Topic: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...  (Read 15816 times)

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Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #20 on: February 27, 2008, 08:50:24 am »
Quote
wonders how some discussions come about...

*cough*Andy*cough*

Not guilty this time, mate! I was just wondering about the "Buzzard ship & troll". I readily admit I got it wrong, but it was YOU! - yes you sir, don't look at the woman behind you... no, nor the boy to your left - YOU, Hsta, who first went on about canon.

I was just grumbling good-naturedly about being tricked by Guv's description, then set about tweaking your other heads.

THIS IS ON YOU!!!!  :D
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Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #21 on: February 27, 2008, 05:31:46 pm »
What trick? I described a Bird of Prey!  :angel:








CH. 4





The boat gouged a slight skid into the smoothness of the sand at the water’s edge. Noah Smith carefully maneuvered to disembark the canoe and stepped a few paces inland. There were a few trees here, the only the lieutenant had yet seen. Twenty or so blocked the officer’s view of what lay beyond.

Noah was sweaty for the first time since his last fever. He and the old guy had shared the load of paddling the way up here. The old man had taken the time away from paddling to drag his line from the back of the boat. His catch was flapping around at the side of the craft even now.

“Ya’ know, son.” The old man was saying with quiet gratitude. “I’m gonna have to make you paddle for me more often. Never caught so much as we did today, just draggin’ the line b’hind us.”

Noah glanced back. He was nervous as to what lay ahead of him. He focussed on breathing and tried to remember all his training. The Academy seemed so buried in the past, now.

“Your welcome, sir. Any idea where this troll of yours lives, exactly?”

“Inside the Buzzard so far as anybody knows. It’s said he comes out from there, kills folk then eats the corpses raw.”

Smith shuddered and looked down mournfully at his grass-reinforced, sock-clad feet. He shook his head and looked around for a suitable weapon. The trees were spindly and tall, offering no branches. The rocks here about were too large to wield.

“Know of any weapons to be had, old man?”

The old guy pushed off from the shore with a sorrowful grin. “They say there’s plenty…inside the Buzzard.”

And the old man paddled away. If Noah was successful, it was their agreement to meet again in the morning. If not…the old man would be paddling home alone again anyway.

Noah focussed on the task ahead and tried to maintain a hopeful outlook. He could take any one being in an out and out fight. Starfleet had trained him to fight and handle himself well. He’d even had opportunity to show such since being assigned aboard Endeavour.

The young officer pushed his way through wispy limbs and foliage and made his way up a none too gentle rise in the land. More trees abounded here. They grew thickly together. A branch slapped back suddenly…

Noah shouted involuntarily at the sight of the humanoid skull tied up to a tree trunk before him. His cry echoed out into the twilight, scared up a flight of small birds. Damn! The lieutenant stared hatefully at the stupid scare token. It had done its job well enough, and now the whole countryside knew he was here.

Smith hurried along, ducking low to avoid making a trail of motion through the foliage. It was good that he did.

The first disruptor bolt sizzled past over head and blew a tree in half behind the comm officer. This quickened the boy’s pace to a mad dash and drew even more fire. A hail of energy fire was burning down trees left and right.

Noah could feel the shots drawing closer and closer to home. His bare ankles took a pelting from burning splinters propelled by an exploding charge. Noah leapt for the first cover offered him.

A final shot sizzled by overhead as Smith rolled down a small gully inset into the hillock. It was rocky and lined with old bones from various species. Perhaps the troll really did eat folk! Noah fought the unsteady slope of the depression for stable purchase and grabbed up the only weapon to be had…a smooth stone.

“Are you dead yet, targ?” Came a gruff bellow from above and out of sight. Noah could hear cautious crunching on the stone lined ground above his vantage. There would be no way to climb out of here quickly…

Noah took a firm grip on his chosen missile.

The top of a knobby, tousle-haired head came bobbling slowly into view. Its owner was craning to look down into the gully Noah had jumped into.

“Decided to cut to it and dump yourself into my trash heap, eh?” There troll laughed in the manner of his race. Even without his language intact, there was no mistaking his kind. “That’s very considerate of you…but not very sanitary!”

When enough of the forehead showed itself, Noah hurled his weapon with all his might! The smooth white stone flashed out and hit the knobby cranium with a hollow ‘thock!’

The head’s owner fell back with a crash.

“OW!!”

Noah looked frantically about and grabbed up another two stones to throw. There was scrambling and cursing from above. Pebbles rained down the slope of the dry gully.

“You hit me with a ROCK!”

Noah waited as an eerie, angry silence issued from above. At last there came a guffawing laughter. “A ROCK!”

At last the Klingon showed himself fully at the pinnacle of the depression Smith had jumped inside. His grizzly, dirty face was broken open with a jagged, brown toothed smile of wide humor. He looked down at Noah, and his disruptor was down at his side.

“And a human, too!”

The Klingon hooked his massive hands on the remnants of his belt and leaned back guffawing. His laugh echoed out into the breeze. At last he looked down, eyes moist with mirth.

“Go ahead, human! Throw your rocks!”

Noah shrugged and reared back. The Klingon did nothing as the lieutenant took aim and pelted off both his weapons. The first hit it’s target between the legs. The warrior growled out between clenched teeth and bent low. The next rock struck him betwixt his eyes.

The Troll rolled senselessly into the heap with Lieutenant Smith.
***

---thu guv!!
'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline Hstaphath_XC

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #22 on: February 28, 2008, 01:35:09 am »
... YOU, Hsta, who first went on about canon.

You were rather obviously carrying on a discussion about what should or should not be canon for Klink hull colors... you can't turn it back around on me just for using the hated word that cast the discussion in the light it was already illuminated in.  Well... okay... yes, you can TRY.   ;)

What trick? I described a Bird of Prey!

And very clearly at that!

“You hit me with a ROCK!”

Hehe... those darn surprisingly sneaky humans...  :D
Hilaritas sapientiae et bonae vitae proles.

Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #23 on: February 28, 2008, 09:08:27 am »
Quote
The young officer pushed his way through wispy limbs and foliage...
You are getting quite poetic and lyrical in your descriptions, Guv. You're better at it that I am!

Quote
The head’s owner fell back with a crash.

“OW!!”

...

“You hit me with a ROCK!”
That's a friggin' riot, that is! As is the Klink laughing at it and getting clunked out  by Noah at the end. Why he offered the shots is still a mystery to me though. But that was a great scene with good humour. Looking forward to more!

Hsta: Was not! Nyah!  :D  But seriously, I was just covering for my inability to spot a K-BoP (they have cloaking devices, after all. This cloak was just... a bad description  ;D). I was not inviting a discussion on canon. So, in the time honoured tradition of 5 year-olds, YOU started it! Nyah again!
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Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #24 on: February 28, 2008, 03:48:46 pm »
Don't make me pull this forum page over and come back there!

--mutha guv
'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #25 on: March 17, 2008, 07:30:01 pm »
CH. 5





Lieutenant Smith looked down at the bound form of the ‘Troll’ he’d captured. The Klingon rested soundly and the human was reassured that his friend would not reawaken soon by the grace of the two full power stun blasts he’d put into the warrior’s chest.

Now that the evil guardian was taken care of and bound with leather chord from his own equipment belt, the Starfleet officer felt more secure about finding this Buzzard. Smith was relatively certain what he was going to find.

The officer pushed his way through the thick foliage and out into a clearing of loose dirt and shrubs. Large rocks lined the perimeter of the round clearing and above it all loomed the massive command head of a Klingon Bird of Prey.

The scoutship sat atop a short outcropping of rock that stood before the third mountain used by the old man to tell distance. The ship was weather beaten and aged by the diffuse sun, rusted by the planet’s rains. Its landing pads indeed jutted out and plowed into the soft sand, and between them hung its landing ramp.

The ramp had been prized open.

Noah closed in on the monolithic craft and listened to the moan of the wind as it whipped beneath the ship. Old, beaten tools lay scattered about the area near to the ramp’s foot. An equipment pod had been accessed next to the open access way, explaining how the alien had gotten the ramp open.

With his borrowed weapon in hand, Noah summoned up the bravery to step up inside the unlit vessel.

Klingons, it was said, did not prefer much in the way of illumination. None abounded for as far as Smith could make out. The officer felt about for a switch, a toggle or button. What he found was a beaten lamp hanging on a bent mounting. Taking this, Noah lit his way and began his journey inside.

The entry port was devoid of any sign other than dirt and age. The airlock entrance had been left permanently open. Smith did not make it much further than this before halting with a start.

Another Klingon stood staring him in the face.

Noah backed off immediately, raising his weapon in almost belated attempt to defend himself. There was no need. The alien warrior stood stock still, unmoving as death.

A statue.

Noah stepped close once again and more closely examined the Klingon who stood ever on guard at the hatch. He bore the rank of Sergeant and had the markings of an engineering mate. Aboard a ship this size, he was likely the chief engineer’s assistant. He had no sign of injury and did not smell any…less fresh than his kinsman outside.
If anything, that which stood before Smith now smelled better than the dirty oaf outside. His eyes twinkled with reflected light, moist and lifelike. But the pupils gave no reaction to movement or light. The warriors skin was smooth and warm. Alive. But there was no pulse, no breath.

Noah tried even to knock the towering Klingon over. It took some effort, but the giant toppled and clamored to the expanded metal decking like a mannequin. After knocking the man down, the comm officer felt a twinge of regret. Nothing could be done however. The Klingon weighed too much to lift back onto his feet.
Noah shrugged, vowing not to knock over any more of this vessel’s crew and made his way deeper into the ship. The remainder of the lower deck was empty.
The main deck showed more of the crew in their suspended state. They were arranged about consoles and sitting in chairs as though they had been on duty and unawares when they’d been taken. Noah figured they very well had been. These Klingons had been out surveying or conducting recon when some power over took them. Brought them here to be odd trophies.

What Smith needed was a scanner.

The human officer began to poke through equipment harnesses and lockers, drawers and even through the belts of the men and women he found in the dark twist of compartments. There was some sign of life within. Evidence that the Troll had been aboard, tossed things where he may. Old bones lay amid the debris on the floor. Tools lay about and open access panels hung open as though the Klingon had striven to get this ship back to operational. Apparently, he’d had no success.
Smith found what he needed at last in the bridge. Here he also found working lighting and a few online panels. The lieutenant could read a smattering of Klingon and most of their operational glyphs. This ship was essentially on standby mode. Her main core read as almost inert, the antimatter degraded to a low level. One fusion core remained running, and it was running in short cycles to keep the battery array powered.

Most every piece of equipment showed a default malfunction icon above its display readings. The human had very little information as to what this could mean.
The scanner Smith found was similar in function to a Starfleet tricorder. Its system was much simpler, the design more robust. It showed a full power cell. A default malfunction sign blinked atop its main screen.

“Now, what the hell!”

“You knocked Korved over…”

Smith whirled, albeit too late, to aim his pistol at the Troll as he emerged from the bridge’s aft hatch. The Klingon had a swollen left eye and another disruptor. He grinned, looking more subdued than earlier as he aimed back at Noah.

“What!”

“You knocked over our engineer’s mate!” The Troll said again. “Korved hated to be pushed.”

“Who are you!”

The Klingon looked from the boy’s eyes to the scanner held in his hands, then to the pistol. He lowered his own and blinked sleepily. Apparently his urge to kill Smith had been spent. One might have thought waking up to find you’d been tied up and left face down in the dirt might have made such an urge all the harder to resist… “I was known as Hathek. I was the senior electronics technician and second shift helmsman of the great Klodarn!”

Noah blinked, lowering his weapon. Hathek lowered his pistol more as well. “Lieutenant Noah Smith, Communications. USS Endeavour.”

“Endeavour? Sharp’s ship?”

“No…Commodore Ford’s... Why the hell does every Klingon ask that?!”

“Hmm…” The Klingon stashed his gun into a holster and rounded the aft stations to look at the dead viewing screen. “You are an officer. You came here the same way I did?”

“You mean falling asleep onboard and waking up in a pile of dead bodies…yeah.”

“I was not asleep…but I did emerge in a pile of the dead.” The warrior reminisced. He crossed thick arms over the tattered armor on his chest. “I have lived here for far too long. I think it took me four years to find my ship… And when I did, seven more passed. My comrades do not age a day. They merely stand there… waiting for me to discover a way to make them awaken.”

Noah studied the Klingon, then looked down at the scanner in his hands. “What’s with all of your equipment. Everything flashes the same malfunction signal.”

“I do not know for sure.” Hathek told him. “I have had theories over the years. The electronics are undamaged, though. Simply nothing does its function. The helm will lay in a course, but will not fire the thrusters. The drive will generate power, but the antimatter baffles won’t open…”

Noah saw the Klingon grinning.

“I tried to blow the ship up a few times. Never worked.”

Smith motioned to all the consoles.

“All the stations function?”

“Mostly. But the scanners won’t scan. The comm system doesn’t receive or transmit. The main guns won’t fire. They are…prevented.”

“Prevented?”

Hathek continued to smile in a way that gave way to the paranoia residing within his mind. “Sometimes I see the malfunction lights falter…cut out. But they always light back up when I rush for the consoles! There is a being out there…toying with me!”

“The Caretaker?”

“You know of him!”

Hathek approached Smith so swiftly the officer raised his disruptor again. Hathek glowered down at it and pushed it aside. He grabbed Smith up by the dirt-streaked front of his white shirt.

“What do you know of our captor!”

Smith considered shooting the Klingon. But he was just being his natural, forceful way. He left the sidearm dangling as he stared back with even defiance. “Almost nothing. Just some legend some of the locals have told me.”

“Locals…?”

“The guys that say you’re a cannibal…come down from your ship, shoot, kill and eat folks…”

Hathek smiled and released Smith. He twirled about to crash down at the empty helm station. “You have spoken with the denizens of this world… I have not for many years…”

“So I’m informed.”

“And what do these locals tell you?”

“They say that when a ship passes by that this so-called Caretaker likes, he snatches it down. He keeps the ship and the crew in good shape. The sick aboard he tosses into a death cave to live or die. He doesn’t mess with them after that.”

Hathek shrugged. He turned his chair away from the human and sniffed. “I was not ill.”

Noah’s first impulse was to argue the matter. It would avail him nothing in this case. “Not for me to say. But your crew hasn’t seemed to have suffered any ill effect from their suspended animation.”

The Klingon looked back thoughtfully.

“No. They are as they were when I found them. Much as I remembered them before being cast out onto the world.”

Noah regarded the scanner in his hand.

“And these systems don’t work?”

“No.”

“But hand particle weapons do?”

Hathek grunted and drew his pistol. He aimed it for one of the officers standing silent vigil before his console. “Unless you do this…”

Hathek jammed his thumb down on the trigger. Nothing occurred. No beam, no plaintive squall of disobedience. The officer went right on standing there. Alive but not.
Hathek went on to prove his point and test fired at various points of the compartment. The weapon never once tried to fire. “Your Caretaker does not want his prizes damaged.”

“Huh…” Smith came around to sit beside the Klingon at the unoccupied navigation console. “But he doesn’t care if we shoot and kill each other outside…”

“Apparently. How else could I have eaten all those people?”

Noah gaped a bit as he looked back to the soldier. Hathek leered playfully and looked away. Smith stood back up and stepped safely away. “This guy’s influence seems aimed at his collections. The ships and the crew’s he kept. Have you tried the scanners outside this ship?”

“Yes. Same effect. Nothing.”

Noah shut the scanner down and slung its strap over his shoulder. “Then we’ve got to figure out where this person’s control comes from. We have to find him or his base of operations…”

Hathek chortled laughter.

“For all we know, he lives in orbit.”

“Then how is it people know of him down here?”

The Klingon noncom did not seem convinced, but was no longer looking away. “And what makes you believe they know what they’re talking about?”

“I don’t know…but then…if we do nothing, we’ll never know anything.”
***
'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline Hstaphath_XC

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #26 on: March 19, 2008, 12:12:06 pm »
Excellent!  I am surprised the Caretaker allowed so much damage to the hatch, but it appears it likes to have it's little jokes with the Cave of Bones survivors as well.   ;)
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Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #27 on: March 19, 2008, 09:03:31 pm »
Try not to get overly attached to the details...this is a crazy story, not a tech-minded one.

I'm really gonna have to turn it upside down. Not being messed up in the head is really hindering my ability to progress this one...

--guv
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'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline Hstaphath_XC

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #28 on: March 23, 2008, 10:41:30 pm »
... Not being messed up in the head is really hindering my ability to progress this one...

Hmmm... just to clear things up... are you claiming that you are currently not messed up in the head at all or that, relatively speaking, you aren't as messed up in the head as you were?   ;)
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Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #29 on: March 24, 2008, 12:30:08 am »
... Not being messed up in the head is really hindering my ability to progress this one...

Hmmm... just to clear things up... are you claiming that you are currently not messed up in the head at all or that, relatively speaking, you aren't as messed up in the head as you were?   ;)

Yes.

--guv?!!??~%$&***
'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline Commander La'ra

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #30 on: March 24, 2008, 01:33:28 am »
Hmmm... just to clear things up... are you claiming that you are currently not messed up in the head at all or that, relatively speaking, you aren't as messed up in the head as you were?   ;)

You're dealing with a man who's noble knight, on a long ago game of D&D reacted to this line:

"They took the Princess and escaped toward the east!"

With this one...

"Then I shall go west!  To head them off."
"Dialogue from a play, Hamlet to Horatio: 'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' Dialogue from a play written long before men took to the sky. There are more things in heaven and earth, and in the sky, than perhaps can be dreamt of. And somewhere in between heaven, the sky, the earth, lies the Twilight Zone."
                                                                 ---------Rod Serling, The Last Flight

Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #31 on: March 24, 2008, 08:04:22 pm »
Larry....I could have non-gay sex with you right now...you just saved this story from the trash-heap!

--thu guv! [but not in a gay way...]
'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline Commander La'ra

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #32 on: March 25, 2008, 01:33:18 am »
Glad to be of service, in a very non-gay, manly way. :laugh:
"Dialogue from a play, Hamlet to Horatio: 'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' Dialogue from a play written long before men took to the sky. There are more things in heaven and earth, and in the sky, than perhaps can be dreamt of. And somewhere in between heaven, the sky, the earth, lies the Twilight Zone."
                                                                 ---------Rod Serling, The Last Flight

Offline Czar Mohab

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #33 on: March 31, 2008, 11:09:33 pm »
One read, about 6 to go...

Jeez, I've fallen behind.

This is one of those mystery tours through the Guv's secret brain parts, methinks. I doubt that pneumonia or drugs were ever that involved, but more of a catalyst to get it going.

Not really sure how anyone could have missed the Buzzard, the description was well enough; but I can see the resemblance to something not Klingon in a very canon-esque way.

Czar "More" Mohab

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Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #34 on: April 15, 2008, 04:10:13 pm »
Liking this. Interesting development for sure: the UnLiving-NotDead. I'd say you need drugs though, to get back in the proper "frame of mind". LDS'll do it.  :D

Very Lewis Carroll. Give us more!
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Offline Commander La'ra

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #35 on: April 15, 2008, 05:11:03 pm »
LDS'll do it.

According to the Guv, I already did.*nods*
"Dialogue from a play, Hamlet to Horatio: 'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' Dialogue from a play written long before men took to the sky. There are more things in heaven and earth, and in the sky, than perhaps can be dreamt of. And somewhere in between heaven, the sky, the earth, lies the Twilight Zone."
                                                                 ---------Rod Serling, The Last Flight

Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #36 on: April 15, 2008, 07:23:02 pm »
For the last month, I have been unable to write a single word on this one.

--guv
'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline Commander La'ra

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #37 on: April 16, 2008, 03:08:17 am »
Would more Sir Callamar quotes help? ;D
"Dialogue from a play, Hamlet to Horatio: 'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' Dialogue from a play written long before men took to the sky. There are more things in heaven and earth, and in the sky, than perhaps can be dreamt of. And somewhere in between heaven, the sky, the earth, lies the Twilight Zone."
                                                                 ---------Rod Serling, The Last Flight

Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #38 on: April 16, 2008, 01:42:29 pm »
No...tink I require an altered state of mind for this one...

Maybe soon...

--guv
'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline Hstaphath_XC

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #39 on: December 09, 2008, 02:39:27 pm »
No...tink I require an altered state of mind for this one... Maybe soon...

Isn't it the cold and flu season right now?   ;)
Hilaritas sapientiae et bonae vitae proles.