soph
Recruit
Posts: 34
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Post by soph on Mar 20, 2017 13:19:39 GMT
A gets all but 2% of the credit....I may have Feyna'd it up a bit at the end.
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Post by antoniomb on Mar 20, 2017 17:22:55 GMT
I only just read Einar and A's posts.
They were just...amazing. Really, really nice.
I would love to add Goodman's take on this or perhaps an "after-the-incident" post, but unfortunately at the moment I'm not in the state of mind to do so as my head is thinking of various sound technobabbly-stuff these days...
Still, can't wait for next Monday.
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Post by Einar on Mar 21, 2017 8:32:12 GMT
I only just read Einar and A's posts. They were just...amazing. Really, really nice. I would love to add Goodman's take on this or perhaps an "after-the-incident" post, but unfortunately at the moment I'm not in the state of mind to do so as my head is thinking of various sound technobabbly-stuff these days... Still, can't wait for next Monday. I would love to read that buddy!
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Post by Rob W on Mar 22, 2017 3:15:47 GMT
Acrid smoke hung in the air like an eerie fog, filling the bridge with the smell of burning circuitry. Eli choked back a cough as the Breen opened up on the Hyperion, disruptor fire arcing across the modules burning and scarred hull. Dozens of fires raged across the ship, breaches opening faster than the crew could close them. Everywhere he looked was chaos, a burning inferno in space littered with the corpses of ships and crew alike. Another salvo rocked the Hyperion, sending another shower of sparks and debris about the bridge as the ship heaved and moaned under the burden. Across his console alarms in every part of the ship screamed for attention as the damage mounted.
The Hyperion was dying.
Desperately, he glanced back at the open comm to the fleet hurtling towards them from DS9. Interference from the Breen made it impossible to gauge precisely when they would arrive but he couldn’t hold down desperately hope for someone to break through. Across the bridge, Rome hefted a fallen crewman towards the turbo lift. Danann hammered onto the Nav console trying to force the Hyperion to respond. Lyon’s Beta module lurched across the flickering screen charred and limping, unleashing its final fiery breath towards into the Breen cruisers stalking her. Eli struggled to hold it together, desperately rerouting everything the bleeding ship had left to her defense. As he wrenched the last bit of life from the Hyperion, a small blip announced itself on the long range sensors, followed by another and another. Eli felt his heart skip a beat as the first signs of the relief fleet began dropping onto their farthest range. The Hyperion and their tiny fleet of desperation had done the impossible and he didn’t care to fight back the tears of relief streaming down his face as he looked towards Rome.
A spray of searing metal, glass, and fire engulfed Eli as the bridge rocked under Breen fire. Shards of white hot metal shot through him like shrapnel, tearing into lungs and organs as he flew back from the explosion. Eli rolled to one side, shock dulling his senses as his mind struggled to focus. As his vision ebbed in and out he could see Captain Rome kneeling beside him through the hazy but couldn’t quite make out the words he was saying. Eli’s head lolled back as he struggled to make his body move, his mouth open to speak. A wet gurgling was all he could muster as blood began to fill his lungs and the pain shot through him. The pain was beyond anything he had ever felt or imagined and only increase as the security officer began dragging him towards the turbo lift doors.
As he was dragging into the lift, the security officer reassuring him he was going to be ok, Eli could feel darkness closing in. As he lost the fight with unconsciousness, through the fog of smoke and pain he saw them together for the last time…His captain, his crew. Memories of past moments, words spoken and unspoken flooded his dimming thoughts. They were more than crewmembers or friends. They had been leaders when he needed to be led, mentors when he needed to learn, and confidants when he needed more. He reached out towards them with a bloodied hand, as if he could grab hold of the moment and freeze it in time.
The lift doors closed, speeding them off as darkness finally took him.
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Post by Einar on Mar 23, 2017 9:20:11 GMT
Wow Rob, thanks for that!
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Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2017 9:13:46 GMT
It seemed fitting that even in death, Jonathan Rome would burden Thalev Idrani in his own unique way. In his hands, the Andorian held a padd listing all the items Rome had left him in his last will and testament. They were, of course, nearly all bottles of alcohol, some with stardates so old he was almost afraid to open them. He'd get over it. But now he had to feel indebted to Jonathan even after the bastard was gone.
He put the padd down on the table, walked over to a crate and pulled out a bottle of scotch. That would be for Captain Ethan MacAllister, the first Captain that Rome and Idrani had served under all those years ago. Ethan had a fondness for a good single-malt scotch, a fondness that had grown stronger while having to deal with Thalev and Jonathan. This bottle was an impressive 70 years old, about as old as Thalev felt nowadays.
Another bottle. Andorian Ale. So, Jonathan had liked Andorian Ale after all. He knew it! He gave a wry smile and put that particular bottle aside for himself. He'd need a good drink after this afternoon. He checked the chronometer hanging on the wall next to one of Sara's guitars. He still had a few more minutes.
Thalev sat for a moment, trying to gain a little composure before he'd have to give the speech. He took a breath, paused, and exhaled as he hung his head, then brought it upright again. That's when he saw something odd about one of the crates, a thin crack on the left side, an almost imperceptible straight line. Curious, he stepped over and bent down to investigate, rubbing his hand along the side, letting his finger follow the crack until he found a pressure point revealing a secret compartment.
A hidden bottle, wide at the base, clear glass with watery looking contents a slightly lighter blue than his own skin. It had been opened and re-corked, about one third missing from the bottle. Thalev gently removed it, rotated it looking for some sort of label. Finding none, he pulled out the cork, put the bottle to his nose and instantly recognized the smell of Romulan Ale. Idrani let out a chuckle, re-corked it and put it back in the crate.
Time to go. He checked his dress uniform once more in the mirror before heading out. Since retiring, he'd let his hair grow a little longer, the white fringe dropping a little over his forehead and partially covering the remaining implant he'd been left with after a particularly nasty encounter with the Borg. Below it, his artificial eye looked back at him. The Doctor had done a good job; it was hardly different from his other eye. His stump of an antenna, the implants, the scars - they were all testament to the missions he'd shared with Jonathan. It had been a team led by Jonathan and Ethan that had saved him that time. There were countless other examples. It was enough to make you think they were invincible, that nothing could have stopped them. The news of Jonathan's death cruelly put an end to any such thoughts.
The room already hosted a number of Jonathan's closest friends, those who had served alongside him or under his command. Some faces were wet, others were stiff with clenched jaws. Idrani stepped up to the hastily-made podium, looked out at the small crowd of people, glad this would be an intimate memorial of the man rather than a cold impersonal event. A deep breath, then another. One more.
"Jonathan Rome. When I first met him, I didn't like him much. Well, that's an understatement. He was cocky. Brash. He flirted with the regulations… and every female in sight. I was a Lieutenant at the time, arrogant, stuck in his ways and a stickler for the rules, naïve in many ways. As you can imagine, we didn't exactly get on, but as he was Chief of Engineering and I was the Chief of Operations, we had to work together quite a bit. I disliked him, but don't worry, the feeling was quite mutual. We soon went out of our way to annoy each other, little things here and there, jibes and back-handed insults. Some less-subtle insults. He quickly resorted to nicknaming me Smurf, and only increased its use and spread the name around with more enthusiasm when he saw how it irritated me. It is a nickname that has stuck with me ever since.
"It is almost fate, then, that after some time of this, it would be the two of us involved in a transporter accident that saw both of us merged into one body. It was… unsettling, let's say, sharing a mind with him. Thankfully, the accident was reversed and we both got our own bodies back. They were in a much better condition back then, of course.
"Shortly after this incident, we realised we'd changed. We understood each other, we’d lived each other's emotions, felt each other's pride, remembered each other's memories, cowered behind each other's vulnerabilities. We changed each other, for the better. At first, it was odd, and something we thought would fade over time as we regained our individuality, got back into a routine and started working together again. And in a way, it did fade, getting replaced instead by earned respect and understanding, through the experiences we shared, the missions we completed, the mutual friends we lost along the way.
"He was the noblest of men, always there for those who needed him, always willing to put his life on the line in the name of duty, in the name of friendship. I have lost count of the number of times he saved my life. He saved many lives, and he spent a lot of time in sickbays across the galaxy recovering from those life-saving efforts. That's how he earned his very first command, single-handedly saving an entire ship by exposing himself to deadly levels of radiation. And in a way, he died as he lived. Saving others with no regard for his own safety, the ultimate sacrifice, and I think… no, I know, he did it without second thoughts, without regrets, and I know he'd do it again.
"I say we can all learn a thing or two from the bastard, and while the overwhelming pain of his loss will never leave me, when I think of him I'm going to gain strength, I'm going to remember the sort of man he was and strive to live my life as he did his. There are very few people I call friend. Jonathan was one of those people, and even in death he continues to teach me, to guide me."
The Romulan Ale didn't last long.
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Post by Einar on Mar 31, 2017 9:50:56 GMT
Smurf,
Thank you for that. I have read it over and over again and it made me realize how I am going to miss the two of them speaking (arguing).
Thank you for all the kind words my friend.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2017 11:05:38 GMT
Exactly. 12 years serving together will do that! You're very welcome. Rome will be missed.
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soph
Recruit
Posts: 34
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Post by soph on Apr 8, 2017 14:53:59 GMT
I have a quivering lower lip....
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Post by Deleted on Apr 8, 2017 15:41:06 GMT
Too much cold ice cream, Soph', that must be it.
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Post by Einar on Mar 12, 2018 10:41:51 GMT
Reading this again gives me the chills
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