The Dreamer and the Dreams that Were : Part I

Dr. Fenna’s glare could have melted neutronium. Instead its target was one Lieutenant Commander Sri.

“Give me one reason I should help you after you reassigned the Aenar to your team.” Her voice betrayed a bitterness so jagged Sri didn’t need her empathy. Sri had accepted the doctor’s pent-up rage as normal --just in this case her rage wasn’t nearly as pent up.

The Borg In Fate Acellerated Terms

This a take on the Borg, using the Fate Accelerated Bronze Rule, also known as Fate Fractal. This is a work in progress, and meant to represent the Borg as an abstract threat for a scene.  This take does not detail each Drone or even the Queen, and may not be granular enough for some uses.

By The Numbers II: A Full Accounting

Even though most of the officers in the ready room were off their duty cycle, sleeping was not on their minds. Syvok, stood stonily at the head of the table. His gaze abruptly went between the assembled officers which as Sri knew, passed for agitation for a vulcan.  The darkness didn’t help the mood. The yellow alert combined with wan emergency lighting created heavy shadows that turned empty spaces into lightless voids such Syvok appeared sinister instead of efficient and the officers around the table appeared sullen, bleary and agitated instead of -- 

Sri decided that part was actually pretty accurate. The stress around the table radiated out spastically around her, and she focused tightly to hold it off.

A Perfect Join: Delta I

Lahn sat on the ledge overlooking a knife-cut ravine as a chilly morning zephyr nudged a dense shroud of lead-vermillion clouds – crowned marigold by the rising sun -- across the opposing summit. The evergreens on the top tore away at the bottom of the cloud leaving them draped in a milky veil. The silence was that of the woodlands -- not the ever present thrum of a starship that she had long gotten used to but the soft cacophony of a living world of which she was both alien and participant. The rock was damp from the morning fog that prickled against her face and hands and beaded against her uniform, but she sat anyway, content to feel any sensation through her skin when scant days before, there had been no sensation – only input.

A Perfect Join: Recovery Part III

Each day, Shamat wandered the caverns. In some ways, they were a pleasant break from the chaos of triage, hurts and wants in Paladin’s sickbay.  The dim luminescence was comfortable to his Reman eyes and the smooth pumice-like walls reminded him that he really should visit Trill some day.  His sojourns were enjoyable until he inevitably descended deeper into the caverns where the walls became cracked and pitted, the air stale, and the toes of his boots would eventually scrape metal as the walls and floor became a mosaic of stone along with sections of dank, oily machinery. The dim light acquired a nauseating waxy green hue.  He picked up his pace in these sections – the machinery, while inert, gave him a sense of forboding.  Eventually he would find the antechamber – pristine and primitive, yet ending in a pair of very modern durasteel doors. It was at these doors that he would  seat himself cross legged on the smoothest part of the floor and announce himself.

A Perfect Join: Recovery Part II

Lahn did her best to move quickly, but her leg would not comply. Her cautious jog turned into a rough shamble. Helm cajoled, urged, and issued dire warnings  at every twist in the corridor. Periodically, Lahn checked the pouch with the nanite purges.  She remembered the advice. Don’t use them unless you’re sure you’ve been stung and you’re in a safe place. Between the field inducers, the full body polarity wave, and the chemicals, the nanite purge will fuck you up bad.

“You are close” Helm rasped.