USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

A slight backpost set before the previous post:

ON:

<<Bridge, 0300, Day 3>>

Finishing her conversation with Aaron, Isabel turned her attention to Jack. "Made it here safely, I see..."

“Hmmm” Jack replied rubbing his forehead, “One day I’ll make it up here without technology conspiring against me...” He paused and looked around “What the hell is going on round here?”

"It'd be easier to ask what isn't going on around here," Isabel replied with a sigh. "Engine problems, light problems, turbolift problems, sensor problems, navigation problems, communications problems...and that's just what I know about."

“And the holodecks are just guaranteed to be all kinds of screwy...” Jack added. Whatever was wrong on any ship it always seemed to affect them worse of all, it was just one of those odd little coincidences about starship travel.

Isabel nodded, then motioned for them to move over to the side, out of earshot, "Were you able to find any information?"

“Oooh yeah...” Jack said as he looked at the PADD, “Let’s start at the beginning: In 2336 a Vulcan science vessel vanished in the area while on a standard survey mission, in 2339 the USS Anzac entered the expanse, 2 weeks later the ship returned on autopilot, without a soul on board, that ones weird...”

He scrolled down, “Between 2342 and 2372 there are 43 reports of ships experiencing malfunctions in the area, many of these are chalked up to regular breakdowns but given what’s happening I thought I’d count them all. During the war the USS Maine and 2 Klingon warships entered the area after a Dominion battle group was detected, only there was no sign of them when they arrived at the co-ordinates and shortly after one of the Vorchas was destroyed in a warpcore breach.”

He continued, “After the war there are few more years of random malfunctions, mostly minor but a few more serious,” He paused, “and then in the 2382 the USS Rome entered the expanse, never to be seen again...”

Pausing to take in the information, Isabel finally said, "Well...at least most of them got out. Did any report problems like the ones we've been having?"

“Some report parts of our long list or problems, and some had it worse than others." He half laughed at remembering something on his list, “The USS Creek had nothing but fudge coming out of the replicators and had a medley of the ‘Bee Gees’ greatest hits playing for 4 days straight...” He paused, “I’m surprised they made it out of that one alive...”

Isabel raised an eyebrow, "Did they mention any promising solutions by any chance?"

“Party?” Jack offered with a slight shrug.

Before Isabel could reply, her commbadge chirped.

"Barrett to Kersare."

"Go ahead," Isabel wondered what news Jason had.

"I've got communications back with sickbay, seems Quaid took a tumble in that fun with the engines, Adam says he's stable though. I'm going to head down to engineering now."

Isabel’s eyes went a bit wide, "Understood."

"Oh there is also a coolant leak on deck 4 you might want to have someone checkout."

"I'll make sure Peters knows, although you might want to tell him. You're probably going to see him before we will," Isabel replied.

"Will do."

Isabel turned back to Jack, “Well, that certainly isn’t going to help.”

“From what I can work out the only way ships in the past have completely removed the errors from their systems has been to turn around and get out of dodge.”

“So, party it is?” Jack said humourlessly this time.

Isabel frowned, she didn't like the situation they were in. And now she was down a Chief Security/Tactical Officer. "I think all we can do is go forward. Mr. Hawkins, you were once in law enforcement, correct?"

“Yeah on a colony in the DMZ for about 5 years, first as a general enforcer then as a Detective” Jack replied.

Nodding, Isabel paused then asked her next question, "What kind of Tactical training do you have?"

Images for the academy popped into Jacks mind, “Intelligence training is part desk work and part field work, you end up taking a lot of tactics and combat courses. I’ve more tactically trained than most I guess?”

"Would you be willing to take over Chief Security/Tactical responsibilities while Lieutenant Quaid recovers," she looked over at him. While Isabel would have liked to simply leave him in Intel, with Jack's experience, he was probably one of their best bets to slip into the role temporarily.

He thought for a moment, “Sure thing.” Normally Jack would have declined but he and Quaid had bonded somewhat on the last mission, they had been through a lot on the Sirion and Jack felt obliged to help out while the Chief was out of commission.

"I appreciate it," Isabel replied. "Your experience may come in handy considering everything that's been happening - I want to prevent a panic."

Jack tried to get his mind switched over to the way of thinking he was going to need for the next short while, “I’m not sure how far Jake had gotten but I’ll look at spreading security staff into certain areas to try and help anyone that needs it, might help with any panic?”

"Sounds like a good start. I'd suggest having someone check on the Tactical systems to see how they're functioning as well," Isabel said. If they ran into another asteroid field, the tactical systems might be needed. Or if they ran into something else...

“I’ll get right on it...” He said knowing that with the computers playing up it would most likely mean checking weapon and shield arrays manually.

Isabel nodded, "I'll let you get started. If you need anything, let me know - and keep me updated."

“Aye Aye Captain” He replied with a nod before heading off with haste in the direction of the turbolift before quickly changing his mind and heading for the Jefferies tube instead.


OFF:

A JP by:

Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer

and

ON: <<USS Malinche, Main Engineering, 0402, Day 3>>

Will had actually found the music coming from the comm system rather pleasant, considering that he had been up since around 0200 hours. Besides, it could have been far worse. Still, when the comm system finally fell silent, it was considered to be a small victory.

"Lieutenant," Will called toward the chief engineer, "I think I've managed to isolate one frequency, but with the way everything's affected, I can't be sure who will hear us."

"I'll take it," Peters replied as he pulled himself out of an access hatch. "That's better than what I've been able to figure out with the engines and navigational systems. Do you want to do the honors?"

Clearing his throat, Will activated the comm frequency, saying, "Lt. Schulz to the bridge...Engineering to bridge, respond please."

Peters waited expectantly for a few moments. No response. Which meant either everyone on the bridge was deaf, or the signal wasn't getting through. He looked at Schulz and shrugged.

Will checked his board and shook his head. "I don't get it," he said, "They should be receiving it. I don't know why..."

He was suddenly interrupted by a burst of static followed by his own words. =/\= Lt. Schulz to the bridge...Engineering to bridge, respond please."

"So we're talking to ourselves... great," Peters muttered. "Not that I should be surprised about that." With a growl, Peters sat down at the nearest console and ran yet another diagnostic on the communications systems. It came back clean. "Alright, Malinche... Start behaving, and I'll make sure you get a nice warp coil replacement the next time we're at a starbase long enough. Please?"

Will couldn't help but chuckle to himself slightly. True, the situation was getting desperate, but enough to be talking to the ship? Still...to each their own. "See if you can give me external sensors," Will said, tapping away at his board, "I want to see if something out there might have done this."

Peters nodded and tapped a command into his console. "Well, THAT is actually a surprise. We can't hear or talk, but we CAN see. Your sensors await."

Will made an initial sweep of the space surrounding the Malinche. When nothing jumped out at him as being out of the ordinary, he slowly expanded the scan radius, focusing on what he presumed to be the direction they had come from.

Peters was about to point out a blip on the sensors when the whole display flickered once, twice, and then virtually all of the sensor inputs went dead. Only one array remained. "Great... so now we can only see in one direction. Malinche, you're misbehaving your way right out of that coil replacement."

With a sigh, Peters pulled up all the scan data he could with the remaining sensor array. Unfortunately, that only gave them an arc of about twenty degrees to the aft port side of the ship. "There's nothing that way but that asteroid field we passed through a while back."

"Do you always talk to the ship like that," Will asked, trying to see if he could restore any of the other arrays.

"Only when I'm mad at her... which on this ship, ends up happening at least once a mission," Peters replied.

"Well, I've got no better luck trying to get readings on any other direction," Will replied, "We might as well get a summary of what we do know up to the bridge before they start to wonder where we are and what we're up to."

"What we know... let's see... everything went screwy, we can't find any malfunctions, but we can't fix it either. That cover it?" Peters gave Schulz a sidelong glance. "Who should we use as a runner?"

At that moment the door hissed open and Lieutenant Barrett entered the room. Peters looked at Barrett, then looked at Schulz. "OK, now that kind of timing is just scary."

"You're telling me," Will said, trying to gather what information the two had for the XO as he approached.

OFF

A JP by

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

and

On: Renna Samports Quarters, a very dark early morning

Renna came awake when the ship shook, and since she was too near the edge of the bed, she fell out, again. Picking her self up, in the dark, she requested lights but received nothing. Feeling her way to where she had put her uniform when she went to bed, she dressed quickly.

Deciding that trying to move though a dark ship was probably not a good idea, and she had general knowledge of her office, she teleported there, and went out the door into Chaos. Adam (NPC) briefed her quickly about Quaid, and the problem with any computer driven diagnostic equipment giving strange readings. The biobeds were useless as they registered a patient dead one minute, alive with a high fever the next. The tricorders that had not been near the computer were fine as were any padds not plugged into the Computers. The rest were useless at this time.

The hand held dermal regenerators were ok, the larger Anabolic Protopasers which were used for broken bones were useless, as were the overhead bio-regenerator units. Broken bones were set and splinted. Cuts could be fixed completely but anything requiring surgery had to be put off. Renna had them get out some stasis units, just in case.

It took about a half hour before the sickbay resembled a stable sickbay, but all the biobeds were full,. Some patients were moved into the Private Rooms along the side, if it got worse, she would call for full medical crew, and start filling the intensive care ward or the recovery room, in order to take care of everyone. So far no new patients in the last 10 minutes or so, she hoped they had all been found.

Off

<<USS Malinche>>
<Main Engineering, 0407, Day 3>

Jason's journey from sickbay had been rather interesting. The turbolift decided to stop on every deck and the computer was randomly insulting him. Not that he really minded, after all he was around Zero (NPC) a lot so the constant insulting wasn't all that much different then spending an afternoon with the droid.

Engineering didn't appear to be all that much different then sickbay, clearly something was amiss as the concerned look on both Peters and Schulz's face told him. Displays flickered on and off as did the lights; this was one time that he was glad he was in command and not operations. He did not envy the sorting out that Will was going to have to do to the systems.

"I am sort of hoping that you two have an explanation for what's been going on around here," Jason stated, as he met the two officers.

"Well, Lieutenant," Peters began, "I have good news and bad news. The good news is that all systems read as functional. The bad news is that for reasons unknown to us, we have no control over any of them. Right now we have engines, but no flight control capability, communications channels, but no signals actually getting through, and sensors, but only in one direction."

"I think I liked it better when it was just good news. When you get a chance do you think that you could stop the computer from insulting me," Jason stated. "I managed to jury rig some communications for the sickbay and the bridge, if you have a spare tricorder I could try it here. Maybe we really are surrounded by ghosts."

"I seriously doubt that it could actually be 'ghosts', sir," Will said, looking up from his console, "When we passed through the asteroid field yesterday, my department took some detailed readings. We're still working to analyze them, but I think that the same thing that made those asteroids so random is what may be affecting our systems. Just a natural phenomena."

"Nothing about this is natural," Jason stated. "I'm not inclined to chalk this up to the mystery spot of the universe, at least not yet. Do you think any of the systems will be permanently damaged?"

"We don't know that yet," Will said, his gaze dropping back to the board.

Peters tossed Barrett a tricorder as he moved towards a nearby console. "I don't know about the insults. I can't get the computer to stop serenading us with Barry Mannilow whenever we try to contact anyone. I like this assignment a whole lot better then the ship works like it's supposed to."

"I think that's a statement shared by the whole crew," Jason stated, opening an access panel. "I'm willing to entertain theories about what the hell is going on though."

"Try the command subprocessors," Will suggested, "It could be that the commands just aren't getting through...that they're pulling from somewhere else."

Jason stuck his head back in the access panel and began to fiddle with things, seconds later something near the back of engineering exploded in a burst of sparks and smoke.

"I swear I did not do that," Jason stated. "I have everything all rigged up, who wants to be the one to try and get a message off?"

Peters motioned for a damage control team to go clean up the mess, then looked back at Barrett. "Don't look at me. If the Captain hears my voice she's going to want to know why her ship's broken and when it will be fixed. I can't even begin to figure out a repair time, much less a nicely-padded estimate to give her."

"Well don't everybody volunteer at once," Will said, eying the two senior officers. When neither one of them moved, Will sighed and activated the comm channel again. "Engineering to Bridge," he said, looking around, "How about we start with the list of stuff that is working?"

OFF

A JP by

Lieutenant Jason Barrett
Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B

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

and

ON: <<Jefferies Tubes en route to Bridge, USS Malinche, MD03, 0502>>

Leaning against the side of the Jefferies Tube, Will took a moment to catch his breath. He wasn’t about to risk the turbolifts with the Malinche in such a state, which mean that he was in the middle of a twelve deck climb. Actually, at the moment, he was crossing over to another vertical shaft that would take him directly to an access panel in the conference room.

Having had a moment to rest, Will continued forward, crawling on his hands and knees. After awhile, he was starting to ignore the pain that was coming from his raw hands as a result of supporting his weight on the deck plating.

“There’s no such things as ghosts,” he said to no one in particular as he reached the vertical shaft and used the extra space to stretch his limbs, “I mean, honestly…they’re just made up to scare people…right?”

Will started to climb the ladder up the shaft toward Deck 1. The movement was slow and steady, as he didn’t want to wear himself out from climbing too fast. Yet he kept the pace up because he needed to get to the bridge with the information they did have and to be able to provide assistance if needed.

Ten minutes later, he paused again, checking the junction number to see how much further he had left to go. “Only two more decks,” he said to himself, looking down to see how far he had come. Driving himself upward, Will continued to climb, hand over hand, rung by rung.

As he continued to climb, he started to think that the shaft around him was looking very familiar. Of course, much of the Jefferies network was nearly identical, and perhaps it was just his lack of sleep, but something definitely didn’t seem right. Pausing at the next junction, Will slipped his arm around the rung to hold himself in place and glanced over at the junction id number. What he saw nearly made him slip in surprise.

“I must be dreaming,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut, then opening them again. He had to blink a few times to clear his vision, but when he looked again, the id number still read the same. “Huh,” he wondered, “I could have sworn I just…I really need to get more sleep before pulling a workout like this.”

Again, Will started to climb upward, his muscles aching from lack of rest and his eyes heavy with sleep. Here he thought he’d actually get some sleep on a mission for once. Maybe the turbolift would have been the better choice, he thought to himself as he neared another junction, hoping that he had actually made some progress this time.

Thankfully, he was right where he should have been. Lifting himself into the cross tube, he crawled a short way before reaching the hatch that would allow him access to the conference room. Will placed both hands under the latch and lifted, popping the seal and pushing the hatch out away from the wall. He crawled out and got to his feet, brushing himself off and doing his best to straighten his uniform. Finally, he gave up, turned around and resealed the hatch. Then, though tired from his climb, he headed out onto the bridge. There was work to do.

OFF

<Deck 5, 0512, Day 3>

“What’s this one read?”

“I’m getting no power coming to it at all...”

“Oh for crying out loud!”

Jack hit the buttons on the display in front of him hard, he was frustrated, for the last 2 hours he had been darting about the ship with Ensign Stone checking on the various weapon and shield arrays, and so far what they had found wasn’t good.

“So what’s the final tally?” Stone asked as he emerged from the jefferies tube where he had been manually checking the last phaser relay.

“Of 12 phaser arrays we can use in one piece, one works fine, one works some of the time, and both of those are aft firing. We have one torpedo launcher that works, also aft, one that thinks it works but won’t load torpedoes, one that’s completely dead and one that’s convinced it’s a Dutch speaking parrot named Ethel....” Jack replied.

“Oh....”

“Yeah... And as for shields they’re a lost cause, there's just no power getting anywhere” Jack shut down the diagnostic display after it once again showed no problems, “Oh and the diagnostic program clearly has no idea what it was designed to do.”

Jack was the first to admit he had no idea what was going, sure he had done research and knew other ships had run in to difficulties here, but none of those reports offered any kind of explanation as to why the ships experienced malfunctions.

“Stone,” He spoke to the man who, for the time being, he was in command of, “Go round and check on the security teams we’ve placed around the ship, get a report off of each of them, I’m going to head down to main engineering and see if they’ve come up with any ideas about what’s wrong.”

“Aye Sir”, came the reply and the ensign turned to leave.

“Ensign?” Jack added as Stone was about to leave the room, “If you pass by sickbay on your travels see if you can get an update on Lieutenant Quaid.”

“Aye Sir” He replied again and left the room leaving Jack alone, he sighed and turned towards the jefferies tube access, “I’m really starting to hate these things...” he said to no-one and climbed inside...

On:
Bridge USS-Malinche
03:15 hrs

Aaron stared at the string of data scrolling across the screen of his console. He felt like he was back at Starfleet Academy during one of Commander Sheldon’s cryptography courses. The answer was hidden in plain site and it was up to Aaron to break the code and read the message. Retrieval of information already in the computer banks didn’t seem to be a problem, but he wasn’t sure how much he trusted information gathered since the asteroid field or even before that since they had entered the expanse. At the moment his priority was finding a way to get a message to Star Base Minerva.

“Computer, open a channel with Star Base Minerva, audio only.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Aaron regretted his request. The sounds of Klingon Opera filled the bridge much to the dismay of those around. Quickly shutting it off, Aaron simply shrugged his shoulders. Audio communications were out but there had to be a way to send an encrypted data stream explaining their situation. About that time Ensign Ward (NPC) climbed her way onto the bridge.

“It is the official opinion of the rest of the science department that there are too many coincidences for this to be a random occurrence. As I mentioned before, even most legends have their root in reality. As for the why, that is still a mystery and could quite possibly remain that. It’s almost as if someone or a group of someone’s is using this region as their own testing grounds, challenging someone to call them on their actions.”

“That’s it!” Aaron suddenly exclaimed.

“What’s it?” Reyna was usually pretty good at following conversations, but not this time.

Aaron arose from his seat and headed for the hatch.
“I’ll be back shortly; we still have limited contact with the probe we launched earlier. Use it to establish a data link with Minerva. I’ll explain more when I return.”

Aaron headed down the Jeffries tube, reappearing several minutes later with a note book in one hand.

“During the war it wasn’t always possible to send communiqués over an encrypted channel but sensitive information still needed to get out. Field operatives were given a set of codes to memorize and use when sending data. Those of us on ships were given a code book to aid the decrypting the messages. With the end of the war the usage had dropped but is still used occasionally. All we have to do is hope someone on Minerva recognizes that we’re sending a coded message. You establish a link?”

Reyna nodded.
“For now, I’m not sure how long it will last though.”

Aaron slid into the science station and began composing the message. Aware of the time limitation it was short and to the point. Several minutes later a reply was sent back, however before the whole message could be received contact was lost. Deciphering the seemingly incoherent data stream Aaron gave Ensign Ward a summary of the message.
“Once they recognized it as a code they sent it to Intel where someone was able to decode it and send back an appropriate reply. They are aware of our situation and it looks like they have ordered the expanse off-limits for the time being. I’m not sure on that last part, the whole message wasn’t received.”

Ward managed a weak smile.
“At least we won’t disappear without a trace, now what?”

“Just keep doing your job, go over every bit of data even remotely connected to what’s happening.” Aaron held up a hand to cut off the protest he knew was coming.
“If you find nothing put it aside and work on another piece of data. Keep at it until you have answers, or the answers are no longer required.”

As the young Trill moved to the auxiliary science station, Aaron almost felt sorry for her but he didn’t know what else to say. It was his experience that keeping busy would at the very least keep one’s mind off the situation and reduce anxiety.

Tracking down the Captain, Aaron delivered the message from Minerva.

Off:

Tag:
CO

<<Mess Hall, 0700, Day 3>>

Yawning, Britney (PNPC) walked into the Mess Hall. It was early...too early in her opinion, especially considering the previous nights' events that had lasted through most of the early morning. Eventually there was little else for her to do and Isabel had sent her back to her quarters to get a little sleep.

Hopefully Engineering and Operations had made some progress in those few hours...

Britney looked around the room. People were eating at least - so either the replicators were fine or someone was actually cooking food and distributing it. Now that she thought about it, the lights on her way to the Mess had been working as well.

She glanced back at the door and saw Caleb (NPC). Smiling she walked over to him, "Well, good morning, I was wondering where you were."

Caleb's eyes turned to her; he hesitated just a moment then said, "Good morning Brit, sorry I'm late - practically all of the Engineering staff was called back to try to fix some of these problems."

"I did notice that the lights seem to be working okay now, and I didn't have any problems with the turbolift," Britney confirmed. "I've not really tried using anything else yet."

He nodded, "It's been a long night. Shall we?"

"Absolutely," she smiled, leading the way to the replicators. As Britney neared one, a fellow crewmember stopped her.

"I wouldn't suggest that," the woman told her. "Everyone I've seen has been having problems with them...go talk to the Chef."

Britney turned back and looked at Caleb, raising an eyebrow. "Thanks for the tip, we'll do that."

"Something else to tell Lieutenant Peters about, I guess," Caleb noted. "I doubt Siri will be thrilled."

"She must be busy," Britney said as they neared the doorway to the kitchen serving area. Luckily the line wasn't too long and they soon arrived at the counter to put their order in. "I'll have scrambled eggs, whole wheat toast, and some orange juice, please."

"We're out of orange juice, how about something else?" a junior chef asked.

Britney shrugged, "Grape juice?"

"That I can do," the chef smiled. "And you, sir?"

Caleb thought a moment, then said, "Short stack of pancakes, bacon, wheat toast, hash browns, and two eggs over easy. Oh, and I'll have a glass of cranberry juice."

"coming right up."

"Cranberry juice?" Britney raised an eyebrow, "You usually have coffee with breakfast."

"Well, I....," he started, then paused. "I just wanted something different today. Besides, coffee isn't really good for you anyway."

Not long after, the two had their food and found a table to sit at. Britney eyed the two chairs and took the furthest one, placing her food on the table before sitting.

Caleb took a sip of his cranberry juice, then settled back into his chair and smiled. "The juice is great, I've not had it in so long."

Britney smiled and nodded. True, she hadn't known Caleb for that long, comparitively, but every morning she'd seen him, he had coffee. It seemed odd that he'd switch, especially after a long night of extra work. For now though, she shrugged it off - his explanation was reasonable enough. Picking up her fork, she stabbed some eggs and placed them in her mouth. "The eggs are spectacular! Maybe I should start just going to the Chef every day."

"As long as everyone doesn't have that idea," Caleb laughed.

Grinning, Britney replied, "True."

Caleb dug into his breakfast and between bites asked, "How were things on the bridge? How's the Captain?"

"It was pretty hectic when I was there....I had to get the Captain out of bed what with everything that was going on. The consoles and sensors were acting up when we passed that asteroid field, then seemed alright until everything went crazy. I've not been up there the past few hours, though," she said.

Caleb nodded, "Some Engineers were sent to look at the consoles right before I went back to my quarters. They may have them sorted out by now."

Britney washed down a bite of toast with her grape juice. "I just hope we get out of the Expanse soon... Between the ship problems and all the ghost stories...well, it gives me an uneasy feeling."

"Ghosts aren't anything to be afraid of. If they're still here, it's probably for a reason and chances are they don't have bad intentions. They're probably just frustrated that people aren't hearing them," Caleb said.

"I didn't realize you believed so much in ghosts," Britney replied, finishing off the last of her eggs.

He shrugged, "My grandmother believed in them. If that's what's going on here, I doubt they mean us any harm." Pausing, he took another swig of his cranberry juice, "So the problems started near the asteroid field?"

Nodding, Britney picked up a piece of her toast, "Yes."

"Well...maybe we should go back there. I mean, that's where things started to go wrong, we might be able to figure out what's causing it and stop it. Then other ships would have one less thing to worry about," Caleb suggested.

Britney frowned, "I don't know that the Captain would do that. We're already going to be behind schedule getting to Ivor Prime, especially with all the problems. And we need to check things out along the Neutral Zone. Besides, once we get to Ivor Prime, we could call in and suggest StarFleet send another ship to see what's going on."

He smiled at her, "You've learned a lot about StarFleet since you came aboard."

Blushing a little, she said, "Well, if I'm going to be here, I need to learn, don't I? Besides, you've taught me a good bit about it."

"I try to help when I can," Caleb said. "Still, you might try mentioning it to the Captain. It could save a lot of ships some trouble in the future and we are here already."

"I don't know...I'm just her Yeoman, not someone to be giving her suggestions about what to do with her ship," Britney replied, a little uneasy.

Shrugging, Caleb said, "It was just a thought. Anyway, I should probably get back to Engineering."

"Okay, thanks for having breakfast with me," Britney smiled.

"I wouldn't miss it," he said, returning the smile. "If things calm down some, maybe we could have dinner tonight - as I recall, you still have several outfits left."

Her heart raced just a bit, excited at the thought, "That sounds great! Let me know if you think you'll be able to. Or we could just meet here at 1800 if we have time..."

Caleb considered it, then shook his head, "How about Holodeck 2 at 1800 - if I'm not there by 1815, I likely won't be able to make it, so don't wait."

"Alright," Britney said. "Good luck." She watched him turn and leave. Something about their meal had seemed...off...to her. The Direidian couldn't quite put her finger on it, but whatever it was made her nervous. She did her best to shake the feeling and simply concentrate on their potential date.

Time to get back to work... Britney stood, picking up her dishes and taking them to the counter to be washed or recycled - she wasn't sure which would be done, though it likely depended on the ship's systems. Her eyes glanced out the viewports, taking in a glimpse of the Expanse before leaving the Mess Hall.

OFF: Feel free to do some backposts or continue moving forward....

<<Bridge, 0328, Day 3>>

Though Nora's detection of a...presence...on the Malinche had been worrying and had served to perk her up temporarily, Isabel's adrenaline was running low. A lot was counting on her - her crew, StarFleet, herself, Derek... Speaking of which, she hadn't had the opportunity to see him the previous evening.

isabel wasn't sure how Derek would react to what was happening on the Malinche. Perhaps he would be just fine, but what if he wasn't? With the power and lighting issues, would the forcefield stay up? Would he notice either way? If it were the Derek she knew, the thoughts wouldn't even cross her mind...but this new Derek... Isabel just didn't know. Chances were he was simply in his quarters, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to send someone to check.

Tapping her comm badge, Isabel said, "Kersare to Hawkins. When you have a chance, please check on Mr. Greyman. If there are any problems, let me know."

"Acknowledged, Hawkins out."

She sighed - so much for an easy mission. With her ship, there didn't seem to be such a thing.

Absently her fingers tapped at the command panel to her left. Still nothing. Isabel knew that Will and Todd were trying to find a solution, but for the time being there was little she could do. Right now she was just exhausted.

Her eyes moved slowly over the bridge. At the moment, she had little choice but to stay - she'd sent Jason off and she didn't technically have a Second Officer. That was something she'd need to remedy. Really, she could leave, but Isabel had a feeling that if she left, something else would occur that would call her back before she could get any sleep anyway.

As she was considering her options, Isabel noticed Aaron making his way over. He handed her a PADD, which she accepted and looked up at him, "What's this, Mr. Steele?"

OFF: Tag Hawkins... Also Tag Steele for a JP

<<Derek's Quarters, 0330, Day 3>>

The room was a little brigher than usual and the temperature was a bit warmer than one would normally find on a StarFleet ship. While the Freed Borg was slowly growing accustomed to non-Borg environmental levels, he wasn't quite at normal levels yet. Having Regenerated most of the evening, he was now refreshed.

The ship shaking about had disturbed his regeneration cycle, but once the ship's movements calmed, the cycle had resumed.

Without the Collective in his thoughts and without a real purpose, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. He wasn't allowed out of his quarters, at least not without an escort. In the past few hours, the view outside his viewport had improved greatly - much more exciting than black with white streaks anyway.

The Borg had been his life for several years; at first he had resisted, but over time, he succumbed to the Collective's will. Each day had been mostly the same and after awhile, he couldn't remember anything else.

Now though, all that had changed. Though still recent enough that he couldn't simply forget his experience with the Collective, his memories of the past were slowing returning. Not much, but some. Mostly some smells and objects; sometimes faint reminders of something he had enjoyed.

Then there was the woman, Isabel. Deep down, he recognized her, could remember spending time with her. The pictures proved that. But the memories didn't surface. Maybe he would never remember, maybe he didn't want to remember...

Suddenly the lights went out, bathing the room in darkness. His eyes adjusted to the lack of light and his first instinct was to listen for orders....orders that would not come...orders from the Collective. Not knowing what else to do, he simply stayed where he was.

OFF: Tag Hawkins

Derek Greyman (Four of Seven)
PNPC played by:

<<USS Malinche>>
<Sickbay, 0855, Day 3>

Jason stretched as he entered sickbay. Thankfully the system upstarts had started to calm down, well at least the computer wasn't insulting him anymore. After he had spent the night in engineering with Peters getting the systems back up and running all he really wanted to do was head to bed. However, him being the XO that wasn't really an option. He knew that Adam (NPC) didn't come home last night, which lead him to believe that things in sickbay were more serious then they had all originally thought.

The commotion in sickbay had calmed down some since the last time that Jason was there. He spotted Adam over by Qauid's biobed.

"How is he doing?" Jason asked.

"Not so well," Adam reported. "His injuries were more serious then we previously thought. He has skull fragments deep in his front lobe, he'll make a full recovery but he won't be returning to duty any time soon."

"Kersare's not going to like that," Jason responded. "Alright, I'll fill her in when I get to the bridge."

"There's something else."

"Yes?"

"Joey (NPC) was in here earlier and didn't hit on anyone once."

"Maybe he had a long night."

"Still," Adam said, shaking his head. "Doesn't that seem odd to you? I mean remember back on the Hale during that Borg attack, he was hitting on the security officers during a phaser fight."

"Yeah, thats true maybe he was finally acting like an adult."

"I don't buy it," Adam stated. "At any rate I need to finish up here and then get some sleep, you look like hell by the way."

"Gee thanks," Jason grunted. "I'll see you later."

With that said, Jason made his way out of sickbay and toward the nearest turbolift. Adam's comment did have him slightly concerned, it wasn't like Joey to avoid hitting on anyone. Given what they had all been through the night before he figured that it was simply that Joey was way to tired to even care. Shrugging it off, he headed to the bridge.

OFF: Alright, lets get moving forward folks!

OFF: This is a backpost

ON:
<<Bridge, 0342, Day 3>>

As she was considering her options, Isabel noticed Aaron making his way over. He handed her a PADD, which she accepted and looked up at him, "What's this, Mr. Steele?"

"A communique from SB Minerva. Or part of one, we lost contact before the whole message was received. Either way they are aware of the basic facts of our situation and as you can see it appears they have ordered the expanse off limits."

Isabel nodded, "Likely not much they can do for us at this point, but at least someone knows." Looking closer, she noticed that the message was coded, "I take it you encoded the message?"

Aaron looked at the PADD in his hand, it was the decrypted version. Apologizing he switched it with the one he had originally handed the Captain. "My apologies, I sent the message encrypted as we're still not sure who or what is behind this. If I had sent a straight message we most likely would have been able to receive the whole response from the Starbase but then we would run a greater risk of it being intercepted."

"I wasn't aware you had experience with encryption, but it seems to have come in handy. Probably best to do so with any communications we send for now, until we know what we're dealing with," Isabel replied. It was good to know that someone other than those in the Intelligence Department could encrypt and decrypt messages. Isabel motioned towards the currently empty Executive Officer's chair, suggesting he have a seat.

Aaron took the suggestion and sat down. "It's not something I advertise. During my academy years I took a mix of communications and intel for my minor. Linguistics and cryptology have more in common than most realize."

"Have you been able to find out anything else?" Isabel was hoping something of use would come up soon.

"Unfortunately we still haven't come up with much. Those in the science department are sure that what is happening to the ship is deliberate, there are too many similarities to previous accounts for this to be a coincidence. What sensor data is available from this region is being double and triple checked for anything that could shed light on the situation." Aaron paused briefly to analyze the latest thought he had. "It is possible that whatever is responsible for all this is hiding in plain sight, but for whatever reason normal detection methods don't work."

Considering Aaron's latest thought, Isabel paused then replied, "That very well could be. Lieutenant JG Zeral said she felt a presence of some sort on the ship. I'm wondering if whatever it is that's happening will become more apparant as time passes."

"That would certainly make our jobs easier. If the counselor felt a presence on board the ship than that could be part of our problem. We have been looking for an external source to our problems when it could be primarily internal. In which case internal sensor data would be more important than external where our focus has been. Perhaps a joint science/ security team should do a deck by deck sweep. If nothing else it will provide us with a comprehensive list of what has been affected throughout the ship." Aaron didn't usually offer command advice, but this was an exception to the rule.

"Well, she didn't notice it the entire time, so I still think the original issue while we were in the asteroid field was external. Security is already keeping a closer eye on things, but I will make sure Lieutenant JG Hawkins lets the officers know they should keep their eyes open for anything odd. Go ahead and send a few Science Officers to do some scans; try to get a couple Medical Officers as well," Isabel replied. Perhaps she should be concentrating more on the external factors, but things just weren't adding up, so it made sense to check out any possibilities.

Aaron called Ensign Ward (NPC) over. "Have Doctor Trout work with medical to put together a small team for a deck by deck sweep. Have them keep track of anything that is out of the ordinary. Maybe grab an engineer or two as well to properly assess the damage. Than go get a few hours sleep, maybe something will pop out at you in the morning."

Aaron knew he should probably follow his own advice but wanted to take a look at what internal sensor data was available. Besides it was hard to have nightmares when one wasn't sleeping. "Anything else Captain?"

"That's all for now, Mr. Steele, thank you," Isabel replied. Hopefully they'd find out something helpful...

OFF:

JP brought to you by:

Lieutenant JG Aaron Steele
Chief Science Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B

and

<<USS Malinche, Bridge, 0700, Day 3>>

Pressing a hand against her forehead, Nora found she was fighting a losing battle against her growing headache. She was thoroughly exhausted; whatever it was her senses had picked up on, it had deeply unsettled her. Worse still, she had lost the trail, so to speak, almost immediately after, left without so much as a clue as to what it had been. Hours spent trying to reconnect with whatever presence she had detected had left her telepathic abilities nearly in shreds, and if she didn’t take care of herself, she wasn’t going to be much help to anyone. Quietly excusing herself, she apprehensively made her way to the Turbo Lift, wondering where exactly she might end up.

Feeling no less apprehensive as she stepped on, Nora was surprised to find that her journey back to her quarters was rather normal. There were no bumps, no unexpected delays, not even strange music to speak of. Setting off down the hall to her quarters, she nevertheless prepared herself for all sorts of abrasive anomalies that might have been waiting for her there.

Once she arrived she was surprised again to find that things weren't so bad at all. The lights in her quarters were already dimmed, and soothing strains of classical music played at the perfect gentle volume. Had she dimmed the lights herself before leaving yesterday morning? Shrugging her shoulders, Nora dragged herself into the bedroom and fairly collapsed onto her bed. “Thank the Four Deities,” she sighed, whole-heartedly grateful for the reprieve ahead of her.

After a few hours of sleep she would resume her telepathic vigil, but for now she was more than happy to let herself relax for a little while. “Computer, lights off,” she mumbled, and she was fast asleep before the computer obligingly complied.

OFF:

ON: <Turboshaft 3, Near Deck 2, Day 3, 0715>

"Why didn't I take the doc's advice and spend more time in the ship's gym," Peters puffed to himself as he tried to catch his breath. Hearing what sounded like another turbolift car coming, Peters stepped from the ladder he was on to the one in the recessed area to the side of the shaft. Given that three cars had passed him on this trip already, Peters was glad that Starfleet had finally gotten smart and added the side shaft for climbers. If they hadn't, he'd be a jelly stain on the turboshaft wall by now.

The turbocar blew past at three times the normal speed, causing a blast of air to push Peters hard against the bulkhead as he clung to the ladder. "OK, glad I didn't try taking the lift... it's definitely not working right... That one was going to fast... the one before it was going at a snail's pace... we'll be lucky if none of them hit each other."

With a shake of his head, Peters checked again to make sure the PADD he was carrying was still tucked into his belt, then looked up. Only a few more meters to go to Deck 2... then he'd have to get out of the turboshaft and make his way to the Bridge by way of the ramp up from that deck or by way of one of the floor access hatches.

Hefting himself up another couple of rungs, Peters decided he was definitely going for the ramp. He'd had enough of playing Monkey to last him a year just in the last half hour. He just needed to make it another two meters... then he'd be off this cursed ladder.

OFF:

OFF: This is a backpost

ON:
<Crew Quarters, 0540, MD03>

On his way to Engineering Jack remembered the request the captain had made 2 hours earlier, he knew he would pass the room used to house their Borg house guest en route and decided to check in as requested.

He approached the room currently being guarded by two security officers and nodded, “Anything to report?” The both replied that they had seen nothing out of the ordinary, at least as far as the room was concerned and Jack asked them to unlock the door.

He stepped inside...

The lights were still off, and the drone was still where he had been before - in a chair near the viewport. Unsure of what else to do, he had done nothing.
An Officer in grey came in amidst a soft yellow triangle of light from the corridor. The drone, as yet unsure what to call himself - still used to being Four of Seven but realizing that in another life his name had been Derek - looked over towards the newcomer.

“Mr Greyman?” Jack said as the door slid closed behind him, the room was warm compared to the rest of the ship and he wasn’t sure if it was a matter of choice or a malfunction in the environmental systems. “I was sent to check that everything was ok?”

"Who are you?" He watched the newcomer enter the room, his silhouette just barely visible.

“Lieutenant Hawkins, Chief Intelligence officer” Jack replied not wanting to have to try and explain his current situation.

Nodding, he replied to the previous question, "The lights are not functioning properly."

“Right,” he replied, ”well I have somebody get by and have a look when they can, unfortunately faulty lights might not be on the top of engineering’s priorities.” He paused when something occurred to him, “I’ll get someone to bring up a portable light.”

"That would be helpful," the drone replied. "What is happening on the ship?"

“We aren’t sure, this whole region seems as nutty as a barrel of monkeys...” he paused thinking something had got mixed up somewhere in that simile, he shook it off and continued, “There have been reports of unexplained malfunctions in this region for the last 50 years.” Jack glanced around the room, “You have any useful info knocking around those old neural relays of yours?”

He paused, considering what he knew, "I am afraid that I do not have any knowledge about it. My Collective isn't - wasn't active in this area." It was odd getting used to the fact that he wasn't part of the Collective anymore. If he was being honest with himself, he had to get used to it - there was no going back, though at times he yearned for the voices. He had to move on...to think of himself as...Derek...not Four of Seven.

“Right...” Jack replied succinctly. He also found himself with an odd new perspective, before the last mission he had no real fear of the Borg, while the rest of the ship was panicking he found himself distinctly underwhelmed by the prospect of coming face to face with the collective.

Now, after seeing what happened on the Sirion and to the crews of the Malinche and Sentinel, he knew why people resented the Borg. He knew the man opposite him wasn’t responsible for his actions and couldn’t be held to blame for what happened, but some part of Jack resented him for what this man was, what he used to be. He didn’t want to think or feel that but he did, maybe he hated himself slightly because of it.

Tension seemed to be in the air. Silence passed for several minutes as Derek looked at the Chief Intelligence Officer briefly, then shifted his gaze elsewhere. The look in the other man's eyes made him uncomfortable. Perhaps his previous answer was wrong...or maybe the man just didn't like him. At least in the Collective he simply worked with the others, no questions. This would be much more difficult, it seemed. He could count on one hand how many visitors he'd had, not to mention he couldn't go anywhere anyway - they didn't trust him, not that he could blame them.

“Well,” Jack started, “I should probably” he pointed his thumb over his shoulder to the door, “get back to solving what going on. Anything else Mr Greyman?”

Derek shook his head, "No, I am fine."

“Very well.” Jack stated, “I’ll send someone down with a light once I get to Engineering” He turned to leave the warm room.

Nodding, Derek stayed where he was as he watched the man leave. The room was very quiet - a disturbing quiet. With no other purpose, he simply waited.

OFF: JP brought to you by:

Lieutenant JG Jack Hawkins
Acting Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38897-B

and

Derek Greyman (PNPC)
played by: