<<Basement Warehouse, 2206, Day 3>>
"Jason, i think this maybe our way out. Do you think we could use our phasers to widen this crack. I know its a big gamble but as it stands right now we are trapped in the middle of nowhere and this light can't be much worse." said Mason.
"It might be worth a shot, although I'm not sure we should be blinding firing phasers around in here; though given the alternative I guess we really don't have much choice."
Mason drew his phaser adjusting it to level nine high dispursion. He looked to both Thundera and Jason nodding for them to aim their weapons high. He could feel his finger shake along the top of the button. Having took one final breath and sighed and fired into the crack.
Jason set his phaser to the highest setting and fired at the same time that both Cheetara and Mason did, all three red beams converging on the crack. For a moment nothing happened; not even a shower of sparks to indicate that the beams were impacting the crack.
Jason quirked his eyebrow in confusion moments before he realized what was happening...it wasn't cracking because it wasn't supposed to...it was supposed to absorb phaser fire...not deflect it...
"Statement: I am reading a build up of energy that appears to be comign from the other side fo the openning...correction it is coming from the openning..."
"GET DOWN!" Jason shouted, shutting off his phaser.
But it was too late, the crack flashed and then doorway exploded with white hot intensity. Thankfully enough the Starfleet officers had enough sense not to be standing right next to the thing when they started firing thier phasers, so being blown apart right away was not an immideate concern.
The shockwave was a different story, however. Jason was thrown off his feet and slammed into the ground as a swirling cloud of dust and debris washed over him. After a few moments all he could hear was the sound of rocks slowly crumbling and debris settling.
"Zero (NPC), are you alright?"
"Answer: Yes, my exoskeleton is considerably stronger then you squishy meatbag frames."
"Glad to hear it," Jason snapped, getting to his feet and brushing the dust from himself. "Alright, who's not dead?"
OFF: Tag All!
You Can't Judge A Planet By Its Dilithium
Moderators: Tournneau, Korath, Kersare
ON:
<<Basement Warehouse, 2206, Day 3>>
The blast was enough to give the XO a minor headache and a bruised rib but he was still able to walk. Nothing but a clear but bright white light stood between them and what was on the other side. Mason limped over in small steps helping Thundera and the others to their feet. He was hoping that this was not yet another play room or else he would scream. Hoping that his tricorder would tell him something he flipped it open but it did not power up.
"It must be some sort of radiation preventing our equipment to work. We must keep moving forward everybody let's go one at a time and try to stay together." ordered Mason taking the lead with his non functioning phaser in his hand.
Walking threw one at a time the group entered a new passageway similar to corridor on a starship. The passage was short and only had one door at the opposite end. The sirion crew were becoming tired and hungry. Mason handed out water and food rashions to them as watched the doorway behind them close. Having turned his head for only a brief moment he heard the minor heavy breathing of people behind them.
Judging by the looks on the sirion crew faces they knew them and the mission crewman the group had been searching for. Mason went over and knelt down next to them grabbing one of the faces gently and handing the four of them water packets.
"I am Commander Hunt of the USS Malinche, please don't panic or worry we are here to help you." said Mason trying to calm the two nervous crewman down out of being scared and frighten.
"Thundera, the other two seemed to have related to you alot faster than I or anyone else. See if you can try and establish a connection with and i trust our tricorders are working now. Please give our new friends her a once over. Jason and Zero see if you can't somehow get that door open up ahead." asked Mason touching the inner wall of the passageway.
Mason didn't know how or why but he had the feeling they were closer to home than they thought.
OFF: Tag Zero, Jason and Thundera
<<Basement Warehouse, 2206, Day 3>>
The blast was enough to give the XO a minor headache and a bruised rib but he was still able to walk. Nothing but a clear but bright white light stood between them and what was on the other side. Mason limped over in small steps helping Thundera and the others to their feet. He was hoping that this was not yet another play room or else he would scream. Hoping that his tricorder would tell him something he flipped it open but it did not power up.
"It must be some sort of radiation preventing our equipment to work. We must keep moving forward everybody let's go one at a time and try to stay together." ordered Mason taking the lead with his non functioning phaser in his hand.
Walking threw one at a time the group entered a new passageway similar to corridor on a starship. The passage was short and only had one door at the opposite end. The sirion crew were becoming tired and hungry. Mason handed out water and food rashions to them as watched the doorway behind them close. Having turned his head for only a brief moment he heard the minor heavy breathing of people behind them.
Judging by the looks on the sirion crew faces they knew them and the mission crewman the group had been searching for. Mason went over and knelt down next to them grabbing one of the faces gently and handing the four of them water packets.
"I am Commander Hunt of the USS Malinche, please don't panic or worry we are here to help you." said Mason trying to calm the two nervous crewman down out of being scared and frighten.
"Thundera, the other two seemed to have related to you alot faster than I or anyone else. See if you can try and establish a connection with and i trust our tricorders are working now. Please give our new friends her a once over. Jason and Zero see if you can't somehow get that door open up ahead." asked Mason touching the inner wall of the passageway.
Mason didn't know how or why but he had the feeling they were closer to home than they thought.
OFF: Tag Zero, Jason and Thundera
Commander Mason Hunt
First Officer
USS Malinche NCC 38897-B
<<Basement Warehouse, 2206, Day 3>>
Still dusting the various dirt and debris off him, Jason made his way forward. Cheetar and Hunt were doing thier best to calm the newfound crewmen. He had given up on using his tricorder; apparently it was giving him and the others less then truthful answers.
"Commentary: I am pleased to see that were undamaged."
"I wouldn't say that," Jason responded, running his hand over the doorway. It felt like stone, very smooth and not radiating any heat or anything. He ran his hand over the edges, hoping to feel something, althoguh so far he was coming up short.
"Commentary: I do believe there are minor imperfections in this stone that might be explioated."
"Thats great news Zero," Jason responded. "But how do you suggest that we do that, it feels like this door is made of the same stone that the other one was made of...and if you remeber correctly that one exploded."
"Comment: I do believe I recall that particular event."
"Then you know that doing that again would not be the best idea...our meatbag bodies are not designed to take impacts like that."
OFF:
Still dusting the various dirt and debris off him, Jason made his way forward. Cheetar and Hunt were doing thier best to calm the newfound crewmen. He had given up on using his tricorder; apparently it was giving him and the others less then truthful answers.
"Commentary: I am pleased to see that were undamaged."
"I wouldn't say that," Jason responded, running his hand over the doorway. It felt like stone, very smooth and not radiating any heat or anything. He ran his hand over the edges, hoping to feel something, althoguh so far he was coming up short.
"Commentary: I do believe there are minor imperfections in this stone that might be explioated."
"Thats great news Zero," Jason responded. "But how do you suggest that we do that, it feels like this door is made of the same stone that the other one was made of...and if you remeber correctly that one exploded."
"Comment: I do believe I recall that particular event."
"Then you know that doing that again would not be the best idea...our meatbag bodies are not designed to take impacts like that."
OFF:
Lieutenant Commander Jason Barrett
Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
<<USS Malinche, Captain's Ready Room, Day 3, 2203 hours>>
Having a Commodore contact the <i>Malinche</i> was not exactly what Yrel had hoped for as a change fo pace. Dealing with a ship in red alert with the Borg bearing down on them was bad enough, especially with her in command and an almost entire senior staff offship.
The image of the extremely angered officer appeared on the LCARS display. He was human, with nearly all white hair, a short beard, and glasses. He didn't have much of the posture of a man that's been in the high chair for very long, which maybe explain his lack of composure.
"Commodore," she greeted. "I'm-"
"I don't care who you are, Lieutenant! Where's Kersare!" he shouted. Yrel nearly jumped out from her seat, losing what little of her own composure she had built up in preperation of dealing with far higher ranked officers than herself.
"Planetside, sir. They're still dealing with the Dereidi."
"What about Commander Hunt?"
"Same. We've lost contact with them."
His face redded more. "And what position do you hold then?"
"I'm the Cheif Science Officer, Yrel-"
"SCIENCE! KERSARE PUT A SCIENCE OFFICER IN COMMAND OF A WARSHIP!"
"There's a lack of other officers around to take command, sir. So far the situation is not that bad. The Borg vessel hasn't even-"
"BORG! Why weren't we informed of a Borg spotting!?"
"I thought you were."
"NO!" he looked around his office, or wherever he was, and turned slowly back to the screen. "I'm sending reinforcements to repsond to the Borg Cube. When they arrive an officer will beam aboard and relieve you of your command, got it!?"
"Actually, it's a Sphere."
"Then why haven't you destroyed it! You're aboard a vessel that can handle it, I assure you."
"Well, I...uh..."
"Summers to Sovereign."
"Go ahead."
"I'm starting to detect Commander Hunt's party. It's faint, but we're getting something for sure."
"I'll be right there. Commodore, I have to go and attend to this. I'll have Kersare get back to you A-SAP," Yrel got up from the chair and shut the screeen off before there was a reply, relieved that it was over for the moment, although she was greatly discouraged from the man.
Yrel made her way to bridge after a seemingly long absence.
OFF:
Having a Commodore contact the <i>Malinche</i> was not exactly what Yrel had hoped for as a change fo pace. Dealing with a ship in red alert with the Borg bearing down on them was bad enough, especially with her in command and an almost entire senior staff offship.
The image of the extremely angered officer appeared on the LCARS display. He was human, with nearly all white hair, a short beard, and glasses. He didn't have much of the posture of a man that's been in the high chair for very long, which maybe explain his lack of composure.
"Commodore," she greeted. "I'm-"
"I don't care who you are, Lieutenant! Where's Kersare!" he shouted. Yrel nearly jumped out from her seat, losing what little of her own composure she had built up in preperation of dealing with far higher ranked officers than herself.
"Planetside, sir. They're still dealing with the Dereidi."
"What about Commander Hunt?"
"Same. We've lost contact with them."
His face redded more. "And what position do you hold then?"
"I'm the Cheif Science Officer, Yrel-"
"SCIENCE! KERSARE PUT A SCIENCE OFFICER IN COMMAND OF A WARSHIP!"
"There's a lack of other officers around to take command, sir. So far the situation is not that bad. The Borg vessel hasn't even-"
"BORG! Why weren't we informed of a Borg spotting!?"
"I thought you were."
"NO!" he looked around his office, or wherever he was, and turned slowly back to the screen. "I'm sending reinforcements to repsond to the Borg Cube. When they arrive an officer will beam aboard and relieve you of your command, got it!?"
"Actually, it's a Sphere."
"Then why haven't you destroyed it! You're aboard a vessel that can handle it, I assure you."
"Well, I...uh..."
"Summers to Sovereign."
"Go ahead."
"I'm starting to detect Commander Hunt's party. It's faint, but we're getting something for sure."
"I'll be right there. Commodore, I have to go and attend to this. I'll have Kersare get back to you A-SAP," Yrel got up from the chair and shut the screeen off before there was a reply, relieved that it was over for the moment, although she was greatly discouraged from the man.
Yrel made her way to bridge after a seemingly long absence.
OFF:
Lieutenant Yrel Sovereign
Chief Science Officer & Second Executive 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:
Much Ado About.... Nothing?
<<Direidi Courtroom, 2230, Day 3>>
Rocco looked down at Todd, Mark, and Isabel, then over at Jonny, Nate, and Britny. "Congratulations Team Lightning, an exciting victory." Seeing them nod, he continued, "Unfortunately for you, Team Thunder, you lost. And with your loss comes a guilty verdict for you."
The courtroom spectators suddenly began whispering to each other, and the judge glared at them, banging his plastic hammer, "Alright, now, that's enough!" The room immediately quieted down. "Team Lightning and I will go deliberate your punishment and deliver it upon our return. I suggest you prepare yourselves."
"Captain, it still isn't too late to make a run for it", whispered Mark. "I strongly suggest start our own game against these people."
Peters looked at Grayson. "Keep in mind, that may be what they want us to do. On the other hand, we'd never get anywhere with this full room of people. And I think we both remember how well running went for us last time."
Mark gave Peters a stern look. "We got arrested because you waved your hand, that's the only reason we had to run. But, I'm not going to argue with you Peters. You already did enough for us." He turned to Kersare. "We could of course use the 'Kirk' maneuver, Captain".
Looking at the two men, Isabel said, "There's no sense in arguing about who's fault what is now, it's in the past. Which 'Kirk' maneuver, Mark?"
"Starting beating people until they give us what we want. It always worked with Admiral Kirk", replied Grayson, dryly. "I'm serious, captain. When diplomacy fails and this situation tell me that it did, an aggressive approach could solve. I personally, would like to rearrange the judge's face until he tells me where's the Sirion crew is".
He sighed. "And I know you'll never agree with any of this, but, well... You can't blame me for trying".
Isabel raised an eyebrow. "Well, you're absolutely right about that, I won't agree to those methods. Try to keep in mind what history has told us about the Direidi."
As she was finishing her sentence, Rocco, Jonny, Nate, and Britny walked back into the courtroom, solemn-faced. Britny had a sympathetic look on her face and gave Isabel a small smile. Rocco simply glared in annoyance.
Pounding his squeaky gavel, Rocco bellowed, "Alright, order! Order in the court! We have made our decision regarding the fate of these officers who have been found guilty. Bailiff, bring in the table!"
Nodding, the bailiff left the room and returned with a long table. A tablecloth covered it and whatever was beneath the cloth. After moving it in front of the Judge's bench, he stepped aside.
"Before we blindfold you and give you your punishment, do you have anything to say?" Rocco looked down at the Starfleet officers.
Mark looked at Kersare and whispered. "Captain, I have plenty of things to say, but none are what could be called polite... Why don't you say something, as the superior officer and our legal representative?"
"I didn't realize I'd become your legal representative, but I could say something. However, Todd is the most knowledgeable about the Direidi. Todd, would you like to say something, or should I?" Isabel looked at her Chief Engineering Officer.
Peters thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I dunno. It seems to be a bit late to try 'If the glove don't fit you must acquit.' I'm not sure anything I could say at this point would help us."
"That's why we should do what they don't expect us to do... Cheat on their game", said Mark, suddenly. "Let's make our own laws. Captain, start quoting laws, rules that favors us. Since there's no Laws favoring us, just start inventing it. Try to be as bureaucratic as you can, quoting inexistent laws and regulations... That should keep the judge confused."
Mark knew it was a long shot... But, it was a better suggestion than just giving up.
Isabel looked at her two officers, weighing the options. The Direidi might like creativity, but Mark's suggestion still didn't sound like a good idea. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement near the tables. Britny had shifted ever so slightly. Having Isabel's attention, she winked and shook her head.
It seemed Britny was reassuring her. Though Isabel had never personally spoken to the woman, her gut told her things would be fine. Turning back to Mark, she shook her head, "No, leave it be." Isabel then turned back to Rocco, "We have nothing more to say, your honor."
Peters watched as the three members of the opposing team approached them with blindfolds in hand. He wasn't sure what the Direidi had in mind, but the blindfolds were an unexpected twist. Grayson looked ready to bolt, so Peters reached over and grabbed his arm. "Don't worry, we'll be fine."
Then, everything went black. Peters let go of Grayson's arm and waited. After a moment there was the sounds of footsteps, then what sounded like the cover being pulled off the table.
"For the crimes you have been found guilty of," Rocco said, banging his squeaky gavel, "You shall be PIED!"
OFF:
A JP with
Lieutenant, JG Mark Grayson II
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
&
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Rocco looked down at Todd, Mark, and Isabel, then over at Jonny, Nate, and Britny. "Congratulations Team Lightning, an exciting victory." Seeing them nod, he continued, "Unfortunately for you, Team Thunder, you lost. And with your loss comes a guilty verdict for you."
The courtroom spectators suddenly began whispering to each other, and the judge glared at them, banging his plastic hammer, "Alright, now, that's enough!" The room immediately quieted down. "Team Lightning and I will go deliberate your punishment and deliver it upon our return. I suggest you prepare yourselves."
"Captain, it still isn't too late to make a run for it", whispered Mark. "I strongly suggest start our own game against these people."
Peters looked at Grayson. "Keep in mind, that may be what they want us to do. On the other hand, we'd never get anywhere with this full room of people. And I think we both remember how well running went for us last time."
Mark gave Peters a stern look. "We got arrested because you waved your hand, that's the only reason we had to run. But, I'm not going to argue with you Peters. You already did enough for us." He turned to Kersare. "We could of course use the 'Kirk' maneuver, Captain".
Looking at the two men, Isabel said, "There's no sense in arguing about who's fault what is now, it's in the past. Which 'Kirk' maneuver, Mark?"
"Starting beating people until they give us what we want. It always worked with Admiral Kirk", replied Grayson, dryly. "I'm serious, captain. When diplomacy fails and this situation tell me that it did, an aggressive approach could solve. I personally, would like to rearrange the judge's face until he tells me where's the Sirion crew is".
He sighed. "And I know you'll never agree with any of this, but, well... You can't blame me for trying".
Isabel raised an eyebrow. "Well, you're absolutely right about that, I won't agree to those methods. Try to keep in mind what history has told us about the Direidi."
As she was finishing her sentence, Rocco, Jonny, Nate, and Britny walked back into the courtroom, solemn-faced. Britny had a sympathetic look on her face and gave Isabel a small smile. Rocco simply glared in annoyance.
Pounding his squeaky gavel, Rocco bellowed, "Alright, order! Order in the court! We have made our decision regarding the fate of these officers who have been found guilty. Bailiff, bring in the table!"
Nodding, the bailiff left the room and returned with a long table. A tablecloth covered it and whatever was beneath the cloth. After moving it in front of the Judge's bench, he stepped aside.
"Before we blindfold you and give you your punishment, do you have anything to say?" Rocco looked down at the Starfleet officers.
Mark looked at Kersare and whispered. "Captain, I have plenty of things to say, but none are what could be called polite... Why don't you say something, as the superior officer and our legal representative?"
"I didn't realize I'd become your legal representative, but I could say something. However, Todd is the most knowledgeable about the Direidi. Todd, would you like to say something, or should I?" Isabel looked at her Chief Engineering Officer.
Peters thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I dunno. It seems to be a bit late to try 'If the glove don't fit you must acquit.' I'm not sure anything I could say at this point would help us."
"That's why we should do what they don't expect us to do... Cheat on their game", said Mark, suddenly. "Let's make our own laws. Captain, start quoting laws, rules that favors us. Since there's no Laws favoring us, just start inventing it. Try to be as bureaucratic as you can, quoting inexistent laws and regulations... That should keep the judge confused."
Mark knew it was a long shot... But, it was a better suggestion than just giving up.
Isabel looked at her two officers, weighing the options. The Direidi might like creativity, but Mark's suggestion still didn't sound like a good idea. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement near the tables. Britny had shifted ever so slightly. Having Isabel's attention, she winked and shook her head.
It seemed Britny was reassuring her. Though Isabel had never personally spoken to the woman, her gut told her things would be fine. Turning back to Mark, she shook her head, "No, leave it be." Isabel then turned back to Rocco, "We have nothing more to say, your honor."
Peters watched as the three members of the opposing team approached them with blindfolds in hand. He wasn't sure what the Direidi had in mind, but the blindfolds were an unexpected twist. Grayson looked ready to bolt, so Peters reached over and grabbed his arm. "Don't worry, we'll be fine."
Then, everything went black. Peters let go of Grayson's arm and waited. After a moment there was the sounds of footsteps, then what sounded like the cover being pulled off the table.
"For the crimes you have been found guilty of," Rocco said, banging his squeaky gavel, "You shall be PIED!"
OFF:
A JP with
Lieutenant, JG Mark Grayson II
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
&
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Tony
AKA
Lieutenant Commander Todd Peters
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
<<Direidi Courtroom, 2342, Day 3>>
For a moment, the reality of the judge's verdict didn't quite register for Isabel. With all her heart, she truly believed the Direidi wouldn't actually hurt any of them. Suddenly, she felt something hit her face.
It was some kind of substance...Isabel sniffed...Raspberry... Slowly, she reached her slender fingers up and slid them across her face. Slipping her finger into her mouth, she exclaimed, "It's pie. Mine's raspberry."
Quickly she pulled off the blindfold to see that a good portion of the onlookers had jumped out of their seats and headed to the tables. As things grew more chaotic, she lost Mark and Todd in the crowd.
"Mark? Todd?" Isabel knew with the growing volume of shouts and squeals as others got pied there was very little chance of her officers hearing her. She gasped as she was hit again, this time, a chocolate pie. Stealing a fingerful, Isabel moved towards the tableful of pies.
On her way to the table, she saw Britny pick up a pie and lob it in the direction of Jonny. Isabel ducked to avoid the pie, slipping on some of the pie on the floor. Luckily, she was able to catch herself at the last moment.
As Isabel looked up, she saw the pie hit its mark. She grinned at Britny, "Nice shot."
Britny smiled back and offered Isabel a hand, helping her up, "Thanks. I've been wanting to do that for awhile now."
"Oh?" Isabel quirked an eyebrow.
"Long story. Pie?" Britny picked up a cherry pie and offered it to Isabel.
Isabel took the pie, "Thank you. Any suggestions on a target?"
Britny looked around, "Well, Rocco's not gotten pied yet. I think he's about due, don't you?" She winked, picked up a pie and handed another pie to a girl standing next to her.
"Who's on the menu next?" Nate picked up a pie and grinned.
"The Judge," Britny grinned. "Ready? Aim...Fire!"
All four launched their pies in the Judge's direction. Two were clean hits, the other two still managed to hit Rocco somewhere. Suddenly he turned and faced them, "Not me you idiots! Them!" Looking at the pandemonium, he said, "Oh nevermind..."
Isabel laughed. Discretely, she picked up a pumpkin pie. "Nate?"
"Yeah?" As he turned around, Isabel smeared the pie in his face. As some of it ran down his face, Nate nodded, "Okay, I deserved that."
Britny giggled, "Darn right you did. Here's a matching one!" She threw a pie which hit him on the other side of his face.
"Funny, Brit, real funny," Nate said. "Oh, Captain?"
Isabel turned just as Nate held a pie up. Butterscotch now dripped from her face and uniform, "Thanks Nate. I like butterscotch...though I prefer eating it... Have any of you seen my officers?"
Shaking her head, Britny said, "No, ma'am, but we can help you look. Come on!"
OFF: Tags to Grayson, Peters......maybe Hunt's team?
For a moment, the reality of the judge's verdict didn't quite register for Isabel. With all her heart, she truly believed the Direidi wouldn't actually hurt any of them. Suddenly, she felt something hit her face.
It was some kind of substance...Isabel sniffed...Raspberry... Slowly, she reached her slender fingers up and slid them across her face. Slipping her finger into her mouth, she exclaimed, "It's pie. Mine's raspberry."
Quickly she pulled off the blindfold to see that a good portion of the onlookers had jumped out of their seats and headed to the tables. As things grew more chaotic, she lost Mark and Todd in the crowd.
"Mark? Todd?" Isabel knew with the growing volume of shouts and squeals as others got pied there was very little chance of her officers hearing her. She gasped as she was hit again, this time, a chocolate pie. Stealing a fingerful, Isabel moved towards the tableful of pies.
On her way to the table, she saw Britny pick up a pie and lob it in the direction of Jonny. Isabel ducked to avoid the pie, slipping on some of the pie on the floor. Luckily, she was able to catch herself at the last moment.
As Isabel looked up, she saw the pie hit its mark. She grinned at Britny, "Nice shot."
Britny smiled back and offered Isabel a hand, helping her up, "Thanks. I've been wanting to do that for awhile now."
"Oh?" Isabel quirked an eyebrow.
"Long story. Pie?" Britny picked up a cherry pie and offered it to Isabel.
Isabel took the pie, "Thank you. Any suggestions on a target?"
Britny looked around, "Well, Rocco's not gotten pied yet. I think he's about due, don't you?" She winked, picked up a pie and handed another pie to a girl standing next to her.
"Who's on the menu next?" Nate picked up a pie and grinned.
"The Judge," Britny grinned. "Ready? Aim...Fire!"
All four launched their pies in the Judge's direction. Two were clean hits, the other two still managed to hit Rocco somewhere. Suddenly he turned and faced them, "Not me you idiots! Them!" Looking at the pandemonium, he said, "Oh nevermind..."
Isabel laughed. Discretely, she picked up a pumpkin pie. "Nate?"
"Yeah?" As he turned around, Isabel smeared the pie in his face. As some of it ran down his face, Nate nodded, "Okay, I deserved that."
Britny giggled, "Darn right you did. Here's a matching one!" She threw a pie which hit him on the other side of his face.
"Funny, Brit, real funny," Nate said. "Oh, Captain?"
Isabel turned just as Nate held a pie up. Butterscotch now dripped from her face and uniform, "Thanks Nate. I like butterscotch...though I prefer eating it... Have any of you seen my officers?"
Shaking her head, Britny said, "No, ma'am, but we can help you look. Come on!"
OFF: Tags to Grayson, Peters......maybe Hunt's team?
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
<<Basement Warehouse, 2210, Day 3>>
All things considered, it could have been worse and that was something that Jason realized as both he and Zero (NPC) continued to look a the door. Although he didn't know how much worse; they could have certainly been in worse situations. Mason talked to Cheetara behind them, gently bringing the other crew memebers up to speed.
"Commentary: I do believe I am picking up some bio signs."
"Coming from here?" Jason asked.
"Statement: Directly ahead and it appears that they are human in origin; I do believe that they are members of the Malinche crew."
"Great, but how do we get to them?" Jason asked, it was clear that the door wasn't going to budge anywhere. "I mean what are we supposed to say 'Open Says Me'."
And the door slide open. Jason couldnt believe it...well actually knowing where they were he could believe it.
"I'll be dammned," Jason said, stepping through. He passed through what appeared to be a holographic wall and found himself in the middle of a court room with what appeared to be a food fight going on. Mason and the rest of the away team emerged from the wall behind him.
OFF: Tag Cappy and others!
All things considered, it could have been worse and that was something that Jason realized as both he and Zero (NPC) continued to look a the door. Although he didn't know how much worse; they could have certainly been in worse situations. Mason talked to Cheetara behind them, gently bringing the other crew memebers up to speed.
"Commentary: I do believe I am picking up some bio signs."
"Coming from here?" Jason asked.
"Statement: Directly ahead and it appears that they are human in origin; I do believe that they are members of the Malinche crew."
"Great, but how do we get to them?" Jason asked, it was clear that the door wasn't going to budge anywhere. "I mean what are we supposed to say 'Open Says Me'."
And the door slide open. Jason couldnt believe it...well actually knowing where they were he could believe it.
"I'll be dammned," Jason said, stepping through. He passed through what appeared to be a holographic wall and found himself in the middle of a court room with what appeared to be a food fight going on. Mason and the rest of the away team emerged from the wall behind him.
OFF: Tag Cappy and others!
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:
<<USS Malinche, Sickbay, Day 3, 2242 hours>>
"That should fix you up, my good sir." A red head giggled as she helped a crew member from the Biobed. " The reading show you are perfectly healthy, aside from a few contusions. I'd say you have luck with you."
Lynn gave the man a last nod of her head and excused him form sick bay. 'Hopefully he'll stay out of the crews way... heavens knows they don't need the distraction.' she mused as her eyes watched him go, and then moved as soon as the bays doors slide shut.
?Who?s next?" Her tone was light and airy, something Lynn wished her doctors as a young'un had. The Ensign's next patient was a woman who was in her mid thirties.
"Can you tell me where it hurts?" She asked jovially. The woman narrowed her eyes and muttered something under her breathe. It sounded an awful lot like: ' medicine is a serious practice.'
Lynn was taken back a second. ?Excuse me?" A wave of the patients hand dismissed the comment from between them but not from Lynn's mind. The rest of the woman?s' examination was relatively silent and all speech was restricted to asking questions on how the patient felt. Finally Lynn summed up her patients health and administered salves to a few abrasions the woman had acquired.
?You?ll be fine. Rest and a good meal should solve everything."
In the traditional Irish fashion Lynn smiled at the mention of food and simply moved on.
'Only two more members who need to be check up on and we're golden.' she breathed out.
Soon enough Lynn was finished and she excused herself to the bathroom, fixing red hair that had wiggled its way from her hair tie. Both eyes closed for a fleeting second and The young woman placed her head on the cool glass. She sighed, red hair tumbling out of the hair tie again, rebelling against it's owner.
"Oh its silly to get worked up over one woman. " she scolded her reflection and straightened up. Realizing she had a small peppermint on her, Lynn smiled and popped it into her mouth. It took the Ensign a moment or two to finish washing her hands and be gone, out to the sick bay again to meet with any nurses she could find and pump them for information on what was stocked, what was needed, and any sort of patients she should know of.
< Off>
"That should fix you up, my good sir." A red head giggled as she helped a crew member from the Biobed. " The reading show you are perfectly healthy, aside from a few contusions. I'd say you have luck with you."
Lynn gave the man a last nod of her head and excused him form sick bay. 'Hopefully he'll stay out of the crews way... heavens knows they don't need the distraction.' she mused as her eyes watched him go, and then moved as soon as the bays doors slide shut.
?Who?s next?" Her tone was light and airy, something Lynn wished her doctors as a young'un had. The Ensign's next patient was a woman who was in her mid thirties.
"Can you tell me where it hurts?" She asked jovially. The woman narrowed her eyes and muttered something under her breathe. It sounded an awful lot like: ' medicine is a serious practice.'
Lynn was taken back a second. ?Excuse me?" A wave of the patients hand dismissed the comment from between them but not from Lynn's mind. The rest of the woman?s' examination was relatively silent and all speech was restricted to asking questions on how the patient felt. Finally Lynn summed up her patients health and administered salves to a few abrasions the woman had acquired.
?You?ll be fine. Rest and a good meal should solve everything."
In the traditional Irish fashion Lynn smiled at the mention of food and simply moved on.
'Only two more members who need to be check up on and we're golden.' she breathed out.
Soon enough Lynn was finished and she excused herself to the bathroom, fixing red hair that had wiggled its way from her hair tie. Both eyes closed for a fleeting second and The young woman placed her head on the cool glass. She sighed, red hair tumbling out of the hair tie again, rebelling against it's owner.
"Oh its silly to get worked up over one woman. " she scolded her reflection and straightened up. Realizing she had a small peppermint on her, Lynn smiled and popped it into her mouth. It took the Ensign a moment or two to finish washing her hands and be gone, out to the sick bay again to meet with any nurses she could find and pump them for information on what was stocked, what was needed, and any sort of patients she should know of.
< Off>
Ensign Lynn Quarterstaff
Medical 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: <<Direidi Courtroom, 2342, Day 3>>
Peters heard the judge?s pronouncement and had to fight off a laugh. As he heard footsteps moving back towards the table he yanked his blindfold off. He ran to the table before any of the Direidi could toss a pie, grabbed a cream one, and hurled it at Grayson.
Suddenly it seemed as though pies were flying everywhere. Through a side wall came Commander Hunt's party. Peters put on his most evil grin and welcomed them all with a pie to the face. He then got pummeled by a half a dozen pies from the audience.
Wiping mixed pie fillings off his face, he headed back for the table in time to see Kersare land a pie on the judge. With a snicker, Peters found their now-fired "Lawyer" in the crowd. Grabbing a pie, he snuck up behind the man and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Yes?" he asked as he turned around.
"Special Delivery for the Defense Counsel," Peters replied. He pulled the pie around from behind his back and shoved it into the man's face. "Don't quit your day job."
As Peters looked back towards the table of pies he saw that another two tables had been brought in, loaded down with pies, and the pie fight was now a melee with pies flying at random with no regard for sides. Perfect.
A pie broadsided him, covering the left side of his face with sticky cherry filling. Another pie, Lemon Meringue, smacked into Peters' stomach, and the young Engineer briefly mourned the waste of a good lemon pie. Then, finding a pie suddenly in each hand, Peters waded back into the middle of the fray.
OFF:
Peters heard the judge?s pronouncement and had to fight off a laugh. As he heard footsteps moving back towards the table he yanked his blindfold off. He ran to the table before any of the Direidi could toss a pie, grabbed a cream one, and hurled it at Grayson.
Suddenly it seemed as though pies were flying everywhere. Through a side wall came Commander Hunt's party. Peters put on his most evil grin and welcomed them all with a pie to the face. He then got pummeled by a half a dozen pies from the audience.
Wiping mixed pie fillings off his face, he headed back for the table in time to see Kersare land a pie on the judge. With a snicker, Peters found their now-fired "Lawyer" in the crowd. Grabbing a pie, he snuck up behind the man and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Yes?" he asked as he turned around.
"Special Delivery for the Defense Counsel," Peters replied. He pulled the pie around from behind his back and shoved it into the man's face. "Don't quit your day job."
As Peters looked back towards the table of pies he saw that another two tables had been brought in, loaded down with pies, and the pie fight was now a melee with pies flying at random with no regard for sides. Perfect.
A pie broadsided him, covering the left side of his face with sticky cherry filling. Another pie, Lemon Meringue, smacked into Peters' stomach, and the young Engineer briefly mourned the waste of a good lemon pie. Then, finding a pie suddenly in each hand, Peters waded back into the middle of the fray.
OFF:
Tony
AKA
Lieutenant Commander Todd Peters
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
ON: <<Direidi Courtroom, 2342, Day 3>>
OLD:
Peters heard the judge?s pronouncement and had to fight off a laugh. As he heard footsteps moving back towards the table he yanked his blindfold off. He ran to the table before any of the Direidi could toss a pie, grabbed a cream one, and hurled it at Grayson.
NEW:
Mark stood there, shock stamped on his face. The pie contents started dripping on the floor. Anger grew like a supernova in his chest and he uttered "PETERS!!"
He found the engineer throwing pies and with a smile on his face. Mark grabbed the nearest pie he found and made an furtive approach on the engineer. Pies flew everywhere and Mark thought for a moment seeing Kersare throwing a Pie on the Judge's face.
Mark touched Peters shoulder and as the Engineer turned to face him, Mark shove the pie on his face with such strength that it looked like Peters had been punched. The engineer fell backwards into the floor.
The spook leaned down and whispered to Peters. "Just because we're judged and stuck together on this mission, don't expect me to be your friend, grease monkey. Stay away from me, if you know what's good for you." His tone was low and yet sounded deadly.
Leaving Peters behind, he straightned up and saw a pie flying on his direction. He ducked and went straight to his attacker. He grabbed the man by shirt and pushed him into a table full of pies. The man landed causing a loud "SPLUT" sound.
"That's what I could classify as a death by pie or... A Piemicide", muttered Mark, cleaning pie off his face.
With some difficulty, Mark dodge some pie and left the court by the Judge's door. He went to retrieve his uniform back at the abandoned house. After that, he thought, he was done with that planet. No doubt the Syrion crew was fine and the Direidi had their fun.
"I hate this planet", Mark muttered, as he walked through the empty streets.
OFF:
OLD:
Peters heard the judge?s pronouncement and had to fight off a laugh. As he heard footsteps moving back towards the table he yanked his blindfold off. He ran to the table before any of the Direidi could toss a pie, grabbed a cream one, and hurled it at Grayson.
NEW:
Mark stood there, shock stamped on his face. The pie contents started dripping on the floor. Anger grew like a supernova in his chest and he uttered "PETERS!!"
He found the engineer throwing pies and with a smile on his face. Mark grabbed the nearest pie he found and made an furtive approach on the engineer. Pies flew everywhere and Mark thought for a moment seeing Kersare throwing a Pie on the Judge's face.
Mark touched Peters shoulder and as the Engineer turned to face him, Mark shove the pie on his face with such strength that it looked like Peters had been punched. The engineer fell backwards into the floor.
The spook leaned down and whispered to Peters. "Just because we're judged and stuck together on this mission, don't expect me to be your friend, grease monkey. Stay away from me, if you know what's good for you." His tone was low and yet sounded deadly.
Leaving Peters behind, he straightned up and saw a pie flying on his direction. He ducked and went straight to his attacker. He grabbed the man by shirt and pushed him into a table full of pies. The man landed causing a loud "SPLUT" sound.
"That's what I could classify as a death by pie or... A Piemicide", muttered Mark, cleaning pie off his face.
With some difficulty, Mark dodge some pie and left the court by the Judge's door. He went to retrieve his uniform back at the abandoned house. After that, he thought, he was done with that planet. No doubt the Syrion crew was fine and the Direidi had their fun.
"I hate this planet", Mark muttered, as he walked through the empty streets.
OFF:
Lieutenant Mark Grayson II
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
"O divine art of subtlety and secrecy! Through you we learn to be invisible, through you inaudible and hence we can hold the enemy's fate in our hands." - Sun Tzu
ON:<<Bridge, 2345 hours, Day 3>>
Yrel had spent the last hour working with the bridge staff on isolating the half signal they had gotten from Hunt's comm badge. They had tried many basic things in the beginning, but the signal was too distorted and eractic to get a firm lock. About twenty minutes ago she had made an attemp at communication, but it failed. There was no repsonse.
Stress had been building quite a bit in the old Ba'Ku woman, having to been yelled at by a Commodore, and this situation of getting a hold of Hunts party when they were in unknown circumstances, possibly in danger. It was wearing her down.
Then the signal came in loud and clear. Hunt's entire party, plus some extra mixed lifesigns of possibly the Sirion crew, all appaered in the courtroom. Just like that.
"Sovereign to...uh..." she didn't know wuite who to address with some many people there to possibly call. It didn't matter, within seconds all that could be heard was laughter and people yelling in play. She looked over to Tamlin and Summers. "What are they doing?"
Yrel shook her head. There was a serious situation on their hands that still had to be dealt with, and games were being played? Direidi...
"Summers, lock on to Hunt's party and beam them here. We need to make sure they're okay," she ordered.
"Yes ma'am," he replied.
A second later a transporter haze appeared on the floor in front of Yrel. It wasn't nearly as big as what should have encompassed an entire party. When it finished all that was there, sitting perfect and unscathed, was a...
A...pie.
"Oh, man," Yrel slapped her hand to her forehead. "What are they doing!?"
"Having fun ma'am," Tamlin said. "Maybe you should too..."
"Huh?" Yrel looked up at the ensign when the pie, once on the floor, creamed her in the face dead on. The cream and chocolate filling slowly slid down her face and onto her uniform. "Th-th-thanks...I-I-I really apparicate that..."
"No problem, Lieutenant!" Tamlin returned to his seat and broke out into hysteria.
"I'm going to change," she said, got up and left the bridge for her quarters.
OFF
Yrel had spent the last hour working with the bridge staff on isolating the half signal they had gotten from Hunt's comm badge. They had tried many basic things in the beginning, but the signal was too distorted and eractic to get a firm lock. About twenty minutes ago she had made an attemp at communication, but it failed. There was no repsonse.
Stress had been building quite a bit in the old Ba'Ku woman, having to been yelled at by a Commodore, and this situation of getting a hold of Hunts party when they were in unknown circumstances, possibly in danger. It was wearing her down.
Then the signal came in loud and clear. Hunt's entire party, plus some extra mixed lifesigns of possibly the Sirion crew, all appaered in the courtroom. Just like that.
"Sovereign to...uh..." she didn't know wuite who to address with some many people there to possibly call. It didn't matter, within seconds all that could be heard was laughter and people yelling in play. She looked over to Tamlin and Summers. "What are they doing?"
Yrel shook her head. There was a serious situation on their hands that still had to be dealt with, and games were being played? Direidi...
"Summers, lock on to Hunt's party and beam them here. We need to make sure they're okay," she ordered.
"Yes ma'am," he replied.
A second later a transporter haze appeared on the floor in front of Yrel. It wasn't nearly as big as what should have encompassed an entire party. When it finished all that was there, sitting perfect and unscathed, was a...
A...pie.
"Oh, man," Yrel slapped her hand to her forehead. "What are they doing!?"
"Having fun ma'am," Tamlin said. "Maybe you should too..."
"Huh?" Yrel looked up at the ensign when the pie, once on the floor, creamed her in the face dead on. The cream and chocolate filling slowly slid down her face and onto her uniform. "Th-th-thanks...I-I-I really apparicate that..."
"No problem, Lieutenant!" Tamlin returned to his seat and broke out into hysteria.
"I'm going to change," she said, got up and left the bridge for her quarters.
OFF
Lieutenant Yrel Sovereign
Chief Science Officer & Second Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Arrival of the CTO
ON:
<<Shuttlecraft Antares IV, 0230, Day 4>>
James looked up from beneath his stetson hat and tipped back the brim, squinting a bit. He was tired. It had been a long flight out here from Betazed. The USS Trafalgar, Starbase 27's Danube runabout Dneiper, on to Starbase 312 to grab a transport shuttle over to 259 where he'd meet up with his new assignment, the USS Malinche.
'No, it's the Malinche B...' He reminded himself, nodding in the early wee hours of the morning as he yawned. The previous Malinche had been decimated and nearly destroyed by a group of Maquis raider ships and promptly decommissioned.
"We're now arriving at Starbase 259, everyone please remain seated until we've completed docking maneuvers." Said the pilot over the internal comm system. There was only himself, a Liseppian merchant, and two Vulcans, probably scientists, on the transport. He yawned and ignored the pilot's warning of staying seated, standing up to stretch. He didn't mind acting or getting up and moving around. It was the waiting he hated most of all.
The shuttle docked and Jim slung his knapsack over his shoulder, then picked up the large duffel bag full of his few more memorable things. The cargo hold held a case of his military antiques. If the Malinche-B was to be his new home, then he would damn well make it feel like home.
He shuffled off the shuttlecraft with everyone else and made his way through the shuttle docking bay of the Starbase towards the main area to talk to a quartermaster about temporary quarters until his ship would arrive.
"Deck Officer." He said gruffly to a nearby mustard collared junior grade Lieutenant.
"Uh yes sir?" Asked the man, nodding to him. When he noticed the superior rank on James' collar, he snapped off a quick salute.
"Where can I find the Quartermaster's office?" The Texan asked, tipping back his black stetson hat.
"Deck forty three, Section A sir." Said the deck officer.
"Thank ya kindly." He said, pulling on the brim in a slight tip of the hat to the younger man before making his way to the interior of the starbase.
<<Starbase 259, Deck 43, 0241>>
James stepped out of the turbolift and made his way through the corridors to Section A, slowing his pace a bit as he grew more tired from the combination of the walking and the long tedious journey. He checked each office as he passed and finally noticed the quartermaster's office. He smiled and entered.
Sitting behind a central desk was a graying wirehaired Chief Petty Officer with a steely gaze who was intent on whatever work he was doing. So intent, that he didn't notice James enter.
"Ahem." Said James, clearing his throat to make his presence known. This just caused the beady grey eyes of the older CPO to look up slowly at him, fix him with the kind of predatory gaze a snake would give a mouse, and lower his gaze back down to his work slowly as if he wasn't that eager to quit working on his current assignment for this new arrival.
"I need temporary quarters until my ship arrives." Said James, digging a PADD with his transfer orders out of his knapsack and handing it over. The man looked up, slightly more irritated now and sneered at the proferred PADD before sighing heavily and loudly to let James know just how much this was interrupting his important work.
"Habitat level 13. Section D. Room 21." Said the Quartermaster, handing him a small PADD with the information on it.
"Much obliged." James said with a cold tone. Benson was never one for diplomacy and tact, but he did believe that one should be courteous. He took his things, including the PADD with his transfer orders and the new PADD with his room assignment information and left the office to make his way to his new quarters.
<<Starbase 259, Section D, 0244>>
"Nineteen... Twenty... Twenty One... There we are." James said, noticing the room designation and he looked around, noticing his trunk of personal effects laying beside the door. Obviously the shuttle crew had gotten in touch with the quarter master and brought his things up before he got there.
The Texan fished the PADD with his room assignment information on it out of his backpack and looked at it, typing in the access code, smiling wearily as the doors opened. He leaned down and grabbed one handle of the trunk, tugging it in while he walked in. He wouldn't bother moving it in past the front door where he nudged it off to the side. He wanted to make sure it was just out of the way. He dropped his duffel bag and set his knapsack on top, with his Stetson hat atop the pile as he looked around and stretched, yawning a bit. No more traveling. He'd have to wait, but at least it wasn't waiting while being shuffled around like the Ace of Spades in a poker game.
He smirked as he saw the bedroom and moved towards it, pulling off his black leather boots and setting them at the foot of his bed. With a small leaping hop, he landed on the bed and let out a soothed and comforted 'aaaaahhhhhh'. His sleep patterns had been mostly sitting upright in shuttlecraft with the exception of the USS Trafalgar where he was given a bunk in the enlisted crew barracks. He yawned and closed his eyes, quickly falling to sleep.
OFF:
<tag to anyone else on the Starbase>
<<Shuttlecraft Antares IV, 0230, Day 4>>
James looked up from beneath his stetson hat and tipped back the brim, squinting a bit. He was tired. It had been a long flight out here from Betazed. The USS Trafalgar, Starbase 27's Danube runabout Dneiper, on to Starbase 312 to grab a transport shuttle over to 259 where he'd meet up with his new assignment, the USS Malinche.
'No, it's the Malinche B...' He reminded himself, nodding in the early wee hours of the morning as he yawned. The previous Malinche had been decimated and nearly destroyed by a group of Maquis raider ships and promptly decommissioned.
"We're now arriving at Starbase 259, everyone please remain seated until we've completed docking maneuvers." Said the pilot over the internal comm system. There was only himself, a Liseppian merchant, and two Vulcans, probably scientists, on the transport. He yawned and ignored the pilot's warning of staying seated, standing up to stretch. He didn't mind acting or getting up and moving around. It was the waiting he hated most of all.
The shuttle docked and Jim slung his knapsack over his shoulder, then picked up the large duffel bag full of his few more memorable things. The cargo hold held a case of his military antiques. If the Malinche-B was to be his new home, then he would damn well make it feel like home.
He shuffled off the shuttlecraft with everyone else and made his way through the shuttle docking bay of the Starbase towards the main area to talk to a quartermaster about temporary quarters until his ship would arrive.
"Deck Officer." He said gruffly to a nearby mustard collared junior grade Lieutenant.
"Uh yes sir?" Asked the man, nodding to him. When he noticed the superior rank on James' collar, he snapped off a quick salute.
"Where can I find the Quartermaster's office?" The Texan asked, tipping back his black stetson hat.
"Deck forty three, Section A sir." Said the deck officer.
"Thank ya kindly." He said, pulling on the brim in a slight tip of the hat to the younger man before making his way to the interior of the starbase.
<<Starbase 259, Deck 43, 0241>>
James stepped out of the turbolift and made his way through the corridors to Section A, slowing his pace a bit as he grew more tired from the combination of the walking and the long tedious journey. He checked each office as he passed and finally noticed the quartermaster's office. He smiled and entered.
Sitting behind a central desk was a graying wirehaired Chief Petty Officer with a steely gaze who was intent on whatever work he was doing. So intent, that he didn't notice James enter.
"Ahem." Said James, clearing his throat to make his presence known. This just caused the beady grey eyes of the older CPO to look up slowly at him, fix him with the kind of predatory gaze a snake would give a mouse, and lower his gaze back down to his work slowly as if he wasn't that eager to quit working on his current assignment for this new arrival.
"I need temporary quarters until my ship arrives." Said James, digging a PADD with his transfer orders out of his knapsack and handing it over. The man looked up, slightly more irritated now and sneered at the proferred PADD before sighing heavily and loudly to let James know just how much this was interrupting his important work.
"Habitat level 13. Section D. Room 21." Said the Quartermaster, handing him a small PADD with the information on it.
"Much obliged." James said with a cold tone. Benson was never one for diplomacy and tact, but he did believe that one should be courteous. He took his things, including the PADD with his transfer orders and the new PADD with his room assignment information and left the office to make his way to his new quarters.
<<Starbase 259, Section D, 0244>>
"Nineteen... Twenty... Twenty One... There we are." James said, noticing the room designation and he looked around, noticing his trunk of personal effects laying beside the door. Obviously the shuttle crew had gotten in touch with the quarter master and brought his things up before he got there.
The Texan fished the PADD with his room assignment information on it out of his backpack and looked at it, typing in the access code, smiling wearily as the doors opened. He leaned down and grabbed one handle of the trunk, tugging it in while he walked in. He wouldn't bother moving it in past the front door where he nudged it off to the side. He wanted to make sure it was just out of the way. He dropped his duffel bag and set his knapsack on top, with his Stetson hat atop the pile as he looked around and stretched, yawning a bit. No more traveling. He'd have to wait, but at least it wasn't waiting while being shuffled around like the Ace of Spades in a poker game.
He smirked as he saw the bedroom and moved towards it, pulling off his black leather boots and setting them at the foot of his bed. With a small leaping hop, he landed on the bed and let out a soothed and comforted 'aaaaahhhhhh'. His sleep patterns had been mostly sitting upright in shuttlecraft with the exception of the USS Trafalgar where he was given a bunk in the enlisted crew barracks. He yawned and closed his eyes, quickly falling to sleep.
OFF:
<tag to anyone else on the Starbase>
Lieutenant James Samuel Benson III
Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
<<Planet Surface, 2346, Day 3>>
At last the entire group found their way back to civilization, Mason emerged last from the other not believing what he was seeing. He then looked back at the Sirion crew who looked and needed medical attention.
?Thundera, Jason as tempting as this little party goes we must get these people back up to the Malinche. Come on before we get slammed with a pie if we do we will be cleaning our uniforms for over a week.? Said Mason shaking his head side to side.
It was still night and the street was well lit and full of activity, both Thundera and Jason sat the Sirion crew down on a couple of benches with a small waterfall just behind them.
=/\=Hunt to Malinche, transporter room get a lock on us and bring us up=/\=
<<Transporter Room, 2348, Day 3>>
After moments being in transport, Hunt and party found them selves of the transport platform. Each one in the group looked at the floor and walls as if they did not know where they where. Hunt gently sat one of the Sirion crew down rushing over to the storage closet near the door.
=/\=Hunt to sickbay we need a medical team down here on the double=/\=
After screaming for medical help, Mason looked down to the floor seeing the reflection of red lights from above them.
?What?s going on chief?? asked Mason.
?We have spotted a borg vessel in this sector sir. So far it has not attacked.? Replied the chief.
Mason hopped over the steps and reached for charge phasers from the weapons locker. He set each one throwing them to Jason and Thundera.
?I know we are all tired, but duty calls. Lets get to the bridge.? Ordered Mason.
[Bridge]
The group was first brought to sickbay and then cleaned off went to the bridge. Exiting the lift Mason heard the klaxons sounding and the viewer focused on an area where the sensors had picked up something.
?Thundera, report!?
<Tag Thundera, Jason>
At last the entire group found their way back to civilization, Mason emerged last from the other not believing what he was seeing. He then looked back at the Sirion crew who looked and needed medical attention.
?Thundera, Jason as tempting as this little party goes we must get these people back up to the Malinche. Come on before we get slammed with a pie if we do we will be cleaning our uniforms for over a week.? Said Mason shaking his head side to side.
It was still night and the street was well lit and full of activity, both Thundera and Jason sat the Sirion crew down on a couple of benches with a small waterfall just behind them.
=/\=Hunt to Malinche, transporter room get a lock on us and bring us up=/\=
<<Transporter Room, 2348, Day 3>>
After moments being in transport, Hunt and party found them selves of the transport platform. Each one in the group looked at the floor and walls as if they did not know where they where. Hunt gently sat one of the Sirion crew down rushing over to the storage closet near the door.
=/\=Hunt to sickbay we need a medical team down here on the double=/\=
After screaming for medical help, Mason looked down to the floor seeing the reflection of red lights from above them.
?What?s going on chief?? asked Mason.
?We have spotted a borg vessel in this sector sir. So far it has not attacked.? Replied the chief.
Mason hopped over the steps and reached for charge phasers from the weapons locker. He set each one throwing them to Jason and Thundera.
?I know we are all tired, but duty calls. Lets get to the bridge.? Ordered Mason.
[Bridge]
The group was first brought to sickbay and then cleaned off went to the bridge. Exiting the lift Mason heard the klaxons sounding and the viewer focused on an area where the sensors had picked up something.
?Thundera, report!?
<Tag Thundera, Jason>
Commander Mason Hunt
First Officer
USS Malinche NCC 38897-B
-
Abubakar
- Senior Staff
- Posts: 60
- Joined: Mon Dec 19, 2005 11:29 pm
- Location: A hole, usually, sometimes referred to as Blackpool (UK)
OFF: Sorry for the AWOLism, tesco Internet is fully S.H.EYE.T. As is their customer unservice, as are their technical unco-ordinators.
ON: U.S.S Malinche. Brig. 2350. Day 3.
Jaran sat silently seething, although his escape was well, well underway ? he still rattled with anger at the Captain.
Looking up, he saw Stone tap his comm badge, closing a channel to someone, probably C?eltor, she had left the Brig about half an hour earlier with something to do. Stone walked through the crowd of 11 security crewmen and officers to come to the forcefield. ?It?s time? he said simply.
Jaran stood and nodded, the plan was fairly simple; they would walk to the shuttlebay taking advantage of whatever it was C?eltor was going to do ? most likely something with the internal sensors ? walk past the security curtain at the shuttlebay that Stone had arranged, intentionally picking staff that were in on the plan and who too had no plans to sit waiting whilst the Borg stalked them out waiting for re-enforcements ? it was entirely likely that a cube or some other more tactically orientated ship could drop out of transwarp right on top of them at any moment. One inside, the security staff in the shuttlebay would stun the on-duty personnel and the group would board shuttles and leave.
Had Captain Kersare been on-board, Jaran would have little chance of such a neat operation, there would have to have been casualties in his calculations to get the group off the ship, but with Sovereign in the command chair Jaran had little doubt that organized resistance would be minimal, chaos would surge through the ship, and in the middle of it all ? an insignificant Science Officer with zero handle on things. Without a more tactical mind, the Science Officer would obviously use the tractor beams initially to grab the shuttles ? something Jaran had covered already, since the shuttlebay was still operating independent from the Malinche and the tractor control for that emitter was routed physically through the ODN line that was no longer connected to the ships main network, the emitter would need to be activated directly from shuttlebay control which was incidentally on their route and which would not be left untaken.
Just as the forcefield was about to be lowered, a nurse walked into the Brig. She jumped back slightly, clearly surprised at the high level of security there to guard one prisoner. Jaran cast a questioning look towards Stone who shook his head quickly in response. ?What do you want?? he asked the nurse.
She looked around the room, took in a breath and continued, stepping further inside and towards Jarans cell. ?I?ve been ordered to administer a? sedative?? she said, clearly not used to lying.
She took a few steps towards the forcefield and Jaran caught Stone shooting a look at him before he turned and nodded to have the forcefield lowered.
Jaran back up, placing one foot on the edge of the bench on the back wall, she stepped up to the forcefield and Jaran cautiously looked to the brig command panel, the officers hand came slowly down to the controls.
Jaran looked up at the nurse, took in the length of her arms, he locked eyes with her as she surveyed him cautiously.
Jaran caught Stones nod and launched, in perfect timing he crossed the cell threshold as the forcefield went off, slamming into the nurse? abdomen and crashing to the floor. He rolled off of her to the right and slammed his left wrist into her chest, coming into a kneel he lunged again and delivered a blow to the side of her head, knocking her cold.
Jaran stood, he looked down and felt what he would call ?nervous? ? sick even. He noticed at that point that his uniform was still covered in sand and vomit from the planet when he had been down to the wreckage of the Sirion.
His face wrinkled in disgust. ?Let?s go? he said, and took a step towards the door.
A crippling pain shot up his left leg from his calf and it collapsed, he landed on his knee which caused him to cry out in further pain. He instinctively grabbed for the source of the pain and looked for the cause; the bloody nurse was looking up ? a hypospray gripped tightly by white knuckles. Once more she flopped to the ground, and Jaran began to pick himself up, his stability didn?t last ? his body twitched with a burning pain and he fell towards the console.
He could feel every vein and artery in his body as the injected liquid surged through him. His temples throbbed and his right cheek twitched, a wave of nausea swept over him and he threw over the console, Stone whipped out a tricorder and ran it over Jaran as his stomach wrenched again.
?Bloodyhell?? Stone whispered.
?Bitch!? Jaran yelled, in reference to Kersare ? whatever he had been given, the order had come from the Captain.
?You?ve been injected with some kind of radiation?? his voice trailed off as he passed the tricorder to someone else, a woman.
?Jesus?? she muttered. ?It?s not harmful, but it is enough to leave a signature on certain types of metal you come into contact with.?
?Tracking?? Jaran hurled again, ?device?.?
Stone looked grim and nodded. ?It would appear so? In that case the bridge may already be scanning for it, and we have to move right now!?
Jaran felt two sets of hands grab onto his underarms and help him move ? as soon as he did his head erupted in agony and he felt light-headed, dizzy and had trouble focusing his eyes.
The group moved out into the corridor, Jaran was vaguely aware of a phaser beam sound. One of the guys helping him along spoke; ?Kersare wouldn?t do this, she can be a hardass but not this??
The one on the other side replied; ?Yeah, maybe she ordered to track the Lieutenant, but she wouldn?t order this exactly, would she??
Jaran answered by depositing more of his stomach on the floor as they hurried along the corridor.
The reached a turbolift and started to climb inside. As they did so, the ship rumbled and all the lights flickered. Jaran looked up at Stone.
?Some kind of overload device, the main computer and critical functions are undamaged but all primary controls; weapons, engines, are inoperable. She implanted a virus ? Tactical and helm override controls are shifting randomly around every console on the ship, the virus only has a few minute lifespan before the main computer nukes it.?
Jaran closed his eyes; he had only wanted to get off the ship not disable it ? even if only temporarily, if the Borg were watching and saw something then they could attack.
The doors opened onto a new corridor, phaser beams lanced from the crowd in the turbolift and felled the people who were going about their duties in the corridor. The group moved forward and the red alert klaxons sounded.
?It?s too early!? Stone shouted. ?They?ve regained control!? The group broke into a run down the corridor, Jarans feet awkwardly working as he was still carried along. He was starting to feel better, everything was slowly coming back into focus ? good thing as a phaser beam thudded into the back of his right-side support, the guy went tumbling to the ground taking Jaran along with him. He looked as he fell and two separate beams from the group slammed the chest of a Security Ensign who had fired.
They carried on moving and rounded a corner, in front of them was a large door reading ?Shuttlebay Upper Walk? and to the left of them was normal door reading ?Shuttlebay CC?
Jaran nodded to the guy who had carried his left-side as he stood up, four officers opened the Command Centre doors and fired inside, a beam from the room landed on one of the officers chests and he fell to the floor. The remainder of the group filtered out onto the walkway and fired down at the shuttle-bay staff.
Jaran walked behind them, he wiped his face clear of cold sweat ? his stomach still felt shaky and his head pounded, but at least he was able to function. He ran with the others along the walkway and shimmied down a support pole, some did the same, some took the ladder, some went on the small elevator platform. Within seconds there were all on the main deck.
?Alright!? Jaran yelled, the burned out shuttle that Josh was piloting filling his vision. ?We?ll take two nines and an eleven! Let?s get moving!?
The group, now larger since the staff who were guarding the shuttlebay both inside it and at the doors had joined up with them, dispersed towards three craft, Jaran headed straight for Type 9, as he approached it a hail of phaser pulses rained down on them, he saw five staff go down alone, let alone anyone who was behind him.
Jaran skidded to a halt behind the port nacelle of his shuttle and looked to where the firing was coming from. Three security officers had taken a position on the walkway, underneath them there were a few more behind some containers, all laying down heavy fire.
Jaran looked across the bay, most of the group were down, the rest were in a similar position to himself; pinned down behind shuttles they were unable to board. Jaran fired towards the group on the walkway and missed, several others done the same; one fell and in return one of Jarans group flew backwards after taking a hit.
?Tone!? Jaran shouted over the noise, looking at Stone. ?Tone!? Jaran nodded towards him when they locked eyes. Jaran fired a continuous beam at the stress-point of one of the support poles for the walkway, Stone and the remaining 8-or-so did the same, within a second or two the platform gave way and came crashing down. The officers on the walkway going with it, right onto the group behind the containers.
Bit of metal flew from the crash, two containers rolled away and Jaran stood and looked at the carnage. ?It shouldn?t have come to this? he thought. He quickly had to shake free of his conscience; ?come on let?s move!? he shouted.
He counted quickly as everyone boarded three shuttles; 7 out of about 10 was all that was left now. An engineer ran over to Jarans shuttle and boarded, Jaran was right behind him. He climbed into the pilots seat and fired up the shuttle.
He rose it a few feet off the deck and turned to face the doors, Stones shuttle shot out through the open doors first, then Jaran, the other Type 9 followed and Jaran opened up a frequency to the other 2 shuttles.
?Come about and dive for the surface, full speed? Jaran came about?
?Shit!? came a voice over the comm? channel.
Jaran saw why as his shuttle rounded on Malinche, the third shuttle was snared in the tractor beam; someone must have got into shuttlebay control.
?Stone, low yield torp pattern, shields only - we just want to confuse their sensors?go? Jaran said calmly as he dived towards the Malinche, he opened tactical control and fired two photons towards the tractor emitter. A very small explosion flared and the beam flickered off allowing the shuttle to veer away. Jaran pulled up and flew into formation beside the freed shuttle. His black consoles reflected the glare from the Malinche?s shields as Stone laid down cover fire.
Jaran and the other Type 9 sped away from Malinche?s aft before coming about, Stone had disengaged to the port and the three came into formation about 20km off the aft-port quadrant. ?All units fire, 2km from target detonation sequence? Jaran said. It was imperative the shuttles blinded Malinche?s sensors so they could get away. By detonating the torpedoes off the shields, the sensors would have a hard time processing all the data at such speed and volume.
The three opened fire and sped towards the ship; the closer they got the harder it would be for Tactical to get a lock and fire. Jaran realized something; ?break!? he yelled as a series of phaser beams discharged from Malinche ? they didn?t need a lock so long as they just fired, there were no other ships present and a good phaser sequence in the right direction would do the job.
Jaran spiraled around a beam that narrowly missed his shuttle, his companion looked a little shaken. Over the comm? channel, a static filled transmission blared out ? the words were inaudible and Jaran quickly saw why. The other Type 9 has taken a direct hit to a nacelle, it had apparently knocked out impulse control and was now streaking towards Malinche, a trail of plasma blazing behind it. Time slowed down as the shuttle collided with the Malinche?s shields, it bounced off amongst an angry flash of energy and spun towards the planet at an incredible speed.
?Tone, break! Break! Just dive!? It was too late for anything else, they just had to get into the atmosphere and skim the surface to the far side of the planet. They could get there that way faster than Malinche could.
The remaining two shuttles broke off and went for the planet, taking evasive action to dodge the phaser beams from Malinche ? even though they were low intensity ? Malinche wouldn?t destroy them just disable them - it was now obvious what a direct hit could do.
Jaran, and he presumed Stone too, frantically tried to hail to the shuttle, it was spinning uncontrollably, tumbling towards the surface and starting to super-heat in the atmosphere from its changing vector. Jaran yawed port as another phaser beam nearly hit him. It was hard to keep the stricken shuttle in sight as his own craft was also going through re-entry and the large window was virtually taken up by heated atmosphere flowing around the shuttle.
His shuttle shook with the stress of such a high-speed entry, he caught sight of the shuttle in the top-left corner of his window. It was hopeless; the shuttle suddenly flared up and became encompassed in flames ? the fireball streaked towards the surface and Jarans heart dropped.
However many had boarded that shuttle he didn?t know; but it didn?t matter, no one was supposed to die in any of this.
Malinche stopped firing, it was probable they were all struck with the same disbelief as Jaran was. And how pointless would it be to continue firing, potentially kill more people, just for what??
It was happening again, Jaran had once more led people to their deaths. Jaran had a gift; he could detach, block everything out, keep different parts of being human separated from the other parts; pain, grief, survival, killing instinct, compassion? he was a difficult person to know, so removed from life he was almost a machine. But recently, since the last mission at any rate, he found that his walls were crumbling. The barriers he had erected between all these different parts were slowly coming down and he couldn?t deal with it. Had there not been another officer in the shuttle with him, Jaran would have crashed and ended it.
There was no need for words between the two remaining shuttles, the pair pulled up through either side of the burning trail and flew at high-speed just above the surface, knowing that within seconds the burning heap would slam into the ground.
It seemed like hours but it was mere minutes before the pair were making their ascent again ? now on the far side of the planet, even if Malinche was trying to catch them they wouldn?t be able to intercept before Stone and Jarans shuttles went to warp.
?Heading 004 mark 8? Jaran stated over the comm? line. There was a non-aligned Starbase that direction where they could sort themselves out.
The pair sped into warp, the still gems in the distance now streaking past.
ON: U.S.S Malinche. Brig. 2350. Day 3.
Jaran sat silently seething, although his escape was well, well underway ? he still rattled with anger at the Captain.
Looking up, he saw Stone tap his comm badge, closing a channel to someone, probably C?eltor, she had left the Brig about half an hour earlier with something to do. Stone walked through the crowd of 11 security crewmen and officers to come to the forcefield. ?It?s time? he said simply.
Jaran stood and nodded, the plan was fairly simple; they would walk to the shuttlebay taking advantage of whatever it was C?eltor was going to do ? most likely something with the internal sensors ? walk past the security curtain at the shuttlebay that Stone had arranged, intentionally picking staff that were in on the plan and who too had no plans to sit waiting whilst the Borg stalked them out waiting for re-enforcements ? it was entirely likely that a cube or some other more tactically orientated ship could drop out of transwarp right on top of them at any moment. One inside, the security staff in the shuttlebay would stun the on-duty personnel and the group would board shuttles and leave.
Had Captain Kersare been on-board, Jaran would have little chance of such a neat operation, there would have to have been casualties in his calculations to get the group off the ship, but with Sovereign in the command chair Jaran had little doubt that organized resistance would be minimal, chaos would surge through the ship, and in the middle of it all ? an insignificant Science Officer with zero handle on things. Without a more tactical mind, the Science Officer would obviously use the tractor beams initially to grab the shuttles ? something Jaran had covered already, since the shuttlebay was still operating independent from the Malinche and the tractor control for that emitter was routed physically through the ODN line that was no longer connected to the ships main network, the emitter would need to be activated directly from shuttlebay control which was incidentally on their route and which would not be left untaken.
Just as the forcefield was about to be lowered, a nurse walked into the Brig. She jumped back slightly, clearly surprised at the high level of security there to guard one prisoner. Jaran cast a questioning look towards Stone who shook his head quickly in response. ?What do you want?? he asked the nurse.
She looked around the room, took in a breath and continued, stepping further inside and towards Jarans cell. ?I?ve been ordered to administer a? sedative?? she said, clearly not used to lying.
She took a few steps towards the forcefield and Jaran caught Stone shooting a look at him before he turned and nodded to have the forcefield lowered.
Jaran back up, placing one foot on the edge of the bench on the back wall, she stepped up to the forcefield and Jaran cautiously looked to the brig command panel, the officers hand came slowly down to the controls.
Jaran looked up at the nurse, took in the length of her arms, he locked eyes with her as she surveyed him cautiously.
Jaran caught Stones nod and launched, in perfect timing he crossed the cell threshold as the forcefield went off, slamming into the nurse? abdomen and crashing to the floor. He rolled off of her to the right and slammed his left wrist into her chest, coming into a kneel he lunged again and delivered a blow to the side of her head, knocking her cold.
Jaran stood, he looked down and felt what he would call ?nervous? ? sick even. He noticed at that point that his uniform was still covered in sand and vomit from the planet when he had been down to the wreckage of the Sirion.
His face wrinkled in disgust. ?Let?s go? he said, and took a step towards the door.
A crippling pain shot up his left leg from his calf and it collapsed, he landed on his knee which caused him to cry out in further pain. He instinctively grabbed for the source of the pain and looked for the cause; the bloody nurse was looking up ? a hypospray gripped tightly by white knuckles. Once more she flopped to the ground, and Jaran began to pick himself up, his stability didn?t last ? his body twitched with a burning pain and he fell towards the console.
He could feel every vein and artery in his body as the injected liquid surged through him. His temples throbbed and his right cheek twitched, a wave of nausea swept over him and he threw over the console, Stone whipped out a tricorder and ran it over Jaran as his stomach wrenched again.
?Bloodyhell?? Stone whispered.
?Bitch!? Jaran yelled, in reference to Kersare ? whatever he had been given, the order had come from the Captain.
?You?ve been injected with some kind of radiation?? his voice trailed off as he passed the tricorder to someone else, a woman.
?Jesus?? she muttered. ?It?s not harmful, but it is enough to leave a signature on certain types of metal you come into contact with.?
?Tracking?? Jaran hurled again, ?device?.?
Stone looked grim and nodded. ?It would appear so? In that case the bridge may already be scanning for it, and we have to move right now!?
Jaran felt two sets of hands grab onto his underarms and help him move ? as soon as he did his head erupted in agony and he felt light-headed, dizzy and had trouble focusing his eyes.
The group moved out into the corridor, Jaran was vaguely aware of a phaser beam sound. One of the guys helping him along spoke; ?Kersare wouldn?t do this, she can be a hardass but not this??
The one on the other side replied; ?Yeah, maybe she ordered to track the Lieutenant, but she wouldn?t order this exactly, would she??
Jaran answered by depositing more of his stomach on the floor as they hurried along the corridor.
The reached a turbolift and started to climb inside. As they did so, the ship rumbled and all the lights flickered. Jaran looked up at Stone.
?Some kind of overload device, the main computer and critical functions are undamaged but all primary controls; weapons, engines, are inoperable. She implanted a virus ? Tactical and helm override controls are shifting randomly around every console on the ship, the virus only has a few minute lifespan before the main computer nukes it.?
Jaran closed his eyes; he had only wanted to get off the ship not disable it ? even if only temporarily, if the Borg were watching and saw something then they could attack.
The doors opened onto a new corridor, phaser beams lanced from the crowd in the turbolift and felled the people who were going about their duties in the corridor. The group moved forward and the red alert klaxons sounded.
?It?s too early!? Stone shouted. ?They?ve regained control!? The group broke into a run down the corridor, Jarans feet awkwardly working as he was still carried along. He was starting to feel better, everything was slowly coming back into focus ? good thing as a phaser beam thudded into the back of his right-side support, the guy went tumbling to the ground taking Jaran along with him. He looked as he fell and two separate beams from the group slammed the chest of a Security Ensign who had fired.
They carried on moving and rounded a corner, in front of them was a large door reading ?Shuttlebay Upper Walk? and to the left of them was normal door reading ?Shuttlebay CC?
Jaran nodded to the guy who had carried his left-side as he stood up, four officers opened the Command Centre doors and fired inside, a beam from the room landed on one of the officers chests and he fell to the floor. The remainder of the group filtered out onto the walkway and fired down at the shuttle-bay staff.
Jaran walked behind them, he wiped his face clear of cold sweat ? his stomach still felt shaky and his head pounded, but at least he was able to function. He ran with the others along the walkway and shimmied down a support pole, some did the same, some took the ladder, some went on the small elevator platform. Within seconds there were all on the main deck.
?Alright!? Jaran yelled, the burned out shuttle that Josh was piloting filling his vision. ?We?ll take two nines and an eleven! Let?s get moving!?
The group, now larger since the staff who were guarding the shuttlebay both inside it and at the doors had joined up with them, dispersed towards three craft, Jaran headed straight for Type 9, as he approached it a hail of phaser pulses rained down on them, he saw five staff go down alone, let alone anyone who was behind him.
Jaran skidded to a halt behind the port nacelle of his shuttle and looked to where the firing was coming from. Three security officers had taken a position on the walkway, underneath them there were a few more behind some containers, all laying down heavy fire.
Jaran looked across the bay, most of the group were down, the rest were in a similar position to himself; pinned down behind shuttles they were unable to board. Jaran fired towards the group on the walkway and missed, several others done the same; one fell and in return one of Jarans group flew backwards after taking a hit.
?Tone!? Jaran shouted over the noise, looking at Stone. ?Tone!? Jaran nodded towards him when they locked eyes. Jaran fired a continuous beam at the stress-point of one of the support poles for the walkway, Stone and the remaining 8-or-so did the same, within a second or two the platform gave way and came crashing down. The officers on the walkway going with it, right onto the group behind the containers.
Bit of metal flew from the crash, two containers rolled away and Jaran stood and looked at the carnage. ?It shouldn?t have come to this? he thought. He quickly had to shake free of his conscience; ?come on let?s move!? he shouted.
He counted quickly as everyone boarded three shuttles; 7 out of about 10 was all that was left now. An engineer ran over to Jarans shuttle and boarded, Jaran was right behind him. He climbed into the pilots seat and fired up the shuttle.
He rose it a few feet off the deck and turned to face the doors, Stones shuttle shot out through the open doors first, then Jaran, the other Type 9 followed and Jaran opened up a frequency to the other 2 shuttles.
?Come about and dive for the surface, full speed? Jaran came about?
?Shit!? came a voice over the comm? channel.
Jaran saw why as his shuttle rounded on Malinche, the third shuttle was snared in the tractor beam; someone must have got into shuttlebay control.
?Stone, low yield torp pattern, shields only - we just want to confuse their sensors?go? Jaran said calmly as he dived towards the Malinche, he opened tactical control and fired two photons towards the tractor emitter. A very small explosion flared and the beam flickered off allowing the shuttle to veer away. Jaran pulled up and flew into formation beside the freed shuttle. His black consoles reflected the glare from the Malinche?s shields as Stone laid down cover fire.
Jaran and the other Type 9 sped away from Malinche?s aft before coming about, Stone had disengaged to the port and the three came into formation about 20km off the aft-port quadrant. ?All units fire, 2km from target detonation sequence? Jaran said. It was imperative the shuttles blinded Malinche?s sensors so they could get away. By detonating the torpedoes off the shields, the sensors would have a hard time processing all the data at such speed and volume.
The three opened fire and sped towards the ship; the closer they got the harder it would be for Tactical to get a lock and fire. Jaran realized something; ?break!? he yelled as a series of phaser beams discharged from Malinche ? they didn?t need a lock so long as they just fired, there were no other ships present and a good phaser sequence in the right direction would do the job.
Jaran spiraled around a beam that narrowly missed his shuttle, his companion looked a little shaken. Over the comm? channel, a static filled transmission blared out ? the words were inaudible and Jaran quickly saw why. The other Type 9 has taken a direct hit to a nacelle, it had apparently knocked out impulse control and was now streaking towards Malinche, a trail of plasma blazing behind it. Time slowed down as the shuttle collided with the Malinche?s shields, it bounced off amongst an angry flash of energy and spun towards the planet at an incredible speed.
?Tone, break! Break! Just dive!? It was too late for anything else, they just had to get into the atmosphere and skim the surface to the far side of the planet. They could get there that way faster than Malinche could.
The remaining two shuttles broke off and went for the planet, taking evasive action to dodge the phaser beams from Malinche ? even though they were low intensity ? Malinche wouldn?t destroy them just disable them - it was now obvious what a direct hit could do.
Jaran, and he presumed Stone too, frantically tried to hail to the shuttle, it was spinning uncontrollably, tumbling towards the surface and starting to super-heat in the atmosphere from its changing vector. Jaran yawed port as another phaser beam nearly hit him. It was hard to keep the stricken shuttle in sight as his own craft was also going through re-entry and the large window was virtually taken up by heated atmosphere flowing around the shuttle.
His shuttle shook with the stress of such a high-speed entry, he caught sight of the shuttle in the top-left corner of his window. It was hopeless; the shuttle suddenly flared up and became encompassed in flames ? the fireball streaked towards the surface and Jarans heart dropped.
However many had boarded that shuttle he didn?t know; but it didn?t matter, no one was supposed to die in any of this.
Malinche stopped firing, it was probable they were all struck with the same disbelief as Jaran was. And how pointless would it be to continue firing, potentially kill more people, just for what??
It was happening again, Jaran had once more led people to their deaths. Jaran had a gift; he could detach, block everything out, keep different parts of being human separated from the other parts; pain, grief, survival, killing instinct, compassion? he was a difficult person to know, so removed from life he was almost a machine. But recently, since the last mission at any rate, he found that his walls were crumbling. The barriers he had erected between all these different parts were slowly coming down and he couldn?t deal with it. Had there not been another officer in the shuttle with him, Jaran would have crashed and ended it.
There was no need for words between the two remaining shuttles, the pair pulled up through either side of the burning trail and flew at high-speed just above the surface, knowing that within seconds the burning heap would slam into the ground.
It seemed like hours but it was mere minutes before the pair were making their ascent again ? now on the far side of the planet, even if Malinche was trying to catch them they wouldn?t be able to intercept before Stone and Jarans shuttles went to warp.
?Heading 004 mark 8? Jaran stated over the comm? line. There was a non-aligned Starbase that direction where they could sort themselves out.
The pair sped into warp, the still gems in the distance now streaking past.
Lieutenant Abubakar Jaran
Deceased
The Anti-Lamb 666
Flying Monk-eh
U.S.S Malinche
"It is easier and more effective to destroy the enemy's aerial power by destroying his nests and eggs on the ground than to hunt his flying birds in the air." - General Giulio Douhet
Rude Awakenings
-={On}=-
[Habitat Level 13, Section D, SB259, 0300, Day 4]
Josephine was tired, she was able to catch a shuttlecraft to the Starbase where she would wait for the USS Malinche. With all her stuff still in storage on Earth she travelled relatively lightly. Backpack over her shoulders and a bigger sportsbag in her left hand, she sighed a bit as she went by the numbers. "19... 20... 21..." she whispered before coming to a halt. She checked the PADD in her right hand again before opening the door.
Benson woke from his slumber with the hissing of the door. His head jerked to the side.
"Wha?" He asked and rolled out of bed with a heavy thud!
Josephine jumped back "Computer, Lights on!" she shouted, dropping her bag and PADD, ready to defend herself, what was somebody doing in her room "Identify yourself"
"GAH!" He yelped as the lights blinded him and he covered his eyes with one hand while wildly lashing about with his other hand.
"Computer! Lights at half level!" He barked gruffly. When the lights dimmed he took his hand away and stood, blinking as he looked around to get his bearings.
"Who are you?!" Josephine repeated her previous request.
"Who are you!? These are my quarters!" He bellowed and growled both at the intrusion and the indignation of being arisen from a rather nice dream about Risa and an endless supply of horga'hn statues.
"Your quarters?!" Josephine was confused now "I got a PADD here saying..." she waved her hand but found out that there was no longer a PADD in it, she looked around and picked it up from the ground "...saying that Habitat level 13, Section D, Room 21 is assigned to me..." she glanced over the PADD again making absolutely sure "...heads up" she then called throwing the PADD his way.
He caught it and grumbled, looking at the PADD before tossing her one of his own.
"Think fast." He muttered. His PADD had the exact same data on it except the names.
Josephine was able to catch it after an astounding feet of not grabbing hold of it in mid air three consecutive times. She looked at the PADD "ok... that sucks..." she stated, putting the PADD on the table and picking up her bag again "...I'm sorry Lieutenant Benson" she said using the rank and name from the PADD before making a slight bow in embarrasment.
"Not your fault. It's that damned grouchy crochety old quartermaster." He grumbled and set the PADD down.
"I guess I'll pay him a visit again then..." Josie said, not really looking forward to walking the entire way back with the bags and talk to that dirty old quartermaster again. Why he was still in his position was a mystery to her "...sorry for disturbing you, I hope you have a good nights rest"
"Don't bother, we'll both go yell in the morning. Here you can have the bed... I'll... sleep in the living room on the sofa." He said, being as much a gentleman as possible at nearly 3 am.
"I... uhm..." Josie responded stopping in her tracks "...are you sure that's... you know...appropriate?" she looked a bit lost in the situation, it did sound more appealing then having to go back to the quartermaster's office and then having to go back to another part of the station "I mean I don't even know you"
"What? You sleeping in a totally separate room? You got a better idea? Because I dunno about you, but I'm beat, I'm tired as hell and if I go down to that quarter master's office at 0300 hours to straighten out a screw up that that geriatric mishap made while he was too busy doing yesterday's crossword puzzle, then there's gonna be blood." Benson grumbled.
"You just relax and get some sleep in the bed. I'll take the sofa out here and we'll straighten this out when we're both in better moods." He said.
Josephine looked down a bit "I don't want to be any more trouble to you then I already am..." she was unsure of herself and a bit more shy then was good for her.
"You've allready been trouble, so don't worry your pretty head about it ma'am, just you go into that bedroom and get some sleep. We'll straighten this whole thing out in the morning." Benson said with a nod as he walked into the bedroom to retrieve one of the pillows and opened the closet to grab a blanket.
"Wow..." Josie was taken aback a bit by that statement "...for a moment there I thought you were condasending" she remarked before walking into the bedroom and putting the bag on the ground and sitting on the bed. She sighed, the nerve of that guy, they Were the same rank, of course he didn't know that probably.
"My mood isn't the best right now, so I'm sure wearin' that teal uniform can give you a slight bit of empathy to this situation and excuse the off comment here and there. If I make those comments after I've had coffee in the morning, you can call me condescending, but do your best not to judge me at three in the morning after you barge in here and wake me up." Said James, narrowing his eyes.
"Hey!" Josephine got up from the bed, "This is not my fault you know..." she was taking his remarks very personal at that point "...and don't you talk to me about empathy when you cleary have No clue what that is"
"I'm a Tactical Officer. Empathy and mercy for other people is a weakness that can be exploited by an enemy. That's why Starfleet has counselors Lieutenant Armand." He said, reciting her name from the information on the PADD earlier.
"Counsellors like me..." Josie answered standing up and walking up to this tactical officer "...so is there anything you want to tell me? Traumas? Childhood fantasies that never came true?" sure she was shy and anti-social but she could also be a bitch.
"Little sister, I was through the war. There are things I've seen that'd curl your hair and give you nightmares. So don't you worry about what I've seen and what I've been through. You get some sleep and let me get some rest too." Benson said and turned, walking to the living room couch.
Josephine shook her head and lay down on the bed, she looked at the ceiling "I should put my pyjamas on" she sighed before getting out of bed and actually doing as she just stated.
Benson tossed the pillow onto the couch and drew the blanket over himself as he closed his eyes and tried to get back to sleep.
-={Off}=-
JP by:
Lt. Josephine Armand
Chief Counsellor
USS Malinche
and
[Habitat Level 13, Section D, SB259, 0300, Day 4]
Josephine was tired, she was able to catch a shuttlecraft to the Starbase where she would wait for the USS Malinche. With all her stuff still in storage on Earth she travelled relatively lightly. Backpack over her shoulders and a bigger sportsbag in her left hand, she sighed a bit as she went by the numbers. "19... 20... 21..." she whispered before coming to a halt. She checked the PADD in her right hand again before opening the door.
Benson woke from his slumber with the hissing of the door. His head jerked to the side.
"Wha?" He asked and rolled out of bed with a heavy thud!
Josephine jumped back "Computer, Lights on!" she shouted, dropping her bag and PADD, ready to defend herself, what was somebody doing in her room "Identify yourself"
"GAH!" He yelped as the lights blinded him and he covered his eyes with one hand while wildly lashing about with his other hand.
"Computer! Lights at half level!" He barked gruffly. When the lights dimmed he took his hand away and stood, blinking as he looked around to get his bearings.
"Who are you?!" Josephine repeated her previous request.
"Who are you!? These are my quarters!" He bellowed and growled both at the intrusion and the indignation of being arisen from a rather nice dream about Risa and an endless supply of horga'hn statues.
"Your quarters?!" Josephine was confused now "I got a PADD here saying..." she waved her hand but found out that there was no longer a PADD in it, she looked around and picked it up from the ground "...saying that Habitat level 13, Section D, Room 21 is assigned to me..." she glanced over the PADD again making absolutely sure "...heads up" she then called throwing the PADD his way.
He caught it and grumbled, looking at the PADD before tossing her one of his own.
"Think fast." He muttered. His PADD had the exact same data on it except the names.
Josephine was able to catch it after an astounding feet of not grabbing hold of it in mid air three consecutive times. She looked at the PADD "ok... that sucks..." she stated, putting the PADD on the table and picking up her bag again "...I'm sorry Lieutenant Benson" she said using the rank and name from the PADD before making a slight bow in embarrasment.
"Not your fault. It's that damned grouchy crochety old quartermaster." He grumbled and set the PADD down.
"I guess I'll pay him a visit again then..." Josie said, not really looking forward to walking the entire way back with the bags and talk to that dirty old quartermaster again. Why he was still in his position was a mystery to her "...sorry for disturbing you, I hope you have a good nights rest"
"Don't bother, we'll both go yell in the morning. Here you can have the bed... I'll... sleep in the living room on the sofa." He said, being as much a gentleman as possible at nearly 3 am.
"I... uhm..." Josie responded stopping in her tracks "...are you sure that's... you know...appropriate?" she looked a bit lost in the situation, it did sound more appealing then having to go back to the quartermaster's office and then having to go back to another part of the station "I mean I don't even know you"
"What? You sleeping in a totally separate room? You got a better idea? Because I dunno about you, but I'm beat, I'm tired as hell and if I go down to that quarter master's office at 0300 hours to straighten out a screw up that that geriatric mishap made while he was too busy doing yesterday's crossword puzzle, then there's gonna be blood." Benson grumbled.
"You just relax and get some sleep in the bed. I'll take the sofa out here and we'll straighten this out when we're both in better moods." He said.
Josephine looked down a bit "I don't want to be any more trouble to you then I already am..." she was unsure of herself and a bit more shy then was good for her.
"You've allready been trouble, so don't worry your pretty head about it ma'am, just you go into that bedroom and get some sleep. We'll straighten this whole thing out in the morning." Benson said with a nod as he walked into the bedroom to retrieve one of the pillows and opened the closet to grab a blanket.
"Wow..." Josie was taken aback a bit by that statement "...for a moment there I thought you were condasending" she remarked before walking into the bedroom and putting the bag on the ground and sitting on the bed. She sighed, the nerve of that guy, they Were the same rank, of course he didn't know that probably.
"My mood isn't the best right now, so I'm sure wearin' that teal uniform can give you a slight bit of empathy to this situation and excuse the off comment here and there. If I make those comments after I've had coffee in the morning, you can call me condescending, but do your best not to judge me at three in the morning after you barge in here and wake me up." Said James, narrowing his eyes.
"Hey!" Josephine got up from the bed, "This is not my fault you know..." she was taking his remarks very personal at that point "...and don't you talk to me about empathy when you cleary have No clue what that is"
"I'm a Tactical Officer. Empathy and mercy for other people is a weakness that can be exploited by an enemy. That's why Starfleet has counselors Lieutenant Armand." He said, reciting her name from the information on the PADD earlier.
"Counsellors like me..." Josie answered standing up and walking up to this tactical officer "...so is there anything you want to tell me? Traumas? Childhood fantasies that never came true?" sure she was shy and anti-social but she could also be a bitch.
"Little sister, I was through the war. There are things I've seen that'd curl your hair and give you nightmares. So don't you worry about what I've seen and what I've been through. You get some sleep and let me get some rest too." Benson said and turned, walking to the living room couch.
Josephine shook her head and lay down on the bed, she looked at the ceiling "I should put my pyjamas on" she sighed before getting out of bed and actually doing as she just stated.
Benson tossed the pillow onto the couch and drew the blanket over himself as he closed his eyes and tried to get back to sleep.
-={Off}=-
JP by:
Lt. Josephine Armand
Chief Counsellor
USS Malinche
and
Lieutenant James Samuel Benson III
Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B