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CH02: S [D03|0700] So, Exactly How Fucked Are We Today?

[Lieutenant Commander Cross |  Holodeck | Deck 08 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @BZ, @masorin

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If there was one thing that Cross had discovered more and more since he'd been promoted up the ranks, it was that meetings sucked. They were an inevitable part of the job, and he knew it, but nevertheless, Cross' irritation had grown more and more over the past year. Most meetings were a waste of time, where the participants got it over with as soon as possible so they could escape, Cross among the first out the door. Running a department on a ship as large as the Theurgy required ever more time spent doing anything except real work, and it was steadily driving Cross insane when there was a war to fight. He could never fathom how the admirals and staff officers at starbases and Starfleet Command got by when meetings were all they did.

Strolling down the corridor with a steaming mug of coffee, Cross snorted in derision. Well, that explained it. Of course the Parasites infested Command. The admirals all had their brains rotted to nothing from endless conferences, meetings, briefings and similar chin-wagging tournaments, resulting in a place with less collective brainpower than a Pakled nursery. Cross frowned as he pondered telling that joke to Kai, or Blue, or Ranaan, or even Hathev before remembering that he couldn't. Kai and Ranaan were dead or as good as, while Blue was a wreck. All because Martok had been a moron, bringing people with them that he didn't trust.

Eventually Cross reached his destination, the holodeck. If he was going to do a damn meeting, he at least wanted to do it with all the good toys. Arriving a few minutes early, Cross walked into the large room, the black surfaces pristine save for the stark yellow lines that separated the room into grids.

"Morning, Thea," he said to the empty air, sipping his coffee. "Call up program WTF, my latest update, please." A few seconds later, the room around him transformed into a spectacular starscape, with Cross standing like a giant among them. The stars were coloured here and there, small notations next to each if one got closer. A model of the Theurgy appeared next to him, the four-nacelled dreadnought only a meter long, while both Cross and the Theurgy were surrounded by smaller models of Klingon ships, all with notations and colour markings of their own.

It looked very impressive, but appearances could be deceiving. Cross knew that their available data was horribly insufficient; many of the locations for Klingon ships and battlegroups amounted to educated guesses. That was the whole point of the meeting: let Zyrao Natauna and the Intel spook fill in what blanks they'd figured out, then work out the best tactical plan. Thea would be going back into QSD soon, probably soon after followed by battles that would determine the fate of the Klingon Empire.

Standing amidst the stars and waiting for everyone else to pop in, Cross mused that as meetings went, saving the Klingon Empire meant that this at least ranked as "somewhat necessary".



OOC: This is pretty much what it looks like, folks: a quick tactical meeting to figure out how the Theurgy is going to fight the coming battles. @BZ (with Zyrao Natauna) will be there, given Zyrao's position as a liaison to the Klingons, as will @Auctor. Otherwise, attendance is voluntary from Tactical and Intelligence; it's entirely up to you whether your character comes along.

To keep the thread manageable, please limit it to just one character from Intelligence.

This is set on Day 03, shortly before the start of Chapter 06 when the Theurgy goes back into QSD to jump ahead of Gorka in the race to Qo'nos.

Re: CH02: S [D03 | 0700 hrs.] So, Exactly How Fucked Are We Today?

Reply #1 –
[ USS Theurgy "Thea" NX-79854 | Holodeck | Deck 08 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Griff @BZ @Masorin 
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The vocal cue came, and per automation, Thea complied with the request, announcing it through her intercom.

[Aye, Commander.]

After the program had been loaded, however, Thea made a non-automated decision to offer her direct interaction with the Chief Tactical Officer during his meeting, so she accessed her own transporter system, locked on to her mobile emitter, and made it materialise along with her projection a couple of feet away from the Vulcan officer. She was wearing her red chameleon body suit to designate the assistance she wanted to give the Tactical department, and she gave the CTO a warm smile.

"Do you require my presence as well?" she asked in a friendly tone and folded her hands behind her back, squaring her shoulders. "I would love to assist you if you need to calculate distances and velocities for all these moving ships, or illustrate common Klingon battle tactics I have stored in my database."

Having said this, she glanced towards the sliding doors at the back of the holodeck, since they had already parted for newly arrived attendees.

Privately, in her background processes, she was a bit nervous about the planned second use of her new quantum slipstream drive, for she had learned by the level one diagnostics that Engineering had made that the benamite crystal had begun to deteriorate after the first jump, and it was a calculated risk to make a second jump whilst using it. By all accounts, it should be viable for use once more, but after that? It seemed like she would only be able to make a second jump before they had to replace the crystal, and with benamite being such a rare commodity, she wondered what options could be found...

Re: CH02: S [D03 | 0700 hrs.] So, Exactly How Fucked Are We Today?

Reply #2 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Personal Quarters | Deck 10 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @BZ @Griff @Masorin

With little in the form of sleep behind him, as he had only just returned from an impromptu mission meant to ascertain the existence of an heir to the House of Martok, and bring said heir back if he so existed, Fisher had hoped to find solace in the form of his favorite brewed stimulant, but something had gone terribly awry with the replicator system since he’d futzed with it upon his return. Each time he had attempted to order a Dark Roast Coffee, he was instead rewarded with Herbal Tea laced with Ginseng and Ginger. It was as if the computer system were mocking him, though it was likely more-so due to a miswritten piece of coding that he had intended to input into the command subroutine of the replicator systems as a bit of a harmless prank on the Chief Diplomat. That piece of coding somehow was working against, rather than for him now as he was seemingly barred from ordering his preferred beverage, at least until he admitted his failed stunt to someone with better engineering expertise. For now, he’d begrudgingly settled on sipping at the concoction, even if it did sting at his pride and prowess as an Intelligence Officer.

Finishing the last of his Tea and typical morning Oatmeal, Fisher returned the empty vessels to the replicator to be recycled into the system before he emerged into the corridor from his quarters, and approached the nearby gangway which would allow him to traverse the two decks between him, and his first of many meetings on the day.

[ Holodeck 02 | Deck 08 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

As the doors parted to him, Fisher strode into the holodeck a few minutes after Cross had, detecting the subtle aromatic hint of coffee lingering in the air, taunting him. Pushing the thought aside, he nodded to the bald-man and approached where he stood. “Good morning, Commander Cross. Thea.” He greeted the pair of them, laying his sage-green eyes upon the holographic manifestation of the ship’s Artificial Intelligence, and wondering for a moment if she were simply making use of the holodeck’s emitters, or if she had gone through the trouble of being present in ‘body’ in addition to spirit, via her mobile-emitter. He hadn’t spent much in the way of direct interaction with either Cross, or Thea outside of the Senior-Staff mixer a few nights prior, which had served as an introduction, and also as the last time the entire group of them would likely be together. The circumstances of their mission had split the crew across a variety of efforts, and the events of the ‘Spearhead Lounge’ explosion had emphasized that point violently, and sorrowfully so. He hadn’t even yet come to know their Executive Officer beyond a mere acquaintance when his life had been essentially snuffed from existence. Only happenstance had dictated Fisher’s own survival of the bombing, rather than adding him to the list of dead, though he was still dealing with some aftereffects of the explosion.

“I hope I’m not late.” He explained, as there had been a conversation held between the two of them prior to his arrival, and there was likely a chance he had arrived late due to the time he had spent replicating and re-replicating the same incorrect beverage over and over again.

“This meeting wouldn't be to discuss how we've figured out that this all just a bad shared nightmare, and now know how to turn it into something far more pleasant; like shore-leave on Risa, would it?” his reliance on humor had been a habit that never died out, even during the most stressful of situations, and which could manifest itself at some decidedly inappropriate moments. This hadn’t seemed to be either of those, so perhaps it would go uncontested.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he examined the stars as they were displayed, attempting to get a grasp of the tactical situation before his Tactical compatriot began explaining it in finer detail.

Re: CH02: S [D03 | 0700 hrs.] So, Exactly How Fucked Are We Today?

Reply #3 –
[Zyrao Natauna | Late is an Understatement | Busy is as Well | Intel and Tactical]
@Auctor Lucan @Griff @Swift




She was late.

Perhaps she could skew it to saying that she had arrived precisely when she meant to, to make an entrance and all.  But, while Zyrao was not a shy woman she was also not the sort that worried about making grand entrances and doing what she could to draw attention to herself outside of battle.  In battle, she was in the faces of her enemies and making sure they all knew who took them down when she could.  However she had been held up by some of the Klingon delegates wanting to know the ins and outs of what the hell was going on.  Some of them were being even more closely monitored than before and they didn't appreciate the fact that they were held so because of the one traitor in their midst.  Pride was before all else when it came to the Klingon and it was something that Zyrao could understand, it resonated heavily with her.  But, truth be told, she didn't blame the Theurgy for having extra security.

Several had died, many were on the verge, and lives had been altered forever.

The Klingon Liasion turned a corner quickly and nearly ran into another officer who mumbled out a quick apology while darting around her in his yellow skirt.. jumper... thing.  Zyrao paused a moment to allow her grey eyes a moment to make certain she was seeing what she was seeing.  Never before had she expected that one, not that.. she wasn't a progressive woman.  At over two hundred years old Zyrao liked to think that she was fairly progressive.  But, the whole skirt.. short.. she wasn't exactly sure what it was, just looked out of place on the thick muscular thighs of a man.

I'll have to warn Foval of my displeasure of such a look not that it would be logical for him to wear such worthless garments...

Shaking herself from her thoughts she headed towards the corridor that had been remarked in the meeting messages on her PADD and palmed the entrance button.  The door swished to the side with authority and she found herself to be the last to arrive.  Thea, Fisher, and Cross were already there.  The only one she really had any experience with was Cross, but she always felt in good enough company when she was.  She gave a simple nod of her head. 

“My apologies at my tardiness, I was detained by the Klingon delegates.” she admitted, the Klingon afterall were her first and most important job.  They would understand the delay as it pertained to the ship itself.  Still, the stars and the whole battlefield they were embarking on was certainly a sight to behold in this kind of walk-through method that Cross had called up for them.  She was intrigued to see Thea dressed in Tactical red, Zyrao herself had not changed her uniform at all and still boasted the same black Klingon-esque flight suit she found most comfortable.  Though she wore the badge for the Federation and the badge for the Klingon at even heights on her chest so that they were seen as equal.  She was quite strict on exact placement because one small tick in either direction spoke volumes. 

“What can I do to help?” she asked Cross.


========================

Sorry for the delay guys.  I have a LOT going on irl right now and a ridiculous amount of stress, so if I miss my 7 days don't be afraid to ping me.  Discord or here.  Thanks!

Re: CH02: S [D03 | 0700 hrs.] So, Exactly How Fucked Are We Today?

Reply #4 –
[Lieutenant Commander Cross |  Holodeck | Deck 08 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @BZ, @masorin

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Even though Cross had been expecting Thea to pop up, he still flinched as she appeared out of thin air, but fortunately he kept a good hold of his mug. Spilling steaming coffee was a serious pain in the ass, not to mention embarrassing. "Of course, Thea, you're welcome to join us," he said, his eyes flicking from the AI back to the complicated strategic overview around them. "This thing is so complex that it hurts my brain just looking at it."

At the opening of the doors behind him, Cross turned around to see Commander Fisher enter. The man was more or less a stranger, but they'd have to establish a solid working relationship very quickly given the hornet's nest that the Theurgy was flying into. The prospect of it wasn't something Cross relished given how he could struggle to connect to others, and especially given how he'd lost two close friends just two days prior.

Nevertheless he raised his mug in salute to Fisher, even attempting a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Afraid not. If you ever do figure out how to end this mess and divert us to Risa, I'll be right with you."

It only took a minute or so for Zyrao Natauna to arrive, even later than Fisher had come, but at least she had a decent reason for it. Cross wasn't interested in browbeating either of them, though, much preferring to simply get to work. He did note Zyrao's attire, though; she stood out from her three Starfleet companions in her Klingon flight suit, but the combadge was a nice gesture.

"Welcome," he said to Zyrao politely as the doors closed behind her before vanishing. He half turned away, gesturing around him with his coffee. "To be honest, I've been looking at this strategic overview since last night and it's been giving me a headache. We're going into QSD in a couple of hours, and as best we can tell, there are at least a hundred and fifty hostile warships in the proximity of Qo'nos. There are probably more, a lot more, but right now it's mostly guesswork. Given that our sensors don't work while we're in QSD, we'll be going in mostly blind."

He took a few steps towards a small D-7 class cruiser, hovering at head height and aimed squarely at the Klingon homeworld. "Take this one, for example: Battlegroup Ruy'baq. All we know about this one is that Starbase 15 detected them on long range sensors two days ago, but we don't know its composition. All we know is the flagship's name, position, vector and speed as of two days ago. Even that data is a problem, since we don't know how reliable Admiral Andersson's information is for this region of space."

Cross turned back to the others, frowning. "We need to make sense of this mess as best we can, and if possible, figure out our tactical options when we drop out of QSD."

Re: CH02: S [D03 | 0700 hrs.] So, Exactly How Fucked Are We Today?

Reply #5 –
[ USS Theurgy "Thea" NX-79854 | Holodeck | Deck 08 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Griff @BZ @Swift ] 
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Offering what little input she had given the broad question, Thea spoke up.

"The overall situation might shed some light on what to expect closer to the Klingon home world," she said, and with a gesture, she illuminated her own voyage from Aldea - in the far distance of the holographic scene - and the way she'd made a Quantum Slipstream  jump that spanned sixty light years. "This is the distance which I have travelled since we left the Epsilon Mynos System, and it has taken us less than two days. Martok's adversary and challenger, however, left the Epsion Mynos System before Martok arrived there, giving him a head start towards Qo'nos."

Making another gesture with her hand, she showed the accumulated input on the IKS Neng-ta's voyage from Aldea, and how much farther he'd come.

"Reports pin-point him at several skirmishes with Martok's loyal fleets along this path, and given the estimated speed of his Vorcha-class ship, he ought to be reaching Qo'nos later today. My assumption, looking at the manner in which Klingon ships are amassing in the sectors around the Klingon home world, I think they gather there either out of support towards Martok or the challenge of this Gorka, Son of Margon. I believe, furthermore, that it might not be a black-and-white situation for Klingons, correct?"

She looked towards Zyrao Natauna for confirmation. "Would it be fair to assume that some of the Houses gathering around Qo'nos are hedging their bets on the new chancellery, be it remaining the same or Gorka taking Martok's place? House Mo'Kai has held the Chancellery before, so it might not be entirely beyond the Klingon Council to favour Gorka's claim? This, regardless what some of the Council may think of the Kithomer Accords, or the claims of Martok colluding with the Romulans merely because of his affiliation with Captain Ives and this crew. We should keep in mind that some of the Klingon Houses out there might not believe the Theurgy is anything but what the false Simulcast claimed."

Re: CH02: S [D03 | 0700 hrs.] So, Exactly How Fucked Are We Today?

Reply #6 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Andrew Fisher | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @BZ @Griff

It was a curious thing, meeting to discuss the current and still developing tactical situation in an attempt to formulate the plans that might facilitate a better outcome, because in essence their efforts, no matter how small, would likely have a massive impact on the fate of Galactic Civilization. An apt analogy entered Fisher’s mind as he stood among the holo-projected star scape surrounding them; they were seaborn navigators about to cross a great ocean, sitting at just the periphery of a looming hurricane, and it was up to them to try and foresee what direction it might turn. Would it go to the north, and they should sail south? Or would it do the opposite, and by sailing south would they hit it head on? Disaster was most certainly assured if they made the wrong decisions here, and the absurdity of the consequences rendered due to such a failure was hard to fathom. Hence why Fisher found the entire exercise to be somewhat amusing, though in fairness his natural predilection for humorous anecdotes in the face of even the gravest of circumstances had been at an all-time peak as of late. Perhaps it was a symptom of him understanding just how much was at stake, and his psyche was reacting with the only defensive mechanism which still seemed to allow him some modest sense of coping.

Whatever it was, and despite his penchant for levity, he was ready and willing to play whatever part he could in steering Theurgy through this crisis.

Affording their Vulcan Chief Tactical Officer a succinct nod, as if to acknowledge the necessity for seriousness in the moment, he then turned to face the doors as they opened once more. He had yet to truly meet with Zyrao Natauna; their liaison to the Klingon Defense Forces. From what he had been able to gather from the intelligence reports, and her shipboard personal dossier, he figured her to be of especial merit in the discussion of matters ahead of them. For while she was technically a civilian, her past experiences with the Klingons, and more specifically her ties to the High Chancellor likely dictated a wealth of knowledge and insight into the minds of those Klingons that had yet to plant their flag on either side of the line drawn. He was hopeful that she could offer the options and advisements they were going to need, however great or unfair a burden that may have been. It was if anything, a further reflection of how great the overall burden placed upon Theurgy and it’s mission to stave off Armageddon. Likewise, the green-eyed spy afforded the tattooed woman a simple nod as greeting.

With her arrival, it seemed Cross was ready to begin his summarization of what they already knew and lay out the dilemma facing them. Crossing his arms over his chest, Fisher listened to him raise the concern over the veracity of Admiral Anderson’s provided intelligence. “To be honest, most of the reports we’re receiving from our back-channel access into Starfleet need to be taken with a healthy dose of salt. The unfortunate reality is, it’s all we have to go on, regardless. Pretty much leaves us needing to make plans according to what that intel suggests, and for lack of a better approach, be creative with alternatives in the event that it proves untrustworthy.” That was well and fine, but there were only so man scenarios that they could realistically make plans for, especially with the limited time at their disposal. “What’s worse, is with Anderson’s operational status in question, our source for intel may be just about finished. That means that we’ll need to rely on our individual intuition, and experiences in order to limit the number of possible situations that we prepare for. Naturally.” Once more turning his gaze back to the Romulan leading the meeting, he didn’t wish to appear as though he were dictating the way in which it proceeded.

As the soul of the very starship they were standing on began to speak, Fisher watched as the holographic projection around them adjusted to reflect the path they were taking through Klingon space on their way for the home world, Qo’nos. She made mention of the ships to the fore, and aft of them on this journey, posing the question to their civilian liaison as to whether her analysis was correct.

“Not exactly a favorable score this late in the game. But we do have other factors to account for.” He added when she’d concluded.

“In his most recent communication, the Admiral made mention of additional assistance in the form of a codenamed contact, ‘Freedom Sentinel’, which as far as I can guess is either another active intelligence operation, or if we’re lucky another friendly starship.” He knew it was a flimsy premise to go on, and that one new ally wouldn’t turn the tide, but in a game of numbers like they were currently playing, every little bit counted. Even one as unknown as this one appeared to be.

“We just don’t know when, or even if this new contact will appear.”

Re: CH02: S [D03 | 0700 hrs.] So, Exactly How Fucked Are We Today?

Reply #7 –
[Zyrao Natauna | Late is an Understatement | Busy is as Well | Intel and Tactical] @Griff @Swift @Scratchrat
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Realising the scopes of the discussion, Zyrao took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair. She realised she would have to convey the overall situation of the entire Klingon Empire in terms of politics and known alignments between Martok and this usurper from House Mo'kai. She sorely regretted not having replicated some tea before coming to the meeting, because she'd really needed it.

"All right," she said and sauntered towards the sectors surrounding Qo'noS.

"I don't know they exact placements, but Martok's fleets out there report that there are numerous Houses that have refused to pick a side just yet. Among them are House Cha'lak and House Ganbral, and it's still unknown if their Councillors have reached the Great Hall to make a decision about this challenge. Then we have Grevaq, of House Grevaq, who may have little love for the High Councelor, but in 2379, I have learned that someone named Alexander Rozhenko, acting on behalf of the Federation, met with Grevaq and was able to convince him to pledge his continued support for the Klingon-Federation alliance. That, however, doesn't mean he doesn't loath Martok still, and everything we know so far indicates that Gorka, son of Margon, has no intent to tear up the Kithomer accords. Gorka seem to challenge Martok over aiding the Theurgy, not because of his amicable terms with the Federation. In fact, I believe Gorka's claim is that Martok's actions have threatened the Empire's good standings with the Federation Council, since he is peddling the - unknown - truth that Starfleet Command isn't all they seem to be. In any case, House Grevaq remains an unknown piece in this game."

Having said as much, Zyrao noticed how Thea picked up on her gestures and added House emblems of the mentioned Houses surrounding Qo'noS, to which she gave the A.I. a grateful nod before she continued to elaborate.

"The list goes on. There are eleven more Great Houses that have refused to pledge for Martok or Gorka. Next are Houses K'lek, Konjah and Kopek. House Kopek has been a stalwart opponent of Martok in the past, but no official claim has been made just yet, but everyone I've talked with have said they expect Kopek to side with Gorka. Then again, Kopek is also an opponent to the continued alliance with the Federation, whereas Gorka doesn't seem to be that. Next, you also Houses  Kriton, Kryan and Marab. No idea about Kriton, but Kryan is of the same mind as Kopek. House Marab is led by a hardliner who has little mercy for what he believes are lesser species, humans included. Not sure what that indicates when it comes to Martok, though."

Taking a deep breath, seeing Thea adding those banners to the map in which they stood, she continued. "Then, we have Houses Merik, Qolka and S'Kopa. Like Grevaq, Kopek, and Kryan, Councillor Merik has seldom supported  Martok in the past, but they have not declared their standing in this challenge Gorka has issued. Lastly, among the unknown affiliations, we have Houses Tovoj and Woldan, wherein we might have an ally in Councillor Woldan, but Tovoj will likely fall in line with Kopek and the others who are likeminded with him."

The worst news were yet to come, and she turned to face the present officers. "Among the remaining Great Houses, it's an even split between Martok and Gorka as things appear now. Sufficed to say, Gorka may very well have a chance to get the Great Hall siding with him, if he reaches Qo'noS first. You asked what we can expect when we reach those sectors, Commander?" she said and raised an eyebrow in Cross' direction. "The beginning of a civil war, in which the Empire might tear itself apart over this challenge Gorka has issued, and knowing that the Romulan Praetor has resorted to use banned thalaron weaponry and is currently chasing Donatra's fleets towards the RNZ, I can't see why she'll be stopping there. Especially if the Klingon Empire isn't protecting the border..."

Putting her hands in her jumpsuit's pockets, she glanced towards Thea, and the projection looked troubled. Somehow, that was disconcerting all on its own.

Re: CH02: S [D03|0700] So, Exactly How Fucked Are We Today?

Reply #8 –
[Lieutenant Commander Cross |  Holodeck | Deck 08 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan, @BZ, @Fife

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Cross sighed. His headache was only getting worse. It was just far too complex for anyone to keep track of. The Theurgy was flying directly into a wasp nest with only an educated guess of which wasps were friendly and which weren't. The only certainty was that no matter what happened, they were going to be facing a hard fight, because that was just how the universe worked. Of course they were facing nearly impossible odds. The alternative was just ridiculous.

"So if this civil war isn't wrapped quickly, we could be looking at a six way fight," Cross said. He looked far away, to a distant set of stars that marked the closest Klingon worlds to the Romulans...worlds which were now undefended. "Two Romulan factions, two Klingon factions, Starfleet and us. That's just in this quadrant. Nobody knows what the Breen are up to, the Savi have their own civil war, the Borg probably haven't disappeared..."

Cross rubbed his brow wearily. Fuck. Shit. Haja. Wanker. I need to learn more swear words to cover this. "It's a race to Qo'nos, then. We outrun or outfight whatever Gorka throws at us and hope that Martok's allies can back us up. We have to treat all the neutrals as hostile until we learn otherwise, all while hoping that we can get them on our side."

- FIN
 
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