You Can't Judge A Planet By Its Dilithium

Posts for the USS Malinche's missions

Moderators: Tournneau, Korath, Kersare

Locked
Thundera
Senior Staff
Posts: 185
Joined: Mon Dec 19, 2005 11:35 pm
Location: Nasty Borg Bitch!
Contact:

Post: # 1111Post Thundera
Fri Oct 06, 2006 11:28 pm

ON: <<Basement Warehouse, Day 3, 2000>

After talking with Nolar and Borel for a few minutes, it was realized that they had all fallen down the same hole. But the mystery wsa how did the Sirion crew get all split up. The only way to figure that out was to keep moving on and looking for the rest of the Sirion crew.

"Sir", Cheetara said turning her head toward Mason. "I suggest that we keep moving and figure a way out of all of these tunnels."

"Agreed Lieutenant. Where's our exit?" Mason replied and asked.

"I'm picking a tunnel to the east of us", Rhone replied having already been looking.

"Lets go" Mason ordered as him and Cheetara helped Nolar and Borel onto their feet.

Cheetara looked around not seeing James and Lily.

"Did anyone see where James and Lily went?" Cheetara asked looking around at everyone.

"They were right behind me", Rhone replied turning around seeing no one.

Cheetara began scanning. She couldn't find their bio signatures anywhere. It was as if they had just vanished.

"I'm not reading any bio signatures at all Sir. It's possible that they might have just been a part of this strange game we seem to be in. I suggest that we just continue with finding the rest of the Sirion Crew, and quickly" Cheetara said after a minute of silence from everyone else.

Mason looked around at the faces of the crew thinking of what the proper action should be before answering.

"You're probably right Lieutenant. Let's go everyone." Mason replied. "Rhone, lead the way"

They all headed down the corridor to the east. After traveling for about 10 minutes, they came to a square door. It opened automatically as they came upon it. The light was very bright on the other side, so they couldn't see where they were going into. After going through the door, they stepped into a familiar place. They were right back where they had started from before going through the red oval door and finding two of the Sirion Crew.

"This is just great", Barrett said looking around the room.

As they all walked to the middle of the room, Cheetara looked around. Something had changed. The door that they had originally came through when they first got to this room was gone. Plus the red oval door was now black. She turned around and saw the square orange door fade to black.

"Sir, do you see that?" she asked

"See what Lieutenant?"

"The door we just came through faded to black, the oval door that was red is now black, not to mention the door that we first entered into this room that was black is now gone" she replied.

"What the Hell?", Rhone said aloud more to himself.

"I guess we should pick another door to go through", Mason said. "Suggestions?"

Cheetara began scanning to see if she could get any energy or bio readings from behind the doors. After a minute of scanning she couldn't pick up anything so she tried to narrow the scans down. Just then the blue pentagon door opened.

"Well, I guess we got an answer. After you SIr", Cheetara said facing Mason and holding out her arm gesturing him to go first.

OFF: Tag All
Image
Lieutenant Cheetara Thundera
Chief Science Officer
USS Malinche NCC 38997-A

Sovereign
Senior Staff
Posts: 74
Joined: Fri Jul 07, 2006 11:10 am
Location: Canada
Contact:

Post: # 1112Post Sovereign
Sat Oct 07, 2006 12:53 pm

<<USS Malinche, Bridge, Day 3, 2131 hours>>

"Now entering orbit, ma'am," Tamlin reported as the ship smoothly feel into orbit around the planet that currently resided the majority of the bridge crew, not to mention the very cause of Yrel's sudden placement as the officer in charge of the Mali itself.

"Good news," she replied, lowering her voice and adding, "for once. Status of the Borg?"

"Hasn't moved yet from five minutes ago."

<i>'Oh wait, there'll be a catch, just wait for it...'</i> she thought, slowly looking around the bridge at each of the officers, waiting for someone to pop up with some more bad news to completely nullify the goods news(or sorts) that had been lucky to stumble upon.

And yet, nothing happened.

Yrel let off some tension building in her back and let her weight, or what there was from her relatively light frame sink a bit into the depths of high-rank comfortability of the command chair. There wasn't as much stiffness as she had always thought there to be in a chair of this magnitude, but there still remained a level of sophistication about the chair that did belong there.

"Have the engineers started their assesment of the shuttle yet?" she asked outloud to whomever was responsible for that information. After the shuttle was safely aboard, Yrel ordered the personnel beamed to sickbay immediately for any treatment and physical assesment, while personnel was ordered from engineering to the shuttle bay to determine what happened, in detail, while Yrel waited for word about what had happen out there. Most importantly, if the Borg had attacked. If they did, Yrel would need Kersare on the comm, if not have the senior(what they could lock on to) beamed aboard right away.

"Yes, ma'am. It'll take time, though. It's pretty beat up," came the reply. Yrel was ready to slam her fist on the arm of the command chair in frustration, but instead caught herself in front of inferiors and just tapped rapidly on the arms with her fingers.

To occupy her time and keep on top of her situation - har har - she turned to opts.

"We still have a lock on Kersare?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Nothing on Mason and his team?"

"Nothing."

"Diseastrific."

"Ma'am?"

"Nothng. Just keep your eye out for them."

"Of course, ma'am."

Yrel rolled her eyes and waited for reports to come in on the shuttle and the shuttle's occupants.
Image
Lieutenant Yrel Sovereign
Chief Science Officer
& Second Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B

Hunt
Senior Staff
Posts: 167
Joined: Mon Dec 19, 2005 11:08 pm
Contact:

Post: # 1113Post Hunt
Sat Oct 07, 2006 5:29 pm

ON: <<Basement Warehouse, Day 3, 2000>

Mason looked at Thundera with a look of uncertainty taking the lead threw the doors. The darkness scared him just a bit even as child. Everyone in the group stayed close together in line walking threw the door.

The room they had entered was smaller and decked out in black and white much more like that of a room with no light and color. Once everyone had cleared the door quickly shut behind them with a loud bang.

?Ok, everyone let?s remain focus. Thundera report.? Said Mason trying to ignore his right fingers that had not stopped twitching since the entered the door.

<Tag Thundera>

?These game rooms are starting to drag down my nervous and no doubt someone or something is getting a great pleasure out of this.? Said Mason continuing on ahead.

?Thundera, are you picking up any energy signals or bio metric readings? Something that could point us to another door?? said Mason.

<Tag Thundera>

?Rhone, stay close to our guests while the chief here and myself move to examine this wall. Run a signal correlation on the musical tunes earlier and these odd colors. Perhaps they maybe a clue to getting our of this room.? Ordered Mason.

<Tag Rhone>
While the two took off into different directions all they could feel cold barriers standing between them.

? I might be able to lighten this room up with the tricorders imaging array. Perhaps that will give us a better idea as to where we might be.? Said Mason fiddling with his tricorder.

The darkness soon revealed a small beam of light that reached out to the group. It soon began to grow revealing both the floor under their feet and the roof above them were made up of black and white tiles.

?Well Lieutenant it would seem our day or puzzles just got more interesting. Wouldn?t you say?? asked Mason.

<Tag Thundera>

"What do you make of this Jason?" asked Mason.

OFF: Tag Team
Image
Commander Mason Hunt
First 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:

"Second verse, same as the first..."

Post: # 1115Post Peters
Mon Oct 09, 2006 6:33 pm

ON: <Direidi Courtroom, 2100, Day 3>

Rocco roared. "Could you get on with this? I have to watch my favorite program today! 'Direidi Idol' begins at 2300!"

Hearing Rocco's latest exclamation, Isabel sighed inwardly. She sincerely hoped they weren't still there at 2300 hours. At least this was the last piece of evidence to be considered. Then there'd just be the actual case.

Grayson wondered what that "Direidi Idol" was, but, something told him not to ask.

Peters looked at Grayson and shrugged. There wasn't much they could do but go along with this at this point. "You want left or right?" he asked politely.

Grayson sighed. "Take the right leg, I'll take the left. Let's try to make this as painless as possible."

Nodding, Peters walked to the race area and picked up one of the sacks. He hadn't done a three-legged race since he was a boy. In fact, he couldn't remember ever doing well at one. Of course, those were little kid races and Father-Son events. Not exactly the best example of coordination.

Watching Todd and Mark, Isabel got a little concerned. Generally she had the utmost faith in her officers, but a three-legged race? Each man looked a bit unsure, though Mark looked more disgusted with the proceedings than Todd.

Mark tried to remember the last time he was tortured and tried to compare if the pain he was the feeling there was the same. He decided that the torture would preferable at that point.

"Ready when you are, Spook." Peters put one leg in the sack and waited for Grayson to join him.

Mark put his leg in the sack and sighed. "Try not to wave your hand now, Peters. It will take our balance off . Let's try to synch our steps in way we don't look like two demented people."

Isabel moved forward in her seat, watching closely as the two got ready for the race. She had no clue what the outcome would be...

Peters looked at Grayson and smiled. "Just don't kick any buckets and we'll be fine. We'll move our outside legs together, and our inside legs together... in and out. It's simple. The only issue is, who calls the cadence."

"Five years of Starfleet Academy for this...", muttered Grayson. "You know what? You do it", he finally said.

"Fair enough," Peters shrugged. He looked and saw that the other team was ready to go. A man wearing a black and white striped shirt and holding what looked like an ancient pistol stepped up, counted down, and then fired the pistol. A loud bang erupted, but no projectile came out. It took Peters about half a second to realize that the other team had started moving.

"Move it, engineer!", urged Grayson, dragging Peters with him. "Move your legs, lieutenant, I can't win this race by myself!", cried him.

"Go, go go!" Isabel watched closely as Todd and Mark got off to a rather shaky start. Hopefully they could make up for it.

Peters quickly started walking while shouting, "Inside, outside, inside, outside." to coordinate legs. He and Grayson quickly caught up with the other team, then began to sneak ahead of them.

Mark focused his attention in his steps, trying to avoid any loss of balance. They were going to wiin and maybe that nonsense would finally be over.

OFF:

A Joint Post With

Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B

&

Lieutenant, JG Mark Grayson II
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Image
Tony
AKA
Lieutenant Commander Todd Peters
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

Thundera
Senior Staff
Posts: 185
Joined: Mon Dec 19, 2005 11:35 pm
Location: Nasty Borg Bitch!
Contact:

Post: # 1118Post Thundera
Thu Oct 12, 2006 4:00 pm

ON: <<Basement Warehouse, Day 3, 2005>

?Thundera, are you picking up any energy signals or bio metric readings? Something that could point us to another door?? said Mason.

"No Sir, I'm not picking up any kind of bio signals at all, " Cheetara answered. "However, there does seem to be a door over there in that dark casm."

<2015>

The darkness soon revealed a small beam of light that reached out to the group. It soon began to grow revealing both the floor under their feet and the roof above them were made up of black and white tiles.

?Well Lieutenant it would seem our day or puzzles just got more interesting. Wouldn?t you say?? asked Mason.

Before Cheetara could speak, images started to appear onto the black and white tiles that were on the ground. Cheetara began scanning the images.

"Sir, it appears to be chess pieces," CHeetara stated. "It's an old game from the early twentith century that was....."

"I know what chess is Lieutenant. Thank you," Mason said.

Cheetara looked around and noticed that there were four spaces missing for the white side. King's knight and rook, as well as the Queen and the Queen's bishop.

"Sir, it would appear that we will be involved in another game whether we like it or not." Cheetara began. "There are four spaces missing for the white team's side. That would give enough places for you, Rhone, Barrett, and I."

OFF: Tag Team
Image
Lieutenant Cheetara Thundera
Chief Science Officer
USS Malinche NCC 38997-A

Hunt
Senior Staff
Posts: 167
Joined: Mon Dec 19, 2005 11:08 pm
Contact:

Post: # 1119Post Hunt
Thu Oct 12, 2006 10:52 pm

ON: <<Basement Warehouse, Day 3, 2020>

Mason was starting to get a bit frantic at the prospect of having to use the group in a game of chess. But even he knew that the goal was to get out of where they were in one piece. The pieces on the floor began to change once more which started to make him a bit queezy.

?Thundera, I am afraid I?m not that good with playing chess. My father and uncles would be me everytime I thought I had them made. Alright Lieutenant the lead is yours everyone else please step into the positions that are now left open.? Said Mason.

The floor continued to move and vibrate, with one large thump everything stopped moving which meant only thing to the group it was time to play.

OFF: Tag Thundera and Team (JP??)
Image
Commander Mason Hunt
First Officer
USS Malinche NCC 38897-B

Sovereign
Senior Staff
Posts: 74
Joined: Fri Jul 07, 2006 11:10 am
Location: Canada
Contact:

Post: # 1121Post Sovereign
Fri Oct 13, 2006 11:44 am

<<USS Malinche, Bridge, Day 3, 2141 hours>>

<i>Chief Science Officer, Officer In Charge's Log, supplemental,

There's been a great relief from the bridge staff after the report from the engineering teams came back about the shuttle. The Borg did <b>not</b> attack. The shuttle was damaged by, as indications seem to point to, dark matter. Since the shuttle, and it occupants therein, were focused more on the movement and status of the Borg they were tailing, the concern for looking out for something as generally rare - relatively speaking, of course - as dark matter was overlooked. The shuttle's damaged suffered because of that rendered them too helpless to determine their own cause of injury, but forced them to call for emergency.

The Borg are still out there, but they're not proving to be hostile at this moment. The crew of shuttle are reported as fine from the medical staff in sickbay. Numerous bumps, bruises, cuts, and some sprained or broken bones, but nothing that will be permanently debilitating.

Status from the planet surface is still unknown. The Captain, Peters, and Grayson are still detected on the planet in the courthouse, but Hunt's entire team is still MIA right now. I've ordered a few modifcations on the sensors to try and detect something, particularly their commbadges, but the modifcations arehours away from viability. I'm left waiting in the meantime.

Eng Log</i>

Yrel had long since found a way to cut the noise from the red alert klaxons and had settled into archetectual designing on a PADD. So far she had started working on science-based runabout, having "sketched out" the exterior on the vessel and began working on the interior system specs. It was a good way to calm the nerves while she was left with nothing to do right now. The crew was busy, but she wasn't. It was hard to tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing at this point. This was her first command afterall, how was she suppose to tell what was the norm in command, or in emergency crisis' like this.

"No, the engineers are too powerful," she muttered quietly, tapping at the PADD and going back over her initial design setup. "It's made for science, not speed."

"Did you say something, ma'am?" came the officer at the science station. Yrel looked up a bit puzzled and then shook her head.

"Oh, no," she said. "Nothing. Uh...I'm going to be the Ready Room, let me know if anything changes."

The officer descreatly nodded, as Yrel stood up and made for the Ready Room. Entering she made her way at first to the desk, but as she got closer she started to quickly realise how tired she was. How long had she been up? Too long probably. She had too much of a nack for getting up earlier, staying up late, and wearing herself out without need. She turned and instead went over to the couch and flopped down into it, the cushion forming around her figure as she landed.

"Captian's always get the finer things in life," she sighed, leaning her head back against a single pillow on the one side of the couch. "Just need a cat nap...that's all..that's..."

Yrel was sound asleep.

OFF
Image
Lieutenant Yrel Sovereign
Chief Science Officer
& Second Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B

Barrett
Senior Staff
Posts: 273
Joined: Mon Dec 19, 2005 11:33 pm
Location: Omaha, NE
Contact:

Post: # 1122Post Barrett
Sat Oct 14, 2006 11:11 am

<<Basement Warehouse, Day 3, 2020>>

There weren't enough curse words in any language that Jason was ware that could have expressed his annoyance at thier current situtation. When he got out of here, he vowed never to wonder to this planet again...and would defiantly have some choice words to say to them about it.

And then there was the matter that Jason had never learned to play chess; it was never a game that he cared for. And here he was stuck in a life size game of it. He thought about taking his phaser out for a moment and firing at all the chest pieces; though that might not be the best idea. Things tended to get broken that way.

"I hate to break the news to you all, but I have no idea how to play this game...anyone up for just shooting our way out?"

"That could have less then ideal consequences," Rhone pointed out. "Besides, so far they haven't really hurt us."

"Other then possible annoy us to death."

"Point," Mason conceeded.

"So, what do wew do now?"

OFF: I really don't know how to play chess...lol
Image
Lieutenant Commander Jason Barrett
Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

Hunt
Senior Staff
Posts: 167
Joined: Mon Dec 19, 2005 11:08 pm
Contact:

Post: # 1123Post Hunt
Sat Oct 14, 2006 1:06 pm

<<Basement Warehouse, Day 3, 2025>>

Before anyone knew the floors beneath then began to change between the colors of black and white. Some in the group became sick and covered their heads hoping to wart off the sickness. Rhone was standing just near Thundera. Mason walked over to him seeing he was in a dazed state.

?Weird isn?t it. I know its not the most scientific response to a situation like this but this is not your ordinary situation. Have you been able to ascertain any patterns to these chess pieces turning to the opposite color. They seem to be doing this every so often?? asked Mason.

<Tag Rhone>

With Jason along Mason not being able to play chess, it maid there situation a bit more grim than before. Both had hoped Thundera knew how or they would be out of luck. Hunt looked firmed but inside he was scared.

?Thundera, I am going to assume that by the set up of this chess room that this will be a one time round most likely a short one. I know everyone is tired and a bit run down but we must pull it together and get threw this in one piece.? Said Mason.

No doubt the weight of this situation was now on Thundera, Mason could see the look of confidence on her face also sensing she was a bit nervous too. He walked over to her before returning to his spot.

?Lieutenant look at that. The floor tiles look to be holographic in nature. Is it possible to somehow control them with our tricorders as we move on the board?? Said Mason.

<Tag Thundera>

?Jason, how stable are our tricorders? If we can do this we will need a strong enough pair of them to pull this off.? Said Mason.

<Tag Barrett>

OFF: Tag Thundera, Rhone, Barrett and crew!!!
Image
Commander Mason Hunt
First Officer
USS Malinche NCC 38897-B

Barrett
Senior Staff
Posts: 273
Joined: Mon Dec 19, 2005 11:33 pm
Location: Omaha, NE
Contact:

Post: # 1126Post Barrett
Mon Oct 16, 2006 3:59 am

<<Basement Warehouse, Day 3, 2025>>

Jason arched an eyebrow at Mason's request. It was an interesting theroy but there might be more to it then the XO suggested.

"I'm not sure that would be the issue," Jason started off. "I don't have any idea where the holograms are coming from, nor do I know anything about the system controling them; I don't even think I can locate a signal to trace it back to the orginal source."

That caused a frown to appear on the XO's face, not that Jason blamed him. It was simply a case of not enough information for what they wanted to do or what they needed to do. Jason as slightly familiar with the computer systems used on the planet and even more so with holographic technology but he didn't want to go messing wiht something that he wasn't too sure about; even more so when they may have laid traps for such a thing.

"Back to square one," Rhone mumbled.

"What about Zero (NPC) equipment, could he interface with the system?"

"Commentary: I do not believe that would be wise either, as I could be damaged beyong your ability to repair. I am much to valuable to be wasted in such a manner."

"Maybe I should take care of that right now," Jason snapped. He opened his tricorder again, trying to gather enough information from the surrounding areas about the chess board. He still wasn't getting anywhere, the emitters appeared to be very cleveraly disguised and fairly well hidden.

"I think I might have an idea," Jason said, walking over to Zero.

"Query: What are you suggesting?"

"I need you to retune your optical receptors to emit a photonic pulse, hopefully then I can trace a path back to at least one emitter."

"Comment: Interesting, I am making the adjustments now...although I doubt it will work meatbag."

"Just do it."

Zero nodded and then a second later a bright orange flash erupted from his eyes, creating a haze in the room for just a second. Jason's tricorder went wild and he quickly dashed to the corner of the chessboard. Taking out his phaser and setting it on low, he fired, causing the hologram to shimmer and then disappear, leaving a perfectly accessable progector in its wake.

"Now, we're cooking with gas."

"Query: I fail to see why cooking with a natural substance would further our attempts to escape."

"Just shut up," Jason responded, wishing that Zero's vocal sub-routines would give out. "Let me have a look at this Commander, I should be able to tell you what you want to know in a few minutes."

OFF:
Image
Lieutenant Commander Jason Barrett
Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

Quarterstaff
Crewmember
Posts: 23
Joined: Mon Sep 25, 2006 5:06 pm
Location: MA
Contact:

Post: # 1127Post Quarterstaff
Mon Oct 16, 2006 7:05 pm

<<USS Malinche, Day 3, 2245 hours>>

? Deed de de umm deed um?? Pale hands move in a fluid motion along with the tune Quarterstaffed hummed. The new medical officer had spent some time exploring the room, making every inch of it something she would be familiar with. Her voice lowered an octave and she continued to hum.

Once satisfied with the state of the room, Lynn set out into the hall. It was a little unnerving to be alone on the ship, and she found herself constantly peering around corners half expecting to find someone there.

? Your paranoid old girl?It?s perfectly normal for crew members to be uh?. Gone?? Her feet clicked against the floor, pausing to listen to the mechanical bleeping the ship made. That was one thing that had always fascinated, how a ship was almost living, almost breathing and speaking to you. Maybe that was the one thing her father had left behind, his impression and love for Starfleet and its ship. Back to moving now, hips swaying beneath her teal uniform in time with her saunter.

?You?re going crazy Lynn? absolutely daft. Better not let any of the crew hear you talking to yourself. Then they REALLY won?t? want you as their doctor?.?
Pulling a strand of red hair from her face, Lynn continued down the halls of the ship. It was time to meet who ever was in charge her. If the red haired lass didn?t find out what was going on aboard the ship she was libel to go crazy.

She briefly pondered if taking a look over the medical bay and the current supplies was a more appropriate move, but dismissed it. The thin woman figured there would be the basic supplies and those would be fine for now.

The tapping of her shows against flooring was accompanied by her jaunty humming.
?Off to meet the captain?deed umm deed de de um..?

<<End tag>>
Image
Ensign Lynn Quarterstaff
Medical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B

User avatar
Kersare
Forum Goddess
Posts: 773
Joined: Mon Dec 19, 2005 7:14 pm
Location: Ohio
Contact:

Post: # 1128Post Kersare
Tue Oct 17, 2006 8:49 am

<<Direidi Courtroom, 2119, Day 3>>

Isabel watched closely as Mark and Todd started pulling ahead of the other team. After a shaky start, they were finally acting as a team and making good progress. A few moments later, the race was over.

The two men crossed the finish line, winning by a couple of steps of advantage. "We won, Peters", Grayson said, catching his breath.

Peters sighed mightily as he pulled his leg out of the sack. That could definitely have gone better. But at least it was done with and they had won the race.

Rocco glared down at the losing team, "You guys are terrible, get out of my sight." Then he turned his attention to the two Starfleet officers, "And you two. I've had about enough of you. Thankfully the trial's almost over. Take your seats."

"Almost?" said Mark, unbelieving. "This is so damn humiliating," he muttered.

"How much you wanna bet they pull another rabbit out of their hat?" Peters murmured to Grayson as they walked back to the Defense table. He pulled out the chair next to Kersare and sat, then nodded to the Captain. "Ma'am."

Isabel nodded to the two men, "Good job. I believe they're now out of evidence...looks like the assistant is putting it on the chalkboard now. We'll see what they come up with next, then hopefully get out of here."

"I hope you're right, captain. I'm through with these people," replied Mark.

"I still think a nice game of chess would be the best option," Peters said seriously. "I'd match Grayson and myself against anyone on this planet in a fair game of chess. Of course, whether they'd actually play a fair game is up for debate."

"Isn't too late to ask for a planetary bombarment? That would solve our problems...", Grayson muttered again.

"Now," Rocco began, "It's time for the full statements from the Prosecution and Defense. This will be your only chance to make a statement, so don't forget anything. Any foolishness will result in contempt of court. Mr. Rockford, please proceed."

Jonny stepped forward, flashing a smile at the judge, "Absolutely your honor." Taking a deep breath, he began, "Ladies and gentleman, the two men at the defense table have been brought here before you, charged with bank robbery. Now, unfortunately they were able to pull a few quick tricks and get some of our evidence against them blocked. However, I assure you, these men are as guilty as Santa on Christmas."

Pausing a moment, Jonny beckoned a few timid people forward, "These people are eyewitnesses to the crime. They saw the two defendents enter the bank, wave guns around, and threaten to shoot people if their demands were not met. Why, I'm sure you remember widow Rose....she had to be taken to the hospital because the two men robbing the bank was such a shock to her that her heart nearly gave out. That's right, everyone, these two hooligans nearly killed sweet Ms. Rose. I hope everyone remembers our facts during deliberations and I feel certain you'll make sure justice is served."

As he took his seat, Jonny nodded to the judge.

"Now we come to the fun part!" Rocco exclaimed gleefully. "The Defense gets to make their argument. Mister Grayson, you start." He once again smacked his squeaky gavel energetically.

Mark stood and looked at Rocco. "You Honor, I would like to say the following: One: I comb my hair to right side and the image showing me and Peters robbing the back show me using a different hairstyle. Second: An engineer like Peters barely knows how to use a hand phaser, so seeing him using a rifle is ludicrous. Third, unless, I'm mistaken a confession is made when people actually do confess. Fourth: There are no prove, no evidence or even a shred of conscience in this proceding. So, I object to this whole judgement and insist on our innocence!"

"Yes, yes, yes..." Rocco said, impatiently. He then smacked his 'gavel' again. "On to Mister Peters!"

"Your Honor," Peters began diplomatically, "I feel that it is obvious by the evidence admitted to this case, or lack thereof, that Mister Grayson and I are innocent of all charges. However, with that said, I am somewhat a student of History. I have read about and understand Direidi customs and wish to present my case in a way that the people of this world will appreciate."

Peters waited for the judge to give a grudging not, then cleared his throat. He caught a look of bewilderment on Grayson's face out of the corner of his eye. The look changed to one of shock as Peters began to sing:

I see a little silhouetto of a man,
Scaramouche,scaramouche, will you do the fandango?
Thunderbolt and lightning - very very frightening me!
Galileo,galileo,
Galileo, galileo,
Galileo, figaro, magnifico!
But Im just a poor boy and nobody loves me,
I'm just a poor boy from a poor family,
Spare me my life from this monstrosity,
Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?
Bismillah! No! They will not let me go! Let me go!
Bismillah! They will not let me go! Let me go!
Bismillah! They will not let me go! Let me go!
Will not let me go! Let me go!
Will not let me go! Let me go!
No, no, no, no-no-no-no, no-no-no-no!
Mama mia, mama mia, mama mia, let me go!

Isabel's eyes widened as she heard Todd start singing his defense. She certainly hadn't expected that...


After a ripple of conversation washed through the audience, Peters looked straight at the judge and announced in a firm voice, "Your Honor, the defense rests."

"Finally!" Rocco exclaimed, banging his squeaky gavel repeatedly. "The final determination will be made by deliberation."

Quirking an eyebrow, Isabel looked around the courtroom. She didn't notice a jury anywhere. Suddenly, she had her answer.

As the judge spoke, the courtroom began to split at a previously unseen seem, just inches in front of the judge's bench. Underneat was a floor of sand with painted lines marking out a rectangle that was divided by two metal poles lying in the sand.

Suddenly the poles raised up and a net unfurled between them, causing Peters to groan. Apparently some of the Direidi had been studying his history as well. Finally, the room stopped moving, leaving a full-fledged Beach Vollyball coutr between the judge and the rest of the courtroom.

"Hell and damnation", muttered Grayson. "What is that?", asked him.

A man with thinning dark hair, dressed in black shoes and slacks, with a black and gold button-up shirt that was open at the collar appeared through a door next to the judge and sat in what appeared to be an announcer's booth. "Ladies and gentlebeings and others, let the deliberations begin!" he said into the microphone.

OFF: JP brought to you by:

Lieutenant JG Mark Grayson II
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B

and

Lieutenant Todd Peters
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B

and
Image
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

User avatar
Kersare
Forum Goddess
Posts: 773
Joined: Mon Dec 19, 2005 7:14 pm
Location: Ohio
Contact:

Post: # 1129Post Kersare
Wed Oct 18, 2006 4:37 pm

OFF: NPC post

ON:

<<Direidi Courtroom, 2125, Day 3>>

Britny (NPC) walked quietly into the courtroom and took a seat near the back. Finally, she'd gotten out of doing Darcy's work for Violetta's. Not only that, but she got to watch the trial. Apparently Emily and Kyler wanted her there for the final deliberations.

As Jonny delivered his speech, Brit had to hold back laughter. He was good, really good. Guilty as Santa on Christmas? Now that was brilliant. Rocco was doing wonders as well.

Someone behind her tapped her shoulder. Quickly she turned around, only to see Darcy. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to watch the trial, silly," Darcy said, her blue eyes shining.

Britny was disgusted, "You've been here the whole time?"

"Sure have. You should've seen it. Plinko, Bucking Bronco Riding, Three-Legged Race! Amazing," she squealed.

"Well, while you were enjoying yourself, I had to do YOUR work," Brit retorted.

"Alright, alright, I owe you. You know me, I'll make it right."

"We'll see. Anyway, what happened, since you got to watch?" Britny listened closely.

Quickly, Darcy recounted the events thus far for her friend. Britny's eyes widened as she heard the whole story.

"These StarFleet people are good. I'm impressed," she said when Darcy finally finished.

"Just wait'll the final deliberations though, that should be interesting," Darcy noted.

Britny grinned, "I get to participate."

Darcy looked shocked, her mouth dropping, "No way!"

"Way. Emily told me this afternoon," Britny said.

"You get all the luck," Darcy pouted. "Looks like you made it just in time though, they should be starting really soon."

As the room changed to accommodate the volleyball net, Britny quickly pulled her hair back in a ponytail. "This is gonna be great."

Slowly, she made her way to the front of the courtroom and sat down next to Jonny. Their third, a friend of Jonny and Britny - Nate - joined them as well. The three looked at each other, then at Rocco, who nodded down to them.

With that, they headed to a door at the side of the courtroom so they could change into their official 'Deliberation' uniforms. Afterwards, they stayed near the door and waited for Rocco to announce them so the game could begin.

OFF:

NPC post by
Image
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

Peters
Senior Staff
Posts: 202
Joined: Mon Mar 20, 2006 2:17 pm
Location: Space, the final frontier...
Contact:

Greased Lightning

Post: # 1134Post Peters
Thu Oct 19, 2006 11:36 pm

<<Direidi Courtroom, 2119, Day 3>>

Mark looked at that scene with a sense of ever-growing frustration. There was another game, another ridiculous situation he was being put in. The worst thing was that he had never seen that game before. He seemed to remember reading about an old Terran sport, but he wasn't a historian. He was a spy and spies didn't like sports... At least not collective sports.

But, looking at Peters, he concluded the man knew how that game worked.

He grabbed Peters' arm. "What game is this? What's the objective? More importantly, what do need to do to win?"

Peters gaped at Grayson. The man had to be either daft or totally ignorant of all leisure activities other than "Clue." He took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking.

"You've never played or heard of Volleyball?" Peters started. "It's a simple sport, compared to most played now, but it's still quite popular as a leisure activity. Heck, the Academy even has a team. I should know, I was on it."

It wasn't quite the entire story. Truthfully, Peters had captained the Starfleet Academy Volleyball team his senior year, but that was hardly relevant to the current situation. Still, he couldn't believe that Grayson didn't know the game.

"Listen, 'Mr. Sports guy,' I spent my time in the academy studying, doing martial arts classes and didn't have time to waste playing youthful games, so belay the sarcasm!" snapped Mark. "Now can you explain the damn rules before I decide to make my own?"

"The rules are simple. Each team tries to hit the ball over the net onto the other team's side. if the other team lets it hit the ground, it's a point for the team that hit it over." Peters looked at Grayson, then continued on, "Now, there are three basic ways to hit the ball. The 'Bump,' the 'Set,' and the 'Spike.' The bump is like so, with both wrists."

Peter demonstrated clasping both hands together and striking upwards at the ball. He then moved his hands so that the tips of his forefingers and thumbs were nearly touching, with all his fingers curved upwards. "The Set is like this, you just gently nudge the ball straight up with your fingers so someone else can spike it over the net."

Peter then showed his right fist and swung it overhand with the underside of his arm forward. "That would be the spike. It's the hardest hit to defend, as it sends the ball down at a sharp angle very quickly. You generally only use that close to the net so you know the ball will go over."

Peters saw the confused look on Grayson's face and sighed. "Just remember those. I won't show you how to serve, I'll deal with that whenever it's necessary."

Peters turned back to the defense table and looked at Kersare. "Captain, are you familiar with the game? I can give you the crash course too, if need be."

Isabel shook her head, "No need, I know how the game is played. I didn't go so far as to join the Academy team, but I've played volleyball before." Smiling, she said, "I didn't really expect I'd be getting involved, but I suppose we do need three players. Looks like the defense already had their three and probably went to change...perhaps we should..."

Rocco interrupted, "Will you three go put on your Deliberation uniforms already? The other team is waiting." Glaring down at them and pointing to their left he said, "The changing rooms are over there, get moving so we can get started!"

Isabel looked at both men, "Well, I guess we better get moving." She started towards the door and went through, finding a women's changing room to the left and entering. Sitting on the counter was a somewhat modest halter top bikini, which was a rather nice shade of green.

Grayson and Peters turned right on the inside of the door to go into the men's changing room. It was courteous of the Direidi to have separate changing rooms at least. And they had already laid out the "uniforms" for the two men.

Mark looked at the uniforms and got angry. "I'm not putting this damn uniform on. I'm not!" It was some kind swimsuit and a ridiculous green shirt.

"Your choice," Peters replied, then shrugged and pulled on the pair of swimming trunks allotted to him, leaving the clothes he had been wearing folded on the bench where the trunks had been. He's worn worse, at least, he thought. Then he reminded himself that it could be worse and the Direidi could have pulled an old Earth fashion faux pas known as the "Speedo" out.

A few minutes later, Isabel was in her bikini waiting for the two men. Though she was aware she had nothing to be ashamed of - Isabel had some good muscle tone from her Holodeck workouts - she still felt a little self-conscious. In the past few years, she'd not been in anything less than her standard uniform in front of other officers, and now here she was in a bikini. Part of her wished Derek was still with her.

Hearing the men's changing room door open, she looked over to see Todd and Mark emerging - their 'uniforms' were the same shade of green as hers. "Ready to go?"

Mark looked ready to kill someone. That uniform had really been the ultimate humiliation. He was a spy, an intelligence officer and somehow these people had out-maneuvered and outsmarted him and now they were humiliating him. There was only so much a man could take before he snapped. Grayson was very close to doing something harsh. "Let's end this," he said curtly, but his intensity and anger were very visible.

Peters looked at Grayson. He looked him up and down, then quirked an eyebrow. "I didn't get a shirt."

Suddenly the door was opened by a court officer holding a microphone. Quietly, to them, he said, "When I call your name, run out to the volleyball court, got it?" With a big smile, he turned to the audience, "On the Defense team, Team Thunder, we have.....Mark Grrrrrrrayson II! Todd P-p-p-Peters! Aaaand, the lovely Isabel Kerrrrrrrrsare!"

Mark marched into the volleyball court, brow creased and tension all over him. Playing a game he had never played on an alien world to finish a bogus judgment, just to make the Direidi happy didn't help him stay relaxed at all. His life was secrecy and here he was exposed. This was way beyond having his cover blown...

Peters jogged out onto the sand on their side of the net and nudged Grayson in the ribs with his elbow. "You look gloomy enough to sprout a thunderstorm of your own. Don't be such a sourpuss."

As her name was called, Isabel gave a slight smile and jogged towards the volleyball court to join her teammates. "Fascinating, hmm? I suppose we'll meet the Prosecutor's team next."

"I'm sure they will be professional players, just to make things 'fun' for your hosts," said Grayson, totally no-nonsense.

Peters sighed. "There you go, being a sourpuss again. I realize you're a spook, but you can at least look on the bright side once in awhile. We're at least getting our exercise today."

The announcer then moved to the other side, "And now, your Prosecutor's team, Team Lightning! Give it up for...Nate 'The Great' Korrrrrrrrrrrrrrnil! Brrrrrrrrrritny 'The Chill' V-v-v-Varkire! And, last but certainly not least, Jonny 'The Slam' Rrrrrrrockford!"

"Jonny 'The Slam'?" Mark muttered. "I have a bad feeling about this..."

"Use the Force, Mark," Peters quipped. He just couldn't resist it.

The three ran out to the volleyball court, smiling and waving to the court. All three looked like they were in fairly good shape; it wouldn't be an easy game by any means...

Isabel turned back to Mark and Todd, "Do we have any sort of strategy? Todd, what was your specialty in the Academy?"

Mark shrugged and looked at Peters. It was his game, after all.

"I'm good near the net to set for someone to spike, and I have a wicked serve. I guess I'll take all the serving duties, then float forward to set the ball. Captain, if you wouldn't mind being the spiker... and Grayson, try not to let the ball touch the ground."

OFF: JP by:

Lieutenant JG Mark Grayson II
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B

and

Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B

and
Image
Tony
AKA
Lieutenant Commander Todd Peters
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

Sovereign
Senior Staff
Posts: 74
Joined: Fri Jul 07, 2006 11:10 am
Location: Canada
Contact:

Post: # 1135Post Sovereign
Fri Oct 20, 2006 3:08 pm

<<USS Malinche, Captain's Ready Room, Day 3, 2143 hours>>

<i>"Are you ready yet? I stand here all day waiting for a surprise," Yrel spoke impatiently. Holding her hands up against her eyes was becoming wearing on her arms. She wasn't admittedly well built in her 83 year life, seeing as she spent so much of her time drawing archetectual designs and medicine duties for the village.

"Hold on! I'm almost ready!" came Dyle's sweat, soft voice. "You're going to love it, I know."

"I'll love anything you have in store," Yrel smiled. "But hurry up!"

Dyle mumbled something before Yrel could hear the woman jog up behind her and place hands over Yrel's. Yrel lowered her hands away and continued to wait. Dyle giggled childishly, kissing gently on Yrel's exposed shoulder blades. Dyle was always playful like that when Yrel was in one of her short sun dresses.

"Well?" Yrel giggled back, trying to shrug off her lover's lips for the moment, in order to get down to the 'big surprise.

"Okay, okay! This is for you, 'Rel," Dyle giggled again and finally - finally! - let Yrel see again. She took a moment to adjust to the lack of light from the setting sun behind her, before it all set itself in view.

They were at their favourite place to go, a small cliff overlooking the village that always had moderated temperatures and a gentle winds that gave an ever-so romantic tone to whenever their gathered there. A lone, finely crafted table, sat a few meters from the edge, a cloth ontop and a all of Yrel's favourite foods gathered in suculant proportions. A full five or six course meal was there in complete vanity.

Yrel was shocked. Dyle swung around to face Yrel, with a beaming smile on her face.

"You like? It took me to weeks to get this together for tonight," she rolled her eyes, "but it worked. Right?"

"It's amazing. You got everything here." Yrel stepped forwards to the cluster of brilliant candles that centerpieced the table and could smell the scent of some of the sweatest orchids from the foot of the more distance mountains. "Wow."

Dyle appraoched, and swung her arms around Yrel, locking lips together for rapid bursts of long held embraces.

"Happy Anniversary!" Dyle smiled, nudging Yrel with her forehead. "Four years and counting."

"I love you, Dyle."

"I know. I love you. Let's eat."

<After sunset>

"Was the food good, 'Rel?" Dyle asked as Yrel leaned back in her chair and patted her stomach.

"I'm stuffed." Both laughed. "Can't you see it? Look at this bump. I'm full enough for the next lifetime!"

"Sure you are," Dyle pointed at Yrel's belly. "You're going to have to be to have the energy to handle a newborn."

The smile that had hung on Yrel's face vanish, replaced with confusion. "Huh?"

"The baby. You're pregnant, remember? Dumbie."

"I am <b>not</b>!"

"Yes, you are," a man's voice said, approached the romantic dinning experience from the right. Yrel turned and saw someone blurred and shaded, wearing...a uniform. A Stafleet uniform. "And it's our child."

"What?" Yrel voice faltered. She looked down and saw that her belly was full blown in the late stages of pregnancy. "WHAT!"

</i>Yrel shot up from the couch in the Captian's Ready Room, letting out a scream as she did so. Her face, hair, and upper portions of her uniform was soaked in a cold sweat. She looked around rapidly, darting her eyes like some drag attic going cold-turkey.

"A nightmare," she gasped. "Just a nightmare."

She stood up from her seat and made her way over to the connected bathroom, running the sink and splashing water on her face. The image of Dyle and the man flashed in her mind as she grabbed for a towel and dabbled her face dry of the water and sweat. The uniform was going that have to be changed, and she could probably use a shower later on, for sure.

"Pregnant," she murmured, undoing her overcoat and lifting up the undershirt to expose her middrift. She placed a hand on her stomach and rubbed around, her mind lingering to distance thoughts and past desires that she had was she was younger, in and love with Dyle back home.

Stepping back out to the Ready Room, Yrel looked around and then to the couch.

"And it's our child," the man's voice echoed.

Her thoughts of the nightmare were cut short with a chime at the door.
Image
Lieutenant Yrel Sovereign
Chief Science Officer
& Second Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B

Locked