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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Bromern Sal
Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: I'm moving things ahead...


I'll post an update tomorrow. Hopefully, Ayrn will have a post in place by then.

Combat is moving slowly, so I'm going to resort to something I've done in the past that works for the most part. From now on, when engaging in combat, I'll ask for each of you to provide me with general actions that will carry your character through most of the combat. It'll look something like this:

Melee Offensive Action: Use martial arts to disarm / disable opponent.


Melee Defensive Action: Use martial arts to defend self while finding a way to retreat to better defensible position.


Short Range Offensive Action: Use .44 Automag with intent to injure, not kill. Targeting the brute with the cyberarm.


Long Range Offensive Action: Use Nomad Rifle to take out the immediate long-range threats. Shoot to kill.

General Defense: Help injured characters retreat to a safe position while offering return fire on the closest enemy using my .44 Automag.


Ayrn, for your character, you could post with programs you'd like to use in various situations.

Posted on 2016-08-17 at 13:59:57.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: That must've been some game of hide and go seek!


All I've got to say is we've some strange people on board this ship!

Posted on 2016-08-16 at 12:35:30.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: What. Just. Happened?


Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday)
USS Peregrine - Science Lab 1, Deck 4 - 1445



He is not at all what Asovil would expect from a chemist. Those she has met in the past have all been steady and even ponderous, a result of working with hazardous materials on a day-to-day basis. Petty Officer Third Class Craig Orvill Rogers is frenetic and possibly a bit ADHD.

He barely holds himself in check as he sits before her, a large man with a thick build and an energy that belies the size. The Andorian has seen this kind of energy in smaller beings, but to witness it in someone of the petty officer's size is more than a bit unnerving. His mop of blond hair is regulation cut, but in disarray. His blue eyes seem closely placed together giving his face a pinched look. The orbs dart about, settling on various spaces that have been emptied with Operations efforts to remove all vestiges of Lt. Tesenblen from the office as though remembering exactly what each item had been. Square is a perfect descriptor for the human male. Square and ready to explode.

"Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice, Mr. Rogers," Asovil finds herself reluctant to be aggressive; a curiosity that she marks as something to return to later. "As the new department head, I'm taking this opportunity to get all of my ducks mowed.

"Tell me, what has been your favorite part of working under Lt. Tesenblen?"

"Ducks in a row," Craig corrects, twisting his hands in an agitated manner just above his lap.

"Pardon?"

"Ducks in a row. You said, ‘Ducks mowed' and that would just be messy. No point in mowing a duck. You mow a lawn, not a duck."

"Well, yes. I suppose that would be silly." The Andorian's antennae twitch with the feeling of anxiety she is developing interacting with this man.

"Freedom."

For the second time in the short duration that this meeting has been in effect, Asovil finds herself on her heels. "Freedom? What?"

"You asked what my favorite part of working under Lt. Tesenblen has been," Craig sniffs and scratches at his extremely square jaw. "Freedom is the answer. I don't care to be micromanaged."

"Lt. Tesenblen allowed you to work free of supervision?" the lieutenant raised her eyebrows in surprise, her antennae mimicking the motion as they perk up. Her opinion is that this man needs constant supervision just as a young child would lest they create messes, or harm.

"Yes. And no. I provided him with reports on my projects, but I work alone and don't, well, I've been told that I don't exactly play nice with others." the petty officer scratches at his scalp further messing his hair.

Asovil stares in surprise at the candor in Craig's statement. "And what are you doing about that, Mr. Rogers?"

"Nothing," he shrugs in acceptance. "I do better on my own."

"Mr. Rogers," Lt. Sh'iraolnas leans forward and takes on a crisp air. "I don't find that acceptable—"

"Doesn't matter," he interjects. "That's how it is. That's how it has always been."

"We operate as a team in this department, Mr.—"

"Sure. But I'll stay in my lab and provide you with reports, and everyone else can work off of my findings. You can provide me with reports from their findings and I'll determine the value of their findings pertaining to my work. It's best that way. You'll see."

Closing her mouth (Asovil realizes she has had it open during his explanation of how he does things), the lieutenant swallows and furrows her brow as she considers the best way to handle the situation. Something deep inside tells her that if she presses the petty officer, he might just become unhinged. His personnel record shows high scores and a number of contributions to some major Federation projects. His preternatural tendencies to be a loner and the pretense that he's far superior to his colleagues suggests otherwise. Taking a breath, the Andorian scientist settles on a course of action.

"I'll review your current projects in greater detail over the next few days, Mr. Rogers," she coldly informs him. "You may have had certain freedoms with Lt. Tesenblen, but that's not how I operate. We'll review your freedoms at greater length—"

"I'm sure you'll find that my freedom to continue my research as I please is in the best interest of Starfleet."

"Petty Officer Rogers," Asovil rises from her chair and settles her tiny fists on the surface of her desk as she leans towards him in frustration. "When I'm talking, you aren't. See how simple that is?"

"Point of fact," Craig raises a finger in protest. "I did speak while you were speaking, but I wasn't just then. So, you are correct."

"Get out!" a finely manicured finger points out the man's path to exit. "We're done for the moment, Mr. Rogers. I suggest you consider your future on board this vessel, because your behavior will determine a great deal over the next short while."

"As will yours, Lieutenant," Craig rises from his chair and smiles pleasantly, an expression that is more unnerving than friendly. "Have a good night."

Asovil is left to stare at his back in shock and dismay as he shuffles out of the room.

"It's no wonder Tesenblen left you alone," she mutters after the door slides shut. Shaking her head in absolute amazement, the lieutenant sinks back into her chair and attempts to gather her thoughts in preparation for the next personnel meeting.

Posted on 2016-08-16 at 12:34:03.
Edited on 2016-08-16 at 12:34:30 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Bad cop...


Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday)
USS Peregrine - Science Lab 1, Deck 4 - 1430

Having already met Crewman Thomas Quinn Petra, Asovil wastes no time in introductions, but basically bullrushes the unfortunate scientist the instant he steps foot into her office.

"Seat yourself, Mr. Petra," Lt. Sh'iraolnas points at one of the two chairs opposite her across the glossy desk. "Move," she adds with a sharp tone when he moves too slowly for her taste.

"Now," instruction is directed at the gangly crewman while the Andorian peruses the PADD she picks up as he lopes across the room to awkwardly plant himself in the chair he'd been assigned. "You've yet to declare your specialty." Asovil looks up at him with a severe gaze. "Do you have no ambition, or are you just uncertain as to your qualifications?"

Thomas' mouth opens and closes multiple times before he realizes that this blue-skinned woman isn't about to offer him relief. Stammering ensues, "I've not yet had the opportunity—"

"Do you mean to tell me that you've not yet taken the opportunity, Mr. Petra?" Shaking her head just enough to cause her white hair to bounce about her shoulders, the lieutenant settles back in her chair and waves the PADD at her subordinate. "Do you know what I see in your records, Mr. Petra?"

"No, sir," Thomas mumbles after realizing she isn't going to continue until he acknowledges the question.

"That doesn't surprise me." Leaning forward, Asovil places the portable computer in front of her and laces her fingers together before it. "You have demonstrated mediocrity in everything you've ever attempted within Starfleet, Mr. Petra. A fact that causes me no small amount of consternation."

"Now, that's not fair, sir," the crewman frowns deeply. "I've done the best I could."

"I don't believe that for a second, Mr. Petra." Watching his pathetic demeanor, the Andorian scientist feels an immense flood of pity wash over her like a warm blanket that calms the shivering skin. Setting her jaw, she fights the urge to tell him everything will be all right and instead, attempts to channel one of her Imperial Guard instructors. "You see? I recognized your lack of personal drive the moment I laid eyes on you, Crewman Petra. You practically sweat it from every pore.

"You hunch over, you shuffle your feet, you play at a ridiculous foolishness so that your superiors don't expect too much of you. Your avoidance of responsibility and lack of achievement is evident within your dossier for any who choose to review it, and how you've managed to achieve a position on a starship with such a tactic is absolutely beyond me.

"I'm going to suggest your transfer at the earliest convenience, Mr. Petra. I've no patience, nor room within my department, for such a lackadaisical approach to one's contribution."

With Crewman Scheuermann, Asovil had pried away at his personal security in an effort to see where his loyalties lay and to determine whether the man had any knowledge of the illegal activities Lt. Tesenblen had been undertaking. With Crewman Petra, she has absolutely no doubt that Lt. Tesenblen would have avoided using him in any area of his work that required competence. Petra is a different problem altogether for the department head. She has to figure out what motivates him, and then she has to apply the motivating factor without impunity.

"Sir! I'm begging—I can't—sir, please!" Thomas grips the edge of her desk with both hands and leans forward imploringly.

"I'm afraid there's nothing more to be done about this, Mr. Petra," Asovil settles back in her chair once more and feigns resignation with another shake of her head, her antennae drooping to emphasize the mood. "Unless,"

"Yes? Unless?" A wide-eyed Thomas presses for hope.

"Unless you were to prove to me that you are capable of excellence," Lt. Sh'iraolnas tilts her head slightly and looks at the desktop. "Although, that would require a lot of dedicated hard work, Mr. Petra. I'm not sure you're up to the task."

"No!" Thomas barks. "I mean, yes! Yes I am. Just don't reassign me, sir."

Asovil takes the time to study the man's worried demeanor for a moment. She's aware that she can't save all of them. Some just aren't cut out for the duty. In this case, she hopes that isn't the case. What she had read in the dossier that made her believe Thomas Petra has potential was simply related to heritage. He's the nephew of a Starfleet Admiral whose sister (Thomas' mother) had passed away when he was a child. Admiral Gardner has been instrumental in every one of Thomas' assignments despite subpar performance.

"You aren't listening to me, Crewman Petra," Asovil tiredly reprimands him, pushing the situation just a little further. "This isn't going to be a gravy boat. You are going to really need to apply yourself in order to maintain your position on my team. Do I make myself clear?"

The misuse of the human reference to a gravy train confuses the man for just a moment, "Absolutely clear, Lieutenant."

"Well then, Mr. Petra." Taking the PADD up in a slow, tired motion, the Andorian pressed a couple of buttons. "Seeing how I show absolutely no leanings towards any of the sciences, I will expect you to have submitted a specialty to Ensign Maize within the next five days. And, Mr. Petra?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Make sure that specialty is something of value to this ship and her crew."

"Yes, sir!"

Posted on 2016-08-15 at 13:04:05.
Edited on 2016-08-15 at 13:08:20 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: I say...


Replicate one.

I apologize that I wasn't able to get a post up this weekend as well. I intend to post today. Asovil has to continue her interviews, after all.

Posted on 2016-08-15 at 11:58:07.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Thank you all...


I appreciate the efforts everyone is making to keep the game flowing. I know that RL sometimes kicks you in the gut. In some cases, it not only kicks you in the gut, it shanks you in the kidney... repeatedly.

Ayrn, we can wait until Wednesday to make a post if you need that time to concoct yours. At the very least, I need to know what programs you're going to use to attempt to by-pass the security system.

Posted on 2016-08-15 at 11:55:45.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Rewind to the Captain's Arrival and Fast-Forward to the First Department Interview


Stardate 2365.02.08
USS Peregrine, Bridge - 1245

Experiments require a lot of documentation, which in turn causes large case files and massive amounts of scientific rhetoric detailing the smallest calibration adjustment including date, time, and with the help of the ship's computer, the nanosecond that the change took place. Variations in material results are catalogued with impunity and the objective turns out to be the smallest detail in the entire record. Were it not for the summary at the beginning of each experiment record, the Andorian scientist would have been in for months of catching up on the work of her new department. As it is, she still has weeks of education ahead of her.

Scanning the list of off-white project files on her screen, Lt. Sh'iraolnas pays little mind to the swooshing sounds of doors until she hears, "Lieutenant Zai, I see that we have decided to disconnect ear..." the comment dies mid-sentence right about the same moment that Asovil turns and realizes the man wearing the three gold pips of a commander who had been talking is staring straight at her.

Memories of the Starfleet public record file she had perused on Commander Silas Drake back at the station flood her thoughts. He stands taller than she by a few inches if her judgment is correct, sandy brown neatly trimmed hair with the standard style of sideburns prevalent in Starfleet, and the body type of an athlete bring to mind the Andorian scientist's older brother Tethaas whom she hasn't thought of for days now. The man's evident temper reminds her even more of her volatile brother than the build and haircut.

The captain's gaze narrows and burns through her to the wall behind. "And who might you be?" he queries.

"Sir, I am Lieutenant Junior Grade Asovil Sh'iraolnas, the new chief science officer for this ship," Asovil barks in crisp military format while snapping to attention.

Captain Drake draws in a breath and relieves his science officer of his scrutiny as he turns his questions to his XO. "Lieutenant Zai, please explain to me what she is talking about. Where is Lieutenant Tesenblen?"

Lt. Sh'iraolnas notes that even the Trill is careful to keep his tone neutral as he shares the news. "Lieutenant Tesenblen has, er... been arrested by Starfleet security, sir," he answers. "They have apparently seized no small portion of his lab contents, as well. I, myself, was just made aware of the situation..."

That does it. The Captain's professionalism cracks. He swears darkly, loudly, and with enough venom behind his words to cause paint to peel from the nearby bulkheads. His blue eyes crackle with icy fury.

"Lieutenant Moriden," he spits, "open a priority channel to Starbase security."

Asovil involuntarily glances to her right where the operations officer looks decidedly uncomfortable. The viewscreen leaps to life as Lt. Moriden quickly complies and Asovil turns to watch the proceedings while not even once feeling that Captain Drake's ire is directed towards her.

The screen reveals a sandy-haired human in his late thirties wearing the gold uniform associated with security personnel as well as three pips matching Commander Drake's. Something about this man doesn't sit correctly with Asovil, however. Studying his facial features and the intensity of his gaze combined with the slight natural curve of his mouth and the science officer is immediately reminded of a molecular psychiatry class she had taken some years earlier. Still unsure as to whether or not she is a convert of the science, she has to admit that the argument for bone structure analysis in determining characteristic personality types could potentially use this particular Starfleet officer as a poster child.

"Commander Jennings, here," the man on the viewscreen states in a calm manner. "What can I do for you, Captain Drake?"

Drake takes two steps towards the screen, his face a mask of rage. "You can explain to me what justification you could possibly have for arresting one of my department heads without coordinating with me first—hell, without even notifying me of the charges! To sneak in and remove one of my senior staff like this—to steal the property of this ship—is more than highly irregular, it's downright despicable! How dare you!"

Jennings appears unfazed by Drake's temper, but Asovil finds herself immediately liking her captain's spitfire approach to dealing with a situation that she can imagine is beyond frustrating. "Captain, your science officer was trafficking in illegal plants and seeds, several of which are dangerous or deadly. This has been going on for some time."

A smirk touches Commander Jennings' mouth before he continues, "Now Captain Drake, you may wish to tread lightly here; while no one truly expects the captain of a starship to know exactly which plants are being grown in the botany lab, the argument could be made that, as commanding officer, you are responsible for everything that happens on board. You wouldn't want such an implication, I'm sure..."

"First of all," Silas hisses, "don't you *dare* threaten me, Commander Jennings. Second, let the record show that you are making a mistake in arresting Lieutenant Tesenblen. The man is an exemplary officer, and while he was indeed growing some prohibited plants, he was doing do under very tight controls, and in pursuit of some extremely valuable scientific and medical research. He is a talented researcher with the best of intentions; his only real crime was in ignoring the bureaucracy necessary for a piece of paper granting him permission to carry on his research."

Knowledge that her predecessor isn't a traitor or smuggler intrigues Asovil. Drake draws a breath, "Third, I absolutely knew what he was doing, at least with the wolfsbane - and I approved of it specifically because of his motives and his attention to safety. If you wish to enter that into your report, feel free. If you feel that makes me an accomplice in a crime, perhaps you can find an admiral willing to sign off on my own arrest warrant."

Jennings appears a bit surprised that Commander Drake would so freely admit his own culpability and Asovil makes a mental note to find out what wolfsbane is.

The Captain releases the console and stands straight. He speaks softly with a hard edge behind it all, "Finally, sir, let me offer you a piece of advice; do not *ever* let me catch you on board a vessel I command unless you have prior authorization and have cleared it with me personally. If it happens again, Commander, I will consider you to be an unlawful intruder, and will treat you and your team as such. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Jennings' eyes widen in surprise and Lt. Sh'iraolnas' antennae perk straight up pushed by her thin white eyebrows. Captain Drake does not wait for him to finish whatever reply he might be crafting, "Drake out."

Lt. Moridan is swift to end the transmission and the Andorian has to give her silent credit for being that on the ball. The captain takes a deep breath, then turns to fix his gaze on the tactical station.

"Lieutenant Berk," he addresses the man icily. "I would be very interested to understand how an outside security team could board my ship, arrest one of my department heads, seize an apparently large amount of materials from one of my labs, while neither you nor your staff seemed to either know this was going on, or cared to let me know about it. Perhaps you can gather the facts, and we can have a debriefing after we are under way?"

The lieutenant bears a look that reminds the Andorian scientist of a snow fox she had once witnessed about to be carried away by an avalanche. The softer side of her immediately feels for the poor man.

"Aye sir." Lt. Berk says and then immediately sets about arranging coverage for his station. "Ensign Blackmon, I'll have you take over for me, I have to have a word with the rest of the department."

Mathias turns to the Captain, "Sir, I'll question my security officers and have a report ready for you within the hour. With your permission, of course."

(OCC: Assuming the captain responds in agreement)

The security officer makes his way to the turbolift and Asovil determines that the timing is about right to return to her review of the department's projects, but before she can even turn to her station the turbolift doors open revealing two alien beings that she's not familiar with wearing non-Starfleet uniforms accompanied by what she can only assume are their security escorts.

"Ambassadors," Commander Drake offers a slightly shaky smile. "Thank you for joining us. We will depart Starbase 118 momentarily."

Ambassadors aboard an escort vessel add to the mystery of their assignment as far as Asovil is concerned. She studies the group who had just joined them for a moment that might just press the boundaries of etiquette before abruptly returning to her review work. She's positive that the captain will fill her in when he debriefs her and officially welcomes her aboard. Until then, she knows she's not likely to be called upon for her expertise and that means that she has time to at least review the rather extensive list of project files before making her way to her own department for introductions.

Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday)
USS Peregrine - Science Lab 1, Deck 4 - 1415

Crewman Lena Pierce Scheuermann sits across the desk from Asovil with his large hands folded in his lap and a slightly hunched posture. The Andorian takes note of the thick, brown hairs across the back of his hands leading into the black of his uniform sleeves and follows the contour of his arms up to his shoulders and neckline where the hair juts out of his collar in small tufts. He's tall. The Andorian estimates that he stands a little over six foot, maybe six one, or two, a fact that causes him to slump a little so as not to draw attention to himself. At least, that's the assumption she's formed. His face is more round than oval and despite the thick hair that obviously covers his body, his head is nearly shaved. The shadow of brown hair that he maintains sits far back on his forehead making his cranium look much bigger than it actually is. He has a prominent nose as well providing him with a bookish appearance.

"I'm Lieutenant Junior Grade Asovil Sh'iraolnas, Mr. Scheuermann. I'm performing these interviews because I will be serving as your commanding officer and I'd like to get to know your strengths and weaknesses." Asovil's antennae move forward intimating her interest in the conversation about to take place. She sits with her hands folded on the desk in front of her, a PADD resting to the right. Crewman Scheuermann's personnel file open on the viewscreen of her desk computer. "Let's start by telling me where you feel your strengths lie."

"Yes, sir," Pierce—he preferred being called Pierce to Lena, which is his mother's name— swallows his nervousness and gives three succinct (though small) nods before continuing. "At the moment, sir, I'm still trying to test into my specialty, but I believe that I do fairly well with botany and biology."

"Did you work at all with Lt. Tesenblen on any of his projects?"

"A bit, but mostly I assisted Ensign Maize."

"When working with Lt. Tesenblen," Asovil lowers her head just a bit to try and peer up into the man's eyes as he keeps looking at the edge of the desk in front of him. "Did you work on any of the projects that were removed from the Botany Lab?"

"No, sir," Pierce shakes his nearly bald head slowly and frowns. "Those were expressly off limits."

"What's left in the Botany Lab to continue work with?" Asovil feels slightly disappointed, but continues to press her interview.

"Oh," Crewman Scheuermann perks up and looks directly into her sapphire eyes for just a moment before awkwardly looking over her left shoulder. "There's still plenty to do in there, sir. Project 2897354, Project 3340091, Project 2234523, and—"

"I see," the lieutenant interrupts, lifting the PADD and keying in a couple of designations. "I'm specifically assigning you to Botany, Mr. Scheuermann. We need a botanist on board now that Lt. Tesenblen is no longer here. I've just assigned you to all of the related projects. Is this something that you feel comfortable with?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good. I expect a report to be submitted to Ensign Maize by end of Alpha shift 2365.02.15 detailing active experiments' progress, projects that have been removed, and the status of any pending projects waiting on materials or other resources. I also want to see that you've connected with the appropriate scientific groups within the Federation to help you with these experiments, Mr. Scheuermann. Just because I've placed you over the botany projects does not mean that you have, what is it you humans say? Cart belch?"

"Um, carte blanche, sir."

"Yes," Asovil narrows her eyes in disappointment with herself over having missed that particular human phrase. "That.

"I am still reviewing personnel files in detail, Mr. Scheuermann," she continues. "Is there anything that I should be aware of before discovering it on my own?"

"No, sir. Nothing that I can think of."

"One last thing, Mr. Scheuermann."

"Yes, sir?"

"How did you feel about Lt. Tesenblen's arrest?"

The office falls silent with just the ever present hum of a starship in operation barely perceptible in the undertones of the natural room noises. Pierce sniffs and purses his lips in thought, shifting the weight from one side of his rump to the other as he seeks a more comfortable position—a position that is unachievable so long as that question hangs in the air. Asovil remains quiet, studying the near putty-like adjustments to his features, looking for any telltale emotions that seep through during the man's attempt to regain control over his features. After what seems like minutes, but is more likely moments, Crewman Lena Pierce Scheuermann delivers his assessment.

"I think that the whole thing stinks of bureaucracy and corruption, sir." Pierce raises his round face—now steady with resolve—and meets his commanding officer's gaze steadily for the breadth of three blinks before redirecting his eyes to the space over her left shoulder again.

"Bureaucracy and corruption?" Asovil allows her head to tilt slightly to the right, her antennae relaxing their forward pose to settle backward in a curled, almost scorpion tail position. "You intimate that Starfleet is determined to cause problems for Lt. Tesenblen for reasons other than his own failure to maintain proper authorization on dangerous projects? Or, perhaps it isn't just Lt. Tesenblen, but the Peregrine to which you're referring?"

"I don't know, sir," Pierce frowns. "But, the work that Lt. Tesenblen was doing was for the good of all, you know?"

"I don't know, Mr. Scheuermann." Lt. Sh'iraolnas straightens her head and raises her eyebrows to emphasize her comments. "And neither do you. I'll remind you, Crewman, that you do not know the inner thoughts of the lieutenant. You are not a Betazoid, are you?"

"No, sir," he responds sourly.

"Nor are you an Aenar, correct?"

"No, sir."

"Then, I would caution you against pretending to know that which you do not know." Asovil folds her hands and rests them on the desk in front of her once more, having placed the PADD back in its original position. "You are a scientist, Mr. Scheuermann, and scientists do not assume, we theorize and prove."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm glad that we understand each other, Mr. Scheuermann. I look forward to your report." The Science Officer holds her right hand out towards the door, inviting the crewman to consider the interview over and to take his leave of her.

Posted on 2016-08-11 at 20:43:59.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Think with yer dipstick, laddy!


Now that's an introduction to your captain! Woot!

Posted on 2016-08-11 at 18:57:48.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Should I be concerned?


I mean, c'mon now. Where are the posts? Has everyone had enough 'Punk? Game over? Pull the plug? Die already?

Posted on 2016-08-10 at 21:20:41.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: So very glad...


Asovil will be glad she arrived after the uniforms and dustbuster phasers were spaced. I have a vision of an entire starship full of naked lifeforms running to their replicators in a panic.

And, I'm voting for kilts! So, airy. Nothing quite like that fresh Highland morn' t' get ya goin' fer the day! BRISK, I TELL YA!

Posted on 2016-08-10 at 21:18:51.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Is it true?


El Capitan has emerged!

Posted on 2016-08-08 at 20:05:06.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Meeting the inlaws...


Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday)
USS Peregrine - Science Lab 1, Deck 4 - 1400

Surprise inspections are the thing of nightmares for the unprepared. The Andorian Imperial Guard teaches guardsmen to be prepared for anything. Not being prepared teaches harsh lessons to the recruit. Asovil still remembers witnessing the first and only dressing down she had ever received. Scars can be physical, spiritual, and mental. Andorian instructors are adept at delivering all three with one swift kick resulting in a lifetime memory of correction and humiliation that cures any future mistakes.

Transferring from the School of Arts and Sciences to the Imperial Guard, some would say was an improbable and complete opposite career path. Others said that she was going to fail outright. But there are things that drive people to do the impossible--even that which they don't originally think they can accomplish. Experiences such as that lace her life and firmly establish a belief that trials and perceived insurmountability are the forges through which hardened steel is crafted. As a Starfleet officer, junior though she is, she must be that catalyst in her subordinates' lives. This is why the newly appointed science officer had not informed any of the crew within her department that she was on the way after she had deemed it no longer necessary to remain on the bridge.

Asovil Sh'iraolnas doesn't know why the previous department head was arrested and she isn't even sure that knowledge will do anything to change her approach. For all the highly intelligent Andorian knows, the science crew was party to their officer's misbehavior, perhaps even culpable. Yes, Starfleet had only arrested Lt. Thorlesen, or whatever his name is (Asovil doesn't care to expend the mental energy to remember the criminal's name), which would indicate that they have not yet found evidence to incriminate any others. That evidence has not been found only means that their investigation may not have turned anything up yet. Experience on board the Equinox makes the lieutenant, junior grade, fully aware that ship life means close quarters and little in the way of secrets. At least someone in the department knows, and knew, about the illegal activity. Asovil is determined to remedy the lackadaisical and overly familiar behavior she suspected was prevalent to invite such activities.

Purposeful and commanding, Asovil strides into Science Lab 1 and stops abruptly just as the door slides shut behind her. The room before her is deep and wide with work tables, computer screens, and various experiments being monitored across live feeds networking together many of Starfleet's science labs, not just the ones on board the ship. This arrangement is no different than what had been set up on the Equinox and is a particularity within Starfleet that Asovil quite enjoys. The networking brings together a community of scientists from all over the quadrant to share theories and refine project findings. Respect amongst scientists means that rarely, if ever, are any works plagiarized or stolen.

Two humans are present in this lab which tells the lieutenant, junior grade, that the others are spread throughout the other labs. One of those present wears a single gold pip on her collar. Of a slightly smaller than average height for human females, this one wears her blond hair tied up and out of the way. The other is a male with black hair retreating from his face as though in a race to make it to the back of his neck. Skin appearing loose about his jowls does nothing to improve his apparent lack of poor genetics and he sports a pot belly like a four month pregnant Farengi. Both look startled and while the woman pulls herself together with haste, the male continues to stand mouth agape, his unfortunately shaped upper body turned towards Asovil at the waist while his legs remain facing forward, bent slightly at the knees, ready to leap like an Andorian Snow Springer.

"Ensign Maize," the senior officer assumes crisply. "I am Lieutenant Junior Grade Asovil Sh'iraolnas, the new science officer for this ship. I believe you are my second?"

"Why, yes, I am."

"Sir." Asovil adds beginning a slow stroll clockwise about the lab.

"Excuse me?" Dalia blinks in confusion.

"You may address me as sir or lieutenant as I am your superior officer and that is my rank." The Andorian paused and bent slightly to intently study a small Vulcan beetle encased in a ten centimeter circumference covered bin.

"Yes, sir." Ensign Maize's icy response falls cold on Asovil's ears. Not at all displeased, the Andorian resumes her snail pace walk.

"And who are you Crewman?" Lt. Sh'iraolnas pauses long enough to direct her sapphire gaze upon the still posed jackrabbit of a man.

"Crewman Thomas Petra? Um, sir?"

"You might want to double check that, Crewman."

"Uh, why, uh, sir?"

"Because you seem unsure."

Thomas spit an awkward laugh through his lips and relaxed his stance. "Oh, no. I know who I am. You just--I mean, I was just--well, see? It's just that--"

"Never mind," Asovil returns to her cursory inspection. The lab is actually in really good order for a department headed up by a criminal.

"Welcome aboard, sir," Ensign Maize has recovered enough to attempt a save by turning her superior officer's attention from the bumbling man. "I wasn't aware as of yet that Lt. Tesenblen's replacement had been selected. I apologize that we aren't all here so I could introduce the team."

"I would imagine that with the ship under way and no senior officer assigned, you had been looking forward to the responsibilities of department head." The lieutenant stopped in front of an array of screens with vital project information for various projects grouped into color coded boxes and began processing the data. "I'm sorry to disappoint."

"No, sir," the ensign hurriedly attempts to recover from the perception that she might be making a power play. "It was nothing like that."

Walking the floor again, Asovil spares Ensign Maize and the foolish Petra a patronizing gaze. "Of course not."

"I was merely stating that everyone in the department would have been here to greet you, is all." The ensign's hurried explanation is a sure sign that whatever recovery she had mad is no lost.

"Be that as it may," Sh'iraolnas runs the fingers of her left hand lightly across the rim of another clear container bearing some plant form the Andorian is not familiar with. "I've familiarized myself in a cursory manner with many of the priority projects within this department. I've read the crew files--those currently not sealed, that is. And I've read a number of Lt. Thorelsun's logs."

"Lt. Tesenblen, sir." Dalia politely offers, but Asovil has purposefully mispronounced her predecessor's name this time hoping to determine how deep this woman's loyalties lie. It is the Andorian's opinion that when faced with a rigid and obviously antagonistic superior officer a person would allow a little mistake such as the calling of a person by the wrong name to slide. Unless the individual doing the correcting felt loyalty towards the person whose name was mistaken, that is.

"Ah, yes," Asovil allows a small smile to creep up on her dark blue lips. "So it is. I apologize.

"There's little time left in Alpha Shift, so I expect everyone will understand that we will be pulling late hours tonight. I want to meet with everyone individually, Mr. Maize." Lt. Asovil Sh'iraolnas stops her stroll of the lab in front of the closed door to her new office. "Starting with the crewmen and ending with you, please."

Having given the order, Asovil turns and strides into the barren office, the turning of her stomach becoming more pronounced the further from the initial confrontation she grows. Sevar would likely have pulled something like what she just went through off much smoother than she. He had been born into this role; Asovil merely claws her way through each encounter with fierce verocity.

Posted on 2016-08-08 at 00:28:02.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Fun stuff


Brennus, so long as the side plot doesn't deviate personnel from the main plot (read, we've suddenly been attacked by the Borg or sucked into a wormhole), you should be fine. As a matter-of-fact, you're encouraged to do so and even include other departments so that other players can be involved in RP. Just be aware of dates and time so you're not posting conflicts.

Posted on 2016-08-07 at 13:16:42.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Notice.


Hey, Choombas!

I've got duties pertaining to my collarboy side of life pretty much all next week. This means that I'll likely not post for the week (though I may surprise you).

This should give you all plenty of time to get nice posts in place yourselves. I'm counting on it, as a matter-of-fact.

Posted on 2016-08-06 at 20:58:45.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Yup. Me too.


Right back atcha, Eol.

I could use a recap too, Ody.

And Boo, I say post getting Thorson stable and the rapid transfer base side. There's no reason not to. For the sake of Yanamari's pending return, you could leave places for her to insert instruction, orders, or other interactions, but I'd say don't tie yourself up. Or... or, you could just post a few hours ahead after the ship is under way if you feel uncomfortable about taking liberties in sickbay.

Just my thoughts.

Posted on 2016-08-06 at 20:55:51.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: I'll post ahead later. I'll also try to get more interaction with other PCS then.


I have posted with Asovil's perception of events on the bridge.

Posted on 2016-08-06 at 15:45:35.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: I'll post ahead later. I'll also try to get more interaction with other PCS then.


Stardate 2365.02.08
USS Peregrine - Bridge
"Requesting permission to take the Science con, sir," Asovil does her best to make a quick assessment of the lieutenant sitting in the Captain's Chair. It strikes her as unusual that the Trill's rank isn't higher in order to be commanding a ship. Her rank disparity in being over a science department on a starship is excused because of the unimportant nature of the position on board an escort vessel, but she believes that the position of Captain should at least be held by an officer of higher regard.

"Permission granted, Lt Sh'iraolnas," the man says, rising from the chair and gesturing to SCI 1, "Welcome aboard the Peregrine. Our apologies for the rather sudden and frantic nature of you're joining us."

Exacting a nod of compliance, the Andorian looked towards the station that the lieutenant indicated and makes her way to stand in front of it. Chairs are for more constant bridge presences, and the lack of a chair at SC1 is another reminder of the value placed on her department.

"Base Ops on screen."

Asovil glances at the view screen when the captain gave his orders, but quickly decides she has no stock in what's about to take place. Returning her attention to the console, the science officer punches in her authorization code (such a designator follows the individual through their assignments in Starfleet) and is relieved to find that Ops had already managed to provide her with the accesses due her position.

"Lt Tochi Zai of the USS Peregrine, here," the captain says once the screen flares to life. "What can we do for you, Chief?"

Lt. Sh'iraolnas deftly works the SC's controls and pulls up the department's roster.

"Uh, Peregrine, has the timetable for your departure changed? We're showing a request for accelerated off-cycling from ESM and boarding gantries have been been red-lined."

"Negative, Chief," Zai replies with a conciliating smile, "Our timetable is exactly as logged. We're simply pulling the umbilicals early as Engineering wanted to ensure integrity and efficiency of some new life-support modules before we left spacedock. Those diagnostics can't be performed in External Support Mode."

Reviewing the assembled dossiers, Asovil pays partial attention to the conversation taking place. Cross training is encouraged, but rarely is there time for more than a cursory education on other departments and their procedures. The Andorian has only marginal knowledge of the decoupling procedure. She takes minor consolation at the chief's concern seeing how the rush order had caused her introduction to the Peregrine to be less than dignified. She knows how starship crews talk and it is likely that the ridiculous display she had been forced into was already the talk of the ship. Though, the abrupt removal of the previous science officer might take precedence. That's all she needs, multiple black marks against her and her department before she even knows what their assignment is.

"Acknowledged, Lieutenant," the chief acquiesced. Then, "Thank you for the clarification. We'll go ahead and up the off-cycle and disengage the gantries."

"Much appreciated, Chief," Tochi replies and the transmission ends.

Operations then prompts, "The Coronado, sir?"

"On screen, Mr Moriden."

Digging deeper into the personnel files, Asovil attempts to access her predecessor's. Access Denied A frown sets upon her lips. Whatever he had done, Starfleet wasn't about to share. She will have to find out from her new crewmen.


"Commander Farr." the friendly tone of Lt. Tochi's greeting draws her attention from her investigation to the image of the officer on screen, and then back to the captain's pleasant smile. "So nice of you to call. What can we do for you?"

Is there some past liaison between these two? Asovil attempts to read the commander's expressions.

"Oh," Cmdr Farr is obviously surprised. The expression on her face seems to waiver somewhere between uncertainty and relief for a moment and then she, too, smiles. ",Good afternoon, Lt Zai. I was expecting to speak to your commanding officer,"

Commanding officer? Asovil glances back to Lt. Tochi. Perhaps she has misjudged...

"We're sorry, Commander," Tochi smiles, taking yet another step closer to the viewscreen, "Captain Drake is currently occupied with personnel matters and unavailable. Is this something that I might be able to address for you?"

That's right! Asovil closes her sapphire eyes and silently berates herself. Memory of a Captain Drake begins to creep back into the forefront of her usually sharp mind. She now remembers reading that Drake, not Tochi, captained the Peregrine.

"Well," Commander Farr's smile falters just a bit and her gaze ticks somewhat apprehensively to a point just offscreen for a flicker of a second, when she returns her attention to Zai, the smile stabilizes a bit but her voice seems softer, "I was directed to contact Captain Drake but I'm sure you could,"

At that moment, a sever looking human male appeared in frame and not a second afterwards that his glowering visage all but eclipses the decidedly more pleasant countenance of the commander. Turning her attention to Lt. Tochi, Asovil noted his smile change from charming to professionally pleasant.

"Where is Commander Drake, Lieutenant," the officer oppressing the viewscreen demands. The scientist in Asovil taking over, she's now content to put her investigation into her department on hold in order to ascertain the nuances of the relationships between these two ships' personnel.

"Good afternoon, Captain Jacobs," Tochi smiles cooly, subtly stepping back a pace from the viewscreen. "As we were just relating to Cmdr Farr, sir, Captain Drake, is in his Ready Room dealing with some sudden and, frankly, quite unexpected personnel transfers. Being indisposed as he is, the Captain has given us leave to address any concerns you may have. Unfortunately, your XO had yet to broach that particular subject before we were interrupted,"

Asovil notes the use of the word "us" in the XO's explanation and files it away for future inquiry. She is aware of Trill symbiotic relationships, but has never before had the opportunity to study the phenomenon up close.

Jacobs' lips purse and his eyes narrow as if he just ingested a mouthful of acid or, at the very least, bile.

",What might I assist you with, sir?"

Asovil finds the officer on screen's demeanor interesting and concludes that he is an elitist. She is all too familiar with elitists amidst ranking officers. That is the modus operandi for Andorian Imperial Guardsmen.

"I have been informed, Lieutenant, that the Peregrine has escalated her separation routine," the Coronado's captain says once he convinces himself to address a mere lieutenant, "No scheduling changes have been authorized. What is going on aboard that ship, Mister Zai?"

Tochi allows his smile to melt from pleasant to vaguely patronizing before he answers and Asovil realizes that the Trill is playing a game of cat and mouse, as the humans say.

"As we said," Lt. Tochi replies. "And are certain that you are aware, sir; we have had a rapid influx and outflow of personnel since our arrival at Starbase 118." The Andorian briefly wonders just how many of the Peregrine's crew had been rifled. "Most of them critical department heads and/or command staff." Enlightened, Asovil now wonders why. Perhaps there's more going on aboard the Peregrine than first meets the eye. "In light of these unexpected developments and given that Captain Drake has given me command of the bridge while he addresses them, we have elected to lock our doors and accelerate our separation from the stations umbilicals in order to avoid any further interruptions and complications,"

Asovil Sh'iraolnas has suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, received an explanation for her rush order. She ponders the information for a moment and determines that she is the unfortunate recipient of the ill-advised decision to wait until the last possible moment to come on board. No one made the decision to try and embarrass her because of what they'd discovered about her and why she was assigned to the Peregrine. Such pondering affords her little comfort and doesn't remove the sting accompanying her inglorious entrance, but it allays suspicions and that, to her, is something.

",Only our routine has been upticked, Captain Jacobs," Tochi reassured the man scowling back at him from the viewer. "Not our schedule. We wouldn't dare leave without you, sir, if that was your concern."

A joint mission with the Coronado and the insufferable P'olnac of a Captain would, at the very least, provide entertainment for the scientist in the variety taking place then and there.

Jacobs' scowl etches itself even deeper into his face amidst a ruddy complexion fired by indignation. "Don't condescend to me, Zai," he snaps.

"No condescension intended, sir," Tochi lies smoothly, bowing his head a bit to sweeten the sale, "Our apologies if,"

"You tell Commander Drake," Jacobs intrudes, "to contact me immediately, Lieutenant!"

"Aye, sir," Tochi responds crisply, once more offering a slight bow of the head, "we will be sure that Captain Drake contacts you at his earliest conven--"

Jacobs turns his head and the viewscreen abruptly goes dark.

"--ience."

The Trill's smile morphs again, though, the exact nature of what colored it this time might have been a little ambiguous. Was it satisfaction? Asovil wonders if he feels that he had won that particular conflict. In her experience, antagonizing a superior officer rarely resulted in anything good.

"Well," Tochi says from behind his smile, taking another backpedaling step away from the black viewscreen before committing to actually turning around, "that went better than we had imagined it would." As he strides back toward the command chair, the smile still dancing on his lips, he regards the bridge crew and asks; "Now, where were we?"

Lt. Sh'iraolnas looks quietly about the room as a few knowing grins and a stray snicker follow the Peregrine's XO back to the Captain's Chair.

"Ah, yes," he says, glancing again at Lt. Moriden after a quick perusal of the chrono. "Advise our guests that we will be departing in twenty minutes or less and, if they would care to join us on the bridge at that time, they would be more than welcome."

"Aye, aye, sir," Moriden grin.

Guests? Asovil turns slowly back to her console and wonders about gain at their mission while she brings up the science officer logs. A number have been sealed, but the majority are open allowing the newly appointed science officer to begin educating herself on the previous and current projects within her department.

Posted on 2016-08-06 at 13:22:25.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Ahem...


It's not the length of the thing, it's how you use it.

Sorry. I couldn't resist (That's what she said).



Posted on 2016-08-05 at 18:56:45.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Welcome back!


Asovil is on the bridge! Woot!

Posted on 2016-08-05 at 12:56:32.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: I have arrived!


Stardate 2365.02.08
SB18; Temporary Starfleet Quarters, Deck 15 - 1232

Starfleet bases are always a little stark and sterile, Asovil Sh'iraolnas concludes halfway to the connecting bay door for her new assignment. White and gray bulwarks with blue, gold, or red accents to indicate department affiliation and the kind of lights that pinch a person's eyes if they catch the glare just right seem to be the decorations of choice. This realization doesn't bother the Andorian scientist. It is merely an observation to take her mind off of the pending lackluster duties she already imagines herself doing.

=/= Operations to Lt. Sh'iraolnas. =/=

Allowing her sapphire eyes to turn towards the ceiling as though she might discover the speaker hailing her over the comm badge hiding there, Asovil doesn't miss a stride in her response. She simply taps the badge on her left breast once and then readjusts her dark blue, Starfleet issued bivvy bag which slides a bit off her shoulder with the movement.

"Lt. Sh'iraolnas here."

=/= Peregrine Operations has a rush order for you, Lieutenant. The message is that they are locking down in roughly ninety seconds and that you need to be on board when they do. =/=

"Copy that," Asovil's eyes narrow and she calculates the distance she has remaining against the time it will take to cover it. Polished boot heels clicking beneath her in a practiced run perfected in the Andorian Imperial Guard, the science officer sprints down the corridor with her personal belongings bouncing unceremoniously against her back packed deftly into her bag.

There's no reason that she's aware of for the rush. According to the base operations manifest, there's still close to a half hour before the ship departs. Thundering through the crowded promenade, Asovil juked and cut around surprised and curious traffic a determined expression on her face. On the one hand, the Andorian wonders if there's a sudden emergency that is forcing the Peregrine to embark on her mission early—whatever that mission is. The thought excites her and resurrects ambitions she had held before that fateful day when she'd left the Andorian Imperial Guard. On the other hand, Lt. Sh'iraolnas is forced to consider whether someone on board the Saber class ship has it out for her. Perhaps they know and the unknown antagonist is planning on making her assignment as miserable as possible until she quits. There are few individuals who could accelerate the departure of a ship—"Pardon me," she calls to a stocky human in a civilian's business suit that is knocked aside by her bag as she makes a particularly daring slip between him and a group of socializers blocking the main thoroughfare—The command staff and, perhaps, Starfleet alone could make that particular command happen. Where does the threat lie? Onboard, or higher up?

Ahead, the arched gray portal with the blue gate designation presented above fast approaches and the lithe scientist leans a little further into her sprint. Andorians have a higher metabolic rate than humans, and the sprint is beginning to take its toll. Long distance running was never something that Asovil excelled at. She is better at the sprint, but taking her heavy bivvy bag into consideration and she knows she doesn't have much left in her. It's good then, that the bay door is in sight and achievable. Her eyes widen in incredulous dismay as the door begins to slide downward with the crew beyond oblivious to her rapid approach.

Reaching deep inside, Asovil pulls herself up by the bootstraps and urges her body to draw upon the last of her reserves. She devours the distance like a ravenous targ at a Klingon dinner table. Height becomes an issue as the door descends lower and lower. Mid-stride, the woman removes her bag from her shoulder and using the momentum of the swing, slings it mightily through the door. With barely a meter left before the door closes, the usually dignified Andorian leaps forward and slides underneath the door on her slim belly, arms outstretched before her, the heels of her highly polished boots clipping the door on her way through.

Sliding to a stop, Asovil allows her forehead to touch the cool floor for a brief moment relief flooding her soul. Then, realizing the picture she must be presenting, she quickly regains her feet, dusts off her black and blue uniform, tugs at the bottom hem of the top to readjust to comfort and presentability. Pushing strands of her white hair from her face and pulling some errant and disobedient strands from her dark blue lips, she turns and retrieves her bag from the floor.

"That was, interesting," she grumbles under her breath, her antennae twitching with suppressed emotion.

"I have to agree," the human male standing next to the door sheathes the phaser at his waist and raises his eyebrows at her predicament while trying not to smile at a superior officer's rather undignified entrance. Asovil is sure that he's likely never seen such a display before.

"Lt. Asovil Sh'iraolnas, reporting for duty," she responds a bit acerbically. "No thanks to the rushed departure protocol. What's the hurry, crewman?"

"I'm not sure, Lieutenant," the blonde man replied while visibly adjusting his disposition to one of all business. He wears a gold and black uniform and Asovil immediately places him in Security.

"Well, where am I supposed to go from here?" she looks away from his uncomfortable face and about the bay witnessing the fast approach of human female also wearing a gold and black uniform. Her flushed face showed a faint hexagonal patterning just beneath the surface that momentarily intrigues the Andorian, but only momentarily. Annoyance at the way she is being treated quickly squashes her curiosity.

"I'll show you to your quarters, Lieutenant, sir," the woman descended on Asovil's position in flushed haste. "Petty Officer Tara Palmer, sir. I have to apologize for my tardiness. I'm afraid we were just informed of your arrival."

"Just?" Asovil narrowed her eyes. She has been in possession of her orders for the better part of the day. "How is that possible?"

"I—uh, let's walk, Mr. Sh'iraolnas," Mr. Palmer holds her hand out back in the direction she'd just come from, through the busy bay where personnel were scurrying about preparing for decoupling procedures. Asovil doesn't offer a reply, but starts walking allowing the petty officer to fall in beside her.

"Well?" the irritated Andorian looks askance of her escort out of the corner of her still narrowed eye after they'd exited the bay and proceeded down the hall a ways.

"There's been a number of reassignments that have strained my department, sir." Tara replies with a slight frown that Asovil interprets as worry. "Yours was communicated to me with just enough time for me to greet you when I did."

"And what happened to the previous Science Officer?"

"He—uh, well—he had to leave rather quickly," Palmer struggles through the explanation.

"A family emergency? Special assignment? What's the state of the department that I'm walking into, Mr. Palmer?"

"No, none of those things," Tara sighs. "I suppose you'll find out sooner rather than later anyway. It's not like there wasn't some spectacle involved.

"Lt. Tesenblen was arrested by Starfleet and removed from the ship with a good portion of his botanical lab. I don't know any more detail than that, sir. But I'm sure the Captain will. He'll want to meet with you soon, I'd imagine."

"I don't have a briefing scheduled with the captain yet?" Asovil is shocked. Surely protocol must be followed!

"Not yet," Tara looks like she wishes she could fade away, the octagonal vein patterning shows up in her cheeks again.

"Fine." Lt. Sh'iraolnas shakes her head and purses her lips. "I suppose Lt. Tesenblon's—" "Tesenblen, sir."—"Fine, Tesenblen—I don't suppose his quarters have been readied for me yet. You can see that my bag is delivered to the quarters. I'll be attending the bridge science station as we depart."

"Yes, sir."

Asovil hoists the heavy bag from her shoulder and delivers it to the apologetic petty chief. Stopping in the middle of the corridor, she looks left, then right, searching for the nearest lift.

"It's that way, sir." Tara points.

Minutes later, Asovil steps foot on the bridge of the Peregrine for the first time. The Saber class vessel's bridge layout is familiar to the Andorian only because she had taken the opportunity to question the ship's computer about it on her way up.

"Requesting permission to take the science con, sir!" Asovil barks as she steps from the elevator and stands at rigid attention, her antennae pressing forward with anticipation of the response from the Trill seated in the captain's chair.

Posted on 2016-08-05 at 12:50:47.
Edited on 2016-08-05 at 19:07:36 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Why, thank you!


I figured I'd veer away from my usual preferences for characters seeing how I am picking up the role of a science officer (also not my usual choice). I hope she entertains sufficiently.

I, too, will have another post up shortly working with that silverscreen woosh concept.

Posted on 2016-08-04 at 19:15:05.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: Consider this a sidebar...


Stardate 2365.02.08
SB18; Temporary Starfleet Quarters, Deck 15 - 1230

To like one's assignment is to be content and contentment leads to complacency. These are the teachings of Duelist Bal Th'shahros and they speak to the heart of Andorian principles. Asovil remembers being inundated with the teachings of Duelist Bal Th'shahros from the time she could understand what her older brothers educators were speaking about. Some of the fondest memories she has involved being chased from the classroom for being a nuisance to Sevar, and then to Tethaas when he came of age. It wasn't until she had entered the classroom herself that the importance of the solemn attention to education was drilled home. And oh how that attentiveness had paid off. At least, until now.

Asovil Sh'iraolnas' temporary bunk was on the outer mezzanine, a privilege afforded officers and dignitaries. While being a junior grade lieutenant usually would have still placed her in an interior facing room, she had been bumped up to an exterior position due to amount of traffic the starbase was experiencing and the number of enlisted personnel that were currently aboard. The operations officer who had issued her assignment hadn't known why she was pending transfer and she hadn't been forth-coming with the information, but she knew she didn't deserve the view. She certainly hadn't earned it.

Space is a cold and unforgiving place to most, but not to her. Asovil liked the cold. Most Andorians did. But Asovil also liked the unknown that Space held, the discovery, the predictable unpredictability of it all. Science had rules, structure, and pattern, but there was still so much to be discovered that there was nothing dry about her work. Passion was the word she would use for it had she any friends to share such thoughts with. Friendship was difficult for Asovil in the more relaxed society of the Federation's Starfleet. The Andorian Imperial Guard had not shown her how to be relaxed. In the face of socializing with fellow Starfleet shipmates, the tall, blue-skinned, antennaed woman often fell short. Even in the privacy of her own quarters she found herself standing at the window in properly pressed pants-uniform (she despised the dress version), her hands clasped firmly into the small of her back, her feet exactly shoulder width apart.

The blue of her uniform played nicely with the softer blue tones of her smooth skin and her shoulder-length white hair fell loose about her neck as though in defiance of her militaristic demeanor. Her brothers had been forced to defend her right to the life of a single woman back home on many an occasion as she was thought to be quite pretty, but she rarely bothered herself with more than making sure her appearance met regulation and reflected well upon her superiors and the organization she represented. This habit was something she picked up back at the Andorian School of Science and Arts and she carries it with her to every new assignment.

The position of her window was placed just so that she could see the rear of the engine lacels belonging to the Peregrine. Glancing down at the PADD in her hand, Asovil reviewed the transfer orders that had finally come through. They hadn't changed. She didn't expect them to. She was to await orders to report to the Peregrine where-upon she would take command of the science department and act as a member of the command staff. Some might think of this as an exciting assignment. Asovil felt it was a slap in the face. After all, she was being reassigned from the Equinox, a Nova-Class science vessel, to the Peregrine; a Saber-Class escort with no real science purpose. She had been relegated to an auxiliary position of little importance from one where she was constantly involved in cutting-edge work. And for what? She still didn't fully understand the reason for her transfer. The circumstances were beyond her logic. The only thing she could do was accept her assignment and turn her skills from scientific pursuits to supporting, what? Supporting what? What exactly did a science officer do on board an escort vessel?

Catching her reflection in the window, Asovil studies the cut of her collar, the one black pip in back of a gold pip that represented her rank, and the frown on her face. She had roughly one half of an hour to report, and she couldn't put the responsibility off any longer. Looking back to the PADD, her brow furrowed at the last line on the orders: Last minute transfer. She hopes that Operations had been made aware of her arrival and that everything was in order. She disliked things that weren't in order.

"Computer," she initiates dryly, only proceeding once the responding beep indicated that the system was awaiting her orders. "Inform the Peregrine that I am on my way. I'll be there in ten-minutes."

Posted on 2016-08-04 at 15:34:29.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Awesome Sauce!


The crew is coming back! Woot. Oh... and I made my introductory post.

Lieutenant Junior Grade Asovil Sh'iraolnas reporting for duty!



Posted on 2016-08-04 at 14:12:21.
Edited on 2016-08-04 at 15:36:12 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: I like it!


Thanks for the welcome, Eol, and for the vote of confidence, Ody. I wouldn't deign to take the reins from our fearless leader though. Seeing how the ship is still docked at SB18, my character may be coming aboard through conventional (if somewhat suspicious) means. Perhaps I'll write up a SB18 intro...

Posted on 2016-08-04 at 12:06:11.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: I have posted. Yes, it's long.


I hope you enjoy the read.

Now, I left off with actions being needed from everyone before we can proceed. I look forward to everyone posting!

Posted on 2016-08-04 at 11:46:47.

 


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