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0 NeutralAbout rosetto
- Birthday 06/09/1961
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http://martianinstarfleet.wordpress.com/
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Male
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Location
Southaven, MS
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Interests
I am mostly interested in Music, STAR TREK, and women; not necessarily in that order.
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Yep, He hath returned.... Well, hopefully. Basically, I am attempting to convince an old friend of mine who is also an avid ST fan to join with me. I really think she'll love doing this sorta thing. If I convince her then we will probably be joining the Academy in the near future. I'm looking forward to simming with you all again! pete
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I totally agree with your reasoning here. Many years back when TNG was coming to an end, I had sent Paramount an idea for a follow-on series. What they produced was Deep Space Nine which definitely lacked the main driving point that I was making. Basically, it's easy! We all know the STAR TREK Universe and how it all works. We don't have to reinvent that. All we have to do is show the audience (show us!) the rest of the Federation, not just the one ship and crew. And what I mean is that every week we are shown a new crew and new environment. It could even be a new Genre, comedy one week, crime drama the next and then a medical or soap opera following that!... We could even throw in a Spaghetti Western! Woot! Woot! I know, the Holodeck provided some of that from TNG, but what I am talking about is "CSI:Star Trek" or "Star Trek:JAG"
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As far as I can recall, when Kirk 1st took command, the war with the Klingons was still active. In fact, until the Organians "Errand of Mercy", the Federation is still at war with the Klingons.. Just saying... :)
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CONTINUED... I had my luggage sent directly to the Inn when we arrived in Deonis. I thought it would be easier that way to find Susan. The transit shuttle dropped me off on the north side of the complex. I stood there for a moment to get my bearings looking around for a sign or placard. There had to be a locator map near by. Across the causeway the buildings rose with there glimmering steel and glass superstructures piercing the darkening sky. The air was populated by personal transits traveling in almost every possible direction. This was the heartbeat of the Andorian culture. Everything that happened here effected the entire planet. Decisions being made in lofty board rooms pathed the way of progress; determined whether this plot of land was to be cleared for a new man-made structure or reserved torward the redemption of Andoria. Looking back torward the terminal I saw a small illuminated vertical arrow pointing downwards. Above it was a glowing symbol that indicated 'map'. It was about 35 meters away and so I crossed the street and walked in that direction. The port was layed out in four pentagonal terminals equally distributed and radiating outward torward the south. The central hub was the control center and it was surrounded by a spotted incomplete inner ring of commercial shops and vendor mock-ups. The eateries were in in three distinct areas in an outer ring of shops. I was to meet her in the southern-most eatery area named ub Zooph Voom (the pearl strip). I proceeded torward the Pearl Strip looking left and right. It must have been obvious that I was lost because I was approached by a kind andorian youth. After a brief salutation, he pointed me in the correct direction. He even saw Susan with her orange scarf in the small crowd of people. "That must be the woman!" He said, "Not too many humans come to Andor during Con Tsubar." "Yeah, I supposed not." I replied, "Thanks for your help kind cha." I walked over through the crowd and extended a hand as I had read is customary to humans, "You must be Miss Susan Blake?" She recipricated with her own hand gripping my firmly, "Indeed. And you must be Kyron Dansit." Indeed I was and I smiled and nodded in confirmation. Susan's appearance wasn't at all what I had expected. Honestly, I don't know what I had expected. She was the first human that I had ever met face-to-face. Her hair was light yellow with spots of grayish tan, like andorian hair only softer and with more depth. She was about 10 centimeters taller than I, just bigger all around. Her skin was almost as dark as a daak (equestrian beast of burden), much richer than I had imagined. She wore a simple drab overcoat draped with that orange scarf and tight fitted gray pants and black shoes. "Please have a seat. Would you like a beverage?" She seemed polite and we both sat down at a table in this open cafe style eatery. A young andorian servant who must have been watching us came to the table almost at the same time as we got settled. "The specials today are 'broiled bool in zeb sauce' and 'warm phuun with spiced poob'." Susan gave the andorian a queer glance and I raised my hand to politely interrupt, "We are not eating, thank you. Some hot ziim tea with two cups will suffice." "You'll like this tea. It's mild but will warm your insides nicely," I assured her. Susan nodded. After the servant left she started, "So, have you been to the inn already? I don't see any garment bags." "I had them delivered directly to the inn. I thought it would be better that way." I replied. We exchanged small talk for about fifteen or twenty minutes as we sipped our tea. Susan had been to Andoria on several occassions but never during Con Tsubar. I assured her that it wouldn't get too cold for her as long as she dressed appropriately. I let her know that I had some extra zhaah-cloaks that she could borrow. And so the basics got settled as to who was staying where and itinerary Susan had planned. There were a couple of tests that she wanted me to complete and papers to sign but she assured me that none of it was vital for my acceptance as a impromptu liason to Andoria. She was a little hesistent to discuss anything in detail concerning the surgery and if fact she hushed me twice when I had brought up the topic. There were ears everywhere. It was already unusual for an Aenar to be seen with an offworlder in such an intimate setting with out an andorian present. We decided that it was best if we left and went back to the inn to finish our discussions.
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I like this. However, having just watched Battleship for the first time the other day makes me think that perhaps we DO wanna wait until they come and find us. Putting out a beacon saying 'Come And Get It!' might not be the smartest thing, eh? There have been many studies conducted concerning higher lifeforms. Take our dinosaurs, for instance, who happened to rule this world for a heck of a long time. Had they developed higher brain functions (which I believe they were in the process of doing), they would still be dominating our world and I hardly think they would be docile when in came to interplanetary relations. The drive to leave your home world might be that there is just no more food left and you need to find it elsewhere to survive. There is nothing that says that dominating species have to wage war on itself like we do. What if this species dominates within a cooperation of survival of the herd. The higher brain functions would demand carnivorous appetites and so they would raise and consume lifeforms with lower brain function. WE may be that lower lifeform. okay, I'll shut up... :)
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Guys (and gals): Before STAR TREK we had to open the doors at the supermarket! We have until 2063 to get this Warp Drive thingy to work. I believe that Alcubierre got some of it right but not all of it. Subspace is an area outside of our 4D universe (XYZ + Time). Once we have placed the vessel into that realm, anything is possible. Has anyone seen representations of the spiraling magnetic fields around pulsars? Do we understand what this does to space-time? I know, we're talking about an enormous amount of energy, however, one thing to consider is a strict law of physics. We cannot create or destroy anything. All we can to is change its state. What I mean by this is that the energy is out there. We just have to figure out how to tap into it. It only took 1.21 GWatts and 88 mph to travel in time. I'm sure we could scrounge up a bit more than that to develop a Warp Drive... :)
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This would be really kewl to observe 1st hand... I certainly live in the wrong century... :)
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Well, All I can say is, "I waited four years for THIS?" I walked away not as impressed with JJ Abrams as before. It just didn't have the same curb appeal and it was as so many have already mentioned.... done before. Honestly, I had heard in early 2010 that they were planning to revisit characters. I was disappointed that they actually went there. Personally, I believed that Abrams had a unique opportunity here to show us all the first two years of Captain Kirk's stint on the Enterprise. If we all remember when the series started, Kirk had been captain for some time. I usually categorize this as the series showing us the last three years of his five year tour since they had returned to Earth at the start of ST-TMP. I guess Hollywoodland is just not what it used to be. They need to hire some of Disney's Imagineers!
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We are all here to help those who ask. (we stoned those who don't) LOL Not really... But please don't be shy. If you have questions, throw them out there... And as Khre'Riov has mentioned, indeed find a seat in the 'famous' peanut gallery and watch the shows. You can get a lot from just watching and reading... pete/kyron
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CONTINUED.... I put down my link-pad and began to think about what I had recorded and where my life was taking me. This was to be a new beginning, a clean slate I thought, a way to finally be able to express myself openly without the fear of condenscendence from those who shared my thoughts. Away from the collection was like swimming naked in the pool for the first time. No one around you knew that you had slipped off your suit. It was only two quick pulls on the straps and the garment would drift off with little effort remaining suspended from your finger tips just under the water. Only the bust of your figure bobbed above the surface for all to see, but you felt a freedom that you had never experienced before. There were no longer any restraints and the cool water stirred every part of your body. But it was more than the freedom that one feels because there was a selfish mystique remaining; the thought of you fooling everyone else in the pool. You were free and they were not. I had been chatting with a fellow passenger before I recorded my log to Susan. Mr. ch'Zara sat across from me in the compartment in business dress and sachel. It was obvious that he was attracted to me because of the way he fussed with his garment; aways adjusting and readjusting as if it were uncomfortable to wear. Because my body carries eggs I am referred to as shen and therefore my proper name is Kyron sh'Dansit, however, due to the uniqueness of my genes, mating for me has been categorized as taboo. This is, and was, not always apparent when I mentally introduce myself to Aenar. When Mr. ch'Zara asked, I simply responded with Kyron. He knew that something was wrong when I refused to acknowledge sha. It was the polite thing for me to do and since it was not forthcoming I had been considered rude in his mind. He immediately quit fussing with his suit, pulled a link-pad of his own from his sachel and has basically ignored my existence during the rest of the trip from Umbregal. As our journey was coming to an end I felt an urge to at least apologize to him, however, from passed experiences, any attempt at explaining my situation had resulted in disgust. So I left it 'hanging' so to speak and sat with my legs slightly crossed and hands in lap, admiring his stable shoulders and the stern concetration of his brow. He was obviously on his way to an important meeting in g'Clirith. I sighed audibly as the tram came to a stop. There was a cold wind that lifted my hair like a scythe through wheat when I exited the tram at the station near the habour. My belonging were stowed in a compartment toward the rear of the craft and so I casually started down the platform. To my suprize, I was soon walking along side of Mr. ch' Zara who was apparently headed to the same place. I broke the silence and audibly spoke, "You have business in g'Clirith?" "As a matter of fact, this is home. I am on my way to Deonis to finalize a construction contract, you?" I didn't want to just start blurting out that I was meeting an offworlder. That was just unacceptable to Aenar. At the same time, however, I did want to clear up my perceived rudeness. He was, afterall, fairly attractive, headed in my direction and if he was interested enough to actually speak with me then I needed to provide conversation. "I like to spend Con Tsubar in the city. " It wasn't much, but I thought it might lead to a follow on. We both stopped as we came to the impromptu carrousel that was being fed passenger luggage. "What color are yours?", I asked without even thinking and we both laughed at the implied inuendo, knowing that I was referring to his garment bags and nothing else. It was the first time that he had smiled and that felt comforting to me. He looked longingly at those on the carrousel already and then at the line of items coming off the craft. "Obviously my bags were tossed to the back of the compartment. They're black, but I'll know them when I see them." "I hope you didn't think me rude back there. I am a bit embarrassed by my behavior earlier. It's complicated." "Well, perhaps you'll get a chance to beg for my forgiveness on the shuttle", he replied as I caught one of my bags dropping down from the hold. He looked quite impressed that a woman of my stature could handle such a large item. I just smiled. "The shuttle doesn't leave for an hour. Perhaps we could get a bite. I know a little cafe that serves fresh gristhera not too far from here." He agreed as we collected our bags, placed them together on a cart and proceeded off the busy platform. Lunch was delightful and he finally accepted my apologies. Quup, as he liked to be called, was a pleasant sort for an Aenar. The work to which he had referred was a new library in Umbregal. He wasn't the architect, but he was very familiar with the zoning issues even though he was actually only working in Umbregal. He knew that the school which was right across from the site was in desperate need of a new asset like this. I could not agree more, having grown up in the area. The old library had been lost a year back; something to do with the foundation. Anyway, it just sank into the soft ground and soon it was condemmed and torn down. After a healthy lunch we were soon on the shuttle to Deonis only this time I had someone with which to converse. It was a 2-hour flight from g'Clirith and so we had drinks from the bar and he really talked my ear off. I thought I talked a lot for Aenar. Quup was a regular mouth piece. I think he was much younger than he appeared and perhaps a bit nervous still. I didn't mind. It was much better than sitting there alone with my thoughts, or worse, in the heavy mental conjestion of the Aenar collection. This way I could process them in my subconscience while I kept up with his banter. There was a commotion in the forward compartment so we both got up to see. It had begun. The sun was now hidden by the Great Tsubar and it looked like we were headed for some rough weather. You could tell the temperature dropped because all of the color paled. It wasn't like twilight with its deep reds, greens and burnt orange. Everything had a gray-blue wash and looking down I could see that the ocean was disturbed. This was why so many people got depressed during this time. There was a powerful gloom that hung over the planet. Ice particles from the water vapor in the air began to cling to th hull of the craft and perform their sparkle dance glittering like diamonds. We'd be in Deonis within the hour and you could see the coastline dotted with man-made structures that rose out of the cliffs. Their gleaming metal surfaces were in contrast to the dull brownish-grey limestone from which the emerged. "Where will you be staying while you are in Deonis?" He asked. I didn't know whether he was inviting me to stay with him or was genuinely interested in my accomodations. Susan had set up lodging for me at a local inn near the space port. It was nothing fancy but I really didn't require luxury. I hadn't told him anything about my meeting; didn't know his politics. Even me thinking about it now would raise his suspicions of me and so I decided that I would tell him about the meeting. "I'm meeting a friend from Star Fleet. She has made arrangements at the 'Theekh uk Thethaa Zeev' (which loosely translates to the crossing of shallow breathing). I'm guessing that they are referring to the view as being breath-taking. I have never been there. It's somewhere near the space port though." "Eh, I have never heard of it either. However, the inns in that area are usually clean and safe. Will you be staying until ngiCon Tsubar? We could meet up again if you like." "That sounds nice. Give me your contact and I will let you know if and when I can be available after I get settled in and meet with my friend. Okay?" Meanwhile, Lt. Commander Susan Blake walks into Admiral Brett Monroe's office onboard the USS Mason-Dixon which is in a parking orbit above Deonis. She is a bit apprehensive because she doesn't know what the Admiral knows or even why he had asked to see her on such late notice. She was to meet with the operative on the planet within the hour. Susan was not even in uniform. Although it was customary for people in her division to vary their dress according to their missions, she was meeting the admiral. Regardless and in an attempt to hide her nervousness, she stood at attention before the admiral's inspection, her arms stiff at her sides and eyes forward looking out the portal in his office, trying not to look at him directly. The admiral rose slowly and walked around her with his arms loosely draped behind his back. He was a man of moderate stature with dark almost black hair and eyes like beads. The metals on his uniform were quite impressive to Susan, the Star Cross, Metal of Honor, to name a few that had caught her secretly wandering eye. This removed any doubt within her that the admiral was well respected in the fleet. He began with a stern burly voice, "So... I gathered from your report that this operative could easily pose as either Andorian or Human?" "With minor surgery sir... yes. Her skin is pale but pink. Her hair is auburn and her eyes are 'normal' by our standards; highly unusual for her species. The antennae may be removed, however, will grow back in a matter of months. Their purpose may be compensated through cortical stimulation. Kryon, the operative, has already expressed a desire for their surgical removal to be performed." "Hmmm...", The admiral continued around the lieutenant and them returned to his chair standing behind it. "At ease, lieutenant. Please, have a seat..." He extended a welcoming hand and thin smile. Susan quickly abliged him. He sat down only after she got settled, brushed his bare chin and continued, "This Kryon, you say, she is a social outcast? A loner? Intelligent, though lacking in higher education? Interesting..." "Yes sir. ", she paused, "I am to meet her within the hour admiral." "Relax leiutenant. We will have you there in plenty of time for your rendezvous. Let's talk about what you know about her on a personal level. Does she have family? Where do they stand with the..." His questions continued for what seemed like hours to Susan, however, she was finally released and made her way to the transporter room. She would be meeting Kyron in an open public reception area of the local space port. It had been arranged that Kryon would recognized her by the orange and bright green scarf that she wore.
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Joe: I would like to continue my character, Sal, after he left the Qob on this part-timed log-only basis. I am currently drafting a storyline involving his daughter in the Aldebaran System. I realize that this is just outside of Bull's Head however my intent is to involve persons from Bull's Head. As I get further along I will share this with you prior to posting and await your approval to continue. As for Sal's continued affairs with Qob directly, I have decided to go in a different direction here on STSF (obviously noting my new avatar).
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On Fesoan we have our companion of the heavens. We call him Tsubar and he dominates our skies like a father sheltering us from the cosmic bombardments beyond. He is larger than anything else in the heavens and he has a sword or sash that passes through his belly and can be seen clearly at night during certain parts of the year. This is the one constant that binds us to our world. This is what we were taught as children. Now we know that Tsubar is a planet, one of many in the Andorian System. Fesoan, or Andor as the offworlders call it, is but a satellite of this planet. The sword is in reality a planetary ring or belt of icy particles that glow in the night but the image of the sword still lingers in my mind. Only one with an iron will could survive with a sword piercing one's stomach. That is life on Fesoan. That is my father, proud and bold, always protecting us from the unwanted elements that were a part of our lives. For half of the year Tsubar is a huge pail blue disk slowly migrating across the day. But as he rises later and later he becomes increasingly more powerful. His blue hue fades to a bright white and soon he lights our nights. The torrid storm clouds that that whip through his atmosphere perform a dance familiar to me every evening. As is the cycle of life, soon the sun catches up with him and we know that its days are now numbered. Day by day the sun approaches. When our sun completely disappears behind the great planet our skies are darkened. These are the nine days of Tsubar. They are the Andorian New Year. This period of time, this cycle between eclipses, is just over three standard years and for nine days during the eclipse Fesoan becomes cold and stormy. The average temperature plummets 40 degrees across the planet. Many Andorians and Aenar become depressed during this time but I think of it as a time of renewal and rebirth. Every Con Tsubar, which is what we call it and roughly translates to Tsubar's Rule, I follow an ancient tradition of cleansing and spend the days at a beach in the warmth of the waters there. I prefer the Sea of Hoshi probably because it was where I grew up. As an adult, however, I have spend many Con Tsubars in the glamorous island cities of Deonis with my family. The islands are usually warmer during these days because they are surrounded by the ocean and the ocean has retained its warmth from the long summer suns. By human standards, even the blistering heat of a summer on Andor is frigid and cold to that race. I am Aenar and we prefer the warmer more stable climes. My family, however, were not as affluent as I would have preferred and so I led a sheltered life in the City-caves of North Umbregal where we get heat from the internal warmth of the planet. We are by nature an extremely reclusive race and so life in caves is really not a far stretch for us. Also, many of us do not have vision; our eyes are much too sensitive to the wavelengths one assumes to be standard. It is not that we cannot see rather that we see too much. It is actually painful for us and over the many passed milleniums we have learned to block it out entirely for fear of insanity. I, Kyron Dansit, am a rarity among my people and proud of it. Perhaps it is due to a strong will or just a freak of nature but I can control and maintain my visual perceptions much the same as the Andorian or other human life forms. It makes me some what of an outcast with my people but it isn't as if I had asked to be this way. My immediate family understands however I am not welcome in extended family gatherings and have spent much of my learning years alone with my link-pad exploring other worlds, imaginary or not so imaginary. This was my only comfort, to learn of other cultures and races, to know that being different was not dangerous or even unpleasant. It is simply, different. It was once thought that I was a product of interracial breeding. This has been practiced since I can remember although most Aenar find it repulsive. It has be found that the majority of offspring between the Aenar and Andor have a greenish flesh. Some have unique birth markings of Andorian blue or Aenarian white. Green, however, is usually their dominate skin tone. Mine is most definitely pearly white, even pink in places. There is not one hint of green or Andorian blue anywhere on my body. I've checked... Not out of vanity, but assurance of my sanity. I have looked at every inch of me be certain. My hair is reddish brown and my eyes are like ekrl gems, green within green which also differs from my bretheren. However, there is no trace of Andorian blood within me and the elders could find no trace of residual Andorian memories either. Of course, they could not (or would not) see that my flesh was as white as theirs. Alas, I was different and due to that fact I have been considered other-than-aenar. And so as Con Tsubar approaches I find myself travelling again but this time it is for real. Two weeks ago I had contacted an offworlder named Susan Blake and she had some very interesting things to say. I am going to meet her in the Fesoan City of Poldar on the island of Deonis. I have been there before. It is probably the largest city on Andor and definitely one with frequent offworlder visitors. I believe that there is even a terran embassy somewhere although I have never had a need to seek it out. Perhaps this is to be my destiny, a life in Star Fleet, aboard a great starship traveling the galaxy. I have read quite a bit about this organization and the United Federation of Planets. It is common knowledge as we had been a member for nearly two centuries, but I have done extended research as well. The Aenar in general, however, tend to shy away from direct contact with the offworlders. We gathered most of our information from the minds of the Andorian. It was an alien culture; they were all aliens with many customs that are just... er... different from our own. Many of our elders are agast by some of these behaviors and we preferred to remain recluse. Alas, I am different but I rarely speak my mind aloud or otherwise. I have had fantasies as a young woman though, dancing with dark strangers on distant worlds. I often dreamed about what it would be like to travel the heavens and visit other cultures first hand. I never imagined that it would really happen to me. We could hardly afford the k-prime education required much less the housing costs while I learned. Susan, however, knew of a short-cut, had offered a fast track that I could take. This is what had peaked my interest in our sub-space conversation. The Federation had always been curious about our race and very few of us have ever remained outside of the collection for very long. Their fates were varied and most simply returned to Fesoan and retreated into the hive-culture. They did not even shared their experiences for fear of rejection. That part of their minds was slowly erased and buried, repopulated with traditional soup. What Susan was offering was a chance to join Star Fleet as a civilian, travel with them and help them to understand and negotiate agreements with other cultures. Unlike the Betazed, our mental capacities could reach out beyond a local environment and across light-years of empty void. They are also different, so am have learned than the Betazed and other races akin to them. Without a frame of reference its difficult to describe our senses but I guess they are similar by comparison to vision that speaks. This is why Star Fleet has been interested in our race. Our telepathy can go beyond words and cultural barriers and visit the very essense of souls. Well I guess I have to cut this log short because we are nearing the harbour were I will catch the next vessel traveling to Deonis. It is quite a long journey traveling alone. The last time I came I was with my brother. He provided a buffer between the realm of the Aenar collection and the vast populous in the Andorian metropolis. But I have been focusing my thoughts as he had taught me and I got to say that it's not all that bad. I could get used to walking among the multitude of mental traffic and refraining from direct interaction. It was actually relaxing to be able to sit back and watch the show for a change. Well, I hope this is a good enough introduction, Susan. I hope it was what you had requested. Honestly, I am not used to vocallizing my mood like this. It is just not something that we do, or have to do, wile within the Aenar collection. I know that you don't completely understand, but suffice it to say, what you have proposed is very intriguing to me and I look forward to meeting you in person soon. Kyron Densit, Deonis, Summer of 2385
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Hi All... I'm back... I guess I'm gonna have to pass the Academy once again. Just so everyone is aware, this is STILL Pete (Sal). I have just chosen a different character to portray. Kyron Densit is a rare breed in more ways that genetic. She is from a race of which there is little known (at least in Federation terms). The Aenar are a race who share habitation of Fesoan (Andor) with the Andorians. The are usuallly albino and blind. Kyron is not, but she still retains the unique abilities of the Aenar. She can see into your soul, so be careful around her (LOL). She has a full cover story and background that I will provide to the GM of the Advanced Sim who picks here up. There are some special considerations for her joining a crew, however. I will also present these considerations to the GM before acceptance. Anyway, it's good to be back. I hope to get started again this weekend... pete (aka Sal... aka Kyron)
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Sal cupped his tea and slowly walked over to the lounge area where the cushions had barely been used in the last couple of days. There was some trash that another crewmember had left lying on the table and he set his tea down, scooped up the rubbish and placed it in the recycler. He had learned long ago that the old adage of 'Another man's treasure' was always in full enforcement onboard any starship. Matter was matter no matter what. Also, he was a bit of a neat-freak and most of his crewmates had seemed to be less than that. He took no offense to this, knowing that it was mostly his preference that drove his tidiness. He continued his dissertation without missing a beat on the Zoalus culture. "The Zoalus must have been an extremely religious people. Not that they were idol worshippers, might you. They believed that philosophical thinking began with the subject—not merely the thinking subject, but the acting, feeling, living individual. In existentialism, the individual's starting point is characterized by what has been called "the existential attitude" or a sense of disorientation and confusion in the face of an apparently meaningless or absurd world." He noticed Pher's eyes begin to glaze over, "What I mean is, they believed in themselves. The experience that I had encountered in that rotunda was extremely profound. I was shown things about myself that I had never realized existed. I knew deep in my thoughts however that everything was true. Like the love for my wife and daughter even though they are many light-years away. I felt and still feel their omnipresence. "This makes me believe that the Zoalus were also a peaceful race. There was no evidence of conflict with themselves or any other race. They were or probably thought themselves to be very alone in the universe. He thought a moment and then asked, "So tell me about this goo that lives. And the others that you had found down there...." "The goo that lives. I've seen it, I think, in two forms. In its pure form it is a a thick black substance, somewhere between a oil and a paste. They seemed to be growing it in a pit. During the tail end of the fight it grew tentacles, and seemed to be reaching out to grab at us. It never succeeded, so I can't judge the strength with which it moves. I believe we have a sample of it. Anyway, it was aware enough to attack, which implies at least an animal intelligence. "It also seems to live inside hosts. Audrey, loop life energy scans from just before the recent fight on the planet." Pher settled in next to Sal, and twisted her wrist so he could see Audrey's display. "Ethan and the three Rainmakers were weak, showing low life signs and looking visibly ill. Their complexions were dark for their respective races, and their veins showed the same sort of black tint you'd expect of the goo. I'm assuming that larger life forms can be infected by goo; that it reproduces inside other life form's bodies somehow. "Towards the end, as negotiations turned into threats and demands, their leader started to posture like a villain in a kid's adventure show. I was half expecting mutant super powers, but if so said power doesn't include immunity from large chunks of metal hitting him at high speed. I walked in with my phaser barrel powered down to indicate peaceful intent, but a solid round in the slug thrower barrel. I don't know. I was pretty spooked at that point, and might have been imagining things. I do have some sense of scientific curiosity, and a professional interest of sorts in mutant super powers, but there are limits as to how far I give my curiosity free reign before my weapon goes off." Pher sighed. "If I allow my imagination and paranoia to flow freely, I can come up with explanations for a lot. The goo might be infectious and deadly, the cause for the demise of the large land based animals on Zoalus. The unmodified drones running around killing large land based animals might be some sort of defense against the goo, eliminating the disease by killing all the patients. The Rainmakers might be here as anything that clears a planet of animal life forms would make a great terrorist weapon. The origin of the goo? Don't know. Experiment went wrong? Doomsday weapon? It Came From Outer Space? If what you said about the Zoalus avoiding conflict is true, I'd lean towards it coming from the outside. Perhaps the geeks can tell us more when they get a sample to the lab. I'm guessing there was an alien invasion a long time ago, and both sides lost. Just a guess." Sal had thought he'd become immune to the wiles of the Orion. The many years he had spent in service had honed him and he was always keen to their ways. Somehow, this moment was different. He sipped his tea and listened to the woman he'd been distancing back in his mind as she spoke of the black substance, the mysterious lifeform they had encountered on the surface. Sal's scientific mind was lured by its physiology but Sal, the man, was more interested in Pher, the woman. He wasn't sure that his attraction had become obvious to her as she spoke of 'guns blazing' and 'barrels hot'. This wasn't his gig and yet he had succumbed to her seemingly unintentional advances. He struggled to concentrate and focus on her comments and not her unmistakable beauty. He hadn't been with a woman since he'd left K'Normia and Harry and he'd just assumed that since they (his wife and he) had no issues with that respect that he would not have to fall back on techniques he'd learned back in Star Fleet; techniques that numbed one's animal behaviors. "True? My dear, it is merely a theory. We can only speculate on the demise of the Zoalus civilization at this point. If this black goo is everything you say it is then it could very well have lead to a self-sacrifice of the Zoalus people in an effort to cleanse their society of a wide spread disease. They might not have been fully aware of the goo's sentient status until it was too late. And perhaps that was its intentions from the beginning, from the moment that it had found Zoalus." He looked into the Orion's eyes and followed them as they examined the content of her cup and then slowly rose to meet his. Sal wasn't staring or at least he didn't believe that he was. Yet, he was clearly disinterested in the topic of conversation; more interested in his own masculine agenda. This was the first time that he could recall that the two of them had ever been alone and in a relaxed environment. It was oddly comforting to him and he eased back into the sofa, crossed his legs and forced himself to continue. "So, in your opinion, this is some kind of parasitic lifeform that forms a symbiotic relationship with its host. That is not unreasonable. In my years spent with the Federation, we had encountered several races of similar circumstances. There are also records of strange lifeforms that thrive on emotional energies as if they were tangible. "Tell me, did the conscious Rainmakers seem to be controlled by the goo? Did they show any sign of internal conflict when they spoke to you?" Sal knew that the Rainmakers were not known for their peace-loving benevolence but he was curious whether they were simply swayed or completely overcome by the goo. She had said that their appearance seemed weakened which would lead him to believe that the symbiosis process was most likely still in an incubation stage of development. If this were indeed a sentient lifeform, then it would be unlikely that it would drain all of the life-force from its host. It would need the host for its own survival, he reasoned. "What I am most curious about is whether it is truly a disease or a sentient form of life, Pher. There are thousands of diseases that have displayed animal-like behaviors while attacking yet their attacks were indiscriminant, without emotion or intent. It was simply a knee-jerk reaction of the virus in an effort to survive and replicate. A virus is not self-aware and one cannot let themselves believe that they are. Just think of where modern medicine would be today if we fell into this trap, followed the rabbit down that little hole..." "That's right. Stay skeptical. I'll just say that the vat full of goo stayed pretty much quiet until the humanoids started giving us orders, then attacked. The impression that I got was that the goo responded to some form of prompting, and that it can tell friend from foe, but that was a quick assumption of the worst under fire. It seemed like a good time to assume the worst. So long as you start out taking precautions like I might be right, I don't mind being proven wrong. Please do, in fact." "Hmm..." Sal replied, "I think I might just pay a visit to Ethan and the good doctor after we're underway. I would like to see the stuff and its effects for my self. As for the Zoalus, I am afraid that we have merely added to their mysterious past and uncovered little for history to record. I think a true fully-funded expedition backed by the Federation is in order. That's the only way we are ever going to get to their truth." Sal was saddened by the statements that he'd made and rose from his seat. "Speaking of which, I should probably find out exactly where the captain intends to go. Being the navigator of this vessel, I finally have related work to do."
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Sal was completely unaware of the rainmaker card. That didn't stop him from being very curious about exactly who might be behind the reprogramming of the drones. He had studied their behavior and weighed it against the pieces of the puzzle that was the Zoalus culture. The drones emulated the Zoalus, at least, he thought, two of the archetypal characters seemed to dominate their pschycology. Originally, the primordial core, was based upon MOTHER. They were nurturing and caregiving. The outer shell of the modified ones was most definitely WARRIOR; seeking out and destroying all opposed. They were tactful and deceptive. The battle that raged inside those automaton brains must have been tremendous. But obedience had been absolute which is indistinguishably robotic, programmatic... logic.... As many Vulcans have learned, logic is the beginning of wisdom... not its end. So, who was behind the reprogramming and more importantly, why? What was the motive? Something boiled to the top of Sal's conscious that he had not considered before. 'What if it was the Zoalus? What if THEY had reprogrammed the drones? Survival? From what?'