Skip to main content ↑ ↓
Recent Posts
1
Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: Day 15 [0823 hrs] Starships Aplenty
Last post by Pierce -
Ensign Lauren Pierce | Holodeck 03 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @tongieboi [Show/Hide]

Lauren enjoyed getting the time to pilot an old starship like this. She only hoped that someday she'd get the chance to do it for real.

Her mind racing as she thought about the possibilities and the authenticity that the holodeck provided despite the fact it wasn't actually real.

A chirp hit her combadge and it was a reminder that she had duty coming up.

"Oh..." She groaned, "I'm going to have to take a raincheck on further explorations Joe. I forgot I have duty shift coming up and have to get to the bridge."

She smiled wryly as she placed the duty uniform back on the rack. "Check ya later!" She ran for the door as she was already running late. Before fully exiting she turned back to him. "This was fun! We'll have to do it again sometime." She winked at him before exiting the holodeck.

OOC: Sorry for the delay in response. Just getting time to catch up but it can be 'FIN' in the next post or here and be sufficient.
2
Director's Cut / Re: [2381 - USS Theurgy] - PRO: S [D01|0533] A Day In The Life
Last post by Pierce -
[ Lt. Commander Alana Pierce | Pierce's Quarters | Department Head Officer’s Quarters | Deck 10 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] Attn:
[Show/Hide]

"One moment."

Alana’s breath came in ragged gasps as she tried to calm herself down. The knock on the door had startled her, but it was the realization of how loud she had been that truly shook her. She could hear the faint hum of the ship’s engine through the walls, a constant reminder of where she was and what she needed to do. She forced herself to take deep breaths, trying to steady her racing heart.

She quickly rinsed off the soap from her body, her hands trembling slightly as she did so. The water cascaded down her curves, highlighting every contour of her transformed form. Her large breasts rose and fell with each breath, water droplets clinging to her skin like crystalline teardrops. She shivered, not from cold, but from the lingering sensation of her recent climax.

After emptying the water, Alana stepped out of the tub, water still streaming down her legs and pooling at her feet. She grabbed a plush towel from the rack and dried herself off, her mind still reeling from the encounter. Her fingers moved with practiced ease over her body, patting dry her damp skin. She avoided looking at her reflection in the mirror, not yet ready to face the reality of her recent experimentations.

She wrapped the towel securely around her, tucking it under her arms to keep it firmly in place. The fabric was soft against her skin, a comforting contrast to the slick, cool feel of the tile floor beneath her feet. She took a moment to compose herself before stepping out of the bathroom and into her living quarters.

The room was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the replicator. She glanced at the clock on the wall; she still had some time before her breakfast meeting. She walked over to the replicator and ordered a fresh uniform, opting for something simple and comfortable. As the replicator whirred to life, she turned her attention to the makeup station. She applied a light foundation, just enough to even out her complexion without looking overly done up since she despised the concept of makeup.

Once she was dressed, she stood in front of the full-length mirror, examining her appearance. The dark Starfleet uniform fit her well, accentuating her curves without being too tight. Her crimson hair, though still damp, framed her face beautifully. She took a deep breath, feeling a sense of determination wash over her. She was ready now for her visitor.

But then, the intercom chimed again, this time more insistently. "Commander Pierce, are you alright in there?" Lauren's voice was tinged with concern, a tone that only added to Alana's growing anxiety. She hesitated for a moment before responding.

"I'm fine, Lauren. Just... running a bit late this morning. I'll be there in a moment." Her voice was steady, but she could hear the tension in her own words despite the lie. She took another deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering effects of her earlier activities.

As she waited for Lauren to respond, she noticed the slight tremble in her hands. She clenched them into fists, forcing herself to remain composed. The last thing she needed was for her great-granddaughter to sense her turmoil.

Lauren's voice came through the intercom again, softer this time. "Okay, Grandma. We'll wait for you in the mess hall. Take your time."

Alana sighed with relief. At least Lauren hadn't pressed further. She quickly finished her preparations, grabbing her communicator and PADD before heading out the door. The corridor outside was quiet, the usual bustle of the ship subdued at this early hour. She made her way towards the mess hall, her mind racing with thoughts of how to explain her behavior—or if she should say anything at all.

As she approached the entrance to the mess hall, she spotted Lauren and Reggie already seated at a table. Lauren looked up and waved, a warm smile spreading across her face. Reggie, on the other hand, gave her a curious glance, her eyes sharp and assessing.

Alana forced a smile of her own and walked over to the table. "Good morning," she greeted, taking a seat next to Lauren. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but she kept her composure, focusing on the conversation rather than her internal turmoil.


Continued in PRO: S [D01|0715] A Thankful Breakfast for Three

AFTERWARDS...

The doors to the lift slid open, and Pierce stepped inside, the atmosphere shifting slightly as the doors closed behind her. As the lift began its ascent, Alana couldn’t shake the feeling that her secrets were slipping through her fingers, even as she held onto them for dear life.

She pondered the upcoming briefing. The lift dinged softly as she arrived at her destination, the doors sliding open to reveal the bustling conference room. Alana stepped out, her mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead—both in the briefing and in her personal struggles.

As she stepped towards the meeting room, she felt the weight of her life's direction on her back, but she realized that she wasn’t as alone as she felt which brought her a glimmer of comfort. But that was shortlived as she muttered to herself waiting for the events to unfold that she was partially privvy to. "Let’s go."

-FIN
3
Parallel Universes - "What if?" / Re: [2376] Entanglement of Chaos
Last post by RyeTanker -
[Ensign XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Ens. Zark) | Federation Embassy Compound | Cardassia Prime] Attn: @Ellen Fitz

It was a sign of how used to the situation Zark was becoming that she stopped struggling, and even generally stopped thinking about the fact she was completely exposed and being played with by like a naked drum.  There were certainly some upsides to having her infuriatingly lovely wife talk about technical details as a distraction.  She took the time to absorb the details of the games, but mainly also the other threats the group of rogues, herself included, were likely to face inside the casino.  The fact that Nausicaans were going to be in the area was definitely cause for concern, but so were the other assorted thugs everyone was going to bring in order to keep the peace through intimidation.  As the smallest person there, she was keenly aware that any attempt to escape the situation was probably going to involve not getting into a fight, but more quick wits and speed.  Maybe some misdirection if at all possible. 

The naked Zhen's ruminations were stopped as she heard the cuffs unlock themselves and she turned an inquisitive glace back to her wife.  "You need to be mobile for this dear." was all she said as she tapped the area just above the Zhen's exposed nethers before extricating herself from the warm weight under Zark's legs and moved towards her luggage.  Zark's cheeks darkened appropriately as she squirmed, all thoughts of having gotten used to the situation fleeing her mind. The Zhen sat up slowly on her elbows and moved as nonchalantly as possible to where she kept a robe to cover herself.  Ryzit bent over to place a mini holoprojector in the middle of the room, then pulled an Andorian style PADD out to begin uploading the programming.  "Computer, dim lights to 20%"  The room darkened accordingly and a holo wireframe of a building sprung to life.  "What do you think babe?"  Ryzit asked as Zark's eyes settled on the projection and her mind began to work on the security implications.

Zark wound the robe tightly around her body as she moved towards the hologram and began looking at it more intently. "Well, there are plenty of entrances and exits..."  Her hands rose towards the projection and began waving in the air.  The projector obediently followed her guide and the wireframe twisted and turned, expanded and shrunk.  Fingers would occasionally point at something as the frame surrounded her and the item would be highlighted, leading to other junctions, hallways, ventilation shafts.  It took a few more minutes before the security officer spoke again. "The easiest way out would be the front door in a throng, that way we can blend in with everyone."  A pause for a moment.  "The main issue is that it's hard to guarantee physical security since there's practically infinite threat vectors from too close, so we could all get killed and I'd never see them coming."  Zark tilted her head for a moment as a grin tugged at her lips.  "On the other hand, if there was a distraction of some sort, let's say a couple of smoke canisters, that would give good concealment for escaping."

Other options began popping up, escape through the kitchens, out the loading docks, transporting out.  As these ideas were trotted out, Zark shrunk the hologram and pulled it up to the top of the building.  A small smile tinged with mischief pulled her lips.  "Hun, you're not planning on staying next to Enyd the whole night are you?"  The cop shook her head. "Not at all. I have to figure out where the gold is being stored and tag." Zark nodded. "How about a small detour?"  Ryzit's antennae pointed towards her wife as her eyes narrowed. "I'm not you miss flexible."  The Shen pointed out. "I know. I'm not going to get you to any sort of acrobatics I do, but it doesn't hurt to have a backup plan.  You're also going to have to tell me how you actually plan on getting the gold out."  Zark tapped a long finger on her chin in thought.  "If we can get to the roof, I think we have a good way to get out.  At least somewhere where transporter inhibitors can't stop us."  The Zhen then turned to Enyd. "It would help if we had some back up.  What do you think of the escape vectors, and do you think Javec will be able to help there."  Zark asked her human as a grin tugged significantly at one corner of her mouth while white eye brows bobbed with a bawdy edge.
5
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Ch 5 S [D01|1800] Off Duty, On Duty...It's Complicated
Last post by Pierce -
[ Lt. JG Ashley Kerina | Krocton Segment | Ki Baratan | Romulus | Romulan Star Empire ] Attn:  [Show/Hide]

Sometime later...

Hours after Ambassador Spock spoke with Ashley, she learned that things were difficult on Romulus and that she would likely run into issues. The political air was dicey at best with the Federation seemingly at odds with the Romulan Empire and the Republic. Bidding him farewell, she embarked on her mission to discover more about her parents, however, she wasn't expecting what came soon thereafter.

It seemed like hours since Ashley walked to learn more about her parents with the living legend before her. She was in awe of the things she'd read from this man and wished she'd get more time to pick his brain, but now was not that time. He had given her all his information about their past dealings and how they had been watching her from afar for years, keeping tabs on her life and the changes she'd encountered. Realizing that her life was not to be easy with the hybrid physiology. The information that followed was not what she had wanted to hear from the ancient Vulcan male.

She remembered back to the scene with Spock before he took leave of her. "Unfortunately, I do not know where your parents presently are, or if they are still alive." He furrowed his Vulcan brows as he pondered the logic of the situation. "It has been some time since we last spoke. If I hear anything, I will undoubtedly run into you again. But for now, Live Long, and Prosper." The man finished giving the Vulcan salute before departing through a cavern to his shuttle.

The feeling of awe finished washing over her when she realized that while she learned some backstory of her parents, she was no closer to finding them than she had been before her visit. Decidedly, she left the movement's underground headquarters and proceeded to head to the capital city on foot. In the very slightest, she would gain an appreciation for the home she never knew.

Having been tailed by the Tal Shiar, she managed to gather some intel, but that intel was not of her parents but of a secret communique of Starfleet operatives entangled in some mess. She wasn't sure what it was all about as she traversed the various locations, streets, and shops looking for data. The more she looked for her parents, the more she uncovered of the rumblings of undercover operatives and plots she couldn't quite understand, given the clandestine nature of them all.

Thinking she'd dodged the operatives, she proceeded into the capitol to look for records on her father, but before she could get near, she was captured. A hand came up behind her and used some sort of hypospray on her neck as she began to lose consciousness. The last thing she heard was the sound of a male's voice saying they think they caught one before she blacked out.

-FIN

OOC: Continued in joint post when she is in the cage with Alana.
6
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / CH 2.3 Taking a Breath.
Last post by Number6 -
[ Lt. Vanya | Guest Quarterrs | Vector 2 | Deck 16 |

Vanya looked down at the young girl.   She estimated that she couldn’t be older than 18 or 19.    Between arrival and return to the ship, the girl had become withdrawn.    The android wondered if the enormity of what she had done – helping her escape – was beginning to set in on her.    She sat cross legged on the cot in the assigned quarters.    It was strange, in her life people could be but into three distinct categories.     Authority figures, potential mates and enemies.    Usually most of the first category became the third.   But Vanya was getting something else from this interaction in the short time they had worked together.   She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she suddenly felt a need to see that this girl was comfortable.  

“Computer.   Access diplomatic protocols, set room for Romulan comfort levels.”   The lights changed to a more Romulan scheme.    For the first time in the 10 or 15 minutes since she had been there the girl began to relax.  

“Are you hungry?” Vanya asked

The guest nodded.   Vanya walked over to the replicator. 

“I have a few dishes that I have tried to make for my friends.”    Vanya said.   “Although it’s a machine using a machine to create a meal.   There may be some pattern degradation.”   She looked over from the replicator, but the girl clearly didn’t get the joke.  She inputted commands from her database, and the machine started to create the food.    A simple soup, plus a confection that was analogous to Earth cookies, along with a simple fruit juice. 

Immediately the girl started to wolf down the cookies.  

“Computer.”  Commanded Vanya “Play Otara.”  A pulse pounding ballard began to play. 

“Otara?    My grandmother listened to them.” Said the guest. 

“Well…” Vanya said.  “The Federation Database isn’t up to date on Romulan music.”  

“Surely there were Federation recording devices present at the festival of Chintoka?    Tessik performed a great set there.”  

The festival of Chintoka was a brief diplomatic function for the soldiers of Federation, Klingon, Romulan and Cardassian soldiers after the Dominion war.    Vanya gave the appropriate commands and a young folksy male sang in Romulan some of the most non sensical lyrics Vanya had ever heard.    The girl began to sway.  

“What’s going to happen to me?” she asked. 

“It depends.”   Vanya said.   “We can’t exactly lock you up.     Though I don’t even know your name.” 

“T’Set.” The Girl said.  

“Well T’Set.” Vanya said.   “We might be able to pull some favours with the Klingons, or some other free port.”

“You won’t kill me?” she asked.  

Vanya shook her head.  “I dislike killing.” The android said.     “You saved my life.   That deserves respect.” 

After a few minutes of thoughtful silence, Vanya stood up.   “I should get back to duty.   I can’t promise you the moon.    But whatever I can do to help.    I will.    Tell the security guard if you need anything, and he will know to call me.   ” 

Vanya turned and headed for the door.   “Hey.”   T’Set called.  Vanya turned to face her.    

“My… masters…. They said that you’re a demon.    That you offer temptation and corruption and bring great destruction.   That’s false right?” 

Vanya chuckled.   “Temptation and Corruption?   I call that Friday,    Great destruction?   Fridays if anyone hurts the people I love.” 
7
Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: Day 10 [1326] Chaos in the Clouds of Qo'Nos
Last post by Eden -
[ Lt. JG Callax Valin | Mekro'vak Region | Qo'noS ] Attn: @Ellen Fitz
[Show/Hide]
Cal's impact upon the table was a much more comfortable affair than he reckoned Enyd's was. Did he feel guilty for smashing her into a table laden with sharp objects and other brutal Klingon accoutrement? Perhaps. But he was not to one to back down from a challenge once it was issued. Especially if there was an audience and indeed an audience there was.

His determination to win was not born of any sense of masculine superiority. No, it was purely the sin of pride. Most every culture had some warning in their mythology about the pitfalls of hubris including in Cal's own Ardanan myths. Those philosopher were dead though and Cal was alive. Despite all the aches and pains of the day's events he was alive. Even better than being alive was the fact that he was about to win.

Clenched tightly within his mouth was Enyd's ribbon. Raising a fist to the sky in victory, the cocky pilot rolled his cock (and body) off Enyd and stumbled to his feet not noticing that his ribbon, too, had been claimed. If improvised Klingon ribbon wrestling had VAR, this would be one of those times when it was necessary to determine the true victor given how close the competition was. Perhaps there was something to be said about showmanship, however, as the Klingons drunkenly cheered and jeered at Cal.

Whatever joy from the perceived victory there was was quickly dashed when Cal glanced down at his Starfleet comrade. Lines of crimson liquid from the impact cuts and penetrations formed tiny pools of blood on the table. The pilot winced, abruptly letting the ribbon fall to the floor as he leaned down to offer Enyd assistance in getting up.

"Are you okay?" He asked with a concerned voice that was nearly drowned out by the chorus of voices returning to their merrymaking. "Those cuts look a bit deep. We should return to the shi-"

"A close victory!" Rik'evet's voice proudly proclaimed as the Klingon approached the pair of Starfleet officers. "As promised, a token to the victor for indulging in this clan tradition." From his belt, the Klingon unhooked a rather ornate looking mek'leth and held it out for Cal to take. "This is no clan heirloom or artifact but it is well forged and will keep its blade longer than any pathetic Starfleet imitation. Now mate well else your companion here will be justified in using it against your fragile neck. Har!"

Despite the presence of a beautiful and naked woman standing next to him, mating was the last thing on Cal's mind. Okay... maybe second to last and there weren't many things on his mind to begin with. Either way his attention was mostly fixed on the blade in his hand. After Rik'evet had stepped away he turned to Enyd with a quizzical look. "What was all that about mating?"
8
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Ch 2: S [Day 02 | 1630hrs] Cat's in the Cradle
Last post by Krajin -
[ Dominic Winters | Pilot’s Locker Rooms | Vector 2 | Deck 16 | ATTN: @joshs1000

Dominic made his way through the corridor leading to the Pilot’s locker room, needing to plunder his locker for one reason or another. The interlude they had was not to be squandered as it was only a matter of time before they had to go into the next battle and he had no idea when that was. He loved to fight out there, do battle with a thinking foe that could try and outsmart you or get lucky with a shot that might end things. It was the challenge that helped everyone grow and become someone or something new, stronger, better.

When the door hissed open, Dominic had not expected to find anyone else inside the Locker room and paused when he felt something being… off in there. His hand slipped to the phaser pistol and slowly, shifted to stalk his way into the room and look around. Dom’s pupils dilated to let in all the light they could as he near-silently stalked his way through until he spied the moving, wet tail of Lok. Dominic paused a moment and figured he’d play it cool for now. He had seen the damage done to the lockers of the flight deck crew and they were rather crispy so he was not going to judge someone who was running the flight deck needing a shower. He figured he might of been heard with the suit’s servos or not being so quiet in sneaking in. But if he hadn’t, Dom tapped his larger locker with a hand to let the other know he was present.

“Enjoying yourself in there?” He asked with a slight teasing tone to his voice.
9
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: EP 2 S: [D3 | 0015hrs] If You Want Blood, You Got It
Last post by RyeTanker -
[Lt Ida zh'Wann | Deck 5 | Vector 01 | The Helmet | USS Theurgy] @Dumedion @Ellen Fitz @Brutus

The hulking yet svelte armored suits moved down the corridor pensively as they kept a watch out for potential ambushes.  It was the nature of the business, but it was also one that Ida silently cursed in her mind as her team stalked the alloy hallways.  There were two sets of infiltrators on the ship.  The never be sufficient damned House Mo'kai had gotten their people in and loose on the ship.  The other was the thrice damned Tal'Shiar.  At least she thought they were.  Professional, stealthy, and deadly.  Even with Thea, it was proving difficult to reconstruct who had actually killed the Chief of Security since both species were technically stronger than the human and he's been taken unawares. 

The ship was shaking under multiple impacts as the team advanced and crew members moved to and fro dealing with their battle station responsibilities.  This made the situation hectic for the group monitoring their surroundings while lines of fire were constantly being blocked.  There was a chirp in the Deputy's ear.  "Lt. zh'Wann."  Thea began, though much less intoned, cold even. "There are anomalous heat signatures moving on decks 6.  They're not going too quickly and seem to be sticking to the Jefferies tubes."  That seemed to track and Zark's voice chimed in. "Makes sense. Big Klingons, small access ways.  I think they're going to try to storm engineering and breach the core.  They could also wreack havoc against the engineers in there."  Ida nodded minutley. "I concur. I'm headed there now and will be in place to fend them off in two minutes.  Alert the security team there and give them a likely exit locus."

"Acknowledged."  Zark came back quickly.  There was a pause where Lt. zh'wann expected the medic to close the comm frequency, but instead the line stayed open.  "Hold on, we just got a solid confirm on Romulan life signs nearby.  One of them is fluctuating wildly.  Looks like a trauma response. Kino is on her way to investigate.  Will update when I have more information."

Lt. zh'Wann could feel her antennae try to shoot up at the unexpected news.  What was going on, who had gotten the infiltrator?  Was it a trap?  The Deputy considered comming the Petty Officer to tell her to be careful, but she shook away the notion knowing the experienced NCO would do that automatically.  This was not a time to micromanage.   Instead, the Andorian opened a comm frequency to her team "Full speed to engineering. Hopefully we can get the Klingons to surrender before they exit and do damage."  It was possibly wishful thinking about getting them to surrender, but the Deputy knew she had to try.

[Shohlogh G'gedh | Deck 6 | Vector 01 | The Helmet | USS Theurgy]

He was by no means small, and that made their current situation worse as he trailed behind his three other comrades snaking their way through the cramped maintenance tubes on board the grethor damned Starfleet vessel.  Still, he didn't complain.  He would take his vengeance against the interlopers that had brought shame down upon his house.  If they hadn't interfered, then Mo'kai would have been victorious and House G'gedh would have been elevated in their fued against House Mnath.  Never mind they were both very minor houses, the fued had gone back over a millennia and Mnath had sided with the existing regime under Martok. 

Unfortunatley G'gedh had been crushed and their holdings absorbed into Mnath, and as much as it disgusted the third son of G'gedh to be slinking in the shadows instead of facing his enemies face to face, eye to eye with cold steel; this was a necessary part of his vengeance.  Still, there would be enough alien blood to be spilled soon when they got to the engineering section of the ship.  There had been that one blonde woman they thought was a human, but had turned out to be a Bajoran.  She'd been taken unawares and he's savoured her subdued meep of surprise when his burly arms had encircled her neck and head.  Not a sound had escaped as he massive hands had covered her mouth.  She'd barely even struggled and he's only gotten a whiff of the terror that had over taken the woman before he'd felt her neck satisfyingly snap.  It would have been better if he'd been able to plunge his dagger into her body and watch the life bleed out of her, but the group had larger goals.

Thoughts of vengeance stopped for a moment and the Klingon gagged as the stench of someone venting noxious silent flatulence in a confined space and a chorus of silent filthy curses followed, though the offender instead hissed then chuckled at the misfortune of his fellows. It took some more crawling and they were past the hideous fumes to the point where thoughts of vengeance could reassert themselves.  Soon.  Soon, the shame of house extinction would be wiped away in a glorious fireball that would signal to the universe that he had taken vengeance and he could recount his tale in the halls of Sto-Vo-Kor.  He was certain of it.

[IRS Vas'deletham | The battle in the Triangle....]

The lumbering carrier manoeuvred far more smartly than her size and bulk would give credit for as Commander Borroso ordered the large ship into an evasive pattern.  The ship shook under a few hits, but it was less than what could have been in store as most of the plasma torpedoes flew harmlessly passed.  One squadron of fighters formed up on each flank, fending off other attackers, or engaging some of the slower moving torpedoes. The Commander looked at the tactical display, looking to discern a pattern in the battle.  Too many ships were moving too and fro, but there had to be a key to the whole battle.  Something that would cause mass confusion in the ranks.

Then his mind saw it.  It was a small thing, but very easy to miss given the colour codes used to denote friend and foe.  There was one symbol that stood out.  The Federation starship.  There appeared to be a bubble around the ship that made any attacks difficult.  Maybe other ships were protecting it, but the amount of firepower it was putting out was impressive.  The Klingons were Federation allies the Commander mused.  Maybe destroying that ship would cease the reason for the Klingons to be here.  That didn't matter though, it was a threat that needed to be dealt with. 

Commander Borroso acted.  "Comm! Get me the Raalar wing! I want those Valdores to punch us a hole towards the Starfleet vessel."  The commander next turned to the tactical station. "Launch the reserve squadron and have them form up behind Raalar.  They'll lead the strike in and we'll follow them.  Standby to focus all forward batteries on the eneny."  The tactical officer nodded and moved to turn the Commander's intentions into action.  Commander Borroso then turned towards his marine commander. "Centurion, when we have knocked down their shields, standby to board and seize the Federation vessel."  The Centurion gave a predatory smile and gave a salute then turned to leave the ridge to organize his forces.

The carrier commander turned his attention back to the tactical display to watch his plan unfold and make any more adjustments.  His eye caught the first change to his plans too late and the ship rocked as a quartet of Klingon Birds of Prey swooped in from the aft quarter and unleashed a withering barrage of disruptors and torpedoes in a high speed pass.  The bridge shook violently as the shields did their best to weather the storm, but bleed through was inevitable and sparks exploded as several conduits vented their abuse.  "Four Klingon Warbirds coming in from 263 mark negative 85.  Hull damage to the port aft and port impulse engines!"  It would seem Commander Borroso's master plan would need some time before it would come to fruition.
10
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi 2 [ D02 | 2300 hrs.] All Squared up at the Triangle
Last post by joshs1000 -
Cmdr. (3rd) Hassar al-Zaheer | Transporter Room 3 | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn:
[Show/Hide]

The group of Vaharrans made quite a contrasting sight to the Starfleet personnel around them. While the aliens were dressed in their simple but sleek uniforms, the colored collars of their shirts denoting their department, the Vaharrans of the Arosan Marines were decked to the nines in their combat gear: body armor, helmets, worn fatigues, a myriad of pouches, belts, and each with a large pistol strapped to their hip. Sure Starfleet had its own forms of combat gear but probably not since the MACOs of the 22nd century did it look anything like what their new guests carried. A bit more on the militarily provocative side of things that many in Starfleet, even the crew of the Theurgy, would be comfortable with, but since the security teams were critically low on personnel due to losses, the big brutish looking Marines were a welcome relief.

“We are just waiting on Specialist al-Kara to bring the E-46 ammunition, Commander”, Lieutenant al-Drakani reported as he and Hassar entered the transporter room with the gratherd group of about a dozen marines, including themselves.

“Very well”, Hassar responded, “I just gave Lieutenant al-Feena his orders so I’d say we are good to telepo- er…transport over to the other part of the ship.”

Hassar was not thrilled to leave Al-Feena in charge, he was rather green and had only ever worked planetside; a capable warrior and good at following orders, he seemed to lack the decisiveness required for a leader, but there was always a chance to rise to the occasion. Plus he had his best NCO with him, Chief Specialist al-Zanak, he would keep things on track if Al-Feena couldn’t handle it.

Hassar, meanwhile, would be taking a contingent of his marines to what the Theurgy crew called “Vector 1” or “The Helmet”; Theurgy, as he learned, could separate into three ships. Truly advanced but made little sense to him, it was best, in his mind and the minds of Vaharran tactical thinkers, that a ship should have its firepower centralized on a strong hull. Granted this was thought of centuries ago long before things like shields or energy weapons were a thing for his people. Either way he had a job to do, support the Starfleet security personnel there and specifically free some from guard duty over the ship’s main computer core which housed some sort of highly advanced AI system. Reports were that an infiltrator had tried to sabotage it earlier but was defeated, however, there were concerns that the Romulans knew of their AI system and would try to board the ship and destroy it in the midst of the large battle that they were gearing up for. Hence Hassar’s Marines. The Vaharrans made sure to pack for it, a heavy gun, some corridor barriers, and thousands of rounds of extra ammunition.

Finally, Specialist al-Kara arrived lugging two large cases of E-46 ammo, where he was then directed to set them with the rest of the equipment on the transporter pad. Satisfied, Hassar turned to the group, who warily looked at the glowing alcove. Sensing their apprehension, he even had some himself, he smiled and stopped up onto the elevated platform and said, “Don’t worry it will be quick and easy.”

“Are you sure it’s not going to hurt”, one of the Marines asked accompanied by nods of agreement from the rest of the gathered group.

“It’ll be fine, you don’t feel anything, it’s just a bunch of blue static and some sound and then you are in the other place…trust me I’ve done this dozens of times”, Hassar responded.

“I always found it helped to just close my eyes and take a deep breath”, the Starfleet transporter chief chimed in with a shrug as she patiently waited for the uneasy Marines to get up the courage to go.

“Fine I’ll go first”, came the deep booming voice of Specialist al-Ahnad. He was quite tall and muscular, even for a Vaharran, and was known for his crude humor as well as being a tough soldier. He stepped up next to Hassar and added while making a lewd gesture towards his crotch, “So long as all this is put back where it belongs, we’ll be good.”

The Marines laughed as the tension was eased, the transporter chief just smirked and rolled her eyes as she started to prep the pad for beaming. Three other Marines joined Hassar on the pad, a couple of them closed their eyes in anticipation.

[Transporter Room 2, this is Transporter Room Three, beaming the first group of Marines over now], the chief reported over the comms then with a few taps of her console she slowly wiped her fingers up the controls to energize the beam. Hassar’s vision was filled with sparkling blue static for a moment only for it to just as quickly dissipate and reveal a similar room but without his Marines and a different Starfleet alien at the controls. Behind him he could hear the sighs of relief from the Marines that had joined him, Al-Ahnad chuckled to himself but was very quick to practically hop off the transporter pad, lest it somehow beam him again.

Once everyone was beamed over, the Marines and their equipment made their way to the corridor that led to the AI computer core and started to set up their equipment. The main showpiece, as it were of the Vaharran defense, was their twenty millimeter machine gun, setup on a standing tripod behind a portable barrier. The weapon, a KP-100, had a long history and had gone through many variations, but had become the mainstay of heavy machine guns for the Tyrosian and later Arosan militaries. It primarily fired massive slugs designed to do the maximum amount of damage possible to vehicles and equipment but also possessed the ability to fire contact detonated explosive ammunition as well as incendiaries. This powerhouse of destruction, manned by the redoubtable Al-Ahnad, was now aimed down the corridor at the T-junction at the far end. On either side of the KP-100 were portable barriers to protect the Marines armed with the standard E-46s but a couple had the automatic L-9 shotguns. Seven Marines in total, including Hassar would guard the core, the remainder of the dozen would be split up and attached to Starfleet security teams to bolster their numbers.

Plenty of firepower to deal with whatever decided to board the ship.
Simple Audio Video Embedder