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Topic: Day 11 [0850 hrs.] Welcome Aboard The Kut'luch | Silver Shadows Part 04 (Read 203 times) previous topic - next topic

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Day 11 [0850 hrs.] Welcome Aboard The Kut'luch | Silver Shadows Part 04
STARDATE 57583.54
MARCH 21, 2381
0850 hrs.

[ Captain Ruzaxo, son of Balto, of the House of Martok, Captain of the IKS Kut'luch | Transporter Room 03 | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy | Aldea ] Attn: @Numen @BZ @fiendfall @Zodiac

As the transporter haze diminished, Ruzaxo took in the distinctly Federation transporter room that he was now standing in. Where the Kut'luch's was small, dark and showing its age and dignified history, this one was clean, bright an unmarked. Like a babe fresh from its mother's breast, unknowing what the harsh universe had in store for it. Perhaps it wasn't a fair description, given what this ship had endured just to get to where it was, but that was the first thought that came when Ruzaxo sort a comparison.

He was here now, to gather up those crewmembers from the USS Theurgy that Zyrao Natauna had said had volunteered to accompany him on his ship to investigate a missing scout. It had missed its last two check-ins and the Kut'luch was being dispatched to investigate. The issue was, that after a recent engagement with a band of pirates, the B'rel class Bird-of-Prey was both damaged and undermanned. The damage he and his remaining crew would deal with as best they could but he would be more comfortable if he had close to a full crew complement, rather than the half-crew he had presently.

He had requested replacements from the High Command but found that almost all new warriors were being assigned to larger ships in need of crew or to other vessels hastily being constructed to replenish the losses the fleet had suffered in fighting the Borg. The very ship he now stood upon had been at that battle and he was told that it showed the scars incurred in surviving. It had been while discussing that very battle with a former crewmate, that they had suggested he ask Zyrao Natauna if anyone on board would care to assist. Afterall, they were scouting the system in question to procure materials to repair their ship. Materials that the Klingons themselves did not usually use.

"It pays to know the Chancellor and be a member of his house," Ruzaxo thought to himself as he looked around and spied the El-Aurian female standing nearby. Stepping down off the transporter pad, the Klingon captain bowed his head at the woman responsible for acquiring him a replacement crew.

"As requested, I have beamed aboard to meet my replacements," Ruzaxo said curtly. At over 80 years old and with more than half a century of combat experience behind him, he had little use for tardiness. "Not that I see any present. Where are they? I will not have sluggards aboard the Kut'luch."



OOC: [Show/Hide]
Lorad [Show/Hide]
Lt. JG Donna 'Chance' Petterson [Show/Hide]
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Re: Day 11 [0850 hrs.] Welcome Aboard The Kut'luch | Silver Shadows Part 04
Reply #1
[Zyrao Natauna - Klingon Liaison | Time to Shine | Finding the Right People | Time to get Started | Getting Everyone Together]
@Stegro88 @Numen @Zodiac @fiendfall



Zyrao stood there, on the ship, with her hands clasped gently behind her back.  Waiting for everyone, including the Klingon, to come on in.  Grey eyes staring forward though she wasn't really looking at anything specific.  She was just waiting.  This was her first official thing that she had to do as the Theurgy's Liaison.  Finally, she heard the transport beam behind her, though she didn't turn right away, the man could speak to her back for the moment.  She was not just a woman that worked with the Klingon and the Theurgy she was from the Chancellor's house and she wore his badge proudly.  She was still even in her comfortable Klingon uniform.  But, it was the more formal one, with the band across her chest from shoulder to hip and the crest of Martok's house on her chest as well.  Finally, she spun slowly on a booted heel to take in the Klingon that was coming into the ship.  Her eyes studied him for a moment, she had not yet met this one but he had all of the confidence and ego that came with his race.

Her grey eyes sized him up a moment and she gave a bit of a grin as he told her that she hoped she had chosen well.  Furthermore, that none of them having arrived yet.  She chuckled softly and brushed a hand through her short but well cared for hair giving a nod.

"You won't be disappointed." she assured him.  "I have picked the best for you and your mission." she assured him with a shrug of her shoulder.  The glow of another person coming onto the ship, Zyrao gave a grin and  nodded to the spot.

"Here comes one now." she stated.





[Lt. Zephyr Praise | A New Mission | Getting Busy | Not Sure What to Expect | First Official Work of the Theurgy]




The transportation beam, pulled Zephyr from her spot on the Theurgy over to this new ship with a Klingon name she wasn't quite ready to wrap her mouth around.  She stood there a moment getting her bearings in her Science teal.  She had her kit with her, just incase it was necessary, as she wasn't exactly sure what the Klingon vessel would have that she could easily use.  She bit her lower lip as she looked at the two people that were on the Bridge.  One of them, was the one that had requested her appearance here.  Not thought any physical meeting just a message that she had received on her PADD and she had looked into the woman, who was El-Aurian in nature.  But, Zeph didn't mind in the least that she had been asked.  Instead, she found herself getting excited for being asked for something like this.  Because she hadn't expected to be picked for something so quickly. 

Her eyes shifted to the Klingon with a look on his face.  She was glad that her dark eyes were no longer a thing and she had gotten her eyes corrected back to the hazel green that she had before.  She hadn't wanted to lose her full Betazoid heritage, so she had kept that.  She had just wanted her eyes back.  She felt much more herself that way.  Regardless, though, she just wanted to be herself again.  Zeph smiled at the both of them.

"Lieutenant Zephyr Praise, reporting." she told them both.  "Science."  Just incase it wasn't obvious.  She looked around the shuttle and found a spot for herself.  Tucking her kit underneath the console she waited for the others to join them and she knew that they likely would soon.  The Theurgy crew seemed to be the sort that would enjoy getting to go go out and do whatever they could to help the universe.  That was really what had pulled Zeph into the mission herself.

"I am Zyrao Natauna, the Klingon Liaison and this is Captain Ruzaxo." she told Zephyr with her grey eyes piercing through the younger Scientist.  Zeph twisted in her seat and offered them both her friendly and warm smile.

"Pleasure to meet you both, I'm eager to head out." she admitted with an excitement that could only be truly genuine.
Zyrao:
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  • Numen
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  • Awards: Awarded for participation in Part 2 of Episode 05: Courage is Fear. Awarded for participation in Part 1 of Episode 05: Courage is Fear.
Re: Day 11 [0850 hrs.] Welcome Aboard The Kut'luch | Silver Shadows Part 04
Reply #2
[ Khorin, son of Margon, of House Mo'Kai| Transporter Room 03 | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy | Aldea ]
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Khorin raced through the corridors. The unlucky crew members who had the misfortune to cross the running Klingon path either got out of his way or were ruthlessly crushed by his massive figure. There was no ill intention in that attitude, but the pilot's mind was focused on REACHING the transporter room as soon as posible. So centered was in that task that he wasn't fully aware of his surroundings, just of his destination. And, after all, a hundred kilo Klingon wearing the traditional armour and the traditional (and big and noisy) boots was very easy to spot... and consequently to dodge. So if anyone was scatterbrained enough to get in his route, it wasn't the Lone Wolf's fault.

The problem was he was late. Only marginally late, but late after all. And while Khorin had a rather lax approach to regulations and schedules, this time he wanted to give a positive first impression. The KDF liaison had sent him a message, requesting his presence for a mission on a Klingon ship. It hadn't been a proposal, or a suggestion. It had been an order, brief and with no room for refusal. It was neither that Khorin was willing to dodge that mission. Being part of the crew of a good old B'Rel was one of his childhood dreams come true.

At a juncture, a candid crew member had the audacity to stand between Khorin and his target, unaware that her perdition was approaching in the form of a ridged warrior in a rush. The poor human woman was too absorbed in studying one of the Padds she was carrying around, while she held at least another twenty in an unstable balance between her arms. The collision looked like if a targ stepped on an anthill. The padds were blown out of the air. The red-shirted woman tumbled on the floor and received two blunt Klingon stamps on her back. The devices spread around the floor, in a downpour of broken parts and shards of glass. Surprisingly one of the Padds remained intact, thanks in good part to falling right on the head of the unfortunate woman, who hissed in pain. The Lone Wolf, for his part, barely stumbled forward, and kept advancing forward like the force of nature it was. At his back, Cameron groaned in pain.

Unaware of the hit-and-run he had just perpetrated, Khorin accelerated his pace a bit, his strides even wider than usual, leaping over several floorplates every time he performed one. It wasn't as he had wasted time, so he was late. The problem was that the requirement had arrived while he was on a patrol. It was a routine exercise and, if everything had gone as in the previous patrolling, he would have had more than enough time to return to vector two, take a shower, stuff himself in his Klingon civilian clothes and get to the transporter room on time. However, the sensors of one of his Pack fellows had detected something unusual and the Wolf Leader had ordered an exhaustive scan, worrying that it might threaten the Theurgy or their allies. Yet after more than an hour of unsuccessful search in an asteriod field which surrounded one of the system's gas giants, they had decided it was just a sensor error. Or that, whatever they had detected, had left the area. For this reason it was barely fifteen minutes since he had landed his fighter in the FAB and had jumped from the cockpit to go to the locker room as soon as he could, ignoring the reports he had to write and the banter of his fellow pilots.


Due to the limited time available, he had had to prioritize. He had decided to skip the shower, had replicated the same armor type he had worn when he had acted as Commander Stark's escort and had rushed to Transporter Room 3. But, as usual, haste made waste. Klingon armor was supposed to be ready for combat in a blink, but it was bulky, and lumpy and full of pieces that didn't properly fit if you didn't have practice wearing it. And the young Klingon had rarely worn them, so his ability to embed himself in one was far from optimal. So it had taken too long, he had fought with the piece that protected the spine excessively long and had ended up leaving the locker room as he hopped with one leg while he tried to put on one of the heavy, pointed boots in his other foot.

So when he arrived at his destination he was a ragged Klingon, his armor badly adjusted, disheveled and reeking from sweat and a kind of motor oil that had leaked in his cockpit. He could not remember if he had reported this malfunction, but he hoped that one of the technical FAB would notice.

What was not his surprise when he discovered who was waiting for him. The Klingon captain (gray-haired, short-tempered and with grim face) was someone he had expected. However, the liaison was not a Klingon (as he had imagined) but a human-passable woman. A woman with the Martok House brooch over her shoulder. Unconsciously, the pilot's right hand touched the symbol of his own House, which adorned his shoulder. The pin was tilted and misplaced, the same as the silver cord that marked him as someone in the line of succession of the Head of the House, but at least he had remembered to replicate them. Ways were important.

"Lieutenant JG Khorin, son of Margon, of House Mo'Kai, reporting" He bellowed to call the attention of those in the room to himself. To make it clear that, even slightly late, there he was. It was then that he discovered the other person present in the room. Zeph. The pilot was unable to prevent that a wide grin etched in his beared face. A mission among other Klingons was a gift. That same mission together with his Kyamo, was a real delight.



OOC: would be formating later

  • Zodiac
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Re: Day 11 [0850 hrs.] Welcome Aboard The Kut'luch | Silver Shadows Part 04
Reply #3
Lieutenant Junior Grade Zark | Transporter Room 03 | Deck 12 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Stegro88 @BZ @Numen @fiendfall
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Zark ran down the corridor, phaser rifle in hand. "Shit, shit, shit." she cursed in Andorian. She was late and as a Security Officer and a proud Andorian Warrior she prided herself on performing her duty to the best of her ability and as professionally as possible, which included actually being on time for said duty.

She had heard that a Klingon Captain had been looking for volunteers for a mission to go and search for a missing scout ship and had volunteered to go on the mission. She had never been one to turn down a mission if given the opportunity and the appear of seeing what serving on a Klingon ship was an opportunity and experience she wasn't going to turn down. Unfortunately some idiot down in the armoury had forgotten to charge all the phaser rifle power cells, leaving Zark having to frantically search for some charged ones instead of just grabbing some and being on her merry way. At least you noticed they were dead before you went on the mission, that would be far worse. she thought.

Luckily a 5'8 female Andorian wearing Security Gold and carrying a Phaser Rifle wasn't exactly easy to miss, so most people either heard or saw her coming and cleared a path for her, after all if a Security officer was running through the ship with a weapon, surely something must be happen. However as she rounded a corner at high speed, Zark barely managed to register a woman in a red shirt gathering up a bunch of scattered, broken PADD's up off the floor before semi-colliding into her, hearing the poor woman tumble again, the PADD's hitting the floor. "Sorry!" Zark called back while simultaneously not breaking her stride.

Eventually managing to sprint into the Transporter Room, Zark came to a stop just before the transporter pad and took a second to catch her breath before stepping up onto it and giving the Transporter Chief a smile. "One to transport to the Klingon vessel Kut'Luch." she said, watching as the chief programmed the destination. "Ready ma'am."

Taking a moment to double check her rifle, straighten out her uniform and double check to make sure that her Chaka blade was attached at her hip before nodding "Energise."

Beaming onto the Bridge, her glance first went to the Captain and the human looking woman next to him before her gaze shifted over to the large Klingon close to her and one of the Theurgy's science officers, neither of which she knew personally but had recognised from their personnel files, of which every Security Officer had to read in order to know who actually served on the ship and was meant to be there or not in case an intruder ever boarded.

Turning her gaze back to the Klingon Captain, she addressed him "Lieutenant JG XamotZark zh'Ptrell, Security Officer and Combat Medic reporting aboard." she said. "But you can all call me Zark, I know how difficult Andorian names can be for some people to pronounce." she added with a smile.

Re: Day 11 [0850 hrs.] Welcome Aboard The Kut'luch | Silver Shadows Part 04
Reply #4
[ CPO Morgan Song | Transporter Room 03 | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy | Aldea ] Attn: @Stegro88 @BZ @Numen @Zodiac

Morgan hadn't deliberately tried to be late. He had just been caught up with an issue in the heat regulation system for the public baths that had led to people alternately scalding and freezing themselves like they were using an old world shower and not a modern piece of technology. That had taken longer than expected but he hadn't wanted to leave it halfway through for some other technician to try to puzzle out what had and hadn't been done, and there had been no one available to brief properly. He'd just had to get it done as quickly as possible, and then head to his quarters to get changed. Luckily they were meeting on deck 12 so his room was almost on the way, technically.

He hadn't meant to drag his feet, he just kept finding little things that needed doing. He'd meant to be ready a full half hour ago, but here he was, still standing waiting for a turbolift, his newly-acquired civillian clothes feeling strange against his skin. It wasn't that he didn't want to go on this mission -- he could technically have turned it down, after all -- just that he was... apprehensive. The whole stay at Aldea made him nervous, but he had gotten over that with his trip planetside. For a long time, his Klingon crewmates had made him nervous, but he'd reached a point where that was no longer the case as he'd drawn the distinction between 'Klingon' and 'KDF' firmly in his mind. He hoped to draw that same distinction now, between 'KDF' and the specific individuals among them who had murdered his crew, his captain, and tried so very hard to destroy his spirit before they came for his life.

The turbolift felt small when he stepped into it, the crushing weight of thousands of tonnes of rock and ice pressing down above him, the darkness lit only by the glittering fear in the eyes of his fellow prisoners. He pressed himself against the wall and breathed. He hadn't been claustrophobic in a turbolift for almost a year, and he wasn't about to start again now. He'd come a long way. He wouldn't give that up.

He could have turned this assignment down. He clung to that fact. He could have, but he hadn't, because he thought he could handle it. He wanted to be able to handle it. He wanted to grow stronger, he wanted to get ahold of himself, his mind and his prejudices, he wanted to be in control of what he thought and about whom. The B'rel he was to serve on was a test he had set himself. But it was still one he was very much not looking forward to.

The trip down two decks took an age, a lifetime haunted by sounds he knew weren't there, by the people who lived in the back of his mind, the edge of his vision. When he stepped from the turbolift, he dusted them off, making a concerted effort of will to put them back in the box in his head and triple lock it. He could deal with them later; for now he had a duty to perform.

He thought he'd done quite well at distancing himself, actually, making it all the way to the transporter room and reporting in -- 'Chief Petty Officer Song, sir' -- with barely even a tremor in his voice in the face of an unfamiliar and grim-looking Klingon man. But then he caught sight of the woman standing beside him, and a trapdoor opened in his stomach. The Klingon liaison was El-Aurian. Of course she was.

He forced himself to move, joining the others waiting to board the Klingon vessel. His brain felt like it was wading through treacle. He'd known this would be something of a trip down memory lane, that was unavoidable when he was reminded of Rura Penthe at every turn even without KDF officers standing not ten feet from him. He'd just maybe underestimated just how many parallels there would be. El-Aurian. He hadn't seen that one coming.

It wouldn't get in the way of his duty. He wouldn't let it. With any luck, only his sleep would be disturbed.
  • Last Edit: July 07, 2019, 01:11:03 PM by fiendfall
CPO Morgan Song - Engineering - Chief of Maintenance (V2)
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Lt Cmdr Hathev - Counselling - Chief Counsellor
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Ensign Inej Avirim - Security - Investigations Officer
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Re: Day 11 [0850 hrs.] Welcome Aboard The Kut'luch | Silver Shadows Part 04
Reply #5
[ Captain Ruzaxo, son of Balto, of the House of Martok, Captain of the IKS Kut'luch | Transporter Room 03 | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy | Aldea ] Attn: @fiendfall @Numen @BZ @Zodiac @Triage

The first arrival from the transporter behind him, while not feeling him with hope, at least had not dashed it. The female had stepped off the pad, announcing her name as one Zephyr Praise and that she was, at least he assumed, from the Theurgy's science department. Unfortunately, it went all downhill from there as the next arrival was, in a word, disgraceful.

Khorin, son of Margon, of House Mo'Kai was a sorry example for a Klingon in his ill-fitting armour and terrible appearance. And the stench; even from across the room, Ruzaxo could smell the sweat and oil that he could only assume Khorin had bathed in. Sighing, he hoped it couldn't get any worse and that the Klingon would have the sense to keep his mouth shut at his deplorable condition but, no, Khorin bellowed out his arrival with pride. That much he could accept. Despite everything, he still was proud to be Klingon. And that smile to the woman Praise.

"4 days. What can I make of this one in just four days?" Ruzaxo wondered as his next temporary crewman arrived. Or rather crewwoman as the next arrival was another female, and an Andorian. Not that he had anything against Andorians as a species. In his time, he had learnt that every species, even his own, had their own way of behaving and that was what made them unique. And she had a sense of humour this Zark, even if she went against orders and came armed and in uniform. "Another child in need of training."

His fourth recruit entered through the doors to the room a moment later and Ruzaxo wondered if he had been cursed. While the Human male was unarmed and in civilian garb as they had all be directed, his bearing and demeanour clearly showed that he was excessively tense. And that only got worse once he caught sight of Zyrao standing next to him. "This man carries scars from earlier battles. And those scars still affect him strongly even now. Interesting."



[ PO1 Mickayla MacGregor | Conference Room 02 | Deck 07 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy | Aldea ]
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"Why did I even agree to this?" Mickayla asked herself again as she approached the transporter room. When the offer had come through to serve on board a B'rel-class Bird-of-Prey, she had almost dismissed it out of hand. But Khorin had convinced her that it was one way for her to experience life as a Klingon without being overwhelmed by dozens of them. Afterall, a B'rel only had a crew of 12 and there were 4 other Theurgy crew going besides herself.

So, she had agreed and was stepping through the doors to Transporter Room 03 on the Theurgy's second vector when she heard the gruff voice vocalising their apparent displeasure at a range of items. And all of them seemed to be directed at the others participating in the mission organised by the liaison, Zyrao Natauna.

"You are all late. And that will not happen again while you are aboard my ship. If you are not on time for your duty, you will not be on my ship any further. Am I clear?" the Klingon shouted gruffly as he stepped up in front of Zark. "You were told civilian clothes and no energy weapons. You have 3 minutes. Do not waste them."

"Oh, he is a real charmer," Mickayla noted silently from behind the Klingon while being grateful that she had chosen the attire she was wearing at the moment. While she hated being unarmed, orders were orders and the red jacket she was wearing was made from energy dissipating material. It wouldn't stop a shot, but it would weaken it by more than 60%, and that could save her life.

"And you, Khorin, son of Margon," the Klingon said, moving to stand squarely in front of the pilot. "I'm not sure if I should be proud that you believe you should be wearing that armour; or disgraced by the dishonour you are heaping on it by the second. Nevertheless, I have 4 days and I swear to you here and now that I will turn you into something that will not have your entire bloodline banished from Sto'Vo'Kor. What is your name?" the Klingon asked before turning around to look at Mickayla, making it clear who he was asking.

"Mickayla MacGregor, Petty Officer Second Class, Security Department," Mickayla responded easily. "And you are?"

"Ruzaxo, son of Balto, of the House of Martok, Captain of the IKS Kut'luch," the gruff Klingon replied, eyeing her off. Mickayla wondered what he would say to her, but nothing came as the captain stepped back up onto the transporter pad. "MacGregor, Song, come with me. The rest of you be aboard in 5 minutes." Mickayla wasted no time in moving onto the pad as directed and once the three of them were positioned, Ruzaxo barked out his next command. "Energise."

The bright lights of the Theurgy were replaced with the dim, darkened demeanour of the Klingon ship as the captain led them off the 4-pad transport deck. Mickayla's doubts had returned doubled fold and she was wondering if it was too late to back out.

"Chief Song, while we wait for the others, can you tell me about your engineering experience?" Ruzaxo asked.



In a corridor near the Transporter Room, the woman that Khorin had knocked to the ground was trying to gather herself when an unnaturally deep voice spoke up.

"May I help you? Are you alright?"



OOC: Alrighty, lets get this show on the road.
If everyone could end their next posts on board the Kut'luch that would be awesome. Personally, it is going to be fun reading the reactions to what Ruzaxo has said.

@BZ ,if Zyrao could let Zephyr know that she will be the senior officer aboard that would be great. Otherwise, have at it.
  • Last Edit: July 09, 2019, 09:00:14 AM by Stegro88
Lorad [Show/Hide]
Lt. JG Donna 'Chance' Petterson [Show/Hide]
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Re: Day 11 [0850 hrs.] Welcome Aboard The Kut'luch | Silver Shadows Part 04
Reply #6
Lieutenant Junior Grade Zark | Transporter Room 03 | Deck 12 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Stegro88 @BZ @Numen @fiendfall
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Zark felt the heat rise to her skin, which as an Andorian was really saying something at the Captain's words to her. How could she have been so stupid? No energy weapon and no uniform and she'd brought both. Stupid. "Sorry sir." she said, feeling her anttennae flatting against her head in embarrassment before quickly turned on her heel and walking out of the room.

Well that was a great first impression! Way to go Zark. She thought to herself as she left the room, immediately taking off into another sprint down the corridor. She had 3 minutes to get changed and back to the ship before it left without her. Continuing her journey down the corridors, she managed to avoid running over the red shirted woman again luckily as she weaved through various crew members and into the Turbolift.

Barreling out of it as soon as the doors opened she made her way to her quarters, already starting to work on removing her clothes a few paces before her door, already having her jacket and hopping from foot to foot as she worked on her boots. Tumbling off balance into her quarters, she threw her jacket onto her couch as well as her boots while crossing the room into her bedroom. Pulling her under shirt off over her head, she tossed it onto the bed and started working on her belt, quickly sliding it through all the hooks and dis-guarding it along with her pants after pulling them off and grabbed the first civilian clothes she could lay her hands on.

Her attire ending up consisting of all black with a black leather jacket, tank top, pants and boots. She knew her Chaka blade would be acceptable so she reattached that to her hip and grabbed her phaser rifle, cursing at the fact she probably wouldn't have time to return it to the armoury and make it back to the ship in time, not unless she either beamed the rifle to the armoury or herself from the armoury to the ship.

Taking off into another sprint, she headed for the turbolift and bumped into yet another crew member, forcing both of them to tumbled to the ground. This one a dark haired female [bp"Oh god I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" she said quickly, noticing that somehow in their collision her rifle had ended up in the other woman's lap. "Ooh could you take that back to the armoury for me please? I'm just in a rush for a mission and I don't have time. Please!" Zark added as she took off into another sprint and practically dived into the Turbolift. "Thank you!" She called out as the doors closed.

"Ooof!" Alessia choked out as the blue skinned Andorian crashed into her, sending her to the ground. Before the Lone Wolf could say or do much, the Andorian was asking her to take a rifle back the armoury and saying something about being late. "Well I...Wha...?" the Spaniard managed to get out in confusion, but the other woman was already in the turbolift yelling a thank you at her. Glancing down at the rifle, Alessia shrugged "Well I guess I'm going to the armoury then." she muttered as she pushed herself up and picked up the rifle, shaking her head at the weird encounter, knowing she'd have to track down that Andorian later, even if it was just to introduce herself.

Sprinting down the corridors yet again, Zark bounded into the transporter room gasping for breath, doubling over with her hands on her knees on the transporter pad.

"To the IKS Kut'luch Ma'am?" The transporter chief asked her. With a nod and a thumbs up to the chief, she felt the familiar tingle of the transport being and soon found herself standing in a darker room, looking down at a much rustier floor than the pad she had just been standing on. Standing up straight, Zark made her way to the bridge.

Stopping just outside the door to the bridge, Zark took a moment to gather the last of her breath back and calm herself. "OK just be calm, play it cool, you'll be fine." she said to herself before stepping forward onto the bridge. Spotting the Captain standing to one side, she confidantly strode over to him.

"I'm sorry about that Captain, it won't happen again. What do you need me to do?" She asked, figuring the sooner she could be put to work doing something, anything the better it would be.


OOC: Thanks to @Revan for letting me have Zark bump into Alessia and for writing that paragraph for me :)
  • Last Edit: July 08, 2019, 11:16:26 PM by Zodiac

Re: Day 11 [0850 hrs.] Welcome Aboard The Kut'luch | Silver Shadows Part 04
Reply #7
[ Ens. Cameron Henshaw | Doormat Extraordinaire | Bootprints on the uniform is the new rage | We have Encierro on board? | Cammy Wanna Doctor ] Attn: @Stegro88, @Numen & @Zodiac
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She heard someone telling her to watch out, but between juggling about twenty PADDs in her arms and actually trying to read one simultaneously, she barely had any ability left to mind the path she walked, let alone keeping an eye out for onrushing traffic. On a Federation vessel, there was this thing called conduct and behaviour. All Starfleet officers had it in spades. So she wasn't likely to crash into anyone (so she believed firmly and no one could tell her different). She had conveniently forgotten however that throughout most of her academy years, one Vanya was often present to pull her away from the worst of many collisions. It wasn't that Cameron was ungrateful or so arrogant as to think she would have been fine without assistance, but rather more of the simple fact that Cameron Henshaw was the most oblivious human being in the history of the universe.

The irony was that she was a counselor.

Today, without Vanya nearby, and no one else for that matter that knew Cam's tendencies, the petite brunette found herself on the receiving end of the Khorin Wrecking Ball Express. It should be noted that this was actually not the first time that Khorin had overrun the girl, nor was it likely to be the last, barring her untimely demise, which might be the direct result of being stepped on one time too many by the Klingon. PADDs flew everywhere, except for one that by a stroke of fortune landed right in an outstretched palm. She propped herself up with her arms still in a prone position to quickly look up and identify her attacker. An involuntary groan exited her throat even as onlookers watched her sympathetically, but they stayed out of the way for a reason.

And instant later, she was kissing the floor again as this time a woman overran her, though she at least had the courtesy to apologize. Cameron stayed down for a moment, just in case a few more people decided to step on her, until she realized how stupid an idea that was to wait for more tramplers. She wondered idly when did the ship allow Taurans on board, because that was what had to have overrun her, ignoring that she stood at the total height of five feet, four inches and weighed around a hundred and ten pounds. Clutching the only remaining intact PADD in a hand as she struggled to her feet, she yelped when a deep voice sounded nearby, and she lost both the PADD and her footing as she twisted her body to face the source of the voice.

Looking foolishly up at the Reman where she sat, Cam sighed and reached out to be hoisted up, "Yes," she said weakly, "either the sickbay, or the nearest airlock, doesn't matter which."

She let herself be led away, abandoning all the PADDs. Thea can bloody well beam them to her quarters, something she should have asked for in the first place!
  • Last Edit: July 10, 2019, 12:53:29 AM by Triage

Re: Day 11 [0850 hrs.] Welcome Aboard The Kut'luch | Silver Shadows Part 04
Reply #8
[ CPO Morgan Song | Transporter Room 03 | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy | Aldea ] Attn: @Stegro88 @BZ @Numen @Zodiac

The Klingon who was going to be their temporary captain was very large, very loud, and very unhappy. His voice blared out stridently in the small space of the transporter room, making his disapproval known without beating about the bush. To be fair, he did have a reason to be angry at them: they'd been late almost to a man, and arrived in varying states of dishevelment. Morgan had somehow managed to be one of the better-dressed among them, in his simple trousers and light shirt under soft woollen jumper -- a minor miracle considering how rushed he had been in getting ready.

He was weakly relieved that his relative neatness spared him Ruzaxo's anger, which seemed mostly directed at the Andorian from Security and the other Klingon man, Khorin. Morgan's height meant he had trouble fading into the background in most situations, and it was impossible for him to make himself small enough for notice to pass over him just by slouching or drawing into himself. That didn't mean he wouldn't try -- he wore his height at best apologetically, at worst like an uncomfortable weight -- but he managed to fight off the urge to duck his head in the face of Ruzaxo's bellowing. It wasn't him the anger was aimed at -- not mostly, anyway -- so he was safe, at least for now.

The downside to this quickly made itself apparent, as he was one of the two people Ruzaxo called to board the Kut'luch first. Wonderful! Great, fabulous, good. Just what he'd wanted. Better than being yelled at, certainly, but he'd hoped to have some kind of... not backup, but maybe moral support? As it was it'd be just him and two Klingons and while he knew the woman from Security would be fine, surely, she wasn't someone he was familiar with, not someone he'd ever met, and so the small comfort of knowing she was at least Starfleet paled in comparison with the sheer number of unknowns the trip to the Kut'luch represented.

Heavens, look at him. A Chief, and here he was, nervous as a recruit on their first day. This kind of thing was exactly why he was here. He had to be able to do his job, no matter what; so he'd just have to get on and do it.

He stepped up to the transporter plate with set jaw. A brief moment and the call to energise later, and Morgan found himself squinting in the dim light of the IKS Kut'luch. There was almost a hatching pattern to the light on the floor as it came through grating in the ceiling, a reddish tinge to much of it. He'd forgotten that, he realised idly. How much else had he forgotten?

Ruzaxo stepped down from the transporter pad loudly, and Morgan shook himself. Not right now. He was so caught up in his own head he almost missed the captain's question -- almost. Dragging himself back together, he answered as professionally as he could manage: 'Trained as an engineer at the Technical Services Academy, then spent seven years active duty on three vessels.' With a brief sabbatical in the middle, of course.

His actual experience was more difficult to distill. He'd never worked on a Klingon ship, of course; he barely knew anything about them besides what he'd studied (half a lifetime ago now). His only first-hand experience had been brief and uninformative; it'd mostly told him about their firepower and their brig. Then again, he'd served on enough ships to know they were all broadly alike, and he knew the kinds of mechanical differences that were likely to occur as well as the rough strokes of Klingon vessel design.

He'd also built a fully-functioning transponder from nothing but the scraps he could steal, but that wasn't exactly relevant, and in any case, he didn't trust himself to get the words out in one piece.

'I know my way around a ship, sir,' he said instead, 'and though I'm no officer I can deal with most day-to-day issues just fine. The Theurgy's put me through my paces.'

Overall, the engineering side of this assignment wasn't something he really expected to be an issue; he hoped that wasn't complacency or pride speaking.
CPO Morgan Song - Engineering - Chief of Maintenance (V2)
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Lt Cmdr Hathev - Counselling - Chief Counsellor
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Ensign Inej Avirim - Security - Investigations Officer
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  • Numen
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  • " I'm trying to make science here!"
  • Awards: Awarded for participation in Part 2 of Episode 05: Courage is Fear. Awarded for participation in Part 1 of Episode 05: Courage is Fear.
Re: Day 11 [0850 hrs.] Welcome Aboard The Kut'luch | Silver Shadows Part 04
Reply #9
[ Khorin, son of Margon, of House Mo'Kai| Transporter Room 03 | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy | Aldea ]
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As soon as all crew arrived at the transport room, the captain, Ruzaxo, began to bark orders. It sounded like his Home, and Khorin barely managed to hide his enthusiasm as he listened. He even didn't care how disappointed the captain was at how late everyone had arrived. With the exception of Zeph, of course. Because his Kyamo was only perfect in his eyes. But that enthusiasm was smashed when the old Klingon addressed him. The gray-haired man stood in front of him, an impeccable martial posture and the expression of one who has dealt with too many rookies in his life to be willing to babysit another one. Under the scrutiny of the captain's eyes, Khorin stiffened even more, squaring his shoulders and puffing his broad chest. Then, Ruzaxo's words were like a blow in his jaw. Khorin protruded his lower jaw forward, exposing his teeth and bristling his hirsute beard. The pilot could accept criticism towards his own person, but insults towards his House and his ancestors? Never.

"My ancestors have a special spot in Sto-Vo-Kor, as my House has always brought honor and glory to the Empire," he grunted, staring defiantly at the aged Klingon, with the insolence of one who has his honour called into question. After all, in his lineage there were Chancellors, and his own grandfather still occupied a seat on the High Council. His own father had died in the Battle of Mempa, in that battle in which Martok had gone from being a plebeian upstart to become an Empire hero. Khorin was unwilling for a commoner with delusions of grandeur dared to insult his father reputation. "I'll show you why we Mo'Kai have maintained our position among the Great Houses for centuries... and why our name is pronounced with respect." He snarled. He didn't mean to threaten his new superior. But he didn't boast either. Well, not too much. He would show that pretentious old fellow that he was as entitled as he was to be dressed in that armour. If not even more.

However, Khorin did not even have time to check whether his bravado had achieved its intended effect, as the captain had soon shifted his attention to MacGregor. For his part, the young Klingon remained in place until Ruzaxo, Mickayla and that lanky human who had introduced himself as Song were all transported to the IKS Kut'luch. The lone Wolf remained there for a minute, with clenched fists shaking on his sides, trying to suppress the desire to punch the pretentious old man and take over the captaincy of the ship in a pretty Klingon way. Khorin knew it would be a stupid move and would do little good, neither to him, nor to the Theurgy, nor to the KDF, nor to the Federation by extension. However, although his biochemical imbalance was almost solved, Khorin was a Klingon, passionate and proud, and Ruzaxo had struck right into a vulnerable point. Worse still. He had humiliated him and his family in front of his woman.

When the Andorian left the room in a hurry, ready to carry out the instructions she had been given, Khorin turned to look at Zephyr, exploiting the momentary privacy of the transporter room. He stared a her, all sad puppy eyes now that no one else could see him. "Kyamo, you can lend me a hand to fit this," he muttered pitifully, as he tightened the parts of his armor which were more reachable. There was little he could do with the stink of sweat and oil he carried around, he had no time for a shower. As he straightened his house badge on his arm, Khorin felt a stare over him. As he raised his eyes he found the colourless eyes of the Liaison who stared him in silence.



Kyamo: Beautiful, endaring term

OOC:

@BZ feel free to move the big oaf to the B'Rel :)

Re: Day 11 [0850 hrs.] Welcome Aboard The Kut'luch | Silver Shadows Part 04
Reply #10
[Zyrao Natauna | The Stragglers | Allergic to Punctuality | Try to Pick the Best, and Only One Manages in a Timely and Professional Manner | Everyone Needs Training]
@fiendfall @Numen @Stegro88 @Zodiac @Triage




Zyrao fought the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose as the people began to filter in.  She had not actually spoken with these people, or did more than explore the amount of background and history she could get on them.  When they were deemed good enough to move onto her second round of choosing she found that she could narrow down the list by talking to the Department Heads and figuring out who these people were.  Praise had been the hardest to place, as she was new to the ship and her Jacket had many holes in her history, she had found that the warm hearted and extremely loyal women might be the perfect fight for a place like this.  She had only later found out, after she had finished picking out the people she wanted for this mission, that Praise and the Klingon were an item.  Still, she hoped that they could work around their relationship, this would prove if they could once and for all.  Which was a good test for when she needed people later while doing work for the Theurgy.

Zyrao stood there for a long moment as Ruzaxo began to berate the officers for showing up without the proper dress code and supplies.  Again, she fought the urge to treat them like children, the Klingon had already done that.  When her eyes landed on the late Klingon being berated before her eyes she could tell that the Science officer, was ready to jump down the man's throat.  Zyrao splayed out a hand to the young Betazoid because there was no reason to make this more uncomfortable or more of an issue.  Klingon were the way they were, and confrontation was something that would happen largely around someone that wasn't seen in the right light.


[Lt. Zephyr Praise | Where Was The Dresscode Memo? | I Didn't Get It | Rough Start | Don't you DARE yell at MY Klingon!]





She would never mistake that voice, as he came through the teleporter and decided to make himself known, Zephyr could only smile up at him.  Eyes shimmering that light that only came for him.  He was something else, he was larger than life, and sweet, and kind, and tough, and amazing.  He was so many things and Zephyr was overly glad that they had been able to be together.  Meeting on the Versant had been fate, for the lack of a better word, things had just worked out for them and she found that he was a missing piece for her.  There were others that came in as well, and she noticed that the El-Aurian on board was ready to throw in the towel and the Klingon next to her was getting more angry by the moment as people showed up late. 

As Khorin came over closer to her, her nose wrinkled. 

"You didn't even have time to shower?" she whispered underneath her breath and gave a sigh, what was she going to do with this man.  How did he even take care of himself before she came along?  She had no damn idea how he didn't roll over in his own stench and snack wrappers every day.

The Klingon began to speak about how they were told not to show up in uniform and not to have weapons.  Zeph rose her brow, because she prided herself on following rules and directions and yet somehow couldn't remember it ever being said not to show up in her uniform.  Perhaps she had missed that, living with Khorin was like living with a child perpetually existing on a diet of steady sugar intake, caffeine, and loud movies.  Nothing he did was quiet and she was still training him to be clean, because the man shed things all over the Quarters.  Wet towels in the shower, hair grit in the sink, a smear of sonic tooth cleaning tablets somehow always ended up somewhere.  Then there were his clothes, as soon as he was done with his day he stepped into the Quarters and there was a habitual shedding of the clothes.  Not in one pile that could easily be disposed of, but as he walked, so there was a steady trail of clothing as he worked his way to the back because he was told he would take a shower daily upon returning home or else.  He didn't want to know the 'else' part. 

Good man.

Speaking of her man, to her man as though he was not a good one, as though he was not a good Klingon.  The fact that he was loudly and in public disrespecting her boyfriend and mate made her want to beat his face in.  She could feel the muscles in her body tightening and the thought of launching across the deck and punching him in the face so every time he blinked he would remember that Zephyr FUCKING Praise had done that to him in defense of her man, but then she saw a motion from the El-Aurian telling her to calm down, and Zeph gave her a look that would kill a lesser man.  But, the El-Aurian seemed to take it in stride.

They had three minutes to get themselves together, and then get onto the ship.  Zeph sighed and turned as she headed to the replicator close by and got herself some street clothes.  She dressed quickly just behind a small corner so that she couldn't be seen.  She didnt need Khorin going on a rampage because someone might have seen something they shouldn't have.  But, she came back out quickly and she met the eyes of the El-Aurian having felt her needing to speak.  The tall and some what intimidating woman motioned her over.  She was currently wearing a pair of jeans and a black tank top that showed the tons of tattoos and hints of scars all over her body.  Hard life. Zeph thought as she headed over. 

"You need to know that you are the superior and most highest ranking officer on the mission today."  Zyrao said calmly.

"What?  Bu-"

Zyrao held her hand to cut off Zephyr's phrases.  "You can do it.  I've read what I can of your jacket, I know you're not the little flower that most people think you are.  You can fight, and you have a lot of abilities.  Find your steel core, and do what needs to be done."

Zeph swallowed and gave a nod.  Straightening her shoulders she gave another nod.  "Right, thanks." she headed for the transport beam so that she could get up on the ship however Khorin stopped her and she realized they were the only two left now, aside from Zyrao.  He pulled her to the side and asked for her help on fixing his armor.  The softness of his voice, those sweet unsure little eyes, they melted her heart.  She reached up and cupped his cheek for a moment.  "Don't forget who you are in your heart of hearts.  Ill fitted armor or not, you are a Klingon in your center.  More than Klingon you are mine, my Imzadi, and you are.. chosen." she smiled softly.

Zeph stepped behind him and began helping him fix his armor with quick and fast fingers.  Getting it better fitting and it looked a whole lot sharper.  Once they were finished she pecked him softly on the very tip of his nose and they headed up the transporter together.

Zyrao:
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Eun Sae Ji
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Blue Tiran:
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Zephyr:
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