Obsidian Command

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Selected Quotes March '23

Posted on 07 Apr 2023 @ 12:00am by Commander Calliope Zahn

MARCH '23 QUOTES






It was always the same. Always. “Olivia, be quiet, watch Ikemba.” “Olivia, You don’t understand. The adults are taking care of it.” Wallace didn’t think she could do anything! Ibis was a liar. A liar! One minute Ibis was telling her she was right, she was so wise, she would one day live with the Korinn. She was stupid to believe Ibis actually meant any of it!
~Camp Sunrise: Rainbow Bay, Olivia



“Fresh…” Wallace plunked his thumb down in the middle of the castle, creating a courtyard with high sand walls. “New teeth. Physical therapy so I don’t feel so old. I’m only 52, but the way I move I might as well be 102. A shower.”

“Goddesses, I’m going to live in the shower.”

“No more beaches. We’ll summer on Andoria in a snow drift and winter in the Antarctic on an ice floe.”

“Ice. I remember ice.”

“Food. Milk. No, ice cream. Every meal. Steaks and pork chops and french fries. One of those sweet Vulcan salads I always liked. No seafood. Definitely no sushi.”

“Uttaberries”

“Coffee.”

“Cheese. Whole charcuterie boards. Gonna stuff my cheeks like a squirrel.”

“Underwear.”

Ibis snorted. “I never thought I’d miss wearing bras.”

“I chafe easily, so the last eight years have been hell.” Wallace cut a moat around the castle with the side of his hand. “Olivia is going to hate us for the underwear alone. You barely can get her to put on those wraps as it is.”
~Camp Sunrise: One More Night, Porter Wallace & Ibis Xeri



For the Ferengi population the situation was dire. They, who couldn't and wouldn't stop their profitable activities, had to make a pause in their lives. From his tiny office he heard a loud argument between Asax, his wife and their daughter. If you cannot make latinum and spend it, what the heck can you do?! By the sound of it, for Mrs Asax, not being able to go to “Brilliant Gifts” to buy new pendants and necklaces, going mad was, it seemed, an option.
~Snowed In, Brek



"Mazur died in complications of a premature labor." Corell said simply and gently, then let the girl absorb that news. "The baby's father is in grief counseling. So. Someone needs to be here. I have to cover the rest of maternity and neonatal, so I can't stay here the whole day." Corell put a hand on Zuzal's shoulder. "I've seen you work with other patients. I think you'll be very good at this."

Zuzal put her hands through the containment access sleeves and ever so gently just brushed the baby's tiny round belly. She watched him reflexively startle and stretch and then munch his lips and resettle. Zuzal looked up at Nurse Corell to see if she was doing this right.

"He has good reflexes for being this premature." Corell explained. "I'll stay with you until you're both comfortable..."
~The Least of These, CR Zuzal



“It is just as well, but other people within our Alliance will take a different view on all this,” Ara continued. She sighed as heavily as a bad actress and she went on: “Do you remember our talk, some eight years ago? You were on shore leave and I made a special trip to join you in the holodeck, where some celebratory nonsense was taking place?”

“It was a promotion ceremony,” Brek corrected her.

“To quote Hewmons: Tomayto, tomahto... We had an important talk that day.”
~~~
"What are you plotting?" Ara asked after two minutes of silence.

"Not much. Catch your thief and don't worry about me. I have a good Tellarite bodyguard, and only good things are going to happen to me."

"I wish I could share your optimism. I'll contact you again as soon as the situation has improved."

The screen went blank and Brek rubbed his hands. His pedigree wasn't that rubbishy after all...
~I Know Who You Are, Brek




“It’s not Sep we need to be concerned with, it’s DeHavilland,” Callum said quietly, drawing his First Officer closer conspiratorially. “She’s overly cautious. Her lack of experience is showing,” he confided genuinely in her. He certainly wouldn't have told Sepandiyar that, but he had half a mind to have a sit down with DeHavilland about it when this was over. If he was honest with himself, he was surprised that she was being this way after having been so decisive during the fight for the station, taking her teams EVA to try and circumvent the boarders. Something clearly had changed between now and then. Maybe she'd just been desperate? He wasn't sure, but he hadn't fully decided to confront her on it yet. Regardless, now, in the thick of this wasn't the time.
~Leashed, Lachlan Calum



Our Wear and Tear Guarantee... Mister Birk," he paused, coughed and recited, "Under The Binding Terms Of Purchase of Any And All Discounted, Sale, And/Or Other Promotional Sales Of Any Description The Liability Guarantee Is Hereby Waived And All Rights Are Forfeit."

He paused and then said, "You wear it and tear it.... there is no guarantee... Mister Bruk!"

“I shan’t do such a thing, Mister Fullofit!” Brek countered. “You are not trading on an Orion or a Ferengi outpost, where everything goes according to the whims of storekeepers. Federation citizens are protected by consumers rights and those state that goods should be fit for the purpose they are supplied for, as well as any specific purpose a customer made known to the retailer before agreeing to buy the goods. I told you, this morning, that I needed formal suits. I’m not a vagrant, I run an art gallery on this station!”
~Wear and Tear, Mr. Fulcrum, Mr. Gilroy, & Brek



Wallace put Dedran Cubo’s shell back on the sand and rose. “However, I make this oath. I’ll get Ibis, Olivia and Ikemba home. I’ll get news of you and the others back to your families. And you won’t be forgotten.”

As the final words floated through the barrier that separates the worlds of living and dead, Wallace executed the first formal salute he’d made in nine years. Back straight. Feet together. Arm at a perfect 45-degree angle. Fingers extended. Thumb tucked in. Light touch to the brow.
~Camp Sunrise: Orders and Oaths, Porter Wallace



This saga was the first time he had heard of an Obsidian prehistory, a people whose homeworld was invaded, destroyed by these Black Giants forcing them to flee across space to end up on Obsidian. Truely a loss of paradise, to go from a lush green homeworld to this desert of sand and glass..

He felt a strange kinship, his own Bedouin legends recalled the Land of Dilmun, a lost paradise so different to the harsh Arabian deserts. He spoke a line to himself “For Dilmun, the land of my lady's heart, I will create long waterways, rivers and canals, whereby water will flow to quench the thirst of all beings and bring abundance to all that lives.”

~Ibn Sharjar: The Sky at Night, Stories and Legends, Atif ibn Sharjar



"Who can we get to stand in for us?"

Sylvie leaned in conspiratorially. "There was a rumor coming out of the security department that the new Vulcan security chief took a meeting with one Mr. Brek of the Timeless Treasures Gallery. I would wager that he is already trying to wheedle information about the situation from the officers."

"A natural schmoozer. He might just fit the bill."
~Tea and Conspiracy, Sylvie Hardt and A’koja Dea



"It seems a little excessive." Sylvie tilted her head in asymmetrical shrug. "But I suppose they aren't telling us something. I suspect the admiral is leaving the station management up to that Thaddeus Zayne fellow."

"Mr. Stick-up-his-ass?"

"Mmm, yes the very same." Said Sylvie. "They believe that since he operated Obsidian Command for eighteen months in a Void that he's qualified now."

"There's a little difference between a crew of eight and one of eighty thousand," A'Koja agreed.

"Ever so slightly. He's simply acting as if we're not really here at all, and can just be managed with an alarm button.”

~Tea and Conspiracy



A slight smile painted Sibyl's face, realizing that the new Department head wasn't going to be as starchy in the collar as some others in the station management. "You did, ma'am."
~Operation Introduction



But then, having a pilot with specialized underwater certifications would be a plus. But, but, but… it all left her with too many butts and not enough chairs.
~Logistical Limitations



“Move with confidence and with purpose. Her husband is already nervous. Seeing you nervous and shaky only make him worse. You’re a Physician - a healer. Not just for the sick, but for their family’s too. Take a deep breath, find your center, and be calm,” he coached him quietly.
~Late Night Wake up Call



If there was one thing he knew he had an advantage of over his Starfleet trained counterparts, it was understanding that the galaxy threw major league curveballs that the whole of the Federation and Starfleet’s technological advancements and medical therapies just weren’t ready to deal with.

He was on what may have been his third full review of it all when he came to the sudden realization that reviewing this all again wasn’t going to help anything or anyone. It was like a bucket of cold water had been tossed on him and he couldn’t bear to stare at it any longer.
~Medical Report



His knees were the first to protest – the traitors – but his back quickly joined the conversation, arguing strongly with a spasm that threatened to put him back on the floor.
~~~
Modesty of dress on the one hand seemed foolish any longer, but on the other was a scrap of dignity still left to them.
~~~
“I know.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “On the other hand, two more beatings and I get a free beating. I’ve got a loyalty card. It would feel incomplete if I just stopped at eight.”
~~~
In retrospect, her old levels of optimism seemed like a sweet poison.
~~~
She mustered a smile for Wallace’s sake. “I’ll see if there are any shifts posted for me to take when you get back.” That was how it worked, no different than it did for the enslaved Irix. No manacles. No cells. Just the desperation chaining them to as many jobs as they could bear.
~Camp Sunrise: Just One More Day



He shrugged, “I’m really sorry. Really. It slipped out. But seriously, Ibis. She terrifies me. A lifetime of combat missions, nine years of this h- ” Wallace glanced at Ikemba. “H-E-L-L hole and she is the only thing that scares the living daylights out of me.”
~Camp Sunrise: Creek Road



Rice snorted. “‘Death by suitcase’ wasn’t what I had in mind this morning. Get on over there and – ow! Okay, okay!” Rice started forward, rubbing the spot on his butt where Moon had painfully pinched him.
~~~
If she was being honest, however, other than the warnings that money made you miserable, she couldn’t remember much about how it actually worked.
~A History of Currency



Flicking her braid back she squared her shoulders and marched herself towards the scariest thing Starfleet expert combat Marine Major Porter Wallace had ever met: Olivia Winetrout, aged thirteen and full to the brim of spit and vinegar.
~Camp Sunrise: Pappa's Song



Ibis did her best to follow along with the story of the Irix youth and how enamored they were with Olivia, how they’d given her a Korinn name, literally Silver Dart— which Ibis best understood as probably translating to Minnow.
~Camp Sunrise: The Bitter Pill



Neifiel reached down and took up a handful of sand, she let it trail though her fingers. "The dead of the people were like the grains of sand, uncountable unknowable..."
~The Sky at Night, Stories and Legends



She was stuck with the problem of trying to fit a whole team into a Waverider like some kind of clown car, or else axing key skills from the team.
~~~
Cesar had never had a problem with the EVA suits, just the EVA part - the vastness of space around him always made him feel like a speck of dust in an infinite cosmos (which of course he knew he was) but without four walls around, it filled him with this impending sense of doom and terror.
~Sea & Sky: The Briefing



Uanika swam up and turned onto her back to recline as the others were. She knew from her studies that the air-breathers used something called a ‘chair’ to repose in. How could she connect with people so alien?
~~~
“Federation,” Uanika said in Standard before translating it into trata’nosa the Korinn phrase meaning ‘blended fish of different seas.’ It was the closest way to explain what a "Federation" was. There was no word like it in her language.
~~~
Tck’cos fur rippled in amusement. “Thus spoke Tuya’Yuta, the founder of Tiss’Kot. Now, she was a great crest.”

“As are you, if I may be so bold.”

“No. Mine is in title alone. Real great crests build something to last. I am simply making choices of what to give up so that we might survive.”
~~~
“You think I wanted to be Grand Crest? Before this, do you think I wanted to be Crest of the Foam Wave School of the Great Spawn Tiss’Kot? No! I wanted to garden the kelp forests and teach pups. When we have the skills, however, we are called. You are being called.”
~Under the Crystal Domes



“Great. More Pyrryx. Please tell me that they told the governor to bomb the Z’ala and blow his brains out,” Wallace said dryly. “I’d take a real beating for that to be true.”

“Almost as good. The ship wasn’t Pyrryx. They call themselves the Pathfinder and say they are from the United Federation of Planets. These are your people, yes? These pathfinders? These Federation of Planets?”

Wallace lifted his face off the sand to stare up at Pauua in shock. He almost stood the rest of the way up out of excitement, but any movement ceased abruptly when his vision erupted in stars and his head slammed back down into the sand.
~~~
Even as the whip stung his back, Wallace began to laugh hysterically from joy.
~Camp Sunrise: News Worth the Pain



The decision was made for them. Her arms flopped to her sides as she arrived at the same conclusion Wallace already had. “We have to help.”

His breathing had returned to near normal and he’d pushed himself up to a sitting position. “It’ll be my pleasure to help blow those bastards to kingdom come,” Wallace said fiercely, an ugly look in his eye.

Olivia looked horrified, unable to fully comprehend what they were both going on about, only that it sounded like the end of the world. Ikemba was still laughing and rolling on Wallace, swinging from his neck, only really understanding that something sounded especially exciting.

Realizing the children were still watching and listening to them, he softened his tone. “And to get you and the kids off this planet. That’s a dream come true.”

“Us. To get us all off this planet.” Ibis said firmly. She knew Wallace too well. Once there was combat and fire and knives were all out, he’d get wrapped up in the moment and lose his head with the smell of smoke and blood that was a Marine’s calling. She grabbed the laughing boy by his collar and lifted him to make room to wrap herself around Wallace and hug Ikemba sandwiched between them. “You let the Irix fight for themselves. We leave together, Major.”

Wallace wanted both: the release action would bring him and to be with his family as they left the rock. Before Korix, battle’s siren song would have been too strong to resist. Now, these three people were his whole reason for living. “I’m just helping with the planning. We leave together.”
~Camp Sunrise: One Way Ticket Home



“The real kicker, the real irony of the last nine years is that I’ve been miserable on this diseased rock. Every day was a struggle. I’ve been sad. Depressed. Hurt. But I think I’m better for it. I stopped wasting my life and started living it. Found family here. Let myself love and be loved. And I do love Ibis more than I can say. And against all odds I love those two kids, too. Now we have a real chance to get back home. When we do, I just don’t have any more time to give to anger and guilt. To you Commander, and all of you,” he said looking at the shells, “I did my best for everyone. Whether it was enough, well, I hope it was. That’s something you’ll need to tell me whenever we meet next, although I pray that's not anytime soon.”
~Camp Sunrise: Orders and Oaths



“Revenge is great for inspiration, bad for strategic and tactical planning,”
~~~
“Home is just a scary night away,” he said, wrapping her up in his arms. “Don’t worry, though. Scary nights are my speciality.”
~Camp Sunrise: Council of War



Even amplified and enhanced as it was, it looked like little more than a dull, gray rock floating in the black expanse of space. “Not much to look at, huh?”

“You were hoping they’d string some lights out for us?” Dave Boltri replied. “Maybe a sign that says, ‘Bad guys here, join us for Taco Tuesday?’”
~~~
Nehrim took a deep breath, waiting. With a shake of his head he replied, “No response, Captain. They’re not responding to our hails.”

There was an instant of quiet on the bridge, nobody speaking and the only sound the hum of the Wasp’s engines and the alarm klaxon. It seemed to settle in all at once what was about to happen. “Their weapons are powering up and locking on to us, Captain,” Stillwell said, his calm voice tense.

“Looks like it’s not taco Tuesday after all,” Boltri muttered to himself.
~~~

Tann nodded. "Everyone hang on to your favorite internal organ," he said, and he began a series of intense aerospace acrobatics. Evasive maneuvers designed to draw the enemy in and line them up the way he wanted. Despite the inertial dampeners and structural integrity field, the crew could feel the frame of the ship straining. Now and again, incoming weapons fire struck the shields, and there were two collisions among the enemy fighters. The last one Tann barely avoided getting hit by an out of control fighter that was knocked off course. "Wait for it, Stillwell... wait for it... on my mark... MARK!"

Stillwell saw it, like he was in a bowling alley and the pins had just come fresh out of the pin setter.
~Ride-Along: The Hard Way



And if that cost him this command, as it had the others, he could live with that. The only problem with that line of thought was that while he could live with that, his wife, Giselle could not. And no matter what pressure the Admiral, or Starfleet might put on him, there was no pressure quite like what Giselle could provide.
~Leashed



"Oh, like final logs. Mine is to my mother. Apologizing for joining Starfleet so, you know, she can rest easy knowing she was right." Ibis chortled.
~~~
Plans never survived being put into motion. Step one was the only certainty, everything after was a hope. That was the point of the letters and last logs. A person just never knew.
~Camp Sunrise: One More Night



Let them go! The island mine would be there tomorrow. Every other time the Irix had tried, they always went back to working again. The Z’ala made sure everyone did what they were supposed to do. Wallace and Ibis would take Ikemba and jump into the sky. And nothing here was going to change. It was just more talk.

Always talk. Let them take their empty talking with them too!
~Camp Sunrise: Rainbow Bay



At the Helm, Ensign Wiser tried not to get uptight at the idea of piloting the ship through the atmosphere to get some pictures of seashells. He grimaced in spite of himself.
~ Signal Loss



Iain MacTaryn sat down on the couch in the far corner of the home he shared with his wife Rose, setting a replicated meal of haggis with mashed potatoes and turnips on the ottoman cushion in front of the couch along with a large glass of scotch. This was his favorite dish, but his wife despised not only the taste of it, but the smell of it even if she wasn’t partaking. It had been a childhood staple for Iain and he never missed a chance to have it. With Rose out of the house for the night, and not due to return until mid-afternoon the next day, he felt safe letting it stink up their quarters.
~~~
“I’ve just been informed that Major Mazur has passed,” he declared matter-of-factly, feeling in his heart much the way Wellington clearly did judging by the look of incredulity on her face. “A complication of childbirth. I am leaving for Obsidian Command immediately. I’d like to take an honor guard. We will escort her back to Sol,” he explained quickly, having made the decision so rapidly he could hardly have prepared anyone, let alone himself.
~Marine Lost



Reaching into the satchel he pulled out the first of his grenades. N’to had admitted that the Korinn hadn't had the ability to test the explosives without the Z’ala discovering them, but were fairly confident they’d work. Wallace wished his friend had just kept quiet about it, because now he was worried that if he pulled the blue chord the thing would go off in his hand.
~Camp Sunshine: Follow the Rabbit



“Excellent choice! And might I say, what a wonderful day to be doing a little banking! My I have your identification please!” Prax held out a biometics scanner. Moon, who was still in the doorway, cautiously stepped forward eyeing the Bolian as if he held a knife.
~Banking



Olivia was agape, overcome by the terror of the fabled Blacker-than-night Pyrryx, the Z’ala god that she had heard so many horror tales of by her friends, and now… its spaceship. The second one tonight, and she was inside of it. Spaceships were real.
~Camp Sunrise: Excelsior



In the Operations and copilot chair was a young ferengi with a single pip as well. Quinn didn't know his name, and didn't bother inquiring as to it. He didn't fail to notice the way the young man was inhaling and exhaling through his mouth, however, and his somewhat neanderthal-like expression, with his eyes deep set under his heavy brow. It all made him doubt there was very much going on between his big ears.
~Overqualified



He continued to look around, his eyes following the shore, dotted around were several large rocks, like the one he sat on. Absently he counted them, there were eight, plus the one he was sat on, nine. He smiled to himself, of course, the Oasis of the Nine Stones
~ Ibn Sharjar: The Nine Stones of the Oasis of the Nine Stones



S’Jath nodded “How can I be of assistance?”

“Could do with hand to locate and tighten the arm retaining bolts to the main body chassis sir. Once we swing it into place” O’Halloran called out. “The wrenches are on the bench, Cardassian hex-nuts, size -“

“- Fourteen point three I believe” S’Jath interrupted him and withdrew an adjustable torque wrench from his tool belt. “I came prepared”

HaiRoa hid a smile, the Vulcan Engineer was not going to miss out on the chance to help put this thing back together. He left them to it.

~Proud Mary: Rolling, HaiRoa


 

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