[Silynn]

Dorvan V
Cardassian Embassy - Environmental Control/Repair Area

"Jeihee Han, as I live and breathe!"
The two had finally arrived at the area where Jei and Dawson were located. "I am very glad to see you! It seems like it's been ages since the Tian An Men. How has Starfleet been treating you?

Jei turned around and saw a familiar Bolian. One, she hadn’t seen for several years, since she served aboard the USS TIAN AN MEN, a Miranda-class, after being rescued from pirate raiders. There stood Biiqs Tarquin, now a Lieutenant Commander.

“Lieutenant Tarq…Commander Tarquin, it is good to see you. Things are as well as can be expected, life in Starfleet, right? Anyhow, I guess you’re here for the particular ‘rodent’ issue?” replied Jei.

"Sir, I think you'd better take a look at this." Malin's words drew him away from the greetings, and he came closer to the dislodged panel. "Looks Romulan..."
"Definitely," replied Malin, scanning it with his tricorder. "Although the power signatures are a little....wait, there's an explosive attached to it as well." After studying it for a while, he remarked, "I think I can disarm that part of it. Wait, there's something deeper here. There's another device in the generator. Give me a moment."

Jei consciously took a couple steps back in the alleyway, nudging and forcing Dawson to do so as well at hearing ‘I think I can disarm…’ from the Security Ensign. Jei trusted Tarquin’s judgment in people, but she didn’t know this Ensign Malin, so felt a little extra distance was a prudent decision.

"Of course." Biiqs rubbed his forehead ridge in thought. "Now this is strange indeed. First the Nausicaans breeze in right under our sensor network, and now a Romulan device planted in a Cardassian Embassy. Can't be the work of Nausicaans, although it would seem such. It's not unlike them to get a hold of foreign technology. But they certainly didn't plant it recently, our inhibitor network has been up. And it doesn't make sense for them have planted it when they first attacked the village, that's way too subtle. These thugs usually just take what they want. Jei, do you have any idea what the function of this device is? Or better yet, what all does this environmental console connect to?"

Seeing that Malin had the device disarmed and inert, Jei stepped forward as to not have to speak louder to answer Tarquin. "Ensign Malin, sir, may I see the device?”

Malin looked at Tarquin, who nodded, before he handed the device to Jei.

Jei took a moment to study the components, to learn what she could to give Tarquin an informed opinion.

“Well, sir, I think it was well-placed. If my instincts are correct, that device would have caused a power surge, which would have backlashed into the generator, to cause a cascade power failure… and possibly removing part of the transporter inhibitor grid around the Embassy area… maybe including your command post…” hypothesized Jei.

Jei continued. “A subsequent investigation would have likely believed it was just a catastrophic ‘old colonial’ equipment failure. The explosive charge seems to be only enough to completely vaporize this device, leaving no external trace of it. The residue, even if analyzed, may only come back as ‘part of the console circuitry. There may be a frequency hidden in that thing that would be used to remote detonate… this part here looks like a receiver…” explains Jei as she looks a bit closer. “Huh… it looks Federation… Starfleet to be exact, in origin. It’s the 7COM-Gamma 432. Used in a slew of com badges and other communicators. Max range on this guy is likely 500 kilometers or so.”

"Hmm, thank you. That is very interesting, indeed. Good work, though, Han. And...."

"Dawson, sir."

"Yes, Dawson, thank you...I--"

(TAG Tarquin)

[LogicalLeopard]

Dorvan V
Cardassian Embassy





"It's a fake..."

Biiqs stood in his office with Brag Malin, and Locke patched in from the Ares. He hadn't remembered the last time he'd been this unhappy. A traitor in the midst was probably the only thing that could bring out his ire to such a degree. His scope of trust was rattled, with Locke and Malin being the among the only people he was reasonably sure he could trust - both were around him for most of their time on planet, and neither were able to make the modifications to the sensors on the Ares, being on planet.

"A decent one, too," replied Locke. Preliminary forensic analysis indicates that it was assembled by Federation replicators, using a template that was very authentic to Romulan design patterns. We can tell it was replicated by one of ours, because there are small, telltale markers in the structure. However, a search of all the replicators logs didn't turn up anything."

"Could that be because it was done by one of the replicators we sent to the citizens here," queried Biiqs.

Malin answered, "It's possible, sir, but it's pretty easy to purge the logs on a replicator, if you have the know how, and security clearance."

"Security clearance. That's what this all boils down to. Someone was able to modify the sensors on the Ares and the Thames, and that requires security clearance to manage undetected. Also, has been crawling with Starfleet Security. No one would have thought it amiss."

Locke nodded his head, clearly disturbed by the implications to his department. "Although we can't totally rule out someone from Engineering or Ops, it certainly does seem like someone in this department had the best opportunity to accomplish this."

"Accomplish what, though?" Malin lifted his hands in an exasperated gesture. What would any Starfleet officer have to gain by endangering other officers and these poor citizens?"

"That is the question," said Biiqs, rubbing his forehead ridge. "Usually, when anyone works with Nausicaans, there are two primary motivations - profit or blackmail. Either you're seeking some financial gain by working with them, or they are threatening to break your limbs or kill your family, or whatever, to get you to do what they want. But this doesn't look like either.
It's hard to picture any way a Starfleet officer could be connected in some sort of money making scheme, or be in a bind through blackmail."

"What about the other familiar motivators for doing stupid things, sir? Love. Hate. Fear." Locke paused for a second, and immediately repeated, "Hate."

"We are dealing with Cardassians, and hate is a pretty strong motivator. That's probably why the embassy was rigged to lose power, and they probed us with a raiding party. Only problem is..."

"...that it doesn't help narrow our search down at all, because everyone has a reason to hate Cardassians." Malin finishes.

Biiqs sighed and looked at Locke on the video display for a few moments before responding. "Still...I suppose we need to try. Go through the personnel files, see if you can find anything that....stands out more than normal. Ask Counselor A'Mand if she is familiar with anyone in our department that matches the profile of someone who could pull this off. A loner, someone who is an efficient worker, but became more distant in the recent past, or experienced a personality shift of sorts. Someone who lost a lot of significant people or one really significant person in the war." Biiqs shrugged his shoulders. Even though I think that's just about all of us. Just see if something sticks out."


"Aye sir," Locke replied, "I'll get on it right away."

(( TAG A'Mand))

-----------

USS Ares
Deck 10


"But, isn't the planet lousy with Nausicaans?"

'Sir, Chief. Isn't the planet lousy with Nausicaans, sir."

Chief Alphonse Hayes stood up a little straighter. "Yes, sir, sorry sir."

"What does it matter to you, anyway, Hayes? You're a combat veteran. You've been telling me that ever since this tour started. These Nausicaans don't have personal cloaks and narcotics flowing in their veins. They shouldn't be a problem."

Chief Hayes just swallowed his pride and continued staring straight ahead.

"But honestly, Chief, it's a big planet, and the Nausicaans are far away from this particular mountain range. You don't even have to worry about them beaming in on you, the rocks in that area contain a natural transport inhibitor. It's really overkill to send three security officers with Dr. Cushing, but we have an image to uphold, and it'll make him feel better with a big tough escort. Take Petty Officer Kowalski and Specialist Patel with you. Patel's a good pilot, right?"

Hayes nodded, "Aye, sir."

"Good. And this is important - maintain radio silence. We don't want to clue the Nausicaans off about your mission, just in case. Just tell Dr. Cushing to wrap it up in three days because Commander Tarquin will be expecting you back by then."

"Aye, sir."

"Dismissed"

Hayes walked away stiffly, barely containing his rage. There was not a single more intoxicating thing in the quadrant than the single pip on an Ensign's collar, chased with youthful ignorance. The next time he got any rack time, he was sure he'd be dreaming of figuring out a way to make that ensign choke on it.

(( TAG Jei/Cushing))

[Allan Hood]

USS Ares
Deck 16 – Main Engineering

“Acknowledged, Mr. Hood. Begin the isolynic chain reaction.”

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, it’s the moment of truth…” Hood said not meaning to sound overly dramatic. The truth of the matter was that the planet’s health, and those of the colonists, all hung in the balance. The colonists, and their ancestors, had been through enough, over the last half millennium.

Science and Engineering had been working on the planet-wide decontamination process for long enough. All Science and Engineering teams checked in and seemed to have their ducks in a row. After dotting some i’s and crossing some t’s, they were ready.

A white-purplish beam fired into the troposphere. Epsilon Team monitored the feedback pulse of radiation to the deflector.

“Adjust the harmonics to compensate for the pulse’s energy inconstancies!” Hood called out as the ship began to vibrate. As Chief Science Officer, he had to fight the urge to push his people aside and take over. He knew he had to trust his team and Engineering to do their jobs. “Ride the levels!”

The sky turned into a blue-green as a series of energy waves rippled through the atmosphere. It started slowly but began growing steadily faster. Teriir tapped his combadge, “How’s it going?”

“So far so good, Captain,” Hood replied over the mild shaking of the ship. Nervous engineers and scientists glanced at each other while working from their stations. “We’re working on keeping our deflector while avoiding that subspace implosion from the warp core, sir.”

“Increase power to the plasma coils and start venting the excess radiation out through the warp nacelles,” the captain ordered, not taking his eyes off the sky.”

Now it was Chief Engineer Rosek Usam’s turn. He had been monitoring his teams, and the planet, from the Engineering terminal on the bridge.

Rosek increased power to the plasma coils and started the venting as ordered.
“DONE SIR everything is going as planned no problems this far”
Rosek continued to monitor the reaction until completion.
“Teriir you can expect rain on your end”

A new communications ping made him turn back to the window. The skies were now cloudy and dark, a sign rain was soon to arrive.

Hood had his team shutdown the feedback pulse and deactivate the deflector before reinitializing it to its main purpose, generating a forcefield to protect the ship from enemy attacks or natural hazards.

“Water vapor is cooling and condensing around the planet’s dust and condensation nuclei, sir. You might want to get your umbrellas out down there…”

After a long moment, the Ares' scientists and engineers cheered and congratulated each other.

“Well done!” Teriir smiled as he, Urquhart and Enok hurried over to the elevator. Moments later they were down on the ground level as a slow rain started to fall. He stepped outside and stuck his hand out slightly to catch a few drops.

[Asteropax]

USS Ares
Deck 16 - Counselor’s Office

Continued from earlier post

“Everyone is doing well,” Monica answered, “There have been a few concerns over the Cardassians but your own actions on the first day here have really helped the crew settle in.”

“How so?” Dyrell asked.

“The stories you told the Senior Officers about the War were shared among the crew,” she explained, speaking as though she were a Counselor twice her age, “Your stance that we have to look ahead and not behind. Telling us that we’re going to have a hard time working with them because we’ve only seen the bad things that have happened. Reminding us that there is a lot of good we’ve yet to see from them. You’ve set an example for them and they are doing their best to follow it.”

(( TAG: A’Mand ))

“Okay, I knew I was a role model for them but not big enough for them to put aside their worries like that.”

“Oh, just wait until Stardate: 59455,” Monica broke from her professionalism and smiled at him mischievously, “You’ll find out how much of a role model you are then.”

“What happens on June 16th?” Dyrell asked her, suddenly feeling concerned he’d just been roped into something.

She laughed lightly and teased him, “It’s a new tradition aboard starships with children that was started aboard the Enterprise D; a school activity in which the children show their admiration to the ship’s Captain. You’d better talk to Mr. Raines, the head school teacher, for the details.”

“Oh, great,” he commented nervously.

“You have plenty of time to figure out what you’re going to do,” she reassured him, “As for the crew, you are the Captain. It’s as simple as that and we’re here when you need us.”

“Okay,” he answered, letting his thoughts shift through some of his prior discussions with various officers. He frowned as he began thinking back to the shuttlebay just a few short days ago, “I know I shouldn’t worry too much about the daily going ons around the crew these days, but I was ended up speaking with a crew member about some problems he has.”

“Which crew member?”

“One of the Security officers, Ensign Wallace Barron,” Dyrell replied, “It sounds like he’s been having trouble making friends here.”

Monica looked at him curiously, “Has he mentioned to you the type of trouble?”

“Actually, one of the Chiefs more or less stated she didn’t like his pickup lines,” he cringed slightly as he went into more details, “But when I talked to him, it seemed like there was a lot more to it. He hasn’t been in any of the recreational facilities and doesn’t seem . . . interested in his coworkers in Cargo Bay 2. I’m not referring to dates; friends in general.”

“There is one thing to remember about that,” Monica replied softly, “We have only been out here for a relatively short time. There hasn’t been enough time for all of the friendships among the crew to develop yet nor routines for people to follow. He’ll make friends in time.”

“It’s more than that; he lost family during the Dominion War and when I suggested he speak to a family friend I realized is aboard the Lakota, he waved it off,” Dyrell informed her.

“So he’s looking for friends but doesn’t want to share his own loss,” she guessed with a glance at A’Mand, “We’ll make sure to speak to him and find some way to help him. There’s a long journey ahead of us so we’ll make sure to welcome all the crew members we can to help keep their spirits up.”

“That’ll be great,” he smiled, “Thank you.”

“Is there anything else we can help you with right now?”

“That covers everything,” Dyrell answered with a subtle wave of his hand, “Is there anything you’d like to add, A’Mand?”

(( TAG: A’Mand ))

[Allan Hood]

USS Ares
Deck 8 – Holodeck 2
“Any real body must have extension in four directions: it must have Length, Breadth, Thickness, and—Duration,” explained a man excitedly to his friends, walking, and almost dancing, around a late-nineteenth century home. His friends consisted of someone from a medical background, a psychologist, a politician, an editor, and a reporter, a young man of an undeclared occupation, and someone who refused to give into the discussion, perhaps someone of a religious background.

“But through a natural infirmity of the flesh, which I will explain to you in a moment,” the animated and dynamic man began with his speech. “We incline to overlook this fact. There are really four dimensions, three which we call the three planes of Space, and a fourth, Time. There is, however, a tendency to draw an unreal distinction between the former three dimensions and the latter, because it happens that our consciousness moves intermittently in one direction along the latter from the beginning to the end of our lives.”

Allan Hood loved hearing this lecture on the holodeck among the incandescent lights and the almost modern looking patented chairs designed by the lecturer, himself. Everything seemed to be clashing at once, both across time and space. He walked around the room, listening to the lecture and trying out the eccentric-looking chairs for this age. Hood needed this escape after dealing with cleansing the planet’s radiation problems for days on end.

“But some philosophical people have been asking why three dimensions particularly,” the lecturer explained, seemingly pointing his finger at his ideas in midair, “why not another direction at right angles to the other three?—and have even tried to construct a Four-Dimensional geometry. Professor Simon Newcomb was expounding this to the New York Mathematical Society only a month or so ago. You know how on a flat surface, which has only two dimensions, we can represent a figure of a three-dimensional solid, and similarly they think that by models of three dimensions they could represent one of four—if they could master the perspective of the thing. See?”

“For the sake of argument,” Hood said to the room of friends, “I must bring up that Professor Simon Newcomb makes the point that building a ‘flying machine’ is impossible, for instance. He bases his logic on the fact that as our speed slows, we begin to fall. Soon as we stop moving, we’ll drop as a ‘dead mass,’ concluding that we could never build something that both supports someone’s weight, and propels someone through the air, simultaneously. Newcomb suggests that we’d have to add an element to the periodic table and discover some new force to ‘lift’ an object into the air.”

The lecturer considered Hood’s words for a minute. “My dear Mister Hood, simply because one finds something difficult to understand, or are unaware of how to properly enhance a mechanism, one should not conclude that the probability of its existence, especially in some future time, will never materialize. Complex subjects like the speculation of flight and the practicality of the fourth dimension, require some amount of understanding before one is able to make an informed judgement about the subject at hand.”

Hood smiled to himself while considering the irony of a fictional time traveler of the late 1800s in opposition to the chief science officer, who based his career on the study of temporal mechanics.

“Point made, my friend,” Hood conceded. “To build on your premise, if there truly is a fourth dimension, could there also be a fifth and a sixth? Could these dimensions ever increase at right angles to each other, indefinitely?”

Again, the lecturer considered Hood’s words while the others watched, smoking their cigars and lighting those waiting.

“As for higher dimensions, I make no argument for or against,” the lecturer began, “I only speak of which I have practical knowledge and experience, though, I imagine there must be an ever increasing, infinite number of mathematical dimensions.”

“Then, if that is the case,” Hood continued, indirectly hinting at Einstein-Maxwell field equations, “wouldn’t the fifth dimension, from your viewpoint of a four-dimensional theory, be derived from a five-dimensional theory with complete symmetry in all five dimensions? Would that suggest that electromagnetism resulted from a gravitational field that is ‘polarized’ in the fifth dimension?”

“My dear sir!” the orator exclaimed. “Electromagnetism? Gravitational polarization? How do you go from a skeptical position to that of one tangent to our native topic? Again, I must say that I only speak of which I have practical knowledge and experimental verification, which is the fourth dimension, in particular!”

“Experimental verification!” cried out one listening. “You are going to verify that?”

“The experiment!” cried out the redheaded news editor.

“Let’s see your experiment anyhow,” said one who claimed to be a psychologist, “though it’s all humbug, you know.”

The orator eventually retreated amongst all the skepticism and retrieved a working model of his time machine and laid it upon a table beside his lamp. Everyone stood around, asking questions, gawking at the strange device, laughing to themselves. With a length about that of a phaser, the device featured a thin metallic framework of nickel, brass, ivory and transparent crystal.

“It took two years to make,” the Time Traveler began. “Now, I want you clearly to understand that this lever, being pressed over, sends the machine gliding into the future, and this other reverses the motion. This saddle represents the seat of a time traveler. Presently, I am going to press the lever, and off the machine will go. It will vanish, pass into future Time, and disappear. Have a good look at the thing. Look at the table too, and satisfy yourselves there is no trickery. I don’t want to waste this model, and then be told I’m a quack.”

“The crystal must channel chronitons,” Hood said breaking character, “it seems that a small chronokinetic surge forms and is released to that superconductive crystal, which would emit a chroniton flux.”
“Chronitions, you say?” the time traveler asked.

“They are subatomic particles with temporal properties,” Hood clarified.

“However you may designate them or style them, this operation is under my patent, my good man!” the time traveler exclaimed and laughed. “Please do not speculate too well!”

The time traveler reached across and took the hand of the psychologist, possibly the most skeptical of us all, to activate the device. Upon triggering the machine, there was an odd breeze that caused the lamp’s flame to increase, momentarily, blowing out one of the mantel’s candles. The model began to spin, become transparent, and disappeared from our temporal frame of reference.

“Allan,” Sami-Jo Hood, called over the holodeck’s intercom. “When are you coming home? Are you still in the holodeck?”

“Look here,” said that of a suspected medical background, “are you in earnest about this? Do you seriously believe that that machine has travelled into time?”

“Sorry, wife,” Hood called up into the air, “I lost track of time. I’m on my way home.”

“Certainly,” said the time traveler. “What is more, I have a big machine nearly finished in there…”

“Computer, end program and save.”

[Josh Broughm]

USS Ares
Somewheres on Deck 7


Sam was on his way to the Diplomatic Complex when he encountered the Captain.
- Hey Cap. Might I ask a favor of you?

((Tag Terrir))

Sam scratched his head, and said,
- Talks went well. After day two, we kinda did a bit of drinking. A suggestion for the future.....Never, EVER binge on bottles of Cannaar if you're willing to pay a HEFTY PRICE in the form of a RIPPER of a hangover.

((TAG Terrir))

Sam smiled shyly, asking,
- If its not any trouble, might I ask you to officiate my & Akyv's wedding? She wants to live on board wirth me now and we figured that we could do it here on board the ship.

((TAG Terrir))

Sam's face split into a very wide grin.
- Thank you very much, sir!!! Now, I need to figure out rings for us. Got any advice?

((TAG Terrir | you suggest the resident blacksmith))

Sam nodded a bit.
- He seems to be a bit aloof. Only seen him once or twice. What's up with his right arm?

((TAG Terrir))

Sam Grimaced heavily.
- Oof. must've been a hell of a fight. I'll talk to him about doing a pair of wedding rings for us.

((Tag Terrir))

END POST

OOC: My next post will be betwix Sam & Max

[Scarlett]

USS ARES
Counselor’s Office

Attachment 8042

Counselor A’Mand and her assistant, a young Human woman, were inside, seated on a set of cushioned chairs near the center of the room. A’Mand stood up to greet him.

The Vulcan extended a hand as a relaxed gesture. “Greetings Captain. My assistant, Ensign Carter and I are still working on rotation schedules for the team and crew.” After Teriir released his polite grip, A’Mand motioned him toward a seat behind him. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“This is both a business and social call,” he answered as he took a seat on a couch across from the two counselors. As the Assistant Counselor poured each of them a glass of Bolian Tonic Water, he explained what he meant, “I would like to know how everything is going down here and I have a few things I would like to talk about. I have some concerns which I would like an extra opinion on.”

A’Mand’s eyes sparkled at the introduction. “Although I planned to share some views in my briefing, a summary now is sufficient. From observations made, the crew, overall, is dedicated to the current mission and almost everyone is working to their potential. I say, ‘almost everyone’ as there are natural outliers: inexperienced personnel unsure of their place, even if they know their role.”

Teriir nodded and A’Mand continued. “As to your personal concerns,” she looked to the young woman to her side, “I think Ensign Carter should have a chance to share her excellent ability to provide unvarnished feedback.”

“Me? Have a conversation with the Captain? But I’ve never held a counseling session with someone of his rank before,” Monica Carter replied in surprise, shooting a glance from her supervisor to him and back. She closed her eyes and took a breath before sitting down, “Okay, I’ll think of this as a test.”

A’Mand listened as the pair discussed Teriir’s concerns about leading a sizable crew. It was Carter’s suggestion that Teriir seclude himself from interpersonal relationships that needed explanation.

“As a Captain, you are above the daily goings on of your crew. It’s up to your staff to judge who’s better suited where and you are needed to ensure the smooth interactions between everyone. When forming relationships, you can’t go much beyond friends with your crew,” Monica commented, “When trouble arises, your concern should be for your ship and crew as a whole. Having friends or loved ones around may compromise your judgement as you’ll be more worried for them than everyone else. To me; a captain’s home is their chair and the crew is off limits.”

Teriir looked to A’Mand for support one way or another. She raised an eyebrow in typical Vulcan fashion when a maxim revealed itself. “There is plenty of research on that point of view, sir.”

“You aren’t the first counselors to tell me this,” he acknowledged her comment.

The discussion turned from the risks of leadership forming extra-professional bonds to the fact the Captain is to propose marriage, knowing full well Dianne would not be able to fully appreciate Teriir’s position.

“Captain Vel’Tor always made sure to treat his people with honesty and respect,” Dyrell replied. He realized she was asking him to think about other commanding officers he’d met for examples on practices he should consider for his own crew, “He was always social with the various crew members he consistently had contact with and befriended his Senior Officers. He married back when he was a Lieutenant and has three children. His wife and kids live on another ship but he makes certain to keep in contact with them. The entire time I worked under him, he never played favorites and let everyone play to their strengths.”

The Chief Counselor nodded. “It sounds like Captain Vel’Tor was wise to share that point of view. Considering the suggestion to keep personal distances, it’s unrealistic to have emotional species follow that idea to their professional ends. Each of us will learn from one another, yet it requires other levels of interactions beyond what is needed on the Bridge.”

Teriir suggested Monica Carter may have a chance at the Captain’s chair, which buoyed her spirits. He repeated his concern about the crew’s disposition, but Monica supported A’Mand’s earlier assessment because the crew seemed to savor the actions of their Captain, more than his words. This was not a negative point of view, per se as the current moments required decisive action and Teriir was fulfilling his duty well.

With all the talk in broad strokes, A’Mand was curious Teriir would bring a specific crew member onto the pallet. Still, A’Mand mused if the particular crewperson impacted the Captain strong enough it was worth investigating further.

“Is there anything else we can help you with right now?”

“That covers everything,” Dyrell answered with a subtle wave of his hand, “Is there anything you’d like to add, A’Mand?”

The Vulcan shook her head as she stood, signaling the session was complete. “This is has been an enlightening conversation Captain. Thank you for making the time with us.”

Departing pleasantries were exchanged until the door to the office closed. A’Mand turned to Monica and nodded approvingly. Monica beamed with pride at the silent commendation.

“So, the Captain has shared concerns about Ensign Wallace Barron. Time to help a fellow crewmember.”



((TAG: None))

EDIT - mistagged. Catching up on LogicalLeopard's post soon.

[Allan Hood]

Dorvan V
Outside Main Settlement – Along the Egwanulti

Hood walked along the Egwanulti, heading upstream, following the old man, which he ate with days ago, who still would not give his name. The river was called “Egwanulti” in the Cherokee language, combining the names equoni for “river” and nulati for “near,” named after ancient Cherokee villages located on the shores of a similar river on Earth.

At first, Hood fought to keep his tricorder in its holster, taking in the natural beauty around him. The old man guided Hood through a canopy of alien trees, finding those similar to eastern hemlock, red maple, yellow buckeye, beech, sycamore, white basswood, dogwood and tuliptrees. After consulting his tricorder, Hood saw that the river stretched sixteen kilometers from the village where it eventually split into several smaller creeks, steadily flowing from a peak of six-hundred meters into the mountains.

Hood turned the tricorder toward the ground and the mountainside to discover that the underlying area around the massif contained some of the oldest exposed rocks on the southern continent. The granite gneiss was formed over a billion years ago from the gradual accumulation of marine sediment and igneous rocks.

The Dorvanians, especially those of the Cherokee tribe, considered the river sacred. Besides giving fresh water to the settlement, it reminded a lot of those in the Cherokee tribe of their homes back on Earth.

To show his appreciation for helping to clean the environment, the old man wanted to take Hood to an area he called Ya'nu-u'nata wasti'yi, “Where the bears wash.” Of course, there were not any bears on the planet, but, there was not any word for the creatures.

While adjusting settings on his tricorder, Hood began walking closer to the river, leaving the footsteps the old man left for him to follow, only for the old man to quietly grab his right arm above the elbow and bring him back to the animal trail they were following. The old man brought his finger to his lips and walked bent over, gliding his left moccasin above any rocks and slowly, silently, pressing his foot back to the ground.

Hood’s Starfleet issue boots did not conform to the terrain, leading his ankles to wobble at times, loudly breaking twigs as they walked next to the ancient river along the mountainside incline to their right.

The farther they walked, the slower and lower the old man moved, like a shadow through the daylight, unseen through the trees and bushes.

Hood tried mimicking his walking pattern, lifting one foot high enough to clear any small branches and grass, extending it forward and slowly moving it towards the ground. He kept his toes up as his foot fell close to the ground. He landed on the outside of the ball of his foot, first, not putting his full weight on it. Then, he rolled his foot sideways, letting the rest of the ball slip onto the ground to feel for any stones or sticks that might give away their position.

Hood watched as he would detect a twig through his moccasin and instead of snapping it, the old man put his foot somewhere else and try again, without looking. He lowered his heel to the ground, then his toes, transferring his total weight, with his hands balanced on his knees for extra support.

Then, the old man froze. Not moving, no hand signals, just staring. Hood closed his tricorder carefully and looked up. A heard of bearlike dogs, or doglike bears, were drinking from the river. Dark in color, with stripes matching the trees, they panted in the heat between massive gulps of water running down their wide necks. Their legs were enormously muscular, considering the amount of fur covering them. Standing slightly over waist-high, one growled at another when it got too close.

A second later, Hood felt fear set. These doglike bears could easily surround the two of them, a few may even be sneaking up on them now. Hood reached for his phaser just as the old man’s eyes silently darted to Hood’s hand, silently screaming to not move. Reluctantly, Hood obeyed.

Giant rhinoceros-like elephants, or elephant-like rhinoceroses, began stepping into view. The dogbears moved farther downstream, closer to Hood and the old man, though the rhinoelephants were across the river. Again, the old man darted his eyes to Hood, keeping Hood’s phaser in its holster by sheer will.

Catlike dogs leapt from the trees across the river from the duo and made their way closer to the elephant-rhinos, hissing at the beardogs along the way. Massive barkgrowls erupted from the dogbears, countering the hissing, but neither heard dared crossing the river, as if there was a mutual understanding. The elephant-rhinos did not seem concerned by either herds’ performance.

Minature horselike wolves, only knee-high to the two humans, walked within arm’s-length and crossed the trail in front of them to get to the river. The last one froze in the trail, staring at Hood and the old man, unsure of what to do. Then, it darted out into the river, past those of its kind. As it called out, one of the catlike dogs pounced on it, causing an uproar from the beardogs. The beardogs circled the downed horsewolves, biting at the cat creatures. One of the elephant animals stomped a catdog and used its massive tusks to sling it into the river.

The old man did not move the entire time. The world seemed to be coming to an end in front of them and the old man did not flinch. Hood held his ground until he saw one of the dogbears growlbark in their direction, calling on another to follow it. They ran through the woods, leaping downed trees and headed straight to the two humans.

Hood brought out his phaser and fired, only for it to shoot straight up to the sky after feeling the old man connect his hands with Hood past his elbow. Hood fell back as the old man turned to face his two attackers, unarmed.

“Emergency transport!” Hood called after slamming the combadge. “Two to beam up!”

They materialized in a transporter room, Hood laying on the ground, phaser in hand, and the old man standing with a disappointed look on his face. The ops crewman ran toward the downed lieutenant.

“As you were, crewman,” Hood called to him as he got to his feet. “Only my pride is injured.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Beam us back to the main settlement,” Hood said after searching the old man’s disappointed countenance and standing up alongside him.

“Energize.”

[WelshAvenger]

Dorvan V
Main Settlement






Christopher hoisted his medical kit aboard the shuttle Ramses, trying not to let on to the assembled security officers just how much he had struggled with the heavy pack. He could see that the interior of the shuttle was loaded with supplies and equipment ready to deliver to the remote colonists. Christopher became dimly aware that one of the security officers had spoken to him. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Chief Hayes gave him a patient look, “Where’s our final passenger, Sir? We’re ready to get underway.”

Christopher heard the unmistakable tone in the man’s voice, “Petty Officer Han will be here momentarily, Chief. It was kinda short notice that you were arriving in the first place.” Christopher let his mild rebuke sink in and looked out of the shuttle door.

* * * *

Jei double checked her kit as Dawson stood nearby relating that the shuttle she was supposed to get on, had powered up their engines. Jei wasn’t ignore her friend and teammate. She was just focusing on making sure she had the right items for this mission.

If the shuttle pilot was so impatient, she knew that the pilot would be more than angry if they had to turn the shuttle around and return to base to retrieve a critical item that Jei may have overlooked in ‘rushing to meet a schedule’. As far as Jei was concerned, in her line of work, rushing is what can cause mistakes. There was a time and place for rushing things. This was not one of them.

Dawson pointed at a man, a Security Chief, walking down the rear ramp and looking over at Dawson. “Um, Jei… I think the Chief is wondering why you aren’t onboard?”

Jei zipped her pack shut and threw it over her shoulder as she walked over to Dawson. “Don’t do anything I would do, Dawson. Keep your head down and stick close to Chief Nakamura, ok?”

“Yeah, yeah… ok, Jei… but I’m not your kid brother, I’m a man, you know?”

“Sure, and who had to talk to your mother when you got impaled by that durasteel rod several weeks back? Your mom made me promise her that I would keep you out of trouble… made me PROMISE her…” explained Jei.

“Yeah, sorry about my moms Jei… she’s a bit, you know.”

Jei gave Dawson a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, but you better do as I say,” grinned Jei. Looking over, she saw Chief Hayes waving her over. “Well, I better get going, I recognize that look. It is of a Chief starting to lose their patience with me.”

Jei trotted over to Chief Hayes and the waiting Shuttle. “Sorry, Chief. I had to take care of some last minute tasks,” explained Jei.

The security Chief looked at Jei, sizing her up and visually inspecting her gear. She had a backpack and was carrying a toolkit. “Where’s your sidearm, Han?”

“Sidearm, Chief?”

Hayes pointed at the empty spot where a phaser sidearm would be holster on Jei’s waist. “Yes, Petty Officer… your sidearm. We’re going into a redzone. Protocol dictates that you be armed.”

“Isn’t that why you’re here, Chief? I thought I’m here just to fix things, not shoot stuff,” countered Jei.

Christopher heard the clearly irate Security chief, “Mister Hayes, I don’t think it escaped your notice that I’m not carrying a sidearm either.”

The chief blustered, “No sir, it did not and I was about to remind you..”

“That there are plenty of phasers in the sidearms locker of the shuttle.” Christopher cut him off. “Couple that with the fact that there are three Starfleet security officers on this mission which should be enough to discourage any trouble, am I correct Chief?”

Hayes turned a remarkable shade of red as his anger threatened to get the better of him, “Yes, you’re correct.”

Christopher’s head shot up as he looked the man square in the eye, “How’s that, Chief?”

“You’re correct, Sir.” The chief responded, his irritation very clear to read on his face.

“Jei, go get your things stowed away, we’ll be leaving after I’ve had a word with the Chief.” Christopher said softly.

Jei walked over to an empty seat and opened the storage locker above it. Luckily it was empty, so Jei stowed her tool bag then removed her backpack to place in the locker. She secured the locker, saw the green LED change to red indicating it was secured. Satisfied, she took her seat.

It didn’t go unnoticed that the pilot and the other enlisted security officer were looking at her. Seeing that Christopher and Chief Hayes were having a discussion out of earshot, Jei looked at the two security officers. “What?” inquired Jei.

The pilot, Specialist Amita Patel, spoke up first. “You sure know how to rile up Starfleet Chief’s, Petty Officer Han.”

“Chief Hayes is not a guy you want to be on the bad side of…” added Petty Officer Kowalski.

Jei crossed her legs and arms, as she leaned back into her chair. “I didn’t do anything, against regulations. No one told me about this requiring to be armed. If case you didn’t realize, phasers aren’t exactly standard issue for me. Never got one and don’t have one.”

Patel looked at Kowalski and gave him a nod. Kowalski stood up, opened the arms locker and retrieved a standard phaser sidearm. He checked it, ensuring it was set to stun, then handed it, holster included, to Jei. “Here, take this.”

Jei took it, turned it over as she inspected it, then clipped it to her waist. “Let’s hope I never need to use it.”

“Amen, sister.”

Christopher moved outside the shuttle so that the other crewmen wouldn’t hear his conversation, Chief Hayes following stiffly behind. “OK Chief, what was all that about?”

The Chief squared his shoulders, “Sir?”

Christopher sighed, “Don’t give me that, sir, nonsense Chief. I didn’t graduate from the academy yesterday.”

“It’s my job to make sure that you’re prepared for this mission to go wrong, sir. That includes making sure that everyone is equipped and on time.” Hayes explained.

Christopher bridled at the man’s ignorance, “Did you, at any time on the way down here, contact us to explain that sidearms were needed?”

“No, Sir.” came the terse reply.

“Furthermore, did you contact us at any point to let us know your ETA?” Christopher continued.

“No, Sir, we thought..” Hayes began.

“You thought but you didn’t check, did you?” Christopher asked. “You assumed we’d be ready with all our gear the moment you touched down. As it happens, I was working out of my med kit anyway so I was good to go but PO Han had way more kit than I did. It looks like she’s brought enough to rebuild the village. You wouldn’t want to get halfway there to find that we had to turn around because you rushed her and she forgot something, would you Chief?”

The Chief’s shoulders slumped, “No, Sir.”

Christopher relaxed his tone, “Alright then. Cut PO Han and I some slack and if there’s something we’re not doing right, just remind us, politely. I’m going to need your expertise because we’re not all tactical trained, Chief, and I trust that you can nursemaid a Doctor and an Engineer through an uneventful trip to the mountains in the opposite direction to the Nausicaan bases?”

Chief Hayes’ chest swelled ever so slightly at the appeal to the man’s pride, “I’ll do my best, Sir.” He said with a wry smile.

Christopher clapped the man on the shoulder as they walked up the ramp, “Specialist Patel,” he began, “I can’t imagine a single reason why we’re not airborne, can you?”

Patel smiled as she turned to the shuttle controls, “No, Sir! Engaging thrusters.”

Christopher winked at Jei as the village began to disappear beneath them.

[Allan Hood]

Dorvan V
Surrounding Main Settlement
With the radiation clearing, Hood’s science team worked on the science division’s secondary objective: conducting a planetary survey for colonization, resources, and updating the knowledge of the planet’s current culture and society. Hood guessed that Starfleet was still interested in Dorvan V and already had a baseline conducted on the planet. This new updated survey was to show the impact of radiation after the planet was soaked and how the Dorvanians adapted.

What are the side effects? How did the radiation effect the flora and fauna of the planet? Which resources were contaminated and unsalvageable? How has the Dorvanians’ culture changed as a result of the attack?

The Dorvanians’ culture and society, before the attack, was well documented by themselves and the crew of the Enterprise-D eleven years ago. Now, it seems, Starfleet wants to know how they progressed, if possible.

Hood’s science teams were reassigned from the radiation project to the planetary survey, to answer Starfleet’s questions, among others, that were expected to crop up.

Hood looked forward to filing the planetary survey report, documenting the findings of his teams, with their analyses.

Walking amongst the teams, Hood soaked up everything they scanned. There were giant rhinos/elephants as tall as a giraffe and a creature with the back of a camel, snout like a pig, body like an antelope, and saber-teeth. There were also giant scaled badgers darting around, trying not to be tagged by the biologists.

As for insects, the teams found beetles covered in thorns, flying scorpion-like arachnids, humming ant-like creatures and a worm-like caterpillars with seven pairs of legs, ending in claws, and long spines sprouting from its back. It's teeth filled its mouth and all the way down its throat, which seemed to flex in and out as it swallowed.

Besides mapping stars and charting nebulae, Hood loved exploring the unknown possibilities of existence. How did life evolve on this planet? Did the radiation effect the evolution of the flora and fauna? What can we learn from life’s experiences on this planet that may help the Federation? Though the last question was a stretch, it was always kept in mind.

[Allan Hood]

USS Ares
Deck 7 – Hoods' Quarters
“Are you coming to bed?” Sami-Jo Hood, Allan’s wife, asked from the bedroom.

“In a minute,” Allan called back, “just want to figure a couple more things out.” Sami-Jo knew that meant he would be another hour, at least.

Allan turned back to his terminal, custom additions added, making it into a small laboratory. He had a small quantum microscope, holographic projectors, and mini-terminals for small astrophysical, geological, biological, medical, chemical, and electrical experiments.

Allan’s love for science and his family overlapped often, sometimes conflicting with each other, though he found ways to manage. Bringing his family on an interstellar Starfleet mission to map unknown space, for instance.

Bedtime, when Allan’s theta waves formed in his brain, is the time ideas flowed effortlessly, spontaneously, and very positive. As a result of new ideas entering his head, Allan automatically headed to his workstation, bringing his brainwaves back up to beta and alpha, amidst his wife’s, and sometimes children’s, protests.

Allan worked on a small holographic model of transporter relay stations. His dream, in both alpha and theta wavelengths, involved a transporter relay station network that stretched across the Federation, connecting solar systems to space stations, to outposts, and starships.

Of course, this is not an original idea. Yet, the need and the possibility of such technology seemed within Starfleet’s grasp and needed perfected, motivated and sought after.

Transporters already dip into subspace when sending a pattern from one location to another. Though transportation is the safest way the travel, the dipping into subspace, for fractions of a second, is where the danger lurks.

After 40,000 kilometers, it becomes harder to keep the pattern intact while traveling in subspace. Though an object’s molecules and atoms get scatter and recollected, at least the pattern is stored and safe. But, if that pattern is lost, while in subspace, that pattern can be lost forever.

Allan was always tempted by “subspace transporters,” transporters with the ability to transport patterns lightyears away, instead of merely tens of thousands of kilometers. The name, “subspace transporters,” always irked him; all transporters use subspace. The ones known as “subspace transporters” rely heavily on the assumption that subspace will remain stable at such great distances.

Starfleet found the perfect subspace frequency for transporters functioning within tens of thousands of kilometers, but, stretch that over lightyears and the frequency does not do the trick.

When matter travels in subspace for lightyears, especially a molecular pattern, strange things happen. For one, the matter enters a state of quantum flux, making the matter itself highly unstable, easily degradable and more likely to lose a pattern lock. Starfleet recorded officers and crewmen, while scientists performed experiments, that involved people and objects that have rematerialized in alternate dimensions, accidentally entering a fifth dimensional alternate existence by beaming through the sixth dimension.

As a result, the Federation researched “subspace transporter technology” and found it “impractical.” The stamp of impracticality lead to the development and experimentation to be scrapped since it was deemed unreliable and used too much energy. Yet, the technology was tempting to scientists for the simple fact that it would make a two-day trip at warp 9, over a distance of ten lightyears, be instantaneous.

Pattern buffer malfunctioning was the leading cause of transporter accidents. With this in mind, Allan’s miniature holographic model involved subspace transporter relay stations, large matter-antimatter reactors, and multiple pattern buffer redundancy stations, all in an effort to not use the “impractical subspace transporter technology.”

Allan could not understand the results he received. When he sent his holographic targ through the transporter network, there was a consistent delay of four seconds, but, with no measurable degradation. Allan initiated a holographic magneton scan on a hunch.

“Allan…” Sami-Jo called one last time. The slight shift in her tone inspired Allan to check the results of the magneton scan in the morning.

[Allan Hood]

Dorvan V
Outside Main Settlement – Starfleet Base Camp

After beaming down to the command post, R’Turan spent an hour walking the perimeter with his tricorder, looking for any fluctuations in the forcefield’s strength. He checked the power levels in the generator and talked to the officers maintaining it, hearing the typical responses, as he hoped.

He talked to those in the dining area about the replicators' food and checked the terminals, himself.

The medical and fire stations were up-to-par, too, as expected.

He did not want to take anything for granted, considering the strategic plans that were about to be put into action. Though he knew he was not alone, he felt the responsibility squarely upon his shoulders: to safeguard the Dorvanians, establish the base camp, and, above all, protect his officers.

For 220 years, Starfleet has conducted exploratory missions, in addition to the occasional battle or war. All of which, has been continued by base camps.

Developing base camps is not anything new for Starfleet. As technology increases, the technological and logistical footprint has increased, making site selection and facility layout, crucial.

The Ares base camp had the privilege of setting the foundation for future units, from other ships, to use the camp after Ares continued on its continuing mission, to support and defend the Dorvanians. Which means, R’turun wanted to make sure that their operations would be sustained through the eventual hand-off, requiring him to oversee the ability to re-supply, in the future, and the establishment of a logistical support structure. He took it personal.

As an additional challenge, the Dorvanians, with their sacred environmental beliefs and standards, sent the Starfleet camp development back hundreds of years, in an effort to decrease the size of Ares footprint on the planet’s surface.

Yet, the base must both protect and keep up with crew morale. The base camp’s design, management and reengineering all took technological steps back to keep with the Dorvanians’s expectations.

If it was not for the Dorvanians desperate situation, there would not be a base camp permitted on the surface at all. Instead, an agreement was made that if their village was to be medically treated, and protected from the Nausicaans, and other raiders, some concessions would have to be made.

With a forcefield perimeter around the base, there was a command post, a makeshift tower defense system, a power generator, a terminal of replicators, an armory, a dining area, medical stations, and a fire station.

In an effort to keep Starfleet’s footprint as small as possible, such things as holodecks, common areas, athletic fields, and running trails were scrapped from the traditional drawing board. Everything that was standing was able to be torn down and beamed away, making as little impact on the environment as visually possible.

[Josh Broughm]

((OOC REPOST))

USS Ares
Somewheres on Deck 7


Sam was on his way to the Diplomatic Complex when he encountered the Captain.
- Hey Cap. Might I ask a favor of you?

The captain sighed heavily and said,
- I'm just on my way to lunch. How did the talks go?

Sam scratched his head, and said,
- Talks went well. After day two, we kinda did a bit of drinking. A suggestion for the future.....Never, EVER binge on bottles of Cannaar if you're willing to pay a HEFTY PRICE in the form of a RIPPER of a hangover.

Terrir laughed a bit, saying,
- I know that feeling too well. What's the favor?

Sam smiled shyly, asking,
- If its not any trouble, might I ask you to officiate my & Akyv's wedding? She wants to live on board wirth me now and we figured that we could do it here on board the ship.

Terrir smiled a bit and said,
- Well, I think I can do that. Might have to brush up a bit.

Sam's face split into a very wide grin.
- Thank you very much, sir!!! Now, I need to figure out rings for us. Got any advice?

The captain thought for a moment and said,
- Try our new operations officer, Mr. Storm. I take it you've seen him around?

Sam nodded a bit.
- He seems to be a bit aloof. Only seen him once or twice. What's up with his right arm?

Terrir frowned slightly.
- Its bionic. Lost it during a skirmish with the Klingons early in his career....very early.

Sam Grimaced heavily.
- Oof. must've been a hell of a fight. I'll talk to him about doing a pair of wedding rings for us.

Terrir nodded and said,
- Very good. You let me know when she wants to jump on & I'll take care of the rest.

Sam smiled, saying,
- Yes sir, I will.

Sam & Terrir both depart each other's company.

END POST

OOC: My next post will be betwix Sam & Max

[WelshAvenger]

Dorvan V
Shuttle Ramses






Christopher watched as the village and surrounding lands gave way to rolling hills and, in the far distance, the mountains of their destination shrouded by clouds. He felt a momentary pang of regret that he had never learned to fly but considered his medical training well worth the trade off. Looking around the cabin of the shuttle he could see that the Chief was stock still, eyes closed and head forward upon his chest, asleep. It was the sign of a true old campaigner, being able to catch sleep whenever you could because you never knew when you’d get sleep again. Kowalski was working a console and humming a tune while Jei looked on. The only person other than him who didn’t seem too preoccupied was Patel.

Christopher made his way forward and sat in the co-pilot’s seat, “How’s she flying?”

Amita Patel glanced across at Christopher, “Don’t distract the pilot or we’ll fall out of the sky.”

Christopher’s face turned pale, “What? I mean . . . what?”

Patel smiled hugely, “Just messing with you Doc. She’s flying like a dream. We should be at the settlement in just under an hour.”

“We don’t seem to be flying very fast.” observed Christopher as he looked at the flight console.

“We’re not,” Patel explained, “Whatever they did to the atmosphere has whipped up some nasty currents, so we’re keeping our speed down and we’re only flying at five thousand feet. Helps keep us nice and smooth.”

Smiling, Christopher replied, “Well, my stomach certainly appreciates the smooth ride.”

Patel nodded in acknowledgement, “Mind if I ask you a question, Doc?”

“You just did but I’ll give you another.”

“You didn’t really chew out the Chief when you were outside the shuttle, did you?” Asked Patel.

Christopher looked at her face and saw a mix of amusement and fear, “Not really.” he explained. “All I did was remind the Chief that Jei and I aren’t really Security experts so to cut us some slack.”

“Ahh, I see, so we’re babysitting you, right?” Patel teased.

Smiling back at her, Christopher, “Not at all. We just asked command for three security personnel that were too scared to stay at the base and face some Nausicaans.”

Patel’s hands flew over her mouth to stifle her laughter, “Better not repeat that when the Chief is awake.”

Christopher held his hands up, “You have a deal.”

A voice rumbled from behind them, “You’ve already lost Doctor, you should know that the Chief hears everything, especially when he’s asleep.”

Patel’s grin grew even larger and she mouthed the word, ‘Busted’, to Christopher.
Turning in his seat, Christopher looked at the Chief and saw the twinkle in the man’s eye. “Come now Chief, surely you must appreciate the age old art of banter. Where would starfleet be without it?”

The Chief nodded sagely, “Sure I appreciate it, but if that’s what you call banter then we’re in a lot more trouble than I thought.”

Kowalski looked up from his console, an enormous grin on his face, “Daaaaaamn Chief!”

Seeing that Kowalski was momentarily distracted, Jei made a quick adjustment to his repair work on the console, then leaned back before he noticed. With her arms folded across her chest, she nodded to Kowalski.

“Hey, look at that. See, told you I was handy with a hyperspanner. You don’t have two kids without learning how to put things together. Like grav-trikes, replica doll houses, or any manner of what the newest ‘in’ toy gizmo is in popularity,” beamed Kowalski. “You realize that every toy has a ‘assembly required’ label on the package. That is code for, dad or mom better know how to use a hyperspanner.”

Jei leaned forward and inspected the work, and gave a nod of approval. “Touché, Kowalski. I’ll give you a pass on that hack job, though Chief Samson would chew you out and then have you inspecting phaser coils by hand for the next two weeks,” informed Jei.

Kowalski closed the console and chuckled. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m in security. I can just be me.”

“I see. And who are you Kowalski?” inquired Jei, sensing that the security petty officer was a friendly sort who liked talking.

Kowalski beamed. “Martin Kowalski at your service. Married, father of two beautiful young daughters, joined Starfleet to get off the farm and see the Galaxy. Along the way, met a wonderful woman in Cartography and well, here I am, on Dorvan V.”

“Farm must have been pretty awful to trade that for this place…” remarked Jei.

“Nah, not really. But it was… sort of… uneventful and monotonous. Not much to do except drink at night or do crazy stupid stuff. No real direction,” replied Kowalski.

“Now that I can understand,” offered Jei.

“Yeah? What about you?” probed Kowalski.

Jei thought for several moments, unsure how to answer. She saw Kowalski glance over at Amita before looking back at Jei. She knew she had to say something, but was a bit off-guard and wasn’t really prepared to talk about herself. “I… um… learned my trade on a freighter from a tellarite. He was a tough but excellent teacher. Got dragged into the war and well, ended up here.” Jei shifted in her seat and wiped her hands on her trousers, subconsciously.

Kowlaski nodded in understanding, but his security skills told him that Jei was holding back. “Oh, that’s interesting. Those long-range space freighters? Those crews are like a family, right?”

Jei nodded. “It’s an extended family but with a strict hierarchy.”

“I bet they miss you then, with you serving in Starfleet. I had a friend in basic that grew-up on a freighter. He always talked about it,” explained Kowlaski.

Jei looked off and spaced out, unable to not think about Tavo and the others aboard the JOSEPHINE. They were all dead. Jei the only survivor. “Not anymore,” simply replied Jei, as she looked away.

Christopher looked over at Jei, hearing the tone of her voice. Something told him that there were painful memories in there somewhere so he decided to change the subject. “Did you say that you have kids, Martin?”

Kowalski grinned at Christopher, “Sure did, Doc. Two of them.”

“Good for you,” Christopher replied, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Patel was waving her hand across her throat trying to stop him asking any more, “how old are they?” Christopher shrugged an apology to Patel.

Jei tried to not think of her own daughter, to her dismay she only remembered her daughters name but couldn’t see a face. ~Probably for the best… as I’m not fit to be a mother.~

“Four and eight and they’re a real handful.” all three security officers chorused at the same time.

Christopher couldn’t help laughing. Even the Chief had a smile on his face. Kowalski’s grin seemed to stretch from ear to ear and Patel’s smile seemed to illuminate her console. Christopher smiled at Jei and started to stand up to go to the replicator at the back of the shuttle. It was at this moment that the explosion tore through the rear bulkhead.

[Blaster]

Dorvan V
Main Base Camp.

The sound of a transporter is heard, followed by a lone starfleet Lieutenant materialising in front of the camp.

Well... this place looks a lot better then expected.

Tess took a long look around the area she was in, spotting what looked like an armoury, and a tactics room.

She saw a Security Officer running up to her, mostly likely noticing she was new.

"Errr.... can I get your rank and position, Ma'am" the security officer asked.

"Lieutenant Tess, Fighter Squadron Commander, newly assigned from the U.S.S Homeland" she replied.

"Hmmm let me see, yep, your there." the officer said, " I advise you look around the camp first."

"Okay. Will do, thats all officer" she said.

"Yes Ma'am." the Security officer gave a smart salute then walked off.

Tess started walking around, checking out what looked like living areas, command stations and weapon bays. Then she noticed a shuttle pad.

Hmm. This might not be so bad after all, Tess thought to herself. She noticed a couple of Type 11 and Type 9 shuttle craft, as well as one Delta Flyer and a few worker bees.

Can't wait to check these things out. But I should go see if the Commander or Captain is around.

((TAG: R'Turan))

((OOC: I am sorry if anything is wrong or out of place, first time doing this))