“All Alone In the Night, Well Kydd is Here as are Others” by Danae Tullaris
from February 26, 2007

Sitting at helm, tapping on her console. Is she working…? Mebbe.

I am stuck on the bridge with Kydd in command. We are all going to die. We are so dead. And what am I doing right now? I am mapping this strange place with the information pouring in from sensors. Still, Kydd is prattling on about something or another. I am trying, Goddess I am trying, to tune him out. My ears keep twitching. At least for him it gives the appearance that I am actually listening to him.

Right now, I just want to be off-duty and with John. He is sleeping right now. Watching him sleep puts a smile on my face. Of course, it also makes me just want to snuggle him. Little does he know that while he has been sleeping, I have been sneaking in and taking pictures. If he finds out, I am in for it! His gamma shift duty should be ending soon, thankfully. It will be nice to be back on the same schedule. But, I better get all my Kydd picking out of the way or I will be in trouble again.

It is rather fun to torment Kydd. I should tell him that he tastes like chicken. That would get his sheep. Sheep? Yeah, that sounds about right. Hmm, or maybe I should tell him he tastes like crap. Then again, I haven’t eaten crap so I wouldn’t know. Yes, definitely chicken without the feathers. That would just be weird if he had feathers. But, that does give me an idea. I wonder if I could put feathers on him? Probably. I would just have to sneak out the various powders and supplies, conjure up the formula, say the strange words of my ancestors (whomever they may be), and presto…instant chicken.

With my luck, I’d probably turn him into an ost-something-or-another. Too bad he has already been a flag. That was a neat trick. Flap, flap, flap in the breeze. Q is a genious for that one. Now, he can flap his wings. Maybe the drunk monkey would like a snack. Someone please give him back his spork.

A note from Capt. Stacey Templar, CO of the Mercutio:

This is one of my favorite logs.  It epitomizes the struggle between duty and family. Henry had just lost his wife to a transporter accident.  He had returned home with his children to be with his family.  Upon his return, he had a chat with a fellow crewmember on why he came back.

“Burning Out His Fuse” by Henry Crow

Following the physical and somewhat contentious meeting with Dr. Melanick, he wandered the halls a little, finding his way to the mess.  As he entered a few people glanced up silently but quickly broke the eye contact when he returned the gesture.

Taking a seat in the back of the room by a viewport, he watched the stars etch by like steaks of lightening.  After a few moments, a younger member of staff, a security officer he vaguely remembered before he’d left came up, standing at attention.

“I’m not active duty, kid.”

“Uh..Sir…may I join you?”

“It’s a free country.”


“An old saying.”

The younger man quickly sat across from him.  “Sir, they’re all wondering why you came back.  After what happened….we figured you’d had enough.”

“It’s a long story.”

“I have all night.”

That small amount of assertiveness brought his eyes from the stars to the younger officer.

“I had a talk with my family back home and even after that I was unsure but my sister took charge and made all the arrangements.

“She packed my bags that night pre-flight.  Zero hour for the shuttle back here was nine a.m.  And I started thinking, I’m gonna be high as a kite by then.”  His eyes returned to the stars.  “I miss the Earth so much….I miss my wife.  You know kid, it’s lonely out in space, when you’re on such a…timeless flight.”

The younger man’s eyes never left his former Commander.

“And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time, till touchdown brings me round again to find I’m not the man they think I am at home”  He paused, sighing almost.  “No, no….cause deep down I’m a rocket man, who’s just burning up his fuse out here, alone.”

“But you have your daughter with you, that’s what I’ve heard.”

“Mars ain’t the kind of place to raise a kid, in fact it’s cold as hell.  Besides, there’s no one there to raise them if you did.”  He motioned around at the ship around them.  “And all this science I don’t understand.  It’s just my job five days a week, ya know…being a rocket man, like they used to say.”
“Well if it’s all the same to you Sir, I’m glad you’re back.  We’re all hoping the Captain comes to her senses and reinstates you.”

“Kid, I think it’s gonna be a long, long time…”

Thanks to Tavey of Torchwood Ten for providing the Monthly with a peek at the current mission.

The Eye in the Sky by Tavey
An artifact was stolen from Torchwood One during the upheaval of Canary Wharf, one that is immensely dangerous. The item is one part of four, deliberately separated years before. Derowen MacFie, realising the danger, called in help. John Smith, (Played by Jake Sjet), from the ‘lost’ Torchwood Four arrived, bringing with him an agenda all his own.

A foray into Torchwood Tower has proven to be a disaster. At the current point in the tale, they have been attacked by two different foes, each with an entirely objective. One group, strange controlled sand and earth creatures are after an item that the group brought with them; the other, an immense Earth Golem who seems to be an old Torchwood Ten member, after MacFie. Some of the team are badly hurt. One, Rick Stowell, the research guru of Ten, was revealed to be some kind of artificial creature that dissolved into sand before their eyes. Derowen MacFie, clasped in the arms of the golem, and in a desperate attempt to destroy it, fell four stories into the lobby floor.

Torchwood Ten is in retreat, hoping that they can get back to the Hub before too much more damage is done to London City and before Derowen dies from her injuries.

Torchwood Ten Logo

Here are the bios for Black Scar Ozzy’s characters that couldn’t be printed in the Monthly. Thanks again to Black Scar Ozzy for being profiled this Month. I hope everyone enjoys.
Lieutenant Commander Kurayami Sennai; Tacical/Security Officer
A genetically altered warrior from an, now extinct race (bar two). He took the only option left to him: Leave his Homeworld and join up with an alien group called the Federation.

Full bio available here.

Frederick Bellmore James Black; Torchwood Operative
A vigilante by night, helping those that need help, and beating up those that pick on the weak. Now also plies his trade with Torchwood to save the Great English Empire.

Full bio available here.

Flight Lieutenant Black Scar
Black Scar had a rough childhood after his Mother died, and his Father could never love him, as he blamed him for his wife’s death. Black’s Father gave him a nasty scar down his left cheek after a heated argument when Black was five. He then ran away and was taken in by an underworld street thug gang called the Hawkbats. He had to leave Coruscant after doing an assassination job; having been spotted.

He found himself then as a smuggler. After being captured by Jabba the Hutt, after a failing to swindle him out of a deal, Black found his life in Jabba’s hands. So he became a successful bounty hunter for Jabba.
He finally earned his freedom, only to lose everything he’d worked for after taking on a bounty for Nerida. They found themselves in an unlikely partnership to save their lives, as they escaped from a top secret Imperial base. Stuck with each other, Black follows Nerida to her Rebel contact. They were accepted, and as Black had preformed a service to the Rebels during his smuggling career was given the rank off Flight Lieutenant, and shipped to the Dragon Squadron.

Full bio available here.

Thanks to Mikey for letting us post her favorite log for everyone to see. I hope everyone enjoys it. 

It had been twenty minutes since Mikey had lit up the stations consoles with her message and she still hadn’t received a response. Not that she really expected one, anyone likely to be aboard would know what the Grackan Alliance was, seeing as they were probably in the same business and wouldn’t want to broadcast the fact.  ‘At least they won’t think we’re federation’ she thought to herself. In that business feds were not welcome guests. Chuckling to herself she thought about the old banger they had parked downstairs, it didn’t exactly scream conformity and precision like your avergae federation vessel.

While waiting for a response Mikey had set to work on the life support systems. Since her suit was completely useless she’d shrugged it off, bar the boots, which was an agony and a pleasure at the same time. Now free to move she felt better but her ankle was paying for the limited pressure she was putting on it, hobbling from console to console leaning on a rudimentary crutch of spare bulkhead. Her ankle had begun swelling in earnest and she congratulated herself on getting her boot back on while it had still fit. Atmosphere had now been returned to all sections of the station, which meant she could actually leave the room and find out what was going on with the rest of the team.

She’d spent enough time on old tubs to know what sounds were the station and what weren’t and she was now sure not only were they not alone but they had some humanoid company. Company who didn’t mind letting you know they were here while they moved about the station, they moved with purpose too, these people knew this place.

“Right Hank,” she said outloud to her newly named computer companion “lets go meet the neighbours.” Putting as much of her weight on the crutch as she could Mikey made her way to the nearest ladder and started the climb back down to the computer core. She had to leave her crutch behind but was confident she could find something else when she got there. She put most of her weight on her hands and hopped her one good foot down the railings, slipping more than once as she descended between decks.

Any other time she would have been grinning like the preverbial Cheshire cat, she’d always wanted to see one of these stations but somehow this particular one had lost a significant part of it’s glow. Hank was a fixer-upper that’s for sure and the more she looked around the more she realised how perfect this place was for traders. Anything worth salvaging had been gone years ago, the world below had little interest in the place and with a never ending labyrinth of GNDN’s which Go Nowhere and Do Nothing, storage would never be a problem. She felt the twinge of jealousy that someone else had found it first.

That was when she heard it, voices. Hanging by her hands between decks five and six Mikey could make out voices. At least two, though one sounded muffled, like comm chatter. From what she could make out this guy was in charge, he had that tone she would always associate with no-mess, no-fuss trader captains. Not wanting to risk discovery again she held her position as the voice got closer.

It was through sheer force of habit she remembered to breath as the voice passed by the ladder access within a minimum of ten feet. “…just take care of the one in the lab i’ll contact our ride, maybe we can make a few extra credits out of this little debacle. Oh and don’t forget the spiders, those buggers cost a fortune so we’re not leaving any behind.” There was a murmur Mikey couldn’t quite make out and then the response “Fine. Just remember you promised me the morons share if I offed him while we were here. Are we setting charges before we leave or not because…” The rest of the response was lost as the captain walked away. Moving with a little more haste Mikey resumed her descent, she’d think about what she’d heard when she found the others.

Her feet finally touched down on the appropriate deck and within seconds she had a piece of piping which, when the end was covered by her uniform jacket, served as a reasonably comfortable crutch. Pulling her phaser out she advanced slowly down the corridor, some lighting had been returned by she-knew-not-who but she was grateful for whatever illumination there was. It was impossible to progress silently so when she heard the approach of someone else she was ready, half tucked behind some empty crates, then she saw as flash of light reflecting from a comm badge.

Mikey hustled out from behind the crates and shuffled down the corridor, hopefully none of their neighbours had lifted one from her crewmates. The closer she got the more she recognised the figure, it looked like Star. Sure enough the woman turned around as Mikey approached. Star moved forward quietly, not looking in the best of health herself, as they came together she whispered “Drake, we have a problem, and I need your help.”

Shifting her weight to her good ankle Mikey whispered back. “Commander, you ain’t kidding.”

Greetings everyone,

I am happy to present a special simmer spotlight for the month of March. The Mercutio’s Doctor Caressa Melanick gave us a little insight into her character and provided us with her favorite personal log, which will be reproduced in full below.

Good reading,
Prax Jarvin, Publications Chair

Simmer Name: SaraS
SLA Character Name: Dr. Caressa Melanick
Sims Belonged To: USS Mercutio
Fleets Belonged To: Cochrane
Years In the SLA: 2 years
Longest Served Sim: Mercutio

Character Bio: Dr. Melanick is the CMO aboard the Mercutio. Her current rank is Lieutenant, Junior Grade. Being half-Bajorian and half-Betazed makes her unusual. She has the ability to sense and feel what others feel, and has the sense of the prophets to go along with it. She grew up on Bajor post-occupation. Her grand-parents were both killed during that time. Her teenage years were spent on Betazed. She is noted for her skill and cunning in the sickbay. She created the nanites that saved Commander Crow. She also has the uncanny ability to kick butt when the time comes to it on away missions. She is 5’8′ with an average build, green eyes and Auburn hair. Dr. Melanick also bears the nose ridges common to the Bajoran people.

Favorite Personal Log:

“The Enemy of My Friend…”
By Caressa Melanick and Henry Crow

Please click Read More to see the full log.


Here’s a special in character bio submitted by Sergeant Major Michael Allen Hall from SG-8 to accompany his bio in the current issue of the Monthly.  The Sergeant Major has a very heavy southern accent which makes for a well developed character. Happy reading!

“Yes, suh, Cuh-n’l Reed, commandin’ offi-suh o’ SG-8 tol’ me it was okay t’ ans-uh y’all’s questions, so long as we din’t go anywheres classified.”

The powerfully built U.S. Army sergeant major settled on the straight-backed chair to get into the interview.  His service dress uniform displayed several decorations, including the Purple Heart with a repeat and a Bronze Star with a “V” device for valor.

“I am Sah-jint May-juh Michael Allen Hall, Explosives Spesh-list fer Charlie Team of SG-8.  I was born t’ fah-muhs in south Jow-jah, USA.  Mah fam’ly been fah-min’ thet theah same piece o’ dirt since the Civil Waw-uh.  I reckon mah chil’hood was purty normal.  I was a mem-buh o’ my high school football, track n’ baseball teams.  I reckon folks kinda liked me ‘cuz I never riled much n’ was pretty cheerful.   I prolly would’a lived theah all my life, fah-min’ thet same fahm, cep’n fer dynamite.

“Since he wuz a fah-muh, in those days, daddy could allus buy dynamite, n’ ANFO when he needed it.  It got t’ wheuh I loved usin’ th’ stuff n’ had what my uncle called a tech with it.  I reckon it turned out t’ be more’n jest a tech.  Seems I got a real feel fer it deep down inside, kinda instinctive, y’ might say.

“Way-ul I didn’t wanna stay ‘round thet ol’ fahm n’ th’ onliest way t’ git to college wuz through th’ military.  I went down t’ th’ recrut-uh n’ signed up when I wuz 19.  Then they wuz Desert Stohm, n’ Afghanistan, n’ all.  I went Ran-juh n’ Green Beret ‘cuz they was the best.  My ‘tech’ with ex-plosives got me intuh EOD, n’ thet led t’ SGC, n’ heah we are.”

Thanks to Amy Jacobson from Stargate SG-8 for providing the Monthly with a peek at the current missions of the various teams of SG-8. Check out a brief synopsis of the stories below. Feel free to follow the links after each entry to see how the crews progress.

SG-8 Logo

Alpha Team
“Gladiatore di Roma”
New team leader + new team = disaster waiting to happen. While exploring off world, Alpha Team finds it’s own Ancient Rome. However, things aren’t as they seem and Alpha Team is forced to fight in gladiatorial comabt to win back their freedom. Can the team get along long enough to figure a way out? Follow the action here.

Bravo Team
“The Road to Trinity”
The team goes in search of a missing attack sub, only to find out something surprising. What awaits the team? Find out here.

Charlie Team
“Pandora’s Box”
The mission seemed simple enough. It was just a little archaeological dig to help get Charlie Team’s feet wet again after being on down time. But after finding a small box in the bowels of the Greek-like ruins, the team runs into more than what they bargained for… Trapped, with no sign of escape, Charlie Team must fight their most terrifying enemies yet…themselves. The story continues here.

Delta Team
“Song of the Mikado”
As Zulu base gets back to normal operation, a MALP returns pictures of a small shelter near the Stargate and a disheveled, oriental looking man who proceeds to bow to the MALP. Having the strongest linguistics members, Delta Team is sent to investigate. The man appears to be the only inhabitant of the planet and considers himself the high priest to his god, who he refers to as the Mikado and who’s return he awaits. Follow the intrigue here.

Zulu Team
“Welcome to Zulu Team”
“Our mission will be to investigate the rumors and to confirm or deny the presence of Securi and, if possible, to find Major Jacobson. Should we be able to locate the Major, we are to . . . recover her and return her to Zulu Base. This is a recon mission, people, with the added objective of trying to recover SGC personnel from a hostile enemy’s custody.” See if the team succeeds here.