Theo Whittaker

Hello and welcome to the fleet! I'm Mikey and I'm from Nottingham in the UK!

*((Bridge - USS Albion))* ::The last few minutes had been probably the most terrifying of the Gorns career. The Albion, scarred and battered suddenly face to face with a pristeen, technologically advanced Warbird and it's subsequent weapons lock had almost turned his scales white. A warning probably, not to chase and not to poke them… just let them drift away. If they had wanted the Albion shattered then there was not a [...]ed thing any of them could have done about it. A single volley to the hull and that would have been the end of that. But with their usual Romulan unknown motivations they disappeared, warping away out of the Albions primitive net after stealing the traitor and into the unknown as soon as they could get their cloak back online. What would come of the Captain who had betrayed Starfleet? Either way, if the Romulans knew what he was planning to do the likelihood of him every coming back alive was negligible at best. Interrogation and execution was likely to be the order of the day, a wanton criminal with the knowledge of an experienced Starfleet captain now a plaything for interrogators with a reputation for getting results. His anger and vengeance was now going to do nothing to save him, Tatash could only hope he chose the honorable way out, at the end of his belt from a prison cell bar or the barrel of a disruptor trying to escape. Was it a deserved punishment? If the Albion had hauled him back, would his punishment be fitting? If he was a Gorn Captain, his betrayal would have already resulted in him (not to mention his crew) executed and tossed out of the airlock. Starfleet would probably assign him to a penal colony, hoping to rehabilitate rather than condemn, to softly pick apart the reasons for his turn coating before shipping him off to some laughable 'penal colony'. That, in the eyes of Tatash, was not justice for the crewmen and women in Engineering who had been killed or the thousands of civilians so painfully close to a terrible death. So he felt a grim satisfaction, a macabre sense of completion at least residing in his mind. Let the Romulans have him, let them pick him apart like the birds of prey they idolize, vultures swarming a dead husk of a former man of respect. Anything else would have been too easy a price for a traitor to pay.:: *Taybrim*: Commander Falcon, bring us within transporter range of the Valdis colony so we can beam down the medicine, and then plot a course back to the Tribal. ::He snapped back into the room as the Commander spoke, eyes flicking over to the helm:: *Falcon*: ? *Taybrim*: It will be a short drop off. We're not staying for dinner. ::He shook his head at the planet hanging on the viewscreen. He had enough of Romulans for this day as well.:: *Falcon*: ? *Taybrim*: Mr. Vondaryan, contact Starfleet intel - let them know what you got from the Stormcrow and give them a heads up on what happened with Haz Arrhimen. I have a feeling they will be very interested to hear your report. ::That was an understatement, if anything he could just picture a sea of blackshirts suddenly flailing their arms at this screw up. Justice aside, he knew a lot, enough to cause a storm of changing access codes and any tactical plans he had access too:: *Vondaryan*: ? ::The Commanders eyes rested on him now, forcing himself to stand more upright as his back strained in protest. Despite Malcolm's wizardry, he was still wounded. Rest, a few more visits to sickbay to be patched up properly rather then the battlefield kit on his back were needed:: *Taybrim*: Do we have enough power to tow the Tribal? *Tatash*: Not yet, but I'm pretty sure the best engineer in the fleet can fix that? ::He managed a strained smile to Theo, doing his best to hide the pain on his face. Out of anyone, the person he'd last like to see him suffering was his closest friend:: *Whittaker*: ? *Taybrim*: If we don't there are other ships on patrol. They're outside the neutral zone, so technically we can hang out there for as long as we like. ::He tapped a claw on his map suite, dragging it back to where the Tribal was located and nodding approvingly at the roundal of a friendly ship heading into the area:: *Tatash*: if we time it right we have a Galaxy class passing through that area as well, they might be able to escort us back. *Whittaker*: ? *Taybrim*: ::He nodded, satisfied with that answer:: Ok, let's get medicine delivered, go rescue our friends and go home. I want everyone to get some rest on the way back. *Tatash*: Yes Sir. ::Rest... it had been barely a few hours for the whole drama to play out, but he was exhausted. He'd not tried to lay down or even sit after the explosion tore him to ribbons, but despite the pain it was going to cause, he could think of nothing he wanted more:: *Bridge (any*): ? ~~ Lt Tatash Tactical Officer SB118 Ops C239108T10