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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    Be-Q-nna [chaos week]
    #1
    Captain's Log, Stardate 47457.1;

    I can hear what you're thinking, you're thinking, "How is this guy the captain?" But have you seen me? I'm beautiful, of course I'm the captain. You think they're gonna make the captain some dull little bay? Come on, those guys are made for the red shirts 'cuz ain't nobody gon' remember them. Everybody remembers me. And not just cuz I'm in 85% of all the scenes.

    Anyway, as I was saying, Captain's Log; we were returning from some uber boring diplomatic mission with some really weird blue people - and let me tell you, they were weird. Like honestly, they had those little skin loops in front of their mouths? Just be glad you didn't have to watch them eat like I did. Gross. But we did it because it's our job and we are professionals. So we were leaving, right? And out of freaking nowhere the whole damn planet explodes! Just... BOOSH! And gone. Coolest goddamn thing I seen in my whole life, but it really messed up my ride. Our shields ain't bad but you know, a whole planet goes up right behind you and the next thing you know half the crew's done dead and you're crash landing on what you can only hope is gonna be an M-Class planet. And of course it is because, you think the writer's are gonna kill off this gorgeous face? 

    Nah bro, not in the first fucking season, thank you.. But damn you thought I looked good all clean-cut, didn't you, and look at me now, disheveled, bloodied, rugged,  climbing out to the wreckage of my ship like a fucking hero.

    A medical officer stumbles up to me, breathing hard. He looks sad but I dunno why. Buncha redshirts bit it, but nobody out of the main crew, so I'm not worried. I turn to my first officer, also in attractive disarray.

    "What do we know about this planet?"
    Image by Thomas Lipke on Unsplash


    @[Star]
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    #2

    Officer Huglava stirs.

    There are only twitches from his two (you'd be surprised how many appendages xenobiology can have) webbed feet sticking out from amongst the rubble and I wait, wondering if it's life or shock stirring our Science Officer. The air around us continues to clear and as I look for the Captain, I spy a fair amount of lifeless red shirts. Carnage that no living eye should see.

    Why do we send the Captain on away teams? And more importantly, how does the bastard never die?

    Groaning, I move away from the debris from towards our leader. I try to move my medical tricorder towards Captain Enoch to assess him and search for any injuries from the crash. A few milliseconds and the scan comes back clear. The man is as healthy as a horse. There is more movement behind me and finally, Officer Huglava joins me. "If you give me a few more seconds to run a few more tests," I start to say before a croak stops me. Glancing down, I stare at the amphibian that blinks in reply.

    Ribbet.

    A few moments and his translator (a small device attached to his yellow uniform) explains: "Captain," it states. "We have reason to believe that this a Class M planet that hosts a good-sized population of Equidae." The frog frowns before its long tongue flicks out and samples the air of this alien landscape. Ribbet, the frog says darkly and it immediately becomes apparent that something that Security Officer Huglava has encountered is... odd. The translator relays his message: "They seem to have... mutated, Captain. Instead of hooves, they have... hands."

    @[Enoch]

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    #3
    You might think that our universal translators would be, y'know, universal enough that Lavfrogians wouldn't have to wear one pinned to their shirts, but despite this being the 24th or 27th or 20-whateverth century, they just aren't. Don't ask me why, you see this uniform? It ain't blue so I don't science. All I know is that speaking with Huggy is a slow affair. Lucky for him he's the best goddamn first officer I ever had, and he certainly never outshines me in the looks department. The same can't be said for this weaselly little doctor.

    Being the best I mean.

    Because he's really not, and he's also not attractive enough to still be in my shot.

    "Doctor O'Cet, this is all quite unnecessary. Why don't you go check on some of those redshirts. I'm pretty sure at least one of them isn't dead."

    (This is a lie, I can see that they're all dead, but oh my god man get out of my good light!)

    "Huggy, did you say horses? With hands?"

    If you know anything about Starfleet, you know you don't make Captain if you don't love horses. It's literally in my contract. Section 9, line 40, initial here. I gotta see these handshorses.

    "Lead the way, my man!"

    Huglava is an imposing, if awkward figure. It's the head, I think, I mean he's basically shaped like an icecream cone, it's amazing that he even manages to stand up. He's just a mouth with some legs attached, but it doesn't do him any harm with the ladies. Unfortunately for them, he's been known to eat them after a date. And no, I don't mean like the sexy way, I mean he literally eats them. 

    And you thought I was the one causing the scandals, right?

    L M A O

    A whole fucking humanoid adult shouldn't fit inside another, slightly larger, humanoid adult, but here we are.

    Anyway, the horses. Huggy leads a small group of us to a ridgeline and points down to where a couple herds have gathered alongside a small creek. There's a pair of stallions slap-fighting. It's the least intimidating thing I've ever seen in my life. After Dr. O'Cet, of course. 

    "Are they... intelligent?"

    Image by Thomas Lipke on Unsplash


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