Rustyy_Hael

That made me chuckle.

M. Captain Kro - Captain Crunch title makes me hungry

Welcome aboard ensigns! Happy to have you with us! Hope you have great fun

((Dagorin VI - Underground Bunker)) :: Lazlo sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, and waited impatiently for word from Urian and Gaixor. Their last transmission indicated an encounter with Starfleet, and he was anxious to know if they'd been able to deal with the intruders. :: Peon: Mister Lazlo, sir! :: Lazlo spun his seat around, his face a combination of anger at the interruption and relief for a distraction. He eyed the short human. The man's skin looked pale and clammy, and he held the handle of a large metal case resting on the floor. :: Lazlo: What is it? Peon: Sir, I brought the package you were expecting. :: Lazlo shot out of the chair and hoisted the case easily in one hand. :: oO The delivery didn't even register on sensors. Looks like Brenda did well this time. Oo Peon: ::swaying slightly:: On the way back I was bitten by some kind of weird rabbit thing, sir. :: Lazlo was faintly aware of some kind of buzzing behind him, but his attention was focused on the case. He nodded absently in vague acknowledgement. :: Lazlo: Mm hmm. :: The human looked at the bite marks on his arm, showing angry red with black lines beginning to spider outward. :: Peon: I think it might be infected. Lazlo: Good, good. Peon: I'd like to visit the sick bay, sir. Lazlo: Glad to hear it. :: The man shuffled off unnoticed while Lazlo popped the clasps on the case. His anticipatory smile became a frown when he looked inside. :: ((short timeskip)) Brenda: Totally Legit Business secret lair, how can I...oh, Mister Lazlo! I've been working on my greeting, do you like it? Lazlo: ::scowling into the communications terminal:: Brenda. Brenda: Yes sir? Lazlo: About the clothes you sent me. Brenda: I sent you the warmest looking thing in your office. Is something wrong? :: In response Lazlo silently held the open case up to the screen. :: Brenda: Oh. That's...not what I took from your office. Lazlo: It certainly is not. Where are my clothes, Brenda? Brenda: I, uh...there must have been some kind of mix-up. (( Risa, Taiz Resort, Diva Suite )) :: D'ghash wouldn't normally wear make-up, but tonight was a special case. Tonight the Klingon woman would accompany Lassk, a member of Saurian royalty, to a one-night-only performance of Saurian opera. Lassk, she had come to find, had very specific tastes when it came to his companions, and D'ghash would have to meet his expectations if she hoped to get close enough to carry out her mission. Now she sat on the bench in front of her room's vanity mirror, rolling her eyes as her date pounded on the door for what had to be the tenth time. :: Lassk: Are you almost ready my dear? D'ghash: Almost! You'll just have to be patient! :: She pursed her lips in disgust at the thought of hanging on the lizard man's arm all night. At least this would be the last time she'd ever have to see him. :: Lassk: Hurry, my darling! The anticipation is killing me! D'ghash: ::chuckling:: oO If you only knew. Oo :: Her makeup perfect, she stood from the table and crossed the room to the garment case on her bed. She carefully opened it and frowned in confusion, lifting the clothing up to examine it. This was certainly not what she had requested. She cursed silently. It was too late to find something else to wear, and if Lassk was displeased it could jeopardize the entire operation. Again came the pounding. :: Laask: I simply cannot wait any longer! I'm coming in! :: D'ghash was out of options. She quickly donned the garment from the case. As the door opened she spun to face Laask wearing a heavy dark-green knit sweater with "REPTILIANS DO IT IN COLD BLOOD" emblazoned across the front in white letters. Laask stopped in his tracks and regarded D'ghash with a slack-jawed stare. :: Laask: Oh, my. How.... :: Just as the Klingon started to think the night was ruined, Laask's mouth curled into a lascivious grin. :: Laask: ...provocative! ((Dagorin VI - Underground Bunker)) Brenda: ::smiling cheerfully:: On the bright side, that should keep you nice and warm! Lazlo: Yes. This and my incandescent rage will keep me warm. Brenda: Good! Is there anything else I can help you with? :: Lazlo sat in silence for long seconds, his left eye twitching noticeably. :: Lazlo: No, Brenda. Brenda: Ok, call if you need anything else! :: Lazlo sat perfectly still save for his twitching eye for several minutes after the screen went blank. :: MSNPC Lazlo Orion Syndicate Overseer Lieutenant Jerome Milsap Assistant Chief Medical Officer USS Constitution-B C239208JM01

((Main Sickbay - USS Constitution-B)) ::The readings were going from 'dead' to 'mostly OK' - this was a good thing. A very good thing. On the other hand, Wyn Foster's body was going from 'fueled by drugs and adrenaline' to 'worst hangover he could remember in a very long time' at warp nine. So when he spoke, it was with a soft lisping drawl that almost made him sound like a true Andorian. Almost.:: Foster: Hey, hey... I think everything's OK. Let's calm down. Everybody good, everybody alive? James: I think he's back with us now...for a while there, Nate, you wuzn't.... ::He fixed his sapphire eyes on Nate, turning serious. Wyn hated playing with life and death. For some reason the miracles of modern medicine seemed to make most people downplay the seriousness of what went on under the biobed monitor.:: Foster: Seven seconds of flatline, Nate. And I've played the game of getting oxygen to the brain before brain damage occurs. I wasn't going to play it again! ::The human smiled, giving a thumbs up, and Wyn couldn't help but smile back. There was something infectious about Nate's cavalier attitude. That and the strange humor gave the little blue medic hope that maybe this time the same person emerged on the other side of death.:: Wilmer: Told you I could do it... James: Oh! You complete [...]! ::She said through smiling exasperation.:: Foster: I would have called him something stronger than that... ::He grumped, staving off an onslaught of nagging. He had expressed concern before this whole debacle happened and it fell on deaf ears. Saying more would only make him look like a dottering mother-in-law; and Nate was too good of a friend for that.:: Wilmer: I'm clear enough to know this isn't my bedroom, Doc. I guess things were that bad, huh? ::He nodded slowly, looking more serious than he wished once again. This was supposed to be a stupid happy fun night of drinking where the worst thing to happen would be some impromptu vomiting and a bad hangover. Not a full on sickbay emergency.:: Foster: I cannot stress how much I don't play around with a patient who has no heartbeat. I'd rather overreact than bury someone. Life support did a bang up job of getting everything regulated again. Wilmer: Doc, please tell me I don't have to spend the entire shore leave in sick bay.... ::Wyn perked a brow and an antennae at Wilmer, debating the answer which he already knew. He wanted to chide Nate and remind him that he had already shot down the engineering repairs before the shock. Oh well.:: Foster: Probably not. But you'll remain here for overnight observation. I want to make sure there's no problem with arrhythmia. James: Yeah, mate, you listen to the Doc proper, yeh? Foster: I'll try to make you as comfy as possible. ::He paused, casting a glace towards James:: Nessa can even stay here if she likes. I have a comfy chair you can sleep in. James/Wilmer: ? ::He bobbed his head in an assent gesturing towards his nearby office.:: Foster: Yeah, I have a non-regulation recliner in my office. It's very, very comfy. But you have to be OK with Triberius sitting on your lap. James/Wilmer: ? ::a hand wave, he was trying to make them feel at ease about staying the night.:: Foster: Triberius is the ::cough:: cat-tribble hybrid Liani made. She said it was for advanced relaxation therapy. ::shrug:: When she left I kept him. He's an irritating ball of fur that loves to sleep on laps. Not sure if I would call that the ultimate in relaxation but he's a decently sweet sort. ::And since Wyn had lost his oldest and most favorite tribble to a soul sucking monster, Triberius was the oldest pet and most constant thing left in his life. He was more attached to the stupid furrball than he would ever admit.:: James/Wilmer: ? Foster: No, I'm not going to be your bodyguard. I'll let the nursing staff handle that. I'm probably going home and nursing one killer hangover. ::A thoughtful pause:: Speaking of, I'll have them treat you guys for hangovers, too. James/Wilmer: ? ::He moved to his office allowing Nessa use of said comfy chair if she desired before taking his leave.:: Foster: I'll see you guys in the morning. James/Wilmer: ? ~*~ ((Foster's Quarters - USS Constitution-B)) ::Wyn Foster dragged himself to his quarters feeling weak, shaky and sick. This was supposed to be a fun night. A relaxing night. A night of teasing and innuendo and drinking. What the hell went wrong? As the door slid open he stumbled inside, looking at the darkness of the big room. It was silent - he couldn't even hear sounds of breathing. That meant Ozameen was out with friends - not unusual. And Mark was... wherever Mark was. And he didn't breathe. God, it was quiet. He walked in like a zombie, letting his oversensitive eyes adjust to the darkness. The cold. It felt good, in stark contrast to the achy sickness in his chest and limbs. The whole conflict of sensation sent unpleasant chills across his skin as he stumbled towards one of the low cushions he called chairs and collapsed down into it. That was when he realized he was shaking. He just couldn't shake it. Could not shake the feeling that every time someone died on his watch, and he brought them back to life that they were never the same person when they woke up again. Could not shake the feeling that something terrible would come of this. Breath caught in his throat as his entire body tensed and he caught himself before he screamed like a mad fool. Instead he made a strangled sound, halfway between a muffled scream and a sob. And in that instant, between soberness and drunkness, between hangover and sleep he opened a slim blue hand and slapped himself across the face to jolt his body into some sort of awareness.:: Foster: Why are you so paranoid?! ::he yelled at himself in an impressively loud tone.:: ::The darkness had no answer.:: ::He cursed. He called out every deity he knew and threw foul words at them. He looked at the stars and called them names that would make his mother blush. Well, probably make her blush - he never knew her. He yelled and screamed at the walls until the reverberations made his antennae hurt. And when all was said and done he didn't feel any better than he had before he started. But his throat was sore. Here he was, over on year after his transfer and not much better healed than the day he set foot on the Apollo.:: Foster: ::Sinking to his knees:: I am stupid. I am so stupid... ::Both antennae perked up. There was footfalls outside. He frowned deeply - the bulkheads were pretty thick, meaning he had to have made a pretty good racket for someone to hear. Maybe they didn't hear. Maybe they were just wandering the halls...in the middle of the night... after a big tiring mission. The chime rang.:: Foster: ::Muttering under his breath:: I really am stupid... ::normal volume:: Who is it? Any: ? Foster: Nope, all fine in here. ::A blatant lie, but hey, it sounded convincing. Less so if one just heard his tirade, but Wyn was a decent actor.:: Any: ? ::He sighed. He had to admit something. Otherwise he seemed like a mad fool:: Foster: I'm a bit too drunk to be thinking straight and far too sober for my own good. Any: ? ::His brain screamed 'do not open the door!' But his heart screamed 'open the door, stupid!' Anyone standing outside a locked door for a conversation this long was someone who deserved a bit of recognition for that fact at the very least, if not an explanation. He sighed, and opened the door. Wyn was not quite as much of a mess as he felt. He was mostly put together. There was some smears on his white shirt from the quick emergency transport, and big dark navy rings under his eyes from a far too high dosage of alcohol inhibitor (which was wearing off..) but otherwise he was looking fairly normal.:: Foster: Hi. Welcome to my humble home. Any: ? ~*~ tags/tbc ~*~ Lt Commander Shar'Wyn Foster Chief Medical Officer USS Constitution-B "Why do we fly? Because we have dreamt of it for so long that we must" ~Julian Beck E239010ST0

((Bridge)) :: Hell had gotten loose on the Conny and the Bridge had heard about it last, which was a new one for Jalana. She now had to sort through events, make a plan and had asked Engineering to give them a diagram of the ship on the main screen, Dag had tinted in the areas without power, Caesar had added the areas affected of fires and gas leaks. That diagram lit up like a christmas tree. Jalana really hoped that these were the only areas, but that was hope, not knowledge. :: Rajel: Okay. We need to form a couple of teams. We know that the lifts can't reach these decks, so let's get as close as we can, and use the Jeffrey's tube for access. Since the ship own systems can't take care of the fires, we need manual extinguishers. Every team also needs flashlights and phaser on stun. It might be possible that these voices are intruders, though I hope they aren't. For communications we need walkie talkies, because Comm badges do not work. I'll keep one on the bridge to be sure there is a way for contact.Soriano: Are we the only one’s that will be doing the rescuing? Look how small our group is.Thea: Well, the other option is to stand here with our thumbs up our noses. I know which option I'd rather take. Rajel: I am sure that medical is sending people out. It might be worth to latch onto them, to have bundled efficiently. I'd like to have three or four teams to try and put out fires and get people out. Dag, I know you have all your hands full with trying to get things fixed. ::She looked to the guys on the bridge and smiled.:: Thea, Akoni, Caesar, care to have a walk in the dark?Soriano: I’m already on a ship out in the middle of the vastness of space so, ::she shrugged her shoulders:: Why not. Let’s do this!Thea: That's the spirit, Skippy. Let's do this. Hol: Yeah! Let's do this! :: When Caesar suddenly covered his ears, Jalana instinctively took a step forward to check on him, but the Counselor seemed to be already on it. :: Thea: What are you doing? Rajel: Are you alright, Caesar? ::She forced herself to stay back to not step on someone else's toes. :: Soriano: ?Hol: Seriously... You can't hear that.Rajel: Hear what? Soriano: ?Thea: No, that's exactly how they acted before they started running off and yelling.Hol: I've heard it before. Back in my marine days. Ah. Me and my men were attacked by something, we called it the Presence. It drove my men insane.Thea: Wait, whoah... you have heard this before? When? Where?!:: Jalana wondered if that thing could have been following him, but that would not make much sense. If there had been on board the whole time it would have shown any signs of presence before now. Maybe there was a 'Presence' on the Unity? Or something on the Unity tiggered this? :: Soriano/Hol: ?Thea: It could be a lead - but we need sane crew to investigate those leads. Soriano/Hol: ?Rajel: Agreed. So let's get your team ready so you can start getting that crew out of the dark areas. We should have the right tools in the suppy cupboard. ::She gestured in its direction and Thea headed right over to get whatever would be useful for them out of it. :: Thea: Two fire suppressants. Four handlamps, one medical kit, and four phasers. Anything I'm forgetting?:: Jalana wondered why she grabbed four phasers and it appeared that the Counselor assumed that Jalana would go with them. She smiled to herself. How much would she have liked to go with them. Rajel: No sounds good. Keep the fourth as a backup for whoever you find. I will have to remain here. As said you are not alone out there, we have a big ship with many people and I'll call out to form more teams. :: Ezirah walked up to them and handed each of them a walkie-talkie, apparently he had gotten those while the four had talked. :: Rajel: Thank you. Keep those with you and use them for contact while you are on the dark decks, communicators won't work down there. ::With that she turned hers on.:: Soriano/Hol: ?Thea: I ain't afraid of no ghosts... ::She proclaimed, grabbing her equipment and heading for the door.Hol: Who's gonna stay on the bridge? We can't leave the ship unmanned!:: Jalana almost laughed, but suppressed it.:: Rajel: Look around. We have 5 people here, apart from us four, also over 900 more crew members, two of them will come up as soon as you leave to take over your consoles. I would hardly calle that unmanned, Caesar. Don't you worry. We'll be fine. Dismissed.Thea/Soriano/Hol: ?:: She watched the team leave and placed the walkie talkie on the seat next to her own, where the Counselor or Medical Officer or whoever would help out without a console on the bridge would be seated. She raised a hand to brush over her forehead, a few fiery locks got tangled between her fingers. :: Ezirah: Sir, you should see that. :: She looked up to him and he gestured to the screen where she looked at one of the camera images. The person next to the camera wearer raised their arm and shot at Kalos. Well not directly at him, but only a little above at the wall behind him. She blinked. :: Rajel: Which camera is that?Ezirah: Doctor Milsap. :: Jalana's heart beat a little faster. :: Rajel: Who is the shooter?:: Apparently Jerry looked at the teammate. From what Jalana could see he was no Senior Officer, which was difficult with the helmet. So it had to be the security detail. :: Ezirah: Senior Chief Petty Officer Riyao, Security. Commander Fiorr does not appear to be hurt.:: Jalana nodded slightly, relieved to hear that. A cold shiver ran over her back, as if someone had dragged down the thermostat on the bridge. For a brief moment she closed her eyes and exhaled. As she opened them again she stared into the blackness of a non visible face under a black hooded figure staring her right into the face. She yelped and fell backwards onto her chair, seeing that it was not just a black hood but a robe, floor long and tattered. :: Voice: They will be mine. :: The throaty voice rattled like a bunch of marbles in a metal can. Jalana had frozen up on her seat, unable to move and the cold seeped through every cell of her body, making it hard to breath. She did not have to be terran to recognize the Grim Reaper. She tried to speak but all strength had been soaked out of her body at the sight of the one thing she feared more than anything else. :: Ezirah: Ma'am? Ma'am are you alright? :: The El Aurian's voice came through, slowly like through many layers of cotton. She felt a touch and jumped in her seat with a scream. But it caused the image in front of her to change, from the black hooded faceless taker of lives to the worried expression on the quiet Intel Officer, whose curls dropped in front of his shoulders, framing the bronze face. :: Ezirah: Are you alright, Ma'am?:: Jalana looked around, officers from all stations either looked over to her in confusion, or tried very hard to look away. The viewscreen still showed the Unity, the camera image and the ship's diagram. Everything was normal, he was not here any more. :: Rajel: Yea... yeah I'm fine. It's nothing. Ezirah: Are you sure, Ma'am? ::She clearly saw that he doubted that. She lowered her voice so only he could hear it. :: Rajel: Did you see someone in front of me? Tall, black robes... Ezirah: No. Should I call for a Counselor or Medic to check on you? Rajel: They are busy with the trapped crew. But you could give me a medkit from the other panel. :: The Intel officer didn't wait a beat, before he headed right there and came back with the medkit just a moment later and went back to his console, though she felt that he kept checking on her. As she opened it, she saw the vials of drugs, that could easily help her to calm down. Her fingers slightly shook as she forced herself not to use either. It was so tempting, so easy. Just like back then, suppress, calm down, don't think. No she had to keep a clear head. She hoped that he hadn't noticed her hesitation and quickly grabbed the Tricorder to check on herself. :: :: She leaned back and exhaled, her eyes fixed on the tricorder. Raised blood pressure, pulse is too high... ::She furrowed her brow.:: Increased brain activity. Thea had talked about people hearing voices, being spooked, hearing things. Caesar had heard something none of them had. Kalos had spoken of a voice in his head earlier. She had seen and heard the Grim Reaper... :: .oO What is going on here? Oo. TBC-----Captain Jalana RajelCommanding OfficerUSS Constitution BImage Team FacilitatorA238906JL0

((Unknown, Unknown)) ::He woke up with a jolt. He expected the bright light of the sickbay, surrounded by worried doctor and nurses, and the smell of the gas. But he didn't. He looked around, he was in a dream, it seemed. The white background started to materialise. It turned into a ship's bridge. He slowly took a step towards one of the consoles. The crew there couldn't see him, apparently. The Human Captain sat on his chair, facing the viewscreen intently. Chelin peered down at the console. He was on the Kyushu. The ship his dad had died on.:: ::There wasn't an Andorian on the bridge. Chelin started to breath heavily and fast walked to the screen. The Borg. Chelin realised, he was at the Battle of Wolf 359. The turbolift behind him opened up, and an Andorian figure stepped out. His hair was straight, eyes were gleaming. It looked as if he got into some trouble before he came here.:: Dad: Hello, Chelin. ::His head spun around, the Andorian knew his name and knew he was there!:: Chelin: H-hello..who are you? ::The Andorian walked over and placed both of his hands on Chelin's.:: Dad: I am your father, Chelin. ::A shot of anxiety and panic riddled Chelin's body. It can't be. He died 25 years ago. Died the same day Chelin was born. This was impossible.:: Chelin: No...it can't be! You died 25 years ago! ::Pain captured his voice, he felt betrayed.:: Dad: I am aware of that...::he let go of his shoulders:: Chelin: Why..only now? ::The question paralysed his father, stopping in his tracks in front of the Captain. He took a moment to take in the question.:: Dad: This was the right time. I hope you know that you are about to die. ::Chelin fell backwards. D-die..? Of falling down a deck and breathing in unknown fumes? Before another word came out, his father spoke first.:: Dad: You joined Starfleet. Chelin: ::Shaking the death thought out:: Yes, I did. ::A blast shook the ship, throwing officers to the floor. Chelin and his father were unfazed. The battle had just begun.:: Dad: Three different divisions in one family. I was in Engineering. Your brother in Command. You in Science. ::Was that necessary?:: Chelin: I am...aware of that. Dad: ::He nodded his head:: Good. ::One more blast shook the bridge, exploding some consoles. It was not real. Nothing in this dream was real. But it felt real.:: Chelin: Where will you be, right now? ::The question was left hanging as the bridge combusted into flames. Consoles were breaking apart, officers were flung out of their seats, the vacuum of space exposed itself. The Captain tried to pilot the ship himself, surviving the blast. It did not last long, until a ray of light enveloped the bridge.:: ::The setting was white again, this time around he was alone.:: Chelin: Anyone there?! ::echo:: ::He squat down to feel the floor. Nothing. Plain, simple floor. Immediately the background materialised. He faced a stage, an Admiral held about 10 pieces of papers. In front of the stage, the banner read 'Battle of Wolf 359 Memoriam".:: ::The birds were chirping, the San Fransisco Bay water soothly crashing against the wall. The Golden Gate Bridge stands like a mighty king. The memoriam appeared to be attended by hundreds and hundreds of grieving civilians. Seats extended all the way to the back. That's when he spotted Andorians among them. Surely, there were other Andorians grieving for their lost ones. But Chelin was sure it was his mother, holding himself, alongside his elder brother.:: ::The Admiral was reading names, of the lost ones to the Borg cube, destroyed by the Enterprise above orbit of Earth. Each name mentioned, sounds of crying and weeping here heard.:: Admiral: Charon Ch'Gabor, Engineering Officer, USS Kyushu. ::A mildly loud cry could be heard, his mother. Chelin himself felt like breaking down. It was like losing another parent, in spite of losing already one. He tried to conceal the tears, failing miserably at it.:: Dad: How do you feel, Chelin? ::He appeared right next to him, as the Admiral read more names.:: Chelin: ::Chocking on his tears:: Dreadful. Sad. Emotionally-scarred. Dad: That was how your mother felt, after losing me. You take from her. ::Soon, the San Fransisco view disappeared and the white background surfaced again. Still crying, Chelin started getting agitated. What was the purpose?!:: Chelin: ::Wanting to shout, but chocking:: What does this mean?!? ::There wasn't any answer. He sat on the empty floor, unsure of his next move.:: Dad: Nobody wants you to die, Chelin. ::Once again, he reappeared.:: Dad: Your mother can't take another loss. Your brother does not have the guts to take care of her, if she gets emotionally scarred again. She will go crazy. Goodbye, son. ::Nothing else. He didn't felt like he was dying. But whatever the fall gave him, it must have hurt himself a lot.:: oO I'm not ready to die, just yet. Oo TBC Ens. Chelin Ch'Gabor Science Officer USS Constitution-B C239212CC0

((Space - The Final ... oh you know.))::There was a static crackle and a burst of white light just before everything went dark.Very, very dark. It was light all light in the universe had turned off. Dark and silent. No power, no movement, no sound.Mark Two let his jaw loll open feeling a shiver run up his holographic spine. Where was he? He waited a few seconds, straining his ears to listen. Nothing. He expected Doctor Foster to be barking orders by now, or at the very least someone talking about what was going on. Maybe they were all waiting for someone else to speak?He waited... and waited. He drew in a breath that he didn't need, and finally screwed up the courage to speak::Mark Two: Hey... guys?::Silence.A rush of panic hit Mark square in the chest, radiating out to his fingers and toes. Were they hurt? Unconscious? Dead?::Mark Two: Doctor Foster? Doc Milsap? Mr. Nijil? ::he called out, voice wavering:: Are you guys OK?::Nothing.Mark stumbled forward, rushing blindly in the direction he last remembered them, hands out to prevent himself from crashing into anything in his way.But he hit nothing. He waved his hands, searching for the wall he knew was there, the doorframe, the dropped medical supplies.Nothing. He couldn't even feel the floor. How was he standing? He didn't know.::Mark Two: ::With a gasp:: I've gone insubstantial! ::Shouting:: Doctor Foster! Doctor Milsap! Doctor Nijil! Can you hear me?!::Nothing.Pause. A gasp in the darkness.::Mark Two: ::He perked his head up, blue eyes wide. A tiny glimmer of hope welled in his electronic heart:: Hello?! CAN YOU HEAR ME?::Silence.Silence...::Voice: ::Tiny:: help me.::The breath he didn't need caught n his throat - a reaction of memory rather than necessity.::Mark Two: Where are you? Are you OK?Voice: help me.::Mark whirled around, stumbling sideways, trying to get closer to the sound::Mark Two: How do I help you? Who are you?Voice: help me.::No matter which way he went, he couldn't get any closer to it, consistently a whisper on the wind.::Mark Two: Are you injured?Voice: help me.::Mark knit his brows together, thoroughly confused. It was like talking to a broken record. He grit his teeth and tried something different.::Mark Two: The other voice said 'they are coming.' Are they coming for you?Voice: ::There was a pause. no answer.::Mark Two: Are you scared of them?::Another pause, this one felt ominous as the air around him grew cold.::Voice: ::Still tiny:: I am them.::Mark closed his eyes and frozen in place, silently screaming in the impenetrable dark.::~*~tbc...~*~pNPC Mark TwoEmergency Medical Hologram Mark IIUSS Constitution-BSimmed by: Wyn Foster

Congrats and welcome to the best fleet! Hope you have tons of fun

Welcome to the fleet!

(( Interrogation Room - Deck 28 - USS Constitution-B )) :: Thomas Prendar loved the initial quiet of the interrogation room. It was a solid gray room, with no windows (as a nearby holo-projector provided security a view in) and there was simply two chairs facing each other. Prendar especially had the table removed so that his next interrogation had nothing between him and the SFI officer to subconsciously hide behind. :: :: The door shifted open and he saw Lieutenant JG Jerome Milsap enter. :: Prendar: Mister Milsap. Please have a seat. :: Jerry stepped uncertainly to the empty chair, taking in the surroundings as he did. It certainly fit the general idea of an interrogation room. He sat down and reached for the banjo slung across his back. :: :: Thomas’ eyebrows slowly went up as he saw the banjo on the man’s back and that he was reaching for it. :: Prendar: oO What...the...hell? Oo Milsap: Don’t mind if I do. :: He waited for the man to sit down, but before he could get situated, Prendar barked out his first question. :: Prendar: So, do you want confess now or give me a hard time and confess later? :: Jerry jumped in his seat, shock written across his face. :: Milsap: All right, all right! I’ll talk! Prendar: Good. Talk! :: Jerry pulled the banjo from his back in cradled it over his knee, hanging his head with a shamed expression. :: :: It took every ounce of control the man had not to burst into laughter. He had thought he saw everything, but this proved him wrong. :: Milsap: I...I snuck a kiss from Charlotte Mason in third grade. ::He looked up earnestly.:: But only once! Prendar: ::chuckling and looking at the PADD. :: You sure? The file says twice. Milsap: You know, I thought it seemed odd for SFI to come all this way just for that. So what is this about? Prendar: It’s about your mission. I need you to explain to me why you violated the Temporal Prime Directive. Milsap: ::nodding:: Now that makes more sense. I imagine you want to make sure we didn’t mess anything up back then. Prendar: Make sure? Oh, I know you screwed things up. I want to find out who is responsible and deal with them. Milsap: Good, that’s why I brought Mariah here. ::He gingerly patted the top of the banjo.:: She’s gonn help me tell you exactly what went on. Now let’s see…I believe I’ll call it “We Shouldn’t Even Be Here”. ::Jerry cleared his throat, picked up the banjo and started strumming a lively bluegrass melody, bobbing his head in time. When the melody cycled through and began again he started in with some lyrics. :: Milsap: Well, the Constitution was a-makin' her rounds, surveyin' Talos, seein' what could be found When she ran into somethin' we'd never seen before (well, most of us anyway). It chewed her up and spat her out at Earth, and though we had our doubts We found ourselves on the eve of the first world war. At first the only thing we knew was that we had to get back through But the first trip darn near broke Ol' Conny's back. Then we learned things down below weren't goin' the way they's supposed to go And someone had to get history back on track. We traveled through a hole in space and wound up back in time And only we know how to set things right, for what it's worth. We shouldn't even be here, but seein' as we are We might as well do what we can to fix things down on Earth. The warp drive doesn't run on dreams so we split the crew up into teams To patch things up before the core was spent. One went to China to find supplies and they managed to do it, to no one's surprise But I wasn't there, so you'd have to ask them how it went. Now, Starfleet says "Don't interfere!" and that's easy to say when you're safe back here But in a situation like ours, well whadda ya do? Can't call for help, no ships to be found, all we could do was either beam folks down Or just orbit the moon for a century or two. Ol' Connys in some dire shape, her life is fadin' fast Her hull is gonna break up and her power's gonna drain. We shouldn't even be here, but seein' as we are Instead of whinin' that she's broke, let's make her run again! :: Jerry stopped his strumming and leaned in toward Prendar. :: Milsap: Now here’s where I come in. :: He winked and picked up the melody again. Milsap: I was nervous as a man can be when Danzia, Rajel, T'Mar and me Beamed down just as the war was set to begin. I never learned what was to blame but somethin' threw off the transporter's aim And we wound up pretty darn far from Berlin. We saw a horseman nearly die, he turned out to be this Princip guy Who played a major part in those events. We knew we had to fix his head and get him in a biobed So up into the ship's sickbay he went. The medics made sure he was stable and sedated him so he wasn't able To recall any details 'bout the place. And it must have worked 'cause last I looked there weren't no mention in the history book Of Princip bein' beamed up into space. Just when we thought we had it made the Kaiser showed up for a parade, We had to make it so he stayed away. We slipped a potion in his food and at the risk of sounding crude It kept him on the crapper all next day. We found a glitch in history that just might stop the Earth Becoming Federation in a couple hundred years. We shouldn't even be here, but seein' as we are We'll fix things up so no one even knows that we were here. :: Jerry thought about the rumors he'd heard on his way to the interview. He'd picked up on the words "Rajel" and "confined" and could pretty much guess the intelligence officers were giving Jalana a raw deal, likely with others not far behind. Now that he was near the end of the story, he scrounged up the indignation he'd been suppressing and channeled it into the song, adding a subtle edge to the final verses. :: Of course we never planned to go, we didn't have much say in it, though And we might wish someone else had fit the bill But let me ask you something brother, wish in one hand and crap in the other And you tell me which one's the first to fill! Goin' back in time? Y'all might forbid it, but the present's whole because we did it And I can't see anything that we did wrong. If Rajel and the crew'd just let things be, you wouldn't be sittin' across from me And I wouldn't be here to pick out this here song! But SFI is puttin' Constitution's crew on trial, Why don't we lay this nonsense inquisition down to rest? We shouldn't even be here, but seein' as we are Let's just agree that everything has worked out for the best. Instead of puttin' Jalana in jail, y'all should thank her for savin' your tail! It's 'cause of her that everything has worked out for the best! :: As the last strains of the banjo and singing faded in the empty, gray colored room. Prendar just stared at the man. Finally, he spoke. :: Prendar: Get out, Mister Milsap. Now. Milsap: ::smiling:: Don’t mind if I do. :: Jerry grabbed his banjo by the neck and sauntered to the door. He didn’t know if his performance actually helped anyone, but he was confident he’d at least done what he could to clear up the situation. :: ~tbc~ Joint Post By…. Commander Thomas Prendar Lead Investigator Starfleet Intelligence As Simmed by… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Colonel Nugra Marine Commanding Officer USS Doyle-A, NCC-980221-B Deputy Commandant Captain's Council Magistrate V238008N10 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ & Lieutenant JG Jerome Milsap Assistant Chief Medical Officer USS Constitution-B C239208JM01

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