I took a stab at it. Transliterated, it says: “Qapla’. Qu’Dunvad ghunwl’ DlSam.” I ran it through Bing’s translator (since the only word I recognize is Qapla’), and I got “Success. Your baby better is done.” I think the translation is wrong. When I was playing with another translator, it gave me “Success. For the glorious battle has begun” which seems more fitting.
Translating the website (search up Castra Sweden), it seems to be an IT consultant/management place (that has a lot of sci-fi references from Star Wars/Star Trek), so this is probably the best and most accurate translation. Good job on your Klingon! You are a glorious warrior, unlike me!
First time seeing your post, I quotient give up just yet. I enjoyed the issue but felt the fight dialogue was too one sided amd I have absolutely no idea what happened with The Cisco and the beam then his big “Nooo” moment.
I don’t think it’s a matter of giving up so much as it is acknowledging that these posts don’t really serve the community. Which is fine. Trek comics are obviously a niche within a niche, so there isn’t enough interest here to generate discussion.
I hear ya. I am at least reading this current run. Most lemmy users are new and haven’t had a full explore yet. Communities are still getting ramped up.
Hey, did y’all know that IDW’s solicitations don’t list the books that come out in the first week of the month? Those are always included in the solicitations for the preceding month. Anyways! Here’s the post for this week, a day late because I’m sick and forgot.
Also, on the topic of housekeeping, I think I’m going to discontinue these posts after the Day of Blood crossover wraps up. They haven’t really garnered much interest, so that seems like a good place to call it. I will almost certainly post my thoughts on whatever Trek comics I’m enjoying going forward, but they won’t be pinned to the top of the community or anything like that. And I’d love to see others do the same.
I have been reading and following your reviews with interest, but can’t engage much as I have found it difficult to get copies from local comic stores in a timely way. I usually have more success preordering the omnibus versions, and really welcome the reviews to help decide which ones to invest in.
So, it might be helpful to have a running thread for each comic series rather than a separate one for each issue.
Avast! When there be no way to pay gold doubloons for a thing, I sit patiently in me boat and save me doubloons for a chance to legally purchase a collectors edition later.
I’ve heard tales of lost shows found on the high seas, but I take no part in that, myself. O’course, I’d never judge a soul who did.
But perhaps all good sailors do as I do. Perhaps they he equally unwilling to sail the friendly high seas on a VPN in search of lost treasure.
Surely Paramount will make good profits on this twisted venture. Yarrr.
If ye agree with me that this might be, I’ve a bridge I been meaning to sell to an investor as thoughtful at Paramount…
I enjoyed this issue quite a bit, as we finally get a bit of actual story momentum, especially between Worf and Alexander. Sisco being side lined for the issue so we can get the big final confrontation between him and Kahless in the last issue of the crossover didn’t work that well though, and I feel like we’re supposed to care more about captain Meyerson, despite the fact that he’s been in like two issues, one of which being the FCBD issue which was barely marketed.
Still, on the whole, between the Worf/Alexander fight, and the Defiant and Theseus crews working together across the two ships, this mostly worked for me.
I couldn’t tell what I was looking at until I searched for an explanation. All I could see was a person falling into some water past a floating ice cream stall. It’s supposed to be a beach:
I was more like: but if he choses the alternative paths, he doesn’t get the ice cream - that doesn’t make sense! Then I understood our priorities differ.
As an Aussie, I don’t see why that is unusual. You use your feet. But if it’s only two icecreams, then you hold them both in one hand and swim with the other one. All I can say about this one though is that this is a very flat beach: Waves would ruin the icecream pretty bloody fast.
Swimming with something that can’t get wet is not unheard of here. I sometimes swim a book over to somewhere to read, or a phone to a good place for a photo too.
See, that IS completely unheard of here! If it’s not supposed to be wet, we wouldn’t dream of swimming with it!
I don’t know if it’s because you guys are born excellent swimmers like Norwegians are with skiing, but I don’t know ANYONE who wouldn’t assume that swimming with something invariably means getting it wet 😄
My main account is on Lemmy.world, but they’ve temporarily disabled image posting while dealing with those attacks, so I made an alt on startrek.website under the same name.
Big family camping trip. Me, my parents, and sister are first to arrive.
My dad faceplants into a tree, breaking his nose and generally fucking up his face because feet.
This is maybe thirty miles from the nearest town, then another fifteen to one with an urgent care type of thing.
My dude didn’t want to go, because “not the first time I’ve been hit in the face by a tree”
He wasn’t joking.
But it sounded like “nob duh fusd tibe ibeen hib in da fabce by a twee” because homie’s grill is busted
I lightly tap the tip of his nose, and his eyes fill up with water, not because he’s crying, but because his eyes are just highly empathic I guess.
Tell him to get in the car, I’ll drive.
He laughs at my then barely 14 year old ass.
My mom ain’t driving on that god damn mountain roads.
I tell my dad for the first time ever to shut up and get in the car.
Instead of my ass being belted, he gets in the car after tossing me the keys.
Five minutes down the mountain, dude is sawing logs.
I poke him. Like, dude, wtf? I don’t know where I’m going, and you could be concussed the way your head bounced off the ground. I say that, minus the wtf part. He grunts and says “there’s only one road down, wake me when we hit pavement. You said you’d drive, now drive.”
My punk ass manhandling a Dodge cargo van down a one lane dirt road in the Appalachians, both terrified and feeling boss as fuck.
Poke him one we hit pavement. He gives directions, goes back to fucking sleep.
Snoring like a drunk chainsaw.
Get to town, poke him again. He looks around, says, “I can’t see shit, my eyes are swollen too much.” I look at him, and he looks like he said no when Mike Tyson offered to ass rape him. Face is busted.
Get directions from him again.
Off we fucking roll! He stays awake for a bit, but then just crosses his arms and leans over to snore more.
Find the fucking urgent care. Wake his ass up after parking.
Get inside, the receptionist shrieks a little, and people come running because pops looks murdered out
Questions are asked, answers given. Dude sleeps through every damn break in activities, and tried to fall asleep in the xray room.
No concussion, just a broken nose and some fractures of the face. Three stitches in his lip, five in his eyebrow.
Eventually, nose gets taped up, he’s given drugs, and we’re sent packing.
“You remember how we got here?”
Yeah, I think.
“Good, wake me up when we get to camp, and start trying to get your papaw on the CB so he doesn’t worry too much.”
My punk ass did just that.
Back up that fucking mountain, halfway in the dark as night fell by the time we were close to the dirt road.
Shitting bricks most of the way.
Dad snores through me backing up to a wide spot to let a small car go by.
Snores through the bumps and bangs of navigating that fucking road in the dark.
Get to camp. Everybody is flipping out despite CB updates. Dad finally wakes up, climbs out of the vehicle, says “when’s dinner?”, still flubbing words like a bill Cosby routine gone wrong.
Pops pops pain pills, sits by the fire and eats a fucking hamburger.
Then fucks off to his tent and snores the night away.
Years later, I ask how the fuck he slept like that. He gives me a goofy look, “I told you the army could teach you some useful skills.”
This from a guy that served on a medical base during the early seventies during vietnam conflict. Sleeping at will was the skill he valued most from that.
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