office was currently closed. Coyote finished the paragraph she was reading, some sort of muckity muck regarding the warp nacelle injectors for the Comanche Creek -- she was a former navigator and pilot, not a grease jock -- and finally accepted defeat when her eyes glazed over for the third time in as many sentences. She blew a breath out of her mouth to remove a strand of dark auburn hair from her direct line of site and tossed the data slate into the ‘to be read’ bin on her desk and swiped a hand at the intercom mounted on the right of her desktop. “Yeoman, has my eleven o’clock appointment arrived? Commander Wesley?” The assistant's reply was prim and proper and sounded a bit tinny over the office to office wireless lines. “Aye sir. Shall I send her in?” “By all means send the Commander in. Coyote out.” It was a knee jerk reaction thanks to all those years serving on the ships. Shauna knew that there was no reason to say ‘Coyote out’ within an administrative office setting, but old habits die hard apparently. The yeoman looked at Audraya. “The Admiral will see you now, Commander.” Audraya nodded as she stood, and crossed to the door. “Angels and ministers of grace defend us,” she muttered, since every time she’d been called before flag rank officers, it was usually in regards to some incident she was involved in. The door slid open, and Audraya walked into the Admiral’s office. She took in the scene, one of organized chaos, with data slates all over the Admiral’s desk, some on the floor, and even a couple in a wastepaper basket. “Commander Audraya Wesley, reporting as ordered Admiral,” she announced, tossing up and holding her salute. Coyote wasted no time, and slid easily into the official pleasantries. “Welcome, at ease, and have a seat Commander. I’m sure you have questions if not curiosity regarding your promotion and new assignment posting?” Relaxing slightly, Audraya sat in the rich leather seat, but remained at the position of attention. “Yes, ma’am; I do. If I may speak candidly, Admiral, why me? I did nothing to merit the promotion at the Battle of Vulcan, except survive. And that was more a fluke of my battle station. I’m sure you’ve seen my record, ma’am. If nothing, I’ve been a disciplinary case ever since Starship Tactics with Admiral Barrett, when I slugged the arrogant son of a bitch for propositioning me. And I’m sure Colonel Laird put some choice derogatory comments while I served on Munda with the Black Sheep…” A little smile tugged at the corners of the older Human woman’s mouth at the younger Orion’s candidness. “Actually Commander Audraya, one of the reasons I chose you for promotion and as a candidate for the XO position on the Comanche Creek is because of that so called ability to think with your fists.” The admiral continued speaking as she reshuffled a couple of the data slates out of her way. “I need a particular breed of officer that is capable of both taking care of themselves and carrying forth the protection ideals of the Starfleet out on the frontier space. You fit that bill, Commander, as does the woman who will be serving as your Captain.” “And, to be honest, I saw in your file that you served with the VMF 214 Black Sheep starfighter group? The Comanche Creek crew’s call sign, as you’ve no doubt read, will be the SBP 214 Black Sheep for the border patrol ship designation…I think it’s a nice little bit of tradition to have an XO who has time served as a Black Sheep…don’t you agree?” Audraya nodded. "Indeed Admiral. I'm glad that you have the confidence in my skills to be selected for this assignment." I just hope I can live up to your expectations Admiral. "When will the ship and crew be ready?" “The protection program has been in the implementation phase for a couple of years now Commander. We had the prep work and busy work in place already, and the ship was due to launch this year. I’ll be honest though -- Nero afforded us an opportunity to kick the FTR program into high gear, although of course I wish the circumstances were different. The Comanche Creek will launch in the next couple of months. Senior crew, including Captain Calestorm, are starting to rotate over and set themselves up in their assigned quarters, so please feel free to move into your new home so to speak if you desire to do so.” The rear admiral paused, and then continued speaking to Commander Wesley. “I knew your sponsor, Bob Wesley. He was a good man…a good leader. I’m sorry to hear he was lost at the Battle of Vulcan. We lost a lot of good officers in the black above the planet as they tried to protect the Vulcan people…but we’ll be carrying on their work with the First Threat Response program Commander. And as I said, I need people who can make this program work in practice.” Then, a good natured smirk lightened across Coyote’s features. “I know I was a bit aggressive with my personnel recruiting for the ship, and I’m sure it’s a bit of a shock for you to suddenly find out one day you’ve not only been promoted but are slated to take on an XO position?” Audraya nodded. "I know Fa...aw hell. I used to kid Captain Wesley, and call him 'Father', especially around his family. He took it in great stride. Starfleet lost a great tactician over Vulcan. And, yes Ma'am, it was a shock to wake up in the hospital after taking a nap and finding out you're not only now a full commander, but first officer of a new ship. "And, with your permission, Admiral, I'd like to head over to Uniform Sales and the base exchange and replace what was lost on the Entente." “Permission granted Commander. And, if you happen to run into any issues replacing your belongings and equipment? Direct any complaints to me.” “Of course, Admiral.”

Audraya stood before the recently dedicated plinth at Starfleet Academy, a cold wind whipping off the Bay. The weather suited the Orion commander’s mood perfectly: cold and dreary. The plinth, made of polished granite was topped by a golden command insignia and listed the names of those lost in the Battle of Vulcan; the biggest defeat of Starfleet since the early battles of the Earth-Romulan Wars. Her purple eyes picked out the name of her mentor easily amongst the others listed. “I’ve been promoted,” she said, as she sat on a bench facing Bob Wesley’s name. “I finally made commander, and I think Starfleet has it in their infinite wisdom to assign me to a new ship.” She paused as, though listening to a reply from the other side. “I know, Father. But I don’t know if I’m ready to head back into space. What if I freeze at a particularly inopportune moment? Or I lose another crewman under my command? “Yes, yes, I know couldn’t prevent the death of Lieutenants Perry and Nelson anymore than I could have prevented the destruction of the Truman or Entente. We were lucky that Nero was so intent on destroying Vulcan that he neglected to look at any surviving lifesigns. Not that there were many after the Narada opened up on us. “I know, I know, we wouldn’t be having this conversation this way.” Audraya stood, and straightened her landing party jacket. “Admiral Coyote wanted to see me; which is why I think I’m going back into space. I wonder if she’s related to Wily E. “We’ll talk again later, I hope.” As she turned to leave, Audraya paused and knelt in front of the plinth. She reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out her class ring. She gave it one last look, before placing it in front of the plinth. “Thank you, Father, for believing in me, and giving me a chance,” she said quietly.

Audraya lay curled under her covers, the awards ceremony from Starfleet Academy on the hospital playing on the library computer interface, the Battle of Vulcan going through her mind. More specifically the fleet's destruction and the Entente's demise. As second officer of the dreadnought, her battlestation was the warship's emergency bridge, located deep in the saucer on deck 10… -=-=-=- "All ships, this is Commodore Wesley. Battlestations, I say again battlesta…" The viewscreen showed the massive Romulan mining ship Narada beginning her attack against the Federation fleet. The Truman suffered the brunt of the initial assault, exploding under the onslaught of advanced weaponry. "Audraya," Captain Stoddart said, "man your battlestation. And good luck." He hit the intercom on his seat. "All hands, this is the captain. Battlestations, I say again battlestations. Set Condition One throughout the ship." "Aye sir," she replied, and headed aft to the lift. Moments later, she entered the emergency bridge, in time for Lt. Perry to lock it down…and in time to come under fire. The Entente shuddered under the assault, and the whine of the impulse engines could be heard from two decks above. "Commander," Lt Perry called, "multiple hull penetra…" He was cut off, as the console he was looking at exploded from feedback. The hull groaned, lights and consoles flickered until the dim emergency lights attempted to penetrate the darkness that emergency bridge was plunged into. The air was filled with the sound of tearing metal as the dorsal failed structurally. "Report," Audraya called out. "Ma'am," Ensign Sakai called out, "power's gone, propulsion's gone, gravity's gone, life support's gone, Mr. Perry's dead, Lt. Nelson as well." The lights flickered then failed. "Batteries are gone." "No one move or talk any more than necessary," Audraya called out, as she floated near the command seat. "We're going to burn through a lot of oxygen before our rescue, so we'll need to conserve as much as possible." -=-=-=- Audraya woke with a start. While she was sleeping, someone had slipped in, and hung a new uniform on the closet door and placed a tablet on the bedside table, along with her dinner tray. As she blinked the sleep away, she noticed that the uniform was wrong. "Wait a minute," she muttered. "When did I get promoted to Commander?"

And she declined.

Are you sure this isn't Springfield? And that isn't a younger Chief Wiggams?

Believe me, Captain, Kirk won't be hiding under my bed. Nyoto, maybe :P

Want to drive a fighter instead, Precip?

Sounds like the start to an intervention meeting, Captain. Is there anything I should be concerned about?

That's a given that we'll have at least one running around, Jami.

Fridays at 9pm Eastern.

We're looking to start sometime in mid-September.

The Dao of 6 Flags.

Now the true challenge would be to see Dac TOSilicious this year at SLE. ;) Command gold, Sciences blue, or Services red, matters not.

And there's something wrong there? But are they going to have the TOS medical salt shaker? Medically-minded types want to know...