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Most users ever online was 29 on October 1st 2013, 12:09 am


    Overfield.

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    Bad John
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    Overfield.

    Post  Bad John on May 15th 2013, 7:11 pm

    USS Rockerbye Personal Log

    Security Officer Badeford D. John

    Log # 45

    Stardate 90975.3

    Not a very eventful day. The rigging keeping the Engine together had a busted teather. We fixed it in twenty minutes. No big deal.

    The management finally approved my Radio Broadcasts. It's a lot better than going behind their backs to pirate it. Looks like our trade route is still going to get some QUALITY programming. That crap playing on the intercom is just...grating. I even had Strunk and Barry come on as guest commentators.

    Strunk's lady has him whipped. He changed his shift time just to eat lunch with her.

    For most of the day, I've just been in my station cleaning my gun. I haven't gotten a chance to test fire it in WEEKS. If there wasn't a charger in the holster, I'd assume the damn thing was BROKEN.

    There are a lot of people on the Rockerbye I haven't even MET. I hate how huge this ship is. It's good that I have my own room, and a small clique of people I get on with, but the fact that I know SIXTY people here, and that's only twelve percent. That's out of order. I need to start socializing immediately.

    Holy shit. They're playing a rerun of my show. ON THE INTERCOM.

    NOW! RIGHT NOW AS I WRITE THIS! I can hear my own stupid voice over the SHIP'S INTERCOM! This is GRAND.

    I thought Captain Murphy was an angry prude! For fifty days, I've tried to make that guy crack a smile. I heard him LAUGH during one of my jokes.

    This is the greatest honor I'll ever know.

    Permission to put a smiley face in a personal journal without feeling like a complete and total tosser?

    Granted.

    :]

    End of log.
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    Manny
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    Re: Overfield.

    Post  Manny on May 16th 2013, 11:31 pm

    If you've every played Fallout 3 and been to Rivet City... that's the vibe I'm getting from this log.

    At least so far.

    Doctor Jensen
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    Re: Overfield.

    Post  Doctor Jensen on May 21st 2013, 5:12 pm

    USS Rockerbye Personal Log

    Security Officer Corporal Jacob L. Buchanan

    Log#67

    Stardate 90979.03

    Look, I don't wanna say today was bullshit... But today was absolute bullshit. The Captain gave me my uniform, standard security officer red, and showed me what my 'duties' would be. I'm no red shirt, that's for damn sure. I wasn't trained for that. He knows it, and I know it.

    Because of direct orders from the Starfleet, I haven't been able to use my weapon. How do they expect me to stay in tip-top shape if I'm not even aloud to TRAIN?! It's... man it's just a bunch of vulcan-shit.

    And to add on to that, they started broadcasting some talk show crap. It's absolutely grating; better than the old station, but still grating.

    I don't know how much more I can take of it. If I, the first man commissioned to be an actual soldier for the first time in--ages?--The Federation's history, have to sit around 'guarding' the Captain and listening to this BS, I'm absolutely going to kill someone.

    So yeah, I'm a little pissed, obviously.

    Alright, I'm out.
    -Buchanan
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    Bad John
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    Re: Overfield.

    Post  Bad John on May 21st 2013, 5:31 pm

    I like 'em.
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    Shad0wChas3r
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    Re: Overfield.

    Post  Shad0wChas3r on May 21st 2013, 6:18 pm

    And it becomes abundantly clear the universe from which this story derives. I wouldn't have been able to tell until Jensen brought up the Vulcans.

    Excellent work.


    _________________


    \\'Boyo\\'

    Thanks for Reading!


    Doctor Jensen
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    Re: Overfield.

    Post  Doctor Jensen on May 21st 2013, 8:15 pm

    Bad John wrote:I like 'em.
    The character?

    Thanks Morgan.
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    Bad John
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    Re: Overfield.

    Post  Bad John on May 21st 2013, 8:16 pm

    Yep. The character.
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    Bad John
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    Re: Overfield.

    Post  Bad John on May 22nd 2013, 9:25 pm

    "Alright."

    John floated through space, the teather lightly tugging on his waist as he latched his hands and feet onto the rungs of the service ladder. "I see the busted panel. I'm moving in to replace it."

    "Got it, John. Our parking brake is on. Don't worry about anything jerking." Barry's boisterous, boorish, yet friendly voice came through his helmet's communicator. He was always uncomfortable in vacuum suits, and the Rockerbye's vacuum suits were antiquated by five years now. He wanted to scratch, but being road hauled by a Federation Ship was an unpleasant experience, so he held on and moved along the ladder with both hands.

    "Watch out, by the way. There are a few rocks out there." Barry's warning was just in time, as a rock the size of a volleyball drifted by John's head. He let go of the ladder with one hand, palming the object out of the way with a grunt of effort.

    The solar panel, peeled back by debris, was just busy work, but Captain Murphy liked a spotless ship. This was just a variant of "swabbing the deck."

    Badeford D. John. SPACE JANITOOOOOR. It was honest work, and it kept him busy, but one aspect annoyed him. This WASN'T his shift.

    John reached back to his belt, drawing a blowtorch. The replacement panel was on his back. He cut away at the bolts holding the panel on, and turned towards it, putting both boots on the wide end of the panel. With a hard shove, he kicked the panel off, and it floated away.

    John drew his bolt gun, and laid the replacement over the exposed gap, discharging a few bolts into it.

    "Hey John. Strunk wants to thank you for covering his shift."

    "Tell Strunk to kiss my ass." John grinned, finishing the job.

    "Really?" Barry snorted with laughter.

    "...Actually, no. Tell him I wish nothing but the best for him and his lady friend."

    "That's nice of yo-"

    "ACTUALLY TELL HIM TO KISS MY ASS." John growled.

    John could hear Barry cracking up on his line.

    "Alright, Barry. I'm heading back." John held onto his teather, leaped backwards, and began tugging. He pulled himself back into the small service bay, and the door shut behind him.

    "John, hold on a sec. I think you're upside down in there."

    "What?"

    Gravity in the bay was restored, and John was invariably pulled down, landing on his head and shoulder with a loud thump. Air restored itself to the small bay.

    You may now remove your vacuum suit.

    "Terrific." John stood, and a sudden, sharp coldness struck him from behind as he removed his helmet. "FUCK ME WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!" John turned, and a mechanical arm, holding a hose, sprayed him with a thin, clear, bubbling liquid. "Barry, why the hell am I being SPRAYED?! I don't even understand that!" John wiped it off, as the mechanical arm, attached to a glowing eyeball unit, slotted away.

    I hate robots. John swatted the liquid away. It chilled him to the bone wherever it touched.

    Barry, speaking through the bay's intercom, responded, holding back laughter. "New protocol. The automated systems spray you for contaminants."

    "The hell kind of contaminant lives in SPACE?" John stepped through the bay doors.

    To his surprise, and immediate rage, another jet of clear, painfully chilly coolant sprayed him.

    "HEY STOP! STOP IT!" The robot spraying him, a rolling droid with another stupid, uncaring eye, stared at him. "They JUST sprayed me in the last one!!!"

    "No contaminants." The robot responded.

    "Dude, they JUST sprayed me before I came through this door."

    "Dude does not compute." The robot turned, slotting away its hose.

    "FUUUUCK you, you don't know what dude means." John walked past the droid, stripping off his vacuum suit. "Stupid robot. I bet you know what 'fuck you' means."

    As a matter of fact, by some programming oddity, the robot DID know what it meant. The droid sprayed him once more, this time touching his bare skin.

    John's scream could be heard halfway through the ship.

    Part one of my post. Gonna finish it later.

    Doctor Jensen
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    Re: Overfield.

    Post  Doctor Jensen on May 23rd 2013, 1:42 pm

    Good stuff. I'll let ya finish before I go on.
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    Manny
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    Re: Overfield.

    Post  Manny on May 25th 2013, 2:12 am

    Star Trek huh?

    Don't know much about it. I'll have to ask my dad, he's a pretty big fan.
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    Bad John
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    Re: Overfield.

    Post  Bad John on May 25th 2013, 11:15 am

    "Hey, man. I can't thank you enough for covering for me today."

    John turned wistfully to Strunk, but decided to lighten up. He seemed to be in a good mood, and John hated to be a buzzkill.

    Not quite as much as he hated being sprayed by droids for "contaminants," but close enough.

    John adjusted his service jacket. A new uniform, it was wonderfully comfortable. Grey, with accents of red where the collar would be. He wore his unzipped, with a black tee shirt underneath. His ability to follow the dress code was roughly similar to his ability to do math.

    "So. How are things with the lady, man?" John patted him on the shoulder, and Strunk beamed.

    "Things're GREAT. I think she might be the one, man." Strunk folded his arms, contemplating. "It's been long enough, right? When our tour is over, we're going somewhere in Europe. Outside of London."

    "Dude, that's awesome!" John grinned, patting him on the shoulder. "If I'm not your best man, I'll gut-shoot you."

    The cafeteria doors opened to the hearty laughter of the new shift of Security Personnel. They were new. Different training. They were meant solely to be security, as opposed to technical crew.

    "Check it out. It's the fresh meat." John smiled. "Want to say hello?"

    Strunk eyed them up. They chattered amongst themselves quietly, with occasional bursts of laughter. Strunk got a hard look on his face. "Naaaah. I really don't trust those guys. Weird."

    John shrugged. "Suit yourself." John and Strunk moved to the lunch line. Not hungry, the former poured himself some water, while Strunk took a pair of nutrient bars.

    "Here. Eat up." Strunk tossed John one, and he caught it.

    The two sat and ate without incident, until Barry walked in.

    "YO, guys." Barry strode in, a large grin on his face, as per the norm. Before Barry reached them, he crossed the small crowd of new security staff.

    In an immature deed, one stuck his foot out, tripping the gentlemen as he passed. Barry fell forward, clipping his head on the side of the table in front of him. Clutching his head, Barry stood, hurt and embarrassed.

    "The FUCK?!" Strunk stood, as John rushed to tend to Barry.

    "You alright, man?" John wiped blood off of his face, and turned to the offender in rage. "The hell is the matter with you? That was out of order!"

    Strunk and John helped Barry to as feet, as the man who tripped Barry stood.

    John immediately sized him up.

    John wasn't tall, but he was lean, and he'd fish fought bigger men with this. In that instant, he rose to the challenge.

    "Get Barry to the med bay. Have him looked at." John nodded his head.

    Strunk, physically more powerful than John, stood his ground. "Hold on, now. If there's a rumble, I'ma particip-"

    "And piss off your fiancee?" John smiled. "OUT. I got it. We're just gonna exchange humors."

    Strunk escorted Barry out hesitantly, as John stood his ground.

    There were four, but John only expected to deal with the one.

    "Got something to say, darkie?" The man stood sideways to John, looking back at his colleagues for approval. "We're just havin' a laugh."

    "Like a bunch of middle-schoolers. Here's a laugh for you."

    John took his cup of water, and tossed it in the man's face. His eyes were open, leaving him momentarily blinded.

    John leaned forward, headbutting the man square in the face.

    His second blow backed the man into his friends. They all moved out of the way. In tardy defense, the gentleman raised his arms, trying to block. John punched him in the stomach three times, backing him up. He was in a decent rhythm, bypassing his guard and landing heavy blows to his stomach.

    He threw a heavy punch. John ducked. Another was simply avoided by leaning to the side. John exploited a third punch, landing a painful cross counter to his opponent's jaw. His right hand drummed off of the man's cheek, leaving an indent of his knuckles.

    John cocked his leg and swung his knee. The blow threw the man backwards and onto the floor. He clutched his body, finished.

    "THE WINNER." John grinned. "Anybody els-"

    With a single punch, the largest man knocked John on the side of the head. The blow stung, but he stumbled without falling.

    Ah shit. The fight was three on one now, the man's offended friends joining in.

    John backed up, rubbing the side of his head. He took off his grey and red service jacket. "C'MON. I can do this all day!"

    The burly, heavy armed man stepped forward to throw another punch. John sidestepped it, swinging his foot in a crescent sweep. The man fell flat, and John stepped over him, throwing a punch into the chest of the second man. With two hits, he stumbled back.

    This was the easy part of fighting multiple men on your own. None of them want to get hit. A few blows, and they back off.

    The third kicked John in the gut, moving in close. John cocked his arm to throw a punch, but his hand was seized, pinned behind his back.

    John felt a chair strike him in the stomach.

    A fist came down on the top of his head.

    This was the hard part of fighting multiple men. It's noble, but not a good idea.

    John pulled his arm free, and landed an uppercut on the man in front of him. He swung his elbow, striking the man holding his arm.

    "That all you got?!" John fought back hard, but they were on all sides now. His feet were tripped by a man beside him, and he fell to his knees.

    A torrent of blows knocked him face flat. He could feel boots instead of fists now.

    It was pretty much over for him. "STOMP THE LITTLE SHIT!"

    John faintly heard the door open behind him.


    The food might be decent around here.

    Jacob opened the door to the cafeteria, and was stricken with the sight of several security personnel stomping on a young black man.

    He cracked his knuckles, targeting each of the four officers with his eyes, calculating how he could drop each one.

    ...Alright then. That's something to do.

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      Current date/time is November 18th 2017, 8:17 pm