<<USS Malinche, Bridge, 1355, Day 1>>
Isabel had finished writing a special notice to her Senior Staff, detailing the background information regarding their next mission. Also, she had noted that there would be a short mission briefing between the Malinche and Sentinel crews after departure and before the dinner they were to attend.
With the departure time drawing near, Isabel had left her Ready Room for the bridge a few moments ago, after confirming that Captain Lansky (NPC) and his fellow shipmates were aboard.
As she took a seat in her chair, she nodded to Mason. Isabel turned to Ryan (NPC), "Ensign Tamlin, do we have clearance for departure?"
He turned to face her, "Aye, ma'am. Just received it."
"Thank you, Ensign. Please open a channel to the USS Sentinel," she said, straightening her uniform.
"Channel open."
Isabel spoke, "Captain Lange, this is Captain Kersare of the Malinche."
"Good afternoon, Captain," Lange replied. "The Sentinel is ready for departure when you are."
"Very good, we've just received departure clearance. We'll be starting off at Warp 6, heading 28 mark 122," she replied.
"Acknowledged," Lange said with a smile. "We'll keep up with you."
Isabel nodded and smiled in return, "Please contact us when you're ready for the joint briefing. Kersare out."
As she turned to the Ensign sitting at the Flight Control console, Isabel heard the turbolift doors swoosh open and a Lieutenant in red uniform walked out. Isabel quirked an eyebrow and waited for him to identify himself.
Jake couldn't believe his luck. It had only been 12 hours since he received the assignment he was hoping for. Not only was he aboard a Prometheus Class, a favoured design of his, but he was aboard the Malinche! He looked around the busy bridge only to find a woman in command red staring back at him.
"Captain Kersare?" he asked as he approached her.
Isabel nodded, "Yes, I'm Captain Kersare, Lieutenant...?"
"Lieutenant Jacob Quaid reporting for duty." he replied, immediately snapping to attention, a PADD clutched firmly in his left hand.
They would send a new officer just as they were departing. Isabel smiled, "Welcome aboard Lieutenant Quaid. What position have you been assigned to?"
"My orders state that I'm to take over as your Chief Flight Control Officer," Jake replied, offering his new CO the PADD. "Vice-Admiral Fuller ordered me to give you this upon arrival."
Isabel took the PADD, quirking an eyebrow. "Thank you Lieutenant." Her eyes scanned through it quickly; it was Jake's orders and also condolences regarding Jaran. Obviously, he'd realized that she was in need of a new Chief Flight Control Officer. "Well, I apologize for the short notice, Lieutenant, but we're ready to depart. Would you care to take us out?"
"I'd be happy to Captain," Jake replied before walking over to the helm station and relieving its previous operator with a nod. Taking the seat, he ran his hands over several controls. He quickly switched the controls to manual operation. He wanted to impress Kersare and impress her as early as he possibly could and there was no time like the present.
Returning to her chair, she took a seat and turned to Jake, "Alright Lieutenant Quaid, take us out."
"Aye Captain," he replied as the sound and vibrations of the impulse engine power up sequence was felt and heard. "Departure course set, Impulse Engines set at one quarter impulse. Moorings & Umbilicals cleared..." Jake said as his hands flew over the controls like a concert pianist at his piano. "Here we go."
The shapely hull of the Malinche began to move forward slowly like an eagle taking flight, her majestic lines reflected the docks internal lighting elegantly as the primary hull entered the endless sea of space.
Jake's hands never left the controls. She handled beautifully, he already knew that he only had to make a few adjustments to the RCS thruster igniters. A few moments passed and the Lieutenant breathed a sigh of relief before reporting. "We're clear Captain."
"Thank you Lieutenant. Set a course for heading 28 mark 122, Warp 6," Isabel said, settling back into the chair. He'd done well thus far, though she had a feeling that before the end of the mission his skills would be put to the test.
"Aye Captain," Jake replied as he programmed in the course and speed as well as switching the guidance controls back to the computer. "Course and speed laid in. ETA 2 days 3 hours and 22 minutes." He looked over his shoulder for a moment, awaiting confirmation.
She nodded to him. "Engage."
Jake tapped the engage key and sat back. He felt the ship begin to lurch forward and watched as stars streaked across the main viewer.
A Few moments later, the computer informed him they had reached the desired speed. "We're now travelling on course at Warp 6 Captain."
Isabel looked over at Jake, giving a slight nod. There was no turning back now - they would face whatever lie ahead, to a yet unknown end. Of all their missions thus far, Isabel felt this would prove to be the most unpredictable.
OFF: JM has officially started! When putting your <<Location, Time, Day>> headers, please also include the name of your ship.
Portions involving Captain Lange provided by:
Captain James Lange
Commanding Officer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
JP brought to you by:
Lieutenant Jacob "Jake" Quaid
Chief Flight Control Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
and
Lost And Found (JM with USS Sentinel/Peacekeeper)
Moderators: Tournneau, Korath, Kersare
Lost And Found (JM with USS Sentinel/Peacekeeper)
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
-
Starbase 386 Crew
- Posts: 105
- Joined: Sun Jul 01, 2007 11:38 pm
- Location: Starbase 386
ON: <USS Sentinel Bridge, 1400, Mission Day 1>
Lange checked the time for what seemed like the fifteenth time in the last 5 minutes. It was finally 1400 on the dot. He opened his mouth to order a comm channel opened to the Malinche only to have the officer at Ops speak out.
"Sir, we're being hailed by the USS Malinche."
Lange closed his mouth and smiled before replying, "Put them on."
Isabel spoke, "Captain Lange, this is Captain Kersare of the Malinche."
"Good afternoon, Captain," Lange replied. "The Sentinel is ready for departure when you are."
"Very good, we've just received departure clearance. We'll be starting off at Warp 6, heading 28 mark 122," she replied.
"Acknowledged," Lange said with a smile. "We'll keep up with you."
Isabel nodded and smiled in return, "Please contact us when you're ready for the joint briefing. Kersare out."
Lange motioned for the channel to be closed, then looked back at the Helm. "Mister Monroe, you heard the lady. Make sure you keep us with the Malinche."
Rhys raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I could fly circles around that heap of junk... keep up my foot." He keyed in the commands, bring the impulse engines up and moving the large ship slowly away from the starbase. Once they had cleared, Rhys layed in a course matching the Malinche, and looked up. The other ship was ahead of them in the view screen. "She's got a big butt, doesn't she Captain?"
"Now now, Mister Monroe, be polite. You may be able to fly circles around that ship, but I guarantee you she could turn this ship into scrap metal before we could even dent her shields." Lange paused for a moment before continuing, "Although, I still prefer a ship that can land."
"Firepower isn't always everything, sir," Rhys countered, bringing up warp as both ships slid into the upper speeds of space. "And I promise you whatever grease monkey is over there piloting... he ain't got nothin' on me."
"Well, just wait to tell him that until after dinner, Lieutenant. And let me sell tickets to the festivities." Lange smirked.
Rhys turned. "They're coming here? You're letting some filthy ragaband group of Starfleet misfits that we get shoved together with come over here to the elegance and grace of this beautiful vessel?" He refrained from saying the Captain must have his eye on the other commanding officer.
"Note to self, never let Lieutenant Monroe head up the honor guard... check," Lange muttered, only half to himself.
Commander Davenport (NPC) chose that moment to interject, "Ah think the phrase 'Ragaband Group of Misfits' applies more to this crew than the Malinche's, personally."
"Only in terms of the XOs we seem to have," Rhys said under his breath... or tried to, anyways.
Lange cleared his throat. "Gentlemen... no bloodbaths on the bridge, please."
Rhys busied himself at the console. "Why sir, Ah'm afraid Ah don't think AH undustAHnd what you meahn," he said. "We're at cruising, speed, sir," he added, in his normal voice.
Lange glared at the back of Monroe's head, but Davenport either hadn't noticed the mockery or didn't think it worthy of a response, so he left it alone. "Good. There will be a staff meeting at 1600... we'll be in contact with the Malinche during that period... and then everyone except the watch officer is required to attend a dress dinner in the Mess Hall at 1830."
"Aye, sir," Monroe replied, not making the comments in his head.
Lange waited for everyone to finish their responses, then stood. "Commander Davenport, you have the bridge."
OFF:
Dialogue provided by Captain Kersare of the Malinche
This has been a JP with:
Lieutenant Rhys Monroe
Chief Flight Control Officer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
_________________
Tony
AKA
Captain James Lange
Commanding Officer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
Task Force 22, Horizon Fleet
Lange checked the time for what seemed like the fifteenth time in the last 5 minutes. It was finally 1400 on the dot. He opened his mouth to order a comm channel opened to the Malinche only to have the officer at Ops speak out.
"Sir, we're being hailed by the USS Malinche."
Lange closed his mouth and smiled before replying, "Put them on."
Isabel spoke, "Captain Lange, this is Captain Kersare of the Malinche."
"Good afternoon, Captain," Lange replied. "The Sentinel is ready for departure when you are."
"Very good, we've just received departure clearance. We'll be starting off at Warp 6, heading 28 mark 122," she replied.
"Acknowledged," Lange said with a smile. "We'll keep up with you."
Isabel nodded and smiled in return, "Please contact us when you're ready for the joint briefing. Kersare out."
Lange motioned for the channel to be closed, then looked back at the Helm. "Mister Monroe, you heard the lady. Make sure you keep us with the Malinche."
Rhys raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I could fly circles around that heap of junk... keep up my foot." He keyed in the commands, bring the impulse engines up and moving the large ship slowly away from the starbase. Once they had cleared, Rhys layed in a course matching the Malinche, and looked up. The other ship was ahead of them in the view screen. "She's got a big butt, doesn't she Captain?"
"Now now, Mister Monroe, be polite. You may be able to fly circles around that ship, but I guarantee you she could turn this ship into scrap metal before we could even dent her shields." Lange paused for a moment before continuing, "Although, I still prefer a ship that can land."
"Firepower isn't always everything, sir," Rhys countered, bringing up warp as both ships slid into the upper speeds of space. "And I promise you whatever grease monkey is over there piloting... he ain't got nothin' on me."
"Well, just wait to tell him that until after dinner, Lieutenant. And let me sell tickets to the festivities." Lange smirked.
Rhys turned. "They're coming here? You're letting some filthy ragaband group of Starfleet misfits that we get shoved together with come over here to the elegance and grace of this beautiful vessel?" He refrained from saying the Captain must have his eye on the other commanding officer.
"Note to self, never let Lieutenant Monroe head up the honor guard... check," Lange muttered, only half to himself.
Commander Davenport (NPC) chose that moment to interject, "Ah think the phrase 'Ragaband Group of Misfits' applies more to this crew than the Malinche's, personally."
"Only in terms of the XOs we seem to have," Rhys said under his breath... or tried to, anyways.
Lange cleared his throat. "Gentlemen... no bloodbaths on the bridge, please."
Rhys busied himself at the console. "Why sir, Ah'm afraid Ah don't think AH undustAHnd what you meahn," he said. "We're at cruising, speed, sir," he added, in his normal voice.
Lange glared at the back of Monroe's head, but Davenport either hadn't noticed the mockery or didn't think it worthy of a response, so he left it alone. "Good. There will be a staff meeting at 1600... we'll be in contact with the Malinche during that period... and then everyone except the watch officer is required to attend a dress dinner in the Mess Hall at 1830."
"Aye, sir," Monroe replied, not making the comments in his head.
Lange waited for everyone to finish their responses, then stood. "Commander Davenport, you have the bridge."
OFF:
Dialogue provided by Captain Kersare of the Malinche
This has been a JP with:
Lieutenant Rhys Monroe
Chief Flight Control Officer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
_________________
Tony
AKA
Captain James Lange
Commanding Officer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
Task Force 22, Horizon Fleet
This is a post by a member of Starbase 386's Crew
http://starbase386.antoniemey.com/
http://starbase386.antoniemey.com/
ON: Bridge. U.S.S Malinche. 1354. Day 1.
Marco stood behind the Petty Officer at the Ops Station reviewing the last bits of information coming in. Turning round, he nodded to Kersare. "All decks report ready Keptin." He killed an itch on his cheek. "Keptin Lansky and Sirion Officers are aboard"
He was glad to finally be getting underway, god knows shoreleave had hardly been good - Jaran, the bittersweet meeting with Sarah, although the party the night before that had been good. Smacking Hawkins had been a high point too.
He was broken from his short reminisicence by a Lieutenant who came rushing onto the bridge, he went straight for the Captain and Marco watched like a hawk as the pair exchanged pleasantries. His jaw dropped and fist clenched when he heard who the new arrival was. Marco rolled his eyes and followed the now-relieved Ensign into the turbolift.
As the doors closed, he sighed through the still gritted teeth.
"I know" the Ensign offered.
"What hell is that!" Marco shouted. "You don't turn up on a bridge a few minutes before leaving dock!" He brought his arms back down to his sides, fuming, "what a spiffing bastard" he added, shaking his head.
The Ensign made to speak but Marco got there first again. "And he's my fucking line officer now!" he realised, suddenly regretting bucking for a dual operational/command posting. "What an absolute..."
"My stop" the Ensign managed, hurrying out of the turbolift. Marco felt like punching something, he didn't even know what deck they were on.
"Shuttlebay" he grumbled, utterly miserable at the thought that the spiffed up Lieutenant on the bridge was his new boss; before, they'd not had the FCO, and Marco was clearly going to have a bit of a free reign of the run of the flight department, but now...oh no, not anymore, no now some dimwitted flyboy, a typical bloody officer if there ever was one, had come strutting onto the bridge. And he seemed far too 'with the hair' to be taken seriously. "Two pipped tosser" he mumbled to himself, stepped off of the turbolift and into the corridor where he noticed that the left wall was pulsing with arrows pointed at him, he turned around and saw they finished at the turbolift.
If that was one of his rankers....That system was invented for idiot and officers, one and the same all said and done.
He vaulted down the corridor and saw a young Human lad in a jumpsuit. "OI!" he Marco shouted, pointing as he ran. He intercepted the man, "Who are you?!" he demanded forcefully.
"Uh...C...Crewman Jacksons...sir." he uttered.
"How many times do I have to tell you lot to NOT call me sir!" Marco responded furiously. "WHere the hell are you going?"
"The uh...the uhh, uhh....the mess." Jacksons replied, trying out the word "Chief?" as an afterthought.
"Oh...and where is it?" Marco asked of him.
"Well I was following the-"
Marco clipped him round the ear. "I was following.." he mimicked sarcasticaly, making a flapping mouth shape with his left hand. "You are on ship! You do not know your way around the ship and you have the audacity to wear your unifom like you belong here?!" Marco screamed. "Computer, deactivate direction functions pending emergency system diagnositc, authorisation Tupalov six-seven-six-one." He hoped he had the clearance for that..
"Confirmed. Direction funtions deactivated." The mechanical bitch told him.
"Come here! And Shut your bloody eyes!" Marco snapped, grabbing Jacksons by the back of his uniform and dragging him off down the corridor, his temper made him walk fast and Jacksons nervous feet pounded the deck rapidly, trying to keep up with him. A few turns of the deck later and they emerged into the main shuttlebay, where Marco took a sharp left into one of the small equipment storage rooms, not much bigger than a large cupboard really, with Jacksons in tow behind.
"Right" Marco began, grabbed both of Jacksons shoulders, he spun him round four times and moved him to a wall. "In thirty seconds you open your eyes and find the mess, on your own..." Marco picked up an extinguisher, pulled the cap he sprayed the letter 'D' onto Jacksons front, before spinning him once more so he was facing the wall, "...no help."
Marco exited the storage room and closed the single slide door, leaving Jacksons in the pitch black - he'd have to find the door himself first, seeing as there no audio command receptors in a storage locker. He stepped away shaking his head and muttering, though significantly calmer.
OFF 'ello boss
Marco stood behind the Petty Officer at the Ops Station reviewing the last bits of information coming in. Turning round, he nodded to Kersare. "All decks report ready Keptin." He killed an itch on his cheek. "Keptin Lansky and Sirion Officers are aboard"
He was glad to finally be getting underway, god knows shoreleave had hardly been good - Jaran, the bittersweet meeting with Sarah, although the party the night before that had been good. Smacking Hawkins had been a high point too.
He was broken from his short reminisicence by a Lieutenant who came rushing onto the bridge, he went straight for the Captain and Marco watched like a hawk as the pair exchanged pleasantries. His jaw dropped and fist clenched when he heard who the new arrival was. Marco rolled his eyes and followed the now-relieved Ensign into the turbolift.
As the doors closed, he sighed through the still gritted teeth.
"I know" the Ensign offered.
"What hell is that!" Marco shouted. "You don't turn up on a bridge a few minutes before leaving dock!" He brought his arms back down to his sides, fuming, "what a spiffing bastard" he added, shaking his head.
The Ensign made to speak but Marco got there first again. "And he's my fucking line officer now!" he realised, suddenly regretting bucking for a dual operational/command posting. "What an absolute..."
"My stop" the Ensign managed, hurrying out of the turbolift. Marco felt like punching something, he didn't even know what deck they were on.
"Shuttlebay" he grumbled, utterly miserable at the thought that the spiffed up Lieutenant on the bridge was his new boss; before, they'd not had the FCO, and Marco was clearly going to have a bit of a free reign of the run of the flight department, but now...oh no, not anymore, no now some dimwitted flyboy, a typical bloody officer if there ever was one, had come strutting onto the bridge. And he seemed far too 'with the hair' to be taken seriously. "Two pipped tosser" he mumbled to himself, stepped off of the turbolift and into the corridor where he noticed that the left wall was pulsing with arrows pointed at him, he turned around and saw they finished at the turbolift.
If that was one of his rankers....That system was invented for idiot and officers, one and the same all said and done.
He vaulted down the corridor and saw a young Human lad in a jumpsuit. "OI!" he Marco shouted, pointing as he ran. He intercepted the man, "Who are you?!" he demanded forcefully.
"Uh...C...Crewman Jacksons...sir." he uttered.
"How many times do I have to tell you lot to NOT call me sir!" Marco responded furiously. "WHere the hell are you going?"
"The uh...the uhh, uhh....the mess." Jacksons replied, trying out the word "Chief?" as an afterthought.
"Oh...and where is it?" Marco asked of him.
"Well I was following the-"
Marco clipped him round the ear. "I was following.." he mimicked sarcasticaly, making a flapping mouth shape with his left hand. "You are on ship! You do not know your way around the ship and you have the audacity to wear your unifom like you belong here?!" Marco screamed. "Computer, deactivate direction functions pending emergency system diagnositc, authorisation Tupalov six-seven-six-one." He hoped he had the clearance for that..
"Confirmed. Direction funtions deactivated." The mechanical bitch told him.
"Come here! And Shut your bloody eyes!" Marco snapped, grabbing Jacksons by the back of his uniform and dragging him off down the corridor, his temper made him walk fast and Jacksons nervous feet pounded the deck rapidly, trying to keep up with him. A few turns of the deck later and they emerged into the main shuttlebay, where Marco took a sharp left into one of the small equipment storage rooms, not much bigger than a large cupboard really, with Jacksons in tow behind.
"Right" Marco began, grabbed both of Jacksons shoulders, he spun him round four times and moved him to a wall. "In thirty seconds you open your eyes and find the mess, on your own..." Marco picked up an extinguisher, pulled the cap he sprayed the letter 'D' onto Jacksons front, before spinning him once more so he was facing the wall, "...no help."
Marco exited the storage room and closed the single slide door, leaving Jacksons in the pitch black - he'd have to find the door himself first, seeing as there no audio command receptors in a storage locker. He stepped away shaking his head and muttering, though significantly calmer.
OFF 'ello boss
Warrant Officer First Class Marco Tupalov
Chief Flight Control Officer
U.S.S Malinche
ON: Malinche. Corridors. 15:00. Day One.
Marco rubbed his aching temples, they throbbed with stress. Only an hour out of dock and he'd still only got around half of the departments, he still needed to reach the others before 16:00 and get status reports from his Departmental NCO's. He skulked down the corridor, PADD in hand, not bothering to stick to the left hand side of the tight passages.
Jack exited the turbolift doors to be confronted by a scared looking crewman, odd in itself, but was made the sight more weird was the large ?D? sprayed on the front of his uniform, he stared in confusion at the crewman until the door closed and he heard the lift shoot off to its destination.
He had made the last minute preparations for departure in the morning and made the time to watch the ships launch from his office window, it felt somewhat odd to be back in space again, his next job was to find Ensign Rayne and run something past her, but first he decided to head to the mess and get a spot of lunch.
As Marco continued his angry charge down the corridor, still seething about flyboy and the present stress only adding to his annoyance, he noticed a couple of drops of extinguisher discharge on the floor, he imaged that Jacksons had battled his way out of the locker. He rubbed the liquid into the thin carpet, not wanting anyone to slip and be injured, before resuming his 'bull in a china shop' style march. He rounded a corner and saw 'him' coming towards the Russian. Marco kept his course straight.
Jack looked up from the PADD he was reading when he heard footsteps on the deck up a head and was greeting with the sight of his new best friend, he slapped the biggest grin on his face he could and said happily, ?Hello sunshine!?
Marco looked right ahead and kept on going, tensing his upper torso arms, he barged into the officer as he walked past. "Prick" he muttered, and kept on going, trying to keep an ear out to see if the Lieutenant were about to launch an attack of his own. Just the sight of the arrogant prat made Marco incandescent with anger.
Jack spun away slightly as the chief barrelled into him, using the motion to deflect much of the force rather than fighting it, calling down the corridor ?Aw sweetheart, why do you have to play hard to get? Treat em mean, keep em keen? That it??
Marco turned around and gave him the finger. "Fuck off, boy" he replied. "I was dealing with shits like you when you were still shitting into nappies" his top lip curled, purely on its own devices out of sheer hatred, it was certainly not a conscious act at any rate. Marco sniffed the air. "Or are you still?" he added, realising how pathetic this name calling was, but feeling forced to resort to such primitive levels by the officer.
Jack couldn?t help but chuckle, not that the joke was funny in of itself, but more the ineffectiveness, ?Actually I was toilet trained from a very early age, I guess you could say I was gifted?? Jack winked.
Marco shook his head and breathed through gritted teeth. "Clever you" he said. "And when did you learn to walk upright?" Marco asked with a raised eyebrow. "Academy?" he offered.
?First year there, top of my walking class??
Marco smiled and just shook his head. "You must think you?re so smart, no? Quick answer for everything. Is not smart, is smartarse, but not smart."
?There?s no ?I? in team, there is however a ?smart? in smartarse, otherwise that?s just an arse?? Jack replied, he had never been one to argue back conventionally, in his previous life as a cop he had to learn to keep people off balance and drop their guard, random answers back were an efficient way to leave the person you were arguing with feeling far more frustrated.
Marco could almost feel the guttural growl brimming up inside him. "Do you want anything?" Marco demanded, sharply. It had been prat features after all who had spoken first.
Jack paused and put a thoughtful look on his face ??erm?nope, not that I can think of??
Marco eyeballed Hawkins. "You're a very immature little man, Leftenant Hawkins...and I often deal well with immature people, they find they grown up, quickly" he threatened, not seeing the need to bother with some menacing voice that would scare a kid crewman, he wanted it to be a promise to Hawkins, more than a threat.
?Ever considered a career teaching kindergarten? I mean toddlers have to be the only people who would really be intimidated by your big scary Chief Petty Officer act right? And you say you have the experience, might be a nice change for you?? Jack smiled.
"You haven't seen scary" the Russian returned, with his own smile.
Jacks mind briefly flashed back to his life as a detective, ?I?ve seen far worse than you buttercup, trust me??
"I'm sure" Marco replied. "But you haven't seen scary" he re-iterated. "Little boy in big space, think you have seen it all." He shook his head and offered a pitying look before turning round and starting to walk away.
Jack smiled to himself, letting the chief have the last word for a while as he walked off, he waited until he reached the turbolift and spoke as the door was just about to close, ?Checked your messages today Chief?...?
Marco lunged forward and stopped the door, it re-opened automatically. He gave Hawkins a cautious look. "Log out and give me that..." he said, daringly, referring to the PADD Hawkins was holding as he stepped closer to the man.
?No need?? Jack handed Marco the PADD which currently displayed a copy of the COBs messages, never get on the wrong side of an intelligence officer.
Admittedly, Marco was surprised to see Hawkins in his messages. He opened the top one, the only one he hadn't read he could remember, it was from the Captain...about counselling...His lips pursed and he imagined they'd gone white. He slowly looked up at Hawkins, feeling his face going redder and redder.
?Bad news sunshine?? Jack put on a mock concerned face.
Marco breathed in, slowly, trying to keep it contained. "Oh she can shove that up her arse!" he said angrily. "And so can you!" he jabbed a finger in the air at Hawkins. "SIDEWAYS" he shouted, throwing the PADD at Hawkins with all the strength his anger could muster. He stood stock still with his fists balled, utter unadultered rage making his chest rise and fall heavily.
The PADD hit him edge on the shoulder, stinging but Jack tried not to show it, ?Well I did recommend counseling, guess now it?s an order. Jacks face reformed in to a grin and he picked up the PADD, ?Have fun Chief!? He turned and continued to the mess hall leaving the Russian stood seething in the hallway, passing crew sticking close to the walls.
"BASTARD!" he shouted after the officer, he turned and noticed a Petty Officer staring at him, mildly frightened. "What are you looking at?!" Maroc spat. "MY OFFICE! 18:00!" he screamed in the young mans face.
OFF
A JP by
Chief Petty Officer Marco Tupalov
Chief Of the Boat/Chief Auxiliary Pilot
U.S.S Malinche
And
Marco rubbed his aching temples, they throbbed with stress. Only an hour out of dock and he'd still only got around half of the departments, he still needed to reach the others before 16:00 and get status reports from his Departmental NCO's. He skulked down the corridor, PADD in hand, not bothering to stick to the left hand side of the tight passages.
Jack exited the turbolift doors to be confronted by a scared looking crewman, odd in itself, but was made the sight more weird was the large ?D? sprayed on the front of his uniform, he stared in confusion at the crewman until the door closed and he heard the lift shoot off to its destination.
He had made the last minute preparations for departure in the morning and made the time to watch the ships launch from his office window, it felt somewhat odd to be back in space again, his next job was to find Ensign Rayne and run something past her, but first he decided to head to the mess and get a spot of lunch.
As Marco continued his angry charge down the corridor, still seething about flyboy and the present stress only adding to his annoyance, he noticed a couple of drops of extinguisher discharge on the floor, he imaged that Jacksons had battled his way out of the locker. He rubbed the liquid into the thin carpet, not wanting anyone to slip and be injured, before resuming his 'bull in a china shop' style march. He rounded a corner and saw 'him' coming towards the Russian. Marco kept his course straight.
Jack looked up from the PADD he was reading when he heard footsteps on the deck up a head and was greeting with the sight of his new best friend, he slapped the biggest grin on his face he could and said happily, ?Hello sunshine!?
Marco looked right ahead and kept on going, tensing his upper torso arms, he barged into the officer as he walked past. "Prick" he muttered, and kept on going, trying to keep an ear out to see if the Lieutenant were about to launch an attack of his own. Just the sight of the arrogant prat made Marco incandescent with anger.
Jack spun away slightly as the chief barrelled into him, using the motion to deflect much of the force rather than fighting it, calling down the corridor ?Aw sweetheart, why do you have to play hard to get? Treat em mean, keep em keen? That it??
Marco turned around and gave him the finger. "Fuck off, boy" he replied. "I was dealing with shits like you when you were still shitting into nappies" his top lip curled, purely on its own devices out of sheer hatred, it was certainly not a conscious act at any rate. Marco sniffed the air. "Or are you still?" he added, realising how pathetic this name calling was, but feeling forced to resort to such primitive levels by the officer.
Jack couldn?t help but chuckle, not that the joke was funny in of itself, but more the ineffectiveness, ?Actually I was toilet trained from a very early age, I guess you could say I was gifted?? Jack winked.
Marco shook his head and breathed through gritted teeth. "Clever you" he said. "And when did you learn to walk upright?" Marco asked with a raised eyebrow. "Academy?" he offered.
?First year there, top of my walking class??
Marco smiled and just shook his head. "You must think you?re so smart, no? Quick answer for everything. Is not smart, is smartarse, but not smart."
?There?s no ?I? in team, there is however a ?smart? in smartarse, otherwise that?s just an arse?? Jack replied, he had never been one to argue back conventionally, in his previous life as a cop he had to learn to keep people off balance and drop their guard, random answers back were an efficient way to leave the person you were arguing with feeling far more frustrated.
Marco could almost feel the guttural growl brimming up inside him. "Do you want anything?" Marco demanded, sharply. It had been prat features after all who had spoken first.
Jack paused and put a thoughtful look on his face ??erm?nope, not that I can think of??
Marco eyeballed Hawkins. "You're a very immature little man, Leftenant Hawkins...and I often deal well with immature people, they find they grown up, quickly" he threatened, not seeing the need to bother with some menacing voice that would scare a kid crewman, he wanted it to be a promise to Hawkins, more than a threat.
?Ever considered a career teaching kindergarten? I mean toddlers have to be the only people who would really be intimidated by your big scary Chief Petty Officer act right? And you say you have the experience, might be a nice change for you?? Jack smiled.
"You haven't seen scary" the Russian returned, with his own smile.
Jacks mind briefly flashed back to his life as a detective, ?I?ve seen far worse than you buttercup, trust me??
"I'm sure" Marco replied. "But you haven't seen scary" he re-iterated. "Little boy in big space, think you have seen it all." He shook his head and offered a pitying look before turning round and starting to walk away.
Jack smiled to himself, letting the chief have the last word for a while as he walked off, he waited until he reached the turbolift and spoke as the door was just about to close, ?Checked your messages today Chief?...?
Marco lunged forward and stopped the door, it re-opened automatically. He gave Hawkins a cautious look. "Log out and give me that..." he said, daringly, referring to the PADD Hawkins was holding as he stepped closer to the man.
?No need?? Jack handed Marco the PADD which currently displayed a copy of the COBs messages, never get on the wrong side of an intelligence officer.
Admittedly, Marco was surprised to see Hawkins in his messages. He opened the top one, the only one he hadn't read he could remember, it was from the Captain...about counselling...His lips pursed and he imagined they'd gone white. He slowly looked up at Hawkins, feeling his face going redder and redder.
?Bad news sunshine?? Jack put on a mock concerned face.
Marco breathed in, slowly, trying to keep it contained. "Oh she can shove that up her arse!" he said angrily. "And so can you!" he jabbed a finger in the air at Hawkins. "SIDEWAYS" he shouted, throwing the PADD at Hawkins with all the strength his anger could muster. He stood stock still with his fists balled, utter unadultered rage making his chest rise and fall heavily.
The PADD hit him edge on the shoulder, stinging but Jack tried not to show it, ?Well I did recommend counseling, guess now it?s an order. Jacks face reformed in to a grin and he picked up the PADD, ?Have fun Chief!? He turned and continued to the mess hall leaving the Russian stood seething in the hallway, passing crew sticking close to the walls.
"BASTARD!" he shouted after the officer, he turned and noticed a Petty Officer staring at him, mildly frightened. "What are you looking at?!" Maroc spat. "MY OFFICE! 18:00!" he screamed in the young mans face.
OFF
A JP by
Chief Petty Officer Marco Tupalov
Chief Of the Boat/Chief Auxiliary Pilot
U.S.S Malinche
And
Lieutenant Jonathan "Jack" Hawkins
Acting Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
<<Science Lab, 1307 hours, Day One, USS Malinche>>
The ship was underway towards the grimly task of once again dealing with the Borg in all it's green lighted horror. Technically it was now the Beta shift, so Yrel wasn't all too concerned about working harder than she needed to anymore as the crew was undergoing those final steps to be okay for departure. Although most of the crew wasn't all that thrilled to being with as rumours have, yes, already begun circulating about the Borg. Who kept leaking the info to the crew, she had no clue, but it always seemed to get out, whatever it was.
Yrel was seated comfortable in a chair next to a console, lightly scanning through a science new feeds latest additions. A lot was going on in the core of the scietific community. A lot of medicine, mostly. The desires these days to find cures to the incurable seemed to outweight progression in anything else. But, not surprisingly, really. Ultimately, since the scientific study was almost non-existant on the Malinche, she'd send in some inquiries on anything she and her staff could pitch in on. Man power was always high on demand, and she'd no doubt get a few grabbers. It would take away from her position as 2nd XO, but that'd have to do. She came onto the ship as the CSO first anyways, so her focus should in some way be on it.
A message had come in halfway through the reading of an article on advanced terraforming, from a former co-worker on the Intrigue. The title was simply "Regnerative properties of the female body". Yrel stopped for a second and shook her head. Linnens, it had to be Linnens. Little prevert didn't get the hint that a woman of 153 didn't want an over ambition brat of 29. At least, not with constant ushering to join him in the holodeck for a private night on a Risan beach, where he had the choice of swimwear...usually only the tiniest bakini imaginable, and the very point of it to not wear it at all and simply skinny dip. Little prevert...
Yrel didn't bother with the quiant niceties at the beginning of the message, knowing more than likely that if he hadn't found a significant other all that he'd say in the beginning was how good it was to had slipped off her swimming top during one of his family getogethers where she had taken pity on his singlehood and let him pass her off as his girlfriend, just to ease his parents off his back. She had paid of that act of generousity alright. As soon as most of his family hadn't been looking, he had undone her top and tried to steal a feel, making for a "can't keep out hands off each other" impression. She had slapped him, hard, and stormed off.
Eventually, after a lengthy brag of the good ol' times, he got to his point. The Intrigue it seems had been sent back to Ba'Ku to follow a series of new leads towards using the regenerative energies around the planet for mass-use, with a setup of new science equipment. They've had a breakthrough. They've found that they can actually contain the energy that is naturally generated by the rings. Normal containers had never worked during her time studying there, but apparently a bio-chemical compound had specific properties that allowed for the contain of the energy and a slow, gradually disapation of it back out.
Which is where the name of the message came in. The compound was something rare, but still highly used, in today's cosmetic surgery. Specifically more than that...breast implants. As in Yrel's breast implants. Now it started to make sense. Even after leaving her home, she was still not a day over a twenty year old. She had mildly wondered why, and now she had her answer. With further study, this was what the UFP was looking for in using the properties of those energies for the good of everyone...well, at least the ill if possible.
'Guess I don't need to find another project to help pitch in for, now do I?' she thought and brought the message back to the top. She'd have to now read preverted intro to damn thing before sending a reply, sucking up. This was as good as opportunity as it got for making headways in the community. Having her name ont he developement of some procedure that could help healing old wounds, and slow the aging process would be remarkable.
And all she had to do was say what a good time she had losing her top at a family getogether...
'That's not going to be easy,' she frowned. This was going to take awhile, to make it all come out right and not so much as an obvious suck up. A good sugar-laden foodstuff was in order.
Getting up from her chair, a wave of diziness and disorientation consume Yrel like a flash storm brewing in her head. She reached quickly, trying to find something to immediately support her. Her head found the top of the table, but slipped, and with it went Yrel, crashing with a heavy thud to the floor. Her vision couldn't have been worse, as the floor was on looked like the ceiling, although she wasn't on it as she should be. And then when the room started to compelely swirl like a top, Yrel squeezed her eyes shut, trying to work her hands to firmly plant themselves on the floor. A harder task than she thought it should be, as they kept slipping.
She groaned, pushing her body up as her hands finally got into a stable place, getting up to her hands and knees and then finally she leaned back on her knees. Opening her eyes slowly, her vision was normal. Everything was fine. Yrel got to her feet and looked around at the empty lab, before cautiously making her the replicator and calling for a glass of water.
"Damn Ba'Ku woman, and our turbulant pregnancies..." she muttered.
The ship was underway towards the grimly task of once again dealing with the Borg in all it's green lighted horror. Technically it was now the Beta shift, so Yrel wasn't all too concerned about working harder than she needed to anymore as the crew was undergoing those final steps to be okay for departure. Although most of the crew wasn't all that thrilled to being with as rumours have, yes, already begun circulating about the Borg. Who kept leaking the info to the crew, she had no clue, but it always seemed to get out, whatever it was.
Yrel was seated comfortable in a chair next to a console, lightly scanning through a science new feeds latest additions. A lot was going on in the core of the scietific community. A lot of medicine, mostly. The desires these days to find cures to the incurable seemed to outweight progression in anything else. But, not surprisingly, really. Ultimately, since the scientific study was almost non-existant on the Malinche, she'd send in some inquiries on anything she and her staff could pitch in on. Man power was always high on demand, and she'd no doubt get a few grabbers. It would take away from her position as 2nd XO, but that'd have to do. She came onto the ship as the CSO first anyways, so her focus should in some way be on it.
A message had come in halfway through the reading of an article on advanced terraforming, from a former co-worker on the Intrigue. The title was simply "Regnerative properties of the female body". Yrel stopped for a second and shook her head. Linnens, it had to be Linnens. Little prevert didn't get the hint that a woman of 153 didn't want an over ambition brat of 29. At least, not with constant ushering to join him in the holodeck for a private night on a Risan beach, where he had the choice of swimwear...usually only the tiniest bakini imaginable, and the very point of it to not wear it at all and simply skinny dip. Little prevert...
Yrel didn't bother with the quiant niceties at the beginning of the message, knowing more than likely that if he hadn't found a significant other all that he'd say in the beginning was how good it was to had slipped off her swimming top during one of his family getogethers where she had taken pity on his singlehood and let him pass her off as his girlfriend, just to ease his parents off his back. She had paid of that act of generousity alright. As soon as most of his family hadn't been looking, he had undone her top and tried to steal a feel, making for a "can't keep out hands off each other" impression. She had slapped him, hard, and stormed off.
Eventually, after a lengthy brag of the good ol' times, he got to his point. The Intrigue it seems had been sent back to Ba'Ku to follow a series of new leads towards using the regenerative energies around the planet for mass-use, with a setup of new science equipment. They've had a breakthrough. They've found that they can actually contain the energy that is naturally generated by the rings. Normal containers had never worked during her time studying there, but apparently a bio-chemical compound had specific properties that allowed for the contain of the energy and a slow, gradually disapation of it back out.
Which is where the name of the message came in. The compound was something rare, but still highly used, in today's cosmetic surgery. Specifically more than that...breast implants. As in Yrel's breast implants. Now it started to make sense. Even after leaving her home, she was still not a day over a twenty year old. She had mildly wondered why, and now she had her answer. With further study, this was what the UFP was looking for in using the properties of those energies for the good of everyone...well, at least the ill if possible.
'Guess I don't need to find another project to help pitch in for, now do I?' she thought and brought the message back to the top. She'd have to now read preverted intro to damn thing before sending a reply, sucking up. This was as good as opportunity as it got for making headways in the community. Having her name ont he developement of some procedure that could help healing old wounds, and slow the aging process would be remarkable.
And all she had to do was say what a good time she had losing her top at a family getogether...
'That's not going to be easy,' she frowned. This was going to take awhile, to make it all come out right and not so much as an obvious suck up. A good sugar-laden foodstuff was in order.
Getting up from her chair, a wave of diziness and disorientation consume Yrel like a flash storm brewing in her head. She reached quickly, trying to find something to immediately support her. Her head found the top of the table, but slipped, and with it went Yrel, crashing with a heavy thud to the floor. Her vision couldn't have been worse, as the floor was on looked like the ceiling, although she wasn't on it as she should be. And then when the room started to compelely swirl like a top, Yrel squeezed her eyes shut, trying to work her hands to firmly plant themselves on the floor. A harder task than she thought it should be, as they kept slipping.
She groaned, pushing her body up as her hands finally got into a stable place, getting up to her hands and knees and then finally she leaned back on her knees. Opening her eyes slowly, her vision was normal. Everything was fine. Yrel got to her feet and looked around at the empty lab, before cautiously making her the replicator and calling for a glass of water.
"Damn Ba'Ku woman, and our turbulant pregnancies..." she muttered.
Lieutenant Yrel Sovereign
Chief Science Officer & Second Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
-
Starbase 386 Crew
- Posts: 105
- Joined: Sun Jul 01, 2007 11:38 pm
- Location: Starbase 386
ON: < USS Sentinel ? Bridge ? 1400 hours - Mission Day 1 >
Lieutenant Blake Daggerd walked into the turbo-life nearest his quarters and spoke ?Bridge.? The turbo-lift then hummed as it shot upward to the bridge. As he waited for the turbo-lift to reach its destination he spoke ?Computer, time? moment later the computer responded ?the time is 1355 hours? which meant that Blake was right on schedule. Just then the turbo-lift slowed and the two doors hissed open.
As soon as the turbo-lift doors behind him closed Blake walked over to the tactical station and took his seat. Blake then began to check all of the tactical systems to ensure that the starbase?s repair crews had not messed up any of his carefully calibrated systems. He was happy to see everything was in working order except for what appeared to be a minor vibration in the dorsal phaser arrays power flow regulator. He then sent a quick message to Ensign Sorele to have her or one of the Tactical personnel check out the vibration as soon as possible.
After a few minutes had passed Blake witnessed Captain Lange?s conversation with the CO of the USS Malinche and it was at that point that Blake finally felt he was back in his element. Blake had never enjoyed leave and down time he preferred to be doing his job it may seem simple but it was how Blake operated.
Blake was content to sit back quietly as Monroe quickly crushed any possibility of having a civil relationship with the new XO, who was the latest in the Sentinel?s line of XO with less than stellar personalities. However as soon as the words "You may be able to fly circles around that ship, but I guarantee you she could turn this ship into scrap metal before we could even dent her shields? left the captains mouth Blake was less than thrilled.
Then when Monroe responded with "Firepower isn't always everything, sir," Blake muttered ?let?s see if you say the same thing when were under attack? under his breathe and even though the ensign working at the MSD smirked it appeared that no one also heard him. That was good because the last thing Blake wanted to do was get into some argument about which was more important speed or firepower.
Since the amusing banter had subsided for the moment Blake returned his attention to the console before him.
By
_________________
Lieutenant JG Blake Daggerd
Chief Tactical Officer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
Lieutenant Blake Daggerd walked into the turbo-life nearest his quarters and spoke ?Bridge.? The turbo-lift then hummed as it shot upward to the bridge. As he waited for the turbo-lift to reach its destination he spoke ?Computer, time? moment later the computer responded ?the time is 1355 hours? which meant that Blake was right on schedule. Just then the turbo-lift slowed and the two doors hissed open.
As soon as the turbo-lift doors behind him closed Blake walked over to the tactical station and took his seat. Blake then began to check all of the tactical systems to ensure that the starbase?s repair crews had not messed up any of his carefully calibrated systems. He was happy to see everything was in working order except for what appeared to be a minor vibration in the dorsal phaser arrays power flow regulator. He then sent a quick message to Ensign Sorele to have her or one of the Tactical personnel check out the vibration as soon as possible.
After a few minutes had passed Blake witnessed Captain Lange?s conversation with the CO of the USS Malinche and it was at that point that Blake finally felt he was back in his element. Blake had never enjoyed leave and down time he preferred to be doing his job it may seem simple but it was how Blake operated.
Blake was content to sit back quietly as Monroe quickly crushed any possibility of having a civil relationship with the new XO, who was the latest in the Sentinel?s line of XO with less than stellar personalities. However as soon as the words "You may be able to fly circles around that ship, but I guarantee you she could turn this ship into scrap metal before we could even dent her shields? left the captains mouth Blake was less than thrilled.
Then when Monroe responded with "Firepower isn't always everything, sir," Blake muttered ?let?s see if you say the same thing when were under attack? under his breathe and even though the ensign working at the MSD smirked it appeared that no one also heard him. That was good because the last thing Blake wanted to do was get into some argument about which was more important speed or firepower.
Since the amusing banter had subsided for the moment Blake returned his attention to the console before him.
By
_________________
Lieutenant JG Blake Daggerd
Chief Tactical Officer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
This is a post by a member of Starbase 386's Crew
http://starbase386.antoniemey.com/
http://starbase386.antoniemey.com/
<USS Malinche, Corridor, Deck 7, 1530, Day 1>
Jack was in a surprisingly good mood, the look on Marcos face had been priceless and would keep Jack chuckling to himself for a good while yet, but now he was fed it was time to get on with the business at hand, he knew Rayne would be due on the bridge soon so he thought he might as well head up to see her there.
He rounded the corner just in time to see her walk into what he realised was a turbolift, ?Hey Rayne!!?
Sara had been on her way to the bridge, it was time for her duty shift and she had just enough time to make it with a little extra time. She was somewhat tired after spending part of the time she should have been sleeping, going over some documents she had. Luckily she noticed Hawkins in time to stop the turbolift before the doors closed. "Yes Lieutenant? Sorry long night. How can I help you?"
Sara said with fatigue showing in her voice.
Jack stepped inside the turbolift so as not to slow the ensign down and spoke, ?I know the feeling, just have something I want run by you if it?s ok??
Sara eyed him for a few seconds before she spoke. "Finally found someone huh? Sure I'll go along with it; it isn't like I don't know how to do that already." She said watching Hawkins reaction.
?Clever? Jack thought, before speaking, ?Huh? Someone? Was gonna ask if you might be able to cover my bridge shift tomorrow?? He maintained a straight face throughout, more keeping people off balance, make them question what they think they know?
"Nice try Lieutenant, that?s an old intel trick you?re trying to pull on me. It is obvious you were going to be looking for an assistant after you got the head position in the department. It is also obvious you would look for the most qualified which coincidently means me. It takes more than catching me when I am tired to pull something over on me. Now do you still want to play this game?" Sara smiled at Hawkins and gave him a wink.
?I like games?? Jack paused and reached for the control to halt the lift at the next exit, ?So shall I take that as a yes Ensign??
"A yes to your needing a assistant, not to covering your shift on the bridge. Wouldn't want to see me when I haven't had my beauty sleep. Not a pretty sight."
?Well it was worth a try?? Jack said with a smile as the door opened, ?I?ll inform the Captain and get your office squared away?
"Hmm finally I get a office to stash all my junk in again." Sara said making a small laugh. "I could use the extra space in my quarters."
Jack stepped out of the lift onto deck 2, ?Not too much junk I hope, our ever so mature COB has cancelled the cleaning rotas for the Intel offices.? Jack winked, ?I?ll catch you later Ensign, have a good shift?
"I heard about that. Well I better get to the bridge." Sara said closing the lift doors. It was going to be one long shift today, she could feel it.
OFF
A JP by
Ensign Sara Rayne
Acting Assistant Intelligence Office
And
Jack was in a surprisingly good mood, the look on Marcos face had been priceless and would keep Jack chuckling to himself for a good while yet, but now he was fed it was time to get on with the business at hand, he knew Rayne would be due on the bridge soon so he thought he might as well head up to see her there.
He rounded the corner just in time to see her walk into what he realised was a turbolift, ?Hey Rayne!!?
Sara had been on her way to the bridge, it was time for her duty shift and she had just enough time to make it with a little extra time. She was somewhat tired after spending part of the time she should have been sleeping, going over some documents she had. Luckily she noticed Hawkins in time to stop the turbolift before the doors closed. "Yes Lieutenant? Sorry long night. How can I help you?"
Sara said with fatigue showing in her voice.
Jack stepped inside the turbolift so as not to slow the ensign down and spoke, ?I know the feeling, just have something I want run by you if it?s ok??
Sara eyed him for a few seconds before she spoke. "Finally found someone huh? Sure I'll go along with it; it isn't like I don't know how to do that already." She said watching Hawkins reaction.
?Clever? Jack thought, before speaking, ?Huh? Someone? Was gonna ask if you might be able to cover my bridge shift tomorrow?? He maintained a straight face throughout, more keeping people off balance, make them question what they think they know?
"Nice try Lieutenant, that?s an old intel trick you?re trying to pull on me. It is obvious you were going to be looking for an assistant after you got the head position in the department. It is also obvious you would look for the most qualified which coincidently means me. It takes more than catching me when I am tired to pull something over on me. Now do you still want to play this game?" Sara smiled at Hawkins and gave him a wink.
?I like games?? Jack paused and reached for the control to halt the lift at the next exit, ?So shall I take that as a yes Ensign??
"A yes to your needing a assistant, not to covering your shift on the bridge. Wouldn't want to see me when I haven't had my beauty sleep. Not a pretty sight."
?Well it was worth a try?? Jack said with a smile as the door opened, ?I?ll inform the Captain and get your office squared away?
"Hmm finally I get a office to stash all my junk in again." Sara said making a small laugh. "I could use the extra space in my quarters."
Jack stepped out of the lift onto deck 2, ?Not too much junk I hope, our ever so mature COB has cancelled the cleaning rotas for the Intel offices.? Jack winked, ?I?ll catch you later Ensign, have a good shift?
"I heard about that. Well I better get to the bridge." Sara said closing the lift doors. It was going to be one long shift today, she could feel it.
OFF
A JP by
Ensign Sara Rayne
Acting Assistant Intelligence Office
And
Lieutenant Jonathan "Jack" Hawkins
Acting Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
<<USS Malinche, Chief Security Officer's Office, 1437, Day 1>>
Kaitala had been present on the bridge when the ship had launched, and their new mission had begun. She almost felt strange as the ship moved beneath her feet, and although they claim you can't feel the movement of a starship, she swore she felt her stomach jolt as it jumped to warp.
She hadn't wanted to stay on the bridge long. Being a newcomer is difficult with the best of officers. Joining a crew that had created bonds and friendships would be hard for anyone, but Kaitala was still convincing herself that she wanted none of these relationships as she skirted off the bridge, and headed to the nearest turbolift with a scowl that could curl the toes of a Gundark beast.
Escaping to her office seemed the best viable idea. She felt more comfortable here, and could hide away from the rest of the crew while still performing her necessary tasks. She had spent the past few moments reviewing what little details had been provided by the Captain in regards to their new mission. She was not happy at the lack of detail, but assumed that she would be informed as needed.
She frowned as her eyes rose to watch those in her department busying themselves with various tasks. This joint mission meant, most likely, that she would have to coordinate with the Chief Security and Tactical Officer of the Sentinel.
Tapping the console quickly, she pulled up the crew manifest for the Sentinel and eyed the photo that reflected back at her. She had never heard of an Efrosian and eyed the short amount of information provided for Lieutenant Ra-Daggareii. She shuddered at the thought of having to interact with someone. She had always enjoyed security work, as it usually meant being somewhat alone, and performing tasks alone. But as she thought further on her current position, she realized that as a Department Head, she would have to maintain a rapport with her entire crew.
Sneering at the thought, Kaitala closed the manifest, and stared at the blank screen before her. She was sure she could at least feign pleasantries. She had felt that most of the crew had avoided her since her arrival, and perhaps it was better that way.
A mental nagging, a voice that she recognized as her former self, reminded her that she should make that conscious effort to get to know other members, and to at least be polite to them. After all, she didn't need to invite them over for tea and biscuits regularly, just get to know them.
Kaitala promised herself that she would attempt to say hello to at least one other crew member before the day was out. She nodded resolutely, almost proud of her goal. Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft beep of the console, signalling that she had a message.
Reviewing the message quickly she noticed that the report concerning the saboteur came back, and it seemed that there was little to go on. With the mission about to be in full swing, and the realization that she would probably be very busy, Kaitala frowned. This would be an ideal time to launch a second "attack."
She now felt it important to inform other members of the crew, and to speak to Lieutenant Peters about informing the Captain as well. With nothing to go on, it would be imperative that the crew remained alert. If nothing else, it could alert the saboteur that people were on to him.. or her.. and delay any attempts.
A great sigh escaped her lips as she rose to her feet and strode out of her office.
Off:
Kaitala had been present on the bridge when the ship had launched, and their new mission had begun. She almost felt strange as the ship moved beneath her feet, and although they claim you can't feel the movement of a starship, she swore she felt her stomach jolt as it jumped to warp.
She hadn't wanted to stay on the bridge long. Being a newcomer is difficult with the best of officers. Joining a crew that had created bonds and friendships would be hard for anyone, but Kaitala was still convincing herself that she wanted none of these relationships as she skirted off the bridge, and headed to the nearest turbolift with a scowl that could curl the toes of a Gundark beast.
Escaping to her office seemed the best viable idea. She felt more comfortable here, and could hide away from the rest of the crew while still performing her necessary tasks. She had spent the past few moments reviewing what little details had been provided by the Captain in regards to their new mission. She was not happy at the lack of detail, but assumed that she would be informed as needed.
She frowned as her eyes rose to watch those in her department busying themselves with various tasks. This joint mission meant, most likely, that she would have to coordinate with the Chief Security and Tactical Officer of the Sentinel.
Tapping the console quickly, she pulled up the crew manifest for the Sentinel and eyed the photo that reflected back at her. She had never heard of an Efrosian and eyed the short amount of information provided for Lieutenant Ra-Daggareii. She shuddered at the thought of having to interact with someone. She had always enjoyed security work, as it usually meant being somewhat alone, and performing tasks alone. But as she thought further on her current position, she realized that as a Department Head, she would have to maintain a rapport with her entire crew.
Sneering at the thought, Kaitala closed the manifest, and stared at the blank screen before her. She was sure she could at least feign pleasantries. She had felt that most of the crew had avoided her since her arrival, and perhaps it was better that way.
A mental nagging, a voice that she recognized as her former self, reminded her that she should make that conscious effort to get to know other members, and to at least be polite to them. After all, she didn't need to invite them over for tea and biscuits regularly, just get to know them.
Kaitala promised herself that she would attempt to say hello to at least one other crew member before the day was out. She nodded resolutely, almost proud of her goal. Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft beep of the console, signalling that she had a message.
Reviewing the message quickly she noticed that the report concerning the saboteur came back, and it seemed that there was little to go on. With the mission about to be in full swing, and the realization that she would probably be very busy, Kaitala frowned. This would be an ideal time to launch a second "attack."
She now felt it important to inform other members of the crew, and to speak to Lieutenant Peters about informing the Captain as well. With nothing to go on, it would be imperative that the crew remained alert. If nothing else, it could alert the saboteur that people were on to him.. or her.. and delay any attempts.
A great sigh escaped her lips as she rose to her feet and strode out of her office.
Off:
Lieutenant JG Kaitala
Chief Security / Tactical Officer
USS Malinche NCC - 38897-B
-
Peters
- Senior Staff
- Posts: 202
- Joined: Mon Mar 20, 2006 2:17 pm
- Location: Space, the final frontier...
- Contact:
ON: <USS Malinche Main Engineering, Day 1, 1400 hours>
Peters watched his panel as the time for departure rolled around. Sure enough, less than 2 minutes after the hour the thrusters engaged and the Malinche's moorings and umbilical connections disengaged. Peters had ordered the ship's power generation systems powered up a half hour early to make sure that there would be no issues when the umbilicals were cut off.
As soon as the display indicated that umbilical support had been disengaged, Peters tapped in the command to increase the stream of Matter and Antimatter into the warp core, thus increasing power generation in preparation for engine start. Moments later the main Impulse drives engaged. Peters could feel the very slight rumble that went through the ship as the drives kicked in. It was a good feeling for an engineer.
"Keep an eye on the power consumption, S'erak. It looks like the draw from the exhaust manifolds is a little high." Peters pulled up another display, then turned to his right. "Corrin, be ready. We're probably going to go to warp within minutes."
He was right. Only moments later the indicator flashed on indicating that warp power was needed for acceleration to Warp 6. Peters watched as Corrin (NPC) raised the warp core's reaction rate to keep up with the power demand. Moments later the Malinche leveled off at Warp 6 and the power demands from the engine dropped sharply.
Peters routed the excess power from the Warp Core to building up the ship's battery reserves. He had a feeling they were going to need the extra power at some point, given that they were hunting for a ship that had been attacked by the Borg. He turned to Corrin again.
"Keep the warp core going at this rate for the next few hours, then scale back to twice the necessary rate to hold velocity. I want our Power reserves at 200% of normal by the time we get to our destination." Peters waited for the other engineer to acknowledge the order, then locked down his console and headed out of Engineering.
It was lunch time...
OFF:
Peters watched his panel as the time for departure rolled around. Sure enough, less than 2 minutes after the hour the thrusters engaged and the Malinche's moorings and umbilical connections disengaged. Peters had ordered the ship's power generation systems powered up a half hour early to make sure that there would be no issues when the umbilicals were cut off.
As soon as the display indicated that umbilical support had been disengaged, Peters tapped in the command to increase the stream of Matter and Antimatter into the warp core, thus increasing power generation in preparation for engine start. Moments later the main Impulse drives engaged. Peters could feel the very slight rumble that went through the ship as the drives kicked in. It was a good feeling for an engineer.
"Keep an eye on the power consumption, S'erak. It looks like the draw from the exhaust manifolds is a little high." Peters pulled up another display, then turned to his right. "Corrin, be ready. We're probably going to go to warp within minutes."
He was right. Only moments later the indicator flashed on indicating that warp power was needed for acceleration to Warp 6. Peters watched as Corrin (NPC) raised the warp core's reaction rate to keep up with the power demand. Moments later the Malinche leveled off at Warp 6 and the power demands from the engine dropped sharply.
Peters routed the excess power from the Warp Core to building up the ship's battery reserves. He had a feeling they were going to need the extra power at some point, given that they were hunting for a ship that had been attacked by the Borg. He turned to Corrin again.
"Keep the warp core going at this rate for the next few hours, then scale back to twice the necessary rate to hold velocity. I want our Power reserves at 200% of normal by the time we get to our destination." Peters waited for the other engineer to acknowledge the order, then locked down his console and headed out of Engineering.
It was lunch time...
OFF:
Tony
AKA
Lieutenant Commander Todd Peters
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
-
Starbase 386 Crew
- Posts: 105
- Joined: Sun Jul 01, 2007 11:38 pm
- Location: Starbase 386
<<USS Sentinel, Engineering, 1445, Day 1>>
Kilana looked out into Main Engineering from the door to her temporary office. Since she was only Acting Chief Engineer, she hadn't moved any of her things into the office. While Kilana certainly wouldn' t mind having the job full-time, she was also realistic...she wasn't a commissioned officer and StarFleet was probably already finding a replacement.
It just seemed partly like a waste, all her Engineering schooling, just to be a Yeoman and Chief of the Boat. They were important jobs to be sure, but she missed just being an Engineer.
Her green eyes moved slowly over the somewhat organized chaos that was Engineering. She smiled. At least she could enjoy it for now.
Spotting Mikaela (PNPC), Kilana walked over to her, "How are things going?"
Turning, Mikaela gave a little laugh and winked, "Well, the Starbase crew didn't break much."
"Were we even at 259 long enough for them to get on board?" Kilana mused.
Mikaela shrugged, "You know Starbase crews...the second a ship comes in they jump at the chance to get on board. But yeah, they didn't have much time."
Nodding, Kilana said, "Anything come up since we left?"
"Just minor everyday things, nothing to be worried about. Though I think some replicators are acting up."
"I suppose that's not all that surprising. Have they been fixed?" Kilana looked back at Mikaela.
"I have someone working on it," Mikaela replied. "And it could be worse...back on the Hale, it was the holodecks. Pretty much every day at that."
"Don't even joke about that... The one good thing about holodeck issues is that they're usually fairly routine, but still interesting," Kilana smiled.
"Exactly. So how much longer are you down here with us?" Mikaela knew Kilana's time in Engineering would probably be limited, what with her three jobs...
"I was just about to leave actually....There's a joint mission briefing in a little over an hour that I need to prepare things for, plus a dinner with the Malinche Senior Staff tonight."
Mikaela nodded, "I heard about that. Good luck."
"Thanks," Kilana said, "Is Jon (NPC) around?"
Pausing to think for a moment, Mikaela answered, "No...he won't be around til a little later. Marc (NPC) is though - he's probably your best bet for someone to leave in charge."
Kilana nodded, "Him or you. I'm not seeing him though, so you're in charge until you find either him or Jon, okay?"
Smiling, Mikaela said, "You have to ask? Have fun."
Laughing, Kilana turned and headed out of Engineering. Time to get things prepared. "Computer, reserve the conference lounge for an hour starting at 1630 hours."
Two seconds passed, then a bleep of acknowledgement, "Reservation confirmed."
One thing down... At least arranging things for the briefing was easy. The dinner, however, would be a bit more complicated. She'd need to head over to the mess hall and talk to either the head chef or the lounge manager. Technically the Sentinel had recently gotten new crewmembers for those positions, so she would probably need to introduce herself first.
For that matter, there was still the new Chief Operations Officer and Executive Officer that she would need to introduce herself to as well... Hopefully there'd be time between now and dinner.
OFF:
Lieutenant JG Mikaela Breland (PNPC)
Damage Control Officer
and
_________________
Chief Petty Officer Kilana Nira
Captain's Yeoman, Chief of the Boat, Acting CEO
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
Kilana looked out into Main Engineering from the door to her temporary office. Since she was only Acting Chief Engineer, she hadn't moved any of her things into the office. While Kilana certainly wouldn' t mind having the job full-time, she was also realistic...she wasn't a commissioned officer and StarFleet was probably already finding a replacement.
It just seemed partly like a waste, all her Engineering schooling, just to be a Yeoman and Chief of the Boat. They were important jobs to be sure, but she missed just being an Engineer.
Her green eyes moved slowly over the somewhat organized chaos that was Engineering. She smiled. At least she could enjoy it for now.
Spotting Mikaela (PNPC), Kilana walked over to her, "How are things going?"
Turning, Mikaela gave a little laugh and winked, "Well, the Starbase crew didn't break much."
"Were we even at 259 long enough for them to get on board?" Kilana mused.
Mikaela shrugged, "You know Starbase crews...the second a ship comes in they jump at the chance to get on board. But yeah, they didn't have much time."
Nodding, Kilana said, "Anything come up since we left?"
"Just minor everyday things, nothing to be worried about. Though I think some replicators are acting up."
"I suppose that's not all that surprising. Have they been fixed?" Kilana looked back at Mikaela.
"I have someone working on it," Mikaela replied. "And it could be worse...back on the Hale, it was the holodecks. Pretty much every day at that."
"Don't even joke about that... The one good thing about holodeck issues is that they're usually fairly routine, but still interesting," Kilana smiled.
"Exactly. So how much longer are you down here with us?" Mikaela knew Kilana's time in Engineering would probably be limited, what with her three jobs...
"I was just about to leave actually....There's a joint mission briefing in a little over an hour that I need to prepare things for, plus a dinner with the Malinche Senior Staff tonight."
Mikaela nodded, "I heard about that. Good luck."
"Thanks," Kilana said, "Is Jon (NPC) around?"
Pausing to think for a moment, Mikaela answered, "No...he won't be around til a little later. Marc (NPC) is though - he's probably your best bet for someone to leave in charge."
Kilana nodded, "Him or you. I'm not seeing him though, so you're in charge until you find either him or Jon, okay?"
Smiling, Mikaela said, "You have to ask? Have fun."
Laughing, Kilana turned and headed out of Engineering. Time to get things prepared. "Computer, reserve the conference lounge for an hour starting at 1630 hours."
Two seconds passed, then a bleep of acknowledgement, "Reservation confirmed."
One thing down... At least arranging things for the briefing was easy. The dinner, however, would be a bit more complicated. She'd need to head over to the mess hall and talk to either the head chef or the lounge manager. Technically the Sentinel had recently gotten new crewmembers for those positions, so she would probably need to introduce herself first.
For that matter, there was still the new Chief Operations Officer and Executive Officer that she would need to introduce herself to as well... Hopefully there'd be time between now and dinner.
OFF:
Lieutenant JG Mikaela Breland (PNPC)
Damage Control Officer
and
_________________
Chief Petty Officer Kilana Nira
Captain's Yeoman, Chief of the Boat, Acting CEO
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
This is a post by a member of Starbase 386's Crew
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-
Starbase 386 Crew
- Posts: 105
- Joined: Sun Jul 01, 2007 11:38 pm
- Location: Starbase 386
ON: <USS Sentinel, 1450, Mission Day 1>
Rhyanna studied her notes and crew roster of the Sentinel, sipping on a cup of tea and occassionally taking small bites out of her blueberry muffin. Rhys was on duty on the bridge, probably creating all sorts of mischief, from what she could tell from reading his file. She realized that her twin brother was doing much better on this ship than before. He was able to live again, and get over the pain. She smiled, taking a sip of the tea.
Going down the roster, she decided to get the tough sessions done with first. That would mean those directly involved in the kidnappings and the landing parties. That would also mean those officers who would probably be stubborn asses about meeting with her.
So, the first two people to speak with would be the Chief of the Boat and the Captain. Sighing, she sent out messages requesting meetings with both officers. She didn't know anything about the Sentinel's current mission, but she figured it would be best to get everything taken care of early on.
She got up, walked to the window, staring out at the stars streaking by. She could glimps part of the ship in front of them, leading the way through the vast empty black of space, the glow of the warp nacelles illuminating the front of the vessel that followed. She was suddenly very proud of her twin, who she imagined hard at work on the bridge, piloting the giant craft with careful fortitude and attention...
---
Meanwhile, on the bridge, Rhys was on a streak. He had won 7 games of uno in a row, his console connecting him with opponents in sickbay, engineering, and science. He twirled full circle in his chair, ignoring the puzzled look of the idiot XO. He wondered if he could link up some more opponents from the Malinche without it being detected... he'd ask around to see what could happen.
He closed the game and checked the navigational readings to make sure their heading was still matching the other hunk of junk that flew in front, he grumbled to himself. He still was unconvinced about the capability of the Malinche.
He stood, stretching, and walking over to a replicator.
"My usual," he said. Seconds later, a plate of fried cheese sticks appeared, and Rhys bit into one of them with a grateful sigh. "Lovely. The floating trash barge in front of us couldn't do any better." He smiled, sitting back down, and resuming his serious and intense work of playing uno.
---
OFF.
Poster's Note: If anyone would like to participate in various games with Lt Monroe, PM either Sentinel Crew or Peters.
A (pseudo) JP between:
Lt. Cmdr Rhyanna Monroe (PNPC)
Field Services Representative
StarFleet Medical - Counseling Division
as played by your crazy flyboy and the BEST pilot in starfleet:
_________________
Lt. Rhys Monroe
Chief of Flight Control
USS Sentinel
-
as played by
:Trent
Rhyanna studied her notes and crew roster of the Sentinel, sipping on a cup of tea and occassionally taking small bites out of her blueberry muffin. Rhys was on duty on the bridge, probably creating all sorts of mischief, from what she could tell from reading his file. She realized that her twin brother was doing much better on this ship than before. He was able to live again, and get over the pain. She smiled, taking a sip of the tea.
Going down the roster, she decided to get the tough sessions done with first. That would mean those directly involved in the kidnappings and the landing parties. That would also mean those officers who would probably be stubborn asses about meeting with her.
So, the first two people to speak with would be the Chief of the Boat and the Captain. Sighing, she sent out messages requesting meetings with both officers. She didn't know anything about the Sentinel's current mission, but she figured it would be best to get everything taken care of early on.
She got up, walked to the window, staring out at the stars streaking by. She could glimps part of the ship in front of them, leading the way through the vast empty black of space, the glow of the warp nacelles illuminating the front of the vessel that followed. She was suddenly very proud of her twin, who she imagined hard at work on the bridge, piloting the giant craft with careful fortitude and attention...
---
Meanwhile, on the bridge, Rhys was on a streak. He had won 7 games of uno in a row, his console connecting him with opponents in sickbay, engineering, and science. He twirled full circle in his chair, ignoring the puzzled look of the idiot XO. He wondered if he could link up some more opponents from the Malinche without it being detected... he'd ask around to see what could happen.
He closed the game and checked the navigational readings to make sure their heading was still matching the other hunk of junk that flew in front, he grumbled to himself. He still was unconvinced about the capability of the Malinche.
He stood, stretching, and walking over to a replicator.
"My usual," he said. Seconds later, a plate of fried cheese sticks appeared, and Rhys bit into one of them with a grateful sigh. "Lovely. The floating trash barge in front of us couldn't do any better." He smiled, sitting back down, and resuming his serious and intense work of playing uno.
---
OFF.
Poster's Note: If anyone would like to participate in various games with Lt Monroe, PM either Sentinel Crew or Peters.
A (pseudo) JP between:
Lt. Cmdr Rhyanna Monroe (PNPC)
Field Services Representative
StarFleet Medical - Counseling Division
as played by your crazy flyboy and the BEST pilot in starfleet:
_________________
Lt. Rhys Monroe
Chief of Flight Control
USS Sentinel
-
as played by
:Trent
This is a post by a member of Starbase 386's Crew
http://starbase386.antoniemey.com/
http://starbase386.antoniemey.com/
-
Starbase 386 Crew
- Posts: 105
- Joined: Sun Jul 01, 2007 11:38 pm
- Location: Starbase 386
<USS Sentinel Bridge, 1400, Day 1>
After an uneventful shift on the bridge, and a quick lunch in her office with some paperwork, Megan had returned to the bridge shortly before they were to depart. After all, being docked made running scans and facilitating communications rather unnecessary.
Still, that morning she?d managed to get her station set up the way she liked. She?d seen other officers come and go, and though she recognized some of them from the manifest, no one actually spoke to her, and she didn?t really mind.
The Captain was in his chair and the chief helmsman in his, both looking ready to get underway. She had done a complete review of all systems and felt the ship was ready to go. She still had to finish her report and turn it into the Captain, but it was almost done.
Right at 1400 hours, a hail came through. ?Sir, we're being hailed by the USS Malinche.? Megan reported, opening the channel when requested to do so.
She watched the polite conversation between the two COs take place with some interest. During a joint mission, the relationship between the two Captains would often set the tone for the collaboration, and so far, it appeared it would work well.
She had to work hard to keep from smiling at the banter between Lieutenant Monroe and Captain Lange, and once the new XO joined in she had to work even harder. She?d been told by some that she could be overly professional, but there was no way she was anywhere near his level.
As Monroe did a dead-on impression of Commander Davenport, Megan had to bite the inside of her lip to keep a straight face and to stop from laughing. She could see the pilot was going to make it difficult for her to remain serious for long while on duty, although he sure would keep things interesting.
The briefing should be soon, and Megan was anxious to find out what their mission was, as that would help define what sort of extra preparations would need to be made, like systems upgrades or adjustments. Everything was working well at the moment, but knowing what systems might be put under extra strain would be an asset to being as prepared as possible for what was to come.
As much as she was looking forward to the meeting, she was dreading the meal. The worst thing she could imagine was getting together in a social setting with a bunch of people she hadn?t met, not to mention a group that she?d need to be working with closely. Still, she didn?t have much choice in the matter?
_________________
Lieutenant Megan Garrett
Chief Operations Officer
USS Sentinel, NCC-74673
After an uneventful shift on the bridge, and a quick lunch in her office with some paperwork, Megan had returned to the bridge shortly before they were to depart. After all, being docked made running scans and facilitating communications rather unnecessary.
Still, that morning she?d managed to get her station set up the way she liked. She?d seen other officers come and go, and though she recognized some of them from the manifest, no one actually spoke to her, and she didn?t really mind.
The Captain was in his chair and the chief helmsman in his, both looking ready to get underway. She had done a complete review of all systems and felt the ship was ready to go. She still had to finish her report and turn it into the Captain, but it was almost done.
Right at 1400 hours, a hail came through. ?Sir, we're being hailed by the USS Malinche.? Megan reported, opening the channel when requested to do so.
She watched the polite conversation between the two COs take place with some interest. During a joint mission, the relationship between the two Captains would often set the tone for the collaboration, and so far, it appeared it would work well.
She had to work hard to keep from smiling at the banter between Lieutenant Monroe and Captain Lange, and once the new XO joined in she had to work even harder. She?d been told by some that she could be overly professional, but there was no way she was anywhere near his level.
As Monroe did a dead-on impression of Commander Davenport, Megan had to bite the inside of her lip to keep a straight face and to stop from laughing. She could see the pilot was going to make it difficult for her to remain serious for long while on duty, although he sure would keep things interesting.
The briefing should be soon, and Megan was anxious to find out what their mission was, as that would help define what sort of extra preparations would need to be made, like systems upgrades or adjustments. Everything was working well at the moment, but knowing what systems might be put under extra strain would be an asset to being as prepared as possible for what was to come.
As much as she was looking forward to the meeting, she was dreading the meal. The worst thing she could imagine was getting together in a social setting with a bunch of people she hadn?t met, not to mention a group that she?d need to be working with closely. Still, she didn?t have much choice in the matter?
_________________
Lieutenant Megan Garrett
Chief Operations Officer
USS Sentinel, NCC-74673
This is a post by a member of Starbase 386's Crew
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http://starbase386.antoniemey.com/
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Starbase 386 Crew
- Posts: 105
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[ON] <USS Sentinel, anthropology lab, 1430, Day 1>
Nec sighed sitting in the anthropology lab ?Borg... why?? he crouched in his chair and spun it around... ?Borg are... boring. I cyborg, yet not evil. None known.? he looked around at the barren room the in flawless English he moaned. ?Their is nothing to play with, no info nothing? he banged his head on the bottom of the Chair. ?I can't study their culture because Starfleet knows virtually nothing about them.? Necroskink hopped of the chair I am sooo going to make something? he made a beeline for the replicator.
?Computer, Want wood stuff.? a shiny set of tools appeared along with some small pieces of wood. Nec looked at the wood and frowned ?small, Want 2x4's... lots? The computer chimed ?this unit is too small?
?no... want...? Nec opened the computer and started changing the timing algorithm's he smiled ?computer 2x4? slowly the tip of a 2x4 materialized. Nec grabbed this and started to pull as the computed continued to replicate after the right amount of material had materialized Nec stopped pulling. He tossed the 4 meter piece of wood to the ground grinned and looked at the replicator ?more.?
30 minutes later...
Bijan(NPC) walked in the door and exclaimed ?WHAT THE... HOW... how the heck did you do that.? his mouth had dropped as he viewed his lab covered in stacked of identical 2x4's Necroskink grinned at him and hummed ?making stuff!? Bijan looked at the 2x4's then the replicator Nec grinned and answered the unvocalized question ?easy, changed timing! Front comes first then move towards self. Replicator confused restarts from beginning, fused together, repeat!? he redid it ?See, see the impossible is easy.?
Bijan looked at the new beam then looked at Nec ?this is not what your suppost... I can't deal with this right now.? he turned and walked out of the lab. Nec watched him go then grabbed his saw and wood glue... ?hiho hiho...?
[Off]
_________________
Ensign Necroskink The Immortal
Anthropologist
USS Sentinel
Nec sighed sitting in the anthropology lab ?Borg... why?? he crouched in his chair and spun it around... ?Borg are... boring. I cyborg, yet not evil. None known.? he looked around at the barren room the in flawless English he moaned. ?Their is nothing to play with, no info nothing? he banged his head on the bottom of the Chair. ?I can't study their culture because Starfleet knows virtually nothing about them.? Necroskink hopped of the chair I am sooo going to make something? he made a beeline for the replicator.
?Computer, Want wood stuff.? a shiny set of tools appeared along with some small pieces of wood. Nec looked at the wood and frowned ?small, Want 2x4's... lots? The computer chimed ?this unit is too small?
?no... want...? Nec opened the computer and started changing the timing algorithm's he smiled ?computer 2x4? slowly the tip of a 2x4 materialized. Nec grabbed this and started to pull as the computed continued to replicate after the right amount of material had materialized Nec stopped pulling. He tossed the 4 meter piece of wood to the ground grinned and looked at the replicator ?more.?
30 minutes later...
Bijan(NPC) walked in the door and exclaimed ?WHAT THE... HOW... how the heck did you do that.? his mouth had dropped as he viewed his lab covered in stacked of identical 2x4's Necroskink grinned at him and hummed ?making stuff!? Bijan looked at the 2x4's then the replicator Nec grinned and answered the unvocalized question ?easy, changed timing! Front comes first then move towards self. Replicator confused restarts from beginning, fused together, repeat!? he redid it ?See, see the impossible is easy.?
Bijan looked at the new beam then looked at Nec ?this is not what your suppost... I can't deal with this right now.? he turned and walked out of the lab. Nec watched him go then grabbed his saw and wood glue... ?hiho hiho...?
[Off]
_________________
Ensign Necroskink The Immortal
Anthropologist
USS Sentinel
This is a post by a member of Starbase 386's Crew
http://starbase386.antoniemey.com/
http://starbase386.antoniemey.com/
ON: <USS Malinche Main Engineering, MD01, 1400>
As the ship prepared to leave dock, Akios stood beside Lt. C'eltor at a secondary console in Main Engineering as the. She'd been going over the particulars of the Malinche's power systems with him for the past hour.
"Interesting dynamics," he said. "Not at all like the Constellation and Cheyenne classes."
"The upper and lower nacelle pairs are closely synchronized," C'eltor said. "While they don't operate as a single nacelle, the field lobes merge with less than one tenth the parasitic efficiency loss of the older ships."
"That's the reason Prometheus became the fastest ship in the fleet when it was first introduced, wasn't it?" Akios asked.
"Yes, the designers had expected greater losses, both from the divisible four-nacelle configuration and the divisible warp core. They wanted the ship to be capable of high speed, so they built with extra capacity to compensate for the losses, but breakthroughs were made while the ship was still under construction that virtually wiped out those losses."
"It's amazing how you can go through four years of Academy training and still not get very much depth in systems like this, systems that are used in only a single class of ships. I only heard about that while I was preparing for this assignment."
"Even today," C'eltor said, "engineers tend to concentrate on just a few similar ships, or even become single-ship specialists. Just remember to study the technical journals so that you will have at least some familiarity with systems you don't directly use. Remember, they still expect us engineers to be miracle workers."
An indicator flashed on the panel, and moments later the ship went to warp. Akios watched C'eltor work at the station as the ship accelerated to warp six, taking notes on a padd as C'eltor explained what she was doing.
OFF:
As the ship prepared to leave dock, Akios stood beside Lt. C'eltor at a secondary console in Main Engineering as the. She'd been going over the particulars of the Malinche's power systems with him for the past hour.
"Interesting dynamics," he said. "Not at all like the Constellation and Cheyenne classes."
"The upper and lower nacelle pairs are closely synchronized," C'eltor said. "While they don't operate as a single nacelle, the field lobes merge with less than one tenth the parasitic efficiency loss of the older ships."
"That's the reason Prometheus became the fastest ship in the fleet when it was first introduced, wasn't it?" Akios asked.
"Yes, the designers had expected greater losses, both from the divisible four-nacelle configuration and the divisible warp core. They wanted the ship to be capable of high speed, so they built with extra capacity to compensate for the losses, but breakthroughs were made while the ship was still under construction that virtually wiped out those losses."
"It's amazing how you can go through four years of Academy training and still not get very much depth in systems like this, systems that are used in only a single class of ships. I only heard about that while I was preparing for this assignment."
"Even today," C'eltor said, "engineers tend to concentrate on just a few similar ships, or even become single-ship specialists. Just remember to study the technical journals so that you will have at least some familiarity with systems you don't directly use. Remember, they still expect us engineers to be miracle workers."
An indicator flashed on the panel, and moments later the ship went to warp. Akios watched C'eltor work at the station as the ship accelerated to warp six, taking notes on a padd as C'eltor explained what she was doing.
OFF:
Ensign Turuas'ta Akios
Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
ON: 15:30. Outside Holodeck One. Day One. U.S.S Malinche.
Marco logged into the holodeck and stepped inside, banging the PADD In his left hand against the venus mount on his right, he clicked his tongue deep in thought. ?Da? he said, confirming to himself his own thoughts, and walked over to the control panel on the inner lip of the door.
He went through to the comms menu, and found the shipwide; ?Chief Tupalov to all section commanders.? He began. ?Report to Holodeck One immediately. Petty Officer Danny Scott report to holodeck One also?. Marco closed the comm. channel and went to the middle of the room.
?Computer. Create suspended platform.? In a second, a flat piece of holographic metal had appeared in a square shape, he stepped up onto it, about a foot off of the floor. ?Create grab-rail, three side coverage.? Marco instructed, so that there was still room to mount and dismount it. ?Create mobility and control interface?
As a small panel appeared set into one of the grab-rails, two PO?s came in. ?Chief?? they called.
?Wait? he replied, as four more came in within a second or two of eachother.
?Computer, replace interface with directional control stick and elevation controls.? The panel shrunk into an ?up? and ?down? command key set, and a control stick took its place. What looked like a good number, probably the remaining Section Commanders, had now come into the room and were muttering amongst themselves, they had probably worked out what was happening by now.
?Computer? Marco said again. ?Download program template Botrev Tupalov Gamma One and standby to activate.?
Marco felt out the controls, moving the platform a few inches in either direction to get a good measure for the sensitivity. He turned his attention to the Section Commanders. ?All of you!? he called. ?In middle of room, now!?
He piloted the platform over their heads and brought it down to a hover a metre above the floor next to the door just as Danny came in. ?Ah!? Marco exclaimed, come on up!? he offered with a smile and an extended hand as he helped the Engineering Departmental PO onto the platform.
?What?s up boss?? Danny asked him, eyeballing the Section Commanders that were spacing themselves out on the grid.
?Hell? he replied plainly. ?I need you for something, wait one? he added.
?Computer, activate program.? He ordered.
The holodeck floor instantly became a rubber surface, tracked, the entire floor. A second later it began to move backwards, taking the PO?s with it until they started to walk it like a treadmill. ?Increase speed to level seven? he ordered, the rough equivalent of a six minute mile. The treadmill floor sped up, and Danny?s face was a mixture of amusement and shock. The PO?s meanwhile, were pretty set with pure loathing.
?If you EVER!? he screamed, ?let your rankers fucking embarrass me like yesterday AGAIN!,? he continued, ?I?ll have fucking rabid TARGS chasing you!? Marco informed them, his face red with anger. ?You fucking gnats piss oxygen thieves!? Perhaps he was venting a little bit of his Kersare/Hawkins anger out in the wrong way, but sod them.
?Boss?? Danny asked, smiling.
?Da? Marco replied. ?What would it take to give me a crash course in replicator mechanics?? he asked, looking at Danny and making eye contact to show his sincerity.
Danny shrugged. ?Few weeks, intensive lessons, depends how in depth the knowledge you need is.?
?Enough to screw over a certain toss pot officer? Marco informed him.
?Oh I can do that one Boss, no problem? Danny shot back with a wicked grin. ?Whaddya need??
Marco snorted a laugh. ?A lack of crockery? he answered, smiling but eyeballing the PO?s at the same time. ?I want his coffee to be just coffee, no cup, and his dinner to be just dinner, no plate?
?Hawkins??
?Da?
?Well, boss? Danny started. ?It?s not that simple see, the replicators run off a central database in the computer core, the patterns are stored there and the replicator is just like a delivery system? he explained, slowly, Marco was no engineer. ?To be able to do that, I?d have to modify the replicator files in the database?now that?s easy enough, but it?d mean every replicator on board would have the problem.?
Marco winced and banged the grab rail with his PADD lightly. ?Damn? he said, irritated. ?What about isolating his popular items??
?Can do, again though, anyone else who orders them will have the same thing. And I?d probably needs Peters? rubber stamp to get into the replicator records of anyone on the ship.?
Marco sighed. ?Computer increase to level nine.?
?AH!? Danny blurted, suddenly, making the Old Russian jump. ?I can copy the food and drink sub menu?and link his replicator into that mini database?and modify THOSE files?he would only be able to replicate food and drink though?if he tried anything else it?d come up as a temporary database restriction?maintenance or something? Danny shrugged and held his hands up. ?Your call?
Marco pursed his lips whilst he pictured Hawkins in his quarters, his untidy quarters seeing as the officers quarters crew had been reassigned just before Hawkins? quarters. He nodded slowly, still picturing it. ?Do it? he ordered.
?Ok boss, something else I can do too.? He suggested, causing Marco to arch one eyebrow in a horrifically Vulcan way.
The PO?s were flagging now, they?d done about two miles so far. ?Computer, add hurdles, one metre height twenty metre intervals. Disengage solidity safeties.? The program was stored under a Health And Fitness Training programme anyway, so the safeties could be modified by anyone. ?Da?? he asked, turning his attention back to Danny.
?I can easily access the audio programmes for the ship, get the computer to track Hawkins? comm. badge, and play a noise wherever he goes.? Danny informed him, clearing getting quite excited.
Marco laughed very audibly, a wide grin on his face, he slapped Danny on the shoulder. ?Make it a bloody annoying clicking sound.? He said.
?Yes Boss, I?ll be off then.?
Marco nodded to the door and smiled, opening the door with his PADD.
Danny hit the tread mill floor and ran against it, struggling out the door almost straight away.
?What are you lot looking at?!? Marco shouted. Some of them were in serious need of stopping now. ?Computer, create stationary platform at back of holodeck.?
A long, thin, metal platform appeared and the treadmill floor now disappeared when it met the platform. ?It?s all about pride! Self pride!? Marco shouted. ?Give up if you want and remain a piss worm piece of shite!? He moved his platform closer to them.
?PAIN IS TEMPORARY! PRIDE IS FORVER!? Marco screamed at them, at the top of his voice.
He watched in disappointment as one of them failed a hurdle jump, he crashed into it he went barrelling over, landing on his back, the hurdle disappeared but the PO travelling aftwards on the treadmill floor before being deposited on the stationary platform.
?Computer delete floor? The treadmill floor and the stationary platform turned back into the grid. ?With me!? he shouted as he jumped off his platform and ran towards the door, it opened as he approached and he turned right, heading towards the gym. They were on deck 5, and would have to ladder scramble al the way up to deck two, and go fore too.
?Move it! Fucking move it!? he yelled, glancing behind at the faces red with exertion, snot bubbling out of noses and white stuff accumulating at the corners of lips.
Marco barrelled down the corridor, twenty something PO?s behind him, screaming obscenities at them as he ran with them in tow. Screaming for a clear path down the corridor too, looking for the next geffries access. As they rounded a corner he caught a familiar sight, Jacksons, still walking around with that ruddy ?D? on his front, totally bloody lost ? good drills to the boy, he?d clearly not asked anyone for directions. ?MOVE LAD!? he shouted, to which he got a stunned look in return as Marco and PO?s charged in his direction. Marco was still at the front and shoved Jacksons, hard, in the chest as he intercepted him ? sending the boy flying into the side wall but at least he was out of the way of the running rankers.
?Stupid boy? Marco muttered.
OFF
Marco logged into the holodeck and stepped inside, banging the PADD In his left hand against the venus mount on his right, he clicked his tongue deep in thought. ?Da? he said, confirming to himself his own thoughts, and walked over to the control panel on the inner lip of the door.
He went through to the comms menu, and found the shipwide; ?Chief Tupalov to all section commanders.? He began. ?Report to Holodeck One immediately. Petty Officer Danny Scott report to holodeck One also?. Marco closed the comm. channel and went to the middle of the room.
?Computer. Create suspended platform.? In a second, a flat piece of holographic metal had appeared in a square shape, he stepped up onto it, about a foot off of the floor. ?Create grab-rail, three side coverage.? Marco instructed, so that there was still room to mount and dismount it. ?Create mobility and control interface?
As a small panel appeared set into one of the grab-rails, two PO?s came in. ?Chief?? they called.
?Wait? he replied, as four more came in within a second or two of eachother.
?Computer, replace interface with directional control stick and elevation controls.? The panel shrunk into an ?up? and ?down? command key set, and a control stick took its place. What looked like a good number, probably the remaining Section Commanders, had now come into the room and were muttering amongst themselves, they had probably worked out what was happening by now.
?Computer? Marco said again. ?Download program template Botrev Tupalov Gamma One and standby to activate.?
Marco felt out the controls, moving the platform a few inches in either direction to get a good measure for the sensitivity. He turned his attention to the Section Commanders. ?All of you!? he called. ?In middle of room, now!?
He piloted the platform over their heads and brought it down to a hover a metre above the floor next to the door just as Danny came in. ?Ah!? Marco exclaimed, come on up!? he offered with a smile and an extended hand as he helped the Engineering Departmental PO onto the platform.
?What?s up boss?? Danny asked him, eyeballing the Section Commanders that were spacing themselves out on the grid.
?Hell? he replied plainly. ?I need you for something, wait one? he added.
?Computer, activate program.? He ordered.
The holodeck floor instantly became a rubber surface, tracked, the entire floor. A second later it began to move backwards, taking the PO?s with it until they started to walk it like a treadmill. ?Increase speed to level seven? he ordered, the rough equivalent of a six minute mile. The treadmill floor sped up, and Danny?s face was a mixture of amusement and shock. The PO?s meanwhile, were pretty set with pure loathing.
?If you EVER!? he screamed, ?let your rankers fucking embarrass me like yesterday AGAIN!,? he continued, ?I?ll have fucking rabid TARGS chasing you!? Marco informed them, his face red with anger. ?You fucking gnats piss oxygen thieves!? Perhaps he was venting a little bit of his Kersare/Hawkins anger out in the wrong way, but sod them.
?Boss?? Danny asked, smiling.
?Da? Marco replied. ?What would it take to give me a crash course in replicator mechanics?? he asked, looking at Danny and making eye contact to show his sincerity.
Danny shrugged. ?Few weeks, intensive lessons, depends how in depth the knowledge you need is.?
?Enough to screw over a certain toss pot officer? Marco informed him.
?Oh I can do that one Boss, no problem? Danny shot back with a wicked grin. ?Whaddya need??
Marco snorted a laugh. ?A lack of crockery? he answered, smiling but eyeballing the PO?s at the same time. ?I want his coffee to be just coffee, no cup, and his dinner to be just dinner, no plate?
?Hawkins??
?Da?
?Well, boss? Danny started. ?It?s not that simple see, the replicators run off a central database in the computer core, the patterns are stored there and the replicator is just like a delivery system? he explained, slowly, Marco was no engineer. ?To be able to do that, I?d have to modify the replicator files in the database?now that?s easy enough, but it?d mean every replicator on board would have the problem.?
Marco winced and banged the grab rail with his PADD lightly. ?Damn? he said, irritated. ?What about isolating his popular items??
?Can do, again though, anyone else who orders them will have the same thing. And I?d probably needs Peters? rubber stamp to get into the replicator records of anyone on the ship.?
Marco sighed. ?Computer increase to level nine.?
?AH!? Danny blurted, suddenly, making the Old Russian jump. ?I can copy the food and drink sub menu?and link his replicator into that mini database?and modify THOSE files?he would only be able to replicate food and drink though?if he tried anything else it?d come up as a temporary database restriction?maintenance or something? Danny shrugged and held his hands up. ?Your call?
Marco pursed his lips whilst he pictured Hawkins in his quarters, his untidy quarters seeing as the officers quarters crew had been reassigned just before Hawkins? quarters. He nodded slowly, still picturing it. ?Do it? he ordered.
?Ok boss, something else I can do too.? He suggested, causing Marco to arch one eyebrow in a horrifically Vulcan way.
The PO?s were flagging now, they?d done about two miles so far. ?Computer, add hurdles, one metre height twenty metre intervals. Disengage solidity safeties.? The program was stored under a Health And Fitness Training programme anyway, so the safeties could be modified by anyone. ?Da?? he asked, turning his attention back to Danny.
?I can easily access the audio programmes for the ship, get the computer to track Hawkins? comm. badge, and play a noise wherever he goes.? Danny informed him, clearing getting quite excited.
Marco laughed very audibly, a wide grin on his face, he slapped Danny on the shoulder. ?Make it a bloody annoying clicking sound.? He said.
?Yes Boss, I?ll be off then.?
Marco nodded to the door and smiled, opening the door with his PADD.
Danny hit the tread mill floor and ran against it, struggling out the door almost straight away.
?What are you lot looking at?!? Marco shouted. Some of them were in serious need of stopping now. ?Computer, create stationary platform at back of holodeck.?
A long, thin, metal platform appeared and the treadmill floor now disappeared when it met the platform. ?It?s all about pride! Self pride!? Marco shouted. ?Give up if you want and remain a piss worm piece of shite!? He moved his platform closer to them.
?PAIN IS TEMPORARY! PRIDE IS FORVER!? Marco screamed at them, at the top of his voice.
He watched in disappointment as one of them failed a hurdle jump, he crashed into it he went barrelling over, landing on his back, the hurdle disappeared but the PO travelling aftwards on the treadmill floor before being deposited on the stationary platform.
?Computer delete floor? The treadmill floor and the stationary platform turned back into the grid. ?With me!? he shouted as he jumped off his platform and ran towards the door, it opened as he approached and he turned right, heading towards the gym. They were on deck 5, and would have to ladder scramble al the way up to deck two, and go fore too.
?Move it! Fucking move it!? he yelled, glancing behind at the faces red with exertion, snot bubbling out of noses and white stuff accumulating at the corners of lips.
Marco barrelled down the corridor, twenty something PO?s behind him, screaming obscenities at them as he ran with them in tow. Screaming for a clear path down the corridor too, looking for the next geffries access. As they rounded a corner he caught a familiar sight, Jacksons, still walking around with that ruddy ?D? on his front, totally bloody lost ? good drills to the boy, he?d clearly not asked anyone for directions. ?MOVE LAD!? he shouted, to which he got a stunned look in return as Marco and PO?s charged in his direction. Marco was still at the front and shoved Jacksons, hard, in the chest as he intercepted him ? sending the boy flying into the side wall but at least he was out of the way of the running rankers.
?Stupid boy? Marco muttered.
OFF
Warrant Officer First Class Marco Tupalov
Chief Flight Control Officer
U.S.S Malinche