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  1. ((Deck 13, FNS Suite, DS26)) ::Kendra sat in her office a the day after the murder investigation had been resolved. Reflexively she would stretch to rub a still aching shoulder muscle. Whatever it was that her mysterious "source" Farsarr had used on her hurt like nothing Kendra had ever felt before. And why shouldn't it, it wasn't like she had ever gotten shot before which just made her want to ensure that it never happened again. Though not an expert, Kendra knew that she was probably over due for an appointment with one of the local doctors just to make sure no lasting injuries had been done. For now though that would have to wait as Kendra sat in front of her computer monitor, Cosima, her mentor being on the other side of the comm channel. Last Kendra heard, Cosima Tau was on her way to Risa or somewhere of high society which made her curious just what the woman was doing inside comm range. Gotten shot, might have been a shock in more ways then one but it hadn't dulled those ever growing report instincts of her's. In this instance the timing of Cosima's call coinciding a mere hour after Kendra had sent her article revealing the murder to be reviewed and broadcasted region wide was far too incidental. She had no reason to be distrustful of her mentor. The timing was just intriguing and to say the least, Kendra was still a little on edge.:: Tau: =/\= Darling, your looking less like, well you then usual. What have I told you about dressing to impress?=/\= ::Yeah that was trademark Cosima Tau and like it or not that was what everyone got when dealing with her. And unbelievably, too many people liked her for it.:: Eberhart: =/\= I'm pretty sure, your exact words if I remember correctly was to look presentable but never better than you. ::Kendra paused, she hadn't said it maliciously but she was rather tense still. She would take a breath before continuing.:: Getting shot does kind of put a dampener on ones was mood and appearance.=/\= Tau: =/\=Yes and about that miss... What did you think you were doing?=/\= Eberhart: =/\=Simple, investigating a murder and in the process I got ambushed by some do gooder. =/\= Tau: =/\= I thought I trained you better than to think that that is the definition of a do gooder. =/\= ::Well that was certainly true but what else was Kendra meant to call a person that handed her the whole story on a silver platter. Of course Kendra did the right thing and hold off on publishing till the killer was caught and certainly until after the facts had been verified. Of course Kendra couldn't have known but surely for a story like this, a little risk was worth it. Even if that risk came with it the aches and pains of being shot.:: Eberhart: =/\=Fair point, but again to be fair, it isn't like you haven't been shot before. =/\= ::The woman gave a warm, uncharacteristically motherly expression.:: Tau: =/\=Yes I have been put in that position more often than I care for. And that is why I asked the SB118 FNS field office to put a hold on your story. =/\= ::Kendra knew that her story wouldn't be broadcasted immediately, as it was standard practice for new feild reporter's work to be screened. It was to make sure the story's sources had been properly verified, no grammatically devastator. But on the whole it was generally a formality. Kendra had never heard of a story being put on hold for this sort thing though. Honestly Kendra found the very notion to be outrageous and she was pretty sure Cosima knew it considering the way she spoke again. :: Tau: =/\= The story you wrote Kendra, was pretty decent. Some of your best work in fact but I don't think you realise something.=/\= Eberhart: =/\= No your definitely right, I don't know what I am missing because I was pretty happy when I pressed the send key on that story. =/\= Tau: =/\= Oh I know you were. You had this glow about you that I rarely saw on you unless you had uncovered something you thought was worthwhile. =/\= Eberhart: =/\= What does this have to do with anything Cosima, I was sent here to do a job, which is a job you helped line up for me no less. =/\= ::She said feeling emboldened by her sudden irritation for her mentor. Normally she had nothing but respect for the media diva, but Kendra wasn't going to let even her dictate the content she reported. In the moment Kendra didn't know which was a more troubling prospect, going against a star fleet admiral or going against Cosima Tau, either way though it was way too late to decide not to investigate the murder of the Ambassador and all that came with it. Her reasons for doing it were good then and were still good now.:: Tau: =/\= Its just that by publishing a story like this, can and probably will make you a target whether you want to admit it or not. I was young and idealistic once, I didn't always report galactic gossip. ::Pauses:: And there is more than one reason why I don't anymore. =/\= ::giving a sigh as she slowly smiled as she realised where Cosima was coming from. The woman meant well, just had a sometimes all too irritating way of going about it.:: Eberhart: =/\= Believe it or not I have already considered fragments of your argument. And you do make a good point BUT I still want my story published. Inter-galactic gossip isn't going to satisfy me as a journalist. =/\= Tau: =/\= Yes I thought you would feel that way. I will tell SB118 HQ to go ahead and broadcast the story then but at least hire yourself a body guard or something. ::Pauses smiling:: Or better yet, leave that too me. Later Dears. Have to run, many calls to make.=/\= ::Just like that the screen went blank before Kendra could get a word in edgewise. Undoubtedly whatever Cosima ran off to do was going to be a nightmare for her, even if Cosima meant well. As Kendra sat there in the office a little longer though she found herself honestly pleased though knowing that something worthwhile had come of the last few days even if the aches and pains still remained. :: Kendra Eberhart FNS Reporter, DS26 C238805AC0
  2. (( Clear Stream, Leutra IV, Leutra System )) Millis: %##$@##5. What in the moons of Endor was that! ::Loudly.:: :: These creatures could really scream. The purple one hadn't been kicked over by her attack. A different method would need to be used. But whether the Cliff Dweller was actually capable of thinking one up... Well, maybe now, but certainly not before. She'd already been alive before the new young-ones were put in the river. It hadn't felt like a sudden change to any of the Dwellers. Instead of putting the eggs on the side of the water, their instincts now told them to put them in, and let them be carried off by the stream to get their eyes in the caves. Out of all the creatures who had gotten their eyes at a later age, she'd been among the group who had adapted the best. At first, she'd gotten quite a bit thinner due to her brain having to adjust and her constantly missing the insects she hunted, but now she functioned almost normally. She even didn't mind the low humming whenever she spotted something unusual and the hard bits in her eyes suddenly started moving. :: :: Their offspring would hatch into the water as half-naked, blind animals, but return about one light-cycle later still only partly feathered, but now with eyesight and strengthened latching claws. They still smelled as 'child', and the only difference was that because it was unclear which were whose offspring, they were raised in random nests. None of the Dwellers had ever questioned or even consciously noticed that change. Even if they were more advanced, they probably still wouldn't have. :: MacFarlane: Who’s there? I’ll get ya! sh'Idrani: You're bleeding! Were you attacked? :: The other creatures were now also very loud. They all gathered around the one she'd wounded, then stayed there for a while, making movements she couldn't quite follow or understand. They didn't seem to want to leave, though. Maybe she would have to try again? :: :: After things had calmed down a little, and the purple one had some weird flap covering his wound, she crawled closer again, but with much more care this time. One of the red ones was also near the stream now. If one of them was hard to scare off, how would two be? No, her gut told her to lay in wait. Another opportunity would come. Maybe a distraction. :: :: But... Not one of the distractions that were common in the forest. A sound from very high-up suddenly sounded, and another not-living light was visible, almost like a smaller version of a flash. A strange thing she couldn't place or recognize flew down through the sky, and then a bang louder than anything she'd ever heard before made the trees shake. The Cliff Dweller let out a loud cry of warning, and flew up in a wild panic. What was that? It had happened in close proximity to the river. With the protectiveness over the eggs once again overriding her natural panic response, she hopped over the trees until she had enough momentum to take off. The odd living creatures were also running towards the place where the bang had sounded from. :: Millis: Look over there! ::It was really close and they could be there in just a few minutes.:: MacFarlane: response :: She came to a halt at the bottom of the hill, near the crater, and her panic response decided to finally work a bit more. She stood frozen, next to the red and blue creatures, and neither seemed to notice each other. The heat and light was disorienting to her, but then, finally, some organic form moved away from the rest of the heat. It... had the same red colour. The Cliff Dweller just stayed there, half hidden in the leaves, half near the spot where the intruders were standing, and looked up with big, wild eyes. :: -- The Cliff Dweller ??? Leutra IV Inhabitant -- Played by: -- Ensign Shrega sh'Idrani Security Officer USS Gorkon G239401SS0
  3. ((Beach)) Ryland: Now we build walls so bad people can't get in... T’Sara: Gigantics walls wiff electrific spikey wires, n’a moat wiff dragons protektin us. :: She was grinning big and wide as she started to hack out the big lizard protector in the sand. Of course it would look nothing like what she imagined, but it would be perfect in her eyes.:: Garth: Dats gonna looks good, T'Sara. T’Sara: I needs more sands. Be back! :: She grabbed her pail and dashed to the freshly wet sand. Once her bucket was full she hauled it rather effortlessly considering her size and the weight. It was clear she’d inherited *some* Vulcan strength.:: ::While the others worked on the fort, Garth paid attention to Naloor and Mirana's conversation.:: Naloor: Wonder what those boats are doing? :: Garth and T’Sara paused to glance out at what they were talking about. The boats were doing what boats did. Floated.:: Mirana: I'm sure they are just sticking close by to the marina just north of here up the coast. Perhaps they are fishing or just decided to enjoy this beautiful day on the water. Naloor: Well, they are certainly not fishing...do you see any nets? Mirana: I do not :: T’Sara’s blue eyes flashed at Naloor and she could see that the woman’s aura had a disturbed flare of color to it. The little girl’s lips pursed, not liking it one little bit. This was their fun time.:: Naloor: If they were just passing by, you would think they would be making a bit more way that what they are...they look suspicious. Maybe I had better contact the Marines to keep an eye on them... Mirana: Are you feeling okay, Naloor? ::She brought her hand down from her face as she turned to the nanny.:: It's really quite common for Laudeans to set sail and enjoy each other's company in the solitude of the ocean. I'm sure it's okay. :: T’Sara poked Mirana’s leg and dropped her bucket.:: T’Sara: You say you okay, but you don’t look okay. I been to fieldy class n’ your colors is fuzzy like you need a time-out. Mirana: I'm fine T'Sara, I think Naloor might just have had too much sun. T’Sara: Den maybe you should take a nap. I have to tinkle. Mirana: I'm sure she just needs a little water. ::She handed the canteen to Naloor with a compassionate smile.:: Here. What is tinkle? T’Sara: It not nice to tinkle in the ocean. Fisheys live dare. Would it be nice if I tinkled in your house? :: The little girl glanced at Garth with a frowny face so he would know she was getting upset about something. It wasn’t about a potty-break. She was trained enough now to see the colors of a liar, and she was about to get really annoying to the woman for it.:: Mirana: I see… Yes I suppose that would be very rude. T’Sara: I’s a lady. I tinkle on a proper potty. Mirana: There is a restroom just there, T'Sara. T’Sara: I wants to go home and tinkle there. Public potties is icky. Mirana: We really should all stay together… T’Sara: I WANTS TO GO HOME!! I WANTS TO GO HOME!! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME STAY!! I WANTS TO GO HOME NOW!! I HAS TO PEE!! I WANTS DAH MARINES TO TAKE ME POTTY!!! ::With T'Sara's brat mode engaged, Garth felt it was time for him to step in. :: Garth: She needs to go potty, ifen you wonts let hers go lone, I kin go wif her. Mirana: With everything going on today it would be best for us all to stay together, no one should be off on their own… Garth: SHE GOTTA PEE. AND IT NOT NICE FOR HER TO GOES IN FRONTS OF BOYS! BUT I KIN TURN MY BACKS TO HER AND SHOW HER SOME RESPECTS. ::Taking a hold of T'Sara's hand, speaking gently:: Comes on, T'Sara. I goes wif ya. Mirana: Well, ::Turning to Naloor with an uncomfortable smile.:: I suppose that is that. They really shouldn't be traveling alone. Garth: ::pulling T'Sara with him, he began to run from her.:: YA A MEAN OLE WOMAN, MIRANA! I'M GONNA TELL ON YOU! PNPC Garth Turner-West Simmed by Rear Admiral Toni Turner Commanding Officer Embassy Duronis II - USS Thunder NCC - 70605-A Author ID number: E238209TT0
  4. ((Primary Sickbay - Deck 18, USS Blackwell)) G’Renn: Alright crewman, what’s missing? Lee: That crate of fresh medical kits that was brought up some storage earlier today. ::While cleaning up after the mass treatment of plague victims back at Debin VII, Anath had arranged for a crate of supplies no longer needed to be moved down to one of the cargo bays.Unfortunately, another crate just like it of fresh medical kits had been set down next to it at some point in the meantime. Now, the cargo that had just been brought up to sickbay was gone again. It was only a minor irritant, but it was the straw that broke the camel’s back so to speak.:: G’Renn: Computer, who moved the cargo container from Sickbay storage? ::Anath looked at the name that appeared and scowled. As irritated as she had been with all the occurrences of bad luck and inconveniences thus far, no person could really be said to be at fault for causing them. Now she had a name that she could point at as a definitive cause of her stress. The officer likely didn’t deserve any scorn of anger for just trying to be helpful, but he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.:: G’Renn: Computer, locate Ensign Ferentis Computer: Ensign Ferentis is in Cargo Bay 5. G’Renn: Thank you. Don’t worry crewman, I’ll go get those supplies back. ::She stormed out of sickbay towards the nearest turbolift. She was going to get her stuff back.:: ((Timeskip- Arrival in the cargo bay)) ((Cargo Bay 5 - Deck 15, USS Blackwell)) ::The containers he was attempting to move were far too heavy for the average humanoid. Even so, the tractor loader sat unused in one corner of the bay. Ferentis wasn’t above showing off every once in awhile, but this time, utilizing his raw muscle was more therapeutic than entertaining. His normally focused mind broiled with doubts and concerns, a rarity for him. It had been weeks since he’d been banned from his home, and though there had been no news or contact from Dupwa’thuv besides the norm, he had to assume that everything was still relatively status quo. Still, he could see the storm clouds brewing. It was only a matter of time before the status quo was nothing but a memory- one lost in the chaos only a self-destructing people could provide.:: ::He still didn’t know what his family was planning. Pakhwa’thanh were polite to a fault, but there were also inquisitive, and would pursue a question relentlessly. Banishing a member of their own species was legal, but exceedingly rare. To learn that someone with such a noble lineage had been officially cast from his world permanently would raise eyebrows if the fact ever became known, and then the questions would begin. His family was quite high in status- high enough so that a few whispers in the right ears, combined with such an honored reputation and respectable status, would make the banishing possible. Still, there were so many unanswered questions. And though he’d been expecting something like this for years, now that it had happened, everything suddenly became agonizingly real.:: ::A most pleasant thought then occurred to him. Maybe it was possible that his family wasn’t planning anything. That stopped him dead. He placed the cargo container down and pondered, claws gently caressing his leathery face. Perhaps this wasn’t the first step in a brutal and pivotal political upset or coup. Maybe this was the equivalent of cleaning house. It had been accepted for decades that he was effectively banished from Dupwa’thuv, by his family, if no one else- perhaps this was just the official notification. His heart buoyed momentarily, before remembering why he’d left home in the first place. He’d like to believe that nothing was happening. But he’d spent too long in space, and worrying about his clan and species, to grasp at comforting falsehoods.:: G’Renn: Ensign Ferentis! ::He grunted as he lowered the crate, trying not to show his surprise. He was exceptionally polite, and so calm, it was (sometimes) easy to forget he was, in fact, a nine-foot dinosaur. Still, it didn’t mean that he was immune to such feelings, and the loud voice, picked up by his sensitive hearing, and combined with the acoustic attributes of the cargo bay, scared him half to death.:: ::His eyes turned toward the very, very angry Klingon woman marching toward him. Whatever it was she was furious about, he had to admire her. Most people stopped shouting at him when they saw the length of his teeth. This individual apparently had no such fear.:: G’Renn: I would like my crate of medical supplies back. You moved the wrong crate! ::So young. So full of fire! She couldn’t have been more than, what? Twenty-five? Twenty-six? A mere child, compared to his fifty-three years. He couldn’t help but find it amusing that she was telling him off.:: ::But what about this crate business? Was it possible? Yes. Unusual, though. He’d always been known to be neat, precise, and punctual. Such mistakes were incredibly rare. Maybe his emotional baggage was impacting his work more than he’d realized.:: ::However, any attempt at defense, explanation or apology seemed futile at this juncture. The Klingon ensign was far from done lambasting him. This was not a problem. He listened attentively, looking on with curiosity as she progressively dismantled his character.:: G’Renn: Perhaps if you had bothered to check with someone, we wouldn’t have to be having this conversation! But no, you just assumed you had the right crate and just went about on your merry way. So now instead of getting some rest after a fourteen hour work day, I get to sort out your mistake! ::Ah. And now they had reached the root of the problem. It wasn’t his minor error- it was the fact that she was expected to fix it. He could absolutely understand her rage, and did not begrudge her at all. Still, such a...violent breach of etiquette was both entertaining and fascinating. He’d never been privy to such displays back home- emotional outbursts, especially the hostile kind, were all but unheard of.:: G’Renn: Well, if you’re just going to stand there, I’ll just move the crate myself! ((Cargo Bay 5 - Deck 15, USS Blackwell)) ::Every person was different, and if he had thought that performing a certain action would have appeased her more than standing there and listening, he probably would have done it. Then again, he was fairly confident that this poor, overworked individual was reaching the zenith of her explosive decompression. He doubted he could say anything to calm her now.:: ::Anath didn’t remember what piece of equipment she had ordered to be sent back down to the cargo bay, the specifics lost in the busy flow of work in sickbay. However, experimentally testing the weight of the container proved one thing. Whatever was inside was heavy, even for Anath with her above-average Vulcan strength. She tried to brush it off as just a casual inspection of the crate before walking over towards one of the anti-grav units. She paused and looked back at Ferentis, part of her still very unhappy with the engineer. She couldn’t help it, and impulsively opened her mouth once more.:: G’Renn: Or, if you wanted, you could say something like “I’m so sorry for the mix-up. Here, let me help!” ::Of course, were he convinced that using his bountiful social grace would alleviate the situation (and the ensign’s apoplectic state), he would have happily apologized, offered to fix the mistake through any means necessary, and suggested that he pay for his mistake by taking on one of her duty shifts. Such was the Pahkwa’thanh tendency to over exaggerate. But in recent years, he’d begun to realize something he never thought would ever occur to him.:: ::”Polite” was not necessarily “kind”.:: ::Everyone needed to explode once in awhile- even him, though no one would ever see it and live to speak of it. Perhaps what this ensign needed was a punching bag. And he was simply overjoyed to take on that responsibility.:: ::She dropped the anti-grav and started pacing back and forth. She needed to put her anger in check before she said something she might regret. Well, that line had been crossed already, but now she could still walk away and apologize once she managed to get a handle on her anger once again. If only she could know when to leave well-enough alone. This engineer wasn’t even saying anything, yet she kept on fuming! One could only yell for so long about nothing:: G’Renn: Well, do you have anything to say! Anything? ::Ferentis stayed perfectly silent. A slow blink was his only response.:: G’Renn: ::With increased irritation at his silence:: You can talk, can’t you? Ferentis: oO Not with you carrying on like that. Oo ::It was merely an observation, one that held no malice or anger.:: G’Renn: You useless petaQ! ::Ooh! New curse words! Fun! Ferentis felt a bit like a hatchling let loose in a slaughterhouse. All these new experiences that he’d barely ever been treated to on Dupwa’thuv. It was absolutely delightful. Still he stayed perfectly motionless and mute.:: ::The most recent angry outburst to come out of her mouth stunned her, the realization of exactly what was coming out of her mouth hitting her with the same force as a punch to the jaw. Anath slipped into the reserve pool of untranslatable Klingon insults and curses in only two situations. First, if she was among rowdier Klingons like her cousins who considered those words a vital and important part of a person’s daily vocabulary and who wouldn’t react should she kindly request they leave her alone using more polite words. The second and far more common situation was when she’d truly and completely lost her cool and let her temper run away with her. It was a sign that all her usual manners and kind personality had been jettisoned out of the nearest airlock while her more direct and aggressive instincts took over. She turned and walked towards the door to give herself a moment to catch her breath:: G’Renn: I- I’ll be right back… ::Then, and only then, did Ferentis give a single, slow nod- permission, understanding, and friendly intent all wrapped into one simple motion.:: ::As she exited, Ferentis idly wondered if she would, in fact, return. Once someone had fully evacuated themselves of pent-up fury, oftentimes they would be too embarrassed to return, and/or apologize. No apology was necessary, but he again found himself curiously speculating on the (still nameless) ensign’s priorities.:: ::Sitting down on the floor, Anath focused on her breathing. Inhale, hold, exhale. It was a simple pattern, but one that didn’t normally require a great deal of thought. It had definitely felt good to clear all that pent-up range and aggravation on Ensign Ferentis, but it was also completely improper. First of all it was just plain rude! But there could be other consequences for that little outburst of her’s, as her counselor at Starfleet Academy could attest to. When she finally felt that she had gotten comfortable in her new home her temper ran away with her again. She needed to apologize, immediately!:: G’Renn: oO But what do I say… Oo ::It took her around five minutes to fully cool off and work out what her apology should be. At one point she stood up to walk back into the cargo bay without any particular conversation-starter in mind, but that strategy had not been particularly productive earlier. Instead, she paced back and forth, considering just what should be the first words out of her mouth when she went into the room to apologize. Finally, she had a basic apology in mind and stepped back inside the cargo bay.:: G’Renn: ::Meekly:: I’m sorry about that Ensign… it was, unbecoming of me to say those things. ::So she had returned. Impressive. Most Klingons he’d met held pride and honor as the most important things in their existence. To face such a wounding to either took courage, strength, and humility. All good things. And even if the ensign hadn’t displayed such a willingness to apologize, Ferentis was sure he would have taken a liking to her anyway.:: Ferentis: It is quite alright. ::He gave a far deeper nod of forgiveness. For some reason, he spoke almost as much with his head and neck as with his mouth.:: G’Renn: I realize we probably got off on the wrong foot, and was wondering if perhaps a round of drinks on me would help to get things back on track between us? ::She wouldn’t actually be drinking of course given her low tolerance for alcohol, but she had learned that the offer often worked as a very effective cure-all to social situations. As long as it might help patch up the bridge her more aggressive self had just tried to burn Anath was willing to extend the invitation. She might not walk away with physical injuries like her encounter with a giant lizard-man on her cadet cruise, but she certainly was suffering from a class four case of wounded pride.:: Ferentis: ::Smiling kindly, almost like a grandfather.:: I would be delighted. And, I am sorry about the mix-up. END Ensign Anath G'Renn Medical Officer, USS Blackwell - Andaris Task Force A239402AG0 AND Ensign Ferentis Engineer USS Blackwell NCC 58999 G239202RS0
  5. ((Brell’s Quarters, Deck 4, USS Blackwell)) ::He sat at the desk in the living area of his quarters. With shore leave about to begin he would be spending most of the Blackwell’s trip to it’s main port of call in his office going over transfers and other personnel matters. There was one thing he could take of now and he leaned back in the chair as he spoke aloud.:: Brell: Computer begin log entry. ::The acknowledgement beeps from the computer came immediately.:: First officer’s log stardate 239106.13, today was say goodbye to Debin VII and the Caraadian Navy Ship, Burracanthris. The Blackwell’s doctors have seen to the distribution and recovery of those who were infected. The last Caraadian patient was released to the Burracanthris, at 0430 this morning. No thefts, or complaints from the medical staff were reported in regards to the patients. I had been concerned at first taking so many aboard for several weeks but that was proven to be unfounded. The engineering feats made to keep the ship from falling to the ground, and possibly destroying the planetoid, have all been filed and sent to the SCE for their enjoyment. ::He paused hearing that Morin had stepped out of the sonic shower, and had started shaving his head. Living with his nephew the last few weeks had been interesting, and a nice distraction during his off hours. He had been there for support that Brell was in need of during this trying time of strife within his marriage. Clearing his throat he continued in order to wrap up his log entry before the youth emerged from the bathroom.:: Brell: We have set course back to Deep Space Twenty Six and should be arriving within the next five hours. I am looking forward to seeing my children and my spouses and enjoying some shore leave. ::It felt odd not including that he was unsure if he would be spending much time with his spouses. That was for his personal log and he had not been talking about much else in it. Lyldra had on average accepted his comm request twice each week he had been away. She had recorded a return message a few times as well, and there was Hars. He had only recorded a message once, and that had been with the twins so they had not talked about their feelings at all. It had been devastating. Brell had been Lyldra and Hars’ co-husband for six years and had never gone this long without speaking to them pretty much every other day.:: ::Morin walked out of bathroom towel wrapped around him. He reminded him so much of himself when he was in the academy. Immersed in a culture so different than his own, learning new things and defining himself, as well as having fun. He was also reminded he was once as slim and fit as the younger man, and smirked at the thought of meeting himself at about that age when he said he would never let the Bolian males predisposition for stockiness effect him.:: Morin: So have Aunt Lyldra and Uncle Hars said where to meet up yet? Brell: No, they would have gotten my message last night too. ::Morin sat on the couch nearest to the his uncle and face him. He felt like they should be sitting around in some sauna somewhere soaking in the steam as they chatted. He would have to bring up the idea for after their next workout session.:: Morin: ::Sighing:: And the one from the day before that and the day before that and so on. I bet they haven't even watched it and still have a few days of backlog. Brell: You could be right, but .. I’m used to talking to them more often. It was hard when Lyldra was away on the Darwin while Hars and I remained stationed on at the Embassy. This … this is worse. Morin: oO And you feel like you deserve it, which to an extent you do, no one could blame them for not wanting to see you for awhile. Oo ::He knew his uncle was well aware of that fact, and there was no need to say it aloud other than to hurt him. In the weeks since Morin had moved into Brell’s quarters he had been the shoulder to cry on and motivator to keep him from falling into a self loathing depression. Uncle Brell had been there for him as a child after his parents sudden deaths. So, he was quite happy to be helping him through a tough time now. He had used this, in helping to establish a rapport and bedside manner with the patients he had help oversee these past few weeks. He imagined what their families must be going through worrying about them … the strife was for different reasons of course, but the empathy was what was important.:: Morin: Lyldra did say she would bring the twins over to stay with you for a few days while Blackwell is there. ::Being away from his spouses also meant being away from his children. Renu, and Linalu would be aware of something off with their parents, of that Brell was sure. He was glad they not older even by a few years as Bolian families all shared in the psychological distress during times like this.:: Brell: I look forward to it. I … I have something to ask, when you see Lyldra and Hars, Ask them if can do anything. Morin: You know they need space and time to deal with feeling betrayed and angry, they understand you're not fully to blame but you took the full responsibility anyway. ::He had told him this all before during times Brell had been more down on himself than he needed to be. Brell had also said all of it before himself. Both knew this was a cycle of regret, and Brell wanting to throw himself at their mercy to do anything for forgiveness.:: Brell: I know that. ::Smirking.:: You can tell them I am sufficiently beating myself up over here. Morin: ::Laughing:: They know that from the twenty one messages they have gotten from you. ::Brell joined in the laughter. Which felt quite good, he very much missed laughing often.:: PNPC Cadet Morin, Medical Trainee, Uss Blackwell, NCC-58999 With and Simmed by, Commander Brell - First Officer Andaris Task Force, USS Blackwell NCC-58999 Academy Deputy Commandant E239109B10
  6. ((Alcatraz Net Café, Marina District, San Francisco - 239105.31 19:01 Hours)) ::Micced earpiece. Check. Five hour pre-paid public terminal. Check. Cola. Check.:: Choi: Turing, transmit “Best of Neo Alba Ra” kit to Alcatraz Net Café console 09 and initiate. Turing: Uploading. ::pause:: Good hacking, Aphelion. ::Ji-hu blushed, glancing around, but the Café was mostly empty. He took a deep breath, the fewer steps the better, the less there was to trace back to him or Cadet Bancroft.:: ::He started on social media.:: ::At parties, people loved posting pictures of themselves, which geolocated to real-time places. This made his job relatively simple. This was a big party and he quickly found a group of cadets posting pictures at the wedding reception, Moreau Manor, geolocated to the Buena Vista Heights, right where they had thought it would be. He pulled up the relative location on a civilian map application and quickly matched the house in the image with those seen from above in frighteningly high-quality imaging. A beautiful, ancient Terran manor left over from the 20th century, although clearly well maintained. The Moreau’s came from past generations of tech moguls, and while the acquisition of materials mattered to few Terrans in the modern era, the family’s past successes clearly meant they kept a not-so-modest household.:: Choi: /Aphelion to Shadow Leopard. D-do you read me?/ Bancroft: /Shadow Leopard. Go ahead, Aphelion./ Choi: /He’s there, and I have an address. 709 Buena Vista West, overlooking the west side of the park. I’ll start doing some research, check in when you’re nearby./ ::Ji-hu pulled up some of the imaging and began to scrutinize the pictures, ignoring the human faces and looking at layout and security. A few cameras, private company, subtle, but not enough to escape notice. The wedding reception was perfect cover. The house’s security systems would be turned off, and what was one more stranger wandering around looking for the bathroom? Ji-hu ran a search for private residential security in the Bay Area and began to pour over the equipment and services they offered before thought he had a match. Palladium Home Security Systems.:: ::Now the real fun began.:: (( Buena Vista Heights - Geolocated Circle )) ::Colleen was at a nearby bodega when Choi came on the comms with their target.:: ::Everything had started off so simple - a regular old assignment on a holodeck for one of her classes. The Cadet she’d been assigned to work with - a snooty Engineering Sophomore who seemed to hate her for reasons she couldn’t possibly fathom (besides turning down his incessant requests to go on a date with him) - had been a royal pain since they’d begun the assignment, and had only continued to be a problem once they were on the holodeck. As with all assignments, they were recording the run, each of them. The assignment went off smoothly enough, despite a single minor fumble on Colleen’s part, and they’d collected their recordings once it was over. However, when Colleen had went back in later to try and review the recording, she’d found out that the device she’d been using was completely blank. Her recording was gone. A few hours later, she’d found a message from her “lab partner” saying that he had the recording that showed how she’d screwed up the entire assignment - and the little [...] had been so arrogant as to even take a picture of the chip with the recording on it..:: ::Oh, that had gotten her blood boiling. Fraking little Sophomore, getting in the way of her work. So, she’d decided that revenge was in order. Time to get that recording back and wreak a little havoc on the [...] in the process. So, her first call had been to Choi Ji-hu, Engineering extraordinaire. Once he had agreed to help her - they’d become friends, so he hadn’t taken very long to agree - she’d laid out the situation to Grace. Grace, in the middle of her Intelligence major, had grinned when Colleen had explained the plan, and agreed on the spot.:: ::A little leg work later, and they’d determined that the Cadet’s sister was preparing to get married, and the wedding reception would be at their manor. Colleen had no worries that when it came time, Ji-hu would be able to find the exact location. Based on where the message had come from, they’d had a rough idea of where to go, so she and Grace had been on opposite sides of the geo-shot when Choi had found the manor itself.:: Bancroft: /Copy that. German, you got that?/ Freeman: /Got it. Moving in. Aphelion, let us know when you’ve got more intel please./ ::Colleen left the bodega at a light jog, enough that she wouldn’t break too much of a sweat, heading for the manor that Ji-hu had indicated.:: (( Alcatraz Net Café )) Choi: /Hello Mr. Ians, this is Carl from Palladium IT. I’m r-really sorry to bother you so late on a Friday night, but unfortunately there’s been a security breach and your account’s b-b-been targeted./ Ians: /[...]… again? I thought you guys fixed this with the new encryption scheme last year./ Choi: /Yeah… I know, sir... b-b-between you and me, the company really didn’t go with the best software. And they haven’t been shelling out for upgrades./ Ians: /::scoffing, grumbling:: ... bigwigs... / Choi: /If it’s any consolation, your account w-w-wasn’t the only one affected. We’re going to be putting in a long night here.../ Ians: /They better have a case of beer waiting for you boys on the other end. What do you need, kid?/ Choi: /I just need to confirm your identity and g-g-get some information from you to access your account and reset your password. We’ll s-start with your d-d-date of birth.../ ::”Exploit” sounded like such a dirty word. Ji-hu couldn’t feel too bad about it… a security company that was so easily duped by a teenager in a net café. He justified it to himself, as he had so often done, that he was simply breaking into the system to use it, rather than hurt anyone. In fact, he hoped to help Colleen. A sort of ends-justifying-the-means deal. With luck, Allan Ians of Palladium’s surveillance systems security, who was far too easy to find and get in touch with through the net, would figure out what had happened when his login didn’t work on Monday morning. If he had any brains at all he’d reset his password, not say a word and hopefully learn a lesson to not blindly trust “Carl from IT.”:: ::Front door, back door, two backyard, greenhouse, two perimeter and one indoor camera, in some sort of study or office. That’s what Ji-hu had access to inside Palladium’s surveillance, and he could see now that the party was in full swing. Perhaps a hundred people or more crammed into the backyard, milling about the outdoor bar, dancing before a DJ booth, spilling out from inside the house, the lower levels mostly, from what he could see in the security feeds.:: ::Now if he could only find a layout of the house... Ji-hu could get Colleen inside, but he’d be blind once she was in there. Sure, he could make some educated guesses from what he could see, but it wasn’t enough. If only he’d had more time to prepare…:: (( Buena Vista Heights - Moreau Manor )) Bancroft: /Shadow Leopard to Aphelion./ Choi: /Aphelion here./ Bancroft: /Alright, we’re almost on site./ Choi: /Good. Guests are entering through the house, b-but it looks like the caterers are using a narrow alley to the right of the m-m-main entrance./ Bancroft: /Perfect. German, you ready?/ Freeman: /Pfft. Born ready. Give me a shout when you’re ready./ ::Colleen clicked her mic twice at her girlfriend and jogged past the manor and towards the back alley. Once there, she spent a moment watching the caterers. There were only a couple outside.:: Bancroft: /Aphelion, can you take down the back camera for about…. Twenty seconds?/ Choi: /Affirmative. Looping s-s-security feed, let me know when you’re by./ ::One of the vans was open to her mouth of the alley, and inside she found a set of uniforms. Grabbing one that would easily fit her, she threw it on over her clothes, then dropped back out of the van and headed for the doors. Nodding at a couple of the staff, none of which gave her a second glance, she entered the door. Grace’s training - “Look like you belong. Nobody will question you.” She found herself inside a decent sized room, where catering staff entered and exited through a door across the room.:: Bancroft: /Aphelion, German, I’m in. German, distraction on my mark please.../ ::Grace sent a double click back across the channel. Colleen grabbed a tray from the prepped group, and swept through the double doors, and then through to the outside, looking the part of another boring staff member - except, you know, the earpiece in her ear and the mic sitting against her throat. Fortunately, the second was hidden by the catering uniform, and the first was small enough to be easily missed. For several minutes, Colleen milled about with the tray, until it was empty. She passed it off to another member of the staff once she was back into the house, begging off to find the restroom. She was directed to a restroom for guest staff - and beside it, a door that led to a stairwell going up. Looking all the part like she’d just opened the wrong door, she slipped into the bathroom.:: Bancroft: /Okay, so… there’s a staircase back here. Aphelion, any luck finding blueprints for this place?/ (( Alcatraz Net Café )) ::Ji-hu had no luck whatsoever. As he kept an eye on Colleen making her way through the party, standing out no more than any of the other servers, he’d been searching through the net fruitlessly. Comm links to the Moreaus all went through their companies, they had no public listings as far as he could see.:: Choi: /Um… Shadow Leopard, I’ve got a plan, but I n-need a contact to Mr. Marcus Moreau, or his partner. A b-b-business card, a scribbled n-note, anything!/ Bancroft: /Moment.../ Choi: /Once I h-have that I promise I can get you in and out of the s-s-second floor fast./ ::Ji-hu flicked through the security feeds. Marcus Jr., the Moreau’s son, was headed from the greenhouse into the house.:: Choi: /Damnit! T-target is inside./ (( Buena Vista Heights - Moreau Manor )) ::Colleen left the bathroom and returned to the service area. It took a couple minutes, but she finally found a small board that had contact information scribbled on it, hanging on a wall near a desk with a massive amount of paperwork on it. She took a quick picture of it with her PADD and sent it to Ji-hu before somebody got suspicious.:: ::Crap. With the target inside, Colleen had a much, much higher chance of getting spotted by somebody she knew. She made herself scarce just in time for the [...] to barge into the prep area and start yelling at the wait staff.:: Bancroft: /Try the address I just sent you. Hopefully it’ll work, but no guarantees. German, continue standby for the distraction. I’ll need it to get upstairs, especially with the local security./ ::Grace double clicked her mic once more.:: (( Alcatraz Net Café, Marina District, San Francisco - 239105.31 19:35 Hours )) ::Ji-hu flicked through the feeds nervously, glancing about. An administrator had popped onto the surveillance network, but there were multiple accounts logged on. He hoped one more didn’t look suspicious.:: ::Finally Colleen responded.:: Choi: /Standby./ ::Ji-hu had a comm link program on the computer standing by, routing his call through an anonymous number, as before. He waited anxiously as the line rang once, twice, three times, four.:: Moreau Sr.: /Moreau./ Choi: /Hello Mr. Moreau, this is… Carl... from the c-contractors./ Moreau Sr.: /Contractors? This really isn’t the best time./ Choi: /My apologies, Mr. Moreau, we’re just f-f-finallizing the plans for the upstairs bathroom r-renovations next week, but we n-n-need detailed blueprints to confirm everything with the… the plumbing specialist./ ::Moreau Sr. swore.:: Moreau Sr.: /Did Phillip order this?! I swear he has that bathroom done every other year./ ::Ji-hu stuttered a moment, thrown off by the man’s anger while simultaneously watching the Moreau patriarch on the security feed.:: Choi: /I… I… I understand, s-sir! My… g-g-girlfriend… Colleen, she’s had the kitchen redone three times in the past year?/ ::Ji-hu physically slapped his forehead, but the man seemed distracted enough by the party around him to not noticed the fallacious statement.:: Moreau Sr.: /Again, I really must be going.../ Choi: /We’ll just need the blueprints b-b-before we leave tonight, or w-we’ll have to postpone.../ Moreau Sr.: /Fine. Where?/ Choi: /Oh! … Uh… Turing Renos Inc. ... / ::He created the fake company’s fake message address as quickly as his fingers could fly across the keyboard, spelling out the address as he came up with it. The message came through seconds after the receiver had been authenticated. Ji-hu thanked Moreau Sr. and collapsed backwards in his seat as he deleted the account he had created for the sole purpose of scamming the blueprints off the man..:: Choi: /Alright… I’ve g-g-got it.../ (( Buena Vista Heights - Moreau Manor )) ::Colleen had to work very hard not to snap at Ji-hu across the comm for accidentally leaving his end open as he called the address she had provided. But, since she was just waiting for the moment, she listened to his end of the conversation. When he invoked her name -- over the kitchen?! -- she had to spend several moments doing breathing exercises. The middle of an op was not the time to be losing her head. Once the call was over, it seemed Ji-hu was talking to them. She chose not to make it clear that she’d heard his end of the conversation, and instead simply thanked him for the blueprints. A few moments for review, and she found that the staircase back here wasn’t actually listed on the blueprints. Well, that was annoying.:: ::She shrugged her shoulders and slipped into the stairwell anyway. Shedding her catering uniform and then her jeans and t-shirt, she checked her black clothes once over then headed upstairs. At the top, she found herself in a narrow passageway that twisted off into dim light. Shrugging, she walked slowly along one of the passages.:: Bancroft: /Shadow Leopard to Aphelion. Has the target gone back outside yet?/ Choi: /Affirmative. Target is in the b-backyard./ Bancroft: /Copy./ ::Colleen continued to creep along the passageway until she reached a door. She listened at it for a few moments. Hearing nothing, she very slowly pressed the door open. She found herself in a bedroom. The door closed silently behind her, and when she glanced back at it, she found that it was covered by a painting, completely hidden.:: Bancroft: oO Huh. Secret passageways. Oo ::She quickly consulted her PADD. If she was right, she was in…. a bedroom. But it definitely looked like a guest bedroom. She sighed silently - there was no way she would have gotten the correct one the first time - and padded to the door. She opened it, slowly and just a hair, and listened. In the distance, she could hear the sounds of the party, but nothing closer. She opened the door a little further and looked out. The hallway was dark, and her movement didn’t trigger any lights. Thank goodness for manual switches.:: Bancroft: /Okay, if I’m lucky, I won’t need the distraction until I’m exfilling. Aphelion, party status?/ Choi: /They’re making toasts… so just d-don’t make any noise or t-turn on any lights./ ::Colleen crept down the hallway to the left first. The only two rooms down there also turned out to be guest rooms, so she went the other way. The first room that way was a huge - almost cavernous master bedroom. None of the clutter that had been in the original pic the [...] had sent showed, so she moved on.:: ::Three more rooms, and nothing. Finally, she found the room. It was cluttered to no end, and it looked like the floor didn’t even exist with the crap on it. Glancing around, she made her way to the bedside table first. A check of the drawers revealed nothing, and nothing was on top of it either. The pair of shelving units in the room revealed nothing either, so Colleen finally made her way to the desk. The top of the desk was covered in PADDs and other junk -- until there it was. The data chip with the assignment on it, plugged into a PADD just as it had been two days before when the picture was sent.:: Bancroft: oO Right. See if we can avoid this being linked back to us... Oo ::Colleen grabbed the PADD, disconnected the data chip, grabbed a few other PADDs at random, and then scattered the rest of the PADDs over the desk, randomly, but as quietly as possible. Once that was done, she headed back for the bedroom door - when everything went sideways.:: ::The second Colleen stepped over the threshold to the doorway, an alarm started to blare. Colleen swore across the comm link.:: Bancroft: /German, distraction now please, a big one, now! Aphelion! What the hell just happened??/ Freeman: /Ten seconds./ Choi: /I… I don’t know! Standby!/ ::Colleen ran down the hallway to the bedroom she’d come out of earlier, as the hallway lights snapped on above her and feet pounded on stairs. She closed the door, locked it, and then ran to the painting. It didn’t budge. She wasted a few moments searching for a switch, until she found it -- right in the nose of the subject of the painting.:: Bancroft: oO Why?!? Oo ::But the painting swung open, admitting her, just as somebody ran into the door, hard, causing it to shake in its frame. Colleen dived into the tunnel behind the painting, and it closed itself silently behind her. Less than two seconds after it closed, she heard the door on the other side break down. Not wanting to count on her pursuers not knowing about the tunnels, so she moved as fast as she quietly could back to the staircase, then went down it. At the bottom, she pulled on her outer clothes, then the uniform, as rapidly as she could. No sounds of pursuit, so she waited at the bottom of the steps.:: ::Suddenly, there were shouts of alarm as a loud THUMP sounded from outside. After a quick three count, Colleen dove out the door of the stairwell, and ran for the back door. Her timing had been almost impeccable, as the other catering staff were running out that door as well.:: Bancroft: /Aphelion, status!/ (( Alcatraz Net Café )) ::The administrator, it had to be the administrator. Maybe Palladium’s systems were better than he had assumed. Ji-hu scrambled, trying to find something he could do, but he’d screwed up royally, letting the alarm get tripped like that.:: Choi: /I’ve g-g-g-got nothing! Standby!/ ::He flipped through the security feeds, looking for something, anything. Then he saw it. He double checked the name and contact information, configured the brute force attack, enacted the attack and then hit the comm line.:: Choi: /Both of you, comms off! Cover your ears!/ (( Buena Vista Heights - Moreau Manor )) ::In essence, all Ji-hu did was make a comm call to the DJ, but he simultaneously had a comm scrambler target the line and blast it with every audio file on the DJs connected console, which was in turn connected to the sound system in the backyard. The result, he had to imagine, was something like a Klingon opera meeting an Alba Ra concert meet a 20th century punk rock show at the absolute loudest volume the system could manage. Not deafening, but some people standing next to the speakers might lose a couple of decibels.:: ::Colleen yanked her earpiece from ear and shoved it into a pocket in her day clothes. She made it into the alley right as there was terror from the front of the house. With a very slight grin, she covered her ears like everybody else - it was loud, even in the alley - and ran like hell for the exit.:: ::A couple blocks away, Colleen lost the catering uniform, shoving it in a dumpster, and carefully reinserted her earpiece into her ear. It didn’t seem to be squealing, so she hoped she’d be okay.:: Bancroft: /Report./ Freeman: /Made it out just in time. I don’t think they saw my face when I dropped the fireworks, so hopefully we’re good there. Aphelion?/ Choi: /Taking care of things on my end./ Bancroft: /Alright, pack it in gang. Meet at the exfil point./ ::Colleen slowed to a walk after a few more blocks, once she was significantly far enough away that the sirens were a good distance. The walk was a nice, summer one, and she relaxed, allowing the adrenaline to bleed off. After a couple minutes, Grace appeared beside her.:: Freeman: Hey you. Bancroft: Hey you. ::Colleen and Grace intertwined their fingers as they walked, looking for all the world like a couple out for a Saturday stroll.:: ((Alcatraz Net Café )) Choi: Turing, play Alba Ra album, “Thrash.” ::A loud, whining almost-music began to emanate through the mostly empty café as Ji-hu whipped a hypospanner and ducked underneath the desk. He flipped the console’s tower around and had it open and dug inside for the old hard drive and other pieces he needed to replace. He had them out and replaced with pieces he’d replicated at a computer parts store earlier--he’d fry the old ones later. He finished and jumped back into his seat, booting up the console just as the owner of the café came around the corner.:: Owner: Hey! You can’t play music in here! Choi: ::flushing:: S-s-s-sorry, my PADD got stuck on… I’m so b-b-bad with computers… ::He turned the music off and stood, throwing his backpack over his shoulder.:: Choi: I think there’s something wr-wrong with that terminal, I tried to r-restart it, but it’s acting really weird. ::The woman sighed and sat down, finding the wiped blank terminal in perfect working order, except none of the programs that were supposed to be on there were.:: Owner: You can grab another one while I figure this out. ::But when she looked up, Ji-hu had already disappeared out the storefront, into the darkening San Francisco night.:: (( Tram Station, downtown San Francisco )) ::Colleen sat on a bench, relaxing, Grace beside her, apparently engrossed in the latest gossip column on her PADD.:: ::Ji-hu walked up to their rendezvous location, hood pulled up despite the warmth of the night, backpack slung over one shoulder, slouching, feeling suddenly conspicuous off the console. He gave a shy smile as he approached the couple.:: Choi: Hey Colleen… nice to m-meet you in person, Cadet Freeman. Freeman: ::Not looking up from her PADD:: Choi. Take your hood off, you look like you’re doing something wrong. Bancroft: Hey Ji-hu. Don’t mind her, she’s just annoyed that you called me your girlfriend. ::Ji-hu sat on the bench next to them, covering his face in his hands in horror, flushing a deep crimson.:: Bancroft: Don’t worry about it, just… use somebody else’s name next time we do this, yeah? You know, if we have to do it again. Freeman: You covered your tracks? Choi: Yeah, I’m g-g-gonna fry the contaminated components when I get b-back on campus. ::And then crush them into a million pieces and blow them off the Golden Gate into the Bay. He’d sworn he wouldn’t do this sort of thing once he was part of Starfleet... but he’d gotten so caught up in the moment, and he couldn’t have just let some awful Engineering cadet screw Colleen over. He’d grown fond of his unarmed combat tutor.:: Freeman: Good. Shall we get out of here then? It’s been a long day and I’d rather get back to campus before anybody realizes that a trio of smoke grenades are missing… again. ::Colleen grinned and stood up, gently pulling Grace to her feet, and then the three of them headed for the train together.:: Bancroft: That definitely could have gone worse. A Joint Post By: Lieutenant (JG) Choi Ji-hu Engineering Officer USS Constitution-B C239402CJ0 AND (PNPC) Ensign Grace Freeman Intelligence and Weapons Specialist 451st Squadron, Starfleet Rangers (Simmed by) AND Ensign Colleen Bancroft Security and Tactical Officer USS Gorkon G239404CB0
  7. ((Deck 11, Security offices, USS Darwin – A, On route to Outpost Unity)) ::The mission was over.. well the ‘recover the Captain’ one was anyway, it was something that was always a little awkward for the Assistant Security Chief, trained as he had been to view everything he did as almost a mission in its self. His Boot Camp Sargent always maintained that there was only ever one mission, and that was ‘Yourself’. If you worked that mission to your full ability then wherever you were or whatever you were tasked to do made little difference, as ‘Your’ mission meant the rest would fall into place. So as it was they had returned from the ‘Rescue the Captain’, then had become involved in the de-booby trapping of the Darwin, all the explosives had been returned to the Armory and all of theirs and the borrowed ones from the Outpost had been accounted for. In addition the extra cargo netting and wires and buckets, along with the small bulkhead magnets were placed back into the cargo manifests… which brought a chuckle to him at the expense of Karami the Bactrican quartermaster:: Logan oO I wonder how she’s managing to record them, mono filament wire, cargo netting,…buckets…!!!! ….. ha ha ha. Good job we didn’t tell her it’s for dumping water on an enemy boarder Oo ::As traps went … it was a little primate more along the lines of a child’s prank, but when stopping or slowing an enemy soldier any advantage is a good one …. Especially if it also had soap in it wonderful for stinging the eyes:: Logan ::Picking up a PADD and making a note:: oO Must remember to get some more when on Unity, Fulp the Lurian merchant has some good ones that sting well Oo it brought another chuckle to him thinking of Karami logging them as …. Liquid soap ???? Oo ::The irony was that Kurt hated pranks, he had had his fair share directed his way before ……. An understanding was reached … to leave him out of it, he considered them somewhat unfunny and a complete waste of time, still he liked to hear of as many as he could to add to his collection in case such things could be adapted for a better use:: Logan ::Tapping his Comm badge:: oO Now that the ship is clear, I’d better inform the Engineering before I have Engineers battering Security for taking its time Oo =/\=Lieutenant Logan to Commander Varaan =/\= Varaan =/\= Go ahead, lieutenant. =/\= ::The background noise indicated the Darwin’s Chief Engineer was in main engineering right next to the warp core:: Logan =/\= Sir, just to inform you Security has swept the Darwin and it’s all clear, your Engineers can work unhindered =/\= ::In reality this Conversation wasn’t strictly necessary as the Vulcans Engineering teams had moved into the areas as the Security had cleared the section’s, but ‘The mission is Yourself’, he had said he would let the Commander Know so he would let him know plus if he didn’t then he would have him contacting Security instead:: Logan oO Much easier this way Oo Varaan =/\= Thank you, lieutenant. =/\= Logan =/\= Pleasure Commander, and the Security Officers are on standby by if you require extra maintenance personnel =/\= ::Kurt had made the offer while they were both in sickbay Commander Varaan had indicated that they probably not needed, but he offered again to indicate they were there if needed:: Varaan =/\= Again, thank you, Mr. Logan. However, that will not be necessary. =/\= Logan =/\= Understood Sir, Logan out =/\= ::Picking up one of the myriad PADD’s on his desk Kurt deleted the first line of the to do list, the list extended several pages:: Logan oO Wonderful, oh yes here’s your new rank and position, you’ll find rank has it’s privilege…. Yeah the privilege of knowing how to write a report that’s more than two paragraphs long … oh yes some privilege …. So what’s next on the list..Oo Logan: Talk to Ensign Watkins , and Petty Officer Cardin re Commander Icavoc … what ??? ::Checking the entry, as he didn’t remember putting that down at all, Kurt found that it was a request filed to him by the two named. The Commanders injury was no secret, the ins and outs of it were, but the fact he had no hand wasn’t difficult to find out as he had talked to each member of the Security and Tactical department before their confrontation with the J’naii ship, but what could they want. The Computer verified that they were both still at their desks within the reception area of the Security section. Picking up several PADD’s Kurt headed for the door:: Logan oO I have to head elsewhere anyway so I’ll talk to them outside Oo ::The reception area was empty other than Ensign Watkins who was the first port of call for anyone walking into the section who could then be directed to whoever they wished to see, the medium build five foot eight dark haired Ensign looked up as Kurt walked into his field of vision:: Watkins: Sir ::Like Kurt he had grown up on a colony world, unlike Kurt it had not been cut off from the rest of the federation due to oversight and lack of records but had remained a part of the ever expanding Federation canvas of space. The faintest hint of a dialect sounded through his words, not as pronounced as when Dr Cook got excited and his Scottish heritage made every words different while simultaneously gargling with nails:: Cardin: Sir ::The Petty Officers voice also acknowledged his presence, the Ops Seconded personal assistant come proof reader, alarm clock, diary and walking knowledge bank of protocols was sat at a desk in the corner, well in truth any place would have been in the corner given the shape of the area. The reception area had not been designed to accommodate two people for any length of time, so at least for now she would have to make do. Today she had her dark brown hair loose which being just longer than shoulder length framed her face as she looked up. It had been good to know that she hadn’t been injured in any of the confrontations they had had recently she was……:: Logan oO ….. To good an Officer to loose yes that was it too good to loose Oo Watkins: Can we help Sir? Logan: urm… Yes, yes this message that you sent regarding Commander Icavoc’s injury ? ::Officer Cardin stood from behind her desk and walked over to stand beside the Ensign:: Watkins: Well sir, we heard of the Commanders injury, and after looking up … well … that he… is … Cardin: Basically a tree ::It was a thing he liked about the Petty Officer, she was smart, singularly brilliant at what she did, good looking and straight forward with the ability to say things as they were without them sounding offensive:: Cardin: So the whole team put their heads together to get the Commander a present so to speak Watkins: Nodding he bent down and retrieved a small box from the desk draw and placed it on the desk top, lifting the lid off it revealed a pair of mid forearm type gloves:: Their fire resistant sir while still retaining full tactile use, consoles… PADD’s etc ::Kurt picked one of the gloves up feeling how lightweight it was:: Cardin: The team thought it would help bring him back sir Logan:: A broad smile crossed his face:: These are a brilliant idea, only one thing missing ::Looking at the two now puzzled faces looking at him :: Get everyone from both sections to put their names on a card the Commander deserves to know how everyone feels, once that’s done then we shall present it to him. ::Leaving the two Officers to arrange that Kurt headed out towards the Turbolift and his next item the Shuttlecraft Cristobal:: ((Deck 8, Main Shuttle Bay)) ::Despite the damage to the ship the Main Shuttle bay had remained pretty much undamaged, leading to the bay being also used as a small storage area for equipment to be used both inside the ship but also readied to be ferried outside once the ship dropped out of slipstream drive and arrived back at the Outpost. As an almost nod to Commander Icavoc’s injury several wall mounted screens had blown out which also made the undamaged bay feel a little surreal. Laying his hand a bulkhead just inside the door Kurt looked around the bay:: Logan: I bet you’d like to get back to what your built for wouldn’t you where the only danger comes from binary stars, and the only damage is me trying to punch hole in a bulkhead…. You and me both….. ::Giving the wall a small pat headed of towards one of the two type 11 Shuttle’s they had on board, the Cristobal other than being moved from where it had landed after returning with the Captain, and having the extra weapons and equipment removed, was untouched. Activating the door Kurt stepped inside and sat on the pilot’s seat placing his PADD’s onto the co-pilots seat in the unlit cockpit, the light from the Shuttlebay was sufficient to see by but Kurt wasn’t here to sit and admire the view, running his hands over the console in front of him he powered up the internal systems. Shuttles were a ubiquitous part of federation life and as such there were few people who couldn’t fly one as the basic controls were the same for starship runabouts, Shuttlecraft, civilian shuttle craft even starships themselves, however that’s where the similarities ended the basic controls maybe the same, idiot proof was how one instructor had mentioned, there was a big difference between being able to fly one from A to B to just get there and do a Shayne or Varaan with one. Kurt was the former, yes he had flown Marine drop ships, but after being told that although they had the name of drop ships didn’t mean that you flew them as such and dropped them to the ground from any height he had tried as a combat pilot for close in fight support….. and the less said about his Commanding Officers missing top floor of his house the better:: ::Operating the internal systems of the Shuttle had little chance of doing anything quite as drastic as that, as the consoles came to life and began to light up the internal lights flicked on. Knowing that they would be seen from the control booth and any power activation whether visible or not would show on the booth’s control panels Kurt reached over and activated the Comm circuit:: Logan =/\= Lieutenant Logan, Shuttle craft Cristobal to Shuttlebay control =/\= Control =/\= Control Here Lieutenant, you’re on the order list for a shuttle Sir =/\= ::Kurt could almost see the concentration as the control officer tried to find the words to tell a senior officer that he wasn’t due for that shuttle, not letting the duty officer wait Kurt signalled back:: Logan =/\=Correct control, I’m not taking the Shuttle out but downloading logs from the internal systems, will inform you when I’ve finished and powered down the shuttle =/\= Control =/\= Understood Lieutenant, Control out =/\= ::Pulling up the logs Kurt found the only activation was there’s which made things easier, the internal records only started from when they were already seated in the Shuttle and he had given Dr Pond the screamer for her to use. Copying everything from the internal computer storage Kurt moved to the back where the seating was a little more comfy and finalised his away team report adding the internal and external sensor data to it. Re reading it to verify he had left nothing out Kurt uploaded it to the Main Computer and sent it to Commander Icavoc for his operational reviews, he had no doubt that it would be returned needing alterations and amendments but at least for now that was another thing of his to do list, but as soon as he did that another thing went on it… personnel reviews as his Department Chief was still off duty the after action performance reviews would also need to be done by him. Between his to do list and the investigation of the death of Lieutenant Janel Tarna Kurt wasn’t sure how much shore leave would be have:: Lieutenant Jg Kurt Logan - Assistant Security Chief USS Darwin, NCC - 99312 - A E239203KLOHY
  8. ((Deck 7, Shayne's Quarters, USS Darwin-A)) ::The room would be considered chilly by most humans, downright frigid by Vulcans, and almost seasonal to Andorians. He liked it cold. It seemed that the temperature of his surroundings was directly proportional to his ever-temperamental stomach. The hotter he was, the more uncomfortable he felt.:: ::His quarters were spartan. Small things that no one else would recognize decorated the room here and there. A framed patch collection, cultivated over the years, hung on the wall. A small table stood near the chair in which he now reclined. Upon it, a pyramid shaped candle, and a stack of subtle incense burned. A velvet-lined case lay open upon it as well.:: ::The robes were bulky, but comfortable and dignified. As he sat, staring at the stars out the porthole, his fingers caressed his flute. The smooth wooden finish felt good in his hands. He'd had it specially modified so that it could play a wider range of notes. The melody was slow, and mystical, and sad, and wonderful. No sheet music sat before him, and he hadn't memorized anything. The music came from him. From the heart. He didn't know where he was going with it, and he had no interest in remembering it as he went along. There wasn't a present, or a past, or a future. He just was. The world was, at least temporarily, small, and static, and peaceful.:: ::He really wished they hadn't had to leave nem. It wasn't for Iy's sake. As far as Shayne was concerned, the mutinous, traitorous, feckless pile of targ gosa could rot in the lowest corner of the underworld. So then why did he feel so torn about leaving nem? It was obvious that he hated what his martial arts mentor had turned out to be, and was grateful that he hadn't exactly been friends with nem. But you'd think that with all the technological excellence at their disposal, they could complete a rescue mission, even under those difficult conditions.:: ::His musings were cut short by a sudden rush of adrenaline. It surged through him, soiling his calm mood. His body involuntarily clenched. He swallowed hard, as his heart dropped as if he was in a free-falling turbolift. His limbs tingled in a most unpleasant way, and his face was scrunched. Clumsily, he lowered himself to his knees, where he jerkily leaned forward, inhaling some of the potent incense like his life depended on it. A single gasping weep escaped his lips as the full brunt of the anxiety attack washed over him. He was completely overwhelmed. Every one of his senses was confusedly urging him to run, to hide, to fight, to scream. Everything looked threatening, everything was a monster prepared to relieve him of his life. The more he tried to suppress his overactive imagination, the more graphic the images became. In his mind's eye, the bulkhead directly beside him ripped open with an ear-rending shriek of metal, and he watched as his perspective became that of the story playing out inside his mind. He found himself lifted, quickly and mercilessly, out of his quarters and into the godless cold of space. He tumbled and spun, his arms and legs flailing madly as he instinctively sought some purchase on dry, stable ground. The stars zoomed pass sickeningly quickly. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe!:: ::He couldn't hold back any longer. With an almighty retching sound, he gagged. The minimal, fluidic contents of his stomach came up and redecorated a small part of his carpeted floor. His face was beet red. The pressure that had been placed on the back of his eyes during the long, painful upchuck had broken several of his ocular blood vessels. He now had the vague appearance of an inebriated raccoon. But that was the last thing on his mind. Perhaps, perhaps, he might finally get some sleep. Exhaustion and sleep deprivation was one of the most unpleasant things he'd ever been forced to endure, as it seemed that it was occurring with some frequency nowadays. Maybe though, now that he was physically drained and mentally... broken, was as apt a word as any, he could...drift...:: ::Before he lost total consciousness, he moved himself to the recliner, where he collapsed, eyes closed before he'd even hit the fluffy pillows. The last thought he had before drifting off was that he should compose something for Isabel as soon as he could. He'd never done anything like it, but he was at the point where possible and impossible didn't mean a thing. He loved her. He would do it.:: TBC... Lieutenant Randal Shayne Helmsman USS Darwin NCC 99312-A G239202RS0
  9. (( The Wagon Wheel, Deck 95, D2285 )) :: Having taken some time to debate whether he actually needed all the extra things he usually lined his belt and pockets with while on duty just for a quick trip to explore the local color of the starbase the Doyle-A had been assigned to, and successfully achieving a compromise that was far less straining for the plain black cargo pants he had chosen to don that day, Akeen had quickly maneuvered toward a destination he hoped would remind him of home - the one that moved through space, to be precise. A few polite inquiries with the members of the enlisted personnel he had spent some time with after having gotten everything in order upon arrival revealed a location that was disreputable enough, per Starfleet standards, at least, to make him want to scout it out and see who else from the exploration cruiser would want to spend some time there, if nothing else. It was way too early for him to take any steps toward doing anything with his contacts, but he had told his family onboard the Thanatok about where he was posted, which meant that, if he knew anything about the freighter's crew, anyone who wanted to do any form of business with him would definitely know where to find him. :: oO Here's hoping that I don't get any more work that has me beaming up beetle snuff through low-level ionic storms, Oo :: he mused, cringing visibly at the memory as he leaned against the bar waiting for the proprietor to make some time for him. Going to the Wagon Wheel had one more purpose: since the thaan wanted to know more about the people he would serve with for some time, at the very least, and he had heard some things about what they had gone through just before he had joined them, he was also curious about how his shipmates would react to being there... or whether any of them would even be there to begin with, come to think of it. Undoing one more button on his faded brown shirt, which probably matched the theme of the place and that of his new crewmates' previous conundrum, in retrospect, given the handful of strange looks he'd gotten before disembarking, he still gave off a barely-audible sigh; the extra ventilation appeared to be more of a help than the woven-in temperature regulators, but it still felt a bit too warm in there for his liking. :: Horace: What can I get you? Akeen: What Andorian ales do you have here? :: The bartender ostensibly moved to inspect his stock, but resumed his default position a bit too quick for the engineer's liking; as far as he was concerned, that had probably been some attempt at politeness, which he could have done without. :: Horace: We're fresh out, sorry. Can I get you anything else? Akeen: That should speak for the quality of your products. What do you recommend? Horace: We've got something special here. It's not for the faint-of-heart... :: He went to retrieve a long, spiral-necked bottle from one of the top shelves, pouring a small amount of dark, oily fluid in a shot glass. :: oO Your attempt at impressing the young new visitor is noted, Oo :: the aforementioned thought, both his features and his antennae betraying no shift in his mood, as he took the glass and brought it to his nose first, then to the twin appendages on his forehead. :: Akeen: Your kanar might have gone bad... :: He took a tentative sip, swirled it around his mouth, swallowed, then emptied what was left the same way. :: It hasn't, but it's dangerously close. How long have you had this? Kanar spoils extremely easily when stored under improper conditions. The glass stopper doesn't help, but it's *tradition*, :: he stated, weighing down the last word with no small amount of derision, :: and it seems traditional for Cardassians to kill with their drinks, without even needing to poison them. How long have you had this? Horace: We don't get a lot of Cardassians in here. Akeen: You're right, this isn't one of their regions of interest... Normally, I would recommend putting it in storage, but this is really interesting - the density suggests several years after completion, but the coloration makes it look like it's fresh out of the factory. Do you trust your supplier? What you have here is an insufficiently-distilled product, which enabled it to develop dangerous amounts of toxins over time. As it is, this thing can, probably, kill a Human or a Tellarite - I've seen it happen with one of my old crewmates in the Merchant Marine. oO He may or may not have simply consumed too much after finding out his seventh wife had also started cheating on him, having locked himself up in a room for several days, but that's neither here not there. oO I'm stationed on the USS Doyle-A - do you want me to take a small sample for analysis? Horace: No, thanks. You say you can drink it? Without getting sick, I mean? :: The Andorian suddenly felt the proverbial gears turning in his head as he eyed the bartender with some amount of curiosity. :: Akeen: Yes, probably due to my Aenar heritage, oO which is to say that my zhavey is the heavyweight in the family Oo. Several other species should be fine too, but I can't drink the whole bottle - you'll need to find some more willing customers over... no more than a week, maybe two. :: It wasn't the best ploy he could have come up with, but it was something - and, judging by the appearance of the publican, it was working. :: Horace: Nope. It's your problem now, partner. :: He took the bottle and offered it to him. :: With my compliments. :: Accepting it with a curt nod and what he made to appear to be a resigned shrug, the young engineer began scanning the tavern for places where he could enjoy the fruit of his labour. One nearby table quickly caught his attention due to its sole occupant, a diminutive Security lieutenant serving on the same vessel as he did. Not recognizing anyone else upon first glance, his long strides quickly brought him to her location, the sound of his heavy-looking, but quite comfortable work boots all but muffled by the surrounding din. :: Akeen: Good afternoon, Lieutenant. Would you like to share a drink? Bam: Bam Bam love drinks Bam Bam has lots of drinks. Bam Bam invites you to sit with Bam Bam. oO Well, someone's not joking, Oo :: the Andorian decided when he looked at the beverage selection his higher-ranked peer had gotten for herself. Several of them he couldn't even name and their combined scent, from up close, was a mixture worthy of the heady [...]tail of bodies in various degrees of cleanliness, spilled drinks, personal fragrances, garment materials and miscellaneous ingredients that made up the unique signature of the Wagon Wheel. He didn't dislike the end result, even if it did feel a bit overpowering. Akeen: I should warn you that it might be harmful, oO which is to say you risk a hangover worthy of the nastiest curses Oo, :: he added, not wanting to give himself away in case anyone had paid attention to his exchange with Horace. :: You should try a small amount first. If it doesn't disagree with you immediately, you should be safe. Bam: Bam Bam no care. Bam Bam like drinks. :: One of the Lieutenant's shots rushed down the proverbial drain and she was quick to provide it company with some of what he had brought to the table. In spite of not having been truly worried for her safety, the thaan was relieved to see that she didn't mind the density of the drink either; while it wasn't as treacly as the really young stuff, it was still thicker than what many sentients considered palatable. His antennae revealed that he was quietly impressed by the overall display as he reached for a glass of his own... just as he remembered that he hadn't brought any. :: Akeen: No side-effects, Sir? Excellent. One moment, please. It looks like I went ice fishing without an ushaan-tor. :: With his joke launched into the ether, he returned to the bar, hoping that he hadn't made a far too hasty retreat with his definitely-not-ill-gotten gains. Once there, he quickly spotted a pair of similar shot glasses in the general area where Horace had previously served him; dropping a satisfied nod in his direction, he retrieved them and returned to his shipmate, taking a seat in front of her. Since everything was taken care of, he filled one of the containers he'd obtained with a modicum of care and downed it in one fel gulp. :: Bam: Bam Bam wonder, why you choose this drink? Akeen: I didn't choose it, Lieutenant; our friend at the bar gave it to me. Humans have thousands of examples of initiation through trauma in every culture I've heard about; this might have been the case here as well. He couldn't have known that I was already familiar with kanar... :: He filled his shot glass again, emptying it without any hesitation. :: You see, before the Academy, I've spent a few years on a Merchant Marine freighter. We rendered aid to a Cardassian freighter in the Deneb sector - took us a couple of standard days, because it had taken a beating from a Nausicaan ship - and it wasn't easy, I assure you; everyone we could spare took shifts down there, because the temperature controls were also frinxed and, wouldn't you know it, even when we did get them back up it was still too hot for Andorians to work full shifts in their engine rooms. :: He chuckled mirthlessly at the memory; several people, himself included, had told his thavan to put in requisition requests for EV suits if he wanted them to pull stunts like those again. :: To make a long story short, however, we got it operational, nobody was hurt and the Gul treated us to quite a bit of kanar from his personal collection, along with insights on his people's culture, booze included... and a good few bottles for us to drink to his health in the future. On long journeys with few stops and little to spend on leisure, even strange alcohol is good alcohol. :: The Andorian paused, deciding not to go in any more detail unless prompted; the log of the Thanatok would confirm his story, of course, but the entire trading history between them and Gul Perak, who had hardly been ambushed for the self-sealing stem bolts he had ostentatiously been hauling at that time, was a different thing altogether. While he trusted the sly old redbat to make sure that nothing incriminating could link him to anyone in his family, himself included, it was still wise to do the same on his end as well. :: Akeen: What about you? I'm seeing drinks from seven different cultures on your end, and those are just the ones I think I can recognize. TBC Ensign Akeen th'Idrani Engineering Officer USS Doyle-A, NCC-80221-A D239306AT0
  10. (( Upper Promenade - Deep Space 285 )) :: With the JAG meeting completed, John pretty much had nothing else to do, which was a good thing because he wanted to take a look at all the cool things the future seemed to have. It was a very strange feeling, knowing everything that was going on around him, but being surprised when he encountered them. The turbolifts, the replicators (especially the replicators) and the strangest aliens he had ever seen. What was really mind boggling was the fact that he was clear across the galaxy and the star that Earth orbited could not even be seen! :: :: Leaning on the third tier of the massive promenade that inhabited the middle layers of the starbase, John surveyed the hundreds of people going about their daily lives. It was quite fascinating to watch them. The lizard memories were bugging him to keep moving and the old cowboy had a feeling this Nugra was not one for being idle. :: oO Well, you're gonna get used to it bud. Oo :: Movement caught his eye down below and a smile came to his face as he recognized the cute figure of Talia Kaji. Discovering that she was really an alien did not disturb him as he thought it would, he was just memorized by those eyes. He hoped she never brain scanned him by accident. Having access to the starfleet database on Rodulans gave him a quick scare. The young, dark skinned woman arrived with her child to another man of Asian descent and a burning feeling of hatred seared through his brain. His mind knew who the man was, but for some reason he did not know there was so much hate. :: :: Before he could stop himself, John Nugra made his way to the turbolift and descended to the second tier promenade. By the time he re-found Kyo Maeda, Talia had gone. The urge was impossible to resist as a extremely powerful, irresistible drive pushed him forward. The male Rodulan who turned to see him coming stepped aside as John fastened his fists in to the Asian man's uniform. :: Maeda: Hey! What are you--- :: That was all he got before John tipped him over the railing and threw him off the third tier 20 feet below. There was a quick scream and a splash. Both the Rodulan and John looked over to see Maeda sputtering and trying to swim out of the large reflecting pool that also housed a few plants and fish. The 8 foot pool had broken his fall. :: Damir: ::amused:: Good aim. Nugra: ::muttering:: I didn't know the pool was there. ~tbc~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mister John Nugra Civilian USS Doyle-A, NCC-80221-B Podcast Team Facilitator Deputy Commandant Captain's Council Magistrate Provisional Fleet JAG Officer Publicity Facilitator (Interim) V238008N10 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  11. ((Bridge, Deck 1 - USS Darwin-A)) ::Maxwell Traenor sat in the center chair of the bridge, thumbing across a PADD with idle attention. His mind wandered at times to his past, where he would have one of these data devices seemingly attached to his hand. A long career as a journeyman stellar cartographer had meant that he was used to perusing reams of scanned data and would carry one (or several) of these wherever he was - work, meals, the Promenade of whatever starbase he was stationed on, even to bed. As an older cadet at the Academy, he had carried one constantly, what with studying coming much more difficult for him than it did the youthful cadets with their still-plastic minds. Once he earned his commission and was assigned to first the Apollo, then the Darwin, his work in the Science department meant that he was able to carry on the well-honed tradition of having a PADD with him nearly everywhere he went.:: ::So now why did it feel so odd to him to be holding one now? As an executive officer, it meant that he never carried one on duty anymore. When he inhabited his office, doing any one of a myriad of administrative tasks, he used them, but they stayed on his desk when he left. Was that it? Did less than a year of change overcome a career, half a lifetime, of comfortable habit?:: ::Maxwell didn't think so. It was probably the subject matter on the PADD that involuntarily repelled him so. It was the umpteenth draft of a report for Renos when ne was returned to duty. How to tell nir superior officer, mentor, and friend of all he had done wrong by nem in the past several weeks? How does one write out in a dry report how he had nearly destroyed nir ship not once but twice? How to phrase how he had risked the lives of nir crew with death by combat, death by radiation poisoning, death by gravitic forces that could have rent the Darwin into atoms? How to express in a technical report that he had done so willingly, would do it all over again, would sacrifice his own life and all others if it meant saving nem?:: ::And that was the crux of the problem right there. Traenor had compromised his professionalism and good judgement time and again over the intervening weeks since Renos disappeared. He had made rash, drastic, poor choices, ignoring common sense and the advice of sounder minds. He had unnecessarily risked the Darwin and its crew over and again. He had lost his temper numerous times, subjected officers under his care to persecution. Basically, he had been a terrible commanding officer. "But there was success in the end. Does not the end justify the means?", a vestigial, contrarian remnant of his willful temper, kept alive by lack of sleep and emotional and physical breakdown, insisted on saying. The goal was to retrieve Renos, and Renos was retrieved. All was forgiven.:: ::Except that it wasn't. The Darwin was in rough shape. The crew was in worse shape. Renos was barely in any shape. The perpetrator who precipitated this whole ordeal, the deviant J'naii who had wormed nir way into their home and preyed on their goodwill until nir nefarious plan had come to fruition, Iy? Iy, who should have been brought before a Federation tribunal to face judgement for nir crimes? Ne was in absolutely no shape at all, unless you count accreting subatomic particles entering a nascent black hole a "shape". The return of Renos was barely a success, all contingent on how or if ne would recover. The rest? Abject failures, all due to his failure to lead effectively.:: ::Why? This was the question that Traenor kept asking himself. Why had it all gone wrong? Why had years of Starfleet training, Command training, vacated him so easily? He feared and hated the conclusion that his mind kept drifting back to. Renos. Not Renos his commanding officer, not even Renos his friend. No, the Renos he coveted intimately and not-so-secretively. Had his desire for Renos, his deep-seated fear of the loss of an intimacy that barely existed driven him half-mad and made him command in a fashion that he wouldn't have if that desire didn't exist? That was uncomfortably close to the truth, and Maxwell winced each time his thoughts drifted towards that chain of thinking, almost like a tongue probing gingerly at an abscessed tooth.:: ::There were plenty of reasons why he had avoided seeing Renos in Sickbay since ne first was retrieved. Hours-long conversations with Starfleet Command once they were in relay range took up a good chunk of time. Filling out reports and coordinating with the senior staff for departmental priorities was another. But, Maxwell would be lying if he said his conflicted feelings weren't a small part of it as well. He was ashamed that he had compromised his values and training so readily, and that if pressed he would admit to doing so again. Without the zig-zag pursuit of small slipstream jumps that had taken them weeks to follow, the return journey was so much more direct and shorter. That allowed Maxwell the justification of saying, "I'll visit nem once we get to Unity." He had even justified to nemself that the always private and composed Renos would not appreciate having visitors see nem in nir weakened and compromised state, and that it would be a disservice to visit nem and make nem uncomfortable in that fashion. It really was an amazing feat of the Human mind, how it was able to perform such mental gymnastics in order to twist the facts to fit a desired narrative.:: ::It was with all these thoughts in mind that when Traenor looked up at the whoosh of the turbolift doors to see who was reporting to the bridge, the only thing that hit the deckplates faster than his dropped PADD was his dropped jaw.:: Traenor: oO Renos?! What are you doing out of sickbay! Oo ::Not only out of sickbay, but fully bedecked in nir uniform. As if ne was returning to duty or some nonsense. Maxwell almost shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs of disbelief from his mind. He never in a million years expected to see Renos up and about this soon, let alone showing up on the bridge. Traenor jumped out of the center chair, feeling like a bandit who had been caught coveting that which was not his. He watched like a hawk as Renos gingerly crossed the bridge, and sat down in concert with Renos as ne took to the center chair for the first time in over a month. The entire time, Maxwell stared at Renos with an incredulous, questioning glare.:: Renos: So what have I missed? Traenor: ::in a quiet tone:: My first impression is to say, "The turn down the corridor that leads to your quarters for a well-deserved rest". ::with genuine concern:: No offense, Renos, but why are you here on the bridge? Renos: Well I am here… ::pause:: I am here to take us home! ::Traenor had already read the Away team's preliminary report. The report that had stated how delusional and disoriented Renos had been when they found nem, not to mention his emaciated state. He tried not to stare to overtly at Renos's physical changes, though the loss of nir luxurious long hair was a shock that Maxwell could barely comprehend. Sickened and angered anew at what Iy had subjected Renos to, he had to wonder if Renos was completely cured yet of those delusions and confusions ne had been afflicted with. Nir statement wasn't cause enough to doubt nem, but ne still seemed... off. Maxwell couldn't shake the fear that the Renos they had once knew had been compromised or changed by nir experiences.:: Renos: ::Sheepishly:: Where are we headed anyway? Traenor: We're on the final stretch of our slipstream jump back to Outpost Unity. We should be back within the hour. Renos: Excellent. Carry on then. Tell me about what you’re going to do with your shore leave when we get there. Traenor: I too have a desire to catch up with loved ones. If this experience has taught us anything, it's that life is too precious to let opportunities to speak with those close to you pass. ::Maxwell had caught Renos's glance at him when he spoke the phrase 'loved ones', the gleam in nir eye, and was shocked by the guilt and hesitation that it brought him. He had meant his family, his sister and his niece, though he could understand why Renos would think that it was a veiled reference to their complicated more-than-friendship. The look that Renos gave him had served to ratchet up a swirling confusion that was newly present in his mind, and he felt he couldn't match nir gaze easily for the rest of the short voyage back to Unity. It was almost a relief for the guilt-ridden first officer when their final approach took the attention of the bridge crew and directed it back to operational needs, and finally they were parked back in a stationary position above their home base.:: Renos: =/\= Shipwide announcement: The Darwin is now docked at Outpost Unity. We will be operating on skeleton crews for the next couple of weeks as shore leave has been granted. Go. Enjoy yourselves. You’re a wonderful, hard working crew and you’ve earned it. =/\= ::As soon as the ship was powered down and the stations locked, the rest of the bridge crew left to start their well-earned shore leave. Traenor rose at the same time as Renos, and fell in stride beside nem as they exited the bridge.:: Traenor: ::subconsciously avoiding direct eye contact:: You need your rest. A mission report and ship's progress can wait until after you've caught up on some sleep. Renos: I quite agree. There’s only one place I want to be right now and that is tucked up cozy in bed. Traenor: ::an uncertain pause, then blurting out:: We need to talk about so much. There's so much to say. I'm sure you have questions, and I do too, but now's not the time. But I need to know. Are you... you? Did they manage to... change you? ::Saying the word 'deviant' was impossible for Maxwell to do at this moment. He never really liked the word, thought it had a derogatory connotation, and considering what Renos had just gone through, thought doubly so now. The torture that Renos had gone through, simply because other J'naii wouldn't accept nem in nir natural state? It disgusted him to his core to think how narrow-minded and backwards the J'naii were.:: Renos: Gosh well… I don’t know honestly. I’ve barely had five minutes to gather my wits. Traenor: ::coughing in embarrassment at his earlier forward question:: Of course. I'm sorry. It was a thoughtless question. I've just been so worried for you. But with the tender ministrations of Drs Pond and Cook, as well as Mr Scudder, you'll be right as rain in no time. ::The cheerfulness that Maxwell affected was a little forced, but he wanted to be sure to impress upon Renos his full support and understanding, however or whatever form ne would need to recover from the devastating experience ne had been through. Their turbolift ride was short, and was nearing its stop.:: Renos: Sure. I’m just glad to be home. LtCmdr Maxwell Traenor - First Officer, USS Darwin NCC-99312-A =/\= Top Sims Contest Facilitator =/\= A239111MT0
  12. ((Bridge, Uss - Darwin)) Brell: =/\= I only have one other thing to say. This has destroyed your legacy and how we will all look at you in our minds. I can only think to ask one other thing, was there a point ever you thought of turning on your orders and begging the captain to shelter you instead? =/\= Iy: ::the J'naii looked contrite:: =/\= There is no point in lying. No, I was always steadfast in my ideals, in my mission to treat Renos. However, I never wanted nem to suffer through the process. Though ne has, it was against my wishes, and whatever regret I have is that I did not do more, sooner, to ease the pains Renos had to endure at the hands of my associate. I did learn to value the colleagues I had on the Darwin, and never wished any of you any harm either. If Renos had only been a true J'naii, there would have been no issue with the way nir career in Starfleet has progressed. Had ne willingly agreed to treatment, I might have even treated nem and released nem back to you in order to fulfill nir destiny in Starfleet as a reformed J'naii. I only hope that the essence of Renos hasn't been lost in this whole unfortunate ordeal. =/\= ::He stood there looking at the screen, again glad he could not aim a torpedo at nir ship even knowing ne was going to be ripped apart by the sheer gravimetric forces of that could either go quick or slow according to some theories.:: ::Things suddenly seemed different not right though he could not put his finger on, when he looked down and saw something his fingers did lay on. He looked about he wasn't at the ops console looking at Iy on the main viewscreen. He was sitting at the rear of the bridge looking at the smug traitor to them in a small subspace comm window on his screen. Ne had just said all that and was now laughing at him for thinking there was more to nim than J’naii brainwashing. That laughing seemed to ring all about him as if their were a dozen Iys all around him. First feeling overwhelmed by them suddenly he felt grim resolute and smirked as if he had just said something he thought was terribly funny. He tapped on those tempting buttons in front of him and launched all of the Darwin’s arsenal of torpedoes at the J’naii.:: Brell: How about now Iy? ::Laughing just as the J’naii had moments before.:: ::Just as suddenly he was now Iy on the that ship caught between two stars, the smells of charged high energy particle discharges meeting flesh hung in the air. Explosions echoed through the small ship. Remembering ne had just or Brell had just shot torpedoes at nim, ne looked down at the console. But there were none this time time just Traenor’s face saying.:: Traenor: =/\= Goodbye, Iy. =/\= ::And the rest of their faces ne had spent so much time with staring at nim, all heartbroken and betrayed until it came nothing but a blank screen. Then ne was alone. Didn’t they understand ne only was trying to help Renos be who ne was really supposed to be. That was clear as was all the justifications for doing so in nir mind.:: ::Suddenly he was himself again sitting at the ops console watching the sensor data of the the J’naii ship succumbing to it’s fate. He looked up towards the center of the bridge just as he remembered only instead of the command center stood Iy in nir recruits uniform, neither smiling or scowling as always. Suddenly Nir feet were sucked up toward the ceiling stretched as if made of seaweed noodles elongating more and more. Ne screamed and Brell could not move as if he were frozen. Ne grabbed at the ground shrieking as nir body was stretched into a stand sucked through an invisible tiny hole bit by bit.:: ((Brell’s Family Quarters, Deck 6, Uss Darwin-A)) ::He awoke in cold sweat and breathing heavily. The husky Bolain sat up and tossed off his dampened blanket, his mind racing with the dark images of the dream he just had. The events of that day were weighing on him more than he expected. As much as he was glad they were not aboard he wished he could check in on the twins right now. Their little blue faces made this whole crazy galaxy they lived in seem worth all the good that never seems to outweigh the bad.:: Brell: Computer. time? Computer: The time is 01:23 hours. ::He groaned then swung his legs over the edge of the bed and decided to just stay awake for awhile. Standing with a tired grunt he wished he had not tried to sleep at all. He walked into the twin’s empty room, looking down at the crib and toys the family kept here versus their apartment on unity. Without the two infants in it the room seemed large and empty.:: Brell: oO Will be there with them soon. Oo :: He went into the sitting room the light from the seaweed tank in the small kitchen filled the room eerie greenish blue light. Normally this reminded him of home but right now it only reminded him of how empty his quarters were. The Bolian though a long serving member of Starfleet did not like to be alone. It had been easier for him in his younger days before he had family of his own. No this simply would not do, he knew he needed to seek out some company even if it was a longshot anyone he would know was awake at this hour. After a sonic shower and change into fresh clothing he set off for Natural Selections.:: =/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\= Lt. Brell, Systems Specialist, Uss Darwin, NCC-99312-A PotW Co-Facilitator - Training Team - Graphics Team E239109B10 =/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=/\=
  13. (( Flynn's Beach House - Little Risa - Starbase 118 Commercial Sector )) Larson: How's the water? Trel'lis: Very refreshing and cool! Larson: :: Smiling. :: Sounds like I need to start being in the water then. Larson: Do we know what kind of break it is here? Trel'lis: I think Mister Fynn would know that better than any of us, to be honest. ::shrugs:: Whittaker: :: to the group :: Ahoy there! Trel'lis: Ahoy there too, Commander! :: Looking up at the sound the voice she noticed the XO standing up to his ankles in the water. :: Larson: Commander. Whittaker: :: genially :: How goes the surfing? Larson: :: Grinning. :: I think I'll take that as an order to go find out sir. :: It sounded like this was beach break out here, hopefully that meant it would be producing some nice clean faced waves to ride. She could hear some conversation continuing behind her as she started to paddle out. Based on where the waves appeared to breaking it looked like it would be only a minute or so paddling to get to the line up. It was nice to get back into the familiar rhythm of paddling out, on her holodeck program she had set up similar to how the events she had competed in were set up where surfer would get a tow out to the line up rather than having to paddle out. While the tow out was nice and did allow for more time spent riding waves paddling always gave her a chance to let the adrenaline rush from the previous wave fade a little bit or in this case enjoy the anticipation of the first wave of the day. When she was about half way out some waves started to roll through threatening to push her back to the beach and undo all her paddling. Grabbing hold of the sides of her board just in front of her she pushed the nose of the board underwater, straightening her arms she leaned forward helping push more of her board underwater. Keeping her right knee on the back of the board to help push it down farther. Taking a deep breath she ducked under the surface as the wall of white water approached, leaving only a small patch of bubbles where she had been. Time always seemed to slow down under a wave and today was no exception. All she could see was was some light filtering through the water interspersed with clouds of bubbles, and her ears were filled with the muted crashing roar of a wave breaking directly over her. As the wave rolled through she pushed down on the back of her board to go from nose down to nose up. As soon as the nose was pointed up it offered no resistance as it eagerly overcame it forced submersion. As her head broke the surface on the other side of the wave she released her grip on the board and resumed the steady rhythm of paddling. As another wave approached she went through the same motions, it was the same way every time exactly like her parents had taught her, all those years ago, as the thought went through her head. She could even hear her Dad's voice from back when he had initially taught her to duck dive. Nose down. Take a breath. Hold it, don't forget to hold it. You are now under the water. You are still holding it right? Keep the board steady. Wait for the wave to pass. Kick through bring the nose up. After a short while of paddling she made it out to the line up, the point just past where the swells would break into surf-able waves. As she floated up and down in the swells she slicked her wet hair back out of her face. Looking towards the shore she could see some of the others paddling out as well, and could hear some of the sounds coming from those still on the beach. The first few swells that passed by were all close outs, they broke all at once into un-rideable white water, luckily it looked there was a bigger set on the way. It also seemed as though an offshore breeze was picking up which would hopefully help the waves form cleaner faces and possibly even lead to some barreling. :: Larson: Looks like we've got some good waves coming. Greyson/Anyone else who paddled out: ? :: Letting the first wave of the set pass underneath her she began paddling hard towards the shore attempting to get up to the same speed in time for the second wave to break. It looked like it was going to develop into a big bomb. Reaching the apex of the wave she gathered her legs beneath her and went from lying on the board to standing in one fluid motion. For one brief period of time she felt weightless as her board dropped into the same plane as the face of the wave. She could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins as time slowed to a crawl. Looking up she could see the rest of the beach goers moving about on the beach or in the water, then suddenly all of that stopped existing as time started to catch up to her. It always seemed to speed up a little between first dropping in on a wave to getting to the pocket of the wave, the point between the clean surface of the wave and the white water. With the roar of the wave filling her ears and the wind in her face she began picking up speed leaving the pocket. Leaning into the wave once she she reached down with her left hand and grabbed the outside rail (side) of her board. Quickly she she pushed her right foot down on the back of the board and brought the nose around with her left foot. Now quickly climbing up the face of the wave she had to tell herself not to turn to soon. Wait for it. Wait for it. NOW! Quickly bringing the nose of the board left with her feet she twisted her torso with her arms outstretched to help quickly snap the board around. Her long blonde hair whipping around in protest at the sudden direction change. She had hit the top of the wave almost perfectly just under the lip sending a large spray of water up and over the back of the wave. The fins of her surfboard left the water letting her board slip sideways on the top of the wave for just a moment before they re-entered and grabbed straightening her back out. Gaining speed down the wave face she turned right, straight back into the pocket. The section of wave in front of her was starting to collapse, turning she climbed back up the face of the wave. Rather than making a big carving turn and throwing water everywhere she just climbed and floated up and over the collapsing section on the peak of the wave, she dropped about three feet in the air back into the new pocket as the section fully closed out underneath her. Making another carving turn to the right and coming up just under the peak of the wave she snapped her board around again with the help if out stretched arms but generating much less spray with out a lip to the wave this time. She made a few whimsical turns on the face of the wave before bringing it back to the pocket. It seemed as though the offshore breeze had picked up as the lip was starting to curl around more and more. pumping the front of her board up and down with her left foot she picked up speed as the wall of water began to curl around her. It was as if someone had flipped a switch she was suddenly surrounded by water on all sides. Turning to be more parallel with the wave face she raced towards the opening at the far end. The crescendo of the water feeling as though it was coming from within rather, or maybe that was her un-suppressible shriek of joy. This, this was what she lived for, the ultimate in adrenaline rushes. Racing down a tube of water on a small board, whoever had first thought doing this was a good idea must have been thought insane, but they were the good kind of insane the same sort of insane Alana herself was. All around her was a wonderful blue turquoise color wonderfully patterned by the rays of light from the stations artificial sun replacement. Sticking out her arm she let her fingers drag through the surface of the wave. She could feel a light spray coming off of the wave all around her, but it was the sensation of speed the captivated her. The speed of the water moving around her, the speed at which the wave was moving her towards the beach, and the speed at which she was flying down the barrel of the wave. Not that she was thinking of that at the moment, no she would think about all the velocities of everything when she was back in the science offices or labs, for now it was about experiencing it. The wave was beginning to spit spray from behind her down the tube as it started to close out on her. As she came out the end of the tube the rest of the wave collapsed behind her, she had been hoping that the face would open up again and she could squeeze in another turn before she hit the beach. As it was the beach was significantly closet than it had been the last time she saw it, close enough that there wouldn’t have been time for another turn. She had to kick out now or risk running aground in an area she didn’t know if it was just sandy it wasn’t usually a problem but if there was a reef or rocks under the water it could easily damage her or her board. Of the two she was more worried about her board, and her medical record showed it, she had helped build it back home in Hawaii, and it never seemed to quite the same after any repair to it. As the white water consumed the rest of the face it was looking like she wouldn’t be able to just kick out over the back of the wave as she normally preferred, instead she would have step, or jump, off her board. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy exiting a wave this way but it was a lot quicker trip back to the lineup going over the top, and the whole more chance of hurting her self or damaging her board. Taking a quick breath she stepped off her board to the left and quickly felt the familiar feeling of the water arresting her momentum followed by a short sharp tug on her right ankle as the leash prevented the board from floating in to anyone. Apparently back when leashes had first been introduced a lot of people had been resistant to them Alana had never quite fully understood why the skegs (fins) acted a lot like a set of knives sticking out from the bottom of the board. Even with leashes there was still the potential to get run over by a stray board, even your own board could get you in a wipe out she had seen it all too many times. It had never stopped any of her friends from surfing nor had the possibility of it ever made her hesitate at the chance to get out in the water and rip up a wave. As soon as she had stepped off the board her world became chaos filled with bubbles and the disturbed sand from the bottom. It was shallower than she had thought it would be and quickly bounced off the bottom, a little harder than she would have liked. Reaching out with her hands she found the cord connecting her to her surfboard and followed it back up to the surface. Her pull on the cord causing the back end to dip into the water and stand the board up on a forty five degree angle. Taking a breath as she surfaced she saw that she wasn't from the group where she had started out she paddled over. Drifting to a stop as she came up to the group she sat back on her board. The only thing that could have made that ride better was the iconic music for the opening heat of the day at Bells Beach blaring out over the water. A big smile started to form on her face. :: Larson: :: The smile had reached her eyes by now. She looked towards the XO. :: I'd say the surfing is excellent sir. Are you planning on getting your feet wet out there? :: Looking at him up to his ankles in water already. :: Or rather the rest of you? Whittaker: ? Larson: How about the rest of you? Trel'lis/Halzar/Flynn/Greyson/Falcon: ? :: It looked as though the others who had paddled out with her had caught waves as well. It wasn't long before the ended up around about where she had surfaced not long ago. She waved towards them. :: Larson: Sounds good, I'm going to head back out enjoy. :: With that she turned and began the long paddle back out. It was about a two minute paddle out for what had been about a sixteen second ride. Well it had lasted for only sixteen seconds according to a clock but as with every good wave she had rode, time slowed to a fraction of it's normal self while riding it. :: Larson: :: Meeting up with Greyson on the paddle out. The smile was still plastered to her face, it had been a really good ride, even if it hadn't been surfing had almost always brought a hard to get rid of smile to her face. :: Nice wave man, you really shredded it out there. Ensign Alana Larson Science Officer StarBase 118 Ops C238805DG0
  14. ((Medical Offices - Starbase 118)) ::Damien Bagwell the third, or "Big D" as he liked to call himself, was busy preparing for his next shift in Sickbay. A rather sweet gig, he thought personally. Lots of attractive females in distress, totally needing a tanned, toned dose of comforting in their time of need. And he, was often on hand to offer such a service. The only downside, was the unfairly attractive new CMO, she was a sweet looking redhead with a fiery temper to match. She just didn't "get" him. Something about "integrity of the position" or some medical babble like that. To be fair, the last time she called him into her office, he had been starring a little lower than her eyes while she talked. That Betazoid could get heated, and animated when angry. If it wasn't at his expense, he'd be able to enjoy it to the fullest. ::Getting back to his meticulous prep work for his look, he slapped another glob of maximum hold gel as he crafted his hair in the oh so perfect "What? Oh no, I totally woke up like this..." style. Finally finished with his 'do, he reached for his most cherished of all his grooming products: Axe Men's Daily Fragrance. He had it on good authority that this vintage, highly sought after product had been "the" thing of 21st century Earth males. He guarded his private stash closely. This stuff didn't come cheap, and he paid a fortune for it. At least, he had a fortune. Or, his father did. In order to get the old man off his back, and keep himself in the will, he became an Enlisted Crewman 3rd class, assigned to Sickbay. Finally ready, he gave himself a once over in his bathroom mirror before donning a completely unnecessary pair of mirror shades and headed out to report for his shift.:: ((Main Sickbay - Starbase 118)) ::"Big D" had just arrived, giving a few fingers guns towards a group of his favorite nurses, when suddenly, there was an ear piercing alarm blaring. Freezing in place, Damien swore they were amidst an attack from hostile forces as a swarm of mechanical drones buzzed around him, red warning lights swirling. He barely had time to throw his hands up in front of his face before he was sprayed down with a thick orange, foamy antiseptic smelling liquid, covering him head to toe like a radioactive melted marshmallow. Within moments, the swarming mass of drones abated, the sirens silenced and the warning lights dulled. Stunned, he stood shivering in a daze, looking around, there was a collection of doctors with expressions of smug approval. Suddenly, he locked eyes with one particular doctor, her face a mask of pure fury. He always though she was hot, but the look she was giving him was more thermonuclear. Her arms were crossed and her stance was rigid. But how could she honestly blame this on him? He just walked in the door. Not HIS fault. She had to see that...didn't she...?:: Ezo: ::narrowed eyes:: Private Bagwell...::tossing him a towel:: Clean yourself up and report immediately to my office. ::pointing sternly:: Immediately. ::With a final glare, Mirra Ezo made her away from the main entrance of Sickbay, and Private Bagwell, who was completely coated in anti-contaminant foam. She made it into her office and wagered she had a solid five minutes while Damien scrubbed the last of the foam off himself, and getting a new uniform before she would have to speak with him. While attending the Shore Leave beach party, there had been a rather unfortunate incident as was reported her by Dr. Jos first thing that morning. Thankfully, Orderly Lassinam'lal would make a full recovery, but, this was the fourth infraction of one Enlisted Crewman Third Class Damien Bagwell. She'd had more than enough. It was time for some serious payback. With the help of a very enthusiastic mechanical specialist in the Environmental Containment unit, her plan had formed. The look on Damien's face was enough to make her want to order the biggest "Thank You" cookie basket she could replicate for the entire department. Her musings were cut short by a timid knock on her door.:: Ezo: Enter, Private. ::Walking into her office, Damien appeared like a poor, muscly, drowned rat. Apparently his "maximum hold" gel couldn't stand up to a decon shower. oO What a waste of a good hair day...Oo D.Bagwell: You...uh...::clearing his throat:: Wanted to see me..? Ma'am? Ezo: ::nodding slowly:: Please, have a seat. ::He quickly slunk into the offered seat, a pink fluffy bath towel wrapped around his shoulder like a security blanket:: D.Bagwell: ::stammering:: I had nothing to do with those drone things, I swear doc, you gotta believe me, I just walked in...and...woosh! ::His hasty explanation was suddenly silence as he focused on her icy glare. For once, his vision was glued to her face and zero intention of straying...:: Ezo: That, is where you are very much mistaken. The "drones", were mobile contaminant containment units. You see, despite myfrequent instruction, you have repeatedly reported to your shift doused in...whatever it is...and this time it had caused Orderly Lassinam'lal to have a violent allergic reaction. Therefore, from this moment forward, the contents of that...odor, have officially been classified as a "class three" respiratory irritant. On top of this most recent incident, you have shown a lack of respect of the post of which you have been tasked. Using my Sickbay as your own personal dating service. This is unacceptable, to say the least. ::Squirming in his seat, Damien was pretty sure this was the worst "talk" he'd ever had. Even worse than the one he received from his father when he crashed his hover-boat to impress some sunbathing co-eds.:: Ezo: ::leaning back in her seat:: Now, what I think, is you just don't understand the significance of what we do here. So, as of today, your intake privileges have been revoked. For the next three shifts, you are going to be assigned to hazardous waste removal. Once completed, you will be spending time in our pediatric burn unit, reading to the patients, tea parties, dress up, whatever their little hearts desire. I will, of course, be speaking directly to your shift supervisors, and until I am satisfied that you have garnered an appreciation to what this facility stands for, you can consider yourself on strict probation pending termination. ::leaning forward, her voice lowering:: And this goes without saying...but if you walk into my Sickbay wearing that offensive odor ever again...what happened today will be considered a "light shower"...am I clear? D.Bagwell: ::audibly gulping:: Ye-yes ma'am. Very clear. ::nodding furiously:: Loud and clear. Ezo: ::leaning back, crossing her arms over her chest:: I am pleased to hear that. You're dismissed Private. ::Damien quickly scrambled out of the chair, he turned stiffly, bowing repeatedly in an awkward show of respect, but instead nearly tripping over every piece of office furniture between her desk and the door. Once out of her office, and the door firmly shut, Mirra burst into hysterical laughter.:: ------------------------------------------- Lieutenant Mirra Ezo, MDChief Medical Officer Starbase 118 OpsC239205ME0
  15. ((WestPoint, Betazed)) ::Kalos stepped on to the pad and seconds later he materialized at the WestPoint. A large complex build by and for the wealthy of the nation. There were a few skyscrapers with state of the art apartments and for those with even more money there were large villa’s located at edge of the river. At least one of those belonged to his parents. He made his way to the river, crossed a small bridge and then found himself in front of a large steel gate. The gate was closed and a security guard wearing a company uniform stood guard. :: Guard: Evening sir. How may I help you? Kalos: Is this still the Fiorr residence? Guard: Yes… but unless I haven’t been informed Mr. and Mrs Fiorr don’t have an appointment with anyone tonight. So…. Kalos: They aren’t expecting me… but could you tell them their son would like to see them… Guard: Their son? ::The man sighed, Kalos feared if that was because he had instructions to tell him they didn’t want to see him but it turned out to be something different:: Guard: Why don’t you do me a favor and take those stories elsewhere… You know how many people come by here every week telling me they are family and want money? Kalos: Really? People on Betazed do that? Guard: You have no idea Mr… Kalos: Fiorr… Kalos Fiorr… He looked the man in the eye and grabbed his ID from his jacket, and handed it over:: oO Great start… didn’t even think I’d need this… Oo Guard: Hmm… well looks like you put a lot of hours into this, this one is the best looking ID I have seen so far… ::the man took another look at the card, then looked at Fiorr again and finally turned his attention back to the card. :: Guard: I hate to admit it, but you do look like the old man… Kalos: I do? ::Kalos never compared himself to his father, and although he had a few pictures of him he never saw any similarities, especially not in his jaw-line:: oO I guess I should check that out with Georgio when I get back… Oo Guard: Wait here… ::The Guard took a few steps back, walked to a small column next to the gate and Kalos could tell he was talking to someone but it wasn’t loud enough to listen in. :: (( 5 minute time skip)) :: The longer the talk endured the more worried Kalos became. If the guard was talking to his father he should have come out by now or told him to leave. Kalos was pacing left to right and back while waiting for the outcome when he suddenly heard a woman:: Jovala: Oh my… it really IS you isn’t it…. ::The voice came from the fence, and as he looked through the metal bars he spotted a woman he hadn’t seen for a long time. It took him a moment to realize he was looking at his “little” sister that wasn’t so little anymore. She was a full grown woman. The colorful summer dresses Kalos remembered had been replaced with a pantsuit and the long ponytail was now transformed into long dark curling hair:: Kalos: Joval… is that you? ::She nodded at the guard who opened the gate and then she walked towards him:: Joval: Ofcourse it is, what did you expect? Kalos: I had so many scenarios running through my mind I wasn’t sure WHAT do think… Joval: I can image that… When Jona called in we thought you were another lost son looking for money, but when he mentioned your first time I was intrigued. Father told me I would be disappointed but… here you are. Kalos: Yes… Here I am… 25 years late… ::Kalos wasn’t sure what do to. Take an extra step forward and hug his sister or keep some distance. He still didn’t know they really wanted to see him even though the mentioning of being disappointed if he wasn’t family seemed to be in his favor:: Joval: … But nog less welcome, you might have been out of sight but we still talk about you at least once a week. Wondering what you were doing but none of us had the guts to check in. Afraid you might have gone rogue and ended in drug syndicate or worse… oO Well looks like they had high hopes for me after I left… Oo ::Feeling sorry for himself was Kalos strong suit but he decided to ignore those feelings. He couldn’t blame them for assuming something bad happened, he was the one that broke contact after all. :: Kalos: I did climb up in the ranks of an organization… ::He took off his jacket and proudly showed his sister the uniform he’d grown so fond off. She stared at it for at least half a minute before she replied:: Joval: Starfleet?! You! ::she started to laugh out loud, slapping her knee:: You actually made it into Starfleet! I had no idea you took fathers advise! And frankly I don’t think anyone did, well father wanted to believe you could turn around but … well never mind. ::she tried to stop laughing:: You did what none of of us thought was possible and you seem to be doing it well ::she pointed at the pins on his uniform:: So, you are a chief engineer now? Kalos: Nope… Joval: No? But that color says you are… at least.. I doubt you made it to security or tactical. You couldn’t beat me in a fight when we were young so you taking out Klingons or Jem Hadar seems unlikely. ::While Kalos shook his head Joval paused the inquiry for a moment:: that is YOUR uniform right?! Kalos: Ops… Joval: What? Kalos: Ops… I am the Chief of Operation on a Federation Starship. Joval: Ops? What’s that? Being the boss of nothing? Kalos: I am a sort of liaison between science and engineering on the bridge and serve a second officer… Joval: You’re joking? Kalos: You of all people should know I don’t have a sense of humor… that never changed. Joval: Well then… Mr. second officer. Let’s show mom and dad its really you. They will be surprised to see you… Kalos: you sure they won’t mind? Joval: Mind!? You are family Kalos! ::She grabbed his hand and then give him a hug. He tried to hug her back but then she was already letting go dragging him towards the mansion behind the new opened gatehouse:: oO This is it… Oo TBC =============================== With great pleasure written as: Lt.Cmdr. Kalos Fiorr OPS officer / second officer USS Constitution-B http://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php/Kalos_Fiorr As simmed by: Lt. Cmdr. Alexander Williams Chief Tactical Officer USS Constitution-B News Team member Writer ID:A239006AW0 http://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php/Alexander_Williams
  16. ((Sickbay, Deck 10, USS Darwin-A)) ::An unexpected visit from Lieutenant Logan querying a serum to be used on the Captain in an aid to help move nem as it would seem a boarding party could arise in an attempt to recover the Captain from nir captives. After what could have been a heated debate between Kurt and Isabel about evacuating a patient safely, both doctors were on par about their decision to say no to the drug. Doctors Cook and Pond now stood over the body of the late Janel Tarna. The interruption had for a second clouded the thoughts of the pair.:: Pond: So, where were we? Cook: You had just asked how was we going to proceed with this autopsy. Pond: Ah yes. Well, if you want to do it manually, you are the boss. ::An Autopsy is a lengthy procedure especially if it’s due to an untimely death. Graeme could opt out and use everything the computers but everything he had learned and the bodies he dissected during his spell of time on Turisian. During his time at medical school every surgical procedure he had partaken in was with a real live body requiring a specific type of surgery. His Chief Head Professor always said ‘You can use the holodeck but it cheats! One nick in the wrong place and you can pause the programme and carry on. However if you nick an artery then you have the pressure of fixing it as that life is in your hands’. Ok so this body was no longer alive, however as this was an investigation every attempt will be used to learn the reason Janel passed away.:: Cook: I have my reasons for doing it manually I feel Janel would want it this way as I’d prefer the same. When I go I want my body to be dissected for science! ::Laughing:: I suggest we take a few hours break as this is going to be a lengthy procedure. ::When called to the conference room for a briefing Graeme had just finished his shift and was just settling to have a rest. He was able to proceed with the autopsy, however ‘a rested body is a rested mind’. He wanted to be One hundred percent before the jump in.:: Pond: Alright. But we should at least get somebody to bring the body to a cooled room. Then the theater would also be empty again for emergencies. Cook: We can just leave the body here and set the temperature to keep it fresh… ::Graeme didn’t like the way he compared Janel to a piece of meat that had to be kept fresh.:: Cook: I will lock this door as if an emergency arises then we have other operating suites this takes priority and i'm not having him moved from pillar to post. I’m sure the staff can cope with all the minor injuries. ::Graeme set the wall control panel to three degrees this was an ample temperature to keep the body chilled for the next few hours. He opened the door and held it open for Isabel to go through first. Turning back to the control panel. He had set it so only himself or Miss Pond Could access the room. As they both began the walk to the turbolift.:: Pond: I heard you have payed my patient a visit? How did it go? ::This was a discussion Graeme had been looking forward to. He noticed she asked in a nice way about his visit, It wasn’t his intention to encroach on another doctor's ‘turf’ you could say. Isabel had done so much whilst Graeme was on Unity, his visit was to offer more his expertise to Nicu Icavoc rather than make sure she had done the procedures right or wrong. Graeme had a huge amount of faith in her abilities and was rather impressed with her surgery skills.:: Cook: How did it go? Well... it went well. ::He wanted to explain how he had walked into Icavoc’s quarters, tripped over something on the floor due to being dazzled by the bright light’s then to top off his sheer luck Nicu stood there in his birthday suit where Graeme was definitely blinded. Should he mention how he tripped up on his own answers. He made a mental note to himself - Dokkaran species are hard work.:: Cook: I had a good chat with him, As he is your patient I didn’t want to encroach. Do you have any plans? Pond: I am already planning the rehabilitation once the threat here is over. I am thinking of some sort of carbon dioxide therapy, that should increase the growth of new plant tissue. What do you think? Cook: Re-routing our carbon dioxide to his room could give him more of a boost to help the growth issue… well thought. I Thought about cell splicing and attempting to grow an arm and doing a transplant but it all depends on his growth recovery time as it seems it will take a long time! Pond: Well, I am surely calling him in after the mission, to see what we can do. Okay, see you later. Cook: Rest easy we have a lot of work ahead. ((Timeskip to Attack phase Logan)) ((Sickbay, Deck 10, USS Darwin-A)) Cook: Ok gather round people… In minutes we will be intercepting the Ship that has the abducted Captain on board. So no doubt the Darwin will be engaged in a firefight... regardless of our personal thoughts and fears we are medical staff and professionals. You all know your positions and jobs! I expect you to work to the best of your abilities regardless and remember to triage the patient first... if a plaster and a kick up the backside works do it! If it requires major surgery Myself or Miss Pond here are on hand. However we have something to do in Surgery room One So with so If you require us we will be there. Now let’s keep this crew fit and able to do their duties. Lets get to work people! Everything should be ready make your final preparations and stand by your posts... ::Just as he finished his speech the room shuddered where the ship had taken a collision from something maybe a weapon or she had rammed another ship. This was enough for an adrenaline rush… they waited for unknown. Until word was passed they were in the dark except from the mission briefing they will only find out what is going on from the crews injuries.:: Valdivia: =/\= Valdivia to sickbay. We are receiving heavy gamma radiation and our shields are down. Please set radiation poisoning protocols. =/\= ::The Radioactive Protocol was a red alert even though the ship was in a red alert state this added to the intensity. Once activated all crews were warned of possible radiation leaks to all decks. The Sickbay staff prepared hyposprays with hyronalin which combated radiation poisoning.:: Cook: Computer activate Radioactive Protocols - Delta - Alpha - 1 - 3…. Computer: Activating Radioactive Protocol - Delta - Alpha - 1 - 3… Standing by Pond: =/\= Understood. Sickbay is setting radiation protocols. =/\= ::Another part of the protocol was something that Doctor Tarna had created, when a deck or area of the ship had been affected by gamma radiation the computer would pump a mixture of hyronalin and lectrazine through the ship’s ventilation It wouldn’t stop the radiation however it would help protect the crew enough to seek medical support. He looked at Pond as his thoughts were her thoughts. Instantly she replied ready and waiting.:: Valdivia: =/\= And... send someone here. I think I dislocated the knee. =/\= ::This was hard for Graeme he wanted to aid John but as the CMO he would have to stay in sickbay. He nodded with a smile to Isabel to go and aid the Chief Science Officer.:: Pond: =/\= Don’t move the limb, I will be there as fast as possible =/\= Cook: Isabel… ::He watched her grab a medkit and a few other things as his voice caught up with her she had already reached the door. Graeme knew with the shields down they were vulnerable and where Mr Valdivia was situated anything could happen.:: Cook: Please be careful! ::The first wave of cuts and head injuries entered the sickbay. He quickly helped by deterring if his staff could manage. They could. He had a catch up with a late friend. This was priority unless a major incident required his attention. He moved over to the door of surgical sweet one and entered his details. The door opened. Graeme walked in and the cold dry air sapped at his lungs, as he breathed out the a warm vapor turned into a mist then disappeared. He had set the temperature to Three degrees as a humanoid body decays at warmer temperatures but to keep it fresh as to say it’s recommended to be between Two and Four degrees. If you want to keep the body on ice then it would be stored in temperatures below zero.:: ::This was the first time he had been alone with Janel since he was alive, It was a strange feeling knowing who was lying there. Luckily Graeme wasn’t a teenager and this wasn’t his grandfather. This was a family member of a different kind. He rubbed his hands together and blew into the with his warm breath and rubbed the heat around his hands, as he lifted the cold metallic zip. He took a deep breath as he unzipped the body bag.:: ::There lay the young Doctor Janel Tarna, his arms were on top of one another across the top part of his stomach it made him look like a sleeping vampire, lifeless motionless and pale. Graeme began to put a pair of disposable gloves on. He didn’t want to cross contaminate anything from his hands to anything that could indicate his death. He opened the body bag fully to reveal Janel’s full body. He was wrapped in some strange bandages almost like an Egyptian mummy.:: Cook: Hello Janel… We meet again… Pity it’s this way... One… Two arms… One… Two legs Ok so far so good ::He glimpsed at the bandages across Janels Chest they were three faint crimson stained circles. Graeme let out a sigh as his breath misted out in front of him. He began to have a bad feeling about Janels death. He wanted to check every inch of the body and decided to check the feet up those three crimson stains on his chest might not be the only marks.:: Cook: Computer… ::Computer chirps.:: Start to record my autopsy report. Computer: Recording… Cook: Autopsy report on Lieutenant Janel Tarna by Chief Medical Officer Lieutenant Graeme Cook… On visual inspection of the body no limbs were missing, two arms, two legs… Strangely the body has been wrapped up in what seems to be linen bandages as if he was part of an old Egyptian burial... ::Moving to Janal’s feet.:: I count… Two Four Five Eight Ten… Ten toes and no marks on his feet apart from bad corns and athlete's foot. ::Laughing to himself.:: I could have gave you something for that as well… ::Graeme picked up a pair of surgical scissors and began to remove the dressings from his legs. As he did so a slight smell caught his attention.:: Cook: I am now cutting the bandages from his legs to check for any bruising or any marks.On my visual i see no bruising that shows no restraints were used against him… What's that smell… reminds me of cinnamon… ::Picking up a piece of linen and sniffing it.:: It is definitely cinnamon… but there is something else what’s that smell? ::Looking at Janal.:: Come on buddy what aren't you telling me? ::Next Graeme removed the the bandages from his abdomen and began to check for any damage and also any sexually transmitted infections. He had taken swabs and scanned them into the computer. As he awaited the results he began to count the fingers.:: Cook: The left hand is placed on top of his right… attempting to remove the hands… ::Rigor Mortis had set in but Graeme, with a struggle managed to remove the first hand and lay it by Janels side. ::He inspected the left hand it was covered in dry blood but there was no cuts present and his fingernails were clean. As he swabbed the dry blood Graeme then placed it into the biobed scanner and began to test the blood. Within seconds it came back with a match of Janel’s blood type. Graeme’s fear came to reality as it would seem he had died of his wounds Looking above the right hand at the three blood stains.:: Cook: Aye aye?? What do we have here… ::Janel’s right hand was holding something. Graeme managed to fish it out without opening his hand, which shows he wasn’t holding it as he died, rather it was placed in his hands after. What was it. With a set of forceps he fished out the dark item and picked it up with them and held it to the light it would seem to be a burgundy gem.:: Cook: In my hand I looking at a dusty looking burgundy gem it seems to be covered in prints, I am placing it into a kidney bowl this will be analysed later for DNA and fingerprints. Both hands seem to show no struggle no flesh under the fingernails, there is no bruising of an attempt to claw or dig or even to fight back… ::With the abdomen and head left to check. This is where he will need to operate opening up the chest and stomach testing how he had died, Now usually Graeme would open up the skull and remove the brain and dissect it for any trauma damage but he will use the biobed scanner for that. Moving to Janel’s head he picked up an auto refractor he opened the eyelids and shined a light to see a reaction from the pupils. Nothing. Closing the eyelid he noticed the faint scar that the dermal regenerator didn't completely heal, this was from his brain surgery he had when he had received injuries when he was taken prisoner around the date 239207.21. Graeme began to scan the top of the head for brain patterns also for a picture of any internal damage. He inspected behind his ears for bruising and dirt there was lots of dust an almost rustic kind of colour. Was this soil he had lay on? Had he been on a planet? Taking a swab and placing it in a vial this was probably one for the science department to scan and check on. Forcing the jaw open he looked inside the tongue was in it’s place nothing had blocked his throat so he didn’t choke to death. No bruising around the neck made Graeme glad as he wasn’t strangled to death. The Bed beeped as the scans reported no trauma to the head the only damage was to the frontal lobe as previously damaged during his capture. Last brain wave activity show he was alive as he received the wounds but did nothing to retaliate. It beeped again as it came back with negative results showing no STI’s.:: Cook: So far so good there was no Sexual Transmited Infections on his genaltalia or rectum. His head and brain scans show no trauma or any internal bleeds to the brain, the only damage was the frontal lobe during surgery from previous operations. He never swallowed his tongue nor was he choking on anything. Also there is no marks around his neck. I have taken a swab of a earthy substance from behind his ears maybe it’s from a planet where he had lay? Now I am away to inspect the chest. ::Graeme Cut the bandages down the center and slowly peeled them back. His fears had worsened three stab wounds were staring straight at him the thing that caught his eye was the three bruises above the stab wounds. They were in the shape of a fist, clear as day against the paleness of his body the shape of the black bruises were in the shape of fists. Graeme clenched his right hand and placed it over the bruises his hand was clearly bigger.:: Cook: I have removed the linen that covered Janel’s chest on doing so there are three stab marks but above them is dark bruises in the clear shape of a fist. In size comparison the marks are smaller than my clenched fist. Was this a type of weapon or someone with small fists and a weapon? ::Graeme picked up a scalpel there are two ways he could open the chest cavity make an incision in the shape of a U or the Y shape where the stab marks were situated he decided to with the U shape. As he cut from the left collar bone down to his hip bone and followed the curve to just above his pubic bone he then followed the curve back to the other hip bone and straight up to the right collar bone he began to peel the layer of flesh to check the vital organs. Before he would be able to check the lungs an heart he would have to cut open the rib cage, he did so with medical saw. No damage to any of Janel’s intestines. His bladder was full which surprised Graeme as the situation happened he would almost have relieved himself. Feeling his stomach it still had remains of the last meal partially undigested there was no discolouring to the kidneys or the liver in fact they were pretty healthy. Scanning them showed no trace of any toxins or any foreign substances in his system. So poisoning can be ruled out. The Trill anatomy was almost identical to a human except a gap in the mid pancreas where a symbiont would sit. Unfortunately Janel was unjoined. His lungs were healthy except as lifted them they began to leak blood he saw the stab wounds on in each and they pierced right through the lungs the blood had collected at the bottom of the lungs. Looking puzzled as there was three stab wounds he inspected the lungs closer he could only find two neatly cut incisions. The last piece he had to check was the heart and there it was the last stab wound. This would have probably been the fatal blow.:: Cook: ::With a lump in his throat.:: I have checked the intestines, liver, kidneys and stomach each one perfectly healthy including a full bladder tests show no toxins of foreign substances in his system. However on inspection on both lungs there is a stab wound on each. The third wound has pierced his heart I feel this was the cause of his death. ::Graeme replaced the ribcage and closed the U shaped flesh back so it sat normal. His emotions were gone he was shocked on how his fellow doctor had received his untimely death. What was next he would compel his notes and pass them onto Doctor Pond and get a second opinion on anything he might have missed. He will send a less graphic copy to acting Captain Traenor and update him with any new discoveries.Then once everything is finalised they will prepare the body for a proper send off. Graeme removed his disposable gloves and washed his sweaty hands, he placed a hand on Janels cheek and leaned in and kissed his forehead.:: Cook: Rest easy brother.... Lieutenant Cook - Chief Medical Officer - USS Darwin NCC-99312-A =/\= The (Image) Collective =/\= D239206GC0
  17. ((Conference Room 2, Deck 2 - USS Darwin-A)) ::Watching the Senior Staff head out of the Conference room, Kurt rose slowly to his feet he needed to speak with several department heads to request some equipment from them just in case…:: Logan oO Any action on an enemy controlled site has so many ‘ifs’ and conditions that can cause things to turn against you so quickly there’s no way to think of them all let alone be equipped for them. We just have to try and find the most adaptable equipment that covers the majority of problems and then …….. work hard and hope Oo ::Moving round the table Kurt’s overwhelming impression of their First Officer was one of tiredness, their life was filled with the general running of the ship. Meeting after meeting, report after report everything that happened on board ship first went to them, the Captain only saw the reports after they had been signed off and any problems solved. Only if they were to large or were ‘above the paygrade’ did the Captain get involved, which for the Darwin meant that ever since the Numiri attack and the Captain went missing her First Officer, also now her Acting Captain, had to deal with both sides of the table:: Logan oO Send the reports to me now …. get that sorted and send it back to me…. Excellent you’ve fixed that now I’ll sign it off and send it to me so I can verify it Oo ::If the situation wasn’t so dire it would be worth laughing over it with a nice drink, and good company, but the situation was a major problem, they had no Captain …. Not yet but they would do again soon….. he hoped. Approaching Commander Traenor Kurt ran his hand through his hair:: Logan: Excuse me Sir, do you have a moment Traenor: Yes, of course, Lieutenant. Logan: There’s a few things I want to run by you, some things that…… ::Staring out the windows that comprised the back wall of the Conference room, which at the speed they were traveling didn’t show the darkness of space and pinpoint lights of stars but the streaking lines of starlight as the Starship shot through space at faster than light speeds, then back to the Commander:: I don’t know if I’ve looked at this too long and am making things fit or their actual formed ideas that …… ::His sentence trailed of as Kurt couldn’t find the words to finish it:: Traenor: I'm all ears, Mr Logan. What's on your mind? Logan: I’ve looked at all the information every day, trying ……. trying to fathom any facts that lead anywhere, anything to give an insight….. Traenor: ::ruefully:: You and me both... Logan: I don’t know if there facts or suppositions or outright fantasy …. Traenor: ::with a smile, leaning back:: Spit it out, Kurt. ::kindly:: I do want to hear what you think. ::Seeing The Commander nod, sit back down in the chair and lean back cupping his hands together in his lap Kurt had no choice but to finish what he had just started, the Commanders posture immediately brought back their last meeting when he failed to convince the First Officer of the saboteur, as they now knew, on the Outpost. Who was right or wrong was of no consequence Kurt’s arguments, and most importantly proof, were too weak to convince anyone else to support his hunch’s:: Logan oO Am I as far out as last time, or so far out I’ve dropped of the universe Oo Logan:: Nodding Kurt took a deep breath and a sip of the iced water before calling up the sensor information gathered from Unity Outpost:: Firstly the ship…. Unknown configuration … but why ?, answer no one’s seen it before. But then why here ? in the delta quadrant any ship is unknown …. So the answer is .. unknown to us. But then why do we matter ? so we don’t know who to blame, keep everyone guessing, buys time, and delays the federations response.. until it’s too late Traenor: ::following Logan's logic:: I concur. Using a mystery ship is a good way to keep us off our game. Logan: The ship is designed as a covert warship all its sensor reflections, warp baffles, QSD and armour what else could it be …. At first I thought Raikenoff. But it doesn’t match him after the Captains beaten him twice, he’d want to show how he’s better both his ship and him as captain, something like this no not his style. There’s the J’naii to consider as the ships path is heading that way, most people put bits of tech on different ships before putting them on one vessel, the federation has done is with the warp baffles and armour etc… the J’naii there’s no vessel in the computer that matches anything about this ship … so did they build it or … there’s another possibility, according to Headquarters the only people building completely different shaped vessels each time is the Consortium. And then the QSD, few races have developed one independently… but then one of ours was stolen by Raikenhoff who worked for the Consortium before going rouge according to them, now a ‘new’ ship has a QSD who’s biggest jump so far is smaller than our maximum, which would match with the belief that they have copied the drive from the one they stole, before we got it back. It would be interesting to compare the warp signature to Raikenhoff vessel …. Traenor: To be honest, my thoughts had veered towards Raikenoff initially too. But this just isn't his style. Nor that of the Consortium. If Renos was a threat to either of them, which ne really hasn't personally been, then they would have been either way more overt or way more subtle. This just all seems so... random. Logan oOSupposedly Raikenhoff has stolen his ship and the consortium are chasing him to get it back, kidnapped the captain as bait to bring him to them …. That’s rubbish Logan and you know it, if his ship is stolen there’s no way he would just walk up to get Renos from them, his tactics may not be brilliant but he’s not that crazy…. Hatred and a madness towards us possibly but not stupid Oo ::So far the Commander hadn’t waved off his thoughts or theories, even if he thought he was rambling, everyone was feeling the strain. He’d tried to keep his sleep pattern but he was lacking as well, he wasn’t an Engineer so he had no idea what they must be feeling including Commander Varaan who may be a Vulcan but even they aren’t unbreakable. Some of his team had been seconded to maintenance or indeed had become more Engineer than Security for these past weeks, but eating well even if most times it was a workout in and of itself just to keep eating had kept Kurt going, with a nod from the Commander Kurt continued:: Logan: When the ship was docked at the outpost they made no use of the internal comm system …. At all, neither did anyone exit or have any supplies brought on board, why not ?. they were fully supplied for the trip they were going to make, that’s nothing unusual.. but why did no crew leave, did they not want anyone to see the crew, but why we wouldn’t recognise any of them so why the secrecy… and why no comm traffic, you arrive at an outpost land but say nothing else … to anyone ….. their own communication system or prearranged meeting…. But again why the secrecy ? Traenor: Outpost Ops scoured the sensor and comm logs in the days leading up to Renos's departure. If they communicated with somebody on the outpost prior to or during their docking, then it wasn't through normal means. So that's a scratch as well. Logan: Then there’s this ::Showing the sensor feed of the Captain, Ly, and an unknown entering the ship:: that unknown man arrived on the outpost the day before the ship did on a merchant transport. So why did they board an unknown ship.. why would you ?. threats ? the Captain can handle himself enough that threats wouldn’t work, like wise is physical assault… no one’s limping or looks like there carrying any injury. In fear ? …. If the Captain was in fear why didn’t he contact anyone else ..you ?, security ?.... outpost ops …. No you enter somewhere unknown because your told your safe… but told by who ?.... the unknown man well he had to be known to either Renos or Ly otherwise why would you believe its safe, as well why pick Ly who’s combat scores are average on testing….. but is good enough for the captain to help teach a Kaigut class that the captain is proud of ……. ::It was a leap Kurt knew but the facts of the group didn’t fit well with each other:: Traenor: I'm no expert, but nothing about that party looks like they didn't want to be there. Logan: So two J’naii deviants ::Kurt caught the wince from the Commander as the word ‘Deviant’ was used, Kurt himself didn’t think of the Captain in such a way but the word and its meaning were relevant to the matter being discussed:: and a Rodulan, who by the by doesn’t walk right or tilt his head right and his posture is …. Just … off oO How do you say that everything every one has written or commented on the Rodulans of their Physiology and Psychology doesn’t match this one, an odd one out? Oo They enter an unknown ship, that ship leaves after the captain files a flight plan, thus giving them a head start. But it’s destination has been fairly easy to work out the J’naii homeworld, two deviants returning home ?.... not going to be a good welcome, even with the captains knowledge and codes. They’ve decided to become normal J’naii ?, while the captain had very nice dresses made up and treatment for longer hair. If they had headed straight there they would already be there with us trailing far behind, so why take your time ? Traenor: No, it just wouldn't happen that way. Renos would never run like this of nir own volition. Ne and Iy must have been taken. But why do you think they are taking their time? Logan: You take time for two reasons… you’re doing something that needs to be completed before you arrive somewhere… or you want to finish something to prove you can do it before you arrive somewhere Traenor: I think it's their QSD device, actually. It seems... inferior. Our scans show that their recharge time is taking longer and longer between jumps, and they likely can't travel as far per jump as we can. The time they are taking might just be coincidental. Logan:: Shaking his head at the Commanders answer:: No … trying to hide from us ? … no there’s better ways of doing it than what they’re doing, much better, an Engineering Ensign could give you a better plan than there employing, and as for a Security Officer….:: Looking directly at the Commander:: You’d never find me …. ::Turning back to a display of the course they had been taking with time and dates of the Darwin’s arrivals and the approximate time of the unknown vessels leaving of identified points:: Then how are they staying steps ahead of us, jumping out just before we get there … what do they know ?… how do they know it ?…who’s telling them ?? Traenor: ::sighing:: That is the question that keeps hounding us, yes. Logan::Kurt was slightly hesitant to carry on knowing what his statements would mean both to the memory of the Captain and to the outcome of any confrontation:: That gives two worse case scenarios the first is the Captain and or Ly are in command positions on that ship which means that they will have the captain command codes, our prefix codes, and this ships systems …. Including Comms, Personally fairly unlikely, the Captain has much better tactics than what’s being displayed so far. Or the Captain and or Ly are prisoners on that ship which leads to a chain of thought regarding their status and their home world Traenor: ::chin set resolutely:: Never. Even under fear of death, Renos would never surrender nir information. Logan: I have to believe my captain is innocent which means working on the second option Traenor: Yes, I agree. That is - unfortunately our most likely scenario right now. Logan: To counter any Command or prefix codes we could lock the computer from any outside input. oO This is the question that I don’t want to bring up in fact make me naked in front of the Borg….Oo ::Pinching the bridge of his nose Kurt turned to Darwins Command Officer:: Do we know the Captain is aboard that ship ? Traenor: Command codes were transferred to me once Renos was officially recognized as missing. Besides, ne would never divulge that information. Iy never had any clearances that would jeopardize us in this manner. And as for your question... ::diverted eyes:: ...no, we don't know. Logan::The fear of being wrong flickered through the eyes of the Commander:: oO We could have wasted weeks on a fool’s errand finding nothing at the end of it…… No Logan there’s never nothing even if he’s not there they will know something… and they will tell everything they know Oo Therefore I would suggest as soon as we’ve caught them we try and ping the Captains Comm badge, they might have been slack enough and not completely dismantled it or modulated their shields to block any transmissions, those modulations we’ll be able to detect. Traenor: Okay, agreed. I'll leave it up to you to try and make that happen when we catch up to them. Logan: In addition I would suggest hitting their shields in such a way to alert the Captain, if he is held prisoner then he’ll be deep inside, this way will vibrate the ship in such a way to let nir know were here. Traenor: Formulate a plan and send it on to me, I'll look it over. Logan: Security is ready for both boarding their ship, there’s still a couple of things to finalise with Engineering and Sickbay but there all set, were also ready to be boarded we’re setting the ship up as it was against the Borg Traenor: I suppose it's best to be cautious, for sure. Logan oO Be delicate here Logan Oo We also need to make them second guess even slightly, so ….. if you’ll pardon me sir, wear some make up so you don’t look as tired, that’s what they’ll expect, also vary the lighting each time you talk to them even to the point of send a low frequency hum along with the transmission, to keep them thinking. Traenor: Well, ::smirking:: I don't know about putting on facepaint, but I understand what you're saying about the lighting. We might just get them to underestimate us if they think we're not 100 percent. Logan oO Phew that was taken well Oo Use the lighting on the ship as well only have one area lit have the rest dark, again anything to make them think even for a second ::The Commander just sat there in silence staring between the display on the wall mounted screen and the stars streaking by the Darwin :: Logan oO I’ve done it again haven’t I, I’ve lost him…. Oo ::He could feel his heart start to sink, the Commander would want to try anything to find and rescue the Captain but had he just buried any of the chances he found under nonsence and waffle ….. again Oo Traenor: response ::Yes….. this time Kurt had managed to convey his thoughts to someone else, it would be hard but they had a good chance:: Traenor: Yes, that's all good. We'll pass along those suggestion to Ops, they can make it happen. ::Taking a stride closer to the Commander Kurt could see the weight of their mission on his shoulders, the chair he was sat in looked to be the only thing keeping him upright, there was something more between Commander Traenor and Captain Renos than their positions on the Darwin, while not common knowledge it could be spotted when they were around each other, Kurt hoped that it wasn’t going to be lost at the end of this or that it would lead the Commander to act to hastily when the confrontation arose. Commander Stennes was acutely missed at this point as was Rune Jolara, the only other Counselor Kurt had met who he was comfortable around, he himself was no Counsellor by any definition of the word, in Security Counselling really just means shouting louder:: Logan:: Gazing out of the window, rubbing his needing to be shaved stubble:: We will get the Captain back Traenor: ::hoping his tone didn't betray his despondency:: Yes, we will. oO But will it be the same Renos that left, or some psychotectically lobotomized facsimile? Oo Logan: Did you know the Marine Corp has almost as many strikes against it as it has commendations. Traenor: response Logan: Before I wore this uniform I trained and passed out as a Marine, and were taught why, if you injure a marine the rest will always hunt you no matter what. Sergeant Hopkins led a unit against an occupied colony, they recaptured the colony but lost men doing it, it took three years but they tracked down every last 'pirate' that had escaped. In doing so Star Fleet stripped him of his commission...... 30 fellow Marine’s handed there's back in protest. The look they had on that day is a look I will never forget, it's a look that would crumble the pillars of hell .... and I saw it mirrored around this table. And although the Darwin's not a battleship ..... She's a hell of a lot tougher ...... so is her Captain. Traenor: ::realizing the pep talk for what it was:: Aye, I'll drink to that. Logan: I once told a friend the one thing the Marines have that they never break ..... They don't run .... When faced with an enemy, a Marine stands .... always :: a smile tugged at his lips. Looking back out into the space outside the conference rooms windows:: But faced with that same enemy, a friend ::His smile faded as his gaze hardened, turning back to Commander Traenor:: rips it's head off ::nodding and heading for the door:: Commander when I said I saw the same look around the table, I meant not withstanding the pale faces and the tiredness and the bags under the eyes and the uniforms.. and the people being different, but other than that exactly the same ::Nodding to the Commander, Kurt headed for the doors and the meetings and drills that would occupy the next day of his time: Logan: Commander when I said I saw the same look around the table, I meant not withstanding the pale faces and the tiredness and the bags under the eyes and the uniforms.. and the people being different, but other than that exactly the same ::smiling Kurt gave the Commander a wink before disappearing around the corner and of to his next stop to get the pieces ready for the rescue of their Captain:: Paul Lieutenant Jg Kurt Logan - Assistant Security Chief USSDarwin, NCC - 99312 - A E239203KLOHY
  18. ((Deck 5, Sickbay, USS Doyle-A)) ::The Andorian First Officer grumbled and folded his arms across his chest, looking over at the attractive, albeit angry, medical officer.:: Sundassa: Commander, you are the First Officer of this ship, how would it look if one of your officers died from blood loss... Someone from your own species. It's more likely that someone will find out about your lack of involvement than your involvement. ::His antennae angled forward and pointed at the woman standing opposite of him. He was standing along one side and Tel-ar and Sundassa on the other. It was though they were battling over him.:: Udas: Oh yeah? And how? Sundassa: Medical records can be sealed, but even so, most people don't know the donors of blood or organs unless it is authorized by the donating party. Not only that, but how would anyone besides those in medical know that Commander Tel-ar needed a blood transfusion. Bishop: It's even possible that medical records go missing, or just aren't filed when someone doesn't do their job right. ::Udas turned and looked over at Bishop. For months, he had thought little of the Constitution and now Doyle's Chief Medical Officer, but recently he had seen the man in a different light. He considered the missing medical records clause as Sundassa continued speaking.:: Sundassa: You've seen his medical file, this is common for him, he is a frequent visitor of sickbay. What's to say there isn't a stock of blood for when it does? Bishop: Which we can certainly take care of for future concerns. ::Udas pinched the brow of his nose, considering what they were saying. Every inch of his frame, every cell in his body, hated what Tel-ar stood for and what it would mean, if world ever reached Andorian authorities, that he had helped The Outcast. The man wasn't an Andorian in the slightest, renouncing all things from his culture and history. The First Officer knew he was a prideful man, but his species were a proud people. They had fought off numerous invasions, conquers, and internal struggles to emerge, alongside the Vulcans, Humans, and Tellarites as one of the Founding Members of the Federation. And Tel-ar shrugged millennia of history off as though it was a dirty old coat.:: ::But Sundassa had a point. As much he didn't like it, he had a duty to save the lives of his crew. He was the First Officer of the ship, the right hand man, and if someone died, it would be a black mark on his record. He had to be pragmatic and professional about this, as difficult as it may be.:: Udas: So what then? Sundassa: Once blood is donated, it goes to who needs it most, the donors don't know who it is generally, and the recipient doesn't know who gave it. The blood goes through screenings before it is stored anyway, and there's no way to tell whose blood is whose unless you DNA match it to its donor. Udas: And the records would be sealed? It would be locked away? I'd prefer if you just destroyed the [...] thing. Sundassa: Besides, while you wouldn't have to disclose that you were the one who saved him, and we wouldn't do so as part of patient/doctor confidentiality, you'd have the bonus of knowing you were responsible for him still being alive, in a way that Starfleet officers should be proud of their actions... The unfortunate thing is that while good news spreads, bad news spreads faster, which is why if you don't do this, it is more likely to get around that he needed blood, and you refused. First Officers are supposed to care about their crew, and take care of them, and the ship. You are responsible for him, the same way you are responsible for Bishop, Danara, and even my brother. Don't let us down... ::He sighed loudly and grumbled. He didn't respond well to being guilted into things, especially things that were as paramount as pride and family history.:: Bishop: Besides, if you really want to look at it critically, you've already assisted him. You saved our lives, including his, back on DS285 when you worked your way out of the handcuffs that were placed on us with the explosives. If you hadn't freed him then, we'd be dead and you would have lived up to your laws. ::Udas was being worked over by the medical staff and he knew it. He wasn't entirely sure if Bishop's arrival had been an accident, but they had their jobs to do - in this case saving a life- just as he a job to do of keeping the ship operating.:: Udas: ::speaking a bit slowly:: You do, of course, realize he has been blacklisted on Andor. No Andorian is to assist him or offer him any quarter. He is persona non grata as you Pink Skins say. ::sighing:: I'd be ruined if it came out. Bishop: Do you really think your government is going to try to look up absolutely everything you have done and try to tie you in with his lot. :: Alex motioned towards Tal. :: It's a stretch to think they would go that far unless you had aspirations of a great political office back home. But I would think, having risen to the rank of First Officer, you've found a home in Starfleet. If you are constantly holding on to how everyone else thinks of you, then we can make something up that absolves you of any involvement whatsoever. I promise. But, you don't need to let him die just to prove a point. :: He looked down at Tel-ar, who was oblivious to the conversation taking place around him. Udas knew the man to be an Outcast, a [...]ed fool, and a man who took unnecessary risks. He hoped Shel would toss his blue [...] in the Brig or ship him to some research station where the only security risk he ever had to deal with was a vole infestation. But if Udas wanted Tel-ar to be punished, and he did, he would need to keep him alive.:: ::Udas rolled up the sleeve of his left arm, shoving the dark uniform up to just above his elbow. As he was doing this, the Andorian made his way over towards a small table in the room, a stool resting next to it.:: Udas: Do it. Make it quick. Sundassa: Thank you ::He rested his arm on the table, the cool metallic surface feeling pleasant on his skin. Udas looked over at Bishop, moving his antennae in his direction.:: Udas: So about those missing records, doc... Bishop: What records? :: Alex said innocently. :: As for what I'll tell people, if anyone asks... You were asked down here so I could apologize for what I said to you in the transporter room. :: Alex paused a moment. :: I'm sorry. ::He sighed loudly, not in anger at what Bishop had just said, but in resignation of the fact that he was violating about everyone one of his moral codes. He would had just as soon let The Outcast die if he wasn't First Officer.:: Udas: And Tel-ar can never know about this either, understood? Sundassa: As far as he is concerned, we were well prepared, and had a supply of blood for the inevitable, of which we saved his life with. ::He grumbled, thoroughly unhappy, as he watched the two medical professional do what they had to do.:: Udas: Do it. Make it quick. Sundassa: Thank you ::He rested his arm on the table, the cool metallic surface feeling pleasant on his skin. Udas looked over at Bishop, moving his antennae in his direction.:: ::The Andorian huffed a bit to himself as he watched Sundassa grab a special hypospray and loaded some sort of bag to the device. Once she had that, she moved to the table and tied a tourniquet onto his arm. Looking away from the pretty doctor, he eyed Bishop.:: Udas: So about those missing records, doc... Bishop: What records? As for what I'll tell people, if anyone asks... You were asked down here so I could apologize for what I said to you in the transporter room. ::he paused:: I'm sorry. ::Udas smirked, realizing that perhaps he liked this Bishop character more than he previously realized.:: Udas: And Tel-ar can never know about this either, understood? Sundassa: As far as he is concerned, we were well prepared, and had a supply of blood for the inevitable, of which we saved his life with. ::It wasn't much of a stretch. The selfish man had displayed a knack for getting himself injured, Udas had learned over their nearly a year of serving together. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looked over at the two medical professionals.:: Udas: I can't believe I let you two talk me into this.
  19. (( Hallway to the Airlock of USS Apollo-A )) :: Jalana walked right towards the airlock that would bring her onto DS285, where the Apollo had just docked after a considerably short flight for the distance they had crossed. The joys of the Slipstream drive. She was not sure why she had been told to meet with Captain Shelther Faranster, but as the brother of her best friend, he did not have to have a reason. She was curious though. Nobody had attempted to clear her confusion, she only had gotten the order. It was a surprise to her that they were even here, but since she worked in Sick Bay, she knew, that she’d miss some vital things from the bridge work flow. Sometimes she wishes she had not told Jaxx, that she did not want to be out of Sick Bay.:: :: She loved her job, but now there was more history, more experience in her belly, literally. It had changed things, it had changed her wishes and ambitions. And it made her miss being in the loop as she had been once. Not only on the Apollo, but way back a long long time on the Farel, when she had been Commanding Officer of the Trill Private Service. She shook away the memory of the day the union with the UFP had been announced, the day she had lost her position, and headed out of the airlock, with a small nod and a smile towards the security officers that let her through. :: (( Outside Airlock, Deck 50, DS285 )) :: Shel had just gotten back from his hurried mission to track down the fugitives from the Marquis reborn, and was glad to be at his home station, where it all started for him. On their way back, he had received the Commander exam results of his sister's best friend, as well as orders to promote her to Commander, an honor he would be doing for the first time. Also in his orders, were instructions to deliver the USS Constitution-B to the woman, for her first command. The ship had been in the hands of a crew of Starfleet Engineers since he had left for his mission. :: :: Since orders from above had the Apollo at his home station, he sent the request for the woman to meet with him, and when he knew they were docked, and she would be coming through, he made sure he was waiting on the other side of the docking tube. :: :: Jalana stepped out and a big smile crossed her face. There he stood. The purple hair was not easy to miss. She found it fascinating, that colours that were unnatural for some species, were the most normal thing for others. Like his sister with her bright lilac hair, that so many thought was dyed. She headed right to him and held out her hand to greet him. :: Rajel: Shelther, nice to see you again so soon. :: Taking her hand, he shook it, since it was official business, and he had never met with her outside his sister's company, he figured that was safest. :: Faranster: Space is small when you have a slipstream, isn't it? :: He grinned at the woman. :: How was the flight? Rajel: It was good, just a little surprising. We had not docked for a long time on DS 5 before we apparently were called here. How is the Doyle? :: Shel almost laughed at the question, Starfleet gave him a brand spanking new ship, and within hours, he is fired upon. At least this time, his shields worked. :: Faranster: Getting acquainted with her crew, you know, got to break it to see how it works... Or so my Engineers tell me. Rajel: ::Smirking:: Yes, I think I heard that before. And how is she doing under the pressure to do well? Faranster: Not too bad, got back here on QSD, so we were able to maintain structural integrity. :: He paused. :: But, I didn't call you to the station to exchange status reports. Rajel: I figured. How is Sun doing? :: Jalana had left the Doyle to return to the Apollo without Sun. Her best friend had chosen to remain a little longer with her brother. Jalana was not sure, but maybe also to have a little distance from the Apollo. While they had met Andrus on the Doyle as well, something had seemed off between them. Truth to be told, Jalana missed her friend and could not wait to see her again. :: Faranster: She's fine, and anxious to join you, actually. She's gathering up her belongings. :: He glanced at the security officers for a moment. :: Walk with me. :: They started moving away from the air lock. He knew she had to be curious, but he would have been clobbered by Sundassa if rumors spread to her before she was able to find out herself about the promotion he was bestowing on her best friend. :: Faranster: I don't think you ever got a tour of my old ship. Rajel: I did not have the opportunity. You were rather eager to move to the Doyle, when we arrived. But then I did not have a tour of that either. ::She looked up to him with a smirk on her lips.:: :: He laughed a little, the woman was right, before he could give her a tour of the new ship, he was called out for an important mission. It seemed every time they were up for shore leave, something interrupted it. :: Faranster: Well, while I can easily correct the tour issue with the Doyle any time you'd like, I would like to give you a tour of the Constitution now. :: The red brows of the Trill wandered upwards, pushing the spots on her forehead against the hairline. :: Rajel: She is here? When I left she was still at DS 10, that’s quite a distance to make sure we can have a tour. :: The ship did make it a great distance, and he wasn't quite certain how they did it, probably something above his pay grade. But it was certain that they wanted the Trill to have the ship. :: Faranster: Yes, she's docked on the other side. I am surprised you didn't see her on the way in, but on DS 10 we did have a couple Garuda crew members mistaken the Constitution for theirs, so I suppose all Galaxy class look alike. Rajel: ::laughing:: Well if you went through that trouble, sure why not. There is something about walking through an empty ship. :: They started walking, his gentle direction towards the docking port the Galaxy class starship was ported at. He was still keeping it secret, because news spread like wildfire. Of course, without facts, rumors also got spread. :: Faranster: You sound like you've done this more than once, how many times have you toured empty ships? Rajel: Twice. Once about 160 years ago and a bit more than a year ago, before the crew moved into the Apollo-A. :: He laughed, the Apollo-A was a huge ship, one worth walking through while almost empty. He did however hear, through the rumor mill, stories of a lilac haired woman running squealing through the halls. But, he had gone to lengths of trying to discredit those rumors, as they didn't sound very flattering to their then FO. :: Faranster: I knew about the Apollo, I am curious about your encounters with her empty halls. :: Jalana smiled, he knew that Antosians were curious - possibly none more than Sun, but she could imagine her brother have the same inclination. :: Rajel: Well, it was in the lifetime of Apria, the third host... (( Flashback - about 160 years go plus minus a year or so )) :: The Trill Private Service, finally she had made it. Apria Navile had finished her training and now was Listra, the first rank in the officer's system. She was excited and wanted to get to work right away, though she would have to wait. The TSS Farel was a brand new ship, and the crew was not on board yet, but would join from all over Trillus Prime and its colonies tomorrow. Because Apria was already close to the docks, she had decided to not return home to her parents, but head there right away. :: :: So there she was, walking through an empty hallway of the TSS Farel, the floor swallowing the sounds of her steps, which gave it all an eerie silence. She knew that she was not alone on board, there were people who put the finishing touches on the ship, be it calibrating sensors, connecting power to all systems or last check ups. But they were all busy, hidden in the guts of the ship. But as eerie it was, as peaceful it felt. :: :: She could not put her finger on it, but it was calming, as if the ship made a special connection with her, as she stepped to one of the walls and placed her small hand on it. She was sure she felt some vibrations, but was not sure if it came from the ship itself, or from the dock it was attached to. :: :: This would be her home for as long as she could possibly could. This was where she would do her magic as resources manager and operations officer. She would make sure everyone had what they needed, well not only her but the team she was joining. It was an important position and she was proud of it. A smile brushed over her lips as her palm slid gently over the smooth material of the wall. :: Apria Navile: We'll be good friends you and I. I can feel it. ((/Flashback)) :: As they stepped through the airlock and onto the Constitution, he recalled how he felt being on this ship when it was his command. Now he was thinking about all the things he needed to give Jalana heads up about. His tactical officer always had a problem with the shields on the ship, of course it was possible it was just his tactical officer, and if that was the case, then she wouldn't have to worry. :: (( Hall by Airlock, Deck 25, USS Constitution )) :: Turning around, he held out his hand to help Jalana through the airlock. :: Faranster: It is an interesting thing, having the ship being so quiet, let's head to the bridge first. Rajel: Why the bridge? ::She was curious, since last time he had asked her about what she wanted to see, he had suggested Sick Bay first. :: Faranster: Well, this was my first Command, so it does hold a special place. Rajel: I can see that. Well then, Captain. lead the way. ::She smirked up to him:: :: They moved towards the turbolift. When they stepped inside, he called out their destination and the lift started its ascent. He figured promoting her on the bridge of the ship, was appropriate since she was going to be the one commanding it. :: Rajel: How was it to command a Galaxy Class? From what I learned in the Academy it has some history. Faranster: There is some history to the class, but more importantly there is history to the Constitution herself. Do you know much about the class? Rajel: Only heard of it and well, the short visit. The first Apollo was an Achilles Class ship and well the Odyssey Class you know. :: He smiled, he had briefly been on both of those ships with her, and now there would be a third ship in common. :: Faranster: Each ship's class has its own beauty. I liked commanding this ship... :: Although he did find that he loved commanding the Doyle, it was probably the fact that the ship was his, not a ship that had numerous commanding officers before him. Although, for his first ship, there was nothing like the Galaxy class ship that they were inside. :: (( Bridge - USS Constitution ) :: When the lift stopped and opened, they entered onto the bridge. It was much smaller than the one of the Apollo-A, but it was actually quite nice. She liked the round shapes, not only of the back of the bridge, but also at the tactical and security station behind the three middle seats. It made everything look rather organic and pleasant. :: Rajel: Lovely. At this size at least nobody has to scream to make sure everyone on the bridge hears it. ::She grinned at Shelther.:: Is the Doyle's bridge of that size too? Faranster: The Doyle's bridge is about the same size, but nothing is as big as that banquet bridge that you currently have. I only hope it doesn't spoil you too much. ::Looking around she compared it to the Apollo bridge, apart from the size the order and arrangement of the consoles was different too, and they were not holographic. It was a little old fashioned, which was pretty nice, she thought. :: Rajel: It think that this... banquet bridge, is actually a little too big. Why do you hope that? Faranster: Well, while I would have loved for this to be a purely personal visit, I actually have some official business. I have the results of your Commander's exam, Jalana. Rajel: ::The surprise was written in big letters into her face.:: You do? Why have they sent them to you? ::After she asked, she actually had another question that was way more pressing to her.:: Will you tell me the results? :: He reached into his pocket, for a promotion ceremony, he would have a box for it with him, but he wanted to keep things as quiet as possible. He wrapped his fingers around the solid pip and removed his hand from the pocket. :: Faranster: Congratulations, Commander. :: holding his hand out, showing the solid pip. :: You passed, and are hereby being promoted from Lieutenant Commander to full Commander, complete with the rights and responsibilities of the rank. :: He smiled broadly at her. :: Would you like me to do the honors? :: Pointing with his empty hand to her collar. :: :: Her heart beat faster. She had done it. She had really done it! Her cheeks turned reddish as she remembered how worried she had been, that while she was a good doctor, she possibly was not cut out to rise up further in the ranks. It was an unbelievable feeling, she could jump of joy and only because this seemed to be a hint official, she held back. But she could not avoid grinning widely. :: Rajel: Please do, Captain. :: He was happy for her, it was a big achievement to be promoted to Commander, of course it was a big achievement to get your own command when being promoted to Commander. Something about the smile on her face made him excited for her, in a way he hadn't been excited about his own. His promotion had been a relief, a new challenge that didn't have the burden of his family. But the excitement in her eyes gave a different story, and he wanted to know what it was. :: Faranster: You earned this. :: As he stepped closer to remove the half-pin and fasten the solid one she raised her head, partly to give him better access to the collar, and also to look at him, since he was quite a bit taller than her. The top of his hand accidentally brushed along the line of her jaw, causing a gentle shiver run down Jalana's back at the warmth of his skin met her cooler one. :: Rajel: Thank you. It’s an honor to receive the new pip from you, Shelther. :: After Shel quickly finished changing the gold encrusted black, half pip, for the solid gold pip that showed the achievement that the woman had accomplished, he exhaled sharply. He tried to be careful when he had put the pin in place, and hoped he hadn't hurt her, looking at her, he didn't see any sign that he had, and smiled. :: Faranster: I am glad that I was able to bestow this honor on you, you are a good officer and it was a pleasure to serve beside you on the Apollo. Rajel: ::Smiling:: Why thank you. Faranster: I think, you'll make a great Commanding Officer. :: He grabbed her hand and directed her to the center seat of the bridge. :: I know you've sat in the Captain's seat before, but sit there, and imagine it's your ship, and you're in charge, the crew all reports to you, and you are their Commanding Officer. :: He was getting excited describing it to her, being in command of his own ship, which was now to be hers. Imagining how it felt, all over again, being there for the first time, newly in charge of the crew. :: :: She laughed as she sat down on the chair, leaning back and brushing her hands over the armrests ending on the small screens at their ends. At her size it felt like the chair was a little big, but she didn't mind, it still was cozy. :: Rajel: Wouldn't that be something. Me in charge. ::She chuckled:: It does remind me of the time when I was First Officer under your sister, while Jaxx had been gone on some other duty. Wasn't too bad. It would be an exciting adventure, and surely different than in the Trill Private Service. It's a different time. Faranster: Well, you should be excited... :: Shel grabbed his PADD from his back pocket, with the orders for Jalana, as well as ship specs for the Constitution. Jalana would need them. Holding the PADD out, he spoke again. :: Starfleet Command wants the next Commanding Officer of the Constitution to be, you. :: As she heard the words she still laughed, but in the corner of her eyes she saw him hold out the PADD and her green eyes shifted to them, then up to his face in disbelief. :: Rajel: Are you serious? Faranster: About the ship being yours? Very serious, I am glad to be able to pass my first command off to you as your first command. :: Since the Constitution was his first command, he was very pleased that she was going to a good friend, someone who would take care of her. Being able to hand the ship over, ordered or otherwise, was a great honor. :: ((Flashback, ca 150 years ago)) :: The office was quiet, safe for the beep here and there coming from the screen on the desk. The man behind it did not pay any attention to it, but tapped a datapadd on his fingertips. Apria stood attention ever since she had come inside, waiting for the Vedran behind the desk to speak, while her eyes went straight, out of the window to the stars. :: Parx: Do you know why I have called you here, Kezra Rajel? Apria Rajel: No, Sir. Parx: You might be aware that Terza Grent has been relieved of duty and therefore of command of the TSS Farel. A. Rajel: It made its rounds, Sir. Parx: Good, then it won't be a surprise for you. After careful consideration of the candidates and their files, the choice of the future Commanding Officer falls on you. :: Her eyes fell down on the older Trill's face for just a split second, in surprise and disbelief, but quickly returned to her official stance. Was he joking? Of course he was not, Vedrans did not joke about that kind of thing. She was going to be the Commanding Officer of the Farel, the only ship she had ever served on. :: A. Rajel: It is an honour, Sir. :: Though the words could not describe how she felt. The pride and joy that hummed in her, made it to her lips, as the corners lifted to a smile. This was like a dream come true. She had been here from the first day of its 'life' and now it was hers. :: ((/Flashback)) :: Jalana smiled, remembering like yesterday how she had gotten command of the TSS Farel. Apria would decline just because the Constitution was a Federation ship. But Jalana had been a Federation member ever since her birth, just like Trill had been for over a hundred years now. She had served in Starfleet and she could not imagine not continuing so. :: Rajel: I.. I don't know what to say. ::She took the PADD without looking at it.:: That is.. wow. ::She laughed.:: You could not have told me that before I left to return to the Apollo, right? ::She had just left to return, just to come back to the Conny, oh the irony.:: :: He took a seat in the seat reserved for the First Officer, looking out at the view screen. Shel was glad she was happy, or least she seemed happy. His first commission to the ship, was a good and a stressful thing at once, but never the less, he had been happy when it happened. The crew, knew him and trusted him now, even if they were weary at first. :: Faranster: I'll take that as a good thing, Jalana. Rajel: I do have a question though. Who will be my crew? :: That was a good question, one he might have asked himself. As it stood right now, a good number of the crew from the Apollo would be joining her. He didn't know what was happening with the Admiral, or where he was, Sun hadn't spoken to him the entirety of their trip, but he knew that Sun was looking forward to getting Puck back. :: Faranster: Your crew will be comprised of a number of officers from the Apollo. Rajel: ::Her eyes widened:: Really? That is fantastic! ::She realized that it meant that Jaxx would not return. She had a guess where he was gone, since he had never found out if his children were still alive. But.. :: What about D'Sena? :: D'Sena was an officer he barely met in passing as he was leaving the ship, Sun had some experience with her, but not very much that she passed on to him. It was obvious to him that she was curious why they didn't offer this opportunity to the other woman. :: Faranster: I suspect they aren't as impressed with her performance. Rajel: I understand. I had not expected that Starfleet would jump on the chance to bring me into the center chair. I had stated my interest in Command after all, thanks to Apria. But... wow. Apparently they do manage to make me speechless. ::She laughed:: Did you feel like that when you got command? Faranster: :: He sighed, this day was for reflecting on his first command. :: I am not sure I found myself speechless. I didn't like saying goodbye, that part was hard, but you won't have to do that. :: He smiled at Jalana. :: Rajel: ::She returned the smile.:: I am glad about that. It does sounds like the whole process wasn't easy for you. Faranster: I had passed up the opportunity several times to move towards command with our fleet on Antosia, due to my family needing me. But, after things changed, I jumped when I could take this. :: Part of him wondered if it was a good choice, his sister had just broke off her engagement. Hopefully she would be able to find whatever it is that she needed to find, but he knew one thing, she didn't want to hold him back any more, and now he had more people relying on him than just his family. :: Rajel: And your crew is surely grateful for that. From what I saw you are a good Captain. Faranster: Since these people are people you've served with, you probably already feel the same way I do about my crew, they are your family. :: He paused and reached over, putting his hand on her arm. :: Let Sun take care of you, and please take care of her. :: She fidgeted a little on the seat to turn herself towards him, before she placed her hand on his. :: Rajel: Sun is one of the most important people in my life, I will always take care of her. And I think she would say the same about me. :: Shel nodded, during the time on the Doyle with his sister, he had initially told her that she couldn't hide on his ship from her heartbreak, but after having a chance to talk to her, she didn't want to. By what he could tell, while she didn't want to be reminded of what she lost, she didn't want to leave her best friend, and he knew that it would be worse for her to be away from Jalana than to be somewhere near Jaxx. Fortunately, she was going to be free of reminders and be with her best friend. :: Faranster: I think you are right, Jalana. Rajel: ::smirking:: Hey if you are anywhere close the same goes for you. Being her brother means you are family. Faranster: :: squeezing her arm gently he smiled again. :: Thank you, I feel the same. :: He thought back to how protective he was of her when she was going through her breakdown from finding out about Commander Lanius. And then protecting her from scandal cost him his counselor, a price he gladly paid. The man seemed more concerned about how things appeared for him, than protecting Jalana's reputation, and given her situation, Shel felt the man was taking advantage of it. :: Faranster: I haven't heard much about your family, but I am sure they will be proud of you. How about you? :: She looked around the bridge and listened to her inner voice. Her hand remained on his for another moment. :: Rajel: I feel pride. I don't know if you know that, but my father intended for me to follow his footsteps, to become a diplomat, even an Ambassador. Faranster: I take it that you didn't like the career path that he wanted you to take. Rajel: ::She laughed:: Well, it wasn't too bad, but it was not for me. I always knew I wanted to be a doctor. The night I told him, he told me he did not want see me any more, so I left. I finished Medical School on Trill and then went to Earth to join Starfleet. He said I would never make it. :: That must have been hard on her to have a parent not believe in her. The Faranster children never experienced that, lack of faith from their parents. They were encouraged, but they also knew the pressure of expectations, from their mother. He thought there was a certain level of cruelty in discouraging a dream. :: Faranster: Well, look at you now, an accomplished doctor, a Starfleet Commander, and commanding your own starship! Rajel: Well the pride I feel not only because I have made it as a doctor and as an officer.. but also because I made it before I was joined. Nobody can say that I achieved any of this because of knowledge from past lives and while I value my symbiont and what I gained from it, it is nice to know that I made it without. Faranster: Did you know, that you are following your father's career path of choice, even if not the desired route, at this point? :: Her green eyes looked at the purple haired man a little taken aback. :: Rajel: What do you mean? Faranster: Diplomacy, ambassador... They are roles that we have to fill on a daily basis as Captain. It's something I am sure you've noticed with Admiral Jaxx, and when Sun stood in as Commanding Officer on the Aegis. :: Jalana blinked slightly, she had never looked at it like that. But it was true, while every officer learned from the start that their actions reflected on the fleet and with that they were ambassadors of Starfleet, it was way more literal for Commanding Officers. Not only in their way of general conduct, but also in the way they were the first to react to new situations, First Contacts, Crises and such. Jalana shook her head and laughed.:: Rajel: Will you look at that. After years of going my own path, I am returning to where it began. :: Shel couldn't help but laugh in response as she realized the truth in what he said. :: Faranster: Amazing, isn't it? Rajel: The way I look at it, it is the best of both worlds. I am myself, I do what I love and I am where I want to be, and still weave my father’s wishes for me into my life. Faranster: Yes, you are you. Your father would be a fool not to be proud of the woman you became. Do you have plans to tell him? :: Shel was only a friend, and he was proud of what Jalana had achieved. Parents should be proud of their kids when they do something they enjoy, and he believed Jalana was exactly where she wanted to be. :: Rajel: I guess I should. Maybe hearing about that will make him at least talk with me again. ::She smirked as she looked at him:: Thank you for showing me that side. I have not thought of it. :: Shel stood, and stepped in front of her, extending his hand to help her from the seat. It was sounding like their time on the bridge was coming to an end, and they should move on to the rest of the tour. :: :: Jalana smiled as placed her hand into his and stood up. She continued the fluid motion to step closer and wrap her arms around him for a hug to show her appreciation. It was the first ever between them, though it felt appropriate. He was her best friend's brother and she had just told him that he was family. :: Faranster: You're always welcome. Let me know how it works out. :: She stepped back again and nodded, her lips still curved upwards. :: Rajel: Of course. ::Pause:: Has Starfleet mentioned when we are to leave and where our operational area is? Faranster: I wish I knew, but I imagine you'll receive your orders from Starfleet Command shortly. :: He thought about it for a moment, when he received the Constitution, he didn't get his orders from Jaxx as to where they were going, but a message directly to him from Command. There were certain things that needed to be done in person, he supposed, and others that could be done from far away. :: Rajel: Well, even you cannot know everything. :: She grinned and walked slowly towards the lift.:: Then let’s stay with what you do know. How about you show me the rest of me my ship? Faranster: I think I can do that. :: He followed her to the turbolift, and thought about all the locations on the ship that he found interesting. There was a curiosity looming as to who she would have in charge of the lounge. The aquatics lab didn't need to be on the tour, as she would have seen that, and medical too. There was just so much to show on the ship, as it had a good number of decks. :: :: As they moved through the ship, they talked, and he explained the missions and difficulties they had with their shields and computers. Advised against bringing on scientists from space stations that specialize in viruses, or going into temporal anomalies. :: :: Jalana thoroughly enjoyed taking the tour with Shelther. She was in awe of the library, which looked like they stepped into an old world, that many had long forgotten or not even known it had existed. She saw Sick Bay which was smaller than on the Apollo but had its own charm. She was excited to say the least, knowing that this was her ship. Her own command. She could still hardly believe it. And she could not wait to tell Sundassa the news. This would be one wild adventure. ::
  20. // Captain's Personal Log, SD 239206.19 // Of course I didn't see it coming. Who would have? Who would have ever thought that he would have by the Architecting President? No one, that's who. Which is why, of course, I thought it was okay to let my mind wander in the first place. (( Main Reception Hall, USS Invicta )) Egan Manno: Kells! :: Egan Manno's voice was a whisper, albeit it a pointed one. Her elbow, on the other hand, was not so soft. He was surprised, a moment later, that she'd risked it; some of the cameras were already on them, and they would've caught not only that motion but also his way he jerked out of his reverie. :: Kells: Hrmph? Egan Manno: Stand. Up. :: She was smiling. Everyone was. And clapping? Yes, all of them were applauding, and the president was -- Architect, was she looking at him? What off Earth was she doing that for? :: Kells: What? Why? Egan Manno: Just do it! :: So he stood. Not knowing why, but he figured, if the president was looking, well, the worst he could do was make a fool of himself -- and with Egan Manno's elbow, he'd already done that. Then she began to speak... :: // Captain's Personal Log, SD 239206.19 // No one would've seen it coming because it's ludicrous. One's orders come from one's CO -- in my case, Egan Manno -- or, at the very outside, the CO a grade or two above one's. Not from the president. The Starfleet isn't a military organization and she's not Commander-in-Chief of the Federation Starfleet -- but damned if that stopped her here. At first I didn't know what to think. I mean, it was the rhetoric I dreaded, all about bravery on the frontier and pushing the limits of exploration and the steady hands of diplomacy -- sound bites, little nothings that had zero to do with the Va Wreth mission and the capture of Ross, which is what I finally gathered she was talking about. But why me? I hadn't really done anything special, and most of my senior staff hadn't even been allowed in. By the Architect, Rahman wasn't even there, and her teams had been entirely responsible for finding Ross. But then she came to it, finally. Not only was I and my crew all that she'd said, we were the very best of the Starfleet and of its mission here, including the great experiment that was Astrofori One. The Invicta, she said, and I swear she was looking right at me when she said it, is exactly the sort of vessel Starfleet wants to have at this crucial juncture in the Menthar Corridor. And she, damn it all, couldn't think of any captain and crew she would rather have aboard. (( Main Reception Hall, USS Invicta )) :: Push up, pull down: Aron was so lost in a moment he hadn't believed had actually happened that Egan Manno, as surreptitiously as possible, had to tug on a pleat in the back of his uniform jacket. He was already clapping, had been as he stood there and continued to as he sat down rather abruptly. The applause continued, though the bright eyes of the cameras returned to the president as she continued to speak. Aron bent over to whisper in Egan Manno's ear. :: Kells: Can she do that? Egan Manno: I'm not going to argue with her. Are you? Kells: But-- really, can she do that? Does she have the authority? Egan Manno: Of course not. But she's expressed her desire to see the Garuda's successful crew, including its captain, transfer to the Invicta. I, and the other officers who actually make such things happen, will put through all the orders. It's a semantics question, Captain, and easily resolved. ::beat:: Congratulations. :: She actually seemed to mean it, too, despite being caught just as off-guard as he'd been. Well, and he supposed that there was nothing else for it: He couldn't exactly protest now. Wouldn't that be something, though? To stop the State of the Federation address as it was being given and insist that he wouldnt' take the spot? It would be pointless grandstanding, of course, more of the rhetoric he hated -- but something about it definitely appealed to him. :: // Captain's Personal Log, SD 239206.19 // Not that I was ever actually going to do it, of course. The president's promise was one thing, but Egan Manno's assent? Well, that was a done deal. She'd made it quite clear when she appointed me as the Garuda's CO what my options were (namely, take command or -- nope, there is no 'or'), so I didn't have much hope here. Nor did I have a good reason for not wanting to do as the president said, beyond that initial shock -- though once I started to think about it a little more, I realized that all my previous years of CO experience were vastly different from this. I'd operated alone, as the CO of the single Starfleet starship for dozens and dozens of light-years, in uncharted, often hostile space. And now they wanted me to play politician? It seemed bizarre, but -- as I say, I wasn't going to argue. (( Bridge, USS Invicta )) :: It certainly wasn't a bridge as he was used to it. The ships he'd seen rolling out of Utopia Planitia had increasingly dark, crowded bridges. True, there were some, like the Intrepid class, which were fairly large -- but always so dark. The Invicta's wasn't anything like that. Huge and bright, it built upon familiar aspects of the Garuda's basic model -- the tactical horseshoe, the array of consoles at the bridge's rear -- but included an entire conference room right in the middle of the bridge, as well as increased automation -- only two stations at the bridge's front, for ops and science -- and a lot of space devoted to seating areas, presumably for the use of discussion and use of foreign dignitaries and notables. The Invicta, after all, was a ship dedicated to diplomacy and science. And was, for the moment, a few hours after the State of the Federation address, mostly empty. In fact, with the exit of a pair of technicians a few moments ago, Aron was alone. He wouldn't remain that way for long, though, and he didn't turn when he heard the turbolift doors open. Nor did he sit down at the conference table; rather, he stood at the front of the bridge, gazing at the huge viewscreen. :: Kells: Roshanara. I've been waiting. Rahman: My apologies, captain. Kells: No, no hurry. I imagine you've heard, then. Rahman: Part of the delay was there seemed to be a bit of a mix up. I was told initially I'd be remaining on the Garuda to accompany her back towards the Federation. Kells: I know. Believe me, your lack of invitation was not my intent, and had I realized it earlier, I would've said something. However-- :: He hesitated. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell her this, but -- despite the smashing success the president seemed to believe their prior mission had been -- it felt wrong to add to their growing CO/XO relationship with a lie. :: Kells: It was done intentionally. I understand that ::beat:: you were not the first choice to accompany the Invicta as its executive officer. :: And he disliked the president's rhetoric? :: Rahman: I see… Kells: Starfleet Command thought it might be prudent to assign another officer. I disagreed, and Egan Manno backed me up. You're still here, you're my XO, and I told them that was the last I wanted to hear about it. ::beat:: Now, then, we have to begin transitioning everything over. I'll trust you to coordinate shakedown and shore leave schedules, alright? Rahman: Understood, sir. Kells: Very good. ::beat, badge tap:: =/\= This is Captain Kells to all Garuda crew. Effective immediately, the senior staff has been reassigned to the USS Invicta, along with many junior officers and enlisted personnel. Please see your department heads for details, and if you have been reassigned, report over no later than 1800 this evening to prepare for a short shakedown cruise. That is all. =/\= Rahman: If there's anything else, Captain? TBC! Captain Aron KellsCommanding OfficerUSS Invicta
  21. JP by Evan Delano and Harrison Ross (simmed by Quinn Reynolds) (( Station Brig, Astrofori One )) ::When Delano entered the station's brig, Ross had completed his rendition of 'Trial by Jury' and moved on to 'H.M.S. Pinafore'. His sonorous voice was now belting out 'I am the Captain of the Pinafore' at an impressive volume, and the song even reached as far as the control room where Reynolds, watching the monitors. ::His arrival prompted Reynolds to turn, her vaguely hopeful expression crumbling into mild disappointment on seeing him, before swiftly returning a squinting neutrality.:: Reynolds: Commander. What are you doing here? Delano: Commander Rahman asked me to take charge of the interrogation. ::She looked at him for a long moment, lips thinning, and then she nodded.:: Reynolds: I'll stay out here, if you don't mind. I'm a distraction, if nothing else. ::The best way to lie was with the element of truth, after all.:: :: Evan pressed his lips together to keep his expression still. He could feel the weight of Ross' attention, and he didn’t want to give the man any emotional ammunition he might be able to use against Evan. :: Delano: That may be for the best. ::break:: What have you learned? Reynolds: We think we might have figured out how they intended to get off the station -- a ship called the Parkhaven. Commander Brunsig from Strategic Ops is chasing down that lead with Glin Zorkal now. Delano: Brunsig… I don’t believe we’ve met, but if you’ve got someone on it… ::There was a twitch, the corner of her eyes narrowing for a split second, and then it was gone.:: Reynolds: He's a good man, and good at his job. Delano: All right. I’ll take it from here. ::She nodded, and although it was tightly reined in, there was a small expression of unhappiness on her face.:: Reynolds: Good luck, Commander. Don't let him rattle you. :: Evan took a moment to collect his thoughts, then left the control room and approached the cells. Upon seeing him, Ross finally stopped singing and broke out into a warm, broad smile.:: Ross: Ah, Lieutenant *Commander* Delano. Congratulations on the promotion. So nice to see old friends going up in the world. Delano: Mr. Ross. :: Evan said in a neutral tone as he gave the nod to the Cardassian guard to lower the forcefield. Evan stepped inside a moment later, hands clasped behind his back. :: Delano: Considering what you do to your friends, I’d appreciate you not feigning some kind of prior relationship. We barely knew each other. ::Ross placed a hand over his heart, the smile still playing at the corners of his mouth.:: Ross: You wound me. But if we're not friends, you may call me Commander, or Sir. After all, due process. I may be under arrest, but I still hold my rank until a court martial strips it of me. Delano: Well, that’s why I’m here, isn’t it. There’s no history between us for you to exploit. Ross: No? But let me guess. You've come to succeed where our Cardassian friend has failed? Delano: Something like that. Ross: Alright then, fire away. And remember, it's *Commander* Ross. :: A small smile tugged at the corner of Evan’s mouth, breaking his otherwise stoic mask. :: Delano: Should I have a uniform brought down here? Ross: Not a bad idea. Quinn would certainly appreciate it. ::He paused to direct a cheery wave at the monitoring device in the corridor.:: I do look very dashing in one. Perhaps not dress whites, though. Don't you find they chafe? Delano: Oh, no, the last thing we’d want is for you to be uncomfortable. Though… come to think of it, it’s a little cold in here. :: Evan walked towards the environmental controls and entered his security access codes to override the normal restrictions. He had no intention of torturing Ross, but he needed to take away the former first officer’s sense of control, one way or another. Making the man sweat might not get him any answers, but it would at least give Evan a small bit of satisfaction. :: Delano: *Commander* Ross, have you ever been to Vulcan? It gets rather hot in the deserts. ::Ross grinned at him, apparently delighted.:: Ross: Why, Delano. I do believe you have a vicious streak. Delano: Vicious? I’d call it pragmatic. I’ll let Egan Manno decide which, if it comes to that. :: Astrofori’s environmental systems were more than efficient. The hot, dry air blowing into the room was quickly raising the room’s temperature. Evan unzipped his jacket and slowly removed it, though he was careful to never take his eyes off Ross. :: Delano: That’s better. It’s summer back home, you know. Garuda’s kept at a constant 20 degrees; it gets a little… boring. :: Evan stepped closer to Ross, hands once again folded in the small of his back. :: Delano: I don’t suppose you’d just tell me what I want to know? ::Ross grinned at Delano as he asked the question, and breathed a brief chuckle before he answered.:: Ross: That depends. Do you want to know the secret to making the perfect martini? That, I would feel honour-bound to share. Delano: Tempting. But I was thinking we could talk more about why you came here. Your plans for the president’s speech, for example. Ross: Ah. I'm afraid not, then. :: Evan shrugged, then crossed his arms over his chest. :: Delano: Even if I throw in one of those martinis? You always struck me as an extra dry kind of guy. :: The hum of the ventilation system dulled back to it’s previous level as the temperature stabilized at just over 45 degrees. Small beads of sweat began to manifest on Evan’s forehead. Full-blooded Vulcans had no sweat glands, but Evan had been spared that particular oddity of his father’s DNA. ::Ross was not immune to the heat either, and he pulled off the heavy jacket he was wearing, dropping it on the bunk. His pale skin was flushing pink, sweat visibly [...]ling across his skin.:: Ross: That depends on how *you* make them. Delano: Gin. Vermouth. An olive and a splash of juice. Clear liquors need a little help in the flavor department. Ross: Alas. Each to his own. I'll pass. :: Evan sighed. :: Delano: I need to know if you or whoever you work for is planning something at the president’s address. Ross: ::Mildly,:: I'm sure you do. Delano: Who *are* you working for? Ross: You know, I *have* been to Vulcan. Charming place. Lovely statues. Delano: Have you? Was that before or after Pleethion? Ross: Oh, a long time ago. Part of my SERE training. His SERE training? ::He waved a hand to brush off the comment.:: Whichever. You know what I mean. :: Arms still crossed, Evan gave a curt nod, then paced back to the bulkhead. :: Delano: I do. I suppose it’s fitting for you to keep them separate. Everything I know about the real Harrison Ross says he would be disgusted by you. Ross: Oh, he is. I can assure you of that. Delano: Are you admitting he’s the original, then? Ross: ::He grinned.:: I don't recall ever denying it. :: Evan raised an eyebrow - a largely Vulcan habit he’d picked up in recent months. Too much time with Saveron, perhaps - or Evan’s father. :: Delano: Intriguing. The original personality is still intact? ::A look of faint irritation crossed Ross' face, and he wiped away the sweat on his brow with the back of his hand.:: Ross: No point in denying that after this afternoon, is there? Delano: You mean what happened with Captain Reynolds? :: Evan had very few details about the incident that had led to Ross’s capture, but Ross didn’t need to know that. Unless he already did, given that he simply grunted in response. :: :: He took a deep breath, then refocused on the task at hand. Determining the nature of Ross’s defection was a worthy goal, but not what was most important just now. The problem was that Ross had been trained to resist this kind of questioning, and Evan wasn’t willing to resort to the kind of tactics that would be required to test the limits of that training. Worse, Ross knew it. He was already captured. No real chance of escape. What reason would he have to cooperated? Especially if this altered version of him understood that it would - sooner or later - resort in the return of Ross’s original personality. This altered version might even view such an end as something worse than death. Evan needed some kind of leverage. :: Pren: =/\= Garuda to Delano =/\= :: Evan’s concentration broke as the voice of one of Mei’konda’s operations officers came over the comm. He walked back to where he’d left his jacket, careful not to take his eyes off Ross as he bent to answer the call. He squeezed his badge between thumb and forefinger, and the familiar chirp signaled a connection. :: Delano: =/\= Go ahead. =/\= Pren: =/\= Sir, I don’t know how to say this but… =/\= :: Evan’s stern expression decayed into a frown, while Ross watched him intently. :: Delano: =/\= What’s wrong, Ensign? Pren: =/\= ::After a delay,:: I’m sorry, Sir.. It’s Commander Mei’konda. You-you’re listed as his next of kin, and we didn’t know if we should wait. =/\= :: Evan’s heart dropped into his stomach as he realized what the younger officer was implying. A wave of conflicting emotions washed over him as unbidden image of a dead or dying Mei’konda entered his mind. His emotional control - always tenuous - buckled, as his voice shook in its reply. :: Delano: =/\= What happened? =/\= Pren: =/\= No details, yet, Sir. He’s been admitted into Astrofori One’s emergency department. We were told to contact you. =/\= :: Evan nodded, mild relief ebbing at the flurry of emotions threatening to wash him away. He was alive then. After a moment, he realized he needed to say something. :: Delano: =/\= Understood…=/\= Pren: =/\= Sir, I… they said you should get down there right away. =/\= :: Evan swallowed hard, sparing a brief glance for Ross as tears welled up in his eyes. :: Delano: =/\= Fine. Delano out. =/\= :: He let the jacket fall back to the floor as he stood back to his full height. One tear, then a second left damp trails down pale cheeks. The expression he wore was not one of grief, however. :: Ross: Oh dear. That does sound unfortunate. :: Evan took a slow step towards Ross, as if he were uncertain of which direction he wanted to walk. :: Delano: You… you had something to with this. :: It wasn’t asked as a question, but Ross answered it anyway, with a shrug and an amused smile. :: Ross: I have been known to do terrible things. Ask Quinn. :: Evan took another step towards his former first officer, visible rage now rippling through the muscles of his clenched jaw. The fingers of his right hand were clenched into a tight fist. Ross' amusement did not waver, even as dark stains of sweat caused by the oppressive heat began to seep through his clothing.:: Delano: ::Coldly,:: What did you do? Ross: Oh, Evan. What possible advantage is there to telling you that? :: Evan considered that for a long moment before he gave the obvious answer. :: Delano: None. :: The Cardassian guard on the other side of the forcefield could tell something was wrong, but he hadn’t taken any action to interfere. Evan gave him a warning look, then turned back to Ross. There was a way to get everything he needed. A way to find out exactly what he’d done to Mei’konda and why. A way to punish him for it. And everything else the man had done. :: :: As he crossed the remaining distance between himself and Ross, a part of Evan's mind screamed for him to stop and think. In that moment, he couldn’t have said for sure whether that scream was real or imagined. Nevertheless, the decision was made, and the rage and grief and frustration that had overwhelmed him intended to see it through. :: :: Evan had only been in a mind meld three times in his life, but he had studied the process extensively as a child, and again, more recently, as he considered learning to use his Vulcan abilities. Performing a meld without injuring both participants required incredible discipline and control. However, that didn’t mean a meld under other circumstances was impossible. And at that moment, Evan didn’t care whether he or Ross would survive. :: :: In one swift motion, he took Ross to the ground. The man was undeniably skilled -- and surprisingly strong -- but after a short and vicious struggle that left them both bloodied and bruised, Evan had him pinned. :: Ross: ::Snarling,:: Don't you dare-- :: Evan gripped Ross’s face in both hands, fingers sliding into place against the key nerves that would allow Evan access to the other’s mind. In a traditional meld, Evan would have been careful and deliberate, a thin tendril brushing against the surface of the man’s mind. Here, Evan threw everything he was at the man: raw anger and frustration compounded by a sense of desperate need. One way or another, this would end here. :: -- Lieutenant Commander Evan Delano Chief of Security/Tactical USS Garuda & Harrison Ross Captive Ne'er Do Well
  22. ((Small Town near Remote Industrial Facility, Zakdorn)) ::Aldur Inkaral mopped his brow and took another sip of the stew. Excellent, it was progressing as expected. Although, there was just a tinge of something . . . Ah, balroot, that was it. Just a little too much balroot. He adjusted the recipe in his head slightly to compensate, mentally weighing the different aromatic properties of the herbs at his disposal to find the one that would mask it. There could be no minor imperfections in this stew. Today was Minar's 11th birthday and he would ensure that she had her favorite stew just the way she liked it. Nodding decisively he reached into the storage unit and plucked a leaf off one of the bunches of herbs. He smelled it carefully to ensure its suitability, then frowned. He threw it away in disgust, but, no, it wasn't the leaf that smelled. He glanced down at his stew, horrified, but that wasn't it either. The window was open in a bid to attract customers, as the shift up at the complex would be ending soon. Aldur got up and walked heavily to the window and looked out to see a huge plume of smoke rising from one corner of the complex.:: ::He froze for a moment, unable to think. Then, no. No, no, no, there was nothing wrong. There was no fire. It was just a test. Yes. Aldur wasn't sure exactly what they got up to in that complex, and he didn't need to. That was for the really bright people to know, and he was fine leaving it at that. But Minar should have informed him if there was going to be something awful looking like that. She wouldn't have wanted him to worry. Then again, she was only a child. An extraordinarily gifted child, to be sure. She got that from her mother. But a child nonetheless. They must simply have not told her about this test, or drill, or whatever nonsense they were pulling today. But it was nothing to worry about, he was sure. He almost convinced himself, almost turned away. It couldn't possibly be . . . But now he could hear the warning sirens, and now there were people exiting the complex. Not in the cheerful saunter of people getting off work and looking for dinner, but a rushing mob, shoving each other to get away. :: ::Aldur felt the dread rise in his chest. That fear was always lurking whenever Minar was at work, that something would happen and he wouldn’t be able to get to her, might not even know about it. Now it reared its head and tore at his heart. He threw open the door and rushed out, hobbling up the road as best he could. Luckily the fastest runners from the complex came level with him quickly, and he grabbed one of their arms, trying to pull the man aside to beg an explanation. He pulled away and bent over in a coughing fit, but it didn't matter. The panicked look on his face told enough of the story. Another runner coughed and collapsed in a heap in the middle of the road.:: ::He looked up at the black plume hanging in the sky and for a moment stood petrified with horror at the thought he couldn't even bring himself to think. Slowly he moved one foot, then the other, and then he was running, too, he didn't know how, but he was running towards the complex and he had to get to Minar, had to get her out, but then someone reached out and grabbed him and he spun around, stumbled, and sat down hard on the edge of the road. :: ::He couldn't see clearly. There was a face hovering in front of his, but he couldn't make it out through the veil of . . . tears? No, they couldn't be tears, he couldn't be crying. Minar was fine, he just had to get to her, just hold her and make sure. He scrubbed his fist across his face and looked up at the person kneeling in front of him. Rican. A good friend, and one of the guards at the complex. He looked up and realized he’d made it as far as the gates. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. She merely moved his hands away and stared at him worriedly. :: Inkaral: Minar! Did you see her? Where is she? Rican: Aldur, listen, you can’t go in there. ::Aldur wasn’t listening, he pushed her away and scrambled back up, walking towards the open gates as fast as he could make his legs go.:: Inkaral: I have to find Minar. Rican: You know that isn’t true. Listen to yourself. You can barely breathe now, you won’t survive the smoke in there. Think! ::He stopped and spun to glare at her. It wasn’t a very powerful glare, since he immediately bent over, clutching his knees and letting out a sob. He tried to compose himself, blinked more tears away and peered up at her from beneath the wisps of hair currently falling into his eyes. She glared back at him more effectively with steely grey eyes and pursed lips, auburn hair hanging limply in the still air. Unable to answer without his voice cracking, he took a moment to think for the first time since he looked out the window. Out the window . . . of his restaurant . . . where the stove was still on. Wide-eyed, he forced himself back upright and peered over Rican’s shoulder at the second little plume of smoke there. Rican looked around as well, and threw up her hands, presumably in disgust. Aldur hung his head, trying to think clearly through the despair flooding his brain. He looked to Rican, conviction written plainly across his face.:: Inkaral: I have to get in there. I have to find her. Rican: ::with a sigh:: Go home. Your restaurant is on fire. People will be panicking. ::she shook her head:: Aldur, you’ve never been the most reasonable person. ::Aldur nodded once, reluctantly, not meeting her eyes. He knew it wasn’t reasonable. He’d never been any good at tactics and reasonable decision making. That was why he was running a restaurant that was barely keeping afloat while his daughter supported them working on whatever top secret business they did up at the complex. If he’d just done better on the tests, he could have been the one working up there, and she wouldn’t be trapped in a burning building. And there it was, he’d finally admitted it. It was possible, of course, that she’d made it out, was just with a different group of people. But to the terrified core of his being, in the cold stone lump of fear that had been his heart a few minutes ago, he knew she was still in there.:: Inkaral: I have to make sure she’s okay. ::His voice was weaker now, lacking conviction. Some small portion of his brain was going ahead without him and mapping out a series of plans unclouded by fear. He felt betrayed by his own mind, but was powerless in the face of cold reason.:: Rican: There is help coming, qualified help. You won’t make it five steps inside. Go home. Make food for people. You understand that, if nothing else, so go do what you are capable of doing. ::Aldur bowed his head, defeated, and turned away. He spoke without looking back at her.:: Inkaral: Find her. Please. ::He walked slowly back down the road, putting one foot in front of the other. Nothing to do but keep moving. There were people swarming the shop and already that little fire was beginning to die out. But there would be no stew tonight, and no birthday. Just for tonight, though. Minar would be home and safe tomorrow. Clinging desperately to that conviction, he raised his head high, set his chin. He made it all the way back to the restaurant, to the blackened kitchen and the ruined pot of charcoal on the stove. Then he collapsed on the floor, buried his head in his hands and wept.:: =========================================================== MSPNPC Aldur Inkaral Chef ~as simmed by~ Ensign Mpeba - Engineering Officer, USS Darwin NCC-99312-A ===========================================================
  23. ((Sassi Kax's Quarters, USS Doyle))((Time skip to docking at DS285)) :: Sassi's alarm went off as it always did, and Sassi threw the small retro alarm clock at the wall. Thankfully it was made of plastic and wasn't easily broken, clearly she had forgotten to turn it off the night before. Sassi's head hurt like hell from the killer hangover. Well to be fair, that's what happens when she and Bam Bam drink together. Same things happens with Seff, though the three of them used to drink together. Seff was supposed to be at the drinkfest, but no, she had herself locked up on DS285. :: Kax: Computer how close are we to DS285? Computer: We are docking now. Kax: Good, Bam Bam, wake up! :: Sassi got up off the bed and saw the pink Pelian slowly open her eyes. Bam Bam looked as bad as Sassi did, but that was no surprise. Sassi replicated dug around in a box to find her favorite tshirt and jeans and then went to restroom to change. :: Bam: Bam Bam up already... :: Once Sassi was all dressed she came back out to find Bam Bam on the couch eating a plate of nachos. Sassi looked at Bam Bam and smiled. They were flat out crazy and sorely hungover, but neither of them cared. :: Kax: Enjoying the Nachos? Bam: Bam Bam always enjoys nachos! :: Sassi smiled at Bam Bam. It was highly typical of the pink Pelian to cure a hangover with a plate of overly cheesy tortilla chips. It may seem like a wacko hangover food, but it seemed to work for her, Sassi found herself thinking food might be a good idea, but she needed to get Seff first. :: Kax: Alright, let yourself out, I have to go rescue Seff from my parents. Bam: Bam Bam meet you both at the Wagon Wheel after? :: There it was, the invitation to get food, sounded perfect to Sassi. Sassi couldn't help but smile, that Pelian could cheer up just about anyone if she tried. :: Kax: Sounds good to me Bam Bam. See you then. Bam: Bam Bam see you then! :: With the ship now fully docked, Sassi left Bam Bam alone to finish her Nachos and made her way off the Doyle to DS285's brig. The one place she would be greeted by her parents and Seff. :: -- Lt. Sassi Kax Tactical Officer USS Doyle A NCC-80221-A
  24. (( Corridors outside Bishop's Quarters, Deck 2, USS Doyle-A )) :: Selene knew that Alex had asked her out for drinks, but she needed an adventure. She had a holodeck program that she created when she had time on the Constitution, a mix of adventure and scenery. Relaxing through holodeck programs was the way she destressed, but her choice programs had changed through the years. She hoped he wouldn't mind. :: :: Before she had made her way to his quarters, she dressed in a comfortable sports bra, some capri pants and a pair of ankle high boots with good grip. She had packed a backpack with some rope, climbing equipment, a couple bottles of water and some other refreshments. The program may have been designed by her, but she did have an aversion to replicated foods and drinks, when she could afford to. :: ::Alex was quietly relaxing, listening to some Jazz, very similar to what had been popularized in the mid 1900s on Earth. He found the complexities of the music to be something quite unmatched in almost any other form of music. It was like chaos and order woven together into a tapestry unlike any other. :: :: As she got to his door, she buzzed and waited. :: Bishop: Hello? Who is it? Faranfey: It's Selene. :: Alex was suddenly excited, this was very unexpected. He remembered asking her out, but hadn’t really set a date. In his mind, her remembering and taking initiative was a very promising thing. He quickly stood up from his chair and half ran to the door. :: Bishop: I’ll be right there. :: The doors opened, and she stepped inside. :: Faranfey: I know you planned on getting me drunk on our second date, but if you don't mind, I would prefer to show you a holodeck program. :: Alex looked at the way she was dressed. He tried not to stare, but it was hard not to because of how attracted to her he was. He himself was in a polo style shirt and jeans. He felt almost a little overdressed for whatever she had in mind based on what she was wearing. :: Bishop: You will find, I can be flexible when needed. :: He smiled. :: What did you have in mind? :: She placed the bag down, and opened it, showing him the rope and climbing gear. :: Faranfey: We're going to get a bit sweaty, but the climb will be worth the destination. Bishop: I guess I need to change clothes then. I can’t say I’ve been climbing before, so you might have to help me a little bit. Faranfey: I'll help wherever I can, but make sure your shoes have a grip, you don't want them to slip. :: Alex left the front room of his quarters and into his bedroom where all of his clothes were and found a t-shirt and some hiking boots and quickly changed. :: Bishop: How does this look? :: Alex really hoped he picked appropriate clothing. It’s hard to match up with a sports bra as a guy. :: Faranfey: As long as you can move around. Ideally shorts work better than pants, but, there's the problem of inexperience. Well... If I am honest, experienced climbers can scrape up their knees too, hence my pants go past my knee. :: Pulling the backpack over her shoulder, she stepped towards the door, the journey to the holodeck would take a few minutes, it was on deck five, not too far away from their workplace. :: Bishop: I will just have to make due. I’ll go with the added protection. (( Transit, USS Doyle-A )) :: As they stepped in the turbolift, she called out the deck, before turning her attention back to him. :: Faranfey: What activities do you enjoy in your down time? Bishop: I enjoy jazz and classical music and I read a lot. I also have a few chess games that I play remotely with some friends that I went to medical school with. :: As the words poured out of his mouth, he suddenly seemed dull even to himself. :: But I think that this is something I should definitely try. What about you? Faranfey: When I was younger I enjoyed quite a number of adventurous activities... However, the past twenty years had dulled that for me. This, while considered adventurous, is also meditative. Bishop: Yeah, not so sure about that meditative bit there. Something about falling off of the side of a 2500 foot cliff face doesn’t make me feel that calm… :: Alex was looking forward to spending time with Selene. He had a few misgivings about rock climbing, but there was no reason he couldn’t try something new. After all, it was time he was allowed to spend with her while off duty. :: ((Holodeck 2 - Deck 5)) :: They stood outside of the holodeck and Alex waited for Selene to start up her program. Selene input a few commands into the holodeck computer and the doors opened. :: :: In they stepped, it was twilight, there was light coming from above the fog on the ground. There was a lantern at their feet, showing light a few meters in any direction. The door closed behind them and she wondered momentarily if Alex regretted joining her. But the scenery at the top of mountain, if some people would call it a mountain, was beautiful. That was where they were going, and now she needed to get her bearings. :: Bishop: Impressive. It looks like you have spent some time getting all of the little details done just the way you wanted them. The fog is a nice touch. Faranfey: I use this program to relax, I know you don't think a climb with the possibility of falling, is very relaxing, but it's not the climb, it's the view. :: Selene picked up the lantern, and raised it high, looking for a small faint light that would lead the way. They would need to maneuver past some rock bases, on the way to the mountain, and the path was dimly lit. The lights coming from below would ruin the view from above, so it was just enough light to lead them in the right direction. :: Bishop: Is there anything about the program I should be concerned about? Faranfey: Safeties are on, while there is a possibility of scratching your knees, falling won't hurt you badly. Bishop: Ok, so scratches and bruises, maybe a sprain, but probably no broken bones. Got it. I might need to seek medical attention from a certain doctor when we’re done here though. :: He winked at her as he said the last part. :: :: She reached for Bishop's hand, and followed the dimly lit path, pulling him forward. Their journey weaved through rock formations through the fog, until she stopped at the base of one. Removing her backpack, she grabbed the climbing equipment, and attached a harness to herself, before handing one to Bishop. She attached the lantern to her harness, and put the backpack on her back again. :: Faranfey: The climb isn't straight up, but this is the way to get to the path. :: Alex looked at the harness, and while he could probably figure out how to attach it himself after watching Selene do it, he had a better idea in mind. :: Bishop: You might have to help put this on me. I’ve never worn one of these before and it looks pretty complex. I wouldn’t want to put it on wrong and have you laugh at me. :: Alex was a little impressed with his idea and looked forward to the feel of her hands on him. :: :: Selene rolled her eyes, he had to be goofing with her. There was little complexity to actually putting the harness itself on, it needed to be snug, but it was the connection to the rope that was the more complicated thing. :: Faranfey: Surely you know how to put on a belt? Bishop: I do… But I’ve never put on a harness like this before. What if I do it wrong? :: He grinned. :: :: Selene was sure at this point that he was definitely messing with her, especially given the grin on his face. She hoped he wasn't going to be this difficult the whole way through, as she unbuckled the harness. :: Faranfey: The larger loop goes just above your hips, like so... :: She stretched the loop out and reached behind him with her right hand, holding the harness, and leaned against him for a moment as she wrapped her left arm around him, grabbing the loose end of the loop, before pulling it around. Once both ends were in front, she bent down a little, to make sure she was fastening it securely. :: :: Alex was having a very hard time concentrating on how Selene was attaching the harness. He made a mental note that he hoped he would remember tomorrow morning, to figure out how to do this for the next time she invited him climbing. He was fairly certain she wouldn’t let him get away with this a second time. :: Bishop: Ok… :: It was all he could muster the strength to say without betraying his current thought process. :: Faranfey: The smaller ones go high on your thighs and fasten on the inside. They even have easy to fasten connectors. :: Selene took a step back to let Alex fasten the thigh belts. :: :: Alex recovered enough to take over and fasten the thigh belts like Selene indicated. He probably should have felt a little ashamed at his behaviour during this process, but he had enjoyed it just a little too much. :: Bishop: Any suggestions on how to do this safely? :: Alex was a little less intimidated having seen the actual size of the hill they were climbing. It was more a hill than a mountain. He wasn’t sure why he had initially imagined a sheer cliff face stretching thousands of feet above them. He wasn’t sure why he thought in absolutes when it came to Selene, but when she said it was a bit of a climb and had a backpack full of climbing gear, he expected much worse than what he ended up seeing. :: Faranfey: Just watch me. :: Selene reached for the rope that was anchored at the top, and attached it to her harness before she took hold of the rocks on the hill, and started climbing. Every few steps she would tighten the rope so that if she fell, she wouldn't fall too far. :: :: The climb was rather uneventful, mostly Alex following Selene’s lead on where to grasp and where to step. :: :: Once they reached the top, Selene helped Alex up the last few feet of it before removing her backpack and plopping down on the grass at the very top. While it wasn't a mountain by any definition, the hill wasn't tiny, so it came out of the fog and they could see over it. This was the location Selene wanted to take Alex to see. The light from the double moons above shone down on them and lit up the fog below, which had a purple black hue, and a number of rocks rising from it. Once the fog cleared the view below was spectacular. The light showed the valley below, revealing the rock formations that they weaved through on the way to the hill. Looking further to the east, there was a large clearing not too far from the base of the hillside that housed a lake. :: Bishop: Wow! This is a great view. How often do you come here? :: Leaning back, she looked up at the double moons, they were programmed to be different each time she came in, this time one was full and the other was half. Everything she had programmed had been part of one world that she had been able to explore, briefly, while her ship hid in the a crater of a nearby moon to make repairs. It was a rare beauty that she couldn't recall the location of anymore. :: Faranfey: Whenever I need to reflect on the day, and relax. The climb lets me release any frustrations I might have, and the view fills me with a serene feeling. Bishop: We should go swimming some time. I enjoy that. oO Of course, we didn’t bring swimsuits, but I don’t mind if you don’t. Oo :: Selene looked down at the lake, she used to enjoy the water greatly when she was younger. She hadn't made time to enjoy it as much since then, it was rare when she did. It wasn't the visibility of her battle scars that kept her from the water, she was wearing a sports bra, so a good number of them were visible. It was the just the memories and the loneliness. How could she be afraid of water now, when she wasn't afraid of the Hunger, or coming back in time to stop them? :: Faranfey: Maybe... :: She looked at him, the last couple days making her think. :: I am curious why you haven't asked any more about my past. You met Sun, and have had an opportunity to work with her, surely you are curious. Bishop: Well, your situation isn’t something that everyone knows about, so it’s not really a subject I can just casually bring up. The times I have thought about asking you, we were standing in the middle of Sickbay surrounded by people I don’t think know the details. But, since we’re alone. What does Sundassa think? :: At this point, she laid down on the grass and looked at the stars and moons above. She wanted to tell him more about her past, since it was certain to her that he was interested in her. There wasn't much point in holding back information that made her who she was. :: :: Alex laid down in the grass next to Selene. He got pretty close, but not touching. Still unsure just how close he could get. He looked up at the night sky and the moons and tried to see if he could recognize any star clusters to pinpoint the basis for the landscape and correlate that to any planets. Not that he had any real chance of doing that. His astrometrics skills were horrible. :: Faranfey: I am not sure what she thinks of me, but she knows everything. I didn't do her any real favors having come back, and she still is friendly towards me. Bishop: In the brief time I’ve gotten to know Sundassa, it’s no wonder why she is friendly. I think she would be friendly towards anyone that wasn’t in any way trying to keep her from doing her job as a doctor. Why would you think she would be any different? Faranfey: I changed how things were supposed to go, which was the point. The consequences weren't what I expected though, as her relationship with her fiance, fell apart. :: Perhaps it was the differences in how the love was lost. Perhaps, Sun realized it wasn't meant to be if it was ripped away from her such an unnatural way that it would leave her coming back in time to stop it. :: Bishop: Well, I met the guy briefly. I can say I didn’t like him all that much. He seemed very distant and unfriendly. Faranfey: I'm glad I came back, despite that. My crew and I were able to prevent a species from destroying the universe, a species I fought for nearly twenty years, since I suffered a similar loss. Now, I suppose I am getting a chance to live again. :: Selene looked up at Alex, and smiled a rare and genuine smile, before sitting up. She hoped she wasn't being too presumptuous, but it had been something she hadn't done in some time, so she was out of practice when she leaned forward and kissed him. :: :: Alex was still laying in the grass. He wrapped his arms around Selene and pulled her closer as he returned the kiss. He stopped for a moment and put in his thought. :: Bishop: I wouldn’t say “live again”, I would say “continue living”. :: As Alex pulled her close again to continue the kiss, the sensation of his lips against hers sent a tingling reaction through her, something she hadn't felt in a long time. Since her time in this timeline, there was little need for her to be in attack mode, or on edge, and she felt safe on her brother's ship under his command. But this was the first time that she truly let down her defenses. :: TBC ~ Lt Alexander Bishop Chief Medical Officer USS Doyle-A, NCC-90221-A Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this post are those belonging the character, and not the author. (Except maybe this time) & PNPC Lieutenant Selene Faranfey Medical Officer Simmed by: Captain Shelther Faranster Commanding Officer USS Doyle-A, NCC-80221-A Assistant Statistician, Starbase 118 Academy
  25. ((Sickbay, USS Doyle)) ::It looked like it was still early in Sickbay’s day cycle, that or the whole staff had partied a bit too much the night before to unwind from the mission, and was still recovering, Myrta thought .:: ::She had decided to make this her first stop of the day, she wasn’t fonder of physicals than the average fleeter, and hers always tended to run on the long side. :: oO Best get this done and over with, I just hope someone here knows what albinism is Oo ::Hers wasn’t distrust in Bishop’s professionalism. The condition nowadays was rarely seen in children or adults, it was almost invariably discovered through pre-natal diagnosis and corrected in-womb stimulating the production of tyrosinase, which, in turn, caused production of melanin; but during the early stages of her mother’s pregnancy they had been touring some fringe colonies, recently established outposts where such advanced treatments weren’t available. Which also meant that Myrta was mightily tired of having to explain the ins and outs of living with albinism to an ever-changing group of medical professionals. :: :: After a short wait, she called out, voice pitched to carry but not loud :: Myrta: Doctor Bishop? :: Hearing his name, he set the PADD down on his office desk and walked out into Sickbay. He wasn’t expecting anyone this early. :: Bishop: Hello? Myrta: It’s Ensign Shirazi, I called yesterday for my physical Bishop: oO I wasn’t expecting her this early. Oo It’s a pleasure to meet you. If you’ll follow me, we can get this done quickly. I’m certain it will be painless. ::Following the voice she went deeper into sickbay:: :: Alex lead the way to a private room where he could conduct the physical. Although physicals didn’t require to get undressed, he still found that some patients want to talk more privately about anything that they might have medical concerns about, and doing so privately helped to accommodate those conversations, rather than hinder them. :: Bishop: I’ll just run a quick bio-scan and check against your past medical history, then if you feel you need to bring up any concerns, feel free to do so. Myrta :: Nodding:: Thank you doctor. oO Is this the grumpy guy I was warned about? Wish all doctors were like this. Oo :: Alex picked up a nearby scanner and tapped a few buttons on it and moved it over Myrta’s body. Half a minute later, it came back up with no detectable problems. As expected, there were no issues that he could detect, but something was making her feel uneasy. :: Bishop: Scans show nothing wrong. But I can tell you’re a bit nervous about something. What could be troubling you? :: Surprised, the pale woman snorted a laugh:: Myrta: It is this evident, is it? It’s nothing, really, doctor, but you are the first medical professional I recall who didn’t bat an eyelid upon seeing me, it’s… a surprise, and a pleasant change. oO Oh boy! I hope it didn’t come out like I was flirting with him Oo Bishop: Just because it’s something that our species has tried to genetically engineered out of existence, doesn’t mean the condition should be ignored. Do you have any concerns about typical issues that commonly accompany your condition? Myrta: No. my nystagmus* was corrected surgically when I was little. I have amblyopia*, of course, but I was taught ways to cope with it. ::She paused, she was forgetting something, what was it… :: Ah, yes! I do a full-body sunscreen* treatment every year as well, but the last one was just before I was assigned so I’m set till next year. Bishop: If there is anything we :: He waved to indicate Sickbay :: can help with, then feel free to let us know. I’m unfamiliar with an annual sunscreen treatment, but if you need I can look up the information. Do you find it a complex treatment? :: In truth, Alex didn’t really know much about her condition, but he would look up what information he could and become very familiar with it for any future concerns she might have. :: Myrta: No, ::she smiled:: it simplifies my life. I actually started a few years ago, before the Academy. I love swimming, you see, and I snorkel any chance I get, without the treatment it could have been a problem… ((A few minutes later)) :: Myrta thanked again the CMO and left sickbay, with a spring to her step, she liked how her appointment had gone, how doctor Bishop had asked good questions and listened to the answers, she had also liked his regard for her privacy and his professional manner in general. Yes, she nodded to herself, life on Doyle-A was shaping up to be more pleasant than at the Academy at least on this significant aspect.:: :: After she left, Alex went back to his office and started to bring up any research documents about Albinism he could find, including treating common side effects that were typically associated with it and figured he would spend what time he had over the next few days going over the research notes to become more familiar with the subject. :: Joint post by: Lt Alexander Bishop Chief Medical Officer USS Doyle-A, NCC-90221-A And Ens. Myrta Shirazi Science Officer USS Doyle-A
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