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Sam Jones
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Sam Jones
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In honor of the late Douglas Adams's birthday today, here's a post I wrote two years ago:

ON:
 
[CSO's office]
 
Nick frowned at his console, a large amount of Seran data scrolling past.  It was becoming a chore, sifting through the alien database for anything resembling sense.  So far he was able to pull out a general calendar format, a few prominent names that he surmised were world leaders at some point, and a half kiloquad of unintelligible gibberish.
 
This was going to take a while.
 
He sighed again and narrowed his eyes at the data as he tried to pull out something else of note.
 
Suddenly, his view was completely obscured by the dropping of a large terrycloth.  "Gah!" he complained, pulling the offending garment from his head.  Looking at it, he blinked, momentarily confused.  It was a checked dressing gown.
 
"You need a break." a voice intoned with an edge of amusement from above him.  Nick glanced up and noticed Sarah standing there, arms akimbo.  He blinked at her wardrobe as well.  She wore a functional zipped full-body white jumpsuit with wide legs, a white button-down blouse barely visible behind the zipper.  Her hair was tied back, albeit rather messily.  He had to admit it was rather fetching.
 
He held the dressing gown aloft, "Er?"
 
Sarah grinned widely, "Yes, that's for you."
 
He blinked in confusion again, sitting stock still, staring at the garment.  Sarah simply grabbed his hand and dragged him from the office.
 
[Holodeck 2]
 
"This still doesn't make any sense," Nick mentioned, shoving his hands deeply into pockets.  After some prompting from Sarah, he had abandoned his usual lab coat for the dressing gown, though he still had his uniform on underneath.  The garment was lightly tied at the waist for convenience.
 
Sarah grinned mischievously, "Don't panic," she said simply.  "It probably won't make any more sense than this."  She finished tapping at the holodeck's control panel.
 
"Program complete.  Enter when ready."
 
Sarah grabbed Nick's hand and practically dragged him inside.  Before he had a chance to get his bearings, she shoved a white towel into his hands, "You'll need this." she said to him.  It only served to increase his confusion.
 
"W-?" he asked the towel.
 
It didn't have anything to say for itself.
 
No answers forthcoming from the cloth, Nick turned his attention to their surrounds.  They were in a spaceship - of sorts.  The room was round(ish), and extremely white.  He suspected the ship was brand-spanking new, what with a few control consoles still wrapped in plastic.  In a corner slumped what appeared to be an inactive proto-android.  He could see a console the length of a wall, where Sarah was flipping switches seemingly at random.  It was an odd amalgam of anachronistic controls on a clearly futuristic structure.
 
"Hang on to your, er, hats?" Sarah said as she pulled an improbably large lever.
 
Several things happened at once.  Firstly, the entire interior of the "ship" completely changed in an instant.  Where there was a console before was a long window box full of petunias.  The white decor was now garishly bright pink, with padded and cushioned walls.  A spiral staircase appeared in the middle of the room going absolutely nowhere.  Secondly, both Sarah and Nick suddenly sported hats.  A black bowler for her, and a chartreuse fascinator with a large bow for him.  Thirdly, a two-headed, three-armed "human" blinked into existence long enough to raise a tumbler of unidentifiable beverage in toast and wink largely before disappearing entirely.  Fourthly, the starfield visible through the ship's ports completely changed.  And finally, Nick held a small cup of liquid that was not entirely unlike tea.
 
"W-?" was Nick's response to the entirely improbable turn of events.
 
Sarah pulled a few more levers before grabbing Nick's hand again and pulling him along, "Come on, I've set the ship on autopilot for landing.  Don't forget your towel.  Oh, and watch out for mice."
 
[Surface]
 
"Oh good, an entirely desolate plain.  A fine place to lay down and rust for a thousand years."
 
Nick nearly jumped at the melancholic voice behind them.  He and Sarah had just stepped out of the ship when the possibly-android spoke.  He had, apparently, followed them.
 
Sarah rolled her eyes and waved a hand dismissively, "Oh, don't mind him."
 
"Oh, sure, dismiss the android with a brain the size of a planet.  I'll just sit over here and wait for my circuits to fuse.  Will that make you happy?"
 
Nick blinked multiple times.  The android was apparently installed with an emotion circuit, though it seemed to be locked into a depressed state with passive-aggressive tendencies.
 
Sarah shrugged to Nick, "I honestly don't know why I keep him in the program.  Amusement factor, maybe?"
 
Nick looked to the android, "I don't know, he could be useful.  Calculating figures and lifting things."
 
"A glorified calculator and forklift am I?  I suppose that's better than being a doorstop.  Though not by much, mind."
 
As Nick's face colored in embarrassment, Sarah stifled a laugh behind the back of a hand.  "Right, time's a wasting.  Let's go see what's what."
 
Nick looked back to their ship, "So why did we come here in the... Italian restaurant?" Improbably, their vessel had changed it's exterior as well.
 
"The ultimate answer."
 
"To what?"
 
"The ultimate question."
 
"Which is?"
 
Sarah simply shrugged.  "We're supposed to go see this ancient computer which has been calculating the answer for over seven million years."
 
Nick blinked, that was an extraordinarily long time.  They began walking towards the only shape on the otherwise flat horizon.  Not far from their ship, a square piece of ground shot up a thousand feet, supported by a steel tower.  Once it stopped, a door opened, near to where Sarah was leading.  Before she could even shout, a large, green, hideous monstrosity grabbed her and pulled her inside the structure.  Within seconds the door had closed, the structure slipping back into the planet.  The abduction happened so rapidly that Nick was in mid-stride when the ground returned to normal.  "Gordon Bennett," he mentioned to nobody in particular.
 
Suddenly feeling all alone, he turned to his remaining companion - the melancholy android.  "We have to rescue her.  Can you get into that... er, thing?"
 
The android looked at Nick with what could only be described as disinterested eyes.  "Oh now you need my help.  Am I to do everything then?"
 
"Would you rather do nothing?"
 
The android shrugged, but walked over to where the square of dirt was.  He probed with a metallic foot until he found what he was looking for.  "An entirely boring task," he said as he toed something just under the dirt.  The square tower shot vertically once again, but did not retreat once the access door was uncovered.  The android reached over and keyed a panel, at which the door opened to admit the pair.
 
[????]
 
Nick glanced around at the vaguely industrial surrounds.  "Where in the Wide World of Sports are we?"
 
The android shrugged, "It doesn't really matter."
 
Nick glanced askance at the dismissive android and sighed, "Well, there's only one exit, so..."
 
They proceeded carefully down various corridors, heading deeper into the unidentifiable structure.  Nick could hear a peculiar voice echoing through the corridors, though he could not discern any words.  Somehow, he felt he was glad of that.
 
Eventually, he reached the terminus of their journey.  Sarah was strapped to some sort of table, lifted to a high angle, metal clasps holding her limbs fast.  Another, more specialized clasp, held her head in place, though for some reason left her ears free.  Before her stood the large, green monstrosity what grabbed her.  He- er, it- It held a book too small for it's bulbous hands, open to some page.  And it was reading.  Aloud.
 
"Ode to a lump of sputum found betwixt my toes..." it began, genuflecting graphically with it's horrid poetry.
 
Nick cringed and held his hands to his ears, doing his level best to keep from revisiting his lunch.  Sarah grit her teeth, attempting to withstand the third worst poetry in the universe.
 
The android shrugged, "Could be worse," he said as he simply stepped over to the obese green creature.  A gentle metallic hand pushed the poetry book to the side as the android whispered something into the creature's... ear?  The poetry quieted as the creature's attention waned.  Suddenly, it fell to the floor, the poetry forgotten as it began weeping uncontrollably.
 
Nick's eyes went wide, "What did you tell it?"
 
The android shrugged, "Perspective." was all he said, before dragging the thing to another room where he left it.
 
Nick shook his head and began unstrapping Sarah's binds.  With her free, he supported her by the waist as he helped her hop down to the floor, her arms falling around Nick's neck.  "You didn't have to come get me," she said, failing to retreat from their proximity.
 
Nick, momentarily lost in her eyes, said at last, "Sure I did.  What sort of man leaves a girl behind?"
 
"It's the holodeck," she said, twirling her fingers around the hair on the back of his head, "You could have just ended the program."
 
Nick simply shrugged with a smile.  Their embrace closed completely, their lips meeting.  The kiss was different than the one back on Harmony; there was something more behind it, and it lasted far longer.
 
"Oh sure, forget about me, why don't you.  I'll just stand over here awaiting the heat-death of the universe then."
 
OFF:
 
LtCdr Nicholas Davies
Chief Science Officer
USS Oberon
 
Lt Sarah Monroe [NPC]
Xenobiologist
USS Oberon (TDY)
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Sam Jones
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General Discussion  - 
 
I've been working on a new(ish) project.  This history archive focuses on Tango Fleet and Sixth Fleet sims from TF's inception to today.  I've only got a few pages complete, but I'm looking for any historical files anyone may have for old sims... Descriptions of each game and areas of responsibility, and any CO and XO biographies that might still exist.
What's all this then? This is a labor of love, honoring memories of Tango Fleet and Sixth Fleet. With old webpages disappearing by the day, this is an attempt to record and archive histories of the illustrious sims in both fleets.
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I cannot wait for this. :D
 
New Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. trailer! Can't wait for this show!
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I'm curious to know what +Jake Weisz thinks of this.  Granted, it is cracked.com...
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That I think Google's going to keep the platform closed and not involve other OEMs, and Google sucks at releasing products.
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Mary Sue

I took this test a loooong time ago for some of my original characters, and decided to do it again for my newer ones.  Predictably, my Klingon scored rather high, but the others were more reasonable.  Pretty good, I think.

LtCdr Hannah Conant (CSO, USS Lancelot): 12
LtCdr Nicholas Davies (CSO, USS Oberon): 10
Cdr Taylor Ashley (CO, USS Telesto): 21
R.Adm Mek'tor (Transitioned to NPC): 24

So, how do your characters stand?
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No, basically what you were saying is since you that had a character who did a whole bunch of things that you disapprove of, it invalidated the mental illness question of the Mary Sue test entirely. The example had nothing to do with whether or not the person would have passed a Mary Sue test, failed it, or scored middle of the range.

The Mary Sue test is not the end all be all. If you have a character who scores a 12 on the Mary Sue test, and the player is still a self-righteous prick who doesn't let you respond the way he/she doesn't want you to, it's still going to be a miserable game. If the player is awesome, it doesn't matter really if the Mary Sue test gives you a 100. The Mary Sue test gives you a chance to see if your character is three-dimensional, but that's it.
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How Many Characters?

I had this thought when I realized I'm presently playing my highest number of characters (simultaneously, on different sims) in my 11-year simming career.  A whole 3.  (I was a single-character player for six years.)  But I also know others, who shall remain nameless, +Jason Atkins, who have veritable Mongol Hordes of simultaneous characters.

How many do you run, in different sims?  Is there a limit?  In extension, would you prefer your players have a limit?  Personally, I find that the sims (and characters) start to run together, sometimes making it hard to remember who you're writing.
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I can usually handle about ten. After that i just can't keep up. Currently i only have three going and only one of them is a Cash.
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Got a new phone. Droid RAZR M. Pretty nice, definitely an upgrade from my Incredible 2.
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Bahahaha.  Is anyone really surprised?  Not me.
The HTC First, or "Facebook phone" as many prefer to call it, is officially a flop. It certainly wasn't a good sign when AT&T dropped the price of HTC's First to $0.99 just one month after its ...
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My thesis defense is today... Am I nervous? Yeah, probably a little.

Almost done.
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Thanks go to +Piotr Mierzejewski for finding the list this post is on again for me.  It was originally a list for a three-sim JM, later commandeered by another Sixth Fleet game.
The post is five years old and takes place near the middle of the mission.  There's a rather significant space battle going on between Romulans and the Federation (and Klingon allies).  The Romulans are working towards taking over a Federation starbase, but we don't know that yet.  ;)  Small note, the starship in question here is the Prometheus-class USS Saturn-B, split into MVAM.  Mek'tor is commanding the middle module.
The post is kinda on the long side, clocking in at around 3200 words.


ON:

Mek'tor grinned predator-like as the middle module sidled up to the stricken Norexan warbird.  He turned to T'Vell, "Lieutenant, life-signs aboard the warbird?"

"Readings are somewhat unreliable, Sir, but I am detecting no more than 20 life-signs scattered throughout the ship."

The XO nodded, "Good.  Assemble a team and get over there.  I want as much intel as we can get.

T'Vell raised an eyebrow, "Sir?  You wish me to lead an away team to the Romulan ship?"  She paused, "Would it not be more logical to send a Security or Tactical Officer?"

Mek'tor bared his teeth although T'Vell was unsure whether he was grinning or preparing for combat, "No, Lieutenant, it would not be more logical."  He raised a hand to silence the calm argument he knew he was going to get and looked around the bridge, "Anyone here speak Romulan?"

A couple of the bridge crew raised a hand and Mek'tor growled, "How many of you can read it as well?"

The hands went down.  "If you want a logical answer, Lieutenant…", he stressed her rank slightly.  Just enough for her to get the message, "…there it is.  Now, assemble a team and get me intelligence."

T'Vell inclined her head, impressed with the Klingon's use of logic.  Obviously he had considered a factor that she had not.  One more thing to get used to about serving aboard a Starship, she decided.

"Very well, Commander."  She tapped her comm. badge, "Security Team to meet me in Transporter Room 3.  Be prepared for hostile environment."  She then opened a channel to the Science Lab in this module of the ship, "T'Vell to the Science Lab"

=A= Ensign Brown (NPC) here, Lieutenant, go ahead. =A=

"Meet me in Transporter Room 3, Ensign.  We are going to investigate a damaged Warbird."

=A= Aye, Sir. =A=

Mek'tor grinned as he watched the Scientist assemble her team.  He took pleasure in showing her another piece of logic.

He knew Starfleet Regulations specifically restricted starship captains from taking part on away missions, so he named T'Vell the team's leader.  (She was his XO after all, the usual choice for away team leader.)  Though he also remembered certain captains taking liberty with that rule... namely legends such as Kirk and Picard.

He leaned back and regarded the crippled warbird in the main viewer.

Maybe he could find a way to get over there and engage in some hand-to-hand fighting...

=Transporter Room 3=
=2 minutes later=

With the exception of T'Vell, everyone assembled in the Transporter Room, including the 4 Security Officers and the other Science Officer were all wearing sealed combat armour.

T'Vell looked distinctly out of place wearing an ordinary white EVA suit.  She could have had a set of armour replicated to replace the set of her own that was currently in the Top Module of the Saturn but she had never felt comfortable wearing it.  In any event, she did not want any distractions from her information gathering mission…and combat armour was definitely a…distraction.

Besides the Science kit and tricorder she was carrying T'Vell was armed only with a phaser.  Her job was to find information, she had decided, not to fight.

She glanced around the assembled Officers, "Are we ready?"

A chorus of "Aye ma'am." And "Yes, sir" was the response.

"Very well", she pointed to 2 of the Security officers and Ensign Brown, "You will beam across in the second team to a corridor in the port ventral hull."

She indicated herself and the other 2 Security officers, "We will beam to a similar corridor in the starboard dorsal hull." She paused, "Questions?"

There were none so she tapped her comm. badge, "T'Vell to the bridge"

=A= Mek'tor here, Lieutenant.  Are you ready? =A=

"Yes, Sir."

=A= Then go. =A=

She raised an eyebrow, "Yes, sir."

She turned and nodded to the Transporter operator as she stepped on to the platform, "Energise."

=Meanwhile=
=Avatar of Katrel=
=Bridge=

The Romulan Commander blinked his eyes rapidly to try and clear his vision but it did no good.  What he didn't realise that the blood vessels in one eye had ruptured completely as he had killed his political officer when the bridge had been exposed to the vacuum of space.

The political officer had had the foresight to wear a vac suit to the bridge.  The Commander had decided that his need had been greater.

He looked around at the shattered remains of the bridge.  The bridge was bathed in the green glow of lights emanating from the various consoles on the bridge.  It had been an excellent design idea to have the bridge powered by a separate source of power.  Unfortunately in this case it was useless as the remainder of the ship had little or no power.

Ai'Luxor (that was his name although no one had called him that for almost twenty years) looked up as a shadow crossed across the bridge.  Through a gaping hole he saw the Federation ship that had led him into the cunning trap that had destroyed his ship (he had vaporised the body of his helmsman and it had made him feel a little better) glide closer.

He stood and moved toward the rear of the bridge.  Sliding a computer console to one side, he revealed a small passageway that led back towards the main part of the ship.  Grinning madly, he stepped inside and began to mutter to himself…

Few of the Romulans had survived the vicious and cunning trap.  Most of the interior was evacuated of air, and those few compartments that still had air were steadily losing it.  (Or not so steadily, in the case of Centurions unwittingly opening doors.)  The 20 survivors out of the hundreds who served aboard had been close enough to don vac suits when the ship lost pressure.  Unfortunately that meant that the majority of those survivors were engineers or techs who were stationed near airlocks.  Only half of their number were security personnel.

But being Romulan, they all had found weapons and would defend the ship against boarders, and likely die in it's defense.  Three of the highest ranking engineers headed off to Engineering to initiate the self-destruct.  They wouldn't let the ship fall into Federation hands.

"I'm detecting boarders on both sides." one Centurion stated as he consulted a Romulan hand sensor device.

"Let's split our forces," came the reply over the headset comms, "Half of us will head starboard, the others port.  The engineers will continue to Engineering."

The scattered Romulans quickly sprang into action, heading down the corridors to intercept the Federation infiltrators.

=Elsewhere=

T'Vell and her team of two Security Officers materialised into chaos.  Strobing lights, debris scattered throughout the corridor and bodies drifting through patches of the interior of the vessel where the artificial gravity had failed.

She tapped her comm. badge, "T'Vell to Ensign Brown, report"

=A= We're fine, Lieutenant. =A=

"Make your way to Engineering.  We will head to the bridge."

=A= Understood.  Brown, out. =A=

T'Vell consulted her tricorder and made to move up the corridor.  She felt an hand on her shoulder and was grateful for the fact that she was wearing an EVA suit.  Suppressing a shudder, she turned to look at the Security Officer that had touched her.

"Yes?"

"Ma'am, how about you let one of us go first?", he held up his compression rifle, "We're better suited to deal with any threats."

She nodded and stepped aside to let him edge past her.

He managed to get three steps before a green disruptor blast appeared as if by magic and struck him full in the helmet, knocking him backwards.  T'Vell did not need medical training to know that the man was dead instantly.

She reached out, as if in slow motion to grasp the mans compression rifle.  Her fingers closed over empty air as the other Security Officer knocked her to the ground and returned fire.

The air seemed criss-crossed with green and orange bursts of light and it seemed an eternity before she heard her name called, "Lieutenant T'Vell?  Are you alright, Ma'am?"

She simply nodded.

"It's OK Ma'am.  There were only two of them and they're both dead.  We can carry on now."

=Engineering=

The three Romulan engineers made their way through access tunnels and finally arrived in Engineering.  They got to work quickly, accessing the self-destruct protocol and activating it.  The computer sounded a klaxon, "Enter voice print identification."

"Centurion Volan, code alpha 878, authorize self-destruct."

"Lieutenant Prem, code omega 235, authorize self-destruct."

"Lieutenant T'Brell, code tango 552, authorize self-destruct."

Volan, as the highest rank spoke, "Computer, set timer to twenty minutes.  Quiet countdown."

The computer raised an alarm klaxon and announced throughout the ship in Romulan, "Self-destruct activated.  Twenty minute countdown, there will be no other warning."

The three engineers grinned coldly to one another and gripped their disruptors.  They turned to find some Federation dogs to murder, and immediately Prem was felled by multiple orange blasts, his pressure suit breached, leaking air and blood.

Ensign Brown and her team were hunkered down near the access hatch.  The two standing Romulans dove for cover as the Federation team tried to draw beads on them.  Ensign Brown chastised into her comm link, "I didn't mean for everyone to shoot the same Romulan..."  She sighed and watched as her (very green) team failed to take out all three at once, and allowed two of them to find cover.  Fire was exchanged by both sides, impacting the bulkheads and other random bits of the vessel that were in between.

Ensign Brown frowned, they were going nowhere fast.  The Romulans were obviously more experienced, they continually changed position, slowly but surely coming closer to flanking her team.  She had to figure something out quickly, or else they'd all be killed.  She looked around, looking for some sort of advantage, something she could utilize.  The Romulans were keeping low, out of the line of fire.  They were used to this, she lamented.

Then she saw what she needed.  For the Romulans to flank her team, they had to cross in front of one of the coolant tubes heading towards the singularity core.  They were counting on the inexperience of the team, but Ensign Brown saw it.  She switched her comms on, "Team, everyone focus your fire on where I'm about to shoot.  Make sure your phasers are set to maximum."  She heard the requisite "aye sir"s and nodded.  Glancing back out she nodded, just a few more seconds...  "3... 2... 1... Fire!"

Ensign Brown fired her weapon into the coolant line.  She smiled as she saw two other orange lines of energy converge on the same spot.  Out of the corner of her eye she saw the two Romulans try and dive out of the way, but it was too late.  Within moments the pipe heated and buckled, coolant spraying all over.  Where it impacted the Romulans' plastic survival suits, it melted away and failed, their precious air siphoning out into the room.  The two dropped to the floor and gasped for oxygen.  As the automatic relief system kicked into place, the coolant leak dribbled to a stop.  Ensign Brown and her team emerged and approached their two accosters.  She noticed burn marks where the acidic coolant breached their suits and reached skin.  They continued to gasp for air, and she didn't want to worry about one of them suddenly grabbing her ankle, so she took them out of their misery with two carefully aimed phaser shots.  She looked around, and after her team reported all clear she tapped her command comm line, "Ensign Brown to Lt T'Vell, Engineering is secure, sir."

=A= Acknowledged.  Do you happen to speak Romulan, Ensign? =A=

Brown looked at the Security Officers with her and shrugged, "No Sir, I don't."

=A= I see.  Then I should inform you that the self destruct sequence has been activated.  You have 18 minutes and 22 seconds to see if you can deactivate it. =A=

Brown swallowed, "Aye, Sir."

=Elsewhere=

T'Vell and the one remaining Security Officer had managed to make their way to the forward part of the ship. 

"Do you think we can override the self destruct from the bridge, Lieutenant?"

T'Vell raised an eyebrow, "I do not know.  Even if we are unable to do so, we should be able to download much of the computer database from the Command Console on the bridge."

"How far away are we?"

"It should be 3 more meters down this corridor and through one last door."

"How long do we have?"

"11 minutes and 14 seconds."

=One minute and four seconds later=

T'Vell stepped onto the bridge and looked around.  Although her field of vision was impaired by the helmet of the EVA suit she was wearing, she could still see enough of the devastation to deduce that the crew on the bridge had not died easily.

She glanced down.  One of the bodies even looked as though it had been stabbed, probably caused by a piece of flying debris.

A sparkle of light caught her eye and she looked up.  Through the gaping hole in the ceiling, she could see the middle module of the Saturn hovering in space.

'It is understandable how humans can be captivated by such a sight', she thought.

Shaking her head and mentally chiding herself, she located the Command console and was surprised to see that it was not only operational, but it had not been locked out.  She had full access to the ship's systems.

"Lieutenant, look OUT!"

She turned to see her companion throw himself in front of a downward sweep of a wicked looking blade wielded by a disheveled looking Romulan.

She was knocked off her feet and against a console as the Security Officer was stabbed and then stabbed again.  Air and body fluids leaking into the vacuum of space.

The computer inside her suit sounded a warning, =A= Suit integrity compromised.  Loss of atmosphere in 90 seconds. =A=, as she looked up into the mad grinning eyes of her, apparent, Romulan killer.

Behind the Romulan, a blue column of light silently deposited a form on the Romulan bridge.  The Bat'leth immediately went up, and the face within the soft EVA suit contorted into a shouted battlecry.  Mek'tor only wore the minimum required to operate safely in vacuum, a soft pressure suit, with maybe fifteen minutes of air and without a heater coil.  Even with Klingon endurance, he wouldn't be able to remain on the ship for long.

Events suddenly went into slow-motion.  Ai'Luxor pulled his blade from the security officer's limp body for the last time and sneered at T'Vell.  Mek'tor's boots silently hit the deck of the bridge.  One, two, three, four.  The Romulan must have sensed the Klingon's approach, for his face contorted into confusion and turned towards Mek'tor.

Suddenly, sparks flew as the blades met.  Speed apparently had gone to normal as Mek'tor's bat'leth arced in a blur, coming down in a vicious overhead chop.  Ai'luxor wasn't a novice at hand-to-hand fighting, and he brought his dagger up to the perfect blocking position.

The two combatants grimaced at one another.  Mek'tor's baritone rang through T'Vell's comm unit, =A= Get that data, Lieutenant! =A=, as they broke from each other and began to turn, Ai'Luxor clockwise, Mek'tor anticlockwise.  T'vell nodded as she saw her XO was taking the battle away from the command console, enough for her to access it and get the data.

As T'Vell worked, Ai'Luxor charged Mek'tor, trying to force him into T'Vell and to push the Vulcan away from the console.  Mek'tor met the charge and turned the blade with his bat'leth.  The Romulan seemed to expect it, the bulk of his body continued to push forward.  Mek'tor, however, stood his ground.  He took the opportunity to punch the Romulan in the side, watching with satisfaction as the Romulan's arm twitched and his side buckled.  Immediately the Romulan turned and brought his knife to bear, inside Mek'tor's reach.

The big Klingon couldn't block or dodge, all he could do was deflect the strike.  He brought his arm around and punched the Romulan's wrist.  The blade wavered and deflected... but not enough.  The blade slid silently into Mek'tor's shoulder, the Klingon growled to himself in his helmet.  He brought his arm up and backhanded the Romulan hard in the helmet, cracking his faceplate.

Ai'Luxor immediately stepped back, his hand slipping off his blade.  Mek'tor shouted silently and brought his bat'leth around and gripped it in two hands, bringing maximum force to bear.  The Romulan looked to the Klingon just in time to watch the blade sever his left arm off at the elbow.  He immediately passed out from sheer shock and fell to the side, his blood and air gushing into vacuum.

Mek'tor grunted as he leaned against the command console, his voice rasping over the comm, =A= Lieutenant, how much time do we have? =A=

"One minute forty seven seconds."  She glanced up and noticed the knife in his shoulder, "You should remove that, commander."  Her hands still danced over the console, her tricorder resting to the side, open.

=A= No, Lieutenant.  It is keeping a seal for now. =A=  

Ens Brown came over the comms then, =A= Ma'am, I can't deactivate the self destruct! =A=

T'Vell nodded as she finished her work and closed her tricorder, "No matter, Ensign.  Prepare your team for transport."  She then switched over to the Saturn's channel, "T'Vell to Saturn, transport all life-signs on my mark."  She would have given more explicit instructions, say to separate ant Romulans to the Brig, but this was the time to maximise succinctness.  She hoped the officer manning the transport button had the presence of mind to do so unbidden.

"Mark." she said as her finger hit the command console, activating the one remaining impulse engine at maximum thrust.  Immediately, everyone alive on the Avatar of Katrel was enveloped in blue columns and whisked away.

Everyone except Ai'Luxor.  Whether the Saturn's sensors didn't detect him as still marginally alive, or perhaps they used all available patterns in the system in the one beam, nobody would know for certain.  He blinked his eyes open, his arm painfully absent.  He noted it laying a few meters away.  He then looked up through the gaping hole in the ceiling, to see the Saturn and the starbase gradually receding and spinning.  He lifted his truncated arm as if to shake it and shouted.

=Space=

The badly damaged Norexan warbird slowly flew "downwards" in a spiral away from the starbase and the Saturn, spinning due to only having one operational impulse engine.  After a few seconds, the singularity core went critical, immolating the warbird in an orange and green fireball.  The shock wave buffeted the Saturn and the starbase, dealing little damage to both.

=USS Saturn=
=Bridge=

Mek'tor grinned as he dropped his EVA helmet and watched the warbird detonate.  "Did you get that data, Lieutenant?"

T'Vell, her helmet already neatly placed to the side of her workstation turned, "Of course, Commander.  I was able to download thirty four percent of the Romulan's computer core.  The remainder was in storage devices that were damaged.

Mek'tor nodded, "Excellent.  Transmit that data to the Commodore."  He grunted as he fell into his command chair and ripped the serrated Romulan blade from his shoulder.  He eyeballed it a moment then slipped it next to him on the command chair while the bridge medic field-patched his wound.  A fitting souvenir, he thought.
 

OFF:

MEK'TOR, CDR, STARFLEET
Executive Officer, USS Saturn

&

Lieutenant (Junior Grade) T'Vell (oO)
Chief Science Officer
USS Saturn NCC 2822-B
Task Force 3 – Sixth Fleet RPG
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This mission also includes one of my favorite scenes, though I'm sure it has been done to death before.  lol.


[Middle Module]

Mek'tor grinned as the D'deridex-class warbird loomed large in his viewscreen. They were heading straight for it. "What's their shield status?"

"They're at critical, sir. One more torpedo spread should do it."

The Klingon nodded, "Load both fore and aft launchers and await my command to fire."

"Sir?"

"Do it."

"Aye, sir! Loading all fore and aft launchers."

Mek'tor leaned forward as the distance closed, "Read off distances, please."

His tactician nodded and wiped beads of sweat from his forehead as he read them off, systematically. "One million kilometers, seven hundred fifty thousand kilometers, five hundred thousand kilometers, two hundred thousand kilometers, one hundred thousand kilometers, sir!"

Mek'tor laughed, "Fire foreward torpedoes!"

The full spread of torpedoes launched out and impacted the warbird's shields, followed closely by the Saturn's middle module. Mek'tor grabbed his chair's armrest as the ship shook from the shock wave. "Don't deviate, Ensign!" he shouted as he saw his helmsman begin to make course corrections. "Steady as she goes, make sure we don't hit her as we pass through."

The Ensign gulped and grabbed the Manual Steering Column at his station.

After a moment, "We're passing between the warbird, sir!"

"Fire aft torpedoes into their primary hull."

As the Middle Module of the Saturn sliced cleanly through the D'deridex's void area between decks, her aft torpedoes fired a massive volley. They split into two groups, some impacting the hull above, some below. The result was devastating to the warbird. The explosions hit precisely the right spot, and the forward section of the ship broke off from the rest, pieces of hull floating in the space between hulls. As the Middle Module of the Saturn barrel-rolled away at full impulse, secondary explosions peppered the warbird, until it's warp core went critical and the whole ship exploded.
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Sam Jones

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Because I have to share the hilarity.
I injured myself laughing so hard at this.
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Sam Jones
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That awkward moment when you find an old (unused) bio while sorting through sim files, get an overwhelming urge to play the character, and not be able to justify playing them.  >_<

That said, anyone know of any active Stargate sims about?  >_>
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Good effort though.
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