Lost And Found (JM with USS Sentinel/Peacekeeper)

[Starbase 386 Crew]

ON: < USS Sirion ? Main Bridge - Day 3 ? 1540 hours >

Blake surveyed the Bridge as they reentered to see that it was in exactly the same state that they had left it in. Just a few seconds later the engineering team from the Sentinel beams in and the Captain relayed their orders. Blake smiled when he and his men were referenced as being armed to the teeth, because overkill has always been his motto and specialty.

The engineering team split off with one group remaining on the bridge and the other heading below. As the second group began to walk off, Blake motioned for two of his men to follow them giving them only the instruction to remain level headed and use restraint in dealing with the Borg all around them.

He then turned to the two remaining guards and ordered them to deploy at the forward and rear of the bridge. He wanted them to monitor activity around the bridge leaving the drones that were already there, for him to deal with.

OFF:

By
_________________
Lieutenant JG Blake Daggerd
Chief Tactical Officer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673

[Hawkins]

<USS Malinche, Conference Room, MD03, 1554>

Jack had moved to the conference room to get some supplies before he and Jake were due to depart for the shuttle bay. The table usually used for meetings was now covered in various supplies and tools, tricorders, phasers, food and water, anything that was needed in the ships current state.

The room was far from deserted various people standing around, coming in and out of the room, Jack was standing his hands down on the table and his eyes closed, trying to stop the spinning that the room was currently doing.

He took a deep breath and reached for the water container before taking a long drink before straightening himself, trying to remain steady, his head was still pounding and he was feeling a little disorientated, having to focus more than usual if he wanted to pay attention to any conversations.

He took the container again and pour some water into his cupped hand before splashing in on his face, the water wasn?t as chilled as he?d have liked, but it was refreshing nevertheless.

He picked up a tricorder and checked the charge on his phaser, clipping the latter to his uniform and putting the former in a bag with a selection of tools the pair might need to get to the shuttle bay.

After one last check he exited back onto the bridge to meet Quaid...

[Roberts]

<<USS Malinche, Alpha section Science Labs, 1535>>
[ON]

Regina finally reached the laboratories, only to find that there weren't many scientists inside. She reached to her commbadge and remembered that it was yet to be synchronised with new ship. How convenient. What else could go wrong?

She sighed and looked up at the ciling and lights. She felt lost, without anything to do and completely useless.

''Computer, who is Chief Science officer on this vessel?''
=/\=Liutenant Cheetara Thundera.


''Right,'' Regina smiled sarcastically at self. Like she hasn't been studying the manifest for the past day or so, that is begore the borg...
''Can you locate her?''

=/\=''Liutenant Cheetara is on the Bridge of Beta section.''

''Thank you,'' Regina said automatically and then remembered she's speaking with computer. ''Can you establish a comm link to her?''

=/\=''Affirmative.''

''Well, do it then,'' Regina barked in an unpatient way. There were days when she really hated computers.

=/\=''Unable to comply.''

''Why not?''Regina asked, being clearly annoyed. It was one of those days. She was loosing time in a chat with a computer.

=/\=''The communications pannel is fused.''

Regina really was lucky. On a new ship, no communications, no real assignment, pure joy. She strolled out of the Science labs towards the turbo lift and then waited for nothing, which was weird since she used it only a little sooner. Oh, why didn't she just stayed in the medical bay?

Turning around, she went to look for another way out. Maybe she could make it to section Beta. Well, anywhere with people would be better than here.

[OFF]

by

[Peters]

ON: <USS Malinche, Beta Section Engineering, Deck 5, Day 3, 1530>

"Sir, we have two of the modified tricorders with us. They're rigged to work as communicators. I've sent Dirland to the bridge with one, Lt. Thundera has one in the Beta Auxiliary Control, and Altin is still in Alpha Engineering modifying more."

Peters took one of the tricorders from Akios and nodded. "Good. I have a feeling we're going to need a good number of them."

"I hope not, sir."

"Any ideas what's going on with the ship? I've ruled out a direct attack by the Borg; it doesn't match any of their tactics. Beyond that, I don't know, since we can't even trust the computer to tell us what the heck is going on."

"Not really, sir," Akios said. "When the sections reconnected, Alpha Engineering automatically returned primary control to Main Engineering. The transfer of control seemed to have worked, but when things started malfunctioning and we tried to reclaim the command pathways, the computer wouldn't accept any of our authorizations. All we could do from that point was monitor basic readouts."

"If I was to guess, I'd lean towards some kind of invasive program getting loose in beta section, and then spreading throughout the ship when we reconnected. It's not a firm conclusion though; for an invasive program, its effects seem kind of random, though so far the warp cores don't seem to have been affected. You don't suppose this might be a leftover contingency program from when Mr. Abubakar was trying to escape from the ship, do you? If its purpose is to sow chaos without destroying the ship that matches pretty well with what I've seen."

"Hrm..." Peters thought about that for a moment before responding. "I don't think so, as we gave the computer system, and anything Abubakar had so much as looked at a pretty thorough scan and reprogramming. It COULD be an invasive program of some sort... or it could simply be a massive systems failure at some critical juncture in the computer memory banks. Without the computer running it could take hours to figure it out..."

Peters' ruminations were interrupted by Captain Kersare's voice coming over his tricorder. "Peters here, Captain," he responded, "We're not entirely sure what all's damaged yet, but we're working on keeping critical systems online and repairing what's already gone offline. And before anyone up there asks, I have no repair time estimates at this point."

After a couple more moments Peters was able to end his conversation with the captain and turn back to Akios. "Alright, Ensign, let's put that big brain of yours to use. I have a diagnostic running on the computer, at least, if I can believe the computer, and I have just about everyone that wasn't in the Alpha section on damage control. I want you to brainstorm some ideas for what might have caused this and possible solutions. I'll be trying to figure out where, exactly, the failures started occurring."

"Yes sir, I'll get right on it." When he was dismissed, Akios went looking for an Engineering tricorder.

<Beta Section Engineering, 1552 hours>

Peters looked up from his console and groaned. "None of this makes any sense at all. The only thing I can tell is that the malfunctions started after we reconnected. The only problems in Beta section were some variances in the Navigational deflector before that. Mere moments after docking there was a power surge, shipwide, and then everything started going haywire. And now my diagnostic claims to be complete when it's less than half the time it would take to finish it with a normally operating computer, Gamma Section apparently still thinks it's flying independently, and god only knows what the rest of the ship is trying to tell me. Any luck on your end, Akios?"

The Aurelian had gotten back only a few minutes before, and when he'd arrived, he'd had a portable breathing mask around his neck, his uniform looked wet, and he'd been carrying a modified environment suit. Apparently he'd had to go further than expected for that tricorder.

"I might have something, sir. I've been taking readings on nearby decks, and I noticed something a little off. At the hull interstice between beta and gamma sections, I detected a graviton variance between the upper and lower hull surfaces. That suggested beta section might have run into something that produced a strong, localized gravitational surge. I kept looking and found other graviton variances throughout the rear quarter of
beta section."

"I think that beta section might have run into a cluster of dark matter bodies that may have become entangled with its artificial gravity field. Their sensors, both external and internal, should have detected it though. Maybe some side effect of the nebula or our modifications to compensate for it masked them. And that doesn't explain why the rest of the ship was affected so dramatically, unless... I hesitate to say this, sir, but if a dark matter mass just happened to intersect one of the primary EPS conduits just as the sections were joining, its gravitational effects could have produced a plasma surge at exactly the moment when the ship's systems were expecting normal fluctuations due to the system reconnection. I know it's a billion to one shot, but it fits the sensor readings. If it happened at exactly the right moment, the ship's systems would be biased towards staying online in response to expected minor fluctuations, instead of reacting normally and protecting systems against abnormal fluctuations. And if it did--the power surge could have affected systems that normally would be protected against such surges; command subsystems, priority systems like life support, maybe even the computer's active memory buffer..."

"And if it did get to the memory buffer, all active commands and data would have been scrambled... Which would cause the computer to act erratically because of faulty commands," Peters' eyes widened. "Ensign, you're a genius!"

"Thank you sir, but all I'm really good at is putting together odd events into a coherent story. Occupational hazard of writers. I still think some kind of sabotage is more likely. Just haven't found it yet."

Peters started to tap his commbadge, then caught himself and reached for the modified tricorder. "Peters to Kersare," he said quickly. "Captain, I recommend a complete shutdown and restart of the main computer."

Akios stepped over to another console and brought up the ODN system display. If Peters was right, the reboot would take care of the problem. If he wasn't...copies of an invasive program might hide out in secondary subsystems. If it began re-infecting systems after the reboot, he might be able to track the activity.

OFF:

A JP with:

Ensign Turu'asta Akios
Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B

[Masterson]

OOC ? This post is concurrent to the teams from the Sentinel operating on the bridge, however, the time relative to Will is unknown.

ON:

<USS Sirion, Personal Quarters, Time: unknown>

Will was still hungry, even after the ration bar that he had eaten, but that was how he felt all the time now. As the time wore on, he began to lose hope that anyone would find him except the Borg drones that were wandering the corridors of the ship that had once been full of a Starfleet crew. Figuring that he didn?t have much time left, he decided to try and take his mind off things by writing a letter home, not that it would ever get there, as the Borg would simply destroy it upon discovery.

He looked up again at the gasses that seethed outside his window and was startled to see the faint image of the ship that he had seen earlier. Instead of disappearing this time, it remained, faint and almost unbelievably distant. For a moment, Will was ready to write it off as another mirage brought on by stress, but then he wondered. If there was a ship up there, and Starfleet was investigating, then it was possible that they would be sending an away team over to investigate, or already had. In that case, he needed to find a way to communicate with them somehow.

Setting the padd aside, he went over to his desk and took a seat. Tentatively, with a twinge of fear, he activated the control panel. Surprisingly, it came to life at his touch. He paused for a moment, holding his breath, and listened. When he didn?t hear any indication of new Borg activity, he let it out and thought about his next step. If a Starfleet away team was on board, they would go for one of the vital areas. Since it was a sure bet that main engineering had already been assimilated, Will decided that he would have to try to find a way to send some sort of message to the bridge.

Carefully, he started with very simple, basic commands, pausing each time to listen for possible Borg reactions. In order to stay ?under the radar? of the Borg, Will figured that the best thing to do was to look for a non-vital system that he could use in some form of communication. Then it hit him, the Sirion had been carrying special geological survey equipment for their mission on Direidi. Most of it was stored in one of the cargo bays, but he had had to make some modifications to one of the bridge consoles to be able to interface with the said equipment. It was unlikely that the Borg had deemed that particular system worthy of assimilation yet and were paying it little heed. If he could somehow tap into the modifications and use them to convey a message, he might be able to contact anyone who would be near that particular bridge console.

Immediately, he set to work, making sure to take the time to avoid arousing the attention of the drones. Every so often, he would stop and listen to see if anything had changed. After some time, he had managed to tap into the auxiliary bridge console that he had been thinking of. What he could do with that ability, however, was quite limited due to the power situation. His best bet was to keep it simple. Even though his skills were a little rusty, he decided to try Morse Code, hoping that someone would see the console flashing. With that, he began to repeat three long signals, three short signals, and three more long ones; SOS. All he could do now, was wait.

OFF

[Starbase 386 Crew]

<Shuttle, USS Malinche Hull, MD03, 1605>

The helmet let out a slight hiss as it was sealed to the top of the EVA suit, Samas looked at the controls on his wrist, checking that all the readings were within guidelines before he turned to Rhys, ?I?ve got the picnic,? he said waving his tool box, ?You all set Monroe??

Rhys muttered something under his breath as he slipped his helmet on and secured it, still wishing they could have just used the shuttle?s phasers to add a slight decorative portal in the doors of the shuttlebay. As it was, he was instead pressurizing an EVA suit and pressing the controls of the outer hatch.

The computer signalled that the decompression sequence was complete, Samas then pressed the door controls and the shuttles door lowered to form a ramp to the hull. The view was breathtaking, the side of the Malinche?s engineering hull stretched out in front of them, the two port nacelles jutting into the sky, partially obscured by the fog of the Nebula that surrounded them on all sides and was now working its way in through the open door.

Rhys looked down at the hull of the Malinche. ?I need a paint brush,? he said, smirking slightly and following Samas towards the shuttlebay doors.

?I don?t have one in my box of tricks, besides I don?t think the captain would like a grinning mouth on their hull...well, she might...? He reached for the controls on his thighs and magnetised his boots, knowing as soon as they stepped onto the ramp the shuttles gravity plating would no longer have an effect on them.

Rhys followed suit, listening to the ?shh-thunk!? of the boots being drawn down. He de-magnetized and re-magnetized the boots several time, listening to the sound over and over, like a kid who had just discovered the joys of taking a saucepan to the kitchen floor. He grinned sheepishly at the quizzical look from Samas. ?Sorry,? he said with a grin.

The pair stepped onto the ramp, their footfalls preceded by a slight pulling sensation as the magnets held them to the hull.

?There?s a docking port near the main deflector.? Samas said into the helmets comm. system and motioned round the shuttle, doing so he caught sight of the Sentinel through the fog, its form was distorted but he could make out the rough shape and the glow from their warp nacelles, he looked round and saw the Sirion too, darkened in the nebula, no glow from the nacelles and listing to the side.

?Man, that pilot on the Sirion knows some serious manoeuvres; he?s listing to the side!? Rhys said dryly. He looked around, shoving down the knowledge that a thin space suit separated him from the vastness of space and no more cheese ever. ?C?mon, I don?t like the weather out here. Let?s get up to that docking port, before we have to crawl in through a torpedo tube.? He and Samas started walking towards the deflector, the ?CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!? of the boots heard through the suits, though no sound was made in the air-less vacuum they travelled through.

?I still say we should have given the Malinche a nice evil smile while we?re out here, though I suppose that would look silly when she goes all schitzo and splits into three different ships.? Rhys looked thoughtful.

?Well just make sure at the court martial that I had nothing to do with it... hold on, does Lange know about the eyes??

?Of course he does,? Rhys said coolly. ?Who else do you think would have ordered they be painted a sensible color? When I first put them on, they were lime green and hot pink.? Rhys smiled at the memory.

?You know,? he added after a moment, ?It?s a shame there?s not any windows down here, otherwise we could just knock and have someone open the door. Or knock and say ?Ever get the feeling you?re being watched???

?Nah, they?d probably think we were just here to sell them something, those door-to-door Ferengi just don?t give up...?

?Oh!? Rhys said suddenly. ?Hang on a second. Lemme see your toolbox real quick.?

Slowly he handed Rhys the toolbox, ?It?s no good, there?s no cheese in there...?

Rummaging through, Rhys pulled out a mini-torch, knelt down, and fired the small device, touching it along the surface of the hull.

?Oh no....?

?Oh come on, like she?ll ever know. It?s not like I?m blowing a hole in her shuttlebay.? Rhys straightened up. Crudely etched in the hull was the declaration:

MAROT AND MONROE WERE HERE ? STARDATE 61536.6

Samas took the tool box back from the grinning Rhys, ?You know that thing you said about the torpedo tube? I don?t think it?s entering the ship through one you need to be worrying about...?

After another hundred or so metres walking in the fog the pair arrived at the docking port, Samas slowly knelt down at the access panel and released the cover to reveal a LCARs panel, he typed some commands in but was met with an error message.

?Monroe, can you access the other panel on the other side of the docking port??

Rhys walked to a panel identical to the one Samas was working on, and knelt down, opening the panel and staring at the panel. ?Okay, now what? Do I just start pressing buttons until something blows up??

?We need to release the mag-locks, I need you to hold down the release while I try and get the door open.? He reached into his tool box, unstrapped the tool he needed and sealed the box, his movements slowed by the restrictive suit. The tool was essentially a handle with a connector that would fit with the lock in his panel; once the locks were released he would insert the handle, pull it down and hopefully open the door. ?The code should be 8-9-6-3-4, then turn the mag-lock and hold it open, it might want to close itself, be warned...?

"How do you know the code when this isn?t your ship?? Rhys asked accusingly as he started pressing buttons, turned the mag-lock, and then?

?SON OF A?? came Rhys?s voice loudly over the suit-to-suit communicator.

?Well don?t say I didn?t warn ya! And you think I?d come over here without looking up the procedure for breaking in? Now come on, man up!? He said before laughing slightly.

Shaking his hand, Rhys aimed a punch with his other hand at the hull of the ship, regretting it even through the padding of the suit. Glaring, he reached down again, and repeated the process of opening the panel, punching the code, and turning the lock again, this time catching the door as it tried to snap shut again.

?Okay, I?m clear,? Rhys called.

Samas inserted the handle and gave the status monitor one last check to make sure the inner air-lock door was still sealed and then pulled hard on the handle. The was a rumbling he felt through his boots and the docking port door opened, what air was once in the airlock quickly shot through the gap in the door, he held the handle down until the door was fully open.

Rhys grinned as he and Samas walked through the open airlock.

?Hello?? Rhys called knocking on the open door. ?Would you like to buy some girl scout cookies??

?They?re chocolate chip!? Samas added as the pair entered the door. He deactivated the magnets in his boots and walked to the airlock controls.

As the door swung shut and the room began to pressurize with air, Rhys looked at Samas. ?Oh crap, I think I left the shuttle lights on.?

---

A JP by the stealthy ninjas of the Sentinel:

Lieutenant Samas Marot
Chief Operations Officer
USS Sentinel

and

Lt. Rhys Monroe
Chief of Flight Control
USS Sentinel

[Zeral]

<<USS Malinche, Sickbay, 1550 Hours, Day 3>>

Nora was beginning to feel painfully inadequate in her role as a counselor. Flitting here and there across Sickbay, she couldn?t help but feel like a fifth wheel of sorts, especially since she had only recently arrived onboard and was still trying to put names with faces. Most of the survivors she approached and spoke with were not ready to speak about their experience with the Borg. She was very much aware that it would be some time before many of them would be ready to confront such an experience. For now, they were alive, and that seemed difficult enough for some to wrap their fingers around.

Drifting over to a male survivor reclining on a biobed, Nora smiled and introduced herself. ?I?m Counselor Zelar, Chief Counselor for the Malinche. How are you feeling??

?As well as can be expected,? was his pleasant reply as he sat up to fully greet her. ?Lt. Elliot Andrews (NPC), ma?am. It?s a pleasure.? His grin was infectious and his attitude refreshing. Nora couldn?t help but grin in return.

?Welcome aboard the Malinche, Lt. Andrews. I only wish it was under happier circumstances.? Her smile softened and her dark eyes shone with compassion, an expression that many expected to find on the face of a counselor. ?Have all of your injuries been tended to??

He nodded quickly, flexing his right arm with only a little difficulty. ?One of the nurses patched my arm up pretty well. I got off easy compared to some of the other survivors I?ve seen around here.? His green eyes seemed to darken a shade, and Nora could sense pain and regret lingering just beneath the surface of his cheerful outer self. There was no need for her to press for more details. He continued without any prompting, his gaze focused just over her shoulder.

?It was a hell of a thing, Doctor. This is the second time I?ve seen the Borg face-to-face, but it doesn?t change a thing. Nothing can prepare you. When those monsters gain the upper hand, all you can do is pray to whatever god you believe in and hope that it?ll all be over quickly. To tell you the truth, I still can?t believe that I?m sitting here practically unharmed, while people I lived and worked with, friends and enemies alike, are dead. Or close to it?assimilated.? He spat the word out, and Nora could easily detect the powerful rage he felt against the Borg.

Yet it was gone as quickly as it had come, buried deep within the man until he was ready to truly confront it. His eyes focused on hers again, and he smiled pleasantly, albeit humorlessly. ?But I?m lucky to be alive, ma?am, and I won?t be forgetting that.?

She inclined her head and nodded, sighing quietly before responding, ?That?s an important thing to remember. Your fallen friends and fellow crewmembers would never wish for you to lose your joy in living. That?s the conclusion I came to when the first ship I served on faced the Borg. We mourn their loss, remember their sacrifice and choose to push forward. Sometimes that?s the only thing that we can do.?

Elliot nodded slowly, but his eyes were glazed and distant once more. Deciding it was best to leave him to his thoughts, she assured him he could speak with her whenever he liked and excused herself.


OFF

[Quaid]

<USS Malinche, Deck 8, MD03, 1620>

The hatch fell to the floor with a clatter and a foot soon stepped on to it, Jack exited into the corridor and cleared the path for Jake. The corridor was dark, illuminated only by the flashing red alert lights and the occasional flickering ceiling light, it wasn?t helping Jacks disorientation he had to admit, he turned when he heard Jake emerge from the Jefferies tube.

"Umm, didn't we pass this deck already?" Jake asked as he got to his feet and began to shine his wrist lamp up and down the corridor. Since their journey from the Bridge began, they had seen damage very similar to what they currently witnessed on several decks, they had been hit pretty badly by the dark matter. It would probably take Starbase Engineers a week to get the ship back to rights.

?It?s entirely possible; they are all blending together...? Jack took a step down the corridor but a wave of dizziness hit, causing him to stumble and meaning he had to steady himself against the bulkhead.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Jake asked as they carefully walked down the corridor. "I've seen Klingon warriors go weak at the knees with injuries like yours."

?Credit to ?em, I?m weak at the knees, elbows, wrists, hell, pretty sure even my nose is weak...?

They rounded a corner and were confronted by a sealed door to the next section, ?Well I make this locked door number 5, whose turn to play with the door panel inners and get a shock this time?? Jack extended his hand and clenched a fist for the best, tried and true, method of making this kind of decision... Rock, paper, scissors.

"You've taken enough abuse for the time being," Quaid grinned as he reached for the laser torch on his utility harness and began to use it to remove the plexiglass covering on the door controls.

As Jake worked on the panel Jack looked back down the corridor, he saw a flash of movement down an corridor that lead off the one they were on, he walked towards the movement, eventually heading round the corner, he saw a man slumped against the wall, his face turned away and a phaser wound on his chest.

Jack took the next few steps with haste, despite the dizziness, he reached the name and knelt down, as he was about the turn the head and check for a pulse the head turned itself, it was his head staring back at him. He fell backwards in shock, his heart racing and the cold sweat coming back suddenly, but when he looked again there was nothing there...

After several moments of tinkering with isolinear circuits, Quaid managed to open the door blocking their path to the Shuttlebay. He hadn't even noticed Jack had left. He looked down each passage of the corridor junction and couldn't see any sign of Hawkins. He soon began to call out the Intel officer's name.

He heard Jake call and dragged himself up, using the bulkhead to steady him, his head was spinning and his legs felt like jelly, ?I?ll be there in one second!? he called back, he took a deep breath before gingerly making his way back towards Jake and the door they needed to get through.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Quaid said as Jack finally made his way back to him. "I can't let you carry on like this..."

?I?m fine man, just a bout of nausea, once we get the shuttles comm array up I?ll head to sickbay,? he offered as much of a smile as he could, ?let?s go? he walked past Jake and patted a hand on his shoulder in an effort to be reassuring.

Quaid nodded, he wanted to protest but he was still the new kid on the block and he barely knew Hawkins. 'When it comes to the Borg, we do need all hands on deck,' his old SSWAT commander's voice rang out in his mind. He followed Jack through the door and straight ahead toward their last door, the door to the Malinche's main shuttlebay.

As they walked down the corridor Jack felt like it was twisting around in front of him, his mind was wandering back to the sight from a few minutes ago, so much so that he almost didn?t notice the banging...

The power fluctuations drove the heavy duranium doors to open and close automatically at a rapid pace, and continued to do so as the two Starfleet Officer's approached.

"The door sensors must not be picking us up, either that or they've been knocked out of alignment by the power outages, and there's no way we're risking trying to jump through..." Quaid said as he ran his tricorder over the malfunctioning door. "It'll take us 10 minutes to get around... though the jefferies tube parallel to this deck. Looks like I'll have to get Peters a drink."

Jack prepared himself mentally for another trek through the Jefferies tubes, ?Why do you owe him a drink??

"Because of this," he replied with a grin as he drew a phaser from his harness and fired at the door control panel. The computer display exploded and fizzled with sparks, however the doors had stopped opening and closing by themselves.

Jack was a little shocked, more so than he would really have been if it weren?t for the concussion, he was snapped out of it by a voice calling out to them from down the corridor...

?Well that?s an interesting technique...?

To Be Continued...

OFF:

A Joint Post by

Lt. (jg) Jonathan 'Jack' Hawkins
Acting Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B

And

[Thundera]

<<USS Malinche, Bridge, 1552, Day 3>>

"Captain, Commander, I have important news regarding what happened on the Beta Section." Cheetara spoke quickly while extending the padd to Kersare. "Apparently Ensign Morris (NPC) changed some of the algorithms and added these in. I hate to say this, but I suspect that it was sabotage."

"I hate to jump right to thinking we've been sabotaged...let me take a look." Isabel raised an eyebrow and took the PADD from Cheetara, looking over it a few minutes before handing it to Mason. "Lieutenant, I've gotten bits and pieces of information thus far as far as what happened overall, could you please brief me on what you've witnessed?"

"Well Captain, as you can see. Here are my original calculations. Now take a look here." Cheetara paused and pointed on the padd. "It appears that my algorithms have been changed. It seems very strange for them to have been changed that much from the original."

Mason raised an eyebrow as if he was a vulcan. To his knowledge he had not heard of any acts of sabatoge in over 200 years. Although at least right then and there it did seem plausible and one of the only leads they had.

"Captain, we could send a team down to the beta section with a teradine scanner. That way we could use it to scan for bio and DNA traces." Said Mason.

Isabel looked from Cheetara to Mason. She didn't like the sounds of any of this, and she wasn't sure why someone in Security would change what Cheetara had entered...especially since Ryan had been in Alpha section. Perhaps the Dark Matter and nebula had affected things in more ways than she had originally thought. Or perhaps someone had changed the algorithms and had gone into the computer and put Ryan's name in instead to cover their tracks. "With the effects of the nebula, it's hard to tell which systems have been affected, and if it is sabotage, for all we know the person who potentially changed them could have put in a different name to throw off suspicion."

?Captain, we maybe be going about this the wrong way. Nebulas have been known to have strange effects perhaps this has some that we could not anticipate. Even at current power levels we couldn?t get an accurate reading from the scanner much less any scanner now.? Said Mason.

Peters started to tap his commbadge, then caught himself and reached for the modified tricorder. "Peters to Kersare," he said quickly. "Captain, I recommend a complete shutdown and restart of the main computer."

Picking up the tricorder, Isabel replied, "Go ahead, Lieutenant. Once everything's back up and running, I want a full damage report." She'd had a bad feeling that they might need to totally restart the computer, and apparently Engineering had determined that was the case. Hopefully the systems would come back online properly...

=/\=This is Commander Hunt, we will be shutting down all systems for a complete and total restart. Please remain where you are and once power and systems have been restored all department heads please contact the bridge with a report on your departments. Hunt out.

Mason looked down at his panel watching each emergency light from all decks switch from red to green.

?Ready Captain.? Said Mason.

"As far as sabotage," Isabel said, "That will be something for Mr. Hawkins and Mr. Quaid to determine, I believe. In the meantime, we'll keep our eyes open for any other signs of sabotage. Commander, if you'd like to assist in the investigation, once it begins, please do."

?Yes Captain I would like that very much.?

Turning to Cheetara, Isabel said, "Can you fix what was done in the system?"

"I have already begun to work on correcting it Captain, the complete algorithms should be complete within the hour." Cheetara answered. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must attend to the repairs, as well as my new chief assistant science officer."

Cheetara headed over to her station after her acknowledgement. She had much work to do.

OFF: JP by

Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer

and

Commander Mason Hunt
Executive Officer

[Masterson]

ON: <<USS Sirion, Bridge, 1552, Day 3>>

Kilana walked over to Marc(NPC), "Any luck yet?"

"Well," Marc began, then heard the console beep, "You're in luck, just got the results..." He frowned slightly, "Integrity's only at 67% right now."

Sighing, Kilana walked over to Marc's console, "67%? It'll take some work to get this ship ready..not even taking into account..." her sentence faded as she looked toward the Borg.

Nisha (NPC), was working on another console off to the side, which suddenly started flashing, "Chief!"

Kilana raised an eyebrow and hurried over, "What is it?"

"The console..." The Impulse Systems Engineer stepped back from the console so Marc and Kilana could take a closer look.

"I think it's a message....Morse code - 'SOS'," Marc said, watching the pattern. He moved aside as Blake and James joined the Engineers.

"That is what we're here for...there must be someone else alive and unassimilated on the ship, assuming this isn't delayed...see if you can trace the signal," Kilana said.

Marc tapped on the console, "It seems to be coming from Deck 3, from crew quarters..." He looked over the Captain and Chief Security/Tactical Officer to see how they wanted to proceed.

Lange walked over and took a look at the console. It certainly looked like an intentional signal to him. It was too regular not to be... and the pattern seemed familiar somehow. "Can you get a more precise location on it? At least a section number?"

Blake considered the possibilities, ordinarily he would consider this a trap but that was not the Borg's MO.

<Shulz's Quarters>

Will had been transmitting the message for what seemed like fifteen minutes when he noticed with some alarm that it was being traced. There were two possibilities that crossed his mind. The first was that whoever was on the bridge was attempting to find out where he was and the second was that the Borg had noticed his little message and were trying to locate him. For a moment, he wrestled with the decision, and finally decided to find out who was listening.

Carefully, he began tapping out a new code, this time reading, "Alive?request assistance." As he began transmitting, he decided to see if he could tap into the visual interface and possibly send a text message of some kind, something he could be more detailed with.

<USS Sirion Bridge>

Kilana slid in front of the console as Marc moved back. "I can try, Captain." She tapped at the console, waiting as it searched for the information. She glanced over at the Borg who were still on the Bridge...thus far they hadn't seemed to take any real note of the Sentinel Officers - she just hoped it stayed that way.

Blake noticed Kilana glance at the drone on the bridge. He figured she was uncomfortable with them in such close proximity so he moved closer to the drone nearest her joping it would make her feel a little safer.

"No good, sir. The system keeps giving me conflicting messages. It's probably partially scrambled from whatever the Borg have done thus far..." Kilana frowned.

"This patchwork assimilation will probably be affecting every system aboard the ship to some degree" Blake muttered as he stared at the drone an the far side of the bridge who seemed to be processing some data.

"Wait," Marc said, "There's something else coming through..." He pointed at the screen where 'Alive...request assistance.' was now flashing.

"Now that definitely qualifies as a distress signal," Lange murmured. "Is that enough to get a location, Kilana?"

Kilana tried scanning for a more specific location again. The longer message allowed her a bit more to go on, and it seemed that the location was entirely scrambled..."Somewhere on the aft side of Deck 3..."

Turning to Lange, Blake spoke up "That should be specific enough to mount a rescue mission, assuming we can get to that section."

"You and I will go, Lieutenant. Leave your team here to protect the engineers. I'd still rather have a better fix on the location, even on a ship this size it'll take awhile to search Deck 3, even if the Borg stay out of the way." Lange checked the charge on his phaser, then slid it back into the holster on his hip.

<Shulz's Quarters>

Will finally managed to compile a short, but succinct message that he felt was safe enough to risk. It was a burst transmission which included his name, rank, and location in hopes that someone up there would be able to use it to find him. Once he was satisfied, he transmitted it, then waited to see what would happen. Taking a glance out his window, the fuzzy vessel in the gasses seemed to have become more defined. Either that, or he was starting to lose it.

<USS Sirion Bridge>

Sighing, Kilana looked back at the console, racking her brain for a way around the problem. All of a sudden, it beeped twice with a new message. This is what she'd needed the first time. "It's a Lieutenant JG Schulz, Deck 3, Forward Section 2..."

<Schulz's Quarters>

Will had been watching his console for some time when he thought he saw something that could be a response to his calls for help. Someone up there was looking afterall, someone who could get him off this doomed ship.

<USS Sirion Bridge>

"Section 2, Forward... check. Mister Daggerd?" Lange motioned towards the door.

OFF:

JP brought to you by:

Captain James Lange
Commanding Officer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673

and

Lieutenant Blake Daggerd
Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673

and

Chief Petty Officer Kilana Nira
Captain's Yeoman, Chief of the Boat, Acting CEO
USS Sentinel NCC-74673

and

[Hawkins]

<USS Malinche, Turbolift, MD03, 1550>

?HELLO!? Joe said, thumping on the turbolift door, ?IS ANYBODY THERE?!? he continued thumping.

The banging and shouting had started to get to Lisa now, the ensign in red had been at it now for over 5 minutes, ?Ensign, I think if someone was going to hear us they would have by now, for all we know those doors could be pointed straight at a bulkhead!?

?I know, I know, I?m just not good at being laying back and doing nothing waiting for rescue, sorry.? Joe sighed and unzipped his duty jacket, he wasn?t sure if it was hot in here or just his being worked up that was making him feel far too warm. ?I?m Joe by the way, Ensign Joe Carson?

The lady in blue smiled up at him from her set on the floor, she was sitting against the back wall with her knees bent in front of her ?Nice to meet you Joe, I?m Doctor Carter, Lisa.?

?Likewise Doc? He loosened the collar of his undershirt and paced in what little space there was in the lift.

?Are you ok Ensign??

?Yeah Doc, I?m fine, like I said, I?m not good at the whole sitting and waiting thing??

?Are you sure? I?m a counselor, means I?m fairly good at reading people?? She stretched one leg out in front of her, ostensibly to stretch, but also to prevent the man from pacing quite so much. ?Also means I?m good at listening if you want to talk??

Joe let out a long sigh of resignation and sat down with his back to the door, ?Just a bit of nerves I guess, first there?s the Borg, then all these malfunctions and now we?re trapped in this turbolift??

Lisa could understand where he was coming from, she?d only been onboard for two days and what a couple of days they had been, she had been a bag of nerves when she first arrived and if she was being honest she still was, but if there was one thing she was good at, it was maintaining a calm and professional exterior. It was all she could do the last few days to stop herself being a complete wreck, and the last few hours really hadn?t helped.

Still she pushed all the self doubt and worry back into the depths of her head and decided to distract herself, ?Well it?s not a good combination in this kind of situation??

?What isn?t??

?Sorry I tend to do that a lot, jump ahead and just assume people follow me, I really do need to learn to show my working.? She smiled at the ensign who returned the gesture. ?I meant the combination of a nervous situation and a proactive personality?

?And I?m not a fan of enclosed space, ironic given my career choice?

?What?s that?? Lisa returned her stretched leg to the folded position in front of her.

?I?m a pilot, a large chunk of my time is spent in shuttles or fighters, hardly the most spacious things??

?No, but they?re moving, and most importantly you have an element of control over them, whereas this lift is just sitting her stationary and silent like some kind of tomb?? She had said it before she could really process what she was about to say and stop it.

There was a long pause, both crewmembers glanced around the lift, neither of them remotely comforted by Lisa?s slip, quite the opposite in fact.

Lisa was the first to speak, shifting slightly and clearing her throat, ??maybe we should try banging on the door again??

OFF:

An PNPC JP starring


Dr Lisa Carter
Counsellor

and


Ensign Joseph Carson
Flight Control Officer

Played By

[Peters]

ON: <USS Malinche, Beta Section Engineering, Day 3, 1600-ish>

Peters dropped the tricorder onto a nearby console as soon as he received Kersare's order to go ahead with the computer shut down. First things first... he had to remember the procedure. Starship computers defaulted to "Always on" unless the ship lost all power and drained its battery reserves. Life support for the crew would shut down before the main computer core would.

All that basically meant was that convincing a starship computer to shut down was a difficult task... and that was one that was operating properly. There was no telling what kinds of hoops Peters would have to jump through to convince the Malinche's scrambled systems that he wanted the computer to fully shut down and restart from step one.

Remembering what he THOUGHT was the proper series of commands, Peters began tapping them into the console before him, bypassing and ignoring LCARS system alerts and warnings that popped up as he went. Most of them were variants of the same "Are you REALLY sure?" messages that had existed since the invention of computer software. And they were still annoying more than 400 years later.

Finally, after several seconds that felt like hours, a message popped up on the console reading "Main Computer shut down and active memory purge, please confirm."

Peters tapped in his authorization code and the confirmation sequence, then took a nervous step back from the console as it became running through an operational sequence that he'd never actually seen in use before. The console then went blank and a Starfleet Technical Command emblem appeared, only to fade away to black as all the other consoles in the room, and presumably all across the ship, also went totally dark. All they could do now was wait for the restart sequence to finish.

Another perceptual hour later, but no more than a minute in real time, the console came back online with a soft bleep and began showing a status display. Peters let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, then let out a loud whoop of joy as the Master Systems Display started scrolling through systems status reports, the vast majority of them a bright, cheerful green.

Tapping his commbadge, Peters proudly reported, "Captain, Restart complete. It looks like we have a few spots of minor systems damage around the ship, but all critical and defensive systems read fully operational."

OFF:

[Roberts]

<<USS Malinche, Deck 8, Alpha section, Corridors, 1550, MD03>>

Without any more options, Regina had to make a decision: A ? be completely useless and wait for help; or B ? the Jeffrey tubes. Defiantely B.

''Computer, show me the nearest way off this deck,'' she walked to the closest blinking wall-pannel and touched the screen. She tried to memorise the path and then headed to the designated Jeffrey's tube. Why the hell they got that name, she had no idea. But she hated crawling through them.

<<Jeffrey's tubes, 1553>>

No, she wasn't claustrophobic, but knowing that the ship could divide into two pieces just about where she was, didn't made her any more comfortable. So did the silent noise of the all various conduents running behind the wall all together about twenty centimeters away from her.

What was it? Left? No, Right... Regina paused by the corner and then proceeded. And there shoud, be a way up? she crawled to the hatch and opened it. Climbing up, she hoped that she will bump into one of the maintenance crew, or not...

''What are you doing here?'' a deep male voice came from the end of the tube, it's ownler lightened merely by the faint light that emerged from the plasma relay the man was working on. If Regina didn't know better, she would've screamed her soul out.

''Ummm, I got a bit lost,'' she answered cautiously and kept going towards him, to find out she's talking to a Klingon once she was close enough to get a clear look at him. ''I was stranded on deck eight and had some trouble getting off...''

Regian wanted to explain the whole thing, but figured that it wouldn't be appropriate at the moment. ''Ensign Regina Roberts,'' she introduced herself once she was close enough to see his face clearly.

''D'Vhal, engineer,'' he responded in a still line, without any inclinations.

''Nice to meet you,'' Regina replied in a bit too cheerfull mode to made a Klingon happy. ''So, the way out of here?'' she asked, figuring, that if he needed any help, he'd asked, although, with the Klingon nature, this wouldn't necesarrily be the case.

''Down there, then right, straight and then up as many levels as you need to,'' he replied, a bit annoyed as she didn't let him do the work.

''Thanks,'' she smiled in return and squeezed pass him. ''Nice talking to you,'' she said before she headed to the end, hoping of reaching a nicer deck.

OFF:
NPC D'Vhal

and

[Kersare]

<<USS Malinche, Bridge, 1615, Day 3>>

After giving Todd authorization to perform a complete restart, Isabel had anxiously been waiting to see the results. For their sakes, and the sakes of the Sentinel and Sirion crews, she hoped it was successful. Things had already gone badly - she'd feel a lot better if at least the computer was functioning properly.

If the events thus far were any indication, the mission would not end well. Hopefully they would be able to avoid total disaster, but where the Borg were involved, one never knew. Honestly, Isabel would be glad if they ended the mission alive and in at least mostly one piece. The chances of all three ships making it totally unscathed were slim - especially if a Borg vessel were in the area. Technically the Sirion was on its way to being a Borg vessel...

Suddenly the bridge was bathed in total darkness as the computer was restarted. An eerie silence, full of foreboding, filled the air for several tense moments.

Isabel blinked as her eyes began to adjust to the dark, barely making out the shapes of her current bridge crew. Everyone seemed frozen in place, practically holding their breaths.

Beep. Beep-beep. Blip.

Slowly but steadily the consoles came back on one by one, followed by the lights.

Tapping his commbadge, Peters proudly reported, "Captain, Restart complete. It looks like we have a few spots of minor systems damage around the ship, but all critical and defensive systems read fully operational."

Isabel tapped her commbadge to reply, "Good work Lieutenant. Get damage teams assigned, then gather your team and get over to the Sirion to assist. Tell whoever you leave in charge to keep me informed of progress and any other issues that arise. Kersare out."

At least a few problems were solved. Now they had to ensure that the Dark Matter or nebula didn't create a similar situation. Another system-wide failure during a Borg attack didn't sound like a particularly inviting idea to her.

She turned to Sovak (NPC), "While Lieutenant Thundera is resolving the issues with her algorithms, assemble whatever Science officers can be spared and try to determine if the Dark Matter theory was correct and if so, how to prevent it in the future. If that wasn't the problem, eliminate any other scientific possibilities, then work with Operations to find out what was."

"Yes Captain. I will send another officer to take over the bridge station and begin," the Vulcan replied. She tapped her commbadge, "Lieutenant Sovak to Ensign Delasi (NPC). I need you to take over bridge duty for the time being, report to the bridge immediately."

The young man replied fairly quickly, "Yes ma'am. I should be there soon."

Sovak nodded to Isabel and headed for the turbolift. She approached it a little more cautiously than normal, due to the turbolift's most recent behavior, but was relieved when the doors swished open as she stepped in front of them. As the Vulcan stepped into the turbolift, the doors shut unexpectedly, closing on her left foot. She let out a quiet gasp, then tugged her leg, trying to free the trapped foot.

Finally her foot came free and Sovak wrenched forward, reaching out with her hands to brace herself against the inner wall of the turbolift.

Isabel's eyes had grown wide as she watched the latest turbolift incident. "Lieutenant, are you..." She couldn't finish her sentence before the doors shut again. Hopefully Sovak was alright and wouldn't require a trip to Sickbay...

Turning to the Communications Officer, Isabel said, "Contact Engineering - let them know there's still a few bugs left in the turbolifts...." Seeing the young woman nod, Isabel sighed and shook her head, taking her seat in the command chair - bringing up the new damage reports to see what was actually wrong with her ship. The list was longer than she would've liked, but that wasn't surprising. As long as they were ready...

OFF: Tag crew

[Akios]

<<USS Malinche, Engineering, 1615, Day 3>>

For the most part, Akios stayed out of the way as Lt. Peters shut down the computer. He'd expected the lieutenant to go up to the core to shut it down from one of the direct terminals, and when Peters entered the commands from the console right there in beta Engineering, the aurelian could only hope that the command relays wouldn't corrupt the instructions.

In groups and banks, the displays in the compartment went dark.

Not even in the Academy did they do this in live training, though he'd participated a couple of times in holodeck simulations, and had heard of cadet cruises where system shutdowns had been on the unannounced curriculum.

While the computer was offline, the aurelian noticed some positive signs: several systems that were capable of operating independently of the main computer were resetting themselves. If all went well with the reset, they would automatically slave themselves to the main computer once it came online again.

Lt. Peters's posture as he stood waiting for the computer to come back online was...well Akios didn't want to say "amusing", but...the only other time he'd seen a person behaving like that was during his fourth year at the Academy, when one of his dormmates, who'd secretly gotten married during his third year, had been awaiting the birth of his first child, and was worried not only about his wife, but also about his future as a cadet.

Akios took a step back when Peters yelled, but when he saw the consoles lighting up, he hurried to an open station. He was watched for any telltale sign of a virus, such as systems reporting normal operations, and then failing unexpectedly. So far, he hadn't seen any such signs. Systems that successfully restarted were staying online. That wasn't to say that there weren't any problems, but the failures he was seeing on the board could have been the result of reasonable breakdowns while the system had been malfunctioning.

He was surprised by how few problems there actually were. It would be interesting to see how many of the problems were actually the result of repair attempts during the system failure. He made a note to Peters suggesting that a detail be assigned to inspect all the parts that had been pulled during the repair attempts. If they were actually still in working order, there was no reason to reclaim them in the replicators.

As soon as communications were back online, Akios contacted Cadet Altin in alpha Engineering, to make sure he knew what was going on. The cadet had finished modifying four more tricorders and had been about to take them up to the bridge.

The life support systems display was one of those that showed green. It would take a few minutes to completely purge the atmosphere, but they'd evacuated the decks where life support had failed quickly enough that the air was still breathable, at least in theory. It was likely that malfunctioning systems had released gases into the atmosphere, and without active life support, those gases would have built up. As internal sensors came back online and the gases were detected, life support would automatically be filtering them out, returning the air to a safe to breathe state.