Hello Troops,
Here is a nice St. Patrick Day mission for you. I won't even charge for its use :) We could title it "The Shamrock Attack". It will be a hit. I feel it in my bones......
Mr. W.
The Shamrock Attack
In the vast expanse of the galaxy, nestled amidst swirling nebulae and twinkling stars, lay Starbase Williamson—a bustling hub of interstellar activity. Commanding officers monitored their consoles diligently, while engineers scurried about, tending to the maintenance of spacecraft and machinery. But little did they know, a peculiar threat lurked beyond the reaches of their scanners.
On March 17, 2324, as the starbase hummed with its usual rhythm, an alarm pierced the tranquility. Admiral Porter was jolted from a quiet moment of reflection in his command chair. "What the," he shouted as he looked around the command deck for a reason why a peaceful dream was abruptly interrupted. Over his head radar screens flickered to life, displaying an unexpected sight—a fleet of peculiar vessels, resembling giant space shamrocks, were rapidly closing in on Starbase Williamson. First Officer Jon Parker stood near the Admiral studying the sensors screens. His eyes widened as he watched the approaching armada.
"What in the galaxy is this?" he muttered in a disbelieving voice. He was so surprised he nearly dropped his mug of Dr. Pepper. "I haven't seen anything like this since that mission through the wormhole where we encounter space polar bears." Communications buzzed with urgent chatter as reports flooded in from neighboring outposts. Similar fleets were appearing wreaking havoc across nearby sectors, leaving behind a trail of verdant green chaos. After a few moments the invaders' mission was clear. Ships and outposts were reporting in that giant shamrocks were attacking with laser weapons which turned the surface of everything they touched green.
With a furrowed brow, Admiral Porter issued orders to mobilize the starbase's defenses. Fighters were scrambled, and deflector shields were raised in a desperate attempt to repel the unexpected onslaught. As the shamrock-shaped vessels drew nearer they unleashed torrents of emerald energy, bathing the starbase in an ethereal glow. Alarms blared, warning of breaches in the hull as the verdant energy seeped into every corner of the once-pristine facility.
Amidst the chaos, Lieutenant Scott Wiltbank, a young and resourceful officer, devised a daring plan. Racing against time, he led a crack team of boarding party specialists to infiltrate the heart of one of the invading vessels, determined to uncover the source of their mysterious technology. On the transporter pad stood Lt. Scott, with Ensigns Ellie, Tyler, Mitch, Brylee, and Rylan. All wore green camo and carried the latest in phaser weaponry brought to them by the chief armorer Audrey. "Good Luck to you all," said transport chief Tabitha as she pulled down the levers of the transport mechanism. Ensign Audrey stood beside Tabitha. She wiped a tear from her eye as she watched her friends shimmer into millions of colors before disappearing into the ether.
"Will they make it back?" Audrey asked the question but didn't expect an answer.
"They'd better succeed," Tabitha responded firmly. "Green is not one of my colors. It makes me looked all washed out in the face. If I'm forced into a green uniform, I'll never forgive them."
Inside the alien craft, the landing party encountered a labyrinth of pulsating machinery, manned by enigmatic beings clad in shimmering green armor. With nerves of steel, Lieutenant Scott and his team pressed on, hacking into the vessel's central systems.
Their efforts revealed a startling truth—the shamrock fleet was not driven by malice, but by a misguided quest for harmony. The aliens believed that by spreading greenery across the galaxy, they could bring about universal peace. Their motto was, "Clean, Green, and Serene".
Realizing the misunderstanding, Lieutenant Scott initiated a dialogue with the alien commander, offering an alternative solution. Together, they devised a plan to restore the affected sectors to their original state, while preserving the aliens' noble intentions.
With a collective sigh of relief, the crisis was averted. The shamrock fleet departed peacefully, leaving behind a lesson of understanding and cooperation in their wake.
As Starbase Williamson returned to its bustling routine, Admiral Porter couldn't help but be proud of his junior officers. The bravery and skills they demonstrated in determining the Green's intentions, and the diplomacy used to diffuse the situation, was remarkable. As he repositioned himself back into his command chair, he considered putting their names forward for the Federation's Medal of Bravery. He raised his hand to issue the order but after a thought or two, decided to close his eyes and ponder the decision. "One must be careful and consider all options before making decisions like these," he thought to himself.
"Shhhh, don't wake him," First Officer Jon whispered to those tapping away on their command deck computers. "Let's carry on and do what we do best; keep this starbase running in tip top form and make the Admiral look good. We always work to make the Admiral look good." He reached for his Dr. Pepper, took a thirst quenching draw, and walked to the main viewer to stare out into the abyss.
Here is a nice St. Patrick Day mission for you. I won't even charge for its use :) We could title it "The Shamrock Attack". It will be a hit. I feel it in my bones......
Mr. W.
The Shamrock Attack
In the vast expanse of the galaxy, nestled amidst swirling nebulae and twinkling stars, lay Starbase Williamson—a bustling hub of interstellar activity. Commanding officers monitored their consoles diligently, while engineers scurried about, tending to the maintenance of spacecraft and machinery. But little did they know, a peculiar threat lurked beyond the reaches of their scanners.
On March 17, 2324, as the starbase hummed with its usual rhythm, an alarm pierced the tranquility. Admiral Porter was jolted from a quiet moment of reflection in his command chair. "What the," he shouted as he looked around the command deck for a reason why a peaceful dream was abruptly interrupted. Over his head radar screens flickered to life, displaying an unexpected sight—a fleet of peculiar vessels, resembling giant space shamrocks, were rapidly closing in on Starbase Williamson. First Officer Jon Parker stood near the Admiral studying the sensors screens. His eyes widened as he watched the approaching armada.
"What in the galaxy is this?" he muttered in a disbelieving voice. He was so surprised he nearly dropped his mug of Dr. Pepper. "I haven't seen anything like this since that mission through the wormhole where we encounter space polar bears." Communications buzzed with urgent chatter as reports flooded in from neighboring outposts. Similar fleets were appearing wreaking havoc across nearby sectors, leaving behind a trail of verdant green chaos. After a few moments the invaders' mission was clear. Ships and outposts were reporting in that giant shamrocks were attacking with laser weapons which turned the surface of everything they touched green.
With a furrowed brow, Admiral Porter issued orders to mobilize the starbase's defenses. Fighters were scrambled, and deflector shields were raised in a desperate attempt to repel the unexpected onslaught. As the shamrock-shaped vessels drew nearer they unleashed torrents of emerald energy, bathing the starbase in an ethereal glow. Alarms blared, warning of breaches in the hull as the verdant energy seeped into every corner of the once-pristine facility.
Amidst the chaos, Lieutenant Scott Wiltbank, a young and resourceful officer, devised a daring plan. Racing against time, he led a crack team of boarding party specialists to infiltrate the heart of one of the invading vessels, determined to uncover the source of their mysterious technology. On the transporter pad stood Lt. Scott, with Ensigns Ellie, Tyler, Mitch, Brylee, and Rylan. All wore green camo and carried the latest in phaser weaponry brought to them by the chief armorer Audrey. "Good Luck to you all," said transport chief Tabitha as she pulled down the levers of the transport mechanism. Ensign Audrey stood beside Tabitha. She wiped a tear from her eye as she watched her friends shimmer into millions of colors before disappearing into the ether.
"Will they make it back?" Audrey asked the question but didn't expect an answer.
"They'd better succeed," Tabitha responded firmly. "Green is not one of my colors. It makes me looked all washed out in the face. If I'm forced into a green uniform, I'll never forgive them."
Inside the alien craft, the landing party encountered a labyrinth of pulsating machinery, manned by enigmatic beings clad in shimmering green armor. With nerves of steel, Lieutenant Scott and his team pressed on, hacking into the vessel's central systems.
Their efforts revealed a startling truth—the shamrock fleet was not driven by malice, but by a misguided quest for harmony. The aliens believed that by spreading greenery across the galaxy, they could bring about universal peace. Their motto was, "Clean, Green, and Serene".
Realizing the misunderstanding, Lieutenant Scott initiated a dialogue with the alien commander, offering an alternative solution. Together, they devised a plan to restore the affected sectors to their original state, while preserving the aliens' noble intentions.
With a collective sigh of relief, the crisis was averted. The shamrock fleet departed peacefully, leaving behind a lesson of understanding and cooperation in their wake.
As Starbase Williamson returned to its bustling routine, Admiral Porter couldn't help but be proud of his junior officers. The bravery and skills they demonstrated in determining the Green's intentions, and the diplomacy used to diffuse the situation, was remarkable. As he repositioned himself back into his command chair, he considered putting their names forward for the Federation's Medal of Bravery. He raised his hand to issue the order but after a thought or two, decided to close his eyes and ponder the decision. "One must be careful and consider all options before making decisions like these," he thought to himself.
"Shhhh, don't wake him," First Officer Jon whispered to those tapping away on their command deck computers. "Let's carry on and do what we do best; keep this starbase running in tip top form and make the Admiral look good. We always work to make the Admiral look good." He reached for his Dr. Pepper, took a thirst quenching draw, and walked to the main viewer to stare out into the abyss.
Things You Heard at the Space Center (20 Years Ago)
By Landon Hemsley
I read today a post on the blog about things commonly heard at the space center. It struck me how long it's been since I've been around the space center with any sort of regularity; I didn't recognize more than half of the names on that list.
In any case, I saw your note about welcoming blog posts from readers. I don't know that I would say that this fits neatly into the category of "things I would like to put on the space center blog," but if you want to take bits and pieces of this and post them, I won't object.
Commonly Heard at the Space Center 20 years ago... I really had to reach down the ol' memory bucket to unearth these scraps... So many things are fuzzy now.
Mr. Williamson: "GO TO B"
Stephen Porter: "I'm the GRAAAAAAAAAAND POOH-BAH!!!"
Anyone who got hit by Ryan Davis during warball: "OW"
(Side note: Is that his name? I don't rightly remember. All I know is he played baseball and getting hit by those balls he would throw hurt).
Chris Call, in his best Ferengi voice: "All I need is three bars of gold pressed latinum, captain, and you've got a deal!"
Anyone whenever Mr. Schuler entered the room: "Watch out, He's got Diet Coke!" (IYKYK)
Half the staff on overnight camps: "I'm in the odyssey tonight" (because half they time they'd stay up until 4 a.m. playing Halo on the main viewer)
Landon Hemsley (when I wasn't in the Odyssey or chaperoning): "The cave is mine." (IYKYK)
Mr. Williamson: "Votes!.... Bryson, Bryson, Bryson! (Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding)"
Anyone who ever flew Shadows: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" (That mission is legendary)
I'm sure there are so many more, but it's been so long that I can't remember specific quotes per se. Still, other things that stand out to me 20 years after my volunteering/flight directing prime include...
The pillowcases Lorraine would make for staff. Sadly mine died some 15 years ago, but I treasured that thing while I had it.
The cakes Lorraine would make to celebrate birthdays after campers had gone to bed.
The old school engineering panels that weren't really connected to anything, followed up by the isolinear chips that Matt Long put together with that engineering group at BYU. The engineering panels at the Center now make those old systems look antiquated, but man we thought they were cool.
The smell of donuts and chocolate milk on a saturday morning.
Speaking of smells, the distinctive odor of 100+ unwashed campers after 4 days in simulators.
The feeling you got after you substituted a quality meal with candy just to be able to make it through the end of the next mission.
The screams of terrorizing a poor crew with a Drashnok, and the cheers of rewarding said crew with a successfully completed mission.
Injuries... oh the injuries... suffered by staff on away missions. None of them were really ever serious, but almost every time it seemed someone would take a bump or bruise.
The odors associated with cleaning up camper vomit. (I was briefly a janitor for the center, so I was fortunate enough to get this duty multiple times.)
Take care!
Landon Hemsley
I read today a post on the blog about things commonly heard at the space center. It struck me how long it's been since I've been around the space center with any sort of regularity; I didn't recognize more than half of the names on that list.
In any case, I saw your note about welcoming blog posts from readers. I don't know that I would say that this fits neatly into the category of "things I would like to put on the space center blog," but if you want to take bits and pieces of this and post them, I won't object.
Commonly Heard at the Space Center 20 years ago... I really had to reach down the ol' memory bucket to unearth these scraps... So many things are fuzzy now.
Mr. Williamson: "GO TO B"
Stephen Porter: "I'm the GRAAAAAAAAAAND POOH-BAH!!!"
Anyone who got hit by Ryan Davis during warball: "OW"
(Side note: Is that his name? I don't rightly remember. All I know is he played baseball and getting hit by those balls he would throw hurt).
Chris Call, in his best Ferengi voice: "All I need is three bars of gold pressed latinum, captain, and you've got a deal!"
Anyone whenever Mr. Schuler entered the room: "Watch out, He's got Diet Coke!" (IYKYK)
Half the staff on overnight camps: "I'm in the odyssey tonight" (because half they time they'd stay up until 4 a.m. playing Halo on the main viewer)
Landon Hemsley (when I wasn't in the Odyssey or chaperoning): "The cave is mine." (IYKYK)
Mr. Williamson: "Votes!.... Bryson, Bryson, Bryson! (Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding)"
Anyone who ever flew Shadows: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" (That mission is legendary)
I'm sure there are so many more, but it's been so long that I can't remember specific quotes per se. Still, other things that stand out to me 20 years after my volunteering/flight directing prime include...
The pillowcases Lorraine would make for staff. Sadly mine died some 15 years ago, but I treasured that thing while I had it.
The cakes Lorraine would make to celebrate birthdays after campers had gone to bed.
The old school engineering panels that weren't really connected to anything, followed up by the isolinear chips that Matt Long put together with that engineering group at BYU. The engineering panels at the Center now make those old systems look antiquated, but man we thought they were cool.
The smell of donuts and chocolate milk on a saturday morning.
Speaking of smells, the distinctive odor of 100+ unwashed campers after 4 days in simulators.
The feeling you got after you substituted a quality meal with candy just to be able to make it through the end of the next mission.
The screams of terrorizing a poor crew with a Drashnok, and the cheers of rewarding said crew with a successfully completed mission.
Injuries... oh the injuries... suffered by staff on away missions. None of them were really ever serious, but almost every time it seemed someone would take a bump or bruise.
The odors associated with cleaning up camper vomit. (I was briefly a janitor for the center, so I was fortunate enough to get this duty multiple times.)
Take care!
Landon Hemsley
Imaginarium Theater
The Week's Best Videos From Around the World Edited for a Gentler Audience
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