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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Well, I certainly understand.
I appreciate your situations. I shall patiently wait.
Tann, if you look at the times in the last post from me, you are a couple of hours ahead of the other party.
Posted on 2017-05-29 at 22:48:49.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: I've no objections.
As a matter-of-fact, I'm very appreciative towards you and your willingness to resurrect Rocinante. I am also thrilled to have the ladies joining us again and getting Sam Dash back is thrilling. Can't wait.
Posted on 2017-05-29 at 22:40:52.
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Hi.
I thought I'd introduce myself. I'm the GM. I'm supposed to be running a game here.
Posted on 2017-05-28 at 20:32:56.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Well, what's not to like?
I loved the 'Verse, the ship, and the crew. The relationships and such. Captain Sung is one of my favorite characters and your storytelling is fantastic!
Posted on 2017-05-28 at 20:21:02.
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Topic: Star Trek: Discovery - Q&A
Subject: Now I know why Olan never brought Discovery back!
You were shipping around the script for a new television series.
Posted on 2017-05-27 at 21:13:56.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Shiny.
Need you ask?
Posted on 2017-05-27 at 21:10:44.
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Topic: Memorial Day
Subject: Amen.
Absolutely.
Posted on 2017-05-27 at 15:21:16.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: My biggest disappointment is...
The platform upon which it will be aired. $10/month to watch and I already pay for other services (like you said). For one show? I'd have a hard time justifying that even for 4-5 episodes a month no matter how good it is.
Posted on 2017-05-26 at 15:47:06.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: I'm full of hot air...
I'll huff and puff and fill all the sails...
Posted on 2017-05-26 at 15:20:43.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: I'm hopeful.
But that's about it. I've liked what they've done with the new movies but feel that they are missing a core element of traditional Star Trek in the characters facing moral dilemmas and such. I like the actors in Discovery and the production looks flawless. But, we'll see.
Posted on 2017-05-26 at 14:06:26.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Adding Medical to the shuttles
Stardate 2365.02.11 (Thursday - 42143.
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Main Bridge - 11:07
A blustering Jacobs hurls a final, venom-loaded threat at Drake before cutting communications. In the moment that the viewscreen darkens, between the transmission's end and the return to Peregrine's fore view, Lt Zai's fingertips tap the CONN invoking the intercept course.
Lt. Asovil Sh'iraolnas blinks away the blur that is obstructing her console. Are we really going to fire on another Starfleet vessel? In all of her limited experience, the highly intelligent Andorian cannot recall a time when she's heard of ships from the same contingent going at odds, let alone being a part of it. Righteous indignation at the affronts spat to her captain's face and the implications concerning the whole ship conflict with the rigid alignment of her strict and lawful mind. On one hand, she strongly desires the opportunity to face Captain Jacobs across an Ushaan arena with the ushaan-tor between them. On the other, she feels fear clawing its way from deep down in her soul through her insides and up into her stomach at the thought of just how much trouble they could all be facing due to this action. Pink and moist, the tip of her tongue touches her dry, dark blue lips as scenes of a court martial play through her mind. Only the shudder down her spine brings her back to reality just as Captain Drake muses, "It's too bad that a penal colony is too good for me. I was just thinking how Tantalus is supposed to be so lovely at this time of year."
"The stockade on Jaros II is more likely, if Captain Jacobs has his way," the Trill offers in the same offhand manner and Asovil feels even less comfort by the cavalier way in which the man joins in the banter. "We can hope for a room on the east wing, though."
"Captain," Dio inserts with a feeling of pride in his leader. "The Coronado's shields are at full capacity, strong to the bow. Her phaser banks are charged."
"Tochi," Drake says, "put us on an intercept course with the Coronado, get us between her and the Kuldar,"
"Aye, sir," the Trill responds quickly, engaging the impulse engines, "Already done. Moving to intercept. Full impulse."
As the Captain relates further orders to Tactical, Tochi relays some orders of his own to Flight Control. "Lt. Zai to Flight Ops," he says, waiting only for the faint blip of an acknowledgement, "Deploy Heavy-Zero-One; combat support."
=/=Affirmative, Lieutenant,=/= comes the response even as the Type-10 soars out of the shuttlebay, =/=En route.=/=
"Keep an eye on Owen, Kook," Tochi adds.
=/=Of course, sir. As long as she doesn't get too bouncy, that should be easy enough,=/=
=/=Oi!=/= Megan pipes in, =/=I c'n hear th' lot o' ye!=/=
"Zai out," Tochi smirks, closing the channel and drawing down the impulse engines as they near the intercept coordinates.
"Lieutenant Lasad, open hailing frequencies, please," Drake orders. "Full broadcast."
"Aye, sir," Dio engages the commands. "Channel open."
Silas proceeds with a commanding address. "Attention, all vessels in the Gamera system. This is Commander Silas Drake of the USS Peregrine. We have every reason to believe that the attack by the cloaked vessel was a ruse meant to sow chaos and disrupt the peace process. We have contained this situation, and will obtain full answers shortly. Until further notice, all vessels are hereby ordered to power down their weapons and hold their current positions. Any aggressive acts will be viewed as acts of war meant to undermine the peace process, and will be handled accordingly. Again, I repeat—all vessels are hereby ordered to power down their weapons and hold their current positions until further notice. Drake out."
"Communications ended, Captain," Dio reports and jumps into repeat scans of all vessels to ensure that Drake's orders are followed.
Tochi draws in a slow breath as he turns the Peregrine back toward the Coronado and the older, larger ship comes into view on the screen. He imagines, in that moment, that on the other ship's bridge, Lt. Cmdr. Farr is making some headway into convincing her Captain to stand down, Doubtful, he muses resignedly, but we can hope,
"Maybe we'll get rooms in the east wing..." Tochi Zai mutters.
"Captain," Lt. Asovil turns about at her station and stands rigidly awaiting acknowledgement. Once received, she continues. "Permission to utilize the target coordinates provided by Mr. Berk for a controlled series of quickfire tachyon beams upon the Coronado should she not cease and desist. Provided they haven't transferred shield strength to the targeted area, the beams could help reduce the shield's strength."
"The Kuldar and Rytain ships are not powering down, Captain," Lasad reports, eyes still intent on the screen before him. "But all are holding position."
Turning to look at Silas, Dio offers, "It would appear that they aren't so convinced we are willing to stop Captain Jacobs, sir."
Watching the whole proceedings, PO Zheng is still pondering the implications behind Captain Jacobs' slip of the word ‘demands.' If Jacobs is working on orders from Starfleet, and there's more to this picture than what meets the eye, the petty officer is fairly certain that Captain Drake would be informed. However—the shrewd mind of the security man continues to mull possibilities over—if Starfleet Intelligence thought that there could be a security leak within the Captain's inner circle they might have arranged to keep him in the dark for fear of compromising the true mission. That could very well explain the series of transfers and strange circumstances leading up to the onset of the mission.
Peering at Ambassador D'Lar from the corner of his eye Da takes in the concern practically swimming in the alien's eyes and the way he perches on the balls of his feet, arms hanging loosely at his side, hands clenching and unclenching repeatedly. Reading the body language of alien species is challenging, but Zheng has been amongst the stars for some time now and has learned that even though biologies might be different, certain aspects of Life can draw out similar behaviors. Concluding that D'Lar is very concerned with the outcome of this engagement is simple. Figuring out the reasons behind his concern, therein lies the challenge.
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Stardate 2365.02.11 (Thursday - 42143.7)
USS Peregrine; Deck 4 - Sickbay - 10:58
"All right," Doctor Moore steps out of her office with an authoritative prowl, her accented statement sharply drawing the attention of everyone in sickbay towards her. "Shuttles are being prepared to assist in rescue operations, and to retrieve the injured from the concussed offenders. There will be medical personnel on each of those shuttles to assist in triaging. Let's make it happen, Cook."
A brief nod sent the way of her commanding officer, Dana Cook turns to the medical personnel and barks out, "Adama, Bachmann, Toriak; off with you now, and don't embarrass us!"
Various replies are given and the three nurses immediately snatch up their medical bags on the way out of sickbay. Running, they achieve the shuttle bay just in time.
"We've been assigned to join the shuttles," Adama declares to CPO Yasuo once he catches the Asian man's attention.
"Then," Seto smiles, "You better hurry."
"Bachmann," Adama begins running for the nearest light shuttle. "Take the other light. Toriak, you've got the heavy."
The two nurses do not waste their breath in reply as they follow orders." Within moments, all three medical personnel are aboard their various shuttlecraft, hearts racing and anticipation overflowing, except Crewman Toriak who sits calmly buckled to his chair, medical bag grasped coolly in his lap.
Posted on 2017-05-25 at 18:34:57.
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Topic: Roll Call
Subject: This is me...
I am here. Always have been, always will. I currently run the active CyberPunk game and am participating heavily in the Star Trek game. Aside from that, I'm a shadow of what I once was as far as activity is concerned and ever hopeful that I'll be able to one day dedicate more time.
Posted on 2017-05-25 at 12:53:57.
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Awesome.
Looking forward to it.
Posted on 2017-05-24 at 10:05:50.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: I have been writing a training manual...
I've been rewriting a training manual for a week-long class that we're holding the first week of June. I too am an egg that has been cracked, dropped in butter, and cooked on high heat in the skillet. I will attempt to write something tomorrow.
I have posted.
Posted on 2017-05-23 at 19:11:49.
Edited on 2017-05-25 at 18:37:48 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Thank you for letting me know...
I appreciate the heads-up, you two.
Posted on 2017-05-22 at 08:50:39.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: So...
Who do we have actually playing still?
Posted on 2017-05-19 at 10:15:07.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Dang!
That sucks.
I can help with the medical department as well, if needed. I assume that Toriak will be assigned one of the shuttles as potential triage. I'll write something up of the sort.
Posted on 2017-05-18 at 12:35:15.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Boo has left!?
Wha—?!
Posted on 2017-05-18 at 10:39:03.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: And a lute!
Don't forget the instrument.
Posted on 2017-05-17 at 17:39:50.
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Here's the long and short of it...
Thank you to all players who posted. It helps me feel like I'm not playing this game by myself.
All right, Tann, I've explained the situation Casino is in rather well in the game progression. If you have any questions, feel free to fire them my way. The challenge we face now is that Casino is a full hour ahead of the rest of the team and... well, the team is in combat and I don't know who survives yet. Makes for an interesting game master dilemma but nothing for you to worry about. Just make the decision that you think Casino would make and write it up. Boss Blood really has no ties to Casino anymore, but at least she doesn't hate him.
As for the rest of you... well, Ghlahn has a choice to make, but he's just about the only one who isn't facing immediate threat of bodily harm.
I look forward to seeing your actions.
Oh, by the way, Echo and Vegas both had to spend a Creative Currency to re-roll botched initiative checks.
Posted on 2017-05-17 at 17:32:42.
Edited on 2017-05-17 at 17:42:08 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
Subject: All Steam Ahead!
Night City Regional General Hospital, Exterior Parking Lot | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 3:10 AM PST
Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)
Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)
Once away from any police sight he turns his calm walk into a more speedy movement just short of a run looking for a public agent station. Though he has two agents in his pocket, picked up from the corpses of those fools who had attacked him, both are locked and not accessible as of yet. If he can find a working public agent, he can get help.
Never stopping, he passes a number of public agent stations only to find them either without a screen or in such disrepair that Casino decides to avoid them altogether. Finally, when he is easily six blocks from the hospital, he finds one in workable condition. Stepping up to the booth, he frowns as the bars overhead that had contained an awning at one point do nothing to stop the deluge of cold rainwater drenching him and streaking the touchscreen of the twenty-five point four centimeter wide by twenty centimeter tall device. Fishing a five-spot Night City Dollar bill from his pant pocket, the imposing man feeds the wet chip-encoded paper into the payment box below the agent—a slick computer that takes the bill, waits for the allotted time to be used and then shreds the bill, but processes the information in the datachip for the appropriate currency transfer—and pauses before accepting the Terms of Use agreement and pulling up the phone interface.
Public agents are commonplace throughout the city, hooked up to city-provided, megacorp ran net services. They aren't secure and are generally easy to hack, but seeing how Casino is in a bit of a bind, it's his only option. Pain rolls through his arm and shoulder in an undertone of barely contained heat waves as red-tinted rainwater drips off his relaxed fingertips. He considers his options while attempting to forget his injuries.
There's Southern Belle, but she's not exactly keen on the monolithic solo since he and Vegas gave a lesson to a rockerboy she'd stepped out with. Besides, it's been years, If Raquel still lived she would be the one he would contact, hands down. Keith still harbors strong feelings for her. Even now, standing in the rain feeling a dull pain subdued by technology, he can practically taste her skin on his lips. But, as is always the case, the image of her body hanging in the apartment building hall, backlit to hide the bulging eyes and swollen tongue, chases the happy thoughts away. Suicide takes some of the best away far too soon.
His options are so slim; a direct consequence of his line of work. With his angry feelings towards Vegas still coursing through his veins, he's left with three choices: attempt to get in touch with Starlight and see if she has any direction or assistance for him, swallow his pride and reach out to Boss Blood in the hopes that her price won't be too high considering their history, or stow his anger at his partner until after the run and reach out to Vegas.
A blue field flashes impatiently on the grimy, wet public agent screen. The words of the usage agreement still flashing before him, his acceptance desired before continuing service. Five NCDs will grant him ten minutes of use. Change is issued when he logs out in the form of a public agent credit slip for any time he hasn't used. The five spot was his lowest denomination of bill. It's time to make a decision. Pressing the "ACCEPT" button, Casino engages the phone screen.
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West 43875 St. 52 High -- The Bartholomew School Grounds and Sewage/Runoff Drainage System | Night City Integrate | High City | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 4:06 AM PST
Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)
Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)
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Ghlahn watches the sec teams search and it is obvious they have found something, but there is no way for him to know what it is that they found. After a quick sweep with their lights, the combined teams turn and head back towards the building. Without knowing whether or not the rest of his crew is safely inside, the sniper is once again faced with a familiar choice. He takes aim through his scope and watches the progress of the sec team. If they get too close to his companions he will have little choice but to eliminate them and he has a precious small window of opportunity to provide that overwatch protection before they vanish behind the protruding field building wall.
Relying upon Blossom and Fixer to utilize their abilities to gain access to the school records, Vegas stays vigilant as he takes a position as much out of the line of sight of unwanted observers as is humanly possible in these close quarters. His back is against brick wall, to his right extends the glass wall separating the hall from the administration office, and a few meters away is the locked door to that very office section.
Blossom crouches near Fixer, her glistening wet, black trench coat splayed out about her across the tiled floor, hanging from beneath her heavy smartbag like a cloak of shadow. Diminutive and mysterious, the Asian woman seems intent on the techie's actions but offers no assistance. Vegas can see one bare knee from his vantage and a shapely bit of thigh above it.
Silence commands attention here. Edgerunners' breathing and the small, barely audible digital ticking of Fixer's device are all that is heard. Bloodbank holds no delusions that they are safely past any danger, though. The medtech is far past that feeling of adrenaline that comes from working in the shadows and is now starting to feel the wear and tear of being on high alert for so long. Blinking away the desire to sleep, he peers out through his mask at his companions and wonders how they are doing.
As the team's medic, it is his duty to make sure they are all in full operational mode. From where he stands, just a little further into the hall than Vegas, he can see everyone's face except for Blossom and Fixer. Vegas looks stern, wary, and alert. Fatigue isn't an issue for the well-dressed solo yet. Echo is also wide-eyed and bushy tailed, if you can tell anything from just looking into her eyes, the only part of her features not covered by the balaclava. Maybe, he just needs something to kick up the adrenaline again and he'll be fine.
"I'm in," Fixer reports and Blossom grabs the door as she stands up, pulling it open only to have Echo stop her from bowling herself into the large reception area beyond.
The pretty nomad shakes her head and draws the netrunner back before looking towards the dapper soldier-of-fortune a few paces away. Something Bloodbank doesn't grasp passes between the two and the brown leather-clad woman steps carefully into the office reception space, submachine gun at ready near her cheek. Three steps in and Blossom strolls in with one hand on the white stem of a lollipop, the other tucked into the pocket of her coat.
Fixer is about to follow when the chair to the right of the door melts, the movement catching his eye. Within a second, the form of the chair is no more and the pool of what appears to be liquid metal is rising up from the carpeted floor taking a new shape. Somehow swallowing the immediate sensation of panic he feels at the sight, James Montgomery Mathis also manages to bite back the yell every fiber of his being is trying to force from him. Instead, he hisses to grab the nomad's attention and points.
It's enough.
Blossom is the first to react. Perhaps her speed of decision is born of a familiarity with constructs, or perhaps her nonchalant stroll was nothing but an act. Either way, she spins at her companion's hiss, heavy leather coat dramatically swirling about her bare legs and immediately spots the forming threat.
"It's a construct!" She explains through clenched teeth as she drops her bag and immediately works at unzipping it. "Don't let it touch you."
Her warning probably saves Echo from the thing's attack. Completely formed up, it appears as a giant sheet of metal with flashing red LED lights all about it's exterior. At approximately two point two meters tall, it has enough width to entirely encircle any one of the edgerunners it faces, and it's first target is the lithe woman in the lead wearing riding leathers. Slithering like a snake with amazing speed, the construct devours the carpeted floor between them and strikes while spreading itself wide like a cobra's hood.
Heart thudding in her chest, Elizabeth "Echo" Cooper barely manages to leap backward, the air in front of her masked face snapping like the end of a whip with the technological beast's assault. With her submachine gun in hand, the nomad has a choice now of how to respond.
Just past the copse of trees, the sec-teams split again. Whatever they've found by the trees has given them a new sense of urgency, and they are heading straight towards the direction Ghlahn's fellow edgerunners have gone. The decision must be made now, or the opportunity is forever lost. Will tonight be the night these men lose their lives?
Posted on 2017-05-17 at 17:26:10.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: I have posted.
Dio has an interesting little tidbit to add...
Posted on 2017-05-17 at 14:14:20.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Words as Weapons
Stardate 2365.02.11 (Thursday - 42143.
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Main Bridge - 11:02
Asovil's insides churn in anticipation as Lt. Lasad delivers the heart-wrenching news that the first volley fails. Forty-eight percent, keeps running through her head and she turns to look at the viewscreen as hope for the second volley buoy's her soul. Lieutenant Lasad's calm voice delivers news on her last hope.
"Second volley, bearing zero-seven-point-two-one mark one-six-point-three-three, distance three-two-five-zero-three-seven kilometers, results... negative." He sighs and then catches a new reading. "Wait! Something's happening."
Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas' antenna perk up and she rolls forward a bit to the balls of her small booted feet. Excitement permeates the air about her like an electrical charge as the Ops Officer continues his report.
Adjusting the scan strength by dragging the bars in the controls covering the search for survivors down and raising the bars in the torpedo sensor bank, Dio feels his heart speed its rhythm. "It's her. The Stormspike! She's decloaking. Coordinates, zero-seven mark one-eight-point-two, distance three-two-five-zero-three-six-point-seven.
"Captain," Dio looks up and meets Silas' eye. "She's adrift. Engines are off-line as are a number of their major systems. Life support appears to be failing as we speak. There are fewer than five life signs on board and they're weak."
Releasing her breath, Asovil swallows the anticipation as a great lump that rolls down her elegant throat. She has accomplished something not yet done in Starfleet's history. She has discovered a way to locate a cloaked vessel. Visions of her old officer's respectfully acknowledging her contribution begin to stream into her brain forcing her to take immediate action to avoid basking in the success. She has accepted her assignment aboard the Peregrine and now, she has taken ownership of it. Turning back to her console, the CSO feels confident that she has cemented her value to the ship. Now is not the time to let all of that go to waste, she tells herself and sets about adjusting her scan for new coordinates. Best to make sure that the Stormspike is the only cloaked ship in the vicinity.
The Captain's face remains stoic, despite the glee he feels inside. "What about her shields and weapons?" Silas asks.
Lasad shakes his coiffed head, a look of resolved sorrow on his handsome face. "All offline, sir."
A chirp on his station monitor draws Lasad's attention back to the screen. "I'm also in receipt of a coded transmission that appears to have come from the Stormspike, sir. I'll work at decoding it."
Are they sending out a distress call to their fellows? he wonders and activates the computer's deciphering protocol. Dragging the encoded message over the box bracketed by two orange braces that appears, Dio releases the message into the process. It is certainly short enough to be an S.O.S., or maybe even a call to arms,
"Excellent work," Captain Drake states simply.
Now, the question of who had sent this attacking vessel can finally be answered. With his current orders, Drake cannot exactly fly the Peregrine directly to the Stormspike to forcibly beam her surviving crew aboard, but he is also not prepared to simply ignore them.
"Lieutenant Berk," he orders, "send a six person security team to Shuttlebay One. Have them take a type eight shuttle and fly to the Stormspike. They can beam survivors out one at a time in order to properly secure them. If the Stormspike brings her weapons back online, they may fire upon her. I would greatly prefer that the crew be taken alive, however."
((OOC: assuming an affirmative response from Berk))
Asovil concludes her scan of nearby space and offers, "Subsequent scans of dark matter have not turned up any indication of additional cloaked vessels, sir." Part of her feels a little robbed of additional glory, but she assuages the emotion by being grateful for her recent success.
Try the Partha Dasgupta Method, Dio suggests to himself as the Crux Cipher Method fails. A couple of touches of the screen puts the proven deciphering process to work.
Glancing at the remaining ambassador, PO Zheng does his best to read the expression on the alien face. He is looking for any sign of concern, worry over the fate of those on the Stormspike would indicate some collusion and Da refuses to be caught flat-footed in his duty. If he can determine an affiliation before possible action taken by the delegate, he might be able to stop potential action that could harm the Peregrine and the Bridge crew. So far, the scaly-skinned dignitary seems genuinely interested in the screen, his craggy features unreadable. I wish I knew more about these Kuldar, he silently muses, the familiar stippling of the phaser handle pressing into the heel of his right hand.
Drake examines the sensor data once again. Every time he considers the issue, the more convinced he becomes that the Kuldar truly are not behind this attack. "Dio, hail the Coronado, please."
"Aye, sir," Dio nearly starts, having become engrossed in his deciphering work. Tapping the burnt umber-hued button in the upper right quadrant of his screen, the COO submits the request to connect over to the Ops station on board the Coronado and almost immediately receives approval. "On screen."
Momentarily, the surly face of Captain Jacobs fills the viewfinder. "What do you want, Mister Drake?" the CO of the Coronado queries in a disinterested tone.
This will be interesting, Lasad muses and returns his attention to the problem of the coded message. He'll hear whatever he needs to and can keep working at providing them with an answer to so many questions this communication raises.
From her station, Asovil feels an immediate dislike surge through her core at Captain Jacobs' tone. Were we on an Andorian vessel, Captain Drake would have every right to challenge Jacobs to a duel. Just a few days on board the Peregrine and she has to admit that she already feels a loyalty to her fellow officers and crew. The realization causes her lips to dip in consideration. She has been around humans too long, she concludes. She is starting to become as quick to association as they are. Passing her hand over the screen, she submits a request to Ops to take over the scanning for survivors. At least she can be doing something useful while the captains sort this out.
Ignoring the continued slight, Silas responds. "Sir, we have disabled the Stormspike. I strongly believe that it would be far more prudent to capture her remaining crew, and thus prove who his behind this attack, than it would be to complete an attack run of our own at this time."
Jacobs sneers. "You think so, do you? I think that would be a waste of valuable time. Did you know, Mister Drake, that above and beyond the Federation lives that have been lost—those who you seem to assign so little value to—that the majority of the Rytain diplomatic staff aboard the Coronado have been murdered in an explosion? Stop bothering me with your trivialities and begin your attack. Jacobs ou..."
Hands ball into fists at his side and Silas cuts the superior officer off, "SIR! This situation is not as simple as it seems. I cannot abide an attack on innocents; this act will ensure failure of our mission. I implore you, sir—delay the attack run long enough for us to investigate."
And, Dio presses his lips together. Three words and the middle word is ‘and.' He glances up at the arguing captains and then returns his eyes to the screen. Decreasing the common letter portion of the algorithm, he advances the common word association section. Two words combined by the conjunction, and, come on, computer. Time is of the essence.
Jacobs' face grows even colder than usual, "If we break the attack run now, Mister Drake, the enemy vessels will be better able to organize, or may choose to escape. A decisive victory here will force the Kuldar to capitulate to our demands."
Demands??? Drake's face is incredulous.
Da can't help but recognize the use of the word and the momentary surprise that registers on Ambassador D'Lar's face as he, too, realizes what has just been said. This fellow doesn't let anything slip past him, the security crewman observes and then shifts his weight to be in a better position to act if necessary. But the alien doesn't intrude on the interaction, a sly narrowing of the eyes and a tilt of the head the only other indication that D'Lar is fully aware of the situation unfolding before him.
"Really, Commander," Jacobs continues. "I have made no secret of my doubts as to your fitness to command. But cowardice in the face of the enemy? Especially such an enemy as this? You surprise me yet again."
Even knowing that the accusations are meritless, Silas feels his cheeks burn, and his ears ring at the slur of "cowardice".
This is not moving fast enough! Lasad clenches his teeth as the weight of the tension in the room bears down on him. Think! What category of words would be appropriate? Farewells? Instruction,? Using his left hand, Dio presses against his temple. We are in battle! We don't have time— Struck by the thought that nearly escaped his grasp, the Ops officer enters in the commands he needs to adjust the scope of reference.
"Phon tal bre'heth," Asovil breathes barely loud enough for her own ears to pick up. Only just able to keep in control of the anger she is feeling at the continued affronts made against her captain, the blue-skinned CSO clenches her jaw and stares stiffly at the console, still waiting on Dio's control access.
Taking a deep breath, the Captain of the Peregrine fights to keep his tone even. "Captain, I must insist that you stop this madness at once. I will not allow you to press this ill advised attack on innocents."
Jacobs snorts, "I honestly do not care what you insist, Mister Drake. This attack run will happen with or without you; there is nothing that you can do to prevent it."
PO Zheng slides forward as Ambassador D'Lar flinches. But the gray-skinned man holds position and so, too, does the security detail assigned him. Whether the dignitary was about to spring into action for the sake of the insults being rushed about, or was inclined to do so out of a sense of urgency to persuade Captain Drake further in his already dangerous course, Da isn't sure.
Silas stands in response. Back ramrod straight, iron in his voice, he speaks with authority, "Captain Joshua Jacobs, I find your judgment to be critically impaired to the point of endangering our mission. By the authority invested in me by the United Federation of Planets, I hereby remove you from command of this mission. You will stand down at once and await further instructions. Please do not force me to place Commander Farr in command of your vessel, as well."
A deafening silence falls over the bridges of both vessels. Drake feels his pulse pounding in his ears.
Asovil cannot help herself and turns about in surprise, full lips slightly parted, eyes wide.
Dio Lasad is also caught up just as his heart skips a few beats at the realization of what Silas has done. His gaze of shock is, perhaps, a little silly looking on the otherwise well-maintained countenance of the Risian.
Yes! Petty Officer Zheng only just refrains from pumping the air with his fist at his captain's bold move. D'Lar's shoulders lower just a bit as he releases the tension contained within. To Da, it appears that the ambassador is relieved.
Jacobs gapes for several moments before taking his own feet. "You insolent cur," he spits in response. "I will relish in your court martial. You cannot remove me from command! Not from this mission, and certainly not from my own ship! How, pray tell, do you propose to enforce your lawless declaration?"
His face a mask of ice, Silas replies. "Sir, the Peregrine greatly outclasses the Coronado in terms of combat effectiveness, even when your vessel is whole. In your current state, if you compel me to the use of force, the encounter will be brief and one-sided. Stand down from the attack run now, sir, and await further instructions. Please do not force me to escalate this situation."
Flashing lights and a small beep extend into the silence that follows Drake's comments, drawing Dio's wide-eyed gaze back to his console. Three words present themselves in the decoding box: Strength and Honor. Strength and Honor? Lasad doesn't immediately register the words as anything other than last words sent out by a crew determined to die honorably, but he knows his duty and looks up from his console with hesitation in his good-looking face.
"Sir," he speaks boldly as he puts himself metaphorically between the two battling rams. "The translation of the coded message is complete. It simply states, Strength and Honor."
Posted on 2017-05-17 at 14:12:40.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: The best...
I went with these two (there are others that are pre-programmed buttons that require apps but these are the main two):
https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.nstenterprises.tltheme.lcars
and
this one needs to be installed first for the other to work:
https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.ss.launcher2
Posted on 2017-05-15 at 12:01:57.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: OK. So...
I'm tots geeking out! I just installed a total of three apps on my phone and ended up with a complete LCARs set up. Here's a screenshot:
Oops... I guess I still had the edit mode on. Anyway. It is way fun!
Posted on 2017-05-15 at 10:40:32.
Edited on 2017-05-15 at 10:41:43 by Bromern Sal
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