Post by Judith Eastman on Apr 28, 2021 17:02:05 GMT
It's runoff season. Let's cast our votes among the two finalists. Polling will close at 10 AM Pacific Time on Friday, April 30th.
{Submission #1, by Jovireh Velal, is in the Event}Here's what the nominator wrote:
Here's the post itself:
One was not supposed to Awaken alone. Of course, this one had no way of knowing that. It unfurled its leaves and tilted its bud towards the light, roots shifting in the soil, stalk swaying ever so slightly in the cold wind. Cold... It wasn't supposed to be cold. The light was too bright, the soil too sweet, and the air was too cold. This wasn't right. It reached out through the link for the others, but there was no gentle presence, no pressure of guidance, no one else. How could this be? Its leaves shuddered in confusion, curling around its stalk against the chill of the wind. The last it could recall, it was nestled with its fellows safe and warm and nurtured. Then a foreign pressure wrapped around it, ripping it from the nursery, dropping it somewhere cold and dark. Next, it was being dropped into soil, and nurtured once more, but it was all wrong. Everything was all wrong. Leaning away from the steady gust of wind, it stretched as far as it could reach, slipping its roots free from the too-sweet soil. If a proper environment wouldn't be provided for it... Then it would need to find its own.
The science labs were quiet and still this afternoon, the scientists at work having departed for their lunch break. When they returned, all would be the same as they had left it, with the exception of Sample M-240385J-3. The container remained undisturbed, yet emptied of all but the soil. It appeared as though someone had removed the sample, careful to remove every fragile tendril of roots as well. But who would remove it? Why would they remove it? And why had they left every single other sample, from Planet M-240385J or otherwise, completely untouched? Unfortunately for the residents of Front Ear Station, the mystery was only beginning.
You can read the post in context here.
What a great way to set the scene, from the perspective of a completely different life form.
Here's the post itself:
[Front Ear Station - Deck 26 - Science Lab]
One was not supposed to Awaken alone. Of course, this one had no way of knowing that. It unfurled its leaves and tilted its bud towards the light, roots shifting in the soil, stalk swaying ever so slightly in the cold wind. Cold... It wasn't supposed to be cold. The light was too bright, the soil too sweet, and the air was too cold. This wasn't right. It reached out through the link for the others, but there was no gentle presence, no pressure of guidance, no one else. How could this be? Its leaves shuddered in confusion, curling around its stalk against the chill of the wind. The last it could recall, it was nestled with its fellows safe and warm and nurtured. Then a foreign pressure wrapped around it, ripping it from the nursery, dropping it somewhere cold and dark. Next, it was being dropped into soil, and nurtured once more, but it was all wrong. Everything was all wrong. Leaning away from the steady gust of wind, it stretched as far as it could reach, slipping its roots free from the too-sweet soil. If a proper environment wouldn't be provided for it... Then it would need to find its own.
The science labs were quiet and still this afternoon, the scientists at work having departed for their lunch break. When they returned, all would be the same as they had left it, with the exception of Sample M-240385J-3. The container remained undisturbed, yet emptied of all but the soil. It appeared as though someone had removed the sample, careful to remove every fragile tendril of roots as well. But who would remove it? Why would they remove it? And why had they left every single other sample, from Planet M-240385J or otherwise, completely untouched? Unfortunately for the residents of Front Ear Station, the mystery was only beginning.
You can read the post in context here.
{Submission #2, by Isaiah Quinn, is in the Mission}Here's what the nominator wrote:
Here's the post itself:
Cerjess' words met Isaiah's expectations. As he assumed, there was nothing to be concerned about, at least in terms of preparing. The Trill science officer also mentioned that they were expected to meet in the transporter roomw ithin the hour. Instinctively, his eyes moved towards the chronometer to mark the time. It certainly wouldn't be long, but he knew how easy it could be for him to lose himself in the work that stood before him. "Understood," he stated. "We won't keep them waiting." His hand then gestured to a portion of the map of Talor Prime.
"There at the northern continent," he said as he pointed out the location, "is that beginning to show increased potential of flooding as well?" Isaiah wanted to rely upon the expertise of his fellow scientist, but it did seem to have many of the markers that he'd observed in the other areas which were flooded. He only hoped that the Talorians would be more forthcoming in person. Because there still wasn't a definitive cause that Isaiah could identify.
[Elder Kohr'don - Sector 1A, Arrivals, Prime Camp, Talor City]
He knew that he had no place here, but he also knew that none of them would understand what was happening... why it was happening. No, they were all walking blindly into the Valav, the Great Balance. Long ago, their people were strong and righteous. It was might that had given them this world that they called home. Yet, they had grown lazy and complacent with time. They had reached the point where they were now reaching out for help to survive, rather than deep within to persevere. The planet sensed the weakness and had finally betrayed them. They had lost her respect. None of them understood... not like Orya had.
He allowed his mind a brief respite, thinking over the fallen princess. She truly understood the old ways. She knew how to harness the power that now lay dormant in the heart of billions. What could have been a raging inferno was now nothing more than smoldering ash. All because one of their own chose to smother the flame of the one that would have been their savior. He often mused that had he only been a younger man, he would have been a fervent spear on the battlefield and in her bed. Yet, such things clearly weren't meant to be.
Now, they were left with the likes of Princess Elena, who would greet these off-worlders with her arms spread wide. She believed she welcomed peace, but invites a dagger to hear heart just as warmly. And then, there was L'Sho. He would fashion himself the protector of this world, but has no respect for tradition. Instead he blankets himself in might of the Talorian fleets, yet many warriors of today are nothing more than faithless pawns, whose blades may as well be whithered by rust.
His staff sounded rhythmically with each step, announcing his presence. It wasn't required, but it was respected... as if nothing more than ceremonial. The young were still tolerant of the old ways. Perhaps this would be the generation to do away with it altogether. After all, they had embraced the Federation. Kohr'don could only hope that his eyes would see eternity long before that came to pass.
"Greetings Princess Elena," the elder spoke as he neared the two women. He turned his head and nodded in acknowledgement of the young woman, Kaela. Her presence here told Kohr'don that either her superiors didn't care for this collaboration, or perhaps the princess simply cared for a more amenable audience. "I regret that brighter days haven't brought us together."
You can read the post in context here.
I enjoyed the introduction of the Talorian Elder, how the writer took the newly established canon and made it his own. It also gave further insight into the past and how they are all connected, thus allowing other ideas to form as a result.
Here's the post itself:
[Lt. Commander Isaiah Quinn - Science Lab, USS Mac ]
Cerjess' words met Isaiah's expectations. As he assumed, there was nothing to be concerned about, at least in terms of preparing. The Trill science officer also mentioned that they were expected to meet in the transporter roomw ithin the hour. Instinctively, his eyes moved towards the chronometer to mark the time. It certainly wouldn't be long, but he knew how easy it could be for him to lose himself in the work that stood before him. "Understood," he stated. "We won't keep them waiting." His hand then gestured to a portion of the map of Talor Prime.
"There at the northern continent," he said as he pointed out the location, "is that beginning to show increased potential of flooding as well?" Isaiah wanted to rely upon the expertise of his fellow scientist, but it did seem to have many of the markers that he'd observed in the other areas which were flooded. He only hoped that the Talorians would be more forthcoming in person. Because there still wasn't a definitive cause that Isaiah could identify.
[Elder Kohr'don - Sector 1A, Arrivals, Prime Camp, Talor City]
He knew that he had no place here, but he also knew that none of them would understand what was happening... why it was happening. No, they were all walking blindly into the Valav, the Great Balance. Long ago, their people were strong and righteous. It was might that had given them this world that they called home. Yet, they had grown lazy and complacent with time. They had reached the point where they were now reaching out for help to survive, rather than deep within to persevere. The planet sensed the weakness and had finally betrayed them. They had lost her respect. None of them understood... not like Orya had.
He allowed his mind a brief respite, thinking over the fallen princess. She truly understood the old ways. She knew how to harness the power that now lay dormant in the heart of billions. What could have been a raging inferno was now nothing more than smoldering ash. All because one of their own chose to smother the flame of the one that would have been their savior. He often mused that had he only been a younger man, he would have been a fervent spear on the battlefield and in her bed. Yet, such things clearly weren't meant to be.
Now, they were left with the likes of Princess Elena, who would greet these off-worlders with her arms spread wide. She believed she welcomed peace, but invites a dagger to hear heart just as warmly. And then, there was L'Sho. He would fashion himself the protector of this world, but has no respect for tradition. Instead he blankets himself in might of the Talorian fleets, yet many warriors of today are nothing more than faithless pawns, whose blades may as well be whithered by rust.
His staff sounded rhythmically with each step, announcing his presence. It wasn't required, but it was respected... as if nothing more than ceremonial. The young were still tolerant of the old ways. Perhaps this would be the generation to do away with it altogether. After all, they had embraced the Federation. Kohr'don could only hope that his eyes would see eternity long before that came to pass.
"Greetings Princess Elena," the elder spoke as he neared the two women. He turned his head and nodded in acknowledgement of the young woman, Kaela. Her presence here told Kohr'don that either her superiors didn't care for this collaboration, or perhaps the princess simply cared for a more amenable audience. "I regret that brighter days haven't brought us together."
You can read the post in context here.