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[Active] - Chapter 2 - Dorvan V

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Asteropax, Fri 10 Aug, 2018 11:54 AM
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    #301
    USS Ares
    Cargo Bay 1/"Nausicaan Brig"



    "Upon which do you place your wager, sir? The tall, sallow skinned, poorly dressed gentleman, or his shorter, greener, even more poorly dressed fellow?"

    "Neither."

    "Oh, come now, sir. Put your latinum where your lobes are."

    "No, thank you."

    "Are you out of latinum?"

    "No. I don't gamble."

    A low whistle. "I've never met a Ferengi who didn't gamble...."

    "That is because you have never met me before, Specialist," Ensign Quiir replied icily, clearly irritated. "And even if I did, I would certainly not do so on duty. And if I ever hear you suggest so again...."

    Specialist Maxime Matsoua spread his hands langiudly in a gesture of supplication. "A human expression! Not an actual request." Matsuoa turned back to the large cargo bay control room window, studying the two Nausicaans who were engaged in a serious game of dom-jot. As he watched, he continued speaking. "I spent time on Ferenginar, assigned to the Embassy security detail. Loved every moment of it. I spent my off-duty hours wandering Grub Row in the Sacred Marketplace, looking at all of the advertisement holos for their exquisite bespoke suits. I acquired a Triaxian silk waistcoat that you would weep over. One of the quadrant's foremost destinations for haute couture, and I should know. I, who was the finest dressed man in Brazzaville, nay....the entire southern hemisphere of Earth, at least. My mother used to say to me 'Maxime. You are beautiful; but learn to work, for you cannot eat your beauty. I'd say, 'Mamá, we live on Earth! Our needs are taken care of. I can be beautiful, and eat!' And the next thing you know, I was on a shuttle to Mars, to enlist in Starfleet and...'not waste my potential,' as dear mamá said."

    Quiir listened in silence. Years ago, he couldn't wait to get away from Ferenginar. He declined to discuss his own story with Matsuoa, partly because he didn't care for him, and partly because he didn't think he'd even listen, being too absorbed with the sound of his own voice.

    "Besides my impeccable taste," Maxime continued, "Discernment of people happens to be among my many talents. "All types, all species. I pick things up naturally if given enough time to observe. If I were to gamble, I would wager upon Sallow, here. He is behind in the score, but look at his eyes. The fierceness! He is a hunter. He is patient. His prey has been lulled into a false sense of security...."

    Quiir studied the game below. The taller Nausicaan grumbled in frustration as his ball ricocheted and missed its hole by microns. A mixture of groans and cheers erupted from the surrounding crowd. Quiir had to admit that the addition of a dom-jot table did appear to ease the tensions of the captive Nausicaans. There was less fighting and attempts at property damage. It appeared they had some sort of tournament going, and it was clearly capturing the attention of most of the inmates.

    "I don't know," Quiir replied, "I dont think he's going to win. He's down three balls already. There's a 87% chance he's going to lose."

    "I see you know the game, sir," Maxime drawled, "But not the players. The player is what you must watch, not the score. You see, Greeny is efficient, but he takes no chances. He is docile. Meek. He will lose."

    As the game progressed, it seemed as if Maxime was right. A few cautious misses, and a series of aggressive moves with surprisingly lucky ricochets evened the score. At the game point, "Greeny" leveled his cue, aiming carefully for a long time before firing. A taunt of "Undari!" from his taller opponent at the right time broke his concentration, causing him to misfire.

    Roars of applause and curses erupted from the onlookers. "Greeny" easily sunk his last ball into the hole and began to strut around with his arms raised. His opponent stood with his head down, brooding silently.

    "You see?" Maxime crowed, "The hunter wins, as I said. His meek companion stands in defeat. Such is the essence of what the Nausicaans call 'guramba.' Some have it, some don--"

    His words faltered as he watched the "meek" Nausicaan take his dom-jot cue and sink it into the taller Nausicaan's chest, which didn't seem possible. His opponent cut off mid-laugh to stare at the cue in fascination before dropping to the floor.

    Quiir and Matsoua gaped at each other for a second before Quiir hit his com badge. "Cargo Bay 1 Security to Brig Infirmary! Prepare for an incoming transport, one wounded!"
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    #302
     –  Last edited by LogicalLeopard; 2 Weeks Ago.
    USS Ares
    Deck 4 - Security Complex


    Biiqs rose and walked out toward the cells, approaching the Captain.

    "Afternoon, sir. Good to see you patched up. I was wondering if I could have a word with you concerning the transfer of the Nausicaans to another vessel."

    (((Tag: Teriir)))

    "No, we haven't had any severe problems as of yet, but the tension is growing. We tried to stave it off a bit by letting them play dom-jot, but I'm not sure how long that's going to..."

    An alarm buzzed, followed thereafter by a message shortly by Locke's voice over the intercom. "Additional officers needed in the Brig Infirmary. Incoming wounded prisoner from Cargo Bay 1."

    Biiqs frowned and looked back to the captain. "I'll....I'll get back to you," he said before running down the hall to the infirmary.

    Upon arrival, he noted that four officers were already there, weapons drawn and pointed on an empty section of the floor. A bored looking Andorian nurse stood impatiently in front of the same spot, tapping a hypo spray against his thigh. "Okay, there seem to be enough of you for protocol," he said. "Computer, lock doors. Cargo Bay 1, beam him in. You, and you, over here," the nurse said, calling Biiqs and another officer over to spaces by his side. "Mind the transporter beam."

    The Nausicaan materialized in front of them, and the nurse said sharply, "Hold his arms down!" As Biiqs and the other officer held him down, the nurse quickly applied a sedative, even though the Nausicaan appeared to be unconscious. "Keep holding his arms down. You all with the phasers, point them at the floor, not at me! I'm not dying of phase pulse infection just in case this prisoner twitches and your trigger fingers do as well." He pulled out his medical tricorcorder and murmured, "Let's see here...uh huh....ah!" He looked up from his recorder to the dom-jot cue sticking out of the Nausicaans chest, as if noticing it for the first time. With one swift motion, he yanked it out of his chest with one hand, tossing it aside. Immediately thereafter, he swung an instrument over the Nausicaan's chest to stanch the bleeding." Standing up, he announced. "There. Stabilized for movement. Please move him to the bio bed so we can actually begin to work on him. You and you. Put down those phasers and help move him. CAREFULLY NOW! He may be a Nausicaan, but he's not a side of roast targ at a Klingon feast! Miserable orderlies, all of you..."

    Biiqs helped heft the man into a biobed, and the nurse swiftly shouldered him out of the way, flinging down a surgical cover and deftly punching in commands. "Therak to Sickbay, we need a surgeon in the Brig Infirmary. Patient suffered a puncture wound to his third pulminary ventricle." To the security officers, he said, "Can anyone be bothered to strap this gentleman down with the restraints, in case he decides to wake up and thank me after the surgery? By the frost of Fen'tor, does no one know how to handle a high risk infirmary patient? Or is this the first time you've seen a bleeding body? This isn't a holonovel, it's an infirmary! There are protocols." Glaring at Biiqs, he snarled, "Who are you, anyway, some bloody engineer? You are not armed. How did you get in here anyway, are you working on the replicators?"

    Nurse Therak turned back to his work, leaving Biiqs momentarily gaping. "I'm actually the new chief of the Tactical Department," he said evenly.

    "Eh? Just the man I'm looking for. Can you schedule a training on brig infirmary procedures please," he said, still not looking up as he worked on the patient.

    A smile spread across Biiqs' lips. "I'll put that at the top of my list, Lt. Therak. You are handling the patient capably, and deserve support."

    Therak peered at Biiqs for a second through narrowed eyes, trying to assess whether or not he was being sincere. Biiqs raised his hands defensively and said, "I mean it! We have entirely too many prisoners aboard, and situations like this are bound to happen more frequently. I'll make sure a refresher memo on the proper procedure goes out today."

    Therak grunted his acknowledgement, with a thin, tight smile appearing on his lips for a second. "You're not an idiot, or a despot. Which is good for a department head. I think we'll get along well."

    "I think so, too.You keep fixing them, Therak, and we'll keep them secure. That's all I ask."

    "Understood, sir. By the way, he'll be fine. The implement punctured his least important ventricle, as I understand. I've served in the emergency ward at Laikan General, about five kilometers from the Military Academy. I've seen my share of stab wounds before from rambunctious students engaging in duels."

    "I did a semester at LMA while at Starfleet Academy in the exchange program," Biiqs replied. "I managed not to get stabbed."


    "I'm sorry to hear that," responded Therak with sincere regret in his voice. "Theres nothing like a good duel to show you who you are in this universe."

    Biiqs smiled slyly. "Avoiding being stabbed is not the same as avoiding a duel." The nurse grimmed back as he caught his meaning. Biiqs continued, "At any rate, glad to have you on the team, Lieutenant." With that, he turned to leave the infirmary just as the doctor was coming in.
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    #303
    USS Ares
    Brig


    Attachment 9773

    Attachment 9774

    Christopher heard the request for help in the brig and told the sickbay staff that he would handle it. He grabbed a surgical kit and headed to the nearest turbolift.

    When the doors opened, Christopher let out a smile. Lt Therak was on duty, which meant that brusque was the order of the day. Christopher wondered how many times the Andorian had insulted everybody. Even though they were the same rank, Christopher knew enough of the medic to know that Therak was a very good first responder so the situation must be bad if the call for help had come his way.

    Setting the kit down, Christopher started to pull out pieces of equipment and lay them next to the unconscious Nausican. "Therak, a second year cadet could have done a cleaner job of pulling that dom'jot stick from his chest. How about I demote you to the academy so you can learn how it's done?" Christopher heard the silence around him as people were shocked to hear such a comment.

    Therak laughed, "There's more chance of me walking on the sun than of you actually having enough pull to demote me."

    Noticing the relieved looks of the brig crew, Christopher set to work, "Pass me the pulmonary reinforcer and prepare the rapid infuser. You know, one day I'll make Commodore and then I'll have you posted to the Nimbus three medical centre."

    Therak set up the equipment and pulled some things out that he knew Christopher would need later, "Ha! By the time you make Commodore, the Nimbus star will have gone supernova!"

    Not everyone could work with the abrasive Andorian but Christopher relished the banter, backed up by a deep respect for each other's abilities. Soon, they had repaired the damaged blood vessel and put a patch in place to prevent further damage during the healing process.

    Therak uttered congratulations in Klingon which meant that the whole brig heard the cry of, "Kai the Healers!"

    Placing a monitoring device on the Nausican, Christopher gathered his equipment and shouldered the kit, speaking to the brig staff, "He's all your ladies and gentlemen, call us if there's any unusual activity." He turned to Therak, "Now, why don't I buy you a drink while you explain why I shouldn't assign you to bilge duty?"

    Attachment 9774
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    #304
    USS Ares
    Holodeck 1

    Attachment 9774
    Akyv was waiting patiently in the Holodeck facility. She had produced a couch from the database & was sitting on it, reading through a medical journal. Sam entered & said,
    - Sorry, I'm late.

    She gave him a look and said,
    - I was waiting 45 minutes. What in the name of the sacred tundras took you so long?

    Sam produced two wrapped cheeseburger from behind his back & said,
    - Grabbing dinner & finishing up reports for the DOS.

    Akyv gave him a slight smile as she took a cheeseburger, saying,
    - You sure know the way to a girl's heart.
    She unwrapped the burger and took a bite out of it.

    Sam looked out at the holodeck and said,
    - Now, to pick a place to get married. Thoughts?

    Akyv said, nonchalantly,
    - Not Andor. Guests won't appreciate having to wear parkas to a wedding.

    He nodded and said,
    - I have an idea. Computer, show us Urquhart castle, 3 months after it was originally completed.

    The computer beeped & produced a beautiful castle, overlooking a foggy bay, with the wind blowing slightly. Akyv smiled slightly
    - Wow! This place is beautiful!

    Sam smiled widely & said, taking her by the hand,
    - Most folks find this place a bit dingey, but this is the beauty of Scotland. That lake there is Loch Ness.

    Akyv nodded and said,
    - I can see the beauty of the place. Now where in this place do we hold the ceremony?

    Sam said, after taking a bite out of his burger,
    - The grand hall. Its big enough to host everyone.

    Akyv nodded, took another bite & said,
    - Computer, show us the Grand hall.

    The computer beeped & the view changed to show the Grand hall of the castle. Akyv walked the length of the hall & said,
    - There's no platform.

    Sam nodded & said,
    - Easily fixed. Computer, create a platform opposite of the doors, two meters deep, stretching across the width of the hall.

    The computer beeped & produced the platform. Akyv went to the top & said,
    - This is much better. Now, seating. Computer, create church like seating to fill hall, leaving a 1.5 meter aisle down the middle, leading from the entrance.

    The computer beeps again & produces wooden pews along both sides of the hall. Sam nodded and said,
    - Perfect. Now, to decorating.

    Akyv gave him a peck on the cheek & said,
    - I'll take care of that. Head to bed, you look like hell.

    Sam nodded & headed out, leaving Akyv to her decorating.
    Attachment 9774
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    #305
    Uss Ares
    Deck 4 - Security complex


    “You’re right Barron, about my parents,” Captain Teriir stated, “My sister and I are full siblings as we were both born to Derran and Vlyn. Unfortunately, he was killed before I was born in a freak accident. My mother chose to remarry and as Phyallx was the only father I knew, I’ve always referred to him as my father. After my mother died during the Border Wars, I was sent to live with him. He was . . . abusive. His actions against his own family led to his arrest and current imprisonment.”

    He avoided making any sort of eye contact with Barron, as the prisoner’s ranting and raving from earlier reminded him so much of Phyallx. The two men were not all that different in their attitudes. Teriir took a breath and continued, deciding to look into his time at Starfleet Academy, “I figured you would spot my failing grade in Starship Systems.”

    “Naturally,” Lieutenant Kurts’ voice made him turn in his direction, “From what I’ve heard of you from Locke, you always seemed to be Mr. Extra Credit.”

    “Well, I was attempting to take 6 years of Academy training in 4 so I couldn’t quite make everything click,” Teriir shrugged, “Serves me right for not wanting to take the Summer Semesters off.”

    “And dragged him off with you. He did mention it was what friends are . . . what?”

    “That’s a far cry from the person who hated my guts for the first semester,” he smiled.

    Kurts tilted his head curiously, “Any particular reason why?”

    Teriir took a deep breath, “A short time before I officially registered to become a Cadet, I got into a fight with him on Trill. Although he never admitted it, his father requested that we become roommates in order to make us overcome our differences.”

    “Doesn’t seem to have worked,” the Lieutenant grunted, “Fighting alongside you towards the end of the Battle of Aureum and the duration of the Shattered Moon says the opposite.”

    “Our rivalry was within the classrooms and training, not when we were on the front lines. We had far more important things to worry about,” he paused as he spotted Commander Biiqs moving to join them.
    "Afternoon, sir. Good to see you patched up. I was wondering if I could have a word with you concerning the transfer of the Nausicaans to another vessel."
    “Have they been causing trouble for the security teams?” he asked, pondering which of the ships they were with could be their best option.
    "No, we haven't had any severe problems as of yet, but the tension is growing. We tried to stave it off a bit by letting them play dom-jot, but I'm not sure how long that's going to..."

    An alarm buzzed, followed thereafter by a message shortly by Locke's voice over the intercom. "Additional officers needed in the Brig Infirmary. Incoming wounded prisoner from Cargo Bay 1."

    Biiqs frowned and looked back to the captain. "I'll....I'll get back to you," he said before running down the hall to the infirmary.
    “Here we go with another round of festivities,” Kurts commented sarcastically.

    Teriir huffed and shook his head and turned back to Barron. He would see what happened to the prisoner after he was done in the holding cells.

    (( TAG: Biiqs )
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    #306
     –  Last edited by LogicalLeopard; 3 Days Ago.
    USS Ares
    Deck 4 - Security Complex


    Biiqs nodded politely to Doctor Cushing as he left the infirmary, moving aside to allow him entrance. He took in Cushings smile toward Therak with bemusement. It appeared that the crotchety nurse got along better with his fellow medical staff than he thought.

    He continued down the hall to speak with the Captain. Holding up the dom-jot cue he picked up before leaving, he said, "A minor Nausicaan dispute over dom-jot. Seems like someone accidentally supplied the Nausicaans with real cues, rather than one of the brittle, correctional-issue cues that would shatter if used as a weapon. I will find the responsible party and make sure they understand the difference." His tone was plain, and not unkind. He continued, "With all of the events of the last 24 hours, and our surplus of prisoners, those are the types of mistakes that tend to occur. They are easily corrected. Our patient will be fine, however, according to the medical staff. I'll head down to the Cargo Bay and check on the situation with the other prisoners myself.

    (((Tag: Teriir)))

    "Thank you sir, that will be a big help."
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    #307
    U.S.S. ARES
    Deck 8 – Enlisted Mess Hall

    Jei looked about the enlisted mess as she entered. It was a somber but sizeable crowd that filled the enlisted mess to capacity. Security, Operations, Engineering, and other crew had gathered for Ensign Amita Patel’s memorial. The posthumously promoted hero of Dorvan VI had touched a lot of lives and this turn out showed that she had a lot of friends.

    Jei stayed on the fringe, already feeling on the verge of emotional breakdown. If it was possible, Jei would gladly switch places with Amita. She didn’t deserve to die. It is obvious that the void left in her absence was the universe’s cruel and persistent outcome in Jei’s eyes.

    A gentle yet firm voice brought Jei out of her self-wallowing and self-pity.

    “Alright people, I’d like to get started as some of you have to return to duty. We can’t leave the officers alone too long or they will foul-up all of our hardwork…” began Chief Hayes, standing with the aid of a pair of crutches.

    The assembled crowd chuckled at the opening remark meant to lighten the mood a little.

    “Ensign Amita Patel was an officer whom I was honored and am proud to have served with. There was no one better to watch your back in a dangerous situation. She had a knack to de-escalate situations before they became an issue. More than that, she was our friend. Our shipmate and comrade in arms. She always put others before herself,” continued Chief Hayes as he looked out among the gathered crew.

    Red-rimmed eyes met his firm gaze. Only his years of experience and hardship with these situations allowed him to maintain his own composure. To help himself steel himself better, he put a hand on Martin’s shoulder. Petty Officer Kowalski allowed himself to release his bottled-up emotion and was overcome with grief.

    “In her final moments, she never gave up. The situation was grim and hopeless, but Amita was a fighter and not one to give-in. She fought to the end and her sacrifice saved others. Yet, if she were here now, she would implore us to not grieve or cry. In fact, I know what exactly she would say to us if she were standing here…”

    The assemble crowd grew quiet, as they anxiously anticipated the next words as if Amita were present and would utter the words herself.

    Chief Alphonse Hayes made eye-contact with each and every person in the room, until he locked his gaze upon Amita’s fiancé, Ensign Mendoza.

    “Don’t cry for me, a smile better suits a hero…”
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    #308
    USS Ares
    Sickbay


    Attachment 9773

    Attachment 9774

    Christopher returned to Sickbay and found that Amita's partner had already left to attend the memorial. Christopher understood that the memorial was for the enlisted ranks. After all, she was one of them and always would be. Her promotion to Ensign had been put forward by the Captain and Christopher had been very pleased that it had been recognised by Starfleet, and approved.

    Sitting down at his desk, he opened a new file for submission to the Captain and spent the next few minutes dictating to the computer. Finally, when he had finished, he spoke up, "Computer begin read back of file C588499-A."

    =/\= Message begins - From Lt Christopher Cushing to Cpt Dyrell Teriir. Subject - Recommendation for promotion and commendation. Sir, after taking into account recent events, I wish to recommend Petty Officer Martin Kowalski for promotion. Kowalski went above and beyond the call of duty in his actions in the face of the enemy. I also wish to put Chief Petty Officer Hayes forward for a commendation for his professionalism and courage under fire and recommend promotion to Warrant Officer. This brings me to my final request, sir. I nominate Petty Officer Jeihee Han for a field commission to the brevet rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade, subject to her acceptance. Jeihee showed an incredible aptitude for improvisation under duress and her creativity saved the remaining members of the away team numerous times. Her quick thinking and adaptability harried the enemy and gave us time to ready our defences. It is certain in my mind that without Jeihee Han, the away team would have been in mortal danger and may not have prevailed. Signed - Lieutenant Christopher Cushing MD, USS Ares =/\=

    Christopher smiled to himself, knowing that they all deserved it and so much more, especially Jei. "Computer, send the message to Captain Teriir."

    =/\= Message sent =/\= piped the computer.

    "Marvellous." Christopher said and moved to the replicator to make some tea.

    Attachment 9774
    WelshAvenger
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