[Lt Vance Sheridan, "A difficult patient"]

((USS Einstein, Counsellor's Office, Stardate 239109.15))

::One month. These appointments had been going on for one month. Vance was friendly and optimistic and he could get on with anyone, but he was finding Ensign Kellan Joran to be impenetrable. He'd tried talking. He'd tried not talking. He'd tried adjusting the lighting and temperature in the office to make it seem brighter and more welcoming, or to seem less formal and more relaxing. Whatever he did, he was met with the same impassive expression, and he was running out of ideas.::

::Reading through Kellan's files hadn't helped, either. There was precious little information for anything prior to his service aboard the USS Vigilant. It looked like he'd led a relatively mundane life, and then been placed there as his first assignment from the academy. There was a perturbing entry about some kind of an alien social experiment on his file, in which the unfortunate Ensign had been unconsentingly assigned the role of a patient in a mental asylum, and that was worrying. The record read like a storybook as much as anything else and it looked like Kellan's therapy had been signed off to various other members of the crew rather than to one specific counsellor. Chances were extremely high that his current catatonic state was related to that incident, but he had been serving without problems for months before it had happened. Trauma could take a long while to surface, of course, so perhaps the Bajoran's failure to turn up for his shift for a full day and his violent reaction when medical staff had entered his quarters to check on him weren't so difficult to explain after all.::

::Mentioning 'Ravensville', the name assigned to the alien experiment, had been the only real mistake Vance had made. Kellan had become anxious and had started to pace around the room, wide-eyed. When the Bajoran had headed for the door, Vance hadn't stopped him, and he'd quickly been picked up by the non-commissioned officers who waited outside during each of his appointments. The medic had administered a hypospray and Kellan had been taken back to his quarters, otherwise unharmed. Yet despite that, it was Vance's hope that he would be able to assist the stricken officer in returning to duty. There had to be a way through.::

::And so he'd decided to pick one tactic and stick with it. Kellan had been the subject in an experiment, and his confidence had been completely undermined. The word 'humiliation' was insufficient to cover what had happened. It looked very much like he had been robbed of his humanity. Treating him like a normal person rather than a patient seemed like the best way to go and when the breakthrough was made, Vance was just going to have to find a way to sneak in some treatment under the radar. He would have to think on his feet, and be very careful in the process. He had to earn Kellan's trust, and then show him that he wasn't going to break it.::

::This time when Kellan was brought to the counselling office, Vance was wearing casual attire. White slash neck t-shirt, covered with a dark blue cotton jacket, and a pair of comfortable black pants. He was sat on one end of the office sofa with a mug of Tarkelian tea in his hand, just as he would in his own quarters. There were no PADDs in view; everything was filed away, and even the terminal on the desk was deactivated. When he entered, Kellan almost seemed to stop in his stride for just a moment, a little suspicious of what was happening. His face quickly regained the impassive look that Vance was used to seeing, though, and the young officer took up his usual position on the other end of the sofa.::

Vance: Hey, Kellan. I figured you could maybe use a break from all the uniforms and regulations for a while, so I decided we should just hang out instead of having a formal session. Let me get you a cup of tea as well, unless there's something else you'd rather have?

::Nothing.::

::Undeterred, Vance walked to the replicator, ordered some more tea, and then carried it over to the table next to Kellan's seat. He took care not to step too close to him so that his personal bubble was left intact.::

Vance: ::Returning to his own seat:: I know you haven't really felt like talking lately, so I thought I'd maybe try just talking to you. It must get lonely being cooped up in your quarters for so long. I know I wouldn't like that very much.

::Still nothing.::

::Having spent part of the afternoon considering ways he could fill potential silences, Vance launched right into the one that he thought might give him the best shot at making some headway. When it came down to it, Kellan had only been aboard the ship for a very short amount of time, and his breakdown had happened within a couple of days of his arrival. That meant he hadn't had any time to get to know Vance, and he really had no reason to trust him. For most officers, a Starfleet uniform would be enough, but it was clear that Kellan didn't fall into the 'most officers' category.::

Vance: I wanted to tell you a few things about me. I've been trying to get you to talk about yourself, and it seems pretty unfair that you should have to do that without even really knowing who I am. You know me as Counsellor Sheridan, but my name is Vance, and I was born on Earth. My uncle inspired me to join Starfleet with stories about my grandfather. I've been serving with the fleet for three years now, and I started with an internship at Starfleet Headquarters. I loved it there. The town I was born in gets pretty cold over the winter and is sometimes not much better in the summer, so being in San Francisco was great. After four years in the academy and the internship, I had to put on a second coat when I went back to visit my folks.

::He paused for a moment, in case memories of San Francisco stirred anything in his Bajoran patient. They didn't.::

Vance: I haven't been outside the Sol sector yet on duty, but I've had the chance to talk to members of quite a few different species already. Sometimes I feel like we should get a big checklist, so we can try to collect as many as possible and broaden our horizons. It's great hearing the different viewpoints of members of species you've never met before, and finding out the things that you do and don't have in common with them. In fact, just talking to anyone is fun. You get to hear their stories about where they've been and what they've done. It really brings Starfleet to life...

::He carried on just talking at Kellan about inocuous things like food, music, art, sports, his family back in Whitehorse and those who had travelled, and even brought up some of his school memories. Nothing seemed to be working, but he was determined to keep trying. If he had to spend another month or two at the drawing board before he came up with something then that was what he would do. In the end, a soft chime from the computer on his desk informed him that the appointment was over. The Bajoran would be coming back in a few days to fill his quota of two therapy sessions per week, so cutting his losses didn't seem like such a bad idea. There was something that he wanted Kellan to take away with him before next time, though.::

Vance: Looks like we're done for this week, but I'll be looking forward to our next meeting. I think it's going to turn out that we've both got things in common. We were probably both at the academy at the same time, or at least we seem to be not too far off the same age, so I get the impression we could turn out to be good friends.

::At the mention of that word, Kellan's eyes flicked towards Vance. They stayed on him for a good few seconds, before fixing themselves back on the office floor.::

Vance: oO Interesting... Oo

::It seemed that he'd finally got his in. Pretending to be friends with Kellan wouldn't necessarily do any good in the long run, but trying to make friends with him? Maybe that would work. Maybe this particular patient needed to feel as though there were people who cared about his welfare other than those who had to because it was their duty? As the doors opened and the non-coms arrived to take Kellan back to his quarters, Vance was already thinking about his next move. With a little luck, it wouldn't take another month to get through the next layer of armour.::

TBC

Lieutenant Vance Sheridan

Chief Counsellor

Starbase 118 Ops

[MSNPC Alstred - Dreams]

((StarBase 118 - Security detention center))

Taree: Rhiaandrus…. thank you.

:: The girl stared into the his eyes and suddenly the world of pain went away. His mind went back to his homeworld. His homeworld before it was torn apart by riot and radiation and war. His homeworld where they used to sit under the cokaberry trees after all the chores were done, eating the berries until their tongues and lips were stained a deep purple. His sister Vorna would keep the pits of the biggest cokaberries and carve them into tiny tops. It was always a game to see which one would spin the longest.::

Alstred: Thank you. ::he murmured back, his gaze was a million miles away::

Taree: Bye bye.

Alstred: Jolan tru ::Murmured dreamily::

::He looked around, gazing into the eyes of his sister. She looked older, and somewhat confused to be sitting under the [...]aberry trees::

Vorna: Rhansu! Where are we?

Alstred: Rhiaandrus. ::he smiled, looking around:: oO We're back home on Rhiaandrus.Oo

Vorna: This is my favorite tree. ::She smiled, looking upwards:: I thought it burned down.

Alstred: oO It will never burn down again. We can stay here forever.Oo

Vorna: I'd like that. ::She moved over to him, snuggling up by his side:: This place is beautiful. I love the springtime blooms, but late summer is the best.

Alstred: ::Repeated, dream-like, softer:: Rhiaandrus... ::He closed his eyes looking ever so peaceful, daydreaming - or perhaps napping::

Vorna: ::Playfully:: I thought you never liked it here. You were the one who always wanted to head out and see the galaxy. Go somewhere bigger like Voralis Beta or Romais VII.

Alstred: oO I never knew what I loved until it was gone. Oo

Vorna: ::She lay a comforting hand on his cheek:: Well, I'm not gone anymore. We can stay here for as long as you like.

Alstred: ::plaintive:: Forever?

Vorna: ::Smiling:: Forever.

Alstred: oO What about the voices I hear? Oo

Vorna: ::Soothing, she brushed his hair back away from his face:: You've just been through trauma. Your mind is playing tricks on you. The voices will go away soon enough.

Alstred: oO Good. I don't like them. I want to stay here with you. Oo

Vorna: ::Smiling:: Then stay here with me. ::She drew him into her arms and hugged him warmly:: I'd like that.

Alstred: I'd like that, too.

Vorna: ::She reached up, plucking a cokaberry from the tree:: Are you hungry, would you like a berry?

Alstred: ::ponderous:: oO Maybe later. I'm not very hungry. But I'm tired. I'm so tired. Oo

Vorna: ::She patted the ground next to her:: Then come and lay down for a little bit. You've been through so much. A nap would do you good.

Alstred: So tired. ::he slowly ambled off his chair and lay down on the ground, a faint smile growing across his features::

Vorna: ::Stroking his shoulder with sisterly affection:: I missed you so much, Rhiandrus.

Alstred: I missed you too... ::He smiled as he closed his eyes.::

~*~

tbc

~*~

MSNPC Ry'Van Alstred

Terrorist and Prisoner

Simmed by: Sal Taybrim

[SB118 Ops: Quotations of the Week!]

Richard Matthews:

::Closing the com link, Richard busied himself making those last minute preparations that always seemed to pop up when someone thought they were done. He didn't have much time before he was expected else ware. Unless Leo was overseeing the ceremony Taybrim was attending. Then the speeches alone might buy him hours of time.::

::If the Captain ever devised a way to read Richard's thoughts, he'd be hung.::


I don't drone on that much, do I?

[SB118 Ops: Quotations of the Week!]

Heehee

[Rest In Peace: Leonard Nimoy]

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-31662024

[Ensign Lucien Landau - Alone In Myself, Part 1]

((Cell 5 Observation Room, Security Hub - Starbase 118))

::Lucien watched attentively as Toral, Tiam and the captain questioned the captive. Whoever did the man's makeup deserved an award, he looked every bit arkarian on the surface. He seemed despondant and unco-operative. Landau wasn't surprised; the man's home had died, and he'd seen enough war between his people and the Federation to last a lifetime - even a Romulan one. Now there he was, being questioned and trialed for killing four people. Luc found himself empathising with the prisoner; four people really wasn't a huge amount, in the grand scheme of things. But still, he hadn't killed them in a warzone or in ship-to-ship combat. They weren't the unfortunate price of war. They were murdered, in cold blood. Even the most hardened cynic had to agree that there was a difference.::

~~ What do you think will happen to him? ~~

oO He'll be tried, it won't take long to find him guilty. If he's unlucky, he might get as far as the prison before he finds a way to end himself. Oo

~~ You think he's a you'll-never-take-me-alive type? ~~

oO If course he is. Not only is he a romulan, but according to the reports he literally said as much before his little stunt with the fire suppressors. Oo

~~ True enough. Think you'd do that, if you got caught? ~~

::Landau was taken aback by the question.::

oO I wouldn't *get* caught. Oo ::He smirked inwardly, but that didn't play so well when the questioner was inside his own head.::

~~ Come on, you know that facade stuff isn't going to work with me. The only reason I know you're smirking is because I know you told your muscles to do it. You forget that I also know why. ~~

::It was a fair enough accusation. Sometimes he did forget. Ja-Shen felt so real that he often found himself vocalising his side of the conversation. It was still quite a staggering feat that he'd never been caught actually talking to himself out loud. There was one time a subordinate tactical officer had come close on the Indy, but the content of his outburst was easy enough to pass off as a yell of frustration. Most of it was unrepeatable to minors. He felt the voice inside him smile at him. It was an unsettling feeling.::

~~ I always did know how to get under your skin, Lu-Shen. ~~

oO To be fair, you have the advantage that you begin there already, biologically speaking. But you forget that I can give as good as I get. Oo

~~ Oh, really? ~~

::Lucien smiled, outwardly this time. He let his brother stew for a while and watched as the interrogation unfolded before him. It wasn't much of a spectacle, so far. Fairly mild questioning - it didn't help that Tiam was agreeing with the suspect half the time and telling him how terrible and useless the Federation had been to her people. He began to wonder if this was a tactic, or just genuine frustration.::

~~ She's right, isn't she? The Federation look after their own... when it's convenient. ~~

oO They've looked after us well enough, and miradorn aren't exactly first on the invitation list at all the cool parties. Oo

~~ They've looked after *you*. Because you've been useful to them. What have they done for father? ~~

oO He lives well enough here. Oo

~~ He EXISTS here. You wouldn't know the differene, I suppose. Always were our mother's boy. Father wasn't always a bitter, cynical shell you know. There was a time he was alive. A time he fought for what he believed in. ~~

::Lucien scowled, suddenly tiring of this exchange. He stewed over possible responses in his mind, before selecting a few choice ones and loading them into his mental mortar one by one. First salvo, fire!::

oO He got people *killed* for what he believed in. Half of those people didn't even believe in it themselves. He got *you* killed for what *he* believed in. You weren't even old enough to know what that was! Oo

::The constant pressure of his brother's presence in his mind lifted slightly, as if recoiling. Then it hit back, a thousand-fold.::

~~ I was old enough to know it was right! You wouldn't know, you never went on any raids. You stayed at home being coddled by mother. You were never a true miradorn. If you were, you wouldn't be sat in here watching. You'd be in there, stringing that Romulan frakker up by his 'nads and *bleeding* the information out of him. If you were a true miradorn, you'd be ashamed to wear that uniform. You don't even know how shamed father felt when he sat in that plush Federation embassy and filled in endless forms for asylum and settlement. To protect *you*. And how did you repay him? ~~

::Lucien inhaled, slowly, then exhaled. He wouldn't be beaten by his own concience. At moments like this it was easy to believe that his brother was dead. Easy to believe that nothing that happened here was real. His brain was overcompensating for the loss he felt. Making up a personality to fill in the gap. His brother was dead. This wasn't real. But even so, he couldn't help the slight welling-up in his eyes. The involuntary clenching of his fists.::

oO He's proud of me. He says so often. Oo

~~ He *tells* you often. People *tell* you a lot of things. Telling people things is easy. Has he ever *shown* you? ~~

::Lucien fell silent again, concentrating on his breathing. Without a word, he loaded the next verbal shell into his metaphorical mortar.::

oO You know the real reason I never avenged your death, brother? ::He waited briefly for a response, but the question was rhetorical.:: I didn't care enough. Oo

::This wasn't remotely true. And he'd forgotten that, sharing his brain as it does, his brother's conciousness would know this as much as Lucien did. The shell missed by miles.::

~~ You'll have to do better than that. I was there, remember? I know these things. But please, continue to avoid the real issues here if they get too difficult. ~~

::Another brief pause, while Landau mentally regrouped and loaded the proverbial silver bullet. The one he knew would always work, time and time again.::

oO What would you *do* with this body, Ja-Shen? If you could have it all to yourself? If you could operate the fingers and toes, the eyes and nose? Steal a ship and go raiding? Take father along for the ride as he used to take you? Like a "real" miradorn? Oo

::Lucien laughed. He wasn't sure if he'd vocalised it or not, but didn't particularly care. The room was soundproof. The interrogation carried on outside at a leisurely pace.::

oO I don't suppose it matters, really. You'll never get the chance now, will you? Oo


TBC!

--------------------------------
Ensign Lucien Landau
Security Officer
Starbase 118

[Lieutenant Kaitlyn Falcon - The Nickel Tour]

(( Docking Port; U.S.S. Albion ))

::After ensuring that her clearances were accepted, and after a long walk along the gangway, Kaitlyn arrived at Albion’s airlock.::

::Albion was a strikingly beautiful ship. As an Excelsior-refit, she was one of the few ships in Starfleet with a hull color other than battleship grey, sporting white with turquoise trim. Her engineering hull projections hinted at space for additional equipment, and her additional pair of impulse drives and beefed up warp nacelles gave Kaitlyn the hope that she’d have better agility than most older starships.::

::Kaitlyn knew that one could do a lot with an older design. Her father had led a team conducting extensive refits of the U.S.S. Yorktown and U.S.S. Lexington, both 23^rd Century vintage Mk3 Constitutions-class. The result was a pair of ships with classic styling and capabilities on par with an Intrepid. Not bad, all things considered.::

::The airlock door opened as Kaitlyn approached, an older looking human man in a yellow accented uniform waiting to greet her. He extended his hand, his voice sounding both gruff and respectful.::

Jemeth: Welcome aboard, Ma’am. I’m Master Chief Jemeth, Engineering Department Master Chief.

::Kaitlyn took his hand and shook it.::

Falcon: Pleased to meet you, Master Chief.

::Jemeth gave a small wave-off.::

Jemeth: Just call me ‘EDMC’. It’s faster. Anyway, you ready for the grand tour?

::Kaitlyn smirked, but nodded as she followed through the inner airlock door. Both doors slid shut behind them.::

Falcon: No random ensigns around to task?

Jemeth: They’d probably get you lost. ::Smirks back.:: Nah, I recognized the name.

::Kaitlyn paused a moment, checking her brain to see if she’d missed something. Jemeth… Jemeth… Where might she had heard that before? She took a guess.::

Falcon: Served with my sister?

::That gave her about a fifty-fifty shot at being right. After all, of the four members of her immediate family who were in Starfleet, two of them were her sisters.::

Jemeth: ::Nods.:: That’s right, Ma’am, back when she was CHENG around here. After she transferred, I ended up getting assigned to Albion’s refit, and stuck around on the old girl once we were done.

::Jemeth led the way into a nearby turbolift, Kaitlyn following closely.::

Jemeth: Bridge. ::Looking to Kaitlyn.:: Not sure if you had the time to check every nook and cranny, so I figured I’d show you the highlights.

::Kaitlyn nodded. Much as she’d love to crawl around the place, she knew she probably shouldn’t lose herself to it.::

Falcon: Sounds like a plan to me. I’ll get around everywhere soon enough.

::The ‘lift soon deposited them on the bridge, Jemeth grabbing a PADD off a nearby console as they passed. He shook his head.::

Jemeth: I’ve gotta have a word with the duty section about leaving their stuff lying around… Still, convenient for us. ::Taps out a series of commands, then holds it out to Kaitlyn.:: Here. The inspection results you requested.

::Kaitlyn accepted the PADD with a smile, her face then snapping into ‘business mode’ as she reviewed the data. It was just like reviewing a shipping manifest back in the day.::

::As she read, Jemeth continued.::

Jemeth: The last refit took her back to stock, mostly, at least. She started life as one of the Enterprise-B variants, then got a host of upgrades for the Dominion War before Intel got their hands on her.

::Kaitlyn nodded. Hull, engine, and shield upgrades were in line for that. Torpedo capacity was decent. Albion didn’t have the newer burst or pulse fire launchers, but they’d get the job done. Phaser capacity looked good, putting her on par with an older Galaxy-class. Made sense for the war.::

::Still, that ‘mostly’ caught her interest. Kaitlyn’s eyes shifted to look at him.::

Falcon: ‘Mostly’?

::Jemeth nodded.::

Jemeth: Yeah. As far as I’ve been able to figure out, they couldn’t remove all of the tech the Intel spooks stuffed into this ship. Either that, or they wanted to keep it available in case they ever needed to take her back again. A lot of it was ‘retired-in-place’, just pulled all the connections from the ship and erased the info on how to operate it from the ship’s computer.

Falcon: Wouldn’t it all stand out?

Jemeth: Not if they build it into other equipment that’s still running. ::More quiet.:: I’ve spotted a few grav generators with empty computer connection ports on them. When have you ever seen a grav generator with an expansion slot?

::Kaitlyn gave a slight shake of her head.::

Falcon: Never…

Jemeth: Exactly. Now, I have no idea what might be here, and I’m nowhere near curious enough to start poking around to find out, but I figure someone on board ought to know besides me. ::Normal volume.:: So, shall we continue?

::Kaitlyn nodded again, Jemeth moving further into the bridge as he started presenting the various control stations for her inspection.::

::Albion… Strikingly beautiful, with some equally striking secrets hidden within. Kaitlyn wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it, truth be told, but she knew two things for certain.::

::One, she needed to tell Leo about this ASAP.::

::Two, she would have to be VERY careful about what she touched…::

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Lieutenant Kaitlyn Falcon

Chief Helm Officer

Starbase 118 / USS Albion

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

[MSNPC Alstred - Not So Peaceful Sleep]

((Maximum Security Holding – Brig – Starbase 118))

::With the argon pumped from his system, Ry’Van Alstred was ungraciously dumped in a high security holding cell. Starfleet had taken all they needed to take. They stripped him of his signal enhancer vest, taken complete medical scans as well as blood samples – which quickly affirmed that he was not, in fact, Arkarian as his identification card and merchant’s permit indicated.

Problematically the ID card and merchant’s permit were quite valid and had been entered some seven years ago. That begged the question: where was the real Ry’van Alstred, and who was this man?

Considering his nasty attacks on the crew of StarBase 118, the answer to the first question looked pretty bleak.

The blood sample quickly turned up a discouraging truth. Whoever this was, they were Romulan. However Romulans were not much in the habit of sharing their DNA records with the Federation, and whoever this man was he was not in any Federation databases or anything shared from the Romulan Star Empire. Ending up in one big ‘John Doe’ or more precisely ‘Not-Ry’van-Alstred-Doe’

For the guards stationed outside his holding cell, he was an uninteresting prisoner to watch.

They were pretty sure he was awake, or at least had been awake for a portion of the time. And yet he hadn’t moved from the spot where he was dumped on a cot some hours ago. He seemed to be glaring at the wall with an unhidden fury and loathing towards anything that wasn’t part of his tiny worldview.

Which was, in fact, quite true. Alstred had little regard for anything outside the culture he decided to so fiercely defend. He hadn’t always been that way, but he was quite literally a man with nothing left to lose save his own life. And considering he had buried his entire family and watch the colony he lived in fall to ruin, death was sounding more like a pleasant reunion with lost loved ones rather than an event to fear.

And yet, somewhere in his mind, a warped patriotism mingled with the ingrained vicious emotions of his people and his heart embraced a dark desire to bring down as many Federation citizens as he possibly could before he took that blissful release.

So when he opened his eyes to see the harsh sterile glare of a Federation security bulkhead, he felt a deeply depressing fog come over him. If he survived, they had survived, too. So no blissful release and his mission had not been as fruitful as he had hoped.

Still, he wouldn’t give them the pleasure of seeing him grovel. In fact he was more than content to sit and stare at the wall, fading in and out of the heady haze of aching semi-consciousness, taking tiny nuggets of bitter enjoyment from listening to the security guards wonder if he was asleep or not. Alive or not. Listening or not.

He was already concocting a grand lie to tell the Federation if they questioned him. He didn’t like being a rat in a cage, but if he was pressed, he would tell them a tale that would make their heads spin. Alstred knew he was but one small part of a much bigger scheme, one that would move against the Federation again. And again. And again.

He didn’t fear death or incarceration. He had already lived through hell. Now he just had to suffer through indignity. It was a small price to pay to be able to watch the Federation crumble from the inside.

Ry’van Alstred closed his eyes and once again fell back into a listless sleep.::

~*~

MSNPC Ry’van Alstred (Rhansu Lloran)

Arkarian Merchant (Romulan Terrorist)

Simmed by: Sal Taybrim

[Ensign Ellen Cain, "The end of one journey is only the start of so]

Ensign Ellen Cain, "The end of one journey is only the start of something else"

((Temple Complex, Ceti Gamma Seven))

Reia: ::Not bothering to hide edge of tiredness and irritation in her voice.:: Seriously, what are we doing here?

Hartwell: Assisting Commander Herodion and Lieutenant Commander Becks in determining what happened to the people that once lived on this planet.

:: Cadet Vance Hartwell, a human male, sounded equally annoyed Cadet Ellen Cain thought. Ellen suspected that Vance’s annoyance came from the fact that he actually enjoyed the work at hand, but was constantly being disturbed by Reia. Ellen on the other hand was enjoying the change of pace that this mission was bringing. So far nothing had exploded or attempted to murder Ellen which was another nice bonus. ::

:: Ellen also appreciated the mission as it gave a glimpse at an aspect of Star Fleet that was easy to overlook as a cadet, which was discovery and exploration. While clearly boring to the security cadet, it wasn’t something that Reia Trev would see while polishing phasers in a starbase armory or watching security monitors. Even being close to becoming a fully fledged science officer, Ellen doubted that Vance Hartwell got to do anything more than the most basic of lab duties. That probably explained why he looked like he was about to murder Reia if she didn’t stop bugging him. Ellen for her part however had seen plenty of action and excitement while serving as Commander Melitta Herodion’s yeoman even if she didn’t advertise the fact much. That didn’t mean that she was less eager to prove herself, just that after recent events she was slightly more cautious in the way she did it.::

::Caution, while a good lesson to have learned, didn’t seem all that necessary so far in this particular mission Ellen had discovered with a degree of relief. The three cadets had spent the better part of a week performing seemingly mundane tasks in the most trivial of locales. The planet that they were on was similarly uninteresting being a standard M-class planet. In fact the only thing of note on the planet was extensive ruins, long since picked clean of treasures, which indicated a warp capable species once lived there centuries beforehand.::

::The temple complex that the cadets had been working in was in much the same condition as the rest of the ruins on the planet. Plundered by pirates or scavengers a long time ago, overgrown by local flora but remarkably intact. While the trio proceeded with holo-imaging every inch of the temples, translating and making notes on the various murals and wall carvings, in addition to quantum dating points of interest the three cadets were beginning to find it hard not to notice the absence of their two senior officers. Not to mention the sheer boredom of the work. Reia, the seemingly trigger happy Bajoran security cadet, in particular was most vocal about such things. ::

::While probably not among the oldest temples on the planet Ellen used the abundance of time that she had at hand to take in the beauty of the temples, which was to say nothing of the history that the temple murals and wall carvings depicted. Even after you separated historical facts from religious doctrine, there was much to learn. A set of temples might not speak to why an entire civilization vanished from the face of the planet but it did go to great lengths to show the type of people that once occupied those hallowed grounds.::

::Returning her quantum dater to a pouch on her belt, right next to her phaser and tricorder, she reached down to pick up a water canteen as she walked toward Vance and Reia. The pair was at the temporary lab that they had been porting from temple to temple. The “Lab” consisted of a holographic projector connected to a pair of computers with a transmitter. The transmitter was there to ensure that they could stream everything to the Tarisa’s Jewel while they worked in the field. Vance was sitting at one of the computers translating text and making various notes. Reia on the other hand was downloading her holocam footage into the other computer, which then would map that footage onto a wire-frame model of the temple being projected by the holoprojector. Ultimately to call the setup a lab was even worse than saying that the Tarisa’s Jewel had a crew lounge. What couldn’t be argued with was the fact that the setup worked for the task at hand, no matter what you called it.::

Reia: ::Sighing:: What I wouldn’t give to see some sort of excitement!

Cain: I have seen the type of excitement that you crave. Trust me when I say that you get over it real fast, then things start dying.

::Ellen replied speaking more openly about her experiences from her last mission than she had since the trio arrived on that planet. Up until then it didn't seem right, clearly though the trio had bonded in some fashion during their time together.::

Reia: Don’t you think…? ::Reia started till she saw the look on Ellen’s face.:: Well even sitting in that runabout on our way back to the starbase would be preferable to another day of this.

Hartwell: There’s more to being in Star Fleet than simply shooting people and making things go boom. Anyway I like it here. Expand your horizons and you might enjoy it too.

Cain: oO Vance clearly knows Reia too well. I kind of wish I had the chance to spend more time with these guys. Oo

::That was good advice Ellen thought but at the same time thought better of voicing her agreement. Normally those little personality quirks and clashing opinions wouldn’t be a problem amongst the three cadets. In this instance though, the three of them were severely on edge induced by sheer boredom. In fact it seemed to Ellen that the whole scenario had been engineered to see how long it would take to push the three cadets over the edge. Such pressure tests weren’t uncommon back at the Academy but rather rare during her cadet cruise. Ellen wondered as she downloaded her quantum dating data, that if the mission was some sort of pressure test what the reason for it was?::

::As she waited for the data to download, Ellen unscrewed the cap off of her canteen than took a sip of the refreshing water. The three cadets had gotten into the habit of conserving the food and water that they carried with them. It was an additional measure to avoid having to take trips back to the Tarisa’s Jewel. Less time spent on the Jewel meant more time in the temples. And as a result the seemingly endless task would be completed sooner rather than later. Once done Ellen recapped the canteen resting it on the table before her.::

::Whether it was the lighting or maybe the angle of her head, the recreation of the temple on the holoprojector caught Ellen’s eye. In particular her attention had been grabbed by what looked like the start of a narrow passageway except the wire frame of that section of the temple was incomplete. Ellen knew that without a shadow of a doubt that something was amiss. Simply because the first thing that they had been doing when entering a new temple was to create a complete wire frame model of said temple. It was this model that the trio’s holocam footage was transposed onto. All three of them had been through the process enough times to know better than to make mistakes. Or maybe Ellen was less inclined to believe it was a mistake because she too, on some level, wanted some sort of excitement after all the time she had spent in those long abandoned temples.::

::Moving closer to the holoprojector Ellen studied the image more closely. The more closely she looked the more she thought that Reia was going to get her wish. As soon as she had run all the logical explanations for the error through her head and still coming up with nothing she alerted Vance and Reia. Vance was as thrilled with the discovery as Ellen was but even he had to concede that the trio could use a proper break. That break might as well be spent checking the discrepancy out. True to form, Reia was positively giddy with anticipation on the walk to the mysterious corridor. It was only after Vance confirmed that the corridor was real and led somewhere completely unexpected that Reia got her wits about her.::

::Having already scouted the rest of the temple the cadets were surprised to find that the corridor leads below the temple. Since it was the only passageway of its kind, something seemed off about it all to Ellen. The concealed nature of the corridor entrance was also a red flag. Walking slightly behind Reia, with her phaser in one hand and a flashlight in the other Ellen had to admit if only to herself that she was eager to see what was at the end of the corridor. Behind Ellen, Vance was trying to contact Commander Herodion on his comm. Badge without any success. In front of her, Reia was expertly navigating the corridor also with her weapon drawn.::

Hartwell: I can’t reach the Commanders on the comms. I think that the comms are being jammed. ::Sounding even less excited than he had earlier about the whole idea.:: I also am detecting a large energy spike coming from nearby.

Reia: ::Bluntly:: Caused by what?

::Ellen thought that Reia’s tone was remarkably similar to that of Commander Herodion’s at times. That wasn’t a bad thing as far as Ellen was concerned as the three were walking into the unknown. So having someone that could handle herself in a fight was a blessing. If anything Ellen was slightly curious if that tone of voice was something actually taught at the Academy or if Reia and Commander Herodion were two peas of the proverbial pod.

Although she was making a few assumptions, Ellen replied with what she thought to be the most likely scenario fitting the circumstances.::

Cain: Was probably triggered by the motion sensors hidden in the walls.

::The end of the corridor gave way to a stairwell. Unlike the temple the stairwell, and the corridor for that matter, was very plain in design. Clearly utility was of more importance. That in itself reinforced the mystery that had been stumbled upon. While the stairwell was constructed out of the same sturdy sandstone-like material as the rest of the temple, the staircase was made out of much more modern looking materials. In fact the metal used looked much like that used aboard Star Fleet ships specifically in its Jefferies tubes.

As both Vance and Reia saw the staircase they both turned to Ellen expectantly. Vance especially looked and sounded different, perhaps as if he was having fun in the moment. ::

Cain: Why are you both looking at me like that?

Hartwell: You’re the one with the field experience.

Cain: Yeah when it comes to ancient space stations and remote controlled super soldiers on killing sprees.

::Ellen shot back making light of her most recent mission with Commander Herodion. Although she might have made the joke she also knew that she was still far from desensitized to what happened. So much so that she had to mentally remind herself to stay in the moment.::

Reia: ::Smiling:: Yes, exactly.

::Ellen quickly thought about what had just been said and did her best to hide the resulting grin. When she had been aboard Deep Space Ten, the decrepit space station had been famous for being “delicate”. Almost as famous as it was for being old. And that didn’t start to factor in her vacations on the Renegade Trader, her parent’s former barely working cargo vessel, or her time with Commander Herodion. All in all an ancient staircase was nothing in comparison.::

Cain: ::Saying cautiously.:: Well lets proceed, One at a time perhaps.

::Reia took the lead as if it were the most natural thing to do. Once she had reached the first landing Ellen followed suit with Vance waiting on Ellen. The trio continued on in this fashion till they reached the bottom of the stairwell, almost twenty meters down from the starting point. Not surprisingly the stairwell gave way to a another access corridor. This one though was much shorter maybe ten meters in length with several doors on either side at odd intervals. Vance however pointed them toward a larger more ornate set of doors set ajar at the end of the corridor. Checking her own tricorder Ellen had to agree. That seemed to be the direction of the earlier energy spike.

Even by that point neither Vance nor Ellen were able to explain the energy spike despite the proximity. The sensor jamming still seemed to be in affect preventing them from scanning for lifeforms or anything else for that matter. As the three closed in on the set of doors Reia signaled Ellen and Vance for silence taking up position to burst through the door when the others were ready. At that point Ellen abandoned her tricorder, returning it to her belt, to replace it with her phaser. She felt unsettled. Signalling to Reia that she was ready. Reia pried the set of doors open just enough to squeeze through as quietly as possible .::

::Ellen followed closely behind into the dimly lit room. All in all this new room was no bigger than a star ship bridge and was rectangular in shape. On the wall opposite the doors that they had just came through was some sort of reflective glass material, probably looking out onto something below or the other side of another room but obscured because of the currently low lighting. Around the edges of the room Ellen could barely make out equipment crates and a pair of doors leading elsewhere but what was of more interesting was the person sitting in the middle of the room. The person appeared humanoid and possibly female but it was hard to tell due to only seeing the back of the being. Reia still extremely serious spoke up loudly and clearly.::

Reia: Hello, we are Star Fleet Cadets on a peaceful archeological mission. Could you please stand and identify yourself?

::The being didn't speak, the being didn't even move at Reia's announcement and request.::

Reia: We mean you no harm. ::She persisted:: I must warn you, we are armed and will defend ourselves if necessary.

::Still hearing no response, Vance spoke quietly to Reia and Ellen as if to discuss the situation.::

Hartwell: Perhaps the being can't hear you. From the temple murals I do suspect that the beings that once lived here were without the sense of sound.

Cain: Interesting but that isn't what's happening here. ::She said quickly and quietly, scanning the room again paying attention to the equipment crates.:: The original inhabitants are long gone you also said that earlier. Anyway those crates look to be of Laudean design, Commander Herodion's species.

::Reia didn't ask if Ellen was sure instead she barked at the being in a more commanding tone.::

Reia: Identify yourself now, stranger, or I will stun you.

::At those words the lights in the room flickered on, the lights were still pretty dull so no one was blinded by the sudden light. That said the room was illuminated extremely well for the poor quality lighting which enabled Ellen to see that she had been right about the crates. Seconds after she had come to that conclusion she heard a familiar voice laughing. The laughing was certainly new but it was unmistakeably the voice of Commander Melitta Herodion.::

Herodion: Trying to shoot your superior officer is rarely a good idea Cadet Reia and rest assured this is not the time to try your luck.

::Even though the Commander's words were very disarming, the woman raised to her feet and turned around with her hands partially raised. Once facing them she flicked the traditional dark brown Laudean desert robe she had been wearing to the floor revealing her normal Star Fleet uniform underneath.::

Herodion: ::More to herself than the three cadets in front of her.:: Next time I run this mission I will be sure to pick Ferangi crates. Clearly less obvious.

Reia: ::Holstering her weapon, sounding astounded.:: This was all some sort of test. ::She said still trying to wrap her head around it.::

Herodion: Well yes, but at the same time we did want those temples holo recorded for off world study. Killing multiple birds with the one stone and all that. ::Pausing for a moment.:: Now let me congratulate you all, with the conclusion of this "test" you have successfully completed your cadet cruise's. From this point forward you are all promoted to the rank of Ensign.

::From her pants pocket she withdrew three small padds and handed one to each cadet before taking a step back to where she had been previously.::

Herodion: Those contain your transfer orders. First of many throughout your careers, I would imagine. Now, your transport to Starbase 118 will arrive in a couple hours. Feel free to go back to the Tarisa's Jewel until then.

::Having recovered from her shock from the first revelation but still reeling over the second, Vance helped guide Reia back toward the stairs to the surface. Ellen suspected that Vance was just as surprised but he seemed better at coping with surprises. In fact Vance was probably upset at not discovering the true nature of the room they were in.

Ellen for her part felt unbelievably elated. She had been working so hard and overcome so much to reach this point but found that she had few words to say now that she had arrived. Maybe there wasn't anything to say, it didn't really matter to her. She felt compelled to run to that staircase so that she could get cleaned up ready for that transport to beam them up. Before Ellen could get far though, and after Vance and Reia had well and truly left the room Commander Herodion spoke again.::

Herodion: Cain, a moment please.

Cain: ::Turning back to the Commander trying to calm herself down.:: Yes Commander.

Herodion: I didn't think much of when you were assigned to be my yeoman. The fact is that you have become instrumental to me. So I wanted to personally thank you for your service to me thus far. You will be a credit to Fleet Operations on Starbase 118.

Cain: Thank you Commander, that means more to me than I can say. ::Pausing to think.:: It certainly hasn't always been easy serving under you but I wouldn't have want anything else.

Herodion: ::Smiling:: Oh I know which also proves that you are extraordinarily brave in addition to skilled. ::Walking over to one of the nearest crates revealing a small case. Popping the lid on the case open she gestured for Ellen to approach.:: Bravery however will only get you so far so this is my gift to you. A good phaser will get you through pretty much anything that your skills can't.

::Ellen approached seeing the, clearly and heavily, customized Type 2 personal phaser. She smiled as she picked it up from its case feeling the grip in her hand. It certainly had a bit more weight to it and the trigger looked more pressure sensitive. Ellen did hope that she wouldn't have to use it often in her new posting but had a feeling that the weapon would serve her well when she had cause to unholster it.::

Cain: ::Positively beam.:: Thank you Commander. ::Saying simply not sure what else to say.::

Herodion: You better hurry up and catch up to your friends Ensign. I will be up to see you off later on. I hope to have words with the Commander of the Cressida, the ship that will be taking you to 118.

::Turning Ellen made quick work of catching up to Vance and Reia. Even when she had caught up to the pair she still hadn't calmed down. She felt almost as giddy as Reia had been at the possibility of combat. For Ellen though she was overly excited to see what the future held in store for them. And more specifically what types of adventures the trio would have on Starbase 118.::

TBC

Ensign Ellen Cain

Fleet Operations

Starbase 118

Simmed by:

Ensign Clayas Vell

Science Officer; Starbase118 Ops

[SB118 Ops: Quotations of the Week!]

CPO Necessity James: Broadsword Calling Danny Boy!

"Where Eagles Dare" reference, love it!!!!!

[SB118 Ops: Quotations of the Week!]

Why thank you! I think Tiam and Falcon may have that same, let's call it, adventurous streak in them... This could mean trouble for Ops xD

Let the mischief begin!

[Graduating Class of 239201.14]

Welcome to the Fleet!!!

[SB118 Ops: Quotations of the Week!]

Handley-Page: =/\= I understand. Very well, sit tight and hold onto to something, except Rawden, he’s married.=/\=

Especially coming a scant three lines after a comment about Velana being 'the one that got away'. ¬_¬

[[sb118-ops] MSNPC Ry'van Alstred - Command Center]

((StarBase 118, Habitat Area, Temporary Quarters, 1 hour ago))

::Ry’van Alstred admired himself in the mirror while he fastened a silvery skintight vest to his torso. The cosmetic surgeon who had altered his appearance had done quite a fantastic job. He looked every inch the perfect specimen of an Arkarian merchant, even down to the pinkish flush in his cheeks. Once the vest was in place, he picked up a tricorder, scanning the flexible circuitry embedded into the garment, making sure that everything was in good working order.

It was a simple device, really. Simple enough to evade all but the most focused and invasive of scans. Just a signal enhancer, one that was strong enough to ensure a transporter beam could reach out and pluck him off the StarBase even through the storm.

Because unlike the majority of the cattle grazing about on the civilian sections of StarBase 118, Ry’van was acutely aware of what was about to hit the station, and what the Cerberas was carrying. Should that bomb go off, he was going to make sure that he was far away from this station as possible.::

Message Screen: ::Green text, harsh and glaring:: Are you coming?

Alstred: ::he narrowed his eyes at the message and spat into the darkness:: I’m on time, you slave driver. ::If his contact wasn’t working for the same noble goal as he was, he would have tried to eliminate him years ago.::

::He tugged his brown tunic over the specialized undergarment and pulled on a thick blue coat, checking all of his supplies before finally slipping on his boots. Checking the chronometer, he grabbed his merchant’s satchel and headed out the door with a deliberate quickness to his pace. He pushed through the milling crowds headed for the commercial sector, all of them blindly oblivious to what was about to come knocking on their doorstep.

Oblivious was the best way Ry’van could describe the average Federation citizen. It was like they all had blinders on, and all they could see was what was directly in front of them. His own people had believed this about the Federation in general and Terrans in particular for generations. But it took a disaster to prove that the Federation only offered aid for what it thought was important, rather than listening for actual need. And with Ry’van’s beloved homeland spiraling towards oblivion, the Federation was all too eager to step forward and expand their own borders at the expense of the Romulan people.

And so Ry’van Alstred decided to join the cause of bringing oblivion to the oblivious.

He swallowed back the bitter taste of bile as he slipped past a group of tourists talking about holosuite adventures and a set of Starfleet officers whining about their leave being cut back a day. Such terrible troubles that the Federation was burdened with. Such sorrows. Well, today they would get a little taste of sorrow, though not nearly enough to rival what he had already gone though. Even if their plans worked perfectly and the Cerberas ended up taking out a major section of this massive edifice that stood as a symbol of Starfleet superiority, it wouldn’t begin to match the suffering Ry’van had seen and endured.

His contact was leaning against a post outside a jumja shop, a place where plenty of people, civilian and Starfleet alike were milling about either buying the sweet treats or waiting for others to buy them. He kept his head down, gesturing for Ry’van to follow::

Contact: Are you ready?

Alstred: Would I be here if I wasn’t ready?

Contact: Meet me in the Engineering section, Deck 1313, subsection 6. ::He pressed a PADD into Ry’van’s hand:: If you need clearances they’re on there. But I suspect most of the checkpoints will be distracted.

Alstred: Yes, I expect. Unless we’re lucky.

Contact: Never bet on luck.

Alstred. I admit, watching this space station blow from a nearby vantage point would be incredibly satisfying. But I am betting that Starfleet will mobilize and figure out some way to save everyone just in the nick of time. This seems to be their overall modus operandi.

Contact: I know. Frustrating, isn’t it. ::he offered a light smile, which was jarring for his Vulcanoid features and tidy Starfleet uniform.::

Alstred: Yes. ::he nodded, moving away from his contact. As much as he disliked the man, he also admired him. For a Romulan undercover agent to so cleanly insert himself into Starfleet and work under scrutiny was not so odd twenty years ago. But now with resources so thin and most of their people so scattered, it was quite the accomplishment:: Ehlu'eri Merht Ehtea'akhe ::he whispered the Romulan words of the call sign

Contact: Diamn hiullhull. ::’sacrifice always. The Romulan response.::

::Both men gave a nod of respect to one another and parted, just two strangers in the crowd. Ry’van Alstred headed to a secure location, quietly bracing himself for impact and savoring the cries of fear and confusion as the Cerberas smashed into the nerve center of Starbase 118::

Alstred: oO Serves you right, Federation scum. You can wallow in your sloth for only so long. The Resiliency is waiting for you. Oo

::Still, there was no time to waste. The Romulan undercover agent made his way through the habitat and mercantile levels, dodging guards and well intentioned officers trying to herd civilians to safety. Despite his bold words, he was glad for the codes his contact had provided. They allowed him to access areas that were off limits to civilians, and to slip into an un-patrolled route down to the computer core deep in the Engineering section::

((StarBase 118, deck 1313, subsection 6))

::His contact was already there, glaring down from his polished black hair and dark devilish countenance::

Contact: You brought the data rods?

Alstred: I did. ::He looked up at the multiple alarms wailing:: How distracted are they?

Contact: Enough. ::he folded his arms across his chest:: We got lucky. A piece of the Cerberas embedded into the Starbase’s special ops tower, including an un-detonated torpedo. They’re trying to tow the freighter away, but now they have a second explosive to deal with. ::There was a smug river of humor flowing through the Vulcan-sounding voice.:: You should have all the time you need. ::He offered a box over::

Alstred: ::opening the box carefully, checking the wealth of isolinear rods, access chips and other Starfleet goodies inside:: I suspect you’re leaving me to my work?

Contact: Of course. I have a duty to perform. Starfleet might get suspicious if I do not report within the next few minutes.

Alstred: Have fun milling with the cattle.

::His contact turned and offered only a nod in response as Ry’van Alstred cracked open an access panel and started to get to work. With the StarBase falling into chaos around him, he had one job to focus on – getting as deep into Starbase 118’s computer and siphoning as much information out of it as he could before someone was alerted.

He was good at his work, and if this was an independent space station he was sure he could crack civilian security, gut the computer core and walk out with all the information he pleased. But this was Starfleet, with multiple layers of security protocols, back ups and encryptions. The question wasn’t if he would get caught, but when. And his job was to get as much as he could before the station either found out or blew up.

He cracked his knuckles and began.::

~*~

((Starbase 118 – Control Room))

::It was some time later, deep into the crisis, when emotions were already high, stakes were raised, and the situation had become painfully complex. The alert was just one more flash on a panel that was flashing in so many places that it looked like a rock concert run by a lighting designer on speed, whose favorite color was ‘red alert red’

But the warning was clear nonetheless: Security alert in the computer core, deck 1313…::

~*~

tags/tbc

~*~

MSNPC Ry’van Alstred

Arkarian Merchant (Romulan terrorist)

And

NPC “Unknown Contact”

Not a Starfleet officer, Not a Vulcan

Not StarBase 118

Simmed by: Lt. Commander Sal Taybrim

[SB118 Ops: Quotations of the Week!]

From Leo Handley-Page:

:: Leo had a cold shiver that he managed to hide. A volunteer? Someone good at piloting ships? He prayed to the forces of the universe it wasn’t Kaitlyn being foolishly brave.::

This earned a "Daww...." from both my wife and I. ::Chuckles.:: There was no doubt in my mind that he cares about her, but we still enjoy seeing it demonstrated!

He does care about her... very much

[[sb118-garuda] JP: Dr. Rahman & Lt. DeVeau: To Your Plants!]

((Outside Chief Science Officer’s Office))

::”Find Lieutenant DeVeau.” Sounded simple enough.::

::And yet, as Roshanara looked ahead down the corridor that resembled now more a hedge maze, she wondered if she should have had some of the other shuttle crew come along.::

::Holding a flashlight in one hand and a tricorder in the other, the Kriosian engineer crept closer to Alora’s office. The sensors on the device were of a little help, just showing an ill-defined biomass.::

::The doors to Alora’s office abruptly opened as she approached, startling her a bit in the dark. Peering in, she found the humble abode just as deserted as the rest of the science facilities.::

::As she waved the light slowly across the room, she caught sight of a few tiny tendrils reaching out from a petri dish on the small desk in the center of the room. She stepped closer and the green finger-like projections arched towards the light.::

::Creepy.::

DeVeau: Nara...

::The single name swept out of the void, but there was no face to accompany it. Only the shadows of the mass of flora that surrounded the Kriosian, that thrust the office into the depths of darkness that filled the little room. A sigh, soft, disembodied, followed upon its heels, then faded.::

:he spun around, trying to find the source of the singsong voice.::

Rahman: Alora? Are you all right?

:he glanced down at her tricorder, but only indeterminate readings returned.::

DeVeau: I’m fine.

::The sound had switched directions, coming from above Roshanara rather than in front. From those depths, a pale oval slowly slipped into view - her face, just her face, tiny, then tendrils clinging to her cheeks and forehead. She smiled, then her visage faded gloom.::

::Roshanara turned her gaze upward, gasping at the sight of her friend.::

Rahman: Oh my God, Alora… we need to get you some help. I’ll call for Dr. Skyfire or Del…

::Her answer was in the form of a sudden whiplash of vines that whirled about her form and pinned her arms to her sides, causing her to drop the tricorder and flashlight. As she struggled to get free, Alora appeared again, more of those vines clinging to the science officer, lowering her slowly to the floor, then releasing her - save for those same, slender tendrils that trickled over her face and body, like tattoos etched upon her skin and clothing.::

Rahman: :till straining against the vice-like grip of the vines:: Alora, we have to help contain this… infestation. It’s taking over the ship… hurting people…

DeVeau: Is it?

::Alora seemed to glide over to Roshanara and drew close. She leaned forward, her face stopping a breath away from the other woman’s. Her lips parted, tongue darting out to trace a path over them, then she pulled away to encircle the captive.::

DeVeau: What do you propose we do, hmm?

::The vines holding Roshanara tightened, as if to punctuate Alora’s question. The engineer winced as she looked back at her friend, but despite those brilliant green eyes she’d remembered since they first served together aboard the Mercury, she could tell this was not the same young woman she’d helped mentor and reassure during her early days as an ensign.::

Rahman: Alora, please… you’re hurting me…

DeVeau: Am I?

:he tittered and twirled about as she returned to Roshanara’s view.::

DeVeau: Dear, sweet Nara.

:he shifted in closer and laughed, spittle spraying across her cheek.::

Rahman: ::turning her head slightly:: Do you understand what’s going on here? These plants… they’ve done something to you.

:he felt another squeeze of the vines and winced again.::

DeVeau: To me?

::A smirk stretched over her lips, those verdant eyes glinting in the dimness afforded by the torch.::

DeVeau: Oh my dear, sweet child. You have _no_ idea.

:he cackled, then flicked her fingers. For a moment, the vines loosened their grip just ever so slightly. Roshanara took in a deep breath of relief, coughing as she did so.::

Rahman: What do you -- *they* want?

::Were the plants somehow communicating with Alora? Through her? She needed to keep her talking regardless if she were to have any chance of calling for help.::

DeVeau: What do we want? First...I think we should take a little walk, don’t you?

::Not as if Roshanara had much choice. She twisted in futility as the vines wrapped her up once more and brought her close to Alora.::

Rahman: Alora… please… people are dying out there.

::Alora whirled around, hand curling around the Kriosian’s neck, her fingers digging into the flesh as she pressed her face close to Roshanara’s. Her lips hovered just above the other woman’s, her breath warm as she sighed. A single finger stroked the flesh of her neck, then she released Nara, nails trailing lightly over her skin.::

DeVeau: Come, my dear. I’ve been remiss - I’ve shown my favour to so many, but not to you. That, however, is about to change. I have a gift for you.

::The engineer tried to turn her face away, but the vines just brought her in closer.::

Rahman: ::furrowing her brow:: What are you talking about? This isn’t some game-

::But the science officer’s only answer was a heavy, full laugh, as a piece of fruit hanging off of one of the vines -- a mango, it looked like -- was shoved into Nara’s mouth, silencing her screams.::

DeVeau: Shhhhhh.

::Alora flashed her friend a sinister smile before flicking her fingers as she moved out of the office. The vines confining Roshanara began to follow and soon the two were swept into the shadows.::

---

Lieutenant Alora DeVeau

Chief Science Officer, USS Garuda

&

Dr. Roshanara Rahman

Project Manager, Starfleet Soon-to-be-Corpse of an Engineer

[[sb118-garuda] (PNPC) Andrew Davenport - From Bad to Worse]

(( Deck 4, Crew Quarters ))

:: Andrew hadn’t had much of an opportunity to add personal effects to his quarters, so when he stepped out into the corridor with the intent of eating breakfast in Ten Forward, he had no warning to prepare him for what greeted him. ::

:: The ceiling of the corridor was overgrown - completely - by a series of what looked to Terran vegetable plants. Tomatoes, specifically. His mother had been a gardener, once upon a time, and there was no mistaking the plants for what they were. Although the overripe, too-green fruits littering the floor didn't much resemble the tomatoes he was familiar with. ::

:: Except, these weren't like any tomato plant his mother had grown. For one thing, they were massive. For another, they were growing over the ceiling with so much speed that the reporter could actually see it. It was like watching clouds drift across the sky on a windy day. Except weirder. Actually, a lot weirder. Things like this were the reason he had never even considered a career in Starfleet. ::

:: Further down, many of the plants were wide enough to fill the entire corridor and long enough to touch the floor. But, the part that really bothered him, was that they were moving. ::

:: Near-panicked officers in less-than pristine uniforms were rushing through the corridor in an attempt to see to their jobs. He saw several armed security and operations officers trying to work their way through the corridors, edging away from the largest plants wherever they could. Except, as that group rounded the corner, another lone ensign, trying to edge around one of the plants, inadvertently bumped into another of them. It apparently didn’t like that. As the young gold-collared Bolian realized her mistake, the plant slammed into her with considerable force, eliciting a scream of terror from the woman. She turned to run only to have her ankles pulled out from under her. ::

DAVENPORT: Okay…

:: At the sound of his voice, the ensign's eyes found him, and the desperate plea was clear even before she voiced it. ::

PREN: Help me!

:: She was being pulled towards an open ceiling panel by the time Andrew got to her. He’d intended to pull her free, but when he grabbed the ensign’s outstretched hands and lowered his center of gravity to get a little more leverage, he realized how ill-conceived that plan had been. Two seconds later his own feet were off the ground while the plant snared him as well. He almost screamed, but the Bolian took care of that for him. Instead, he closed his eyes and braced himself for what he was sure was going to be an unpleasant ride. ::

:: The missing panel was just large enough for his shoulders to squeeze through. The monstrous tomato plant somehow lifted them into a dark, narrow tunnel, and even more limb-like vines dragged them deeper and deeper down some kind of narrow shaft. When it dropped them, the majority of its body had slumped back down into the corridor, blocking out the light and any any chance of escape, at least through the same hole they’d been pulled in. Plunged into darkness and surrounded by the damp, sharp scent of the plant, Andrew fully expected something worse to happen. But when that something never came, he allowed himself to relax. At least as much as he could. ::

:: He took several slow breaths while tentatively reaching around him to feel the walls of their makeshift prison. There was no light, but the smooth metallic walls made him think they were in some kind of ventilation shaft. The woman he’d tried to save was hyperventilating, her rapid breaths echoing loudly through the narrow shaft. ::

DAVENPORT: Hey! Settle down. Panicking isn't going to help.

PREN: I...I’m sorry.

:: Andrew scoffed. ::

DAVENPORT: For dragging me up here? That’s all right. By the look of that corridor, we might be better off. I’m just trying to figure out why it took us up here. We’ll skip the how for now, because I’m not sure I want to know the answer to that one.

:: She reached for his arm as she began to breathe more deeply, gulping down slower breaths. ::

PREN: I… I think we’re in the ship’s ventilation system.

DAVENPORT: Yeah, I think so too.

:: He was still feeling along the floor, looking for anything he might be able to use to find his bearings. Instead, his fingers found a complex weave of small, interwoven vines. He couldn’t see in the dark, but they reminded him of the morning glory he’d used to pull out of his mother’s garden. What was something like that doing up here. ::

:: More disconcerting, the tiny vines reacted to his touch, curling around his fingers, gripping tightly. Andrew was able to pull his hand free, but with more effort than he’d care to admit. Some of the vines snapped and popped rather than release him. An artificial plastic scent struck his nose as some kind of moisture splashed over his wrist. ::

PREN: There are more plants in here.

DAVENPORT: I noticed. What’s going on?

PREN: I don’t know. Someone called me up to ops, except the turbolifts were all shut down, so it took me a long time to get up here - my quarters are all the way down on deck 19. These plants are everywhere. And. I… I think they’re eating people.

:: Andrew laughed. ::

DAVENPORT: Last I checked, plants didn't have teeth.

:: That didn't seem to help. ::

PREN: I… saw one that did.

:: That shut him up. Okay. Massive mobile plants with strength to match and an apparent hunger for humanoid flesh. It was starting to get just a little more terrifying than it was absurd. ::

DAVENPORT: Do you know how to get out of here.

:: There was a pause, then the sound of a commbadge.::

PREN: =/\= Ensign Pren to transporter room 1. Can you beam me and one civilian out of here. =/\=

OPERATOR: =/\= Sorry, Ensign. We just lost power to the entire system. Do you need help? I can send security, though they're hands are pretty full at the moment. =/\=

PREN: =/\= Um… no. I think we can get out. Pren out. =/\=

DAVENPORT: So…

PREN: I've been up here before. During the Garuda’s last refit we had to replace a lot of these shafts to make room for other systems. I think I can get us to another access panel. Except…

:: She trailed off, prompting Davenport to prod. ::

DAVENPORT: Except what?

PREN: Except there’s probably a reason that plant brought us up here. Crawling around up here might make things worse.

DAVENPORT: Worse than sitting up here in the dark and hoping someone comes along to save us?

PREN: When you put it like that…

:: Andrew gave her the time she needed to collect herself. ::

PREN: If we’re where I think we are, the nearest panel will be about 70 meters this way, but we’ll need to drop down to get there.

:: She started down the corridor, where the thinner vines were growing more prominent. Andrew followed here, desperately trying to ignore the growing sense of unease that came when he realized he could no longer feel the metal of the ventilation shaft underneath. After Pren’s comment about plants with teeth, he couldn't shake the sense that he was crawling right into some great beast’s stomach. ::

PREN: Here’s the drop.

:: She said after a few moments of the slow crawl. ::

PREN: It should only be about two meters. I’ll go first. If… you don’t hear anything from me, something went wrong.

:: Andrew wanted to say something. Volunteer to go first, maybe. But self preservation was a powerful instinct, and one he wasn’t ready to shake just yet. ::

:: He heard her drop more than he felt it. It was a soft sliding noise followed by a considerable bang that drowned out any sound of the Bolian’s impact below. After a few seconds she called up to him. ::

PREN: It’s not so bad. More plants down here. They help break the fall.

:: That was encouraging, Andrew thought as he reached the edge. His eyes strained to see below, but there was still no light. ::

DAVENPORT: I’m coming down then.

:: A moment later, his feet were slamming hard against the bottom of the shaft. It really wasn't that bad, and the anxiety he’d been feeling was slowly starting to abate. ::

PREN: Just a few more meters this way.

:: He followed her, encouraged by a sliver of light in the distance. He could see Pren’s slender frame as she crawled along the shaft. And the thickening weave of vines still lining every surface for as far as the limited light would allow him to see. ::

:: The sliver of light, it turned out, was the panel they’d been trying to reach. The vines, growing in knotted coils, had somehow forced the side panel open a few centimeters. ::

DAVENPORT: Can you get it open?

PREN: I think so…

:: It took some effort, but the panel eventually gave way to her efforts. She gasped a moment later when she saw what it opened up to. Andrew peered over her shoulder. ::

:: The thin vines were growing from an absolutely enormous mass in the center of what appeared to have once been some kind of biology lab. The plant, which vaguely resembled an enormous pitcher plant, now filled the room, while hundreds of vines of various sizes shooting out from it in all directions. Some of them appeared to even be linked into the ship’s power grid. ::

DAVENPORT: Maybe we should try another--

:: Andrew had just enough time to start his thought before the vines surrounding them folded into a net-like lattice that plucked them from the ventilation shaft and down into the lab. More vines began wrapping around them, slowly cocooning, like a spider wrapping a fly in silk. That was the last thing Andrew was aware of for quite some time. ::

(( OOC - If anyone needs something to do, feel free to get involved! ))

===

Andrew Davenport

Press Observer

USS Garuda

simmed by

Lieutenant Evan Delano

[Graduating Class of 239201.06]

Welcome to the Fleet!!

[Awards 2014]

Congratulations to all the winners!!!!!

[Graduating Class of 239112.30]

Welcome to the Fleet!

[SB118 Ops: Quotations of the Week!]

::So, that became Kaitlyn’s goal, to become Leo’s jack-of-all-trades / ace-in-the-hole.::

(by Kaitlyn Falcon)

Lucky Leo...

[SB118 Ops: Quotations of the Week!]

Please post any funny lines or memorable quotations from sims from our crew!

[Graduating Class of 239112.08]

Welcome to the Fleet!!!

[Graduating Class of 239111.30]

Welcome to the Fleet!!!

[JP: LtJG Core and Lt Rahman: Person, Place, and Time]

((Intensive Care Unit, Medical Starbase 358, Four Years Ago - Late 2387))

::Silence. Pure silence.::

::Silence, of which was deafening. Though it’d been a few days without thoughts other than his own invading his privacy, it’d been excruciating. He’d only felt like this when he was a child, growing up in the world of extremely quiet minds. It was difficult to get into a Rodulan’s head, so leaving the home planet for Starfleet had been overwhelming. He’d dealt with that. Gotten used to it, even used it to his advantage. But now?::

::Not even a whisper.::

::Tristam glanced around his room, glaring at the beeping monitor, of which (he presumed) kept track of his heart rate. Hadn’t 24th century technology gotten past the need for sound confirmation? With the absence of something proper to listen in to, he could hear his heart beating in his ears. Loud thumps. Sometimes a millisecond slower or faster, the beeping was getting on his nerves. It *had* been getting on his nerves, for the last few days.::

::His mind was so foggy that he couldn’t even keep track of how many days it’d actually been. What a disaster. No telepathy, no mental ability, no physical ability . . . he might as well have been a vegetable.::

::Out of nowhere, a new sound, rivalling that of the annoying and incessant beeping of the monitor, found its way into his ears. Footsteps, on the hard floor in the corridor. It was, at least, something to distract him, compared to the lack of activities he had to actually engage himself with. Whether or not it was just a passer-byer was his main question, one which was answered quickly.::

Sampi: Good morning, lieutenant.

::Doctor Charles Sampi stepped into the room, pleased to see that Tristam was awake. The junior doctor of the Pioneer had elected to stay with the engineer on the medical starbase while he was still in a coma following the accident. For the first couple of weeks, there were some precarious nights, but gradually, the Rodulan’s brain function seemed to be improving. Whether he’d actually be able to return to duty though was still too early to say.::

Sampi: Did you get a good night’s rest?

::The Rodulan took a breath in, holding it for a few seconds before he replied.::

Core: I don’t know.

::He hadn’t even been aware that it was morning until the doctor’s mention of it. Days blurred together. He’d close his eyes one second, open them to what might have been a new day the next second. Tristam looked down, fingers doing their best to motion towards the monitor.::

Core: Sound. ::he gave a slight sigh.:: Turned on again.

Sampi: Yes. After the scare you gave us two nights ago, we felt it better to keep you on 24-hour telemetry. But if you’d like them muted…

Core: The tone could be changed. The sound it puts out. It’s . . . emitting a frequency. And it’s irritating. I-I would like it turned off . . .

::The young doctor nodded and went over to silence the monitors.::

Sampi: Of course. Unfortunately, it’s one of the cruelest ironies that it’s difficult to get proper rest in a hospital.

Core:::mumbling:: Unconscious and sleeping are two different things.

Sampi: Now, lieutenant, the nurses tell me you haven’t really been eating much.

Core: ‘M not hungry.

Sampi: Understandable, but it’s important that you continue to get proper nutrition, especially while you’re bedbound. We really don’t want you to lose too much of your muscle mass.

::Muscle mass. It’d never been important to him, never came up at any point in his life except for now. Sure, he required muscles to lift things - lifting all sorts of things - but keeping a mass whilst bed-ridden? Wasn’t exercise required for that? He didn’t even know how bad his knee was, hadn’t been willing to test it and the doctors and nurses hadn’t been willing to make him stand - assisted or on his own - let alone move that leg.::

Core: My knee. Reconstructed . . . should be moved, shouldn’t it? Therapy of some kind?

Sampi: Yes, but we have to make sure it’s safe for you to do so first. It’s only been a week since you’ve regained consciousness.

Core: It aches. All of it.

::Tristam was an engineer. He wasn’t built to deal with injuries like this - he wasn’t even fully aware of the whole list of injuries he’d received, but he knew it was bad. He was lucky to be awake right now, let alone speaking, being about to nod, move his fingers - he could probably move both his legs, he’d just been too frightened to try.::

Sampi: I can increase your pain medication if it’s still bothering you after the nurses administer your current dosages. How does that sound?

::There was a pause and a frown as he considered the doctor’s words.::

Core: I don’t like being foggy.

Sampi: All right, but let me know if you decide otherwise. Now, I’d like to go over a few questions with you, lieutenant. ::He offered a warm smile.:: I’m sure you’ve memorized them by now.

Core: Always nice to test me.

::It gave him something to do, to think about. Maybe even to come up with new creative ways to answer - though the questions were so bland, requiring the correct answer. It was difficult to come up with interesting ways to answer questions like this.::

Sampi: ::nods:: Can you tell me your name.

Core: Tristam Daniel Core.

Sampi: And where are you right now?

Core: Medical Starbase. No one’s told me the number - it’s never come up.

::He did hope, however, that the nurses had conveyed the proper information to his family. Last thing he really needed was for Gamighan to have a fit because of a nurse telling him his son had been in an accident without bothering to tell him where Tristam was now. Speaking of Gamighan, it’d be nice to have a family member around - Taywor or his dad. He’d even settle for Yanata, Taywor’s partner.::

::The doctor nodded again.::

Sampi: And what day is it?

::That was always the hard one. He glanced up at the doctor, suddenly working his mind more to come up with the correct answer to that one. When had their last conversation been? Yesterday, wasn’t it? No, because . . .

::He didn’t know. He wasn’t even aware that *weeks* had passed since . . . ::

((Three weeks earlier, Main Engineering, USS Pioneer))

::The Rodulan leaned in closer to Rahman to whisper to her, an amused smile on his face.::

Core: Remember that Admiral Kj-whatever is watching. Could definitely end our careers if we relax and all.

::It had been an attempt to lighten the “official” mood of the long awaited experiment. An Admiral - of whom Tristam had never been able to remember his name properly - had visited for a reason only the Artist knew. Something to do with this experiment being a part of the larger “quantum slip” project or whatnot. He didn’t really find it all that important and therefore didn’t pay it all that much attention.::

::After a brief inspection of the systems, of which were flawless as per usual, they had commenced. So far, it was going smoothly - except for the insane amount of tension in Engineering. If he had a knife, he could probably cut through it.::

::Roshanara was busy monitoring the increased plasma flow along the power transfer conduits.::

Rahman: Ahem. Would you behave? ::She shook her head slightly, although a smile of her own did escape as well.::

Core: Oh, I’m sorry. Am I being cheeky in front of the admirals again?

Rahman: You’re being something, all right… ::She tapped a few controls on her console to initiate the graviton particle actuators.:: How are we looking on our power levels?

Core: Steady. No fluctuations.

::She nodded. She was about to charge the gravitons when Admiral Kjær, head of Starfleet R&D, walked up behind them.::

Kjær: Everything looking all right, lieutenant?

Rahman: Yes, sir. Just about to begin the initiation.

::The admiral looked pleased as he took a glance around the room, calling the attention of the other engineers.::

Kjær: Remember this moment, people. Just another step towards a new era of starship design and exploration.

::Roshanara took a deep breath. No pressure at all…::

::She began the particle charge and as before, everything seemed to be going smoothly.::

Core:::nudging the Kriosian:: Seriously, you’re practically shouting your unease in my ear. *Relax*.

::She whispered back as the low whine of the particle actuators could be heard under the deck.::

Rahman: I’m sorry! It’s just… you remember the simulations. This is where it happens.

Core: Don’t jinx it.

::She stared at the screen, holding her breath. They had discovered the failure once the graviton charge had reached 70%. Not consistently enough for Starfleet to call off the entire demonstration, but enough for Roshanara to have lost sleep over it the past week.::

Rahman: Particle actuators at full power. Watch those leads.

Core: I know, I’ve got it covered. Calm down.

::On the screen, the charge slowly increased. 3%. 7%. 16%. It quickly picked up in pace, jumping several integers at a time. 31% 38%. 47%.::

::An alarm went off. Roshanara glanced at the marker and tapped her combadge.::

Rahman: =/\= Bradley, I’m reading a slight dip in the flow rate. =/\=

Bradley: =/\= Yes, ma’am. Just a little dirt in the mix. =/\=

Rahman: =/\= Keep it to above 15. =/\=

Bradley: =/\= Aye. =/\=

::Glancing back at her display, the charging process continued. 56%. 64%. 68%.::

::She took in another breath.::

::71%. 74%.::

::Tristam didn’t have to read the console to know they’d made it past the critical point. His smile was still on his face as he noted the change of tone in her thoughts - relief, from what he could gather.::

::She let out her breath.::

Core: Told you.

::She looked over at him and finally gave out a genuine smile today.::

Rahman: I suppose so. All right, get ready to begin the graviton transfer on my-

::The deck underneath them suddenly jostled, nearly sending her falling into him. A new alarm began sounding as her fingers flew over her console. The flow rate had dipped again below the threshold.::

Rahman: We need more power to the actuators.

Core: I’m already rerouting.

::[...] it, it wasn’t working. She called Bradley again.::

Rahman: =/\= Ensign, I need that rate increased now. =/\=

Bradley: =/\= Working on it, lieutenant. Having trouble stabilizing the EPS- =/\=

::His voice was cut off by the thunder of an explosion as the ship shook again violently.::

Rahman: =/\= Bradley? Are you all right? =/\=

::There was no answer.::

Rahman: oO [...] it. Oo

::The admiral along with the Pioneer’s chief engineer, a gruff Zaldan lieutenant commander named Meran, returned from farther up Main Engineering.::

Meran: What’s going on, Rahman?

Rahman: We’ve had a loss of power in one of the actuators. It’s causing an imbalance in the system. ::But her change in tone emphasized her greater concern over the failed experiment.:: Sir, it sounds like Bradley might be hurt. We have to abort.

::The admiral seemed not too keen on that suggestion, his voice showing some frustration.::

Kjaer: Now, now, lieutenant, let’s not be too hasty. Surely you can find a work around?

::Tristam, having taken off immediately, was already in action and putting out fires on the upper deck, when he called out.::

Core: With all due respect, sir, the system is about to come down on our heads.

::The chief engineer nodded.::

Meran: I’m inclined to agree. History will just have to wait a little longer, admiral. ::He turned to Roshanara.:: Shut her down.

::Roshanara nodded and initiated the shutdown. It was frustrating to have it end this way, but they had little choice.::

Rahman: I’m deactivating the actuators now. Once I get the system fully disengaged, I’ll prepare a level 2 diagnostic to-

::Again, the ship rocked hard, this time knocking several crewmen off their feet. The admiral went over to help some of them as Roshanara looked over her panel to find out what was going on. Meran stepped up beside her, surveying the system schematics.::

Meran: One of the flow regulators isn’t responding! It’s still feeding an actuator.

Rahman: It’s Bradley, sir. There must be something wrong down there. I’ll get down there and shut it down manually.

::She was about to head to the ladder when the chief stopped her.::

Meran: Negative, lieutenant. I need *you* up here finishing the shutdown. I’ll go. You can walk me through it.

Rahman: Sir, respectfully, it’s not as simple as flipping a switch.

::The chief didn’t hide his annoyance, perhaps because of her use of courtesy or the implication that it was out of his grasp - or both.::

Meran: I may not hold a doctorate, Rahman, but I assure you I do know a thing or two about engineering.

Rahman: Commander, I didn’t mean-

Core: For Artists’ sake, by the time you two are done bickering we won’t *have* any flow regulators or actuators to shut down! ::He climbed down a ladder, passing the two.:: Rahman, do what you do best - Meran, not your project.

Meran: Wait!

::But Tristam had already descended to the lower level. Meran turned back to Roshanara.::

Meran: Is *he* qualified to do this?

::To reassure him, she answered in the only way the Zaldan would understand and respect.::

Rahman: To be frank, sir, even more than you.

((Lower Engineering Level, USS Pioneer))

::It was an unexpected mess. Tristam waved as much smoke away as he could, coughing through it as he rushed past plasma fires. The other engineers around him were working like ants, containing the fires the best they could. By the time he’d reached the flow regulators, he’d spotted Bradley - now he understood why the man hadn’t responded to Rahman’s last call. The last explosion hadn’t just fused a regulator, but knocked Bradley out cold as well.::

::This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was just an experiment, for some new propulsion drive, and not even the entire drive - just one part of the drive. Nothing deadly. They weren’t testing a weapon. Yet here he was, dragging a Terran away to safety - and away from where Tristam needed to be.::

::Once that was done, Tristam returned to the regulator. If he didn’t get this done in time, Bradley would have been the least of his concerns. A manual shut down on the flow regulator, when it was running this hard, was risky. If he brought down the power flow to the actuator too slowly, he wouldn’t be any help at all. And if he did it too quickly, the system could destabilize. Wiping away sweat on his brow, he started to work on the regulator.::

::As much as he had given Rahman a hard time about being nervous earlier, he found himself a little apprehensive. He tried to remember from all the long nights spent in that lab what she had been talking about. Fortunately, while Tristam didn’t care much for propulsionists and their theories, he was good when it came to remembering the little details.::

::And so, sure enough, as he watched over the regulator’s control panel, he realized that he actually did know what he was doing. He didn’t even have to call her as he gently guided the plasma flow downwards. The actuator overhead slowly came to a halt as it sipped its last drop of power.::

((Back on Main Engineering))

Rahman: Actuators fully powered down. ::She looked up from the panel back at Meran and the admiral.:: He did it.

::The chief returned a sharp nod.::

Meran: We’ve still got EPS surges across half the system.

::As Meran went off to direct the other engineers in the room, Roshanara tapped her combadge. She couldn’t suppress her smile.::

Rahman: =/\= Rahman to Core. =/\=

Core: =/\= We’re still in one piece, I see. =/\=

Rahman: =/\= Thanks to you! Great work. =/\=

Core: =/\= Yeah, well, it’s not over yet. =/\=

Rahman: =/\= Trust me, when this is all done, you’ll have all the swuit sticks you could ever want. =/\=

Core: =/\= That better include your company. =/\=

Rahman: =/\= Hmmph. All right, lieutenant. I think you earned it. =/\=

Core: =/\= Agreed. I am the best Rodulan engineer ever. =/\=

::Her smile faded as she saw one of the EPS monitors light up on her panel. She tried to stop the oncoming plasma surge, but more warning lights lit up along the EPS grid as the surge continued its cascade down the conduit towards him.::

Rahman: oO No, no, no! Oo

((Lower engineering level))

::Normally, the Rodulan wouldn’t have been able to listen to one set of thoughts in a crowd of many - the amount of engineers scurrying around him meant he wasn’t only listening to the sounds around him, but to the thoughts of at least thirty, maybe forty other people as well. He was lucky he was able to sort through thoughts at all, considering he’d only been off planet for around six years. Rodul was a place of silence, meaning no thoughts could be heard unless you deliberately tried to read someone elses thoughts - though this was to your own peril, and the only one in his family capable of reading another Rodulan was his brother, though not without consequences.::

::The sudden loud thoughts of one Roshanara Rahman, however, somehow managed to push through the blockade of the other random thoughts around him. The tone, the volume, and the fact that it was thought rather frantically usually meant something was up.::

Core: =/\= Roshanara? What’s- =/\=

::Her voice called out to him desperately through his combadge.::

Rahman: =/\= Tristam, get out of there now! =/\=

::Despite Roshanara’s warning, he hadn’t been given enough time. He’d barely registered what she’d said before it’d happened.::

::It wasn’t a loud “bang” - it was worse than that. It was the sound of his ear drums bursting at what he would only later presume to have been the plasma conduit rupturing off to his side. He’d managed to clear the relay only a miniscule period of time before it blew as well. He knew that burns from an EPS relay, although painful, wouldn’t be life threatening. What he hadn’t counted on, however, was the sheer force of the explosion. He was light enough to be thrown into the bulkhead on his left.::

::It was all very hazy after that, but despite his ears already ringing, he heard *another* explosion, close to him - whether or not it was above or next to him, he’d never know - as it caused the deck plating to tear apart. His last glimpse was of a massive bulkhead coming down on top of him. It was at that point everything went black.::

::Silence. Pure silence.::

----

Lieutenant JG Tristam Core

Engineer, USS Pioneer

&

Lieutenant Roshanara Rahman

R&D Engineer, USS Pioneer