Judgement – Evidence is in the hand of the beholder
by Alderman Dorian Gabriel
Post Details
OLD - SD 27:
Tharek was now stuck between a rock and a hard place. A very hard place. The Cardassian flicked himself up, and had a mental kick up the ass to get himself in gear. No more mistakes, focus. He thought, as he made a diving grab for his blade.
The sword was still tangled in the bolian's net. As he lunged for it, she made to flick it away. She wasn't quite fast enough, and hie was pulling away. The two weapons were now tangled together between them in a tug-of-war. The Bolian strained against Tharek's strength, hoping to pull him off balance once more.
Tharek was ready this time, and reversed her pull, bringing the Bolian off her feet and laying at Tharek's. In return she didn't hesitate to jab awkwardly at the Cardassian's groin with her half-spear. The tip of the blade caught the leg of his pants and ripped it open, missing him by a hair's breadth.
"You blue bitch." He said, as he stomped down with all his might onto her face. The impact alone made a sickening noise that would turn the strongest stomach.
NEW - SD 35:
Ensign Kel'tor entered the arena and glanced around the area several times before withdrawing his flashlight and scanning the immediate area. The organizers of the previous events had done a fairly decent job of cleaning up the arena. No blood, no teeth, nothing of any relevance.
"Shit!" he said angrily as his voice echoed throughout the darkened hall. He didn't have time to be walking around in the dark. If he knew that he would be performing a search and rescue for a needle in a haystack he would demanded more pay.
"There's nothing here. . .I'm wasting my damn time . . ." the entrepreneur-minded Ensign stated just as his light came across a discolored piece of fabric in the corner. He walked over to it and knelt closer to it as he examined it briefly. Judging by the pattern of the fibers, it seemed as if it had been forcefully removed by a jagged-edge object.
Considering what had happened in this area just a few weeks ago, it was reasonable enough to assume that it came from a combatant. Kel'tor withdrew his tricorder and scanned the DNA that was still on the fabric. A smile crossed his face as he realized that he had obtained exactly what he was looking for.
"Maybe this wasn't a waste after all. . ." he said to himself as he stood up and began to leave the area before anyone else could walk through.
Ensign Kel'tor
Intelligence
Questionable Morals
by Alderman Dorian Gabriel
Post Details
| Title | Evidence is in the hand of the beholder | |
| Mission | Judgement | |
| Author(s) | Alderman Dorian Gabriel | |
| Posted | Sat Nov 27, 2010 @ 6:53pm | |
| Location | Very lower decks | |
| Timeline | SD 35 - During a lull in traffic |
Tharek was now stuck between a rock and a hard place. A very hard place. The Cardassian flicked himself up, and had a mental kick up the ass to get himself in gear. No more mistakes, focus. He thought, as he made a diving grab for his blade.
The sword was still tangled in the bolian's net. As he lunged for it, she made to flick it away. She wasn't quite fast enough, and hie was pulling away. The two weapons were now tangled together between them in a tug-of-war. The Bolian strained against Tharek's strength, hoping to pull him off balance once more.
Tharek was ready this time, and reversed her pull, bringing the Bolian off her feet and laying at Tharek's. In return she didn't hesitate to jab awkwardly at the Cardassian's groin with her half-spear. The tip of the blade caught the leg of his pants and ripped it open, missing him by a hair's breadth.
"You blue bitch." He said, as he stomped down with all his might onto her face. The impact alone made a sickening noise that would turn the strongest stomach.
NEW - SD 35:
Ensign Kel'tor entered the arena and glanced around the area several times before withdrawing his flashlight and scanning the immediate area. The organizers of the previous events had done a fairly decent job of cleaning up the arena. No blood, no teeth, nothing of any relevance.
"Shit!" he said angrily as his voice echoed throughout the darkened hall. He didn't have time to be walking around in the dark. If he knew that he would be performing a search and rescue for a needle in a haystack he would demanded more pay.
"There's nothing here. . .I'm wasting my damn time . . ." the entrepreneur-minded Ensign stated just as his light came across a discolored piece of fabric in the corner. He walked over to it and knelt closer to it as he examined it briefly. Judging by the pattern of the fibers, it seemed as if it had been forcefully removed by a jagged-edge object.
Considering what had happened in this area just a few weeks ago, it was reasonable enough to assume that it came from a combatant. Kel'tor withdrew his tricorder and scanned the DNA that was still on the fabric. A smile crossed his face as he realized that he had obtained exactly what he was looking for.
"Maybe this wasn't a waste after all. . ." he said to himself as he stood up and began to leave the area before anyone else could walk through.
Ensign Kel'tor
Intelligence
Questionable Morals