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  1. ((Starbase 118 - CR Center 3)) (( A few days after returning to base)) ::T’kar was a reasonable man. It was part of what had led to him being given the role he had - Crisis Response required one to be cool headed and efficient in the direst of circumstances as well as able to handle people who were panicked, injured, or otherwise compromised. He was not a councillor, however, and he reflected somewhat glumly on this fact as he looked at the boy in front of him. The Orion incident was some weeks ago now. The kidnapped crew had been returned safely, the ship impounded and searched top to bottom, and any contraband confiscated. That’d included the slaves found aboard. For the most part the slaves had been cooperative. Most were simply scared and relieved to be saved. Others were quiet and unsure of themselves, as if waiting for the Orions to return for them the moment they grasped at hope. This one, however, as different. They’d had to strap him to the exam table. He’d attacked the officers who found him on board and even when he was quiet, his yellow eyes watched them all, waiting. One of T’Kar’s colleagues had described the boy like an abused dog, attacking out of fear. The boy was watching him silently as T’Kar tapped his commbadge. His reasonable, cool approach seemed useless. The boy barely understood basic, much less logic. T’Kar: =/\= Ensign Kasun? I would like to speak to you in CR Center 3, if your schedule allows. =/\= Kasun: =/\= I can be there in a few minutes. =/\= T’Kar: =/\= Understood. I will see you shortly. =/\= ((Time Jump)) :: Ishani hurried to Center 3. If T’Kar was calling her it was most likely about the now former Orion slaves they had rescued a few months ago with their crewmates. She had assigned T’Kar to head up their recovery. Quinn and Vaeden were both great with traumatized people, but given how deep the the wounds ran in in this case she felt it was best to have someone with more specialized knowledge coordinating things. :: Kasun: :: Arriving promptly at her destination she nodded towards T’Kar. :: Ensign T’Kar, you wished to speak to me? T’Kar: Yes, sir. I’m afraid one of the slaves recovered from the Orions is proving...difficult. ::The Vulcan looked perturbed for a moment. Frustration was a universal emotion, despite the teachings he followed.:: My techniques are not effective. Kasun: :: Ishani raised an eyebrow in surprise. :: Really? ::pause:: Where is he? T’Kar: He’s over here. ::The Vulcan led her to the Center’s medbay. The boy that lay strapped to the table was a sight - small and covered in fur, he looked somewhat like a more humanoid Caitian. His claws were long and sharp but disproportionate to his small hands, the claws on his feet the same. A cat’s tail thrashed angrily as he tugged at the restraints. When he saw them enter he turned his head, revealing big yellow cat eyes and large fanged teeth. His fur was black and brown, and a large Orion brand had been burned onto his face. He made a sound, a sort of sharp hiss, but stopped struggling and watched them cautiously.:: T’Kar: They found him under a bed in the personnel quarters. He’s.. ::It was odd to see a Vulcan trail off, but T’Kar did as he considered his description.:: Difficult. We’ve been unable to convince him we don’t mean to harm him. We tried putting him with his fellows, but the result was much the same. :: Ishani frowned as she analyzed the boy’s behavior. Wary, untrusting, hyper alert, and more than a bit animalistic. Whether it was because of or merely enhanced by his catish features she wasn’t certain, but he did bring to mind her trip to an animal shelter many years ago to adopt a pair of cats. The facilities had been more than adequate, the employees clearly cared deeply for their charges, but some of the animals had clearly seen hell. Wary and untrusting, just like the boy in front of her now. :: Kasun: I see. T’Kar: I admit I am unsure how to proceed. Kasun: Does he have a name? T’Kar: He answers to Sebok. Kasun: :: She glanced up at T’Kar and then back at the boy. :: Sebok. :: Sebok watched her like a hawk as she approached, bearing his teeth when she got to the bedside. Up close he was quite small, his short form wiry and lean. Muscle was stretched over his bones with little to no flesh between. His age was hard to determine. He had both the features of an adult and a child, and his cat like features didn’t match the obvious guess of Caitian.:: Kasun: Hello, Sebok. I’m Ishani. ::He didn’t respond, but kept his eyes locked on her.:: Kasun: How are you feeling? Sebok: ::He laughed dryly and spoke in Orion, his tone clipped and a bit raspy.:: Let me up from this table and we’ll find out, n’wah. ::He didn’t seem to expect she could understand him.:: Kasun: :: She frowned down at the boy. Ishani didn’t know what that last word meant but she could tell just by his tone alone that it was both very rude and probably a threat. :: I don’t think so. ::Sebok’s tail thrashed in frustration again. Now that there were two officers looking down at him, his gaze shot back and forth, unsure which of them he should be keeping his eye on. He chose Ishani.:: Sebok: Unstrap my hand and I’ll claw his eyes out. Kasun: oO Okay that one was definitely a threat. Oo :: Eyes narrowed, Ishani reached out and thumped him lightly on the top of the head with the side of her hand. :: We don’t say those things here. :: Ordinarily Ishani wouldn't stoop to violence with a patient unasked, though some of her previous clients had required it both emotionally and culturally in order to move on. But this kid was clearly used to the language of violence, it showed on his body and in his reactions, and words were not going to be enough. The boy looked almost comically surprised at that, the wind completely knocked out of his sails. T’Kar looked at Ishani in shock, but when Sebok sucked his breath in and got it back, he looked at her with a renewed sort of interest. Caution flickered on his face.:: T’Kar: Sir, what was - Kasun: Listen kid, the only way to get out of those restraints is to behave. ::Sebok took that moment to twap Ishani across the face with his tail. It wasn’t the least bit painful, but it was the only limb that could reach her.:: Kasun: :: She sneezed and grabbed his tail. :: You are not helping your case kid. Sebok: ::He laughed and coughed at the same time, looking at the ceiling.:: So the Federation women aren’t so different after all. ::His gaze settled on her again, calmer now. He sized her up.:: What exactly is it you want, you n’wah? Kasun: :: She watch him carefully for a moment before answering. :: We want to help you. To give you a better life than being a slave. Sebok: I bet! I know you Federation, always thinking you know best. Think your little hug circle’s beyond things like slavery and murder, do you? That what you have to offer? A better life? ::He spat and hit T’Kar on the leg.:: Sebok: Where y’gonna put me? You gonna get me a job? Train me to fly a garbage scow for latium shavings and then pat your backs about what good work you do? ::He sneered.:: You lot haven’t experienced a bad day in your lives. Kasun: :: Ishani closed her eyes and flashed back to being captured by Khante, to the floating frozen corpses of the Avalon’s crew, to the scorch mark where Dovak had been not a moment before whole and healthy. She opened them and stared straight into Sebok’s eyes. :: You’re wrong about that. Sebok: Really? ::He leaned forward as much as he could.:: You ever killed someone, missus? Ever killed someone ‘cause it was you or him? Ever licked the blood off of you ‘cause it was all you were going to eat that day? ::He slumped back to the table.:: Sebok: You don’t know where or what I’ve been. You don’t know shi- Kasun: Do you want to go back to being a slave? :: Her tone was cold and sharp. Sebok wanted a reaction and she would give him one, though it probably wasn’t the one he wanted. :: Do you want to go back to having no food, to being beaten, to kill others for your own survival? Because despite your tough guy act, I doubt you do. ::He watched her in silence. T’Kar looked between the two.:: T’Kar: Ensign, perhaps we should sed- Sebok: Shut up, you point-eared git. ::T’Kar didn’t speak Orion, but the boy’s tone made whatever he’d said clear enough.:: You, woman. Is she dead? Kasun: Who? Sebok: Khante! Is she dead? Kasun: Yes. Sebok: ::He slumped suddenly, not bothering to hide relief - and trepidation. He didn’t seem to know what to make of this news.:: I hope she suffered. I hope she bled. Kasun: :: dryly :: Oh that she did. oO Commander Falcon certainly made sure of that. Oo Ensign Ishani Kasun MD, PhD Crisis Response Unit Starbase 118 Ops O239306IK0 & PNPC Sebok Simmed by Lieutenant JG Taelon Science Officer Starbase 118 OPs O239303T10
  2. (( Main Shuttlebay 2 )) ::Mirra made her way back to the away team, noticing that Ishani seemed to be holding her own with some evasive maneuvers as a medic was trying diligently to get her to lay down for transport.:: Ezo: ::gently:: Ishani..? You're going to have to let us clear you for duty... Kasun: :: She stopped and turned to face Mirra which allowed the medic to grab her wrists. :: I’m fine. :: Ishani’s words were said carefully and without slurring for once, but her eyes were dilated and she was still struggling to keep her balance. :: Ezo: And I absolutely believe you...but you've still got to let us check you out... Kasun: No you don’t. :: She huffed and tried to pull her arm out of the other medic’s grip, which nearly sent her toppling sideways. This time at least, she caught herself using the poor medic as a railing. :: ::Cradling her face in her palm for a moment, Mirra would never cease to be amazed at the absolute stubbornness of Starfleet officers. Glancing around, she realized that Ishani had a distinct height advantage over her, and if she attempted to escort her to Sickbay, they'd topple over. If the gurney was out...and Tyler had already left..there was only one last option.:: Ezo: ::tapping her commbadge:: =/\= Ezo to Lt. Kro Kro: =/\= Lt. Kro here. Ezo: =/\= I need you in Shuttlebay 2 to assist getting more officers to Sickbay. Kro: =/\= You can count on us, Doctor. We will see you shortly. Ezo:=/\= Great. See you soon, Ezo out. =/\= Kasun: Crow? ::She blinked blearily at Mirra. Her thoughts were so fuzzy. :: Why are you calling a bird? Ezo: ::shaking her head:: Not a bird, a Marine. A very big Marine... Kasun: Oh. Ezo: ::smirking:: Yeah, "Oh". Go ahead and tell him that you're just fine.... (( Time Jump)) ::Ishani had since stopped fighting against Mirra and was now focusing all her energy on staying upright. It had been a rather unsuccessful endeavor, several times Mirra had needed to grab her arm to steady her. The wonderful drugs one of the medics had actually managed to get into her had finally kicked in, rendering her once horrendous, dizzying headache a mere footnote in this whole affair. She was no longer as confused as she had been earlier, but her thinking was still somewhat disorganized and her normal filter of professionalism was completely and utterly gone. :: Kasun: :: She stared openly at the very massive marine headed towards them. :: That’s a lot of beefcake. ::Mirra nearly drew blood with how hard her teeth clamped down on her cheek to keep the laughter in check. Yes, Lt. Kro was a rather large, muscly Marine, but she was a professional. She would.not.giggle...in public at least.:: Kro: Reporting as requested, Doctor. Ezo:Ensign Kasun has declined to be wheeled to Sickbay via gurney, but her concussion renders her ability to walk a bit...wobbly. Would you mind escorting her for observation please? ::Kro looked at her and tried to look warm and comforting. Ishani merely smiled widely in return. :: Kro: It would be my pleasure. We will have you to Sickbay in no time Ensign. How well can you stand? Kasun: :: Still smiling widely. :: Stand? Ezo: ::grumbling:: And therein lies our problem Liuetenant... Kro: Oh I see....::With a slight grimace of worry:: I think you had better let me handle the walking.... Kasun: Uh huh. :: She nodded eagerly. :: I bet you walk well. ::Mirra didn't bother to check the grin that broke across her face as she locked her eyes with the overly qualified Lt. Kro being roped into carrying duty. She shrugged her shoulders ad raised an eyebrow as if to say, "Head injuries, am I right?" and watched with no small amount of amusement as the large Marine scooped up Ishani as if she was a small child. She waved them off as they made their way to the exit.:: ::Without hesitation, the Tandaran ducked under Ishani’s arm and scooped her up without effort. He gave a nod to the Doctor and promptly made for the exit.:: Kasun: :: Ishani was enjoying herself immensely despite her disorientation. It had been ages since she had last been carried around like this by someone this good looking, and she was going to take full advantage of the opportunity. .:: Dun worry about hurrying. Dr. Ezo’s being fussy. Kro: ::A warm smile:: Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast. Kasun: Yeah. :: She nodded, not really understanding him. :: You’re big. :: She patted his chest. :: And hard. :: Pause :: Your candle must be huge. Kro: ::Looking perplexed.:: I'm...not sure I follow your meaning. Kasun: You’re big. :: She tried to gesture but only managed to smack Kro in the upper chest. :: You must be big like all over. ::Before he could reply, the Captain's voice echoed ominously through the corridor.:: Taybrim: =/\= Captain to all crew; evacuate decks ten through nineteen. I want all crew under the protection of the primary hull. Repeat, evacuate the shuttlebay, docking controls and secondary engineering areas.=/\= Kro: On second thought, I think running fast might be the wiser choice. Hold on! ::Holding her closer, the Tandaran sprinted for all he was worth. :: Kasun: Yeah. :: She sighed and leaned into his chest. :: Blowing up is bad. Who would take my cats? :: She slid her arms around his neck. For better stability of course. :: Kro: Nothing you will have to worry about. ::The Ensign's arms wrapping more tightly around him, he spared her a glance of concern as the pair rounded a corner. Not that he minded...:: Kro: Are you holding on alright Ensign? Kasun: ::She idly waved off his concern and slid her arm back around his neck. :: Yep I’m fine. :: She snuggled closer. :: Just fine. ::She nuzzled her face into his chest. :: Mmmmm. Kro: Worry not, your hardship is nearly at an end. :: Ishani looked up from Kro’s very nice chest (he looked very fetching in green) and spotted the entrance Albion’s sick bay looming with several medics hovering around the door looking at them. Mirra had no doubt commed ahead to warn her underlings of their incoming arrival. She pouted at the medics then sighed in disappointment.:: Kasun: :: Muttering. :: Fun ruiners. :: She batted her eyelashes and lowered her voice. :: Do you think they’ll let you tuck me in? ::Kro admitted a laugh as he located an empty bio bed and marched toward it, setting Kasun gently down. He caught a few glances from those passing, apparently laughter was somewhat out of place today.:: Kro: ::Grinning:: As you wish. Ensign Ishani Kasun MD, PhD Crisis Response Unit Starbase 118 Ops O239306IK0
  3. ((Bridge - USS Albion)) ::Power flickered back to the computer console with an electronic groan. Like the battered crew of the Albion, the computer systems were equally unwilling to respond. Fortunately this was a low power profile program; flashing up as a simple text message on the screen. Sal took a step back, standing side by side with Antero and Theo. The three of them together; ready to do the thing a Starfleet captain hopes to never have to do. He glanced at both of them, gave a dry swallow and spoke up.:: Taybrim: Computer, this is Captain Sal Taybrim, requesting security access ::The computer beeped a simple acknowledgement:: Taybrim: Computer… ::He paused feeling the breath in his throat choke a little as he uttered the legendary code. It had changed for newer ships, but the Albion was from a bygone era and her final order retained the classic sequence:: Destruct sequence one. Code one, one A. ::The words flashed up on the screen in simple text. Sal looked towards Theo meaningfully. He could feel the emotions welling up from the engineer as he was set to do the thing that was most anathema to an engineer: destroy the ship that he fought so hard to protect.:: :: Putting aside the conflicting feelings swirling around in his mind, Theo spoke in an even tone. :: Whittaker: Computer this is Lieutenant Commander Theo Whittaker, Executive Office. Destruct sequence two. Code one, one A, two B. ::Again the computer flashed the code up as simple stark text.:: ::Eyes on him, Antero swallowed hard and offered the two men a solemn nod. He placed a hand on a nearby console, a small goodbye. The Albion had been good to them, and to say that he had not grown attached to the old girl would be a lie..:: Flynn: ::His voice hollow:: Computer., This is Lieutenant Antero Flynn, Chief Helm Officer. Destruct sequence three. Code one B, two B, three... ::The computer acknowledged immediately as three little words popped up on the display. Destruct Sequence Engaged.:: Computer: ::The voice was faint, and yet it cut through the darkness with a terrible pitch:: Destruct sequence completed and engaged. Awaiting final code for one minute countdown. ::Sal closed his eyes momentarily and spoke with a deep heavy-hearted confidence:: Taybrim: Code zero… zero… zero… destruct… ::One last breath. There was no going back from here:: ...zero. Computer: Destruct sequence is activated. Whittaker: Well…. there we go. :: looking around the darkened bridge…. What was left of it. :: Goodbye, ship. ::Sal moved towards the command chair and put his hand on the back. There was enough time for a few moments of sentiment, before the transporter beam would whisk them away. He looked up for a few long seconds. If he had to destroy a ship, at least she fell saving thousands of lives, preventing war and saving a quadrant. And at least she was sent off by two of the finest officers Sal ever had the pleasure of serving with.:: Taybrim: I will miss the old girl. ::He offered as the computer started a quiet countdown.:: Flynn: ::His voice calm, solemn.:: She was true to the end, wasn’t she? Taybrim: She was. ::He offered a silent nod of agreement. HIs next words were quiet, hoarse:: Good bye, old girl. Whittaker: :: quietly, looking at Flynn and Taybrim :: I’ll see you on the other side. ((Observation port - S’Tarahk)) ::The transporter took them just as the last goodbye was uttered. There were placed by one of the observation ports, looking out as the seconds ticked down and the Albion was consumed in a controlled explosion, turning from charred steel to brilliantly burning gold.:: Taybrim: I’ll recommend to Starfleet that they honor her name. Maybe someday the Albion-A will fly back to StarBase 118. ::He mused, watching her crumble to ashes in the backdrop of the flaming nebula.:: Flynn: The Albion-A ::He smiled softly at the thought.:: As soon as they’re ready to trust us with another one. Whittaker :: wryly :: If they ever trust us. :: he looked to Taybrim, uncertainty clouding his eyes :: What now? ::A curious question - what ship would Starfleet send them, if any? StarBase 118 still had the Aegis, and there were plenty of ships in the sector that could serve if needed. Would they commission another ship to fill the gap?:: Taybrim: ::With a darkened humor:: With our luck we’ll get a freighter… Whittaker: :: Or a garbage scow. Taybrim: I’ll remember that. ::His buoyant humor faltered and he paused for a moment, saying nothing. He lay a hand on his officer’s shoulders - a silent show of support as the massive Klingon cruiser moved off into the black.:: ::Who knew was the future would bring?:: ~*~ A JP by: Lieutenant Antero Flynn Chief Helm Officer Starbase 118 Ops C239205AF0 And Lieutenant Commander Theo Whittaker Executive Officer Starbase 118 Operations C239203TW0 And Captain Sal Taybrim Commanding Officer StarBase 118 Ops E239010ST0
  4. ((USS Albion - Deck 18 - Main Shuttlebay 2)) ::Tyler and Mirra had found a moment of respite from what had been a day from hell. They both knew it was fleeting, as the battle was far from over. It always surprised him how just a few minutes with her could undo hours of stress and hardship and "reset" his mental state. Today, more than most, it was a very necessary thing.:: Kelly: I need to get back in the fight...::He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.:: But I promise, as soon as this is over, I'll find you. ::He paused.:: I love you, Mirra. ::He had gone with the more subtle peck on the cheek, not wanting to embarrass her as she went about her chiefly duties, but Mirra had other plans. She pulled him close and brought him into a longer, more passionate kiss. Like always, it sent waves of contentment and positivity radiating throughout his body.:: Ezo: ::releasing him:: I love you too. And you better come find me. Or I'll hunt you down. ::smirking:: Apparently I am quite scary...::grinning:: ::He leaned in conspiratorially, with a smirk.:: Kelly: Oh, yeah? ::He raised an eyebrow.:: I'll take my chances, I don't mind a little necessary roughness. ::She fixed him a with a [...] scowl and shooed him away playfully.:: Ezo: Yeah, yeah. Point taken. Don't you have a bad guy to hunt or something? ::At first her words brought a smile to his face, but gradually his expression hardened. The brief glimmer of happiness and hope had been a welcome respite from the reality of their situation, but they were still in dire straits.:: Kelly: Yeah, I d- ::His comm badge chirped, cutting him off mid-sentence.:: Taelon: =/\= Commander Kelly? =/\= ::He shrugged his shoulders and pointed at his badge in the universal "Sorry, but I've got to take this call" gesture and moved away.:: Kelly: =/\= Go for Kelly.=/\= ::The voice on the other end of the line sounded excited, maybe a little worried.:: Taelon: =/\= This is Ens - Lieutenant Taelon. I understand you’ve just come back but we need your help in the deck 15 weapons control room as soon as possible - can you make it there? =/\= ::He nodded as he spoke, despite the fact that Taleon couldn't see it. He began moving towards the Deck 15 at a jog.:: Kelly: =/\= I'm on my way. ::Beat:: What's going on?=/\= Taelon: =/\= The plan is to rig several torpedoes with a combination of their antimatter load and tri-cobalt and then detonate them at a careful point in the nebula, which should ignite it. But it seems the control teams are over taxed. Can you supervise? I’ve sent the needed schematics to the team on deck 15. ::He paused.:: We don’t have much time, b-but if you’ve any ideas for improvement on the layout, it’d be appreciated… =/\= ::Tyler's eyes went a bit wide at Taleon's explanation. He had gained extensive experience with conventional explosives throughout his career, he had even managed to become certified in Explosive Ordinace Disposal (E.O.D.), but this sounded anything but conventional. What he was describing would be some kind of anti-matter/nuclear fission hybrid explosion, Tyler could only guess at the magnitude but he knew it would be devastating.:: Kelly: =/\= I.. uh.. ::He stammered a little, flustered by the idea of what they were attempting.:: I'll see what I can do.:: ::He began running faster, wanting to get involved as soon as possible.:: Taelon: =/\= Thank you, Commander. The Captain wants this done as fast as possible...if possible…we’re really no longer than 5 minutes til deployment. =/\= ::Tyler's jaw would've dropped it wasn't huffing and puffing a bit as he ran to the control room at full speed. It was clear that Captain Taybrim wanted the Sienov gone, no matter the cost.:: Kelly:=/\= Understood. Kelly out.=/\= ((USS ALBION - DECK 15 - Torpedo Control Room)) ::Tyler had arrived at the control room, just before they closed the final panels on each of the modified torpedoes. Everyone was in a rush, weapons officers shouted status updates back and forth as the technicians tried frantically to calibrate the final settings on the monstrous weapons. He basically only had time to view Taleon's schematics and confirm that the Torpedoes matched what he was looking at. As he was staring down at one of the monstrously destructive devices, he felt a slight chill run down his spine. He wanted Arrhimen dead. Irrefutably, irrevocably, irrecoverably dead. And these torpedoes looked like they would do the job. The trouble was, even if the wounded Albion turned to limp away at best possible speed after launching, there was an uncomfortably high probability they'd take catastrophic damage as well. Images of the Avalon's frozen corpses came to his mind, of Tatash's destroyed fighter, of the destroyed colonies where Klingon civilians, families, children... had all lived. Arrhimen had killed all of them and would go on to kill countless more. He cleared his throat, fortifying his resolve for what might be the final time. He turned to the lead technician.:: Kelly: All clear, Crewman. ::He pointed to the torpedoes.:: Button them up and get them armed and loaded in the tubes. ::The technicians seemed a bit dazed. They began to slowly carefully lift the torpedo onto the rack. They knew what they were doing would have incredibly destructive results and Tyler could see that they were worried. He decided to offer a few choice words of encouragement.:: Kelly: QUICKLY! ::He smacked one of the torpedoes hard on it's casing resulting in a loud clang.:: As long as you built them right, and you better have, they won't go off accidentally! The Captain ordered us to be ready in five minutes and that was 4.5 minutes ago! ::He helped them heft the last torpedo onto the firing rack.:: See, that wasn't that hard. Taybrim: =/\= Kelly are you reading us? We need a good clean shot into the nebula to ignite it. This is all on you and Diego now...=/\=Beyett: =/\= ? ::A solemn look the weapons crewman nearby.:: Kelly: =/\= Understood. ::He pointed to the weapons officer, and motioned for him to get out of his chair, before planting himself in it.:: We're locked and loaded down here, awaiting your command. ::Tyler quickly tapped out the command that opened a full time two-way comm-link with the bridge.Taybrim: ::He felt the need to give one last reminder. His voice was calm, commanding, like a rock one could lean on.:: =/\=Captain to crew. In less than a minute we will ignite the nebula. There is no way we'll outrun the shockwave. We're in the best position to endure it - but I want you all to secure yourselves for impact. Decks 10-19 have thirty seconds to complete evacuation. Make your preparations.=/\= ::A momentary silence fell over the weapons room. They all knew they were on Deck 15, right in the middle of the decks to be evacuated, but they also knew they had a critical job to do. Tyler, understood exactly why those specific decks were being evacuated. They were going to reduce the shields coverage area to just the saucer. With a smaller coverage area, they could substantially increase the power of the shields. That, of course, meant the rest of the ship, including the deathly silent Torpedo control room on Deck 15 would be completely unshielded. It didn't matter. Arrhimen had to be stopped. The non-standard nature of the cobbled together torpedoes meant that someone had to be here to oversee the launch. Tyler kept his eyes on the display in front of him, ready to work his side of the torpedo launch at any second.:: Kelly: You heard the Captain! Get out of here, now! ::Several of the crewman and weapons officers immediately bolted, wasting no time in saving their own skins. The officer who was supposed to be on duty at the moment, an Andorian Lieutenant whose station Tyler was sitting in now, hesitated a moment. Tyler's eyes drifted up to a small holo-frame sitting on top of the console, showing an image of a female Andorian cradling a tiny antennaed baby with a warm smile on her face. The Lieutenant's voice broke the silence.:: Chiron: I'm... on duty..Sir. Protocol says that I cannot leave without relief.... ::Tyler snatched up the picture frame, and handed it back to Chiron. He glanced back momentarily at the Andorian. A look of surprise played across his face.:: Kelly: You're relieved. Go! ::He grumbled, not loud enough for the man to hear as he made his escape.:: Name your next kid after me or something... ::With Chiron gone, he was completely alone. The seconds stretched into hours as Tyler waited for the order to come through from the bridge. As he sat in the deafening silence of the torpedo room, his thoughts turned to his life. All that he had accomplished and all that he had failed. He thought of his mother, of his friends, and most of all about Mirra. He hoped with all of his heart that she was safely in sickbay, and not still in the shuttlebay with Avalon survivors. Suddenly, without warning, Taybrim's voice came over the open comm line.:: Taybrim: Beyett, Kelly: Fire! ::Tyler felt all of his muscles tense as he waited for Beyett to send the launch command.::Beyett:? ::Quickly, his fingers flew over the control panel. Firing, triggering the reloading procedure, firing again.:: Kelly: Confirmed. Firing. ::The machinery behind him thumped. One Away. ::Another thump.:: Two away. ::A final thump:: Three away. ::He watched on the viewscreen as the torpedoes streaked towards the nebula, trailing burning plasma as they went. He had the unshakable feeling that he was living the end of his story, that the massive flash he was about to see would be the closing image before they rolled the credits on his short and interesting life. From somewhere deep within the nebula, the torpedoes ignited one by one. Together the emitted a massive blinding flash that Tyler knew would have instantly blinded him if it wasn't filtered through the monitor he was viewing. As if on cue, the monitor winked out, apparently overloaded by the massive amount of ultraviolet energy that bombarded it.:: Kelly: oO Well, this is it, and I'm not even in uniform. Oo ::He looked down at the EVA suit he had never changed out of after the Avalon expedition. Instantly, he realized what that meant, and he bolted for the nearest replicator. All he needed was a helmet and... He recalled the pattern for his EVA helmet, and had just retrieved it when the Albion began to shake violently. The lights dimmed, then winked out. Red lights tried to come on, but flickered unsteadily as a sad alarm Klaxxon mewled like a dying cat. He managed to get his helmet on his head and locked in place just in time to be unceremoniously thrown across the room. He crashed into one of the walls of the small room, back first, before being thrown the opposite direction and then finally crumpling to the floor like a discarded ragdoll. The emergency lights flickered and then even they were out. Tyler's shoulder felt odd, and judging by the strange way his arm was hanging, it had been dislocated. Lying on the floor, Tyler groaned audibly to himself as he felt a variety of new and exciting pains across his battered body.:: Kelly: Urrrgh....god damn...Risian fly-boy...can't hold her steady for... uggh.... nothing... ::But as beat up as he felt, he wasn't dead. The explosion had come and gone and it seemed as though the Albion was still mostly intact. A wave of relief washed across him, after being so certain that he a was going to die, he couldn't believe that he'd survived. He began to laugh a little, crazily, for no good reason, each chuckle causing his battered (broken?) ribs to hurt. Then he heard something that stopped his laughter in it's tracks.:: COMPUTER: WARP CORE BREACH IMMINENT! ::KLAXXON:: WARP CORE BREACH IMMINENT! ::The sound was coming from somwhere far away, probably from a section of the deck that still had power. Struggling, Tyler got to his feet and began to do his best approximation of a run. He limped as fast as he could, knowing full well that he couldn't outrun a warp core breach. Still, he passed a dead turbolift and entered the maintenance ladder shaft. He climbed as fast as he could up towards the shielded section with his one good arm, but it was too late. He heard the "THUNK" of the warp core being ejected followed by the horrible metal rending sound of a massive section of the Albion's aft being torn away. Tyler hooked an arm through the ladder and turned to see the bulkhead behind him begin to tear away.:: Kelly: Oh shi- ::A tool box hit him in the back, knocking the wind out of him and cutting him off mid-word. He heard the sound of the Albion's oxygen being sucked past him as the tear in the hull got bigger. His grip on the ladder loosened as all manner of debris flew past him, battering him even further on it's way out into the vacuum beyond. He felt his fingers slipping off the ladder as he leaned quickly out of the way of an oncoming console that had been ripped free from the deck beyond. He risked a quick glance at the tear that had become a massive gaping hole in the secondary hull of the Albion. Then he felt his grip fail and shot out into space like a cork out of a wine bottle.:: TBC ======//////======>LtCmdr. Tyler KellySecurity OfficerSb118 OpsO238811CD0
  5. ((Dagorin VI - Underground Bunker)) :: Lazlo watched on the security monitors while Gaixor and Urian climbed out of the bunker and into the surrounding woods. He envied them in a way. Inaction didn't sit well with him, and he wished he could be out there with them, skulking through the trees and stalking their prey. He had eagerly left his office for a chance to get back out in the field, but instead found himself stuck in this backwoods bunker with no stealth suit large enough to fit him and the outside climate too cold for comfort even if he did. He frowned and grumbled to himself, much to the consternation of the nearby staff. Fear began to roll off of them in waves so strong he could nearly taste it, and he realized if he didn't get out of this place soon the underlings that ran it would face the brunt of his frustration. Suddenly his eyes snapped toward a nearby replicator. With a sly grin he approached the device and punched in an order for a warm coat in the largest size available. A few moments and a flash of light later he happily removed a dark green parka. His smile quickly faded, however, when he unfolded it and held it up to his body, finding that it was barely long enough cover his stomach. He tried to put it on but could not get it completely around his broad shoulders. He angrily spun on the nearest technician. :: Lazlo: THIS is the largest size of clothing this thing can make? :: The visible shaken technician stammered his reply. :: Technician: Y-y-yes, sir! Lazlo: Then MAKE IT create something BIGGER! Technician: S-s-sorry, sir! We don't h-h-have the ability to alter the replicator's p-p-programming from here. Lazlo: ::nodding:: I see. :: With a loud growl Lazlo held up the coat with a clawed hand on either side of the collar and tore it in half. The technician looked as if he couldn't decide whether to run or faint. :: Lazlo: Well, that won't help me. :: He managed to calm himself down and realized he needed to take drastic action if he wanted to avoid the paperwork he'd have to fill out for killing everyone in the bunker. He sat at one of the communication consoles and activated the sequence that would bounce his transmission all across the quadrant to prevent it from being traced. Soon he was face-to-face with his secretary. :: Brenda: Orion Syndicate secret lair, how can I...oh, it's you, Mr. Lazlo. :: Lazlo stared at the screen, stunned. :: Lazlo: Secret...Brenda, do you always answer calls like that? ::He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed heavily, waving his hand dismissively.:: Nevermind that. I need you to send me some warm clothing. This blasted place is so cold I'll fall asleep if I go outside. Brenda: ::blinking repeatedly:: Can't you replicate something there? Lazlo: ::angrily:: THEY DON'T ::deep calming breath:: they don't have my size. Brenda ::obviously holding back giggles:: I see, sir. I'll send you something from your closet. Lazlo: Thank you. And make sure the delivery is discrete, Starfleet has people snooping around the base. Brenda: Quiet as a mouse, sir. Anything else, sir? :: Lazlo thought for a moment. :: Lazlo: How is Riley doing? :: Brenda cast a quick glance over her shoulder to the office door. :: Brenda: Riley? He's, uh.... ((Inferna Prime, non-descript administration building)) :: Riley stretched out comfortably on the desktop of the dimly lit overseer's office, his bulbous eyes gazing over the shallow dish of merlot at his companion. The female slug-like creature lifted her feeding orifice from the dark red liquid with a slurp, then flattened her head to the desktop as if embarrassed. Riley's eyestalks sagged a bit and the female perked up, reassured. Pressing his advantage, Riley raised his left eyestalk to its full height while letting the other droop low. The female's stalks shot upward, then she pulled them close to the top of her head and curled up, turning her face away. :: Barry White: Never thought I'd find someone who'd blow my mind, yeah, like youuuuuuuuuu do.... :: Cautiously, the female turned back toward Riley, who waved his stalks slightly from side to side. The female turned away again, but this time not as far. She rotated her eyeballs to watch Riley, curious to see what he'd do next. :: Barry White: And never thought I'd see the day that it could be so truuuuuuuuuuuuue, yeah.... :: Riley confidently swayed his stalks to the left, then dropped them halfway to his head. The female turned to face him again. A splash of pink played across the sides of her gray head and she thrust her eyestalks forward, then slowly drew them back. Riley's eyestalks bobbed vigorously up and down and he inched his body forward, starting the long trip around the dish. :: ((Dagorin VI - Underground Bunker)) Lazlo: ::raising an eye ridge:: Yes? Brenda: ::smiling:: He's doing fine. Lazlo: Well, I'm glad to hear someone is. I'll be waiting for the clothes. :: Lazlo ended the call and turned his attention back to the external cameras in time to see Urian and Gaixor vanish into thin air. The lack of loud pops and viscera made him believe the suits were working as advertised, at least so far. All he could do now was sit and wait. :: MSNPC Lazlo Orion Syndicate Overseer Lieutenant Jerome Milsap Assistant Chief Medical Officer USS Constitution-B C239208JM01
  6. ((USS Albion - Trauma Room 1)) ::Having received the call that haunts the dreams of everyone in teal, Mirra sprinted as soon as the lift doors opened enough for her frame to slip through. She arrived through in Sickbay just moments after the mobile gurney. Stopping outside of the surgical ward, she hastily stripped her lab-coat and briskly walked through the bio-filters, finally to step into the room, arms outstretched. Within moments, she was scrubbed up and mask in place. Time to go. She listened intently while various members of the trauma unit called out numbers and codes. Having read the preliminary report, one would expect to be prepared for the scene in front of her. Blood was everywhere, fresh blood, pouring from a mangled, mass of muscle, bone and scale where his arm had once been. His uniform was being cut away at the same time that frantic actions were being taken to stem the bleed. Mirra fought hard against her emotional instinct that would bring her to her knees. It wasn't time for that, and she would be damned before she'd allow that be the final outcome. Steeling herself, she locked eyes with the Trauma team lead.:: Ezo: ::sharply:: Status report. Trauma Medic: We've got a massive bleed, as you can see. He's flatlined on us twice, we've had to intubate. Shrapnel is fused to his clothes causing removal to be halted. If we're not careful, we're going to strip his scales along with his uniform. Ezo: Understood. Be as careful as you can, but remember, we don't need him pretty, we need him breathing. ::Flatlined. Twice. She refused to dwell on that update any further. It had no room in her headspace, clouding things up and getting in the way of her work. Grasping the readied medical device, Mirra began to scan the arterial perforation caused by the violent loss of limb. She had barely begun the arduous task of repairing the perforation when the alarms blared.:: Nurse: He's going into shock! Ezo: ::glancing up to the readout:: Give me twenty units of blood, find an intact vein and get it flowing. ::Still engrossed in her task of stemming the massive blood flow, Mirra was keeping equal attention to his BPH readings. If they weren't careful, they shock of the tremendous loss of blood was going to take it's toll. She had to stop the bleeding. Nurse: Twenty units pumping, BPH is dropping, reflecting bradycardia. He's loosing more than we can pump in Doc. Ezo: ::gritting her teeth:: Keep it pumping, watch that cardiac monitor, and someone get me subdermal scalpel, now! ::The room was a flurry of hands, and moving bodies. The beeping kept getting slower, erratic, the bleeding wasn't stemming. It seemed his body was pumping out directly what they were desperately pumping in. Her eyes zeroed in on a secondary bleed, hidden by the first. Then another...and yet again, another. The force of which removed his arm had exposed a lot of what should be covered. Layers of scales and muscle were just...gone. Blood poured from deeper inside the ragged wound that was her current advisory.:: Ezo: Give me fifteen more units! Nurse: We're...out ::Her eyes shot up in bewilderment. Out? They can't be out. How could they be out??:: Ezo: HOW are we out? ::She let out a barrage of very unladylike curses before getting a handle on the catastrophic complication.:: Ezo: Get to the replicator, have it working double time. Get me fifty units. Until then, give him twenty CCs of saline. Get something into him before we los- ::The alarm blared. It was happening. He was going into arrest. Calling out the order, everyone backed off instantly as the cardiostimulator descended. They all stood back. Waiting for the flatline to be replaced by steady, even beeps. She'd take uneven, barely noticeable beeps over that blaring constant note. One application. No change. Second application. No frakking change. To her left, she saw a medic glancing at the chronometer above the bed.:: Ezo: DO NOT. We aren't done here. You understand me?? ::The medic jolted in place. It wasn't necessarily a wrong call, but right now? it was the worst call of his career. Mirra lost track of the applications, the angry constant blare of the machine being the only sound. She wasn't giving up. She refused. It may have been just minutes, it felt like hours, but...it happened. One bleep. Silence, then the second. They gave no time to rejoice as they all sprung back into action. Tools in hand, shrapnel being removed, sutures being applied, three more orders of blood, a half a dozen close calls, and a never ceasing team fighting hard against the odds. And somehow...the scales seemed to be tipping in the favor of the scaled Marine. Piles of twisted metal pulled from his body littered the trays beside them, discarded tubing and empty bags that once held the newly replicated blood fell to the floor to be quickly replaced by a full one. Having finally managed to stop the major bleed, Mirra was working to cauterize the minor irrupted vessels in an attempt to get his vitals regulated. Her focus was grabbed by a sudden blare of an alarm.:: Ezo: He's going tachy, talk to me people.. Medic: He's coming around Doc, orders? ::This was great news...just poorly timed. As hard has they fought to bring him back, he was making his arrival too early, and if not careful, they were setting themselves up to lose him all over again. oO Last thing we need his for him to be ripping out tubes and sutures. Or going for a throat with his good hand...Forgive me for this...Oo:: Ezo: Knock him out. ::Order given, in a flash the medic returned with a hypo prepped and ready. It was administered swiftly, and his vitals began to stabilize within moments. While she finalized the last of the repairs to the ruptured blood vessels, and moving on to repairing the little remaining musculature and outer tissue, she reflected briefly on the conversation she would have to have when he awoke. And he was going to be waking up. Gorn and Klingon alike may find honor in a warriors death, but Mirra viewed death more as a professional rival. One, who in this instance, she was damn determined to beat. Finally, they reached stabilization. Final sutures applied, bandages wrapped, IV fluids changed, and vitals confirmed. They were out of critical and coasting along stable. He was moved out of the Trauma room to ICU, to be monitored closely in case the tides would change...But for now? He made it. Even better, when Mirra finally removed the surgical glove and took hold of his hand, she felt him. He was in there. With a brittle smile, gave his hand a firm squeeze.:: Ezo: ::quietly:: There you are... ------------------------------------ Lieutenant Mirra Ezo, MDChief Medical Officer Starbase 118 OpsC239205ME0
  7. ((Power Facility- Duronis II Embassy)) ::Sharpe had finally arrived at the power facility, things had moved so fast during this latest invasion that he was all over the place, in fact the last place he remembered being was securing the Security building, and then notifying Captain Waltas that he had captured the group leader of the sabotage and retrieval team of Orion's in the basement of the Security building, he also mentioned that they may have a cloaked ship in orbit as they sent a very important looking file up to somewhere, he could not tell which, now here he was approaching Parker and Oddas, he knew they had been saying something, but he missed all the rest and arrived at the point where explosives were mentioned.:: ::Sharpe had remained silent, he was well aware that he was behind on things, but he looked at the bomb and knew Kildare could have disarmed it as he was a bomb disposal expert, but Starfleet had posted him to a system that was petitioning for membership but still had a lot of terrorist attacks on its ruling government, so he and a large contingent of Starfleet personnel had made an Outpost there and began to help the reigning government, Sharpe himself was good with computers not bombs, so he was a little startled when Parker's Commbadge chirped.:: Waltas: =/\= Major, sitrep. =/\= ::As Parker went onto explain things to Captain Waltas Sharpe took him a better look at his surroundings, his gaze came to rest on Oddas. Sharpe was not that close to Parker in location so he made some noise and Parker looked back as Sharpe closed the gap getting a better look at the bomb just as Parker finished speaking with Waltas.:: Sharpe: How you holding up El tee? ::Smiling in a friendly manner at her response he turned to Parker.:: Sharpe: What's the stitch Major? Parker: If we live through this, I'm court marshaling both of you. If we die, I'm going to find you both in the afterlife and kick your asses for all eternity.... ::Oddas had a look that said dubious, she was unsure if Parker was joking or not, Sharpe on the other hand knew he was a gentle giant and this was his way of releasing frustration, he must have been feeling.:: Sharpe: Oh please Major, this is not the time for theatrics, you are just miffed that you have encountered a problem you cannot solve, you are like my wife, well what she used to be like; if it does not involve shooting you always seem to get frustrated and this is classic Parker ::Sharpe smiled as he said this, Parker may be a big softy underneath, but the guy still had one hell of a temper and big softy or not he was truly capable of causing hurt.:: What’s the bombs timeframe? Parker: Two minutes, thirty five seconds. It's a tricobalt explosive with a magnetic attachment and a tritium detonator. Sharpe: It's the Final Countdown!! Parker: Exactly. No time. We need to focus on getting the bomb off the manifold without setting it off. Oddas, find us an anti grav unit, pronto... Oddas: Aye Sir. :: she scrambled off to find the anti-grav unit, feeling good about doing something. :: Sharpe: ::With Oddas gone Sharpe got closer to the bomb and he got a good look at it:: Okay that does not look good, looks like its got a gyro unit attached ::pause:: no wonder you asked for an anti-grav unit Major! What do we actually need to do? Parker: We need to de- magnetize the seal, but before we do that, we need to neutralize the mercury switch which.. is.. right... there:: pointing behind an access panel:: You up for this? Sharpe: Hey I am game! After everything that has happened to me this year in such a short space of time, the prospect of going boom is not so daunting, but if I die I will go knowing that my wife will stop at nothing to avenge me and in that I would pity the Orion's. Okay ::he said as he walked over to the access panel and carefully opened it and gasped in awe, the computer hook ups and such were close to his holy grail, he knew that if it went boom he would die happy. Parker: Well then, let's get to it..... ::As Sharpe looked around he saw the area in a less than tidy state, with debris everywhere and fluctuating ODN cables poking out of holes, he knew the Embassy had been bombarded, but he did not realize it had been bombed this badly, but he returned his attention to the panel aware that Oddas had returned but that’s all he knew as he found a balance between being fully immersed in his work and having to communicate with Parker.:: Sharpe: Major, I have just deactivated the motion sensor detectors on the explosive device which connect to the mercury switch, you should be able to move it a little without the big badda boom. Parker: I don't just want to move it, I want to transport it out of here... Sharpe: ::shrugging even though Parker was not looking at him:: Well I have to make sure power and sensors to the bomb are disconnected first and this is a lot more complicated that patching or rewiring the Tactical/Security console on the Thunder or Bronwyn, one false move here and I get to see my parents again, so please Major be you slow with what you is doing, I would like to see my children again. ::Sharpe worked his way through re-routing power cables and adjusting micro isolinear chips to other places, not so easy to do with tools that you had to improvise with, but as he got into his work his subconscious habit of talking to himself as he worked raised its head.:: Sharpe: Okay now, if I put that there and move that over there and adjust that ::he jumped back as sparks flew:: okay not that way ::he said and returned back to his work, he got so far until he struck pay dirt, he put his make-[...] tools down and pulled out his tricorder.:: Major I advise you to stop, that bomb is plugged into the Embassy's main power distribution, I have managed to disconnect all sensors to the bomb, but there is not enough time to disconnect the thing from the main power, I could do it but not in the time we have here, I do however have me a wild idea ::Sharpe paused as he looked at Oddas who had her an anti-grav unit.:: Parker: What are you thinking? ::Looking at the pair:: Sharpe: If Lieutenant Oddas can disconnect the power unit from that anti-grav sled I can hook up a makeshift connection, I would transfer the power supply going to the bomb from the Embassy main to the power unit. But there is a draw back, it will cut remaining time down to less than half of what we have left. So the moment I switch its power over we will have five minutes tops to beam it up into space, it will be tight but it can be done. Its a shame Starfleet posted Kildare to the sticks, he could have disarmed this, but there is no ship fast enough to get him here, so the option I mentioned is our only one save dying Major, what will it be? Parker: It will be neither. It's not hooked up to main power. They didn't have enough time to do that. They fused a dummy set of conduit to make you think it was::Scanning it with his tricorder:: No power there, no intrusions in the casing. :: Picking up a micro- wrench:: I'm going to reverse the polarity of the magnetic seal, but watch the voltage.... TAG, TBC Lieutenant Paul Sharpe Security Officer USS Bronwyn Duronis II Embassy Image Collective Member Serial No. #I238401PS0
  8. (( USS Invicta, T’Lea’s New Quarters)) :: Pandora had done her job and delivered the new living space promptly. She’d also managed to include a little more room in the lounge area than what was normally allocated for “shared” quarters of two officers. Perhaps the ‘droid had taken into account the requirements of a six year old, rambunctious little girl running around.:: :: T’Lea briefly scanned the area through the tower of moving crates. The extra room would be the perfect place for T’Sara’s surprise, when it got here. She glanced at the time and scowled. Delivery from the station was late. [...]s. She’d paid extra for expedited shipping, and she was going to damn well make them pay for not getting it here on time.:: :: Just then the door chimes rang out. T’Lea popped her head out from behind the many rows of cargo boxes blocking the lounge area.:: T’Lea: Enter. :: She said, knowing it was the delivery guys with her package. She had ducked down behind a row of containers and was in the process of scooting them out of the way to make room for T’Sara’s surprise.:: T’Lea: You are late. I’m filing a complaint. Just put it over here…? :: When she looked up she was met with immediate disappointment. And Raissa felt it.:: T’Lea: Oh, great. :: Hardly an enthusiastic welcome, but in her defense she had been expecting someone else. She stood to full height and rested an arm on the stack of boxes that were about chest high.:: T’Lea: Is this a business or social call? ::Raissa kept her expression neutral and her mental shielding up tight. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Usually their meetings took place in her office, but this was T’Lea’s ‘turf’ and she was a little unsure. But then, blunt always works with T’Lea. :: Moonsong: We do not socialize, therefore… business... T’Lea: That hurt my feelings. ::not really:: How about, you help me get these boxes into that room ::she pointed to the right:: and set up my daughters bed, and we can do business all you want? :: She wasn’t really as grumpy as she sounded; in fact, she was mostly nervous, excited and happy that T’Sara was coming home. On the other hand she was nervous, concerned, and worried about seeing Vetri again after how well their last get-together went.:: Moonsong: ::Raissa easily picked up the flash of emotion and could guess why.:: Very well T’Lea: Here. :: She handed over a crate, what she thought the Counselor was strong enough to carry, meanwhile she took what she *knew* she could carry.:: T’Lea: How has your shoreleave been? ::Raissa didn’t grunt under the weight. She was a little stronger than she looked since she kept in shape, but still.:: Moonsong: I have managed a few hours… T’Lea: So you decided to break up the monotony and come see me? You must really hate fun. Moonsong: I do not…. T’Lea: ::frown:: Don’t you have a personal life? A male companion, or at least an aquatic pet? :: The stack of boxes were shoved aside and T’Lea dug out a set of fresh linens for T’Sara’s bed. Pink, cartoony, frilly bed sheets with matching pillowcases and comforter. She tossed a pillow and a case at Moonsong.:: T’Lea: Catch. :: She said after the fact. On purpose. Raissa scrambled to catch both… barely.:: Moonsong: ::T’Lea babbling. Check.:: No, no and no… ::She really shouldn’t have answered quite the way.:: :: Stopping mid-pillow-stuf[...]e, T’Lea stood straighter and slanted a frown at her.:: T’Lea: Wow. That’s largely pathetic. I expected more. At least a fish. ::she hoped this next part would irritate her:: Haven’t you read the study that says it’s unhealthy not to get laid every once in awhile? :: She watched Raissa for a reaction. Nothing? Really? C’mon! That was good stuff, top shelf annoying stuff!:: Moonsong: ::Not the first time something similar was said to her. Usually after she spent hours with someone having some sort of meltdown. She tucked the case around the pillow.:: What I mean is that shore leave is when the crew has time to see me, therefore I am here. T’Lea: Oh. Well. :: Said T’Lea waving her hand as if accepting the perfectly logical logic. She set the pillow aside and searched for the correct end of the fitted bed sheet. Stupid stretchy sheets always confounded her, and she always got it wrong on the first try.:: T’Lea: How could I possibly poke holes in such a well-rehearsed excuse like that. ::shrugging:: You’re here. Thanks for the house call, I guess. What do you want? Moonsong: ::She put the pillow on the bed, her hand unconsciously smoothing the material:: I am following up with you. ::she paused to look at the taller woman.:: I heard that Captain Vetri was on the station. :: She tossed Raissia one end of the elastic-edged sheet, mostly to avoid the topic for a moment more. She gathered her *word*.:: T’Lea: So. Moonsong: I believe I have come to know you somewhat… How did it go? :: She half-glanced at the woman as they tucked one end of the sheet in.:: T’Lea: Poorly. :: There was silence that followed. T’Lea was waiting for another prying question, but oddly nothing came. When she looked up she figured out why. Raissa was giving her space to continue on her own without prompting. Stubborn, T’Lea didn’t bite.:: T’Lea: What? Moonsong: And? ::she turned the sheet around to get the right end in the right place.:: T’Lea: ::sigh:: Fine. Things were said. Then things weren’t said. ::shrugging:: She’s got the Tiger now, she doesn’t need— Ha. ::wagging a finger at her:: You almost got me there. Good one. :: She had bit off the last part that would have accused the Trill of abandoning her and their family for her career.:: Moonsong: How do you feel about that? T’Lea: It doesn’t matter what I feel, or think. She made her decision without me, which speaks volumes. Nothing I do or say is going to change that now. ::she crossed her arms:: Tell me I’m wrong. :: Defiant in stance, but desperate to hear a different side she challenged the Counselor.:: Moonsong: ::Raissa looked at her with a raised eyebrow.:: You are wrong. :: T’Lea wagged her head a little and picked up the top sheet to finish the bed. She tucked sharply and tightly, revealing her aggravation in action not words.:: T’Lea: You know, maybe you got it right. No personal life is the answer. I should have never opened myself up to anyone. Who needs the extra targdren, right? ::she looked at Raissa:: You’re better off alone. Moonsong: You are wrong again. T’Lea: Pfft, whatever. :: That was the best intelligent response she could produce in that moment. Frak, she hated it when Raissa stonewalled her and wouldn’t play her games!:: Moonsong: Did you go all logical and emotionless on her? T’Lea: Pfft… no. :: Did she buy that? T’Lea glanced at her. Of course not. A huff of frustration followed.:: T’Lea: Maybe. Moonsong: Then you are a fool. ::A quick glance told her there was enough soft things that if thrown wouldn’t be too painful. Unless T’Lea decided to smother her to death with stuffed animals.:: :: The hybrid reached for the comforter, either to straighten it out, or wrap it around the Counselor’s head.:: T’Lea: Excuse me? Moonsong: Plain and simple then. You give her what you think she wants without asking her. Putting T’Sara in your care speaks volumes when you are not being too stubborn to listen. You are narrow minded and ready for the worst without considering a different outcome. :: There was a pause in T’Lea’s denial for a moment as some of that started to sink in. The counselor was right about one thing. T’Sara. The fact that Vetri trusted her with their daughter indicated that maybe something was still there worth fighting for. But she was *not* narrow minded, she thought to herself with a slight sneer on her face.:: Moonsong: I will wager that at no point did you say to Della: “I want you back. I want to keep my marriage.” Did you even say “I love you?” :: Blocking that assault on her logic, T’Lea snapped out the comforter in anger to spread it on the bed.:: T’Lea: This from a woman that doesn’t even date. I am mildly amused at your attempt to fix a relationship, when you cannot even start one yourself. Moonsong: Yes, I am well aware that I have no personal life. My patients do not look at me as a potential friend. Do I like it? No. But dealing with people like you and helping them to be at least content with their personal life gives me something in return. :: Bullseye. T’Lea had proudly struck gold for a second, until she realized just how kind of sad the confession really was. Damn, she didn’t actually expect to feel sorry for Raissa. She toughed up and thought about going for the throat, but took a different, more honest approach.:: T’Lea: That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. You are more afraid than I am. :: Honest, not soft.:: Moonsong: No I am not. T’Lea: Grow up, Counselor. Stop hiding behind your work, and acting as if you are far more superior than the rest of us, and don’t need anybody. Take a frelling chance with some poor idiot and let them in. Geez. You call me narrow minded? At least I’m *trying*. I mean, for frak’s sake, start having fun and maybe, I dunno, maybe then people will see you as more than just a boring sounding board. Take a risk. :: She indicated the frilly pink comforter to straighten it out the other end.:: Moonsong: ::Raissa followed instructions. T’Lea battering at her painfully? Check.:: You think that is what I do? T’Lea: I know exactly why I do what I do. To protect myself from getting hurt again. I already spilled my guts to Della on the flight deck once, and her response was “see ya”. So forgive me for not wanting to go there again so soon. I know my reasons and motivations. Can you say the same about yourself? Moonsong: Yes I can. After all, I do endure your rather vicious emotional attacks on me because I dare to ask the questions you do not want to hear. :: It was true, Raissa was a convenient punching bag -- an outlet to spew her venom safely without the risk of repercussions to her career, but she also thought highly of the woman, and that was why she held back the true fury of her attacks. But Raissa didn’t need to know that.:: T’Lea: And I dare to question who is doing the questioning! You’re a telepath, ::shrug:: exercise your mental walls if I offend you that much. Or are you too busy hiding from yourself to deal with me? ::Raissa straightened her shoulders and crossed her arms as she looked up at the taller woman who could probably break her in half. She punched a Gorn after all while she was miffed. And if she opened up she would just give the woman more ammunition. Her job sucked.:: Moonsong: I block most thoughts, but I cannot block emotion. I know when someone is being intentionally hurtful. Useful in the job, but not elsewhere. I do have friends I spend time with. One is in a coma right now. I did have a boyfriend. We broke up when my new telepathic ability put him into sickbay with neurological damage after a kiss. Then I almost had a relationship with a Deltan, but he dumped me after he was reassigned. Lately I have been too busy with patients to troll the ship for a telepathic male that ‘might’ be interested in ending my lonely nights. I considered a vow of celibacy which my friends thought was ridiculous. ::There. More than enough for her to do damage with. Opening up was probably not the right move, but it was necessary to prevent T’Lea from completely losing focus.:: Moonsong: There. Now you should have more than enough information to rip into me with. :: Finally, something that T’Lea could sink her teeth into, but not in the way Raissa probably thought. T’Lea was a very good bully, and a pretty decent master of manipulation, twisting words and twisting arms to get what she wanted. While in the past she would have absolutely shredded the woman’s candor and used it against her to demoralize and humiliate her… well, lucky for Raissa this wasn’t the past.:: :: The hybrid slightly tilted her head inquisitively.:: T’Lea: You think that little of me. Moonsong: Yes. That is what you do. When you hurt, you lash out. ::pause.:: But you do not know anything about me therefore your vitriol is unfocused. :: But T’Lea *did* know. She knew more now than ever, and oddly there were some things in Raissa’s past that had similarities with her own. Obviously, Raissa had expected T’Lea to use it against her, but that hadn’t been her intention at all. She was just really terrible at making friends, and Raissa clearly wanted to keep things on a doctor/patient basis.:: T’Lea: Fine. I’m a drenhole. Anything else useful to save a marriage? Moonsong: Bottom line? You love her. Tell her. Just because the two of you are apart that does not mean your marriage is over. You do not want that. Neither does she. Stop being stubborn. Lay it out there until she clearly says the words “This marriage is over”. Stop trying to put them in her mouth. Stop assuming pain before it happens. :: She confront the Counselor almost toe-to-toe. Anything could have happened in those few seconds that passed, a fist thrown to the face, royal toss out of the door, but this happened…:: T’Lea: Agreed. ::pause:: But only if you do the same. :: She was of course referring to the “stop assuming pain before it happens.” Moonsong’s vow of celibacy almost paralleled T’Lea’s retreat from emotion. At least, in T’Lea’s mind it was comparable.:: Moonsong: ::Raissa blinked. That was not what she expected.:: What? :: The door chimes sounded at that moment, and T’Lea called around Raissa to grant access. As the doors opened two delivery men entered with a large cargo container. As the crates were moved in, Raissa slipped closer to the door.:: T’Lea: Over here with that please. :: Apparently Raissa had tamed the tiger, and saved the delivery guys who were twenty minutes late now.:: :: As the crate was set down and T’Lea signed the receipt she glanced at the Counselor making her exit.:: T’Lea: Hey. The Deltan you mentioned. His last name wasn’t Adarnis was it? Moonsong: No… Belasi... T’Lea: Good. That would have been awkward. Moonsong: I suppose so… ::Why, she didn’t know. Raissa decided now was the time to flee. She was confused by the emotions that T’Lea was projecting. She paused. Did opening up make her less the ‘enemy’? She wasn’t sure. Would they become friends? Again, she didn’t know. The friends she had had ignored the doctor/patient rules and included her in their life and got her to open up since that wasn’t something she did easily. At the moment retreat now seemed the best plan. Next time, it would be here office.:: END =/\==/\==/\==/\==/\==/\==/\= Lt. Commander Raissa Moonsong Chief of Counseling / Attache IEC USS Invicta =/\==/\=G239107RM0 =/\==/\= & Lieutenant Commander T’Lea History & Archaeology Specialist USS Invicta Author ID I238301T10
  9. ((Jolara’s Quarters, USS Invicta)) :: Rune stepped out of the shower still feeling like she’d just been hit by a torpedo. The images Lt Reese had shown her kept flashing through her head. To say she was on an emotional roller coaster would have been putting it mildly. She was torn between being borderline glad he was dead and enraged someone had done it before she could get any real answers, not to mention they did it in a way that made it look like she had gone ballistic and done it. :: :: The fact that Laro had stepped in and destroyed the investigation before it even really got started both shocked the hell out of her and worried her more than she could say. :: :: She was only half dressed when the door chime sounded. Grabbing a loose fitting t-shirt, she pulled it on while moving toward the door half wondering if station security had changed their minds and decided to pursue the investigation without the body or physical evidence. :: :: The face she saw when the door opened made her almost wish it had been security. :: Jolara: T’Lea… not really who I was expecting.. T’Lea: Me either. May I come in? :: Rune stepped aside, one hand waving T’Lea in and the other brushing her hair back. :: Jolara: Sure. Come on in. :: While stepping through the doorway, T’Lea surveyed the lay of the land, meaning she eyeballed Rune for any changes since her meeting with “the father” of her child, or any hints of what might have happened. She seemed disheveled, and sweaty, or had she just taken a shower?:: T’Lea: So, how was your day? Jolara: ::raising an eyebrow:: Totally crappy. ::sarcastically:: I am touched you care. :: T'Lea let herself fall to the sofa and stretched out on it like she owned the place.:: T'Lea: Pfft.. the only thing I care about is that my handler isn't getting thrown into some hellhole gulag. Let's be honest, your replacement Intel officer won't play as loosely with the rules, or tolerate me as well you do. :: Rune sank into the chair beside the sofa. She really wasn’t in the mood for their usual back and forth prodding. She closed her eyes, rubbed her forehead, then looked at T’Lea. :: Jolara: hmph… Now, why would I be getting thrown into some hellhole gulag when I have you here to torture me. :: Her sense of humor was still alive and well, that was at least something, thought T’Lea as she relaxed an arm across the back of the sofa.:: T'Lea: I heard a dead body turned up on the station. ::she slanted a look:: I don't need to know the details, mostly because I don't want to become complicit, but you're here and not in the brig so something went right. :: Rune let out a short, not so amused laugh. News certainly travels fast. Everyone on the ship would probably know before the end of the day. :: Jolara: I doubt you would believe me even if I told you. No one else does. T’Lea: Try me. Jolara: I did not do it. T’Lea: It’s a rather interesting coincidence then. Jolara: Like I said, no one else believes me either. :: T’Lea smile was sharp and mocking.:: T’Lea: Did I say that? No. Besides if you had killed him, you’d be acting different. See, you have a conscience; I’d like to think it would bother you. What happened then? Jolara: ::shrugging as if it didn’t bother her:: Someone high up in the Al-Leyan Council decided to take the body and all the evidence. T’Lea: That was nice of them. Any idea who would want to do that? Jolara: My mentor, Laro Susell… why, I do not really know. :: At that moment, the baby kicked hard and Rune flinched. :: T’Lea: Stop it. I know that look and you are not having that baby in front of me. :: Rune’s face scrunched as she shot T’Lea a look. She took a breath and released it, trying to relax and ease the pain she felt. :: Jolara: Do not worry. It is too soon. T’Lea: Sounds to me like your mentor got rid of a loose end. You got too close, and Laro sent you a bloody message. What are you going to do now? :: Rune shook her head as she adjusted her position in the chair trying to get comfortable. :: Jolara: She has done terrible things but… ::taking another breath as she felt another kick:: I do not know. I saw her earlier. She seemed… different… ::another pain:: somehow. :: The hybrid frowned suspiciously at Rune.:: T’Lea: Are those contractions? Jolara: ::frowning and shaking her head again:: It is nothing. Anyhow... she said it was not safe for me to return home and I should return to the ship. T’Lea: Isn’t that a drastic change from trying to kidnap you and drag your [...] back home? Or am I missing something? Jolara: ::nodding:: It is a complete 180 as humans say. I still do not trust her and never will, but I did get the sense that something has happened. T’Lea: You never told me how the meeting went with the father of your child, whatshisname. Did he say anything useful? :: Rune looked down with a shake of her head. Her mind was starting to spin and she was becoming increasingly physically uncomfortable which made it more difficult to focus on what they were talking about. :: Jolara: Tra’li Ramni. Not really. He seemed surprised when I told him why I was there. Said it was not him, that it was impossible. ::making a face, her hand absently touched her stomach:: Something about having a solid alibi. Being in a hospital recovering. T’Lea: You do know there are other ways to become pregnant. He didn’t have to be there in person. His alibi may be true. Did he say anything else? Jolara: I do not know what to believe anymore. Before I could question him further, he told me to return to my ship immediately and stay here. Then he took off. T’Lea: And then you killed him. :: She said casually trying to catch Rune off guard. It didn’t work.:: Jolara: I chased after him, which was probably stupid now looking back and why I am not feeling very well right now. T’Lea: Well, obviously he knew something. You should look into his alibi. Find out why he was in the hospital. Talk to his doctors. Talk to the people closest to him. That kind of thing. :: She got up to stretch and make her way to the exit.:: T’Lea: Or let it go, have your baby, and get on with life. Jolara: ::quietly:: I do not know if I can let it go. T’Lea: Understandable, they impregnated you for a reason. I don’t know if it was to keep you in line, or if the child is “special”, but either way you’re going to have a fight on your hands eventually. ::frowning:: Are you sure you all right? You look pale. :: Rune looked up at the Romu-Vulc and blinked. The room seemed to spin for a moment along with an intense pain in her lower back and abdomen, and down her legs. Holding her stomach, she leaned forward and sucked in a breath. :: Jolara: ::slowly shaking her head:: Something is wrong. :: An annoyed scowl crossed T’Lea’s Vulcan brow.:: T’Lea: Why am I not surprised. It’s the baby isn’t it? It’s coming. Jolara: ::a little scared:: Can not be... T’Lea: Yeah? Well, you don’t get to decide these things. Trust me. I know. Come on. You’re going to sickbay. :: Rune started to stand but another wave sent her off balance. She reached out, grabbing the first thing she could find which was T’Lea’s arm. :: Jolara: It is too soon. You have to make it stop! T’Lea: Hush! Now you listen to me you annoying little AI-Leyan. I am *not* delivering a baby today, do you understand? I do not need to be involved with your body parts ever, EVER, *EVER* again. Got it! Now move your pregnant [...] to the turbolift. Jolara: I can not! :: She grabbed Rune and ushered her swiftly out of the door and toward the turbolift.:: T’Lea: ::com. tap:: =/\= T’Lea to Sickbay. I have a medical emergency in route to sickbay. It’s Commander Jolara and her baby.=/\= Blueheart/Rosalee/Kaj: =/\= response ((Turbolift)) :: T’Lea hoisted the woman in and leaned her up against the wall. She glared at her over her shoulder.:: T’Lea: Don’t you dare drop it here. :: Rune held onto the rail with one hand and her stomach with the other. She gripped the rail tighter as another wave of pain stabbed through her. :: Jolara: I do not want to drop him at all! Computer: Please state- T’Lea: Deck six NOW! :: The turbolift took off to its destination:: Jolara: ::suddenly calm and breathing through the pain:: T’Lea… He is... not going to... wait. T’Lea: I am giving you a direct order, do NOT have that baby damnit! Jolara: Am very serious. T’Lea: So am I! ((Fast Forward)) :: When the lift doors opened, Rune was lying on the floor drenched in sweat and completely exhausted. She could hear a tiny cry and movement just out of her field of vision. :: Jolara: Is he.. okay? :: This had been the second child T’Lea had delivered in her life. The first had been Admiral Toni Turner’s, and that child too had been male. Apparently, T’Lea had a knack for delivering boys.:: :: The hybrid had taken off her jacket and the wriggly little newborn was swaddled therein. T’Lea, the hardcore [...], had him cradled close, checking him over like a mama lion.:: T’Lea: He’s gorgeous. ::at the baby:: Your mommy is a big stupid head, but you’ll be just fine. :: She moved to hand the child over.:: T’Lea: All yours. You owe me. A *lot*. :: Rune carefully cradled her new son against her. Tears filled her eyes as soon as she saw his little face. Her eyes flicked up to T’Lea and the back again. Seeing Rune like that made the hybrid uncomfortable, and she squirmed a little in her own skin.:: Jolara: ::her voice shaking:: Just two more things… T’Lea: Ugh. Really? Haven’t I done enough already? :: She couldn’t have sounded more put-off if she’d tried. Really, she was just covering up her own emotions, and the memories of holding her own newborn. T’Lea just stared at her waiting for whatever Rune wanted to be announced.:: Jolara: Do not let them take him from me. :: Right. *That*, thought T’Lea. Something told the hybrid that once Rune settled into the mom role, she wouldn’t be need her help to protect the child. But the Romu-vulc shrugged a loose response that kind of indicated help was there if needed.:: T’Lea: You’re so damn needy. Anything else, your highness? Jolara: ::managing a weak smile:: Do not ever touch me like that again. :: Turning back as the medics swarmed the turbolift, T’Lea slanted a look at the AI-Leyan, and then just shook her head and rolled her eyes. Bad joke received.:: ….end…. Lieutenant Commander T’Lea History & Archaeology Specialist USS Invicta Author ID I238301T10 -and- Lt. Cmdr. Rune Jolara Intelligence Officer - USS Invicta Writer ID: A238909RJ0
  10. ((Emergency shelter, USS Gorkon)) ::The fear was palpable.:: ::Every time the ship shook from an explosion someone cried out. Usually it was one of the children in the room, but the adult civilians were not immune from the fear. Even the squad of security officers stationed inside the room glanced at each other nervously. And that was before the ship had taken it’s tumble through space…:: ::Angie sat on the floor at the far back of the room, clutching her sons to her under a grimy blanket. Both boys were whimpering, despite her nest efforts to alleviate their fears. She was sure it was because they could sense her own fears. Even the baby growing in her stomach seemed to sense it, as it had been moving constantly ever since they’d arrived at the shelter. Being pregnant in this universe of war only added to her fears. Here she was, six months along and she wasn’t even sure her boys would survive, let alone the one not even born yet.:: ::She looked sadly to where Kinzey Jacobs sat rocking quietly. She hadn’t heard her speak in months. Her husband Joe had been one of the Gorkons security staff. He’d been one of the first to be lost, mere months before their daughter Josephine had been born. That had brought Kinzey out of her depression as it had given her something to live for.:: ::But they’d lost Josephine, two months ago, during a hull breach and the baby’s tiny little lungs hadn’t been able to recover. Since then Kinzey hadn’t spoken more than two words, was barely eating and sleeping even less. Even the life had left her eyes, and on the rare occasion where Kinzey looked anywhere than the floor you saw only dull, soulless green eyes.:: ::An explosion, closer than any of the others, shook the room. Everyone cringed.:: Man: That was close. ::The door burst open and three Jem’Hadar rushed in. The squad descended upon them, but, despite the experience they’d accrued through their numerous encounters with the Dominion, they were no match for all three and one burst through the line. He made a beeline for Angie and the small group around her.:: ::Her heart continued to pound, but her hands remained steady as she threw off the blanket. This was what she and Alucard had been preparing for. She put the butt of his hunting rifle to her shoulder and clicked off the safety. She calmly took aim and fired. The fighters head disappeared and as he fell she could see the pattern of small blood drops left on the bulkhead behind him.:: Angie: ::Quietly.:: Stay away from my babies… ::She pulled the bolt back and drove it home again, ready for the next one. But there wasn’t a next one. The surviving security team was dragging away the other two bodies, and the room, heck even the whole ship, was oddly quiet. The rifle barrel slowly sagged to the floor and she began to shake from the sobs.:: =/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\= PNPC Angie Vess Civilian =/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\= simmed by: =/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\= Commander Alucard Vess FO USS Gorkon Deputy Facilitator – Featured Bio Team C238601TB0 =/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=
  11. ((Corridors, USS Gorkon)) ::A pale light split the darkness.:: ::A lone figure materialized in a dark, disheveled corridor of the Sovereign-class ship and quickly slipped into a darkened doorway. Erik peeked around the doorframe, disruptor in his left hand and knife in his right. He’d left his personal guard on his ship. As far as he was concerned, the battle was done and dusted. His ship stood between the Gorkon and escape, and the starship wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. It was now time to take care of some personal business.:: ::He was still seething. Months ago, the Gorkon’s Captain and Walter Brunsig had used Alucard Vesses resemblance to Erik to infiltrate a Dominion base and had made off with an important prisoner and a valuable Romulan ship. He’d faced quite a bit of backlash from his superiors and had nearly been removed from command. Only his superior intellect had saved him from the Vorta’s wrath.:: ::The ship echoed with weapons fire. Not from his battleship, that had done its job. No, this was small weapons fire. His boarding parties were doing a systematic sweep of the vessel with orders to eliminate all Starfleet personnel. But they had restrictions; there were four they could not touch.:: ::Two he would likely find together, one would be found in Sickbay, and the last on the Bridge. Two he would tag and take alive, the other two would die painfully.:: ::He took to the ships Jefferies Tubes. Fortunately, for him, the ship was so battered that most of it was abandoned which made travel less encumbered. And he knew his quart well. Walter would protect Quinn, so he just needed to find her. There was only one place she’d be during an alert.:: ((Deck 16 Corridors, USS Gorkon)) ::Yes, just as he’d thought. He spotted her at the end of a corridor making some fruitless emergency repair. Walter wasn’t with her, but he was close. He knew it.:: ::His superior hearing heard it first. A slight noise behind him, like fabric rustling. :: Jansen (Alt): Hello, Walter. Brunsig (Alt): You're going to regret coming here, Erik. Jansen (Alt): Hmm. You talk a big game, but we both know that'll never happen. ::He spun, aimed, and flung his knife. In the same fluid moment, he shifted his disruptor to his right hand.:: ((Meanwhile, Main Sickbay)) ::Alucard’s deft hands fairly flew as he performed the lifesaving burr hole procedure Lynn Mayr needed to save her life. Quite a bit of pressure had been building up inside her cranium, more than he had initially expected. By the time the drain had been installed and the head bandage applied the front of his scrub top had become soaked with blood and cerebrospinal fluid.:: ::He stood to stretch his back, then stopped. An immense feeling of dread overcame him.:: Vess: ::Softly.:: He’s here… Red Elk: Pardon? Vess: ::Louder.:: Computer, where is Commander Vess? ::The computer, jury rigged like a Christmas tree, was a few moments longer in responding.:: Computer: Commander Vess is in Sickbay and on Deck 16. ::He exchanged a startled look with Red Elk before heading swiftly for the door. There was only one way he could be in two places at once.:: Vess: Dr. Skyfire, take over! ::And then he was out the door.:: ((Back on Deck 16)) ::The knife arced through the air, spinning end over end like a pinwheel of death, on its way toward Quinn’s heart. And it would have reached its target too, but for the foolish actions of another engineer. The man leapt in front of the blade, taking it in the shoulder, saving Quinn’s life.:: ::He would be sure to make him pay for his foolishness later.:: Brunsig (Alt): So what's the plan, Erik? Kill us all and exchange the Gorkon for a promotion? ::Erik smiled and spread his hands out and bowed slightly.:: Jansen (Alt): Well, of course, Walter. You were such a thorn in the Dominion’s side for so long that they’ll probably give me a fleet. Maybe even my own planet. ::The two men eyed each other like two starving lions over one dead gazelle. Erik raised his disruptor and was about to fire when several things happened at once. The ship lurched and barrel rolled over and over, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a section of the wall near where his head had been disappear from a phaser blast at maximum setting. He quickly deduced, even while tumbling about the corridor, that Walter had set himself up as bait to allow Quinn to take a shot at Erik.:: ::And then there was silence. The ship was no longer rolling, and somehow had survived the experience. Erik groaned and pushed himself up onto his elbows. He would have to find out what happened, later, but for now he had to get back to his feet and finish what he had come here to finish.:: ::He pushed himself up further, then stumbled to his feet. He felt wetness running down his beard. He wiped his hand across his face and saw in the dim light a slick reflection of crimson. The pain from his nose confirmed his nose was broken.:: ::Never mind that, he was first to his feet and raised his disruptor and aimed at Walter. It was time to end this.:: Jansen (Alt): Say goodbye, Walter Reynolds (Alt): Erik, don't! Don't do this! ::A shadow detached itself from an open Jefferies tube.:: Vess: Yes, Erik, dunna do this… ::Where the hell had he come from?:: Jansen (Alt): Well, at least you’ve saved me from having to come find you. Three fish, one pond. ::Alucard waved them back. This man was his responsibility. He’d caused them so much pain and anguish, caused so many deaths. It was time to end this, and he was going to make sure the last thing Erik Jansen saw was his own face.:: ::Erik acted first, raising his disruptor and firing at the same time. But Alucard had expected that. He dove and grabbed a handful of debris. This he threw in Erik’s face. The other Augment stumbled back and clawed at his face to clear his eyes. Alucard didn’t give him the chance though, and was on him in a flash.:: ::The disruptor clattered across the deck as both men grappled at each other. The air was filled with the sound of fists hitting flesh. Both men briefly noticed encountering another body as they rolled across the deck but didn’t notice *who* it was; neither had attention for anything but this final fight.:: ::It seemed to go on forever, until...:: ::SNAP!:: ::It was unmistakable, the sound of a neck snapping. It was too dark to tell who rose from the deck, panting from the exertion.:: Vess: It’s done… =/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\= PNPC Rona'toran Erik Jansen (deceased) CO Dominion Battleship B937 =/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\= And: =/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\= Commander Alucard Vess FO USS Gorkon Deputy Facilitator – Featured Bio Team C238601TB0 =/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=
  12. (( Corridor, U.S.S. Albion )) ::Kro marched down the corridor with purpose. Flanked by two fellow marines, a young Ensign skirted out of the way at their approach. Even according to his service record the Tandaran was the perfect picture of a hardened marine. He came from a long line of highly decorated military officers, and by proxy spent most of his childhood growing up on military bases. While his destiny seemed obvious, the road had been long and arduous. Growing up with the sons and daughters of soldiers had been a blessing and a curse. He had always wanted to follow in his fathers footsteps, but he had other interests as well. Interests that happened to make him the target of much scorn and ridicule by his peers. Could he not appreciate the emotion of a historic Opera? Could he not be mesmerized by the beauty of an elegant Ballet? Could he not be soothed by a classical orchestra? Music, dance, performance. They were like fuel to the fire of his spirit. As a child he had to learn the hard way that being different was a difficult, and often painful road. It was a road he endured regardless. He was a fighter, and what was a fighter without passion? He had become almost obsessed with weight lifting. Not only to deal with bullies, but to handle the anger that often welled up within him. In the end it had hardened him, and he was not long phased by the criticism of others. Perhaps because he no longer cared, or perhaps because he had developed into a behemoth of pure muscle. As an adult he had grown into a man with no tolerance for cruelty or the torment of the innocent, and he liked to think it made him a better marine. He understood now he was simply refined. He had tastes that were far more sophisticated than the average trench grunt. He did not enjoy violence, but preferred to solve problems with his mind. Strategy, reason, and problem solving were how battles were won. When it came down to it though, it didn't hurt that he was strong enough to punch a mans nose through the back of his skull.:: Tatash: =/\= Tatash to Kro, status report Lieutenant. Kro: =/\= All teams report ready, Sir. Do we have an objective? Tatash: =/\= Mission unclear at this time, have the squads prepare for boarding and counter-boarding operations. Full load-out, drill as required. Kro: =/\= Understood Major. ::There was a small pause as he was handed a PADD by a fellow marine.:: I'll have us armed and operational within the hour. Tatash: =/\= Good. Tatash out. ::Gently tapping his combadge off, he stopped in his tracks and turned to the other two marines.:: Kro: Maxwell, you heard the Major. Full Load out. I want every squad equipped with Type 3 MK-9 Phaser Rifles as well as all specialty specific gear and boarding equipment. Maxwell: What about demolitions, Sir? Kro: Everything they need, but keep them mobile. ::He looked to Navin, handing him back the PADD:: Squads to be stationed with Sigma layout. Protect vital areas but be ready to move. I want regular reports. Double time gentlemen! ::As the two marines rushed off, Kro looked to the Ensign that had skirted their warpath a moment before and graced him with a warm smile.:: Kro: Carry on Ensign. We have your back. 1st Lieutenant Kro Starfleet Marine Bravo Company
  13. Polling closes at 11:59pm Pacific on Sunday, October 23rd. This is a run-off poll, where our general membership (that's you!) chooses which sim, from Set 3 of 2016 (Rounds 14-20), should proceed to the final round of the contest for a chance to be selected as the Top Sim of 2016! These sims below were chosen by a panel of judges (one from each ship) from the sims submitted in Rounds 14-20 of the contest. TO START, please read these sims: Round 14: Ens Paul Scudder & Ens Savan, "Submitting to the Current of the Godavari" Round 15: Capt Jalana Rajel, "Familiarity" Round 16: Lt Mirra Ezo & Lt Antero Flynn, "Big Trouble in Little Risa" Round 17: P3 Damien Bagwell III & Lt Mirra Ezo, "Fighting fire with...foam?" Round 18: Lt John Valdivia, "Unexpected visit" Round 19: LtCmdr Kaitlyn Falcon & Yillara Khante, "Time to Play" Round 20: Capt Tyr Waltas, "Showdown" NEXT, using the poll above, vote for the sim you like the most. It should be the sim that's the best written, with strong characterization, and evocative or descriptive scene-setting. DON'T vote for a sim just because you serve on the same crew as the person who wrote it. Any crew that "stuffs the ballot" (by having everyone on the crew vote for the same sim to ensure that it wins this poll) will be eliminated from the contest and shamed by the rest of the community as terrible, terrible cheaters. That would be awful. Good luck to the nominees!
  14. ((Bridge, IRW Draxan)) ::The Draxan shook violently as the Zalkonians fired again, but Commander Koral held firm in his command chair.:: Tactical Officer: Shields down to 30% but holding! Koral: Very well, bring disruptors to bear on the Zalkonian vessel. Target both their bridge and engineering… Pilot, bear down straight upon the ship then veer off at full impulse. ::The Draxan was still without torpedoes but at this range, its disruptors would rip through whatever shielding was left. Koral wanted prisoners, but he was not going to lose the Vorax. The most immediate threat had to be eliminated.:: Tactical Officer: Disruptors locked… Koral: Fire! ::Koral watched the viewscreen as vivid green pulses bore down upon the Zalkonian ship. Seconds later, explosions wripped throught the hull. The Draxan Tactical officer: ::audibly sighing with relief:: Enemy vessel destroyed. Koral: Very good. Pilot, station us near the Vorax. Communications, bring up their bridge. Communication: Yes, Commander… ::The Vorax had sent an automatic distress signal a few minutes before. That meant that the both the commanding and first officers were incapacitated or dead.:: Comm Officer: Sir, I have Centurion L’Rel. ::Koral did not know L’Rel well, but she was the fourth highest ranking officer—young but sharp.:: ::The viewscreen flickered to show a dimly lit bridge. L’Rel’s face remained stoic.:: Koral: Commander, Report. L’Rel: Commander Nasan and Subcommander Mikral are dead. Chief Engineering Officer is in critical condition. ::Koral knew all of them and had even met their families. This was no way for them to die. Maybe this mission order was cooked up by Devok's co-conspirators. But he chose to show no emotion.:: Koral: And the status of the Vorax? L’Rel: We are still on batteries. But we should have the impulse drive back within 30 minutes. The warp drive may take a few hours. We just regained sensors. Koral: Weapons and shields? L’Rel: They are inoperative. I spoke to the surviving tactical officers and he suspects sabotage. ::L’Rel’s tone was both bitter but surprised.:: Koral: I understand. We have eliminated one of the Zalkonian vessels. We will stay close in the mean time. Tell your doctor to transport any severe injuries directly to the Draxan. Provide me an update in 30 minutes. L’Rel: Yes, Commander. ::L’Rel offered an arm salut and closed the channel. Koral: Status of the other vessels… Tactical Officer: The Federation ships have eliminated the vessels attacking them. The Bronwyn shows significant damage, but the Thunder none. ::Koral knew he was losing all tactical advantage.:: Koral: Lieutenant Sataal, who was beamed out with the Major? ::Sataal turned from the damage control panel. The lieutenant had tried to warn Koral about Devok, but the Commander dismissed the younger officer’s observations as paranoia. No one would be able to influence a Tal Shiar major.:: Sataal: From the bridge, Centurion Tikar from Security and Sublieutenant Kiron from Engineering. So far, three other officers from elsewhere on the ship are reported missing. One was seen being transported. ::Koral’s hard expression broke for a second into one of disgust and worry.:: Koral: Thank you, Lieutenant. If you have any further updates, please let me know immediately. ::Sataal nodded. That was the closest that Koral would make to an apology in public, but it was understood.:: Koral: Bring up the commander of the Stol’vas. ::The viewscreen changed from the scarred hull of the Vorax to the bridge of the Stol’vas. Koral: =/\= Commander M’Vas, what is your status? =/\= M’Vas: =/\=We have almost eliminated the other vessel… their shielding has been rather resilient. It appears they were aware of our disruptor frequency. =/\= ::The image shook as the Stol’vas came under fire.:: M’Vas: Also Commander, our science officer has also found Orion bio-signs on board. Koral: oO Orion?! Oo =/\= Eliminate the ship and the join formation by the Vorax… =/\= ::Before M’Vas could respond, a voice called out from the background.:: Stol’vas Officer: =/\= Commander, enemy vessel on collision course. =/\= M’Vas: =/\= Pilot, evasive, emergency speed. =/\= Stol’vas: =/\= Helm unresponsive, sir! =/\= ::The signal then turned to static.:: Koral: M’Vas! Comm Officer: ::in frustration:: Signal cut at the source, Commander… ::Koral’s face turned to horror he saw the Stol’vas move on thrusters while the burning hulk of the Zalkonian vessel headed at flank speed. :: Koral: Koral, tactical officer, are we in weapons range? Tactical: Barely, commander. The D’Narax is moving in toward the vessel. The last Zalkonian vessel is pursuing it. Koral: Lock weapons and fire at will…. Pilot: Commander! ::Koral faced the screen as he saw the D’Narax open fire. But it was too late. The bow of the Zalkonian ship rip into the Stol’vas, ripping off one of its wings. The D’Narax tried to move off, but the last Zalkonian vessel headed at full speed, ramming into it as well. The horror was not done yet. The screen turned bright white as one of the Zalkonian vessels self-destructed violently. When the flash was gone, there was nothing but debris:: ::Koral was stupified. He sat in his chair, completely still. The bridge was silent. Sataal ran over to the empty science station.:: Sataal: ::looking at sensors, slowly:: Both warbirds are destroyed, Commander. No survivors. Koral: ::quietly:: Damn Orions. ::Now, Koral would have no choice but to withdrawal. A greater crisis appeared to be approaching as well.:: Koral: Are we in range of the Starfleet ships’ weapons? Tactical: Yes, we are but they have not locked on us. Koral: Very well… Hail the lead vessel. Comm Officer: Yes, Commander. ::Sataal came over with a concerned expression.:: Sataal: ::quietly:: What are you planning, Commander? Koral: Our withdrawal. We have lost enough comrades for one day. I know it is not Federation policy to act vengefully, but I have had enough surprises today as well. ::Sataal never saw Koral so humbled.:: Comm Officer: I have the commander of the Thunder… Koral: =/\= Admiral, it looks like it has been a day of surprises for all of us. =/\= Turner: =/\= Yes, Commander, I would have to agree - one surprise being, your reason for this call. =/\= Koral: =/\= I wanted to inform you that we will be withdrawing from this system. My apologies for the intrusion today… it seems to have been a most imprudent decision, probably one of many leading to this day.=/\= Turner: =/\= I see. Apology accepted. Fate has a way of surprising us in many different ways. =/\= ::Koral thought carefully. Some would say the destruction of Romulan vessels would be just desserts. He did not care for Starfleet, but Koral thought it worthwhile to mention their discovery of the Orions of the enemy ships. He would be in no position to eliminate them, but perhaps Starfleet could.:: Koral: =/\= Another thing, Admiral. Pay attention to the Orions… we detected some on the vessel that destroyed the Stol’vas. It appears we have grossly underestimated their power of influence... even within our own ranks. =/\= Turner: =/\= We are fully aware of their influence in the system, but I do appreciate your concern. Have a nice trip, Commander. Rear Admiral Turner Out.=/\= Commander Koral IRW Draxan Romulan Star Empire As simmed by: Lt. JG Savan Tactical/Security Officer Embassy of Duronis II/USS Thunder-A Writer ID: E239303S10
  15. ((Sickbay – USS Gorkon)) ::A crew, trapped by the strangeness of the galaxy and for the pleasure of a sadistic playwright named Murphy, who wrote a law about things getting worse. A Sovereign class starship, once the pride of the Menthar Corridor, now battered with holes and breaches that looks like it's ready for the junk heap. One year, spent in hell. One battlefield, where chaos reigns supreme. All hell was breaking loose here on this vessel, and things only had gotten worse since their attack on DSX.:: ::CD had read what reports came through after the attack, and knew the fragile condition of the crew. He could feel it in their emotions as they looked at him, and his meditations had done nothing to help ease his mind or their pain. In his capacity as morale officer, his jokes were falling flat. Many of them had given up trying to laugh at his jokes, and some didn't remember how to laugh anymore. He didn't know what was going on outside of Sickbay, except that alarms were going off everywhere, from what speakers still worked. Consoles flickered, equipment functioned on a good day, and not very well on a bad one. Their luck just kept getting worse.:: ::The cacophony of Sickbay was a mixture of people shouting for help, nurses and docs calling out for different medications. Wounded came in a few at a time; some on stretchers, some on the shoulders of their comerades, and some just on their own. The number of wounded meant that all those days CD had spent working part time in Sickbay were a sunny day by comparioson to this -- the latest victim of the attacking battleship as two security officers rushed in carrying a third, and shouting for help.:: ::Alucard was busy with another patient when these three came in, and the Irishman's sense of urgency assumed a new height as he called out the name of the victim.:: Vess: Kael! ::Alucard, Chythar, and Marcus all converged on their friend. Kael was the first face that CD had actually seen when he came aboard the Gorkon, and had been uneasy seated in the captain's chair during that mission. To see a fellow teal-collar in such a state was a terrible omen, and it was things like this that made him realize how much he missed his own efficient secretary, one Gabrielle Porchevska off of the Invicta. The omen, in this case, was that when one doc went down, more would follow. He'd lived through this omen before, aboard the Excalibur when a suicide bomber on Argurtha practically blew him and Dr. MacLaren into itty bitty pieces.:: Vess: Looks like plasma burns! Security Off: A conduit blew as he was climbing out of one of the tubes! ::The officers seemed to be panicking around him. The only thing CD could do was attempt to calm them down. His jokes weren't what was needed here. A few calming words were, as it couldn't do any harm.:: Skyfire: ::to the security officer:: Just take a few breaths and try to calm down. Drake: You’ve done the right thing and got him to us, we’ll take it from here. Vess: Get him on a bed. ::CD helped whomever it was get Kael onto one of the functioning beds, and silently hoped that their equipment wouldn't fail mid surgery. Their patience worn, his calm sorely damaged but still holding, much to his surprise. As the former occupant of the biobed made his way off to make way for the critical burn patient, he could make out the FO slapping his badge. From what time Chythar had spent learning the relationships of those around him, he knew that Kael and Quinn were friends at the very least. He wasn't sure to what degree, but relationships tended to solidify over time.:: Vess: =/\=Sickbay to Bridge. =/\= ::CD was doing all he could to anticipate Vess's orders and grabbed what little koltane gel they had, along with a functioning tricorder. He missed most of the conversation between Alucard and Quinn, but managed to tune in just as he heard her voice giving them a direct order.:: Reynolds: =/\= Do what you can. It won't be long, either way. =/\= ::Raw emotion was audibile in her words, as was the smooth determination he knew she had. It was one thing to express such emotions in private over coffee, but it was a completely different circus to break down mid-crisis in front of one's crew. In order to ensure their survival, that could not happen. The crew needed her to stay in one piece. He felt that he needed her to stay in one piece, to keep himself sane. If they ever got out of this mess, he'd be scheduling therapy appointments for himself. He had promised himself that time and time again.:: Vess: =/\= Understood.=/\= Skyfire: Tricorders are fried... ::Alucard turned to his fellow doctors as the channel closed. They didn’t have much time if they stood even a fraction of a chance to save Kael’s life.:: Vess: Let’s get to work. Dr. Drake, start him on painkillers and antibiotics. Oh, and throw in a sedative, Ah dunna want him waking up like this. Chythar, those burns on his chest will make breathing difficult. Set up fer an escharotomy. Skyfire: Aye, sir. ::He began to set up what he could. They didn't have much time to do so, as the Trill's condition was indeed bad. CD thought back to the shuttle craft victim he first treated and recalled the procedure well enough to carry out Alucard's orders to the letter. Once the Trill was on oxygen, and in between incisions, his hands started to shake once more as the horrors of his practice returned to haunt him.:: Skyfire: oO Not now, Stripey! I'm busy! Oo Drake: Sweet dreams. :: Marcus said under his breath as he applied the sedative and the reported that to the others:: Patient's medication applied. ::There was no answer, which implied that either CD himself was dying or that there was just too much going on in his mind for the damned striped nuisance to make an appearance. A running gun battle was heard moving toward Sickbay, and a few of the security officers left the room to intervene and prevent them from reaching the medical ward. It was the best they could hope for. The pain, panic, and fear was starting to overwhelm him.:: Drake: Shock to the nervous system looks pretty severe but not unrecoverably so. Vess: Very good. Check his vitals. ::Skyfire took another breath and exhaled just as slowly, forcing his hands to steady themselves in order to continue his efforts to save Kael. He gave a slow nod as his answer, not willing to risk words until he'd finished. He was calm, but nervous at the same time. Once the incisions were finished, he glanced up at Alucard for their next move.:: === Lieutenant Commander Chythar Skyfire Chief Medical Officer USS Gorkon, NCC-82293 History Team Co-Facilitator Medical Duty Post Facilitator Dear Doc Columnist Podcast Script Writer O239002CS0 http://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php/Chythar_Skyfire
  16. ((USS Conny - Engineering)) ::A new song hummed in the seemingly never ending path; Jackal, Lumberjack. The rev of a chain saw presented its uniqueness in time with the vocals. One of their more dynamic titles. Rustyy flopped, more like fell due to gravity being stronger than him, onto his butt. He was really tired now, so much so that with engineering being closer, it looked like he would be crashing there for the night. That he would complain, he felt safer there, surrounded by non judgemental things. People could be judgy, equipment went unbiased. It took a few more breaths before he could breath without sounding like an asthmatic kid in gym class.:: Hael: ::looking up.:: You know wha's? ::he asked innocently.:: We is perdy .... Odd. I was tha' way no matter wha's, but I'm'a glad I ain' alone. ::he smiled softly.:: ::And he meant it. His shoulders sagged, as his body gave up trying to hold him up with good posture. Little beads of sweat rolled down from curly bangs.:: Foster: Yeah... odd... ::trailing off, he looked Rustyy dead on, blue eyes searching.:: Really? Hael: Real’y, real’y ::he spoke softly and comforting, like a boyfriend comforting his girlfriend, assuring her she looked good no matter what. Because - beauty was in the eye of the beholder. He gave Wyn a crooked boyish smile.:: Foster: Hey, I hate being alone, too. ::He admitted evenly.:: I'm glad you're here, even if you don't like running. ::Light groan. Correction, he hated running. But he like Wyn, so here he was, spending a sleepless night on a holodeck, running. He was going to sleep for the rest of shoreleave at this rate.:: Hael: I’m’a sure there be a few folks you’d be happier runnin’ with. ::light chuckle.:: ::He didn’t move when Wyn brought his face in closer to his. Just looked further into those blue eyes. He couldn’t help it, he had a soft spot for the pools that reflected depth and emotion. :: Foster: Nope, no one else on the ship that I'd rather be running through a holodeck with while deliriously tired. Hael: ::it was his turn to turn colors, red tinging his cheeks and ear tips.:: Me too. ::Well he could do without the running in general, but as it stands it wasn’t the worst thing. He smiled, eyelids just started to drop a little when suddenly he was being embraced by something warm. A hug. He froze for a micron of a second, before returning ten fold. He was surprised at the warmth that came from Wyn, and the strength he projected in the hug. There was a sudden swell building up just behind his eyes. Not from lack of hugs, he had a family that was all about that. And he’d hug just about anyone. No, they came from a dark, dusty, forgotten part of his mind. From an area that had been under lock and key and threatened to be burned down if it ever came out to bother him. Saved by the awkward bell, the black abyss retracted as the hold did. Rustyy joined in a coughing game. The only time running had done him any good, he was already flush from the physical activity so it was harder to tell he had been so close to tears. It was like a [...] being broken, both past issues and current stress and exhaustion compiled and compacted, finally given a chance to let loss. Foster: I, uh, think we should go to bed. ::cough, cough, he turned bright navy.:: Hael: ::pause.:: Yea’... You won’ tell no one’s ‘bout me sleepin’ ‘round righ’? ::he smirked and giggled a little. Is was a blessing and curse to have such an easy going, goldfish brain.:: Foster: Nope, I won't even tell anyone that you tuck in by the warp core. ::He pulled himself up, with a hefty grunt, groan, moan, huff, puff and sigh. His legs had turned to noodles, lower back stiffened, and eyes burned from unshed tears and being to dry. He stumble out after Wyn towards the exit of the holdeck.:: Hael: Eh, ::he shrugged on second thought.:: I reckon them’s couldn’ think any less of me. Foster: Get some sleep, Rustyy - I'll see you... like tomorrow morning. ::a fond wave:: Hael: You too’s Wynnie. ::he returned the wave.:: ::He stood still for a moment, watching after the Andorian. His legs were uncooperative and his brain functions minimal. There was just enough to get him back to his room, into the shower, and to the couch. A table top would have been just as comfortable. Emptiness consumed him, pulling him down into a dreamless sleep.:: ~~ Lieutenant Commander Rustyy Hael Chief Engineer USS Conny A239202RH0
  17. ((Deck 7, Shayne and Pond's Quarters, USS Darwin-A)) ::Shayne wished he was knitting.:: ::It was a peaceful, productive, time consuming activity that offered a level relaxation could sometimes border on catatonic meditation. As one became more practiced and skilled, new projects and more difficult goals could be sought and completed. One's dexterity might also improve with prolonged execution of the art form, and, when all was said and done, everyone enjoyed receiving a fuzzy sweater from a loved one or friend.:: ::And apart from all these wonderful benefits, the act of knitting had one very important feature; unless you screwed up, the quality and size of a project is directly proportional to the work and time put into it. You could earn progress. The more you worked, the more you achieved. If only every activity in the universe could be that fair.:: ::But, of course, there were a multitude of exceptions, and as Shayne glowered at the computer terminal before him, he rued this fact. After all, he'd been sitting there for nearly an hour, straining to think of something to say, and what had he to show for his valiant effort? An empty data packet, a bad mood, and a pulsing headache.:: ::How could it be this difficult to send a simple communiqué to someone? He wasn't informing a family about a death, or anything like that. For god's sake, all he wanted to do was talk to family. How long had it been? A year? Longer?:: Shayne: Computer, start recording. ::Beep. It was as if the computer were saying, you're on.:: Shayne: Hi, Dad. It's been awhile. I, uh...I hope you're doing okay. I'm sorry I haven't contacted you for so long- things have been pretty intense out here. ::Growling in frustration.:: No, no, that's terrible. Computer, pause. Delete that last sentence. ::Dad wouldn't want to be reminded of the fact that he was not in the service anymore, or that his eldest was stationed in the line of fire of a hundred different alien threats. Shayne knew that his father's love for him conflicted with his desire to keep the young helmsman out of harm's way. The contradiction put a constant strain on the retired admiral, and Shayne was loathe to add to that worry any more than absolutely necessary.:: Shayne: Computer, continue. ::Beep.:: Shayne: The Delta Quadrant has held some...interesting surprises. ::Perfect. It was simple, informative without suggesting that most of the interesting surprises in particular were dangerous and even life threatening. The second thing that his father had ever taught him, long before he'd been indoctrinated into the Academy, was that honesty was paramount, and the truth was far too important a thing to be omitted or tampered with.:: Shayne: I just came back from a bit of an explore inside the Dyson Sphere I'm stationed near. You should've seen it. I've seen some weird stuff in my time, but few things compared to this. Holographic technology beyond anything anyone's ever seen! ::Pointedly omitting the more dangerous aspects of the last mission, and the one before it (and the one before that...), he moved on.:: Shayne: I'm, uh... I'm with someone. ::Here he smiled.:: Name's Isabel. A Trill doctor serving on the same ship as me. It's... pretty serious. ::Smiling awkwardly.:: We've moved in together. Yeah. She's wonderful. Kind and compassionate. A hell of a medical officer, and a talented dancer to boot. I'm beyond lucky to have her. Next time we're within distance of Earth, I have to introduce y'all. ::He pinched the bridge of his nose. What else did he have to say? So, so much. What was he going to say? Not much else. He'd wanted to, perhaps without even realizing it. So much he wanted to confront, to get off his chest.:: ::There is a certain point that a person reaches, where they have subjected themselves to so much self-ridicule and hatred and disgust, that they're mind becomes accustomed to it. From then on, each reminder of the reason for that hatred does not illicit a feeling. Rather, it manifests itself as a shape, a sound, a color. It passes through the back of your mind like an unholy shade traversing a graveyard. All the memories and feelings associated with it wrapped up into one dreaded totem.:: ::Now that shade passed behind his eyes. Grey and lingering, it obscured his thoughts and tainted his joy. Dad, he knew, forgave him his trespass. Mom did, as well. And Zach, ironically, was perhaps the most eager to forgive, the most willing. In fact, the only person in the universe that seemed to be unwilling to forgive was himself. This was why he didn't want to contact his father, or anyone who knew. Out here in the wilderness of unexplored space, he could run, and hide, and forget. By contacting his family, he was awakening those memories, those not-quite-feelings. And that was something that had to be avoided.:: Shayne: I'll talk to you... Shayne: oO When? Oo Shayne: Sometime. Love to you and....everyone. Be safe. ::With that, Shayne ended the message, and transmitted it to the Endeavor, which would carry it to the Alpha Quadrant. He hesitated before hitting the send command, but only for a moment. It would be good to catch up with family, he told himself. Very good.:: END Lieutenant Randal Shayne Helmsman USS Darwin NCC 99312-A G239202RS0
  18. ((Shooting Range -- Starbase 118)) ::Trellis held his hand steady as instructed. Aim. Breathe. Exhale. Fire. He was, yet again, wide of the mark. He howled in frustration and threw his hands in the air. ::It didn’t help his annoyance level that Kaitlyn promptly fired a quick succession of shots that all hit true. He stared at her, barely concealed anger in his eyes. His nostrils flared as he breathed heavily. Why had he let him talk her into this? He was never going to get better, no matter how long he practiced. ::Yes, phasers were important in modern society. Being able to hit something on a mission was vital. He had seen that for himself during the rescue. Yet he had proven himself to be next to useless in that department. ::He watched again as she calmly fired another few rounds. So deadly. So precise. So cold and calculating. He stared at her hands. Though he had touched those hands when she was lying in sickbay he was suddenly filled with fear of them. Those same hands that had killed the Orion woman, Khante. Those same hands that now held a phaser that could, with a flick of the wrist, be pointed at him. ::He trusted her enough not to act on him with those hands, but it was a close thing.:: Vondaryan: I don’t see how you can ever get good at this! ::Kaitlyn set her phaser down on the table, taking a breath to steady herself.:: ::It was true that she was out-and-about now, no longer under observation. Her family was still close, still ready to help at any moment. She had worked through most of the remaining emotions weighing her down.:: ::When Trellis had asked her for help, however, she could not help but wonder if it was too soon. Too soon for her, to soon for him, too soon for them both. Still, he was a friend in need, and over the last couple days she had not been the best person to her friends. He needed help, she wanted to give it.:: ::Kaitlyn looked over to Trellis, her features remaining calm. While she had managed a smile or two, a lot of the old fire was still dampened.:: Falcon: All it takes is practice. Learning the phaser and how it fires. Are you-- Vondaryan: ::shouting:: Yes I’m following your instructions! Do you see me getting any better? ::Kaitlyn involuntarily flinched back, though this time she managed to keep her mind in the there-and-then. Her memories were still riding very close to the surface, and getting cut off sent her dangerously close to Thomas territory.:: Falcon: Sorry... ::He let out a sigh and with it some of the exasperation he had been feeling. It wasn’t her fault he was a terrible shot. It wasn’t her fault that he never felt comfortable around phasers. It wasn’t even her fault that he was frustrated with the ease with which she fired. He was entirely to blame for all of it. Him and that blasted nerve damage he’d suffered as a child. Ever since he had damaged it he had been just a fraction too slow, suffering a mere second delay in his actions. ::Normally that short timespan didn’t hinder him at all. But in situations where seconds counted, he fell flat. Even in practice a second was the difference between hitting a target and it moving on. In battle it would be even worse, with people moving, dodging, falling, running, throwing obstacles in the way or finding cover. In battle, seconds were the difference between life and death.:: Vondaryan: ::downcast:: Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just rubbish at this. I’ve never been good, and I doubt I’ll ever get better. ::Kaitlyn took another deep breath, trying to release some of the tension she felt. Trellis had not been Trellis since they got back. He was more angry, especially at himself, and even more wary than usual.:: ::Then again, Kaitlyn knew she was hardly herself, either… They had both been run through the wringer…:: Falcon: Let’s… ::Another deep breath.:: Let’s step back, for a minute. Back to step one. ::Kaitlyn grabbed the small PADD which controlled their lanes. The moving targets vanished, replaced by a single static target.:: Falcon: We already know you can hit a still target, but I want us to start there again. After a few, we’ll start in moving again. This time, though, I’ll watch what’s happening. Maybe I’ll be able to see something you can’t? Vondaryan: ::he sighed:: Okay, fine. ::Kaitlyn took a step back, leaning over to watch his stance, his form. It looked spot on with regulations, and was just as she had recommended. (Just because her form worked for her did not mean it worked for everyone.):: ::Clenching his jaw he nodded at Kaitlyn. As he had before Trellis aimed, took a breath and fired. The small beam of light shot out from his phaser, striking its intended target. He let out a small grunt of satisfaction though he didn’t feel particularly proud. Anyone could hit a stationary target, he was proof enough of that. Enemy combatants weren’t often stationary.:: Vondaryan: ::despondent:: Well, I can do that, at least. ::Kaitlyn nodded.:: Falcon: Good. Now, let’s start it moving again. Vondaryan: ::he sighed again:: Well, I suppose the enemy won’t be staying still, will they? Fine, let’s get this over with. ::With a few taps on her PADD, Kaitlyn ordered the target to begin its random series of movements. It started slow, speeding up moderately over time. The longer it went, the faster it moved, and…:: ::He missed. He missed again. Just as he was pulling the trigger, the target dodged out of the way. He was a fraction of a second late each time. Trying to compensate he fired faster and faster, losing his aim as he went. He missed the targets by a wider and wider margin.:: ::Kaitlyn could see it. Trellis was shooting at where the target had been a second before, not where it was. His shots were consistent; had they been a bit faster he would likely have been hitting it.:: ::Finally reaching his limit on frustration, Trellis threw his phaser against the wall in disgust. It didn’t even have the decency to break apart, making him feel even more useless.:: Vondaryan: AAAAGGGHHH!! ::There was no point in containing his rage.:: ::The flashes of rage… So much like her own, only his were uncontrolled, uncontained. Kaitlyn could not help but shrink back, if only for a moment. Her own mental defenses were far from their usual strength. She pushed through it, forcing herself to stay put.:: Falcon: It’s okay, Trellis. That’s why we’re here, to see what’s happening and what we can do about it. Okay? Vondaryan: Really, it’s going to be okay? As soon as a target starts moving I completely miss. HOW is that okay? ::He moved over to his thrown phaser to pick up up and bang it against the wall again. A piece of paneling fell off of it, which Trellis supposed was about all he was going to get out of it. He hung his head to turn back to where Kaitlyn stood.:: ::All the raw emotion in the room, from the both of them, was starting to get to her… When had she become such a wimp? Once again, she pushed ahead. Her friend was hurting as much as she was. If there was some way to alleviate that, she wanted to try.:: Falcon: I could see it, actually. And it gives me an idea. Vondaryan: ::he snorted:: At least one of us has one. And that’s usually my department... ::Kaitlyn tapped the PADD, stopping the target again. She leaned against one of the lane separators, feeling a bit more calm as her mind worked the problem.:: Falcon: Have you ever heard of the EM-33? Vondaryan: ::he tilted his head to look at her:: No, should I have? Falcon: ::Shakes her head.:: Not necessarily. It was the last plasma pistol Starfleet used before phase weapons were introduced. You can still find a few of them out there, though I haven’t had the chance to try one out. Sill, I heard some stories from when they were phased out. Folks who had only covered basic weapons training kept overshooting when they switched to phase pistols. The EM-33 had taught them to lead their targets, whereas phase pistols were as immediate as a phaser. ::If Trellis were in a normal state of mind he would piece together the information Kaitlyn was giving him. Today he was not in a normal state of mind. Rage and frustration mixed with a smattering of fear was keeping him from thinking clearly.:: Vondaryan: So I need to go find an EM-33 and use that? ::Well, the Tower probably did have something in inventory if he really wanted to get his hands on one…::: ::Kaitlyn managed a small smile.:: Falcon: Not QUITE where I’m going. I could see that your shots were on-target… just slow. You were consistently shooting a little behind your target. ::Looks to the target for a moment, then back to Trellis.:: I think you need to treat a phaser like old Starfleet officers treated the EM-33. Lead your target, try to shoot just ahead of it. Make it so that when you shoot, your target will be there when your shot gets there. ::Besides, actually using an EM-33 would probably exacerbate the problem. He would have to lead by an even larger margin.:: Vondaryan: So I just need to know where my target will be before it gets there? Sounds simple. ::Had he just used sarcasm? In his state of mind he couldn’t tell.:: ::It was, and she could hear it plainly. However, she could also understand where it came from. That, and she was not in the state of mind to counter it.:: ::Probably a good thing, too. This was a situation where more sarcasm would do no good.:: ::Kaitlyn took another breath. Dad. She needed to be Dad. Dad was always calm, no matter what situation he might face. She tried to mimic Dad’s tone, keeping her voice smooth and calm.:: Falcon: I never said it was simple, I just said it might be a solution. ::He blinked at her and took a few breaths, trying to listen to what she was actually saying. She was giving him encouragement, not berating him. She wanted to help. Help him to become as effective a killing machine as she was.:: ::Trellis looked down at the broken phaser in his hand. He realized that both he and Kaitlyn were as broken as the phaser.:: ::A sudden spring of emotion welled up inside of him. He tried holding back tears but could not. He wasn’t being fair to Kaitlyn, or to himself. Yes, they had seen a lot in the last mission and experienced their fair share of hardship, but they had survived. Somehow, they had come through. Damaged and broken, but not completely. They needed help to rebuild. That’s what Kaitlyn was offering him. Trellis realized, too, that’s what he was giving to her through this exercise. The strongest steel was tempered through the fires darkness.:: ::He wiped the tears away from his eyes. He steeled his jaw. There was a renewed look of determination in his eyes when he looked to Kaitlyn again.:: Vondaryan: Right. Lead the target. Anticipate where it will be. Shoot it. ::he took a breath.:: I can do this. ::Kaitlyn could feel her own chest catch for a moment at the confirmation… They really were equally broken, each in their own way.:: ::If he was game to continue, then so was she. Kaitlyn held up the PADD.:: Falcon: You can do this. ::As she set the targets in motion again he tried to concentrate on where his targets would be in a fraction of a second, not where they were. Moments later he’d hit the proper space. Not with any finesse or eloquence, but enough to register as a hit. Moments later, he did it again. And again.:: Vondaryan: ::smiling at Kaitlyn:: Well, it’s not pretty, but it counts, right? ::For the first time in a while, Kaitlyn was able to give a real smile. Seeing Trellis smile was a bit of a balm; she had been able to help. Or at least, it seemed that she had.:: ::Now, she would probably ask for St. Eliza’s prayers that he would never actually NEED those skills. He was WAY too peaceful a guy to be shooting anyone, even on stun. Still, should he ever find himself with no other options, at least he would have this to fall back on.:: Falcon: ::Keeps her smile up, giving a nod.:: I’d say it counts plenty. As the saying goes, ‘Practice makes perfect’. Vondaryan: ::chuckling:: I guess it does. ::He sighed, releasing with it all the frustration, anger and fear he had built up over the past hour they had been practicing. He felt lighter, more calm. He could feel his mind clearing from all its negative thoughts.:: ::As she saw Trellis visibly calm, Kaitlyn felt a bit more calm as well. Not quite 100%, all weight off chest, or something like that. If her read was right, she had helped. That was something.:: Falcon: So? Vondaryan: This was… ::He wouldn’t say fun. Phasers were never fun.:: Something… ::he tilted his head at her, some of the mischievous look he kept hidden back in his eyes:: Now, I could use a good game of chess. You in? ::To that, Kaitlyn actually managed a chuckle.:: Falcon: Well, to be honest, I’ve never been particularly good at chess. Vondaryan: ::his eyebrows shot up:: Oh, even better. Now I can give you a bit of payback. ::She gave another chuckle. Trellis was absolutely right about that one.:: Falcon: Fair point. I DID just give you a metaphorical butt-kicking in here. Vondaryan: So...? ::he let it trail off, anticipation in his voice:: ::Kaitlyn shrugged, but smiled as she did so.:: Falcon: Why the hell not? ::Chuckles.:: I’m in. Vondaryan: ::smiling:: I know just the place! Have you been to the 8x8? ::Without even waiting for a response he headed out the door, the perfect chess match on his mind.:: -- Lieutenant Commander Trellis Vondaryan Chief of Intelligence StarBase 118 Ops O239208TV0 And =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Lt Commander Kaitlyn Falcon Chief Helm Officer Starbase 118 / U.S.S. Albion F237507RF0
  19. ((Engineering, USS Za)) :: As soon as Laura entered engineering she knew something wasn't quite right, it didn't sound right. She couldn't put her finger on it at first, then she noticed the warp core it wasn't glowing or make the usual humming sound she was accustom too. :: :: She moved quickly towards the warp core and heard people busying around. :: Human crewman: Ready to reactive reactor injectors Bajoran crewman: Go ahead. I'll monitor the anti-matter flow from here. :: Laura watched as the warp core light up, it was an impressive site. :: Andorian crewman: Reaction is increasing steady. Bajoran Crewman: Keep an eye on it. It takes about 30 minutes for it reach operation levels. Give me a shout if there are any problems. :: Turning to the human crewman:: Run the standard warp core initialisation diagnostic sequences. I'll be back in 20 minutes. Human crewman: Understood, sir. :: Laura moved to intercept the Bajoran crewman as he walked away from the warp console. :: Baxter: Ensign Laura Baxter, nice to meet you. Vreya: Chief Petty Officer Vreya Kima, I'm a little busy at the moment :: He continued walked and Laura quickly followed behind. :: Baxter: If you could just give me an update on the current situation? Vreya: What is your role? Baxter: Acting Chief Engineer ::Proudly:: :: Vreya stopped and turned, looking her over intently. :: Vreya: What happened to Lieutenant T... Te..., I can't remember his name ::He said shaking his head:: and Lieutenant Phillips, I think it was his assistant? Baxter: I don't actually know ::Honestly:: I was ordered to transfer about 2 weeks ago weren't you informed. :: Vreya shook his head :: Vreya: Do you know when your replacement will arrive? :: Laura shoke her head, but she couldn't hide the surprise from her face.:: oO My replacement Oo ::She hadn't though about the fact that they may be sending someone experienced to replace her. :: oO But I am only acting Oo Vreya: How long have you been out of the academy? Baxter: 2 months ::Embarrassed:: oO That doesn't sound great Oo But I have lead teams during my days as a civilian engineer. Vreya: It's a bit different being in the military. If you need any help just ask. I've taken Crewman Behl over there :: pointing to Andorian :: under my wing. Baxter: I'll bear that in mind. ::Slightly frustrated:: Vreya: Anyway need to get back to work. :: Kima walked away. After a few seconds Laura realised that she hadn't got the answer to her question. She considered chasing after him, but now felt very uncertain of herself and didn't want to face him again. :: :: Laura went to hide away in the engineering office, not ready to face anyone else. She pulled up the personnel record for Vreya. He was 45, with over 25 years experience serving on starships. :: oO No wonder he didn't respect me Oo :: Laura read further. He had a wife and two children who were onboard and he had joined the starship during it's refit on starbase 118. She closed the record, she was getting distracted and pulled up the current status. It looked like the warpcore had been shut down due to the need to make some adjustments due to diagnostic amoralities with it's interaction with the slipstream drive. :: Solzano: =/\= This is Fleet Captain Zalea Solzano to all Za personnel. Please board the Za at your earliest convenience. We will be departing at 1000 hours, at which point all officers should report to their Alpha Shift posts. ::beat:: Solzano, out. =/\= :: Listening to the communication, Laura decided it would be best to stay in engineering and monitor the situation with the warp core, then once they were going steady she would report to the captain. Though she would monitor from a distance, as she was still feeling a bit uneasy about her authority after her conversation with Kima. :: Ensign Laura Baxter USS Za Acting Chief Engineer ID number: E239306LB0
  20. (( Weapons Evidence Laboratory – Security Complex, Starbase 118 Operations Tower )) :: Seven hours. That’s how long Sanara Pran had been sat inspecting the weapons seized from the marauder Krayvet. Seven hours of tedious scanning, tagging and bagging- or some cases binning. For what amounted to a handful of Orion privateers, they had amassed a collection of weapons so large, it would make a Klingon battalion jealous. Some were standard Orion crafted knives, designed to be hidden from view discreetly, there were several ceremonial Klingon knives that Sanara swore smelt of dried blood, an assortment of Reman daggers and even a Jem’Hadar kar’takin. The fact that these men had possibly killed a Jem’Hadar warrior was disturbing. Or it would have been if Sanara had not of lost the will to live. As she placed another weapon under the scanner and peered into the viewing hood to examine it for possible identification marks or striations, she sighed heavily, hoping that it was not too long until the end of her shift. Checking the chronometer in the corner of the hood, she groaned as she realised she had another three hours till she was due to finish. Leaning back up, she got to her feet and yawned, rubbing the back of her neck. The tiredness was real. Making her way across the evidence lab, she came to a stop in front of the replicator. :: Pran: Shot of espresso. Computer: Please choose from one of the sixty seven different flavours of espresso. :: Rolling her eyes, she let out another sigh, as the replicator displayed a list of all the available flavours. All she wanted was something to keep awake, rather than a thousand and one questions with the replicator. She pressed a flavour at random without paying it much mind, hoping it would be pleasant and not targ-flavoured. :: Computer: Thankyou. :: beat :: Please select from the selection of available cup designs. :: That elicited another audible groan from the tired and now irked security officer. :: Pran: Computer, I don’t care what kind of cup my espresso comes with, or the kind of espresso I have. I just want an espresso!! Computer: Please restate request. Pran: :: to herself :: Trillus preserve me. :: beat :: I have no preference, surprise me. Computer: Understood. Cup design will be randomised. :: beat :: Please specify temperature. Pran: :: the last nerve gave in, and she looked at the replicator with a loathesome look. :: I. don’t. CARE. :: beat :: Why am I being asked a million questions? Why can’t you just give me a regular espresso?! Computer: It is help you make an informed choice. Pran: :: snapping :: My choice is this: regular espresso, hot…. And I don’t care about the cup design. It could have a seh’lat dancing to Lady Shadonna on it for all I care. :: The computer chirped affirmatively and the tired security officer snatched the drink from the replicator pad and downed the bitter beverage in one gulp, before putting the cup down on the pad again with a dark scowl. With another heavy sigh, she returned to the scanner and carried on with her tedious assignment. :: -- Lieutenant Sanara Pran (Disgruntled) Security Officer Starbase 118 Operations as simmed by: Lieutenant Commander Theo Whittaker Executive Officer StarBase 118 Ops C239203TW0
  21. ((Arboretum, Deep Space 32)) ::It was a strange thing, this need for nature. And it was a need, a telling mark of the tether that bound them to planets; to ground and open sky and growing things. They were, all of them, creatures of living worlds, not truly adapted to an existence in space, however much their technology might allow them to move through the dark between the stars. And so they brought these little pieces of planetary ecology with them.:: ::The trees of Deep Space 32's Arboretum were majestic, the small patch of grass lush and inviting, to those who were accustomed to such things. Green, rich, humid, with the trickle of water in the background. Nothing like home; nothing like arid plains, dry orange skies and red vegetation of Vulcan. His world, like his people, were an anomaly amongst the humanoids of the galaxy; one exercise in extremes. But they were not the only one.:: ::And now they were venturing to another extreme, the deep galactic south, far beyond Federation borders. I was the kind of exploration that called to him, even as he left things behind. But such was the nature of a career in Starfleet. From the Embassy on Duronis II to the previously little-explored Menthar Corridor aboard a series of ships; theMercury, Garuda and finally Invicta. And now further afield still, on the newly refurbished USS Za.:: ::The ship was unknown territory as, quite probably, were all his crewmates. Perhaps a few might be familiar, but he understood that the crew was drawn from across Starfleet. The Captain was an unknown as well, but he understood that they shared both a career in Starfleet Medical and a concern for the plight of the Romulans. Perhaps that was why he had been requested. The unknown would require flexibility and diplomacy, if the space they were to explore was anything like that they were leaving.:: ::There would be time enough to meditate on that, and on other things.:: Saveron: Saavok.::He called to his son.:: It is time to board the ship. ::The young Vulcan boy looked up from where he was investigating a heretofore unencountered plant with the kind of enthusiastic and slightly destructive interest of young children everywhere.:: Saavok: Yes father. ::He would rather have stayed, but he knew they had to go. Every movement took them further from the Corridor and the friends he had made. Even if those friends also came and went as their parents transferred. Such was regrettable, but it was a consequence of his choice to accompany his father.:: ::Brushing off the knees of his trousers, the boy picked up a small carry-cage and approached his father. The white angora tribble in the cage began to coo at the movement. After a moment the two set out together in the direction of the ship dock.:: Saveron: Our possessions will have been conveyed to our quarters. We shall go there directly. Saavok: Do you know whether there are any other children on board? Saveron: Negative, however I will enquire on your behalf. ::He had already resolved to do so, aware of his son's preference for companions of his own age.:: Saavok: At least it's a long mission. It will not be easy for them to transfer away. ::He mused.:: ::Saveron let the comment go. His son expressed excessive regret at their departure from the Corridor, but emotional suppression was not the easiest discipline when one was nine.:: ::They both left friends behind, those whose company they considered preferable. Some more than most. But in some cases a clean separation was preferable to the unanticipated difficulties surrounding continuing association with one with whom he had been... very close.:: ::Such things were in the past. As they approached the umbilical joining the ship to the station, the only way to look was forward to the future. If it was anything like his time in the Menthar Corridor, it would be full of fascinating challenges.:: END Commander Saveron Chief Medical Officer USS Za R238802S10
  22. ((Delta Quardant, Pouiyeog region, USS Darwin-A, Deck 7, Holodeck 1, Above Outpost Unity)) ::The gentle breeze stirred the grass as Kurt stood on the small hill overlooking the valley with its grass covered lowlands that stretched out before him. The middle ground held a sprawling woodland birds flying from its canopy, a river meandered in from its left side and emerged from its right and even at this range the effects of the fish within it could be made out. As the sun shone down making the water sparkle the woodland appeared to be a dark emerald sitting proud on a silver necklace. Out to the left a small stone built house stood, a thin lazy trail of smoke rising from its chimney into the valley still air, tended gardens of flowers and crops spread from the house, the bark of a dog just reached the hill Kurt was stood on quickly joined by a deeper note. The two owners of the noises came into view a large hairy wolfhound of a dog tall and thick chested, the second a small more wiry short coated animal sprinted from around the house being chased then turning to chase the three children with them. The house to the door stood open as a dark haired woman lent in the doorway an easy grace shone from her as the squeals of delight from the children mixed with the barks of the dogs as the grassy area in front of the house was changed into part raceway part game of chase where no one knew or cared about rules or turns:: ::Stepping backwards Kurt sat in the well-worn wooden high backed chair, padded and covered with large yellow flowers on a vibrant green background, just like every grandmother had in their homes, it did seem a mystery of the universe how no matter what the race such chairs existed everywhere as if it was a subtle hidden message that no matter who you were there was little difference at the end of the day between anyone:: Logan oO It’s just a shame not everyone listens to that Oo ::Sitting in the chair Kurt cradled his drink as his gaze shifted to the smooth three foot tall rounded top piece of granite that stood upright within easy reach of the chair:: Logan: You’ve missed quite a bit my old friend Friend: That’s an understatement….. I’ve been dead for several years so I’d say I’ve missed more than a bit ::Looking up at the sound of the voice Kurt looked into the tanned face and dark hair of a man he knew well but hadn’t seen for long years. He felt emotion rise and forced the eyes that threatened tears to stop and dry back up, the man before him wasn’t part of the program he hadn’t programmed him into it way back when:: Friend: Of course I’m not part of the program you loon, you may be good at shooting and hitting things but don’t every apply for a science role will you ::The chuckle that rose up was infectious and welcome standing up he matched the height of his friend but outweighed him by fifty odd pounds, but as he looked he saw none of the lines or worry that seemed to now be a fixture on his own face:: Logan: You would have liked the Dyson Sphere investigation right up your alley Friend: More brains than brawn you mean… ha ha .. oh Logan you always make me laugh you can out think the best of them but choose to hide behind the rifle …….. ::The sentence stopped as he fixed his gaze:: Ok I know that look what are you up to ? Logan: Nothing why ? Friend: Because you’re going to do something stupid again aren’t you …. Logan: No I …. Friend: yes you are, like the time you challenged Nelvek our Vulcan unarmed combat instructor to a contest Logan: That’s because you said I couldn’t beat him …. And what happened ?? Friend: Yes you beat him …. Then spent a week in intensive care Logan: But I beat him, the first to do so in twenty years… well if you take out Hannibal Parker and Tyr Waltas of course … and Marios Canto and a few others …. Friend::Laughing:: Ok that is true but you can’t hide from me remember Logan::looking back out across the woodland below them:: It’s for the Captain……. I’ve set up a tracking program for every time he leaves the ship, I’ll be informed of his movements it’s also tied into the medical database to monitor his vital signs in case anyone tries to just move his comm badge Friend: You haven’t …. Logan::Shaking his head:: I haven’t activated it yet, but the programs all set ready to go Friend: What ?, why ? … Kurt you know what will happen if you activate it and it’s found don’t you ?, that has to be against Fleet regulations Logan: FLEET !!! ……. ::The words came out with the emotion that had been held in check but had now found a crack in the [...] and was pouring forth:: Against their regulations why should we care about their regulations, they don’t care about us. If not this way how am I supposed to protect the Captain… headquarters didn’t want to go rescue him… and don’t even begin with that diplomacy rubbish when Lyldra has already told me that they were making no headway as they weren’t talking. No instead they were quite happy to let a Fleet Captain be kidnapped and tortured and their … Help ….. was to tell Commander Traenor to do nothing but wait for a more experienced Captain to arrive, so how many Captains have experience in running a rescue mission for a kidnapped Fleet Captain in an area of space they don’t know while giving the enemy another week’s grace…. How many ??? …. HOW MANY ???? ::As his words disappeared into silence, leaving Kurt breathing mixing in with the faint barks of the dogs and squeals of delight from the children, but it didn’t last as he filled his lungs again Kurt began to speak:: Logan: Then afterward when they’ve been confronted with what one ship did that the whole rest of the vaunted federation couldn’t or wouldn’t do what did they do ? …. Awards ? … Congratulations?….. No i haven’t heard of one message congratulating any of us for the Captains rescue, instead the Commander is moved out to wherever … we can’t embarrass the great UFOP can we oh no …. We have to leave that the people in charge, I bet you anything you like that the J’naii government are sitting their laughing at us, not only is there no comeback but we punish ourselves for them ::That’s when it blew the last brick in the [...] fell away:: TELL ME WHATS THE POINT ?? …… WHATS THE POINT ?? …. WE RISK EVERYTHING OUT HERE AND THEY BASK IN THE ACHIEVEMENTS, BUT AS SOON AS WE TRY AND LEAN ON THEM THEIR GONE LIKE GHOSTS IN THE MIST AND THEN MOAN AT US FOR NOT FOLLOWING TO THE COMMA ON ONE RULE. And now we have new crew on board how do we know they weren’t sent to keep an eye on us and report back … how … you remember Helen Audren put there to report on the training of the section. HOW DO I DEFEND AGAINST OUR OWN PEOPLE …. HOW !!!!!.......... how ? Friend: You are a good friend to all those you know, but somethings you can’t defend things, there beyond your control and scope, you just have to react to them as best as you can. It’s not what you want to hear I’ll admit but that’s just how it is Logan: I know but whose door does it land at if it goes wrong ..there’s or ours ?... which one …::Running his finger and thumb over his eyes Kurt pinched the top of his nose:: I’m just tired … Friend: You never listened to me when I was alive but don’t do anything to stupid your better at things than you think you know Logan:: Looking from his friend to the granite marker:: I listened to you once and I shouldn’t have done …… it’s been a very long day since I last saw you ….. I’ll see you at the end of it. I’ve got to head back now have paperwork to do and thinking to get done ::Seeing his friend smile Kurt lifted his glass:: May your long house be warm, may your battles be glorious and may you annoy your ancestors far more than you did me. I may see you next time my friend ... SKAL ... :: Draining his glass Kurt let his Peach Cooler slide down his throat savouring it's taste., looking back to the now empty space he felt the taste drain away, reaching the door Kurt called out :: Logan: Computer. End program, and erase record of program activation Computer: Record erased Lieutenant Jg Kurt Logan - Security Officer USS Darwin,NCC-99312-A E239203KL0hy
  23. ((USS Constitution-B Williams quarters)) ::Alex was still sitting at his desk checking the local news from Earth when the door buzzer sounded. Wondering who would need to see him this early he grabbed his cup of tea from the desk and made his way to the door.:: Williams: On my way! :: As the door opened up Alex assumed it was Snezhana to report for her extra choirs but it turned out to be Rajel. Since to two of them didn’t meet in their quarters Alex assumed bad news. Someone was sick, dead or missing, it had to be… The somewhat sad look on her face left little doubt :: Rajel: Alex, good morning. I'm sorry to intrude into your time off, but I need to talk with you. Williams: Come in… I assume this inst a social visit? :: Alex prepared himself, names were going through his head like crazy.:: oO Father, Mom, my brother or sisters, SUN! Rajel: Thank you. ::As Rajel took another breath Alex was prepared to grab the PADD from her and see who it was but then she spoke:: Let me get to the point since this isn't getting easier. oO Oh dear here it comes.. By the Prophets of Bajor and the God of my father, please let this sad news pass me…Oo ::He knew what was coming but he still didn’t want to hear it:: I have received transfer orders for you. Williams: What?! oO That’s all!? Oo ::Relieved everyone was alright Alex calmed down. He was relieved to hear no one died but as he thought about what she said he realized this wasn’t any better… He was leaving the Constitution-B! :: Rajel: Believe me, I am not fond of it either. ::Raising the PADD she handed it to him.:: You will be Chief of Tactical and Security on the USS Za. Williams: The Za? :: Alex wondered what talented mind in Starfleet came up with a name like that but before he could ask Rajel told him there wasn’t any time for questions. :: Rajel: Fleet Captain Solzano expects you as soon as possible. So you will have to leave right away. I know it is short notice but ... Williams: Right… Well uhm… that’s a lot to process captain. I thought you were here with bad news about a friend or family. So somewhat relieved it’s not that.. but this isn’t much better… I was really starting to feel at home here. :: It had taken a year to recover from his injuries after the Excalibur and in the past few months he’d finally started to feel useful again. Sinda’s offer to make him chief tactical was certainly a step in the right direction although truth be told he was eager to take on security as well:: ::Alex looked at the PADD, it was his name on the transfer order and he had to admit the position and shortly described mission of the Za seemed very promising:: oO Back where I belong, at the frontier. Oo Williams: Well…::taking a deep breath as he looked around his quarters and thought about the unpleasant job of moving all this things:: I guess I better start packing then… Rajel: Watch out for yourself, Alex. And if you need anything I'm just a call away. Williams: Yeah, I guess this is good by then… really hate to move on sedge short notice but duty calls I guess. ::He walked over to Rajel, shook her hand and wondered if she would welcome a farewell hug. They had known each other for many years but besides his time with Sundassa, Alex wasn’t really the hugging kind of man. :: Williams: Make sure you keep her in one piece captain. She’s a fine ship. ((timeskip)) ::It took Alex about an hour to get all his stuff. It wasn’t that much. Some clothes and a few uniforms easily fitted in his travel bag. The items that took some more time to pack were his weapons, his bow in particular, and the muskets and large painting from his office. He put it all in a cargo container and made sure it would be transported to the runabout that was ready to take him to Starbase 32. When he got to the hanger he thought of all the people he couldn’t say goodbye too, Rustty, the somewhat crazy speaking man in engineering and his sidekick Sindri. There was Wyn, the man that took care of him when he was still crippled and what to think of Milsap and Dial? T’Mar, his old buddy from the Apollo who joined them again as First Officer. The list was longer when he started to think of it. The new helm officer he just met, Sinda, EsAlah, Daniels and Snezhana from his own department. There was Ch’Gabor from science who he never really understood since he talked about things he didn’t know that much about and finally the people from Intelligence. They always had fun in their sealed office and until now Alex never really understood what they did all day. And last but not least there was Zogi. The man that had been with him for almost his entire career. Somehow Alex doubted he’d seen the last of that Ferengi. As Alex made his way to the Runaboat he was welcomed by Porus, a name that hadnt come up yet but was definatly someone he didnt want to leave behind.:: Porus: Sir, we are ready to leave, bridge has cleared us for departure. ::Alex set down next to his Klingon bloodbrother at the co-pilot seat of the Runabout.:: Williams: Its nice of you to fly with me Porus but you don't have to. I'm sure i can find my way to Starbase 32. Porus: Alone? I have swore an oath to protect you, and when commander Sinda informed me of the changes I headed straight for the captain and requested a transfer. She and captain Solzano agreed. So I'm with you on this one Sir. Williams: Are you? That is best news i heard all day my friend. Honored to have you with me. ::knowing the Klingon would keep this professional as always he didn't even think about shaking a hand or giving a hug. He simply smiled at him. And then the console bleeped to signal they were cleared for departure. The last moments of the Conny were here.:: Porus: Bridge reports we are cleared for disembarking sir. Williams: Then take us out Luitenant, full speed to starbase 32 and new adventures… =========================== With great pleasure written as: Lt. Cmdr. Alexander Williams Chief Tactical/Security Officer USS Za
  24. (( Starbase 11 - Strike Lanes Bowling Alley )) :: After Rustyy had left to settle the tab and perhaps throw some balls himself, Sol turned back to Essen with a grin. :: McLaren: So, you ready to give this a shot? Sinda: I guess so. I’m only gonna regret it if I don’t. McLaren: Alright. I’ll go get the shoes… Sinda: Thanks Sol. :: Sol nodded, and headed up to the counter to get them both some incredibly tacky footwear. She soon returned, holding out a pair to Essen :: Sinda: Classy. ::dryly:: :: She leaned back in the seat and plonked her boots on the tabletop. Unlacing them took some time but she finally slipped on the colourful shoes and promptly skidded on the floor, grabbing onto Sol for support. :: McLaren: :: Sol reached out, helping to steady Essen. :: That better? Sinda: Thanks! Seems you’re always there when I need you... McLaren: :: Sol smiled. :: Thats what friends are do. :: Essen opened her mouth to speak. Sol had thrown herself in front of a laser to protect Ess on the last mission, an act of incredible self-sacrifice. All the more so as Ess usually assumed she’d be the one putting herself in front of the gun to protect the crew - she was the Security Chief, after all, that was her job. She’d never even considered that someone would do it for her, and that was going to take a little while to process. But not here, in the middle of a noisy bowling alley. :: Sinda: Sorry, I was thinking of something else. Okay, so how does this game work? :: Sol nodded sitting herself down to put on her shoes, looked up at Essen as she did. :: McLaren: The basics of it are you take one of the balls, theyre all different weights, so find you one thats appropriate for you. And your goal is to get it down to the other end of the lane, and knock down all the pins. And you get two throws to do it. Sinda: Any special tricks to the run up? I’m pretty sure I saw the captain skipping up to the line earlier. McLaren: Not really… everyone sort of develops their own style. :: Shrugging, Essen picked up one of the lighter balls and flung it down the wooden aisle. It bounced a couple of times with loud thuds before dropping into the gutter at the side. :: Sinda: So, not like that then? McLaren: :: Sol laughed, not at Essen exactly, but at the whole thing. :: Hmmm, not exactly. Though… that is what my first go looked like... Sinda: Ah, well I’m in good company then! ::grinning:: :: Sol stood and moved just behind Essen, gently taking her wrist. She was close enough to take in Essen’s scent, the faintest odour of sharp, bitter smoke mixed with old leather, and she found it slightly intoxicating. :: McLaren: The way it was explained to me a long time ago… was that you want it to be a smooth motion in time with your steps, :: Sol mimed a smooth swing as she explained. :: and you want the ball to sort of naturally roll from your grip… Sinda: ‘Smooth’ and me don’t usually go well together. :: Sol stepped back, grinning :: McLaren: Though… I was never able to actually put that into practice… so for all I know the person who told me that could have been full of crap… :: Ess watched Sol for a moment as the other woman talked. Her wrist still tingled from where Sol had held it - Ess couldn’t actually remember the last time someone had touched her, it was that long ago. With affection, anyway. Bar room brawls probably didn’t count. :: Sinda: Guess there’s one way to find out. :: Taking a new ball, Ess took a couple of slow steps towards the lane and released the ball so smoothly it barely skimmed the surface. This time it made it almost all the way to the end before falling into the gutter. :: Sinda: Yeah, I reckon they were full of crap. ::She quirked an eyebrow at Sol:: So who was it who told you? McLaren: An acquaintance back on Earth… Im pretty sure he was just full of crap... Sinda: You know Humans have this reputation for just kicking back and playing games. It’s a wonder you ever found time to found the Federation. I’m serious! You ask any alien and they’ll say the same. Humans are the most laid back race out there. All you guys do is have fun and rest on your laurels. McLaren: :: Sol crossed her arms. :: Not all of us are like that! :: she laughed:: Sinda: Hey I’m just saying! ::she held up her hands:: Anyway, pretty sure it’s your go. McLaren: :: Sol nodded. :: It would appear that way. :: Sol collected a ball, testing its weight. She reached up and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, setting herself up for her first throw. She sent the ball rolling down the lane, watching is it made it nearly to the end before tumbling off into the gutter, only knocking over 2 pins. She frowned. :: :: Essen waited while Sol collected her ball and was concentrating on her run up. She found herself smiling at the way Sol absentmindedly tucked a stray strand of her white hair behind her ear. She was undeniably attractive. Ess was still hesitant though. Fun was one thing, and there had been plenty of ‘fun’ at the Academy, but what if Sol wanted more? The ball veered off a little at the end but it was still enough to knock over a few of the pins. Ess shook her head slightly as the sound brought her back into the present - again, more thoughts for another time. Right now, there was fun to be had. :: Sinda: Are you hustling me? McLaren: :: She shook her head. :: No. I’m really just not that good. Sinda: It’s a good job I still have some tricks up my sleeve. McLaren: Oh really? Like what? Sinda: You’ll see. McLaren: :: Sol [...]ed an eyebrow. :: If you say so… :: This time Ess stayed close while Sol collected her ball. Just as she was about to bowl, Ess gave her a sharp pinch on the bum. :: :: Sol retrieved the ball as it came up from the return and then set up again, starting off on her next throw. A sharp pain in her rear cause her to jump, sending the ball down the lane. It stayed on for a moment, before careening off into the gutter. :: McLaren: Hey! What was that for? Sinda: Oh what a shame, you seem to have missed… McLaren: It would appear that way. :: She grinned. :: So this was the trick you were talking about. Sinda: Well as you’re great tactician Sun Tzu once said, “if at first you don’t succeed, cheat.” McLaren: :: Sol blinked. :: I dont think he said it quite like that... Sinda: ::shrugging:: He might have said it when no-one was listening. McLaren: :: She laughed. :: Fair point. :: Sol gestured to the lane. :: Your turn Ess. :: She winked. She had nothing planned, but thought just the idea that she did might throw Essen off. :: Sinda: Just remember, while you’re planning whatever it is that you’re planning, that I can have you arrested. :: The hybrid selected a heavier ball this time, testing its weight. Satisfied with her choice, she rolled it straight down the middle, knocking over all but two pins at either side. :: :: Sol took a seat watching Essen as she got ready for her next throw. She wondered just what Essen thought of their relationship, and found herself wondering where it would lead. She knew her hopes, but could also only hope they were realistic. She was jolted from her thoughts by the sound of pins falling. :: McLaren: Who’s hustling who, Ess? Sinda: I must have slipped or something. McLaren: A likely story. :: She laughed. :: Sinda: Either that or Earth games are just so easy to learn there’s no real skill involved? McLaren: So Ive been told. :: She nodded. :: Come on then, Ess. Lets see if you can get some more. :: Sol again sat back, watching Essen again. She moved with a sort of calculated elegance, that Sol was almost sure was unintentional. She let her eyes trace over Essen’s form, appreciating her thin build. She made sure to not be openly ogling when Essen turned around after her throw. She had missed how many pins she had gotten though. :: McLaren: oO Youre getting distracted Sol… but what a fantastic distraction… Oo Nice shot. Sinda: Is that sarcasm? I missed them both. :: She threw herself down on the seat opposite Solaris with her usual lack of grace. :: McLaren: :: Sol blushed, caught in her distraction. :: Well, they were nice attempts… :: She was quick to cover, chuckling. :: (( Several frames of bowling later. )) Sinda: It’s getting late. I have some work I need to sort out back on the ship. :: She bent down and started unlacing the bowling shoes. :: McLaren: Oh? Need any help? Sinda: I appreciate the offer, but it’s something a bit… private. Nothing serious, just a thing I need to look into. McLaren: :: Sol nodded. :: Fair enough, still, let me know if you do. Sinda: Looks like just your final frame left. ::she gestured at the scores:: Unless you completely mess it up, I reckon you’ve got me beat. McLaren: :: Sol glanced at the scores, seeing that it was the truth. Her last ball would decided who won or lost, or even if they tied. :: It would seem that way... Sinda: There was one last trick, actually. I wasn’t sure about using it but figure what the hells. McLaren: Well… this I have to see... :: Ess stepped close to Sol until their bodies were touching and in one swift movement slid her arms around the other woman and kissed her. Not a gentle, affectionate kiss but aggressive and passionate, like everything else Essen did. It lasted less than half a minute but felt much longer. Finally Ess stepped back with an impish look in her dark eyes. :: :: Sol was startled for a moment, before feeling herself ease into the kiss. She found herself wishing it had lasted longer when Essen stepped away. :: McLaren: oO ifreann Fola… Oo :: She blinked, still processing what had just happened. :: ( OOC: Roughly: Bloody hell…) Sinda: ‘Night Solaris. Good luck with your last ball. Hope you’re not too distracted… :: Bare-footed and with her boots in one hand, Essen spun on her heel and wandered towards the exit. :: McLaren: ‘Night, Ess... :: Sol watched her retreating form for a moment, then looked back to the lane. Suddenly the game was the furthest thing from her mind. :: Right focus… ball. Down lane. :: Sol picked up the ball she had been using and readied herself. She started her run up and sent the ball down the lane. And then she turned away, almost not wanting to see the final score. She turned back though, and grinned. :: 140-140… After that… thats about what I expected… :: Sol sat down and removed her own shoes, switching into her boots and making her way out of the alley, letting her thoughts wander as she made her way back to the ship. :: ~~~ Lieutenant (JG) Solaris McLaren Chief Intelligence Officer U.S.S. Constitution NCC-9012-B C239210SM0 & Lt Commander Sinda Essen Chief of Security USS Constitution-B R238401JT0
  25. ((No'Vok Prime)) ::Ashes and death. That was all that was left of the small settlement on No'vok Prime, the air still hung heavy with the stink of the bodies of the fallen and the shattered husks of buildings draped in a pall of black, pungeant smoke. There were no survivors to the merciless and brutal attack, only the steady pinging of the automatic distress call that had echoed out of the colony's central communication centre before being little more then another hiss in the background radiation of the system. Dempok's boots crunched in the shattered debris. Where once was six thousand Klingon civilians and workers, there was now nothing save for the last dregs clinging to the sole of his foot. The attack had been unprovoked, unwarranted and a complete act of barbarity that made even his own veteran stomach churn:: Warrior: Councillor, we have found it. ::Dempok turned, his beard flicking in the light breeze as he narrowed his eyes to make out the figure of his small away team clutching a metal box. The last recorded moments of what had been a bustling hive of progress, locked inside the resilient data recorder that every ship, starbase and base carried with them:: Dempok: Good. ((IKS S’Tarahk)) ::There was nothing more to say, no ears to hear the silent prayer he offered the departed to guide them to Sto-Vo-Kor, not that their spirits would find peace, fell in a way that didn't fit the aspirations of any warrior or true citizen of the Empire. The burning vestige mercifully vanished in a red haze, replaced with the dark metal interior of the S’Tarahk's transporter bay. The Warriors took the device with them, no doubt towards the ships computer core as Dempok strode towards the bridge of the narrow Vor'Cha cruiser, his thoughts marred with the sense of anger boiling through his veins. There would be a price to pay for this, a terrible one that would be wrought with his ships disruptor cannons or preferably by his own D'k tahg should the enemy offer an honourable fight, which he doubted.:: Science Officer: The box has been connected, we have the last few minutes of sensor readings, vocal... it is heavily damaged, Sir. ::Dempok gestured towards the viewscreen with a gauntlet-ted finger, the fuzzy image of a Klingon woman appearing suspended in time. Governer Krell, if he remembered correctly. She'd bravely stepped up to offer to administer the colony, despite knowing how deep it was into the frontier, her pioneering spirit would be remembered:: Krell: ..der attack! Coun.... casual... ::The screen froze again, skipping ahead a few moments before the computer finally peiced together what little remained into someting more coherent.:: Krell: This is Goverenor Krell to any imperial ships in range, we are under attack! We have countless casualites... this, this is responsible! ::The screen jumped again to another fuzzy image, slowly coming into focus. A large green blur finding clarity, ice forming in Dempok's chest as he slammed his fist down on his seats large armrest.:: Dempok: D'Deridex... Krell: They are not responding to hails, our planetary batteries are having no effects! We need h- ::There was an explosion, a scream, then nothing save for the Imperial emblem and numbers rolling across the bottom of the screen giving the last telemetry. Energy spikes, temperature readings elevating sharply as the emergency control centre was reduced to constituent atoms.:: Tekal: The Romulans! Honorless dogs... our colony was defenceless! ::His first officer snarled in rage, standing to his flank as Dempok continued to look at the now empty screen.:: Dempok: How many ships do we have in range? Science Officer: None Councillor. The IKS Varaktyl is five days away at maximum warp, B'rel class. ::Woefully inadequate support, a Bird of Prey would do little more then shatter like glass under the warbirds firepower:: Dempok: Did anyone else receive the signal we just triggered? Tekal: The message was sent to high-command automatically as per your instruction. ::By now he had no doubt that the dogs of war were baying in the council's chambers. The same ones that had sent him post-haste to investigate the mysterious signal now validated in their grave concerns. He'd let them watch the results right along with him and rapidly his screen flashed up once again with the grim face of General Crang, the regional imperial military commander. Crang: The Romulans?! What cause would they have to attack us... this cannot go unpunished! Dempok: It doesn't stand to reason, General. None of this does. A single Warbird, attacking an unarmed colony. The Romulans are cowardly and devious I fully agree, but surely they are not this foolhardy... Crang: We may argue if they are or not, but a world of the Empire burns! The evidence speaks for itself, Councillor. Dempok: It does, General. I too wish to avenge every citizen and child of the colony. I can only offer a word of caution, the Romulans are in no position to start a war... ::Crang ignored him, his loud voice barked orders off screen as Dempok lent forward in his chair, fingers steeped. Everything seemed wrong, yet so line with the hit and run attacks a broken Empire would attempt against their adversary if they wanted a war. Hit and run, strike from the shadows... but the choice of target was what caused him concern. No'Vok was a farming world, of no strategic importance. It wasn't local enough to serve as a staging area, it didn't have defences or materials worth more then any average ore. Which meant, it was little more then a target of opportunity. Which meant they -wanted- someone to come and investigate, it was a distraction.:: Crang: The Second and Fifth Imperial Fleets are mobilising as we speak on a war footing Councillor. They will arrive within six days, either stand and defend or get your ship away from there. If it is war the Romulans want, we shall be ready and we will -break- them. Dempok: I will remain General. I may be a politician, but I am a Warrior by birth. ::Crang rewarded him with a begrudging nod of approval before the communication line closed.:: Dempok: Commander, engage cloaking device and sound general quarters. I want every frequency, every communication monitored for any sign of attack. ::For once Tekal nodded, foregoing his usual hot-hotheadedness, before issuing his orders as the ship descended into a noise of klaxons and flickering lights. He muttered quietly under his breath, a single passage from the famed Klingon author who wordsmith-ed war like a tapestry:: Dempok: "Sound trumpets, let our bloody colours wave. And either victory, or else a grave". ::Peace, that had reigned for decades, was beginning to crumble and he was there on the cusp of the wave about to crash upon them all:: MSPNC Councillor Dempok By Major. Tatash Marine Lead SB118 Operations C239108T10
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