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pNPC LtJG Zel Rohan - Get This Janky Ship Moving


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This entire thing just made me laugh.

 

((IKS Yan – Unlisted Shuttebay 14))

A secret shuttlebay.  A janky old B’Rel class warbird.  Wearing his old, comfortable drifter clothing with his trusty Cardassian disruptor pistol in his boot.  Could this mission get any better?

Well yes, they could succeed, live, have a party filled with every type of egg dish imaginable and then all get to sit in hot tubs.  Separate hot tubs, probably, at least for Zel’s latinum.

The commline shrilled and he peeked his head out from underneath the helm console where he was hard at work with a laser welder, determined to get this thing performing to some degree of accuracy.  It wasn’t quite ‘turn on a dime’ but at least it was no longer ‘turn on a half a planetoid.’

McLaren: =/\= McLaren to Zel. Get the ship ready to leave... you’ve got 5 minutes. =/\=

Zel: =/\= I’ll have it ready for you in four. =/\= ::He stated with the utmost confidence:: =/\= What’s going on? =/\=

McLaren: =/\= I’m on my way to the bridge now, I'll explain when I get there. =/\=

Zel: =/\= Right on. =/\=

Ok, time to finish up his work and get things heated up.  The good thing was this was a simple system and it booted up far faster than a federation vessel of the same age.  It also had far less finesse and relied mostly on the skill of the driver to prevent the thing from flying into a sun or crashing into a StarBase.

Fortunately Zel liked to think of himself as a very good driver.

Pulling himself out from under the helm console he saw his team gather at the cramped bridge area.  Zel dusted himself off, looking every inch of a scrappy drifter. 

Looking every inch of who he was seven years ago.  But a bit more well fed and a bit less broken down.  Starfleet medical was a magical thing once he had stopped being utterly paranoid about doctors trying to kill him.

McLaren: We're launching as soon as Tony and his team are aboard.

Zel: Right on.  Hey, on the bright side I got the computer banks working with Rue’s translation program, so Merry Birthoween, you can now read your consoles and panels in Federation Common!

That was a legit holiday, right?  Zel didn’t celebrate holidays.  He just had a drink every time he didn’t die and that was celebration enough.

Blackwell/Yael/Parvana: ?

McLaren: The Cult is pushing the tempo... and they have Max too.

Zel: That doesn’t sound good.

Master of understatement, Zel Rohan was.

Blackwell/Yael/Parvana: ?

McLaren: I would have like another couple of hours, to be honest... but we dont have that luxury anymore. We'll have to finish everything else as we're in route.

Blackwell/Yael/Parvana: ?

Zel: I assuming we’re going to cloak as soon as we clear the Base’s shield array?

That might have been the only thing that was fully working on the ship when it arrived.  A bunch of things still weren’t working so hot.  Not the least of which was the air circulation system, which made the dim, cramped bridge smell keenly of Klingon farts and fermented fish.

Weapons targeting was still calibrating, though they should be able to finish that well before they reached Klingon space.  And they had a shipment of emergency rations because the replicators were at best sketchy and at worst a surefire way to a week long stay in sickbay.

Blackwell/Yael/Parvana/McLaren: ?

Zel: And we should practice who we all are on this mission.  I mean cover persona.

Zel assumed he could still go as himself.  But if Sol directed against it, he had a backup plan.

Blackwell/Yael/Parvana/McLaren: ?

~*~
tags/tbc
~*~

pNPC Lieutenant JG Zel Rohan
Helm officer
StarBase 118 Ops

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