<time sure flies>
ON: Mess hall, MD05 1220
Activity on the ship was ramping up as shore leave came to a close and everyone tried to get their departments in order in anticipation of Malinche's next assignment.
Akios was just glad that they were rid of those polaron devices. Repairing the damage caused when most of them had self-destructed was a welcome alternative to what trouble they might have caused if they'd been left in place.
One remained, inside a force field and subjected to the closest thing to electronic 'stasis' that they could devise. Once the appropriate precautions had been taken to ensure they could do so safely, they'd be disassembling it to see what they could find.
Assembling the safety measures had been assigned to other officers, so Akios had spent the remainder of the evening and that morning picking up assignment from the roster.
The night before, he'd managed to grab the assignment of shifting the last of the debris from the shuttle bay to the station's "junkyard", and in the process had salvaged the remaining parts he needed for the replicator. Getting them back to his quarters had been easier than he'd expected. A surprise inspection had been called in the shuttle bay, and other sections of the ship had been busy getting ready for possible follow-ups.
He and Drochlo were going to have to get started as soon as possible. They were out of storage space.
The morning passed by quickly. A lot of small jobs had popped up, most likely the result of the "getting ready for inspection" surge the previous evening.
Midday, Akios headed to the mess hall. As he entered and crossed to the replicators, he noticed Lt. Peters standing by a young female lieutenant, and decided to pretend he hadn't noticed. At the replicator he ordered snapper a l'orange, stewed jumja, and Pacifican fruit cocktail in lagart cream. That reminded him--he was going to have to figure out some way to work the enhancements he'd had on his personal replicator aboard Andromeda into the one he was building now. There was no way he'd be able to do that with scavenged parts though. He needed to come up with some kind of project to justify the parts he was going to need to requisition.
As he found a seat, he quickly noticed that the topics of conversation were Jaran, the man who'd been courtmartialed, and the ship's new COB. It looked like he was finally going to get caught up on a few things.
Blood and Iron
Moderators: Tournneau, Korath, Kersare
<<Ready Room, 1457, Day 5>>
Isabel sighed as she settled back into her Ready Room chair. She was exhausted, both mentally and physically; this particular shoreleave had been fairly awful. And, much to her chagrin, it was still not over.
Her slender finger lightly traced over the PADD that Marco had given her. Though her heart didn't feel ready to see what the message held, her mind knew it was time.
Remembering her promise to Jack, Isabel turned to her terminal, found the information regarding Jaran's death and sent it to him with a simple note:
Lieutenant JG Hawkins,
Here it is. Good luck.
Captain Kersare
One more thing remained to be dealt with. While Isabel was rather confident in what the result would be, she felt that a bit more information would be helpful before passing her decision on to Marco. Opening a new message screen, she began typing:
Cameron,
I'm sure you're busy with last minute exams, getting Lynn ready for her new role, and various other things, but I need your medical opinion on something...
When someone is hit in the face - not a mere a slap, an actual hit - would there be evidence of such? Discoloration perhaps, or swelling? Anything visual?
I'd rather not discuss names, but one crewmember accused another of hitting him and then claimed to hit back in self defense. I did not notice any discoloration, swelling, or anything of the sort on him. When I spoke with the other crewmember, he was icing his face, which certainly did look injured, and he claimed that he was hit but never hit the first crewmember.
Is it possible the first crewmember was actually hit, or no? If inconclusive, would a medical scan answer this?
Please let me know as soon as you can, as I'd like to resolve this issue quickly.
-Isabel
Shaking her head, Isabel sent the message to Cameron. Every part of her felt that Jack was telling the truth and that Marco was the one lying - testing her. But, she had to be sure. Hopefully Cameron would get back to her soon with an answer so she could take care of the issue.
Rubbing her temples, she stood from her chair, PADD in hand. Isabel sat next to one of the viewports, looking out over the bustling activity on the Starbase. Slowly her eyes drifted down to the PADD.
Taking a deep breath, she brought up the unencrypted message first.
It showed Jaran's earring, religious books, red arm band, and prayer stone. The images cycled through slowly, and the words 'Property of Captain Kersare' came up after the prayer stone each time.
Isabel felt something welling inside of her, but she controlled it, taking deep breaths. It wasn't difficult to figure out what it meant. It was Jaran's will.
At some point before they left, she would have to get the items. She made a quick copy of the message and included one of her own...mainly to verify her identity and request the items be made available to her as soon as possible.
She tapped her commbadge, "Crewman Liras, please report to my Ready Room."
<<5 minutes later>>
Britney walked through the Ready Room door and headed over to Isabel's desk. "Crewman Liras, reporting as ordered ma'am. I would've been here sooner, but a message was coming through for you so I waited to get it."
Isabel nodded towards the chair, indicating that the young woman should sit, "And what was the message?"
"You're to report to Admiral Melinak at 1700 for a briefing on the Malinche's next mission," Britney replied as she took the seat.
"I was wondering when I would receive our orders. Thank you," Isabel said. She slid the PADD with the copied message from Jaran across the desk to Britney, "I need you to take this to the Starbase's Security. It's Lieutenant Abubakar's will; he left some items to me and I'd like you to collect them before we depart."
Britney picked up the PADD and nodded, "I'll take care of it now, Captain. Is there anything else?"
Isabel shook her head, "No. Just bring the items to my quarters - you should have the code to get in."
"Okay," Britney gave a brief smile and turned out the door.
With Britney gone, Isabel's eyes returned to the PADD from Jaran. She had no doubt in her mind that he fully expected to either be put to death or to be killed. It was sad, in a way, and explained the look of despair on the Bajoran's face during the trial.
Now for the encrypted message... She was curious as to what it could be, and perhaps a bit hopeful that he had something to say to her. Maybe a little too hopeful. When she first attempted to input a password for the encryption a message showed up indicating that it was to be viewed in the holodeck.
"Computer, is Holodeck 2 available?" Isabel stood, holding the PADD.
"Affirmative."
<Holodeck 2, 8 minutes later>
Isabel walked into the empty holodeck, the gridlines surrounding her. Once again she looked at the PADD and brought up the password screen for the encrypted message. She sighed, "Now to figure out the password..."
Twelve minutes later, Isabel had tried Jaran's birthday, her birthday, the Malinche's registry number, the date Jaran had transferred to the Malinche, and several other combinations, all to no avail. Beginning to wonder if she'd ever figure out the password, Isabel considered it for a few more minutes before trying the date of Jaran's most recent secret mission, the date he returned to the Malinche, the date his trial started, the coordinates of his last secret mission....
She sunk to the floor, resting her wrists on her knees, PADD still in one hand. Feeling overwhelmed, she covered her eyes with her free hand. She'd failed Jaran, letting him die while on the way to his punishment, sending him to the brig, not watching the situation more closely... And now this...his final message to her, and she couldn't even get into it.
In the midst of her despair, a thought came to Isabel... The coordinates the Malinche had received while Jaran and the others escaped... The person who sent them hadn't been found. Could it be that Jaran sent them himself? Wanted to be caught, on some level? At the very least, he probably knew about the coordinates being sent...
No ideas left, Isabel entered in the coordinates.
Suddenly, a holographic version of Jaran, adorned with his earring and red arm band, appeared in front of her.
Isabel stood up quickly, her heart racing as she saw Jaran standing before her. His eyes seemed to drill into her, far into the depths of her soul. After a few moments, he said a single word...
"Faith."
Isabel sighed as she settled back into her Ready Room chair. She was exhausted, both mentally and physically; this particular shoreleave had been fairly awful. And, much to her chagrin, it was still not over.
Her slender finger lightly traced over the PADD that Marco had given her. Though her heart didn't feel ready to see what the message held, her mind knew it was time.
Remembering her promise to Jack, Isabel turned to her terminal, found the information regarding Jaran's death and sent it to him with a simple note:
Lieutenant JG Hawkins,
Here it is. Good luck.
Captain Kersare
One more thing remained to be dealt with. While Isabel was rather confident in what the result would be, she felt that a bit more information would be helpful before passing her decision on to Marco. Opening a new message screen, she began typing:
Cameron,
I'm sure you're busy with last minute exams, getting Lynn ready for her new role, and various other things, but I need your medical opinion on something...
When someone is hit in the face - not a mere a slap, an actual hit - would there be evidence of such? Discoloration perhaps, or swelling? Anything visual?
I'd rather not discuss names, but one crewmember accused another of hitting him and then claimed to hit back in self defense. I did not notice any discoloration, swelling, or anything of the sort on him. When I spoke with the other crewmember, he was icing his face, which certainly did look injured, and he claimed that he was hit but never hit the first crewmember.
Is it possible the first crewmember was actually hit, or no? If inconclusive, would a medical scan answer this?
Please let me know as soon as you can, as I'd like to resolve this issue quickly.
-Isabel
Shaking her head, Isabel sent the message to Cameron. Every part of her felt that Jack was telling the truth and that Marco was the one lying - testing her. But, she had to be sure. Hopefully Cameron would get back to her soon with an answer so she could take care of the issue.
Rubbing her temples, she stood from her chair, PADD in hand. Isabel sat next to one of the viewports, looking out over the bustling activity on the Starbase. Slowly her eyes drifted down to the PADD.
Taking a deep breath, she brought up the unencrypted message first.
It showed Jaran's earring, religious books, red arm band, and prayer stone. The images cycled through slowly, and the words 'Property of Captain Kersare' came up after the prayer stone each time.
Isabel felt something welling inside of her, but she controlled it, taking deep breaths. It wasn't difficult to figure out what it meant. It was Jaran's will.
At some point before they left, she would have to get the items. She made a quick copy of the message and included one of her own...mainly to verify her identity and request the items be made available to her as soon as possible.
She tapped her commbadge, "Crewman Liras, please report to my Ready Room."
<<5 minutes later>>
Britney walked through the Ready Room door and headed over to Isabel's desk. "Crewman Liras, reporting as ordered ma'am. I would've been here sooner, but a message was coming through for you so I waited to get it."
Isabel nodded towards the chair, indicating that the young woman should sit, "And what was the message?"
"You're to report to Admiral Melinak at 1700 for a briefing on the Malinche's next mission," Britney replied as she took the seat.
"I was wondering when I would receive our orders. Thank you," Isabel said. She slid the PADD with the copied message from Jaran across the desk to Britney, "I need you to take this to the Starbase's Security. It's Lieutenant Abubakar's will; he left some items to me and I'd like you to collect them before we depart."
Britney picked up the PADD and nodded, "I'll take care of it now, Captain. Is there anything else?"
Isabel shook her head, "No. Just bring the items to my quarters - you should have the code to get in."
"Okay," Britney gave a brief smile and turned out the door.
With Britney gone, Isabel's eyes returned to the PADD from Jaran. She had no doubt in her mind that he fully expected to either be put to death or to be killed. It was sad, in a way, and explained the look of despair on the Bajoran's face during the trial.
Now for the encrypted message... She was curious as to what it could be, and perhaps a bit hopeful that he had something to say to her. Maybe a little too hopeful. When she first attempted to input a password for the encryption a message showed up indicating that it was to be viewed in the holodeck.
"Computer, is Holodeck 2 available?" Isabel stood, holding the PADD.
"Affirmative."
<Holodeck 2, 8 minutes later>
Isabel walked into the empty holodeck, the gridlines surrounding her. Once again she looked at the PADD and brought up the password screen for the encrypted message. She sighed, "Now to figure out the password..."
Twelve minutes later, Isabel had tried Jaran's birthday, her birthday, the Malinche's registry number, the date Jaran had transferred to the Malinche, and several other combinations, all to no avail. Beginning to wonder if she'd ever figure out the password, Isabel considered it for a few more minutes before trying the date of Jaran's most recent secret mission, the date he returned to the Malinche, the date his trial started, the coordinates of his last secret mission....
She sunk to the floor, resting her wrists on her knees, PADD still in one hand. Feeling overwhelmed, she covered her eyes with her free hand. She'd failed Jaran, letting him die while on the way to his punishment, sending him to the brig, not watching the situation more closely... And now this...his final message to her, and she couldn't even get into it.
In the midst of her despair, a thought came to Isabel... The coordinates the Malinche had received while Jaran and the others escaped... The person who sent them hadn't been found. Could it be that Jaran sent them himself? Wanted to be caught, on some level? At the very least, he probably knew about the coordinates being sent...
No ideas left, Isabel entered in the coordinates.
Suddenly, a holographic version of Jaran, adorned with his earring and red arm band, appeared in front of her.
Isabel stood up quickly, her heart racing as she saw Jaran standing before her. His eyes seemed to drill into her, far into the depths of her soul. After a few moments, he said a single word...
"Faith."
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
<<Corridor, 1145, Day 5>>
The past few days had gone by quickly for Britney (PNPC). She'd been spending some time on the ship, fulfilling her duties, and other time getting to know some of her crewmates - especially Caleb (NPC) and Nora (NPC). As the days went on, she could tell that some were getting a bit restless - speculating as to what their next mission would be.
As she rounded a corner, she saw Mason. Smiling, she walked over to him, "Hello Commander. How are you today?"
Mason was still in awe of the great time he had with Sara the other night. It was like a new door was opened up for him one that now allowed him to be more friendly and open as a first officer should be towards any crew, however this was no ordinary crew. He had just finished the daily crew roster reports and jotting some notes into a padd when he ran into Britney(PNPC), "Well hello there Britney(PNPC) I'm doing a lot better thank you and how are you on this fine morning." Asked Mason putting down his padd.
"Pretty good sir, looking forward to getting underway," she replied.
He stood there listening to her as crewman walked passed them both nodding, "That's good, I was just on my way to the mess for some breakfast would you care to join me?" he asked turning in the direction of the lift.
Britney considered the offer for a few moments, not completely sure what to say since she'd already had breakfast.
For a moment he knew he had caught her off guard with the request, "I hear they are whipping up some good eggs and sausage maple I believe." Said Mason.
"Sure, I can join you Commander," she smiled. "Lead the way."
<<Mess Hall, 1152>>
The mess hall seemed fairly busy, but then it was nearly lunchtime. Britney wasn't very hungry, but she followed Mason in anyway. When it was her turn, she said "Large chocolate milkshake, please."
The computer bleeped and produced the drink. Picking it up, Britney smiled and stepped to teh side to wait for Mason to order before sitting down.
"A Milkshake huh, well let's see here computer give me a ham and eggs platter with a large orange juice please and oh, hold the pulp." Said Mason watching his meal appear before him. "Ah I see my favorite table is empty the barkeep must have known I was coming. Although there are many other seats for some reason this one is my favorite, it must be the stars I suppose. So Britney what's on your agenda for today?" he asked starting to eat his breakfast.
Taking a sip of her milkshake, Britney said, "Catching up on some of the latest reports from StarFleet, perhaps helping with any preparations for our next mission if we find out about it...I've been able to keep up with my duties fairly well. And you sir?"
"I have to bring this morning's duty schedule to the skipper, it has been too long since I have hide nor heard from her in sometime. She must be drained from all of the court hearings she had to endure. What was your take on it Britney?"
"Well...the trial seemed very long. Jaran killing those people and escaping was wrong...Direidi don't really believe in capital punishment though - the sentence he was given seemed appropriate," she replied, leaving out the part about Jaran having been killed.
"Hmmm, I agree no doubt it will be recorded as the most lengthy trial in history." He said laughing.
She smiled, "Very well could be. How's your food, sir?"
"It's very good but could use some salt and pepper." Said Mason reaching for the tray. "I agree it was rather long but I didn't hear anything about the sentence though. Don't want to ask the captain about it after all she has gone through." Said Mason finishing his food and sipping on his orange juice.
Britney nodded, "I'm sure you'll find out about it soon enough - quite a few of the crew have been talking about it." Finishing her shake, she stood, "I hate to hurry off, sir, but I have to take care of a few things."
A JP By:
Crewman Britney Liras
Captain's Yeoman
The past few days had gone by quickly for Britney (PNPC). She'd been spending some time on the ship, fulfilling her duties, and other time getting to know some of her crewmates - especially Caleb (NPC) and Nora (NPC). As the days went on, she could tell that some were getting a bit restless - speculating as to what their next mission would be.
As she rounded a corner, she saw Mason. Smiling, she walked over to him, "Hello Commander. How are you today?"
Mason was still in awe of the great time he had with Sara the other night. It was like a new door was opened up for him one that now allowed him to be more friendly and open as a first officer should be towards any crew, however this was no ordinary crew. He had just finished the daily crew roster reports and jotting some notes into a padd when he ran into Britney(PNPC), "Well hello there Britney(PNPC) I'm doing a lot better thank you and how are you on this fine morning." Asked Mason putting down his padd.
"Pretty good sir, looking forward to getting underway," she replied.
He stood there listening to her as crewman walked passed them both nodding, "That's good, I was just on my way to the mess for some breakfast would you care to join me?" he asked turning in the direction of the lift.
Britney considered the offer for a few moments, not completely sure what to say since she'd already had breakfast.
For a moment he knew he had caught her off guard with the request, "I hear they are whipping up some good eggs and sausage maple I believe." Said Mason.
"Sure, I can join you Commander," she smiled. "Lead the way."
<<Mess Hall, 1152>>
The mess hall seemed fairly busy, but then it was nearly lunchtime. Britney wasn't very hungry, but she followed Mason in anyway. When it was her turn, she said "Large chocolate milkshake, please."
The computer bleeped and produced the drink. Picking it up, Britney smiled and stepped to teh side to wait for Mason to order before sitting down.
"A Milkshake huh, well let's see here computer give me a ham and eggs platter with a large orange juice please and oh, hold the pulp." Said Mason watching his meal appear before him. "Ah I see my favorite table is empty the barkeep must have known I was coming. Although there are many other seats for some reason this one is my favorite, it must be the stars I suppose. So Britney what's on your agenda for today?" he asked starting to eat his breakfast.
Taking a sip of her milkshake, Britney said, "Catching up on some of the latest reports from StarFleet, perhaps helping with any preparations for our next mission if we find out about it...I've been able to keep up with my duties fairly well. And you sir?"
"I have to bring this morning's duty schedule to the skipper, it has been too long since I have hide nor heard from her in sometime. She must be drained from all of the court hearings she had to endure. What was your take on it Britney?"
"Well...the trial seemed very long. Jaran killing those people and escaping was wrong...Direidi don't really believe in capital punishment though - the sentence he was given seemed appropriate," she replied, leaving out the part about Jaran having been killed.
"Hmmm, I agree no doubt it will be recorded as the most lengthy trial in history." He said laughing.
She smiled, "Very well could be. How's your food, sir?"
"It's very good but could use some salt and pepper." Said Mason reaching for the tray. "I agree it was rather long but I didn't hear anything about the sentence though. Don't want to ask the captain about it after all she has gone through." Said Mason finishing his food and sipping on his orange juice.
Britney nodded, "I'm sure you'll find out about it soon enough - quite a few of the crew have been talking about it." Finishing her shake, she stood, "I hate to hurry off, sir, but I have to take care of a few things."
A JP By:
Crewman Britney Liras
Captain's Yeoman
Commander Mason Hunt
First Officer
USS Malinche NCC 38897-B
-
Peters
- Senior Staff
- Posts: 202
- Joined: Mon Mar 20, 2006 2:17 pm
- Location: Space, the final frontier...
- Contact:
ON: <Mess Hall, 1220, Day 5>
Kaitala had her head down, and hadn't noticed the approach the CEO. She paused, the voice somewhat startling her as she scooped the contents of her bowl towards her mouth. Leaving the spoon in mid-air, she raised her gaze and narrowed her eyes at the man before her. "There are other tables," her eyes fell on the two full pips at his collar, "sir."
Peters smiled. He was sure she wanted to be alone, or at least thought she did. Still, this was an important matter dealing with ship's security. "Yes, there are, but I have something I need to discuss with you."
Kaitala pursed her lips, placing her spoon back in the bowl and leaned back in her chair. She had no want to make friends; however, she would listen, hoping it was security related. Without saying a word she raised an eyebrow and waited an explanation.
Peters set his food and drink down, then pulled out the chair opposite Kaitala and sat. He slid the PADD across the table so that it sat in front of her. "I believe there may have been an act of sabotage aboard the Malinche. Ensign Akios and I were lucky enough to catch it, largely due to Akios' keen eyes and knowledge, before it could cause any long-term damage to the ship."
Sliding the PADD closer to herself, Kaitala's eyes scanned it quickly. It seemed Peters had indeed peaked her interest, at least enough to get her to disregard her lunch. "Sabotage?" she asked, almost rhetorically.
"Yes, I know, very rare to come across in this day and age," Peters took a bite of his pizza and a sip of his soda, then continued, "However, that's what it seems to be. We found devices installed in various places aboard the ship that emitted particle fields that interfere with Polaron-based technology... such as that found in our navigational systems. These devices set up a web that produced particle 'hot spots,' if you will, in the areas of key systems. The kicker is that this particle web was not detectable by our standard scans."
Sabotage was certainly something that Kaitala hadn't heard much of since her arrival on Earth. On her home planet, sabotage was slightly more common. "What exactly are the effects of the particle web?" Kaitala had to admit, her knowledge of the ship's systems was very limited.
"Well, we've only encountered slight mis-alignments in certain systems thus far. If we hadn't caught it and discovered the devices we could have been facing wholesale failure in the navigational systems and some of the tactical subsystems. There also would have been serious sensor alignment issues." Peters took another bite of his pizza.
Kaitala's eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Why would anyone want to cause that kind of damage to the Malinche? Why this ship? There must be some kind of significance, otherwise the damage wouldn't have been so subtle."
"My thoughts exactly. Unfortunately we were only able to get our hands on one of the devices. The rest of them self-destructed when we tried to disable them en masse." Peters paused to take a drink. " But it does worry me greatly both that someone managed to do this and that we have no idea who or why."
Nodding, she pushed the PADD back towards Peters, "Self-destructing mechanisms aren't exactly something a common saboteur would use. Have you learned anything from the device that you retrieved?"
"Not yet. We haven't been able to confirm it'll stay in one piece once we take it out of the mechanical version of stasis yet. As soon as we can do that we'll be examining it thoroughly." Peters paused. "You're welcome to join us for that part if you're able."
A shudder made it's way down Kaitala's spine at the thought of meeting more new people, but the situation would require her attention. "I would like to be involved. Have you spoken to the Captain about this yet?"
"No, not yet. I actually haven't spoken more than 2 or 3 words to the Captain at a stretch since we docked." Peters smiled. "We've both been busy with our own business."
Kaitala's eyebrow raised as she eyed the face of Peters. "I see. Well perhaps we should keep this on a 'need to know basis'?"
"Sounds like a plan. As far as I know right now the only people that know anything about this are myself, Ensign Akios, you, and Ensign Rayne in Intelligence." Peters ignored the raised eyebrow.
Nodding again, Kaitala's eyes scanned the people in the room. It could have been one of these people who had sabotaged the ship. She mentally scolded herself for being so paranoid. "Were any of the devices in locations that require clearance?"
"You mean more than the clearance to get aboard the ship? No. They were all in rarely accessed maintenance crawlways or behind storage panels." Peters finished off his pizza and then his drink. "I can get you a list of locations once I get back to my office."
Kaitala pursed her lips, "There must be some way to attempt to identify who this person, or persons were..." she trailed off slightly, lost in her own thoughts.
"Want to dust the device for fingerprints?" Peters asked, half-jokingly.
Kaitala let out a half laugh, then stopped herself. She reminded herself that she was not looking to make friends among the crew. "If it were only that easy."
Peters smiled again. "Well, I don't pretend to be up on the latest forensic techniques... though I do know fingerprints and DNA are still quite useful in identifying culprits... of course, fingerprints are very hard to find these days, most people being smart enough to wear gloves and whatnot..." Peters trailed off as he realized he was babbling.
Peters' comment sparked an idea in Kaitala's mind. "Fingerprints may be out, but DNA is easily found.. the problem being; we'd have to involve the Doctor." She paused for a moment, "Perhaps we should wait until we find out more before jumping to conclusions..."
"I'm guessing you'll want that list of locations, then," Peters said.
"Yes," Kaitala said, a little too quickly, "please."
"Alright," Peter said, "I'll send it to you as soon as I get back to my office. Any other information I can get for you while I'm at it?"
Kaitala shook her head, "That's all, thank you Lieutenant."
Peters nodded as he gather up his things. "Alright then... the locations list will be in your hands within the hour. Good day, Lieutenant."
"Good day." Kaitala said briefly, looking down at her chowder that seemed to appear cold now.
OFF:
A JP With
Lieutenant, JG Kaitala
Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Kaitala had her head down, and hadn't noticed the approach the CEO. She paused, the voice somewhat startling her as she scooped the contents of her bowl towards her mouth. Leaving the spoon in mid-air, she raised her gaze and narrowed her eyes at the man before her. "There are other tables," her eyes fell on the two full pips at his collar, "sir."
Peters smiled. He was sure she wanted to be alone, or at least thought she did. Still, this was an important matter dealing with ship's security. "Yes, there are, but I have something I need to discuss with you."
Kaitala pursed her lips, placing her spoon back in the bowl and leaned back in her chair. She had no want to make friends; however, she would listen, hoping it was security related. Without saying a word she raised an eyebrow and waited an explanation.
Peters set his food and drink down, then pulled out the chair opposite Kaitala and sat. He slid the PADD across the table so that it sat in front of her. "I believe there may have been an act of sabotage aboard the Malinche. Ensign Akios and I were lucky enough to catch it, largely due to Akios' keen eyes and knowledge, before it could cause any long-term damage to the ship."
Sliding the PADD closer to herself, Kaitala's eyes scanned it quickly. It seemed Peters had indeed peaked her interest, at least enough to get her to disregard her lunch. "Sabotage?" she asked, almost rhetorically.
"Yes, I know, very rare to come across in this day and age," Peters took a bite of his pizza and a sip of his soda, then continued, "However, that's what it seems to be. We found devices installed in various places aboard the ship that emitted particle fields that interfere with Polaron-based technology... such as that found in our navigational systems. These devices set up a web that produced particle 'hot spots,' if you will, in the areas of key systems. The kicker is that this particle web was not detectable by our standard scans."
Sabotage was certainly something that Kaitala hadn't heard much of since her arrival on Earth. On her home planet, sabotage was slightly more common. "What exactly are the effects of the particle web?" Kaitala had to admit, her knowledge of the ship's systems was very limited.
"Well, we've only encountered slight mis-alignments in certain systems thus far. If we hadn't caught it and discovered the devices we could have been facing wholesale failure in the navigational systems and some of the tactical subsystems. There also would have been serious sensor alignment issues." Peters took another bite of his pizza.
Kaitala's eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Why would anyone want to cause that kind of damage to the Malinche? Why this ship? There must be some kind of significance, otherwise the damage wouldn't have been so subtle."
"My thoughts exactly. Unfortunately we were only able to get our hands on one of the devices. The rest of them self-destructed when we tried to disable them en masse." Peters paused to take a drink. " But it does worry me greatly both that someone managed to do this and that we have no idea who or why."
Nodding, she pushed the PADD back towards Peters, "Self-destructing mechanisms aren't exactly something a common saboteur would use. Have you learned anything from the device that you retrieved?"
"Not yet. We haven't been able to confirm it'll stay in one piece once we take it out of the mechanical version of stasis yet. As soon as we can do that we'll be examining it thoroughly." Peters paused. "You're welcome to join us for that part if you're able."
A shudder made it's way down Kaitala's spine at the thought of meeting more new people, but the situation would require her attention. "I would like to be involved. Have you spoken to the Captain about this yet?"
"No, not yet. I actually haven't spoken more than 2 or 3 words to the Captain at a stretch since we docked." Peters smiled. "We've both been busy with our own business."
Kaitala's eyebrow raised as she eyed the face of Peters. "I see. Well perhaps we should keep this on a 'need to know basis'?"
"Sounds like a plan. As far as I know right now the only people that know anything about this are myself, Ensign Akios, you, and Ensign Rayne in Intelligence." Peters ignored the raised eyebrow.
Nodding again, Kaitala's eyes scanned the people in the room. It could have been one of these people who had sabotaged the ship. She mentally scolded herself for being so paranoid. "Were any of the devices in locations that require clearance?"
"You mean more than the clearance to get aboard the ship? No. They were all in rarely accessed maintenance crawlways or behind storage panels." Peters finished off his pizza and then his drink. "I can get you a list of locations once I get back to my office."
Kaitala pursed her lips, "There must be some way to attempt to identify who this person, or persons were..." she trailed off slightly, lost in her own thoughts.
"Want to dust the device for fingerprints?" Peters asked, half-jokingly.
Kaitala let out a half laugh, then stopped herself. She reminded herself that she was not looking to make friends among the crew. "If it were only that easy."
Peters smiled again. "Well, I don't pretend to be up on the latest forensic techniques... though I do know fingerprints and DNA are still quite useful in identifying culprits... of course, fingerprints are very hard to find these days, most people being smart enough to wear gloves and whatnot..." Peters trailed off as he realized he was babbling.
Peters' comment sparked an idea in Kaitala's mind. "Fingerprints may be out, but DNA is easily found.. the problem being; we'd have to involve the Doctor." She paused for a moment, "Perhaps we should wait until we find out more before jumping to conclusions..."
"I'm guessing you'll want that list of locations, then," Peters said.
"Yes," Kaitala said, a little too quickly, "please."
"Alright," Peter said, "I'll send it to you as soon as I get back to my office. Any other information I can get for you while I'm at it?"
Kaitala shook her head, "That's all, thank you Lieutenant."
Peters nodded as he gather up his things. "Alright then... the locations list will be in your hands within the hour. Good day, Lieutenant."
"Good day." Kaitala said briefly, looking down at her chowder that seemed to appear cold now.
OFF:
A JP With
Lieutenant, JG Kaitala
Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Tony
AKA
Lieutenant Commander Todd Peters
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
<Bridge, 1400, MD05>
Joe walked onto the Malinches bridge, it certainly was a departure from his previous assignment on the miranda class USS Hallow, an old miranda class at that, this bridge was sparkly and new, cream d?cor and modern sleek consoles.
He had been on board now for 2 days, the bulk of which had been spent exploring the advanced ship and trying to get his bearings, also a large chunk was spent pouring over technical specifications for the Malinche and its support craft, it was important to him to know what the limits were of the ships he?d be flying.
He smiled at the 3 crewman on the bridge, it was still a skeleton crew since the ship was still docked and he didn?t need to relieve anyone to take a seat at his station, the conn station was shared with the Ops department, whose seat was also vacant.
He had already looked over the diagrams for the console and new the basic layout but wanted to use the time before departure to familiar himself with the controls and get configure them more to his own liking, Joe always liked to have the RTS controls more at hand than the LCARs system had them by default, it allowed him a little bit more finesse when manoeuvring.
The thing that most intrigued him about this posting was the ability for the Prometheus class to enter MVAM, he had to wonder if he would ever get the chance to try and pilot all 3 sections at the same time. That would have to be one hell of an exciting ride, and if there?s one thing Joe loved, it was exciting rides?
Ensign Joseph Carson
Flight Control Officer
Played By
Joe walked onto the Malinches bridge, it certainly was a departure from his previous assignment on the miranda class USS Hallow, an old miranda class at that, this bridge was sparkly and new, cream d?cor and modern sleek consoles.
He had been on board now for 2 days, the bulk of which had been spent exploring the advanced ship and trying to get his bearings, also a large chunk was spent pouring over technical specifications for the Malinche and its support craft, it was important to him to know what the limits were of the ships he?d be flying.
He smiled at the 3 crewman on the bridge, it was still a skeleton crew since the ship was still docked and he didn?t need to relieve anyone to take a seat at his station, the conn station was shared with the Ops department, whose seat was also vacant.
He had already looked over the diagrams for the console and new the basic layout but wanted to use the time before departure to familiar himself with the controls and get configure them more to his own liking, Joe always liked to have the RTS controls more at hand than the LCARs system had them by default, it allowed him a little bit more finesse when manoeuvring.
The thing that most intrigued him about this posting was the ability for the Prometheus class to enter MVAM, he had to wonder if he would ever get the chance to try and pilot all 3 sections at the same time. That would have to be one hell of an exciting ride, and if there?s one thing Joe loved, it was exciting rides?
Ensign Joseph Carson
Flight Control Officer
Played By
Lieutenant Jonathan "Jack" Hawkins
Acting Chief Security/Tactical 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)
ON: 1710. U.S.S Malinche. Day 5. Enlisted Mess.
It had been about 3 hours since Marco had sent his message out, and thankfully, all of the invited men and women had shown up.
All of the Departmental Petty Officers; the handful of Marcos ?right hand men? that were responsible for the rankers in each of their respective departments ? usually on a warship, seeing as they were usually small, the CoB just dealt directly with the section commanders, and that could be anything from 3 or 4 in a department to over 20 in security and tactical for example ? however with the Prometheus Class Malinche being larger than the average warship, Marco was afforded the luxury of Departmental Petty Officers ? it was going to be a welcome change to be dealing with only a handful of close colleagues than having to run his arse ragged dealing with over 35 section commanders like he did on Endeavour.
Marco nodded as the last of his team entered the mess, as far as he knew they already knew eachother and had done as good a job as possible in keeping the rankers together without a CoB as they could ? coupled with their main jobs too.
?Ok? Marco begun, ?I think you all know eachother, no transfers I?m aware of, but I know none of you so let?s go kindergarten, ya?? Marco returned the mildly amused grins of a couple of the team. ?Marco Tupalov? he added, starting the rounds and nodding to his left, starting the clockwise introductions around the 3 small tables he had pushed together earlier.
?Daniella Tanner, Security.? An extremely attractive young lady to his immediate left said.
?Barry Ledington? a large man next to her said, in a deep old-England Northern accent. ?Tactical.? He finished.
?Aknar Volir? the only other female at the table, an Andorian, said. ?Sciences?
?Rial Juro, Flight Control?
?Danny Scott, Engineering?
?Andy Powell, Medical?
?I am Srin, from the Operations Department? the dry Vulcan male at the table finished.
Marco noticed there was nobody from Intelligence, whether that was on Hawkins? orders or there just wasn?t one, Marco wasn?t too sure ? though in all reality he imagined it was probably the latter and not Hawkins trying to be an utter twit. Intel? pretty much ran themselves as insular, kept themselves to themselves, and didn?t engage with the rest of the CoC ? well that was something Marco was now hell bent on changing, he wondered how best to?. An idea sprang into his head.
?Excellent, firstly? Marco began, starting off the meeting. ?Petty Officer? he looked at Srin. ?Daily, I want a list of the work crew that attends the Senior Officers quarters and offices, ya??
An arched eyebrow was his response. ?Yes sir? Srin added.
?And don?t call me sir, I know protocol and all that, but I work for my bunk.? A couple of light chuckles greeted his pretty pathetic attempt at humour.
All of the aggressive, shouting stuff was always reserved for lower rankers, they had to be taught discipline and be used to snap-obeying commands, most SNCO?s weren?t really that bad in private, and most SNCO meetings were very civilised ? centuries of Starfleet experience sat around the tables of SNCO meetings, vastly outweighing whatever was collected round an officers table on a typical Starship, T?Kumbra be damned.
?Alright, I?m submitting a proposal to the Keptin hopefully tonight, I want to rearrange the quarters so they make more sense ? damage control and medical crews to be located in the outer quarters clusters, aux pilots and engineers in the aft of the main areas, you get the idea? He moved on to the next page of the PADD
?What about us?? One of the men asked.
?Rial?? Marco asked, trying to remember the red-shirts name.
?Chief? he confirmed. ?I mean, are we moving? At the moment we?ve managed to pretty much stick on the same corridor, makes sense that way I think?
Marco shook his head. ?No I don?t think it does. You should be with your crews, and besides you also then will be closer to your duty station.? Rial nodded in thought before tilting his head to indicate he agreed.
?Thirdly, the inspection.? Marco pressed on. ?Overall it went alright, congratulations. Room for improvement though, and I?m still going to beast the shit out of the section commanders, and you know where I?m coming next.? He kept his head down but raised his eyes to scan the faces at the table.
?Ok where are we with morale? We have happy ship or miserable sods?? Marco asked, looking mainly to the guy from medical.
The team looked at eachother before generally agreeing that by and large there was a good atmosphere amongst the crew. Marco nodded and pursed his lips as he thought why that was, was it the result of either a good CO or the lack of a CoB and the discipline that goes with having one?
?Chief? Daniella said, calling Marco?s attention. ?Are you going to be running drills soon? Red alert, intruder???
?External attack?? Barry asked also, before Marco could answer Daniella.
Marco smiled and shrugged, he leaned back in his chair and opened his hands. ?It is for the Keptin to run the drills, and up to me to make sure we perform in them.? He shrugged again. ?I doubt I?ll have more than an hour or so, if any, warning if she runs a drill ? feel free to run your own trainers if you like, just run any roster conflicts past me first and I?ll take it to the officer in charge.? He quirked his eyebrows when he mentioned the officer, and saw again that several of his colleagues returned his gesture with slightly amused smirks.
?Not a fan of the pipful wonders then boss?? asked Barry, chuckling in that accent of his ? it seemed fitting, his accent just went with his burly, large appearance.
Marco smiled and inhaled through his teeth, ?Some of them I like personally, ya.? He shrugged and sat forward, leaning on the table with his elbows. ?But in general, most of them are clueless fuckwits.?
All but the Vulcan laughed, it creeped Marco out somewhat how the Vulcans could just sit there so sedate in any situation, be comedy bar, opera, a strip club? they were just plain weird.
?I mean come on? Marco continued. ?Bunch of spiffs.?
?Aye, some of them are good lads, down to Earth? Barry offered, ?but you?re right, most of them a bleedin? stupid, sponsored by friends of Admiral Daddy most of them. I mean look at CO?s now, ya know.?
?Too right? Daniella said, ?Rushed through because of the war, most of the COs on the smaller ships now are inexperienced and incompetent, I was on the Richard Dannatt before Malinche, Miranda, CO was about 30 odd ? total loon. Head still full of ?cool? ideas, like charging down renegade Galors.? She shook her head and rolled her eyes. ?Seemingly not realising that a ship is just metal, which can be broken, and not an invincible tool of god.?
Rial coughed, ?Erm.. you?re not dead though, right??
?Well, no but??
?But nothing, he pulled the ship through combat yes? He was a good commander, hell of a combat commander by the sounds of it.?
?He was a prat, he got lucky.?
?He ??
Marco held up a hand. ?Ok guys, cool it.? Clearly Rial was a tad more pro-officer than some of his colleagues. ?Ok is there anything else you need to know or want to bring up??
?There is one thing actually boss? Danny said. ?There?s a guy on the engineering crew, just out of the mill.? The mill of course being the term given to the enlisted training centres as a collective group. ?He?s a good one, I reckon he?s being wasted.?
Marco frowned questioningly. ?In what way??
?Well, I mean he?s really sensible, responsible, he?s just being wasted in this job ? I want to put him forward for sponsorship.?
Marco locked eyes with him. ?You?re sure? I mean he?s really so-called officer material??
Danny nodded. ?Yeah I think he is, I mean obviously I?d run it past the Lieutenant first, and get the CO to sign off on it, but before that I want to get your sign off.?
Marco bit his bottom lip as he, briefly, mulled it over. ?No.? He shook his head. ?No I don?t want to upset the balance, we?ve had an inspection, we?re starting to pull them together?I don?t want to do anything to disrupt that.? He let his words hang in the air for a moment, ?But I will consider it again after this mission.?
Danny looked at Marco for a while, like he trying to decide if he should say something or not. ?Right. Ok well speaking of which, what?s the word with the next mission.??
Marco shook his head. ?I don?t know.? He replied. ?Keptin hasn?t briefed me yet, I don?t believe she even knows yet, sod knows when we?ll actually get moving.?
OFF:
(P.S) Sorry if anyone doesn't want those PO's in their department, wasn't able to get round everyone prior to writing it)
It had been about 3 hours since Marco had sent his message out, and thankfully, all of the invited men and women had shown up.
All of the Departmental Petty Officers; the handful of Marcos ?right hand men? that were responsible for the rankers in each of their respective departments ? usually on a warship, seeing as they were usually small, the CoB just dealt directly with the section commanders, and that could be anything from 3 or 4 in a department to over 20 in security and tactical for example ? however with the Prometheus Class Malinche being larger than the average warship, Marco was afforded the luxury of Departmental Petty Officers ? it was going to be a welcome change to be dealing with only a handful of close colleagues than having to run his arse ragged dealing with over 35 section commanders like he did on Endeavour.
Marco nodded as the last of his team entered the mess, as far as he knew they already knew eachother and had done as good a job as possible in keeping the rankers together without a CoB as they could ? coupled with their main jobs too.
?Ok? Marco begun, ?I think you all know eachother, no transfers I?m aware of, but I know none of you so let?s go kindergarten, ya?? Marco returned the mildly amused grins of a couple of the team. ?Marco Tupalov? he added, starting the rounds and nodding to his left, starting the clockwise introductions around the 3 small tables he had pushed together earlier.
?Daniella Tanner, Security.? An extremely attractive young lady to his immediate left said.
?Barry Ledington? a large man next to her said, in a deep old-England Northern accent. ?Tactical.? He finished.
?Aknar Volir? the only other female at the table, an Andorian, said. ?Sciences?
?Rial Juro, Flight Control?
?Danny Scott, Engineering?
?Andy Powell, Medical?
?I am Srin, from the Operations Department? the dry Vulcan male at the table finished.
Marco noticed there was nobody from Intelligence, whether that was on Hawkins? orders or there just wasn?t one, Marco wasn?t too sure ? though in all reality he imagined it was probably the latter and not Hawkins trying to be an utter twit. Intel? pretty much ran themselves as insular, kept themselves to themselves, and didn?t engage with the rest of the CoC ? well that was something Marco was now hell bent on changing, he wondered how best to?. An idea sprang into his head.
?Excellent, firstly? Marco began, starting off the meeting. ?Petty Officer? he looked at Srin. ?Daily, I want a list of the work crew that attends the Senior Officers quarters and offices, ya??
An arched eyebrow was his response. ?Yes sir? Srin added.
?And don?t call me sir, I know protocol and all that, but I work for my bunk.? A couple of light chuckles greeted his pretty pathetic attempt at humour.
All of the aggressive, shouting stuff was always reserved for lower rankers, they had to be taught discipline and be used to snap-obeying commands, most SNCO?s weren?t really that bad in private, and most SNCO meetings were very civilised ? centuries of Starfleet experience sat around the tables of SNCO meetings, vastly outweighing whatever was collected round an officers table on a typical Starship, T?Kumbra be damned.
?Alright, I?m submitting a proposal to the Keptin hopefully tonight, I want to rearrange the quarters so they make more sense ? damage control and medical crews to be located in the outer quarters clusters, aux pilots and engineers in the aft of the main areas, you get the idea? He moved on to the next page of the PADD
?What about us?? One of the men asked.
?Rial?? Marco asked, trying to remember the red-shirts name.
?Chief? he confirmed. ?I mean, are we moving? At the moment we?ve managed to pretty much stick on the same corridor, makes sense that way I think?
Marco shook his head. ?No I don?t think it does. You should be with your crews, and besides you also then will be closer to your duty station.? Rial nodded in thought before tilting his head to indicate he agreed.
?Thirdly, the inspection.? Marco pressed on. ?Overall it went alright, congratulations. Room for improvement though, and I?m still going to beast the shit out of the section commanders, and you know where I?m coming next.? He kept his head down but raised his eyes to scan the faces at the table.
?Ok where are we with morale? We have happy ship or miserable sods?? Marco asked, looking mainly to the guy from medical.
The team looked at eachother before generally agreeing that by and large there was a good atmosphere amongst the crew. Marco nodded and pursed his lips as he thought why that was, was it the result of either a good CO or the lack of a CoB and the discipline that goes with having one?
?Chief? Daniella said, calling Marco?s attention. ?Are you going to be running drills soon? Red alert, intruder???
?External attack?? Barry asked also, before Marco could answer Daniella.
Marco smiled and shrugged, he leaned back in his chair and opened his hands. ?It is for the Keptin to run the drills, and up to me to make sure we perform in them.? He shrugged again. ?I doubt I?ll have more than an hour or so, if any, warning if she runs a drill ? feel free to run your own trainers if you like, just run any roster conflicts past me first and I?ll take it to the officer in charge.? He quirked his eyebrows when he mentioned the officer, and saw again that several of his colleagues returned his gesture with slightly amused smirks.
?Not a fan of the pipful wonders then boss?? asked Barry, chuckling in that accent of his ? it seemed fitting, his accent just went with his burly, large appearance.
Marco smiled and inhaled through his teeth, ?Some of them I like personally, ya.? He shrugged and sat forward, leaning on the table with his elbows. ?But in general, most of them are clueless fuckwits.?
All but the Vulcan laughed, it creeped Marco out somewhat how the Vulcans could just sit there so sedate in any situation, be comedy bar, opera, a strip club? they were just plain weird.
?I mean come on? Marco continued. ?Bunch of spiffs.?
?Aye, some of them are good lads, down to Earth? Barry offered, ?but you?re right, most of them a bleedin? stupid, sponsored by friends of Admiral Daddy most of them. I mean look at CO?s now, ya know.?
?Too right? Daniella said, ?Rushed through because of the war, most of the COs on the smaller ships now are inexperienced and incompetent, I was on the Richard Dannatt before Malinche, Miranda, CO was about 30 odd ? total loon. Head still full of ?cool? ideas, like charging down renegade Galors.? She shook her head and rolled her eyes. ?Seemingly not realising that a ship is just metal, which can be broken, and not an invincible tool of god.?
Rial coughed, ?Erm.. you?re not dead though, right??
?Well, no but??
?But nothing, he pulled the ship through combat yes? He was a good commander, hell of a combat commander by the sounds of it.?
?He was a prat, he got lucky.?
?He ??
Marco held up a hand. ?Ok guys, cool it.? Clearly Rial was a tad more pro-officer than some of his colleagues. ?Ok is there anything else you need to know or want to bring up??
?There is one thing actually boss? Danny said. ?There?s a guy on the engineering crew, just out of the mill.? The mill of course being the term given to the enlisted training centres as a collective group. ?He?s a good one, I reckon he?s being wasted.?
Marco frowned questioningly. ?In what way??
?Well, I mean he?s really sensible, responsible, he?s just being wasted in this job ? I want to put him forward for sponsorship.?
Marco locked eyes with him. ?You?re sure? I mean he?s really so-called officer material??
Danny nodded. ?Yeah I think he is, I mean obviously I?d run it past the Lieutenant first, and get the CO to sign off on it, but before that I want to get your sign off.?
Marco bit his bottom lip as he, briefly, mulled it over. ?No.? He shook his head. ?No I don?t want to upset the balance, we?ve had an inspection, we?re starting to pull them together?I don?t want to do anything to disrupt that.? He let his words hang in the air for a moment, ?But I will consider it again after this mission.?
Danny looked at Marco for a while, like he trying to decide if he should say something or not. ?Right. Ok well speaking of which, what?s the word with the next mission.??
Marco shook his head. ?I don?t know.? He replied. ?Keptin hasn?t briefed me yet, I don?t believe she even knows yet, sod knows when we?ll actually get moving.?
OFF:
(P.S) Sorry if anyone doesn't want those PO's in their department, wasn't able to get round everyone prior to writing it)
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
slap me or something....)(OOC: Jaran! He's Alive! LOL)
<Bridge, 1500 hours, Day 5, USS Malinche>
Considering how busy she must be with PaDD work, especially after that trial, Yrel know the Captain had to be still in her Ready Room. She could image the leaning towards of the damn things stacked yay high on the top of her desk, threatening to spill over and on to her, burying her, at a moments notice. Yrel didn't know the feeling quite that well, but she an inkling of what it was like. The lab was a veriable disaester when she first got a hold of it, mostly becuase of Jaran, but perhaps becuase of overall neglect.
Yrel had a couple things to get off her chest with the captain before things moved on any further than they were already going. Cameron was one, pregnancy was two, and Jaran was three. All things that had been built up and she felt she had to resolve some of it. The first two, she had the impression Kersare wouldn't be opposed to anything there, if she didn't already know something by now. The third thing, Jaran, was iffy. She wasn't entirely convinced the Jaran news was even true, let along trying to ask for an account of anything. There was always the attempt, though.
Yrel stepped up the Ready Room door and pressed the chime. A moment later, no response. She tried it again, and got the same in return. Yrel frowned; she was wrong about the Captain's position then.
"Computer, locate Captain Kersare," she said quietly, not to disturb the rest of the bridge function.
"Captain Kersare is in Holodeck 2," it replied simply.
'Nice to know, then, that she's finally taking some time to herself before we're underway,' she thought with a smile. It could wait for some other time, all of it.
OFF
<Bridge, 1500 hours, Day 5, USS Malinche>
Considering how busy she must be with PaDD work, especially after that trial, Yrel know the Captain had to be still in her Ready Room. She could image the leaning towards of the damn things stacked yay high on the top of her desk, threatening to spill over and on to her, burying her, at a moments notice. Yrel didn't know the feeling quite that well, but she an inkling of what it was like. The lab was a veriable disaester when she first got a hold of it, mostly becuase of Jaran, but perhaps becuase of overall neglect.
Yrel had a couple things to get off her chest with the captain before things moved on any further than they were already going. Cameron was one, pregnancy was two, and Jaran was three. All things that had been built up and she felt she had to resolve some of it. The first two, she had the impression Kersare wouldn't be opposed to anything there, if she didn't already know something by now. The third thing, Jaran, was iffy. She wasn't entirely convinced the Jaran news was even true, let along trying to ask for an account of anything. There was always the attempt, though.
Yrel stepped up the Ready Room door and pressed the chime. A moment later, no response. She tried it again, and got the same in return. Yrel frowned; she was wrong about the Captain's position then.
"Computer, locate Captain Kersare," she said quietly, not to disturb the rest of the bridge function.
"Captain Kersare is in Holodeck 2," it replied simply.
'Nice to know, then, that she's finally taking some time to herself before we're underway,' she thought with a smile. It could wait for some other time, all of it.
OFF
Lieutenant Yrel Sovereign
Chief Science Officer & Second Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Sorry for the short post everyone 
<Bridge, 1500 hours, Day 5, USS Malinche>
Mason was exhausted from the massive reports piled on his desk. He looked at the new clock and leaped to his feet realizing his was going to be late for duty. Being in such a haste he stepped out into the cooridor forgetting his uniform jacket inside.
Moments later he arrived on the bridge where it was filled with activity but not more than the usual norm. He was hoping to find Kersare but she was no where to be found.
He overheard an ensign saying she had gone to holodeck two, for a moment he frowned not understanding why she would go down there. None the less he shook it off and took his seat.
"Ah Ms. Sovereign its good to see you again. How have you been?" asked Mason getting up.
<Tag Sovereign>
"Please have a seat." he said now sitting down in the center chair.
<Tag Sovereign>
Although Mason didn't really get to know Jaran at least on a personal level, he was a good man and the ship would not be the same without him.
<Bridge, 1500 hours, Day 5, USS Malinche>
Mason was exhausted from the massive reports piled on his desk. He looked at the new clock and leaped to his feet realizing his was going to be late for duty. Being in such a haste he stepped out into the cooridor forgetting his uniform jacket inside.
Moments later he arrived on the bridge where it was filled with activity but not more than the usual norm. He was hoping to find Kersare but she was no where to be found.
He overheard an ensign saying she had gone to holodeck two, for a moment he frowned not understanding why she would go down there. None the less he shook it off and took his seat.
"Ah Ms. Sovereign its good to see you again. How have you been?" asked Mason getting up.
<Tag Sovereign>
"Please have a seat." he said now sitting down in the center chair.
<Tag Sovereign>
Although Mason didn't really get to know Jaran at least on a personal level, he was a good man and the ship would not be the same without him.
Commander Mason Hunt
First Officer
USS Malinche NCC 38897-B
ON: Corridor. Malinche. 19:10. Day 5.
Marco rubbed his head as skulked up the long corridor, he coughed and a large lump of phlegm caught in his throat, he winced as he swallowed it again and leaned against the doorframe to his right, he was sweating and he felt bloody awful. Thankfuly, the doors next him read "Sickbay" - the word split as the door opened and he walked gingerly in.
Had he been looking directly for medical staff, the senior officer in the department wouldn't exactly have been first on the list. However, Dr. Fairbairn just happened to be walking a relieved looking Ensign Siral to the exit having informed her that she was, in fact, not pregnant. A few words of wisdom and a little chat about how to take care with contraception had put a smile on the young Bajoran's face and thankfully she was happy to get back to her duties. He was happy too. Unsure of how he'd handle a birth on the ship and whether or not the Malinche was suitable enough to raise a child on, knowing that he didn't have to aid in that made the whole thing relaxing. Kids absolutely terrified him to some extent, he loved dealing with them, but his whole life had never even considered having a child. Perhaps that was a good thing.
As the young woman left, an older man stepped through the door. Enlisted, grey haired...he could have easily been in his 60's. Cameron stooped down a little to get into eye contact with the man and raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you, Chief?" He asked in that casual manner of his.
Marco shook his head and was instantly cured, a wide grin spread across his face as the accent filled his ears. "Thank to god someone else with an accent." He stretched out his hand. "There's a moose aboot this hoose" Marco said, picking up on the Lieutenants seemingly 'normal' nature, and trying to mimick a Scottish accent, which in Russian just came out...well, wrong. "Tupalov." he added.
Taking the hand and offering a mild grin, Cameron sighed and shook his head. "Fairbairn, pleasure to meet you my friend." He said as they dropped the shake and then wandered into the bay a little. "I suppose you'll be our new Cob then, eh?" He spoke the abbreviation as one word.
Marco nodded. "Ya" he answered shortly. "And you must be the Chief Medical Officer" he added, remembering he'd heard that the CMO was a Lieutenant. "Glad to meet you Dawkter Leftenant Sir." Marco coughed again, harder this time, and his chest croaked. Whatever he'd picked up it was bloody irritating.
Turning round, the Scotsman took a sharp look at the older man as he hacked away. The cough sounded simulated rather than the result of something real provoking it, a dry cough that could be painful. Usually they hold on a few days after a cold. "Take a seat over there, Mister Tupalov." He said, indicating a biobed as he stepped into the office quickly to fetch a tricorder. The Sir/Leftenant stuff irked him a little. He didn't care much for his rank at all and the idea of the senior most NCO calling him by a title like that sent a little twitch of frustration down his body. Nevertheless he returned and began scanning immediately, using his left hand to key the same code response into the biobed itself.
'Shit' Marco thought to himself. He thought it was going to be an in and out jobbie, a quick hypo and on your way Marco. He hadn't anticipated what seemed like a thorough scan. Due to the sudden wave of sheer terror, or purely by conincidence, his stomach started to stab at him again. "Is this necessary Sir?" he asked, trying to not show that he was trying to keep something hidden. "I just need something for the cough." He shrugged, trying to act casual. "I'm old man now, not so uncommon amongst my breed. No need for all these scans and stuff, time was you could go in and get fixed up without a tricorder being shoved at you." He waved dismissively at the tool in Fairbairns hands.
"Aye true enough. But in those times there weren't many cures other than a suppressive hypo or a coma." The Doctor responded, frowning at the readings. "Besides I don't think it's illness that's causing the cough. Have you been experiencing stomach cramps lately? A heavy, pressurised feeling right below your rib-cage? They're synonymous with having the flue or pneumonia." He lied blatantly, trying to ease away any chance of the old man figuring out he suspected a pro-toxin. Shutting the tricorder, Cam left the man for a brief moment as he dragged a wheeled chair from a nearby diagnostics console and perched on the edge of it, facing his new patient.
'Bollocks' Marco sighed inwardly. "None at all" he said flatly, shaking his head trying the ole 'if I make eye contact I'm not lying' one on the Doctor. SMO's didn't just pull up a pue for a cold or a chest infection, Fairbairn knew - and Marco suspected his career was just about over.
"Don't be a moron, do you think an internal medical scan would miss this? What are you taking?" Cameron said blatantly. He wasn't angry, nor was he judging and he certainly wasn't about to end this man's career based on the abuse factor - men like Tupalov were valuable and that was known to the Doctor as it was. But he wanted him scared, he wanted to urge the truth through tension.
Marco locked eyes with Fairbairn and considered the possibility the Doctor was bluffing, trying to flush him out. "Nothing" he said slowly, and powerfuly. He stood up and winced as the movement caused another stabbing pain in his stomach.
The doctor wheeled back a little and leaned into the chair as if relaxing. He immediately noted the reaction to the old man's movement which wasn't sufficient enough to be defined by age. He was suffering and he was suffering by lack of a fix. He let Marco stand over him, looking down as if trying to prove something but did not for a second consider budging out of the way, not while the man was an addict of some kind clear as day. He could put it down to shoddy medical treatment from his last posting, but the possibility of the toxin was just clearer. Sighing, he dropped his hands from his head and rubbed his eyes. "Look, Chief, I'm not about to order you to sit or stay here, I'm not about to turn round and go squealing bloody murder to the Captain. I just need to know details." He said.
In a dangerous play, Marco replied; "Why will you not go to the Keptin?". That in itself basically blew his facade, right to pieces. But he wasn't about to give away details until he was sure this Fairbairn wasn't going to go and get Marco booted. He eyeballed the Doctor, carefuly. His body was tense and his heart thumped in the sides of his neck.
"Well firstly you answer me this - apart from when you require a fix, does the toxin prevent you from achieving the goals of your duty?" Now he had cracked the box, he could get inside and start clawing at the emotional mess in there. Then he'd deal with Marco's pain before offering stern advice. This one was maintainable.
Marco gritted his teeth. "No..." he growled. How could he have been so stupid? He should have just got on with it, he didn't need to see a Doctor for the cough, he'd had worse before and just carried on.
"Reason ONE not to inform the Captain. Reason two would be the fact that I sense a bit of decency from you, you're a good bloke and I don't want to spoil that. Finally, reason three...Captain Kersare has enough troubles on her mind for the time being." The list was reeled off with a sense of impatience but it was layered in truth. He stood and fetched a hypo-vial and container, replicating the programmed pain-killer and mixing it with an adrenaline stimulant to slow the heart rate and stem the blood pressure. Just in doing so - he was risking his own career. But drugs were treatable if approached the right way. Slowly he used his free hand to position the CPO's chin from his neck and injected the reliever into the primary artery then pulled the device back. "Better?" He asked instantly.
Marco exhaled and felt suddenly cold from the sweat as his temperature began dropping, and his chest felt lighter too. The stomach pains were periodic so as long as no more came, he was right. "Much" He rubbed his neck where the hypo had been out of habit. "You're risking a lot." He said, wanting to know why but stating it rather than asking.
Cameron had his back to the enlisted man now, cleaning and setting the hypospray and vial back into the container. He was glad the bay was still fairly empty for the time being. Slowly he returned and handed the Chief a glass of cold water to kill the dehydration he'd be experiencing. "I am, aye." He answered as the man drank. "But I've watched many careers end for bad habbits, some worse. And if you want my honest opinion; yours doesn't need to end on this note although I'm not going to be the man to offer you any drugs. You can obtain that yourself. If you want my advice, wait until you're retiring for sleep before you take another fix." The distance in understanding was there but Cameron still saw a potential for friendship.
Marco was dumbfounded, utterly stunned. A Doctor, just blind-eyed his drug use, and even told him when to take it... Marco could do nothing but reply with a confused stare.
"I'll be frank with you, it seems that's the best way to get the point across." Fairbairn continued, folding his arms and returning the man's stare. "You're old and you've served a great deal of time in this...service, that's all obvious by the size of your medical file which oddly shows no other evidence of abuse. You WILL kick this habbit yourself eventually. I guarantee it."
Marco turned his head slightly and again eyeballed Fairbairn, trying to suss him out. "Perhaps" he offered simply as he furrowed his brow in concentration, he was really trying to work this guy out and couldn't make head nor tails of him.
"Again, I'm guaranteeing it. But I'll leave the pondering to yourself if that's how it has to be." There was the understanding but the way the Doctor felt towards abusers certainly floated around in the way he spoke. "Go and eat, freshen yourself up and relax then hit your hypospray before the pain kicks in. I want to see you first thing tomorrow morning to see how your condition is, okay?" It wasa question, not an order but that threatening tone remained in the Scotsmans thick accent.
Marco got the message. "Yes Sir" he replied. Actually, the idea of something to eat and a quick shower was appealing. He hadn't since yesterday at least, and now he had to lug his bags across from the Starbase to the Malinche. After getting a favour from the QMS Duty Ranker to get the code for his quarters.
Narrowing his eyes, Cameron spoke one last time before heading into his office. "And Marco, please drop the Sir. Doctor if you really have to, but Cameron when you don't find it a struggle."
The ONLY Officer he had not called sir, in his entire career, had been Captain Bright. And that was odd enough. "Yes, Doctor." He said slightly nervously. "Of Course." He walked towards the door and had to, he just had to. "Sir" he added under his breath.
The Doctor let him leave then shook his head with an inane sadness. He had already treated a Crewman Phillipshill this morning, a flight operator for a slight bruise on the head. Nothing serious but the young man had been worried - the Cob was going to hit him again if that shuttle wasn't in flight condition. Even at that Cameron had kept his distance. But drugs...that was something else.
JP by:
CPO Marco Tupalov
Chief of the Boat
USS Malinche
AND
Marco rubbed his head as skulked up the long corridor, he coughed and a large lump of phlegm caught in his throat, he winced as he swallowed it again and leaned against the doorframe to his right, he was sweating and he felt bloody awful. Thankfuly, the doors next him read "Sickbay" - the word split as the door opened and he walked gingerly in.
Had he been looking directly for medical staff, the senior officer in the department wouldn't exactly have been first on the list. However, Dr. Fairbairn just happened to be walking a relieved looking Ensign Siral to the exit having informed her that she was, in fact, not pregnant. A few words of wisdom and a little chat about how to take care with contraception had put a smile on the young Bajoran's face and thankfully she was happy to get back to her duties. He was happy too. Unsure of how he'd handle a birth on the ship and whether or not the Malinche was suitable enough to raise a child on, knowing that he didn't have to aid in that made the whole thing relaxing. Kids absolutely terrified him to some extent, he loved dealing with them, but his whole life had never even considered having a child. Perhaps that was a good thing.
As the young woman left, an older man stepped through the door. Enlisted, grey haired...he could have easily been in his 60's. Cameron stooped down a little to get into eye contact with the man and raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you, Chief?" He asked in that casual manner of his.
Marco shook his head and was instantly cured, a wide grin spread across his face as the accent filled his ears. "Thank to god someone else with an accent." He stretched out his hand. "There's a moose aboot this hoose" Marco said, picking up on the Lieutenants seemingly 'normal' nature, and trying to mimick a Scottish accent, which in Russian just came out...well, wrong. "Tupalov." he added.
Taking the hand and offering a mild grin, Cameron sighed and shook his head. "Fairbairn, pleasure to meet you my friend." He said as they dropped the shake and then wandered into the bay a little. "I suppose you'll be our new Cob then, eh?" He spoke the abbreviation as one word.
Marco nodded. "Ya" he answered shortly. "And you must be the Chief Medical Officer" he added, remembering he'd heard that the CMO was a Lieutenant. "Glad to meet you Dawkter Leftenant Sir." Marco coughed again, harder this time, and his chest croaked. Whatever he'd picked up it was bloody irritating.
Turning round, the Scotsman took a sharp look at the older man as he hacked away. The cough sounded simulated rather than the result of something real provoking it, a dry cough that could be painful. Usually they hold on a few days after a cold. "Take a seat over there, Mister Tupalov." He said, indicating a biobed as he stepped into the office quickly to fetch a tricorder. The Sir/Leftenant stuff irked him a little. He didn't care much for his rank at all and the idea of the senior most NCO calling him by a title like that sent a little twitch of frustration down his body. Nevertheless he returned and began scanning immediately, using his left hand to key the same code response into the biobed itself.
'Shit' Marco thought to himself. He thought it was going to be an in and out jobbie, a quick hypo and on your way Marco. He hadn't anticipated what seemed like a thorough scan. Due to the sudden wave of sheer terror, or purely by conincidence, his stomach started to stab at him again. "Is this necessary Sir?" he asked, trying to not show that he was trying to keep something hidden. "I just need something for the cough." He shrugged, trying to act casual. "I'm old man now, not so uncommon amongst my breed. No need for all these scans and stuff, time was you could go in and get fixed up without a tricorder being shoved at you." He waved dismissively at the tool in Fairbairns hands.
"Aye true enough. But in those times there weren't many cures other than a suppressive hypo or a coma." The Doctor responded, frowning at the readings. "Besides I don't think it's illness that's causing the cough. Have you been experiencing stomach cramps lately? A heavy, pressurised feeling right below your rib-cage? They're synonymous with having the flue or pneumonia." He lied blatantly, trying to ease away any chance of the old man figuring out he suspected a pro-toxin. Shutting the tricorder, Cam left the man for a brief moment as he dragged a wheeled chair from a nearby diagnostics console and perched on the edge of it, facing his new patient.
'Bollocks' Marco sighed inwardly. "None at all" he said flatly, shaking his head trying the ole 'if I make eye contact I'm not lying' one on the Doctor. SMO's didn't just pull up a pue for a cold or a chest infection, Fairbairn knew - and Marco suspected his career was just about over.
"Don't be a moron, do you think an internal medical scan would miss this? What are you taking?" Cameron said blatantly. He wasn't angry, nor was he judging and he certainly wasn't about to end this man's career based on the abuse factor - men like Tupalov were valuable and that was known to the Doctor as it was. But he wanted him scared, he wanted to urge the truth through tension.
Marco locked eyes with Fairbairn and considered the possibility the Doctor was bluffing, trying to flush him out. "Nothing" he said slowly, and powerfuly. He stood up and winced as the movement caused another stabbing pain in his stomach.
The doctor wheeled back a little and leaned into the chair as if relaxing. He immediately noted the reaction to the old man's movement which wasn't sufficient enough to be defined by age. He was suffering and he was suffering by lack of a fix. He let Marco stand over him, looking down as if trying to prove something but did not for a second consider budging out of the way, not while the man was an addict of some kind clear as day. He could put it down to shoddy medical treatment from his last posting, but the possibility of the toxin was just clearer. Sighing, he dropped his hands from his head and rubbed his eyes. "Look, Chief, I'm not about to order you to sit or stay here, I'm not about to turn round and go squealing bloody murder to the Captain. I just need to know details." He said.
In a dangerous play, Marco replied; "Why will you not go to the Keptin?". That in itself basically blew his facade, right to pieces. But he wasn't about to give away details until he was sure this Fairbairn wasn't going to go and get Marco booted. He eyeballed the Doctor, carefuly. His body was tense and his heart thumped in the sides of his neck.
"Well firstly you answer me this - apart from when you require a fix, does the toxin prevent you from achieving the goals of your duty?" Now he had cracked the box, he could get inside and start clawing at the emotional mess in there. Then he'd deal with Marco's pain before offering stern advice. This one was maintainable.
Marco gritted his teeth. "No..." he growled. How could he have been so stupid? He should have just got on with it, he didn't need to see a Doctor for the cough, he'd had worse before and just carried on.
"Reason ONE not to inform the Captain. Reason two would be the fact that I sense a bit of decency from you, you're a good bloke and I don't want to spoil that. Finally, reason three...Captain Kersare has enough troubles on her mind for the time being." The list was reeled off with a sense of impatience but it was layered in truth. He stood and fetched a hypo-vial and container, replicating the programmed pain-killer and mixing it with an adrenaline stimulant to slow the heart rate and stem the blood pressure. Just in doing so - he was risking his own career. But drugs were treatable if approached the right way. Slowly he used his free hand to position the CPO's chin from his neck and injected the reliever into the primary artery then pulled the device back. "Better?" He asked instantly.
Marco exhaled and felt suddenly cold from the sweat as his temperature began dropping, and his chest felt lighter too. The stomach pains were periodic so as long as no more came, he was right. "Much" He rubbed his neck where the hypo had been out of habit. "You're risking a lot." He said, wanting to know why but stating it rather than asking.
Cameron had his back to the enlisted man now, cleaning and setting the hypospray and vial back into the container. He was glad the bay was still fairly empty for the time being. Slowly he returned and handed the Chief a glass of cold water to kill the dehydration he'd be experiencing. "I am, aye." He answered as the man drank. "But I've watched many careers end for bad habbits, some worse. And if you want my honest opinion; yours doesn't need to end on this note although I'm not going to be the man to offer you any drugs. You can obtain that yourself. If you want my advice, wait until you're retiring for sleep before you take another fix." The distance in understanding was there but Cameron still saw a potential for friendship.
Marco was dumbfounded, utterly stunned. A Doctor, just blind-eyed his drug use, and even told him when to take it... Marco could do nothing but reply with a confused stare.
"I'll be frank with you, it seems that's the best way to get the point across." Fairbairn continued, folding his arms and returning the man's stare. "You're old and you've served a great deal of time in this...service, that's all obvious by the size of your medical file which oddly shows no other evidence of abuse. You WILL kick this habbit yourself eventually. I guarantee it."
Marco turned his head slightly and again eyeballed Fairbairn, trying to suss him out. "Perhaps" he offered simply as he furrowed his brow in concentration, he was really trying to work this guy out and couldn't make head nor tails of him.
"Again, I'm guaranteeing it. But I'll leave the pondering to yourself if that's how it has to be." There was the understanding but the way the Doctor felt towards abusers certainly floated around in the way he spoke. "Go and eat, freshen yourself up and relax then hit your hypospray before the pain kicks in. I want to see you first thing tomorrow morning to see how your condition is, okay?" It wasa question, not an order but that threatening tone remained in the Scotsmans thick accent.
Marco got the message. "Yes Sir" he replied. Actually, the idea of something to eat and a quick shower was appealing. He hadn't since yesterday at least, and now he had to lug his bags across from the Starbase to the Malinche. After getting a favour from the QMS Duty Ranker to get the code for his quarters.
Narrowing his eyes, Cameron spoke one last time before heading into his office. "And Marco, please drop the Sir. Doctor if you really have to, but Cameron when you don't find it a struggle."
The ONLY Officer he had not called sir, in his entire career, had been Captain Bright. And that was odd enough. "Yes, Doctor." He said slightly nervously. "Of Course." He walked towards the door and had to, he just had to. "Sir" he added under his breath.
The Doctor let him leave then shook his head with an inane sadness. He had already treated a Crewman Phillipshill this morning, a flight operator for a slight bruise on the head. Nothing serious but the young man had been worried - the Cob was going to hit him again if that shuttle wasn't in flight condition. Even at that Cameron had kept his distance. But drugs...that was something else.
JP by:
CPO Marco Tupalov
Chief of the Boat
USS Malinche
AND
Doctor (Lt.) Cameron Fairbairn
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche
NCC-38897-B
"Some patients, though conscious that their condition is perilous, recover their health simply through their contentment with the goodness of the physician." - Hippocrates 460-400 B.C.
MD05 1300, Main Engineering
After lunch, Akios hurried back to Engineering and checked on the condition of the particle emitter they'd captured. The 'containment field' they'd came up with was a heavily modified emergency transporter, which held an object in its annular confinement beam in an energized state just short of dematerialization. It was basically a modern version of the 'freeze' that 23rd century transporters had used in the dematerialization process. It had been tricky getting the device into the containment unit, and all the others had self-destructed before they could be contained as well.
If they'd actually been able to transport the devices it would have been easier to hold them in the transport buffer, but the particle emissions made it impossible to transport them while active.
The 'frozen' state of the device made it ideal for scanning, though. The microimaging scanner they'd put to work was slow, but extremely thorough. It was about 80% done with its scan. Once the scan was done, they'd have enough data to create an accurate simulation of the device on the holodeck. The simulation could self-destruct all it wanted to, and they'd be able to recreate it immediately.
Akios checked the status display to see if there were any jobs he needed to do before then. He was sure that Lt. Peters would want to get to work on the device as soon as the scan was complete.
After lunch, Akios hurried back to Engineering and checked on the condition of the particle emitter they'd captured. The 'containment field' they'd came up with was a heavily modified emergency transporter, which held an object in its annular confinement beam in an energized state just short of dematerialization. It was basically a modern version of the 'freeze' that 23rd century transporters had used in the dematerialization process. It had been tricky getting the device into the containment unit, and all the others had self-destructed before they could be contained as well.
If they'd actually been able to transport the devices it would have been easier to hold them in the transport buffer, but the particle emissions made it impossible to transport them while active.
The 'frozen' state of the device made it ideal for scanning, though. The microimaging scanner they'd put to work was slow, but extremely thorough. It was about 80% done with its scan. Once the scan was done, they'd have enough data to create an accurate simulation of the device on the holodeck. The simulation could self-destruct all it wanted to, and they'd be able to recreate it immediately.
Akios checked the status display to see if there were any jobs he needed to do before then. He was sure that Lt. Peters would want to get to work on the device as soon as the scan was complete.
Ensign Turuas'ta Akios
Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
ON: Malinche. Enlisted Quarters. 0330. Day 6.
Marco set the frame against the magnetic hang-panel on the wall and it was pulled from his grip as the magnet activated. Set in the silver frame and mounted on dark blue felt was an array of regimental badges, section insignias, crests and plaques of various races ? from the Klingon Empire to the old Cardassian Union, a symbol from a Tholian warship corridor and a Breen crest of war. His prized possession however hung on the wall opposing the door, the large crest of the Order of the Founder Guard ? pulled from the burned remnants of a wall in the pile of rubble that was once Cardassian Central Command ? Marco was the pilot of Captain Brights shuttle and accompanied him when he surveyed the wreckage, fortunately Bright turned a blind eye when Marco tore it from the wall.
He folded down his bag and placed it in the replicator where he hit the recycle button and watched the bag dematerialize. He rubbed his eyes, he was weary ? hardly from the day but from the last few decades, he was restless and tired now, he had been honest with himself and given serious consideration to retirement after his being assigned off of Endeavour, the ship he had spent 10 years on. He had a family on Endeavour, from Captain Bright to the men and women under him in the crew, 10 years together pulls you as a true family, sure some come and go but most of the faces stay the same ? it?s all normal, and safe, and then one day everything changes and the world you?ve known for a decade, through the Klingon crisis, the Dominion War, the Shinzon Incursion, that whole world is suddenly gone.
He caught himself in a deep gaze, lost in playbacks of his life and only faintly heard the door chime, at the second chime he broke from his austere recollections and touched the door release button. The single door slid to the right to reveal Sarah.
Marco smiled broadly and embraced her in a tight hug, he kissed her cheeks and stepped further into the room to allow her to enter.
?How?s it going old man?? she asked, winking as she grinned at him.
?Hrm? Marco replied grimly. ?Old is right?
?Woah? exclaimed Sarah, ever the jovial one ? she was the humorous balance to the group, the spark that ignited the smiles on the men that would otherwise take themselves too seriously ? she was also the one to blatantly point out when the guys were having a ?my balls are bigger than yours? moment and in doing so diffused the situation with a shared laugh in the group. She was also the woman Marco had a special place for, and a deep affection that he distanced himself from, even through her marriage and even more so through her divorce fifteen years later. ?What?s got your thong in a twist?? she enquired, although hidden with sarcasm the concern was genuine.
?What hell am I still doing here ya know?? Marco answered. ?I thought Endeavour, she was it, she was where I would end. I?m old, why do I want to start again on new ship?? He sat down and rubbed his temples, frustrated, he looked around the small room.
Sarah moved over and placed a hand on his shoulder. ?Come on, you know you have so much of your life to offer these little shits ? that?s why you do it, that?s why we all do it, it?s why we all put down the console, or the rifle, or the tricorder and pick up the staff-? she was referring to the traditional ?staff? that COBs and RSM?s were given on appointment, although extremely few in the service actually carried theirs, they were generally treated more like officers swords and left on display in offices or quarters, Marco?s would eventually hang in the enlisted mess when he got round to putting it up ? a signal that he was always there, and not to forget it.
?- Ya but maybe I want my console back? Marco countered.
?I?m sure you do, you think I wouldn?t get back in my jumpsuit and climb inside the bowels of the Bombardier first chance if I could?? Marco shrugged. ?Point is, you are and old man, old man. Not a bad thing.? She let go of his shoulder and sat down on another stool. ?You?ve got the experience to give to them, and you do it well, I mean come on Marky, look what a pile of scrotes they were on the Endeavour when you took over, and compare that to what you left Endeavour with, a bunch of damn fine young men and women ? I saw the way those people look at you, like a god.?
?Maybe? he replied, his eyes distant. ?Still doesn?t change it though, I?m sick of this. I?m sick of starting again ya? Endeavour was home, and now what? I have to make all that over again? No way.?
?So what do you want then?? They looked eyes.
?What I want?I want to be in my greens again, pumping fire into Klingon ships, living on the pure adrenaline, day to day, living every day as the last because it probably was going to be ? where we drank when we wanted to be drunk, we ate when we wanted to be full and we fucked when we wanted to be happy.?
?You wanna be a sodding marine again?? She asked, shocked.
?Was so much simpler back then, none of this?this shit. None of the responsibility, just ??
?- Just bullshit cannon fodder every day.? Sarah interrupted. ?We all had some good times on Norfolk, and James Kirk, but they were the days for the young and we lived them that way because were just that, young. We?re not young anymore, deal with that. I know what this is, you?re just a typical man ? you don?t like change.?
Marco flinched, she?d more or less hit the nail on the head, he hated change with a passion. Stability is what he liked, and though not often found in the military he had been fortunate and had only served aboard 4 ships so far, Malinche being the 5th. ?True.? He resentfully agreed.
?Well there you go.?
Marco shrugged. ?Well alright, but at least you could hit someone back then and it wouldn?t mean anything. Now with a rank you have to be sensible and?.all bullshit smiles.?
Sarah cocked an eyebrow. ?Oh?so that?s what?s got on your tits then.? Marco shot her a annoyed look. ?So come on, who?d you thump??
Marco clicked his tongue, he was bloody irritated ? she had this damn knack of being right on the mark, every time, she knew him far too well. ?The Intelligence Leftenant for Malinche.? He answered grudgingly after a long pause.
She looked at him expectantly. ?Well??? She asked. ?I?m not giving you the satisfaction of asking you at every step for the next, and for someone who?s not into bullshit??
Marco again shot her an annoyed look. ?Went to talk to him, someone in his department shooting their mouth off in the mess.? Marco felt himself getting angry again just thinking about the smug, arrogant face. ?Arrogant prick just shrugged it off, even laughed at me.? Marco shook his head, seething. ?Asshole? he added.
?So you hit him?? Sarah asked, unnecessarily.
?Ya.? He replied. ?Hard on, caught the little shit right on cheek.?
?You know that?s gonna bruise then, right??
?Ya.? Marco offered a weak smile. ?Don?t worry, I already went to the Keptin.?
Sarah?s jaw dropped. ?What? Why?? she demanded.
?Figured, ya, that the little spiff is gonna go report me for assault anyway ok. So why not go first, tell the Keptin he hit me and I hit him back, and that I?d rather not press charges and could she sort it out?all the yada yada yada? then she thinks ?oh responsible Chief Tupalov, aren?t you a sensible and honourable man for doing this, I?ll sort out bad Leftenant Hawkins thank you much.?
Sarah shook her head. ?Gotta remember that one. She buy it??
?Not for a second, I don?t think.? He replied with a wry smile. ?No matter, no evidence etcetera, his word against mine and who gives a shit ? I doubt she would want to make a deal of it anyway, people might start to wonder why so many crew under one Keptin become violent offenders.?
Sarah looked confused. ?Hrm??
?Oh, a Leftenant, Jaran or something ? mutinied and escaped, some people died. He?s the guy who was tried on the station, he was just killed too.?
Sarah grimaced. ?Lovely.? She said sarcastically. ?Oh well, guess you?re right, time was you could hit a man and it was done and dusted by tea time. The good days eh?? She said back to him with a smile and placed her hand on the arm he had on the small table.
?Ya, ya, ya.? Marco sighed. ?I miss it though, those days, and Zoe.?
Sarah looked down, she hated it when Marco got like this and talked about Zoe. ?I know.? She offered a weak smile. ?But you?re a good man, and you?ll find someone I know you will.?
?It?s been a long time since I?ve found anyone at all?
Sarah looked at him sympathetically; ?You know, you could always have had me, you only needed to say.?
Marco closed his eyes and tried to bury the feelings that came to his eyes. ?I know? he whispered. ?I think about that.? He stood up and rubbed his eyes again, she also stood and touched his arm.
?I know we had some fun when we were younger, but we could have always made it seriously, don?t you think?? She asked, smiling at him.
?Ya? Marco managed to answer, consumed by a mix of emotions ? if only he?d made his move then she would have been spared the pain of divorce, he?d have been spared the soul crushing death of his fianc?, in turn with that came the overwhelming guilt that he was somehow cheating on his missing half by having these thoughts, and then anger at that, both for having the thoughts and for feeling guilty ? also came the desperate sadness and envy at the happiness he could have had with Sarah, to this day even and beyond, and then again guilt that he was betraying Zoe by thinking that. Times like these he often felt she was literally there with him, urging him to let go, but how can you ever, ever let go when the woman you love and who you gave your life, heart and soul to is killed suddenly. ?You?ve always been, you?ll always be?I?you ??
?I know? she finished for him. Sarah moved closer into his body and touch her lips to his, embracing him and pulling him closer as they slowly kissed, deeply passionately. He was the first to break it, nodding as though in a delayed acknowledgement of her last words.
?I gotta go old man? she said softly, hands on both of his upper arms. ?I?ll see ya round the stars flyboy?
That immediately elicited a mock anger in Marco, he hated being referred to as a flyboy, but again that was what he loved so much about her, that unwavering ability to raise the ceiling in any situation and diffuse the tension. She stepped towards the door and opened it, she set one foot into the corridor. ?And you remember where to shove that staff in them scrotes if they need it, alright??
Marco smiled at her. ?Sideways? he answered, not breaking sight of her until the closing door isolated him again in his small quarters where he was then alone again. The surging emotion got the better of him and he slammed a fist into the wall before crossing the room in one large stride and pulling out a loaded hypospray from a storage recess. He touched the device to his temple and dropped to his knees, screaming as he was suddenly back on the burning James Kirk, his younger self trapped by collapsed bulkheads, squinting into the thick black smoke that pulsed red from the lights ? trying to see any movement of people against the backdrop of fire ? of course nothing moved, everyone who had been in the science corridor was dead or dying, the crippling opening volley from the Klingon ship had seen to that. He was trapped in that instant where he knew she was dead, like he had become the personification of that emotion he felt in that very second, and he screamed the sick song that it was, out of control by the drug in the hypo he could do nothing else but live in that torture until it wore off...
OFF
Marco set the frame against the magnetic hang-panel on the wall and it was pulled from his grip as the magnet activated. Set in the silver frame and mounted on dark blue felt was an array of regimental badges, section insignias, crests and plaques of various races ? from the Klingon Empire to the old Cardassian Union, a symbol from a Tholian warship corridor and a Breen crest of war. His prized possession however hung on the wall opposing the door, the large crest of the Order of the Founder Guard ? pulled from the burned remnants of a wall in the pile of rubble that was once Cardassian Central Command ? Marco was the pilot of Captain Brights shuttle and accompanied him when he surveyed the wreckage, fortunately Bright turned a blind eye when Marco tore it from the wall.
He folded down his bag and placed it in the replicator where he hit the recycle button and watched the bag dematerialize. He rubbed his eyes, he was weary ? hardly from the day but from the last few decades, he was restless and tired now, he had been honest with himself and given serious consideration to retirement after his being assigned off of Endeavour, the ship he had spent 10 years on. He had a family on Endeavour, from Captain Bright to the men and women under him in the crew, 10 years together pulls you as a true family, sure some come and go but most of the faces stay the same ? it?s all normal, and safe, and then one day everything changes and the world you?ve known for a decade, through the Klingon crisis, the Dominion War, the Shinzon Incursion, that whole world is suddenly gone.
He caught himself in a deep gaze, lost in playbacks of his life and only faintly heard the door chime, at the second chime he broke from his austere recollections and touched the door release button. The single door slid to the right to reveal Sarah.
Marco smiled broadly and embraced her in a tight hug, he kissed her cheeks and stepped further into the room to allow her to enter.
?How?s it going old man?? she asked, winking as she grinned at him.
?Hrm? Marco replied grimly. ?Old is right?
?Woah? exclaimed Sarah, ever the jovial one ? she was the humorous balance to the group, the spark that ignited the smiles on the men that would otherwise take themselves too seriously ? she was also the one to blatantly point out when the guys were having a ?my balls are bigger than yours? moment and in doing so diffused the situation with a shared laugh in the group. She was also the woman Marco had a special place for, and a deep affection that he distanced himself from, even through her marriage and even more so through her divorce fifteen years later. ?What?s got your thong in a twist?? she enquired, although hidden with sarcasm the concern was genuine.
?What hell am I still doing here ya know?? Marco answered. ?I thought Endeavour, she was it, she was where I would end. I?m old, why do I want to start again on new ship?? He sat down and rubbed his temples, frustrated, he looked around the small room.
Sarah moved over and placed a hand on his shoulder. ?Come on, you know you have so much of your life to offer these little shits ? that?s why you do it, that?s why we all do it, it?s why we all put down the console, or the rifle, or the tricorder and pick up the staff-? she was referring to the traditional ?staff? that COBs and RSM?s were given on appointment, although extremely few in the service actually carried theirs, they were generally treated more like officers swords and left on display in offices or quarters, Marco?s would eventually hang in the enlisted mess when he got round to putting it up ? a signal that he was always there, and not to forget it.
?- Ya but maybe I want my console back? Marco countered.
?I?m sure you do, you think I wouldn?t get back in my jumpsuit and climb inside the bowels of the Bombardier first chance if I could?? Marco shrugged. ?Point is, you are and old man, old man. Not a bad thing.? She let go of his shoulder and sat down on another stool. ?You?ve got the experience to give to them, and you do it well, I mean come on Marky, look what a pile of scrotes they were on the Endeavour when you took over, and compare that to what you left Endeavour with, a bunch of damn fine young men and women ? I saw the way those people look at you, like a god.?
?Maybe? he replied, his eyes distant. ?Still doesn?t change it though, I?m sick of this. I?m sick of starting again ya? Endeavour was home, and now what? I have to make all that over again? No way.?
?So what do you want then?? They looked eyes.
?What I want?I want to be in my greens again, pumping fire into Klingon ships, living on the pure adrenaline, day to day, living every day as the last because it probably was going to be ? where we drank when we wanted to be drunk, we ate when we wanted to be full and we fucked when we wanted to be happy.?
?You wanna be a sodding marine again?? She asked, shocked.
?Was so much simpler back then, none of this?this shit. None of the responsibility, just ??
?- Just bullshit cannon fodder every day.? Sarah interrupted. ?We all had some good times on Norfolk, and James Kirk, but they were the days for the young and we lived them that way because were just that, young. We?re not young anymore, deal with that. I know what this is, you?re just a typical man ? you don?t like change.?
Marco flinched, she?d more or less hit the nail on the head, he hated change with a passion. Stability is what he liked, and though not often found in the military he had been fortunate and had only served aboard 4 ships so far, Malinche being the 5th. ?True.? He resentfully agreed.
?Well there you go.?
Marco shrugged. ?Well alright, but at least you could hit someone back then and it wouldn?t mean anything. Now with a rank you have to be sensible and?.all bullshit smiles.?
Sarah cocked an eyebrow. ?Oh?so that?s what?s got on your tits then.? Marco shot her a annoyed look. ?So come on, who?d you thump??
Marco clicked his tongue, he was bloody irritated ? she had this damn knack of being right on the mark, every time, she knew him far too well. ?The Intelligence Leftenant for Malinche.? He answered grudgingly after a long pause.
She looked at him expectantly. ?Well??? She asked. ?I?m not giving you the satisfaction of asking you at every step for the next, and for someone who?s not into bullshit??
Marco again shot her an annoyed look. ?Went to talk to him, someone in his department shooting their mouth off in the mess.? Marco felt himself getting angry again just thinking about the smug, arrogant face. ?Arrogant prick just shrugged it off, even laughed at me.? Marco shook his head, seething. ?Asshole? he added.
?So you hit him?? Sarah asked, unnecessarily.
?Ya.? He replied. ?Hard on, caught the little shit right on cheek.?
?You know that?s gonna bruise then, right??
?Ya.? Marco offered a weak smile. ?Don?t worry, I already went to the Keptin.?
Sarah?s jaw dropped. ?What? Why?? she demanded.
?Figured, ya, that the little spiff is gonna go report me for assault anyway ok. So why not go first, tell the Keptin he hit me and I hit him back, and that I?d rather not press charges and could she sort it out?all the yada yada yada? then she thinks ?oh responsible Chief Tupalov, aren?t you a sensible and honourable man for doing this, I?ll sort out bad Leftenant Hawkins thank you much.?
Sarah shook her head. ?Gotta remember that one. She buy it??
?Not for a second, I don?t think.? He replied with a wry smile. ?No matter, no evidence etcetera, his word against mine and who gives a shit ? I doubt she would want to make a deal of it anyway, people might start to wonder why so many crew under one Keptin become violent offenders.?
Sarah looked confused. ?Hrm??
?Oh, a Leftenant, Jaran or something ? mutinied and escaped, some people died. He?s the guy who was tried on the station, he was just killed too.?
Sarah grimaced. ?Lovely.? She said sarcastically. ?Oh well, guess you?re right, time was you could hit a man and it was done and dusted by tea time. The good days eh?? She said back to him with a smile and placed her hand on the arm he had on the small table.
?Ya, ya, ya.? Marco sighed. ?I miss it though, those days, and Zoe.?
Sarah looked down, she hated it when Marco got like this and talked about Zoe. ?I know.? She offered a weak smile. ?But you?re a good man, and you?ll find someone I know you will.?
?It?s been a long time since I?ve found anyone at all?
Sarah looked at him sympathetically; ?You know, you could always have had me, you only needed to say.?
Marco closed his eyes and tried to bury the feelings that came to his eyes. ?I know? he whispered. ?I think about that.? He stood up and rubbed his eyes again, she also stood and touched his arm.
?I know we had some fun when we were younger, but we could have always made it seriously, don?t you think?? She asked, smiling at him.
?Ya? Marco managed to answer, consumed by a mix of emotions ? if only he?d made his move then she would have been spared the pain of divorce, he?d have been spared the soul crushing death of his fianc?, in turn with that came the overwhelming guilt that he was somehow cheating on his missing half by having these thoughts, and then anger at that, both for having the thoughts and for feeling guilty ? also came the desperate sadness and envy at the happiness he could have had with Sarah, to this day even and beyond, and then again guilt that he was betraying Zoe by thinking that. Times like these he often felt she was literally there with him, urging him to let go, but how can you ever, ever let go when the woman you love and who you gave your life, heart and soul to is killed suddenly. ?You?ve always been, you?ll always be?I?you ??
?I know? she finished for him. Sarah moved closer into his body and touch her lips to his, embracing him and pulling him closer as they slowly kissed, deeply passionately. He was the first to break it, nodding as though in a delayed acknowledgement of her last words.
?I gotta go old man? she said softly, hands on both of his upper arms. ?I?ll see ya round the stars flyboy?
That immediately elicited a mock anger in Marco, he hated being referred to as a flyboy, but again that was what he loved so much about her, that unwavering ability to raise the ceiling in any situation and diffuse the tension. She stepped towards the door and opened it, she set one foot into the corridor. ?And you remember where to shove that staff in them scrotes if they need it, alright??
Marco smiled at her. ?Sideways? he answered, not breaking sight of her until the closing door isolated him again in his small quarters where he was then alone again. The surging emotion got the better of him and he slammed a fist into the wall before crossing the room in one large stride and pulling out a loaded hypospray from a storage recess. He touched the device to his temple and dropped to his knees, screaming as he was suddenly back on the burning James Kirk, his younger self trapped by collapsed bulkheads, squinting into the thick black smoke that pulsed red from the lights ? trying to see any movement of people against the backdrop of fire ? of course nothing moved, everyone who had been in the science corridor was dead or dying, the crippling opening volley from the Klingon ship had seen to that. He was trapped in that instant where he knew she was dead, like he had become the personification of that emotion he felt in that very second, and he screamed the sick song that it was, out of control by the drug in the hypo he could do nothing else but live in that torture until it wore off...
OFF
Warrant Officer First Class Marco Tupalov
Chief Flight Control Officer
U.S.S Malinche
Yrel was just on her way out. With the Captain on R&R, all things considering, it seemed like a bad time to disturb her. She didn't have anything important to discuss, really. Nothing that couldn't wait until they she was free. Perhaps tomorrow morning? Maybe. It was all up in the air depending on what she was doing tonight...
'Isn't it more...who I might be doing tonight?' she thought and imagined Cameron cuddled next to her, tracing a finger along the side of her body as she naked on his bed, while throwing out the subtle whispers of sweet commitments to her.
"Ah Ms. Sovereign its good to see you again. How have you been?" asked Mason getting up.
She was initially startled at the greeting by Hunt. She hadn't fully realised he was there. He couldn't have been there long.
"Afternoon, Commander." She smiled politely. This was...what...they're second meeting so far since she was assigned to the Malinche.
"Please, have a seat," he said, dropping into the command chair.
"Well, I'm kind of on the run, sir. I have to go get a final report on the lab's readiness, and...well...explore some rumours, about Jaran."
OFF:<tag Hunt>
'Isn't it more...who I might be doing tonight?' she thought and imagined Cameron cuddled next to her, tracing a finger along the side of her body as she naked on his bed, while throwing out the subtle whispers of sweet commitments to her.
"Ah Ms. Sovereign its good to see you again. How have you been?" asked Mason getting up.
She was initially startled at the greeting by Hunt. She hadn't fully realised he was there. He couldn't have been there long.
"Afternoon, Commander." She smiled politely. This was...what...they're second meeting so far since she was assigned to the Malinche.
"Please, have a seat," he said, dropping into the command chair.
"Well, I'm kind of on the run, sir. I have to go get a final report on the lab's readiness, and...well...explore some rumours, about Jaran."
OFF:<tag Hunt>
Lieutenant Yrel Sovereign
Chief Science Officer & Second Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
On:
<Mess Hall, 1245, Day 5>
Kaitala dropped the spoon in the bowl after stirring the contents around while her mind wandered. She wanted to get back to work, lunch no longer pertinent. Pushing the bowl away and rising to her feet, Kaitala hurried to the door of the Mess Hall.
She strode quickly through the corridors, on a mission, and heading for the nearest turbo lift. She stood waiting impatiently for the doors to open and stepped in, nearly knocking over a surprised Ensign in the process.
As she waited for the turbo lift to arrive to it's destination, Kaitala tapped her fingers on her hip. It felt like the lift was going in slow motion. Her mind flashed to thoughts of criminals on board. Momentarily her eyes moved across the officer who was also occupying the lift.
'It could be you..' she mused as her eyes lingered. The officer obviously had felt her eyes on him, and regarded her nervously. She quickly jerked her head back, focusing on the doors of the lift.
Finally, the doors swooshed open, and she slid out quickly, heading straight for the Security Office. Upon stepping in she scanned the room and found who she was looking for.
She had managed to review the list of officers under her, and recognized the man working at a console a few feet away from her.
She approached him quickly, "Morris[NPC], my office please."
Before he could respond, Kaitala strode into her office, the door shutting behind her. She had time to sit at her desk and tap the desk console before Morris[NPC] entered her office slowly.
"Uh, you wanted to see me, ma'am?" He asked timidly.
"Yes, I want you to compile a list of everyone who has come aboard the Malinche since she has docked." Kaitala demanded. She assumed that the person who was responsible for the sabotage, would most likely be someone who has not been on board for an extended period of time.
"Also, I would like to know if anyone with any expertise in particle fields has been on board." Kaitala finished, and pulled her attention away from the console to regard Morris[NPC].
He blinked at her, and raised his eyebrow, "Uh.. may I ask what this is about, ma'am?"
Kaitala was losing patience with this man. She had thought, from his record that he would deal well with a covert assignment, and not ask unnecessary questions.
"No. Now please get to work, Ensign. I would like this done as soon as possible. When you have the lists compiled, find me immediately. Understood?" She narrowed her eyes, almost menacingly.
"Yes, ma'am." He responded and hurried out of her office.
Perhaps she had been too hard on him, but Kaitala now had a project, something to do, something to keep her mind off what it so desperately kept clinging to: her family.
Off:
[/i]
<Mess Hall, 1245, Day 5>
Kaitala dropped the spoon in the bowl after stirring the contents around while her mind wandered. She wanted to get back to work, lunch no longer pertinent. Pushing the bowl away and rising to her feet, Kaitala hurried to the door of the Mess Hall.
She strode quickly through the corridors, on a mission, and heading for the nearest turbo lift. She stood waiting impatiently for the doors to open and stepped in, nearly knocking over a surprised Ensign in the process.
As she waited for the turbo lift to arrive to it's destination, Kaitala tapped her fingers on her hip. It felt like the lift was going in slow motion. Her mind flashed to thoughts of criminals on board. Momentarily her eyes moved across the officer who was also occupying the lift.
'It could be you..' she mused as her eyes lingered. The officer obviously had felt her eyes on him, and regarded her nervously. She quickly jerked her head back, focusing on the doors of the lift.
Finally, the doors swooshed open, and she slid out quickly, heading straight for the Security Office. Upon stepping in she scanned the room and found who she was looking for.
She had managed to review the list of officers under her, and recognized the man working at a console a few feet away from her.
She approached him quickly, "Morris[NPC], my office please."
Before he could respond, Kaitala strode into her office, the door shutting behind her. She had time to sit at her desk and tap the desk console before Morris[NPC] entered her office slowly.
"Uh, you wanted to see me, ma'am?" He asked timidly.
"Yes, I want you to compile a list of everyone who has come aboard the Malinche since she has docked." Kaitala demanded. She assumed that the person who was responsible for the sabotage, would most likely be someone who has not been on board for an extended period of time.
"Also, I would like to know if anyone with any expertise in particle fields has been on board." Kaitala finished, and pulled her attention away from the console to regard Morris[NPC].
He blinked at her, and raised his eyebrow, "Uh.. may I ask what this is about, ma'am?"
Kaitala was losing patience with this man. She had thought, from his record that he would deal well with a covert assignment, and not ask unnecessary questions.
"No. Now please get to work, Ensign. I would like this done as soon as possible. When you have the lists compiled, find me immediately. Understood?" She narrowed her eyes, almost menacingly.
"Yes, ma'am." He responded and hurried out of her office.
Perhaps she had been too hard on him, but Kaitala now had a project, something to do, something to keep her mind off what it so desperately kept clinging to: her family.
Off:
[/i]
Lieutenant JG Kaitala
Chief Security / Tactical Officer
USS Malinche NCC - 38897-B
<Sickbay, 1930, MD05>
---------------------------
Isabel
Unless the crew member who was blamed for the initial hit hardly struck with any force then it is unlikely the second crew member was even touched. You should look for epidermic strain on the muscles around the face, sounds of muffled speech or even a sense of nervousness in the victim's attitude. Being hit with enough force to have to retaliate in my imagination would cause at least one of the previous three. Need me to take a look at anything? Hope this helps.
Cameron.
---------------------------
Jack walked along the corridor heading towards sickbay, he?d been to busy with looking into Jarans murder, helped by the files he was sent by the captain, as well as preparing his department for the upcoming mission and hadn?t had a chance to visit sick bay and get the swelling and bruise on his cheek sorted. He rounded the corner and approached the door to the Malinches medical facility.
Doctor Fairbairn was simply stepping out of the main office, luckily the day hadn't been so long and he was close to briefing Lynn on the Beta shift report before he left her in charge. He had been at it since 0700 that morning, luckily she hadn't started till 1400 regardless of whether she got sleep or not that night. He felt happy to let the young Ensign take over, she had a down to earth attitude and a fantastic bed-side manner. What more could be wanted aboard the modern accompaniement of the little Prometheus class. Isabel's message had him concerned and so did the meeting with the new Cob. But regardless he plugged on. His eyes took in the sight of the bruised Jack Hawkins and he sighed, folding his arms immediately. "Fighting, Lieutenant? Or did we fall down in a turbolift?"
Jack saw the doctor and nearly turned around and left, he was partly hoping to just see a nurse rather than face the guilt inducing stare of the chief medical officer, ?Shuffleboard incident, I tell ya, those retired admirals play rough??
"Sit." Cameron said, indicating the first examination bed in the room. They had been callibrated that morning for departure so either way he'd figure out what exactly his young friend had been up to. The medical tricorder instantly popped out and opened and the readings came in as the Doctor examined him. "Shuffleboard incident my arse, kiddo. Listen I've had a really tough day. It's been a worrying past hour or so - if you could just tell me the truth you'd make me a happy man."
?I had a run in with an arrogant, self important, prejudice petty officer with a distinct lack of a sense of humour and serious anger management issues.?
"Excellent." Cameron said, pulling his diagnostics chair over and sitting down in front of him. The readings on the tricorder was simple, signs of neurological stress and epidermic tension. "So you were one punched by a noncom in your department who disagreed? Not the first time I've treated that...I see you've been holding ice to it too." He was reaching up now, moving Jack's jaw and examining.
?Nope, it was our new chief of the boat, that guy has a major problem with those of us with pips on our collars?
As he stepped away to fetch an epidermic hypospray, a slight shudder fell down the doctors spine. He could believe the Tupalov would hit someone, but a senior officer? And yet he had just condoned the man's drug abuse. "Ah...I've met him." He said, clearly holding back with his medical rights. "A very, very tough character. What sparked the argument?"
?His being an ass?? Jack noticed something in the doctors eyes, something he couldn?t quite but his finger on. He had a thought as the doctor reached for the medication, ?Can you scan for stray epithelials on my cheek? And also on my hands? Son of a bitch had the audacity to go to Kersare and say I had hit him first?
'Ah...' the Doctor thought 'That's where the message had came from then.' He began the scan on his hand and actually lifted the morning report PaDD to make a note of the cellular traces. That was sufficient evidence at least to back the young man up. "Did you rile him up? I mean...you might outrank him but surely you can be smart enough to keep your mouth shut." Cam stated with a bit of sarcasm.
?You have met me right doc?? Jack said with a wink. ?He came into my office whinging about something totally trivial, to be honest I think it was all part of some plan to see how far he can push people, some might call it the symptom of a self-destructive personality."
"Well from my experiences and knowledge of him he's certainly suffering from some mental issues. Whether or not he'd see Counselor McKenzie...well I can't say." Cameron shrugged. "Who the hell knows - most senior noncoms hate the paper pushers as we are referred to but they keep their mouths firmly shut and know it's wise to stick to the job."
Jack shrugged too, ?I doubt it, she?s got pips after all. And to be honest I?m not sure how she could help him, nor can I fully understand his problem, we all wear the same uniform after all??
"Maybe so, you could place it down as jealousy or disfunction. A serious lack of discipline from the enlisted side of life. They tend to screw up the most and wind up in sickbays." Softly the Doctor tilted Jack's head and sprayed the hypo injection into him. "They're unaware of any disease, that's what they seem to say. Fair enough we may look like pencil pushers but the academy teaches you the ettiquete. As much as I hate the bloody place..." He sighed and left the hypo on the bed, taking the vial out and moving away to clean it. "The blood should drain from your tissue and relax the muscle, you'll feel numb for a little while and the pain won't go away but try not to rub it or touch it, okay?"
Jack stretched his jaw, resisting the urge to rub his cheek as the swelling decreased, ?I?ll do my best? He hopped off the bed, ?Thanks, once again doc?
"Don't worry about it. But Jack?" He said. The intelligence officer wheeled round and the doctor pointed to his own mouth. "Keep this closed in the future, okay?"
Jack made a zipping motion with his fingers across his lips before he winked and headed out the door.
Sighing, Cameron began cleaning the medical equipment from the bed and clearing it. He also made a final note of Jack's entry into the daily log and made sure to note it's importance towards a domestic issue aboard the vessel. That would leave Lynn scratching her head, he thought smiling.
OFF: JP by:
Lieutenant JG Jack Hawkins
Acting Chief Intelligence Officer
and
---------------------------
Isabel
Unless the crew member who was blamed for the initial hit hardly struck with any force then it is unlikely the second crew member was even touched. You should look for epidermic strain on the muscles around the face, sounds of muffled speech or even a sense of nervousness in the victim's attitude. Being hit with enough force to have to retaliate in my imagination would cause at least one of the previous three. Need me to take a look at anything? Hope this helps.
Cameron.
---------------------------
Jack walked along the corridor heading towards sickbay, he?d been to busy with looking into Jarans murder, helped by the files he was sent by the captain, as well as preparing his department for the upcoming mission and hadn?t had a chance to visit sick bay and get the swelling and bruise on his cheek sorted. He rounded the corner and approached the door to the Malinches medical facility.
Doctor Fairbairn was simply stepping out of the main office, luckily the day hadn't been so long and he was close to briefing Lynn on the Beta shift report before he left her in charge. He had been at it since 0700 that morning, luckily she hadn't started till 1400 regardless of whether she got sleep or not that night. He felt happy to let the young Ensign take over, she had a down to earth attitude and a fantastic bed-side manner. What more could be wanted aboard the modern accompaniement of the little Prometheus class. Isabel's message had him concerned and so did the meeting with the new Cob. But regardless he plugged on. His eyes took in the sight of the bruised Jack Hawkins and he sighed, folding his arms immediately. "Fighting, Lieutenant? Or did we fall down in a turbolift?"
Jack saw the doctor and nearly turned around and left, he was partly hoping to just see a nurse rather than face the guilt inducing stare of the chief medical officer, ?Shuffleboard incident, I tell ya, those retired admirals play rough??
"Sit." Cameron said, indicating the first examination bed in the room. They had been callibrated that morning for departure so either way he'd figure out what exactly his young friend had been up to. The medical tricorder instantly popped out and opened and the readings came in as the Doctor examined him. "Shuffleboard incident my arse, kiddo. Listen I've had a really tough day. It's been a worrying past hour or so - if you could just tell me the truth you'd make me a happy man."
?I had a run in with an arrogant, self important, prejudice petty officer with a distinct lack of a sense of humour and serious anger management issues.?
"Excellent." Cameron said, pulling his diagnostics chair over and sitting down in front of him. The readings on the tricorder was simple, signs of neurological stress and epidermic tension. "So you were one punched by a noncom in your department who disagreed? Not the first time I've treated that...I see you've been holding ice to it too." He was reaching up now, moving Jack's jaw and examining.
?Nope, it was our new chief of the boat, that guy has a major problem with those of us with pips on our collars?
As he stepped away to fetch an epidermic hypospray, a slight shudder fell down the doctors spine. He could believe the Tupalov would hit someone, but a senior officer? And yet he had just condoned the man's drug abuse. "Ah...I've met him." He said, clearly holding back with his medical rights. "A very, very tough character. What sparked the argument?"
?His being an ass?? Jack noticed something in the doctors eyes, something he couldn?t quite but his finger on. He had a thought as the doctor reached for the medication, ?Can you scan for stray epithelials on my cheek? And also on my hands? Son of a bitch had the audacity to go to Kersare and say I had hit him first?
'Ah...' the Doctor thought 'That's where the message had came from then.' He began the scan on his hand and actually lifted the morning report PaDD to make a note of the cellular traces. That was sufficient evidence at least to back the young man up. "Did you rile him up? I mean...you might outrank him but surely you can be smart enough to keep your mouth shut." Cam stated with a bit of sarcasm.
?You have met me right doc?? Jack said with a wink. ?He came into my office whinging about something totally trivial, to be honest I think it was all part of some plan to see how far he can push people, some might call it the symptom of a self-destructive personality."
"Well from my experiences and knowledge of him he's certainly suffering from some mental issues. Whether or not he'd see Counselor McKenzie...well I can't say." Cameron shrugged. "Who the hell knows - most senior noncoms hate the paper pushers as we are referred to but they keep their mouths firmly shut and know it's wise to stick to the job."
Jack shrugged too, ?I doubt it, she?s got pips after all. And to be honest I?m not sure how she could help him, nor can I fully understand his problem, we all wear the same uniform after all??
"Maybe so, you could place it down as jealousy or disfunction. A serious lack of discipline from the enlisted side of life. They tend to screw up the most and wind up in sickbays." Softly the Doctor tilted Jack's head and sprayed the hypo injection into him. "They're unaware of any disease, that's what they seem to say. Fair enough we may look like pencil pushers but the academy teaches you the ettiquete. As much as I hate the bloody place..." He sighed and left the hypo on the bed, taking the vial out and moving away to clean it. "The blood should drain from your tissue and relax the muscle, you'll feel numb for a little while and the pain won't go away but try not to rub it or touch it, okay?"
Jack stretched his jaw, resisting the urge to rub his cheek as the swelling decreased, ?I?ll do my best? He hopped off the bed, ?Thanks, once again doc?
"Don't worry about it. But Jack?" He said. The intelligence officer wheeled round and the doctor pointed to his own mouth. "Keep this closed in the future, okay?"
Jack made a zipping motion with his fingers across his lips before he winked and headed out the door.
Sighing, Cameron began cleaning the medical equipment from the bed and clearing it. He also made a final note of Jack's entry into the daily log and made sure to note it's importance towards a domestic issue aboard the vessel. That would leave Lynn scratching her head, he thought smiling.
OFF: JP by:
Lieutenant JG Jack Hawkins
Acting Chief Intelligence Officer
and
Doctor (Lt.) Cameron Fairbairn
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche
NCC-38897-B
"Some patients, though conscious that their condition is perilous, recover their health simply through their contentment with the goodness of the physician." - Hippocrates 460-400 B.C.