ON: Turbolift. 2045. Day 3.
Jaran stood still as the doors closed, the bridge disappeared from view leaving a host of stunned officers and ratings.
He looked sideways at Stone, his face like his namesake - it took seconds for a small smile to flicker up his left cheek. His grip was released and the phaser re-holstered.
"Abu, what the hell you going to do?" he asked almost excitedly.
Jarans eyes slowly moved back to facing forward. He closed his eyelids and heard screams echo through his ears.
"C'mon man" the Ensign pushed, "I can get people together, I know people who will help. We can get the bridge, seal off the rest of the ship..."
Jaran turned then to look; "Captain Kersare may be wrong... But I will not turn this into a mutiny." Jaran said flatly. His eyebrows jumped up, "but..." he began. "See to it only men who can be trusted are assigned to me, just in case."
"Your quarters or the brig?" Stone asked.
"Brig" Abubakar replied, "makes more sense, fits in better."
"What about the shuttlebay?" Stone asked, an idea formulating. "If you're gonna get off this ship, then you'll need the shuttlebay on your side."
Abubakar nodded, deep in thought as the turbolift doors opened and they began walking.He started talking in a very low whisper; "The shuttlebay is still totally isolated from the ship, running independently...including communications." Jaran looked down the corridor. "Post guards at every access point, make sure you can trust them, and tell them they're to tell anyone that asks...that they're there to stop me getting in. Don't let them let anyone else in either, and word of the command change won't reach them. It could be as easy as just walking in and onto a shuttle..."
Stone cracked a smile, they turned the corner into the Brig. By now word had gone to every console on the main ODN informing them, so the Brig was aware they had incoming. Inside was Weaver and Lorik, Abubakar knew Lorik very well because of their shared faith. Weaver however, was a real Security bitch. Unfortunately, as a superior officer Weaver could not be dismissed by stone.
Jaran looked at Stone, an almost panicked look but still one that insinuated action rather than desperation. Stone unclipped his phaser and whacked Jaran across the head with it, leaving a large gash. Jaran jumped forward and thumped Stone in the jaw, Lorik and Weaver leaped onto Jaran and pinned him down against the bulkhead.
"Get a medkit!" Lorik shouted, her attitude defiant of her enlisted rank. Stone returned reluctantly with a medkit and picked out a hyposray, he programmed something in.
"You don't deserve painkillers" he spat aggressively at Jaran, who'se cheek twitched with anger.
"Piss off!" he spat.
The hypospray landed on Weavers neck and she quickly fell off to the side, just having time to touch her neck and cast a 'look' to Stone who swiftly moved Weaver away and into the end cell, out of the field of view for anyone who came into the large open room.
Lorik looked up at Jaran. "Now what?" she asked, her eyes widened.
"Now, Tone' will assemble security teams at the shuttlebay, and you'll wait guarding me until someone has seen me here, ok?"
The pair nodded and Stone headed to the door. Lorik took off Jarans communicator and motioned for him to go into the cell closest the door.
"Tone!" Abubakar shouted to Stone, who turned back around. "Get me C'eltor here, quickly." Jaran entered the cell, Stone nodded and left the Brig. Jaran sat down and the forcefield went up.
"Kali'Borek Kosst Amojan" Lorik said, looking at Jaran with an odd look of admiration.
"Kali'Borek Kosst Amojan" Abubakar said back, nodding and touching the red band on his arm.
OFF
You Can't Judge A Planet By Its Dilithium
Moderators: Tournneau, Korath, Kersare
-
Peters
- Senior Staff
- Posts: 202
- Joined: Mon Mar 20, 2006 2:17 pm
- Location: Space, the final frontier...
- Contact:
1 Horse Rodeo
OFF: Humorously dedicated to Steve Irwin, may he rest in peace.
ON: <Direidi Courtroom, 2033, Day 3>
Peters watched as Door Number 1 swung open, holding his breath. Suddenly a man in hiking boots, khaki shorts and shirt, and with frizzy blond hair stepped out. "Crikey, my friend, you've picked Door Number One. The next piece of evidence ta be considered is... CRIKEY! It's on the snout of this here crocodile! Hold a minute and let me git her off a there."
Peters groaned. The man had the most outrageous Australian accent. To top it off, he was wrestling the crocodile. This did not bode well.
Isabel raised an eyebrow, then resisted the urge to laugh. Whoever this latest person was, he was certainly amusing. Another thought that sobered her was the possibility that Todd would be asked to do a similar act.
The man was now straddling the crocodile's back and holding his hands over the animal's eyes. "This here is how you sedate a croc without any of them nasty drugs. But ya have ta be careful, she's a bit feisty today. 'Tis matin' season, you know."
The sound of Peters' hand slapping against his forehead echoed loudly in the courtroom. Next thing he knew the man was going to tell him that HE had to wrestle the crocodile or something equally unpleasant. Peters suddenly wished, very much, that he'd been the one to pick Door Number 2.
"Alright, now, lessee," the man said, unfolding the card that had been on the crocodile's snout. "It says here that the next piece of evidence ta be reviewed is a pair of phaser rifles found a few blocks away from the scene of the crime. Danger Danger."
Danger danger? Wow....Isabel shook her head slightly, this guy was a character, no doubt. He certainly seemed to have a way with animals in any case...
He looked at Peters and cocked his head. "I take it you're ta be the lucky contestant? Alright, then, let's get started. You have to ride this bonzer buckin' bronco for 8 full seconds."
"I knew I did the right thing when I chose a different door", muttered Grayson dryly."Go for it, Peters. You were born to face this challenge", said him to Peters. "My suggestion is that you avoid being chewed", added him with a cynical smile on his face.
Isabel nodded encouragingly, "Go on Todd, I'm sure you can do it. Just hold on for 8 seconds."
Peters looked at the horse being brought out into the courtroom, onto an area that had come up out of the floor where the Plinko board had just been and now had rails around it and a sand-covered floor. He swallowed hard, remembering file images of people that used to be called "Cowboys" who had ridden horses in such a manner in "Rodeos." With a strong sense of foreboding, he stepped over to the smaller enclosure that the horse was being led into. One end of it opened into the court, the other had a gate that led to the sandy area.
Mark blinked from where all those things had came from? There wasn't anything of that size there a minute before. He glanced at Kersare, who also watched in awe.
Carefully, and with a lot of help from the people that had brought the horse in, Peters climbed onto the rail and slid onto the saddle on the horse's back. As soon as he had his feet set, Peters heard the Australian start talking. "Alright, now I'm gonna explain the rules of this game ta ya. You sit on this here horse, like so, and then when that gate opens in front of you, ya ride 'im out into the pen. He's gonna start buckin', so hold on tight. We'll be timin' ya out here. When you get thrown off or get ta 8 seconds, the boys here's corral the horse and get you back ta your seat."
Isabel brought two slender fingers to her mouth, watching in anticipation. It certainly sounded and looked rather dangerous - much more dangerous than the harmless Plinko game... Eight seconds didn't seem like that long of a time, but she was sure it would feel like an eternity while watching.
Seeing Todd look back a moment, she smiled, nodding. He looked rather apprehensive - not a good sign. Hopefully he'd be able to relax a bit. She didn't have much experience with horses, but she didn't think that being stiff and nervous would be the way to stay on the horse.
"Peters, just imagine you're tweaking a warp engine. The rest is easy", said Mark. "Of course, tweaking a warp engine can't break your neck", added him, lowering his voice enough not to Peters to hear him.
"And how many warp engines have you tweaked?" Peters retorted. He returned his attention to the animal just in time for the gate to be swung open. Peters grabbed frantically at the saddlehorn as the horse lunged forward.
Mark shrugged. "None. I was just trying to encourage you. Don't be an ingrate", replied Grayson. "Engineers...", muttered him.
Peters managed to hang on for what seemed to him to be several minutes. Then the horse twisted in mid-air, bucked again as soon as it touched the ground, and lunched to the side, seemingly all at once. Peters felt his fingers slipping away from their hold and grabbed desperately at the air that was suddenly between his legs just before he hit the ground.
He remembered enough of his Starfleet Survival training to instinctively curl up and roll to ease the landing. He came to a stop upside-down, against the fence post. The horse was now standing stock-still in the center of the fenced area, looking straight at him.
Isabel watched apprehensively as Todd began his challenge. He was doing well at first, then was thrown off. Involuntarily drawing in her breath, she watched closely to see if Todd looked alright.
Peters slowly climbed to his feet as the stagehands, as Peters had privately decided to call them, corralled the horse and led it out of the courtroom. He had a few bumps and bruises, but other than that couldn't find anything wrong with himself. He did, however, ache in a few places he hadn't known could ache.
"Captain, I counted eight second. What about you?", asked Grayson to Kersare.
"It was either eight seconds, or at least very very close," Isabel replied. "We'll have to wait for the official ruling. Maybe that girl in the sparkly dress will write it on that chalkboard..."
OFF:
A JP with
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
&
Lieutenant, JG Mark Grayson II
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
ON: <Direidi Courtroom, 2033, Day 3>
Peters watched as Door Number 1 swung open, holding his breath. Suddenly a man in hiking boots, khaki shorts and shirt, and with frizzy blond hair stepped out. "Crikey, my friend, you've picked Door Number One. The next piece of evidence ta be considered is... CRIKEY! It's on the snout of this here crocodile! Hold a minute and let me git her off a there."
Peters groaned. The man had the most outrageous Australian accent. To top it off, he was wrestling the crocodile. This did not bode well.
Isabel raised an eyebrow, then resisted the urge to laugh. Whoever this latest person was, he was certainly amusing. Another thought that sobered her was the possibility that Todd would be asked to do a similar act.
The man was now straddling the crocodile's back and holding his hands over the animal's eyes. "This here is how you sedate a croc without any of them nasty drugs. But ya have ta be careful, she's a bit feisty today. 'Tis matin' season, you know."
The sound of Peters' hand slapping against his forehead echoed loudly in the courtroom. Next thing he knew the man was going to tell him that HE had to wrestle the crocodile or something equally unpleasant. Peters suddenly wished, very much, that he'd been the one to pick Door Number 2.
"Alright, now, lessee," the man said, unfolding the card that had been on the crocodile's snout. "It says here that the next piece of evidence ta be reviewed is a pair of phaser rifles found a few blocks away from the scene of the crime. Danger Danger."
Danger danger? Wow....Isabel shook her head slightly, this guy was a character, no doubt. He certainly seemed to have a way with animals in any case...
He looked at Peters and cocked his head. "I take it you're ta be the lucky contestant? Alright, then, let's get started. You have to ride this bonzer buckin' bronco for 8 full seconds."
"I knew I did the right thing when I chose a different door", muttered Grayson dryly."Go for it, Peters. You were born to face this challenge", said him to Peters. "My suggestion is that you avoid being chewed", added him with a cynical smile on his face.
Isabel nodded encouragingly, "Go on Todd, I'm sure you can do it. Just hold on for 8 seconds."
Peters looked at the horse being brought out into the courtroom, onto an area that had come up out of the floor where the Plinko board had just been and now had rails around it and a sand-covered floor. He swallowed hard, remembering file images of people that used to be called "Cowboys" who had ridden horses in such a manner in "Rodeos." With a strong sense of foreboding, he stepped over to the smaller enclosure that the horse was being led into. One end of it opened into the court, the other had a gate that led to the sandy area.
Mark blinked from where all those things had came from? There wasn't anything of that size there a minute before. He glanced at Kersare, who also watched in awe.
Carefully, and with a lot of help from the people that had brought the horse in, Peters climbed onto the rail and slid onto the saddle on the horse's back. As soon as he had his feet set, Peters heard the Australian start talking. "Alright, now I'm gonna explain the rules of this game ta ya. You sit on this here horse, like so, and then when that gate opens in front of you, ya ride 'im out into the pen. He's gonna start buckin', so hold on tight. We'll be timin' ya out here. When you get thrown off or get ta 8 seconds, the boys here's corral the horse and get you back ta your seat."
Isabel brought two slender fingers to her mouth, watching in anticipation. It certainly sounded and looked rather dangerous - much more dangerous than the harmless Plinko game... Eight seconds didn't seem like that long of a time, but she was sure it would feel like an eternity while watching.
Seeing Todd look back a moment, she smiled, nodding. He looked rather apprehensive - not a good sign. Hopefully he'd be able to relax a bit. She didn't have much experience with horses, but she didn't think that being stiff and nervous would be the way to stay on the horse.
"Peters, just imagine you're tweaking a warp engine. The rest is easy", said Mark. "Of course, tweaking a warp engine can't break your neck", added him, lowering his voice enough not to Peters to hear him.
"And how many warp engines have you tweaked?" Peters retorted. He returned his attention to the animal just in time for the gate to be swung open. Peters grabbed frantically at the saddlehorn as the horse lunged forward.
Mark shrugged. "None. I was just trying to encourage you. Don't be an ingrate", replied Grayson. "Engineers...", muttered him.
Peters managed to hang on for what seemed to him to be several minutes. Then the horse twisted in mid-air, bucked again as soon as it touched the ground, and lunched to the side, seemingly all at once. Peters felt his fingers slipping away from their hold and grabbed desperately at the air that was suddenly between his legs just before he hit the ground.
He remembered enough of his Starfleet Survival training to instinctively curl up and roll to ease the landing. He came to a stop upside-down, against the fence post. The horse was now standing stock-still in the center of the fenced area, looking straight at him.
Isabel watched apprehensively as Todd began his challenge. He was doing well at first, then was thrown off. Involuntarily drawing in her breath, she watched closely to see if Todd looked alright.
Peters slowly climbed to his feet as the stagehands, as Peters had privately decided to call them, corralled the horse and led it out of the courtroom. He had a few bumps and bruises, but other than that couldn't find anything wrong with himself. He did, however, ache in a few places he hadn't known could ache.
"Captain, I counted eight second. What about you?", asked Grayson to Kersare.
"It was either eight seconds, or at least very very close," Isabel replied. "We'll have to wait for the official ruling. Maybe that girl in the sparkly dress will write it on that chalkboard..."
OFF:
A JP with
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
&
Lieutenant, JG Mark Grayson II
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Tony
AKA
Lieutenant Commander Todd Peters
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
-
Rayne
- Crewmember
- Posts: 94
- Joined: Mon Dec 19, 2005 11:46 pm
- Location: Running away from the penguins that come one by one to steal away my sanity
- Contact:
Hunting the Hunter...
ON: <Direidi, 2040, Day 3>
The whole time durring the trial that was going on in the Direidi Courtroom, Sara was tracking down what she belived to be the SFI:9 agent sent to make sure what she knew wouldn't come to light. It wasn't just the fighter anymore it was the real reason for her being sent here. Why they waited this long to try silencing her, was all a part of the bigger mystery. Someone wanted her dead, and she wasn't about to let that happen. With luck the agent sent to deal with her would be fooled by the holographic facismly she cleverly placed inside the courtroom. Still something deep inside her mind gave her a sense of foreboding, a feeling she felt only once before durring the Dominion War. Something else was going on here beside a agent sent after her, If only she knew how serious the situation was growing back aboard the Malinche. For now she was alone stalking the very person that remained hidden in the shadows looking for her. <To be continued>
OFF: Tags anyone.
The whole time durring the trial that was going on in the Direidi Courtroom, Sara was tracking down what she belived to be the SFI:9 agent sent to make sure what she knew wouldn't come to light. It wasn't just the fighter anymore it was the real reason for her being sent here. Why they waited this long to try silencing her, was all a part of the bigger mystery. Someone wanted her dead, and she wasn't about to let that happen. With luck the agent sent to deal with her would be fooled by the holographic facismly she cleverly placed inside the courtroom. Still something deep inside her mind gave her a sense of foreboding, a feeling she felt only once before durring the Dominion War. Something else was going on here beside a agent sent after her, If only she knew how serious the situation was growing back aboard the Malinche. For now she was alone stalking the very person that remained hidden in the shadows looking for her. <To be continued>
OFF: Tags anyone.
Ensign Sara Rayne
Acting Assistant Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Malinche-B NCC-38897-B
"Beware The Penguins!"
<<Bridge, USS Malinche, Day 3, 2102 hours>>
Well, the first fifteens of Yrel's command had actually gone pretty smooth, surprise surprise. No mutiny's and no sudden attack by the unknown vessel. Everything was pretty calm so far on the bridge. Maybe she had what it takes afterall...
<i>'It's only fifteen minutes, don't get too cocky,'</i> she nagged herself mentally, killing any hope of her building confidence from flourishing into arrogance. It <b>was</b> only fifteens minutes. There was still plenty to get done. First off was the tracking of the unknown vessel at the edge of the system. She had given it as much thought as possible while information was being relayed from the shuttlecraft, and she was stuck having to deal with the fine details of command work: paperwork. Even in the midst of a crisis, with the ship at red alert and the ship at full comabt readiness, there was <b>always</b> the demand for paperwork to get done.
A bunch of ideas on tracking the vessel came to mind, but after a couple hopeful minutes of diliberation, she always came to the same realisation: the borg were the borg. Any and everything that could be done to track a ship other than the borg would work, but the borg were different. They could adapt, as famously known. attaching any device could be usually countered by energy dampening fields. emitting particles on the vessels hull and use that as a path to scan and follow could be countered by masking their emissions. It was all a tough thing to try and find something that could track the borg.
It was usually around this point that Yrel would give up and bring her problems to the commanding officer to decide and deal with, when she realsied that she was just that person right now. A reatively low-experienced science officer in the seat of someone that decided so much for the sake of the ship's safety was all she was right now.
"Lieutenant," Tamlin said. "We're receiving a message from Ensign Sychorski 's shuttle. They've suffered damage to the shuttle and are returning under what emergency power is there."
Yrel heart skipped a beat. Did the borg attack?
"Damage from what?!" her voice was five tones too loud for the typically quiet woman.
"Unspecified," he replied. "The shuttle's communications are failing."
Yrel paused for a what felt like an eternity, but what was really only a couple minutes. Tamlin and the rest of the bridge staff held their breath.
"Will they make it back under their own power?"
"Hard to say," Tamlin kept his view on his console. Yrel's narrow her eyes at the officer.
"I don't care if it's hard to say, just say it!" she pratically yelled at him.
"No."
Well, that was finally an answer. "Okay, take us out of orbit. Set course to intercept the shuttle. Have the shuttlebay ready for an emergency shuttle landing. Keep weaposn ready in case the ship come after us. And send a message to Kersare. Tell her that shuttle's been damage by unknown sources and we're going to its rescue."
"Yes, ma'am." Tamlin nodded as the bridge set about it's orders.
<i>'So much for a nice start to my first command...'</i>
OFF: Too much?
Well, the first fifteens of Yrel's command had actually gone pretty smooth, surprise surprise. No mutiny's and no sudden attack by the unknown vessel. Everything was pretty calm so far on the bridge. Maybe she had what it takes afterall...
<i>'It's only fifteen minutes, don't get too cocky,'</i> she nagged herself mentally, killing any hope of her building confidence from flourishing into arrogance. It <b>was</b> only fifteens minutes. There was still plenty to get done. First off was the tracking of the unknown vessel at the edge of the system. She had given it as much thought as possible while information was being relayed from the shuttlecraft, and she was stuck having to deal with the fine details of command work: paperwork. Even in the midst of a crisis, with the ship at red alert and the ship at full comabt readiness, there was <b>always</b> the demand for paperwork to get done.
A bunch of ideas on tracking the vessel came to mind, but after a couple hopeful minutes of diliberation, she always came to the same realisation: the borg were the borg. Any and everything that could be done to track a ship other than the borg would work, but the borg were different. They could adapt, as famously known. attaching any device could be usually countered by energy dampening fields. emitting particles on the vessels hull and use that as a path to scan and follow could be countered by masking their emissions. It was all a tough thing to try and find something that could track the borg.
It was usually around this point that Yrel would give up and bring her problems to the commanding officer to decide and deal with, when she realsied that she was just that person right now. A reatively low-experienced science officer in the seat of someone that decided so much for the sake of the ship's safety was all she was right now.
"Lieutenant," Tamlin said. "We're receiving a message from Ensign Sychorski 's shuttle. They've suffered damage to the shuttle and are returning under what emergency power is there."
Yrel heart skipped a beat. Did the borg attack?
"Damage from what?!" her voice was five tones too loud for the typically quiet woman.
"Unspecified," he replied. "The shuttle's communications are failing."
Yrel paused for a what felt like an eternity, but what was really only a couple minutes. Tamlin and the rest of the bridge staff held their breath.
"Will they make it back under their own power?"
"Hard to say," Tamlin kept his view on his console. Yrel's narrow her eyes at the officer.
"I don't care if it's hard to say, just say it!" she pratically yelled at him.
"No."
Well, that was finally an answer. "Okay, take us out of orbit. Set course to intercept the shuttle. Have the shuttlebay ready for an emergency shuttle landing. Keep weaposn ready in case the ship come after us. And send a message to Kersare. Tell her that shuttle's been damage by unknown sources and we're going to its rescue."
"Yes, ma'am." Tamlin nodded as the bridge set about it's orders.
<i>'So much for a nice start to my first command...'</i>
OFF: Too much?
Lieutenant Yrel Sovereign
Chief Science Officer & Second Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
-
Thundera
- Senior Staff
- Posts: 185
- Joined: Mon Dec 19, 2005 11:35 pm
- Location: Nasty Borg Bitch!
- Contact:
On:
<Basement Warehouse, 1947, Day 3>
Mason took a firm grab of the man's arms and hands in fear that he would react in the same manner as the woman did. For just a few seconds the man shook his head holding the left side of his neck. When he removed his hand Mason noticed a small but visiable black and blue mark. He turned to face the man after sitting him down seeing he was suprisingly calm.
"I am Commander Mason Hunt of the USS Malinche and this is Lieutenant Thundera. Are you alright?" asked Mason staring at the man closely hoping he would come to
The man just sat there in a somewhat of a dazed state and then taking a quick look at Mason then over to Thundera.
Cheetara locked eyes with the man. She was sensing something unknown at the moment. Then she turned and looked at the woman who started walking over.
"James. Are you ok? What's going on?" she asked him as she hugged him tightly.
"It's ok", Cheetara stated again trying to sooth the fear. "We are here to help you. But to help you, you need to help us understand what happened, and where we are."
The man gazed around the holographic room. Everything seemed fuzzy and distorted to him as if he was in another world. He tried very hard to bring up a moment of breath but instead he pointed to something on the fall wall underneath a table.
"Thundera, help me get them over there. Scan the atmosphere for anything that might be stopping their speech." said Mason dragging the man to his feet.
"Right Sir" Cheetara said tapping a few buttons on her tricorder and placing her right hand on the woman's shoulder to lead her over. After a few moments something popped up. "Sir, take a look at this!" she said turning the pad over for his eyes. "What would make a phasionic signature like that?"
Mason paused for a moment to have a look at the signature. "It could be a long rang inversion pulse from a portable generator or a strong focused emitter beam from a nearby ship." said Mason.
The XO looked around once more seeing that the holographic simulation was begining to fade out. He turned back to Thundera."We have got to get out of here. Can you reach further into his mind before we are torn to shreds." asked Mason.
Cheetara wondered how far she could use these emittions to further her telepathy. "I'm not really sure. But I'll give it a try." She stopped in her tracks and turned toward the man. She reached toward his face out of instinct.
"What are you doing?", the woman shrieked becoming scared as Cheetara tried what looked like a Vulcan mind meld. "Leave him be!"
Cheetara began to get flooded with images. Something wasn't right. They felt as if they were being treated like lab mice from a maze.
"Sir", Cheetara said releasing her grip from the man. "I'm starting to understand what's been going on and how they were able to communicate. It seems they were caught in a spacial anomily and got caught offgaurd. Then they crashed on this planet and were apparantly unconscious. When they awoke, they found themselves placed into this giant maze. It appears to be a form of amusement for whoever did it. But they have become trapped and can't find their way out. Not to mention they can't find any of the other crewmembers from their ship."
Being stunned by what he just heard also made him infuriated as to why a race such as the Dereidi would do something like this. One thing was for sure they needed to get out of there and fast.
"Alright, that just made me dislike this Dereidi even more. Lieutenant is if my readings are correct the signature is still strong and no doubt the Dereidi are unaware we are onto them. Could we some how use the signature to completly disappiate this program without killing us and them?"
"Actually Sir, I'm one step ahead of you." she answered. "I've been working on something already. By reversing the polarity of their signals, and counteracting the signatures from the phasionic charges, we should be able to completely shut this down without any reprocussions. However, there will be a 'slight' boom"
Cheetara snickered a little at the useage of slight and boom knowing that the Commander would pick up on the sarcasm as she tapped the buttons on the tricorder.
"And of course, our exit will be over there" she said pointing. "All I need is the order Sir. I've already finished the computations" she said as she finished tapping the buttons on the tricorder.
The simulation was closing in on them and Mason did not see any other choice and nodded. "Let her rip Lieutenant." said Mason forcing his head down as well as the man and the woman.
"Stand back." she said as she stood there and pressed the final buttons of the sequence.
The generator imploded as pieces of it scattered. The only thing that Cheetara wondered was if that would cause another explosion somewhere else. After all, there had to be a master mainframe somewhere.
"Sir, I suggest we get out of here quickly. We don't know if another explosion is going to occur" she said helping the woman up.
There was a double door just inches away from where they were, Mason could feel some rumbling under his feet as he was sure the others did as well. Pieces of one wall began to shutter and fall
"Ok no time like the present let's go." shouted Mason.
The group altogther charged towards the doors suprising to find it unlocked. With one final leap forward they landed on a rather warm carpeted floor with lights above their heads.
Is everyone alright? Lieutenant where are we?"
"We seem to still be below ground" Cheetara began. "But I can't tell how far down."
Cheetara looked around the room. There were 6 different colored and shaped doors. A Red Oval, a Orange Square, a Yellow Rectangle, a Green Hexagon, a Blue Pentagon, and a Purple Octagon. "I guess it's Eeny Miny Moe time", came some sarcasm she had read with her telepathic side. She just wasn't sure from whom she had read it from.
Jason had about had it with the holograms, doors and everything else. He was aware that this may have provided some sort of amusement to the Dereidi. He was tempted to take his phaser and simply blow out the doors, although he knew that wouldn't work...well more then likely it wouldn't work.
"Commentary: This speices appears to have a highly oddly developed sense of humor; even for meatbags."
Jason shot Zero (NPC) a look of annoyance.
"Anyone know where we are?" Rhone asked.
Jason looked down at his own tricorder, which wasn't showing him much of anything as of late. He sighed loudly, what he wouldn't give to being shot at right now at least they there was a clear target. All they had done so far was play along with thier game....maybe that was it. Jason was seething with anger. He leaned against the red door, thoughts of violence creeping through his mind...and then felt the door slide away, nearly dumping him on the ground. Everyone in the room turned to look at him.
"What did you do?" Hunt asked.
"Nothing....I was just angry....wait a second! What if these doors are emotionally color coded....red for anger. I was angry when I touched it; maybe that was where the rest of the crew went...they could have been sorted by thier various emotions," Jason said, getting back to his feet. "Look, red for anger that door we came in was...black...maybe the Dereidi placed these two in there cause they were knocked out, you know no emotion."
"Commentary: That would prove an odd way of sorting crew memebers, although give with what the Dereidi have done so far it would be logical to assume they would try something like this."
OFF: A JP By
Commander Mason Hunt
Excutive Officer
and
Lieutenant Jason Barrett
Chief Operations Officer
and
<Basement Warehouse, 1947, Day 3>
Mason took a firm grab of the man's arms and hands in fear that he would react in the same manner as the woman did. For just a few seconds the man shook his head holding the left side of his neck. When he removed his hand Mason noticed a small but visiable black and blue mark. He turned to face the man after sitting him down seeing he was suprisingly calm.
"I am Commander Mason Hunt of the USS Malinche and this is Lieutenant Thundera. Are you alright?" asked Mason staring at the man closely hoping he would come to
The man just sat there in a somewhat of a dazed state and then taking a quick look at Mason then over to Thundera.
Cheetara locked eyes with the man. She was sensing something unknown at the moment. Then she turned and looked at the woman who started walking over.
"James. Are you ok? What's going on?" she asked him as she hugged him tightly.
"It's ok", Cheetara stated again trying to sooth the fear. "We are here to help you. But to help you, you need to help us understand what happened, and where we are."
The man gazed around the holographic room. Everything seemed fuzzy and distorted to him as if he was in another world. He tried very hard to bring up a moment of breath but instead he pointed to something on the fall wall underneath a table.
"Thundera, help me get them over there. Scan the atmosphere for anything that might be stopping their speech." said Mason dragging the man to his feet.
"Right Sir" Cheetara said tapping a few buttons on her tricorder and placing her right hand on the woman's shoulder to lead her over. After a few moments something popped up. "Sir, take a look at this!" she said turning the pad over for his eyes. "What would make a phasionic signature like that?"
Mason paused for a moment to have a look at the signature. "It could be a long rang inversion pulse from a portable generator or a strong focused emitter beam from a nearby ship." said Mason.
The XO looked around once more seeing that the holographic simulation was begining to fade out. He turned back to Thundera."We have got to get out of here. Can you reach further into his mind before we are torn to shreds." asked Mason.
Cheetara wondered how far she could use these emittions to further her telepathy. "I'm not really sure. But I'll give it a try." She stopped in her tracks and turned toward the man. She reached toward his face out of instinct.
"What are you doing?", the woman shrieked becoming scared as Cheetara tried what looked like a Vulcan mind meld. "Leave him be!"
Cheetara began to get flooded with images. Something wasn't right. They felt as if they were being treated like lab mice from a maze.
"Sir", Cheetara said releasing her grip from the man. "I'm starting to understand what's been going on and how they were able to communicate. It seems they were caught in a spacial anomily and got caught offgaurd. Then they crashed on this planet and were apparantly unconscious. When they awoke, they found themselves placed into this giant maze. It appears to be a form of amusement for whoever did it. But they have become trapped and can't find their way out. Not to mention they can't find any of the other crewmembers from their ship."
Being stunned by what he just heard also made him infuriated as to why a race such as the Dereidi would do something like this. One thing was for sure they needed to get out of there and fast.
"Alright, that just made me dislike this Dereidi even more. Lieutenant is if my readings are correct the signature is still strong and no doubt the Dereidi are unaware we are onto them. Could we some how use the signature to completly disappiate this program without killing us and them?"
"Actually Sir, I'm one step ahead of you." she answered. "I've been working on something already. By reversing the polarity of their signals, and counteracting the signatures from the phasionic charges, we should be able to completely shut this down without any reprocussions. However, there will be a 'slight' boom"
Cheetara snickered a little at the useage of slight and boom knowing that the Commander would pick up on the sarcasm as she tapped the buttons on the tricorder.
"And of course, our exit will be over there" she said pointing. "All I need is the order Sir. I've already finished the computations" she said as she finished tapping the buttons on the tricorder.
The simulation was closing in on them and Mason did not see any other choice and nodded. "Let her rip Lieutenant." said Mason forcing his head down as well as the man and the woman.
"Stand back." she said as she stood there and pressed the final buttons of the sequence.
The generator imploded as pieces of it scattered. The only thing that Cheetara wondered was if that would cause another explosion somewhere else. After all, there had to be a master mainframe somewhere.
"Sir, I suggest we get out of here quickly. We don't know if another explosion is going to occur" she said helping the woman up.
There was a double door just inches away from where they were, Mason could feel some rumbling under his feet as he was sure the others did as well. Pieces of one wall began to shutter and fall
"Ok no time like the present let's go." shouted Mason.
The group altogther charged towards the doors suprising to find it unlocked. With one final leap forward they landed on a rather warm carpeted floor with lights above their heads.
Is everyone alright? Lieutenant where are we?"
"We seem to still be below ground" Cheetara began. "But I can't tell how far down."
Cheetara looked around the room. There were 6 different colored and shaped doors. A Red Oval, a Orange Square, a Yellow Rectangle, a Green Hexagon, a Blue Pentagon, and a Purple Octagon. "I guess it's Eeny Miny Moe time", came some sarcasm she had read with her telepathic side. She just wasn't sure from whom she had read it from.
Jason had about had it with the holograms, doors and everything else. He was aware that this may have provided some sort of amusement to the Dereidi. He was tempted to take his phaser and simply blow out the doors, although he knew that wouldn't work...well more then likely it wouldn't work.
"Commentary: This speices appears to have a highly oddly developed sense of humor; even for meatbags."
Jason shot Zero (NPC) a look of annoyance.
"Anyone know where we are?" Rhone asked.
Jason looked down at his own tricorder, which wasn't showing him much of anything as of late. He sighed loudly, what he wouldn't give to being shot at right now at least they there was a clear target. All they had done so far was play along with thier game....maybe that was it. Jason was seething with anger. He leaned against the red door, thoughts of violence creeping through his mind...and then felt the door slide away, nearly dumping him on the ground. Everyone in the room turned to look at him.
"What did you do?" Hunt asked.
"Nothing....I was just angry....wait a second! What if these doors are emotionally color coded....red for anger. I was angry when I touched it; maybe that was where the rest of the crew went...they could have been sorted by thier various emotions," Jason said, getting back to his feet. "Look, red for anger that door we came in was...black...maybe the Dereidi placed these two in there cause they were knocked out, you know no emotion."
"Commentary: That would prove an odd way of sorting crew memebers, although give with what the Dereidi have done so far it would be logical to assume they would try something like this."
OFF: A JP By
Commander Mason Hunt
Excutive Officer
and
Lieutenant Jason Barrett
Chief Operations Officer
and
Last edited by Thundera on Thu Oct 05, 2006 10:53 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Lieutenant Cheetara Thundera
Chief Science Officer
USS Malinche NCC 38997-A
On:
<Basement Warehouse, 1947, Day 3>
Jason?s theory did have merit and seemed to be the only logical piece of reasoning they had for the moment. If these doors were in fact color coded by emotion that in itself would bring a new problem for them getting out alive.
This would mean each person on the team would have to watch and control what they thought since anything even the slightest wrong thought producing the wrong emotion could seal their fate.
Mason stared at the red door for a moment, somehow it was memorizing to his mind. He felt a sudden bump against his shoulder that brought him out of it.
?Well, let?s see what?s behind door number one. Jason you take the lead while me and Thundera take the rear with our new friends here following in the middle. I want no surprises ok. Let?s go.? Said Mason with an ounce of fear in voice.
Cautiously each walked threw the red door, it was traveling threw a canal at night. So dark and secluded. All of the darkness disappeared as they emerged from the door. The first thing they all noticed was a brightly lit room filled with flashing lights and walls with odd designs on them.
?Thundera anything? Asked Hunt helping her bring everyone in.
<Tag Thundera>
?How about you Rhone? Do you think these are some kind of communication relays or perhaps a sound wave generator?? asked Mason.
<Tag Rhone>
The XO moved over to a wall panel that had a design of earth and its moon surrounded by several other symbols that originated from earth. No sooner as he got even closer a loud hum from the ceiling began to play musical chimes ones that no one on the team had ever heard.
?More music eh. (Taking out his tricorder)what do you make of it Jason.? said Mason.
<Tag Barrett>
?Take some readings of the music and compare it to the readings from the red door and see if there is some sort connection.?
<Tag Barrett>
He waved the tricorder around and around it chirped a few times. The indicator was pointing to energy readings in the eastern most part of the room. Thundera followed behind Mason to see what is was the tricorder had picked up. She took off into another direction as did he.
As he got close to one of the wall panels, he moved the tricorder over it which caused it to vanished along with the surrounding panels.
?Ah, Thundera I think you should see this.? Said Mason.
<Tag Thundera>
They had discovered the sleeping bodies of two of the Sirion crew lying there in an unconscious state.
OFF: Tag Thundera, Barrett and Rhone.
Captain's Note: For reference, the NPC post I did establishing the Sirion NPC away team's names & personalities is here: http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/forum/vi ... ?p=887#887
<Basement Warehouse, 1947, Day 3>
Jason?s theory did have merit and seemed to be the only logical piece of reasoning they had for the moment. If these doors were in fact color coded by emotion that in itself would bring a new problem for them getting out alive.
This would mean each person on the team would have to watch and control what they thought since anything even the slightest wrong thought producing the wrong emotion could seal their fate.
Mason stared at the red door for a moment, somehow it was memorizing to his mind. He felt a sudden bump against his shoulder that brought him out of it.
?Well, let?s see what?s behind door number one. Jason you take the lead while me and Thundera take the rear with our new friends here following in the middle. I want no surprises ok. Let?s go.? Said Mason with an ounce of fear in voice.
Cautiously each walked threw the red door, it was traveling threw a canal at night. So dark and secluded. All of the darkness disappeared as they emerged from the door. The first thing they all noticed was a brightly lit room filled with flashing lights and walls with odd designs on them.
?Thundera anything? Asked Hunt helping her bring everyone in.
<Tag Thundera>
?How about you Rhone? Do you think these are some kind of communication relays or perhaps a sound wave generator?? asked Mason.
<Tag Rhone>
The XO moved over to a wall panel that had a design of earth and its moon surrounded by several other symbols that originated from earth. No sooner as he got even closer a loud hum from the ceiling began to play musical chimes ones that no one on the team had ever heard.
?More music eh. (Taking out his tricorder)what do you make of it Jason.? said Mason.
<Tag Barrett>
?Take some readings of the music and compare it to the readings from the red door and see if there is some sort connection.?
<Tag Barrett>
He waved the tricorder around and around it chirped a few times. The indicator was pointing to energy readings in the eastern most part of the room. Thundera followed behind Mason to see what is was the tricorder had picked up. She took off into another direction as did he.
As he got close to one of the wall panels, he moved the tricorder over it which caused it to vanished along with the surrounding panels.
?Ah, Thundera I think you should see this.? Said Mason.
<Tag Thundera>
They had discovered the sleeping bodies of two of the Sirion crew lying there in an unconscious state.
OFF: Tag Thundera, Barrett and Rhone.
Captain's Note: For reference, the NPC post I did establishing the Sirion NPC away team's names & personalities is here: http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/forum/vi ... ?p=887#887
Commander Mason Hunt
First Officer
USS Malinche NCC 38897-B
<<Bridge, USS Malinche, Day 3, 2117 hours>>
Yrel had already thought the first fifteen minutes of her taking the hot seat of the <i>Malinche</i> was tense enough, but this was much worse. No one on the bridge had said a thing since Yrel gave the orders to move out of orbit and head to the rescue of the damaged shuttle. Damage that had yet to be specified due the shuttles lost of communications. Of course, the ship had the shuttle on sensors, but that was far from determining what had happened.
<i>'This is why science seemed liked a so much more safer job than command,'</i> she thought, rolling her eyes. Going up against the Borg like this, with most of the senior staff ashore and her with little command experience for a threat as monstrous as the all-adapting, all-assimilating Borg, was not doing wonders for her mental health. <i>'Why is that the best place to assign counsillors is that last placew they actually assign them to?'</i>
"Ma'am, the shuttle's within visual range," came Tamlin, breaking the deft silence that had clouded over the bridge...aside from the blaring red allert klaxons.
"On screen," Yrel ordered quickly, getting up from her seat and taking steps towards the large display screen. The image of starry space was replaced with the enlarged image of the shuttlecraft, Type-9, coming in at a very slow pace...not even one-eigth impulse. The entire dorsal side looked to be the source of the unknown damage. The surface of that side of the shuttle was covered in small black marks, roughly circular in shape, reaching from far aft to just near the forward viewport. Other damage was the port nacelle, which appeared non-function by the lack of any glowing red or blue colour. "What can we determine from here?"
"Not much," Summers, at opts, replied. "It could be anything right now.
Yrel rolled that around for a couple seconds and nodded.
"Brings us closer to the shuttle, and when we're thrity kilometers from it, being us about and open the shuttlebay doors. Have emergency personnel ready to treat the shuttle's crew," she said. The bridge crew nodded and continued to work.
"Facing away from the Borg vessel is not very good tactics, ma'am," Morris shot in as the ship approached the limping shuttle and made a fast pivot to have the shuttlebay right in the path of the shuttle.
"This is a fast ship, Ensign," Yrel looked over at the officer. "By the time the ship moves a centimeter towards us, we can turn around and be ready."
Morris didn't reply, and instead went back to the console and kept a steady weapons readiness for the possiblity of fighting the borg.
<i>'What was that about?'</i> she thought. <i>'The last thing I need is officers questioning my descisions right now...I'm loopy as it is...'</i>
Yrel had already thought the first fifteen minutes of her taking the hot seat of the <i>Malinche</i> was tense enough, but this was much worse. No one on the bridge had said a thing since Yrel gave the orders to move out of orbit and head to the rescue of the damaged shuttle. Damage that had yet to be specified due the shuttles lost of communications. Of course, the ship had the shuttle on sensors, but that was far from determining what had happened.
<i>'This is why science seemed liked a so much more safer job than command,'</i> she thought, rolling her eyes. Going up against the Borg like this, with most of the senior staff ashore and her with little command experience for a threat as monstrous as the all-adapting, all-assimilating Borg, was not doing wonders for her mental health. <i>'Why is that the best place to assign counsillors is that last placew they actually assign them to?'</i>
"Ma'am, the shuttle's within visual range," came Tamlin, breaking the deft silence that had clouded over the bridge...aside from the blaring red allert klaxons.
"On screen," Yrel ordered quickly, getting up from her seat and taking steps towards the large display screen. The image of starry space was replaced with the enlarged image of the shuttlecraft, Type-9, coming in at a very slow pace...not even one-eigth impulse. The entire dorsal side looked to be the source of the unknown damage. The surface of that side of the shuttle was covered in small black marks, roughly circular in shape, reaching from far aft to just near the forward viewport. Other damage was the port nacelle, which appeared non-function by the lack of any glowing red or blue colour. "What can we determine from here?"
"Not much," Summers, at opts, replied. "It could be anything right now.
Yrel rolled that around for a couple seconds and nodded.
"Brings us closer to the shuttle, and when we're thrity kilometers from it, being us about and open the shuttlebay doors. Have emergency personnel ready to treat the shuttle's crew," she said. The bridge crew nodded and continued to work.
"Facing away from the Borg vessel is not very good tactics, ma'am," Morris shot in as the ship approached the limping shuttle and made a fast pivot to have the shuttlebay right in the path of the shuttle.
"This is a fast ship, Ensign," Yrel looked over at the officer. "By the time the ship moves a centimeter towards us, we can turn around and be ready."
Morris didn't reply, and instead went back to the console and kept a steady weapons readiness for the possiblity of fighting the borg.
<i>'What was that about?'</i> she thought. <i>'The last thing I need is officers questioning my descisions right now...I'm loopy as it is...'</i>
Last edited by Sovereign on Fri Sep 29, 2006 5:51 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Lieutenant Yrel Sovereign
Chief Science Officer & Second Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
<Basement Warehouse, 1947, Day 3>
?More music eh, what do you make of it Jason.? said Mason.
"Besides a constant source of annoyance...nothing it just appears to be music, although I can't really place who or what is playing it."
?Take some readings of the music and compare it to the readings from the red door and see if there is some sort connection.?
Jason nodded and started scanning. He doubted that there would be any sort of connection; the music happened to be nothing more then annoyance. Then again maybe that was the whole point of the music anyway, to simply annoy them all. After scanning the door and surrounding areas he couldn't find anything that connected it to the music...other then the fact that they were both highly unsual.
"Comment: I do believe I am detecting lifesigns behind this wall."
Jason turned and looked to where Zero (NPC) was pointing.
Jason scanned the area, finding nothing. "I think your sensors might be slighlty off Zero."
"Commentary: My sensors are not off meatbag. Although it appears this panel is made of an alloy that is extremely durable."
"Doesn't help me much...I wonder if."
Jason looked down at his tricorder and tapped a few buttons. He locked in the signal frequency.
"Zero, can you retune your vocol processors to this frequency and double the powet output."
"Answer: Of course I can, although I fail to see what that will accomplish."
"Just try it for me."
Seconds later Zero emitted one high powered screech that was about 20 seconds in length. The panel that Jason had been standing next to dissolved away as well, dropping two bodies to the deck.
"My, will wonders never cease."
OFF:
?More music eh, what do you make of it Jason.? said Mason.
"Besides a constant source of annoyance...nothing it just appears to be music, although I can't really place who or what is playing it."
?Take some readings of the music and compare it to the readings from the red door and see if there is some sort connection.?
Jason nodded and started scanning. He doubted that there would be any sort of connection; the music happened to be nothing more then annoyance. Then again maybe that was the whole point of the music anyway, to simply annoy them all. After scanning the door and surrounding areas he couldn't find anything that connected it to the music...other then the fact that they were both highly unsual.
"Comment: I do believe I am detecting lifesigns behind this wall."
Jason turned and looked to where Zero (NPC) was pointing.
Jason scanned the area, finding nothing. "I think your sensors might be slighlty off Zero."
"Commentary: My sensors are not off meatbag. Although it appears this panel is made of an alloy that is extremely durable."
"Doesn't help me much...I wonder if."
Jason looked down at his tricorder and tapped a few buttons. He locked in the signal frequency.
"Zero, can you retune your vocol processors to this frequency and double the powet output."
"Answer: Of course I can, although I fail to see what that will accomplish."
"Just try it for me."
Seconds later Zero emitted one high powered screech that was about 20 seconds in length. The panel that Jason had been standing next to dissolved away as well, dropping two bodies to the deck.
"My, will wonders never cease."
OFF:
Last edited by Barrett on Sun Oct 01, 2006 1:09 am, edited 1 time in total.
Lieutenant Commander Jason Barrett
Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
<< Shuttle Stockholm, On route to the Malinche, Day 3, 2119 hours>>
Dana sighed and stretched her long legs out in front of her. The journey was tedious and she was beginning to get stiff. She looked around for the umpteenth time, and smile at the woman next to her.
?I always find this the worst part of any new assignment.? She smiled pleasantly, ?Not enough leg room, and you?re half scared to move in case you jolt the person in front of you.? she said as a way to start a conversation.
Maria smiled, "Some shuttles are smaller than others. You certainly don't need to worry about jolting me, though. You've not felt a jolt till you take a Klingon to his new assignment." Laughing heartily, the woman tapped a few controls on the shuttle, putting it back in auto mode.
Dana grinned at her, ?I can imagine that must be a jolt you would remember.? She mused, ?Dana Palentis.? She offered holding out a hand.
Nodding, Maria shook the offered hand, "Maria Zantaros. So you're looking forward to your new assignment?"
Dana shook the woman?s hand, and chuckled, ?I?ll let you know when I have settled down and met the crew. I always find the first few days of a new posting can be extremely trying.? She sighed, rolling her eyes.
?It always takes a little while for a crew to get used to you as it does you to get used to them.? She told her, ?Of course then there is the issue of me being a Counsellor.? She made a face, ?As soon as I mention that its as if I have grown another head.? She grinned, shaking her head slightly.
"Ah, a counsellor," Maria smiled knowingly. "Many are simply not comfortable sharing their innermost thoughts with a 'stranger'. Others are afraid that a counsellor will find something wrong with them. I don't generally mind speaking with counsellors, though at first it can be awkward," she admitted.
Smiling Dana looked at her, ?I tend to work differently, I believe that if a person has a problem, they should be comfortable to share it. It is no good force someone to share a memory if they do not wish too. I will listen to anyone, but it is up to the individual to want to help themselves.? She said, ?But I am not working at present. It is refreshing to simply be nobody.? She smiled warmly, ?And if I make no sense at do, don?t worry. I sometimes have trouble understanding myself.? She chuckled.
Maria's chocolate eyes sparkled, "I know exactly what you mean, amiga. Do you know anything about the ship you're going to, or any of the officers or those in your department?"
Dana sighed, ?Unfortunately, no. I have briefly read over their personal and psychological files, but no more than the basics really. Besides I like to form my own opinion of people.? She smiled, ?I try not to be influenced by what I read or hear.?
"A wise choice," Maria noted. "Much more can lay behind the surface of a person than is immediately seen. What was your last assignment like?"
?Very nice. I had a very enjoyable few years there, but I began to feel I needed a change. I needed something more challenging.? She admitted, ?I like to stay fresh, new people, new problems.? She told her, looking away slowly. ?A new ship to stamp my mark on.? She said quietly.
Maria watched the young woman quietly for a moment, wondering what Dana was thinking. Perhaps a difficult situation on her last ship? Or just some internal conflict? "I'm sure the Malinche will be challenging; a rather large pool of potential people and problems," she offered.
Dana smiled, ?It will be very interesting. I am looking forward to getting to know everyone on the ship, that?s an exciting time.? She told her, ?I like to get to know people before we have any sessions. It helps to relax them, and me.? She admitted with a brief giggle.
"Yes, it is interesting to get to know the personalities you'll be working with," Maria grinned. "I would imagine the sessions would be easier with both parties relaxed."
?Oh it makes things much easier, and people tend to open up more in a situation they are happy in. I have always had a knack at making folks relax and feel comfortable.? She chuckled slightly, ?Even in school I was the one all the children would come and chat too. At six I was helping friends out with problems.? She told Maria, smiling gently.
Maria returned the smile, "I guess that answers why you became a Counsellor. It's a good trait to have, no matter what, but especially useful for a Counsellor or Doctor, I would imagine."
Dana smiled, ?It is, very useful.? She replied, leaning back in her seat, ?How much longer I wonder, I am anxious to get there now.? She said with a sigh.
Smiling, Maria looked over at Dana - she was probably anxious to get off the shuttle and begin her new assignment, "Actually, we should be there in about five or ten minutes. The USS Berlin wasn't that far from the Malinche's position when we left, which is nice. My trip back will be a little longer though."
Dana looked at her, arching an eyebrow, ?How come?? She asked her.
"The Berlin was making her way to Starbase 122, albeit slowly. I'll be rendezvousing with them there," Maria replied. "I don't mind really, I enjoy flying."
?That?s good. It is important to be happy in what you do.? Dana said quietly, ?I guess I had best get my things together, I don?t want to forget anything and believe me, I can be very forgetful at times.? She smiled, shaking her head at herself.
Maria nodded, allowing Dana to gather her things. Smiling to herself, Maria sat down and took the shuttle out of auto, though it would soon return to it for docking. She still enjoyed piloting the shuttle herself, if only for a little while.
Into her view came the USS Malinche, from her point it still looked somewhat small, but she knew it would get larger as they flew closer. Maria was a little bewildered at the signs of damage, not seeing any ships in the vicinity, but shrugged it off - the ship could've left already, after all, and the ship was still there. "Dana, here's your new ship!"
Dana looked out the view port and smiled, she had always had a soft for the Prometheus. She watched it as they approached and smiled, ?What a ship? She said, ?Looks like she?s had a bit of a battering mind you.? She admitted, a frown creasing her brows.
"It is a warship," Maria reminded her. "It's bound to have some battle damage. Hmm...it looks like it's moving away." Checking her sensors, Maria guessed why, "Looks like there's another shuttle with some damage that they're picking up. This could be interesting."
Dana edged forward, watching the ship as it moved slowly off. She sat riveted, wondering what was going on. ?I wonder what?s been going on?? She said, her voice quiet.
"I don't know... Your job might've just gotten more interesting. I'll hail the shuttlebay," Maria said. "Lieutenant JG Maria Zantaros to USS Malinche Shuttlebay."
"This is Warrant Officer Folen, what can we do for you Shuttle Stockholm?"
"I have a crewmember for you; requesting permission to come aboard," Maria replied.
"Negative Stockholm, we're rescuing a shuttle of our own and the shuttlebay's full. We'll transport her aboard," Lirad responded.
"Aye aye." Maria turned to Dana, "Looks like we won't be going in after all."
Dana nodded, wondering what was awaiting her on board the Malinche. ?Well, thanks for the ride Marie, looks like I?m going to be busy here.? She said, smiling gently.
Maria smiled back, "Good luck Dana."
Dana smiled at Maria and tapped her commbadge, =/\=Ensign Palentis to the Malinche, one to beam aboard.=/\= She asked and smiled as the familiar tingle spread through her as the transporter beam enfolded her in its blue sparkle and next thing she was standing on the main padd of the Malinche.
?Permission to come aboard Chief?? She asked the transporter Chief.
?Permission granted Ensign, welcome to the Malinche.? He said with a smile and Dana nodded her head to him, stepping off the padd and heading to her new quarters. Then she would go and see who she should report into.
OFF: A joint post between:
NPC Lt. JG Maria Zantaros
played by our dear CO. (Thanks Boss)
and
Dana sighed and stretched her long legs out in front of her. The journey was tedious and she was beginning to get stiff. She looked around for the umpteenth time, and smile at the woman next to her.
?I always find this the worst part of any new assignment.? She smiled pleasantly, ?Not enough leg room, and you?re half scared to move in case you jolt the person in front of you.? she said as a way to start a conversation.
Maria smiled, "Some shuttles are smaller than others. You certainly don't need to worry about jolting me, though. You've not felt a jolt till you take a Klingon to his new assignment." Laughing heartily, the woman tapped a few controls on the shuttle, putting it back in auto mode.
Dana grinned at her, ?I can imagine that must be a jolt you would remember.? She mused, ?Dana Palentis.? She offered holding out a hand.
Nodding, Maria shook the offered hand, "Maria Zantaros. So you're looking forward to your new assignment?"
Dana shook the woman?s hand, and chuckled, ?I?ll let you know when I have settled down and met the crew. I always find the first few days of a new posting can be extremely trying.? She sighed, rolling her eyes.
?It always takes a little while for a crew to get used to you as it does you to get used to them.? She told her, ?Of course then there is the issue of me being a Counsellor.? She made a face, ?As soon as I mention that its as if I have grown another head.? She grinned, shaking her head slightly.
"Ah, a counsellor," Maria smiled knowingly. "Many are simply not comfortable sharing their innermost thoughts with a 'stranger'. Others are afraid that a counsellor will find something wrong with them. I don't generally mind speaking with counsellors, though at first it can be awkward," she admitted.
Smiling Dana looked at her, ?I tend to work differently, I believe that if a person has a problem, they should be comfortable to share it. It is no good force someone to share a memory if they do not wish too. I will listen to anyone, but it is up to the individual to want to help themselves.? She said, ?But I am not working at present. It is refreshing to simply be nobody.? She smiled warmly, ?And if I make no sense at do, don?t worry. I sometimes have trouble understanding myself.? She chuckled.
Maria's chocolate eyes sparkled, "I know exactly what you mean, amiga. Do you know anything about the ship you're going to, or any of the officers or those in your department?"
Dana sighed, ?Unfortunately, no. I have briefly read over their personal and psychological files, but no more than the basics really. Besides I like to form my own opinion of people.? She smiled, ?I try not to be influenced by what I read or hear.?
"A wise choice," Maria noted. "Much more can lay behind the surface of a person than is immediately seen. What was your last assignment like?"
?Very nice. I had a very enjoyable few years there, but I began to feel I needed a change. I needed something more challenging.? She admitted, ?I like to stay fresh, new people, new problems.? She told her, looking away slowly. ?A new ship to stamp my mark on.? She said quietly.
Maria watched the young woman quietly for a moment, wondering what Dana was thinking. Perhaps a difficult situation on her last ship? Or just some internal conflict? "I'm sure the Malinche will be challenging; a rather large pool of potential people and problems," she offered.
Dana smiled, ?It will be very interesting. I am looking forward to getting to know everyone on the ship, that?s an exciting time.? She told her, ?I like to get to know people before we have any sessions. It helps to relax them, and me.? She admitted with a brief giggle.
"Yes, it is interesting to get to know the personalities you'll be working with," Maria grinned. "I would imagine the sessions would be easier with both parties relaxed."
?Oh it makes things much easier, and people tend to open up more in a situation they are happy in. I have always had a knack at making folks relax and feel comfortable.? She chuckled slightly, ?Even in school I was the one all the children would come and chat too. At six I was helping friends out with problems.? She told Maria, smiling gently.
Maria returned the smile, "I guess that answers why you became a Counsellor. It's a good trait to have, no matter what, but especially useful for a Counsellor or Doctor, I would imagine."
Dana smiled, ?It is, very useful.? She replied, leaning back in her seat, ?How much longer I wonder, I am anxious to get there now.? She said with a sigh.
Smiling, Maria looked over at Dana - she was probably anxious to get off the shuttle and begin her new assignment, "Actually, we should be there in about five or ten minutes. The USS Berlin wasn't that far from the Malinche's position when we left, which is nice. My trip back will be a little longer though."
Dana looked at her, arching an eyebrow, ?How come?? She asked her.
"The Berlin was making her way to Starbase 122, albeit slowly. I'll be rendezvousing with them there," Maria replied. "I don't mind really, I enjoy flying."
?That?s good. It is important to be happy in what you do.? Dana said quietly, ?I guess I had best get my things together, I don?t want to forget anything and believe me, I can be very forgetful at times.? She smiled, shaking her head at herself.
Maria nodded, allowing Dana to gather her things. Smiling to herself, Maria sat down and took the shuttle out of auto, though it would soon return to it for docking. She still enjoyed piloting the shuttle herself, if only for a little while.
Into her view came the USS Malinche, from her point it still looked somewhat small, but she knew it would get larger as they flew closer. Maria was a little bewildered at the signs of damage, not seeing any ships in the vicinity, but shrugged it off - the ship could've left already, after all, and the ship was still there. "Dana, here's your new ship!"
Dana looked out the view port and smiled, she had always had a soft for the Prometheus. She watched it as they approached and smiled, ?What a ship? She said, ?Looks like she?s had a bit of a battering mind you.? She admitted, a frown creasing her brows.
"It is a warship," Maria reminded her. "It's bound to have some battle damage. Hmm...it looks like it's moving away." Checking her sensors, Maria guessed why, "Looks like there's another shuttle with some damage that they're picking up. This could be interesting."
Dana edged forward, watching the ship as it moved slowly off. She sat riveted, wondering what was going on. ?I wonder what?s been going on?? She said, her voice quiet.
"I don't know... Your job might've just gotten more interesting. I'll hail the shuttlebay," Maria said. "Lieutenant JG Maria Zantaros to USS Malinche Shuttlebay."
"This is Warrant Officer Folen, what can we do for you Shuttle Stockholm?"
"I have a crewmember for you; requesting permission to come aboard," Maria replied.
"Negative Stockholm, we're rescuing a shuttle of our own and the shuttlebay's full. We'll transport her aboard," Lirad responded.
"Aye aye." Maria turned to Dana, "Looks like we won't be going in after all."
Dana nodded, wondering what was awaiting her on board the Malinche. ?Well, thanks for the ride Marie, looks like I?m going to be busy here.? She said, smiling gently.
Maria smiled back, "Good luck Dana."
Dana smiled at Maria and tapped her commbadge, =/\=Ensign Palentis to the Malinche, one to beam aboard.=/\= She asked and smiled as the familiar tingle spread through her as the transporter beam enfolded her in its blue sparkle and next thing she was standing on the main padd of the Malinche.
?Permission to come aboard Chief?? She asked the transporter Chief.
?Permission granted Ensign, welcome to the Malinche.? He said with a smile and Dana nodded her head to him, stepping off the padd and heading to her new quarters. Then she would go and see who she should report into.
OFF: A joint post between:
NPC Lt. JG Maria Zantaros
played by our dear CO. (Thanks Boss)
and
<img src="http://ussmalinche.kersare.net/images/bens.jpg">
Ensign Dana Palentis
Chief Counsellor
USS Malinche
Ensign Dana Palentis
Chief Counsellor
USS Malinche
<<Bridge, USS Malinche, Day 3, 2123>>
The shuttle was slowly making its way into the open shuttlebay. Everything seemed to be going alright now...within the diseaster of a situation this was anyways. She took a deep breath and waited as opts worked more on an analysis of the damage to the shuttle to determine the cause. If it was indeed the Borg, they were all in big trouble.
It'd be hard to contain one of two things, maybe both, from the crew. Either they'd: want retaliation, in which Yrel was in way over her head; or they'd be too mentally broken to continue functioning as an effective crew. Neither really went in Yrel's favour, so she hoped that whatever was going on was something not related to the Borg.
<i>'If not them, then what? That leaves something else out there to worry about, girl,'</i> she thought.
After dropping her bags of in her quarters quickly, Dana headed to the bridge, it was the best place to report in, after that she would go to sickbay, hopefully find the CMO and then head to her office. After the journey out, she was ready to begin work. She stepped out of the turbolift, and looked around the bridge, wondering who was in charge.
She approached a teal trimmed Lieutenant and smiled, "Ensign Dana Palentis reporting in Lieutenant, I'm the new Counsellor." She offfered, looking around with wide eyes.
<i>'More new crewmembers? Why can't the <b>Malinche</b> ever be informed of these things?'</i> Yrel thought a bit wryly and then thought of her own entrance onto the warship. Who was she to talk, eh?
"Well, Ensign Palentis, welcome aboard," Yrel smiled back at the woman and offered her a hand. After shaking, Yrel motioned to the tense emotional state of the bridge. "We have a bit of a situation going on. It'd be best if we discus this in the Ready Room."
Dana nodded, "Certianly Lieutenant, it looks as if I arrived in the middle of something serious." She said, following her towards the ready room, once more scanning the bridge with her eyes.
Yrel entered in and headed for the Captain's chair once again, thinking of herself a bit cocky again for assuming the right to sit in a chair that she was three promotions short of being legitimatly able to sit in.
"Well," she took a breath. "We have a very serious issue going on. The Malinche's original mission was to come her to determine waht happened to the USS Sirion and it's crew. Things haven't been going so smoothly, though. Most of the senior staff is off ship now," she paused to indicate her colour of uniform for emphasis, "and most of them are no longer reachable by the ship."
"More so," she took another breath. "We may have an even bigger problem than that...something that might make good use of your role on the ship." she stared at the officer sternly. "The Borg."
Dana felt the blood drain from her face. "The Borg." She said, feeling a tough knot of fear grip her insides. "Well I will give you any help I can, but I'm not sure what that may be." She offered, feeling decidely useless in this present situation.
"Actually, a cousellor is what we need most right now," Yrel looked away for a moment. "The crew's morale is dropping fast, and we need a support officer to keep the ship running and not falling to pieces."
Dana smiled, "well I can certialy do that for you." She said, "I'll be where ever you think I am needed." She told her, placing herself in her hands.
"Best to be going between engineering and the bridge. Some of these officers have been pulling long shifts after the ship sustained damage, and others are just getting worn down after some other events that have been going on." Yrel stood up. "Good luck, Ensign, you have you're work cut out for you."
Dana smield, "Well, in at the deep end I guess Lieutenant." She smiled, "I'll head to engineering first." She said, quickly leaving the ready rooma dn heading to the turbolift.
Yrel took a deep breath, waited about a minute and returned to her command of the <i>Malinche</i>.
JP by
Ensign Dana Palentis
Cheif Counsellor
USS Malinche
and...
The shuttle was slowly making its way into the open shuttlebay. Everything seemed to be going alright now...within the diseaster of a situation this was anyways. She took a deep breath and waited as opts worked more on an analysis of the damage to the shuttle to determine the cause. If it was indeed the Borg, they were all in big trouble.
It'd be hard to contain one of two things, maybe both, from the crew. Either they'd: want retaliation, in which Yrel was in way over her head; or they'd be too mentally broken to continue functioning as an effective crew. Neither really went in Yrel's favour, so she hoped that whatever was going on was something not related to the Borg.
<i>'If not them, then what? That leaves something else out there to worry about, girl,'</i> she thought.
After dropping her bags of in her quarters quickly, Dana headed to the bridge, it was the best place to report in, after that she would go to sickbay, hopefully find the CMO and then head to her office. After the journey out, she was ready to begin work. She stepped out of the turbolift, and looked around the bridge, wondering who was in charge.
She approached a teal trimmed Lieutenant and smiled, "Ensign Dana Palentis reporting in Lieutenant, I'm the new Counsellor." She offfered, looking around with wide eyes.
<i>'More new crewmembers? Why can't the <b>Malinche</b> ever be informed of these things?'</i> Yrel thought a bit wryly and then thought of her own entrance onto the warship. Who was she to talk, eh?
"Well, Ensign Palentis, welcome aboard," Yrel smiled back at the woman and offered her a hand. After shaking, Yrel motioned to the tense emotional state of the bridge. "We have a bit of a situation going on. It'd be best if we discus this in the Ready Room."
Dana nodded, "Certianly Lieutenant, it looks as if I arrived in the middle of something serious." She said, following her towards the ready room, once more scanning the bridge with her eyes.
Yrel entered in and headed for the Captain's chair once again, thinking of herself a bit cocky again for assuming the right to sit in a chair that she was three promotions short of being legitimatly able to sit in.
"Well," she took a breath. "We have a very serious issue going on. The Malinche's original mission was to come her to determine waht happened to the USS Sirion and it's crew. Things haven't been going so smoothly, though. Most of the senior staff is off ship now," she paused to indicate her colour of uniform for emphasis, "and most of them are no longer reachable by the ship."
"More so," she took another breath. "We may have an even bigger problem than that...something that might make good use of your role on the ship." she stared at the officer sternly. "The Borg."
Dana felt the blood drain from her face. "The Borg." She said, feeling a tough knot of fear grip her insides. "Well I will give you any help I can, but I'm not sure what that may be." She offered, feeling decidely useless in this present situation.
"Actually, a cousellor is what we need most right now," Yrel looked away for a moment. "The crew's morale is dropping fast, and we need a support officer to keep the ship running and not falling to pieces."
Dana smiled, "well I can certialy do that for you." She said, "I'll be where ever you think I am needed." She told her, placing herself in her hands.
"Best to be going between engineering and the bridge. Some of these officers have been pulling long shifts after the ship sustained damage, and others are just getting worn down after some other events that have been going on." Yrel stood up. "Good luck, Ensign, you have you're work cut out for you."
Dana smield, "Well, in at the deep end I guess Lieutenant." She smiled, "I'll head to engineering first." She said, quickly leaving the ready rooma dn heading to the turbolift.
Yrel took a deep breath, waited about a minute and returned to her command of the <i>Malinche</i>.
JP by
Ensign Dana Palentis
Cheif Counsellor
USS Malinche
and...
Lieutenant Yrel Sovereign
Chief Science Officer & Second Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
<<Direidi Courtroom, 2045, Day 3>>
Isabel was waiting anxiously to hear whether or not Todd had been able to hold on for the required eight seconds. It was very tense, but became tenser as she had the feeling someone was very close to her. Turning around, she saw a man in StarFleet Uniform... He must be from her ship, but she didn't recognize the man.
Byan walked up to a woman in a starfleet uniform, wearing command red, a woman with an air of Authority.
"Excuse me, are you Captain Kersare?"
"Yes, I'm Captain Kersare. My apologies, but I don't recognize you Chief," she replied.
"Chief Petty Officer Byan Telayr-Harkin reporting for duty, Ma'am." Byan said in a practiced gruff voice as he snapped to attention.
She nodded, "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Telayr-Harkin, and welcome aboard. My apologies, but I had no notice that you would be joining us. As you can see, we're in the middle of a trial here. Have you been brought up to speed as to our current situation?"
He stifled a small grim laugh at that.
"Er, No Ma'am. Lieutenant Jaran didn't get much of a...chance to discuss the mission with me. He was more interested in getting me on the er..surface." He said, unable to help a small grin appearing on his face.
Isabel quirked an eyebrow. "I see. Apologies again, but what position have you been assigned to? And what kind of experience do you have?" One of these days, StarFleet would actually tell her in advance of new crewmembers. Right now, she was trying to decide exactly what to have Byan do, depending on his experience. Part of her thought it might be a good idea to send him after Mason and his team, another thought he might come in handy at the trial.
"I'm sorry Ma'am I didn't realise that Command had not sent my record on to you. I'm your new Chief Of The Boat. I've been in Starfleet for about 33 years now. I have experiance in Security and Intelligence. A full list of my previous assignments is available on my record."
She nodded, "The gist of our mission, Chief, is that the USS Sirion has gone missing, as has the five member survey team sent to this planet. We have since discovered that the Sirion was apparently fired on by the Borg. A few of my officers are on the Malinche, keeping track of a Borg Sphere they spotted. Myself, Mr. Grayson, and Mr. Peters are in this courtroom, as the Direidi have put them on trial for bank robbery. My Executive Officer and his team went looking for the missing Sirion survey team and have not been able to be contacted."
Letting this sink in a moment, Isabel continued, "I'm not sure how much you know about the Direidi, but they are human, and are harmless. They're Federation members, in fact. In the past, and still, the Direidi have been known to enjoy...creativity. When the original Enterprise was here about a century ago, the Direidi had something of an all encompassing play written to interact with those who had come to their planet, which the Enterprise crew unknowingly was participating in. They have not hurt any of us, and I feel this trial is another one of their performances, so to speak."
She waited to hear his response before making her final decision as to where to send her new Chief of the Boat.
"A bank robbery, Ma'am?" Byan immediatly began wondering what kind of ship Kersare was running here. "I'm going to assume that this is another of the Direidi's game." At least he hoped that was the case. Whilst Byan may not have the cleanest of pasts, he was Enlisted, not Commisioned. If the two officers were indeed convicted the reprecussions could be immence. This, however, was not his concern. Byan learnt earlier on in his career to know his place and stick to it. There was nothing much he could do here. He had been in court before, but that had turned out badly for him, at least that is what he thought at the time. "What are your orders, Ma'am? I can either stay here in the court and offer you the fruits of what little experiance I have in this sector or I can attempt to find your Executive Officer, Commander Hunt?"
"Yes, another part of the Direidi's game. I know that Grayson and Peters wouldn't have done such a thing, not to mention...well, I won't bore you with the details," Isabe replied. "As you have experience in Security and Intelligence, I feel it would be more suited to your abilities to try to find Commander Hunt and his team. If you discover anything, please let either myself or Lieutenant Sovereign on the Malinche know. If you find them, unharmed, please help them continue looking for the missing Sirion crewmembers, if they haven't found them already."
"Aye, Captain. I'll begin looking right away."
"Very good, Chief. Good luck," Isabel said, with a slight encouraging smile on her face. Once Byan turned and headed out of the Direidi courtroom, Isabel headed back in to find out the results of Todd's challenge.
As he walked away Byan had the distinct feeling that finding the missing team was going to be a lot easier said than done, but that was just the way he liked it.
OFF: JP brought to you by:
Chief Petty Officer Byan Telayr-Harkin
Chief of the Boat
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
and
Isabel was waiting anxiously to hear whether or not Todd had been able to hold on for the required eight seconds. It was very tense, but became tenser as she had the feeling someone was very close to her. Turning around, she saw a man in StarFleet Uniform... He must be from her ship, but she didn't recognize the man.
Byan walked up to a woman in a starfleet uniform, wearing command red, a woman with an air of Authority.
"Excuse me, are you Captain Kersare?"
"Yes, I'm Captain Kersare. My apologies, but I don't recognize you Chief," she replied.
"Chief Petty Officer Byan Telayr-Harkin reporting for duty, Ma'am." Byan said in a practiced gruff voice as he snapped to attention.
She nodded, "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Telayr-Harkin, and welcome aboard. My apologies, but I had no notice that you would be joining us. As you can see, we're in the middle of a trial here. Have you been brought up to speed as to our current situation?"
He stifled a small grim laugh at that.
"Er, No Ma'am. Lieutenant Jaran didn't get much of a...chance to discuss the mission with me. He was more interested in getting me on the er..surface." He said, unable to help a small grin appearing on his face.
Isabel quirked an eyebrow. "I see. Apologies again, but what position have you been assigned to? And what kind of experience do you have?" One of these days, StarFleet would actually tell her in advance of new crewmembers. Right now, she was trying to decide exactly what to have Byan do, depending on his experience. Part of her thought it might be a good idea to send him after Mason and his team, another thought he might come in handy at the trial.
"I'm sorry Ma'am I didn't realise that Command had not sent my record on to you. I'm your new Chief Of The Boat. I've been in Starfleet for about 33 years now. I have experiance in Security and Intelligence. A full list of my previous assignments is available on my record."
She nodded, "The gist of our mission, Chief, is that the USS Sirion has gone missing, as has the five member survey team sent to this planet. We have since discovered that the Sirion was apparently fired on by the Borg. A few of my officers are on the Malinche, keeping track of a Borg Sphere they spotted. Myself, Mr. Grayson, and Mr. Peters are in this courtroom, as the Direidi have put them on trial for bank robbery. My Executive Officer and his team went looking for the missing Sirion survey team and have not been able to be contacted."
Letting this sink in a moment, Isabel continued, "I'm not sure how much you know about the Direidi, but they are human, and are harmless. They're Federation members, in fact. In the past, and still, the Direidi have been known to enjoy...creativity. When the original Enterprise was here about a century ago, the Direidi had something of an all encompassing play written to interact with those who had come to their planet, which the Enterprise crew unknowingly was participating in. They have not hurt any of us, and I feel this trial is another one of their performances, so to speak."
She waited to hear his response before making her final decision as to where to send her new Chief of the Boat.
"A bank robbery, Ma'am?" Byan immediatly began wondering what kind of ship Kersare was running here. "I'm going to assume that this is another of the Direidi's game." At least he hoped that was the case. Whilst Byan may not have the cleanest of pasts, he was Enlisted, not Commisioned. If the two officers were indeed convicted the reprecussions could be immence. This, however, was not his concern. Byan learnt earlier on in his career to know his place and stick to it. There was nothing much he could do here. He had been in court before, but that had turned out badly for him, at least that is what he thought at the time. "What are your orders, Ma'am? I can either stay here in the court and offer you the fruits of what little experiance I have in this sector or I can attempt to find your Executive Officer, Commander Hunt?"
"Yes, another part of the Direidi's game. I know that Grayson and Peters wouldn't have done such a thing, not to mention...well, I won't bore you with the details," Isabe replied. "As you have experience in Security and Intelligence, I feel it would be more suited to your abilities to try to find Commander Hunt and his team. If you discover anything, please let either myself or Lieutenant Sovereign on the Malinche know. If you find them, unharmed, please help them continue looking for the missing Sirion crewmembers, if they haven't found them already."
"Aye, Captain. I'll begin looking right away."
"Very good, Chief. Good luck," Isabel said, with a slight encouraging smile on her face. Once Byan turned and headed out of the Direidi courtroom, Isabel headed back in to find out the results of Todd's challenge.
As he walked away Byan had the distinct feeling that finding the missing team was going to be a lot easier said than done, but that was just the way he liked it.
OFF: JP brought to you by:
Chief Petty Officer Byan Telayr-Harkin
Chief of the Boat
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
and
Last edited by Kersare on Mon Oct 02, 2006 8:07 am, edited 1 time in total.
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
-
Peters
- Senior Staff
- Posts: 202
- Joined: Mon Mar 20, 2006 2:17 pm
- Location: Space, the final frontier...
- Contact:
<<Direidi Courtroom, 2052, Day 3>>
Isabel returned to the defense table quickly after talking with Byan. Part of her hadn't wanted to leave, especially considering they'd been waiting to see if Todd had stayed on the horse long enough, but duty called. Truth be told, she felt like she needed a few clones of herself to accomplish everything. Though even the thought of Borg made her stomach turn, and drudged up her memories of Derek, she partially wanted to be on the Malinche, seeing things through.
She mentally shook her head; no sense in second guessing herself now. Being here was just as important. Isabel turned to Mark and Todd, with a slightly disapproving look at the lawyer, "Well, what was the decision? Did he stay on the full eight seconds?"
"Well, it appears that Peters here could drop engineering and start riding wild animals for a living. 8.14 seconds", replied Mark with a smirk on his face.
"Only because my hand was still on the saddlehorn. If not for that I would have come up just barely short. And I sure as hell don't want to do that again," Peters retorted.
Not surprised by the result, Isabel nodded. "Is there a new piece of 'evidence' they have to consider? I assume there's at least one more thing, as there's one more door..."
"Considering how insane that had been, Captain, I wouldn't surprised if they produced anything dramatic to finish this 'trial'", said Mark.
"How about a nice game of chess," Peters suggested, "I'm good at chess...."
Isabel raised an eyebrow, "Somehow, Mr. Peters, I doubt it'll be that easy."
"Don't yous worry, it's somethin' for both of yous to do. Least tha's how it's gone every other time," Roy chimed in.
Rocco gave a rather cold, hard look at Roy, "You have too big of a mouth. However, in this case, your lawyer is correct. The question of whether or not the last piece of evidence is included will be determined by the next challenge, which both defendants will participate in."
Olivia, in her sparkling dress, stepped forward and placed the latest results on the chalkboard before turning back to the courtroom smiling. "All ready, your honor."
"Mr. Peters, Mr. Grayson, step forward to see what the next piece of evidence is and to hear your challenge," Rocco bellowed.
Looking at both men, Isabel said, "Thus far you're two for two, and this is the last piece of evidence. I'm sure the result will be the same this time."
Both Mark and Todd approached the Judge's bench. Grayson had a bad feeling about that.
The judge yelled."The next evidence is a full confession you two made!"
Confession? Isabel shook her head, apparently it was more made up evidence. Though it seemed potentially more damaging than the others...
"What a hell?", muttered Mark. "Peters?", asked him to the engineer, with a menacing look.
Peters looked back, "I didn't make any confessions."
At that moment Roy spoke up, "According to my notes yous two did."
Peters looked at Roy, then at Grayson, then back to Roy, and back to Grayson again. After a moment he said simply, "Grayson, do you want to tell him?"
"Take you and your ridiculous accent the hell out of here. You're fired", said Mark with an evil smile.
Peters grinned. "Bye Bye, Roy, been nice knowing you."
Isabel quirked an eyebrow at the newest turn of events. She nodded to Roy as he grumbled and left the courtroom. He hadn't been much help anyway.
"Alright, alright, let's get on with it. You two need another lawyer, then we need to see if the confession is in," Rocco bellowed, smacking his squeaky hammer on the gavel.
Mark looked around and saw Rayne there. They exchanged looks and Mark gave her a slight nod.
"Actually," Peters said, "I think I'd rather represent myself if Roy is representative of the quality of lawyers they assign to the defense of cases."
Rocco raised his eyebrows at Peters, then waved his hand. "Whatever. Let's get this show on the road."
Peters looked towards the last door to see what kind of loony character would appear this time. Then he felt the floor begin to vibrate. It took him a moment to realize what was happening, then he noticed that the platform with the doors on it was rotating. On the side turning to face them was a short dirt track.
There were some sacks laying on one end and a pair of bars with a finish tape running between them at the other end. Two other people in athletic shorts and tank tops were already there, standing together and putting their inside legs into one of the sacks.
"The third challenge will be a three-legged race!" Rocco crowed, banging his squeaky gavel several times.
Peters sighed and rested his face in his hands. "This is NOT going to be fun."
"I should have listened to my father, when he told me to be a doctor..." said Grayson to no one in particular.
OFF:
A JP with:
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
&
Lieutenant, JG Mark Grayson II
Chief INtelligence Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Isabel returned to the defense table quickly after talking with Byan. Part of her hadn't wanted to leave, especially considering they'd been waiting to see if Todd had stayed on the horse long enough, but duty called. Truth be told, she felt like she needed a few clones of herself to accomplish everything. Though even the thought of Borg made her stomach turn, and drudged up her memories of Derek, she partially wanted to be on the Malinche, seeing things through.
She mentally shook her head; no sense in second guessing herself now. Being here was just as important. Isabel turned to Mark and Todd, with a slightly disapproving look at the lawyer, "Well, what was the decision? Did he stay on the full eight seconds?"
"Well, it appears that Peters here could drop engineering and start riding wild animals for a living. 8.14 seconds", replied Mark with a smirk on his face.
"Only because my hand was still on the saddlehorn. If not for that I would have come up just barely short. And I sure as hell don't want to do that again," Peters retorted.
Not surprised by the result, Isabel nodded. "Is there a new piece of 'evidence' they have to consider? I assume there's at least one more thing, as there's one more door..."
"Considering how insane that had been, Captain, I wouldn't surprised if they produced anything dramatic to finish this 'trial'", said Mark.
"How about a nice game of chess," Peters suggested, "I'm good at chess...."
Isabel raised an eyebrow, "Somehow, Mr. Peters, I doubt it'll be that easy."
"Don't yous worry, it's somethin' for both of yous to do. Least tha's how it's gone every other time," Roy chimed in.
Rocco gave a rather cold, hard look at Roy, "You have too big of a mouth. However, in this case, your lawyer is correct. The question of whether or not the last piece of evidence is included will be determined by the next challenge, which both defendants will participate in."
Olivia, in her sparkling dress, stepped forward and placed the latest results on the chalkboard before turning back to the courtroom smiling. "All ready, your honor."
"Mr. Peters, Mr. Grayson, step forward to see what the next piece of evidence is and to hear your challenge," Rocco bellowed.
Looking at both men, Isabel said, "Thus far you're two for two, and this is the last piece of evidence. I'm sure the result will be the same this time."
Both Mark and Todd approached the Judge's bench. Grayson had a bad feeling about that.
The judge yelled."The next evidence is a full confession you two made!"
Confession? Isabel shook her head, apparently it was more made up evidence. Though it seemed potentially more damaging than the others...
"What a hell?", muttered Mark. "Peters?", asked him to the engineer, with a menacing look.
Peters looked back, "I didn't make any confessions."
At that moment Roy spoke up, "According to my notes yous two did."
Peters looked at Roy, then at Grayson, then back to Roy, and back to Grayson again. After a moment he said simply, "Grayson, do you want to tell him?"
"Take you and your ridiculous accent the hell out of here. You're fired", said Mark with an evil smile.
Peters grinned. "Bye Bye, Roy, been nice knowing you."
Isabel quirked an eyebrow at the newest turn of events. She nodded to Roy as he grumbled and left the courtroom. He hadn't been much help anyway.
"Alright, alright, let's get on with it. You two need another lawyer, then we need to see if the confession is in," Rocco bellowed, smacking his squeaky hammer on the gavel.
Mark looked around and saw Rayne there. They exchanged looks and Mark gave her a slight nod.
"Actually," Peters said, "I think I'd rather represent myself if Roy is representative of the quality of lawyers they assign to the defense of cases."
Rocco raised his eyebrows at Peters, then waved his hand. "Whatever. Let's get this show on the road."
Peters looked towards the last door to see what kind of loony character would appear this time. Then he felt the floor begin to vibrate. It took him a moment to realize what was happening, then he noticed that the platform with the doors on it was rotating. On the side turning to face them was a short dirt track.
There were some sacks laying on one end and a pair of bars with a finish tape running between them at the other end. Two other people in athletic shorts and tank tops were already there, standing together and putting their inside legs into one of the sacks.
"The third challenge will be a three-legged race!" Rocco crowed, banging his squeaky gavel several times.
Peters sighed and rested his face in his hands. "This is NOT going to be fun."
"I should have listened to my father, when he told me to be a doctor..." said Grayson to no one in particular.
OFF:
A JP with:
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
&
Lieutenant, JG Mark Grayson II
Chief INtelligence Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Tony
AKA
Lieutenant Commander Todd Peters
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
-
Thundera
- Senior Staff
- Posts: 185
- Joined: Mon Dec 19, 2005 11:35 pm
- Location: Nasty Borg Bitch!
- Contact:
ON: <Basement Warehouse, Day 3, 1950>
Cautiously each walked threw the red door, it was traveling threw a canal at night. So dark and secluded. All of the darkness disappeared as they emerged from the door. The first thing they all noticed was a brightly lit room filled with flashing lights and walls with odd designs on them.
?Thundera anything? Asked Hunt helping her bring everyone in.
"There's a high frequency coming from over there", she replied pointing
---------------
Seconds later Zero emitted one high powered screech that was about 20 seconds in length. The panel that Jason had been standing next to dissolved away as well, dropping two bodies to the deck.
"My, will wonders never cease."
Cheetara screamed lounder than she had ever done. The high screech sent tremendous pains through the nodes inside her ears. She fell down to her knees holding her ears. When Zero had finished, it took a her a moment to regain her composure.
"Have you lost your mind. A warning would have been nice," Cheetara yelled in Jason and Zero's direction.
Cheetara started pushing buttons on the tricorder attached to her head to realign the nodes and repair the damage in her ears. She couldn't believe how that high of a frequency could do that to her. It was something that had never happened before. She knew that she would have to worry about modifying the nodes later. After all, there were more pressing issues to worry about at the moment.
--------------------
?Ah, Thundera I think you should see this.? Said Mason.
She walked over to where Hunt was. Where the bodies were lying on the ground. This is getting a little too easy, she thought to herself as she began to scan their life signs.
"Sir, it appears to be two members of the Sirion Crew", Cheetara stated flatly.
<tag Hunt>
"From their bio signatures, it appears to be Lieutenant Commander Aaron Nolar, their Chief Science Officer, and Ensign Borel Samek, their Historian.They seem to be unconscious at the moment. I'll revive them", she answered
Cheetara grabbed the hypospray and pressed it to their necks. Slowly they both regained consciousness. Borel jumped back a little startled as his eyes opened and saw Cheetara's borg eye staring directly at him.
"Calm down Ensign. I'm not going to hurt you", Cheetara spoke up quickly. "I'm Lieutenant Cheetara Thundera. The Chief Tactical and Security Officer from the USS Malinche. To my left is Commander Mason Hunt, the Executive Officer. And over there is Lieutenant Jason Barrett, the Chief of Operations. As well as Ensign Seryn Rhone, our Assistant Chief Communications Officer."
Cheetara didn't see Zero in sight so she didn't bother to mention him yet. She figured they could worry about that when he steps into sight. She stood up and turned toward Mason.
OFF: TBC, JP Team?
Cautiously each walked threw the red door, it was traveling threw a canal at night. So dark and secluded. All of the darkness disappeared as they emerged from the door. The first thing they all noticed was a brightly lit room filled with flashing lights and walls with odd designs on them.
?Thundera anything? Asked Hunt helping her bring everyone in.
"There's a high frequency coming from over there", she replied pointing
---------------
Seconds later Zero emitted one high powered screech that was about 20 seconds in length. The panel that Jason had been standing next to dissolved away as well, dropping two bodies to the deck.
"My, will wonders never cease."
Cheetara screamed lounder than she had ever done. The high screech sent tremendous pains through the nodes inside her ears. She fell down to her knees holding her ears. When Zero had finished, it took a her a moment to regain her composure.
"Have you lost your mind. A warning would have been nice," Cheetara yelled in Jason and Zero's direction.
Cheetara started pushing buttons on the tricorder attached to her head to realign the nodes and repair the damage in her ears. She couldn't believe how that high of a frequency could do that to her. It was something that had never happened before. She knew that she would have to worry about modifying the nodes later. After all, there were more pressing issues to worry about at the moment.
--------------------
?Ah, Thundera I think you should see this.? Said Mason.
She walked over to where Hunt was. Where the bodies were lying on the ground. This is getting a little too easy, she thought to herself as she began to scan their life signs.
"Sir, it appears to be two members of the Sirion Crew", Cheetara stated flatly.
<tag Hunt>
"From their bio signatures, it appears to be Lieutenant Commander Aaron Nolar, their Chief Science Officer, and Ensign Borel Samek, their Historian.They seem to be unconscious at the moment. I'll revive them", she answered
Cheetara grabbed the hypospray and pressed it to their necks. Slowly they both regained consciousness. Borel jumped back a little startled as his eyes opened and saw Cheetara's borg eye staring directly at him.
"Calm down Ensign. I'm not going to hurt you", Cheetara spoke up quickly. "I'm Lieutenant Cheetara Thundera. The Chief Tactical and Security Officer from the USS Malinche. To my left is Commander Mason Hunt, the Executive Officer. And over there is Lieutenant Jason Barrett, the Chief of Operations. As well as Ensign Seryn Rhone, our Assistant Chief Communications Officer."
Cheetara didn't see Zero in sight so she didn't bother to mention him yet. She figured they could worry about that when he steps into sight. She stood up and turned toward Mason.
OFF: TBC, JP Team?
Lieutenant Cheetara Thundera
Chief Science Officer
USS Malinche NCC 38997-A
<Basement Warehouse, Day 3, 1950>
The Sirion crew memebers looked up at thier Malinche crew, partly in shock and partly in disbelief. From where they were sitting they couldn't see Zero (NPC) at least until he stepped into view. They looked more shocked then anything.
"Don't be alarmed by him," Jason said, gesturing toward Zero. "He's mostly harmless unless you count his bad manners and his bad jokes."
"Commentary: I will have you know that I have been programmed with near limitless tactical capabilities."
"What are you doing here?" Nolar asked.
"Looking for you," Mason responded, reaching down to help Aaron to his feet. "Seems we found what we were looking for."
"What is that thing?" Borel asked, pointing to Zero.
"Just a friend we picked up, are you alright?" Rhone asked.
"Fine, a headache but fine," Aaron answered. "I don't have any clue as to how I got here though."
"Seems to be the million dollar question I just wish we had that million dollar answer," Jason sighed.
OFF: Tag Team
The Sirion crew memebers looked up at thier Malinche crew, partly in shock and partly in disbelief. From where they were sitting they couldn't see Zero (NPC) at least until he stepped into view. They looked more shocked then anything.
"Don't be alarmed by him," Jason said, gesturing toward Zero. "He's mostly harmless unless you count his bad manners and his bad jokes."
"Commentary: I will have you know that I have been programmed with near limitless tactical capabilities."
"What are you doing here?" Nolar asked.
"Looking for you," Mason responded, reaching down to help Aaron to his feet. "Seems we found what we were looking for."
"What is that thing?" Borel asked, pointing to Zero.
"Just a friend we picked up, are you alright?" Rhone asked.
"Fine, a headache but fine," Aaron answered. "I don't have any clue as to how I got here though."
"Seems to be the million dollar question I just wish we had that million dollar answer," Jason sighed.
OFF: Tag Team
Lieutenant Commander Jason Barrett
Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
-
Quarterstaff
- Crewmember
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Mon Sep 25, 2006 5:06 pm
- Location: MA
- Contact:
<Transporter room, USS Malinche>
<Day 3, 2135>
Lynn opened one eye and let out the breath she had been holding in. The sensation of having your body dematerialize and re-materialize left her with a woozy feeling, certainly not one she would never be comfortable with. Shifting the weight of her body from standing erect to just one leg, the red head peered around, eyes wide open.
?Wow.. it feels so much different when you know this is going to be your 'home'."
Her emerald eyes darted to the ceiling and to the floor, then to the walls around. She wanted to drink in her first few moments onboard the ship,
even if it was only the transport room.
Chris looked up from the transporter console in front of him to the red-haired young woman who'd just appeared in front of him. She was young, and very pretty. He smiled, "You'll get used to it."
She stood up straight again and nodded courteously, hands moving as she spoke. ? Maybe, but I suppose We?ll just have to wait and see. Ah, hello! I?m Ensign Lynn Quarterstaff, as I?m sure you know I?ve just been newly assigned to the??
Her voice trailed off. There she was babbling like an idiot again. Placing her hands by her sides and speaking in a lower and more composed voice she tried again. ?Hello.?
Her lips curved into a smile. Lynn pushed back a lock of red hair and stepped off the platform. She certainly hopped she hadn?t made a fool of herself already.
Moving from behind the console, he stepped forward towards her. "Ensign Chris Fields. Just got your orders before you arrived," Chris replied, his green eyes keen on her every move. "Welcome aboard the Malinche." After dealing with some of the other Engineers all day, this woman was a sight for sore eyes.
Lynn felt her heart rate go down a few notches and her face that had been beginning to flush with embarrassment faded back to its normal hue. ?I was told there would be another Medical professional onboard; you wouldn?t happen to know if they had arrived yet, would you?? She wondered briefly if he could tell she was fresh out of the academy, or if it even matter for that matter.
Chris racked his brain for the right answer, not wanting to let Lynn down. "Well, we had a Chief Medical Officer, Lieutenant Commander Darkhelm, but she recently left... Let me check and see if there's another one scheduled to arrive."
Tapping at the console, Chris looked for more transfer orders. Seeing two new ones, he paused. "Well, it looks like we'll be getting a new Assistant Chief Security/Tactical Officer, and a new Chief Medical Officer, but they've not arrived yet. We did get a new Chief Counselor today," he informed her, hoping his response was adequate.
His efforts where rewarded with a wide smile. ?That?s perfect; I was worried I?d alone in sick bay.? She smoothed back the tangle of red hair that had fallen back into her face before continuing. ?I suppose it?d be best to report to the commanding officer now and get settled onto the ship. Would you??
Her pale hands moved in a questioning motion, she rather hoped he would show her the way around. Lynn could memorize pages of medical text but give her a map and some directions and she would get lost every time. Besides he was a pleasant man to look at, maybe she would see him some time in the sick bay. It would probably take some time to get friendly with other crew members, no one likes shots?
"Actually," Chris' brain froze a moment, trying to decide if he should address her as 'miss' or 'ma'am', "Ms. Quarterstaff, Captain Kersare isn't on board presently. She's on the away team. However, Lieutenant Sovereign is in charge." Seeing her hesitate a bit and deciding that one of the other Engineering officers could cover the transporter room, Chris continued, "I can take you to her, or your room, if you'd like."
Lynn was silent for a second. ?I can wait until the captain has arrived. It?ll give me time to get organized any way.? She stepped to the right, heels clicking together. Her hair bounced with the single step. ?Lead the way, sah?.? She replied back to him with the same formality he had used, complete with the soft drawl what glazed ever ?r? she said.
He nodded a grin on his face, "Right this way." Chris allowed Lynn to leave the room first, following after her, then leading the way to her quarters. A little nervous, he tried to make conversation with her, "So, have you ever served on a Prometheus class ship before?"
His Question made Lynn giggle softly. ?Indeed not. I?m what would be called a ?greenie?, just graduated from the academy not too long ago. The closest I?ve been to one of these ships is when my father would bring us aboard the ships he worked on. He was an engineer too.?
Her foot steps made a soft tapping noise down the smooth floors of the ship, and Lynn found her mind wandering to the number of taps she heard. To keep her attention on Chris She inquired of his past experience. ?Have you been on the Malinche long??
Father an engineer...that was a good sign, Chris decided. He watched her quietly as she walked along with a faint smile on his lips, looking away time and again so as not to be accused of staring. "You must've seen a good number of ships then. Don't worry, you'll fit right in, I'm sure of it," he told her encouragingly. "Been aboard about a year now."
She nodded sagely, her smile still in place. ?Then you must really be at ease up here in space.?
She knew they must have been nearing their destination when Lynn noticed the ship change from practical and cold to soften into what seemed like an area people inhabited. But maybe that was just her own sentimental side of seeing living Quarters.
He smiled, "Yeah, feels like home now. Speaking of which.." Stepping back a bit he gestured to a door on the right. "Here are your quarters. I'll leave you to settling in, but if you need anything, just ask," Chris told Lynn, flashing her a smile. Part of him really hoped she needed something...either now or later for that matter.
?I?ll keep that in mind.? Lynn titled her head, curls spilling over her shoulders and waved a small good bye.
?We?ll see each other around. It can?t be that big of a ship.? She turned to the door and took a deep breath. This was it she was finally here. A small sense of pride and exhaustion washed over her. Oh lord she hoped there would be time to lie down before having to meet the captain.
Off:
JP with
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
as
(NPC) Ensign Chris Fields
<Day 3, 2135>
Lynn opened one eye and let out the breath she had been holding in. The sensation of having your body dematerialize and re-materialize left her with a woozy feeling, certainly not one she would never be comfortable with. Shifting the weight of her body from standing erect to just one leg, the red head peered around, eyes wide open.
?Wow.. it feels so much different when you know this is going to be your 'home'."
Her emerald eyes darted to the ceiling and to the floor, then to the walls around. She wanted to drink in her first few moments onboard the ship,
even if it was only the transport room.
Chris looked up from the transporter console in front of him to the red-haired young woman who'd just appeared in front of him. She was young, and very pretty. He smiled, "You'll get used to it."
She stood up straight again and nodded courteously, hands moving as she spoke. ? Maybe, but I suppose We?ll just have to wait and see. Ah, hello! I?m Ensign Lynn Quarterstaff, as I?m sure you know I?ve just been newly assigned to the??
Her voice trailed off. There she was babbling like an idiot again. Placing her hands by her sides and speaking in a lower and more composed voice she tried again. ?Hello.?
Her lips curved into a smile. Lynn pushed back a lock of red hair and stepped off the platform. She certainly hopped she hadn?t made a fool of herself already.
Moving from behind the console, he stepped forward towards her. "Ensign Chris Fields. Just got your orders before you arrived," Chris replied, his green eyes keen on her every move. "Welcome aboard the Malinche." After dealing with some of the other Engineers all day, this woman was a sight for sore eyes.
Lynn felt her heart rate go down a few notches and her face that had been beginning to flush with embarrassment faded back to its normal hue. ?I was told there would be another Medical professional onboard; you wouldn?t happen to know if they had arrived yet, would you?? She wondered briefly if he could tell she was fresh out of the academy, or if it even matter for that matter.
Chris racked his brain for the right answer, not wanting to let Lynn down. "Well, we had a Chief Medical Officer, Lieutenant Commander Darkhelm, but she recently left... Let me check and see if there's another one scheduled to arrive."
Tapping at the console, Chris looked for more transfer orders. Seeing two new ones, he paused. "Well, it looks like we'll be getting a new Assistant Chief Security/Tactical Officer, and a new Chief Medical Officer, but they've not arrived yet. We did get a new Chief Counselor today," he informed her, hoping his response was adequate.
His efforts where rewarded with a wide smile. ?That?s perfect; I was worried I?d alone in sick bay.? She smoothed back the tangle of red hair that had fallen back into her face before continuing. ?I suppose it?d be best to report to the commanding officer now and get settled onto the ship. Would you??
Her pale hands moved in a questioning motion, she rather hoped he would show her the way around. Lynn could memorize pages of medical text but give her a map and some directions and she would get lost every time. Besides he was a pleasant man to look at, maybe she would see him some time in the sick bay. It would probably take some time to get friendly with other crew members, no one likes shots?
"Actually," Chris' brain froze a moment, trying to decide if he should address her as 'miss' or 'ma'am', "Ms. Quarterstaff, Captain Kersare isn't on board presently. She's on the away team. However, Lieutenant Sovereign is in charge." Seeing her hesitate a bit and deciding that one of the other Engineering officers could cover the transporter room, Chris continued, "I can take you to her, or your room, if you'd like."
Lynn was silent for a second. ?I can wait until the captain has arrived. It?ll give me time to get organized any way.? She stepped to the right, heels clicking together. Her hair bounced with the single step. ?Lead the way, sah?.? She replied back to him with the same formality he had used, complete with the soft drawl what glazed ever ?r? she said.
He nodded a grin on his face, "Right this way." Chris allowed Lynn to leave the room first, following after her, then leading the way to her quarters. A little nervous, he tried to make conversation with her, "So, have you ever served on a Prometheus class ship before?"
His Question made Lynn giggle softly. ?Indeed not. I?m what would be called a ?greenie?, just graduated from the academy not too long ago. The closest I?ve been to one of these ships is when my father would bring us aboard the ships he worked on. He was an engineer too.?
Her foot steps made a soft tapping noise down the smooth floors of the ship, and Lynn found her mind wandering to the number of taps she heard. To keep her attention on Chris She inquired of his past experience. ?Have you been on the Malinche long??
Father an engineer...that was a good sign, Chris decided. He watched her quietly as she walked along with a faint smile on his lips, looking away time and again so as not to be accused of staring. "You must've seen a good number of ships then. Don't worry, you'll fit right in, I'm sure of it," he told her encouragingly. "Been aboard about a year now."
She nodded sagely, her smile still in place. ?Then you must really be at ease up here in space.?
She knew they must have been nearing their destination when Lynn noticed the ship change from practical and cold to soften into what seemed like an area people inhabited. But maybe that was just her own sentimental side of seeing living Quarters.
He smiled, "Yeah, feels like home now. Speaking of which.." Stepping back a bit he gestured to a door on the right. "Here are your quarters. I'll leave you to settling in, but if you need anything, just ask," Chris told Lynn, flashing her a smile. Part of him really hoped she needed something...either now or later for that matter.
?I?ll keep that in mind.? Lynn titled her head, curls spilling over her shoulders and waved a small good bye.
?We?ll see each other around. It can?t be that big of a ship.? She turned to the door and took a deep breath. This was it she was finally here. A small sense of pride and exhaustion washed over her. Oh lord she hoped there would be time to lie down before having to meet the captain.
Off:
JP with
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
as
(NPC) Ensign Chris Fields
Ensign Lynn Quarterstaff
Medical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B