Roshanara Rahman

An excellently written joint post by @G'var, @Geoffrey Teller, and @Cole Maxwell showing the evacuation of the USS Veritas (( FLASHBACK - Sickbay, USS Veritas )) ::The panels and instruments in sickbay beeped and chirped softly as the medical staff continued about the business of their rounds. The few patients occupying the biobeds were all well out of danger and required little more than observation at this point to ensure they were all thoroughly healed. MedTechs checked readouts while the CMO sat in his office, updating casualty reports now that the crisis of the Artemis had passed. One patient, a short, red haired Ensign, was busy dismantling a molecular imaging scanner and spreading the parts on an unoccupied biobed next to his. :: Teller: oO I’m running out of stuff to take apart in here. Can’t believe I’ve got to sit it out while the rest of the Engineering team has to glue the ship back together. I didn’t get blown up THAT badly. Oo Teller: Hey Doc, if you let me out of here, I’ll find you a polarization inhibitor for this thing ::he gestured vaguely towards the pile of inert components:: should give you much better resolution than the stock model. :: Cole was conferring with a nurse about the reports while he sat at the desk and heard the Chief Engineer’s yell from the main room. He looked over to see Teller had taken apart a scanner. He took a deep breath and sighed with annoyance. :: Maxwell: oO Just another hour… Oo Maxwell: ::forcing a grin:: While I appreciate that Chief, I’d prefer if you didn’t go looking for things to tear apart anymore. You’ll be able to go back to work in about an hour. Teller: I appreciate you being thorough but come on, it was internal bleeding. ::Smirking:: That’s where the blood is supposed to be! And it’s not like I haven’t got a spare lung. Who needs two anyway? ::Teller laughed as Maxwell scolded him with a look, then turned back to the pile of components. He began to whistle a tune but before he could get two notes out, the deck was washed in the blue of disaster alarms. Teller was momentarily transported back to the interior of the Odyssey and his heart skipped a beat. The Captain’s voice on the Comm only partially snapped him out of his remembering:: Rahman: =/\= All hands, this is the Captain. Proceed to the nearest escape pods and Abandon Ship. I repeat, all hands Abandon Ship. This is not a drill. =/\= ::Teller dropped the components in his hand and froze in shock for a moment.:: :: Cole rose from his desk and instinct took over. He’d drilled for a starship evac at the academy and the procedures were drilled into his consciousness. Rushing in to sickbay from the office, the medical officer started giving orders. :: Maxwell: We’ve got three patients, let’s get them stabilized and prepped for evac. ::to Nurse Imari:: Imari, contact the shuttlebay and confirm we’ve got a shuttle ready to go. ::to another Nurse:: Get the emergency evacuation supplies out of storage and get them down to the shuttlebay. ::to Teller, with a knowing smirk:: Chief, looks like you’re coming with us right now. Teller: oO Not again. Please not again. Oo :: Cole jogged over to the main LCARS interface and began downloading a copy of the medical database as a backup, along with any files containing specialized medicine or treatments the crew needed. He hoped the replicator on the shuttle would suffice for making anything they might need. :: ::Teller looked around in a mild daze, paralyzed for a moment by shock and confusion. He tried and failed to go in several directions at once and settled for pulling off his hospital gown and grabbing a uniform jacket out of a nearby locker. The parts of his mind not reeling in shock took stock of the cabinet and he began throwing equipment into a gear bag hurriedly as the staff in sickbay went to their stations and began doing the same. Doctor Maxwell coordinated the frantic efforts like a trained orchestra conductor. Moments later, A fierce Security Ensign ran into the room, already with several people in tow :: ::As G'var entered Sickbay she was greeted by the same chaos as in the Corridor. G'var watched as the Ship’s Medical staff frantically ran from cabinet to drawers, cramming whatever they could into kits and packs. Scanning the room G'var could see Doc Maxwell right in the middle giving orders to the staff and trying to keep the chaos moving as orderly as possible.:: G’var:::striding over to Maxwell::- Doctor! One of your staff flagged us down in the corridor, said you needed help evacuating Sickbay. ::motioning to Bicondova and IA:: We came to help out, what do you need us to do? :: Cole looked up from the console again. He’d been answering questions and furiously trying to get people focused while dismissing non-essential personnel to the escape pods. It was taking everything he had to remain calm in the face of danger. Now that G’var was here, the doctor grinned knowing he had even more help. But then he saw she had the Orion woman in tow and the grin vanished. :: Maxwell: G’var, you two grab a gurney and help her ::motioning to one of the patients in sickbay:: onto it. She should be stabilized and ready for transport. Teller: Are we under attack? Is it the Tholians?! ::G'var could see the CHENG was agitated, he was wearing his uniform a little crooked and his hair was unkempt::: G’var: oO hope the CHENG is good to go, this must be one rough wake-up.Oo G'var: Negative CHENG, there have been no secondary explosions or decompressions, from what I was able to gather in the Security Center it appears to be an internal problem with the deuterium supply. IA:::sauntering up to Teller::-Darling!!! There’s not a Tholian within a parsec of the ship.::giggling:: You've just run out of fuel, and we’re all about to suffocate. ::Holding her hand out to Teller:: Now why don't you just take Mistress IA’s hand and i’ll fly you right off this heap. Teller: ….your voice sounds real familiar….you’re the woman from the damn interceptor! IA:::doffing a hand in recognition::-indeed ::beat:: you can address me as her Most Magnificent, Mistress IA. Can I Autograph something for you? :: Cole heard a beep and grabbed the PADD with the newly downloaded database backup. He grabbed his own medkit and stuffed the PADD inside. Walking over to IA and Teller, Cole pulled out a hypospray with the pheromone suppressant and jammed it into the Orion woman’s neck. :: IA:::Rubbing her neck::-Noy Jitat! ::leering at Maxwell:: I didn't know you liked the rough stuff Doctor, after we get of this dump, show a girl a good time. Maxwell: ::shrugging:: You were due for a top off. ::G'var gave Doc Maxwell a silent Thumbs up as he re-inoculated IA. From the corner of her eye G'var could see that Teller was hurriedly trying to back a carry all with whatever would fit. G'var could sense the apprehension and nervousness radiating from the CHENG. She was just about to say something when she saw Doc Maxwell begin to step over.:: :: Cole saw that Teller was still frantic. He put the hypo back in the medkit and grabbed the red haired man’s shoulders. He then brought his eyes down to the Chief’s level. :: Maxwell: Teller! We’re going to be fine. I need you to focus for just a few minutes. Alright? Teller: Huh?! Oh...right Doc. Sorry. Alarms got my nerves a little jangled, I’m alright. ::Teller looked around, his heartbeat thunderous in his ears. Staff were pulling themselves together quickly and professionally. Teller tried to calm his breathing but couldn’t entirely squelch the sensation of panic. The lack of a clear task and his own recent experiences were compounding his indecision badly:: Teller: oO This is too much like the nightmares. I do NOT want to hurtle off another doomed ship this week. Not doing that again. Oo :: Cole hoped that sedating the Chief Engineer wouldn’t be necessary, but kept the idea in the back of his mind. Looking around, he saw everyone seemed to be ready. :: Maxwell: Alright people, let’s move! Shuttlebay! ::G'var took an over laden pack from one of the staff and quickly threw it across her back. Motioning Bicondova over, G'var squatted down and took hold of the gurney. Bicondova huffed as the back she was carrying shifted and she nearly tipped over. G'var nodded approvingly as she shifted her gait and kept her balance. Together the two lifted the unconscious Crewman off the floor.:: G'var:IA! ::Nodding to a pile of medical equipment:: Make yourself useful and take something with you. IA: Darling, I don't lift, I supervise. Teller: I saw the state of your ‘ship.’ lady - that thing made a Tellarite garbage scow look well managed. IA:::haughtily::-Fine..::Shouldering a Pack and picking and a case.:: Let’s get this show on the road. Teller: Now that said I couldn’t help but notice you’ve got a fine singing voice - don’t suppose you know any Orion pirate shanties? I’d love to learn a new one! ::Mistress IA rolled her eyes at the smirking Ensign as they headed into the hallway of the dying ship:: ((Turbolift 6, USS Veritas)) ::The ride down to deck 9 had been interesting G'var was thankful the power held out long enough to get everyone and everything down from Sickbay. With all Escape pods launched from Deck Six, the Shuttlebay was now their egress point. As they made their way to the shuttlebay, G'var stripped off her equipment pads, clicking out of the last strap, she smiled slightly, the pads had protected her one last time climbing out of the lift tube, the car having stopped halfway between decks 8 and 9. :: (( Corridor - Deck 9, USS Veritas )) ::Teller, G’var, Doctor Maxwell and party headed to the shuttlebay as the ships lights flickered around them. Teller could hear systems failing and rerouting, the dip and hum of the power system struggling vainly to meet demand. Teller knew that whatever was overwhelming their ship was doing it with shocking speed. Teller tried to open a comm line to engineering but only got static..:: ::As the group hurried through the empty corridor to the shuttlebay, G'var could feel the ship’s systems begin the spin down; the familiar hum of the deck and the buzzing of the bulkheads was fading. To her right the CHENG kept tapping his comm badge trying to raise anyone in Engineering. G'var, prayed to Kahless that there was no one left in Engineering, that were all safely off the ship.:: G'var:::looking to IA::- When we get into the Shuttle I want you to take the Helm, get the ship ready to fly. :: looking her in the eye:: All our lives are in your hands now, you read? IA:::smacking both hands to her chest::-Darlings! I keep telling you, I'm the best Fraking Pilot in the Shoals, you're more safe in my hands than at your mother's breast. ::winking:: Trust me when I say, I have no desire to end my life in a fiery crash on some desolate planetoid. G'var:::smirking::- Now that I can almost believe. ::Teller ground his teeth. The woman’s voice, which at first had seemed so sensuous, was now rapidly becoming exceptionally grating.:: Teller: Could’ve fooled me, way you kept your ship. I’m amazed you lived this long. Maxwell: Let’s focus people. We’re almost there. :: Cole was pushing one of the two gurneys behind the rest of the group to make sure nobody fell behind. He kept his eyes on Teller in particular. :: Teller: oO This is infuriating, something's killing the ship and I’m running through a hallway away from my station. I should be downstairs making sure everybody got out. I’m not making that mistake again. Oo Teller: Computer, Verify that Main Engineering has been completely evacuated? ::The computers reply stuttered and was garbled badly:: Computer: Main Engineering has been ccCCcc evacuated. All on-duty personnel have reported to theEEeEEeir assigned evacuation stations. Teller: I sure hope that’s true. Wait. Computer, Verify that Crewman Shandres has left the ship? G'var: That girl can't still be on the Ship! Computer: CCCCCCCCCCCCreman Sandresssssss departedddddddd the ship at 15:42 hours in Escapppppe Pod Seventeen Sig... Bicondova:::under her breath::-That girl has more lives than a cat...good luck Taz.::smiling:: ::Teller kept running as the main computer core shutdown. Systems all over the ship were failing to their independent emergency redundancies. He only hoped that whatever affected the ship wasn’t crippling the smaller and more fragile shuttles.:: ::The loss of power was affecting more and more systems, by the time they reached the Shuttlebay, G'var was forced to access the emergency door locks, with power down the doors had to be forced, with everyone’s help they were able to get the doors open enough to allow everyone through.:: (( Shuttlebay 2 )) G'var: Everyone get to the Ferdinand, we’re wheels up in five! ::pointing to the shuttle:: IA get in there and start warming her up. CHENG! ::looking to Teller:: Let's see if we can get those doors open shall we. ::Teller skidded to a halt at the lip of the shuttlebay, a wave of vertigo making him nearly double over. Every instinct was screaming at him to run the other way. He heard G’var’s request from a distance and it was enough to keep moving, but panic was fighting its way to the front of his mind.:: Teller: ….should...yeah...doors...ok. Maxwell: Right! Imari, take Crewman Keller from G’Var and get her loaded. Imari: Yes doctor. :: Cole, his medical team, and the two patients in tow boarded the shuttle. The doctor helped get the two unconscious members of the crew onto the benches and strapped them in. Once done, the team chucked the gurneys out of the shuttle and onto the bay floor. The nurses and techs were securing the medical supplies and Cole took scans of the two patients again. :: ::Teller jogged over to the control station and with shaking hands began the departure sequence. An alarm echoed through the bay and the great doors began sliding upwards. The shimmering environment field was flickering, dangerously close to collapse. Teller frantically tried to pull up a ships diagnostic but the panel went dead under his hands. In frustration, he punched the panel hard enough to make his knuckles bleed:: ::As the Medical Staff strapped in the injured Crew. G'var moved to the cockpit. Taking the co-pilots seat G'var was impressed by how quickly and expertly IA was getting the ship ready. Perhaps her earlier boast had some truth to it.:: G'var:::turning to Bicondova::-I want you to stay with the Medical Team, make sure they have what whatever they need and keep them and yourself safe. Now go back and strap in this could get bumpy. Bicondova:::Giving a quick salute with her rifle::- Aye Aye Ma’am! ::Teller jogged to the shuttle, but each step seemed to make his legs heavier and his heartbeat louder. He knew he had to get off the crippled Veritas but the animal part of his mind was gnawing at itself with panic. Hesitating at the boarding ramp, his hand went to his recently healed left side. He could feel his breath again growing short and his chest throbbed with imagined pain. Teller slumped into the crew chair just inside the door heavily and desperately tried to stop hyperventilating:: Teller:: oO Just can’t trust these little buckets in an emergency. Anything could happen. Oo ::As Bicondova went to the rear, G'var turned to IA.:: G'var: Can you fly this ship? All our lives are in your hands now, don't let us down. IA:::Laughing::- That was one hells of a pep talk Ensign ::sensually stroking the flight controls:: Don't worry Darling, I'm about to make love to this big boy, strap in ::beat:: tight. You're in for one hellova show. G'var:::placing her face in her palm::-Just get us on the ground in on piece. Maxwell: ::Aloud.:: Alright we’re good to go back here. ::towards the flight controls:: What’s the hold up?! IA:::Pressing a control on the console::-Nothing My pretty, just setting the mood.:: :: Cole rolled his eyes and let out a breath of frustration. :: Maxwell: oO It’s always SOMETHING! Oo ::As IA powered on the engines and began to raise the shuttle from the deck a strange melody began playing over the internal speakers.:: Foghat:...Slow ride...Take it easy… :: Cole smiled without realizing it when he heard the song. :: Maxwell: oO Foghat? Oo G'var:::reaching for the mute button::-what is this Noise, Focus on flying. IA:::slapping G'var’s hand away::-Pilot picks the music ::beat:: shotgun shuts her cake hole.::winking and smacking her lips as G'var:: Hold On Back There this is gonna be ::throwing yoke forward:: bumpy! ::Everyone lurched backwards as the inertial dampeners struggled to keep up with Mistress IA’s suicidally aggressive piloting. Hastily piled gear shifted around the cabin as people struggled into whatever seats they could find. The bay vanished in a rush behind them moments before numerous alarms began blaring from the cockpit:: IA:: Oh my. It seems we’re using fuel at an alarming rate, darlings. ::Teller looked up at the alarm in the woman's voice:: Teller: What? This thing should be good for hundreds of light years! IA: ::purring:: Perhaps you’d like to explain that to our fuel reserves. Oops. Too late. There they go. ::Everyone watched in muted horror as the moon filled the viewport window completely. The shuttle continued inexorably downwards as systems, starved of power, failed one after another. Using what remained in the shuttles attitude control system, Mistress IA pointed the craft in the general heading their failing sensors suggested was shared by numerous escape pods. Buffeted from side to side, crew, patients and gear were thrown violently around the shuttles interior as the atmosphere thickened around the craft. The slight whistle of atmosphere turned into a deafening howl as people fought to hold on. Emergency lighting flickered and sparked as the uncontrolled descent wrought destruction on the delicate electronics of the shuttle. In the dark, someone wept. IA: ::pouting: I said no flaming death! This is what I get for being a good girl! Hrmph. ::The clouds parted and the viewport briefly filled with glimmering seas and verdant green jungle. A turquoise sea sparkled to the horizon and a string of small islands was visible nearby. The onrushing ground rapidly filled their perception as the shuttle began shearing through treetops hundreds of meters off the ground. One burning nacelle was torn away as the tumbling shuttle plowed into the landscape, coming to rest at the end of a smoking, half kilometer gouge.:: ((Crash site - Day 0 - Limbo)) ::The remains of the shuttle sparked and popped in the smoldering black soil of the island. Nearby animals angrily hooted and squawked as they fled from the noisy intruder. In places, the jungle burned openly. Several columns of black smoke rose above the treetops from other nearby landing sites as streaks of light in the sky heralded the imminent arrival of more evacuees. Sonic booms rolled over the water from the numerous hurtling craft. The shuttle hull itself clicked and popped as it cooled. A momentary shower of sparks from the rear of the craft dispersed as the heavy metal hatch was explosively jettisoned by one of the few remaining emergency systems. Oily black smoke poured from the shuttle as crewmen staggered out, half blinded by the brilliant sunlight and coughing violently from the fumes.:: ::Teller winced as he dragged his gearbag towards the hatch, certain something in his arm or shoulder was badly out of alignment. He hoped it was only dislocated.:: Teller:: oO Never getting in one of these things ever again. Never. Oo ::G'var carefully disengage the safety harness, bracing her arm against the Flight console she slowly stood. Beside her IA lay unconscious, her chin resting on her chest. Reaching her hand to the Orion's neck, G'var found her pulse, her breathing steady. G'var let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Looking back into the shuttle, she could see others beginning to get to their feet.:: IA:::gently covering G'var’s hand::-Why Ensign ::beat:: I didn't know you cared. G'var:::retracting her hand::-You're awake, that's good ::beat:: are you injured ::beat:: can you move? IA:::standing shakily::-I’m fine Ensign ::Turning to the back:: Go see to them. ::As G'var moved to help the others IA called back over her shoulder.:: IA:Remember Darling ::beat:: Big Shiny Medal made of Latinum! G'var:oO Yeah :: beat:: she’s fine.Oo :: Cole had been taken a spot on the shuttle’s floor and had tried to help brace the unconscious patients as the craft crash landed. In the process, his head flew back upon impact with the surface and banged into the shuttle bulkhead. The bright light from the open hatch brought him back to some semblance of consciousness, but pain throbbed in his head and his vision was blurry. :: Maxwell: Huh.. what? ::He shook head to try and clear the daze, but while it helped his vision the pain only intensified.:: Maxwell: oO Got… to… get out… Oo ::Cole was able to grab one of the benches and get to his feet. He instinctively clutched at the back of his head due to the pain. When he brought the hand back into view, his fingers were red.:: Maxwell: oO Damn… Oo :: The doctor looked around and saw that the rest of the crew were making their way out of the shuttle. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Cole followed suit, trying to put the pain aside. But not before stopping to make sure his team and patients weren’t in any critical condition. :: ::Shuffling clear, Teller’s feet sank a bit into the soft soil as he tried to shake the ringing from his ears. Within moments, Mistress IA, G’var and Maxwell also exited the remains of the craft, signaling that no one remained aboard. After seeing to the disposition of his patients, Maxwell and G’var joined Teller at the foot of a nearby tree and tried to take stock of their situation.:: :: The shuttle had come to rest in a small clearing surrounded by what looked like tropical rain-forest. The sky was filled with a large ringed gas giant planet. Cole immediately felt the heat and humidity on his skin. :: Teller: Doc, G’var...I’m glad you made it down mostly in one piece. You ::looking pointedly at IA:: I’m still on the fence about. IA:::Smirking::-I did get us safely to the ground Mr. Spitfire. Show me a Starfleet pilot whom could do any better.:: Slapping the hull of the shuttle:: You know these Starfleet designs are flying bricks ::beat::..very resilient to abuse ::smiles::. G'var:::raising a brow::-I hate to say she has a point CHENG. Maxwell: ::nodding:: Uh huh… :: Cole was just happy to be on solid ground. He was making every effort not to throw up. :: Teller: Right. Now we get to play the survival game. Instructor at the Academy said it goes like this - seconds, minutes, hours, days- you have to figure out if you’re going to survive the next sixty seconds, then fix those problems, then extend it to ten minutes, then to an hour, and on and on. I’ve got some ideas for a search grid if you’re up for a bit of a hike, G’var. G’var:::stretching::-would love nothing better, we need to find any many other pods and crew as we can. Teller: Doc, if you’d be willing, I think you’re in the best position to get an inventory together, then we can figure out what kind of timeline we’re looking at. ::Teller’s head was swimming. The heat and humidity were oppressive. It was getting difficult to focus and the ground was quite soft.:: Maxwell: ::Nodding and looking around.:: We should probably see about having people make their way here to this clearing since it’s open and we have the shuttes resources. I’ll go make sure the shuttle’s emergency beacon is functioning and begin triage as people arrive. Teller::oO Good that’s good...just need...quick break. Oo Teller: Great. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to pass out for a little while. ::Teller slumped against the tree behind him as Maxwell began examining the mans shoulder and arm with his tricorder.:: Maxwell: Teller! G'var: By Kahless’s Beard! :: The tricorder showed the man’s shoulder was dislocated. :: Maxwell: No ligament damage at least. ::to G’var:: Hold him still. G’var:::Bracing Teller::-Check! got’m Doc! :: The doctor, fighting through his own pain, positioned himself next to the nearly unconscious Chief Engineer and took the man’s arm into his hands. With a silent count to three, Cole rotated the arm quickly to reset the shoulder back into its socket. Teller jumped back to life with a yell of agony. :: Teller: Ungh….can’t a guy take a nap in the jungle? Maxwell: ::trying to smile:: That’s what you get for taking things apart in my sickbay. G’var:::lightly kicking Teller’s foot::-Come on CHENG they ain't pay’n us by the hour. Do some push-ups and you’ll be fine.::smiling:: Teller: ::groaning as he stands:: Well it sure ain’t Risa. ::The three of them took in the balmy tropical clearing with a shared look of trepidation. In the distance, the local animals began to hoot again as birds wheeled high overhead.:: [End] =============================== Ensign G'var Security/Tactical Officer USS Veritas V239511G10 & Ensign Cole Maxwell, M.D. Medical Officer USS Veritas V239512CM0 & Ensign Geoffrey Teller USS Veritas - NCC 95035 Capt. R. Rahman, Commanding V239509GT0

I use the TAG/TBC... system pretty much as @Sal Taybrim. I find it useful to specify exactly whether a scene is continuing or not (especially as a CO) because sometimes people will continue a scene well past what I'd consider the natural end and transition point. I know it's probably just a matter of what people are looking for when they play the game. Some really enjoy the simulation aspect of it as the term simming implies and want to sim as much of what they're character would be doing to get from point A to point B. I prefer to write as if we are reading a script/novel, where once the story point has been covered in a scene, we can jump cut to the next scene. So for instance, if my character as a captain talks to someone on a planet and a meeting is arranged, if I don't think there's really any story reason to show her going to the turbolift and then the transporter room, I might instead just put END at the end of the scene on the bridge and then start a new sim showing her materializing on the surface of the planet. In summary, on Veritas or at least my own system: TAG! = There are tags left for people. We do not put tags in the subject lines because we want people to read every sim. Furthermore, a lot of times there are what I call "hidden tags," which are things left for other players even if not explicitly tagged to someone. For instance, if we are in a battle, and the tactical officer announces that we've taken a hit to deck 6 and have lost artificial gravity, we might not tag someone for a response right there, but it'd be perfectly acceptable (and wonderful) for a character not on the bridge to sim themselves experiencing the consequences of that damage. TBC... = This means the scene is continuing on, whether because new tags are left and I want the next person to continue it or because it's part of a joint post (JP), and there is another part being sent to the list right after this. END or --- = This means simply that the scene is over, and I don't want any more new tags added by others when they respond. Wrap up the scene and move on. Of course, it's always good practice not to start and end a scene in one sim. If you start a new scene and leave tags for someone, you should let them respond and then let them continue the scene a bit further. But sometimes as a CO especially, it's necessary to put a definitive end to a scene so that the next story point can be reached. On Veritas, we also employ explicit act cues such as labeling the first sim of an act (ACT 1, ACT 2, etc.) and the mission finale. Every ship/CO has their own preferred system, though, which is again why the academy sticks just to the basics.

Yes, anything written by our members for the FNS is considered part of our universe's extended world building and can be considered public knowledge and referenced in your sims. In fact, this is encouraged and one of the intended uses of the FNS itself.

Honestly, these days I mostly go to the Google group directly to read sims and post my replies, so I basically play the game like it’s forum-based. All of our ships use Google groups for handling the email lists and archives. You can always see which you prefer later and set your email delivery preferences from all messages to digest/summary or even none and just use the Google group sites for everything.

(( Flashback )) (( 121 years earlier )) // Expedition Commander’s Officer’s Log. [Stardate 227411.23]. Seventeen hours after entering the Shadows, Pellecia suffered an unexpected failure of its propulsion and the subspace cloak. Without the protection of the cloak, a subspace drag effect created by the dense tetryon fields caused sudden and rapid deceleration. Though inertial dampeners were able to compensate, several systems were damaged and three crew were killed by shifting cargo. Full damage report and the names of the deceased are attached. Let it be known that they died in service of the empire. // (( Day 2 )) (( Captain’s Quarters, Deck 7, IRW Pellecia )) :: Allek poured another glass of ale as he read through the report from his chief engineer. Besides the critical damage to the subspace cloak and the ship’s propulsion systems, their food synthesizers had stopped functioning, and life support systems were behaving erratically throughout the ship. Not dangerously so, at least not yet, but it was certainly inconvenient. :: :: To add insult to injury, much of his crew had spent the day fighting plasma fires below decks. No one else had been killed, but it had been gruelling, difficult work, and many of the ship’s crew had suffered burns. The Remans had suffered particularly badly, as they’d been expected to handle the most dangerous work. :: Allek: How long will it take to get us back en route? :: The ship’s chief engineer wore a serene expression despite the smears of some kind of soot or grease covering much of her pale, slender face. :: Treyalak: The repairs are simple enough. If we keep up double shifts, I can have the subspace cloak and warp drive back online within 36 hours. The structural damage is more severe. Without access to a drydock, we’re looking at several hundred EVAs to repair the damage to the space frame. If I get everyone who’s qualified to help, we might be able to do it in a week. :: Allek took a short pull from his glass then gestured to the still full one across from him. :: Allek: You look like you need this more than I do. :: She glanced down, looking as if she’d forgotten the fragrant drink was even there. Hesitantly, she picked it up and allowed some of the cooling liquid to touch her lips. :: Allek: I’ll make the announcement tomorrow. Start with the repairs. If we don’t get enough volunteers for the frame repairs, we’ll start pulling crew from other assignments. Dorix: There are over fifty Remans on this ship. Surely we won’t need to buden our officers with this kind of menial labor. :: The expedition commander had a slightly round face. Twenty years ago, he’d been a beast of a man. Now, his former bulk had turned largely to fat, as was common with age. Despite this, he still had the force of personality and the reputation of the embodiment of what nearly every imperial officer wanted to be. Awed to the point of fear. Cultured. Well-connected and respected with both military and the civilian leaders. :: Allek: Commander, the Remans spent the last twelve hours fighting plasma fires on three decks. I’m not sure it’s wise to compel them to do more at this point. Not without rest, at least. Dorix: It’s their duty in this life, Sub-Commander. They should be proud to have it. :: Allek had heard this tone in his superior’s voice before. It made it clear that he would not tolerate dissension. His opinion had been made known, and he expected it to be treated as an order. :: Allek: Very well, Commander. :: He’d have to offer them something in return. First the disease. Now this. He’d never seen so much tension between Reman and Romulan crew before. :: Treyalak: The sooner we get started the better, Sirs. Request permission to return to duty. :: Allek looked to Dorix, who gave a slight nod of approval. :: Allek: Dismissed, Centurion. I’ll come by in a few hours to check on your progress. :: The female stood, nodded to both her superiors, then left to return to her hectic engine room. As the door closed behind them, Allek took another long pull from his glass to empty it. :: Dorix: The commanders of Raze and Sulvian have signaled to ask for orders. :: The other two members of the expedition fleet had been eager to resume their course ever since the accident. :: Allek: If they could spare some of their crew to help with the repairs-- Dorix: I’ve decided that they should resume course rather than wait for Pellecia. :: Allek was so taken aback by this, he felt as if the blow had been physical. Without the other ships, Pellecia would be stranded here. If something went wrong with the repairs, they would no longer have the option of evacuating. :: Dorix: Further, I’ve decided to transfer my flag to the Sulvian. Sub-Commander Vulek will be pleased, I’m sure. :: The muscles in Allek’s his jaw cramped. :: Dorix: The mission is too important, Allek. We can’t allow a delay of this long. Allek: Then why not evacuate Pellecia? :: The other man laughed. :: Dorix: You can’t be serious? The ship still has every chance of being salvaged. I have no intention of abandoning it. :: Allek had to bite back the obvious response. Dorix did have every intention of abandoning it. The only difference was that he was leaving the crew behind. :: Dorix: Once repairs are complete, you will proceed on a course to our designated rendezvous point outside of the Shoals. :: It would be months before they could make such a rendezvous. :: Allek: And if we aren’t there? Dorix: Then I’ll, of course, arrange for a rescue mission. Pellecia is outfitted with enough food and water for at least five years. You’ll be fine. :: Allek had his doubts. :: Allek: When do you plan to leave, Sir? Dorix: Tomorrow morning, I think. We’ll assemble the crew in your shuttle bay to make the announcement. I believe you needed to gather them to explain your repair plans anyway. Allek: Very well, Sir. :: Dorix let out a short sigh. :: Dorix: You act as if I’ve just signed your execution order, Allek. You’ll be fine. In all likelihood, we’ll be back on Romulus together in a year’s time. :: There was that tone again. Imperious and dripping with condescension. :: Allek: As you say, sir. :: There were a few moments of quiet between them before Dorix stood to leave. :: Dorix: You have much to learn about command, Sub-commander. May chance this journey will give you the opportunity. :: Allek poured himself another drink. :: Allek: Good luck with the mission, Sir. :: Dorix nodded his approval of the sentiment, then left without saying another word. By the time Allek fell asleep in his bed, he was very, very drunk. :: (( Day 3 )) (( Main Bridge, Deck 1 )) :: Though nursing a slight hangover, Allek stood on the bridge of his ship. The transfer of command had taken place quietly before the assembly below decks. Now that it was all over, Allek was feeling strangely positive. With Dorix no longer on board, Allek felt like he was truly in command of his vessel for the first time since they’d left Romulus. :: :: The Reman Uhlan at the comms station looked up as Allek passed by. :: Drivek: Sub-Commander, Sulvian has issued a departure vector for the fleet. They’re preparing to go to warp. :: Both ships had recloaked several hours earlier, but Allek still turned his attention to the main viewer. If they looked closely, they’d still be able to see the flash of the ships going to warp. :: :: The rest of the bridge grew quiet as they all watched for the same thing. When two full minutes passed without any sign, Allek assumed they’d missed it. :: Allek: Are they still out there, Uhlan? :: The Reman looked confused. :: Drivek: Yes, Sir. I’m… getting some unusual comms chatter. I think something’s gone wrong. :: Despite his weariness, he felt his attention snap into focus as he stepped back towards the young Uhlan. :: Allek: Define ‘wrong.’ Reman: I’m… not sure, Sub-commander. I-- :: The Lieutenant at tactical interrupted. :: Kenson: I’m detecting some kind of subspace power surge in the immediate vicinity. Allek: Shields up! :: The response was automatic, as was the tactical officers quick hand movements. The hum of the ship’s shield generators was a comforting one, but any relief it brought was short lived as a green and orange fireball suddenly erupted several hundred meters ahead of them. They all knew what that meant. :: Allek: Which ship was that? Kenson: I’m not sure, sir, but I think that was the Raze. Allek: Scan for survivors. Drivek: Sir, receiving a message from Commander Dorix. Audio only. Allek: Put it through. :: The Commanders tension-filled voice filled the bridge, though it was badly distorted by some kind of interference. :: Dorix: =/\= ...interfered with the warp field...unable to...system failure...are abandoning ship...standby for- =/\= :: A second explosion on screen cut short the commander’s final words. This one was closer than the first, and the resulting shockwave caused the Pellecia to shudder beneath their feet. :: :: The silence on the bridge was deafening, and felt like it lasted for an eternity. Allek finally broke it to issue orders. :: Allek: Any sign of survivors? :: The sounds of several consoles being worked came to his ears, but no words. He repeated the question. :: Kenson: No, Sir. No lifesigns detected. No signs of shuttles or escape pods. Drivek: Nothing on subspace, Sub-Commander. :: Allek walked slowly to his raised command chair, fearing his legs would collapse before he made it. They didn’t, but it had taken a monumental effort. He sat deliberately, then took two deep breaths to center himself. :: Allek: Keep scanning. :: It was the only order he could think to give for several minutes. What else could he say. The bridge crew were just as shocked as he was. Despite his failings, Dorix had seemed like the kind of indomitable man that would live forever. His sudden and senseless loss would stun the entire crew when it became known, as would the loss of so many other loyal officers and crew. :: Allek: Uhlan Drivek, send word to Centurion Treyalak to halt all repairs and to report to my office. Immediately. === Sub-Commander Allek Tr’Rehu Commanding Officer IRW Pellecia (as written by @Evan Delano) T239007ED0

That's a good idea. Our quick run down of equipment and other things about our universe is actually already available on the wiki as the 118 Primer: https://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php?title=StarBase_118_Universe_Primer We can look into making that a bit more visible during your introduction to training.

This scene was originally written through seven individual sims by @Sky Blake and @Evan Delano: "Working on a day off" (Blake), "Best Guess" (Delano), "Blakonian inquisition" (Blake), "Speculation and Suspicion" (Delano), "Her modern man" (Blake), "Balanced” (Delano), and "Not used to it yet" (Blake). It is presented in its completed form below. ((Astrometrics, USS Veritas)) ::Stellar cartography had become second nature once Sierra had kicked her training off way back when. While she was waiting for the duty shift to change, for Sick Bay to be ready for her, for the captain to have had a reasonable amount of caffeine, she asked the cartography assistant for use of primary lab.:: ::There was a tingling sensation in the back of her skull when she'd heard the doors to the lab open.:: Delano: Hello, Commander. :: Evan was in the middle of his evening rounds when he was called down to astrometrics. After the Antor II mission, the senior staff had agreed to reduced work loads for most of the crew, at least for a while, which meant that most nights, as Evan was going through his end of day checklist, much of the ship felt practically abandoned. :: :: Of course, as surprised as he was to receive the call, he was more surprised by that person’s identity. He’d known Commander Blake was due back on board - he’d personally arranged for her new quarters - but he’d expected the captain to make some kind of formal announcement once their former first officer had returned to Veritas. Perhaps that would still be coming. :: ::Sky glanced back over her shoulder before turning fully to face her visitor.:: Blake: Lieutenant. ::She greeted.:: It's good to see you again. :: Evan nodded, offering a professional smile as he stepped into the room and accessed one of the center consoles. :: Delano: And you, Commander. Blake: I'd heard you'd taken a commission again. Welcome back to the Starfleet fold. Delano: Thanks. And welcome back to Veritas. :: Evan resisted the urge to tug at the collar of his uniform and instead kept his fingers busy by starting a diagnostic. :: Delano: I hope you don’t mind me doing a little work, since I’m here. I’ve been wanting to run a level 2 diagnostic on the sensors for a few days. :: beat :: How was your time away? Blake: I was sent back to Shadow's Edge, actually. I'm part of the ranger division now - though I'm on my own until such time Starfleet sends a specific commander for me to report to, other than Rahman of course. ::Rangers, though trained to work and survive on their own, technically came in groups of four or more. But given that Starfleet resources and officers were at a stretch with border protection on the *other* side of Tholian space - combine that with the Cardassians and the neutral zone, what few rangers there were, given that they were only a relatively new division of Starfleet, had their hands full elsewhere. Sending a whole Platoon wasn't possible, and sending them one by one would take months, if not years, for the platoon to come together. ::Evidently, her time on Shadow's Edge wasn't all for naught, for a Rangers unit was indeed being set up, with Shei'saur reporting additional officers following in their footsteps. Or, more accurately, two officers had been sent to Meridian (not far enough along the Mother Road to be helpful, in the Brekkazoid's humble opinion) following Sky's request for additional support within the Shoals. They'd be there in about six months, assuming they weren't asked to turn around and go back after only two months travel following some ridiculous fleet-wide emergency. To which they'd also be late for. ::The Shoals acted like a double edge sword in that regard.:: :So long as she was on Veritas or in the vicinity of Veritas, Rahman was her commanding officer.:: :: Evan nodded again. The computer was doing its thing: running the Veritas’ complex array of sensor palettes through an automated calibration procedure and a range of diagnostic tests that would show even a slight misalignment. When he was satisfied it wouldn’t need additional input from him - at least for a few minutes - the operations officer refocused his attention on Blake. :: Delano: Given what we’ve just been through on Antor, I imagine the captain will appreciate having a ranger on board. Are you hitching a ride, or are you planning to be around for a while? Blake: Until such time there's a unit for me to report to, I'm here on a more permanent basis. Which brings me to why I called you here. :: She gestured towards the large screen at the center of the room, where a course towards the Mother Road was being displayed just shy of Antor. :: Blake: I'm actually following two suspects from a pirate attack back on Shadow's Edge that slipped through the Edge's border security. They were headed towards Antor, but no Marshal outpost in the area found the vessel I was tracking - not that they've reported, at least. It's entirely possible that they jumped ship or headed in another direction, but . . . I don't know. :: Evan stepped towards the screen and away from his working console. :: Delano: I’m not surprised you’ve lost them. Everything’s so slow out here - same reason we can’t get a solid lead on Jilor. :: He turned to her and raised an inquisitive eyebrow - a Vulcan mannerism he’d picked up during his time on Seheik. :: Delano: Are you looking for my input? Blake: Well, next to the general staff, you're most experienced here in the Shoals - I was hoping I could borrow your insight. The survivor of the attack wasn't willing to divulge his smuggler routes, and I can't figure out where supposedly pirate killers would run off to towards the Mother Road. The only place of importance I can think of is Outpost 3, but the place is a wreck right now. It's of no use to any outlaw faction in its current state. Delano: Hm. :: Evan crossed his arms over his chest as he examined the sectors displayed on screen as Sky stepped back just a bit, out of his way. There really wasn’t much to see. :: Delano: Well, I know there’s at least one class-M world between Antor and Shadow’s Edge if you decide to fly direct and avoid the Mother Road. I can’t remember the name of the system… Blake: You're suggesting they're not concerned with travel times. :: The display shifted to show the star system in question. It was a binary star system with 16 planets and several hundred smaller dwarf planets and asteroids. :: Delano: There it is. The Lucian system. ::More importantly, a star system she was unfamiliar with.:: Delano: As I recall, Starfleet made first contact with the natives about 30 years ago - a few months after the Lucians broke the warp barrier. We received a polite but cold reception. And, as far as I know, we’ve never been invited back. Rumor is that the Lucians are quite xenophobic. Blake: Tholians would get along with them well. ::She muttered.:: Could marshals at least find them? Delano: Well, if your pirates managed to get into the system without being detected, they’d have plenty of places to lie low. Proximity to the Shadows and the fact that Outpost 3 isn’t exactly up to spec would probably be an added bonus. Blake: Essentially hidden from view. ::She sighed.:: Delano: That’s my best guess. Of course, if I’m right, I’m not sure what you can do about it. The Federation doesn’t have a formal relationship with the Lucians, and any probe or starship we send into their system would almost certainly be seen as a threat. Blake: Even if I wanted to, we'd have to wait for confirmation from both the Coalition and the Diplomatic Corps for the go-ahead, and I don't see that happening. It's a waiting game from this point on. Delano: Sorry, Commander. Wish I had better news for you. Blake: No, this is good. I appreciate it. If I can coax some marshals at least *around* that area, they might be able to catch them for me. ::Her hand scrubbed at her cheek, taking a deeper breath.:: Also means I'll have to ask the guys on Outpost 3 to start sensor sweeps when they're able, lest they become a target once they're up and running again. ::Tristam Core was probably going to love that just as much as he will putting the small station back together from nothing with only a handful of Ketar V construction workers and a sole security officer working with him.:: Delano: That’s probably a good idea. After Antor, I’m not sure anything out here is safe. If we’re lucky, things will die down for a while, but I wouldn’t count on it. Blake:::shaking her head:: It's been a busy few months. But now that we're leaving what I call 'familiar territory', it's just going to get more hectic. We had a bad political rap when we arrived and started Operation Safe Harbor, let alone now, after what happened at Antor. Delano: Even among the Reya-Laialara, Starfleet’s reputation is… well, somewhat tarnished compared to the way it’s viewed through the rest of the Federation. :: He shrugged. :: Delano: It’s hard to blame them. Starfleet’s presence out here has been minimal for decades. A lot of people feel like they’ve been abandoned. And as hard as Veritas has been working to make things better, one ship seems like a token effort. :: The conversation died for a moment, and Evan looked up from the diagnostic results he’d been skimming to see Blake looking at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read. :: Blake: Lieutenant, I have a question that I've been pondering since the crew's change over. :: His eyebrow crept up before he could stop it. :: Delano: I’ll answer if I can. Blake: Why didn't Veritas know you were in the area? I know you ceased to report in, but . . . any resource in the area, we could have used. I'm not sure I understand why Federation Security kept you hidden from us. :: His expression tightened as he thought back to the double life he’d led for almost a year. Disgraced Starfleet officer looking to find some kind of emotional balance between his Vulcan and human halves. And, a Federation Security agent, secretly spying and reporting on an insular, allusive, possibly dangerous religious sect operating in one of the most inaccessible parts of the quadrant. In the end, his conscience had got the better of him and he'd made the decision to stop spying, joining the Reya-Laialara in his heart months after he'd joined them through words. He'd only reestablished contact with the Federation when one of the Shadow's Edge pirate factions stole a cargo bay full of photon torpedoes. :: Delano: Honestly, I don’t know. Though I have my suspicions. :: Evan had his suspicions about most things. Whether intuition or subconscious deduction, he couldn't say. Nor could he say how many of these thoughts were accurate. :: ::She frowned a little.:: Blake: If you don't mind my prying . . . ? Delano: It might have been a matter of jurisdiction. Federation Security operates independently of Starfleet, maybe they didn’t want Veritas involved. Or maybe it was just a security thing - keeping the people who knew about my assignment to a minimum. ::beat:: Captain Carrero might have known. Blake: Possibly. ::If Carrero had known, the likelihood was that she'd at least inform Zhou - the crew had to separate on numerous occasions to get the job done. It wasn't necessarily a tactic Rahman employed today, nor would Sky recommend employing it after Carrero's death, but the assurance was everyone (or, at least, the command pair) was in the know of all that was happening in the area. ::Zhou had been clueless about Delano being in the Shoals, to the point where Tai had even attempted to press her for information about Delano to either set his mind at ease or to fuel the growing irritation at a flawed system. ::It had been easy for Sky to compare Delano to herself, if only in certain areas. And though she had absolutely no right to pry or question Rahman's confidence in Delano, or Delano's relationship with the ship's XO, that Mei'konda seemed comfortable and confident around the Vulcan had been enough to set Sky's mind at ease. She'd spent much of her time on Ornara operating under the idea that one's relationships with others primarily defined their personalities and capabilities - this assumption hadn't failed her yet.:: :: Evan rubbed the back of his neck, feeling somewhat awkward at bringing up the late captain. He knew a number of her former crew were still sensitive about her murder. :: Delano: My only other guess is that maybe there was some kind of political element. In my initial briefing, I got the impression that the assignment was being made at the request of someone from the Vulcan delegation to the Federation Council, though it was never expressly stated. ((Flashback)) Blake: You never explained to me how you perceive emotion. ::Liquid brown eyes glanced at her as he set Ayden down, lingering briefly on the baby before turning to her fully. It was a strange question of hers, of which, up to this point, had remained unanswered despite their relationship. She allowed herself to be gently led out, returning to the lounge with the man.:: Sabor: I'm not sure I understand the query. Blake: Vulcans are logical, yes? ::He coughed, covering what would likely have been a smirk at the child-like question.:: Sabor: All humanoids are capable of logic, that is correct. Blake: Including the V'tosh ka'tur? ::There was a split second where Sabor hesitated, his eyes considerably sharper as they gazed upon her and his hand stilling in it's place around a glass, before he recomposed himself. There was recognition in the name, that Sky could feel, and though usually allowed her a certain amount of access to his psyche, for that brief moment, she'd been cut off from him entirely. ::Was this Sabor's display of fear?:: Sabor: You've been reading. Blake: I'm sorry if it's- Sabor: It's fine. But I can't claim to know the inner workings of their . . . "understandings". I personally don't see logic as a choice one can make. For example, logic dictates one shouldn't put their hand under boiling water. Does that mean a Vulcan of the V'tosh ka'tur would burn themselves under such water to defy logic? Blake: Isn't that more 'self-preservation' then 'logic'? Sabor: One might argue that self-preservation could be considered rudimentary logic that requires little to no understanding to implement. ::She could tell now that this particular debate would only go round in circles until one of them gave up. Probably her.:: Blake: So why do Vulcans insist that emotions are *not* logical if all humanoids feel, and are capable of logic. Sabor: Emotions cannot be *explained* by logic. That doesn't mean that emotions are not logical. ::The corners of Sky's lips perked up.:: Blake: Is this a personal belief, or one shared by all Vulcans. Sabor:::after a heavy breath:: I support the notion that all Vulcans may have their own philosophy not shared by others - which, unfortunately, is not a sentiment one will find among regular temple-goers. But there was a time where mind-melds were considered taboo and were suppressed by a single group. This . . . may be the case today regarding logic. Blake: So Vulcans are susceptible to minority suppression. ::He eyed her with a minor frown, handing her a glass of water.:: Sabor: Drink. ::Ah, so *this* is where the conversation would end - at the notion that his people's society wasn't perfect. Sky smiled, accepting the glass and watching him fondly as he walked away to check on Faith.:: Blake: I feel like I'm being suppressed! ::She called after him with a sarcastic tone.:: Sabor: If I ever attempt to suppress you, my wife, you'll know. ((End flashback)) ::Her first interaction with a Vulcan since waking up had been with her bondmate, whom held his own beliefs and felt comfortable expressing them whilst not in the purview of other Vulcans. The second he did so, he would have been held under scrutiny of his peers. ::That a Vulcan delegation may have asked for Federation Security to spy on other Vulcans put the part of Sky that still held Sabor's mentality close on edge.:: Blake:::muttering:: Minority suppression. :: The commander’s eyes looked unfocused for a moment, as if she were deep in thought or memory. :: Delano: What was that, Commander? :: The woman’s normally sharp expression came back into view as she leaned against the console and crossed her arms. :: Blake: Sorry - it was a . . . debate I once tried to have. ::She paused.:: Is it wrong of me to ask what they were hoping you'd find? Delano: I don’t mind sharing what I know. :: beat :: Why do you ask? Blake:::nodding:: Well, historically, 'majority' Vulcans meddling in a separated factions affairs isn't usually taken very well. Forgive the conspiracy theory. :: Evan nodded his agreement. :: Delano: When I went in, I don’t think most in the Federation knew much at all about the Reya-Laialara. They did know about the Romulans that were associated with them, however, and I suspect that’s what they were most concerned about. Some kind of subversive activity - either by the group as a whole, or just the refugees that have settled in Seheik. :: He shrugged. :: Every time I sent in a report, the messages I got back asked for more details about the infrastructure. What kind of weapons did they use? Did they have any ships? How was the settlement defended? They didn’t seem willing to accept that the Reya-Laialara really are pacifists. I thought they were being unreasonable, but… well, there was Lenik. ::There was a moment of quiet between them, marked by the steady thrumming of the ship’s warp core and the occasional beep from one of the consoles.:: Blake: Just means I'll add it to the list of things we have to worry about later, anyway. For now, pirates are the priority. If political unrest happens, then hopefully the diplomatic corps are prepared for that kind of challenge. Delano: I hope so too. I’m not sure how much more ‘unrest’ the Coalition can handle right now. If Jilor wants an independent Shoals, I’m starting to believe he’s closer to that goal than most of us have thought. Blake:::with a smirk:: Is that your formal assessment? :: Evan shook his head and offered a thin smile. :: Delano: Just a hunch, Commander. ::Silence fell once again, Sky turning back to the display.:: ::He had planned to leave it there, but as another nearly awkward quiet passed between them, Evan felt the impulse to press on and explain.:: Delano: A few kilometers from my father’s house on Vulcan, there is a large field of narrow standing rock formations. On top of many of these columns are boulders that have remained perfectly balanced for thousands, perhaps millions of years. And yet, each year blowing winds or shifting sands manage to cause just enough change to disrupt the balance, causing a few of these rocks to fall. When we’d go walking through that area, I used to get this horrible anxiety if I spent too long staring up at one of those pillars - convinced that the massive stones on top could fall at any moment and crush me. Lately, the feeling I get about the Shoals is almost the same. ::A shot of adrenaline flew through her system, just from his imagery. But when she met his eyes again, his smile returned, still weak but with a hint of genuine humor behind it. :: Delano: I didn’t mean to get all doom-and-gloom on you, Commander. Blake: You wouldn't be the first one to try it around here. But paranoia won't keep us warm at night, Delano. Delano: The only point is that I think we’re standing on dangerous ground. I’d say that we need to be careful, but in this case, that would be stating the obvious. Of course, there's also a chance that being too careful is just as dangerous as being reckless. Blake:::she sighed.:: Starfleet can't add more officers into the area without hurting their resources and their political stance with the Marshals, but they can't pull us out because the Coalition will throw the argument that they're being ignored around. It's bad enough we're being pulled in five different political directions - first by Shadow's Edge, now by Antor. ::And Antor had been far more damaging than the young governor of Shadow's Edge. When they'd entered the Shoals, the reception had been icy because until they'd started shouting at the top of their lungs, Starfleet hadn't ever lingered around the area before - and some of the locals were getting concerned that, despite having asked for Starfleet to be there, they were stepping on toes. They weren't wanted because the locals had wanted to do this for themselves. ::Now, they weren't wanted because they were causing threats. From pirates, of all players.:: Delano: I'm starting to wonder if this is just what living in the Shoals is like once you've been here long enough. Blake: We've been here long enough. I'm not getting used to it yet. === Lieutenant Evan Delano Operations Officer USS Veritas & Lt. Commander Sky Blake Ranger USS Veritas