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Topic: USS Cayuga: Resistance is Futile (Read 7803 times) previous topic - next topic
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Re: USS Cayuga: Resistance is Futile

Reply #25
Joint post @Arista & @Numen


[ Lt. JG Izar Bila| Mess Hall| Deck 02|USS Cayuga]
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Att.: @Nolan @Arista


Bila was up to his elbows in a box full of Bolian decorations. He didn't know who had been the one who had been spend most of the day replicating the ornaments, but whoever he or she was had mixed the garlands with festoons and half had become entangled in a loose skein ialmost mpossible to disentangle. So now the hybrid was sitting cross-legged on the floor, the box in his lap and half wrapped in ribbons of different shades of blue: bows with indigo pendants hung from his shoulders, he was holding something he didn't know exactly how to call on the back of his neck, but that was full of turquoise flowers, while a cascade of cerulean crystal drops spilled down his right thigh. He couldn't deny that this celebration had a strict label with respect to colours, at least his everyday uniform was within the chromatic range allowed. He grinned to himself mischiviously. Maybe he could make a suggestion to liutenant Oralar about it. He had always considered gray a very elegant colour.


While he was still fighting that asymmetric battle against the muddle of ornaments, he chuckled loudly, genuinely happy. He had spent more than four years on board of the Asterion, mapping the Helaspont Nebula, so he was past that much anxiety and distress that was associated with long periods of incommunication, immersed in a monochromatic soup of space dust. However, he loved the celebrations, and being immersed in the preparation of one of them filled his chest with joy. In the same way that he considered that he had lived enough conflicts to fulfill a couple of lifetimes, the half-bajoran had celebrated very few things, reason why any excuse seemed good to throw himself head to a party. So when Captain Ziegler had suggested that party to honor the bolian crewmembers and lighten the mood of the full crew, he had been one of the first volunteers to organize it. He also seriously doubted that he is superior, Lieutenant Vanya, had come to the fore to participate in all that soiree, so Bila had needed to.


Holding one of the ribbons with his mouth, he managed to undo one of the biggest knots, and he waved the decoration triumphantly over his head, so that those in charge of bedeck the mess hall shared his victory. "I have another! It only remains to unravel ..." Bila began to count the garlands, banderoles and festoons, creating a more complex knot than the one she had just unmade. "...Only twenty more!" The scientist's voice exhaled a good mood that his task fellows didn't seem to share.


Atop a small set of steps Lieutenant Commander James Ridgewell, Chief Helmsman of the Cayuga, stood precariously. Carefully balancing, he reached up and held the final piece of bunting on the bulkhead where it needed to be affixed. Blue. It had to be blue.

Everything Bolian was blue. Normally it wouldn't be a problem, but Ridgewell was sick of the color. It seemed like eons since he had last looked out the window to the usual black. It was crazy how much he missed it, but he knew the mission wouldn't last forever. Plus, in a few days they'd get a glimpse of that beautiful nothingness when they reached the edge of the nebula. Ridgewell was looking forward to that more than anything else. Well that and Delgato finding the last piece of self-adhesive for this bunting.

"Have you found it yet?" Ridgewell griped, trying not to over balance.

"Calm." Came the reply. Carla Delgato, the Chief Tactical Officer, had called back with her hands deep inside the storage box. It must be in here, she kept telling herself. It's always in here. Frankly, she had busted her hump dragging the box of supplies up from the cargo bay. There was no way she was going to go always the way back down there, just to find something to fix the last piece of bunting with.

Watching from the side-lines with calm stoic eyes, Security Chief Toren waited. He hadn't done much to help. In fact, there was a small part of him that resented these evenings. The gruff trill didn't enjoy attending them much less the Captain's predilection for making the senior staff do the decorating.

"Twenty more and then we can get out of here, for at least five minutes"" Toren said in reply to Izar. It was always hard for Ridgewell to guess if the trill was being sarcastic or sincere.


The chemist shook his head at the no so festive response of the Security officer. An impish idea bolted in his mind, thinking about season the guard's synthehol with a little powder of the moonshined booze that he used to distil onboard the Thunderchild, but soon he put it aside. Bila didn't want to take the plunge his stay in that starship. He had the feeling that he just unpacked his luggage two days ago. The scientist had too many experiments going on and the nebula had enough REE compounds to study them for a full year. It would be better to keep the R&R within the limits of the ordinances. Forgetting his outlandish idea, the half-bajoran went on with his work, introducing himself more and more into the skein he manipulated until he almost seemed to be a part of it. He turned to try to grab a loose end he had noticed sliding down his right elbow but was unable to, caught in the snarled mess of blue stuff. Bila frowned his browridges, trying to let go of the trap in which he had fallen without spoiling any of the decorations, but after several attempts he only managed to get even more knotted in that mess. “Delgato? I.. I'll thank a helping hand here” he mewled.

At once, the room was bathed in a deep red turning all the blue, except that from the window into a sombre purple hue. The red alert klaxon was so loud that it made Ridgewell jump, nearly causing him to fall from the steps. As Ziegler spoke over the intercom, warning them all of the impending fight with the borg, across the room, the security chief was already at work.

"Lieutenant Bannin, where are you?" Toren spoke with his usual gruffness, slapping the combadge to his chest.

<I'm on the main bridge sir, orders?> Came the reply.

"Good, I'm starting protocol Toren J Twelve. We've practiced this, so you know what to do kid." He spoke in short sentences. "I'm also sending you your partner and some of hazard
trained deputies. Hopefully your partner will keep his eye on the job and not a certain flight controller."

Looking at the others, he ordered sharply. "Stay here. I'm going to get some arms and then we'll proceed to the bridge."

Re: USS Cayuga: Resistance is Futile

Reply #26
[ Lt. JG Kaylon Jeen | Main Engineering | Deck 17 | USS Cayuga ] Att. : Everyone still left on the Cayuga

Before he got overwhelmed by his great idea his brain stopped him. Punching his hand on his forehead he said: “There are still some problems we’re facing. We still have to find a way to the shuttle bay and I guess there should be at least ten drones between here and there. Oh and we’ve to connect somehow the shuttles with the main system.” Jeen spotted a console at the bulkhead and realized: “We could use the conduit of the ship so we don’t have to carry an extra cable with us. The only problem left is avoiding unnecessary contact with these drones to reach deck 4.”

A label over the door of the engineering room caught his attention. Transporter Room III.

“I’ve got an idea. We could use the transporter room here to get to the transporter room on deck 4.” The Trill moved to the door at the bulkhead. Left of it he used the console to activate the sensors outside of the door. The console showed what he was afraid of: “Seven vital signs spotted on the corridor outside of the engineering room.”

“Hey chief remembering when I mentioned that we really earn this brandy. The CPU spotted at least seven borgs outside of this room so if you love the current colour of your skin you should probably stay here. Oh but remember when you stay here I drink the brandy alone. I mean you have to decide it but this brandy is worth fighting for.” During this little monologue Kaylon took some devices from the engineering room like an old graviton tube and a hand phaser. He put those in a small bag and waited for the answer of the CPO.
[PO2 T’Kolla]
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