USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

<<USS Malinche>>
<<Corridor, 1630, day 18>>

Two was thinking about P'ayanna and headed back to Engineering. The Klingon wanted to know the next time she heard the collective in her head. Two knew that if she heard the Collective, they would be assimilated. Why would she want to know?

Mark had consulted Commander Hunt about interviewing the new crewmembers just to check if one of them could be a security threat. As Mark knew some of them had some shady past. As he walked through the corridor, he saw the new CEO, Rebeckah Harrison, an ex-borg. "Good. I'll start with her", thought him. He approached her, "Ensign Harrison? Could I have a minute of your time?"

Two stopped. She turned around and looked at the man before her. "Who are you?"

Mark tried not smile. Of course she didn't know him. "I'm sorry. I should introduce myself. I'm Lt. Grayson, Chief Intel officer of the Malinche". He started analyzing her. Her eyes showed no surprise, no emotion at all. That would be an interesting interview.

Why do you want a moment of my time, Lt. Grayson?" she asked him.

"Simple, Ensign. This ship suffered recently sabotage and I'm here to make sure all crewmember, even new ones are not a threat to this ship. As intelligence officer, is my duty to check if you're not a security threat. Maybe we could go to my office? It will only take a few minutes", replied Mark, wondering if the woman knew anything about duplicity or dishonesty. After all Borgs, even ex-borgs didn't have any kind of malice on them.

"As you wish," she told him, indicating that he was to lead. She followed him to his office.

As Mark walked to the Intel officer nearby, he couldn't stop thinking about how a person could be reintroduced into human society after being part of the borg. He knew about Seven of Nine, but, he always thought she would never fit in. They arrived at the Office. Mark entered and indicated a chair to Rebeckah to sit, as he sat behind his desk.

She took the indicated seat. She didn't have anything to do with anyone since she arrived. Her roommates and she all slept in shifts. She had met them all briefly, but that was what it had been, very briefly. She waited for the questioning to begin.

Mark opened her file from his padd. "So, Ensign, It's my understanding that you don't have any relative alive. Do you recall the occasion of your assimilation?", started Mark. He wanted to go slow to give time to her to think.

She looked at him. She didn't remember much. It had happened too long ago. She had been a part of the Borg collective a lot longer than she had not been with them.

"No," she made her answer simple.

Mark nodded very slowly. "I see", replied him. "So, one could say the Borg were family to you, correct?"

"There was no such thing as family, Lt. You were a member of the collective. You did as you were told. I have no family, anywhere. Not here. Not on the Earth. Not on the planet I grew up on. Not with the Collective," she responded blandly.

Mark kept his face straight. She was responding as he predicted. His voice became hard. "So, in your opinion, do you think you should be trusted? After all, being always alone, without reason to actually live, unless your duty, you must feel something about it".

"That is a matter of opinion. Everyone has an opinion on it. P'ayanna told me that she wanted me to tell her if I ever feel the call of the collective. The captain feels that I'm trustworthy. You need to ask her that question, not me," she told him.

Mark's eyes became slits. "Nice diplomatic answer, ensign. But, I'm not asking the captain or other member of the crew I'm asking you. Do you trust yourself enough not to fall back into the Collective fold? It's easy to keep your emotions inside, but, you?re now an individual and as an individual, your opinions are valid and necessary. So answer my question again.? replied Mark, voice cold like ice and his eyes locked in Harrison's eyes.

"I do not hear the collective. To be unified with them, they have to be close enough that I can hear them. I can not assimilate anyone," she told him.

Mark slapped his hand on table. "Meaning what? That if they call you, you?ll go without hesitation? Is your humanity that degraded? Do you want to be human again, Two of Nine?" Mark's voice was harsh and unmerciful. He knew she wouldn't react at that, but would be good for her to understand a bit about loyalty.

"I am not human. I am not borg. I have had to relearn a lot of things that you take for granted. Chances are that I won't hear them until they beam over on the ship. It requires really close contact. I don't see the captain allowing a borg ship to get that close to the Malinche." Where was he getting with this questioning?

"So you're not human and also not a borg. Fantastic concept, ensign. You're a hybrid. You know something that is funny? Oh, right you don't have emotions", said Mark, voice full of sarcasm. He started again. "So, what do you know about the sabotage that have taken place in the Malinche?"

"I was not a part of the initial investigation into the sabotage. I am now looking over the information that Jadan did.? She did not like the sarcasm in his voice.

"Do you still have the need to regenerate, like a borg, ensign?", ask him, changing the direction of the conversation. His tone his voice became light.

"I will always have to regenerate. I have a regeneration chamber in my quarters. f I do not regenerate on a regular basis, I am not able to function as I am required to," she informed him.

Mark noted that in his padd. "You understand that I have to consider every possibility that could be a threat to the ship. Right now, you're not, and I want to make damn sure you're not going to be one. We're done here. Dismissed." With that Mark, started read his notes about the interview. He expected the ensign to get up and get out, silently. Being who she was, he didn't think she would upset by his questions. She was a tortured soul, no doubt about it, but she could become dangerous if she had any contact with the Borg.

With that, she got up and left his office, heading for the engineering before heading home. She wanted to pick up a PADD with Jadan's information on it. She could study it to see if she could figure out what had happened.

Mark waited until she was gone and then let a sigh escape. His job sometimes was hard. What he did was necessary. Captain Kersare probably would have some words about that, but, he acted inside his duties as an Intel officer. He sighed again and returned to his list. Next to be interviewed. Lt. Commander Barrett, a half Maran half human.

OFF: A JP BY

Ensign Rebekah Harrison (Two of Nine)
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-B

and

<Quarters, Day 18, 1700>

P'ayanna rubbed her temples and leaned back in the chair, no longer willing to play with this ridiculous project any longer. Apparently, Ragna had been given more than ample time to go through these patterns, while she had them dumped on her shoulders mere hours ago. Even worse, she had no experience with MVAM and hadn't trained on it. It was almost as if they'd set her up for failure on purpose.

She didn't want to think that was the case, although she would keep a close watch on how Lieutenant Marcus dealt with her in the future. Although she'd prefer to believe that Mister Marcus had truly only desired a fresh look at the ship's pre-formatted attack parameters, she couldn't help but wonder if he were an incompetent DoghwI' who was unable to plan ahead. He wouldn't be the first such petaQ she'd encountered in the fleet and probably wouldn't be the last, either.

Standing, she looked at her reflection in the shared mirror and wondered if, of all things, it was a pleasing one. If she paused to think about it, she would find the thought to be a curious one, completely unbefitting a Klingon warrior, but emotional responses to stimuli sometimes bypassed the introspection of the mind.

Double-checking her work as she walked, P'ayanna passed through the doors and into the passageway. Her assessments of most of the pre-programmed protocols had a common thread. In fact, she found them all to be suboptimal for one reason: the tactics were designed to make the pieces of Malinche dance about like three large vessels in unison instead of acting like three separately crewed, and manned, vessels. By including some variance to the patterns, and more than a small dose of Klingon toQDuj tactics, P'ayanna believed that Malinche would be less predictable and more effective in destroying its enemies.

Her criticism had been voiced before, she knew. During the war with the Dominion, it was seen that Starfleet's reliance on standard combat procedures and maneuvers tended to make poorly crewed ships a little better, while hamstringing the better ones. Innovation was often traded for some idea that a scientifically derived tactic could be better for all involved. Masters, and Doctoral, theses abounded and intellectually based officers pressed these things into the realm of tactics.

Unlike these so-called experts, P'ayanna believed that no war plan truly survived initial contact with the enemy. Her inputs stressed flexibility and ingenuity for each of the ship's subassemblies. Ideally, she could convice Lieutenant Marcus to propose that three separate operators control each of the modules under the command of the Strategic Operations officer to insert some unpredictability and chaos into their procedures.

OFF: <tag to Marcus (if we don't JP it, you'll find it ready for you at 1715) and food for thought for CO>

toQDuj - Bird of Prey
Also, she does not call the ship a 'her' - to her, Malinche is 'it'
_________________
Cadet P'ayanna
Assistant Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Malinche
NCC-38897-B

ON:

== USS Malinche ==
== 1715 Hours, Day 18 ==

Jonathan moved through the corridors toward the mess hall. P'ayanna had contacted him and said she had the report ready for him. She was early, which he liked and was more than he could say for Ragna. Because of ship regulations, she wasn't allowed inside Tactical Astrometrics, so they had to meet some place else. The mess hall seemed as good a place as any. Marcus stepped into the room and looked around for the Klingon woman. When he saw her, he casually walked over to where she was seated.

Since the meeting was of a professional nature, P'ayanna stood as Lieutenant Marcus approached. "I have performed the independent assessment you requested," she said, deliberately throwing in the term 'independent' to voice her displeasure with her comrade.

Marcus took the PADD and carefully looked over the report as he sat down. Her remarks on the patterns were anything but glowing, though they were honest, something he appreciated more than anything else. A few minutes was all he needed to read through the entire report and look up from the PADD at her.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess you're not terribly happy I asked you to do this," he observed with a hint of sarcasm.

P'ayanna's lips flattened. "I did not mean to imply that," she stated. "More time to familiarize myself with the system would have enabled me to produce a better assessment for the Captain."

Jonathan nodded. "I couldn't agree more, unfortunately, time was short. Under normal circumstances, I would've liked you training with Cadet Ragna for MVAM. Perhaps that could still be arranged before we arrived at Celtron V." Marcus watched her carefully, looking for any readable sign, but there were none; she was a Klingon after all. "For the time being, why don't we drop the ranks and why don't you tell me what you really think."

P'ayanna liked this very much. He was not afraid to hear what she might say, positive or negative, which she appreciated. "I think that they are too standard, like many procedures of the DIvI'. We underutilize this capability, this Emm Vamm."

"Underutilize?" Marcus said curiously. "That's a bold statement coming from anyone, but you've got my interest piqued. How do you think we could maximize its usefulness?"

"I am Klingon," she stated, thereby explaining any bold statements she might make. "These patterns are too standard. A single controller cannot innovate in battle as three warships would." She paused to see his reaction.

"I couldn't agree with you more," Marcus nodded, "unfortunately, Starfleet disagrees with both of us. The Prometheus-class starships don't have much in the way of secondary battle bridges. If we could figure out how to have the ships controlled independently, I think you may be on to something. Please, carry on."

"Perhaps we can do this thing," she told him, her eyes flashing. "In this Emm Vamm mode, helm, tactical and operations stations are redundant and meaningless. With approval of the Captain and training, could we not use each console for one module? You would stand beside the Captain and coordinate." She knew it would mean that she would need a lot of training, but it could theoretically be done.

Jonathan was intrigued by her suggestion. "The captain may be reluctant to give one officer that much control. The ship is rigged with holographic emitters and it might be possible to use those to create secondary consoles that would interact with the various sections. We'd have to reroute holo emitters so they didn't get knocked out during a fight, but I think you're on to something."

"I do not believe she would relinquish any control. You would merely oversee the separate operators to ensure our actions are tactically sound. It is the same as before, only you have three officers who would train together to fight in this manner." She was a little amazed that he was giving her idea any thought; her other ship assignment had gotten her very accustomed to being completely ignored.

"I like the idea," Marcus nodded. "I'll run this by the captain at our staff meeting tonight, but if she agrees with this, I'll need your help implementing it and training operators."

"I would be honored, sir," she told him, adding that honorific for the first time. "As we say among my people, Qapla'."

"To both of us," Marcus said with a grin and a nod before he stood and marched out of the mess hall.


OFF

A JP by:

Cadet 4th Year P'ayanna
Assistant Chief Security/Tactical Officer

&
_________________
Lieutenant J.G. Jonathan James Marcus
Chief Strategic Operations Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-B

<<USS Malinche>>
<Sickbay, 1605, Day 18>

Amanda smiled to herself as she returned to sickbay.

"Something funny?" Brad asked.

"Just Mr. Marcus, did you know that we were getting in the way of his job?"

"Oh really," Brad responded, arching an eyebrow. "And here I thought we were looking out for his health."

"I've met his types before," Amanda commented, as they entered thier offices. "Smart enough at what he does, a capable officer in all respects...they just fail to see the little things..including their health sometimes."

"Why did you go down there?"

"Just wanted to do some recon work, after all you did clear him for work. Also, I need to talk to Captain Kersare about getting a medical over-ride for tactical astrometerics."

"We don't have one?" Brad asked.

"Not according to Marcus."

"We should, what if something happens to someone in there? What are we supposed to do, phaser the door down?"

Amanda laughed. "No, we'll just have Grayson and Barrett hotwire the thing."

OFF: For future reference guys, if Walker clears you I won't step on his toes as a medical professional.

ON

<Engineering, day 18, 1600 hours>

What had gotten into everyone? First it was her roommate, P'ayanna, and then the paranoid intel officer, Lt, Grayson. Why was she being asked about her Borg "heritage." Why was it assumed that she could still hear the Collective? She didn't hear them. She was able to barely hear them when she was separated from them in her discussions with Admiral Farrel of the Aquarius.

She headed for her office, trying to try and sort out those two conversations. Why would any CO put his ship in the path of a Borg ship willingly? That was illogical and a plain stupid thing to do. In her opinion, Kerare was anything but stupid. But then again, she had not been on the ship long enough to actually observe the woman. She had spent as much time as she could working on the sabotage.

Should she report Grayson's rudeness to the captain? He was sticking his nose into her business. She was not a hybrid either. She really did not have a race now; she was not accepted by either race. She had thought that she had put that behind her, but maybe she hadn't. P'ayanna and Grayson had pointed that out to her. Maybe both were paranoid? P'ayanna was her roommmate. Should she expect this from her as long as they are roommates.

She put that behind her. She had a job to do. Someone was waiting for a report--an opinion about what had happened to the database. She had not been allowed to examine it herself. She was relying on the notes of the former CEO. It wasn't that they were scant or non-existant--more like she wanted to examine everything herself. Maybe she could find something that everyone else had missed.

She tapped her combadge. "Captain, can I talk to you for a few minutes?"

OFF

Two of Nine

<<USS Malinche>>
<Astrometerics, 1805, Day 18>

Jason, Joey (NPC), and Zero were still in astormeterics...so far they had yet to determine their shadow. It was not something that was sitting well with the trio. Zero was plugged into the ship's main computer, running through the same programs...his abilities were proving most useful thus far.

"Comment: It would appear that the vessel following us is Klingon in origin."

"Thats a bold statement," Joey responded. "Care to explain to us meatbags how you came apon this information."

"Statement: For me to explain would take up valulable time. I do believe that if you adjust your sensors to a phase variance of 0.458 you will find a Klingon Brel class bird of prey directly astern."

"Already on it," Jason responded. His hands flew over the display panel, working through a flurry of screens that kept popping up. Seconds later, Jason had the sensors adjusted....and sure enough there was a ship right where Zero had said it had been.

"Barrett to Kersare."

"Kersare here, go ahead."

"We've located the ship following us...its a Klingon ship, Brel class bird of prey."

"Interesting indeed," Kersare responded. "Do they know we have spotted them?"

"I don't think so...suggestions sir?"

OFF: Tag Captain!

<<USS Malinche>>
<Sickbay, 1700, Day 18>

Brad and Amanda had gone through all the information available on the people of Celtron V. So far, they had yet to determine anything that would actually harm those on the Malinche. They had gone through the latest files; all of which directed them to assume there was no danger.

Brad's terminal beeped. "Walker here, go ahead."

Captain Kersare's face filled the screen. "Evening doctors, sorry to not bring this down to you personally, but I am a bit swamped up here."

"What do you need captain?"

"I've just spoken with fleet command at Darkhelm's request," Brad must not have hid his look of confusion as well as he had hoped. "I take she didn't inform you?"

"Sorry," Amanda said. "I'm used to just dealing with me and not another staff memeber it won't happen again."

"Its ok," Brad responded. "So, what did you need?"

"I've gotten you and the doctor access codes to the tactial astrometerics area for emergency use only....I can't stress that emergency part enough doctors."

"We understand," Brad responded. "Additionally, we've concluded our research on the native diseases and biology of Celtron V, I would say from a medical stand point we are good to go. Although I would like to give the away team members a immuno booster and have them all have physicals at the conclusion of the mission."

"No problem doctor, Kersare out."

OFF:
_________________
Lieutenant Commander Brad Walker
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-B

OLD:
"We've located the ship following us...its a Klingon ship, Brel class bird of prey."

"Interesting indeed," Kersare responded. "Do they know we have spotted them?"

"I don't think so...suggestions sir?"

NEW:
<<Bridge, Day 18, 1810>>

Kersare's head turned as the bridge doors hissed open to admit, of all people, her ranking Klingon. "Standby," she said to her commbadge, before turning. "Cadet," she stated with a meaningful nod.

P'ayanna had intended to relieve the Tactical Station and was a bit surprised that the Captain would wish to speak to her. Nevertheless, she circumnavigated the edge railing and stepped down onto the main floor, just behind the helm station. "Yes, Captain."

Isabel turned to face P'ayanna, "It seems that the ship that is following us is a Klingon Brel class bird of prey. Any thoughts on why they'd be following us?"

P'ayanna's eyes narrowed. "There is only one?"

Quirking her eyebrow, Isabel responded, "We've only been detecting one ship thus far. You believe there are more than one?"

"Only a fool would bring a single toQDuj to confront Malinche," P'ayanna said. "If there is only one, then their intention is not to do battle." P'ayanna paused for a moment, trying to think of any reason the Klingon Empire would care about events on Celtron V, but was coming up blank. "Regardless, they have no honor. As allies, they should not hide their presence from us. I do not trust these petaQ."

Isabel considered her words. P'ayanna's theories seemed perfectly logical. It was rather curious and disturbing that the ship was attempting to hide their presence from the Malinche. Trying to think of a reason for the Klingons to be following the Malinche, Isabel came up blank. They hadn't shown any interest in the Celtronians thus far, so why now? Perhaps something about or on the Malinche? "Cadet P'ayanna, any ideas as to why they would be following us? Or why they would be hiding their presence?"

Folding her arms, she said, "it does not make sense. A Klingon warship should be invisible at this range. This means that they are fools or that they wish for us to know they are here." Her vote was on the former, as the DoghwI' commanding the other ship had placed his vessel in the eddies of Malinche's quad warp field.

"And what do you suggest?"

P'ayanna took a deep breath. Her previous assignments made her wary about expressing suggestions, but the officers on Malinche seemed diametrically opposed to such narrow thinking. "They are Klingon and, therefore, will respect strength. You should challenge them and demand that they reveal their faces like honorable allies, not hide like some gagny nuch." At Kersare's expression, she translated, "nuch means coward."

Isabel looked over at Mason, motioning him next to her, then addressed P'ayanna, "I want you to remain here P'ayanna, I'm going to contact the Klingon vessel." Nodding to Ensign Tamlin(NPC), she stepped into the center of the bridge, "Ensign, open hailing frequencies." A moment later he looked back at her, indicating that he had. She continued, "Klingon vessel, this is Captain Kersare of the USS Malinche. We know you are following us. Show yourselves and state your purpose."

P'ayanna raised her chin in indignation. pe'angegh petaQpu'!" Her voice was a loud shout, one that left no doubt in the species of the speaker. Frowning, she said to Captain Kersare, "I told the cowards to reveal themselves."

"We're losing track," Ensign Weatherbee stated from the Tactical Station. "They're pulling back."

"paH! They are testing their So'wI'," P'ayanna told Kersare. "They wish to assess our ability to find them. We must not trust these Ha'DIbaH."

The longer this continued, the less Isabel liked it. Obviously the Klingons did not want to be found and she could only assume it was because they had something to hide. "Ensign Weatherbee, can you locate the Klingon vessel?"

"They're lost in the scatter. Maybe astrometrics can track them..."

Isabel tapped her comm badge, "Lieutenant Marcus, the Klingon vessel has engaged their cloaking device and we've lost them in the scatter, can you track them?"

P'ayanna didn't like this at all. Still, it would take many toQDuj to defeat Malinche.

Isabel waited for agonizing minutes as precious time was lost... Finally she heard Marcus' voice, "I think I'm picking up something Captain..."

"Where Mr. Marcus? I need coordinates and I need them now," she informed him. For all she knew the Bird of Prey was getting closer and preparing to fire. If they didn't ascertain where the Klingons were now, they would almost certainly be hit, assuming that was the Klingons' intention.

LTJG Marcus' voice came across. "We have loose track, but nothing good enough for targeting."

"Range," Payanna asked.

"Approximately forty thousand kilometers and opening."

P'ayanna was somewhat perplexed. "This is not an attack profile," she stated. Besides, b'rel were not very effective in attacking at warp due to their light torpedo complement. "They are here to watch us." She could predict the Captain's next question, but didn't know the answer. She would want to know why.

Isabel racked her brain....Watching them? For what reason? "It doesn't make sense for them to be watching us unless they're wanting to keep an eye on what we're doing, or have an interest in someone or something on this ship. Cadet, would the Klingons have interest in the affairs of the Celetronians?"

"They are neither strong nor powerful," she said. "Unworthy opponents, at best. Very little trade, as well. I'm sorry, but I do not believe I have answers."

"Do you think the Klingon vessel is any threat to us, since you believe they are solely watching us?"

I do not know. We should be alert for other signs of Klingon presence." She didn't know why they were sneaking about, like romuluSngan petaQ, and she wasn't comfortable with it. Perhaps Intel could shed some light on this mystery.

Isabel nodded. "I want us on yellow alert status as of this moment. Continuous scanning to make sure we don't have any other visitors and so we know the whereabouts of that vessel." Isabel paused, then tapped her comm badge, "Kersare to Grayson. I want you to investigate possible reasons a Klingon Bird of Prey would be watching the Malinche and also any links it might have to the Celtronians. Kersare out."

OFF: tag crew!! Also, I have some specific ideas in mind for the Klingon vessel, so before you do anything drastic, clear it with me first.

JP by

Cadet P'ayanna
Assistant Chief Security/Tactical Officer

and

<<USS Malinche>>
<<Intel Office, 1810, day 18>

Mark was satisfied to know that ensign Harrison had not complained about his behavior to the captain. He had been rude and that had a specific purpose. He wanted to see if Harrison could have an emotional reaction. She didn't show any, which made Mark be certain that ensign could have problems fitting and that, could lead her back to the Borg.

He felt that, for Harrison didn't matter if she was on the Collective or not. That was worrying, because she could be tempted to come back if the Borg actually boarded the ship. He doubted that would happen one day, but, the space was big and too impredictable to deny the possibility.

His badge chirped.

<TAPS>

Kersare: Kersare to Grayson. I want you to investigate possible reasons a Klingon Bird of Prey would be watching the Malinche and also any links it might have to the Celtronians. Kersare out.

<TAP>

Mark blinked. The captain hadn't give the chance of saying anything.

Grayson: *muttering, ironic* Aye, sir, right away sir.

"The Klingons interested in the Celtron Incident. Hmmm...", thought Mark, accessing the Malinche's sensor data. It was a typical Bird of Pray, nothing out of the ordinary.

His friend and intel officer, Mike Derrin (NPC) entered the room. He looked at Mark.

Derrin: Problems?

Grayson: You could say that. The ship is being followed by a Klingon Bird Of Prey and the captain wants to know why would the Klingons be interested on the Celtronian problem.

Derrin sat behind his desk.

Derrin: Do you think they know?

Mark frowned.

Grayson: *throwing his hands up* What's the difference? It's not like THAT is a confidential matter. The Empire must know, we didn't make effort to hide.

Derrin: *sounding doubtful* You know that the Klingon Intelligence is quite, uh...

Grayson: Picky about the info they give the High Council? Ha! Like we're not picky with the Federation Council. *thoughts for a second* Hmmm... Let's contact HONORED.

Derrin:*shocked* Our source inside the Klingon High Council... *worried tone* Mark, that is way over our heads, we need to clear that with Intelligence HQ. HONORED ONE is a very big source to us and the Celtron incident may not considered worth the risk to expose him.

Mark sighed. Derrin was right. But, to stop avoid war, to save innocent lifes not being worth of the risk bothered him. In the past he would agree with that, but, now... It was just not fair with the Celtronians.

Grayson: I know HONORED ONE. If you recall, Mike, I saved his hide from the prison during the Dominion War. He has a debt of honor to me.

Derrin: That is the second time you're putting your career at risk. And for what? An information that may not be relevant at the end. Be reasonable, Mark.

Grayson: *Irritated* Look, Mike, my contact with HONORED ONE will not go to my report, and I erase the damn comm log. Of course, the captain will want to know the reason I erased the comm log and I will tell her the truth. She's an officer, she will understand why all the secrecy. I doubt she will report either. If I don't start trusting the captain, things won't work here. Is that clear? Your job is to check other sources and see which ship is out there. The name of the ship, the ship officers and so on. You got that?

Derrin knew Mark enough time not to argue with him anymore. He nodded and started working. Mark sighed. Mike was a good friend but, damn, sometimes, he was way by-the-book to Mark's tastes.

Grayson looked at his console and tapped several key codes. The contact with HONORED ONE was not a visual one. It was done by text signals, encrypted and disguised as static. The old Klingon would be happy to see Mark's signature on the text, but it would make him worried by the question. No matter, HONORED ONE had a debt to pay and Klingons were very serious about paying their debts.

Five minutes later the message was sent, using the proper codes and Id's necessaries to get to the Empire. In two hours tops, Mark was sure he would have the info he wanted.

He just wished by the time the info arrived, wouldn't be too late.

OFF: tag crew.

OLD:

Isabel nodded. "I want us on yellow alert status as of this moment. Continuous scanning to make sure we don't have any other visitors and so we know the whereabouts of that vessel." Isabel paused, then tapped her comm badge, "Kersare to Grayson. I want you to investigate possible reasons a Klingon Bird of Prey would be watching the Malinche and also any links it might have to the Celtronians. Kersare out."

NEW:

<Bridge, Day 18, 1830>

P'ayanna walked over to the tactical console, her mind racing to put the pieces of the puzzle into some form or order. They were being pursued by a vessel that appeared more intent on shadowing them than confronting them. Even worse, they hid their faces when found, proving that they had no honor. Tactially, she didn't like being in a situation where she was stuck trying to try and ascertain the motive of Klingons who'd forsaken the path of qey'lIS.

Klingons were generally so easy to understand, especially for P'ayanna. The ways of honor were narrow ways and they tended to place order in what would otherwise be a very complicated society. Surely, the DIvI', with their cowardly ways had difficulty understanding them, but that was not a problem the P'ayanna shared.

"I am ready to relieve you," she told Ensign Weatherbee.

"Well, you know what's happening with the Bird of Prey. Anything else?"

"I have no questions," P'ayanna told her. There was nothing to turn over when they were engaged in warp transits. "Has anything been discovered in the latest batch of level two diagnostics?"

Carol frowned at the reminder of their additional workload. It was nothing but pure busywork because her department had the good fortune of picking up a Klingon. A Klingon who seemed to be the Captain's new Golden Girl. How unfair could things be? "They're still in progress."

P'ayanna gave a dour frown. "They were due by sixteen hundred."

"Other things came up. Honestly, we have real jobs to do, jobs that are much more important than extra checks on systems that already work."

"Holodeck and lounge privileges are revoked for the entire department until they are done," P'ayanna stated. "Qapla'."

"Phuh," Ensign Weatherbee chuffed. She couldn't believe this! "Aye," she mumbled, deciding to go and see Lieutenant Thundera about this as soon as she could.

OFF:
_________________
Cadet P'ayanna
Assistant Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Malinche
NCC-38897-B

ON:

== Tactical Astrometrics ==
== 1815 Hours, Day 18 ==

"Sir," Ensign Rachel Lyran (NPC) called out from the center station in the cavernous room, "astrometric sensors are coming in range of Celtron V." She turned to face Jonathan Marcus as he moved away from the console he'd been occupying on the far wall.

"Let's see it," he said as he came to stop next to her. Rachel's hands danced gracefully over the panel as she manipulated the data and brought it onto the massive screen looming above them. At first, the computer generated images were blurry, which was to be expected since they were still at least 2 days out, but they were traveling at warp 8 right now, meaning with every minute that passed, they got closer and the resolution of the images increased.

"Hard to believe we can be seeing this while we're still so far away," she remarked, half to herself and half to her superior officer. Marcus had no response for her comment, but instead, turned his attention to the data that was streaming in from the astrometric sensors. There wasn't much to go on, but it would have to do for now.

"K'vhell (NPC), can you boost power to the imaging array?"

The Klingon nodded and turned back to his console, working to clear the image up as much as he could. Undoubtedly, they were too far away, but that didn't matter right now; they needed all the information they could gather for the captain. Conjecture did them no good, hard facts were the only thing that mattered. After several minutes, the burly Klingon turned back toward the other two officers and confirmed that he had done as requested. The image cleared up some more.

"Looks like there are several starships in orbit," Rachel said, reading the data off the panel. Marcus prodded her for more information, but she didn't have much. "They appear to be smaller ships, maybe scout ships or light cruisers."

"K'vhell, contact Grayson and find out what kind of starships the Celtronians have," Marcus ordered. "Rachel, try to get me as much resolution on these images as you can."

<< tag Grayson >>

"There's not a lot to work with," she said, shaking her head.

"I'm sure you can handle it," he said with a smile, not as sincere as it looked. Minutes passed by in agony as they worked to clear up as much data as they could. The last thing Jonathan wanted was to take this information to the captain and not have as many facts as possible. It took nearly 30 minutes for the data to be conclusive enough.

"What's going on with those ships?" Marcus asked.

"I don't know," Rachel said shaking her head.

"Can you at least get power signatures?"

"We are still too far away," K'vhell replied.

"Ship classifications?" Rachel shook her head. "So all we know is that there are two scouts ships in orbit of the planet."

"Actually, sir, we're not sure how many there are," Rachel corrected.

"Great. I'd say given what we know of the situation on Celtron V, we can assume it's probably some kind of stand off. Keep an eye on everything, if either of those ships decides to open fire, I wanna know before the phasers hit the other hull." Jonathan tapped his comm badge. =^= "Marcus to Kersare."

"Kersare here," he heard.

"Captain, we're getting our first look at Celtron V now; I'd like to share what we have with you, though it's not much."

"I'll be in my Ready Room," she replied. =^= Marcus tapped his comm badge, closing the channel. He gathered what data he had and put it on a PADD. He snatched the PADD off the console with the information P'ayanna had put together for him. As he expected, Ragna's report still wasn't in; he'd have to go to Kersare without it.

=^= "Marcus to Ragna, your report is late. If you have any sense, you'll make sure it's in my hand before I get to the Captain's Ready Room." =^= Jonathan walked out of the room and headed for the bridge.

<< tag Kersare >>


OFF
_________________
Lieutenant J.G. Jonathan James Marcus
Chief Strategic Operations Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-B

<<USS Malinche>>
<Astrometrics, 1815, Day 18>

Jason and Joey (NPC) were still in astrometrics, working on a way to better detect thier apparent followers. So far, things were not going as planned. The doors opened, admitting Brad Walker, one of thier medical officers.

"This is getting aggravating," Joey responded, looking at his display. "It looks like someone has boosted the power to he arrays...sir there is something else going on here."

"Define something else?" Jason asked, walking over behind his officer. Zero (NPC) looked over his shoulder as well, apparently intrigued, as did Brad.

"Whats up?" Brad asked.

"Statement: Curious, it appears that when the array power was boosted it also boosted the signal strength of the carrier wave."

"Sir!" Joey snapped, bringing thier attention to the display. "I'm detecting a secondary signal, its buried in the carrier wave....its copying the database!"

"Cut the link!" Jason snapped.

"Statement: I do not beleive that he can, it appears the secondary carrier wave is tunneling into the intellgience and strategic operations files."

"Dammnit!" Jason snapped. "Lock out the strat ops database."

"We can't," Joey responded. "We have to do that from strat ops, it was set up that way to prevent such a thing."

"Comment: Curious, it appears the signal is not orginating from the same area."

"What do you mean?" Jason snapped. "It's not coming from the Klingon ship?"

"No."

"We'll worry about that later."

They rushed out the door, Brad close on thier heels. They took the turbolift up a level before stumbling on the doors to the strat ops astrometrics area. It was guarded, both looking somewhat confused at the sudden appearence of the three officers.

"Ensign, I need in there now."

"I'm sorry sir, you aren't allowed..."

Jason tapped his combadge. "Lt. Barrett to Marcus."

"Marcus here."

"Lt., I need in strat ops. Someone or something is trying to crack your database."

"I highly doubt that..."

"Comment: The signal will break the encrpytion sequence in less then 45 seconds."

Walker stepped forward. "Computer, override security protocol, emergency medical authorization Walker Beta Gamma Alpha Charlie."

The door slide open and Jason rushed forward, followed closely by Joey, Brad, and Zero. The ensigns that were guarding the door looked at each other before shooting protests and running into the room.

"Shut down the database, now!" Jason ordered.

OFF: Tag All!

ON:

== Strategic Ops ==
== 1815 Hours, Day 18 ==

Jonathan wasn't even out the door when they slid open in front of him. Casually his eyes rose from the PADD he was reading to the incoming group of people. Everything became a blur as Barrett barked out orders. Before anyone could react, every single monitor in the room went dark. The group that had burst into the room looked around with panic at the blank monitors, fearing the worst had just happened.

"Shut it down, Lieutenant," Jason repeated.

Marcus was upset, that much was clear from his facial expression: a furrowed brow and hard-set jaw. Calmly, he turned back to face his two officers as Barrett began to repeat his order. Jonathan cut him off. "Computer, initiate strategic operations database disconnect, authorization Marcus 11 Phi."

"Stragetic operations database disconnect complete," the computer relayed.

"That was close," Barrett sighed.

Jonathan whipped around. "None of you are authorized to be in here."

"You're welcome," Brad said, a slight pant in his voice from the run.

"There's only one person that could've authorized those doors open and only one reason to authorize it," Marcus growled. "Medical emergency overrides to strategic ops when there is no emergency is illegal, regardless of the situation."

"Sir," Rachel Lyran (NPC) said quietly from behind Marcus, "we need to clear them from the room before we can keep working." Strategic Ops was designed to shut down if unauthorized personnel entered; right now, there were several unauthorized personnel.

"Lieutenant, we stopped a security breach," Walker said.

"And broke a handful Starfleet regulations while you were at it," he said. "The captain will be hearing about this." Jonathan turned to Rachel. "Send Grayson all the information on this alleged attempt to break in to our database, see if he can piece it together."

<< tag Barrett, Grayson, Walker >>


OFF

You know me, gotta make things interesting.
_________________
Lieutenant J.G. Jonathan James Marcus
Chief Strategic Operations Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-B

<<USS Malinche>>
<Strategic Ops, 1815 Hours, Day 18>

Jason rolled his eyes, he had met officers like Marcus before...and he wasn't all that impressed.

"You can take it up with the captain all you want Lt," Jason responded. Keeping his voice calm and even. "But the fact of the matter is without our intervention several parts of the startegic operations database would be in the hands of someone else."

"You weren't authorized to enter here," Marcus responded, looking at Walker. "And your authorization code was only supposed to be used in an emergency."

"Statement: I do believe that without there help your database would be in the hands of a less then diserable meatbag."

"Meatbag?" Marcus snapped, arching an eyebrow.

Joey ushered Zero out of the room.

Jason smiled and then turned back to Marcus. "One more thing Marcus, you're welcome."

With that said, they all turned and left start ops in the hands of the very annoyed and very capable officer.

OFF:

<<USS Malinche>>
<Sickbay, 1830, Day 18>

Brad returned to sickbay, slightly annoyed at Marcus's attention to the minor infractions as opposed to the fact that they just saved the database from certain destruction. He hoped that he could explain things to Captain Kersare...if not he and the others might be looking for another job.

He opened a channel to Kersare. "Dr. Walker to Captain Kersare."

"Go ahead."

"I am guessing that Marcus made you aware of whats happened?"

"As has Barrett."

"I wanted to say that I was sorry sir...I know that using my authorization code was...well less then what it was intended for. Lt. Barrett lead me to believe that the database was in immideate danger."

OFF: Tag Captain!
_________________
Lieutenant Commander Brad Walker
Chief Medical Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-B