Star Trek: Theurgy

PRO S [ Day 1 | 1200hrs ] ALL ABOARD the Crazy Train!

May 28, 2024, 07:32:12 AM

[ Cmdr. Cross | Conference Lounge | D. 8 | V. 2 | USS Theurgy ] ATTN: @JacenSoloDjo

Narrowing his eyes at the stack of PADDs on the conference table before him, Cross briefly wondered if any of these men or women understood exactly what they were getting into. As much as he appreciated their contact in Starfleet continuing to ferry competent personnel to assist and, sadly, sometimes replace, Cross couldn’t help but wonder if the man or woman sometimes felt like they were Death, complete with a scythe. Though officially cut off from the Federation, they still had enough contacts with non-compromised individuals to report their losses from time to time so “King” would well know their casualty rate even as s/he recruited more meat fodder for the cause.

Cross rolled his shoulders, closing his eyes for a moment as he sought to push the beginnings of a headache far from his consciousness. Cross leaned back in his chair, opening his eyes and moving his gaze over the table to the door as he awaited the first arrival. A few new transfers had been instructed to report directly to their department heads while others would be ferried to him for assignment. They’d only just arrived at the designated coordinates to meet Martok, and now the IKS Vask'at would rendezvous long enough to transport new personnel. It was his job to sort the fresh blood for the upcoming missions, and he’d chosen this conference room for a reason. As soon as he finished meeting, greeting, and shuffling the newcomers, they’d separate vectors and get underway. With the battle bridge of Vector Two just a few steps away, Cross felt this was the most appropriate place for the meeting.

It didn’t take long to sort the PADDs containing service records according to department and rank, a fact that was both useful for the time constraint and yet disheartening. As much as he, along with the captain and Stark, hoped to be so successful in the coming missions they had little loss of life, the reality told a different story. There would be blood. And they’d need all the help they could get to recover and keep going once the dust settled.

Re: Ch 3 S [ Day 1 | 1200hrs ] ALL ABOARD the Crazy Train!

Reply #1 – May 28, 2024, 12:35:08 PM

[Conference Lounge | D. 8 | V. 2 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Ellen Fitz‍ 

[You know, you were supposed to actually come home for a bit first,] Charlie had chastised over comms after learning she wasn't coming back to Earth after her stint on the starbase, as if he were her father not her cousin. Kath had simply smirked and shrugged. She really did try to get home at least once a year. She supposed this year it was going to have to be a tiny bit delayed. With so many things happening, she had doubted she was going to get home anytime soon to begin with. With her dossier, she had been alert since the Paris bombing of possibly being dragged right back into 'the slog'. 

"Yeah, well. Something came up. There's a reason Papi always said keep a bug-out bag packed," Lieutenant Katherine MacFarlane, a decade and a half into her career of Starfleet had more reason than many to expect unexpected things to happen. 

[You know I kinda hated that part of growing up. Making us refill it with clothes that actually fit every year,] Charlie had mildly complained.

And packed bug-out bag Kath had. The bag was as long as her torso and in the rucksack style. She preferred it compared to trying to lug a metal footlocker all over the place. And besides, she really didn't carry a lot of personal effects anyway. Any customization of her quarters tended to happen through replicated items to match the mood of the ship she was on. Or, at least, that was her explanation whenever anyone asked. And not many actually asked (which was often disappointing). 

Kath was still kind of mourning the fact there had been not a single kadra leg on the IKS Vask'at. It had more than amused her Klingon bunkmate while traveling to rendezvous with the Theurgy that the Lieutenant's only complaint had been about that. Not the beds. Not the gagh. The lack of kadra legs. What can she say? She developed a taste while getting her ass actively and consistently kicked by her Klingon hybrid friend on the Hamburg. (She was sure NuQach would also have found it amusing that all that negative reenforcement hadn't actually worked to prevent Kath from having a taste for Klingon food.)

Bug-out bag slung securely over one shoulder, she still sometimes found herself missing the Hamburg and her security gold uniform. The red didn't feel right sometimes, but she would eventually get used to it. Just like she eventually got used to so many other things about her life. Like the fact her father seemed to have less and less time for the family as he got more and more involved in HQ things, especially after the whole shitshow in Paris. Her last message to him from when she was on Starbase 36 had yet to be given a reply which worried her more than frustrated her. He had never really been distant before. Her mother assured her he was just busy. She remembered rolling her eyes then snarking 'Well he could just say that for himself' which had not gone over well. 

Rubbing the edges of the large-ish burn scar on her wrist, she found her way easy enough to the conference room. She had not been on a Federation starship in years (only catching runabouts and 'civilian' craft), but had done all the required reading of the ship type that she had been allowed access to with her clearance (nevermind if she had really wanted to she probably could have gone beyond her current clearance but that's a bit of abuse of power now isn't it? Not a good look). Needless to say, she was going to have fun learning the corridors of a new ship and it would be a fair sight faster than learning the layout of a Starbase. Especially considering she was sure even after four years that she had not actually seen every part of Starbase 36 and was still getting turned around about the time she was getting tapped for a new assignment. 

As she stood just within the conference room, brown eyes alighted on Cross. She lowered her bag off her shoulder and half-dropped it to the floor with a soft thunk. An eyebrow rose just a bit, not quite reaching her hairline that had been recently put back into its short high and tight style in 'celebration' of a new assignment. Look your best, put your best foot forward, keep your shirt tucked in, and such. Her hands moved to rest behind her, at the small of her back. 

"Lieutenant Katherine MacFarlane, formerly of Starbase 36. I have many names but go by Kath. Permission to come aboard, Sir?" she really wouldn't be here otherwise, would she? "So, having a bit of a spin with Regulation 13982?" That was a joke. The question became which part was meant to be funny, which part was she riffing on. 

---

OOC: 
Regulation 13982: A Starfleet captain can conscript almost any person into service during a time of war. (In essence she's testing the joke level and/or being self-aware of just what she's jumped into being something you only grab people like her for.)

Re: Ch 3 S [ Day 1 | 1200hrs ] ALL ABOARD the Crazy Train!

Reply #2 – May 30, 2024, 07:06:15 AM

[ Cmdr. Cross | Conference Lounge | D. 8 | V. 2 | USS Theurgy ] ATTN: @JacenSoloDjo

The dark-haired woman who confidently strode through the door had Cross immediately doing two things. One, grabbing the PADD with a file matching her appearance, and two, standing up to wave her closer. She was older than him by a few years and had quite a record of medals and ribbons to show for it, making Cross wonder why she hadn’t advanced to his rank or higher. He knew not every officer was cut out for or even wanted promotions. Some were truly better suited for support roles than for being the head, but others were and had either been overlooked and bypassed or had earned a reputation that kept them down. Considering she wasn’t in a diplomatic position, what he’d read from her record merited no reason to be held back, at least none that he could readily see.

“I’d rather we not go by the designation assigned to me in the Cardassia lab where I was created, so we can just stick to Cross.” Gesturing for her to take the seat across from him, Cross glanced at the PADD briefly before also taking a seat. His lips pulled back in a mirthless smile as he responded to her earlier quip, “Be it dark humor or reality, taking a walk down to the memorial wall next to the arboretum will give you a clue as to why we would use Regulation 13982, were we still officially sanctioned by Starfleet.”

He didn’t wait for a possible sullenness to fall over either of them; they didn’t have the time for it. Instead, he ran a finger up the PADD, moving the information along, before speaking again.

“From your record, I see that this will be your first posting where we employ the multivector assault mode. While we share some characteristics with the Odyssey and Prometheus class starships, all three sections are equipped with independent warp-capable flight and combat capabilities. Since our…interactions with the Savi, many of our systems have likewise been upgraded under their supervision. In about an hour, I will depart with the Ranger, which is vector two and three put together, while the Helmet, vector 1, remains here to rendezvous with Chancellor Martok and Empress Donatra. It may take some time to get used to the terminology and which name is associated with which vector, but from what I can tell you are a quick learner. Highly adaptable as well.”

Cross gave her record one more quick glance before shifting it to the side and clasped his hands together on the table.

“Your quarters are on deck 7, vector 1. This is convenient as you’ll be remaining with the Helmet to assist with what we can only assume to be an…interesting time between the Klingons and Romulans.” Tipping his head to the side, Cross allowed himself a moment to imagine what sort of chaos would undoubtedly unfold once all three groups were together. He couldn’t help the subtle sigh at the thought. Bringing his attention back to the woman across from him, Cross angled a small smile towards her. “I’m sure you have questions.”

Re: Ch 3 S [ Day 1 | 1200hrs ] ALL ABOARD the Crazy Train!

Reply #3 – May 30, 2024, 11:23:31 AM

[Conference Lounge | D. 8 | V. 2 | USS Theurgy ] ATTN: @Ellen Fitz‍ 

Kath was on the one hand relieved she didn't have to go through the same rigamarole she always did when it came to her surname not quite matching the face or the slight accent when speaking Federation Standard. Or, indeed, a drilling about her HQ adjutant father. It was easy to get bogged down in her family tree, easy for people to expect certain things out of her when they compared her to MacFarlane Senior, if they even made the connection at all. Her dossier of course listed such pertinent information. Sometimes she liked to joke about the fact her security clearance was higher than her father's. Which, it was. But he didn't know that and neither did a lot of people she spoke to. 

"Fair enough, Commander."

Likewise, she wasn't someone who was bound to dig into someone's background without permission, or reason to do it (such as trust or the lack thereof). Even though she could in theory, didn't mean she should and she understood the inherent responsibility she had to use her 'powers' sparingly. Nothing about the Theurgy or the short and sweet dossier on her superior officer had given her reason or rhyme to do it. She knew there was definitely a story behind 'Cardassian lab' but she did not show much interest in getting more about that like one might assume with her background. At least, not yet. In this case, if she was meant to know she would be told.

"Please, don't misunderstand. I've been in the trenches before." And sent people into them. "Indeed. I wouldn't be here if the need were not all that great. Not so abruptly and urgently that I wasn't allowed my yearly furlough." As many a Vulcan would say: Do not mistake my composure for ease. Sometimes the only thing you never had in short supply was jokes, gallows humor. She did make a note her tiny joke had fallen slightly flatter than she meant.

Running a hand through short cropped hair and yet not ruffling a single portion out of place, she nudged her bag forward with the side of her boot before taking the invitation to sit. Her legs crossed at the ankle and one foot jiggled a little so she didn't turn to drumming her fingers on the table. Instead, she crossed her arms politely on the tabletop, her shoulders relaxed. Everything about her-- relaxed. Almost unnervingly so. Her speaking tone changed, as well, serious and relatively devoid of emotion.

"Si. The Hamburg was Galaxy-class, the Augusta was Ambassador-class. The MVAM system seems similar-- in theory-- to the Galaxy-class's separation just on steroids. Now that I'm aboard I will, of course, better familiarize myself with the MVAM. I will obviously appreciate any technical manuals on the topic." Kath did not bother to mention that she had been trying for the Enterprise-- and yet had been shuffled off to the other two ships and now the Theurgy. Could have been worse, she could have found herself on an Intrepid-class. Despite the acclaim of Voyager, she would prefer not being on a class of ship that tended to be out and about away from the action because it was designed that way. She was at her best when she could have action with her adventure. 

A smile almost formed on her face but she stifled it. "By the end of the week I'll likely have it all memorized in every language I speak," she stated. Not a brag, just a fact and deployed that way. With just the slightest edge of humor. Bragging would have been putting a number in there. A pause, dark eyes squinting just the slightest in a look of concentration. "I will need a listing of the system's changes if they affect how I interface with my station, if that isn't too much trouble." The last thing she needed was another terminal blowout because she didn't have all the information on said terminal rather than the fact that damage had caused a feedback loop and then a violent explosion. She rubbed the scars on her palms against her elbows at the memory/thought. 

She wasn't certain she liked the idea of being on the same deck as the deuterium tanks, if her quick glance at the deck postings while in transit had been correct. But so long as it wasn't right next door, she would be alright, in more ways than one (hopefully). She swapped her legs around under the table as she let herself ponder a moment. 'I'm sure you have questions' was always a tough one. She often found herself thinking of all the questions later if she didn't come into things with them itching at her brain. And yet. 

"I assume you are aware I fought beside the Klingons during the Dominion War. So the only question in my mind would be whether or not I should be expecting to have that experience and my ability to speak Klingon used during what can only be a rather tense and awkward affair? Or, 'interesting' as you put it. Or am I meant to simply... hobnob as Papi puts it?" Eyes glinted with an unknown emotion-- similar to amusement or cautious mirth. It did not show itself in her words, however. "I also imagine you might have questions for me depending on whether or not you got my fully unredacted dossier." She assumed given the situation every single dotted I and crossed T had been unveiled. Maybe Captain's Eyes Only, but usually when considering Tactics it was good for at least the department head to know that they had been gifted a multi-talented analyst and sharpshooter who recalibrated phaser banks and torpedo launchers for fun. Maybe not the full reports of what she had been a part of, but enough. She knew sometimes it could be equal parts unnerving and surprising for someone of her size and build to have the dossier she did. Everyone had their own preconceived notion of her job posting on DS18. Kath rarely disabused people of the notions. Sometimes it was fun to be that person who could be cracking wise, then remarking 'I can write your obituary in eight different languages after I kill you one of five ways with my COMMbadge' and people thinking she can't possibly be anywhere close to capable of that given her size and joking demeanor two seconds ago. 

"And I also expect being the newbie I'll be given the graveyard shift?" As if she had a problem with that; she did her best work in the dead of night with no distractions. Even if 'dead of night' was slightly relative on a starship. She really was trying to be less of a Gamma Shift fiend, though. Honest.

Re: Ch 3 S [ Day 1 | 1200hrs ] ALL ABOARD the Crazy Train!

Reply #4 – June 02, 2024, 10:59:01 AM

[ Cmdr. Cross | Conference Lounge | D. 8 | V. 2 | USS Theurgy ] ATTN: @JacenSoloDjo

Cross snorted at her ‘trenches’ comment. “Yes, lieutenant, I am well aware of your time in the trenches. Not to trivialize the reality behind the awards, but I must say, it's a good thing our medals don’t clink and jingle in this era, or else anytime you wore your full dress regs, they’d hear you coming a parsec away.” He glanced over her shoulder a moment to note whether there was someone else at the door waiting to be seen, then returned his full attention to MacFarlane. “I am always thankful when veterans join our ranks. Though many have been battle hardened through the shit we’ve had to live through, there are still more than a few onboard who struggle with the reality of our circumstances and could do well with more ‘trench time’ mentors like yourself.”

As MacFarlane spoke, adding in requests and inquires, Cross picked up his personal PADD and keyed in instructions.

“The technical manuals and the systems changes have been forwarded to the console in your quarters. Call me distracted by our upcoming vector separation, but the information is merely in Federation standard. Maybe after our mission, I could find an illegal Ferengi translation for you to chew on.” Setting the PADD back down, Cross took a deep breath. “Your history with the Klingons was one reason why I assigned you to remain with the Helmet. I believe your expertise will assist the negotiations. And as we are both well aware, neither the Klingons nor the Romulans have a stellar history of approaching the negotiation table without a few disgruntled members seeking to double-cross the leaders or sabotage the negotiations as a whole. We’ve already been given some indication that all is not peachy among Martok’s forces, and undoubtedly, the same will ring true for Donatra. Your unique skills will help keep the balance in favor of mission success.”

Her question regarding the shift had Cross glancing back at the PADD momentarily. “We are operating on four shifts right now to keep everyone as alert and ready as possible. You are on the Delta shift right now, but I can make a note if you’d prefer the Gamma shift.”

Re: Ch 3 S [ Day 1 | 1200hrs ] ALL ABOARD the Crazy Train!

Reply #5 – Today at 03:38:13 AM

[Conference Lounge | Deck 8 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ] ATTN: @Ellen Fitz‍ 

For the first time, Kath seemed... not rattled but also not smug or dismissive. The record was what it was and yet... and yet. There was something there, a haunting in her soul. She had gotten off a lot better than many of the people she had served with, and it still settled over her at the most awkward of times. How to explain? The feeling was complicated. But her face only flashed from its calm for a split second and then it was like nothing had changed at all.

"Indeed. I keep them in the box they came in, in a drawer. They make a lot of noise in there when the ship shakes," she said, clearly joking but also not lying. "Half of them are wrong place right time," she added, and there was something in her voice that couldn't be exactly pinpointed. "I am who I am. If it wasn't me, it would be someone else with the same ribbon rack." Honestly, at this stage of her life she had been content to be in the background, sinking in her hours and just being the best Starfleet officer she could be. So she could have a dossier that wasn't considered exceptional just because her father was who he was. She wasn't a glory hound, and that had kept her in many peoples' good graces, as paradoxical that might sound. 

Her fingers drummed on her arms as she kept them folded politely on the tabletop. Kath didn't much like to talk about that part of her dossier. She did what she was told, what was right and she got rewarded with scars and a pretty little ribbon, and a story she never told except if she was so far into the bottle that she was on the floor (which was, honestly, a relative rarity; in fact she couldn't remember when she had been well and truly drunk). But then, the scars thing was entirely her fault for her thought process about them.

A pause then a chuckle, shrugging her shoulders. She didn't find herself as the teaching type, wasn't sure she actually had the temperament. Being on an even keel in the thick of it was one thing. Being able to sit and teach someone how to fire a phaser without flinching every time it did as it was told... But, monkey see monkey do. Maybe. Her age combined with experience that tended to be equivalent to someone far older than she was, meant she was not unaccustomed to taking some under her wing accidentally. "I'm not sure you'd want to make that my official reason for walking the corridors, but it's unavoidable they'll learn. In some way." 

"Much appreciated. Standard is fine, but I'm sure I could actually translate some of it into Ferengi." Very little of it, but some. Her arms unfolded and she brushed a hand along the side of her head that was cropped extremely short to where it was almost a buzz. She liked the sensation of the hair there on her palm and it helped her think. "I'll be sure to add it to the database if I do," another joke. A computer could easily do the same thing with less man hours devoted to the task. But then, linguistics was her thing. 

"I guess it's a good thing I'm not planning to dress to the nines for this little get together." Look at her so cleverly referring to an earlier topic and flashing a smile wide enough for her canine teeth to be seen properly. "Yeah... If I had my druthers I would not have Klingons in the same room as Romulans, especially on a space-faring vessel." It was, as her mother would say: Muy mal. Very bad. "Martok's always had issues when it comes to him being Chancellor. Why should now be any different when a pledge of assistance is needed? I'll keep my ears out." And hopefully another war doesn't start right in front of the dinner table. She wouldn't ever consider herself an expert on either Klingon or Romulan politics, but she had heard much both from NuQach and channels that officially she had never been monitoring in the first place. (And yes she did make the connection of talking about Ferengi a few moments ago then making a crack about ears.) She wasn't nearly as familiar with the Romulan side of things. She would have to do a quick review before things got started in earnest. 

She pulled her arms back with a soft sound of fabric against polished wood as she sat up straighter in her seat, felt the scar across both of her shoulder blades stretch and ripple. "I assume there's been no specific chatter of possible trouble on either front. Just a general sensation? Anyone specifically I should try to keep my eye on?"

Kath's head canted slightly, studying the tabletop for a moment. "'preciate it. But, I don't actually have a firm preference. I'm fine with any duty shift. I was on Gamma at my last posting. My sleep schedule has always been flexible," she half-lied. She'd always been a night owl, when night actually meant something, anyway. But she would take any shift given and make no complaints. Because now wasn't the time for them. And she was telling the truth about being understanding if she got the shitty shifts by being new boots in the corridors. She could do Alpha, just make sure she's loaded up with coffee-and-chicory. But Delta? Delta was still plenty late at night. Delta still sucked for many people but not her. "Delta's fine." More than. 

Re: PRO S [ Day 1 | 1200hrs ] ALL ABOARD the Crazy Train!

Reply #6 – Today at 05:42:08 AM

[ Cmdr. Cross | Conference Lounge | D. 8 | V. 2 | USS Theurgy ] ATTN: @JacenSoloDjo @TWilkins (@Dumedion since hottie Hauq was mentioned)

“Of the battle veterans on board, I cannot think of a one who has ever willingly worn the medals in public or shown them off like it was some primary school show-and-tell day. Fuck, if there were folks like that on board now? They’d have been humbled by circumstances into keeping a lid on such things. And you’re completely correct, if not you then someone else. At least, that’s the ideal we want on this ship. Just because we are operating outside of official Starfleet sanctions doesn’t mean we’re going to get lax on keeping up with training. Knowing that your squad mate is up to par with their training gives that little extra boost of confidence when facing the types of odds we’ve been facing. And that you’ve faced before.” Cross reached up, scratching behind his ear. “In my experience, people who want leadership and roles of influence are likely the last who should be in those positions. From where I’m sitting, your lack of interest or enthusiasm to throw clout around with the younger crew is precisely why you’ll do fine keeping an eye on them.”

MacFarlane seemed to pick up on his sarcasm without difficulty and responded in kind. Cross smiled. She would fit in nicely with the old guard while bringing in the much-needed new blood. When she asked about specific chatter for trouble, Cross’ smile fell and he shook his head.

“Our chief diplomat, Madsen, has a firm contact within the IDF who has been keeping an eye on our people when they’re on Qo’Nos and who also feeds intel that may impact our position. Colonel Hauq is his name, and while I’ve never met the man, he’s proven himself trustworthy, if not typical Klingon charmingly cantankerous. He tends to come out of the shadows and melt back into them, so I can’t guarantee that he’ll be among Martok’s group when they come aboard later, but if you get a chance to meet up with him, he’d be the one who knows the most about any potential threats.” He gave a mirthless chuckle. “And while she’s not in the Intelligence department, Madsen has a knack for discovering things and being in the middle of things, so she’d likely be another one to check in with, along with the Intelligence department as a whole. They’re on their game, good people.”

A blinking light at the door’s console alerted Cross that another new transfer was waiting in the corridor. While not wanting to rush MacFarlane, at the same time, he didin’t have time to dawdle.

“Good to know, lieutenant. Unless there’s anything else you’d like to discuss at this time, I believe you can dismiss to your quarters, get things settled, and then find a good window to watch the vectors separate. The Ranger will be getting underway in about an hour or less.”