<USS Malinche, Deck 4, MD01, 1823>
Jack walked towards transporter room 2, he knew he would most likely be late for the meal but it wasn?t like he didn?t have a good reason, when he returned to his quarters to change into his dress uniform for this evenings dinner he ordered a coffee from the replicator, which promptly materialised without a mug a poured all over his floor.
It didn?t take him long to worked out who might be behind altering his replicator, as Jack stood and looked at the expanded puddle on his carpet he had an idea for a mess of his own.
He left to head to the Chiefs quarters, stopping off at the nearest equipment replicator along the way, inside he replicated terran cress seeds, water and several plant growth stimulators, as he really wanted to see the expression on Marcos face when he stepped through his door, so replicated a holo-imager while he was there.
After a brisk walk to the enlisted crew decks he quickly found Marcos quarters and overrid the door lock, being an intelligence agent had its advantages he thought.
He knew he?d have to hurry to make it back for the meal so he opened and sprinkled the seeds all over the thin carpet of the living quarters, mixed the stimulants with the water bottle and watered his new garden which should sprout in about 30 minutes, then as he backed out of the room he set up the holo-imager facing the door, tying it in to the PADD in his inner jacket pocket.
He patted the PADD in his jacket as he stepped through the door to the transporter room, Mr Tupalov was in for a surprise when he returned to his room, and Jack was looking forward to seeing his expression.
He smiled as he stepped onto the transporter pad and beamed to the Sentinel?
Lost And Found (JM with USS Sentinel/Peacekeeper)
Moderators: Tournneau, Korath, Kersare
<Yrel's Quarters, 1815 hours, MD1, USS Malinche>
As much as the standard uniform was a pain, the dress one was much worse. The jacket was as solid piece, with no notable undershirt, an a irritating air of expectations and duty about to follow it. A formal dinner with the Sentinel crew it seemed. After a productive briefing earlier, they were now gonna be forced to be in close quarters with each while they headed head on for a date with the Borg. It wasn't very motivating. There were things everyone had to get done, no less. Weapons to remodulate, ship systems to throughly get into prime running condition, personnel to prepare at least mentally for the monster that was to come. Why a dinner? Was efficiency between the crew gonna be that much of a concern? Couldn't they...
Yrel was just tired and getting crusty. The day felt really long, and this dinner wasn't helping matters. She wasn't in a very socialist mood after finding out she had twins on the way. The more she dwindled on it, the more it freightened her. Now, she was regretting jumping in such a fast sexual relationship with Cameron. He was a nice guy and she just abused him for her own means, which she was coming to think as an erratic and overly emotional idea. She need to think about it more. She <i>should</i> have thought about it more. Now she was on her way to motherhood, having the sore skin from the bulkheads to prove it. There were days to come yet of rough tumbles against the corridors and against the deck, before she was thrown into the next phase.
Her hair hung in a neat mess from her head, her hands struggling with it to find a way to hold the rose red hair in a place that was acceptable by protocol and yet comfortable for herself. In the end, a number of loose strands hung down the back of her head, rested on the tip of her uniform collar. If Kersare had a problem with it, Yrel didn't care. For whatever reason, her hair was far too unmanageable tonight than before.
She took a deep breath and headed for the door. She'd make it in time for the second beam over, and probably just in time to start the quaint foodfest. She could probably dodge and lull her way through the dinner simply enough and maybe sneak out early and find a nice spot on her mattress for some well needed sleep.
That was hope anyways...
As much as the standard uniform was a pain, the dress one was much worse. The jacket was as solid piece, with no notable undershirt, an a irritating air of expectations and duty about to follow it. A formal dinner with the Sentinel crew it seemed. After a productive briefing earlier, they were now gonna be forced to be in close quarters with each while they headed head on for a date with the Borg. It wasn't very motivating. There were things everyone had to get done, no less. Weapons to remodulate, ship systems to throughly get into prime running condition, personnel to prepare at least mentally for the monster that was to come. Why a dinner? Was efficiency between the crew gonna be that much of a concern? Couldn't they...
Yrel was just tired and getting crusty. The day felt really long, and this dinner wasn't helping matters. She wasn't in a very socialist mood after finding out she had twins on the way. The more she dwindled on it, the more it freightened her. Now, she was regretting jumping in such a fast sexual relationship with Cameron. He was a nice guy and she just abused him for her own means, which she was coming to think as an erratic and overly emotional idea. She need to think about it more. She <i>should</i> have thought about it more. Now she was on her way to motherhood, having the sore skin from the bulkheads to prove it. There were days to come yet of rough tumbles against the corridors and against the deck, before she was thrown into the next phase.
Her hair hung in a neat mess from her head, her hands struggling with it to find a way to hold the rose red hair in a place that was acceptable by protocol and yet comfortable for herself. In the end, a number of loose strands hung down the back of her head, rested on the tip of her uniform collar. If Kersare had a problem with it, Yrel didn't care. For whatever reason, her hair was far too unmanageable tonight than before.
She took a deep breath and headed for the door. She'd make it in time for the second beam over, and probably just in time to start the quaint foodfest. She could probably dodge and lull her way through the dinner simply enough and maybe sneak out early and find a nice spot on her mattress for some well needed sleep.
That was hope anyways...
Lieutenant Yrel Sovereign
Chief Science Officer & Second Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
-
Starbase 386 Crew
- Posts: 105
- Joined: Sun Jul 01, 2007 11:38 pm
- Location: Starbase 386
On:
<USS Sentinel, CMO's Office, Day 1, 1800 hours>
Illeana sat quietly. Her hands were folded on the cool surface of her desk, her fingers intertwined. Her gaze was fixed in a daze upon her hands. She breathed slowly, in through her mouth, out through her nose. It wasn't a purposeful action, and by no means an attempt at meditation, but simply her deep dark thoughts.
They were dark. Her usual sunny demeanor was gone. It had been gone since her discovery of what the up coming mission entailed. What enemy she would have to face. They would all have to face.
A shudder made it's way down her spine, as the stories her parents had told her ringed through her ears. Stories of terror, death, massacre. Though she had not experienced them first hand, they haunted her.
When she had been younger, she had an adolescent interest in the Borg. Part of her rebellious stage, she supposed. She wanted to know more about her former home world, her heritage, and to do so, would be to research it's destruction.
Though not many survived, there were still those who were alive during this time. Her parents were fine examples, but unwilling to discuss the terror they experienced. So, through her research, Illeana learned of the terrors the Borg threw upon her people. An entire race, almost entirely obliterated,f or no better reason than "resistance is futile."
Her upper lip curled in an almost snarl. Those who knew her would not recognize her in her current state. She felt an emotion she had little experience with; hatred. Being a doctor, and a kind hearted woman, Illeana hated nothing, except the Borg. The thought of facing them made that anger and hatred bubble up inside her.
She finally managed to shake herself out of her dismal thoughts. She would have to go to the dinner. There was no way of getting out of that, but she was not in the mood to act like her usual chipper self. No. Now she wanted to take her agression out on some innocent holodeck program.
"Later," she cooed to herself as she rose out of her chair. Having changed earlier, her sleek dress tickled the back of her thighs as she walked towards the door of her office.
The doors opened easily, and several eyes fell upon her. Usually this would be because she was formally dressed, and looked great. But today it was because her entire staff had known she was on edge. It didn't take a Betazoid to know. She knew they were avoiding her, and watching her as if she were a time bomb.
'Maybe that's what I am,' she thought to herself, her eyes scanning the faces around her.
"I'll be in the Mess Hall." She spoke without giving anyone time to respond as she strode out of Sick Bay and into the corridor.
Off:
_________________
Lieutenant JG Illeana Naros
Chief Medical Officer
USS Sentinel NCC - 74673
<USS Sentinel, CMO's Office, Day 1, 1800 hours>
Illeana sat quietly. Her hands were folded on the cool surface of her desk, her fingers intertwined. Her gaze was fixed in a daze upon her hands. She breathed slowly, in through her mouth, out through her nose. It wasn't a purposeful action, and by no means an attempt at meditation, but simply her deep dark thoughts.
They were dark. Her usual sunny demeanor was gone. It had been gone since her discovery of what the up coming mission entailed. What enemy she would have to face. They would all have to face.
A shudder made it's way down her spine, as the stories her parents had told her ringed through her ears. Stories of terror, death, massacre. Though she had not experienced them first hand, they haunted her.
When she had been younger, she had an adolescent interest in the Borg. Part of her rebellious stage, she supposed. She wanted to know more about her former home world, her heritage, and to do so, would be to research it's destruction.
Though not many survived, there were still those who were alive during this time. Her parents were fine examples, but unwilling to discuss the terror they experienced. So, through her research, Illeana learned of the terrors the Borg threw upon her people. An entire race, almost entirely obliterated,f or no better reason than "resistance is futile."
Her upper lip curled in an almost snarl. Those who knew her would not recognize her in her current state. She felt an emotion she had little experience with; hatred. Being a doctor, and a kind hearted woman, Illeana hated nothing, except the Borg. The thought of facing them made that anger and hatred bubble up inside her.
She finally managed to shake herself out of her dismal thoughts. She would have to go to the dinner. There was no way of getting out of that, but she was not in the mood to act like her usual chipper self. No. Now she wanted to take her agression out on some innocent holodeck program.
"Later," she cooed to herself as she rose out of her chair. Having changed earlier, her sleek dress tickled the back of her thighs as she walked towards the door of her office.
The doors opened easily, and several eyes fell upon her. Usually this would be because she was formally dressed, and looked great. But today it was because her entire staff had known she was on edge. It didn't take a Betazoid to know. She knew they were avoiding her, and watching her as if she were a time bomb.
'Maybe that's what I am,' she thought to herself, her eyes scanning the faces around her.
"I'll be in the Mess Hall." She spoke without giving anyone time to respond as she strode out of Sick Bay and into the corridor.
Off:
_________________
Lieutenant JG Illeana Naros
Chief Medical Officer
USS Sentinel NCC - 74673
This is a post by a member of Starbase 386's Crew
http://starbase386.antoniemey.com/
http://starbase386.antoniemey.com/
<<USS Malinche, Holodeck, 18:00, Day One>>
Lying on the right side of his face, it was left that slowly blinked open first, to find the holodeck on its side.
He coughed, trying to fight off a layer of burning in his throat, and grimaced when the expelled air threw up a spray of a lukewarm liquid onto his face. Marco propped himself, slowly, spitting the fleks of vomit away from his lips. He wiped his mouth and then his hands on the trousers of his uniform. ?Peas and carrots always?? he grumbled, chancing a quick look at the pool of mess on the floor.
?I?m gonna butchers your Fairbairn?? Marco growled, standing up very, very carefully and fighting off the waves of dizziness that seemed to attack him, wanting to force him back to the floor.
A few ginger steps later and he was in the corridor, one hand palm-flat against the wall to steady himself, he felt the cool surface against his fingertips and then proceeded to press his face against, sighing with relief was the cold metal pushed against his hot sweaty skin.
He pushed closer and titled his head up, so that the wall could, just barely though, also touch his neck.
?Uhh?Chief??
Marco?s eyes, closed and enjoying the brief relief, shot open like dinner plates.
Marco daren?t move. ?What?? he asked, sounded most irritated.
?Um?are you ok??
?Why would you ask such stupid question, boy? Marco snapped back, hoping to dear god the guy would leave.
?I, well?erm what are you doing???
As if the most incredibly moronic question he?d heard, and as if Marco was behaving in the perfect norm, he replied angrily. ?I?m pressing my face against a bloody wall, what does it look like!??
The voice fell silent for a moment, and Marco still stood stock still. ?I still haven?t found??
Marco was glad for the change in direction of conversation, but seized on the opportunity to get rid of him, he cut him off and barked; ?then go and bloody find it!?
?Chief? Came the reply, and boots banged down the corridor.
Sliding along the wall, trying to retain some sense of balance, Marco proceeded down to his quarters, thankfully he didn?t bump into anyone else, the majority of the crew were likely in the mess, it was about that time.
Thumbing the door release on his quarters, he put a foot over the threshold, his boot crunched on the floor. Looking down, he saw?some kind of plant life had taken hold of his quarters? ?Hawkins?? he mumbled, too ill to care at that particular moment. Before he stepped any further, a wry smile crossed his lips, as the thought of how to get him back instantly flashed across his mind.
He composed himself, and just hoped he could stay vertical for a while. Marco tapped his comm. badge, ?Red Alert.? He ordered.
?Bridge? came the reply as the red lights began to slowly flash in the corridor.
?Some lifeform has taken control of my quarters. We may be compromised.?
Marco turned about and made for the turbolift, when he got in there was already someone there, a lieutenant. ?Bridge? Marco ordered, a grin being suppressed with difficulty, as he pictured Hawkins falling over himself explaining this one to Kersare?
OFF:
Lying on the right side of his face, it was left that slowly blinked open first, to find the holodeck on its side.
He coughed, trying to fight off a layer of burning in his throat, and grimaced when the expelled air threw up a spray of a lukewarm liquid onto his face. Marco propped himself, slowly, spitting the fleks of vomit away from his lips. He wiped his mouth and then his hands on the trousers of his uniform. ?Peas and carrots always?? he grumbled, chancing a quick look at the pool of mess on the floor.
?I?m gonna butchers your Fairbairn?? Marco growled, standing up very, very carefully and fighting off the waves of dizziness that seemed to attack him, wanting to force him back to the floor.
A few ginger steps later and he was in the corridor, one hand palm-flat against the wall to steady himself, he felt the cool surface against his fingertips and then proceeded to press his face against, sighing with relief was the cold metal pushed against his hot sweaty skin.
He pushed closer and titled his head up, so that the wall could, just barely though, also touch his neck.
?Uhh?Chief??
Marco?s eyes, closed and enjoying the brief relief, shot open like dinner plates.
Marco daren?t move. ?What?? he asked, sounded most irritated.
?Um?are you ok??
?Why would you ask such stupid question, boy? Marco snapped back, hoping to dear god the guy would leave.
?I, well?erm what are you doing???
As if the most incredibly moronic question he?d heard, and as if Marco was behaving in the perfect norm, he replied angrily. ?I?m pressing my face against a bloody wall, what does it look like!??
The voice fell silent for a moment, and Marco still stood stock still. ?I still haven?t found??
Marco was glad for the change in direction of conversation, but seized on the opportunity to get rid of him, he cut him off and barked; ?then go and bloody find it!?
?Chief? Came the reply, and boots banged down the corridor.
Sliding along the wall, trying to retain some sense of balance, Marco proceeded down to his quarters, thankfully he didn?t bump into anyone else, the majority of the crew were likely in the mess, it was about that time.
Thumbing the door release on his quarters, he put a foot over the threshold, his boot crunched on the floor. Looking down, he saw?some kind of plant life had taken hold of his quarters? ?Hawkins?? he mumbled, too ill to care at that particular moment. Before he stepped any further, a wry smile crossed his lips, as the thought of how to get him back instantly flashed across his mind.
He composed himself, and just hoped he could stay vertical for a while. Marco tapped his comm. badge, ?Red Alert.? He ordered.
?Bridge? came the reply as the red lights began to slowly flash in the corridor.
?Some lifeform has taken control of my quarters. We may be compromised.?
Marco turned about and made for the turbolift, when he got in there was already someone there, a lieutenant. ?Bridge? Marco ordered, a grin being suppressed with difficulty, as he pictured Hawkins falling over himself explaining this one to Kersare?
OFF:
Warrant Officer First Class Marco Tupalov
Chief Flight Control Officer
U.S.S Malinche
-
Peters
- Senior Staff
- Posts: 202
- Joined: Mon Mar 20, 2006 2:17 pm
- Location: Space, the final frontier...
- Contact:
<USS Sentinel, Transporter Room, 1822, Day 1>
The Transporter Room of the Sentinel shimmered into existence as Isabel and the first group of Senior Staff transported over from the Malinche. Captain Lange, Chief Petty Officer Nira, and a few others were there to greet them. Isabel smiled as she stepped off the transporter pad. "Good evening, Captain Lange."
"Welcome aboard, Captain Kersare," Lange replied as he extended his hand. "I'll dispense with the usual introductions since we were all introduced at the briefing."
She took his hand and nodded, "Thank you Captain. Actually I do have a new Chief Operations Officer, Lieutenant JG Trayven Roh, who is joining us, but otherwise, as you said, we were introduced at the briefing."
Quaid looked around the Sentinel's Transporter Room; it was almost identical to the Transporter Room he just beamed from. Luckily he managed to find his dress uniform, the unfortunate thing was that it was rather constricting around the collar.
He noticed the small welcoming committee as soon as he materialized and politely nodded in their direction as Captain's Kersare and Lange began the evening's conversations. He stepped of the Transporter Pad and stood to Kersare's left as they awaited the remaining members of their party.
Arriving with the Captain and the others, Trayven was still fiddling with his dress uniform. How he hated official functions. Not that he had been to many of them. They were usually reserved for Captains and their designees. And of that he was oh so glad, but this was no ordinary official function. This was meeting with the crew of another ship to further discuss their joint mission. He wondered which one of them was their COO. There were too many yellow shirts to distinguish between them. But he was sure that they would be introduced at a later time, so Tray just melted into the background.
Rhys was biting his tongue fiercely to not say anything, even under his breath, about what he was thinking. Partly is was a sense of personal pride? he had come to think the crew of the Sentinel could handle anything, without help? he still wasn't convinced this other crew would be a good partnering, but for the sake of being the bigger person, faked his smile.
Peters felt the familiar tingling sensation of rematerialization as the Sentinel's transporter room came into view. He stepped off the transporter platform and stepped to one side to allow those behind him off as well. He could see a handful of personnel from the Sentinel present, as well as everyone from the Malinche.
Lange watched as the second group from the Malinche materialized. As the officers stepped off the pad, he cleared his throat. "If I may have everyone's attention... As your host this evening, I'd like to welcome you all aboard the Sentinel on behalf of myself and my senior staff."
Kilana smiled as the Malinche's Senior Staff arrived and James began with the formalities. The dinner would be a good experience, in her opinion. The two crews would be working together, so being able to interact in a more relaxed setting to start things off would be nice.
'I sound like a tour guide,' Lange thought to himself before continuing. "Our dinner this evening will be a truly multi-cultural experience. We'll begin with Bajoran Hasperat as an appetizer, followed by a Vulcan garden salad, with a main course of Lasagna. Dessert will be your option of I'danian Spice Pudding or Uttaberry crepes. Drinks are anything you want, though I do recommend the Raktajino and the Aldebaran Whiskey."
It seemed that James and the Sentinel crew were thorough at the very least. A good assortment of various foods was a good idea, in Isabel's opinion. Hopefully everything would go well, at least tonight...there was no telling how things would go during the mission, though she tried to put that out of her mind for the time being.
Listening to the menu, Rhys's ears picked up on the word Lasagna? mmmm?. Cheeeeese.
Peters listened as Lange rattled off the menu for the dinner. He found the selections very interesting. It was certainly a varied selection of foods from different cultures. He'd personally never had Uttaberry crepes.
The menu wasn't exactly what Quaid was hoping for but he figured that the crews would be too busy getting acquainted and talking about the impending mission rather than eating.
"We'll start with dinner," Lange continued, "And then after dinner those of you that wish can stay for an informal meet and greet in the lounge area of the mess hall. If you want to play any games or partake in other entertainment that is allowed as long as the materials can come from the replicator and it's kept clean."
That drew a few chuckles.
Raising an eyebrow, Kilana looked over at James. She hadn't totally realized that games would be involved as well, though the Lounge area and replicators were more than capable of handling it. Could be interesting to see what games people decided to play...
Again, Quaid felt uncomfortable. He knew how to have fun, he was a lover of extreme sports, poker and even Holonovels, but he also knew that there was a tine and a place for such things and it was at that moment that he was extra thankful for the 'escape clause' Kersare had given him.
'Games?' Rhys thought. Perhaps this evening could be productive, then? finding a worthy Uno adversary on the other ship. Oh, yes. This would be good.
Peters didn't know if he'd be in the mood for games after dinner or not, but he was sure he could use the chance to get to know the Sentinel's senior officers. He certainly wanted to get acquainted with Chief Nira as their departments would have to work together to a certain extent during the mission.
"If you'll all follow me, we'll be on our way to the Mess Hall." Lange turned and stepped out through the doors into the corridor. He waited for everyone to enter the corridor before continuing on his way towards the nearest turbolift access. They'd need to send at least three different groups via the turbolift, but it was better than asking everyone to go via emergency stairs or Jeffries Tubes.
Jack materialized a few minutes late in the empty Intrepid classes transporter room, his expression prompting the operator to point down the corridor. Jack nodded his thanks and jogged down the corridor towards his fellow officers, arriving just as the turbolift doors slid open.
Not being of the forefront of the senior staff, Cameron Fairbairn had deliberately allowed himself to be slightly late and find the opportunity to 'slink in' amongst his peers unnoticed. Not that he disliked formal meet and greets, he was just carrying a lot of weight upon his mind, Tupalov for one thing, probably just coming to his senses in holosuite 1 with an extra course of adrenaline swimming through his systems. Sometimes being a Doctor could be stressful, sometimes rewarding. Today had been particularly busy and particularly stressful. Provided he could join the Sentinel's resident Medicine Chief he would be able to discuss emergency plans for survivors.
He received a sharp stare of confusion from the transporter chief - Cameron was not wearing his dress uniform. Instead he had opted for a fresh and neatly folded duty uniform which was still a step up from his usual choice of jacket and teal undershirt. Duty uniforms were uncomfortable enough, dress uniforms another thing. Besides he was a Doctor - not an officer - despite the pips on his collar. Smiling politely the PO behind the transporter unit gestured down the hallway and casually explained the dinner would be held in the mess and with a curt smile in return he exited the transporter bay and made his way to the nearest turbolift.
Lieutenant Blake Daggerd was scurrying through the corridors having hastily thrown on his dress uniform and darted out of his quarters. He knew that he would not make it to the Transporter Room in time to greet the Malinche's crew members but he hoped to still beat them to the mess hall. Little did he know was that as he sped to the mess hall he would run into the group of Malinche and Sentinel crew he was trying to beat. Once he turned the corner and saw them he took a moment to compose himself and joined the group. Since he had missed the formal greeting he decided to quietly join the crowd after nodding to Captain Lange and his fellow crew as they passed.
Lange quirked an eyebrow at Daggerd's impromptu arrival. He merely returned the lieutenant's nod, however, and motioned the first group into the turbolift. "Deck 2, Mess Hall," Lange said and the turbolift slid shut to take the first batch to their destination.
<Sentinel's Mess Hall, 10 minutes later>
As the group reached the Mess Hall, Kilana turned around and smiled, "Here we are." Stepping aside, she let the others enter the room, smiling as they passed her. Hopefully everything would go well.
As the large group of officers entered the Mess Hall, Megan tried to casually blend in as best as possible. Her goal was to get out of here as soon as she could manage to slip away. She knew she was as good as stuck for the duration of the meal, pending some sort of emergency, but at least she would be getting supper tonight?
Isabel nodded to Kilana and stepped through the door. On one side, some tables had been pushed together to create one long banquet table. Intricately decorated paneling was along the bulkheads. On the other side of the room, some chairs and couches were grouped in a lounge area - presumably for after the meal. She headed to the table and chose a seat, standing behind it.
Lange took a seat at one end of the table, allowing the rest of his crew to sit where they would. He'd considered having placecards, but decided that everyone was old enough to find a seat without squabbling. Plus, he hoped that allowing random placement might make some more random groupsings of personnel so that his officers might get acquainted with some of the Malinche crewmembers they otherwise wouldn't have spoken to much.
Once everyone had walked in, Kilana followed, her eyes quickly scanning the room. She was glad to see that there were enough seats for everyone, even with a few extra people. The Executive Officer and 2XO seemed to be on their way to take a seat on either side of James, so she found a seat further down, across from the Malinche's Chief Engineering Officer.
Peters nodded to Nira as she took the place across from him. It seemed he wouldn't have to wait until after dinner to speak with her. That might make it easier to coordinate their plans for having the two engineering staffs work together.
As Captain Lange moved towards the table, Lieutenant Garrett realized that as the second officer, she should probably be sitting either next to the Captain or on the other side of the first officer. She?d rather have been somewhere inconspicuous, like in the middle, but duty called. Considering the personality of the first officer, Megan decided the evening would be more pleasant, if not a bit more difficult to remain unnoticed, if she was seated next to the Captain, so she took a seat to his left across from the first officer.
Lange sat down as soon as his XO and 2XO joined him at his end of the table, thus prompting everyone else who'd been standing to also take their seats.
Trayven Roh sat down at the end of the table trying to stay out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind, he said to himself. He wondered when he was going to get to meet the Sentinel's Ops officer. As he scanned the table, his eyes stopped on a woman in a yellow uniform. He had found her and he was so excited about collaborating with her soon.
As Megan scanned the group, she mentally rehearsed putting the names with the faces, so as not to embarrass herself unduly. She recognized everyone and remembered everyone?s name, save one, a short, dark haired man in an ops/engineering dress uniform. And he was looking right at her.
Quickly realizing that with the positions of Chief Engineer and Chief Tactical/Security officer filled, this could only be the Chief of Operations. But if that was the case, why hadn?t he been at the meeting, or on the manifest, or mentioned? He had to be new, and they would, therefore, be working closely together. Sending him a very quick smile, Megan glanced at Captain Lange, trying to appear intent on whatever it was he was talking about while her hands fiddled nervously with the napkin on her lap. How she hated these things?
Lange looked around at the assembled officers. "Well, we won't stand too much on ceremony. I hope you all enjoy the dinner."
As Lange spoke the waiters came out and started serving drinks.
OFF:
A JP By:
Captain James Lange
Commanding Officer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
Task Force 22, Horizon Fleet
Chief Petty Officer Kilana Nira
Captain's Yeoman, Chief of the Boat, Acting CEO
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
Lt. Rhys Monroe
Chief of Flight Control
USS Sentinel
Lieutenant JG Blake Daggerd
Chief Tactical Officer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
Lieutenant Megan Garrett
Chief Operations Officer
USS Sentinel, NCC-74673
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC 38897-B
Lieutenant, jg Trayven Roh
Chief Ops Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Lieutenant JG Jonathan "Jack" Hawkins
Acting Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Doctor (Lt.) Cameron Fairbairn
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche
NCC-38897-B
Lieutenant Jacob "Jake" Quaid
Chief Flight Control Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
&
The Transporter Room of the Sentinel shimmered into existence as Isabel and the first group of Senior Staff transported over from the Malinche. Captain Lange, Chief Petty Officer Nira, and a few others were there to greet them. Isabel smiled as she stepped off the transporter pad. "Good evening, Captain Lange."
"Welcome aboard, Captain Kersare," Lange replied as he extended his hand. "I'll dispense with the usual introductions since we were all introduced at the briefing."
She took his hand and nodded, "Thank you Captain. Actually I do have a new Chief Operations Officer, Lieutenant JG Trayven Roh, who is joining us, but otherwise, as you said, we were introduced at the briefing."
Quaid looked around the Sentinel's Transporter Room; it was almost identical to the Transporter Room he just beamed from. Luckily he managed to find his dress uniform, the unfortunate thing was that it was rather constricting around the collar.
He noticed the small welcoming committee as soon as he materialized and politely nodded in their direction as Captain's Kersare and Lange began the evening's conversations. He stepped of the Transporter Pad and stood to Kersare's left as they awaited the remaining members of their party.
Arriving with the Captain and the others, Trayven was still fiddling with his dress uniform. How he hated official functions. Not that he had been to many of them. They were usually reserved for Captains and their designees. And of that he was oh so glad, but this was no ordinary official function. This was meeting with the crew of another ship to further discuss their joint mission. He wondered which one of them was their COO. There were too many yellow shirts to distinguish between them. But he was sure that they would be introduced at a later time, so Tray just melted into the background.
Rhys was biting his tongue fiercely to not say anything, even under his breath, about what he was thinking. Partly is was a sense of personal pride? he had come to think the crew of the Sentinel could handle anything, without help? he still wasn't convinced this other crew would be a good partnering, but for the sake of being the bigger person, faked his smile.
Peters felt the familiar tingling sensation of rematerialization as the Sentinel's transporter room came into view. He stepped off the transporter platform and stepped to one side to allow those behind him off as well. He could see a handful of personnel from the Sentinel present, as well as everyone from the Malinche.
Lange watched as the second group from the Malinche materialized. As the officers stepped off the pad, he cleared his throat. "If I may have everyone's attention... As your host this evening, I'd like to welcome you all aboard the Sentinel on behalf of myself and my senior staff."
Kilana smiled as the Malinche's Senior Staff arrived and James began with the formalities. The dinner would be a good experience, in her opinion. The two crews would be working together, so being able to interact in a more relaxed setting to start things off would be nice.
'I sound like a tour guide,' Lange thought to himself before continuing. "Our dinner this evening will be a truly multi-cultural experience. We'll begin with Bajoran Hasperat as an appetizer, followed by a Vulcan garden salad, with a main course of Lasagna. Dessert will be your option of I'danian Spice Pudding or Uttaberry crepes. Drinks are anything you want, though I do recommend the Raktajino and the Aldebaran Whiskey."
It seemed that James and the Sentinel crew were thorough at the very least. A good assortment of various foods was a good idea, in Isabel's opinion. Hopefully everything would go well, at least tonight...there was no telling how things would go during the mission, though she tried to put that out of her mind for the time being.
Listening to the menu, Rhys's ears picked up on the word Lasagna? mmmm?. Cheeeeese.
Peters listened as Lange rattled off the menu for the dinner. He found the selections very interesting. It was certainly a varied selection of foods from different cultures. He'd personally never had Uttaberry crepes.
The menu wasn't exactly what Quaid was hoping for but he figured that the crews would be too busy getting acquainted and talking about the impending mission rather than eating.
"We'll start with dinner," Lange continued, "And then after dinner those of you that wish can stay for an informal meet and greet in the lounge area of the mess hall. If you want to play any games or partake in other entertainment that is allowed as long as the materials can come from the replicator and it's kept clean."
That drew a few chuckles.
Raising an eyebrow, Kilana looked over at James. She hadn't totally realized that games would be involved as well, though the Lounge area and replicators were more than capable of handling it. Could be interesting to see what games people decided to play...
Again, Quaid felt uncomfortable. He knew how to have fun, he was a lover of extreme sports, poker and even Holonovels, but he also knew that there was a tine and a place for such things and it was at that moment that he was extra thankful for the 'escape clause' Kersare had given him.
'Games?' Rhys thought. Perhaps this evening could be productive, then? finding a worthy Uno adversary on the other ship. Oh, yes. This would be good.
Peters didn't know if he'd be in the mood for games after dinner or not, but he was sure he could use the chance to get to know the Sentinel's senior officers. He certainly wanted to get acquainted with Chief Nira as their departments would have to work together to a certain extent during the mission.
"If you'll all follow me, we'll be on our way to the Mess Hall." Lange turned and stepped out through the doors into the corridor. He waited for everyone to enter the corridor before continuing on his way towards the nearest turbolift access. They'd need to send at least three different groups via the turbolift, but it was better than asking everyone to go via emergency stairs or Jeffries Tubes.
Jack materialized a few minutes late in the empty Intrepid classes transporter room, his expression prompting the operator to point down the corridor. Jack nodded his thanks and jogged down the corridor towards his fellow officers, arriving just as the turbolift doors slid open.
Not being of the forefront of the senior staff, Cameron Fairbairn had deliberately allowed himself to be slightly late and find the opportunity to 'slink in' amongst his peers unnoticed. Not that he disliked formal meet and greets, he was just carrying a lot of weight upon his mind, Tupalov for one thing, probably just coming to his senses in holosuite 1 with an extra course of adrenaline swimming through his systems. Sometimes being a Doctor could be stressful, sometimes rewarding. Today had been particularly busy and particularly stressful. Provided he could join the Sentinel's resident Medicine Chief he would be able to discuss emergency plans for survivors.
He received a sharp stare of confusion from the transporter chief - Cameron was not wearing his dress uniform. Instead he had opted for a fresh and neatly folded duty uniform which was still a step up from his usual choice of jacket and teal undershirt. Duty uniforms were uncomfortable enough, dress uniforms another thing. Besides he was a Doctor - not an officer - despite the pips on his collar. Smiling politely the PO behind the transporter unit gestured down the hallway and casually explained the dinner would be held in the mess and with a curt smile in return he exited the transporter bay and made his way to the nearest turbolift.
Lieutenant Blake Daggerd was scurrying through the corridors having hastily thrown on his dress uniform and darted out of his quarters. He knew that he would not make it to the Transporter Room in time to greet the Malinche's crew members but he hoped to still beat them to the mess hall. Little did he know was that as he sped to the mess hall he would run into the group of Malinche and Sentinel crew he was trying to beat. Once he turned the corner and saw them he took a moment to compose himself and joined the group. Since he had missed the formal greeting he decided to quietly join the crowd after nodding to Captain Lange and his fellow crew as they passed.
Lange quirked an eyebrow at Daggerd's impromptu arrival. He merely returned the lieutenant's nod, however, and motioned the first group into the turbolift. "Deck 2, Mess Hall," Lange said and the turbolift slid shut to take the first batch to their destination.
<Sentinel's Mess Hall, 10 minutes later>
As the group reached the Mess Hall, Kilana turned around and smiled, "Here we are." Stepping aside, she let the others enter the room, smiling as they passed her. Hopefully everything would go well.
As the large group of officers entered the Mess Hall, Megan tried to casually blend in as best as possible. Her goal was to get out of here as soon as she could manage to slip away. She knew she was as good as stuck for the duration of the meal, pending some sort of emergency, but at least she would be getting supper tonight?
Isabel nodded to Kilana and stepped through the door. On one side, some tables had been pushed together to create one long banquet table. Intricately decorated paneling was along the bulkheads. On the other side of the room, some chairs and couches were grouped in a lounge area - presumably for after the meal. She headed to the table and chose a seat, standing behind it.
Lange took a seat at one end of the table, allowing the rest of his crew to sit where they would. He'd considered having placecards, but decided that everyone was old enough to find a seat without squabbling. Plus, he hoped that allowing random placement might make some more random groupsings of personnel so that his officers might get acquainted with some of the Malinche crewmembers they otherwise wouldn't have spoken to much.
Once everyone had walked in, Kilana followed, her eyes quickly scanning the room. She was glad to see that there were enough seats for everyone, even with a few extra people. The Executive Officer and 2XO seemed to be on their way to take a seat on either side of James, so she found a seat further down, across from the Malinche's Chief Engineering Officer.
Peters nodded to Nira as she took the place across from him. It seemed he wouldn't have to wait until after dinner to speak with her. That might make it easier to coordinate their plans for having the two engineering staffs work together.
As Captain Lange moved towards the table, Lieutenant Garrett realized that as the second officer, she should probably be sitting either next to the Captain or on the other side of the first officer. She?d rather have been somewhere inconspicuous, like in the middle, but duty called. Considering the personality of the first officer, Megan decided the evening would be more pleasant, if not a bit more difficult to remain unnoticed, if she was seated next to the Captain, so she took a seat to his left across from the first officer.
Lange sat down as soon as his XO and 2XO joined him at his end of the table, thus prompting everyone else who'd been standing to also take their seats.
Trayven Roh sat down at the end of the table trying to stay out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind, he said to himself. He wondered when he was going to get to meet the Sentinel's Ops officer. As he scanned the table, his eyes stopped on a woman in a yellow uniform. He had found her and he was so excited about collaborating with her soon.
As Megan scanned the group, she mentally rehearsed putting the names with the faces, so as not to embarrass herself unduly. She recognized everyone and remembered everyone?s name, save one, a short, dark haired man in an ops/engineering dress uniform. And he was looking right at her.
Quickly realizing that with the positions of Chief Engineer and Chief Tactical/Security officer filled, this could only be the Chief of Operations. But if that was the case, why hadn?t he been at the meeting, or on the manifest, or mentioned? He had to be new, and they would, therefore, be working closely together. Sending him a very quick smile, Megan glanced at Captain Lange, trying to appear intent on whatever it was he was talking about while her hands fiddled nervously with the napkin on her lap. How she hated these things?
Lange looked around at the assembled officers. "Well, we won't stand too much on ceremony. I hope you all enjoy the dinner."
As Lange spoke the waiters came out and started serving drinks.
OFF:
A JP By:
Captain James Lange
Commanding Officer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
Task Force 22, Horizon Fleet
Chief Petty Officer Kilana Nira
Captain's Yeoman, Chief of the Boat, Acting CEO
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
Lt. Rhys Monroe
Chief of Flight Control
USS Sentinel
Lieutenant JG Blake Daggerd
Chief Tactical Officer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
Lieutenant Megan Garrett
Chief Operations Officer
USS Sentinel, NCC-74673
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC 38897-B
Lieutenant, jg Trayven Roh
Chief Ops Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Lieutenant JG Jonathan "Jack" Hawkins
Acting Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
Doctor (Lt.) Cameron Fairbairn
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche
NCC-38897-B
Lieutenant Jacob "Jake" Quaid
Chief Flight Control Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
&
Tony
AKA
Lieutenant Commander Todd Peters
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
<USS Malinche Main Engineering, 1845, MD01>
Turuas'ta was glad that the evening remained uneventful while the senior officers were off the ship. During a break, he retrieved his environment suit from the equipment locker where he'd stashed it after coming aboard Malinche.
As an aurelian, Akios couldn't quite wear the standard Starfleet environment suit. If he had to, he could use an emergency environment suit, which was designed to be much more adjustable, but even then it was uncomfortable, with his wings folded tightly against his back and his primary feathers stuffed down into the suit's legs.
Starfleet had modified designs for the various less-humanoid races that served in the fleet, but since aurelians were so uncommon in the service, it was to be expected that a ship wouldn't have an aurelian-configured suit aboard until after an aurelian was aboard.
That had been the situation aboard the Andromeda, Akios's first ship. After the first time he'd had to do external repairs in an emergency EVA suit, he'd made replicating a modified suit a priority. When he'd left Andromeda, he'd been able to take the suit with him, and he'd kept it ever since.
He hadn't used the suit for a few months, and it was due to be serviced. Fortunately, with things as quiet as they were, he was able to work on it without neglecting his duties. When he was done he stowed it again, making sure it was recorded in the ship's equipment manifest.
Turuas'ta was glad that the evening remained uneventful while the senior officers were off the ship. During a break, he retrieved his environment suit from the equipment locker where he'd stashed it after coming aboard Malinche.
As an aurelian, Akios couldn't quite wear the standard Starfleet environment suit. If he had to, he could use an emergency environment suit, which was designed to be much more adjustable, but even then it was uncomfortable, with his wings folded tightly against his back and his primary feathers stuffed down into the suit's legs.
Starfleet had modified designs for the various less-humanoid races that served in the fleet, but since aurelians were so uncommon in the service, it was to be expected that a ship wouldn't have an aurelian-configured suit aboard until after an aurelian was aboard.
That had been the situation aboard the Andromeda, Akios's first ship. After the first time he'd had to do external repairs in an emergency EVA suit, he'd made replicating a modified suit a priority. When he'd left Andromeda, he'd been able to take the suit with him, and he'd kept it ever since.
He hadn't used the suit for a few months, and it was due to be serviced. Fortunately, with things as quiet as they were, he was able to work on it without neglecting his duties. When he was done he stowed it again, making sure it was recorded in the ship's equipment manifest.
Ensign Turuas'ta Akios
Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
-
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:
ON:
<USS Malinche-B>>
<Bridge-Intel Station, 1800 Hours, MD01>
It was somewhat quiet on the bridge for the most part of Sara's shift, she managed to get permission to take a tiny break durring the first half of the shift so she could replicate a herbal tea for herself. She figured someone was taking a bit of pity on her today. Things continued to go along just fine after that atleast until someone called in on the comm about somekind of lifeform taking over his quarters. It was at that moment things got to be a bit more lively, though Sara had a strange feeling this had something to do with the tension between Hawkins and the COB Tupalov.
Seeing that just about everyone on the bridge was busy with this new event, Sara took the time to take a look at the internal sensors in the region of the COB's Quarters. After getting a good look at what she saw, Sara realised exactly what that so called "lifeform" was and she rolled her eyes. "Why couldn't he have just messed with the gravity settings in that room." She muttered to herself. "Of all the things to do, he had to go and plant a garden."
Sara took a moment to look around then covertly tapped into the ship's comm system so she could give Hawkins a heads up, even if he was onboard the Sentinel by now. Sara made sure her message was encrypted and routed all through the ship till it reached the Pheonix Dawn then she sent it from there to the Sentinel with a signal imbeded to by-pass the normal communication protocol and go directly to Hawkins unnoticed by anyone else onboard the Sentinel. It was a text message which was auto-translated into Sara's voice and said the following.
"Hawkings, I don't know exactly all of what you did to Tupalov's quarters but it backfired. The COB just called a Red Alert about some "lifeform" taking over his quarters. I don't think that was the best place for planting a garden. Though I think this has really killed the boredom on the bridge, it was way too quiet. Just figured I would let you know what happened, since I think its part of my job as your "assistant" to inform you of these things. Hope you can figure out a excuse for this. Good luck."
With the message sent Sara quickly severed the connection and went back to what she had been doing previously. "What a way to spend the rest of a shift."
OFF: Tag Hawkins.
<USS Malinche-B>>
<Bridge-Intel Station, 1800 Hours, MD01>
It was somewhat quiet on the bridge for the most part of Sara's shift, she managed to get permission to take a tiny break durring the first half of the shift so she could replicate a herbal tea for herself. She figured someone was taking a bit of pity on her today. Things continued to go along just fine after that atleast until someone called in on the comm about somekind of lifeform taking over his quarters. It was at that moment things got to be a bit more lively, though Sara had a strange feeling this had something to do with the tension between Hawkins and the COB Tupalov.
Seeing that just about everyone on the bridge was busy with this new event, Sara took the time to take a look at the internal sensors in the region of the COB's Quarters. After getting a good look at what she saw, Sara realised exactly what that so called "lifeform" was and she rolled her eyes. "Why couldn't he have just messed with the gravity settings in that room." She muttered to herself. "Of all the things to do, he had to go and plant a garden."
Sara took a moment to look around then covertly tapped into the ship's comm system so she could give Hawkins a heads up, even if he was onboard the Sentinel by now. Sara made sure her message was encrypted and routed all through the ship till it reached the Pheonix Dawn then she sent it from there to the Sentinel with a signal imbeded to by-pass the normal communication protocol and go directly to Hawkins unnoticed by anyone else onboard the Sentinel. It was a text message which was auto-translated into Sara's voice and said the following.
"Hawkings, I don't know exactly all of what you did to Tupalov's quarters but it backfired. The COB just called a Red Alert about some "lifeform" taking over his quarters. I don't think that was the best place for planting a garden. Though I think this has really killed the boredom on the bridge, it was way too quiet. Just figured I would let you know what happened, since I think its part of my job as your "assistant" to inform you of these things. Hope you can figure out a excuse for this. Good luck."
With the message sent Sara quickly severed the connection and went back to what she had been doing previously. "What a way to spend the rest of a shift."
OFF: Tag Hawkins.
Ensign Sara Rayne
Acting Assistant Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Malinche-B NCC-38897-B
"Beware The Penguins!"
ON: <<USS Malinche, 1830. Day One. Bridge.>>
?Shall I inform the Captain?? The duty officer asked Marco as he stepped onto the turbolift. He returned with a frown, it was the officer who was supposed to make the decision in the CO?s absence, not his, though Marco was grateful for the respect shown; there were at least some officers who knew when to just stand the hell aside and let someone with more experience take over.
?No.? Marco said, waiving a hand dismissively. ?Security?? he enquired.
?En? no, sorry, they?re there now Chief? Replied the Security Officer, Marco tried to hide the grin that was surely forming on his face.
He raised his eyebrows questioningly, waiting for an update. ?Put them on.? He ordered.
??to be some kind of plant life?? the comm. feed cut in mid-sentence. ?Not sentient, it?s cress sir, an Earth-based plant.?
Marco feigned surprise. ?Stand down red alert.? He ordered. ?Have that room cleared of the plant, I?ll be in the mess.? He shook his head and walked into the turbolift, leaving the bridge crew wondering what a loony Chief they had, calling red alert for watercress. Of course, now there was something official on-record, it?d have to be explained to Kersare, which meant Hawkins explaining what the hell he was playing at.
<<25 Minutes later. Outside Hawkins? quarters>>
?Impregnate my carpet with cress?I?ll bloody do yours?? Marco muttered, keying in an override key on the Lieutenants door. The panel chirped back at him as he failed to unlock it. He tried again, and the chirp seemed to only get louder a second time.
?Damn? he hissed, placing the item on the floor. He tapped his comm. badge. ?Tupalov to maintenance. I need today?s code for Leftenant Hawkins? quarters.?
The codes, one-time only codes that were changed daily, could still be used until 2359 ? and since he had diverted the maintenance crew today, the code should still be active.
?Alpha Gamma Tango.? Came the reply.
?Alpha?Gamma?.Tango?? Tupalov repeated as he keyed it in, grinning as the doors parted. He picked the item back up, and stepped inside, moving quickly to the centre of the room he looked around and rolled his eyes cynically. ?Bloody?what?? he mumbled, gawking at the ridiculous size of the place ? in the space of one spiffed up Lieutenant, he could house a good 20 rankers.
He grimaced and gagged as he removed the item from its container, he was lucky he?d got to it before the mess staff had disposed of it. One Earth haddock, pureed after Marco had gotten to it, accidentally left out for a few days ? Marco went to the mess hoping for a fresh fish, it was nothing short of a godsend that he?d found one already gone off. Improvising with a handy Cardassian cooking device he?d looked for a found ? working on a similar principle to a hypospray ? he loaded it with the pureed fish and injected a burst into the carpet.
It was designed to surge stocks and purees into large meats ? usually the whole dead animal still ? and as such it delivered the liquid in such a way that it spread a good 30cm. Marco moved quickly, putting a few bursts in the carpet, one in the main material frame of the couch, before hurrying over to the bed ? he lifted the mattress and put the final burst in the underside.
Marco got back to the container and picked it up, clearing the device of the liquid as he walked out by injecting it into the air, the last few high pressure drops sprayed into the air and drifted to the floor. ?Damn!? he swore, forgetting that Hawkins had a whole closet full of uniforms.
He shook off his sudden realisation and hurried off of the deck quickly, happy in the knowledge that the smell would only get worse, and Hawkins would quite possibly not realise he?d need to change the whole carpet? and the bed.
He shook his head disapprovingly as a young man hurried past him, still sporting a large D on his chest.
OFF
?Shall I inform the Captain?? The duty officer asked Marco as he stepped onto the turbolift. He returned with a frown, it was the officer who was supposed to make the decision in the CO?s absence, not his, though Marco was grateful for the respect shown; there were at least some officers who knew when to just stand the hell aside and let someone with more experience take over.
?No.? Marco said, waiving a hand dismissively. ?Security?? he enquired.
?En? no, sorry, they?re there now Chief? Replied the Security Officer, Marco tried to hide the grin that was surely forming on his face.
He raised his eyebrows questioningly, waiting for an update. ?Put them on.? He ordered.
??to be some kind of plant life?? the comm. feed cut in mid-sentence. ?Not sentient, it?s cress sir, an Earth-based plant.?
Marco feigned surprise. ?Stand down red alert.? He ordered. ?Have that room cleared of the plant, I?ll be in the mess.? He shook his head and walked into the turbolift, leaving the bridge crew wondering what a loony Chief they had, calling red alert for watercress. Of course, now there was something official on-record, it?d have to be explained to Kersare, which meant Hawkins explaining what the hell he was playing at.
<<25 Minutes later. Outside Hawkins? quarters>>
?Impregnate my carpet with cress?I?ll bloody do yours?? Marco muttered, keying in an override key on the Lieutenants door. The panel chirped back at him as he failed to unlock it. He tried again, and the chirp seemed to only get louder a second time.
?Damn? he hissed, placing the item on the floor. He tapped his comm. badge. ?Tupalov to maintenance. I need today?s code for Leftenant Hawkins? quarters.?
The codes, one-time only codes that were changed daily, could still be used until 2359 ? and since he had diverted the maintenance crew today, the code should still be active.
?Alpha Gamma Tango.? Came the reply.
?Alpha?Gamma?.Tango?? Tupalov repeated as he keyed it in, grinning as the doors parted. He picked the item back up, and stepped inside, moving quickly to the centre of the room he looked around and rolled his eyes cynically. ?Bloody?what?? he mumbled, gawking at the ridiculous size of the place ? in the space of one spiffed up Lieutenant, he could house a good 20 rankers.
He grimaced and gagged as he removed the item from its container, he was lucky he?d got to it before the mess staff had disposed of it. One Earth haddock, pureed after Marco had gotten to it, accidentally left out for a few days ? Marco went to the mess hoping for a fresh fish, it was nothing short of a godsend that he?d found one already gone off. Improvising with a handy Cardassian cooking device he?d looked for a found ? working on a similar principle to a hypospray ? he loaded it with the pureed fish and injected a burst into the carpet.
It was designed to surge stocks and purees into large meats ? usually the whole dead animal still ? and as such it delivered the liquid in such a way that it spread a good 30cm. Marco moved quickly, putting a few bursts in the carpet, one in the main material frame of the couch, before hurrying over to the bed ? he lifted the mattress and put the final burst in the underside.
Marco got back to the container and picked it up, clearing the device of the liquid as he walked out by injecting it into the air, the last few high pressure drops sprayed into the air and drifted to the floor. ?Damn!? he swore, forgetting that Hawkins had a whole closet full of uniforms.
He shook off his sudden realisation and hurried off of the deck quickly, happy in the knowledge that the smell would only get worse, and Hawkins would quite possibly not realise he?d need to change the whole carpet? and the bed.
He shook his head disapprovingly as a young man hurried past him, still sporting a large D on his chest.
OFF
Warrant Officer First Class Marco Tupalov
Chief Flight Control Officer
U.S.S Malinche
-
Peters
- Senior Staff
- Posts: 202
- Joined: Mon Mar 20, 2006 2:17 pm
- Location: Space, the final frontier...
- Contact:
ON: <USS Sentinel Mess Hall, 1835, Day 1>
"Yes, I'll take an Altarian Glow Water," Peters told the waiter who'd come to take his drink order. He looked across the table and saw that Nira had just finished giving her order to another waiter. He smiled at her.
"So, I'm trying to figure out how you manage three jobs on this ship," he said conversationally.
Kilana raised an eyebrow and looked over at Todd, "I'm still figuring that out myself. I was just appointed as Acting Chief Engineer yesterday."
"Ah, so you've been managing the two jobs for awhile, I take it?"
Once the waiter produced her drink, Kilana picked it up and walked over to the Malinche's Chief Engineer, "Yes. I actually started out in Engineering - even before Starfleet, then, long story short, the ship I was on was in more need of a Captain's Yeoman. Or so I was told. Anyway, here I am."
"Very interesting. I actually started out in science myself. Minored in Engineering theory at the Academy, though... and then one of the ships I was on took a direct hit to the Engineering section, killing most of the Engineering staff, so I volunteered." Peters drink had also arrived and he took a sip of it. He still wasn't totally used to the vivid green-ish blue sheen that the water held, but it tasted good.
"And you've been in Engineering since then?" Kilana took a sip of her drink.
"Pretty much, yes. My first posting as Chief Engineer was on Starbase 60. I'm still getting used to the Malinche's... unique systems."
"You mean the Prometheus class in general... and the MVAM? Or is there something even more unique about her?" The half Bajoran hadn't heard anything about the Malinche having further modifications, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.
"Mostly the Prometheus class and MVAM... but the Malinche's had to have some jury-rigging done the past couple of missions due to damage. And then I have a suspicion that one of my newer people is trying to make some modifications to his quarters." Peters shook his head. "If I didn't know better I'd think he was adding his own transporter or something."
Kilana raised an eyebrow, "A transporter in his quarters? Have you spoken to him about this?"
"No. I don't think it's actually a transporter. That I think I'd have noticed. Might be a replicator... which I could understand... the Prometheus is one of a very small group of ships in the fleet that doesn't have replicators in all crew quarters. But it could just be some personal experiment. The man... well, bird... is a genius when it comes to engineering theory and its applications."
"Bird?" She hesitated. Though she'd heard of Aurelians, Kilana had not actually met one. Off the top of her head she couldn't think of any other bird-type races.
"Yeah, he's an Aurelian," Peters replied. "Tends to eat a lot of high-sugar foods at really frequent intervals. Can't fault his work ethic, though."
Kilana nodded, "Can't say I've had the opportunity to work with one before. Sounds like a good officer though. So how long have you been with the Malinche?"
"One mission and counting. How long have you been with the Sentinel?" Peters replied.
She laughed, "The same. Kidnapped by the Iotians, actually."
Peters winced, "Ouch. And all I've done so far is wander around aimlessly on Direidi, have my new ship critically damaged, and have a rogue officer sabotage it."
Kilana nodded her head slowly, silently. It figured. "I'd say I was surprised, but really I'm not. Being in Starfleet you certainly see the most bizarre, unbelievable things...not to mention that if something could go wrong, it usually does. And being Engineers, we get to fix it."
"Naturally." Peters nodded to the waiter as he set the appetizers on the table. "If we didn't, no one would."
"Oh, they'd try to, then we'd have to clean up the mess. Luckily, I've not run into that yet. But it is my first day officially as Acting Chief," Kilana replied.
Peters picked up a piece of the Hasperat and chewed on it thoughtfully. It was a bit spicier than his usual preference, but well within his tolerances for hot food. Plus it would keep his stomach from growling until the actual food was served. "You have a point. I just hope I don't have to draft too many people into damage control anytime soon."
Kilana nodded, "Me either. A friend of mine is currently the Sentinel's Damage Control Officer, and several others have experience with it, so hopefully we'll be fine. It'll just depend on what exactly we run into on this mission."
"I suppose it will," Peters replied as the salad course was brought out. "Looks like it's time to eat."
"Yes it does," she smiled as her food was put in front of her.
Peters picked up his fork and took a bite of salad before remembering that he needed to talk with Nira about getting some of the Sentinel's engineering staff introductions to the Prometheus class systems. They'd talk about that over dinner, he supposed.
OFF:
A Joint Post With:
Chief Petty Officer Kilana Nira
Chief of the Boat, Captain's Yeoman, & Acting Chief Engineer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
"Yes, I'll take an Altarian Glow Water," Peters told the waiter who'd come to take his drink order. He looked across the table and saw that Nira had just finished giving her order to another waiter. He smiled at her.
"So, I'm trying to figure out how you manage three jobs on this ship," he said conversationally.
Kilana raised an eyebrow and looked over at Todd, "I'm still figuring that out myself. I was just appointed as Acting Chief Engineer yesterday."
"Ah, so you've been managing the two jobs for awhile, I take it?"
Once the waiter produced her drink, Kilana picked it up and walked over to the Malinche's Chief Engineer, "Yes. I actually started out in Engineering - even before Starfleet, then, long story short, the ship I was on was in more need of a Captain's Yeoman. Or so I was told. Anyway, here I am."
"Very interesting. I actually started out in science myself. Minored in Engineering theory at the Academy, though... and then one of the ships I was on took a direct hit to the Engineering section, killing most of the Engineering staff, so I volunteered." Peters drink had also arrived and he took a sip of it. He still wasn't totally used to the vivid green-ish blue sheen that the water held, but it tasted good.
"And you've been in Engineering since then?" Kilana took a sip of her drink.
"Pretty much, yes. My first posting as Chief Engineer was on Starbase 60. I'm still getting used to the Malinche's... unique systems."
"You mean the Prometheus class in general... and the MVAM? Or is there something even more unique about her?" The half Bajoran hadn't heard anything about the Malinche having further modifications, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.
"Mostly the Prometheus class and MVAM... but the Malinche's had to have some jury-rigging done the past couple of missions due to damage. And then I have a suspicion that one of my newer people is trying to make some modifications to his quarters." Peters shook his head. "If I didn't know better I'd think he was adding his own transporter or something."
Kilana raised an eyebrow, "A transporter in his quarters? Have you spoken to him about this?"
"No. I don't think it's actually a transporter. That I think I'd have noticed. Might be a replicator... which I could understand... the Prometheus is one of a very small group of ships in the fleet that doesn't have replicators in all crew quarters. But it could just be some personal experiment. The man... well, bird... is a genius when it comes to engineering theory and its applications."
"Bird?" She hesitated. Though she'd heard of Aurelians, Kilana had not actually met one. Off the top of her head she couldn't think of any other bird-type races.
"Yeah, he's an Aurelian," Peters replied. "Tends to eat a lot of high-sugar foods at really frequent intervals. Can't fault his work ethic, though."
Kilana nodded, "Can't say I've had the opportunity to work with one before. Sounds like a good officer though. So how long have you been with the Malinche?"
"One mission and counting. How long have you been with the Sentinel?" Peters replied.
She laughed, "The same. Kidnapped by the Iotians, actually."
Peters winced, "Ouch. And all I've done so far is wander around aimlessly on Direidi, have my new ship critically damaged, and have a rogue officer sabotage it."
Kilana nodded her head slowly, silently. It figured. "I'd say I was surprised, but really I'm not. Being in Starfleet you certainly see the most bizarre, unbelievable things...not to mention that if something could go wrong, it usually does. And being Engineers, we get to fix it."
"Naturally." Peters nodded to the waiter as he set the appetizers on the table. "If we didn't, no one would."
"Oh, they'd try to, then we'd have to clean up the mess. Luckily, I've not run into that yet. But it is my first day officially as Acting Chief," Kilana replied.
Peters picked up a piece of the Hasperat and chewed on it thoughtfully. It was a bit spicier than his usual preference, but well within his tolerances for hot food. Plus it would keep his stomach from growling until the actual food was served. "You have a point. I just hope I don't have to draft too many people into damage control anytime soon."
Kilana nodded, "Me either. A friend of mine is currently the Sentinel's Damage Control Officer, and several others have experience with it, so hopefully we'll be fine. It'll just depend on what exactly we run into on this mission."
"I suppose it will," Peters replied as the salad course was brought out. "Looks like it's time to eat."
"Yes it does," she smiled as her food was put in front of her.
Peters picked up his fork and took a bite of salad before remembering that he needed to talk with Nira about getting some of the Sentinel's engineering staff introductions to the Prometheus class systems. They'd talk about that over dinner, he supposed.
OFF:
A Joint Post With:
Chief Petty Officer Kilana Nira
Chief of the Boat, Captain's Yeoman, & Acting Chief Engineer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
Tony
AKA
Lieutenant Commander Todd Peters
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
<USS Sentinel, Mess Hall, 1854>
Jack made his excuses to leave the table when his PADD beeped for the second time, he had waited till the gap between courses and claimed it was a report he was awaiting from Starfleet Intelligence.
He checked the first message, a lovely shot of a very confused Chief of the Boat, the second a message from Rayne, Jack was a little surprised the chief would call a red alert and distract the bridge crew with?cress, but had to smile at the thought.
He knew there would no doubt be pay back from Tupalov and punishment from the Captain, but it was only a prank, hardly a Court Martial-able offense, and the look on the chiefs face was priceless. He made note to thank Rayne for the heads up and turned to head back through the mess hall doors.
Thus far the dinner had be uneventful, he had never been one for all the pomp and circumstance that these meals require, and had so far managed to just sit quietly and occasionally contribute to small talk, he?d be glad to get out of his dress uniform when all was said and done?
Jack made his excuses to leave the table when his PADD beeped for the second time, he had waited till the gap between courses and claimed it was a report he was awaiting from Starfleet Intelligence.
He checked the first message, a lovely shot of a very confused Chief of the Boat, the second a message from Rayne, Jack was a little surprised the chief would call a red alert and distract the bridge crew with?cress, but had to smile at the thought.
He knew there would no doubt be pay back from Tupalov and punishment from the Captain, but it was only a prank, hardly a Court Martial-able offense, and the look on the chiefs face was priceless. He made note to thank Rayne for the heads up and turned to head back through the mess hall doors.
Thus far the dinner had be uneventful, he had never been one for all the pomp and circumstance that these meals require, and had so far managed to just sit quietly and occasionally contribute to small talk, he?d be glad to get out of his dress uniform when all was said and done?
Lieutenant Jonathan "Jack" Hawkins
Acting Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
-
Starbase 386 Crew
- Posts: 105
- Joined: Sun Jul 01, 2007 11:38 pm
- Location: Starbase 386
<USS Sentinel Mess Hall, 1927, Day 1>
As Megan glanced around the room sipping on her drink, her only thought was to get out of there as soon as possible. Unfortunately, she doubted that would look good, so she decided to hang around for a little bit longer. Fortunately, she spotted the officer she thought to be the new Chief of Operations officer across the room. If she was going to have to stay, she supposed she could at least get some work done, so she headed towards him.
Tray was hating this little meet and greet. He hated all of this silly posturing but he realized it was necessary. He took another quick look around the room and spotted their COO looking at him. So he got up from his seat and made his way to her. He hoped he wasn't making a mistake by doing this.
He stopped at her seat and extended his right hand and said, "I am Lieutenant Trayven Roh, the operations officer of the USS Malinche and you are?"
Smiling politely up at him, glad that he was indeed the Chief of Operations, Megan shook his offered hand and replied, "Lieutenant Megan Garrett, Chief of Operations here on the Sentinel." Smiling slightly, she added, "It looks like the two of us will be working together."
"Indeed it does. This is my first go at the Chief of Operations post," Tray said, his eyes glistening in the light of the room. He was glad she was the Sentinel's COO and not some engineer or security officer. But he always had a great intuition for this.
"It's mine as well. Before this, I was a science officer, but fortunately I have engineering qualifications. I was on another Intrepid class ship before this assignment, so fortunately I'm very familiar with its systems, although every ship is different." He seemed nice. Maybe this working together thing wouldn't be so bad after all.
"My background is in Tactical Operations but since my ship got decommissioned, I decided to opt for another venue and joined the crew on the Malinche," Trayven said. He offered for them to leave the mess hall. He wanted to get in as much work as possible.
Grateful that he seemed as eager to work as she was, Megan smiled genuinely for what felt like the first time since she'd entered the Mess Hall. "That sounds perfect." she said, as she stood, immediately becoming aware of the fact that she was a good half a foot taller than he was. She winced inwardly. "There always had to be some sort of catch..." she thought, as they moved towards the doors.
Tray followed her thinking that her height would be a problem but was determined to give a try. "Lieutenant, what data do you have on the other ship do you have that we don't possess?" Trayven asked. He was so glad to be out of the Mess Hall, so happy that he could ease up on his mental shields. But he didn't ease up so much that he could read her mind.
"I probably know as much as you do. Nothing too elaborate. I'm more concerned with getting our ships as ready as possible for any potential confrontation with the Borg. Would you agree?" she asked. Megan hadn't even considered the other ship much, especially after the Borg had been mentioned. She should have done more research...
"Well, I think that if the Borg were actually in the vicinity they would have made their presence known by now. Do you know that I have yet to make to the Bridge of my ship to get familiarized with the Operations post?" The minute he said that, he knew that he had given her more ammunition to belittle him with. He wished he could take it back.
She could tell by the look on his face that he hadn?t wanted to say that, but she knew exactly what he meant. ?I know exactly what you mean. I?ve only had one shift on the bridge so far. I?ve spent most of my time in the Ops Office, trying to familiarize myself with the ship as much as possible.?
"And as for the Borg, it seems strange to me that they were involved in this at all. Still, anytime there's even a chance at dealing with them, I feel the need to be extra ready. I've been going over any and all data I've managed to find for information on how best to prepare for a confrontation with them. I'm hoping we can make some adjustments en route whether they're needed or not."
"Always a good idea. But let me pose a question to you: Why would the Borg be even the slightest bit interested in the technology one could find on an Nova-class vessel? But that just puts me in the mindset of a tactical view of things. I've been meaning to ask the Captain if I could speak with our CTO just to give him advice."
Trayven knew that he had to get out of the tactical mindset and into the scientific viewpoint. He knew that this would be the hardest thing to do but he thought back to his time on the Damocles. Roh had some interesting ideas from those days. Lieutenant Glavo had so much more expertise in Ops than he did.
That was something Megan understood entirely. She'd often had to struggle to stay within her field as well as not give away too much of her expertise unless needed. "I honestly don't know what the Borg would want out of any of this. As I said, it seems strange they're involved."
"Still, the part of the briefing that concerned me the most was when Captain Kersare said that the Borg were on the edge of sensor range and appeared to be distracted by something else. To me, that indicates there might be something else going on that we know nothing about. We need to prepare as much for the unknown as the known, and right now, the Borg are part of what is known."
"Agreed," Trayven said. "I say we have to prepare for anything that could come at us. I believe if the Borg are out there focused on something else, they could interested in our technology. And I agree with you, that we need to be prepared for them at any turn."
"Good." Megan replied, smiling again as they entered the Ops office. "I've started making some upgrades and changes on the Sentinel, but I haven't gotten to everything yet. I've started a list. Maybe between the two of us we can add some more items to it and get started on implementation."
It felt good to work with someone who was on the same page. He appeared to know what he was doing, which was always a good thing. And the fact that he had tactical background was a bonus under the circumstances. Between the two of them, the Sentinel and Malinche should be well prepared for almost anything.
Joint Post By:
Lieutenant JG Trayven Roh
Chief Ops Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
And
_________________
Lieutenant Megan Garrett
Chief Operations Officer
USS Sentinel, NCC-74673
As Megan glanced around the room sipping on her drink, her only thought was to get out of there as soon as possible. Unfortunately, she doubted that would look good, so she decided to hang around for a little bit longer. Fortunately, she spotted the officer she thought to be the new Chief of Operations officer across the room. If she was going to have to stay, she supposed she could at least get some work done, so she headed towards him.
Tray was hating this little meet and greet. He hated all of this silly posturing but he realized it was necessary. He took another quick look around the room and spotted their COO looking at him. So he got up from his seat and made his way to her. He hoped he wasn't making a mistake by doing this.
He stopped at her seat and extended his right hand and said, "I am Lieutenant Trayven Roh, the operations officer of the USS Malinche and you are?"
Smiling politely up at him, glad that he was indeed the Chief of Operations, Megan shook his offered hand and replied, "Lieutenant Megan Garrett, Chief of Operations here on the Sentinel." Smiling slightly, she added, "It looks like the two of us will be working together."
"Indeed it does. This is my first go at the Chief of Operations post," Tray said, his eyes glistening in the light of the room. He was glad she was the Sentinel's COO and not some engineer or security officer. But he always had a great intuition for this.
"It's mine as well. Before this, I was a science officer, but fortunately I have engineering qualifications. I was on another Intrepid class ship before this assignment, so fortunately I'm very familiar with its systems, although every ship is different." He seemed nice. Maybe this working together thing wouldn't be so bad after all.
"My background is in Tactical Operations but since my ship got decommissioned, I decided to opt for another venue and joined the crew on the Malinche," Trayven said. He offered for them to leave the mess hall. He wanted to get in as much work as possible.
Grateful that he seemed as eager to work as she was, Megan smiled genuinely for what felt like the first time since she'd entered the Mess Hall. "That sounds perfect." she said, as she stood, immediately becoming aware of the fact that she was a good half a foot taller than he was. She winced inwardly. "There always had to be some sort of catch..." she thought, as they moved towards the doors.
Tray followed her thinking that her height would be a problem but was determined to give a try. "Lieutenant, what data do you have on the other ship do you have that we don't possess?" Trayven asked. He was so glad to be out of the Mess Hall, so happy that he could ease up on his mental shields. But he didn't ease up so much that he could read her mind.
"I probably know as much as you do. Nothing too elaborate. I'm more concerned with getting our ships as ready as possible for any potential confrontation with the Borg. Would you agree?" she asked. Megan hadn't even considered the other ship much, especially after the Borg had been mentioned. She should have done more research...
"Well, I think that if the Borg were actually in the vicinity they would have made their presence known by now. Do you know that I have yet to make to the Bridge of my ship to get familiarized with the Operations post?" The minute he said that, he knew that he had given her more ammunition to belittle him with. He wished he could take it back.
She could tell by the look on his face that he hadn?t wanted to say that, but she knew exactly what he meant. ?I know exactly what you mean. I?ve only had one shift on the bridge so far. I?ve spent most of my time in the Ops Office, trying to familiarize myself with the ship as much as possible.?
"And as for the Borg, it seems strange to me that they were involved in this at all. Still, anytime there's even a chance at dealing with them, I feel the need to be extra ready. I've been going over any and all data I've managed to find for information on how best to prepare for a confrontation with them. I'm hoping we can make some adjustments en route whether they're needed or not."
"Always a good idea. But let me pose a question to you: Why would the Borg be even the slightest bit interested in the technology one could find on an Nova-class vessel? But that just puts me in the mindset of a tactical view of things. I've been meaning to ask the Captain if I could speak with our CTO just to give him advice."
Trayven knew that he had to get out of the tactical mindset and into the scientific viewpoint. He knew that this would be the hardest thing to do but he thought back to his time on the Damocles. Roh had some interesting ideas from those days. Lieutenant Glavo had so much more expertise in Ops than he did.
That was something Megan understood entirely. She'd often had to struggle to stay within her field as well as not give away too much of her expertise unless needed. "I honestly don't know what the Borg would want out of any of this. As I said, it seems strange they're involved."
"Still, the part of the briefing that concerned me the most was when Captain Kersare said that the Borg were on the edge of sensor range and appeared to be distracted by something else. To me, that indicates there might be something else going on that we know nothing about. We need to prepare as much for the unknown as the known, and right now, the Borg are part of what is known."
"Agreed," Trayven said. "I say we have to prepare for anything that could come at us. I believe if the Borg are out there focused on something else, they could interested in our technology. And I agree with you, that we need to be prepared for them at any turn."
"Good." Megan replied, smiling again as they entered the Ops office. "I've started making some upgrades and changes on the Sentinel, but I haven't gotten to everything yet. I've started a list. Maybe between the two of us we can add some more items to it and get started on implementation."
It felt good to work with someone who was on the same page. He appeared to know what he was doing, which was always a good thing. And the fact that he had tactical background was a bonus under the circumstances. Between the two of them, the Sentinel and Malinche should be well prepared for almost anything.
Joint Post By:
Lieutenant JG Trayven Roh
Chief Ops Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
And
_________________
Lieutenant Megan Garrett
Chief Operations Officer
USS Sentinel, NCC-74673
This is a post by a member of Starbase 386's Crew
http://starbase386.antoniemey.com/
http://starbase386.antoniemey.com/
<<USS Malinche, Transporter Room, 2002, Day 1>>
Isabel stepped off the transporter pad, glad to be back on her own ship, but a bit disappointed that the gathering was over. It had been nice to socialize with the Sentinel crew and would probably be their last chance for anything resembling fun until the mission was over.
She walked out the door and spotted Mason waiting for her, "Hello Commander."
"Captain, its good to be back on one's own ship. Don't get me wrong the Sentinel is a fine ship but there is no substitute for home." He said. There was a short period of slience where he couldn't look up at her but he took in a deep breath and turned to her, "You know Captain its been such a long time since we really sat down and talked about anything like we used to it seems as if we have become distant strangers then the friends we once were." He said being glad he got that off of his chest.
"Yes, it has been awhile since we've talked. So much seems to be going on already and we're not even really into the mission yet," Isabel said.
He nodded, "That is true but even in any given situation no CO and XO especially us being friends should not let things like this get in the way of talking. I do miss our conversations and staying on the same page even when we do not agree." He said walking along side her. He didn't really have any friends on the ship and he felt as though being so distant from her that he would lose her as well.
Motioning forward, Isabel started walking down the hallway, Mason alongside her. "So what did you think of the Sentinel, and dinner?"
"Well, it was most certaintly different and serene for my tastes. Conversation eh I?" paused Mason.
Isabel quirked an eyebrow, "Yes?"
For a moment he could had sworn he felt something odd pass just over his shoulder. He was a bit cold during the course of dinner although it was an official function he didn't want to alarm anyone nor embarrass himself. "Nothing Captain, I found the Sentinel to be a fine ship and all to be honest I wanted to have a look at their engine room. As you may not know engineering was my first like when I joined the academy. Always have been fascinated with different types of warp engine designs. Perhaps another time I guess." He said.
As the two passed another intersection, Mason looked back at her, "What did you think of the ship and her crew?" he asked.
"Seems to be a good crew - resourceful too. And the ship seems to be in top shape as well. I think we'll work well together. The true test, of course, is when we arrive at Direidi and begin our search for the Sirion," Isabel commented.
"Indeed, it will take the efforts of both crews plus those of the other ship but I am confident that we will find the Sirion. It will be interesting to work with all of my counter parts."
Isabel continued down the hall, glancing at Mason, "I'm hoping when we rendezvous with the other two ships they'll have some good news for us... Even if they do, we'll still have to be careful. I'd feel a lot better if we hadn't seen the Borg in the area when we were here before."
Hunt shook his head, he disliked borg and each time he encountered them it scared him to a fault but he never showed that fear in front of the crew. "I share in that feeling Captain as I am sure the entire crew does - the borg I mean."
"Have you caught up with all the transfers yet? It seemed as soon as I was caught up, another came through," Isabel shook her head. The Borg were certainly not a pleasant to talk about, so she thought a change of subject might be good.
"To be honest I haven't. I know who they are but haven't read their personnel files as yet. I did manage to quickly glance at Mr.Quaid's though, pretty impressive."
Isabel nodded, "Mr. Quaid seems quite knowledgeable - in Flight Control and Security. Mr. Roh doesn't have experience at the Chief position, but I've spoken with him and I think he'll do well. Have you met them yet? If not, you should - seem like good officers."
"That is on my list for tomorrow. It's getting late and we both need rest." He said.
"I'll certainly try to get some, but I wanted to stop on the Bridge first to see how things are going and make sure there were no problems while we were away," she said.
"Bridge to Kersare."
She sighed, "At least I was planning on going there." Tapping her commbadge, she replied, "Go ahead Bridge."
"Ma'am, Mr. Tupalov called a Red Alert while you were gone...something about a lifeform taking over his quarters...though it turned out to be cress," the officer replied.
"On my way, Kersare out," she replied. Isabel looked over at Mason, "I'm not so sure I want to know what this is all about, though I have a bad feeling I already do."
"I am as curious as you are Captain. What do you think it is?"
"I take it you've not heard about the...difficulties between Mr. Tupalov and Mr. Hawkins?" Isabel raised an eyebrow.
Hunt knew he had missed out on a lot but not this much, so he shook his head no and listened.
"Tupalov hit Hawkins, but tried to tell me Hawkins hit him. I'll leave it at that. Judging by this though, I'm guessing it didn't end with my conversation with the two of them," Isabel sighed. "I suppose I'll end up having to have another chat with them...though hopefully with some more information this time."
"Captain, I don't understand why two officers would be having this much conflict between them. Such behavior is unheard of on federation ships."
She nodded, "I'm not impressed either. I'm going to the Bridge to get whatever information they have, then I'm going to go try to sort this all out."
?Understood, please keep me updated I am heading to my quarters before I fall asleep on the deck plates.?
"Have a good evening," Isabel smiled and headed for the Bridge.
OFF: JP brought to you by:
Commander Mason Hunt
Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
and
Isabel stepped off the transporter pad, glad to be back on her own ship, but a bit disappointed that the gathering was over. It had been nice to socialize with the Sentinel crew and would probably be their last chance for anything resembling fun until the mission was over.
She walked out the door and spotted Mason waiting for her, "Hello Commander."
"Captain, its good to be back on one's own ship. Don't get me wrong the Sentinel is a fine ship but there is no substitute for home." He said. There was a short period of slience where he couldn't look up at her but he took in a deep breath and turned to her, "You know Captain its been such a long time since we really sat down and talked about anything like we used to it seems as if we have become distant strangers then the friends we once were." He said being glad he got that off of his chest.
"Yes, it has been awhile since we've talked. So much seems to be going on already and we're not even really into the mission yet," Isabel said.
He nodded, "That is true but even in any given situation no CO and XO especially us being friends should not let things like this get in the way of talking. I do miss our conversations and staying on the same page even when we do not agree." He said walking along side her. He didn't really have any friends on the ship and he felt as though being so distant from her that he would lose her as well.
Motioning forward, Isabel started walking down the hallway, Mason alongside her. "So what did you think of the Sentinel, and dinner?"
"Well, it was most certaintly different and serene for my tastes. Conversation eh I?" paused Mason.
Isabel quirked an eyebrow, "Yes?"
For a moment he could had sworn he felt something odd pass just over his shoulder. He was a bit cold during the course of dinner although it was an official function he didn't want to alarm anyone nor embarrass himself. "Nothing Captain, I found the Sentinel to be a fine ship and all to be honest I wanted to have a look at their engine room. As you may not know engineering was my first like when I joined the academy. Always have been fascinated with different types of warp engine designs. Perhaps another time I guess." He said.
As the two passed another intersection, Mason looked back at her, "What did you think of the ship and her crew?" he asked.
"Seems to be a good crew - resourceful too. And the ship seems to be in top shape as well. I think we'll work well together. The true test, of course, is when we arrive at Direidi and begin our search for the Sirion," Isabel commented.
"Indeed, it will take the efforts of both crews plus those of the other ship but I am confident that we will find the Sirion. It will be interesting to work with all of my counter parts."
Isabel continued down the hall, glancing at Mason, "I'm hoping when we rendezvous with the other two ships they'll have some good news for us... Even if they do, we'll still have to be careful. I'd feel a lot better if we hadn't seen the Borg in the area when we were here before."
Hunt shook his head, he disliked borg and each time he encountered them it scared him to a fault but he never showed that fear in front of the crew. "I share in that feeling Captain as I am sure the entire crew does - the borg I mean."
"Have you caught up with all the transfers yet? It seemed as soon as I was caught up, another came through," Isabel shook her head. The Borg were certainly not a pleasant to talk about, so she thought a change of subject might be good.
"To be honest I haven't. I know who they are but haven't read their personnel files as yet. I did manage to quickly glance at Mr.Quaid's though, pretty impressive."
Isabel nodded, "Mr. Quaid seems quite knowledgeable - in Flight Control and Security. Mr. Roh doesn't have experience at the Chief position, but I've spoken with him and I think he'll do well. Have you met them yet? If not, you should - seem like good officers."
"That is on my list for tomorrow. It's getting late and we both need rest." He said.
"I'll certainly try to get some, but I wanted to stop on the Bridge first to see how things are going and make sure there were no problems while we were away," she said.
"Bridge to Kersare."
She sighed, "At least I was planning on going there." Tapping her commbadge, she replied, "Go ahead Bridge."
"Ma'am, Mr. Tupalov called a Red Alert while you were gone...something about a lifeform taking over his quarters...though it turned out to be cress," the officer replied.
"On my way, Kersare out," she replied. Isabel looked over at Mason, "I'm not so sure I want to know what this is all about, though I have a bad feeling I already do."
"I am as curious as you are Captain. What do you think it is?"
"I take it you've not heard about the...difficulties between Mr. Tupalov and Mr. Hawkins?" Isabel raised an eyebrow.
Hunt knew he had missed out on a lot but not this much, so he shook his head no and listened.
"Tupalov hit Hawkins, but tried to tell me Hawkins hit him. I'll leave it at that. Judging by this though, I'm guessing it didn't end with my conversation with the two of them," Isabel sighed. "I suppose I'll end up having to have another chat with them...though hopefully with some more information this time."
"Captain, I don't understand why two officers would be having this much conflict between them. Such behavior is unheard of on federation ships."
She nodded, "I'm not impressed either. I'm going to the Bridge to get whatever information they have, then I'm going to go try to sort this all out."
?Understood, please keep me updated I am heading to my quarters before I fall asleep on the deck plates.?
"Have a good evening," Isabel smiled and headed for the Bridge.
OFF: JP brought to you by:
Commander Mason Hunt
Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
and
Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
<Logans Quarters, MD01, 2000>
?It?s ok, this channels secure,? Logan leant back in his chair as he looked upon the view screen, awaiting the stand-by image to change to that of his contact in Starfleet Intelligence.
The screen change, showing a leather clad man, badly lit, a window overlooking San Francisco bay behind him, ?You installed the device??
?Well that?s what I meant when I said the signals secure?Any communication marked for or from myself isn?t logged in the computers records, don?t worry, our??conversations? will go un-noticed.?
The man on the screen physically relaxed before he spoke again, ?Has he uncovered anything??
?No,? Logan replied, ?I?ve been monitoring all of Lieutenant Hawkins communications, he?s sent out various requests for information but hasn?t received any useful replies yet, don?t worry sir, if he does find anything, I?ll make sure it?s of no use.?
The man leant forward, the leather of his uniform creaking, ?Good, I don?t need to remind you of the importance of keeping Mr Jarans association with myself a secret, I don?t want Jack digging into his covert operations for us, is that understood Commander??
?Jack?? Logan hadn?t heard him refer to Hawkins by his first name before, he made a note of it internally before replying, ?Understood captain, he won?t?
?I should hope so, I will contact you in due course Commander?
?Very good si?? The screen flashed off, he had already gone?.
OFF:
Ensign Simon Logan [PNPC]
Communications Officer
?It?s ok, this channels secure,? Logan leant back in his chair as he looked upon the view screen, awaiting the stand-by image to change to that of his contact in Starfleet Intelligence.
The screen change, showing a leather clad man, badly lit, a window overlooking San Francisco bay behind him, ?You installed the device??
?Well that?s what I meant when I said the signals secure?Any communication marked for or from myself isn?t logged in the computers records, don?t worry, our??conversations? will go un-noticed.?
The man on the screen physically relaxed before he spoke again, ?Has he uncovered anything??
?No,? Logan replied, ?I?ve been monitoring all of Lieutenant Hawkins communications, he?s sent out various requests for information but hasn?t received any useful replies yet, don?t worry sir, if he does find anything, I?ll make sure it?s of no use.?
The man leant forward, the leather of his uniform creaking, ?Good, I don?t need to remind you of the importance of keeping Mr Jarans association with myself a secret, I don?t want Jack digging into his covert operations for us, is that understood Commander??
?Jack?? Logan hadn?t heard him refer to Hawkins by his first name before, he made a note of it internally before replying, ?Understood captain, he won?t?
?I should hope so, I will contact you in due course Commander?
?Very good si?? The screen flashed off, he had already gone?.
OFF:
Ensign Simon Logan [PNPC]
Communications Officer
Lieutenant Jonathan "Jack" Hawkins
Acting Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
<<Near Yrel's Quarters, 1940 hours, Day One, USS Malinche>>
After the intense meeting with Marco, Cam could only really focus on one thing. Yrel. He hadn't seen her in a couple of days now, in fact he hadn't even heard from her and with the strained look on her face that he managed to glimpse during the briefing well concern was taking over. He just hoped it wasn't him, hoped he hadn't actually done anything wrong. It wasn't like he was a hit with women. In his past it had nothing but bad luck which caused several break ups and his divorce.
Sighing, he slung his medical coat over his left arm and loosened the top of his teal undershirt slightly. He felt so warm and overworked. It had been a harsh and critical day and so many things lay atop his mind including of course Yrel. Slowly he approached her door and stopped, hesitating slightly. Then eventually he reached up and chimed the door access. He hadn't even checked to see if she was in but something told him she would be in here.
Yrel opened her eyes slowly, laying softly atop her bed, trying to make up for last night's on and off slumber. It had affected the rest of the day, for sure. Although taking two spills, and finding out about twins. Well, that had pretty much tossed away a clam mentality too. And it was still hard to think about even now, twins.
She swung her feet over the side of the bed and pushed herself to her feet, straightening out the silky nightgown she wore, and made for the door to answer the chime. A hand rest on her side, trying to let the slight ache subside.
The door opened to reveal Cameron, and her hand immediately fell to her side, as to not draw attention. She put on a bright smile instead, as his eyes stared into hers.
"Evening, Doctor. I'm pretty sure I've had my apple for the day," she lightly giggled and stuck out her tongue, before turning back into her quarters, giving him a full view of her expose back as per the light nightgown.
Cameron smiled and followed her in, taking charge of her quarters as he always did and throwing his jacket down onto the back of the chair. He sighed and stepped up to her, twisting her round and letting a little edge of desire in. He took her head in his hands and cradled her neck as he kissed her fully and sweetly. He had been looking forward to just that for two days now. Slowly he withdrew and grinned. "I think I missed you just a little too much. Where have you been?"
"About, but busy," she replied, her smile lingering. "Been working on a reply letter from a coworker, trying to word it just right." She shrugged. "Plus, there's always getting the lab ready for the mission with the Borg. Just one of those days."
Yrel stepped back and took a seat on the couch, bringing herself down slowly and crossing her legs. "You?"
"Uh...sickbay, sickbay, more sickbay and a drug addict." He shrugged, regarding her carefully. "Then there's the emergency procedures for the current mission which are getting more and more difficult to keep track of with the equipment still under upgrade limitations. Are you okay?" He added carefully at the end, sitting across from her on the reclining chair.
"Just a bit tired. Last night wasn't my greatest," her smiled twisted into a smirk. "Must have been the loss of my cuddling male companion." She took a breath. "Was trying to go bed early tonight and see if that changes anything. But your company is always nice too..."
"Well I've eaten, and I'm pretty tired myself." He smiled and stepped from the chair moving round and flopping down beside her on the couch, immediately pulling her into him to kiss her forehead. "And I just thought after having such a rough night last night that maybe you wouldn't mind me coming round and cuddling up beside you."
Yrel nodded, pushing herself up a bit and moved over onto Cameron, resting herself on his lap, her legs dangled off to his left and his right arm supporting her back as she placed her head on her shoulder.
"That would be nice." She brought her arm across his chest and over the other side of his shoulder. "You'll learn soon enough that in personal spaces, I'm really very timid and needy."
"Is that right, eh?" He smiled and cradled her gently with his lips brushing against her hair. Right there at that moment in time there was a security that Cameron had never quite been able to obtain in his life, not even with Rebecca. He didn't want to be anywhere else and he was happy feeling that way. Gradually he lifted her and pulled her into his arms further to support and standing he shuffled through her quarters to the bedroom, playfully flopping her down onto the bed. Immediately he pinned her and they exchanged another long kiss before he sat back and sighed, climbing right up onto the bed.
Yrel slid herself up to the pillow of her bed, lying down comfortably as she eyed Cameron. She patted the mattress beside. "Come here, Cam, and get comfortable."
"Hmmmn..." Cam murmured as he began sliding his uniform top off. He was ready to sleep never mind anything else, staring at Yrel he could see a strange difference. A calm, warm aura to her persona and that made him just want to hold her. He threw the teal undershirt onto the floor to reveal a toned, slightly muscular chest. Next came the boots, kicked to the floor and taking his utility belt off he slipped his trousers off. Creeping the sheets up and over he adjusted Yrel's position and settled beneath them with her. "Are you sure you're feeling okay? You seem so...different tonight."
"It's amazing what difference there is when sex is out of the way, hmm?" she mumbled, her entire being drifting in and out of a peaceful and settled sleep. Her eyes were half concentrated on Cam as her breathing was slowing. "I guess...I'm more tired...than I thought." She smiled slightly, wanting to laugh but forced to just hold the smile, for the drifting of sleep was really taking its presence.
Cam smiled and snaked an arm beneath her neck, pulling her into him as they squeezed together. The heat and touch from her skin felt incredible. With a sigh he kissed her forehead again. "G'night - dream a good one."
OFF
JP by
Doctor Cameron Fairbairn
CMO
USS Malinche
After the intense meeting with Marco, Cam could only really focus on one thing. Yrel. He hadn't seen her in a couple of days now, in fact he hadn't even heard from her and with the strained look on her face that he managed to glimpse during the briefing well concern was taking over. He just hoped it wasn't him, hoped he hadn't actually done anything wrong. It wasn't like he was a hit with women. In his past it had nothing but bad luck which caused several break ups and his divorce.
Sighing, he slung his medical coat over his left arm and loosened the top of his teal undershirt slightly. He felt so warm and overworked. It had been a harsh and critical day and so many things lay atop his mind including of course Yrel. Slowly he approached her door and stopped, hesitating slightly. Then eventually he reached up and chimed the door access. He hadn't even checked to see if she was in but something told him she would be in here.
Yrel opened her eyes slowly, laying softly atop her bed, trying to make up for last night's on and off slumber. It had affected the rest of the day, for sure. Although taking two spills, and finding out about twins. Well, that had pretty much tossed away a clam mentality too. And it was still hard to think about even now, twins.
She swung her feet over the side of the bed and pushed herself to her feet, straightening out the silky nightgown she wore, and made for the door to answer the chime. A hand rest on her side, trying to let the slight ache subside.
The door opened to reveal Cameron, and her hand immediately fell to her side, as to not draw attention. She put on a bright smile instead, as his eyes stared into hers.
"Evening, Doctor. I'm pretty sure I've had my apple for the day," she lightly giggled and stuck out her tongue, before turning back into her quarters, giving him a full view of her expose back as per the light nightgown.
Cameron smiled and followed her in, taking charge of her quarters as he always did and throwing his jacket down onto the back of the chair. He sighed and stepped up to her, twisting her round and letting a little edge of desire in. He took her head in his hands and cradled her neck as he kissed her fully and sweetly. He had been looking forward to just that for two days now. Slowly he withdrew and grinned. "I think I missed you just a little too much. Where have you been?"
"About, but busy," she replied, her smile lingering. "Been working on a reply letter from a coworker, trying to word it just right." She shrugged. "Plus, there's always getting the lab ready for the mission with the Borg. Just one of those days."
Yrel stepped back and took a seat on the couch, bringing herself down slowly and crossing her legs. "You?"
"Uh...sickbay, sickbay, more sickbay and a drug addict." He shrugged, regarding her carefully. "Then there's the emergency procedures for the current mission which are getting more and more difficult to keep track of with the equipment still under upgrade limitations. Are you okay?" He added carefully at the end, sitting across from her on the reclining chair.
"Just a bit tired. Last night wasn't my greatest," her smiled twisted into a smirk. "Must have been the loss of my cuddling male companion." She took a breath. "Was trying to go bed early tonight and see if that changes anything. But your company is always nice too..."
"Well I've eaten, and I'm pretty tired myself." He smiled and stepped from the chair moving round and flopping down beside her on the couch, immediately pulling her into him to kiss her forehead. "And I just thought after having such a rough night last night that maybe you wouldn't mind me coming round and cuddling up beside you."
Yrel nodded, pushing herself up a bit and moved over onto Cameron, resting herself on his lap, her legs dangled off to his left and his right arm supporting her back as she placed her head on her shoulder.
"That would be nice." She brought her arm across his chest and over the other side of his shoulder. "You'll learn soon enough that in personal spaces, I'm really very timid and needy."
"Is that right, eh?" He smiled and cradled her gently with his lips brushing against her hair. Right there at that moment in time there was a security that Cameron had never quite been able to obtain in his life, not even with Rebecca. He didn't want to be anywhere else and he was happy feeling that way. Gradually he lifted her and pulled her into his arms further to support and standing he shuffled through her quarters to the bedroom, playfully flopping her down onto the bed. Immediately he pinned her and they exchanged another long kiss before he sat back and sighed, climbing right up onto the bed.
Yrel slid herself up to the pillow of her bed, lying down comfortably as she eyed Cameron. She patted the mattress beside. "Come here, Cam, and get comfortable."
"Hmmmn..." Cam murmured as he began sliding his uniform top off. He was ready to sleep never mind anything else, staring at Yrel he could see a strange difference. A calm, warm aura to her persona and that made him just want to hold her. He threw the teal undershirt onto the floor to reveal a toned, slightly muscular chest. Next came the boots, kicked to the floor and taking his utility belt off he slipped his trousers off. Creeping the sheets up and over he adjusted Yrel's position and settled beneath them with her. "Are you sure you're feeling okay? You seem so...different tonight."
"It's amazing what difference there is when sex is out of the way, hmm?" she mumbled, her entire being drifting in and out of a peaceful and settled sleep. Her eyes were half concentrated on Cam as her breathing was slowing. "I guess...I'm more tired...than I thought." She smiled slightly, wanting to laugh but forced to just hold the smile, for the drifting of sleep was really taking its presence.
Cam smiled and snaked an arm beneath her neck, pulling her into him as they squeezed together. The heat and touch from her skin felt incredible. With a sigh he kissed her forehead again. "G'night - dream a good one."
OFF
JP by
Doctor Cameron Fairbairn
CMO
USS Malinche
Lieutenant Yrel Sovereign
Chief Science Officer & Second Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B
-
Starbase 386 Crew
- Posts: 105
- Joined: Sun Jul 01, 2007 11:38 pm
- Location: Starbase 386
ON: <USS Sentinel Mess Hall, 2010, Day 1>
Lange stared out the viewport into space. The party had started to break up a few minutes ago, and now he was the only person left in the Mess Hall other than the clean up crew, who were re-arranging the tables to their regular arrangement. Kilana had volunteered to escort the Malinche crew back to the transporter room, leaving Lange time to gather his thoughts.
Lange personally thought that the dinner had gone well. Certainly, it had seemed that some of the officers weren't totally comfortable in such a large gathering, but most had found their counterparts aboard the other ship and seemed to have lengthy conversations. Lange hoped that could be parleyed into a good working relationship between the two crews as they searched for the Sirion.
They were now less than 24 hours away from their rendezvous with the other ships assigned to the search. Hopefully those ships would have some progress to report. At the least they'd be able to mark the areas already searched off their charts and concentrate on other areas. At any rate, the search would go faster with 4 ships, compared to two.
As he peered out the window, Lange could just barely make out the angular lines of the Malinche off to starboard and a bit ahead of the Sentinel. Contrary to the carefully choreographed recruitment and publicity shot that Starfleet produced from time to time, even with full running lights Starships were very difficult to see with the naked eye when they weren't near a planet, star, or other source of light. Indeed, the main way to see a ship with ones eyes was to look for the formation lights that flashed on and off at preset intervals.
Turning away from the viewport, Lange looked around the Mess Hall. He did indeed like the new paneling on the walls. It was much more aesthetically pleasing than the Starfleet standard decor. Still, he had places to be and people to talk to, so he couldn't afford to dawdle any longer gawking at the decorations.
With a sigh and a shake of his head, Lange headed towards the door. A captain's life was never easy on any ship, Starfleet or merchant.
OFF:
_________________
Tony
AKA
Captain James Lange
Commanding Officer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
Task Force 22, Horizon Fleet
Lange stared out the viewport into space. The party had started to break up a few minutes ago, and now he was the only person left in the Mess Hall other than the clean up crew, who were re-arranging the tables to their regular arrangement. Kilana had volunteered to escort the Malinche crew back to the transporter room, leaving Lange time to gather his thoughts.
Lange personally thought that the dinner had gone well. Certainly, it had seemed that some of the officers weren't totally comfortable in such a large gathering, but most had found their counterparts aboard the other ship and seemed to have lengthy conversations. Lange hoped that could be parleyed into a good working relationship between the two crews as they searched for the Sirion.
They were now less than 24 hours away from their rendezvous with the other ships assigned to the search. Hopefully those ships would have some progress to report. At the least they'd be able to mark the areas already searched off their charts and concentrate on other areas. At any rate, the search would go faster with 4 ships, compared to two.
As he peered out the window, Lange could just barely make out the angular lines of the Malinche off to starboard and a bit ahead of the Sentinel. Contrary to the carefully choreographed recruitment and publicity shot that Starfleet produced from time to time, even with full running lights Starships were very difficult to see with the naked eye when they weren't near a planet, star, or other source of light. Indeed, the main way to see a ship with ones eyes was to look for the formation lights that flashed on and off at preset intervals.
Turning away from the viewport, Lange looked around the Mess Hall. He did indeed like the new paneling on the walls. It was much more aesthetically pleasing than the Starfleet standard decor. Still, he had places to be and people to talk to, so he couldn't afford to dawdle any longer gawking at the decorations.
With a sigh and a shake of his head, Lange headed towards the door. A captain's life was never easy on any ship, Starfleet or merchant.
OFF:
_________________
Tony
AKA
Captain James Lange
Commanding Officer
USS Sentinel NCC-74673
Task Force 22, Horizon Fleet
This is a post by a member of Starbase 386's Crew
http://starbase386.antoniemey.com/
http://starbase386.antoniemey.com/