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Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #25 –
[ Deacon | Day 5 | Observation Pen | Precept-Ship Versant | 2100hrs ] Attn: @SummerDawn and others present

He could feel the emotions of those around him, gathering close, growing stronger with every encroaching inch until they threatened to crowd out his own feelings, to crush him under a tidal flow of rage, fear, sorrow, isolation.  And then, with a snap, the sensation fell away again, without rhythm, without cadence.  He couldn't predict the ebb and flow of his own mind, and he was already so angry, so embittered that he could no longer tell what came from without and what from within, as if each passing moment of empathic awareness was little more than an echo chamber projecting back at him.

A touch on his shoulder drew his attention, a deep sense of dread and shame welling up from the depths of his stomach.  No matter what, he'd prided himself on his control, his assurance that he could single handedly face anything with unflinching confidence.  But that was then, that was before.  Now... now he could scarcely lift his head.  To be seen as he was, mutilated as he was, a wreck in both thought and feeling, his pride could handle only so much insult.

Again, the spark ignited, and again the tidal wave of emotions crashed into him, but there was something new.  The touch was sad, confused, but there was a strength, a feeling of concern... love.  "Deacon?"

Slowly he lifted his head, his clenched fingers withdrawing from the sides, no longer attempting to plunge into the depths of his mind to tear the thoughts from his skull.  His eyes, once gold, now half-tinged with blue, met K'Ren's features, tears still streaming down his all too human face, becoming caught in the line of stubble along his jaw.  If not for the curious coloration of his eyes, the slight tip to his ears, the fang-like incisors, faint subdermal striping and the long tail that still hung from the base of his spine, he might otherwise pass as an Earth native... so very little of the kzin remained.

Trembling, he ran his hand along K'Ren's face before he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face against her chest.  "I.. I can't control..." he tried to explain, "can't focus.  Too many feelings, too many, too close.  Can't shut them out, then nothing, then everything."  The silence came once more, allowing him to look up.  "I don't want to lose you..."
 

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #26 –
[ Echtand qi Versant | The Voice's Residential Quarters | Precept-ship Versant ]
[Show/Hide]
By the time all the specimens had been allocated to the Observation Pen, it was stated in the Code that the Voice of the Savi were to address them. It was, however, not customary that the Savi with that position on a Precept ship had to fulfil such a task, but given the present circumstances, where the ship's propulsion systems had yet to be repaired and the specimens couldn't be released, it was Echtand's allotted duty - as the Voice - to assist the Correction Program.

Therefore, he had pulled up the old transcript on his tablet, read it once to memorise it, and then activated the holographic camera on his tablet. Even if he was standing in his spacious office, his upper body and head was projected as a holographic image that spanned from the deck to the deckhead in the Observation Pen. He was confident his large image in the Pen would serve to catch the attention of all specimens that had been gathered there, but if not, his amplified voice would be heard reverberating in the bulkheads. He had, of course, also activated the translator.

"My name is Echtand qi Versant, and I am the Voice of the Savi," he said, and even if his tone was quiet, it would be heard loudly across the whole area, "You have been gathered where you are in wait for Memory Correction. It is the last stage of Correction before release. At any point, those that still need further Correction will eventually be removed from this area to complete the biological part of the process. In the interest of keeping you healthy, you will no longer be kept in containment. Instead, you will spend your remaining time in our care in this area. To provide for your needs, and stimulate your senses, you will be kept in a holographic program that should be a known environment for you all. For the duration of the program's runtime, any food or drink you ingest will have nutritional value, but you will not be able to cause harm or hurt yourself with the use of the program's parameters."

Echtand raised a finger to the datapad in his hand, tapped it, and made the entire Observation Pen turn into a holographic representation of a Sovreign-class shuttle bay. It was complete with crew, sounds, smells and as real as if they had suddenly been transported unto a Federation ship. Echtand was confident that the specimens would feel more at home on a starship, so even if the chosen ship was no longer in service, it ought to be adequate for them. The Savi working in Correction had, after all, created the program from the data foraged from other ships, down to every little detail. Echtand was no fool. of course, knowing they might have gotten some thing wrong, but it would serve as a temporary containment solution for the Corrected crewmembers of the Theurgy and the Endeavour.

"Preserve your health with rest, by eating and getting exercise for your new bodies. Conform to the duties allotted to you in the program, and integrate with the holographic crew. Please bear in mind, however, that if you do not conform to your new confinement," said Echtand, still projected inside the shuttle bay, "you will be deemed a threat to yourself and other specimens, and you will be Recycled." Having said this, he terminated his feed, thinking - just for a moment - that the transcript hadn't even taken into account that the crew might pose a threat to the Versant, but then again, how could they? No foraged specimens had ever managed to escape from their pens or cells.

As he put his tablet aside, he found himself thinking about his parents again. Why did they linger in his mind? Was it because the High Council was about to convene, and likely authorise Semathal's request to deviate from the Code? There were only Scions in the High Council now, and Echtand couldn't see why they would deny the request to Recycle all specimens in the biolabs and the Correction Program. Was it because he had just spoken to those very specimens, knowing that they might spend their last day in that holographic program? Did he really feel that strongly about the Code, and carrying on the work of the Progenitors? Or was it something else?

The image that kept returning to him... was the sight of the Aspect Maker in the Scion's Nest. In female form, it had looked at him from out of its quantum stasis field, savaged and bloodied by Semathal, and in its eyes...

In its eyes, Echtand saw the look of his mother before she was led to the biolabs. He could even see it in his father, bruised and bloodied as he'd been when he tried to resist. Before they gave him that look, they had called his name... and he'd been too young, to indoctrinated by the Code to answer, hiding behind his Decataria. That was why. That was why the Code mattered. It lent conformity, strength, and resolve. With the Code's support, he was better than his parents. He was free. Respected. Or...

...was it just that he felt safe?

Was this the source of his doubt? Echtand wanted to reject the hypothesis, but he couldn't. He hissed as he paced his office, his capacious mind making him ask questions best unsaid. Stop it. There are no findings to be made. Nothing of merit! Yet if the Code could be infringed upon, even if it was older than the Scion Directive, would he still be safe?


[ USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E | Shuttle Bay | Deck 03 | Stardate 55606.41 ]

"Over here, over here," called Chief O'Brien, waving for the newly arrived crew to come over. He was standing with the Quartermaster and others in Operations, ready to help the newcomers to settle in. There was a long table set up, with bundles of replicated uniforms to collect.

"Come now, don't be shy. I have heard you've had a rough ride, but now you are here," he continued to call, starting to deal out the bundles to the people before them, "To learn where your quarters are at, check your PADDs. Petty Officer Benson have those, and you can collected them from him. Come now, it's time to settle in and report to duty."

Outside the bay doors, the Azure Nebula could no longer be seen, but a pitch black vista of space, dotted with lonesome stars.

OOC: Here we go! I decided not to wait for the stragglers. Any who have yet to post in the Pen can catch up.

Mission Objectives:
 - Explore the Enterprise and its characters as much as you like
 - Bonding between the Theurgy and Endeavour crewmembers
 - Work with the other Abductees to make plans for an escape (or not)
 - Provoke the Savi (or not)
 - Find a way to make contact with Blue Tiran or the other specimens in the biolabs

Click to see a list of holographic crew to interact with on the Enterprise-E, depicted in January of 2379 (SD 55606.41), before the events of Nemesis: [Show/Hide]

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #27 –
[Lt R'Rori | Day 5 | Observation Pen | Precept-Ship Versant | 2100hrs ] @SummerDawn @steelphoenix & co.

R’Rori stood patiently as quite a few of the others introduced themselves, nodding in understanding. The Chief Tactical Officer had made it. Good. He would be invaluable in coordinating any resistance or escape efforts by the crew. Thought s/he privately hoped it wouldn’t get to that, as resistance meant near certain death, the counselor knew the crew too well to put aside the very real possibility that they would seek their own escape before the memory wipe. It would be ideal if such things were led by people trained and well-placed within the Starfleet hierarchy for it.

“It is good to see you too, Lieutenant Cross. I’m glad that more of us made it here than I hoped.”

It was hard to hide hir smile as the Klingon announced his presence. The Klingons were a boisterous people and this one was apparently no exception to that rule. It was notable to hir, however, that he was not a member of the Endeavour and s/he quickly noticed when two others beamed in with similarly feline features to hirs – one clearly a fully transitioned Caitian and one that looked like a humanoid mix interestingly similar to hir state. Had they run into another felinoid hybrid to change to human? The figure slumped against the wall, his face clearly showing something was wrong with him.

S/he moved quickly to him, moving around the naked man that beamed in after the female Caitian found him first. R’Rori made sure to move deliberately and predictably as s/he got closer, not wanting to spook either of them. Hir training had reinforced this when dealing with unknown people in a possible mental health crisis and then wrapped it all up neatly with an admonition to use their best judgement. Hir ears picked up most of what the one in crisis said in response and hir mind zeroed in on one phrase in particular.

“too many feelings, too many, too close” … An empath then.

Empaths and telepaths were part of hir clientele, naturally. It wouldn’t be hir first rodeo with one, but the feline feature s/he could see on him were not of any Federation species or culture s/he could remember. He was clearly not a touch empath, given his statement. S/he ran through everything in hir head. Apparently, the Caitian knew him and had some sort of prior relationship. That was good. It could be useful here.

R’Rori walked closer until s/he was nearly next to the Caitian woman, taking a long moment to clear hir mind and force it to be calm and steady. Hir mental state needed to be stable enough for him to grasp. Hello, I’m R’Rori, one of the counselors from the Endeavour. If I may?”

S/he held hir hands out for the empath, both to show s/he was unarmed and for him to grab if he chose to. Hir posture was kept deliberately nonthreatening without showing fear or distress. It was a fine line to walk and s/he could only hope s/he was getting it right. Some were touch-repulsed while others felt it necessary or more comforting.

“If you can, focus on me and on my emotions. Remember who you are, what you are. It’ll be okay. You’re safe with us.”

The counselor glanced over at the woman next to hir. “Do you know him?”

S/he deliberately ignored the changing scenery around hir as the holographic environment changed, though hir ears did flicker momentarily at the sound of a man speaking loudly to the crowd. Apparently, their captors had finally deigned to give them something to do. A Federation ship was probably their wisest choice, being familiar to the members of Starfleet they had kidnapped and forcibly changed. The crowd was big enough at this time to allow R'Rori at least a few moments to calm down the other not-quite-human cat.

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #28 –
[Ensign Okhala | Day 5| Observation Pen | Precept-ship Versant | 2100hrs ] Attn: @Fife @patches @Auctor Lucan

As the familiar but drug hazed feeling of being transported hit her Laurel groaned. Since her escape attempt the first day of being fully Romulan, the Savi had kept her heavily sedated. If she concentrated hard enough she could remember the encounter.

[Flashback]
Cold and angry to an extent she had never before felt, coupled with the despair at knowing that the monsters behind it were also lead to Egon being recycled, had left her new emotional heights that lead to her singleminded attempt to murder every grey hostile she could find. Her mind and paranoia had allowed her to find the only access port to the room. The hatch in the ceiling that had allowed for her food and medication. Using the slab of a table meant for a bed and her new Romulan strength, it had taken very little for Laurel to get the panel open. She had not counted on the alarm blaring to life in her cell however.

She had wondered, vaguely, at the time, if she had still been suffering from the concussion, or if the headache had been brought on by her newly enhanced senses. Regardless, the new shrieking sound had sent her to her knees as surely as if they had punched her. Her ears rang and she was sure that they had to have bled by the time sound stopped.

They left her like that, after informing her that such an attempt in the future would be met with hash punishment. She figured they meant that she would be recycled. Honestly, if it meant the world would be quiet and not so bright and not so cold, she might consider it a blessing.

Relief had come in the form of the day/night cycle the Savi seemed to offer her, the lights dimmed and she could finally open her eyes without her head screaming at her to keep them shut. The pounding in her head finally, for the first time since the Borg had attacked them, was blissfully alone with her thoughts, unaccompanied by the drums in her temples. Just as she was finally able to gain control of her thoughts and feelings however, she noticed the hatch she had ripped open earlier, repairing itself and extending a rather wicked looking hypospray. Fear caused her stomach to clench unpleasantly and she tried to back away from the equipment, despite knowing that there was no where to run.

Remembering some long forgotten tidbit of imparted knowledge, she managed to slip the devices first jab at her and get the chord wrapped around her arm to control its movements, so focussed on the immediate danger however, she missed a second device entering the space and stabbing her while her attention was elsewhere.

Her strength had fled her, and she was barely aware as she was transported to some lab elsewhere aboard the accursed ship. Her mind floated and her impotent emotions ran wild as her body refused to respond.

[End Flashback]

She had been constantly under the effects since, if she ever had a hint of coming out of it, they put her under again. She was vaguely aware of a feeding tube being inserted at some point, when it became obvious to her captors that she was not lucid enough to eat on her own. She communicated mostly in grunts and cries and growled Romulan phrases, she thinks she remembers her father getting scolded for using when she was small.

She could scarcely protest when they inform her she is being moved again, and made no move to get up when she was moved to another room. Laurel, though the most lucid she had been in days, had lost some of her fight over the last ages she had been drugged. She hadn't had contact with any of the other crew from the escape pod, if they were even alive, and it was becoming painfully obvious, that she would not be able to escape on her own. She was aware of other people around her just based on the increase of noise, she had learned over her time under sedation, that it was best to allow her eyes to adjust slowly, unless the Savi made her open them sooner. The pain was less that way and it kept her mind, just that little bit more focussed.

Gradually, she recognized that she heard people speaking Federation Standard, not just the Savi's weird translated form but real Standard, and her eyes snapped open in surprise. It hurt but the adrenaline rush of possible allies allowed her the clarity to push through it. She was on a holodeck? With humans and . . . was that a Vulcan?

Paranoia swamped her like an old friend, this had to be a trick. It was a simulation, meant to set her at ease, give her hope. She wouldn't fall for it. She was the daughter of a member of Starfleet Intelligence and former Tal Shiar operative, if they thought this little trick was going to be better than sedating her they were wrong. She could feel that wave of rage, which had been kept at bay by drugs, burning off the effects of those same drugs as she stood and backed herself to a wall and dropped into a defensive stance.

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #29 –
[ K'Ren | Day 5 | Observation Pen | Precept-Ship Versant | 2100hrs ] Attn: @patches @steelphoenix @patches @anyone
[Show/Hide]

It only took her a moment to realize it was him, her Deacon, the scent, the voice, was right even if the man pulling close to her was human, human except for the vestigal remains of his K'Zin half. She held him close, letting him bury his head and face into her fur, held him close almost as a mother might a frightened cub. Gently stroking his now hair covered head, she gently caressed the scruff of his neck, hoping the one thing she knew could calm him would actually work in this form. "I'm here Deacon, I'm not leaving." she whispered in his ear.

She glanced up mere moments later to see another human, apparently suffering a similar fate as Deacon, her feline heritage stripped from her, at least the ears and tail seemed to suggest this. The fur rose on the back of her neck at first as the unidentified female feline approached. Unsure what species they might be, and what they might desire with him, her muscles tensed, ready to fend her off. It was only as the women approached in a non-threnetening way calling herself R'Rori, definitely Caitian by the name, identified herself as a counselor. "He is my mate R'Rori," She nuzzled Deacon a little, hoping to comfort him. "My K'Zintosh."

It was only as she turned her attention back to R'Rori, that she noticed the surroundings had changed, become somewhat familiar, at least in that they looked more like a Starfleet vessel, though this was an illusion, another way to pen them up until the Savi finished wiping her memories, removing any trace of her life before now. But that was the world around her, more immediately her focus was on her mate. "My K'Zintosh and sire of my cubs until they took even that small comfort from me."

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #30 –
[ Deacon | Day 5 | Observation Pen | Precept-Ship Versant | 2100hrs ] Attn: @SummerDawn @patches

Held in K'Ren's arms, she could feel his body relax as she kneaded the bundle of muscles at the base of his neck, and while they were considerably less flexible than they had been before his 'correction', he seemed to respond, either by conditioning or act of will, to her touch.  As the second female approached, he withdrew slightly, wary of another so close, although entwined as he was with his mate, the momentary flashes that bled through were defensive, protective, caring.

He looked up at the new comer -- R'Rori she said her name was -- asking him to focus only on her and her emotions.  Concern?  It was hard to tell.  His mind and senses felt upside down.  Everything he knew to keep his thoughts to himself, everything he'd taught himself to differentiate his feelings from those around him was as effective as tissue before the storm.  Feelings in the pen were raw, and taxing as it may have been, he could have stood his grounds against them, the constant onslaught countered by unwavering diligence -- a bolstering of his own emotional state that could barricade the door to his mind.  But whatever process these creatures had used to change his body has partially severed that emotional awareness, and with no consistent emotional feed, his defenses faltered, unable to anticipate the seemingly chaotic onslaught.

Focus on her?  He wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and rest, to have uninterrupted silence in his head, the ability to hear his own thoughts.  His only way to cope... to figure things out... to be in control... He hated this place.  He hated himself... this naked monkey flesh and how weak it had made him. 

The two spoke around him, even as the very pen seemed to shift and change, taking a new holographic design.  He wanted nothing to do with any of it.

"My K'Zintosh and sire of my cubs until they took even that small comfort from me."

Deacon seized, his every muscle tensing.  The rage had returned.  They had violated his mate.  And he had been wallowing in self-pity, weakness.  He raised his head, unsure if what he felt was his own fury or the combination of those around him... it no longer mattered.  Baring his fangs, he flexed his fingers as if to unsheathe phantom claws.  "Kill them..." he said, his voice a scarcely audible growl, "I'm going to kill them all..."

Vague images of the grey skinned creatures choking on their own blood played across his chaotic mindscape, a nightmare canvas where he painted the walls of the ship in their viscera, carving a path of destruction, a testament of his love, his fury.  A reinforcement of the proper order of hunter and prey.  He would write a new gospel of the Fanged God that would make these creatures think twice before ever setting sights on the kzinti again.

He rose, unsteady, his visage dark with murderous intent, limbs taught and ready to strike, eyes searching for a viable target.  He could taste blood now, salty, draining across his lips, but it wasn't the sickly grey green he imagined would flow their captors... it was a deep crimson color.  Lifting his fingers, to his mouth, he wiped at the flow of blood that was now falling from his nose, feeling light headed, his single heart unable to maintain the rage, his body betraying his desire, causing him to collapse to his knees, head lowered.  "I ... don't feel well..."

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #31 –
[ Lt. Cross | Day 5 | Observation Pen/USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E | Shuttle Bay ] @Auctor Lucan @YasyraTrill @patches @steelphoenix @SummerDawn @Brutus @Hastata-Nerada Anyone Else

So the room was a holodeck… Cross thought as he looked around the newly materialized shuttle bay. The holographic torso and head of the “Voice of the Savi” had said they would be here for the remainder of their time in the Savi’s “care”. And they were expected to play along with the holoprogram. Cross could have laughed. Or spit. The Savi’s “care” seemed no better than the “tender ministrations” he’d received from the Cardassians years ago. The thought raised goosebumps on Cross’ skin. Or it could be the cold air in the room. Anger at the Savi’s arrogance threatened to overpower Cross’ already wavering control, and Cross had to concentrate to unclench his jaw and stop himself from lashing out. He took a deep breath and forced his concentration back to their current situation.

Cross had seen more occupants get beamed in before the holodeck had been activated. Now, rather than being barely covered test subjects in an observation pen, they were barely covered test subjects in a holographic shuttle bay. Lt. R’Rori had made her was towards a pair of new arrivals that Cross didn’t recognize. One appeared to be fully Caitian, while the other appeared to be in the same state of transition that R’Rori was. There was a Klingon who had introduced himself as Khorin, and a human who had materialized mid-curse. A Romulan had beamed in and was now against the wall looking like she thought she would be attacked at any moment. The Romulan looked vaguely familiar to Cross, and then it clicked.

Ensign Okhala? Cross thought he could see the Ensign’s features through the alterations. Like himself, there was not a huge difference between their hybrid selves and their “corrected” selves. Not physically at least. Cross wondered if Ensign Okhala was having the same emotional battle that Cross himself was fighting in his own head.

“PO, go grab uniform bundles from the holograms.” Cross said as he turned to face PO Narelle, “Get yourself dressed and bring two uniforms over. I’m going to go talk to our Romulan friend.” Once Narelle had acknowledged the orders and moved off towards the Quartermaster’s table, Cross turned and approached the Romulan. He kept his movements slow and non-threatening, making sure not to provoke the obviously defensive Romulan woman.

“Ensign Okhala?” Cross asked as he got closer, stopping a few meters away. Now that he was closer he could see the familiar features of the CONN officer in the corrected Romulan in front of him. “Easy, Ensign. It’s Lieutenant Cross. Lieutenant R’Rori is here too. Have you seen any of the others?” PO Narelle approached still wearing her gown and carrying three uniforms. She handed Cross two of the uniform bundles and moved back several paces to change into her own uniform.

“Here Ensign,” Cross said, tossing one of the uniforms at Okhala’s feet, still not quite trusting the defensive stance she held herself in. “If you’re as cold as I feel, you’ll want this.”

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #32 –
[ Lt. JG Hi'Jak |  Day 5| Observation Pen | Precept-ship Versant | 2100hrs ] Attn: @SummerDawn  @steelphoenix

Whelp, Jack could safely say he wasn't in the Federation, a few moments to half an hour ago or so he remembered being dick deep in an alien that he couldn't see at the moment, but that wasn't exactly why he knew he wasn't home. Right now he was standing in a shuttlebay, on a Federation ship clearly missing an eye and an arm, and while his mind was still a little hazy with whatever sexual drugs they had pumped into him, which oh man had that been a cathartic rush.

He was currently not being rushed to sickbay. Or being arrested, honestly at this point both would have worked.

"Funny, I've seen holographs of this ship before. Heck I even commanded a Sovergn in one of the tactical simulations I did at the academy, if I had to pick a ship to command this class would have been top of my list." He said with a faint whistle.

Jack walked around for a moment. His garments had been discarded when he had been involved with... oh man he was sure that other creature had a name, but honestly he could not for the life of him remember it aside from the way it had felt. He was pretty sure that the thing had used male pronouns, but it had felt like a females body. Probably he thought, another one of the Savi experiments.

He picked up a uniform and started to dress, ditching the underwear, at this point it was just what he had gotten used too for the last few days, but still having clothing on felt better, though it was awkward trying to dress himself with just one arm.

Catching up with the others he was still a little light headed, so when someone referred to a human as deacon, Jack turned his good eye towards the man. "Wait, Deacon? As in my favorite bar tender?"

He looked around for a moment. "Got any dark rum, I could use a barrel full at the moment." Jack spoke, but his voice, and most of his other features had been changed, with his light blond hair rather than dark, his blue eyes shifted green like his mothers, he was a bit more pale, a bit more haggered, and of course the biggest difference of all, the lack of ridges along his forehead. He looked at the cat girl. "I don't think we have ever meet, I'm Jack."

[Show/Hide]

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #33 –
[Ensign Okhala | Day 5 | Observation Pen/USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E | Shuttle Bay] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Fife @patches @steelphoenix @SummerDawn @Brutus @Hastata-Nerada and anyone else I missed :/

Laurel startled a little when the surroundings changed again after some Savi bullshit explanation, that her hypersensitive hearing was having a hard time deciphering through the haze of drugs and anger. It looked like a Federation ship, it smelled, sounded and felt like a Federation ship, but it wasn't. A part of her mind recognized that backing herself into a corner was not the best move, but the idea that someone might sneak up behind her was worse. Not that a wall, especially a fake wall, would help her much against the Savi,  a flash of memory of when they showed her footage of Egon in an attempt to break her. She snapped that part of her brain closed. She could not process that now. That was for later when she was safe . . . or dead.

Desperate for a distraction she glanced around and took notice that some of the "people" were dressed like her, half naked in medical gowns and some were in uniform. One of the "men" in a gown approached her. It took her a minute to understand what he was saying . . .he was Vulcan. He said he was . . . Cross? They had altered him.

She fought her emotional need to feel relief, if he was real . . . But it was a trick, she couldn't let them trick her like this. He was talking to her, asking her questions. Her sluggish mind railed at its inability to keep up. He threw a wad of material at her feet. He said something about being cold. She was. She hadn't been warm since they corrected her . . . it wouldn't be so bad to accept this one kindness would it? She knelt not taking her eyes off of Cross or the new crew member that had approached them. Quickly snatching the clothing before it was taken from her.

Swiftly and as efficiently as she could, she slid the uniform on underneath and over the gown. A technique her sister had taught her when she was starting gym class in high school. Covered for the first time in she didn't know how long, she allowed the added warmth to sink into her stiff joints and muscles. For the first time she noticed the track marks on her arm from where they had injected the cocktail of sedatives over however long she had been out of it. The rage tried to surge again as she ran one hand over the opposite arm. She looked like a junkie. Once she had pulled the gown off, she tossed it to the ground as if it had personally offended her. As more of her senses returned she was able to take notice of the niggling gagging feeling from her nose and throat. The feeding tube. Laurel could feel hot angry tears spring into her eyes as she reached up, with shaking hands and gripped the end of the tube. She gagged and retched as she tugged the tube up and out her nose and throat both feeling raw and irritated once it was done.

After the need to vomit passed, Laurel realized that she had taken her eyes off of the potential enemies and shot her eyes back up to observe the potential hostiles. She wasn't sure what the Savi were trying to accomplish with this test . . . they had been there before the simulation started hadn't they? Did that mean that Cross was real? Her mind struggled to through off the rest of the drugs. She couldn't think straight, what if he was real? A frustrated growl made it past her clenched teeth. "Are you real?" Talking hurt her newly tube-free throat was scratchy and it felt like she had eaten a whole bowl of spicy curry and attempted to gargle with it. A hand twitched to reach up and soothe. She put a halt to it, no revealing weaknesses until she was sure they were real. Nothing the Savi could use as information to control her.





Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #34 –
[ Lt (jg) Sarresh Morali | Observation Pen/USS Enterprise NCC 1701-E | Main Research Hull | Precept-ship Versant ] Attn:
[Show/Hide]

Looking around, Sarresh's dark, human eyes told him nothing about the environment - ambient temperature and such - nor anything about the people he'd been lobbed in with. No heart rate, nor blood pressure, species, or sex.  He did discern that he had no clothes and almost no one else was properly covered. And then the whole room changed, assaulting his senses as the familiarity of a Federation Starship seemed to blot out the alien nature of the Savi. Save for the talking head, warning them to behave and participate in the simulation, or be recycled.

An involuntary shudder passed over Sarresh as he recalled the fate of the poor individual in the pod across from his when he first beamed in. "Damn them all to hell, I don't have time for this bullshit." He muttered the words, but they were half hearted. Sarresh wasn't about to get himself flushed down the drain.

Putting aside his disdain for the moment, Sarresh bent and dusted off his knees. He didn't care if anyone was going to sneak a peek at what was on display. But it was damned cold in the room. Scowling about, he looked to the left and right, trying to see a familiar face - and failing. It dawned on him that his inability to socialized was going to leave him with almost no real connections in life. He had Sel though. That was more than he though he'd have after Theta Endarni IV. The trick was to get back to her, and the Theurgy and then, oh, say, deal with the damned snakes in the grass that was Starfleet Command.

Easy enough he thought as he strode past a man with one arm and one eye, who claimed to be called Jack, and a few furry faced folk he barely recognized, and made his way over to the table with the uniforms. He crossed his arms and looked at the hologram. Something about the 'man's' face looked strikingly familiar.

"Miles O'Brien." He didn't know how he knew the name, just that he knew it. And that told him all he needed to know, come to think of it. A frown passed over Sarresh' face. Now you start to work you little piece of shit? he thought to himself, or more accurately, to the Memory Engram encoding that had been performed. Some nugget of recognition from a file read far in the future had trickled down onto his brain. But O'Brien had been assigned to some Starbase...,and then later....Cardassia, hadn't he? Or something like that.

He shook his head again, more confused then he had been before. It certainly didn't help that the hologram seemed to hear him use its name, and turn to him, quizzically.

OOC: Possible tag to anyone that wants to NPC O'Brien. Or anyone that happened to hear Sarresh say it. Not sure where exactly this will lead.

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #35 –
[ Lt. Cross | Day 5 | Observation Pen/USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E | Shuttle Bay ] @Auctor Lucan @YasyraTrill @patches @steelphoenix @SummerDawn @Hastata-Nerada @Brutus Anyone else...

Cross had retrieved the pants out from his own clothing bundle and dropped the rest on the deck of the shuttle bay. He donned the pants as Ensign Okhala got dressed in her own uniform, making sure not to look at the Ensign as she dressed. Cross tossed aside his own medical gown and bent to pick up the standard issue shirt and jacket, noticing that the Savi hadn’t removed the numerous scars that criss-cross his torso when they corrected him. Cross pulled on the shirt and shrugged into the uniform jacket, then turned back to Ensign Okhala in time to see her looking at something on her arms. Then he saw the track marks.

“<Fucking shit>, what did they do to you Okhala?” Cross asked, taking a tentative step towards the Ensign as she reached up and grabbed her face. No, she was grabbing at her nose, at a tube that was protruding from one of her nostrils. Ensign Okhala gagged and retched as she pulled out her feeding tube. Cross winced, knowing the feeling of the tube in his own throat when he had been in the pod.

I didn’t have to pull the <fucking> thing out though… Cross thought as Ensign Okhala finally spoke. Her voice sounded ragged, most likely from the trauma of removing the tube, but it was the words she spoke that gave Cross pause.

Are your real?

Ensign Okhala’s question caught him off guard. He thought he’d been having a rough time under the Savi’s “care”, but it seemed Okhala had been having a much rougher go of it. The fact that the Savi had violated and changed them was bad enough. That they had tortured and tormented one of his crewmates to the point where she wasn’t sure what was real…

His jaw clenched and he took a deep breath, trying to suppress the rage he felt towards their “caretakers”. Cross took several more deep breaths and concentrated, trying to force the anger down, desperately trying to push it away. For a few moments the anger threatened to overwhelm him, but then he finally felt the roiling hatred subside. Having pushed the anger back down to a manageable level, he looked at Okhala again.

“I’m real, Ensign.” Cross said, taking another slow step towards the Romulan woman. He held his hands up at waist height with palms open and facing Okhala, trying to remain as non-threatening as possible so as not to provoke the defensive Ensign. He was only about 2 meters away from her now. “If you need proof, ask me something these Savi <fuckers> wouldn’t know.” Cross thought quickly, racking his brain for something to convince her he wasn’t a Savi hologram. “We were on an away mission a while ago. A survey mission back in January. Ask me something about that. Something only the real Cross would know.”

Cross waited for Ensign Okhala to come up with a question, aware that if she really didn’t know what was real, she might lash out at him without warning. He hoped he could get through to her. They needed to rally everyone together if they were going to find a way out of this before the Savi wiped their memories.

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #36 –
[Lt R'Rori | Day 5 | Observation Pen | Precept-Ship Versant / USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E | Shuttle Bay ] @steelphoenix @SummerDawn @Auctor Lucan @Masorin

R’Rori watched in concern as the pair in front of hir interacted. The Caitian had been defensive initially, which s/he understood, but the words K’Ren stated next were alarming not only for their content but for their effects. It seemed the horrors their captors could visit on them were truly not limited.

To have a pregnancy terminated just like that without even knowing it was there…

This was definitely not the best time for K’Ren to have mentioned it, although she was clearly and justifiably very affected by it. R’Rori was in crisis handling mode now, the same thought processes and habits that got hir through the Borg attack somehow. From that same experience, s/he would later have to confront the emotional toll of those words and that was a realization s/he consciously shunted to the side for now. Right now, someone needed hir help.

A quick look around in response to movements brought to mind a correction: Several people likely needed care right now due to the changes forced upon all of them. And mine are only nearly done. What more might they do to me? To us?

Deacon moved and caught hir attention once more. S/he watched as he stood and gasped as s/he saw him collapse following a nosebleed. R’Rori stood up straight quickly in response, closing hir eyes for just a moment as hir body swayed from the sudden movement. S/he moved first to run to the holographic Chief that greeted them when someone approached the group of cats, talking about rum.

"I don't think we have ever meet, I'm Jack." The human said as R’Rori looked back at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Er, hi Jack. I’m R’Rori, USS Endeavour.” S/he responded before raising one finger. “You’re … missing an arm. Huh. One moment, though.”

S/he turned to face the table with the holographic crew next to it, grabbing a uniform bundle for hirself almost absentmindedly as s/he waved to get O’Brien’s attention. “Hello, I’m Lieutenant R’Rori. Chief, I’ve got a patient with a nosebleed. I need to get him to a bed away from this crowd so he can relax and we can take a look at him. There’s a Caitian with him and the two are a bonded pair, so she should come too. Can you help?”

While listening for his response and hoping that this wouldn’t trigger some sort of response from the aliens that held them all prisoner, R’Rori took this opportunity to take off the hospital gown and change into the uniform they were all being given. It looked like a generic Starfleet uniform, at least at first glance, and it fit well enough. After the change, s/he grabbed another pair of uniform bundles and rushed back to the felinoid pair, offering them both to K’Ren.

“If this simulation is anywhere near true to life, they’ll send medics here to take us to Sickbay. We should stay together, but he needs to be isolated from this crowd somehow. Change into this as soon as you can, and the other will be for him when he’s stabilized.”

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #37 –
Khorin, son of Margon, of House Mo'Kai | Day 5 | Observation Pen | Precept-Ship Versant/ USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E | Shuttle Bay ]
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Att:  @steelphoenix  @SummerDawn  @Auctor Lucan  @Masorin @patches  @YasyraTrill @Fife @Brutus @Anyone else!

When the figure of his captor faded out and the room around him showed up completly change, Khorin allowed himself a saw-like smile. A holodeck. Holodecks were the favorite recreational room in the Starfleet, but they were also infamous for their ability to fail randomly and the unpredictable results of some of their programs. The young pilot remembered studying some of the reports in the Academy: holograms that became self-aware, weapons that did real damage in a fight against the Borg, simulations inside simulations... the possibilities were so many, so different that it was easier to start looking where were the limits that his captors had placed on this farce that thought about what he could do. Yeah, they had said they couldn't harm themselves or others but... could they damage the bulkplates enough to open an exit? Could they find the door of their cage?

The klingon chuckled thunderingly as he made his way to the table with the replicated uniforms. He headed for the human (O'Brien? Yeah, something like that) And gave him the best of his new smiles. “Chief, a security uniform ... please." He roared as he reached out to receive the golden shirt. If the simulation was from where and when he believed, it wouldn't be weird to see a Klingon in security on that starship ... or entering the armory.

Khorin discarded the medical gown he had worn and stuffed himself on the new uniform more calmly than he needed. He needed allies, even if he was able to get out of there by his own means he had a whole Savi ship to face, maybe that was song fuel but it wasn't very practical for get out alive. And for better or for worse, victory was the most honorable deed. And you rarely could claim victory by dying, no matter how epically. Near where he was there was a group of people with feline features, he thought he could distinguish among them some of the crew of the Theurgy, but he wasn't sure. In any case they seemed in the middle of a crisis and didn't need ballast at that moment. In another group there were a couple of crewmen with vulcanoid traits, one of them could even be a romulan woman. Ah, those veQ were tough and paranoid, both excelent traits that could made her useful. And of course strong enough to be considered a mediocre adversary. He mentally noted down their faces as he put on his shoes: he would come back for them later, to test the water. But for now on, he needed to see if he could get his way to the armory.

Khorin stretched to his full height and headed towards the exit of the shuttle bay. He didn't ask directions, he knew more or less where he should go. Yeah, to the Qovpatlh armory. He needed to see how realistic that simulation was. Then he would check where those Hu'tegh Savi had set the limit before considering someone behavior "disruptive”. He smiled again, fiercely showing his new and sharp teeth, enjoying the power of his new full body. They had no idea what they had done when they had decided to grant him a full Klingon blood. But soon they would regret it.

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #38 –
[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala | Observation Pen | the Versant ~ USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E ] @YasyraTrill
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When she materialised in the Observation Pen, she had been transported directly from the chamber she had shared with the Ovri alien. Her system had yet to cycle out the heavy drugs the Savi had inoculated her with, and she was still without her gown. At first, she hadn't understood what was happening, even missing the presence of the Ovri that had she'd been with - so indoctrinated by aphrodisiacs and pheromones that she'd all but forgotten how non-consensual the mating study had been for her. She just lay on her side, shaking in post-coitus tremors, coated in alien fluids.

The voice had spoken, this odd, contralto voice, and it sounded like a male version of the voice in the previous chamber. Weakly, she raised her head and blinked with her green eyes, trying to see who all the moving figures were. By that time, the appearance of the area changed, and she frowned, finding herself in a Federation starship shuttlebay. The people around her remained, however, and they seemed to move towards a couple of tables further into the shuttle bay. Vaguely, her head yet clear, she thought she heard the mention of uniforms, but her mind was still laid to waste by the chemicals in her system.

She was weaker still after her Correction, which had been completed. She no longer retained her Papa's ridges, no longer possessing Romulan blood. With a trembling hand, she reached for her ear, feeling the point replaced by a rounded curve. She was like her mother, fully Human, and far from adapting to it yet.

Images flashed before her eyes from the previous chambers, where the tall Ovri with the moving phallus had moved in to kiss her, and then... and then... Devyrie made a sound between a growl and a moan, both lamenting the loss of her integrity and unable to deny the pleasure dealt unto her during the mating study. It was all too much to think about, all too soon after having been removed from that Resequence Pod. She tried, slowly, to stand. To finally get up on her feet. It was something she'd never done when the Ovri forced himself upon her, just as mad as she'd been. As much as she wanted to swear vengeance upon that Ovri, she knew he had not been the instigator of what had been done to her. It was the Savi... These vile scientists that had made her half of what she once were...

Back-lit by the space outside the shuttle bay, Devyrie Okhala rose to her feet, shaking still, and stepped towards the others - moving towards the area where there were uniforms. Another game... Another experiment... At least she could get warm. At least she could cover herself... and start thinking. She didn't meet the eyes of those that looked upon her. If there was anyone she knew, she didn't want to be seen, unable to face them after what had just been done to her. Don't look at me...

So, with her Alpha Centauri locks of hair hanging before her face, she put one foot in front of the other...

...yet her head kept spinning.

The vertigo overtook her, and she missed a step. She fell to the deck. Couldn't get up. She could feel Ovri seed escaping her, but she was oblivious to the humiliation - already unconscious. With her last conscious thought, she had sworn death upon the Savi, and she would use everything her Papa had taught her to punish them all.

OOC: Now, we move the hands of time forward 1 hour! One hour should be enough for everyone to have settled into the Enteprise, new locations available as you all see fit. Personally, my hope is that @YasyraTrill now post next, where she can both find her lost sister, and start up a scene wherever would suit best, be it sickbay, some quarters or whatever. Everyone should take this opportunity to write their characters together with the characters on the Enterprise, but I will not have any opportunity to NPC them all, so work together with other writers if you need to! Also, a reminder about the mission objectives, and how you should try to have Endeavour and Theurgy crewmembers commingle and plot escape together. Posting order is free! But everyone in the Observation Pen should at least post once within the next 7 days!

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #39 –
[Ens Nathanial "Icarus" Isley |  Observation Pen | the Versant ~ USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E | Type 11 Shuttlecraft ]

Isley awoke slowly, his head still throbbing from everything that he had gone through, and didn't really understand. Everything seemed like a blur because of the drugs that had sedated him, and he was left thirsty, feeling like this was all some sort of shuttle in a shuttle bay. His surroundings had gone from the strange and bizzare to the mundane and familiar, and yet he knew this wasn't reality, there had been a voice telling him as such.

A soft, yet loud voice that had spoken to him, and in his semi conscious state the only words he had managed to pick up was Observation, hologram and known environment. It all twisted and rolled around his head for a long moment, this was a simulation, and because of that he had to be wary of every single person he'd meet. He wasn't sure who or what would be real in this place.

Then came the familiar stroke of paranoia that he had grown accustomed too over the last few hours, wait was it hours or a day? Had it been longer? Nathan wasn't sure, all he knew for certain that these things, these Savi, they were real, and they all needed to die. Anger, his mother always warned him that Vulcan emotions were intense, that to be passionate about something was good, but if left to its own ends it was a fire that would destroy everything, and that anger for the sake of anger was a bad thing.

He had half a mind to make his mother choke on those words, because his skin had a green tinge to it that wasn't vulcan, his features were warped, and he was now a more handsome reflection of his 'brother'. Another flash of anger and Nathan tried to move his hand to strike at the shuttle craft around him, only to feel his entire body lurch forward when he realized he was still confined in a strait jacket that was more designed for a galactic standard than one as tall and lanky as him. His body barely seemed to fit in the thing, and despite feeling like he could tare the jacket apart as he struggled with it the materials would not budge.

He lashed out then with his legs, finding no binding on them kicking the shuttle's walls and doors till he managed to hit a release and the door swung open his next kick throwing him out of the confined shuttle and onto the floor of a shuttle bay. Letting out a frustrated yell as he seemingly flopped around for a moment trying to get back to his feet.

The shuttle bay lay empty. If there had been others, they had already left.

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #40 –
[Ensign Okhala | Day 5 | Observation Pen | the Versant ~ Medical Bay | USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @patches @steelphoenix @SummerDawn @Fife

The last hour had passed in a blur after the hurried reassurances from Cross that he was who he seemed, and the initial relief that brought, she was almost immediately blindsided by her heightened senses. As she was talking to Cross about what had been done to them and where they were her newly enhanced sense of smell picked up a familiar sent. Though it was tainted by the chemical smell of correction, the acrid decay of fear and something spicy that suggested things Laurel didn't want to think about, was the homey tang of lemon-green tea, a spice common in Alpha Centauri cooking and hair gel . . . that was definitely Devyrie!

As she became aware of the scent she heard the sound of someone falling to the ground and almost on autopilot, Laurel pushed passed Cross and stumbled toward the naked, ash-blonde human on the ground in front of the tables from which her new uniform came. The woman was out cold on the deck plate when Laurel sunk down beside her, taking in the changes in her sister . . . the rounded ears, the missing ridges and how very pale she seemed now. Her sister loved their Romulan heritage, there is no way she had chosen to be made human. That meant that like Laurel herself those monsters had taken their requests and ignored them in favor of the other choice for whatever their sick purposes were. As she moved to gently roll Dev to her back, reaching blindly up to the table to find something to cover her up, she noticed what that other smell was and that rage that had been momentarily banked by relief and surprise was back hotter than before. Those <aehallhs>! They had <aith> her! Finally someone handed her a uniform as her hand groped hopelessly for something to help her fallen sister. The salt of tears blurred her vision and she felt more nauseous than she had, even when pulling the feeding tube. What drugs were left in her system made her movements uncoordinated and sluggish but her mind was now back to full capacity, though short circuiting from the information overload she was getting from her close proximity to Dev. Moving to cradle her older sister as she helped cover her, she had asked for help.

An hour later saw her sitting in a med bay, a tricorder in her face as a hologram medical officer attempted to try and determine what kind of drug cocktail she had been given, she ignored the questions mostly as she watched the other 'medical officers' work on her sister. The doctor, Beverly Crusher, evidently they had been projected onto the Enterprise, had said that physically her sister would be ok once her own drugs had run their course and she had had some rest . . . mentally they couldn't really say. Not that any of the test subjects were particularly stable at the moment, Laurel had had to be talked down from near biting one of the medical staff that came to retrieve Dev, when they tried to take her from Laurel. Looking back on that incident she owed Cross . . . again. If she had attacked that hologram their is a chance that the Savi would have just recycled her and then where would that leave Devyrie and Cross and the others . . . No, it was better she was still there. She hadn't been able to get to any of the Savi yet after all.

So she refocused on the person before her and answered their questions as best she could, though really she had no idea what half the things the Savi had done to her while she was loopy even were . . . or their consequences. Her arms itched as they ran the regenerator over the marks and she held back a growl when one of the orderlies approached with a hypospray. 'They aren't here to hurt you. They are just a simulation. They aren't Savi.' A mantra she chanted over and over in her head to calm her raw emotions and drown out how loud everything still was. The medical bay seemed to be even brighter than the rest of the ship and she could feel the headache building behind her eyes. She hoped they released her soon. While she was loathe to leave Devyrie alone, she needed to find others that were prepared to plan things . . . she needed something to distract her from the twitchy feeling of wanting to fight before she made a mistake that could get her or one of the other captives into big trouble.

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #41 –
[ Lt. Cross | Observation Pen - USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E | Shuttle Bay ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Numen @steelphoenix @SummerDawn @patches @Masorin @YasyraTrill Anyone Else...

Cross, having had to restrain Ensign Okhala to prevent her from assaulting the holographic medical staff that came to get the female human who had been beamed in, was fairly sure that Ensign Okhala was stable enough for the moment. He could only hope she wouldn’t assault anyone else as he turned and moved off, glancing around and attempting to commit the faces of those in the shuttle bay to memory. Satisfied that he would be able to recognize those present, he collected his PADD from the holographic PO Benson and proceeded out of the shuttle bay. As he strode out of the doors and into the corridor beyond he skimmed over the PADD to find out where his quarters were located and what his posting in this absurd simulation was. He heard footsteps approaching quickly behind him and was unsurprised when PO Narelle appeared at his side, falling in with his pace and looking up at him expectantly. “So what should we do now, sir?” The PO asked, dodging out of the way of an oncoming security Ensign which Cross did not recognize and assumed was a hologram.

“It’s the duty of any captured Starfleet officer to attempt escape.” Cross spoke quietly, though he doubted it would make much difference. If the Savi were monitoring them, they would be aware of what he was saying. “Though I still don’t know how we’re going to get out of this <fucking shithole>.”

The PO chuckled as they moved down the hallway, once again finding her department chief’s habit of swearing in Cardassian amusing. She then jumped as Cross violently barked out another curse, having looked at his assignment slated for that day.

“<Fucking> night shift?!?”


[ Lt. Cross | Personal Quarters | USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E | Precept-ship Versant ]

40 Minutes later Cross stepped out of the sonic shower, sighing at the sensation of finally being clean as he walked through his quarters. He wasn’t usually one to enjoy luxuries, generally keeping a more utilitarian mindset, but he found himself relishing the feeling on this particular occasion.

He thought back on the days they had spent adrift in the escape pod, sweating as the cramped and overcrowded space had first become hot, then stifling with the breath, body heat and perspiration of 6 people. They had escaped that hell, only to be thrown into a different one, the Savi ship. Under the Savi’s cold and soulless “care” he had been immersed in a pod full of some sort of gel, poked, prodded, operated on, experimented on and left battling for his own sanity. Now, free of the coating of residue from the gel, sweat, blood, and whatever else had been covering him from head to toe, he felt reborn.

Cross reached the bed and pulled on the standard issue boxers he had been given in the shuttle bay before stepping into his uniform pants. He had hours before his night shift began but lacked any clothes besides the uniform and couldn’t be bothered to replicate any. He pulled on his shirt and shrugged into his tunic, adjusting it and looking at himself in the mirror. It was good to be wearing the red uniform of a tactical officer again, but her couldn’t get used to seeing the smooth nose and unfortunately prominent eyebrows in the mirror.

Fucking Vulcans… Cross thought, glaring at his reflection.

Turning from the mirror he stepped into his boots and was about to leave his quarters when his combadge chirped at him.

[Lieutenant Cross, report to the Bridge.] came the voice of Commander Riker, [The Captain would like a word with you.]


[ Lt. Cross | Captain’s Ready Room | Bridge | USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E | Precept-ship Versant ]

Cross walked through the Bridge and entered the ready room, annoyed at having to play along with this charade. He stopped in front of the Captain’s desk and stood smartly at ease, shoulders back, hands clasped behind his back and feet shoulder width apart. From behind the desk the stern visage of Captain Picard silently regarded him. Even though he was a hologram, a part of Cross couldn’t help but be impressed with the man, a legend among Starfleet officers.

“Lieutenant Cross, reporting as ordered, Captain.” Cross recited the line, still finding this situation farcical.

“Thank you for coming, Lieutenant.” Said Picard, rising from his chair and moving to the replicator. “Would you like anything?”

“No thank you, sir.”

“Very well,” said Picard, turning to the replicator and placing his order. “Tea, chamomile. Hot.”

Cross’ eyes flickered towards the Captain before returning to the spot on the wall directly ahead of him. Captain Picard’s tea order had been somewhat of a running joke among some of the officers he had served with over the years, though the Savi seemed to have gotten that particular detail wrong. Cross wondered what else might be off about this damned simulation. His mind was pulled back to the present situation when Picard, having reclaimed his chair, began to speak.

“The reason I asked you here, Lieutenant,” Picard began, “Was to get a feel for the man who would be watching over my ship tonight. I know you’ve been through quite an ordeal recently, and this may be your first time in charge of the Bridge, and I wanted to make sure you’re up for it.” Cross couldn’t help but grit his teeth.

“Computer, delete character Picard.” Cross muttered quietly. Picard remained where he sat and looked at Cross quizzically.

It was worth a shot… Cross thought as he mentally hurled several curses at the Savi and their fucking simulation.

“Did you say something, Lieutenant?”

“I was just saying I feel confident in my ability to watch over the bridge tonight, sir.” Cross replied.

“Ah. Very well, Lieutenant. You’ve got several hours before your shift begins, I’ll let you get some rest. I look forward to reading your report in the morning.” Holo-Picard gave him a seemingly condescending smile, and Cross found himself wanting to rip the hologram’s shiny bald head off, though he restrained himself.

“Dismissed, Lieutenant.”

With that, Cross turned and strode out of the ready room and made his way off the bridge, heading off in search of his fellow prisoners. He had 7 hours before he had to continue with this ridiculous game, and they had an escape to plan.


OOC: If anyone else wants to condemn their characters to night shift as well, it might be a good place to plot and/or put a plan in motion.

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #42 –
Khorin, son of Margon, of House Mo'Kai | Day 5 | Observation Pen | Precept-Ship Versant/ USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E | Armory ]
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Att:  @steelphoenix  @SummerDawn  @Auctor Lucan  @Masorin @patches  @YasyraTrill @Fife @Brutus @Anyone else!

Baktag simulation. puQloD SaD Ha'DIbaH*, that Savi. Khorin had arrived at the armory full of confidence, all pride and toothy grins, but soon his expression had twisted into a grimace of disgust. All weapons, absolutely all weapons in the armory were just as harmful as the teeth of a newborn targ.They were hardly different than toys made of manipulated photons, absolutely useless. In fact, the phasers weren't even capable of firing, when he pulled the trigger they emitted an ominous beam of light ... and little else. He had even shot his own foot, just to see if it really was as useless as it seemed, and the effect had been the same as if he has were fired himself with a flashlight.

Of course, he had gone madly enraged. How not to do it? Not only he couldn't face his enemies, but he had to comply with that pantomime. Unable to avoid it, he threw the useless weapon into the corridor, kicked the shelves of the small room and roared out his frustration. Khorin had always been impulsive and vehement, but his new full klingon blood made his old self look like a Hu'tegh vulcan. How, in the name of the Barge of the Dead, was he going to begin a mutiny without a single weapon? He needed to get out of there, he needed to draw a new plan. He rested his ridged forehead at the door of the armory and closed his eyes, trying to calm down. Plans, plans, plans, he need plans.

At that moment, the door opened, causing Khorin to stagger forward. He looked up to find himself face to face with another Klingon. Of course he knew him. What young man in Qo'noS had not heard of Worf son of Mogh? First Klingon licenced in Starfleet Academy, even discommendated he was able to regain his honor, the one who helped to establish Gowron as chancellor and, later, his executioner, the one who reinstated the Emperor, blood-brother of Chancellor Martok ...he was a living legend, with its lights and shadows. Khorin looked him straight in the eye, unable to say anything. Mogh's son was watching him with a frown and the pilot couldn't help but keep his gaze ... until he realized that he had made him a question.

"Sorry, sir?" He asked.

"I query what has happened here, Lieutenant" growled the Tactical Officer.

Khorin glanced at the mess he had set up in the armory and just shrugged. "I was angry."

Worf nodded, his brow darkening his eyes. "I see. You look for the battles in the wrong place." He said, fixing his penetrating gaze on the young Klingon. "Your recent experiences are no excuse for this kind of discipline alteration. I want to see everything in order before the start of your shift." Without adding anything else, he went on his way, sure that he would be obeyed.

Khorin didn't even answer, just watched him go away. But he had no intention of ordering that mess. In any case, the holographic Worf was right about one thing: his battle wasn't against the simulation, it was against the Savi, he had to find a way to face his captors face to face... and defeat them.




Khorin, son of Margon, of House Mo'Kai | Day 5 | Observation Pen | Precept-Ship Versant / USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E | Corridors]

The next hour found Khorin in the starship corridors. His klingon heart was still clamoring for battle, but at least he had begun to plan a plan. His captors had warned them that a disruptive behavior would automatically be punished by recycling, it was a long shot but maybe it was the only option to escape, however desperate it was. Even so, if he had an ally next to him, he might have a chance. He didn't know what he could found outside that Observation Pen beyond the gel-filled capsule where he had been "corrected", he had barely glimpsed anything inside the ship but it was better to be at large inside the ship real, with the possibility of getting real weapons, that remain trapped in that parody, unable to do anything. The impotence of his current situation made him grunt gravely.

A few steps down the corridor made him look back where the sound came from, it was the vulcan he had seen in the shuttle bay, he recognized the shaved head and his bitter gesture so unbecoming of a vulqangan. Either way he seemed as determined and as furious about his situation as he was.

When they crossed their steps, Khorin took him by the arm, stopping him and looked him straight in the eyes, looming over the red shirt, taking advantage of his greater height. "The duty of every Starfleet member captured by a hostile force is to escape," he finally growled in a low voice, "We need a plan how to scape, and free the others."



* puqloD SaD Ha'DIbaH .- Sons of thousand dogs

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #43 –
"'Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds', said Oppenheimer. Human history, and now, that be mine. I have taken lives. Good lads and lasses all, because they made a mistake...they trusted me. God forgive me, but they trusted me, and I repaid them by killing them. I do wish now tha' I had died in th' Dominion War..."
- Sinead O'Riley, Cause and Effect

[ Lt. JG Sinead O'Riley | Biolabs | Main Research Hull | Precept-ship Versant ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @Numen, @steelphoenix, @SummerDawn, @patches, @Masorin, @YasyraTrill & @Fife
[Show/Hide]
What have I done? What have I done?

The question repeated itself over and over again in her head, as she rocked back and forth, staring at Rihen Niyah's glazed eyes. Her neck twisted unnaturally around, looking lifelessly at her. There was no question, no doubt, about who did it. There was no one else here, but herself. She took the poor woman's life, and she couldn't do a thing to stop it. No, worse, she thought somehow that Rihen was a threat. Something had broken in her. Something even Vulcan training and teaching couldn't heal or suppress. Not this time.

“What have yeh done?” said her raw emotional self in her head. A phantom spirit of her own making. “Yeh killed th' wee lass, that be what yeh did. How does it feel? Hmm?”

She felt a familiar sensation of nausea as she was transported from the empty room, save for Rihen's body to...

[ Shuttle Bay | Deck 03 | USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E ]

...a Federation starship? Had she been saved? Rescued? Was it just a few minutes too late? She could have been spared from murdering a helpless woman that was under Starfleet protection?!? She wanted to scream. But something was off. She had only been a few days on the Theurgy, but it was enough to recognize the size differences. This ship was of a slightly older design. She heard Miles O'Brien's voice, and that confirmed it for her, seeing as the man looked a little younger than he should be looking, given the passage of years since the time she'd last seen him, as a child.

This was a holo program, and she was alone in the shuttle bay. If there were other abductees, they had either already left, or they were yet to arrive. Besides O'Brien and his officers at the table, all she could hear was some commotion from the shuttles.

“We are killers, yeh an' me,” said her phantom self, “th' only difference 'tween us is I make no lie about it. But yeh fool yerself, lass.”

“Sh-shut up...” said Sinead, softly, her body trembling, as she remained seated, her knees drawn up to her chest.

“Shut up, now, is it?” said the phantom in a sing-song, taunting voice, “Where be that typical load of crap yeh like t' spew at me? What was it again? Yeh are me, I am yeh, we be one an' th' same, aye? That be how yeh like t' put it.”

The phantom appeared to be walking around her, fists planted on hips, smirking down at her, “Oh how th' Mighty Sinead O'Riley has fallen. Blood o' innocents on 'er hands. Yeh didna know it before, but yeh do now, at last, aye?”

“Shut up...!” Sinead covered her ears with her palms, but it was a futile effort. The voice was in her head, not out here. It was very likely a side effect of the microchip in the brain, or a growing insanity. Chaos...

The last thought was not her own.

“Yeh shoul' thank these Savi. They confirmed fer yeh what yeh have suspected fer some time...” Sinead shook her head at the phantom's words, she didn't want to hear it said out, but the phantom was revelling in her misery, “Yeh are death itself. The Grim Reaper. Everythin' th' people in th' War said about yeh was TRUE!”

“SHUT UP!!!” Sinead shrieked at the top of her lungs, her head throwing back, eyes shut in frustration, “SHUT UP! GO AWAY! SHUT AAAHHP!!!”

The tears hadn't stopped pouring since Rihen's death.

She was the monster, but she cried.

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #44 –
[ Lahkesis Saugn | ICU | Main Sickbay | "USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E" | Precept-ship Versant ]
[Show/Hide]

In sickbay she moved with an almost mechanical stoicism, detached from the world around her. She could not say how long she had been on duty or even when she transferred to the Enterprise, those details were lost in the jumble of her mind. Indeed the details of much of the last year had blurred into a mess of memories and half remembered dreams. The details had been shattered, leaving her unable to grasp a linear path of events.

All she knew for sure was what she had been told only moments before when she had been given a clean uniform, something had happened to hers, though she was uncertain what, and that was that she was the new Doctor on the Enterprise. So she had gone to work.

So she went about her duties, treating crew with the various medical complaints, doing the regular tests and experiments, and keeping up on the never ending stream of paperwork. All of this she did with the ease of a machine as it took little of her fragmented memory to be able to do them. Her skills as a physician did not seem affected by her current issue, whatever it was.

As she moved around sickbay, her pale pupilless eyes seeming to fix on no person, not really identifying anyone on face value, in her current state they were all strangers to her and all were either patients she needed to help or colleagues she would work with, her mind made the distinction and she acted, almost in a dream-like state, saying almost nothing, but behaving pleasant all the same.

She could not see what was wrong because to her things had always been that way, or at the very least they had been that way for as long as she had linear memory. Beyond that was a tangled web of shadows.

Every now and then she would remember a large scaled man, his touch on her body. She would see a blind man staring at her from the corner of her eye, but he would not be there when she turned her head to look. Both disturbed her as she did not remember the names of either man, yet knew she would give herself mind and body for either of them in a single beat of her heart.

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #45 –
[ Deacon | Main Sickbay | USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E Simulation | Precept-ship Versant (Observation Pen) ] @SummerDawn  @patches  @Auctor Lucan  @Absinthe

An hour, it had taken an hour before the voices that had been rampaging in and out of his thoughts and shattering his rational mind were silent.  His beautiful K'Ren, who had been graced with the body of a goddess, and another female who had apparently been as felinoid as he at one point, had managed slip him away from the false shuttlebay to a false sickbay for seeming fear that his out of control empathy would muddy his mind and shatter his sense of self.  In retrospect, he'd felt it as well, although at the time he could no more discern his own senses from those around him.  He supposed that had he a chance to think about it before arriving, he might very well have questioned whether holographic medication would have an effect, but false or not, he was thankful for the intervention. 

"How are you feeling?" a red haired female in a long blue coat asked, hovering at the edge of his biobed, a small tricorder in her hand.

He glanced about him, looking first for his mate and then for any other face he might recognize before giving a grim nod to the holographic doctor -- Crusher, he believe he heard someone call her.  He questioned the need to maintain any such civility towards this artificial projection, but a tinge of guilt brought another to mind -- one who had cared for him when he was stricken with a virus that nearly killed him.  Turning his now blue-tinged eyes to regard the holographic doctor, he tried to see if there was anything in her that he recognized, but try as he might, he could see no signs of the Theurgy.  "Better," he said at last. "My brain isn't going to explode."

The hologram smiled, straightening her back and slipping the tricorder into the pocket of her coat.  "Well, that's progress then.  It's fortunate that we had some neural inhibitor on hand.  It usually takes sixteen hours to replicate.  I'll make sure we maintain a supply on hand in case your symptoms return."

He slid his legs off the edge of the bed, descending to the floor, his knees uncertain, his tail lashing wildly to compensate for his altered sense of gravity.  Everything felt off.  The Savi had broken his legs, reshaped them to mimic a human's stance such that his natural instinct to stand on the balls of his feet left him off balance. 

"Xander," the hologram said, evoking a defensive sense of outrage from deep within.  If nothing, he knew some part of his kzinti self yet lingered, but he could not risk an incarceration, even in this false vessel, nor could he risk an artificial advancement of the promised memory wipe.  Instead, he looked over his shoulder, managing to swallow his indignation behind the numbness of the inhibitor that had managed to quiet the world outside his mind.  "I'm curious about your tail," she said, giving it a small nod.  "Your genetic profile is clearly human but I've never seen a human with an atavistic mutation like that.  How long have you had it?"

Atavistic?  Like a monkey.  They think he's a monkey.  He clenched his fists, forcing himself to breath, to release the sense of outrage that he so badly wanted to act on.  The hologram was not the right target.  Bracing himself against the edge of the biobed, he faced her.  "All my life.  And I would prefer to keep it," he noted, a carefully cultivated tone allowing him to sound civil when he felt anything but.

She smiled.  "Of course.  If it isn't troubling you, there's no reason to remove it.  I was merely curious."  She turned to the overhead displays which showed a readout of his brainwaves, likely her own option for tracking the effectiveness of the drug she'd given him.  "I took the liberty of contacting Guinan and advising her that you should take the day off to see how the inhibitor works.  If you experienced any unexpected side effects, report back to sickbay immediately.  If your symptoms don't return, then you should be clear for your duty shift tomorrow in Ten Forward."

He gave a nod, pretending he had the slightest idea what she had said, as she turned and walked away to check on another patient.

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #46 –
[ K'Ren | Day 5 | Observation Pen | Precept-Ship Versant / USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E | Shuttle Bay ] Attn: @steelphoenix @patches  @Absinthe @anyone
[Show/Hide]
K'Ren accepted the uniform that R'Rori gave her. Starfleet did dictate some form of covering over her fur, but she was a bit surprised the simulation had gone to the extent of providing a uniform suited to her form. The one piece dress, while based around the standard uniform of the Dominion War era, and looking much like it, borrowed elements from older uniform designs. For her purposes at least, it was a skirted uniform, and that meant there was no need for the tail hole that she disliked. Thinking about it as she put it on, it was in fact very familiar, she'd worn one just like this when she reported about her first posting. The color bands however, reverted to red as while she might have been a fighter pilot, on ships without a dedicated fighter wing, all pilots wore red as their departmental color.

"Agreed. We stay together." She remarked, moving to assist Deacon.

[2130hrs]

With R'Rori's help they'd gotten Deacon to sickbay, a much larger one then she'd expected, the Resolve's had been smaller, though it was a smaller ship so that at least made sense. Once he was resting on a bio bed while the medication took hold, she hoped it was the real stuff, not something these Savi were using to experiment on them with, she could take a look around while she waited for her mate to recover.

Glancing around, still adjusting to the improved visual acuity her now fully Caitian eyes afforded, she watched the staff go about their work. It all seemed normal enough, nobody she recognized but that was expected given this ship wasn't real, the people as fake as the chair she sat in. As she sat there tho, she saw one face in the crowd she recognized. Recognized might have been too strong a term but the women seemed familiar somehow, like a flash of memory, from when she came aboard her new home, the Theurgy. K'Ren waited until the women had come back to the area she was sitting before K'Ren stood and went over to the woman. "Ma'am. Are you with the recent transfers in?" she asked, hoping to couch her query in a way that would make sense if the women was part of the program.

TAG: @Absinthe

[2200 hrs]

K'Ren stood a respectful distance away as Deacon awoke finally, the sedatives and drugs having done their work. A different doctor, not the one she'd spoken with earlier, was attending to Deacon. It was only once the conversation she was having with Deacon was finished and she'd left that K'Ren came forward, stopping in front of Deacon. "How are you mate?" she asked, not sure why she was keeping a respectful distance between them. Her instincts told her to leap out and hug him, nuzzling the man, letting him know exactly how she felt, but concern that the Savi were watching, might interpret her affection as something that needed further correction gave her pause.

A part of her mind reminded her tho that regardless of self-preservation, she would rather die with her bond mate, then go through the next few days before her memory wipe, not loving the man she cared deeply about. ~Damned if you do, Damned if you don't.~ she thought, before stepping up to Deacon and wrapping her arms around him, holding him close. Even as her arms went around him, the stress and the pain began to well up in her, fighting for release. These creatures, these monsters, they took everything, took her human side, took Deacon's K'Zin side, and then in a final act of callousness, took the offspring they'd made together, and discarded them like some sort of left over medical waste.

Uniform Ref: [Show/Hide]

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #47 –
[ Lt. Cross | Day 5 | Corridors | USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E | Precept-ship Versant ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @Numen @patches @YasyraTrill @SummerDawn @steelphoenix @Masorin @Triage Anyone else.

Cross stalked down the corridors of the Enterprise, not sure exactly where he was headed and not sure where anything was on this ship anyway. In fact, at this point there was very little he did know besides the fact that he hated the Borg, he hated the Savi, and he hated this fucking simulation. He ground his teeth and breathed heavily through his nose as he rounded a corner, finding yet another corridor stretching off ahead of him, and continued onward at his furious pace. Or at least he would have, but for a Klingon grabbing his arm and halting his progress.

“The duty of every Starfleet member captured by a hostile force is to escape.” The Klingon growled as he loomed over Cross, “We need a plan how to escape, and free the others.”

The surprise Cross felt at being grabbed by a strange Klingon, and at having the same words he had spoken to PO Narelle earlier echoed back at him, made him forget his hatred of all things Savi for just a moment. Cross found he recognized the Klingon and racked his brain in an attempt to come up with the Klingon’s name.

“I saw you in the observation pen, didn’t I?” Cross asked, narrowing his eyes as he tried to recall the name. “Before the holodeck was brought online. You kicked the wall and almost fell over!” Cross recalled with a chuckle. “It’s Khorin, right? I don’t recognize you from the Endeavour. What ship are you…” Cross cut his sentence short as he glanced down the corridor behind them and saw some unfamiliar crew members moving towards them.  He tilted his head in the other direction, indicating they should continue down the corridor.

“I agree we need to come up with a plan. I have no desire to play along with this charade.” Cross confided in the Klingon as they strode down the corridor, speaking quietly so as not to be overheard by those around them. “The question is how do we go about it? The room we were in before this simulation began had no door, and I find it doubtful we’ll be able to access a transporter from in here…” Cross trailed off as he thought about the situation. The Savi had said that the food from the replicators would be real, but that they would not be able to harm themselves or each other, meaning the weapons would most likely be useless. With no way to leave the holodeck under their own power, and having no way of arming themselves, they were left with little in the way of fighting back against the Savi even if they were to escape.

Short of beating them with our bare hands… Cross thought as he glanced up at the Klingon. He certainly looks like he’d be up to the task.

Cross thought about it for a moment, then looked up at the Klingon again as he spoke. “Have you spoken with any of the other captives? If we’re going to have any chance of succeeding, we’ll need to recruit the others as well.” He tried to recall those that he had seen in the observation pen before the holodeck had activated. Okhala and the human woman she had been so protective of. R’Rori had been there, as well as the two other felinoids. Two humans, one with only one arm, and the one who had been beamed into the pen mid curse, and a Romulan who had fallen out of the shuttle. Cross couldn’t remember any of the others.

It’s a start. Cross thought as they continued down the corridor. We need to find the others so we can figure out a plan of attack.

Cross came to a sudden stop as a thought occurred to him. Okhala and the human would have gone to sickbay. R’Rori and the two felines would have as well. That made sickbay a good place to start.

“Computer, how do we get to sickbay from out present location?” Cross asked aloud. He waited for the computer to give him the directions, then set off to seek out the others. He’d fill Khorin in on the way.

I might get out of night shift after all… Cross thought to himself with a  bemused smile as he and Khorin made their way to sickbay.

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #48 –
Joint post between patches, SummerDawn and Steelphoenix
[ Lt. R'Rori, Ens K'Ren, Deacon |  Main Sickbay | USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E Simulation ] @steelphoenix @SummerDawn @Absinthe @Fife @Numen @YasyraTrill @Auctor Lucan etc.

R’Rori tugged on the uniform skirt, wishing for the fifth time that s/he had thought of how cold it would be without fur on hir legs. After badgering medics to treat Deacon, s/he had spent the time tersely conversing with the holographic Dr Crusher, who seemed a little … off from what the counselor remembered hearing of the semi-famous doctor. The Caitian hadn’t approached hir, seemingly preferring to stay close to her mate. There was a moment when she walked off and approached one of the medical staff, though, and R’Rori idly wondered what was going on there.

It took an annoyingly large amount of hir mental processing to keep hirself focused on something other than the state of hir body. Without someone begging for hir attention or requiring assistance that s/he could provide, hir brain was free to tug on the age old struggle with dysphoria as well as the more recent memories of the Endeavour’s destruction and the follow up treatment by their alien captors. When Deacon moved, R’Rori alerted and moved away from the wall s/he had been leaning again. Dr Crusher got to him first and then it was his mate, K’Ren. S/he moved hirself to where he could see hir and closer to where s/he didn’t have to raise hir voice to speak.

“Yes, how are you feeling now?” S/he hesitated before continuing, the question burning in hir mind urgently pushing forward to be spoken. “You aren’t from the Endeavour, are you? Either of you?”

Deacon looked at the once-felinoid, his eyes slightly narrowed, before giving a questionning glance towards K'Ren, his hand wrapped firmly around her own.  "If you don't mind a head full of cotton," he replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his free hand, the tip of his tail bracing against the side of the biobed to keep him steadily on his feet, "then I suppose it's fine.  At least I can think again, which is more than I had."

K'Ren gave Deacon a reassuring squeeze as he spoke to R'Rori. It felt a little odd to be holding a human hand but only because the man beside her had once been K'Zin. Of course she'd also once been part human so it was what it was. Turning to face the women she smiled, teeth covered. "We are not from there no. We were captured from a different Starfleet vessel." She was unsure if she should mention the Theurgy's name so left that part out, for now at least.

R'Rori nodded slowly in response to both of their answers. "A head full of cotton is much better than what you were going through before, sir. I haven't worked with empaths often. They usually prefer one of the other counselors that are themselves empathic or telepathic for some reason or another."

The two were clearly keeping the ship's name secret for now, which was very curious. There were very few reasons to do that, especially if they were all Starfleet here. The Caitian carried herself like a Starfleet officer, something that R'Rori had quickly noted once they got to Sickbay. S/he debated pressing for more details momentarily and decided to go for a slightly different tack. "Our ship was destroyed by a Borg cube. Probably still close by the area, assuming our jailors don't have a super-fast ship. Did your ship also have a run in with the Borg or...?"

Deacon's expression turned dark, perhaps more-so than a human should be capable of conveying, even as he bared his fangs.  "Our ship was attacked by the things that did this to us," he said, his voice as close to a growl as he could manage, but it lacked the proper backing and, to him, made the statement feel all the more lacking.  "Barely a few weeks away from homeworld and all but the most superficial of what I knew has been scraped away.  Half way there was one thing -- saving my life was fine.  But this...."  He shook his head before looking up at K'Ren again.  "The Fanged God challenges us with only that which we can face.  I could bear this monkey face if I had to, but to strike at our..."  He clenched his fist, taking a deep breath.  "The doctor warned me to remain calm or I risk purging the inhibitor from my system before it sets."

Looking back at R'Rori, he stood to his full height, although still some inches shorter than he had been, thanks to their captor's tender mercies.  "I assume you were part caitian," he said to her, his eyes trying to take in what few feline features remained.  "Starfleet, sapient, that would be my conclusion."  His lips tightened before inclining his head.  "Thank you for your assistance earlier."

K'Ren could sense the tension in Deacon and her spare hand she moved up his back, gently massaging around the shoulder, the same spot she'd discovered the night before could help calm her mate down.  "We are recently mated, Deacon and I.  The bond ties us together." She paused, "We are from different vessels tho we came to call the starship named Theurgy home. I came from a ship destroyed by Starfleet, why I do not know, only that my fellow crew were branded traitors upon our arrival at Starbase 84.  We were rescued by Theurgy, only to be attacked by these aliens."

It was a few moments before R'Rori spoke again, during which hir eyes drifted from Deacon's blue to K'Ren's green pairs. Hir eyes had once been a reflective silver, but the genetic tampering had muted them to something like a sharper grey. "I am- was half-Caitian, yes. They have taken my mother's heritage from me, leaving me only the scraps like they did with you. My name is R'Rori."

Hir name was meant to be a soft purr or growl, but now hir throat could no longer do more than approximate the deeper intricacies of hir mother's tongue and the reminder brought forth a surge of anger shown through a flick of hir tail and hir ears flattening for a barely a few seconds before s/he refocused. "Fanged God? Me being sapient seems notable..." Sentient felinoid species were rare. Deacon was clearly not from any in the Federation and the reference to the Fanged God tugged at R'Rori's memory before it came to hir in a flash. "Kzin? The Patriarchy..."

S/he turned hir gaze back to K'Ren, a slight frown marring the normally gentle features on hir face. "And the Theurgy, you say? They saved you? First the Borg, then this, and now I'm talking to people on the Federation's Most Wanted list. This week just keep delivering."

"The week is welcome to take back its deliveries.  The majority of them were unwelcome and unrequested," Deacon grumbled before he finally released his grip on the biobed, his tail whipping somewhat uneasily behind him.  "With one exception," he added, giving K'Ren's hand a squeeze. "As for the Savi, I'm afraid they've taken this beyond an insult of the flesh.  I will kill them all for this.  Even kzin frown on genocide, but I lack the skills to force my own corrections on them genetically, so I'm afraid it'll have to be a bit more... bloody."  He glanced at R'Rori. "Maybe your borg need a new playmate.  Either way, this vessel and every grey skinned thing that walks its halls will be prey in the hunting lands before I'm done.  And then I'll find every other ship that carries their misbegotten flock and treat them to the same fate."  It was ironic, he thought, that his people had spent so many centuries begrudged against humanity and now he'd sworn a life hunt against the Savi.  In this time, in this moment, though, he could think of aught else to satisfy his hunger for vengeance.  In truth, the thought of feasting on their monochromatic flesh even held a certain appeal.  His grandfather was right.  Humans were savage.

K'Ren, for all the pacifism the Caitian's were known for, fighting was seen as a last resort in defense of one's self and family, understood the anger in her mate even if she only sensed it in his posture and how he held his hand. She looked to R'Rori, "Neither of us wishes to be here, trust me.  The Dark One it seems plays tricks on us, forces us to play games we do not desire." She paused, "R'Rori, I do not wish to be anyone's enemy.  I did not chose this fate. I did not betray Starfleet despite what is said of the ship. I served Starfleet, and in return, they destroyed the ship I called home."

She sighed, "What matters is finding a way out of here, and if possible, reversing the changes these aliens have made, though that I doubt we will achieve. I have spoken with another of the crew I recognized, though not much came of it. It would be best we find a place where we can talk without prying ears, the lounge perhaps?" She offered a paw to R'Rori, claws retracted, paw open, wrist bared, the traditional greeting between Caitians.

R’Rori nodded in agreement with Deacon’s statement, though privately s/he didn’t quite agree with a promise to kill every Savi he could find. K’Ren’s answer caught hir attention once more, nodding in agreement with her suggestion. S/he held out hir own hand to grasp the Caitian’s wrist to return the greeting, mentally mourning the demise of hir claws. Hir hands had mere fingernails now, no longer worthy of even the attempt at combat.

“The Goddess may yet light a path for us then. Normally, I would suggest a counselor’s office to avoid prying ears but the lounge may be better to mask our conversation in this case.” S/he chuckled mirthlessly. “You will have your hunt soon enough, Deacon, if we manage to escape our prison. The scales will need balancing.”

Re: Chapter 02: The Versant [ Day 03 | 2100 hrs. ]

Reply #49 –
Khorin, son of Margon, of House Mo'Kai | Day 5 | Observation Pen | Precept-Ship Versant/ USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E | Corridors ]
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Att:  @steelphoenix  @SummerDawn  @Auctor Lucan  @Masorin @patches  @YasyraTrill @Fife @Brutus @Anyone else!

Khorin nodded with a smirk full of teeth when the vulcan pointed his temper tantrum shortly before introducing himself. Even now, if he knew where the wall of that Hu'tegh  holodeck was, he would hit it until he reached the other side, although he'd to wreck his fists achieving it. But unfortunately, it was not among what he could do at that moment.

“Yeah, that's me, then so you're lieutenant Cross, right?" Confirmed the klingon. When asked in which starship he was traveling on, Khorin was grateful for the arrival of the holographic crew members, which allowed him to gain a few seconds to quickly think about what to answer. As much as both needed allies, the crew of the Theurgy was among the most wanted of the Federation at that time, and introduce himself as one of them would only cause suspicion and mistrust. He peeked reluctantly to the vulcan as they continued down the corridor before answer.

"I am... I was a fighter pilot in Starbase 84," He finally whispered, suppressing his instinct of talk at the top of his lungs. The base was close enough and Khorin knew plenty about the pilots' routine at Starbases to compose a credible alibi."I was doing a test flight with a refitted interceptor when those fuckers took me out of my cockpit. I don't even know how many days I've been here.“ Maybe with that he could play dumb and avoid more questions.

When the officer in red asked for his next steps, Khorin brought him up to date on his discovery. "I was hoping to find something useful in the armory, at least to try to open a hole in the wall of this baktag cage. But what's there is as useless as a Ferengi. I've been thinking of replicate a raw targ head and make a knife with its fangs but I don't think i'll  go too far with a short-bladed weapon." He completely  meant it: making a primitive weapon with a jawbone was starting to be a tempting choice."For the moment, the best plan I've thought of is make a commotion big enought to get us beamed out to recycle. I know it's risky but maybe when we are out of this trap we have some opportunity to pave our way to the REAL shuttlebay. Surely there will be few casualties, but the more we are, more likely we could survive. We'll remember the fallen ones into our songs." Khorin knew it was a desperate plan, but it was the best he had with what little their captors had left them. In addition, MIA's were day-to-day of the pilots, and as a member of the Lone Wolves knew it well. However, it was better to die fighting than to remain there, being barely a toy of those creatures.

The Klingon clenched his fists, rattling his knuckles, as his footsteps advanced through the familiar-yet-odd corridors. Idly strolling through that fake Enterprise, unable to do anything, did nothing but increase his restlessness. He needed to act, he needed to beat those damned grey-beings until he turned them into discolored pulp for dared to turn him into a prisoner. Despite if they had fulfilled his most precious desire to become a worthy son of Qo'noS.
 
Cross kept asking him questions, this time about whether he'd talked to other captives. When Khorin was answering that he was the first one with whom he crossed after his inspection of the armory, the vulcan seemed to have an idea and enquired the starship computer about the sickbay location. Following his line of thought, he guessed he was looking for the rest of the prisoners. It was a clever first step: perhaps one of them had some useful skills that would allow them to draw a less hazardous plan.

Without need to agree about it, both men accelerated their pace to the infirmary, with the resolve of those who already have little to lose. When they arrived there, Khorin let Cross enter the room first, taking advantage of his higher height to take a look at its occupants. Close to the door were the felinoids that had spoted in the shuttlebay. It seemed that the crisis had passed and the two women held their wrists in a kind of greeting, while the man watched them a little farther, with a sinister look, barely human, in his blue eyes. Khorin grinned widely before that vision, whatever that quasi-human was before his correction, the pilot recognized the desire to kill as soon as he saw it, in tune with his own. And they were going to need all the killing machinery they had if they wanted to get out of there.

Beyond, several figures moved around some biobeds, but the separating panels prevented him from clearly distinguishing whether they were holograms or other captives. In any case, they had to recruit the cats first, without alerting their captors about their intentions.
 
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