Dominic’s ears twitched at the compliment that he in his mind received concerning his restraint on not accidentally pulling off someone’s head. Luckily he had been good enough not to have actually ripped off someone else’s arms off in a fight. At least that had been recorded in some fashion or another. Actions in close quarters during the Dominion war notwithstanding. Dominic listened rather intently as Cross explained things and set himself up, grabbing the pads and adjusting the straps to fit his large hands and got ready.
“So these Savi Extra-Terrestrials ‘fixed’ people and then murdered the others who didn’t match their bogus view of life?” He asked “Come on, hit the pads. I can take a good hit.” He encouraged Cross, hearing his explanation and adjusting the pads to match. Dom had good reflexes and kept tracking Cross’ motions and braced his arms lightly just before the impact was made. “If the Savi tried that with me I would tear their arms out and feed them back to them.” The Kzint growled in reply. Not at all happy about the idea. “Already been poked and prodded enough in life. Get enough when I get medically assessed.” He huffed.
“You know I’ve heard about that, in old war films from Earth when I grew up there. Though they would claim their Motto to be ‘I did it the Hard way’ or something like that when they achieved their commission.” Dominic added. “So you’re saying you’d do whatever it takes to get the job done? Even if the politics behind it are wrong?” He asked. A sore question for some for sure.
Once Cross had sufficiently warmed up and Dominic had began to learn how the Vulcan’s body moved and the strength he put out. He shook out his hands with the pads still attached and got ready once more. “I would have to disagree with you concerning respect and honour in a fight. These can have a place in a War. In a fight, you do what you must to win. As long as you don’t sell or destroy your own soul in the process. No conflict, no organization is worth that.” He tossed in. Catching the motions Cross delivered with the pads as needed.
“History is perception, perspective. My Father told me something once. ‘To us, we are the heroes of our own stories. To the enemy, we are their villains.’ Our victors will tell the story from their perspective and polish it as they see fit. After all, we all have our skeletons.”
He laughed at the question of Cross being Diplo’ Corps final choice in a clinch. “I can agree! I know the feeling. I have zero tolerance for other people's bullshit. Angry, yelling... It's why they kept me out of security. I lacked the… temperament to tolerate and de-escalate conflicts. I handled them rather directly.” Dominic mused.
Following the drill Dominic kept with it until Cross came to his stop. Unstrapping them and adjusting the straps for Cross’ smaller hands. “Who? A few people tried it and learned quickly there are consequences. A School Bully tried. Nearly got my furry hide expelled when he had to get his face sutured together. That one stands out the most in my memory. Some Jem’Hadar tried to exploit it and wound up on their arse. Makes for a great way to sweep the unsuspecting off their feet. There was also Risa but I don’t think you’d want to hear about that.” He chuckled.
Wrapping his hands and then fitting his appropriately sized practice gloves on and adopted a similar posture to what Cross had. “I’ll try to replicate your first drill. Eh?” He readies himself, when Cross was ready with the mitts. He began a slow, routine of accurate, yet weak strikes to get the rhythm of it going first. Jab, cross-jab, arm trap, knee, pivot and elbow. Though he did throw in a tail sweep on the pivot once just to throw Cross off and see how well he landed on the padded training mat they were on!
He glanced down at his trunks and frowned slightly. She might've had a point. Still, he didn't see much point in removing his trunks and exposing his manhood to everyone here. Especially given how Artimis' teasing caused a slight flutter in his chest, making him unsure of himself.
Great, he found her attractive. All the more reason to keep those trunks on. He'd had plenty of awkward encounters at the Academy, there was no reason to expand that gallery.
No, the trunks would stay on for now. At least until someone took them off.
"Really?"
Deciding instead of focusing on Artimis's teasing demeanour, and instead on the curious statement she'd made before. Dwelling on her apparent 'lack of culture' instead of her lack of clothes or inhibitions.
"Not much of a culture?"
He echoed in surprise, wondering how that could really be. Did her people borrow aspects from other races or life? Is that what she'd meant. It sounded more plausible than the real explanation. That she was a plant duplicate rather than a conventional life form. Such an idea was far from his mind.
Last post by Hans Applegate -
[ LCpl Knox | Bravo Base | Gila DN6 | Imperium Frontier Space ]ATTN: @Ellen Fitz
Knox simply wanted to get some food. His sleepy-head friend had been slightly troublesome to rouse from his bunk, as usual. What was not usual was getting punched in the face on the way to the chow hall, again, and again, and again. Hell, even just one punch in the face was out of the ordinary. Knox usually liked out-of-the-ordinary but -smack- today he was wanting more routine and less punching in the face.
Ok, enough is enough. Knox dodged the next punch and leaned forward wrapping his arms around his assailant. The large man flailed a little at the aggressive hug and attempted to wriggle free. Knox stood up straight and arched his back lifting the man off his feet. Quickly a haill of blows rained down on the back of Knox’s head, but he didn’t care. It was all going to be over soon. He kept leaning back further and further until he did a rapid back bend and slammed his unwilling hugee into the ground face first.
With a groan Knox rolled out from under the big dude who was no longer wanting a fight and also groaning. They parted ways, both done with fighting. Knox stood up with some effort and wobbled slightly as he rose to his feet and dusted off his uniform. Time to go eat.
But, wait, there’s more! Knox realized that Hirek was not done with his fight. Smack. He just got hit again. Wow. He might could use some help. Smack. Ok, so Hirek was not good at fighting when he as still half asleep. Smack. Damn. He needed some backup. Knox rolled his eyes and walked up behind the massive individual beating up Knox’s friend. He jumped on his back and quickly put him in a rear naked choke. And it the fight became a rodeo.
The gathered crowd cheered as the hulking pugilist turned, swung, and bucked at his rider. Hirek stood there less than helpful, yet no longer getting punched. For some reason that ungrateful son of a bitch wasn’t even cheering as Knox rode this new mount. But the man seemed sufficiently tired from his bout with Hirek and in need of more cardio and less protein powder. His resistance rapidly waned until he dropped to his knees and then fell face first on the ground ending the fight. Knox let go of his choke hold and stood, looking a Hirek.
“Now are you awake enough to go get some chow without making anymore friends along the way?” Knox asked his buddy.
Zark took a sip of her wine and smiled at the implication that she was Ida's unsensible opposite. Not that she preferred to think of it that way. Zark was simply more embracing of her passions and exuberance. She could be cold and methodical, but this was neither the time nor place for it. The security officer in her couldn't help but notice that she wasn't holding all of the Shen's attention as there was almost a quick flick away from her to something behind her, and the medic's own check down the bar helped to pick up that a certain white haired Trill was on the prowl.
That bit of information was filed away for later as Zark refocused her expression on Reika. The Zhen's expressions changed as Reika spilled the details on what life was like in Operations. There was surprise that she'd started in tactical, vigorous agreement that Reika felt she was good at her job. She'd take that one at face value since there wasn't any counter veiling evidence, and one didn't get assigned to the most advanced experimental ship in the fleet by being a moron. Then a mournful shaking when Reika found herself more desk bound because of her job.
This was a travesty in her mind with all that athleticism and grace going to waste on a chair. "I'm willing to bet you are still good at hand to hand as well as fire arms." There was a slight pause for the drama and her grin took on a predatory bent. "Aaaaaaand I'm wiling to bet you'd feel way better after working out all those muscles that haven't seen as much use." Her mobile face smiled more easily. "As you can tell from all the enthusiasm that I show on Ida's behalf, it would be a good way to loosen up your joints. In case you're wondering why I just wandered out with a bruise under one eye and a split lip, it's because I got a little too direct when I went for a back hand strike instead of trying to sweep her feet first."
While Zark was quite confident in her own skills, she'd gotten into enough fights to know the universe had lots of tricks up its sleeve, and part of what made life so interesting was to figure them out. "So tell me, what do you prefer? The bloody tradition of Chaka Hramdal? The close in grapple from Hleshvalath? Or our esteemed power house, Ida's favourite of Kharakom?" The medico happily asked as a smile split her face. Given her rather sensual personality though, she couldn't help but cross her arms around her chest as she leaned on the bar to get closer to Reika and her eyes narrowed in curiosity as her intrigue started to make her eyes sparkle. "Or something more exotic? Kareel-ifla from Vulcan, maybe Dancefighting from Orion?"
Chief Lau had given everyone the nickle tour of the ship. There wasn't much to show, the passengers could congregate in the mess hall and some of the cargo bays. A few were completely off limits, and if for whatever reason they tried to break in, the 'Captain' promised a swift response followed by and equally swift incarceration. Since the whole endeavor was being handled clandestinely, they may or may not make it out of holding.
At the notice that there was a message for him, Lau nodded. "I'll take it in my quarters. Klaudia, Knox, get everyone settled in. Bessir, get us pre-flighted and ready to depart." He tossed the hybrid an isolinear chip with their clearance which the sniper lazily caught, gave a quick visual examination, then lazily saluted with before heading back to the cockpit. Lau nodded to everyone then slid down a ladder and made his way back to his room. After locking the hatch, the Chief brought up the message and went through the biometric authentication process. The computer considered the code, voice, and DNA print for a moment, then brought up the message.
The voice was distorted and there was only a Starfleet Command crest. Given the message headers, the team's new handler was going to some length to make sure his identity was concealed. "Chief, first off, well done for getting out of Romulan space. Your casualties' families will be looked after and notified. You're not to contact them in the future. I know it's hard, but those are the missions needs." There was a brief pause as the next section was being brought up. "There's been a change of plans. The message has coordinates for a Romulan Weapons involved in Thalaron research." The Chief's mind spun at that one as he stared stone faced at the screen. "We don't have any information about the site, but it got flagged for priority investigation after the Warspite's raid. We have reason to believe that a crew from the Theurgy will also be in the area. Your orders are to enter the facility, grab whatever information you can, prototypes if possible, and destroy the installation. Given the nature of the facility, you are authorized to use extreme prejudice for the mission." The Chief's eyebrows rose at being told he was being given a Licence to Kill. "Report back your findings after the mission is over and bring your team and passengers up to speed on the mission details. Good luck."
The terminal screen switched to a summary of what little information was available, and the Chief steepled his fingers under his nose as he quickly absorbed it. When he sat back, he spent a few moment committing himself by tapping on the table, then punched the comm to the cockpit. "Bessir, we have a destination change. Sending them over now. Let me know when we go to warp and I'll call everyone for briefing. A pause to take in the details "Got it Chief. We'll be cleared for warp in thirty minutes." The Chief acknowledged this before killing the link and preparing in his head the briefing he was going to give on this rather significant detour.
Last post by AbsintheDeux -
[ PO1stArtimisSaugn | Public Baths | Deck 12 | Vector 1 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @tongieboi@joshs1000 [Show/Hide]
Sitting up and shifting from one hip to another, Artimis could not help but smile coyly at the blush of the one and then the sudden nudity of the other. She made no attempt to hide her gaze as she looked over the now very naked fur covered man. She had no species preference when it came to romantic partners, it did not seem any of her kind did, not even having the natural fear of predators some races seemed to have.
"Icannotsaymyspecieshasmuchofacultureofit'sown,letaloneahavingaspecificruleaboutsexualengagement," Artimis replied turning her gaze from the fur covered body and back to Joe. She gave him a tight smile. "ThoughifImaybesobold,itwouldseemyouarenowoverdressedfortheoccasion." She gestured to Joe's swimming trunks teasingly.
She then turned to look at Dominic and smiled. "Butwhataboutyou,MisterDom?" She dragged out his name as it passed through her lips, sounding it out slowly. She leaned toward him, her eyes catching the light in just the right way to make them seem to glow as she moved. "Doesyourculturehaveanyspecificrulesaboutrefusingtheofferofasexualencounter?"
It's a dark time for the galaxy. Seventeen years after the end of the Clone Wars, the Empire grows ever more oppressive and cruel with each passing day. There is suffering and fear everywhere. As the Imperial war machine grinds on, consuming world after world to feed the Emperor's insatiable lust for conquest, there are few safe places left.
Hope remains, however. Rumours spread, sharing news of a growing rebellion that promises to restore the Republic of old. In hushed whispers, some even speak of the return of the legendary Jedi Knights. The bravest say that the days of the Galactic Empire are numbered, that its overstretched, that it's on the verge of collapse-
"No it isn't!" protested a girl, barely into her teenage years. In the stifling classroom, everyone turned to look at her in astonishment. Alistair Leavitt, standing next to the large screen that he'd been reading out loud, looked back at the girl with a smile.
"And why is that, Pree?" he asked, crossing his arms. Wearing a simple short-sleeved shirt that showed a powerful physique, with nary a wisp of hair atop his crown, Alistair could appear intimidating to others, but his students knew better. He was no more dangerous than a mouse. Probably less, really. "Remember: justify your opinion based on evidence, then form your conclusion."
"My mom said...so..." Pree said, trailing off as she realised what she was saying. Some of the other students giggled. They were a wide mix of species, of course, so the giggles varied from a deep bass thrumming to high-pitched squeaking. Growing increasingly red in the face, Pree nevertheless held her head up high and looked at her teacher with determination. "Their economy is bigger than ever! The Holonet says that Corellia has never been richer, and the...uh, the military is getting bigger, and the Senate is working together, and the Emperor is still strong-"
"Hey Pree," teased one student, a girl with a red veil over her eyes, "if you love the Empire so much, why don't you go live there and marry a stormtrooper?"
"I don't love the Empire!" Pree protested. "I'm just not letting my bias affect my judgement! That's what scientists do, Livas! Not that you'd know anything about that, always going into the city to play arcade games and sneak around..."
An excited ooh... spread throughout the classroom, but Alistair intervened before the two girls could get a head of steam. "Okay, that's enough. Pree, Livas, remember, this is a safe space. We don't talk like that in this room. It's okay to disagree, and I want you to disagree with each other and even me sometimes, but we're always respectful. That's what the Republic was based upon: respectful discourse. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mister Leavitt," the two girls said simultaneously. Livas glanced over at Pree. "Sorry."
"Me too, sorry," Pree replied, smiling.
"Okay, then!" Alistair said cheerfully. "Now we know what your homework is: study up on why the Republic fell, and think about if that will happen to the Empire." There was a loud chorus of groans, but he was undeterred. "We'll all discuss it next week. Now, where was I? Ah, right. Let's start from the beginning again."
More groans answered him.
*dramatic music*
It's a dark time for the galaxy. Seventeen years after the end of the Clone Wars, the Empire grows ever more oppressive and cruel with each passing day. There is suffering and fear everywhere. As the Imperial war machine grinds on, consuming world after world to feed the Emperor's insatiable lust for conquest, there are few safe places left.
Hope remains, however. Rumours spread, sharing news of a growing rebellion that promises to restore the Republic of old. In hushed whispers, some even speak of the return of the legendary Jedi Knights. The bravest say that the days of the Galactic Empire are numbered, that its overstretched, that it's on the verge of collapse. Others say that the Empire is too strong to ever fall, and that it'll last for millennia, that the time of the Republic has passed.
Nevertheless, far into the Outer Rim, refugees flock together, seeking what safety can be found, hoping-
"Mister Leavitt, sir," a boy interrupted, a teenage twi'lek with pale green skin, "can we go outside and start swimming now? It's really hot today."
"Of course!" Alistair said cheerfully, leading to a few gleeful hoots, "after we finish today's lesson on Galactic Affairs." Hoots turned to groans in an instant. "Now, once more from the top:"
*dramatic music*
It's a dark time for the galaxy. Seventeen years after the end of the Clone Wars, the Empire grows ever more oppressive and cruel with each passing day. There is suffering and fear-
"Who's that?"
With an exasperated sigh, Alistair turned around once more to see the kids looking out the windows. He walked over to get a look; it was a speeder, and quite a fancy one at that, with a gleaming paint job and stylish lines. A common sight in the Core Worlds, such an extravagant craft was completely incongruous on a remote world like Yaffa. It flew over the treetops on the other side of the lake before settling down right outside the school, drawing excitement from the students, who eagerly started discussing what they were seeing.
First out of the speeder was a woman, jumping off the speeder with flair. She looked around with a grin. She had a sway to her hips, as if brimming with nervous energy. Despite the summer heat, she wore a black jacket with only a tube top underneath, plus thick leather pants. Like her speeder, her attire and demeanour were completely alien to the simple folk of Yaffa, as was the enormous holstered blaster that she stroked idly while she walked.
The man who followed her was just as disconcerting. He wasn't especially tall or imposing but he walked with a confident grace, his eyes darting around, hyperaware of his surroundings, his long black hair styled in a ponytail underneath a wide-brimmed hat. His clothing was ordinary, save for his belt, which was positively festooned with weapons; knives, two blasters, even what appeared to be grenades, and other assorted implements of death and destruction. As they got a better look at him, the children became very still and quiet, holding their breath.
A few moments later, they all heard the school's doors open, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps in the hall. Then, finally, the footsteps stopped, and there was a loud series of knocks on the door. Alistair, fighting hard to keep his composure, walked over to the door and opened it.
"Hi!" he said with forced cheer. "Welcome to our school. How can we...uh...how can we help you today? I'm Alistair, by the way, these are my students."
The woman didn't answer straight away, instead looking him over from head to toe. She smirked, then glanced inside at the children. "Hello...oh, I'm so terribly sorry, we're interrupting a lesson! Kio, isn't that a shame? We really don't mean to be a bother, really! Now, we're looking for the principal, so if you could point us in the right direction to their office, that would be just wonderful, darling."
"Er..." Alistair said, baffled. The 'school' was a tiny building that consisted of only two classrooms, a bathroom and a storeroom, as was clearly evident to anyone who saw it. He only realised in that moment that there was no sound coming from the other classroom; the other class was surely listening intently. "That would be me, I guess. I'm Alistair." Glancing at the children, he said, "alright, go ahead to the lake, everyone."
Nobody moved an inch, transfixed by the strange visitors, and Alistair shrugged. "Or we can get back to the lesson, if you aren't interested in swimming. I'm sure that our offworlder visitors would have a great perspective to offer on the state of the galaxy."
Knowing better than to call his bluff, the teenagers promptly stood and hurried out the door, the visitors moving out of the way of the juvenile tsunami. Soon enough, the classroom had been vacated, leaving Alistair very much alone. He heard the other classroom empty as the younger children left, their teacher following. Trusting his fellow teacher, Lorne, to keep an eye on them all, Alistair half-sat on his desk, smiling through his nerves.
"So...uh...are you thinking of enrolling your kids here?" he asked mildly, his eyes flicking down to the variety of weapons on the visitors' belts.
"Oh no, no, not at all, darling," the woman said lightly. She bounced on her feet, charged with energy. "I don't have any children. Not for lack of trying, of course, oh no, but sadly..." She pouted. Her partner didn't react in the slightest, still regarding Alistair impassively. "So I'm Ophelia, very nice to meet you, we just wanted to say hi! A few of us are settling down a few kilometers away, I'm sure that you've heard, we're in that charming place to the west, by the river..."
"Hack's Ridge," Alistair offered quietly.
"Yes. that's it!" Ophelia said excitedly, snapping her fingers for emphasis. "Now, it's just us on this little world, and we want to earn our keep, so we're thinking of opening a school! Isn't that lovely? This place is charming, but we can give you more resources, more space, Kio here will be a wonderful teacher for the kiddies...isn't that right, smoochums?" Kio merely grunted. "We can teach the kiddies all sorts of things...operating a spacecraft, how to use a blaster, hunting, unarmed combat...all such special skills! It's a dangerous galaxy out there, and the children need to be ready for it!"
Alistair, feeling increasingly nauseous, struggled to stay friendly. "That's...uh, very kind, but our community is happy with the status quo. I don't think any of the parents would want their children learning those skills, to be honest with you. We all came to this planet because it's peaceful, remote, far from the Empire..."
Ophelia dramatically placed a hand on her heart. "Oh dearie, rest assured, we won't be any trouble, none whatsoever! We're happy to protect everyone, don't you worry! Really, though, would you consider our offer? It'd mean so much to us if you supported our little project."
"Er..." Alistair said hesitantly.
"Wonderful, wonderful!" Ophelia cut him off, beaming as she bounced on her toes and clapped her hands. "We'll give you a couple of weeks or so to think things over, okay? I'm so excited about joining your community! I would love to get to know you better as well, you're such a handsome man, and we will be working together, after all!" Apparently on impulse, Ophelia abruptly stepped forward and kissed Alistair passionately, who froze in panic. "Until next time, Ally!"
With that, Ophelia merrily departed, leaving a thorougly confused Alistair in her wake. Kio remained for a few moments, fixing Alistair with an intense look as he slowly ran a thumb over one of his knives, before he too left. A couple of minutes later, he heard the sound of the speeder's engine starting, before it zoomed up into the air and away. Alistair exhaled, feeling an acidic worry in his gut, before he too went outside.
Lorne was waiting, having stood next to the windows so that he could simultaneously overhear the conversation while also keeping an eye on the children. For their part, the kids were more subdued than usual, although in the thick heat, most had sought the cool sanctuary of the lake, especially the younger ones. Many were gathered in groups, talking quietly, occasionally glancing at the teachers.
"Well, we knew that this might happen eventually," Lorne said. He had a smooth deep voice, giving him a natural authority that made him especially suited to working with children. Indeed, Lorne's entire appearance was reassuring; he was much taller than Alistair, dark-skinned, and just as well muscled, the top few buttons of his chequered shirt open in surrender to the tropical heat. "This is a perfect base for pirates. Close enough to the trade routes and Hutt space, but far enough that the Empire won't care."
Alistair, watching the children as they started playing in the water, crossed his arms. "I don't even want to think about why they want the children. Just thinking about that woman with them...what she would do with them..."
Lorne placed a reassuring hand on Alistair's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "We have time to work something out, Al. We can get help."
"From who?" Alistair asked grimly. "The constables in town wouldn't dare go up against pirates, even if we could pay them to try it. The Empire might help us, but they'd bleed us dry for the privilege, and half of those kids would be conscripted into the army the moment that they come of age. And between everyone around here, we've got, what, a half dozen blasters? Maybe three people who even know how to shoot? Against...uh...how many people did Sollie say that she saw last week?"
"A dozen, minimum," Lorne said. "Probably more. Those gunships need large crews. That's probably why they're here, to recruit."
Amidst the sound of happy splashing and joyful laughter, Alistair bit his lip. "I didn't think of that...damnit, we can't let them have the kids, but the Empire might be even worse."
Lorne glanced down at Alistair, and extended an arm around the shorter man's shoulders in a one-armed hug. "There might be another option..."
There was something endearing about Mia's nervous fidgeting, and it put Alistair at ease. He smiled back at Mia when she offered the bunkroom. It was a nice gesture.
"After we get back from the mission, sure, that'd be great," he replied cheerfully, privately congratulating himself on saying 'after' instead of 'if'. "And really, don't worry about it. We're all on edge, I think."
He glanced at Conway, who shrugged. "Go ahead. I need to take a break before we get to Hobus, anyway. Here's hoping that those beds are more comfortable than they look."
Alistair nodded in acknowledgement, then joined Mia in the corridor as Conway unceremoniously walked past them. "Barpin should be okay with this. Compared to the new engine they installed on the Theurgy, this isn't really a big deal. Now, uh..." he hesitated, looking both ways down the corridor. "This way...I think?"
With that, he set off, and as the pair walked, he tapped his combadge. "Leavitt to Danvers. If you're not busy, please report to the access door on the far side of the shuttlebay. We need to talk to Barpin." Glancing at Mia, he asked mildly, "So...uh...what have you learned about the Savi so far? Studying a civilisation like this has got to be an exoanthropologist's dream, right?"
Taking one last moment to collect herself, Natalie looked at her reflection in the refresher alcove attached to the Captain’s Ready Room. Her hair was in place, done up in a sensible bun. Her uniform was in order, and she’d reviewed the talking points long enough. There was no point in waiting any longer. Security had already notified her that Martok and his escort had arrived. She had debated meeting the man in the transporter room. Still, she had demurred in favor of remaining on station at the bridge until they arrived, instead entrusting Lt. Commander Akoni to the task.
Exiting the Ready Room, she entered the corridor around the bridge module and swiftly took her place at the doors to the conference center. She noted the presence of two diplomatic department members assigned to the meeting. She had limited experience with both, though she was aware of the Caitian Diplomat as Lt. Madsen had been using the Ensign as a diplomatic gopher across the Helmet.
A quick glance swept over them both, and finding nothing amiss in their bearing, the XO simply offered them a tight, quick smile before turning back to face the corridor, knowing she had scant minutes, if that, before their guests arrived.
[ Petty Officer 2nd Grade Abel J’olan ]
J’olan nervously tugged at the cuffs of his long sleeves. During the upcoming meeting, he would be sitting at the conference room’s monitoring station, meaning he wouldn’t likely be called on to say anything, but he would also be in the presence of high-value individuals. It’d been so long since he’d been given this type of task that he felt more than a little out of practice. But he was grateful the CDO had granted him this opportunity, even if his stomach was currently turning circles.
“They’re here.” L’Nari’s voice whispered low near his ear, pulled J’olan from his thoughts, looking up just in time to see Lieutenant Commander Akoni with a contingent of security personnel come into view.
“Game faces people,” she added, straightening up her shoulders and affecting a look of calm confidence that she wasn’t entirely sure she felt. In the wake of Akoni, she could see the muscled figure of the Chancellor of the Klingon Empire, head of the House of Martok, and hero of the Dominion War. No pressure at all she told herself.
”Chancellor. Welcome back to the USS Theurgy. It is an honor to see you again, though, as always, we could but wish for better circumstances.”
“To meet an ally tested in the fires of battle on the eve of another great battle is cause for celebration, Commander, not solemnity.” Martok bared his teeth at the redhead and the officers close to her in a Klingon gesture of bravado. “My people are eager to end the reign of those SI'neyq for good. No matter what it takes, we are here to ensure their destruction.”
Well, she couldn’t argue with that and dipped her head in agreement. ”I concur. Time is of the essence. Please proceed into the conference room and make yourselves comfortable. Though I do request that none of our guests carve their name into the tabletop with their d'k tahgs this time.” She flashed them a toothy grin and got a set of deep belly chuckles in turn as the party moved past and into the conference room.
[ Ensign Brad Bennett ]
He hadn’t meant to lurk in the corridor, but it certainly felt like he’d been lurking. Waiting until the Klingons and their aides and the bulk of the diplomatic department moved into the conference room, Bennett moved forward before the commander could likewise follow.
“Commander Stark,” Bennett fought the urge to blush under the beautiful woman’s scrutiny once he called her attention to himself, “I have an urgent update from the Intelligence Department.” Handing over the PADD of data, he glanced into the conference room at the men and women getting themselves seated before verbally adding. “We believe those sensor shadows reported a few hours ago are the beginning of hit-and-run tactics that others in the region have reported. We’re uncertain now if the Mo’Kai rebels are behind this or if it is someone else.”
Lucky for Ens. Bennett, Natalie was oblivious to the Ensign's internal struggles to maintain calm around the brunette Martian. She might have been horrified or flattered if she had the knowledge, but she didn’t and thus was unphased by any potential awkwardness. She took the PADD and looked over it as she listened to his report, a frown forming on her lips with every word. The news wasn’t great, but not liking the news didn’t change the news.
”Well, that ups the stakes some,” she concluded, handing the PADD back to the Ensign. Whether it was Mo’Kai or perhaps Romulans or even Orions inserting themself into the sector, Natalie couldn’t know. But she could do something about it. ”Very well. I’m going to be preoccupied here for the next little bit. Relay the following orders: Have Operations boost our sensor gain and extend the net as best as possible. Tachyon surges at random intervals. They know what to do. Interface with the Chancellor's flagship and suggest they do the same.” She waited until the Ensign nodded his understanding and added, ”Have the fighter screen mix up their patrol route. Prep a fast flyover of the last noted disturbance. See if we can shake something out. Other than that - maintain yellow alert. Dismissed, Ensign.”
With that, Stark turned on her heels and moved into the conference room. As the doors slid shut behind her, Ens. Bennet heard her say, ”If we are all ready, let us begin...”
Bennett made eye contact with J’olan, giving the aide a subtle thumbs-up as he passed by to follow Stark’s orders. Despite not being a pilot, Bennett would much rather be in the flyover than in that room right now.
[ Chancellor Martok | Conference Room ]
The young female commander made a brief speech of sorts to start the meeting, and before any of the other officers, especially those of a diplomatic nature, deemed it fitting to add in more useless prattle, Martok knocked his knuckles against the table.
“We are here because we want to eradicate the Infested from our people and prevent further incursions of their kind into the Federation. They have proven themselves capable of twisting even the strongest of alliances into potential bloodbaths and have no honor. The coming war cannot have quarter. We cannot waste time looking to ‘save’ those whom those snakes once inhabited. If we give into the Federation's tendency for compassion at this time, they will spread further. They know our weaknesses almost better than we know them, and they will prey upon those weaknesses.”
He paused, pleased when his men and even a few of the Theurgy crew nodded in agreement. The more highly ranked officers, those more skilled at hiding their true feelings, merely stared at him, waiting for him to finish.
“Empress Donatra is not someone to be trusted. She cares nothing for the Federation and despises my people. This alliance can only be temporary, and it would be foolish to think otherwise. Once this battle ends, we have no lofty goal of having open borders and trading with the Romulans. It is not in their nature to trade openly or share sincerely. Praetor Tal’Aura is no better, and the she-wolves are both baying at the moon for blood, destroying their people in the process. In this, I can empathize. My own people are still divided because of those traitorous Mo’Kai.” He scoffed. “But at least I don’t have a she-wolf nipping at my heels.”
Natalie took a moment to cut in at that point, careful with her words to avoid stepping on the Chancellor's heels. At the same time, she felt a need to channel the distrust and potential bloodlust.
”While we may be fortunate to ring some longer good out of this moment, these talks with Donatra, one I would welcome if only because it would be one less knife at my back, Chancellor Martok is right. We have a common enemy. The infestation that worms its way, duplicitous and honorless, into the halls of power across our corner of the galaxy. From the highest chambers to the lowest chasms of society, they have wormed their way into attempting to use our own flaws against us. But we have faced a threat like that before. Many of you are brave survivors of the Dominion War. We know how to stamp out that kind of threat.
“So yes. We’ll strike a bargain with Donatra. We worked together to defeat the Changelings. This threat is greater. Make no mistake. They aren’t just replacing people, they are usurping their very being. We cannot allow that to spread any further.” She felt a cold fire in her gut as she spoke. These were impassioned words and ones she wasn’t entirely comfortable with. Not that she was saying them. But that she meant them. Her better angels were taking a back seat.
“Usurping or otherwise, we will not hesitate to use deadly force against anyone seen as a foe.” One of Martok’s chief aides leaned forward and growled his contempt. “We have no way of separating the snakes from their hosts and we cannot waste time in trying to figure that out in battle. So,” he wagged a finger towards the Starfleet crew, “if you have any desires to save those who’ve been overtaken, you best have people dedicated to finding out a way of doing so that can be shared across borders because until then, our policy is death, immediate and complete.”
Martak watched with vague amusement as the chief diplomat, if he remembered correctly, one of Colonel Hauq’s Starfleet contacts, squirmed in her seat and leaned forward to speak.
“You cannot be faulted for such a stance, especially considering how high up the Infested infiltrated before their truth was made known. We are still ferreting out those in Starfleet and, more recently, we have suffered from an attack from the Infested using Praetor Tal’Aura as a puppet. We will not seek to impose misguided morality upon you in a time of war,” Martok let out a breathy snort, watching his aide relax a bit at her words. “However, our science department is working on that very thing, learning how to separate the host from the parasite, and once we know how we will convey that to you and all the Federation.”
His aide nodded to Martok, signaling his satisfaction with the answer. The Chancellor looked at the rest of his aides, curious who else would speak up. He’d given them leave to speak their minds as openly with these Starfleet personnel as they had with him prior to arriving. He knew that there was at least one more matter…
“We don’t want any Romulans on our ships,” one of the captains in his armada said, breaking the momentary silence. “While we may be making a deal with them to fight a common enemy, they have proven themselves duplicitous enough over the years to merit such caution. Starfleet crew with proper clearance and accompaniment by KDF personnel may come aboard, but no Romulans. Period. If the Romulans have something to convey to us, they may do so through your people.”
Well, that will complicate matters a bit, but I’m honestly not surprised, the young Commander thought to herself, nodding slowly in acknowledgment of the words. ”In principle, that is acceptable. As you are undoubtedly aware, my crew consists of a few Romulan ex-patriots who have earned honorable commissions within Starfleet. I expect you to extend the courtesy to them that you would any other Starfleet officer with the appropriate clearance. But we will handle any direct physical contact with Donatra’s personnel and keep them off your ship.”
Natalie fixed the Klingon who had made the statement with a level look, jaw set, and placidly folded hands in front of her, as if daring him to counter her corollary agreement to his demands.
The chief diplomat leaned forward again, seeking to draw attention to herself as she spoke, “There will be a casual meal planned after Empress Donatra arrives.” She waved a hand to encompass the group. “Where we can all mingle and assess and begin the alliance, even if it is temporary, on equal footing.”
“Equally uncomfortable on this ship.” An aide grunted under his breath in Klingon. Martok snorted his amusement, not disagreeing with the statement but careful not to publicly condone it either by commenting on it.
“Very well, let us know the time.” The meeting over, Martok cleared his throat, nodding to his aides. They wisely stood and waited for him by the door. Using his body to create a semblance of privacy, he turned in his chair and leaned closer to Stark before he spoke.
“I will have my aide send what information we have on an encrypted channel, but I have reason to believe that there is a saboteur among our forces.” He shook his head at the commander when it looked like she wanted to say something. “We don’t know if it is one of those damned snakes, a remnant member of the Mo’Kai, or someone else, but we think that they will see to destroy our efforts to make an alliance with Donatra. As such, we need your people to look into the matter.”
The day just kept getting worse, and there was little she could say to make it better. Sensor ghosts, negotiations, and now potential saboteurs in the Klingon contingent. Given the serious nature of what was about to unfold, the negotiations Martok outlined...well, it made sense that someone would try to throw a wrench into the works. ”Consider it done, Chancellor. We’ll need access to your logs and ships, but we’ll do our best to be discreet about the subject. If it is our infested enemy, we can expose and deal with them now. And if it is one of the more disaffected members of Mo’Kai,” here she paused and allowed her expression to grow cold. ”They have attempted to test themselves against my mettle before and suffered the consequences. They are welcome to try again. The results will be the same.”
While Martok spoke with the commander, Colonel Hauq shifted away from the rest of the delegation to intercept the one officer in the room he’d had the most run-ins with, and not all of them particularly positive.
“Lieutenant Madsen,” Hauq gestured for the diplomat, or rather bedlam incarnate, to come closer once the meeting officially adjourned. “I am uncertain if I should bring this to your attention or to another department.”
The woman’s body immediately tensed, an almost predatory alertness dancing at the edges of her gaze as she stepped closer. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I will relay it to the correct people if necessary.”
“Indeed. Senator Ath’aK Noggra seems to have lost his daughter.” The diplomat’s eyebrows rose in mute question. “Although he hasn’t stated it outrightly, he seems to be blaming his alliance with the Chancellor for her disappearance. There are murmurings that he may distance himself and remove his forces from Martok if she cannot be found unharmed.”
“I see. That is indeed something that bears looking into. To be clear,” Madsen’s lips pulled upward in a half smile, “so we don’t have yet another misunderstanding, are you asking Theurgy to look into this covertly, freeing your people up to deal with other issues, or are we working on this jointly?”
Hauq sighed. “While it seems to be an internal matter, I felt it could do with an outsider’s perspective because of the upcoming council meeting with that Romulan leader. As you said, we have many other matters to attend to that are truly internal, and, frankly, the disappearance of a nobleman’s daughter is the least of our concerns.”
The woman laughed, swatting Hauq’s shoulder without warning. “No, we bleeding-heart humans will chase our tails looking for a lost targ, eh?” When he didn’t share her laugh or smile, she sobered, clearing her throat. “Send me what intel you have on the matter, and I'll consider looking into it. I’ll contact you if anything comes up that we can’t handle, at least not without causing you more stress.”
“Lieutenant, if you are not already aware of how stressful your mere existence can be on any system of government or protocols, then you have deceived yourself mightily.” He gave her a semi-formal bow, then turned away to file out with the rest of the Klingon delegation.
[ Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen ]
Enyd rolled her eyes at the man’s departure, more amused than miffed—no point in trying to deny it when what he said was true.
“Commander,” Enyd crossed the room to stand next to the commander once Martok left with his aides, “One of my contacts in the KDF just brought some interesting leads and will send more intel later. I think some of it my department could take care of, but much of it, in my opinion, is better slated for Intelligence.”
”Oh great. You’ve been dragged into the cloak-and-dagger back channel mess as well? Something else?” Stark asked, then realized that wasn’t exactly the most tactful response considering she was the ranking officer aboard. Sighing, she put a better face on the subject.
Enyd nodded. “Since Pierce is away, who is the acting lead in Intelligence? I can have all the intel I get sent on to them.”
”Junior Lieutenant Dantius, if I recall,” Natalie said after a moment of reflection, pleased that she was able to remember the name. Another connection formed in her mind, recalling a conversation she’d had not terribly long ago that involved - indirectly - the intelligence analyst (and possible spy - she never did check to confirm that). Red creeped across her cheeks and down the back of the neck as Natalie remembered how very descriptive Lillee had been about her paramour and covered it with a small cough. ”Somewhat junior for the position, but Intelligence is spread a bit thin. The truth is, I have another matter I need them to poke into. Martok thinks he has a saboteur, and we’ll need to start a snipe hunt to find it. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and it’ll all be related.” Somehow, Natalie very much doubted that.
I’ll inform the Lieutenant of whatever details you pass along.”
“Very well,” Enyd smiled at the commander, “thank you for taking the lead. Technically, you had no choice, and it comes with the territory of the rank. But, truly, thank you. Please let me know if you need anything else or want me to take care of it before Donatra’s forces arrive.”
”I’m sure I’ll come up with something to keep you busy, Lieutenant. Not that you aren’t already,” She pursed her lips, longing for another cup of coffee and likely a dose of painkillers for the headache she could feel blossoming behind her eyes. ”Just keep the Klingons from causing any further problems before the Romulans show up. I need to go talk to Ops and see if they found anything on the raiders we’ve possibly been picking up. Good luck, Lieutenant.” OOC: This post opens up the availability of a number of story prompts noted here (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Story_Prompts) that may be pursued with writing partners following the Ch # S [ Day # | Time ] Title (story prompt title) for these supplemental threads. Stay tuned for another JP for Donatra’s arrival!
"Wait he's a what? Are you sure? Shit," Sarresh looked from the trill to the human and sure enough, he could see the third pip he'd missed before, his eyebrows shooting up. "When did that happen?" But the redhead was already off and others were falling in around Lt. Commander Arnold and Sarresh and he half missed whatever it was 'red' had shouted over her shoulder as she darted off to do whatever it was she was doing. He shut his eyes and mentally counted back from 10, then opened them once more.
By that point he was being addressed by the chief, who at-least knew of him, so point in that man's favor. Then again, Sarresh had briefed the senior staff on many of the parameters of the mission that had led to multiple efforts being coordinated at once across many of the local (and not so local) sectors. Gather wool later, Morali, he scolded himself, a frown growing deeper on his face as he listened to Arnold. Slipstream was not his area of expertise but there was a small chance that something would shake loose once he was looking at the drive, so he gave a terse nod and crossed his arms tight over his chest, chin dipping down as he tried to dredge up everything he knew about subspace radiation and slipstream drives (other than the fact that the Federation should have already had one) and hadn't - clear interference that they had managed to take advantage of).
A look of surprise flashed across his face as someone he actually knew joined in on the group. That was compounded twice over in fact, but for the initial briefing, it was the Andorian he'd worked with on the Savi ship, and had then spent some time in closer quarters than he'd like, under the 'tender care' of a pair of Aegis agents. He gave a sharp nod to Shall and turned his head to see if he could spot the redheaded Lieutenant - Ryn, Arnold had called her - in theory coming back from the QSD room. By that point more hands had joined in and Anrold was issuing orders at a rapid pace. Including, to his compounded surprise, PO Benmual. His eyebrows rode up his forehead and he blinked in visible surprise. Was that a smile? Yes I think it was, he thought and dipped his head in her direction, his own lips curling up at the corners.
"I have a feeling Lieutenant ...Ryn was it?" he had heard her name perfectly well, but it didn't hurt to be sure, so he looked to Lt. Commander Arnold for confirmation, "And I will need a steady set of hands for whatever is going on in there. And possibly someone to pull us out if it goes south." Subspace radiation was no laughing matter, and he hoped that his tricorder could pick up something useful about it, and if nothing else, determine if it was deliberately generated or not. "I can attest to the Petty Officers capability on that front. If you have no other use for her, I'd like to borrow Ms. Benmual."
Sarresh wasn't going to go into details about just what and when PO2 Benmual had done to demonstrate a steady nature but the fact was he'd grown to trust her at this point and there were precious few people aboard that applied to. If things were going to go pear shaped, having someone with security skills could be great, even if it was to just physically haul him out of the room if something bad happened.
