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Selected Quotes Sept '23

Posted on 03 Oct 2023 @ 6:11pm by Commander Calliope Zahn
Edited on 03 Oct 2023 @ 6:15pm


Ride-Along: The Rabbit Warren

“I’ve got an assessment for it,” Roth muttered. “Hinky, is what it is.”

“It’s not locked. To me that looks like an open invitation from somebody who thinks they’re on the high ground,” Stillwell summarized.

“A sound assessment,” Sikan agreed.

“And we’re just gonna go ahead and walk through the unlocked door that they’re inviting us through, then,” Roth replied.

“Also a sound assessment,” Sikan agreed. He pressed the button for the door and the hatch slid open. It was a heavy door, designed to secure the sole ingress and egress out of the base. And, yet, as Stillwell noted, it was unlocked and open.

“You shot me!” he said, tossing her phaser aside as he wrestled the cuffs onto her.

“You broke my arm!”

Tomorrow and the Next Day and the Next

“There was no future on Korix, beyond the next day. Now we have a future. I don’t know what tomorrow or the next day might bring. The only thing I’m sure of is tomorrow there’s you and the next day there’s you. And the day after that.”

The Runaway: Catching a Ride

She attached herself to a particularly rowdy group and stayed in the back, hidden behind several tall boys who were not paying attention to the tour, but rather goofing around pinching each other’s arms and butts, laughing as if great fun. Despite not knowing them personally, she knew boys. Fernanda couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

About thirty minutes after Sanchez left, Dominic LaSalle waddled through the door and up to Mac. He was a large man, standing nearly a foot taller than Mac. Years ago, Dominic had been a Greco-Roman wrestler of some prestige, women flocked to him and men wanted to be him (at least, that’s how he remembered it). Now his brown shirt emblazoned with the logo of the spaceport was struggling to contain the Export Operations Manager’s wide, globe-like belly.

Take and Eat

The old man looked pleased, grinning under his white mustache. “These days I leave the hunting and education to the next generation. But I still cook. I have a restaurant chain. My Dynasty is everywhere in the Klingon Empire. And now we have opened this location in the Federation! We will conquer many palates, and subdue much hunger.” KevaQ punctuated this claim by setting a steaming bowl he had on hand before the weepy woman.

Sleep Deprived

Ensign Wiser straightened the hem of his jacket as if it could do anything for his dignity as he followed Melanthio, aware of the flanking security officers, but not looking directly at either. Saaba’s words to him earlier to calm down before she had to put him in an armlock and make him chill were no longer informal admonishments from a friend. And heaven help him when Max found out about this.

Excuse The Mess

This really was the last place she wanted to be; she'd had it in mind to go and look for Bruce. To corner him properly and have a chat, but as much as that sounded like a good idea when she played it out in her head she knew that the reality of that conversation probably wouldn't go where she wanted. He'd made his choice years ago, and she'd made hers. Maybe it could have been different. But 'what if's' only served to drive one mad. She couldn't deny that she still cared for him, even after these long years, but that was why she'd left. Why she'd come here to the Casablanca. Now, at the thought of seeing her nothing more than a static weapons platform that would be the first to be obliterated in a fight filled her with a sense of sadness far in excess of what she should have. It would not just be the loss of a ship, but a home she'd found sanctuary in when her previous one could no longer be.

Arrival Time

Admiral Harshman was outright mean to him, deriding him in front of everyone— his crew, the guests. Seth supposed it could be chalked up to being born with a name like Harshman unless she’d married into it? But then it was even more difficult to imagine her in a marriage.

A man could miss his future entirely if he got caught up on over thinking it, anyway. Simply bring your best to the moment and the future would see to itself.

The Past is in the Aft Torpedo Sights

You know: ‘He’s just like that,’ ‘he doesn’t mean it the way it seems,’ ‘brilliant people, they have their own internal pain and melancholy, and they need more understanding.’ That sort of thing.”

KevaQ dragged a stool noisily across the deck and sat his creaking bones down, complying and filling a third glass with a satisfied sigh. “It has been a busy day,” he admitted. “Like the advance on Voh'Ragnar Seven, when the chronometers all froze and it was a fortnight before they realized they were fighting inside of a timeloop…”

Corvus raised her glass, “My Klingon’s pretty rusty, but I believe the proverb is: Stop talking! Drink!” she declared firmly, in her best imitation Klingon.

KevaQ raised his glass and drank to that.

Unwitnessed, Unratified: A Good Day, A Bad Day

“Good morning, Señiorita – ”

“Señiorita now is it? I’m old enough to be your beautiful and wiser older sister,” Rafaella snickered, while tucking a long strand dark hair behind her left ear.

“No! Surely, you’re only twenty-two…”

“Flattery! Don’t they teach diplomats other tricks? What can I get you?”

“Uh, let’s see. Do you remember the usual?”

“You use to ask for a Peruvian dark roast and a date. Do you want to change your order?”

Rice nodded seriously. “Now that you mention it. Let’s forgo the coffee and just go on a date.”

She laughed. “Peruvian roast it is.” Rafaella floated over to a coffee machine, pulled out the pot, and poured its nearly black contents into a small thick porcelain cup.

“There you go. And,” she added slyly, “I get off at 3.”

“No go. This species’ clean energy is highly advanced, but everything else,” Rice shrugged, “Warp one. Late-twentieth to mid-twenty-first century technology. They’re still using electric vehicles with, uh…” He made a motion with his hands, pumping his fists up and down.

“What? Are you milking a cow?”

“No. No. Uh. What’s that called? Wheel! Steering wheel! They still manually steer vehicles. On the ground.”

He did. His pace quickening until he was nearly at a jog, slowing only when any way forward vanished in the crush of people leaving the Exterior. He didn’t know what he was running toward, but the need overtook him like the need to breath, to sleep, to eat. He had to run as if he could out run the truth.

The Path to Great Profits

“A male, who is in his mid-thirties and is not married, is a boy.” Ara correctly harshly. “I don’t care how many affairs that man has. Life is made of profits and responsibilities. Brek, at the moment, has neither. And I have to live with this disgrace.

Special Order

Brek had taken Xeri's details, and with no prospect of earning good latinum with this project, his mood wasn’t as its best. Sure, this art installation would be good for his reputation. Might even bring more work - hopefully of the paying variety. But how long would this shine last? In the end, all that would remain was John A. Wallace and the survivors of the Sunrise. But then the Betazoid woman continued to talk and Brek felt better. “I do sell art supplies!” He said with great enthusiasm. “He went through various pages on his PaDD, until he found a list of those supplies he had in store at the moment. Once more he presented the PaDD to Xeri.

Wonders of Modern Engineering

Rice chuckled. Everyone turned to look at him. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to mock, but I started going through how Romulans express their deepest thanks, which would translate in our language to something like ‘Your knife remains sheathed when I turned my back to you,’ Cardassian’s would say, ‘Your neck is of a generous proportions.’ And I then I tried to imagine what your saying would translate to, and what immediately popped into my head was, ‘Thanks for all the fish!’ Which is a line from a very old book on Earth, that posits what dolphins would tell humanity if they ever left…You know what, nevermind. My apologies.”

Not This Time

“Yeah. He said you came back bitter. Something hadn’t gone right. You used to build consensus, but after you got back you just started going for the throat more. What did he say? Er… ‘you were more apt to move to eliminate opponents who stood in the way of progress.’”

“Jesus. Makes me sound like an assassin.”

Rice felt like he was going to throw up, but an instant later, a coldness started to course through his body like a river moving from his head to his toes. Not this time. Desmona’s sparkling voice, the one that made birds sound off key, echoed in his mind. Not this time.

An Introduction on Choppy Waters

Ernesh took the smaller hand, enveloped in the massive, leathery palm. “It would be inauthentic of me to claim originality over that which I have also gathered from the minds of the ages across the stellar fields. The poor beg, the common borrow, but the greatest among us make away like bandits in the night.”

“I’ve never breathed these waters, Ambassador. Everyday we see theory and dreams become reality. So, I ask if you were us, captive on your own world, watching it die from the occupiers, what would you want?” Uanika replied.

A Question of Belonging

“It is Oh six hundred, Federation space standard time. Thank you for choosing Galaxy’s Best, when your warp nacelles need a rest.”

She rubbed the sleep sand out of the corner of her eyes with the back of her hands and slid out of a fresh down comforter, her memory sinking back as she looked down. She was still wearing her evening dress. Good grief. What a night. Her sinuses felt as dry as an Obsidian plain…

In one sudden motion, Calliope pulled the comforter straight over the bed, folding the top and tucking it down the side, as if she could make this whole mess neat and tidy. “I think I’ve had enough for now,” she told Rhian. “Let’s finish it this evening after shift.”

Inconvenient Truths

The communication ended soon after, preceded by the obligatory assurances that mother and daughter were in perfect health. Now that the setting around T’Sheng had reverted to the unremarkable décor of her Starfleet quarters, she felt much better. There had been, in the conservatory, one last question, unspoken by T’Evara, but very much present in her eyes. Can you remain a good person when your duty is so vastly important, or do you lose yourself in your tasks?

Does anyone even have an answer to that?

Meet the New Boss

"Have you determined the cause of the EM pulse attributed to the Pathfinder's sensor malfunction?"

"No, ma'am." Simple answers seemed best, even if they weren't exactly flattering. Saaba didn't like lying by omission, all the same, and she felt sure she couldn't reserve her own displeasure in appearing incompetent. "I did not."

"Why not?" Limmi would've had reservations about chalking it up to incompetence even if she weren't able to perceive some of the machinations behind Saaba's words. It just wasn't a credible progression for someone who'd otherwise been so painstaking. Not to mention that it was strange for an EM pulse to be so specific in its effect.

"Because...." Here she seemed to be searching until she mentally found a piece of solid reasoning to ground on again. "Because I was not at the primary tactical station when it occurred. Lt. Tahriik, from the Theseus assumed my station after we recovered his shuttle following the ground encounter. There wasn't very much I could ascertain after the fact as the records were non-existent."

"Understood. Still, I'm curious as to why you didn't think it warranted greater emphasis in your report?" Even if there was no ostensible cause at the incidence, it was sufficiently unusual to warrant follow-up.

"I guess, it just felt like there was nothing concrete enough to emphasize, ma'am." Saaba shrugged helplessly.

Wish upon a star

While safety was never in doubt, there was something about the beauty of a meteor shower coupled with the raw destructive power it brought with it. The beauty and the danger, the good and the bad, the left and the right in perfect, equal balance. As much as Jai sought such balance in his life dedicated to Starfleet and the aid of others he knew such balance could only be maintained if he also tended to himself too, balance....equality.

Breakfast at the Supper Club (pt 1)

A young, dark-haired boy came up to the buffett as he was freaking out quietly and he moved quietly aside to let him serve up a plate which he quickly filled to the top. Well beyond what was reasonable. Normally, he’d have said something about leaving plenty for everyone. But, shaking his head, he just offered another pair of biscuits off the tray. “Memaw’s recipe. You can’t beat it,” he said without his trademark zeal.

The young man just nodded and left with his plate. Delmer quickly rearranged the biscuits so they didnt’ get burned by the heat lamp and turned back as he heard someone take a plate and looked back to see the same young man.

“Gawl-lee, did you inhale it?” he asked in disbelief.

“What?” the boy asked.

“You just…” Delmer said, pointing the way the boy had just gone and then seeing him at a table tucking into the massive plate. “... right,” Delmer cottoned on, turning back to the other boy, the twin of the former, looking at him as if he might be ill. “Try the biscuits… memaw’s recipe…,” he suggested.

“I’m Roham, by the way,” he said by way of introduction, “My brothers Arash and Jamshid,” he said, indicating the twins next to him already tucked into their plates ravenously. They looked up just long enough to wave politely.

Olivia kept looking between them, like they were a malfunctioning reflection. “Why did you get two of the same one?”

Roham snorted into his coffee while the twins looked up confused, first at her, and then at each other. As if they both needed the other to confirm what she’d just said.

Breakfast at the Supper Club (pt 2)

For a moment Ibis caught Wallace’s eyes from the side, her look as if to say, ‘See? It was as simple as that, just to say what you wanted and call it done.’ But now her successful request would translate to many hours in the lab. She would be working again.

“There aren’t many of them. The Pyrryx, I mean. The monkey things, I’d never seen those before, but the armored folks I would bet you’re not dealing with big numbers of those people. Other than the governor, I never saw any others. The way the Irix talked about it, they were invaded one day, smashed to bits within days. All their major cities - or whatever they have that pass for cities - abandoned. Subjugated within a month digging out that mine, in hiding, or one of the Z’ala. If I were a betting man, I’d say the Pyrryx have mastered shock and awe to build an empire.”


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