[Scarlett]

USS Ares
Deck 17 - Flight Deck

“If I may ask, Lieutenant, how’d you end up as a Ship’s Counselor? It seems a little atypical for a Vulcan to go in for what my father would’ve dismissed as ‘the social sciences.’”

A’Mand put her hands behind her back as they walked. “You’re right, Lieutenant. But this was reason number 347.” She looked sideways to show James she was playing along with his jest.

The doors to the turbolift opened and James allowed A’Mand to enter first. When the doors closed, she ordered the lift to Deck 11, and then turned to answer his question.

“It’s true that Vulcans typically find careers in the Science division within Starfleet. Although my own education proved I could find purchase in a ‘social science’, I am walking another path, so to speak.”

James betrayed further questions with his facial response and A’Mand continued.

“I’m sure we would agree that studying the outer universe is enticing. We would not be on board the Ares otherwise, correct? Yet, for me, the inner universe is equally interesting. The mind is a labyrinth, where every path constantly changes from one moment to the next. Everyone’s personality, and their emotions, is a journey through a constantly shifting maze which forms who they are as a being.”

The turbolift slowed until the doors open to reveal the greenspace built into the starship. A soft-padded walkway, flanked by grass, wound toward deck-tall reinforced windows facing the rear of the Ares. James and A’Mand strolled toward a nearby bench where she invited James to sit.

“During the Academy, I was more interested with the space inside.” A’Mand points to her head. She then nodded toward the windows, “instead of the outside.”

She shrugged as if to suggest simplicity underneath her words. “So, to really answer the question: I am hopeful to make a difference on a personal level for other beings. This is what brings satisfaction to my work. My efforts with the crew of the Sixth Wave brought me to Ares. The rest is history, as the distinctly Human phrase goes.”

A’Mand pushed one side of hair behind an ear and added, “if it matters, my secondary specialization is in stellar cartography.”

She looked away before James could reply. “Whomever decided this area should be a natural environment, versus more storage space or resorting to a holodeck was forward-thinking for our long voyage. What do you think?”

((Tag James Cole))

[Generator]

USS Ares
En route to Deck 11

“You’re right, Lieutenant. But this was reason number 347.”

Jim grinned at the welcome surprise of the Vulcan playing along with his joking. He then went into a scowl of concentration, but the tone of his voice belied his intent. “So if that’s 347, then you’re using… Fifth Edition, Abridged Version of the list? Makes sense, streamlines a lot of the redundancies.”

Jim listened as the Lieutenant recounted her motivations to him, making no effort to hide the fact that he was impressed. When she finished, he chuckled. “My old man, he was a professor of Materials Science at a place called Cornell University. Smart guy. I wish he could’ve heard that. I can just picture the look he’d have had on his face, and then he probably would’ve called you a hippie, which would’ve been his stubborn way of conceding defeat on that ‘social sciences’ crack.” Jim smiled, but a little bit of the banter had washed out of his face. A fresh wave of realization swept over him, Dad’s gone. The time since the end of the war had allowed the edges of the loss to dull into something he could live with. Now when he felt it, it was more of a rock in his shoe than a knife in the gut.

OOC: given that our current incidence of PTSD practically makes the Ares a flying nuthouse, I think Jim is going to have largely moved on after his father’s death. Just don’t expect him to be the voice of reason if the ship encounters the Breen.

“Whomever decided this area should be a natural environment, versus more storage space or resorting to a holodeck was forward-thinking for our long voyage. What do you think?”

James sat down on the bench, taking in the space. “I think you’re spot-on, Lieutenant,” he said in agreement. “Replicators and holodecks can do a lot, but I don’t know, there’s just no substitute for the real thing.” Jim eyed up the landscaping, and was already trying to figure the best time to sneak in here and be alone, in his bare feet on the grass, with a good cup of coffee.

“Like, I enjoy fishing, but it never for a minute occurred to me to bring any rods with me onto the Ares. I enter a fishing program on a holodeck, it feels weird. It can be a nice way to relax in a simulation of some sun and a breeze, but it’s not fishing. Not to me, anyway.”

Jim looks around at the greenery, then turns back to A’Mand. “I’m going to risk sounding silly here, but a place like this, sure it’s pleasant to look at, but it doesn’t strike me that this would be at all, well, ‘homey’ for you. Am I off base here? My memory of the one time I went to ShiKahr as a kid didn’t allow for a lot of greenery. The chief thing I remember is that it was really dry and hot, like Arizona turned up to eleven.”

((TAG A’Mand))

[Asteropax]

USS Ares
Deck 6 – Cargo Hold 1

“I heard about a group of Nausicaans attempting to take members of Betazed’s First House hostage so they could seize supplies over a year ago,” Teriir commented to Locke, “But I didn’t know it was you who led the security team which captured them during the attempt, great job!”

Locke let a grin at the story cross his face, “It was very important to everyone involved. Most of the remaining Nausicaan pirate groups trying to mosey into Federation space fled and reassured the Betazoids that Starfleet could provide for their safety after the war. Plus . . . um, it did get me promoted to Lieutenant as a reward for my efforts.”

“I think you earned that promotion a long time ago,” he complimented while scrolling through the manifest to check that a crate’s information matched what he had on medical supplies. They would need to be careful with the ones they were looking at right now as they contained additional supplies of anesthetics.

“Thanks, but like you, I wanted to show I could be an officer we could all be proud of in peace rather than war. It’s also a pity the Nausicaans shifted more of their raiding parties to Cardassian space as a result,” Locke paused for a moment before remembering something, “You know, if you accepted all that stuff after the G-59183 Syste-“

“Don’t remind me!” Teriir cut his friend off. He cringed slightly, knowing he was far more abrupt than he meant to sound. He hated talking about the Battle of the Shattered Moon. Oh sure, the battle itself was straightforward and a complete victory but the prelude and conclusion we harsh on him. They surpassed even the news of his mother’s death and his fight with his father before he left for Starfleet Academy as the worst days of his life. He repeated more softly, “Don’t remind me of that battle.”

“Sorry,” Locke apologized. He placed his hand on Teriir’s shoulder and turned him slightly so they could make eye contact, “Have you had any luck finding her?”

“Six years . . . nothing.”

There wasn’t much else to say on the subject. He got engaged a few days before they went on that mission; yes, they were still very much kids at the time but agreed to hold off on a wedding until they were both adults. She was wounded during the mission and was hospitalized on Deep Space Nine upon their return. His ship had to depart to be used as a relief ship the instant they got back to aid the survivors of the Second Battle of Chin’Toka. She practically dropped off the face of the galaxy afterwards and he hadn't been able to locate or contact her. A lot of people helped him try and figure out where she went but they all came up on dead ends. The only thing he knew for sure was that she was sent behind the lines as a preemptive measure to ensure the sole survivor policy wouldn’t have to be activated for her.

Locke spoke up again, “Between that officer putting you on the fatalities list after the battle and the technician deleting the medical transfer records, who messed up the most?”

“The first person,” Teriir managed to croak, fighting to keep himself together, “Her parents and two older siblings were killed at the Second Battle of Chin’Toka, leaving just her and her little brother. Hearing the mistaken report that I was dead would’ve been beyond devastating. If anything, I just need to know what happened to her afterwards.”

“So you can either find a way to reconcile or finally move on?” his friend guessed both of the thoughts which had been plaguing his mind for a quarter of his life.

“I hope to reconcile but It’s been six years now,” he replied, drumming his fingers on the PADD. He was surprised at how steady and clear his voice was, “If she’s managed to move on I can at least finally start looking ahead once more.”

They both stood still for a minute. Teriir’s mind shifted between his time at Starfleet Academy, the Dominion War, and his service until now. There were a lot of pleasant moments throughout but he could scarcely keep them apart from the harsher memories. He wouldn’t truly know peace until he knew the answer to his question. Locke grasped his hand before pulling the PADD away. He looked up at his friend, seeing his own pain reflected back. He must’ve been thinking about some friends of his who’d been killed commanding the planetary defenses during the First Battle of Benzar.

“We have gone through so much. We have all lost a great deal but have also gained more than we’ll ever truly know,” Locke reminded him, “We’re still here and there’s a lot we can do. Come do dinner after the meeting tonight. I don’t think you’ve really had a chance to meet my wife outside of our duties.”

“I’ll be there,” Teriir managed to get a smile out. He then gasped slightly as he realized how busy his schedule was now today, "I mean, I'll try to be there. I have an appointment in medical when we're done checking the cargo bays. Hopefully before the meeting but it might have to be moved for after."

"Take care of you first. We can have dinner tomorrow," his friend reassured him as they both got back to work.

[Allan Hood]

USS Ares
Deck 1 – Bridge

Chief Science Officer Allan Hood walked from the Captain's Ready Room to the science station on the other side of the bridge. He walked behind ops and the helm, not being able to resist glancing over the shoulders of the junior officers sitting at their consoles. He did everything he could to keep his excitement in check in regards to going “...where no one has gone before.”

“Good morning, Ensign,” Hood greeted a Vulcan science officer, already at their post. “How are you this morning?”

“You are 19 minutes early, sir,” the ensign responded with a raised eyebrow, without looking at a chronometer, still facing her screen. “As for this morning, it is neither ‘good’ nor its implied alternative, ‘bad.’”

“That’s very absolute of you, Ensign,” Hood responded jokingly. “I just meant it as a greeting, just being friendly.”

“I know and fully understand your usage of the greeting, sir,” the ensign responded. “I am simply pointing out that one cannot state the unknown condition of ‘morning’ as perceived without adding personal feelings, prejudices, or interpretations to distort one’s perception.”

“You learn not to say ‘good morning,’ sir...” the human junior-grade officer joked over his shoulder, not lowering his voice. “I’m Eleutherio,” the science officer said as he turned around to shake Hood’s hand.

From the angle where they stood in relation to each other, Hood did not notice his cybernetic right-side of his face.

Hood almost hesitated in shaking his hand, but, instead, pushed his prejudice aside. Hearing stories about the Borg from other officers, and the Battle of Wolf 359 from his father, had taken its toll. Hood pushed the stories of the Borg from his mind. His father, both traumatized and unforgiving of the Borg, resigned from Starfleet after “Locutus was given command of a starship.”

“Don’t mind her, sir,” Eleutherio joked, “she’s only making conversation.” Prompting the young Vulcan to turn slightly with her eyebrow raised, again.

“Indeed,” she stated, “as you were, Mr. Eleutherio.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Eleutherio replied, smiling to himself. “Good morning, Lieutenant.”

“Good morning, Mr. Eleutherio,” Hood stepped over to the dual science station and took his seat to the right of the ensign. He quickly adjusted the station to display the science data to his liking and stored the custom presentation to the system.

[KaiserKirk]

OOC: seriously! For the second time, I have accidentally down-thumbed your post Asteropax. Again sorry for that and I like your new profile image!

USS Ares
Deck 8

After having a small talk to the head of therapy Angus asked each of the department HoD's for a list of resources that would be needed at hand. Now he was striding with a small data pad in his right hand listing all the needed supplies to the lift. As the doors closed and he asked the lift to take him to deck 6, the cargo bay. As the lift began to increase in speed as it raced upwards Angus thought it would be a good idea to pop into Engineering and see if they had any spare crewmen available to install the sickbays security measures. Angus douted this though as he suspected that they would be having a hard time getting all the vital parts of the ship ready on time.

USS Ares
Deck 6, Cargo Bay

The lift slowed to a stop and the doors opened with a hiss that he always seemed to notice. As he walked through the corridor filled with crewman of all skin and uniform colours, some were in groups talking or looking at similar pads to that of the one in his hand. Three engineers were crowded around an exposed part of the corridor's wall all looking confused and stressed. Finally, he had reached the inforced and heavy looking doors that opened with a low rumble rather than a light hiss. Inside was more claustrophobia than the crowded corridor. Equipment boxes of all shapes and sizes pilled one on top of another to create walkways. It felt more like walking down a narrow street than a walkway. Soon he reached a T-junction. About five metres away two Ensigns in orange were talking about recent Ferengie raids in Cardassian space, Angus summed them up as security personnel by the way they stood so confidently.

Accessing a map of the ship on his pad Angus zeroed in on his location. And then where he was going to meet the tactile officer.

To a larger and more populated extend

~"Left...Straight...Right....Left..."~ Angus thought as he memorized the route. And then he turned left still looking down at his pad.

As he came to a small clearing he noticed all around him white boxes of varying sizes stacked neatly. The Federation Medical Department logo was on almost every surface of the boxes. In the middle of the clearing was his target. Teriir was standing next to an opened box and a few crewmen who all looked busy sorting everything out.Teriir was facing away from Angus, instead, chatting with another officer.

((Tag Asteropax))

[Asteropax]

OOC: seriously! For the second time, I have accidentally down-thumbed your post Asteropax. Again sorry for that and I like your new profile image!

USS Ares
Deck 6 - Cargo Bay 1

As he came to a small clearing he noticed all around him white boxes of varying sizes stacked neatly. The Federation Medical Department logo was on almost every surface of the boxes. In the middle of the clearing was his target. Teriir was standing next to an opened box and a few crewmen who all looked busy sorting everything out.Teriir was facing away from Angus, instead, chatting with another officer.

Taking a moment from small talk with Locke on names he was thinking of for his child-to-be, Teriir turned around and saw Angus Hems coming over to join them. He smiled and started introductions, "Hello again, Doctor. This is my old friend Lieutenant Ian Locke from my days at the Academy."

As the two of them made introductions and Locke began informing Angus of the status of his medical supplies, a voice pipped up nearby, "Commander?"

He looked sharply to his other side. A human Ensign jumped back, looking worried that he may have startled a senior officer, "Sorry, sir."

"It's alright young man," Teriir answered, realizing that he was talking to someone who was not that much younger than himself. He recognized the Ensign's almost black hair and brown eyes, "Ensign Wallace Barron, right?"

"Yes, sir! Recent graduate from Starfleet Academy and son of Admiral Wilma -" the Ensign started to ramble.

"I'm well aware of Admiral Barron, mister," he stopped him. Admiral Wilma Barron had been leading the efforts which were assisting rebuilding Federation Colonies that had been affected by the Dominion War. That wasn't too important to him right now as his focus was shifted towards relief efforts for Cardassian Colonies, "Do you have something to report?"

"Yes, sir," Barron looked very eager to be working on his first assignment, almost pushing the PADD he was holding into Teriir's chest, "This is the manifest and security check of Cargo Bay 2."

"The mission critical supplies?" he took hold of the PADD and began reading through the manifest and security check. Ignoring the Ensign's renewed chatter about family service in Starfleet, he carefully looked through the lengthy list of relief supplies; welders to help in rebuilding, triage supplies to help provide for medical needs, radiation filters for cleanup of any toxic substances, plenty of blankets, and lots of foodstuffs. He frowned in surprise at the very end of the list, "Five industrial replicators and ten extra crates of relief supplies? Where did those come from?"

"From the Bajoran's, sir," Ensign Barron started explaining. Although Teriir focused on the Ensign, he was aware Angus had started peering over his shoulder to look at the PADD, "A First Minister named 'Bo' insisted we take them with us to deliver to the Cardassians. I checked and rechecked the delivery order and it was verified."

"Nice of the Bajorans to aid in the relief mission considering the Occupation," Teriir commented aloud as he scrolled over to the confirmation section. There it was; five Cardassian born industrial replicators and ten crates of relief supplies signed off by First Minister Bo Elris of the Musilla Province. He passed the PADD over to the Doctor so he could look at it, "Well, everything seems to be in order. What do you think?"

((Tag Angus))

[Scarlett]

USS Ares
Deck 11 - Arboretum

A’Mand listened intently as James described his father. Based on verb tense, she guessed James’ father had passed and she didn’t want to risk a negative response to further questioning. No doubt James’ file would reveal the facts, yet A’Mand preferred to learn about people at their convenience. Of course her duties would necessitate researching various crew backgrounds, but that was on a need-to-know basis; it was unethical otherwise.

”I agree about holodecks. The technology is perfectly amazing and certainly has its place, but ultimately it is a tool.” She paused to breathe deeply, as if enjoying fresh air, knowing full-well it was recycled. The irony was not lost on A’Mand.

“I’m going to risk sounding silly here, but a place like this, sure it’s pleasant to look at, but it doesn’t strike me that this would be at all, well, ‘homey’ for you. Am I off base here? My memory of the one time I went to ShiKahr as a kid didn’t allow for a lot of greenery. The chief thing I remember is that it was really dry and hot, like Arizona turned up to eleven.”

She turned to James. “Never silly, it is a logical question. I perceive this space is meant to link the one truth we all share aboard Ares; we all spent years at Starfleet Academy regardless of our birthplace or career path. Coincidentally, it is a reminder of Earth.”

A’Mand looked down to the grass and shuffled her feet across the blades. ”You are right: this does not remind me of ‘home’ at all and is not meant to be a critique.” Memories of Vulcan flashed through her mind: the rocky landscape dominated by orange-red hues with every recollection. It didn’t matter if she were alone, with others, day or night, the tapestry always held the same color.

“ShiKahr is much like you recall. It is hot, dry and … bright.” A’Mand looked up to James who had tilted his head, curious about her description. She smirked. Yes, bright. The ferrocrete of the buildings have been polished over the decades to make the city more inviting and warm to inhabitants and visitors. It’s also true that fauna is uncommon within ShiKhar. If you recall diverse colors it was likely from art whose primary purpose is to literally add color to the city.”

A’Mand sat back into the bench and placed her hands in her lap. This was a typical posture to convey she was relaxed. During sessions, she used this pose to pull her client into a similar state of mind. Although James did not seem to need clinical attention, she also did not consider the moment as such. After all, he was one of the few people she met on Ares so far.

“When was the time you visited Vulcan?”

(( Tag James Cole))

[Generator]

USS Ares
Deck 11, Arboretum

“Never silly, it is a logical question. I perceive this space is meant to link the one truth we all share aboard Ares; we all spent years at Starfleet Academy regardless of our birthplace or career path. Coincidentally, it is a reminder of Earth.”

As he listened to A’Mand, Jim’s face bore the expression of someone who’s managed to miss a simple truth that was staring him right in the face. “Wow,” he said. “Counselor, you can tell me that wasn’t silly, but in hindsight it seems like such an obvious point. I’m still gonna feel a little silly,” he said, holding his thumb and forefinger a few centimeters apart. He looked, shortened the distance by half, and looked at it again. “This much.”

“If you recall diverse colors it was likely from art whose primary purpose is to literally add color to the city.”

Jim sat in thought for a moment, then said, “The one that stuck in my memory was this one building a couple of blocks from the central Academy campus. Kind of low to the ground relative to its surroundings, and all done up in blues, turquoise, and some green. That one building, I remember feeling cooler just looking at it, whatever it was…”

When A’Mand asked when he visited Vulcan, Jim frowned for a moment. “Hmm, that would’ve been… ‘64? I was seven, and Mom was pregnant with Jess - I have a younger sister - so she didn’t want to travel. Dad let me come with him; I think Mom & Dad wanted me to get a little time with Dad before Jessica came along. That trip to Vulcan was my first time in a starship, and it’s pretty much what put the bug in my ear that ended me up sitting here talking with you. So, a big thank-you to the Vulcan Science Academy guest lecturer program,” Jim grinned.

“I’d love to go back. Holos of those mountains are absolutely stunning. I’m keen to try my hand at some hiking up there, if there are any trails that are, you know, more on the ‘enjoyable’ end of the spectrum, instead of ‘thinly-disguised-deathwish’-style hikes. Are there any spots a human can hike without killing himself?” he asked A’Mand.

((TAG A’Mand))

[Eaglesg]

USS Ares
Deck 1 - Captain's Ready Room

“I want to explain why we reserved the holodeck until ‘sunset’ today, sir,” Hood began, “I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings about the reservation on the same day as our maiden departure from Deep Space Nine. Even though there’s an accommodation in my file, I want to run it past you.

“On the holodeck, we built a tabernacle. It looks like the one we had on the northern coast of Hedrikspool Province, in the Nature Preserve, right on the beach, which we already lived in for seven days. We believe we are to live in it for one more day, completing the eight days, according to the Scriptures, as a reminder that the followers of Elohim lived in tents during the forty years in the Wilderness. Since the tabernacle is strictly a temporary dwelling place, it also reminds us that this life is also a temporary dwelling place, that our days are limited. It just so happens that the eighth day falls on our departure.

“Strictly from my perspective, sir, I’m taking it as Yeshua Ha-Mashiach is blessing our voyage,” Hood laughed, half-jokingly.

"I was aware that you had an accommodation. As long as this doesn't interfere with your duties on this ship you are of course more than free to do according to your religious beliefs. I appreciate your honesty with me, Mr. Hood. Enjoy your last day in your tabernacle," smiled the Captain.

Wilson headed then with Allan to the Bridge.

OOC: My next post will be the departure speech, so I urge everyone to end all DS9/Pre-Departure conversations/actions quickly

[Scarlett]

USS Ares
Deck 11 - Arboretum

“Hmm, that would’ve been… ‘64? I was seven, and Mom was pregnant with Jess - I have a younger sister - so she didn’t want to travel. Dad let me come with him; I think Mom & Dad wanted me to get a little time with Dad before Jessica came along. That trip to Vulcan was my first time in a starship, and it’s pretty much what put the bug in my ear that ended me up sitting here talking with you. So, a big thank-you to the Vulcan Science Academy guest lecturer program,” Jim grinned.

A’Mand considered the time involved; she squinted as if searching through a pile of memories. “That would mean I was halfway through the Primary Learning Conservatory in Shikahr. When you visited, we were likely within eight kilometers of one another.”

“I’d love to go back. Holos of those mountains are absolutely stunning. I’m keen to try my hand at some hiking up there, if there are any trails that are, you know, more on the ‘enjoyable’ end of the spectrum, instead of ‘thinly-disguised-deathwish’-style hikes. Are there any spots a human can hike without killing himself?”

A’Mand considered the question for a second. “No, every path is treacherous.” Seeing the surprise on James’ face, she quickly flashed a smile as if embarrassed from a poorly delivered jest. “My apologies, Vulcans are not known for their sporting prowess. I have heard of trails that allow passage through various terrain features, yet they are more functional versus for aesthetic, or athletic, purposes. No doubt there are challenges to any skilled hiker.”

“Interestingly enough, I did bring some holodeck programs of Vulcan for certain purposes. We just agreed that the holodeck is not the perfect substitute, but for our upcoming mission, I’m sure there is something we could consider for hiking.”

Not waiting for a reply, A’Mand stood and stepped onto the soft-padded walkway. Looking to James, she continued her train of thought. “Although, I suppose one should look for adventure in any chosen path. Wouldn’t you agree?”

She waved toward the large windows facing the rear of the ship.

(( Tag James Coles))

[Nesta]

Deep Space Nine
Promenade

R'Turan's lithe form hurried through the Promenade of Deep Space Nine, heading for the docking pylon where the U.S.S. Ares was docked. He had express orders from Admiral William Ross - commander of the Ninth fleet - to transfer to the Ares, to take the position of Executive Officer, as the station of first officer of the Ares was still unfilled. Due to the USS Ares being part of the Semper Exploro Project, this required R'Turan to fill the empty station of executive officer.

Hurrying towards the deserted docking port, R'Turan quickly entered, sprinting through the hallway towards the tubolift, and halting in front of it. He, commander R'Turan, had made it to the USS Ares. Quickly pushing the button to call the turbolift, R'Turan entered as soon as the doors opened, keeping his tail close to his body, as he had some nasty experiences with closing turbolift doors in the past.

USS Ares
Bridge

Once the turbolift doors opened, R'Turan walked out, and onto the bridge, having straightened his uniform in the turbolift. Looking around, he noticed the bridge to be empty, other than a few officers, who were booting up the Ares' key systems, preparing for departure. Walking towards the door of the captain's ready-room - presumably the captain was in there - he pushed the 'bell' button, and waited to be let in.

OOC: First post here, hope this is good enough, please let me know if I have done something wrong.

((Tag Matthew Wilson, Allan Hood.))

[Allan Hood]

USS Ares
Deck 1 – Bridge
“Mr. Eleutherio, run a level five diagnostic on our sensors,” the chief science officer said, “I don’t want us being caught off guard out there.” Hood chose a level five diagnostic, being the most automated determination of system performance to identify any potential malfunctions.

“Miss Falora, I’d like a level five diagnostic done on our deflector shield, just in case.”

Hood tapped his combadge and gave various science officers lists of systems to run similar diagnostics.

“Sir, if I may ask?” questioned Ensign Falora.

“Of course.”

Falora turned back to her station. She began running her diagnostic with ease while asking the science chief her question. Multitasking a conversation while running a level five diagnostic on the deflector shields would be distracting for other species.

“Is it logical to run diagnostics on our key systems when they have already been tested by the original engineers and scientists before leaving spacedock?” asked the ensign.

“Think of it as a ‘go/no go poll.’”

“Sir?”

“A launch status check. It was known as a “go/no go poll, in practice at the beginning of early spaceflight missions in the mid-twentieth century. The original flight controllers monitored various systems for operation and readiness status before a launch could proceed.”

“Presently, the ‘conn,’ our flight control station, combines the roles of both the navigator and helmsman,” Falora supplied.

“This is our maiden voyage as a crew together, beginning our journey into uncharted territory,” Hood began, “our closest starbase will be Deep Space Nine. We may not have too many places to pull-over.”

Falora nodded accepting his logic, yet, raised at eyebrow, questioning again.

“Pull-over?”

“It’s an intransitive verb meaning to steer one’s vehicle to the side of the road,” Hood explained, “it’s an old term, but we still use it while driving our hovercars, similar to desert fliers on Vulcan. I’m guessing you didn’t attend the Academy on Earth?”

“Correct, Lieutenant,” Falora said, “we did not have a need for hovercars or desert fliers on Relva VII.”

Once the turbolift doors opened, R'Turan walked out, and onto the bridge, having straightened his uniform in the turbolift. Looking around, he noticed the bridge to be empty, other than a few officers, who were booting up the Ares' key systems, preparing for departure. Walking towards the door of the captain's ready-room - presumably the captain was in there - he pushed the 'bell' button, and waited to be let in.

Hood turned over his shoulder, noticing the first officer gracefully floating to the captain’s ready room. Commander R’Turan, a dark fur-covered Caitian, waited patiently to be let inside.

“I hear he has the sense of humor of a Vulcan,” Eleutherio joked, “no offense, ma’am.”

“Why would I be offended, Mr. Eleutherio?” Falora asked without looking from her terminal, still focused on her diagnostic, “You believe your comment was displeasing or affronting? Why would you make a comment that may have insulted me or caused moral outrage?”

“No, no, I only meant that…” Eleutherio began, looking to Hood for support, and understanding, before being interrupted by Falora.

“Vulcans do not have a sense of humor,” Falora stated flatly. “Humor is a difficult concept; it is not logical.”

Eleutherio turned to Falora and back to Hood.

“Was that a joke?” Eleutherio mouthed, nonverbally.

((TAG R’Turan))

[Zach]

USS Ares
Deck Seven

Zach was walking around the saucer on Deck 7, trying to find his new home for the mission on Ares. ~"Semper Exploro..."~. Zach thought. It was a good name for the mission they were going to undertake. Pursuing exactly what Starfleet was meant for, in his mind. To explore strange new worlds and new civilizations.

Soon, he noticed some crewmen moving a couple boxes into some quarters, which turned out to be his. Zach squeezed past them to drop his duffle bag in the chair.

As soon as he did that, Zach turned around and started making his way back to the turbolift to make his way to Engineering before the Ares launched.

USS Ares
Main Engineering

Zach finally made it down to main engineering, where everyone was busy running around preparing systems and checking on the general health of the ship before departure. Granted that it was his first time on board a Sovereign class ship, it made sense to him to look at the Master Ship Display to get a quick overview of all the systems.

He was mumbling to himself, "Systems look good, intermix ratio is normal. Presets for reactions look good." He turned to a nearby crewman. "Crewman, has the Chief Engineer stopped by yet?" he asked.

"No, sir. I haven't seen the Chief Engineer yet." remarked the crewman.

Zach sighed, and remarked back, "Well, I guess that makes me him for now."

Shortly after that, Zach briskly walked over to a nearby console and performed a quick high-level Level 5 diagnostic of all systems, verifying that they were indeed ready to go.

The computer quickly pinged back with the all clear for all systems, and Zach smiled a little bit. Then, he stood back from the console and got engineering's attention.

"Everyone, I'm your Assistant Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Donaldson. Wonderful to meet you all, but we've got to make sure the Ares is good to go at a moments notice. Keep on your toes, as we're going to be a long way from the Federation on this new mission. Any problems, I want to hear about them. Thanks for your time." Zach announced to everyone in Main Engineering at the time.

As warp theory was one of his specialties, he had a look at the geometries of their warp field and confirmed that they were optimal. Again, he spoke to himself, "Warp field looks on par with specifications. Good."

He tapped a few more buttons, and ran through each system individually, making sure they were within the tolerances that he read about prior to starting his mission on the Ares. He smiled again, as everything looked in order.

Soon after, he tapped his commbadge to send a message to the Captain.

=/\= "Captain, Lieutenant Donaldson, Assistant Chief Engineer. All primary and essential secondary systems all check out down here for launch." =/\=

OOC: Sorry about the delay, folks. Life kinda hit me with a bag of bricks in the last month or so. Lieutenant Donaldson will be around for quite a while still...

((TAG Matthew Wilson))

[KaiserKirk]

OOC: Firstly I just want to apologise for my inactivity, all of a sudden life has gotten really busy and this is the first time I've been able to check Ares all week!

USS Ares,
Deck 6 - Cargo Bay 1

Angus had stopped in front of the two officers, forming a triangle. Angus turned to face Teriir and gave a smile while revealing a pad from behind his back.

"Hello again, Doctor. This is my old friend Lieutenant Ian Locke from my days at the Academy."

"Ah, hello Lieutenant, it's nice to meet you,"
Angus greeted happily as the two officers shook hands.

Angus took no note of the officer approaching Teriir as he continued his conversation.

"I'm CMO Hems but you can call me Angus, "
He stated, being invested in the conversation. He noticed in the corner of his eye a similar conversation between Teriir and an ensign. Angus never liked his joined trill name, Hems. It sounded so weird to him. That's why he always prefered being called by his rank or first name.

"Locke, sir, I'm with security,"[/size]
The young officer responded.

While Angus and Locke had a rather awkward conversation Teriir finished with the Ensign.

He passed the PADD over to the Doctor so he could look at it, "Well, everything seems to be in order. What do you think?"

Turning to face Teriir, Angus stood still for a fraction of a second to remember what he was doing, he hadn't been paying much attention to the conversation with Teriir and the young officer. Then taking the PADD out of his hands Angus examined the list closely. He had to make sure everything was onboard. After a few seconds, Angus handed the PADD back nodding.

"Thank you Teriir, everything seems to be in order... unfortunately I have got to get back to the sickbay for the launch,"
Angus concluded. Smiling as he walked back the way he came.

OOC: Yeah not my best work I have to admit, sorry for the bad writing.

USS Ares,
Deck 8 - Sickbay

All mission-critical departments are operational and the crew are eagerly awaiting departure. The sickbay was a lot quieter now that everything was ready, well mostly. Security hadn't been put in place yet but Angus doubted it would be needed anyway. After having a lengthy conversation with one of the nurses about diseases on Cardassia Angus strolled to his office to sit down. His chair was dark brown and very comfortable. It felt as if he was melting into it. As he sat in his office he scanned the room. every detail was examined. This was where he would be spending the majority of his journey, he thought. Finally, his eyes layed on the framed photo on his desk. The picture of Dan and Ollie laughing as they sat in front of a fountain at the academy. Picking it up and smiling he started to reminisce about his past life. How excited Ollie felt when he got his first assignment. How the feeling was shared now as Angus thought of the wonders and dangers that await in the void.

[Asteropax]

USS Ares
Deck 6 - Cargo Bay 1

"Thank you Teriir, everything seems to be in order... unfortunately I have got to get back to the sickbay for the launch,"
Angus concluded. Smiling as he walked back the way he came.

Teriir nodded and wished the Doctor well as he turned to resume examining the crates. The one he stood next to contained several pieces of surgical equipment. Although he knew what each of the tools were, he didn't know what the functional difference between a protodynoplaser and a thrombic modulator. He would leave that to the professionals. His own medical knowledge was limited to hyposprays, dermal regenerators, and whatever else was found in the standard medical kits. It took him a moment to realize Ensign Barron was still standing next to him.

"Carry on, mister," he instructed the junior officer.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Ensign Barron seemed to be looking serious rather than proud and hallow.

"Granted," Teriir wanted to know what was on his mind, specifically the reason for this attitude adjustment.

"Why are we helping the Cardassians when they," he hesitated while speaking, trying to find the right words to explain a question Teriir had asked himself many times, "They more or less caused the Dominion War by inviting them into the Quadrant? Why help the enemy when they . . . deserved worse?"

"For starters, they are not the enemy," Teriir began what had become a routine lecture of his, "We are at peace with them now and regardless of what anyone has done, they deserve the same chance to rebuild that we do. Never forget that when they changed sides in the war to join us, the Dominion made them pay for betraying them. Over 800 million of their citizens were killed on Cardassia Prime. From what I know of the Cardassians' outlying territories at the end of the war, they were also attacked by the Dominion during the waning hours of the war before their final retreat to Cardassia. It was estimated at least 500 million people died from those efforts alone, along with half of the Cardassians' total military. They suffered more than anyone else throughout the Dominion War and earn our compassion, not our disdain. They need help and we will give them that help because we, no matter how hard it is, will take the moral high ground. It's who we are."

OOC: I'm taking a wild guess here on the idea that the Cardassian Colonies were also devastated by the Dominion at the final stages of the war. If changes are needed on the specifics, I will edit as needed.

Ensign Barron seemed to be taking in the words, his face frowned and partially turned away. Teriir couldn't help but notice his eyes flash, almost as if he was trying to mask his true emotions on the subject. There was a lot more to it than just the question of continuing to provide assistance to the Cardassian people. He would have to pass Barron off to the councilors sometime so he could get some assistance. Whatever it was, he wouldn't be able to keep it to himself forever.

~"Keeping secrets buried. Even though I want him to come out and reveal things, I have some secrets I can't reveal to anyone. I hope his aren't anything like mine."~

Stepping forward, Teriir placed his free hand on the Ensign's shoulder to give a sympathetic gesture, "You're going to be fine. We won't be spending eternity in Cardassian Territory; We'll be off exploring before you know it."

"Aye, sir," Barron took the PADD containing the manifests from Cargo Bay 2 back and turned to return to his duties. Teriir let him walk away. Sometimes it is best not to pressure anyone further on subjects that are uncomfortable until you become more antiquated with them.

The Trill got back to work and placed the lid back on the cargo crate he was previously inspecting. Although he wanted Barron to understand the importance of forgiving, there was too much to do at this time to worry about that right now.

((TAG Angus))