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Did you see something memorable aboard the Chin'toka that you want to recognize? Drop it in this thread! Whether it's a mishap or just Toryn being Toryn, this is the place for it.

I couldn’t wait to post about this JP, so I’m sharing this before the final part is released. As Sevantha's mentor, I was lucky enough to get a sneak peek at this JP, and it’s a brilliant piece of writing that had me hooked from the very first page. I could truly feel Mac’s pain, especially in the first half, and Saa completely tore our hearts out. Both Edrei’s and Harford’s parts made me so angry (in the best possible way). The first three parts are below on our ship list and when the final parts are out, they will appear in the link below. @Sevantha @Daniel McGillian Jr @Leenaya Edrei @Alix Harford You four should be so damned proud of yourself and proud of this JP. https://groups.google.com/g/sb118-butler/search?q=[[Backsim]] JP%3A Lt JG Sevantha Saa %26 Daniel McGillian Jr.%2C Ensign Leenaya Edrei %26 Alix Harford - The Need to Connect

A well thought out and prepared prank. Some Lower Deckers could learn a thing or two about how to annoy their CO and FO in a creative (and most importantly: well covered) way. (( Main Engineering, Deck 14, USS Chin’toka )) Is’Kah tilted her head at her station, her fingers flying across her console. She started manipulating the sensor data, gathering what she needed to write a report on the ship’s systems. She could use a few things to get approval to have an official work order approved by the ChEng. After writing several drafts, the hybrid was satisfied. Taking her PADD, she downloaded the document and walked to the Chief Engineer’s office. Is’Kah: Lieutenant, I discovered some concerns with the structural fields on the bridge. I have detected microfractures in several places around the bridge. This kind of damage often occurs after a refit due to the ship adjusting to the rigors of space travel. She handed Xiron her PADD, showing four locations that apparently needed repairs. These locations happened to line up with the best locations for holo-emitters to fully cover the bridge. Coming to parade rest, she watched Xiron review the report. Xiron: Good catch, Sh’za. Approved. Is’Kah: Thank you, ma’am. I will complete the repairs on the night shift tonight. Xiron: Don’t work too late. Is’Kah: ::smiles:: You know me, ma’am. Turning sharply, Is’Kah departed the Chief Engineer’s office but left Xiron with a lingering feeling that her partner had lied to her, as for what, it wasn’t clear. (( OCC- I spoke with Xiron’s writer and received her line approval. )) (( Bridge, Deck 3, USS Chin’toka )) Entering the bridge wearing her toolbox and antigrav boots, Is’Kah walked over to the deck officer and handed her the work order. Is’Kah: I have a few repairs to complete tonight. OOD: ::Looking over the PADD:: Looks in order. Will we need hearing protection? Is’Kah: Ear plugs should be sufficient if you are more than a meter away from me, but that is only while I am cutting. I will alert you before I start. OOD: Very well. Thank you, Lieutenant. Taking the PADD back, Is’Kah approached the first position and started working. She hid holo-emitters around the bridge, captain’s ready room, conference room, and break room for the next few hours. Sitting at the bridge co-processer, she connected the new equipment before uploading a holo control program and a copy of the EMH for a dedicated backup. Satisfied with the work, a sly smile crossed her lips as she started to program the system flash a bright white light as if an omnipotent being snapped their fingers before overlaying the deck with mashed pea-colored 8-centimeter-long shag carpet while each console was wrapped in wood paneling, along with setting the chairs to be covered in a slightly lighter matching green tufted fabric. However, the most important part was the giant disco ball hanging above the captain’s chair. To help cover her tracks, she set the program to trigger only when the ship was at green alert and when Commander Sherlock had entered Deck 3 three to ten times. She also buried the program so that it wouldn’t be quickly discovered by other engineers and, more importantly, T’Ama. The hybrid felt better about operating in the expanse now that there was a way to keep the captain safe from the murder bots, even if she used it first as a prank on the Captain and XO. Closing up her toolbox, Is’Kah departed the bridge, ready to rest for two hours before her next shift. TAGS/TBC Lieutenant (JG) Is’Kah Xiron Engineering USS Chin’toka R240101I14 Character Pronouns: She/Her/Zha/Zhen

Look, @Leenaya Edrei is a good writer and @LCDR Aine O. Sherlock is about to fire her. Very rude. Not demure. (( Sickbay, Deck 10, USS Chin'toka )) Sherlock: It's about the mission. I ::beat:: think we should talk about it. Edrei: Oh, the mission? Of course. Has this anything to do about the triage protocol we put in place? She’d thought it was pretty good, even though being cut off from the transporters had made their task harder, and they always could get better. But even still, everything had worked as it was supposed to. Sherlock: Uh ::beat:: no. That was fine. This was to do with casualties. Or was it about the paperwork? Oh no, she was late on that task. Edrei: ::pointing to her PADD:: I’m still working on the report. The number of wounded we took care of is through the roof. Sherlock: I'm all too familiar with those kinds or reports. Sometimes they seem never ending. She stayed focused on the mission’s logistics, completely missing the weight behind Sherlock’s words. Edrei: I totally underestimated the amount of paperwork. But it’ll be done soon, I promise. Sherlock: That's ::beat:: good. But I'm here to talk about a specific casualty. Edrei: Of course. Who? Sherlock: In Doctor Kel's report, he mentioned the guy we found. And that he didn't make it… Oh no… How had she not seen this coming? Edrei: Um… yes? What about him? She tried to hide her nervousness as best she could. She didn’t need her First Officer to know just how badly she’d failed as a doctor. Sherlock: I'm trying to say ::beat:: I guess… She paused, stressing Lee out. Sherlock taking in a deep breath like that was clearly the sign that she had something important to tell her. Was she about to get discharged from Starfleet for letting a man die on her second mission? No, no, that was irrational, they wouldn’t do that. …But would they? Maybe they’d found that she could have done more, and- Sherlock: Let's go get some coffee. ::gesturing to the steaming mug:: A better cup of coffee. I'll probably be more articulate in a more comfortable setting. She nodded uneasily, biting her lip. She really couldn't say where this discussion was going (except leading toward her being fired), but she didn’t like it very much at the moment. Edrei: Um, sure. Lead the way, Commander. (( Brew Continuum, Deck 10, USS Chin’toka )) The walk to the Brew Continuum wasn’t long, but somehow it helped Lee relax—at least a little. If she really was getting discharged it surely wouldn’t happen there. She would have been called into Sherlock’s office instead, right? Still, the anxiety gnawed at her, especially when she noticed how quiet the lounge was. While she was relieved she wouldn’t be fired in front of the whole crew, she couldn’t help but dread the idea of it happening here, in this almost empty, too-intimate setting. They sat at an empty table before placing their orders. Lee considered getting another coffee, but given the amount she’d already drunk in the last few hours and her racing heart, she settled for some jasmin tea and hasperat instead. Edrei: My best friend at the Academy and I, we used to eat this weekly. Jasmin tea is my favourite, and she made one hell of a hasperat. She mentally cringed. Here she was, spilling her life story to her soon-to-be former First Officer, who likely had no interest in it and was probably just waiting for the right moment to inform her she’d be off the ship at the next stop. Being dismissed after only two missions, that was likely a new record. The absolute shame. Sherlock: Response She couldn’t stand the oppressive silence any longer, and she took a deep breath before asking the dreaded question. Edrei: I’m getting fired, aren’t I? I mean, it makes sense. He didn’t make it, and I’m the one responsible. Maybe I’m just not cut out to be here. But I really didn’t want to let everyone down, I promise, and- Sherlock: Response Interrupted in her ramble, she looked at Sherlock in shock, not believing what she just said. Edrei: Wait, I… I’m not? What do you mean I’m not fired? Sherlock: Response Tags/TBC

I could feel the level of vitriol that @TAma put into this MSNPC that was caught and is sitting in the Chin'toka's freshly repaired brig.

Melissa did a fantastic job bringing this MSNPC to life!!! (( The Brig, Deck 11, USS Chin’toka )) Hwi, kre, sei. Haeiul. Mne, rhi, fve. Haeiul. Lli, the, lhi. Haeiul. Dha, dha’hwi, dha’kre. Haeiul. 1 Twelve steps brought her around the perimeter of her cell and back to the beginning. She had scoured every inch of the gleaming space for some sort of weakness, and her elation at having found a loose panel had been immediately dashed when it turned out to just be a toilet. She had even tried to crawl behind the toilet - a highly embarrassing maneuver that had no doubt amused the Starfleet security guards immensely. Conjuring the delightful sound of the gurgling they would make when she slit their throats brought a smile to her face. Her pacing stilled as she walked into the brig. The captain. Serala. She studied the painfully generic beauty of the woman’s face, the milquetoast ridges barely visible on her brow. It was one and the same with the picture she’d seen in the file on the region - that was her alright. She stared daggers at Serala. If looks could kill Serala would a pincushion of daggers. She really wished that insipid little Vulcan who hadn’t fallen for her attempts to cast suspicion on the station commander hadn’t stolen hers. She would sink it so far into… Serala: Lieutenant McGillian. Where were you planning to begin? McGillian: I’d like to start with the one that tried to kill me. Of course the stupid Rodulan who had no right to still be alive would interrogate her. She internally rolled her eyes since her physical ones were too busy trying to bore a hole through Serala’s head. Serala: Excellent. I will let you take the lead. I just wanted to be present for this. McGillian: I’ll get what I can out of them. He wouldn’t be getting hnaev 2 out of her. Not willingly anyway. She tore her gaze away from Serala with a look of disgust and went to lean against the wall of her cell, arms crossed. Eventually the black-eyed man approached. McGillian: :: To Sheri :: I’d offer you something to drink, but I’m not exactly sure you wouldn’t try to kill me or one of my crew with the cup. Her eyes flicked to the voids that were his so-called eyes, and she pushed herself off the wall with a sensuous upward roll of her torso. A smile spread slowly across her face, both predatory and seductive. She got very close to the force field and cocked her head. Sheri: ::sultry:: They make good blunt force weapons… or a shiv, depending on what it’s made from… or I could shove it down your throat… ::giggles lowly and grins:: How are those ribs, baby boy? McGillian: Better, now that they're out of your reach. Would you care to make this easy on everyone and just tell us why you infiltrated Deep Space Twenty Six? She tutted and waggled a finger at him, making a chiding noise. Sheri: Now why would I do a thing like that? McGillian: You tell me. She laughed that low, husky giggle again. Her head fell to the side, looking up at him from beneath her lashes and grinned. Sheri: You’re going to have to try better than that, baby boy. McGillian: You know honesty is the best policy. I know that’s hard for you to believe. ::gestures to Serala:: The Captain has had no qualms in putting down her deceptive nature. The smile faltered from her face when she glanced where he gestured at Serala, replaced by one of narrow-eyed calculation. She licked her lips and then turned away, leaning in even closer to speak in hushed tones. Sheri: ::speaking softly:: Your captain is a filthy. Half blood. Race traitor. ::with disgust:: She has no mnhei'sahe 3, so of course she has no qualms. Serala: Response? Sheri: ::yelling:: You heard me! And what are you going to do about it? You can’t hurt me. Your precious Federation won’t allow it! Serala/McGillian: response -- 1: "One, two, three Turn. "Four, five, six. Turn. "Seven, eight, nine. Turn. "Ten, eleven, twelve. Turn." 2: sh*t 3: Romulan honor -- “Sheri” if that is her real name A spy who definitely does not work for any organization directly as simmed by… -- Lieutenant T'Ama Chief of Operations USS Chin'toka C240004T11

I've been so impressed with @Leenaya Edrei's writing and her first patient loss is no exception so I wanted to share this excellent medical sim from our newest doctor! (Also we found this guy in the rubble, so I'm sad he didn't make it.)

I love the interaction @TAma had with her future inlaws as written by @Quentin Beck It explains so much about the good doctor.

The descriptions @Xiron added to the bar really brought this place to life. The two Frenegi honoring the 1929 Stock Market Crash is comedic gold.

The perspective written here by @Serala brought back memories of my reaction to being told that I had a Dad now at about the same age.

Okay, so it's not a rumor anymore..... 😂

I really liked the raw emotion @IsKah put into this post, along with the scene in general: ((Crew Quarters, Primary Hull, USS Chin’toka)) She quickly headed to the officer's quarters. She pressed the door chime, entering when permission was given. Is’Kah: ::speaking warmly:: Hello, Lieutenant. I am unsure if you remember me, but I am Ensign Is’Kah Xiron. She bowed her head slightly to the other officer Stapledon: I do, yes. Please, come in. The hybrid gave Stapledon a warm smile, trying to put her at ease. Is’Kah: I'd like to know how you are faring after the events of the past few days. After a trauma like this, one should not spend too much time alone with one's thoughts. Stapledon: No, one shouldn't... ::Sighing:: I'm feeling terrible, if you want an honest answer. It's hard walking through the ship and seeing the looks on the faces of people... It's like I committed a bunch of murders in public, everyone knows I did it but they just give me looks, or don't talk to me... And I remember it and I can't do anything about it... ::Swallowing:: Is’Kah: It wasn’t your fault that you did any of those things. It’s just like ::her voice quivered:: I’m not at f-fault for my crew dying. No matter how often you tell yourself that you should have been stronger, faster, or better, you could do nothing. Stapledon: What happened? Is’Kah: I was on another Akira, the Ronin. Just before Frontier Day, a Brikar named Wrath attacked us, and let's say I’d rather be assimilated than suffer under his care. She knew that she’d upset the other woman, but it was important for her to know she wasn’t alone in her suffering. She was sure that Stapledon thought that there was nothing to compare but Stapledon: Would you like to talk about it? oO No, I wouldn’t like to talk about it, but I will. If my trauma can help save lives, then so be it. Oo Is’Kah: The Ronin responded to a distress call, but by the time we arrived, the attackers had stripped the freighter of anything they wanted and disappeared. We found a child to be the only survivor. We tracked them down to a nearby solar system; however, we changed course to a solar system in the asymptotic giant branch phase due to another distress call. They were under attack. Stapledon: And then what happened? Is’Kah: The Consortium set off a solar flare as a weapon against us. I told Commander Raga that our metaphasic shields would protect us, but they didn’t. My failure would end up cost fi-fifty-se-seven lives. :: A tear slid down her cheek.:: Our defenses were nearly useless against it as it completely disabled the ship. We were only on emergency systems; even the bridge’s EPS Generators were offline. We rammed the other ship, and in all the confusion, spider bots and several Robotic Life Forms or RoLF invaded the ship. While defending the ship, I was us- ::her voice broke:: useless defending the ship and let Crewman Baker g-get r-ripped ap-apart because I can’t target a thing. We lost so many because of my recommendation. She ran her hands over her face, exhaling slowly. Stapledon: I'm sorry. That sounds horrible. Is’Kah: I pray that this ship will never experience it. Stapledon: Have you been... You know... dreaming about it? The hybrid held up her hands, still in the flexible casts. Is’Kah: I get to wear these for another few weeks because of my dreams. I attacked the bulkhead in my quarters while thinking I was defending the ship. It felt so real in the moment, but it was just a hallucination from being awake from stims for six days straight. I nearly killed myself from blood loss from shattering my hands and forearms, and shrapnel after I repeatedly smashed my room's table into the wall. Stapledon: Response Is’Kah: I see the moment every time I close my eyes. I see his bl-blood pooling around him. I hear his screams echoing in my ears. Sometimes h-he grabs my unform with a bloody hand, demanding to know why I failed him and the crew. Other times, he’s replaced with a lost en-engineer ::anger on her face and in voice:: that was murdered by that things machines. If I ever see his rocky face, I will pry the stone from him piece by piece ::hissed through closed teeth:: so he suffers like he made Clara. Her body quivered from her barely restrained fury. Stapledon: Response Is’Kah: I know it is unbecoming to harbor hate for any living creature, but Wrath deserves it. We are nothing but ::hisses:: prey to him. He’s that child that pulls the wings off flies, harms animals, or other cruel things. He is a psychopath who gives psychopaths a bad name. As slippery as a cockroach, he managed to get away from us. Unfortunately, he got away from an antimatter explosion at the end. Stapledon: Response TAGS/TBC -- Ensign Is’Kah Xiron Engineering USS Chin’toka R240101I14

This is a great sim by @kimstapledon It made me feel Kim's pain

I always love a good wrap-up solo sim:

And yet another great President Chekov sim by @TAma:

Another great sim for President Chekov by @TAma:

I have been so impressed with the sims from @TAma representing President Antov Chekov during the Frontier Day Blockbuster and wanted to share them with the entire fleet. I don't know about anyone else, but I can literally hear Walter Koenig's voice as I read these. This is the first of several that I am going to post to showcase the great writing Melissa has done.

Doucet's bedside manner at the end, chef's kiss. Lean into it, jab'em.

@TAma This whole thing. Just

(( Bridge, Deck 3 - Primary Hull, USS Chin’toka )) Three of Twelve (T’Ama): Computer, download and install Fleet Formation software upgrade. Authorization override: T’Ama six-four-three-five. oO Who is T’Ama? Is that me? Oo oO WE ARE THE BORG. YOUR DISTINCTIVENESS HAS BEEN ADDED TO OUR COLLECTIVE. Oo A large progress bar appeared on the main view screen showing the download progress at 1%. Sherlock: ::to McGillian:: We need to move! Now! Serala: Computer. This is Commander Serala, Commanding Officer. Disregard order to download and initiate emergency bridge lockout procedures. Authorization Serala Sierra errr lli hwi kre ehrie. Execute. A flicker of anger ignited in Three of Twelve. That was rude. She had just started that download and already it was thwarted. They were resisting. oO RESISTANCE IS FUTILE. TAKE THE BRIDGE. Oo Chaos reigned on the bridge between the assimilated and unassimilated. Serala: Sherlock, get in. Now! Sherlock: On my way! McGillian: SEAL THE DOOR!!!! The captain and other officers had retreated to the ready room. They were still resisting, but Three of Twelve knew resistance was futile. She would take the bridge from them now they had given it up. The first problem, of course, was that all the consoles had gone dark. That would have to be fixed. Three of Twelve (T’Ama): Computer, end emergency bridge lockout. Authorization T’Ama Epsilon seven-zero-one-four. The bridge resolutely did not respond. Anger flickered inside her again. They were resisting. oO RESISTANCE IS FUTILE. Oo Three of Twelve turned away to reassess how the bridge might be retaken when the word filled with blue… ((Brig, Deck 11 - USS Chin’toka)) Three of Twelve and the rest of her unit rematerialized in a brig cell, along with the unassimilated. Turnbull: =/\= Petty Officer Turnbull here, someone just beamed Borg into the brig. =/\= McGillian: =/\= Turnbull, that was us from the bridge, have you managed to secure the area? =/\= Turnbull: =/\= Were all safe here, security is locked down. =/\= McGillian: =/\= Good job Turnbull, keep them detained. If they somehow manage to get out, your orders are to retreat, seal security, and contact me immediately. McGillian out. =/\= The brawl had shifted and continued as the Borg had reacquired new targets. Neshala: Somebody help me!!! The Borg drones set upon her, delivering blows with sickening thuds. Turnbull: Hold on! I’ll beam you out! A few more agonizing seconds while the security officer tried to lock on to Neshala’s signal before she was whisked, bloody and bruised, out of the fight to in front of the cells. Turnbull: Are you okay?! Neshala: response Three of Twelve watched this unfold, on the surface dispassionately, but underneath roiling with anger. oO The bridge has fallen. Oo oO ELIMINATE THE UNASSIMILATED. Oo oO Or perhaps we should escape the brig? Oo She challenged the thousands of unified voices speaking in her brain. She was better than being wasted punching the unassimilated to death. The Collective was quiet for a moment before a new directive was handed down to her. oO ESCAPE THE BRIG. Oo She dialed the setting of the type 2 phaser they had so foolishly beamed her into the cell with all the way up past level 8, which would vaporize a person, to the levels that would destroy walls. She aimed it at the edge of the door frame, where the force field emitters were and fired. The wall between the two brig cells and their associated doorways both exploded and vaporized leaving a gaping, steaming hole and ruining two of the brig cells. The force fields fell, and so did Turnbull. In the smoky, fiery aftermath he lay, terribly burned, on top of Neshala. Neshala: response Three of Twelve allowed herself a self-satisfied smirk before stepping over the smoking debris and leading her unit out of the brig and towards the adjacent armory. They were about to become a whole lot deadlier. -- Lieutenant JG T'Ama Acting Chief of Operations USS Chin'toka C240004T11

This sim by Daniel "Mac" McGillian's writer offers something different in the stream of borg assimilations happening through the fleet. No spoilers, just read to the end... error... Message Recieved... Error (( Bridge, Deck 3 - Primary Hull, USS Chin’toka )) Standing behind the tactical station on the Chin'toka was both an exhilarating and stressful moment for Mac. He was currently the highest ranking tactical and security officer on the ship. While he firmly believed in what they were doing, on some level he felt like he was a fish out of water. He barely had any combat experience, and fewer still his experience behind the tactical station on the bridge amounted to the small amount of time he had been standing at this very station. No pressure or anything. Serala: So, you mean we don’t have a full store of supplies, correct? Perkins: That’s right, Serala. But this ship wasn’t meant to launch yet. We aren’t expecting those supplies until Thursday. The Captain blew out a frustrated breath and gritted her teeth as Sherlock dropped her head to the side at Perkins response. Serala: Fine. We’re not planning an extended launch anyway. If that’s all there is, we will be fine. T’Ama: There’s also no tractor beam, captain. The Captain grimaced again and turned to her Operations officer. The XO's lips tucked, eyebrows raised, and then she looked down at her PADD. Serala: No tractor beam? T’Ama: It’s low priority on the load order. Neshala: Captain, we’re getting a transmission. The parade is starting. Admiral Shelby is broadcasting to all the ships. Captain Serala nodded at the Orion woman. Serala: Very good. Place it on viewer. Mac looked up at the viewscreen. Shelby: =/\= A quarter millennium after the NX-01 took that first vital step, we gather on Frontier Day to take another; as we demonstrate our newest advancement, “Fleet Formation”. =/\= Serala spun and looked at T’Ama. Serala: Please tell me we were able to keep that from being installed. T’Ama: I removed it from the update scripts before we booted the computer. The Captain breathed a sigh of relief then turned back to Perkins as he began trying to defend himself. Perkins: It wasn’t supposed to be installed until Thursday, Serala. I swear, you act like we knew you would be launching this ship today. Was there anything this guy could say that wasn't going to annoy his CO and XO? Mac was beginning to have serious doubts that it was possible. Shelby: =/\= Our next demonstration is the summation of decades of technological advancements. =/\= Serala turned to her First Officer, determination clear on her face. Serala: It’s time, Number One. Prepare the ship for immediate launch. oO And here we go... Oo Sherlock: Aye, Captain. ::standing and addressing the bridge officers:: All stations, ready for departure. Serala: Lieutenant T’Ama, open a shipwide channel. T'Ama tapped at her console. T’Ama: Channel open, Captain. Serala: =/\= All hands, this is the Captain. Prepare for immediate launch. Engineering, I need those engines online now. All stations, Red Alert. =/\= The lights on the bridge dimmed and red lights illuminated even as alert klaxons began to sound throughout the ship. Xiron / Is’Kah: =/\= Responses =/\= The sound of the klaxons brought back childhood memories when the ship his parents served on would be in a dangerous situation. None of those memories involved himself being on the bridge. This was one of many firsts Mac expected he'd be experiencing in a very, very, short span of time. Serala: =/\= We don’t have four hours, Lieutenant. Give me impulse power. We shouldn’t be going to warp anytime soon, anyway. Once we’ve launched you can continue working on getting the warp engines online. I’m sending Commander Ilsam down to assist. =/\= She nodded at Ilsam to go ahead and head down to assist. Islam: Response, if any. Xiron / Is’Kah: =/\= Responses =/\= Serala: =/\= Counselor Brodie to the Bridge. Commander Kel and Lieutenant Doucet, prepare sickbay for potential casualties. =/\= Kel: =/\= Kel to Bridge. Understood Captain. =/\= Brodie / Doucet: =/\= Responses =/\= As the Engineering team brought the engines up to full power, the hum throughout the ship intensified. Mac felt goosebumps run down his spine. He wasn't sure what he was more excited about, the familiar feeling of being on a ship, or the fact they were stealing it in order to protect the Federation from one of the gravest threats that may have ever presented itself. On second thought he was sure, it was the latter. Moving to her seat in the command center, Serala turned to face the viewscreen briefly before slowly sitting in the chair for the first time ever. She paused for a moment. Mac noted the importance of this moment, and a smile escaped. As quickly as it had begun, it was over as the Captain began to issue orders, starting with Mac. Serala: Mister McGillian, bring weapon systems online. Arm torpedoes and standby. McGillian: Already? She turned to face him. Mac felt his eyes widen for a moment. Serala: I am aware this is supposed to be a celebration, Ensign. But trust me, it’s about to go very badly. We don’t know what the Borg and Changelings have planned, but it has something to do with this celebration and I want to be prepared. McGillian: Uh, yes Sir. We... ::pause:: don't have any torpedoes. The Captain turned to Perkins, her irritation showed, perhaps it was escalating beyond mere irritation at this point. Mac was just glad it wasn't directed at him. Serala: Let me guess. Thursday. Perkins tried to say something, but quickly closed his mouth and shrugged apologetically. The Captain turned back and looked at Mac. She had his full attention. Serala: Very well, we’ll have to make do with phasers. But let’s see if we can’t beam at least one load of torpedoes off the shipyards before we get too far. We can load them in the bay as we go. With a nod, Mac quickly punched in the necessary actions to bring their phasers online and ready. McGillian: Phaser's at the ready Captain, I'm sending a message down to the transporter room to get us some proton torpedoes. With the clock ticking before they left dock, Mac quickly scrambled a message to the transporter room closest to the torpedo bays. He made sure to indicate that it was a direct order from the Captain, and was priority one. Sherlock: ::turning to face Serala:: Captain, all stations reporting ready. Mac looked up from his sent message to see the Captain give the XO an approving nod, then she sat forward. Serala: Then let’s get out of here. Lieutenant Neshala, clear all moorings and take us out, one-quarter thrusters until clear of the drydock, then ahead full. We don’t have warp yet, but we’re not going to need it anyway. Neshala: Aye, Captain. :: tapping some buttons to disconnect the umbilicals from the shipyard :: Clearing moorings. Ahead one-quarter thrusters. Mac grinned as he watched the ship begin to inch forward. A message popped up on his station as the Captain ordered the ship to set a course for the parade. Mac smirked as he read the message from the transporter room. They had torpedoes. The grin faded as he suddenly felt fire in his veins, and in his head. Mac stumbled back from his station. oO We..... Borg......We...are..the.... NO! What in the hell! Oo One hand on the side of his forehead, Mac looked up in horror. He felt his other hand moving towards the phaser at his side. Several of his crewmates had stopped moving, and the black lines on their faces... and their eyes suddenly looked like his own. Borgified Crewmen, including T'Ama (in unison): We are the Borg. oO What in the hell? Oo Serala: Security alert! Computer, secure the bridge. Serala pulled out the hidden phaser in her armrest and immediately rose to her feet. Lt. Cmdr. Sherlock immediately tossed her PADD towards the nearest wall and made a dash for her chair, presumably to retrieve the phaser from its compartment. The Captain had now opened fire. Sherlock: Protect the Captain! The fire in Mac's veins and head was still there as he felt himself draw his phaser, but it wasn't really himself drawing it... Was it? McGillian: I'm on it! Any: Responses Seeing the XO draw her phaser, she then turned to look at T'Ama. Mac moved towards the Captain. The pain was dizzying, and he nearly tripped as he moved past his station. T'Ama (in Unison): Eliminate the unassimilated. She stood, raised her phaser, and pointed at the captain. Sherlock: Lieutenant! Stand down! The XO fired a shot into their Operations Officer, who in turn fired into CO. oO Elim.. unassim..... error.... Oo Sherlock leveled the phaser again but she'd become target focused and hadn't noticed a crewman come from behind and suddenly dropping his arm atop hers, knocking the phaser out of her hand. She turned to face the new threat, stepping back just enough to give her room to think for a split second. Mac watched in horror as his arm raised, pointing at the Captain. McGillian: NO! Using his other arm, he redirected his arm so that the shot that came from his phaser went directly into another Borg infected crew member. One who had been coming directly at the Captain to her right. The Borg hit the ground, and stopped moving. Serala: response Sherlock lunged at the crewman, keeping her shoulder low, she shoved into his abdomen, pushing him towards the wall. For the moment he was pinned, but his strength felt immense and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold him long. Sherlock: Mac! Get the Captain to the ready room! Sherlock was pressing her shoulder into the crewman as hard as she could, digging her feet into the deckplate. The pain in his veins began to subside as Mac wrestled his phaser out of his right hand, and into his left. Any: Responses McGillian: Captain, with me! Moving up next to her, Mac realized his phaser wasn't on stun. He flipped the setting as he moved, keeping himself between the Captain and anyone who would try to take a shot at her. Serala: Response Mac fired a few shots into another Borg that had just stepped onto the bridge. His right arm loosened, and he felt like he was once again in full control of his limbs. The ready room door opened as Mac approached it, and to his surprise he was immediately grabbed, and slammed into the wall by a Borg, sending his phaser bouncing into the ready room. McGillian: ::pained and surprised:: Ahhh! Mac put all of his strength into pushing the assailant off of him to give the Captain a clear shot. Serala: Response McGillian: Thank you Sir. Let's move! Any: Responses

@TAma's assimilation was very fun to read (as has everyone's been so far, of course). It's a very quick transition, almost a blink-and-you'll-miss-it, but I think it works very well, especially considering the backstory she has with her step-father and Vulcan family. And what a bold move to make (as a drone), shooting her new captain almost as soon as she was aboard! PS: leaving the OOC note, as it cracked me up.

@Valin Dermont Yet more sarcastic wit from our loveable Dermy. I just can't get enough of this. (( Main Engineering, Deck 14, USS Chin’toka )) Dermont: We 'ave a couple of days ta get things fixed. Tractor modifications are gonna take time anyways. We'll likely only get one more run at this thing... Peters: We have to stabilize the antimatter containment fields first… That was the whole point. Get out of dodge. Slow down and fix things. Then come back at it once the everything was fixed and the modifications complete. They could move much faster than the star, after all. oO Well, as far as we know, eh? Oo Ral: If we have to dump the containment vessel or the warp core we won’t have the power to do anything. Dermont glanced around the bay at the others, frowning. Dermont: More reason ta stop movin' fer now. Regroup and get repairs done. He put a hand on the console in front of him as another smaller shockwave rocked the ship. Just being near the thing was dangerous. The older engineer could name six different ways they could be destroyed simply by being in proximity of the star, without actually trying any of their (highly unlikely to work) plans. Peters: Uh-oh. :: turning to the trio of engineers closest to him. :: Valin, damage control. Wyatt, keep working on the containment fields. Jamie, make sure the SIF (Structural Integrity Field) doesn’t collapse. Any questions? Dermont: Understood, sah! Ral: Yes Chief. Dermont glanced over and saw Ral's hands flying over the console. LIkely he was trying to either re-route power or layer multiple containment fields over one another in an attempt to keep the fields in place. But both of those plans relied upon emitters. If the emitters to the containment field were damaged... oO Which is why there is redundancy 'ardware installed. Unlikely everything would be busted...right? Oo He couldn't let himself be wrapped up with what other engineers were already assigned to do. His job now was damage control. He knew full well Dark...eh, Kiax...would already have organized damage by highest priority and shifted crews there. However, he was ultimately in charge of those teams. So he headed to a side locker and grabbed a blank PADD and headed over to the situational display in the center of the engineering bay entrance. Not too long ago, that very console blew up and was obviously trying to kill him. Having failed that, Dermont didn't think it would try a second time any time soon. Peters: What happened? As Dermont approached he couldn't help but see the Bynar ensigns lying on the floor, already surrounded by a medical team and the Chief. He wanted to dart over, but one more person would just be in the way. He took a deep breath and set the PADD on the console and uploaded all of the current damage control status updates onto it. Linking it to the sit display, he would be able to hopefully work and help direct at the same time. He pushed the conversation happening just a couple of meters away to the back of his mind and tapped his commbadge. Dermont: =/\= Dermont ta McGregor. =/\= Dermont grabbed a toolkit from the locker just inside the bay. McGregor: =/\= ::A slight grunting sound.:: Aye...go ahead, sah. =/\= Dermont: =/\= Ya sound busy already, and not ta add ta yer plate, but yer DCT needs ta manually inspect plasma conduits fer the next thirty-six meters from yer location. Ya got a kink in the 'ose, lads, but I can't see where. 'ave fun. =/\= He tossed the PADD and his thermos inside the kit and pulled its straps over his shoulder. McGregor: =/\= Aye sir. Finkley wanted ta crawl some more, tubes today, dincha Finkley? =/\= The communication ended as Dermont headed for the access lift to take him up to deck thirteen and the battery compartments. There were issues Ral: Chief! ::grabbing Peters attention back:: The field is down to twenty seven percent. Another hit could take us below fifteen percent and a breach. The auxilliary fusion generators are online but the damage to the plasma network is making it difficult getting the power to the right places. The only way I can do this is to divert power from life support and bring additional field generators online. It’ll require your authorisation. oO What? No no no lad. We're not in an life threatenin' situation...yet. Slow it down, just a tad, eh?... Oo Peters: I’m not prepared to authorize taking life support offline, Wyatt. I can authorize some power from non-essential systems, but we’re not going to mess with life support unless we have to. Ral I understand Chief. I’ve already diverted as much as I can from non-essential systems. I’ll see what I can do from here but it may need a manual patch to feed more power to the field generators. Their voices faded a bit as Dermont stepped onto the catwalk wrapping the core on the deck above. He saw Crewman Novek monitoring a console and glancing up at the core, then down and back up at the console again. The movements were not inherently hectic or worrisome and there was no panic on the Vulcan's face, but something about it made a knot form in Dermont's stomach. Novek was nervous and that made Dermont nervous. Pushing that back down he made his way towards the station that monitored their battery compartment. It looked like about sixteen percent of them were suddenly offline. He wanted to see if there was an immediate, obvious problem. He ran a diagnostics and found that for one the new was good. A backfeed caused the monitoring stations to believe the batteries were drained and dead. Inaccurate readings causing the system to automatically shut down connectivity to said batteries and reroute the systems they used elsewhere. Which of course causes a slight drain to everything else. He shook his head and began the rather simple process of initializing the connections to the batteries. After a few moments he convinced the station that all of the batteries were working fine (which they actually seemed to be), and he headed back down to see how the "trying not to blow up" emergency was going. Peters: =/\= Engineering to bridge. How close are we to the neutron star? We need to back off a bit more before something else hits us. =/\= Isa: =/\= We’ve already backed off some, Commander. Do you think we’re still in danger? We need to be as close as possible to get the kind of readings we need. Not to mention our efforts to make contact with the life in the star. =/\= Peters: =/\= Affirmative, sir. If we start now, we’ll be able to get the tractor beam modifications done in a day or two. The damage to the plasma network will require some clever rerouting of power to enhance the tractor beam, if that's the plan we're going with.. =/\= Isa: =/\= Very well, Commander. Do what you need to do to make it work. The tractor beam is a high priority item. =/\= Dermont listened to the exchange tight-lipped. In other words, they were not going to stop the ship so they could complete repairs on the systems they needed to access while they were at a full stop and the core powered down. On top of that, they needed to fix those repairs and begin modifications to the tractor beam. While flying. Near the neutron star. oO Oh, but we've backed off. There's no danger ta be 'ad...safe as babes in baskets... Oo Peters: =/\= Copy, commander. Peters out. =/\= ::The chief turned to Dermont as he came down the lift. :: You heard the lady. I’ll watch the structural integrity field. Take Ral and go work on the tractor beam. There was an expression in the other man's face, but he couldn't tell what it was exactly. He simply nodded. Dermont: Yessir. Glancing around he didn't notice Ral anywhere. Not surprising. As he headed out of the bay towards the tractor room, he tapped his communicator. Dermont: =/\= Dermont ta Lieutenant Ral, meet me in Tractor Control. DCTs will 'ave ta worry about keepin' us together. We've got plans. =/\= Dermont slid into the turbo lift and frowned as the other man didn't respond. Dermont: Deck Sixteen. =/\= Dermont ta Ral. Respond please. =/\= As the moments ticked by and the turbolift opened, he began to worry. The young lieutenant was practically leaping at the opportunity to be involved in every single project happening on board. He'd likely try to repair a conduit with one hand while holding a PADD with the tractor modifications with the other. A few moments later he found himself nodding to the technician behind the monitoring station for the tractor beam controls. He Dermont: Wait until ya get a load of this. ::The engineer access the files regarding the modifications they were going to be working on.:: Tech: Sir...that's something else. But we have an integrity issue around the main tractor emitter. There's a field in place around it. I reported it a few moments ago. We can't use it...not how it is. Dermont: Ya love givin' bad news is that it? Bah. We'll get it sorted. He tapped his commbadge. Dermont: =/\= Dermont ta Commander Peters. 'Ave you seen Lieutenant Ral, sir? =/\= Peters: =/\= Ral is non-responsive. You two get started on the tractor beam modifications. I will catch up as soon as I can. Any questions? =/\= oO What in the bloody 'ell does that mean? Oo Dermont gripped tight the edge of the console and fought with every fiber of his being to not just have the computer give him Ral's location and rush immediately there. He knew there were lots more people on board the vessel and everyone had a task to do. Ral's care was not his responsibility. At least not at the moment. He would need to trust others to do their jobs. While he did his. MacNemar: =/\= Response =/\= Dermont: =/\= We've got a teeny integrity problem 'ere. I take it we'll not be stoppin' fer a proper repair job? =/\= Peters: =/\= Use whatever you have to for sealant, then get started. Soon as you can, folks. =/\= Dermont: =/\= Of course, sah. We're on it. Well, MacNemar, the list o' modifications star 'ere in the tractor room and include everythin' between 'ere and the phaser emitters. Shall I send ya the list, we each take a team and split the difference? =/\= MacNemar: =/\= Response =/\= oO Marvelous. Begin phase one o' plan Long Shot... Oo

((ooc: 101 and 000 are unconscious but I wanted to contribute something, so I wrote some internal flavor text!)) ((Sickbay Complex, Deck 10)) One hour. Sixty minutes. Three thousand and six hundred seconds. No matter how you sliced it, that was a long, long time for a pair of Bynars to be unable to connect to their mother computer on Bynaus. Machine or not, that computer was the giver of life of their people. It was the deep well from which they drew everything they had, from their language to the firing of neurons in their brains. The fact that Bynars could connect to it from across the galaxy was a miracle of engineering, truly— but it was technology born of necessity. No human could go without oxygen to breathe or food to eat, and no Bynar could go without the implant gifted to them at birth despite the double-edged blade. The incredible integration of their bodies and minds with technology was a marvel, a blessing, but it was also a curse that instilled them with a terrible weakness. As powerful as machines were, they were easy to overload. Too much energy would fry them. Environmental changes, magnetic waves, electrical surges— they were all terrible hazards. 101 and 000 had learned about their people’s encounter with the Enterprise as children studying Bynar history in school. A star had threatened to blow out the master computer on their planet, which meant they had to shut the entire thing down before the shockwave hit and turn it back on afterwards. A group of four Bynars had scrambled to back up as much data as possible onto the Enterprise’s computer. It was a security blanket, a failsafe, some last-ditch effort to preserve the knowledge of their race in case the computer never turned back on. For a while, while the computer was off and they waited for the shockwave to pass, every single member of their race had been close to death. They simply couldn’t survive without it. Neither 101 nor 000 knew how long it would take to die. They didn’t know how long their predecessors had had to cling to life while their brains shut down without the support needed. Perhaps they hadn’t voiced the urgency of such an emergency clearly enough to the crew. Did they have themselves to blame? 000 might think so— they blamed themself for most of the misfortunes of their life— but 101 was more likely to think that it wasn’t anybody’s fault. Sometimes things just happened. An hour was a long time to wait to die. It was a blessing, really, that they lacked the strength to reliably cling to consciousness— 101 went out like a light and stayed that way. 000, however, fought and struggled and clawed their way back up. They woke a few times, eyes fluttering open but unable to focus on anything. They'd get a good, full breath and feel a quickening of their pulse, and then slip away again. There was a strength there, a refusal to stay down that 000 rarely expressed. Even so, they weren’t doing well. Neither Bynar was doing well at all— despite a clean bill of physical health, it was as if their bodies were losing the will to go on. It was a terribly lonely way to go, floating through a disoriented haze instead of being awake and alert together. When they pulled through, they’d be alarmed to hear they’d survived for over an hour. For the time being, though, all they could do was wait to wake up. The clock ticked on. ————————— Ensigns One Zero One (101) and Zero Zero Zero (000) HCO Officers USS Chin'toka NCC-97187 C239907OZ1

Okay, I put this in the Chin'toka's quote forum, but as I kept reading this thing just kept getting funnier and funnier. Well done @Noa T'Nessa Levinson ((Corridor, Deck 10, USS Chin’toka)) Levinson: Out of the way! Move! Noa was doing her best not to outright shout as she was running in the corridors. She didn’t really have time to think of a plan on how to contain what she was chasing, with how quickly it moved. She was just monitoring an experiment of part of the science department’s latest attempts at creating a rubber-like material, ensuring it was much more elastic and durable than rubber. It definitely had its uses - such as absorbing shocks in lieu of inertial dampeners, but still being in the testing phase, the sample was held inside a level 9 forcefield and spherical in shape for easier measurements. What couldn’t be anticipated, however, was that Crewman Pics’s instruction to display the data on a nearby monitor would be interpreted by the computer as "disable the forcefield around the obviously active experiment". Long story short, what was quite possibly the bounciest bouncy ball in Federation history was now bouncing amok around deck 10. After notifying relevant personnel and realizing the ball was moving way too quickly for the transporter rooms to possibly get a lock on it, Noa started bolting after the ball as a few other members of her staff split off to see if they could corner it… or something. Soon enough, she managed to start closing the gap towards the bouncy ball, before noticing it was headed in what looked to her as right for Captain Delano’s head. Levinson: ::With the slightest hint of panic in her voice:: Captain, move aside! Now! Fortunately, the ball just barely missed him and kept bouncing uninterrupted along the corridor. Mei’konda: Response She took that opportunity to stop running and catch her breath. That was… genuinely tiring. She wasn’t used to this amount of exercise. Especially not in her uniform. Levinson: ::Visibly exhausted:: Are you alright, sir? Mei’konda: Response Noa eventually managed to catch her breath and speak more than a few words per breath, and spoke. Levinson: A really bouncy bouncy ball. A computer malfunction disabled its containing forcefield mid-experiment. Mei’konda: Response Levinson: I am aware it may be much, but can I ask for your help in… containing it, please? Mei’konda: Response -- Lieutenant Noa T'Nessa Levinson Chief Science Officer USS Chin'toka E239701NL0