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Corman Stark
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PostSubject: SOP   Sat Jul 11, 2015 8:22 pm

[USS Phoenix - Crew Lounge]

Nodding to a few crewmembers, Corman Stark stood by one of the viewing windows in the crew lounge. He wasn't sure exactly what the Phoenix crew called the place - ships tended to name their lounges differently. All he knew was that it was seriously starting to look like a good idea to wear a bag over his head...considering how his presence tended to make junior officers nervous, he couldn't go anywhere without anyone thinking there would be a pop quiz at the end.

Stark smiled to himself, shaking his head slightly. Sure, admirals didn't often go around and hang out in lounges...at least, not unless it was some kind of exclusive club. And that's why admirals tend to have sticks in their asses, he thought, turning to go.

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PostSubject: Re: SOP   Sun Jul 12, 2015 9:51 pm

"If I didn't know ahny bettah, I'd say, uh, you must hahve Rigeliahn Feveah." Stefan stood a meter or two behind the Admiral. It was evident from the wide-berth most were giving him, that they weren't particularly interested in socializing with a member of the brass. Or, it may have been him, instead, who was attempting to avoid social interactions. But that couldn't be the case, why then would he place himself in such an environment. Stefan was mostly certain that the Admiral had come down to the Phoenix's mess hall for the purposes of getting to know some of the crew, to drop the veil, so-to-speak, on the upper echelon of Starfleet Command. It was unfortunate, however, that others weren't reciprocating this same desire.

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Corman Stark
Rear Admiral Lower Half
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PostSubject: Re: SOP   Mon Jul 13, 2015 7:27 am

Stefan Ives wrote:
"If I didn't know ahny bettah, I'd say, uh, you must hahve Rigeliahn Feveah." Stefan stood a meter or two behind the Admiral. It was evident from the wide-berth most were giving him, that they weren't particularly interested in socializing with a member of the brass. Or, it may have been him, instead, who was attempting to avoid social interactions. But that couldn't be the case, why then would he place himself in such an environment. Stefan was  mostly certain that the Admiral had come down to the Phoenix's mess hall for the purposes of getting to know some of the crew, to drop the veil, so-to-speak, on the upper echelon of Starfleet Command. It was unfortunate, however, that others weren't reciprocating this same desire.

Cocking his head, Stark considered the new arrival, a light and amused smile touching his lips.  Two things were readily apparent about the kid: he was damned statuesque, and that accent was thick enough to be its own atmosphere.  It still amazed Corman just how people could still hold onto their native tongues, even on a planet like Earth, that had been unified for centuries.  This ship's own chief engineer had a touch of a slower drawl, and he was damned half-Centauran.

He had to give the man one thing, though...he definitely had stones.  Judging from the uniform color, Stark could infer that the kid was Ops or Security.  All newly-minted officers had their own swagger - God knew he'd been incorrigible after graduation - but pilots and sec/tac had a style all their own.  "I don't know," he replied, rolling a shoulder in a shrug.  "I haven't noticed a rash that won't go away after a week."  Stark stuck his hand out.  He knew the gesture wasn't the same on every world - in fact, it was as rude as a middle finger to some, and a declaration of war on at least one world - but this kid was human, and that accent was as Bostonian as tax rebellion.  "Stark, acting CO.  Good to meet you."

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PostSubject: Re: SOP   Tue Jul 14, 2015 1:11 pm

Corman Stark wrote:
Cocking his head, Stark considered the new arrival, a light and amused smile touching his lips.  Two things were readily apparent about the kid:  he was damned statuesque, and that accent was thick enough to be its own atmosphere.  It still amazed Corman just how people could still hold onto their native tongues, even on a planet like Earth, that had been unified for centuries.  This ship's own chief engineer had a touch of a slower drawl, and he was damned half-Centauran.

He had to give the man one thing, though...he definitely had stones.  Judging from the uniform color, Stark could infer that the kid was Ops or Security.  All newly-minted officers had their own swagger - God knew he'd been incorrigible after graduation - but pilots and sec/tac had a style all their own.  "I don't know," he replied, rolling a shoulder in a shrug.  "I haven't noticed a rash that won't go away after a week."  Stark stuck his hand out.  He knew the gesture wasn't the same on every world - in fact, it was as rude as a middle finger to some, and a declaration of war on at least one world - but this kid was human, and that accent was as Bostonian as tax rebellion.  "Stark, acting CO.  Good to meet you."

"Oh, wow, ahcting CO?" Stefan accepted the man's hand into his own, gripping it with gentle firmness. He had assumed the crew's avoidance was due, in part, to the flag uniform. It struck Stefan as odd that they were hesitant to socialize with the Admiral when such opportunities were scarce. He may have been a greenhorn, but Stefan never passed up an experience, regardless of the circumstances. "Stefahn Ives, sir." He reciprocated the introduction, offering a broad smile as hazel-colored eyes studied Stark's facial features. "Nice to meet yah." He continued, breaking the formal embrace before leaning against the frame of the port. "So, ahcting CO? Whaht's up with thaht?" He wondered with tentative curiosity.

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PostSubject: Re: SOP   Tue Jul 14, 2015 9:06 pm

Stefan Ives wrote:

"Oh, wow, ahcting CO?" Stefan accepted the man's hand into his own, gripping it with  gentle firmness. He had assumed the crew's avoidance was due, in part, to the flag uniform. It struck Stefan as odd that they were hesitant to socialize with the Admiral when such opportunities were scarce. He may have been a greenhorn, but Stefan never passed up an experience, regardless of the circumstances. "Stefahn Ives, sir." He reciprocated the introduction, offering a broad smile as hazel-colored eyes studied Stark's facial features. "Nice to meet yah." He continued, breaking the formal embrace before leaning against the frame of the port. "So, ahcting CO? Whaht's up with thaht?" He wondered with tentative curiosity.

Stones, indeed, Stark thought, shaking the ensign's hand. The kid certainly did have a firm handshake. Most people would have avoided him simply because he was an admiral, but this kid not only came right up to him, but started casually dropping questions. Of course, a security officer was expected to be a cut above the rest, as far as internal fortitude was concerned.

Then again, he could just be a sociopath. But...Starfleet had psych evals for stuff like that. "Indeed, Mr. Ives. I am acting as the officer commanding this ship while Starfleet decides who to send as the permanent first officer." He raised an eyebrow, smiling dryly. "I'm surprised you didn't hear that as soon as you came aboard. Unless...of course...lower-decks gossip isn't what it used to be."


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PostSubject: Re: SOP   Tue Jul 14, 2015 9:50 pm

Corman Stark wrote:
Stones, indeed, Stark thought, shaking the ensign's hand.  The kid certainly did have a firm handshake.  Most people would have avoided him simply because he was an admiral, but this kid not only came right up to him, but started casually dropping questions.  Of course, a security officer was expected to be a cut above the rest, as far as internal fortitude was concerned.  

Then again, he could just be a sociopath.  But...Starfleet had psych evals for stuff like that.  "Indeed, Mr. Ives.  I am acting as the officer commanding this ship while Starfleet decides who to send as the permanent first officer."  He raised an eyebrow, smiling dryly.  "I'm surprised you didn't hear that as soon as you came aboard.  Unless...of course...lower-decks gossip isn't what it used to be."

Stefan chuckled, conceding to Stark's quip. "Oh, theahe's plenty of gossip mulling ahbout this plahce." He raised his glass as if it were a pointer, gesturing to the others gathering to socialize. "In my profession, rumoahs ahre ahn invahluahble resource; they cahn eitheah leahd to something woahthwhile or leahve you chasing ghosts, depending on how much you invest in theiah integrity, of couahse." He paused just long enough to sip from the beveled rim of the beverage he was nursing. "But I've leahrned to ahccept gossip for whaht it is, one of mahny interpahetahtions of the truth." He winked at the Admiral, a playful gesture that he hoped was appropriate for their current environment. "So, why didn't they just promote the current XO to CO ahnd ahppoint ah temporahry XO until one could be secured for a moahe permahnent posting?" He knew he was treading the line between casual conversation and nosey, but thought he'd try for it anyway.

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PostSubject: Re: SOP   Tue Jul 14, 2015 10:49 pm

Stefan Ives wrote:


Stefan chuckled, conceding to Stark's quip. "Oh, theahe's plenty of gossip mulling ahbout this plahce." He raised his glass as if it were a pointer, gesturing to the others gathering to socialize. "In my profession, rumoahs ahre ahn invahluahble resource; they cahn eitheah leahd to something woahthwhile or leahve you chasing ghosts, depending on how much you invest in theiah integrity, of couahse." He paused just long enough to sip from the beveled rim of the beverage he was nursing. "But I've leahrned to ahccept gossip for whaht it is, one of mahny interpahetahtions of the truth." He winked at the Admiral, a playful gesture that he hoped was appropriate for their current environment. "So, why didn't they just promote the current XO to CO ahnd ahppoint ah temporahry XO until one could be secured for a moahe permahnent posting?" He knew he was treading the line between casual conversation and nosey, but thought he'd try for it anyway.

The look that Stark gave Ives was a flat one, allowing very little in his flint-brown eyes to betray his emotions. "The short answer, ensign, is that it's not a speck of your goddamn business." Shrugging, Stark leaned against the bulkhead, a small smile touching his lips. "The longer answer, since I'm bored and you actually had the guts to come talk to me...the current XO is also the captain of the ship. Captain T'Koris has been temporarily...de-frocked? to XO. Starfleet Command felt it best to have someone they trusted in the CO and XO role while a replacement was found, considering how abruptly the last XO departed. And, before you ask," he said, grinning for real, "no, I won't tell you what happened to him. If you really want to know...go knock on T'Koris' door and ask her, see how far that gets you."

He glanced over at the bar area. "My hand's conspicuously empty, Mr. Ives. What say we make our way over there and remedy that."

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PostSubject: Re: SOP   Wed Jul 15, 2015 9:08 am

Corman Stark wrote:
The look that Stark gave Ives was a flat one, allowing very little in his flint-brown eyes to betray his emotions.  "The short answer, ensign, is that it's not a speck of your goddamn business."  Shrugging, Stark leaned against the bulkhead, a small smile touching his lips.  "The longer answer, since I'm bored and you actually had the guts to come talk to me...the current XO is also the captain of the ship.  Captain T'Koris has been temporarily...de-frocked?  to XO.  Starfleet Command felt it best to have someone they trusted in the CO and XO role while a replacement was found, considering how abruptly the last XO departed.  And, before you ask," he said, grinning for real, "no, I won't tell you what happened to him.  If you really want to know...go knock on T'Koris' door and ask her, see how far that gets you."

He glanced over at the bar area.  "My hand's conspicuously empty, Mr. Ives.  What say we make our way over there and remedy that."

Stefan gestured to the bar, "Thaht won't do aht ahll." It was true, the lower decks were rife with rumor and speculation concerning what had happened to the previous XO, yet matched with equal titillation by Starfleet Command's bold insinuation of Stark into the on board command structure, effectively displacing T'Koris, from the assertions he'd already heard since coming on board, was the woman's rightful place in the center chair. Ignorance didn't allow for Stefan to have an opinion one way or the other; he merely listened to the opinion of others and tucked the information away for later consideration. "My ahpologies for prying," he finally replied as they meandered toward the bar, "I've heahrd some, um, interesting stories since coming on boaahd and thought perhahps I might get the truth strahight from the horse's mouth." Stefan wasn't trying to ingratiate himself in being so bluntly honest. "No offense, of couahse." He finished as they rounded the bar.

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PostSubject: Re: SOP   Wed Jul 15, 2015 9:31 pm

Stefan Ives wrote:

Stefan gestured to the bar, "Thaht won't do aht ahll." It was true, the lower decks were rife with rumor and speculation concerning what had happened to the previous XO, yet matched with equal titillation by Starfleet Command's bold insinuation of Stark into the on board command structure, effectively displacing T'Koris, from the assertions he'd already heard since coming on board, was the woman's rightful place in the center chair. Ignorance didn't allow for Stefan to have an opinion one way or the other; he merely listened to the opinion of others and tucked the information away for later consideration. "My ahpologies for prying," he finally replied as they meandered toward the bar, "I've heahrd some, um, interesting stories since coming on boaahd and thought perhahps I might get the truth strahight from the horse's mouth." Stefan wasn't trying to ingratiate himself in being so bluntly honest. "No offense, of couahse." He finished as they rounded the bar.

Glancing over at the young officer, Stark only gave him a half-smile, offering no more about the current situation with the Phoenix's command staff. He ordered a coffee, straight and black, wishing it was whiskey or something else like that. However, he'd never given a damn for synthehol, and it wouldn't be proper for him to break out real alcohol in front of all these poor people and offer them none. Someone might file a grievance for cruel and unjust treatment.

"Mouth or not, I suppose we all become the horse's ass...if we stick around long enough," Stark replied, smirking slightly as he nodding in thanks for the coffee. "So. Sec/tac, is it? Is this your first assignment? How are you finding it?"

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PostSubject: Re: SOP   Sat Jul 18, 2015 12:09 pm

Corman Stark wrote:
Glancing over at the young officer, Stark only gave him a half-smile, offering no more about the current situation with the Phoenix's command staff.  He ordered a coffee, straight and black, wishing it was whiskey or something else like that.  However, he'd never given a damn for synthehol, and it wouldn't be proper for him to break out real alcohol in front of all these poor people and offer them none.  Someone might file a grievance for cruel and unjust treatment.

"Mouth or not, I suppose we all become the horse's ass...if we stick around long enough," Stark replied, smirking slightly as he nodding in thanks for the coffee.  "So.  Sec/tac, is it?  Is this your first assignment?  How are you finding it?"

Stefan tucked away the Admiral's 'horses ass' quip, thinking that such a metaphor could come in handy. "I ahm." He replied simply before taking another sip from his beverage, wetting his lips as he sidled up next to Stark. "My expeahtise is shipboaahd security, with ah concentrahtion in conflict resolution ahnd crisis mahnahgement," he explained further, "but I'm dahmned proficient when mahnahging the weahpons control systems, too." To some, he may have sounded conceited or arrogant, untethered by the constraints of a humbled passiveness. Stefan didn't see himself as egotistical or superior to others. Where the safety of both ship and crew were concerned, Stefan didn't have the luxury to second guess himself. In a matter of seconds, he was expected to assess a situation, devise a strategic plan of action, and implement it in such a way so as to limit the overall loss of life and collateral damage. Although he was lacking experience, no one would accept the excuse of 'I'm young and inexperienced' in the fallout of a devastating outcome. So he was fine if other people's perception of him was cocky or conceited, if it meant they remained safe and secure. "The Phoenix is my first ahssignment, yeah." He continued, "It's been going ahlright." He finished unenthusiastically with a dismissive shrug of the shoulders. "Whaht ahbout you? Is it weiahd to be bahck in the centeah chahir rahtheah thahn flying the USS Paypah-pusheah?" His tone of voice betrayed hints of genuine curiosity.

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PostSubject: Re: SOP   Sun Jul 19, 2015 8:30 pm

Stefan Ives wrote:

Stefan tucked away the Admiral's 'horses ass' quip, thinking that such a metaphor could come in handy. "I ahm." He replied simply before taking another sip from his beverage, wetting his lips as he sidled up next to Stark. "My expeahtise is shipboaahd security, with ah concentrahtion in conflict resolution ahnd crisis mahnahgement," he explained further, "but I'm dahmned proficient when mahnahging the weahpons control systems, too." To some, he may have sounded conceited or arrogant, untethered by the constraints of a humbled passiveness. Stefan didn't see himself as egotistical or superior to others. Where the safety of both ship and crew were concerned, Stefan didn't have the luxury to second guess himself. In a matter of seconds, he was expected to assess a situation, devise a strategic plan of action, and implement it in such a way so as to limit the overall loss of life and collateral damage. Although he was lacking experience, no one would accept the excuse of 'I'm young and inexperienced' in the fallout of a devastating outcome. So he was fine if other people's perception of him was cocky or conceited, if it meant they remained safe and secure. "The Phoenix is my first ahssignment, yeah." He continued, "It's been going ahlright." He finished unenthusiastically with a dismissive shrug of the shoulders. "Whaht ahbout you? Is it weiahd to be bahck in the centeah chahir rahtheah thahn flying the USS Paypah-pusheah?" His tone of voice betrayed hints of genuine curiosity.

"Weird? No, not really. I haven't worn a brass hat long enough for it to corrode all my brains," Stark replied, sipping his coffee with a small smile, marveling at the kid's seeming ability to stuff in about double the amount of syllables needed for his words. "I graduated out of the Academy in Sec/Tac, as well. Cruised and posted to the USS Lantree...spent about eight years on her. Miranda-class, older than Methuselah, but goddamn, she had charm. And punch. They knew how to build 'em back then."

Of course, he had transferred off the Lantree and to the Tucker before the tragedy that had befallen the former. Whole crew killed by disease, and then blown up. He'd still had a lot of good friends on that ship.

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PostSubject: Re: SOP   Mon Jul 20, 2015 10:10 pm

Corman Stark wrote:
"Weird?  No, not really.  I haven't worn a brass hat long enough for it to corrode all my brains," Stark replied, sipping his coffee with a small smile, marveling at the kid's seeming ability to stuff in about double the amount of syllables needed for his words.  "I graduated out of the Academy in Sec/Tac, as well.  Cruised and posted to the USS Lantree...spent about eight years on her.  Miranda-class, older than Methuselah, but goddamn, she had charm.  And punch.  They knew how to build 'em back then."

Of course, he had transferred off the Lantree and to the Tucker before the tragedy that had befallen the former.  Whole crew killed by disease, and then blown up.  He'd still had a lot of good friends on that ship.

When the standard was five, eight years was a long tour of duty on any given assignment. Stefan knew there were occasions when assignments lasted longer than the average, but those cases were rare. Would he still be a part of the Phoenix's crew in the next two or three years, let alone five to eight? Stefan liked to think so, but intimately aware of the variables that could drastically change the course of any Starfleet officer's career. "Eight yeah's of dedicahted service... thaht's quite an ahccomplishment." Stefan noted thoughtfully, raising his glass in a subtle toast. He relished the final sip of his beverage before asking, "Why'd you leahve?" He asked, placing the empty glass on the countertop, he gently rotated it, eyes intent its clear blue hues.

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PostSubject: Re: SOP   Mon Jul 20, 2015 10:27 pm

Stefan Ives wrote:

When the standard was five, eight years was a long tour of duty on any given assignment. Stefan knew there were occasions when assignments lasted longer than the average, but those cases were rare. Would he still be a part of the Phoenix's crew in the next two or three years, let alone five to eight? Stefan liked to think so, but intimately aware of the variables that could drastically change the course of any Starfleet officer's career. "Eight yeah's of dedicahted service... thaht's quite an ahccomplishment." Stefan noted thoughtfully, raising his glass in a subtle toast. He relished the final sip of his beverage before asking, "Why'd you leahve?" He asked, placing the empty glass on the countertop, he gently rotated it, eyes intent its clear blue hues.

Stark chuckled slightly, mostly to himself, as he took another drink of coffee.  When he'd been this kid's age, the Fleet he'd entered had been mostly a peacetime one.  Oh, there were the Cardies, of course, and the Tzenkethi.  Nothing like the world Ives had come into, though.  

"Tours were a little longer, and the promotions slower, back then," he answered, an amused look coming over his face.  "I was offered a position on the Tucker as Chief of Security, a position which I held for eight years.  Captain Hale had me take and keep certified on my bridge officer certification, and eventually the XO's spot came open.  And I," he grinned, draining his coffee, "put off Security gold for Command red."

He held out the glass to the barkeep, who dutifully re-filled it.  It was real caffeine, which was starting to play hell on his sleep cycles, but...ah, well.  "Since your eyes haven't glazed over completely yet...anyway.  I was XO of the Tucker for two more years, and then Starfleet Command offered me my own ship.  USS Tuscarora, New Orelans-class.  Doughty ship.  I held her for eleven years.  Wolf 359 to the gates of Cardassia Prime."

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PostSubject: Re: SOP   Sat Jul 25, 2015 1:55 pm

Corman Stark wrote:
Stark chuckled slightly, mostly to himself, as he took another drink of coffee.  When he'd been this kid's age, the Fleet he'd entered had been mostly a peacetime one.  Oh, there were the Cardies, of course, and the Tzenkethi.  Nothing like the world Ives had come into, though.  

"Tours were a little longer, and the promotions slower, back then," he answered, an amused look coming over his face.  "I was offered a position on the Tucker as Chief of Security, a position which I held for eight years.  Captain Hale had me take and keep certified on my bridge officer certification, and eventually the XO's spot came open.  And I," he grinned, draining his coffee, "put off Security gold for Command red."

He held out the glass to the barkeep, who dutifully re-filled it.  It was real caffeine, which was starting to play hell on his sleep cycles, but...ah, well.  "Since your eyes haven't glazed over completely yet...anyway.  I was XO of the Tucker for two more years, and then Starfleet Command offered me my own ship.  USS Tuscarora, New Orelans-class.  Doughty ship.  I held her for eight years.  Wolf 359 to the gates of Cardassia Prime."

Stefan was quietly engrossed in the Admiral's abbreviated retelling of his service jacket. An impressive term of dedicated service filled with advancement and promotion, accolades and achievements, aspects of which Stefan could tell Stark took tremendous pride in. "Wahs it ah difficult decision, tahking on the responsibility of commahnd?" Listening, he absentmindedly fiddled with the empty glass until the barkeep removed it from his reach, a hint of annoyance in the action as they silently rolled their eyes, refilling Stark's coffee glass in tandem. "I studied Wolf 359 during my senioah yeah, Advanced Tactical Methodologies and their Ethical Deliberations. The holosimulations were... captivating, for lack of a bettah word." Stefan noted solemnly, remembering with utter clarity learning of his father's death at the hands of the Borg. He'd been in class when the school's Counselor asked for him in private. He felt as numb then as he did now, still uncertain of how to process the loss. He felt completely detached, suppressing all memory of the man as if he were nothing more than a make-believe character in an imaginative game of pretend. It was ironic, how he could recall the finite details of the moment in which he was told that his father had been killed, yet he couldn't remember the color of his fathers' eyes, or the familiar scratch of his chin stubble, or how he was strong and incredibly protective of his family, especially of Stefan. It was all but a blur, one that he'd compartmentalized and stored away in the darkest reaches of his mind. "Whaht, um," he cleared his throat, subtly rolling either shoulder as he willed away feelings of remorse and guilt, "becahme of the Tuscahroah?" His accent altering the correct pronunciation.

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PostSubject: Re: SOP   Sun Jul 26, 2015 5:55 pm

Stefan Ives wrote:

Stefan was quietly engrossed in the Admiral's abbreviated retelling of his service jacket. An impressive term of dedicated service filled with advancement and promotion, accolades and achievements, aspects of which Stefan could tell Stark took tremendous pride in. "Wahs it ah difficult decision, tahking on the responsibility of commahnd?" Listening, he absentmindedly fiddled with the empty glass until the barkeep removed it from his grasp, a hint of annoyance in the action as they silently rolled their eyes, refilling Stark's coffee glass in tandem. "I studied Wolf 359 during my senioah yeah, Advanced Tactical Methodologies and their Ethical Deliberations. The holosimulations were... captivating, for lack of a bettah word." Stefan noted solemnly, remembering with utter clarity his father's death at the hands of the Borg. He'd been in class when the school's Counselor asked for him in private. He felt as numb then as he did now, still uncertain of how to process the loss. He felt completely detached, suppressing all memory of the man as if he were nothing more than a make-believe character in his inventive games of pretend. It was ironic, how he could recall the finite details of the moment in which he was told that his father had been killed, yet he couldn't remember the color of his fathers' eyes, or the familiar scratch of his chin stubble, or how he was strong and incredibly protective of his family, especially Stefan. It was all but a blur, one that he'd compartmentalized and stored away in the darkest reaches of his mind. "Whaht, um," he cleared his throat, subtly rolling either shoulder as he willed away feelings of remorse and guilt, "becahme of the Tuscahroah?" His accent altering the correct pronunciation.

History, Stark thought, with an inwardly-grim smile.  What seemed like only yesterday to him was already history to these kids.  Soon enough, the Dominion War would be relegated to that bin, as well.  The academics and eggheads could sit, smug and aloof, and debate the morality of what was done from the safety that was purchased dearly for them.  It was the way of life, and had been since the first asshole picked up a rock and cracked someone who annoyed him.

"Honestly, I don't know what she's doing.  I know that she was put in for a major refit after the war.  Zheris, my XO, was promoted to captain.  I know she was hoping for a spot in the slipstream drive trials, but those have been put on hold for now."  Stark flashed a wily grin at the young man.  "That's probably classified, so if you tell anyone I said that, I'll have to kill you."  Shrugging, he looked into his coffee.  "I try not to pry too much into the Tuscarora's doings.  Zheris is a hell of an officer, and I know the ship's in good hands.  To do more would kinda feel like driving past an ex girlfriend's house, you know?"

He sat back in his seat, tapping the side of the glass in his hand.  "To answer your first question...no; command never was a difficult decision.  It's what I knew I wanted to do, the second I decided on Starfleet Academy."  And, if he was honest with himself, it felt as if his father, Commodore Ben Stark, would have accepted no less. Stark looked directly at the ensign, weighing him with his grey eyes. "You...have a particular interest in Wolf 359?" There was something, but Stark'd be damned if he could guess. Guess that's why I never was a counselor.

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PostSubject: Re: SOP   Sun Jul 26, 2015 7:47 pm

Corman Stark wrote:
History, Stark thought, with an inwardly-grim smile.  What seemed like only yesterday to him was already history to these kids.  Soon enough, the Dominion War would be relegated to that bin, as well.  The academics and eggheads could sit, smug and aloof, and debate the morality of what was done from the safety that was purchased dearly for them.  It was the way of life, and had been since the first asshole picked up a rock and cracked someone who annoyed him.

"Honestly, I don't know what she's doing.  I know that she was put in for a major refit after the war.  Zheris, my XO, was promoted to captain.  I know she was hoping for a spot in the slipstream drive trials, but those have been put on hold for now."  Stark flashed a wily grin at the young man.  "That's probably classified, so if you tell anyone I said that, I'll have to kill you."  Shrugging, he looked into his coffee.  "I try not to pry too much into the Tuscarora's doings.  Zheris is a hell of an officer, and I know the ship's in good hands.  To do more would kinda feel like driving past an ex girlfriend's house, you know?"

He sat back in his seat, tapping the side of the glass in his hand.  "To answer your first question...no; command never was a difficult decision.  It's what I knew I wanted to do, the second I decided on Starfleet Academy."  And, if he was honest with himself, it felt as if his father, Commodore Ben Stark, would have accepted no less.  Stark looked directly at the ensign, weighing him with his grey eyes.  "You...have a particular interest in Wolf 359?"  There was something, but Stark'd be damned if he could guess.  Guess that's why I never was a counselor.

Stefan's lips pursed as his head slowly bobbed up and down; his eyes were intent on the bar, taking note of the tiny imperfections that spread across its pock-marked surface. "It wahs the topic of my senioah thesis." He started, rubbing the tip of his index finger against the surfaces' subtle inlets. "I think I've reahd heahrly everything theah is published ahbout the incursion, with the exception of whaht remahins clahssified." Stefan shrugged, "I nevah wahs ahble to chaht with, uh, someone who'd ahctually been theah, though." He noted, turning toward the Admiral. "Most don't like to tahlk ahbout it, for obvious reahsons... reliving it, thaht ahin't no good." Stefan admitted to himself that the scars of that day were still fresh for so many. The insurmountable loss incurred by that unstoppable force would be something that haunted Human's for decades, maybe even centuries, to come. He was reluctant to share the basis for his fascination about Wolf 359; that skeleton was meant to stay in the closet, for now at least.

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PostSubject: Re: SOP   Mon Jul 27, 2015 10:33 pm

Stefan Ives wrote:

Stefan's lips pursed as his head slowly bobbed up and down; his eyes were intent on the bar, taking note of the tiny imperfections that spread across its pock-marked surface. "It wahs the topic of my senioah thesis." He started, rubbing the tip of his index finger against the surfaces' subtle inlets. "I think I've reahd heahrly everything theah is published ahbout the incursion, with the exception of whaht remahins clahssified." Stefan shrugged, "I nevah wahs ahble to chaht with, uh, someone who'd ahctually been theah, though." He noted, turning toward the Admiral. "Most don't like to tahlk ahbout it, for obvious reahsons... reliving it, thaht ahin't no good." Stefan admitted to himself that the scars of that day were still fresh for so many. The insurmountable loss incurred by that unstoppable force would be something that haunted Human's for decades, maybe even centuries, to come. He was reluctant to share the basis for his fascination about Wolf 359; that skeleton was meant to stay in the closet, for now at least.

There was something else there, alright. One didn't spend years in the center chair without developing a certain sense for things like that. However, the kid didn't seem eager to jump right into it, and Corman would respect his privacy.

"I took command of the Tuscarora about three months before the Borg attacked. We'd all been briefed on them, of course, but nothing could prepare for that." He smiled, a grim and humorless one. "You know, it's funny. The war with the Dominion kinda raised the stakes for us all. But up to that point? Yeah. The Federation did a lot of growing up, that day. Not even the Cardies or Tzenkethi had struck so close."

He was silent for a long moment. "We arrived a little later than many of the ships in Admiral Hanson's task force...otherwise, we probably would have been destroyed or scrapped with the majority of them. They still maintain it, you know. The ship graveyard? As a kind of memorial."

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