Daniel McGillian Jr

Facts

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 lost it on the toolbox contents. (( Security Complex, Deck 11, U.S.S. Chin’toka )) Is’Kah entered the security complex, a PADD in one hand and a toolbox in the other. The office was rather busy for being in Spacedock, but that was one thing that always surprised her. One would think they really didn’t have much of a job, but as the crew proved on Frontier Day, it was better to have a full complement on duty, or else the ship would be swiped again. The Trican found the layout familiar, heading right for the office of the Chief of Security. She found it in the same location that Lieutenant Commander Carpenter had hers on the Ronin. The refit's similarities to the original were striking, but she continued to be thrown off when she discovered the differences. She pressed the chime to McGillian’s office. McGillian: Response Entering, Is’Kah wore her Vulcan mask and greeted Mac with a slight nod. Is’Kah: Good Day, Ensign McGillian. I wish to discuss a few things with you that will be pertinent to both of our futures. First, we will discuss the tools in this box. The ship's rumor mill suggests that you needed something like this. McGillian: Response After handing over the PADD she brought, Is’Kah placed the red metal box on Mac’s desk before opening it. Inside were a half-dozen wooden stakes. Is’Kah: Special delivery for one Van Helsing: In case Count Vulcula reappears, you’ll have proper weapons available. I hand-carved these just for you. McGillian: Response Is’Kah: A couple of other things that PADD had the report made by Doctor Beck on the Ronin regarding my preexisting conditions when I joined Starfleet, which includes my mechanical teeth. It also contains the report on the damage done by Borg T’Ama when she slapped me into next week, resulting in multiple ways the mechanisms were disabled. This should leave you with no more lingering security concerns regarding me, at least regarding this matter. McGillian: Response Is’Kah: I am a security risk to any away team due to my lack of knowledge of self-defense. On the Ronin, I attempted to teach myself hand-to-hand combat and with weapons. Commander Carpenter found me one night and forbade me from going to the Holodeck alone after that. She was going to teach me how to fight without dislocating body parts again and to prevent myself from getting killed or causing the death of others. Would it be possible to continue my training with you? McGillian: Response Is’Kah: I have nothing more than the standard cadet training. ::tilts head:: that is not exactly true. I have access to Andorian Imperial Guard training, but it’s locked away somewhere in my Katra. I am not sure how to make use of it at this time. McGillian: Response TAGS/TBC - - Ensign Is’Kah Xiron Engineering USS Chin’toka R240101I14 Pronouns: She/Her (Player and Character)

As someone who dearly loves the movie Hook, I appreciate this reference, and from what I know of Beck, this seems right on the money. Well done Sir. ((Sickbay Complex, Deck 10, USS Ronin)) Although the monitors in Sickbay were capable of displaying external views similar to the viewscreen on the Bridge, Quentin had opted to keep up the normal displays if only because he wasn't particularly keen on the idea of acting as bait. Sure, to some people it might have seemed appealing to jam a hook through their soft tissues and wiggle themselves onto it so they could properly catch a fish, but he liked his soft tissues and wasn't particularly a fan of impaling himself just to get someone else's attention. Of course, he was not the Ronin's Commanding Officer, and although he thought the whole damn plan was a bad idea, he kept his reservations to himself; there was a lot on the line here, between what little he knew was happening back at Earth and the rumblings of a potential assault by the Lattice Alliance. As much as he wanted to protect his own backside, he understood what was expected, especially now that he'd been promoted and was fully serving as Acting CMO, rather than waiting for Kel to take over the office again. So as soon as the order came to start prepping for the worst, Quentin shifted to Business Mode. While they'd been in spacedock, before he'd briefly departed, he'd done as much as he could to make sure the entire medical staff had everything they needed to function in the worst of the worst emergencies; considering they had managed to survive the attack from the Consortium, the Lattice Alliance seemed like small potatoes. oO Foghorn Leghorn accent - 'That's a joke, son.' Oo He'd divvied up the preparation to those he knew he could trust; these were, primarily, Chief Nurse Wyla Avae, Doctor Lana Morgenstern, and the exocomp orderly, Beguiling Enigmatic Charmer, in that order. His new minion— err, junior officer, Alyndra Syrex he opted to keep close by because he knew he'd need her help most of all, functioning as a veritable right-hand man, so to speak, since before his return he'd uh… well, lost his right hand. Each of them had been ordered to prep individual wards - Morgenstern at Ward A, where they would handle the simplest and fastest treatments, Avae at Ward B, where they would handle more advanced injuries that were just on this side of trauma, BEC at Ward D, where he could trust the Exocomp to prep for any incoming dead. That left Ward C for him and Syrex. The worst of the worst injuries would be there, the ones that would determine whether the injured officer walked out of Sickbay or was carted to Ward D. He'd been spending an awful lot of time in Ward C lately. Preparations for any incoming injuries were mostly done, so then it came to fulfilling mission parameters; he'd pulled Syrex with him into one of the medical labs to start synthesizing the known treatment for Sencha-wave radiation, and they'd been at it for a few hours by now. Quentin stood behind and to her right as he monitored her work, nodding his head slowly. Beck: Good, good, that's the tenth batch we've managed. You're getting better at this. Syrex: Response He glanced over his shoulder as the computer chimed, indicating there was another fresh batch of arithrazine ready to be distributed to each of the hypos. He crossed over to the chemical fabricator and raised his right hand to reach in to grab it… only to forget, once again, that his right hand was missing and he would need to grab with his left. Grumbling, he hooked his fingers over the edge of the container and dragged it towards the end of the fabricator panel, pulling it out and against his hip so he could carry it to the next table over. Beck: I'll grab the next pallet of vials. Once you're through with that set, let's load them on– Before he could finish the order, the Captain's voice filtered through the comm and overrode his train of thought. Niac: =/\= Bridge to Sickbay...how are you doing on those arithrazine inoculations, Doctor? If we get hit by one of those S-Wave weapons I want to have more than enough prepared for the entire crew. =/\= Pursing his lips thoughtfully, Quentin turned to approach the comm panel on the wall and stabbed at it with his thumb to open his end of the line. Beck: =/\= Steady going. Our new Ensign Syrex has almost completed the tenth batch of a hundred doses, and we're lined up to make at least ten more if all goes well. That'll leave us with approximately four doses per crewman once all is said and done. It's just time-consuming since we have to do a lot of this by hand. =/\= He winced a little at his own use of that word, jaw growing taut briefly as he shook his head at himself. Niac: =/\= I realize it's not ideal but it's the only protective measure we have at the moment. Make whatever final preparations you can, I expect things will get busy up here in the very near future. =/\= Beck: =/\= Aye, sir. I'll get a couple more sets of hands on these if it comes down to it. We certainly have enough for the initial assault, at the very least. =/\= There was a momentary pause, an audible beep coming in over the line. Something was up. Niac: =/\= Standby for action, Doctor. Bridge out. =/\= The freshly minted Lieutenant JG let out a bitter sigh and raised his hand to press the side of his pinky against the comm line to close it. Beck: I like action as much as the next guy but that usually means we're gonna be stupid busy. Syrex: Response Moving to the far wall, Quentin grabbed the handle of a hover cart that was loaded with multiple pallets of vials and dragged it over next to the table where he'd dropped off the arithrazine. Then he raised his stumpy right arm and glared at the fabric covering where his hand should have been before reaching into the pocket of his labcoat and extracting a hook that was mounted on a synthetic sleeve that fit neatly over said stump. Ohnari had told him no hooks on their last conversation, but he'd opted not to listen because he didn't know how the hell else he was supposed to use his right arm for anything until she managed to get him a prosthetic. That would unfortunately have to wait until after the encounter with the Lattice Alliance, assuming they survived it at all. That was a cheery thought. Beck: ::under his breath as he looks through the hook:: For reasons of good form, I have decided that the so-called 'Pan' will return in three days to commit the arbitrament of the sword. Syrex: Response He blinked, glancing over at her, his cheeks coloring a little. Beck: You, uh… weren't 'sposed to hear that. Syrex: Response He waved the hook dismissively and shook his head. Beck: Just me being an idiot. Are you almost done with that batch? Syrex: Response Tag/TBC Lieutenant JG Quentin Beck Acting Chief Medical Officer USS Ronin NCC-34523 A238810SA0

I'd like to thank our TO's 👏. Appreciate your time and effort in getting us ready to boldly go where no one has gone before!

Thank you! Glad to be here!