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Post by K'nara Corval on Jun 13, 2009 19:15:05 GMT
On
"What can be more important than this research?" hissed S'Hauen Vreenak, the Dark Phoenixs latest VIP guest.
K'Nara caught Naois's look willing her to not raise to snapping at the delegate and mentally counted to ten as her counselor had instructed her in their ongoing anger management techniques.
One, two, three, four, five . . . .
"This is ridiculous. Have you any idea how long I have petitioned for this project?" he demanded.
"There is a very good reason Professor," K'Nara stated as calmly as she could. Naois nodded looking pleased.
"There can be no good reason," the alien retorted angrily. "I will be informing the Romulan Praetorate of this and holding you firmly responsible. This experiment has to go ahead, do you understand me. As soon as possible."
Six, seven
"If you would allow me to explain."
"Explain, you better have a damm good explanation as to why we are suddenly at warp . . .well I don't know what warp but we are heading in the wrong direction. You need to turn this ship around right now. I demand it."
The Vulcan counselor cocked an eyebrow knowing full well she wasn't going to take that . . . . pleasantly.
Standing up taller, deciding she had had enough of being torn strips off by a romulan male of all beings and to Gre'Thor with trying to please Naois Mercy in this instance with progress, K'Nara bared down at him.
"The Dark Phoenix has encountered a distress call from a federation ship in the vicinity of Angel One. I do not care how important starting your research project is," she glared down at him, "A rescue mission takes precidence in all matters. And by all means report me to your government, I really don't give a . . . ."
"Captain," Naois finally jumped in.
<Naois>
K'Nara fought the urge to grab the alien by his head, instead folding her arms infront of her so not to let herself. Okay she had started to loose her temper but she was not going to get courtmarshalled for grieveous bodily harm to an alien delegate. Not on her first outing as Captain of the ship anyway.
So instead she stood there and tryed the counting again as the Romulan had a hissy fit, then calmed down somewhat. More to Naois's words than the fact he actually cared about other peoples lives in her view. It took counting to 140 before he left.
As the vulcanoid looked at her, face emotionaless as usual though she was fully aware he was disappointed, K'Nara got in first.
"I didn't kill him," she said innocently.
<Naois>
K'Nara allowed the lecture. Purely because in the back of her heart, she knew he was right but more importantly, since she had offered the position to this man she had promised to try change. So she smiled, or at least attempted too but it came out more intimidating than she wanted.
"I will take it onboard counselor, now we have work to do." The vulcanoid followed her out of the ready room back onto the bridge as she demanded one of the new staff from their last intake patch her through to the entire ship.
"Corval to all senior staff. Please report to the meeting room immediatly."
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Post by Mel D'BrooNi on Jun 13, 2009 20:29:57 GMT
JP with Valeia and Mel
Flipping her tricorder closed, Valeia smiled happily at the newly formed little family.
“Everything looks great, Mel. You and D’BrooNi are both in good health, and baby is doing wonderfully.” Reaching out to gently trace the side of little Patrick’s face, the doctor added, “And he is just about the most adorable thing I have ever seen. I know I say this every time, but congratulations again you two. You did very well."
"Thank you," Mel said dreamily as she kissed her first born lightly on the head. Then her whole demeanour changed. "If only mum could be awake to see him. Do you think they can hear you in comas? Her smile also fading, Valeia felt a tiny surge of guilt that she had been unable to wake her friend’s mother. “It’s difficult to say for certain in specific cases, but it is generally acknowledged that many coma patients can hear what is said to them,” the doctor replied, being sure to stay professionally honest in spite of just wanting to comfort Mel. “There hasn’t been any further trouble, and the surgeries went very well, so those are good things. It may just take some time for her body to adjust to the changes and feel stable enough to wake up. I wouldn’t give up hope just yet.”
Mel nodded, as Ian hugged her. "She’s just resting up honey. Ready to spoil this one rotten when she’s awake. You did just great Doc; we know how difficult those surgeries were." Mel nodded. Valeia didn't get to respond though as the voice of the Klingon captain cut through the room requesting all senior officers to the bridge. Mel suddenly looked torn.
Exchanging a brief look with Ian, Valeia could feel Mel’s struggle and desperately wanted to help her. “I’m sure that the Captain would understand if you sent Charlie this time, Mel. You did just have Patrick after all and with your mother still here...
Mel let out a deep breath. "No," she smiled at Ian. "We knew there would be times like this, just never imagined it would be so soon. I have to leave him eventually and its not going to get any easier the longer I leave it. Besides Charlie would crumble in a senior staff meeting with K'Nara over a distress call."
She smiled at both Ian and Valeia's surprised faces then explained. "We jumped straight from warp 7 to warp 9.9. It has to be a distress call and no I didn't sneak back to engineering. I felt my engines underfoot." She kissed Patrick again and handed him to Ian. "Mummy will teach you how to do that one day darling."
Glad to see Mel acting just like Mel and amazed at how well she was handling all of this, Valeia grinned in Ian’s direction and moved with the engineer to the door. “Can you teach me how to do that?” the doctor teased. “I can barely tell that there’s been a change, let alone which direction we’re heading or how fast we’re going.”
"I'm proud of you baby," Ian said reassuringly after Mel as they left then addressed Patrick.” So then, how’s about you and me go talk to grandma?"
Mel smiled at Ian and then turned her attention to Valeia's question. Happy to have something else to think about. "Well its strange really. Im guessing it’s kind of like your Betazoid meditations. You know, where you can focus in on a heartbeat? The engines to me are like the ships heartbeat. My body can just focus in. So much time travelling at different speeds. They just have a feel of their own. Warp 9.9 feels like a distress call anyway. Does that make sense at all?" she asked her friend as they exited sickbay.
“It probably would if I had any idea how Betazoid meditation works,” Valeia joked, although she quickly changed the subject. “Seriously, Mel, I’m proud of you too. I don’t know if I’d be doing so well juggling my job with my family as well as you are. I think I would be an absolute mess,” the doctor confessed as the entered the lift. “I know Naois wants kids badly, but I’m not so sure if I’m cut Out for motherhood..."
Sweep my emotions a little deeper and you will see I’m totally a mess just putting up a good front." She smiled at Valeia again. "But the thing is everyone’s got to learn. Mum did with Tay and me, Peter has with his kids. You pick it up. And I have no doubts; you will make a wonderful mother. No more of that talk! Now close your eyes and try feel the engines through your feet and I'll let Charlie Know he’s off the hook."
Doing as she was told, Valeia tried to feel the engines, but got distracted almost immediately. In a way, she knew Mel was right but still had plenty of doubts. After all, she had meant dealing with things outwardly, as the Betazoid wasn’t exactly good at internalizing her emotions or putting them aside most of the time. Once her eyes closed, all she found was more doubt. Once Mel’s comm. call was done, the doctor’s eyes opened again. “Clearly I’m not meant to be an engineer... I can barely feel them now that they’re stabilized at a speed…whatever speed that may be. But I can feel the energy and stress level of the crew is up,” she commented.
Mel nodded. "Understandable. Come one lets find out what this is all about," She said to her friend as the turbo lift doors opened again.
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Post by Naois Mercy on Jun 14, 2009 19:53:53 GMT
Naois pulled his face into the most stoic mask he could muster. "No captain, you did not," he agreed with her, inclining his head ever so slightly. "I could sense your annoyance, but you reigned it in. Well done. Perhaps in a few more sessions, you may not need my further assistance. I am proud to comment that you have come a very long way ma'am."
He listened as she called a staff meeting. "On the other hand captain, I do strongly suggest that security keeps an eye on him." He nodded after the retreating Romulan. "I do believe that he may pose a threat, while we deal with a distress call. He seems very...what was the Human expression? Hell bent? On getting to his research subjects."
Quietly, he followed the Klingon into the briefingroom, taking his seat in silence. A PADD lay before him on the desk, but it was currently switched off. Folding his fingers before him, he took a moment to close his eyes and ban the confrontation with the Romulan from his mind. He knew, once Peter would enter the room, he would quickly sense his annoyance, and there would be questions later.
For the first officer's sake, he needed to compose himself, lest the man would get the wrong idea. Sometimes, serving with such a strong telepath, who could pick your brains even without a conscious intent to do so, was quite troublesome. And while he knew how to shield, Naois knew he was no match for Commander Horn.
He offered a very brief smile as he saw Valeia enter, dropping his mental shields equally briefly to allow her to sense a thought of love, before he clamped them back into place. He felt he had come a long way in his own control, especially when he was on duty. And especially so, when dealing with their Klingon commanding officer. Tilting his face up, he posed himself to listening to the mission briefing.
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Post by Dacian Peractio on Jun 25, 2009 13:06:27 GMT
Dacian exited the holodeck, still sweating from the intensive workout given to him by the Breen assassins. Vincenzo Castarelli, the recently appointed Sergeant of the marine contingent, stood waiting for him outside. Clearing the drops of perspiration still stubbornly sticking to his arms, Dacian greeted him.
"Yes. Sergeant?" he asked with a marginal grin.
"The men want to know when the ship's going to get started," Vincenzo said without ceremony.
"Well," Dacian said, slinging a towel over his shoulder as they began walking, "I believe there's a senior staff meeting before long. That's when I'll be finding out. I'll take notes for you if you like..."
Vincenzo shook his head and finally cracked a smile as they entered the quartermaster's for the marine platoons. "I guess you would take notes anyway?"
"Not necessarily." Dacian approached a wall with a rack of phaser rifles, "I'm tempted to run the simulator again," he said, picking up a phaser rifle and checking its power cell. "Those Breen use the shadows to their advantage, and are greatly proficient."
"Forget the Breen, Peractio. Why don't we run a simulation with the Orion? Using a lot of us."
"In due time," Dacian said, looking up only briefly as he was still running his checks on the rifle. If there was one thing about Starfleet, they made good phaser rifles. The standard issue for the marines was a slightly different type of assault rifle, Peractio did not favour it massively over the Starfleet one, and he would be using the latter in a simulation not long from now.
"The men are getting itchy, especially Lorenzo," Vincenzo warned.
"Lorenzo is always itchy. They'll have to wait; on a Starfleet vessel there are certain rules that have to be abided by, if they're not ready for it I will - I admit begrudgingly - have to begin to look for replacements."
Blakus Peractio headed for the briefing room once he'd cleaned himself in the sonic shower and given himself a fresh uniform. One without the tears and scrapes with left-over coagulated blood - both Human and Breen. That Breen soldier whom had swooped at him from the rafters above caused a greater wound than he thought possible - even though the holodeck safeties had been purposely set by him at fifty percent.
"Reporting for briefing," he said as he crossed the threshold of the briefing room, "Please excuse my tardy disposition." He took his seat without further ceremony.
<K'nara Corval>
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Post by K'nara Corval on Jun 27, 2009 7:08:55 GMT
K'Nara cocked an eyebrow at the new marine and addressed him. "Do not make it a habit."
Then she was straight to business. "We are responding to a distress call from a Betazoid transport. The Luxanna Troi," She winced slightly at the name knowing which individual that had been named after and how much a pain in the ass she had been on occasion for the federation. "They were in the vicinity of Angel one and were to assist that planets government with their current situation."
She cast a look at Peter Horn trusting him to jump in if she hadn't understood this right. "Angel one's society is currently in turmoil. Traditionally it has always been a matriarchal society but recently groups within the society have been trying to change things to an equal gendered society."
K'Nara cast a look at Tak Science. Klingon society was not particually sexist nor the Federation in general but to her knowlegde the Kzinti were of the view that women were not valued. She hoped this situation was not going to be difficult on the Cat alien, who's society was completely the opposite - Patriarchal.
To date, she had not had any complaints of him making any inappropiate comments to female staff or treating them any different. He seemed to accept her authority but she had proven herself as a warrior in his eyes. Mel and Valeia had certainly never come to her with any issues. But on the other hand it was apparent that the alien keep himself very much to himself.
"Mr Horn, please continue." K'Nara reached for her cup and took a sip of Raktajino while the Vulcanoid played the recording of the distress call for the table.
<Horn>
Afterwards the Klingon opened the floor up for comments.
<All>
Listening to the discussion, K'Nara noticed that Valeia had not said much and looked as if she was trying to place something.
"Doctor," she questioned her. "Have you had dealings with this ship before or know someone on the crew?"
Tag <Valeia/Everyone>
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Post by Tak Science on Jun 30, 2009 4:28:56 GMT
Tak Science thought a great deal about the Troi. He realized that K'nara Corval was probably assuming that he was going to be sexist regarding the case of Angel One. However, he was indeed, not so. Instead, he had accepted this mission based only on the ideas that the mission was under the authority of the aforementioned K’nara Corval. There was nothing to that degree that he questioned.
Unbeknownst to him, she had actually thought of these things. She had considered the fact, of course, that he had accepted her regarding the fact that he was, indeed, considering her to be the proud and capable warrior that she was. However, that was the reason he was accepting the mission. Based on her points of view. That was, to say, that he was considering the mission to be acceptable due to her command over him.
Thinking about the Troi, he wondered about the name for a moment. He understood that it was rather unusual, and sometimes considered rude, for there to be use of a name for a vessel that was of an individual who had not been dead for a long period of time. Therefore, thinking of Troi’s current conditions, it seemed rather strange to utilize that name.
However, he also thought, she was an individual who had been far too loud for anything to have stopped her from receiving whatever commendation or recommendation she had wished. Therefore, she very well could have demanded that her name be attached. A case which, of course, sickened Tak Science.
Such was the Kzinti obsession with honor.
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Post by Commander Peter Horn on Jun 30, 2009 20:12:26 GMT
Peter rose to his feet, walking to the wall display, replaying the distress signal that was received earlier. "As you can see, our assistance is required," he continued, "though we have to move with great caution as the women will probably not hesitate to strike first. Security teams should consist of mostly women, as should the first contact party, where the women are concerned. I strongly suggest Captain Corval leads the away team, however if she so orders, I will do so myself. However I believe it is wiser that I meet with the insurgents instead."
That wasn't going to be the wisest option, clearly, but it wasn't to be helped. Starfleet's hierarchy simply didn't work the same way as some on a planet/colony did. The women would just have to accept that when dealing with Starfleet, they were going to deal with male officers. "However since we are coming to the aid of the Troi and the people on the colony, we will have to be extremely cautious. The insurgents may be the ones leading an attack on us, regardless of our neutrality in this matter."
He paused. "Security will have to exercise a certain firmness but be steadfast in their own opinions. We are not here to judge, merely to keep the peace. Are there any questions?"
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Post by Dr. Valeia Roquel Mercy on Jul 1, 2009 4:11:18 GMT
"We are responding to a distress call from a Betazoid transport, the Lwaxana Troi. They were in the vicinity of Angel One and were to assist the planet’s government with their current situation. Angel One's society is currently in turmoil. Traditionally, it has always been a matriarchal society, but recently, groups within their society have been trying to change things to an equal gendered society,” K’Nara informed them before glancing at the First Officer and adding, “Mr. Horn, please continue."
Wordlessly, Peter stood to access the console and began a playback of the audio recording of the transport’s distress call. Already having begun shifting into medical mode, the doctor listened intently for any clues to what lay ahead. The transmission was somewhat garbled and filled with static, but the message was still discernable. =/\=This is the transport…Troi to any vessel within range. We are under fire from the planet’s surface and require immediate assist... Half of the diplomats are still being held. We had to leave...in order to escape. Our engines are badly damaged, and we are having trouble getting…weapon’s range. Please, we require im…=/\=
The last static faded as the transmission ended, and Commander Horn turned to address the group. "As you can see, our assistance is required, though we have to move with great caution as the women will probably not hesitate to strike first. Security teams should consist of mostly women, as should the first contact party, where the women are concerned, and I strongly suggest Captain Corval leads the away team; however, if she so orders, I will do so myself. However, I believe it is wiser that I meet with the insurgents instead,” Peter recommended, causing Valeia to wonder what her part in all of this would be. She may have been a woman and a senior officer, but she mostly considered herself a doctor rather than any sort of diplomat.
“However, since we are coming to the aid of the Troi and the people on the colony, we will have to be extremely cautious. The insurgents may be the ones leading an attack on us, regardless of our neutrality in this matter. Security will have to exercise a certain firmness but be steadfast in their own opinions. We are not here to judge, merely to keep the peace. Are there any questions?" Peter asked in conclusion. Once he began to talk about security, Valeia’s mind had started to wander to her own medical concerns. She wasn’t hearing how many diplomats were on the ship and the surface or how many crewmembers were assigned to the transport. In her mind at least, a diplomatic contingent shouldn’t consist of too many, but the doctor had little experience to know for sure. She also had no idea how large a Betazoid transport was, and therefore, how many crewmembers. Her gut feeling was that most likely this emergency could be handled in sickbay with a small possibility of requiring the establishment of a small triage center located in one of the cargo bays.
"Doctor, have you had dealings with this ship before or know someone on the crew?"
Started by the sudden question, Valeia scrambled to figure out what she was asked, and after a silent cue from Naois, managed to answer, “Not that I know of, Captain.”
Being Betazoid, the doctor could understand the question, but because she hadn’t returned to Betazed since leaving at age eight nor kept in contact with anyone on her home planet, for all intents and purposes, Valeia was practically human rather than Betazoid. Pushing away these somewhat unpleasant thoughts, Doctor Mercy redirected her focus to her earlier questions. “I will need a general idea of the crew compliment of the transport and the group of diplomats so I can better prepare for the scale of the medical emergency before we get there,” she requested politely.
The Dark Phoenix had been extremely close to Angel One, and so they were only an hour or so away, so Valeia was eager to get to sickbay and make preparations. Once the briefing was over, the doctor would be rushing out to get her staff ready.
~
Onboard the Troi, the group of diplomats huddled in the cargo bay where they’d all been beamed from the planet’s surface without the rest of their delegation. Trying to brace themselves against the walls or any cargo containers they could find, the half dozen Betazoids were trying to stay together among the dozens of Angel One civilians who had been rescued with them. Most of the crowd had injuries of some kind, either caused by the fire fight at the conference or the bombardment of their ship. While the non-Betazoids cried out in fear and pain and spoke rapidly to each other, the telepaths were outwardly silent, communicating in a similarly panicked manner among their minds. The lights and power flickered on and off sporadically as the deck shuddered beneath their feet, and dipped and jolted with each strike.
“Enough!” commanded a strong, female voice telepathically. A strained, pale face edged with determination met the eyes of the other five diplomats firmly. Her dark, barely graying hair was cascading from the now unkempt confines the bun, down her purple clad shoulders, streaked with dust and grease and across her dirty and bloodied forehead. “We are all to remain calm and to assist the others. We must maintain the composure befitting our status,” she insisted firmly even as a jolt sent her lurching sideways into an unmarked container, striking her badly injured ribs.
Still, her ‘voice’ held enough authority, and the mental chattering ceased, although the tension remained. With the constant jolting and light flickers, there was nothing any of them could actually do to help without risking serious injury themselves, and even if the situation stabilized, none of the diplomats had any medical training, but that didn’t lessen the impact of the orders. Brushing aside a frazzled strand of hair that insisted on falling into her eyes, Kalarin gripped the container as tightly as she could to keep her balance while trying to push back her own worries. Her husband, Aurien, was among those being held prisoner on the planet, and she was terrified. Still, as they were the diplomatic leaders, she had to try and set a good example, and the formidable woman wasn’t the type to back down or cower, ever. Gripping the container as tightly as her internal grip on her emotions, Kalarin simply waited.
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Post by Tak Science on Jul 16, 2009 7:27:43 GMT
“Ah, this is so problematic. This is not necessarily a condition I want to be undergoing. I am still tied to the actions of a woman and there is nothing that I might do to stop it. Instead, I am doing another individual’s job,” the internal dialogue went, marching about in his head as he thought about the conditions that were surrounding this mission. It was still quite uncomfortable to him. He did not like the idea, but now, it was made worse. After all, he was a Science officer! He was not a security officer, but here he was, readying himself for guard duty. The daily duty roster had assigned quite a few individuals to such. After all, the oncoming system was going to require them. With the extra diplomats aboard, there was a sudden need for quite a few extraneous security persons. It had seem that a wayward comment a while back by either Peter Horn or Naois Mercy, he could not remember which, that stated that though he was a science officer, he would be quite successful at working in security. At the time he was operating on an investigations mission with whoever it was. However, he was still a science officer both then and now. Moreover, he did have important, albeit unrelated research, which needed to be conducted. Never the less, here he was with a phaser rifle in paw, taking shots at practice targets on the phaser range. Of course, he was a warrior and he had trained for the Kzinti Police Force. However, to him this did not make any excuse for a temporary reassignment, especially when such orders were being given through the cold auspices of a computer system. OOC: By the way, if anyone remembers which RP that was, would they let me know? I really cannot remember if it was Peter Horn or Naois Mercy that said that
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Post by Dacian Peractio on Jul 23, 2009 11:13:48 GMT
OOC: Sincerest apologies for my disappearance, it will not happen again if I can help it.
Dacian wore a permanent expression of amusement throughout the briefing, nothing too obvious, but enough that someone would've queried him on it if they'd been free to speak as such. This whole situation with Angel One, whose sociopolitical system he had no clue about, was completely preposterous in his eyes. The fact that a civil war with a grounding in terrorism had broken out, all because of gender inequality, showed him already that this would be a very difficult people to deal with.
Just as the Captain seemed ready to end the briefing, Dacian finally piped up with a question. "Commander Horn... will my marines have a role in all of this?"
He supposed that, given the fact that this was an internal matter of Angel One's populace, the presence of heavily armed Marines would cause no end of problems. And in addition, considering that ninety percent of his contingent were male, it might seem like some sort of joke to the matriarchs. As much as Peractio loathed that idea...
Once the briefing was finally ended, Peractio stood and looked around the table, looking at each individual and preparing to introduce himself to them one by one.
They exited the room, coming out on to the bridge. "Dacian Blakus Peractio," he said by way of introduction, turning to each staff member in turn, smiling as a friend would and offering a handshake in each case, or whichever form of physical greeting they preferred. Or in the two Mercys' case, whom he'd already met, he simply said hello again.
* * *
"So how did it go?"
"Hmm" Dacian grunted. "Fine. We're soon to be embroiled in the diplomatic crisis of an unaligned world."
Vincenzo's face lit up. "Great!" he said, "When do we start?"
Dacian looked at him with mild disbelief. Vincenzo was like a child sometimes, eagerly waiting for the next toy, the next curiosity for him to try his hand in. Well he had some bad news for him: "It may be that we have to stay out of this one, for the time being. As this society is female dominant, male soldiers armed to the teeth might cause unnecessary friction."
Peractio had himself well braced for Vincenzo's following display of disgust. He understood his Sergeant's reaction, he himself was none too happy at having his marines potentially cast to the side for the time being, all because of trying to satisfy the needs and expectancies of an alien society with their own problems and insecurities.
But if he wanted to be seen as acting in a mature and responsible way, then he'd have to stick it out until the real action started. Still, he'd be on call if his presence was required.
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Post by Commander Peter Horn on Jul 23, 2009 14:25:03 GMT
Peter shifted his gaze over to the senior marine officer. He hadn't really considered the marine involvement in this, and if he had to be honest with himself, he hadn't even been aware that the marines had been activated aboard the Phoenix again. That is, that they performed as a seperate group beside the security department, which was now led by Ian Brooks.
Arching an eyebrow, he took a full minute to consider the question, then he inclined his head. "Yes lieutenant, your marines shall be involved. They shall accompany myself, and provide the security planetside. Co-ordinate your efforts with Lieutenant Brooks, please."
Peter looked over to K'Nara. "If that was all captain, I would like to prepare for the mission, and take an hour or two of rest before we depart." He need not say that he wanted to spend some time with his family, before he went. He and K'Nara knew both quite well that he was a trouble-magnet, whether intentional or unintentional, and he intended to at least hug and kiss his wife and children goodbye before he immersed himself into the next adventure.
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Post by K'nara Corval on Jul 23, 2009 17:52:35 GMT
K'Nara nodded at Mr Horns request and then effectively ended the staff meeting. Draining the last of her Raktajino, she was the last to leave. Returning to the command chair, she asked for a status report as to when they would reach the Angel system.
Tag <Wolf>
K'Nara was herself feeling somewhat jumpy and she knew why. It had to be cleared up.
"Sharon, you have the bridge," the klingon xo told her.
Taking a short turbolift ride, K'Nara ended up walking into a place she very rarely went. Infact she usually avoided it at all costs. Scienctifc explanations tended to annoy her.
"Mr Science, if I may have a moment of your time?" She asked.
Tag <Tak Science>
OOC - sorry guys have been really drained lately. Trying to find my creativity again.
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Post by Sharon Wolf on Jul 23, 2009 18:10:09 GMT
Ooc: Sorry about being missing, but I'm back.
Sharon had been going over some of the operations inventory when the Captain ordered everyone to the conference room, she took her place and leaned on her steepled hands on the table. She watched as everyone came in and wanted to ask Mel how Robert was doing in engineering when she got a chance.
She listened as the Captain discussed the upcoming mission then turned it over to Commander Horn. This mission was going to be interesting they had a rescue mission to perform which meant she needed to do the piloting.
"Captain, Commander I assume that my best piloting skills will be needed for this mission correct?" Sharon asked with a smile.
<K'nara, Peter>
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Post by Tak Science on Jul 25, 2009 3:40:51 GMT
Taking a short turbolift ride, K'Nara ended up walking into a place she very rarely went. Infact she usually avoided it at all costs. Scienctifc explanations tended to annoy her. "Mr. Science, if I may have a moment of your time?" She asked. The Kzinti turned around slowly, thinking to himself as he was requested to spend a moment with her. Nodding carefully, he looked up and thought to himself silently about how he felt with speaking to her. Nevertheless, he was not going to turn away a member of the Command Staff. Though he would never allow anyone to know it, he had actually begun to think of her as his friend. He was certainly not going to allow anyone else to become privy to this information, however. Turning to her slowly, he nodded with a bit of a gruff that had become nearly ceremonial by this point. Sighing slowly, he shut his eyes with a secondary huff, “I trust that you know that I am quite busy, and that I do not usually have time for such things. I should be back at my work.” He grunted once more, “If I had stayed on with the Kzinti Police Fleet, I would not so often be removed from the Crime Lab. I would slam those perps behind the bars, I assure you that.” OOC: To think, I was the one who had posted most recently for a while Strange world =P
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Post by Dr. Valeia Roquel Mercy on Jul 26, 2009 5:00:02 GMT
Stifling a yawn and trying not to think about food, Valeia’s eyes rapidly scanned the comprehensive inventory list she’d just been handed before quickly signing off on it. Her staff had responded professionally, and sickbay was now prepared. She’d received an estimate of a dozen crewmembers aboard the transport and a diplomatic contingency of another dozen had been verified. Doctor Mercy felt confident they could handle a medical emergency of that size rather easily but was prepared for more just in case. The doctor hadn’t slept well the night before and so was a little tired, not to mention absolutely starving despite having eaten plenty for breakfast. Lunchtime couldn’t come soon enough, and for some reason, she was feeling like a peanut-butter sandwich, maybe some vegetable soup, and a large glass of milk...
“Doctor, the bridge reports that we are approaching the transport, but that they’re detecting over fifty lifesigns aboard, most of them located in a cargobay. Interference is preventing transporters from getting a clean lock,” a nurse reported, interrupting Valeia’s lunch menu. Unfortunately, things rarely seemed to go according to plan.
“Alright, that means we go to them,” Valeia ordered, selecting a small team of her medical staff and preparing for an away mission. The doctor didn’t know very much about transporters or interference but had enough experience to know that if the sensors were getting readings, it was most likely safe to transport there even if they couldn’t get a lock to beam them back. Besides, the prospect of over fifty potentially injured people without medical care was unacceptable in Doctor Mercy’s opinion.
“Doctor Mercy to the bridge, I’ve prepared a triage team, and we’re ready to beam over to the transport,” Valeia reported, determined to find a way to help them. She knew that the call wasn’t hers to make and that an away team would probably need to include security and maybe an engineer depending on the ship’s status, but the doctor’s focus was on the crewmembers, diplomats, and whoever else was injured.
<Tag K’Nara/All>
~
The room was filled with smoke and the cries of wounded, but at least the chaos was somewhat controlled. The six Betazoid delegates and a few of the uninjured Angel One civilians had managed to gather their strength and resources and form some kind of unskilled but well intended triage. The uninjured had either offered their assistance or were grouped together in a corner of the bay, while the injured were being organized according to severity of the injury. A group of fifteen or so, including the diplomats, was trying to do all they could to treat the wounds, pressure to stop the bleeding here, immobilizing a broken bone there, but no one had any medical experience, and there was little they could do. Already, three or four had been lost, placed behind a row of cargo containers out of sight, and several others were growing worse. The only good news was that for the past ten minutes, there had been no further jolts to indicate more weapons’ fire, but there was an odd tilt to the deck and the power and light continued to fluctuate. The doors were jammed by fallen debris, and no comm signals were being received or transmitted from the damaged wall panels. Worst of all, no food, water, or med kits had been located.
Overseeing the attempt at order, Kalarin was barely managing to keep going on her own. By now she was convinced her ribs were broken, and the distant ringing in her ears and fuzzy quality of her vision caused her to suspect that the blow to her head had resulted in a concussion. The auditory and mental/emotional noise in the room made it difficult to sense much outside the confines of the cargo bay, but when she tried, the Betazoid had managed to pick up a few phrases from the crew of the transport. The phrases, “out of weapon’s range” and “Federation ship” sounded promising, but “warp containment” and “relay overload” seemed less so. All that she could do was wait and hope that help would be on the way, and soon.
<Tag All>
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Post by K'nara Corval on Jul 26, 2009 18:32:46 GMT
“I trust that you know that I am quite busy, and that I do not usually have time for such things. I should be back at my work.”
K'Nara raised her eyebrows in annoyance as he carried on. “If I had stayed on with the Kzinti Police Fleet, I would not so often be removed from the Crime Lab. I would slam those perps behind the bars, I assure you that.”
"Mr Science as your commanding officer I do not expect to be told you usually do not have time for such things. When I ask for a word with a senior member of staff, that means I am having a word with them. You make time for me. Is that understood? And as for stories of your previous employment, I would rather you left them to discuss in your offshift hours, for what you would be doing if you had of stayed has no relevance currently to this conversation," she asserted.
"Now," she carried on, "S'Hauen Vreenak. Have you had a chance to spend any time with the scientist yet? He is not happy this mission has pushed back and I would like a bit more knowledge on what to expect from this experiment."
Tag Tak Science
Several hours later on the bridge once more, the doctor was patched through on the comms.
“Doctor Mercy to the bridge, I’ve prepared a triage team, and we’re ready to beam over to the transport,” Valeia reported, determined to find a way to help them. She knew that the call wasn’t hers to make and that an away team would probably need to include security and maybe an engineer depending on the ship’s status, but the doctor’s focus was on the crewmembers, diplomats, and whoever else was injured.
"Thank you Doctor," K'Nara informed her. "Have your team go to transporter room 3. "Chief D'BrooNi, Commander Horn, Mr Science please meet the doctor there with a security or marine detachment also. I want an open comm link at all times onboard the transport."
Tag <D'BrooNi, Horn, Tak Science, Peractio and Valeia>
"Miss Wolf," K'Nara turned to Sharon. "Are we having any luck establishing communications with the planet? "
Tag Wolf
"Naois," she turned to the counselor sat to her left. "As the planetside delegation will be all females, myself and Sharon will beam down, I feel Miss Wolf needs more experience in away missions that does not involve piloting," She gave Sharon a rare smile. "Can you suggest anyone else and from your study of what we know about angel ones culture how is best to go about this?"
Tag < Naois>
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Post by Mel D'BrooNi on Jul 26, 2009 19:10:44 GMT
Melanie heard the announcement that she was to join the away team in the transporter room but the readings they were getting of the transport was not looking good.
"Mel, they have fired through deck 3, section J . . . " Charlie started.
"Causing a lockdown through these cooridoors," Mel nodded pointing on the screen.
"Structural damage, here, here and here," Charlie continued as a couple of other engineers hovered behind them watching.
"We are going to need to seal that deck before we can get into engineering and look at the warp drive," Mel nodded.
"It's venting," one of the ones behind her said.
"And whatever hit them knocked out some of the coils too," Mel added.
"We are going to need a couple of teams over there,"
She hit her badge. =^=D'BrooNi to Corval. Captain, Im going to have to take atleast 2 engineering teams to secure the warp drive. The Cargo bay should be safe to beam into but there are other pockets of the ship that need looking at before the rest of the away team access them. Also some of the systems, as a result of whatever hit them are backing up into secondary systems. Some have already overloaded and we need to look at the rest before they do overload=^=
=^=Understood Melanie. Have your people beam over first with Mr Science and have him determine what attacked the vessel. I want that clarified before we beam down to the planet=^=
=^=Yes Maam=^=
"Charlie, you get a team together. You three your with me. We need replacement coils, temporary plasma cannisters and infusers. Environmental suits till we can flush engineering properly, toolbox A's and C's . . . . . . she reeled off a long list.
About 15 minutes later several heavy loden engineers in environmental suits joined the awaiting triage team, Peter Horn and the new marine lead. There were so many people that they were forced to queue out the corridoor.
Mel smiled at Valeia briefly who looked concerned at the orange suits. "The Cargo bays the most secure place in there at present. You will be fine." She put down her crete and freed her other hand of her helmit and pulled another orange suit out. An extra large one. Handing it to Tak Science she really hoped it fit him.
<Valeia>
"You need to put this on, your coming with us in the first wave. We are going to secure engineering, and the secondary damage. The Captain wants you to determine what type of weapon attacked," she told the cat like being. His face betrayed his hatred at the idea of the suit and she agreed with him inwardly.
<Tak Science>
"Mel." Ian stepped out. "Got a few more of those?" Ian looked at his marine counterpart. "I recommend you have an escort with you. Your boys with the engineers?" Ian suggested. "I'll look after the cargo bay."
Tag <Peractio>
Annoyed at having extra bodies with them, Mel ordered Charlie to replicate more suits and then turned to Horn once they had arrived and Peractio and his colleagues were gearing up. "Commander are we okay to proceed?"
<Horn>
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Post by Tak Science on Jul 27, 2009 20:50:08 GMT
"Mr Science as your commanding officer I do not expect to be told you usually do not have time for such things. When I ask for a word with a senior member of staff, that means I am having a word with them. You make time for me. Is that understood? And as for stories of your previous employment, I would rather you left them to discuss in your offshift hours, for what you would be doing if you had of stayed has no relevance currently to this conversation," she asserted.
He did not mean to be belligerent, of course, at least not to how the human term was defined. Instead, his behavior was simply the correct manner in which for a Kzinti to behave. Well, at least that is how one might interpret it. Tak was always an individual who had been certainly a bit off, but all his people were off putting. He did not state anything further, not wishing to be reprimanded if he was to make a suggestion, perhaps, that she was an effeminate eater of grass and roots.
"Now," she carried on, "S'Hauen Vreenak. Have you had a chance to spend any time with the scientist yet? He is not happy this mission has pushed back and I would like a bit more knowledge on what to expect from this experiment."
“I have not have had any chance what so ever to meet with this S’Hauen Vreenak. To say that he is an elusive individual is to say the least. Though he may be unhappy, or whatever, he also considers himself above me and has not scheduled any time to meet with me. I suggest you order him to do so.”
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"You need to put this on, your coming with us in the first wave. We are going to secure engineering, and the secondary damage. The Captain wants you to determine what type of weapon attacked," she told the cat like being. His face betrayed his hatred at the idea of the suit and she agreed with him inwardly.
The Kzinti did not flat out tell her that he believed the suit to be an affront to his culture in which a warrior did not don such unappreciative garments. Moreover, it was something that was going to stop him from coming into combat most effectively, for after all, a warrior is supposed to stand alone and on himself.
He also knew she agreed with him secretly inside of her.
“I will do as you have asked me to. You say that I should wear this. I shall, and I shall not offer you any further complaint about that. Nevertheless, I trust that you understand most fully that you do know that I am doing this under a bit of an informal protest, if you understand what I am trying to say. I would prefer not to do this, if I were given the choice.”
Grumbling a bit, though attempting not to demonstrate this fact too greatly, the feline looked to her as he started to attempt to slide his leg into one of the pant legs of the suit, only to find he had placed his left leg into the right slot. Grumbling once again, he removed it and began the process once more anew.
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Post by Dr. Valeia Roquel Mercy on Jul 28, 2009 23:35:30 GMT
=/\=Thank you, Doctor,=/\= Captain Corval replied over the comm. =/\=Have your team go to transporter room three,=/\= K’Nara added, much to the doctor’s relief.
“Acknowledged,” Valeia replied, already gathering her own kit and supplies. She had been somewhat concerned that perhaps it would be considered too dangerous for a medical team and the injured would have to wait until the ship was stabilized before receiving help, but the doctor was relieved that wasn’t going to happen. Of course K’Nara would have known best had she made that choice, and Valeia wasn’t the type who enjoyed questioning orders, but she just might have in this situation.
The medical teams were the first to arrive at the transporter room, but Valeia was sure there were more teams coming. Everyone was organized and ready to go. All the kits and supplies were in place, and the doctors and nurses all knew what was expected of them, so really there was nothing left to do but wait. The doctor was a little on edge, wanting to get over there and assess the injured so she at least knew what they were dealing with and could begin the triage process. They could be up against anything from dozens of minor injuries to a full dozen critical cases and/or anything in between. Not knowing for sure what they faced was the hardest part...
Somewhat later, Commander Horn and a small contingent of security officers and Marines also arrived. Not quite understanding why security was needed given this was medical and engineering rescue mission onboard a Federation transport, she nonetheless wouldn’t question their presence as long as they didn’t get in the way. After another few minutes, a large contingent of engineers all in full environmental suits arrived. The gear was ominous to say the least, and the doctor cast a mildly concerned look in Mel’s direction, but the engineer just smiled. “The cargo bays are the most secure places in there at present. You will be fine,” the Trill assured her.
“Thanks,” the Betazoid replied, grateful she wouldn’t have to try to treat patients in one of those awful suits. “The triage teams are equipped with transport enhancers, and one of our priorities will be getting the most critical cases back to the Phoenix as quickly as possible. I’ll keep in contact with the transporter rooms to determine if the enhancers provide us with a lock, but I’ll need you to let me know as soon as it’s actually safe to do so. Otherwise, we’ll try to make due until we hear from you.”
<Tag Mel>
With the security arrangements made and Ian and the security team assigned to the cargo bay, Valeia was a little hesitant. She didn’t much like security officers in the middle of a triage situation, much as she didn’t really like them in her sickbay during a medical emergency, but the doctor did trust Ian and knew he would do his best to keep from interfering with the treatment of patients. The truth was there were thirty or so people on the transport that they hadn’t been expecting, and they could be anyone. Not that it mattered to Valeia who her patients were when it came to treatment, unless they were intent on causing further injuries or preventing her treatment, and she supposed that’s where Ian and his team would come in anyway.
The doctor glanced at Peter, supposing he would probably be going to the bridge to work with the Captain of the transport, though she could easily be wrong. “I will need to send a few doctors with the rest of you to treat any injuries among the transport’s crew. From what I’ve heard, the cargo bay is cut off from the rest of the ship, so you won’t be able to send them there.” Wincing slightly, Valeia added, “I guess that means we’ll need a few more suits…” in Mel’s direction, knowing the frustration produced by the need for the additional suits as well as the extra company.
<Tag Peter/Mel>
From what Valeia could tell, everyone seemed ready. Her two chosen medics and the Marines had all suited up, and her triage team was still prepared. Now they just needed the official go ahead. "Commander, are we okay to proceed?" Mel asked.
<Tag Peter/All>
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Post by Ian Brooks on Jul 29, 2009 16:18:14 GMT
Ian watched as Mel and the first cohort of engineers materialised off the platform. Immediately Charlie’s team stepped forward.
It was strange, both he and Mel being back at work. He trusted Harley completely with his son but it didn’t make the sense that he or Mel should be with him right now go away. He would have to bottle it, the guilt like feeling. They were Starfleet officers and had their duty to do. One look at Peter supervising doubled that thinking. Horn had 3 children and was constantly leaving them on missions. If he could cope, Ian would figure it out.
Ian turned to face the triage team and froze ever so slightly. Valeia was staring at him oddly. Damm, he always forgot that she was a betazoid. Perhaps she had picked up on that emotion. Then it dawned on him, he was probably about to be around a lot of betazoids. He wouldn’t be able to hide anything even if he wanted too – that for any security officer was a feeling they didn’t like. Slamming a smile on his face he moved forward. “Right then, after you maam.”
They moved forward. “Don’t worry; I will try stay out your way as much as I can. It’s just we have no idea what’s happened and well anyone could be onboard, so I have to come be under your feet for that reason,” he grinned at his friend.
He heard the chief say energise and felt the strange shimmering sensation of being taken apart molecule by molecule and put back together again. In front of them several beings suddenly looked frightened and moved back. Some confused yelling started, Ian moving immediately in front of the doctor and tried to assess the situation. No one was looking violent, just stunned more than anything.
“We are from the USS Dark Phoenix, responding to your distress call.” He tried to calm them down.
“Oh thank the gods,” someone said.
“We didn’t even know if the call got out. Communications have been down,”
Ian moved forward as the group started to settle down.
“It did and we have teams working now to stabilise the ship and treat the crew,” Behind him, he could hear Valeia and her nurses introducing themselves and setting up ready to triage. The lady in front of him did not look that badly hurt compared to some of the people in there.
“Lieutenant Ian Brooks,” he nodded at her. “I need you to tell us what happened.”
Tag <Valeia/ Ships crew/delegates>
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Post by Dacian Peractio on Aug 2, 2009 0:08:43 GMT
The orders came through quickly that Dacian was to, after all, accompany the away team. Their venture over to the L'waxana Troi was sure to be difficult with the facts they'd uncovered about the state of the 'personnel' aboard the craft, and thus the Captain had seen to it that the first officer Horn along with a marine detachment joined the team.
Dacian was all too happy to give his marines their first outing together, no matter how soon into his proceedings as Senior Marine Officer it was. Perhaps he and his team could teach their Starfleet counterparts a lesson or two while they were at it.
Peractio lowered the phaser rifle, relaxing from his one-armed aim posture. He loosened the twisted grip his contorted other hand had on the knife, feeling the lifeless body slip from it and watching it fall inevitably to the floor. The green light of its mysterious visor slowly faded, the life gradually leaking away and the thing's thorax heaved one last time.
He dropped the blood-stained knife to the ground.
Without blinking, Dacian tapped his commbadge. "Vincenzo, prepare the men for an away mission to the L'waxana Troi."
The dry voice of the Sergeant came through slowly, "I beg your pardon?"
"Squadron Alpha please, Vincenzo, in transporter room 3 on the double." Dacian closed the channel, and found himself looking at the low bridge interlinking the two buildings a bit ahead of him. He looked at the phaser rifle in his hands and then turned to a ledge on a near wall. Carefully, the SMO placed the rifle there, then stepped back to survey the area. He intended to return later to resume his exercise. With a last look at the Breen soldier, now completely still on the grimy floor, he donned a neutral smile and departed the holodeck.
Peractio checked over his equipment while he waited for Castarelli's squadron to arrive. Twelve men, Vincenzo included, seven of them were Castellans if Peractio's memory served. With that being the case, they had a good distribution of personnel. Whether or not the CoV could maintain their discipline was another matter, he thought, they were a majority.
"I recommend you have an escort with you. Your boys with the engineers? I'll look after the cargo bay."
Dacian looked around in surprise. The voice resolved itself to be that belonging to a gold-collared officer, security by the sounds of him, Dacian thought, as he raised an eyebrow to the man. "That sounds good to me, Lieutenant," he said, "As for my escort, they should be here any time now."
As if by design Dacian's team promptly entered, the stoic but undisguisedly (to Dacian at least) proud Vincenzo leading the way. Only the SMO knew how close Vincenzo was from revealing the smirk on his face.
Commander Horn arrived minutes later. Dacian was busy suiting up in his environmental gear. He hadn't realised the thing would be necessary; it was annoying for him, being limited in such a way on their first outing and Squadron Alpha didn't let him forget it either. Eventually they were ready and departure was authorised. Nodding to Lieutenant Brooks, Dacian stepped on to the transporter pad with the Chief Engineer and her first team. "You go with the second group of engineers, Sergeant," he said, looking at Vincenzo through the faceplate. And with that the first group dissolved from the transporter room.
They ended up in a dark room. Dacian looked around, verifying the presence of all of their party: the CEO, her three engineers, the science chief and the three marines. Although the light level was appalling, Dacian quickly ascertained that it was a fairly sizeable place. It was the cargo bay, of course.
Dacian took one step forward and was met with something that felt a little less solid than level, hard ground. There was a feline-sounding yelp and Peractio realised he'd stepped heavily on the Science Chief's suited foot. "My apologies," he said quickly, having heard rumours of the Science officer's race.
<Tag Tak Science>
The SMO nodded to his marines and there was a little flurry of sounds, indicating the activation of phaser rifle power cells. Dacian powered his own up and then started looking around the cargo bay, which soon revealed itself to be refuge to a group of agitated looking fellows. Dacian part-way lowered his rifle and called out to the rest of the away team. Why they were in such a dark room was beyond him.. perhaps the lighting had recently failed.
He stood before the group of what he assumed were refugees (although they could've been Betazoid) and tried to quell their worries with pointless words. The sooner this could be dealt with the sooner they could progress to the perilous abode of engineering.
<Tag Mel D'BrooNi and All>
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Post by Dr. Valeia Roquel Mercy on Aug 3, 2009 4:33:04 GMT
The engineers beamed out first, much to Valeia’s annoyance, as she was anxious to get to the cargo bay and analyze the situation, but in spite of her frustration, she could understand that securing the ship and its systems, especially the engines, was important. While waiting, a wave of guilt and a multitude of other emotions washed over her, causing the doctor to glance around the room to locate the source, which she found in Ian Brooks, who was staring off at nothing, clearly deep in thought. It was easy to understand why he was struggling, and although she was tempted to say something, one thing the Betazoid had learned very quickly as a telepath living among Humans was that the only thing they hated more than their emotions being read was being reminded of it by having those emotions and thoughts mentioned.
As he turned to her, Valeia could see in his expression that he realized she could feel how he was feeling. She never had been good at hiding what she was thinking and feeling, so it was impossible to just deny. All she could do was offer a slightly sympathetic smile, and allow him to simply deal with it on his own. If he asked for help, that was one thing, but otherwise, the Betazoid tried her best not to interfere.
Smiling tightly, he gestured to the transporter pad. “Right then, after you, Ma’am.” Nodding in reply, Valeia and half her team moved into position with Ian and half of his team, since their numbers required two trips. “Don’t worry; I will try stay out of your way as much as I can. It’s just that we have no idea what’s happened and well anyone could be onboard, so I have to come be under your feet for that reason.”
Smiling in return, Valeia teased back, “Well just because I understand that doesn’t mean I won’t give you a hard time if you end up in my way. I do get involved in my work, and that means getting defensive of my patients and always putting them first, just like your job means protecting us and putting safety first, and I appreciate that.”
Glad to be on a ship with such good friends, Valeia was still smiling when the group dematerialized, only to reappear in a dimly lit cargo bay. Eyes scanning the crowd, most of which was struggling to their feet, the doctor immediately tried to size up the situation medically, taking inventory of the injuries she could see, completely unaware of any sort of threat. She could already sense the emotions in the room, the majority of which were fear and pain. Nonetheless, when Ian stepped in front of her team, she reigned in her natural reaction to push past to the injured, instead trusting his instincts and respecting his job, since they just talked about it after all.
“We are from the U.S.S. Dark Phoenix, responding to your distress call,” Ian said calmly, and immediately, Valeia could feel the relief that flooded most of the room.
Even before everything had started to settle and the security team relaxed more, Valeia was taking stock of the injuries. Someone had been in charge here, as the injured were already grouped according to severity, but unfortunately, based on the condition of the injured it didn’t appear that any medical expertise had been available. Quickly organizing the triage team, the doctor began treating the most severe case, an elderly man, an Angel One civilian, with serious burns and several broken bones.
Kalarin and the other delegates had been immensely relieved at the sight of the Federation team, quickly moving to comfort the civilians they had been working with and ensure them that the team was here to help. Fortunately, it didn’t take long for the Angel One civilians to calm down, especially since most of them were in no condition to put up much of a fight. Her ribs were throbbing and head spinning, but the six Betazoids had all agreed that when help arrived, the civilians would take precedence and the delegation would wait. It had been the right decision to make, but based on her pain and dizziness, Kalarin would give anything for a hypospray.
Gathering her strength, Kalarin headed for the closest person who appeared to be in charge, a young human wearing gold, which if she recalled correctly probably meant he was security. He seemed to note her approach and addressed her first. “Lieutenant Ian Brooks, I need you to tell us what happened,” the officer requested.
“They had arranged a diplomatic conference between the two sides in a remote village. We were there to serve as mediators and to help with the dialogue. There was a lot of tension, and the situation erupted. One side, I’m not sure which, began to…bombard the conference. We were separated from the rest of the delegation in the confusion and the government officials managed to get the six of us outside. Fire fights started breaking out among the representation on both sides, and there were a lot of civilians caught in the cross fire and in the bombardment. Our ship couldn’t get a clean lock, so they beamed us out with the civilians nearby. We told them to clear out the building we were in just before we came under fire and had to leave orbit. Then the communications went down and we were trapped in here.”
The elderly man was in bad shape, with internal bleeding and a head trauma on top of the visible injuries. A little girl was also in bad shape as was who appeared to be her father. So far they had been stabilized, but they needed surgery and the resources back on the Phoenix. Most of the team were treating minor injuries and reporting back that no one else was in serious danger, but they would all benefit from sickbay. Rising from the little girl’s side, Valeia made her way back over to Ian.
Now that the medical teams were here, the five other diplomats moved to stand beside her, as they had no experience to help. Indicating to her colleagues, Kalarin continued. “We’ve been trying to help the injured as best we could, but we have no medical knowledge. We also haven’t been in contact with the crew to know about the status of the ship or whether there are more civilians in other locations across the ship.” Hesitating, she glanced in the direction of a line of cargo containers up against the far wall. “We have lost several civilians during the attack, and several more are badly injured. I believe the best course of action would be to transport us all to your ship as soon as possible. While I’m sure your team is well prepared to handle this situation here, most likely your sickbay would still be the best opt...”
As Valeia approached Ian, the woman he was talking to suddenly glanced up and her face went white, causing the doctor to freeze in place at the surge of emotion. Her lips remained unmoving, but the Betazoid clearly heard a single word before the woman began to slump sideways to the deck, only to be caught mid fall by Ian. Rushing to her side, Doctor Mercy quickly ran a scan to determine her condition.
“She has broken ribs, multiple bruises, and a concussion. She most likely fainted from the blow to her head,” Valeia explained nodding as two security officers lifted and carried the diplomat to join the rest of the injured. Rising to her feet, the doctor continued with her report. “We have three critical cases, who need to return to the ship as soon as possible. Everyone else is stable, but these people would be best cared for on the Phoenix. Have you heard anything from Mel regarding whether or not it’s safe to transport?” she asked, trying to dismiss the strange look the woman had given her, and the single word, which had made no sense whatsoever: “she."
<Tag Ian>
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Post by Tak Science on Aug 3, 2009 7:28:57 GMT
They ended up in a dark room. Dacian looked around, verifying the presence of all of their party: the CEO, her three engineers, the science chief and the three marines. Although the light level was appalling, Dacian quickly ascertained that it was a fairly sizeable place. It was the cargo bay, of course.
Tak Science had found it appealing as well. As a feline, he was supposed to be one who hid and stalked his prey in such a position. Therefore, the low light condition had absolutely made him feel at home. He was not going to complain by any means. Looking over to Dacian, his eyes suddenly grew wide, feeling what had been about to unfold.
Dacian took one step forward and was met with something that felt a little less solid than level, hard ground. There was a feline-sounding yelp and Peractio realised he'd stepped heavily on the Science Chief's suited foot. "My apologies," he said quickly, having heard rumours of the Science officer's race.
Tak Science had indeed yelped, jumping quite a bit as his foot-paw was stepped upon. Narrowing his eyes, he looked over to Dacian with a shake of his head. His eyes remained narrow slits as his flap-like ears receded to the side of his abovementioned cranium. “Allow me to mention the fact that I do not like you already. With that out of the way, let me tell you that I have hated you ever since you would not initially meet with me. Speak quickly; my patience runs quite thin for you.”
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Post by Mel D'BrooNi on Aug 3, 2009 16:11:16 GMT
“Allow me to mention the fact that I do not like you already. With that out of the way, let me tell you that I have hated you ever since you would not initially meet with me. Speak quickly; my patience runs quite thin for you.”
Mel sighed and listened to the next exchange between the two as she accessed the partially working computer panel.
Tag <Tak/ Dacian>
Finally Mel snapped her head and levelled both males with a look that despite the helmet and the darkness quite clearly portrayed that she was not happy. “This is an away mission and we have quite a lot of things needing our attention right now. This is neither the time nor the place for some macho square up,” she demanded.
“Here do something useful,” She pointed at Charlie and another engineer cutting through the emergency bulk door that had sealed off outer engineering. “We are going to have to manually pull those doors.”
The stunned looking marine pursed his lips together, probably mad that she had stepped in but Mel wasn’t having it escalate further. Not now, when they were only separated by a few feet of wall from a venting warp drive.
Mel blocked Tak Science as the Marine moved off. “I understand your culture is different and you are at liberty to hate whoever you like – in your own time,” she added quickly, “but do not threaten our marine escort. At least don't do it when we have venting warp plasma in the vicinity okay?"
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Post by Tak Science on Aug 4, 2009 5:24:13 GMT
Mel sighed and listened to the next exchange between the two as she accessed the partially working computer panel.
Tak narrowed his eyes slowly, well aware that Mel had been listening to him with this exchange. Of course, he certainly did not like being eavesdropped upon, but he was not going to bother with saying anything else to the concern. Even in his culture, that was a bit out of place.
“Here do something useful,” She pointed at Charlie and another engineer cutting through the emergency bulk door that had sealed off outer engineering. “We are going to have to manually pull those doors.”
The Kzinti started to walk away, under the commands that he had been given. He had not responded to her discussion, and therefore, he had been under the assumption that it was safe to move along. Tak Science had, of course, been working under the assumption that by not showing any further aggression he would be left silent unto her. He did not intend to make any big deal over this.
“I understand your culture is different and you are at liberty to hate whoever you like – in your own time,” she added quickly, “but do not threaten our marine escort. At least don't do it when we have venting warp plasma in the vicinity okay?"
Narrowing his eyes, the feline swallowed and tried to collect his thoughts regarding what she was saying. He certainly, of course, did not think that highly of them. Nevertheless, he was taught to respect authority over everything else, and considering that she was his ranking officer, he simply kept quite, awaiting her permission to pass by. He felt that there was nothing more to be said on the manner. At least, nothing more that would not have gotten him in any further trouble.
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Post by Dacian Peractio on Aug 5, 2009 10:36:07 GMT
Dacian looked on the Kzinti with a look of bewilderment for a second, before his voice caught up. "I was not aware you had requested a meeting with me," he said, "And if you did then it must have slipped my mind. I apologise if that is the case, but on the other hand, perhaps it's my mind's way of telling me I have better things to do."
Not really thinking, Dacian squared his shoulders, it was hard to tell body-language with the bulk of the EVA suits but the marine's insanity even went so far as to make his defiant stance quite obvious. And to make sure he was really plumbing the depths of madness, he took one single step forward.
By this time the engineer, angry in her suit, had stepped up and diffused the situation with her superior rank. Dacian looked at her with surprise, his thoughts circling barely below the surface; indecipherable. Eventually, he merely stepped aside, the simple act allowing for immediate diffusion of the exchange. What started as an apologetic smile at the Kzinti turned into a curling of the lip, but there was no more than that and Dacian moved off.
Cultural gap between societies or no, Peractio wasn't going to allow himself to be spoken to like that by Tak Science. He had his own pride to uphold, being a marine and all, and stray words from a warrior-felinoid were as much an imprint on him as if they were those spoken by a bitter enemy.
He looked at the bulk blast door and the engineers trying to cut their way through it. It was built to last obviously, built to contain the controlled explosion - that was at risk of becoming uncontrolled - on the other side of it. Peractio stepped up with his marines; he set his weapon down, indicating for two of his team to do the same. The third automatically knew the duty, standing back with phaser rifle low slung, casually ready just in case while the remaining trio tried the door.
"Can you reach the manual release catch?" Dacian asked, as the engineers stepped aside to let his group through.
"No," said one of the marines. It was one of the marine detachment that Dacian did not already know, he realised. It was hard to tell when all he could see was the bulky back of the corporal's helmet.
In the end, it turned out that they had to resort to brute strength. With Dacian on one side and the corporal on the other, they managed to wedge two objects in and heave the blast door open, just enough so that they could release it with the half-functioning control panel. The door rolled open, at first to reveal darkness and scarlet lights of warning, then to reveal a warp core.
Hesitantly, Dacian entered. He didn't altogether trust warp cores, especially malfunctioning ones and especially ones not from a Starfleet vessel, where they were at least reliable. Being an engineer in his old squadron, back when he was a member of the Earth Defence Corps, Dacian was used to... slightly older, and more predictable technologies.
They were all inside now. Dacian stepped around the core, eyeing it distrustfully; the thing was certainly venting enough, blowing out great breaths of gaseous material. He stepped back once his team confirmed engineering was secure.
He looked over to D'BrooNi, allowing her to see the face within his helmet. "All yours, Commander. We'll keep watch."
The engineer set about her work and Dacian moved off up to the upper level, keeping half an eye on the prowling Kzinti as he boarded the service elevator.
<Tag D'BrooNi and Science>
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Post by Sharon Wolf on Aug 7, 2009 18:43:22 GMT
After the meeting Sharon took over at helm and they headed to angel one, she had a lot on her mind and this mission would most likely require her to go down to angel one with the Captain. Angel ones hierarchy did not allow for men to be leaders but subserviant to women, she had to keep from laughing but smiled anyway then K'nara asked her about communications. She checked and nothing had changed.
"Captain, no change they are not responding to our hails." Sharon stated.
Sharon listened to the Captain and exec discuss plans, and she was right that she would be going with the Captain down to Angel one. Sharon slid her hand over the conn frequencies, still nothing.
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Post by K'nara Corval on Aug 9, 2009 8:33:11 GMT
K'Nara listened to Sharon inform her that there was no response from their hails.
"Keep trying Sharon," she said irritatedly.
Something didn't sit right on this mission. Peter Horn stepped back on the bridge having overseen the away team leaving for the Luxanna Troi. K'Nara looked up.
"Mr Horn, excellent. The planet is not responding to any hails. Any thoughts?"
Tag <Horn>
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Post by Commander Peter Horn on Aug 9, 2009 18:53:28 GMT
Peter looked startled at suddenly being addressed. He had been lost in thought, and not a little annoyed that he wasn't beaming over with the security and marine teams to the Lwaxana Troi. Something didn't sit right, and he had a bad feeling about the awayteams going overthere. Sometimes, he did feel that, as a telepath, he had a good advantage when being on an away team. As there were, as far as he was aware, no telepaths on the team, he felt a little 'blind'.
"I eh.." he started, blinking a few times while trying to focus his thoughts on his duties as first officer again. He still hadn't quite adjusted to being the first officer again, and was experiencing a little difficulty in letting the security matters go into the hands of Lieutenant Brooks, who had taken over that department.
He caught Naois' sharp look, and cautiously shook his head. ~not now counselor~ he thought grimly, seeing the other Vulcan's eyes widen in surprise. ~not now~ he persisted ~later~
Naois nodded. ~very well~ he thought back, knowing Peter was 'open' to him at the moment ~we do need to talk, you are too distracted~
Peter shook his head grimly, settling his gaze on the Klingon captain. "I suggest we simply beam down," he finally spoke up, "if there is no response, obviously they do not wish to speak with us. However, as we need to, we need to beam down and force them to see us. There is no other alternative. Is there?"
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Post by Commander Peter Horn on Aug 19, 2009 4:07:23 GMT
is anyone gonna bother replying?
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